°/WAM"SiSMC PT :^75 THE GIFT OF A-vsoa^^ '=^.\.?l\^.o.v A.?- '^- ^8 '^ brtit DUE .^tlN-tt-|98Sl PJ SOOZ-r^a"*" ""'™™"V Library llfmwiSSimiffli.i'''* rabbis The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026853881 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS STORIES FROM THE RABBIS ,1^ ABRAM Sf TSAACS, PH. D. Professor of German and Hebrew in the University of the City of New York NEW YORK CHARLES L. WEBSTER & COMPANY 1893 Copyright, mgj], CHARLES L. WEBSTER & CO. (AN rights reserved.) PRESS OF Jenkins & MoCowan, NEW YORK. TO MY ALMA MATER INTRODUCTION. T^HE rabbis, whose sayings are recorded in the Tal- mud and Midrash — writings that stretch over about a thousand years — were admirable story-tellers. They were fond of the parable, the anecdote, the apt illustration, and their legends that have been transmit- ted to us, all aglow with the light and life of the Orient, possess perennial charm. The common impression that the.y were rabbinical Dryasdusts — mere dreamers, ' always buried in wearisome disputations, abstruse pedants dwelling in a solitary world of their own — is wholly unjust. They were more than ecclesiastics — they were men; and their cheerful humanity forms the secret to their character. Their background was rather sombre — temple and nationality destroyed, a succession of foreign taskmasters, a series of wars and persecutions that would have annihilated any other race. But if the Roman drove his ploughshare over the site of Ju- daea's capital, the Hebrew spirit refused to submit to the yoke of any conqueror. In the storm and stress of centuries the rabbis preserved a certain buoyancy and even temper, which sprang from the fullness and sunniness of their faith. They thought and studied and debated ; they worked and dreamt and cherished hope — " Like a poet hidden In the light of thought. Singing songs unbidden Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not." 7 8 INTRODUCTION. The rich harvest of rabbinical stories that survive can be traced to rabbinical buoyancy. It is a quality not peculiar to the rabbis; it is distinctly Oriental. Nor can absolute originality be claimed for their graceful and suggestive legends; they are children of various climes, these floating fairy tales, and the history of their migration from land to land, and literature to literature, is as enchanting, perhaps, as the stories themselves. But in Palestine and Babylonia they re- ceived a coloring that was essentially rabbinical, and were applied by the rabbis to the circumstances of their day. In their hands they became instrumerrts of in- struction that formed the solace and inspiration of the Jews in every clime. The rabbis were preachers par excellence. In the school and synagogue they found the story the best sermon. They taught in parables. The Talmud is by no means merely a digest of con- flicting legal opinions; it is rather a literature extend- ing over nearly a thousand years, and embracing views on every branch of thought by as varied a body of men as ever assembled in such a long parliament of almost ten centuries. It has its mountain peaks, cold, sterile, fog-enwreathed, inaccessible save to the chosen few; but it abounds none the less in lovely meadows, bright with the sunshine of humanity and redolent with famil- iar flowers, with the blue sky ever near. There are grave disputations by the doctors of the law, profound dialectic harangues, bristling with the logic of the schools, which an ordinary person would not have the presumption to understand ; but, happily, there are cheerful anecdotes and sayings that never lose their interest and appeal to a common humanity. The his- tory of the Talmudic era is written in a minor key for INTROD UCTION. 9 the Jew, but the Talmud itself is far from being a lamentation. The rabbis of old Judaea blessed God in seed-time and harvest, in sunshine and rain, in joy and sorrow, and in the flash of the lightning, in the fra- grance of the rose. Such was their moral earnestness, so pure and gentle and beautiful their optimism in cen- turies of continuous chastening, that of thern can it be truly said, they found " tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in every thing." In the present volume a modest sheaf of arrows is gathered from the rabbinical quiver. Their aim is sim- ply to entertain — primarily the select but constantly widening circle of those interested in Oriental themes, and then the intelligent reading public that will per- haps find something novel at least in these stories, which illustrate some phases of life and thought in old Judsea, and yet are not wholly foreign to the culture and tendencies of our own age. Nor are they without a certain educational value for the young, embodying virtues which must always be emphasized. Their at- mosphere is one of genial humanity. The stories, which strive to be true to the spirit of the olden masters, deal with characteristic traits of rabbinic thought and fancy. Old favorites are seen to assume a new guise ; here are Faust, Mar- garet, and Mephisto hand in hand; here is Rip Van Winkle, a philosophic recluse, and a Baron Mun- chausen spins his strange fancies unchecked. The great Solomon on his magic throne weaves his enchant- ments and becomes a victim to their spell; and Elijah the prophet proves the mysterious friend of mankind in his everlasting wanderings. The three-leaved clover. I O IN TROD UCriON. mystic and all-powerful, of love, learning and benevo- lence, is made the subject of various tales. Some light is thrown upon the daily avocations of the rabbis, and their regard for labor and its blessings ages before the dawn of our industrial era. As a kind of after repast are given a few crumbs from rabbmical table-talk that illustrate the varied wit and sententious wisdom of the sages. Some of the stories appeared originally in the Atlan- tic Monthly, Sunday School Times, Harper's Bazar, and other periodicals, but have been revised and largely rewritten in their present form. CONTENTS Introduction, .... 7 The Faust of the Talmud, . .15- The Wooing of the Princess, ... 29 The Rip Van Winkle of the Talmud, . 41 Rabbinical Romance, . .51 The Shepherd's Wife, . . 61 The Repentant Rabbi, . . , 71 The Inheritance, . . .81 Elijah in the Legends, .... 92 When Solomon was King, . . 103 Rabbinical Humor, . . 114 The Munchausen of the Talmud, , . 126 The Rabbi's Dream, . . 135 The Gift that Blessed, . 142 In the Sweat of Thy Brow, . . 151 A Four-Leaved Clover, . . . 161 The Expiation, ..... 172 A String of Pearls, . . . .184 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. THE FAUST OF THE TALMUD. QOLOMON the King was in despair. The ^—^ divine word had been pronounced that no iron was to be employed in building the Tem- ple, and how was he to erect a suitable edifice without the aid of iron ? How could he crush huge masses of marble ? how split adamantine rock ? how cleave hard boulders of wood ? The work had to be done. It was his duty and privilege as David's son. The resources of a mighty realm were at his service; but without the employment of iron he could not advance a step. Was he, the sovereign of Israel, to abandon the undertaking ? Were his wisdom and his wealth in vain ? "Let my counselors be summoned," the monarch said. And he laid his perplexities before them. All were silent when Solomon concluded his recital. They, too, shared his 1 6 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. chagrin and realized their helplessness. " Can none of you aid me ?" the King exclaimed. " O King ! " said at length one of the sages," " there is something mightier far than iron. In the early days of creation, when light and dark- ness struggled for the mastery, the Almighty called into life a tiny worm, Shamir, which possesses the property of splitting the hardest rock." " And where lurks this worm "i " Solomon im- patiently asked. " Ah, your Majesty," the sage exclaimed, " there is the difficulty. No mortal spirit has yet discovered its hiding-place." " That shall not baffle me," Solomon rejoined. " I am more than mortal." He dismissed the assembly. The courtiers and sages departed, but no sooner had their footsteps died away than Solomon, arising from his throne and gazing at his dazzling sig- net-ring, upon which was written the ineffable Name, summoned to his presence two genii. With a rushing as of a mighty wind and a rum- bling as of an earthquake they bowed before him. THE FA VST OF THE TALMUD. I 7 "What is thy will, O master?" they ex- claimed. " Tell me where can I find the Shamir." The genii trembled. "Ask us not, O mas- ter. It is our king alone, Ashmodai, who knows its secret abode." " And where does Ashmodai live .? " Solomon inquired. ^ " Far, far from here," they replied. " Our monarch dwells upon the crest of a lofty moun- tain. He has dug out a deep pit, which he has filled with water, and covered with a huge stone securely sealed to the ground. Daily he ascends to heaven and returns to earth. Then he closely examines the seal to see whether any one has touched it and uncovered the well. Afterward he opens it himself, quenches his thirst, covers it again, and reaffixes the seal." "Enough!" cried Solomon. "Ye can go." And with a rushing as of a fierce hurricane and a rumbling as of a mighty earthquake, the genii de- parted. In a moment Solomon called his trusty captain, Benaiah, the hero of a hundred battles. He told him what he wanted, gave him certain directions, a chain, and a seal upon which was 1 8 STORIES PROM THE RABBIS. Stamped the ineffable Name, and in addition some wool, and various skins filled with wine. He then bade him farewell, with many a secret prayer for his success. The warrior's journey was long and toilsome. When Solomon traveled he rode upon the wind. Seated on his mantle of green silk, sixty miles in breadth and sixty in length, the king would journey with the rapidity of lightning. He could breakfast in Damascus and enjoy his evening meal in Media, so swift was his flight from east to west. Not so Benaiah. Many days passed before he reached the designat- ed path. And how desolate the mountain ! how profound the stillness ! how steep the ascent ! Nothing daunted, Benaiah set to work. He dug out a second pit a little to the right of Ashmodai's, drained off the water, and plugged the opening with wool. Then he dug out another pit, higher up, whose channel led to the emptied pit of Ashmodai, and therein he poured the wine. His work completed, Benaiah looked around with satisfaction, and hid himself behind a 7^HE FAUST OF THE TALMUD. 1 9 stump of wood, while he awaited, full of impa- tience, Ashmodai's arrival. The sun sank, the shadows of evening began to fall, and the stars shone out in their niches in the firmament. Ashmodai flew down from heaven, examined the seal, and finding it un- touched, raised the stone and descended into the well. What fragrance assailed his senses ! It was wine, joy-dispensing wine ! Shall he taste it, or spurn the temptation 1 " Wine is a mocker," he exclaimed, and was about to fly from the spot. " But wine rejoiceth the heart," was his next thought, and he could not flee. A great burning thirst overpowered him. He quaffed whole mouthfuls of the intox- icating drink. Again and again he strove to break from the spell, but the fumes of the liquor were too enticing. His brain became confused; he staggered and fell. Deep sleep claimed him for its own. Like a flash Benaiah sprang from his conceal- ment, and fastened the chain around Ashmo- dai's neck. Ashmodai awakes at length. He perceives the chain, and in his terror and anguish 20 STOJ?/£S FROM THE RABBIS. utters SO wild a lamentation that the moun- tain trembles. In vain he strives to free him- self. His eyes emit sparks of fire; his lips are white with foam; his convulsive struggles are frightful in their agony. The birds fly from the scene; the stars fade in the distant sky. " Be patient, O mighty spirit," Benaiah ex- claimed. "Thy struggles are useless. The ineffable Name is upon thee. Be still ! " Ashmodai heaved a sigh so profound that all creation heard and trembled; and the genii of the sea and the air flew into their innermost caverns, where they bewailed the fate of their master. " I am calm," said Ashmodai at last. " I shall obey thy will." Benaiah bade him follow, but wherever he went, destruction seemed to be his companion. Uprooted trees and overturned houses marked his path, as if he wished to wreak vengeance on nature. He passed a wedding party, and he wept at their joy. "In three days," said he, "the bridegroom will die." They hear a man bid a shoemaker make his shoes last for seven THE FA UST OF THE TALMUD. 2 I years, and Ashmodai bursts into laughter. " In seven days," he said, " that man may die, and he orders shoes for seven years ! " King Solomon's palace was gained at length, and Ashmodai was brought face to face with the monarch. " I ask but this of thee," Solomon exclaimed: " I am to build the holy Temple, and need the Shamir. Tell me where it is concealed." "I have it not," Ashmodai answered. "It is intrusted to the Prince of the Sea, and by him confided to a fowl, who is bound by a most solemn oath to retain it unharmed for all time. High on a solitary mountain-top the fowl has made his nest. He never forsakes the spot. Seek for him, O King." Again Benaiah was summoned and again he set out on a toilsome journey. Over hill and sea he wandered, across forest wastes and pathless meadows; and at last, upon the sum- mit of a mountain so near the sky that the star - gleams seemed reflected on its rocky sides, he discovered the fowl's nest. With a cry of joy he started forward, and placed a glass over the nest so that the fowl could see 2 2 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. but not touch its brood. He then concealed himself behind a rock. He had not long to wait. Soon the fowl came to the spot, and finding the hard glass, was about to apply the Shamir to split it, and thus gain access to his brood, when Benaiah uttered a startling cry. In alarm the fowl dropped the Shamir, which was caught in tri- umph by Benaiah, and given in due course to Solomon. The Temple was completed, and Ashmodai still was held in bondage. Solomon rioted in his glory and strength. What treasures did he gather, what palaces erect, what magnif- icent cities establish ! The world was ran- sacked to add to his pleasures, yet he was never satisfied. His ambition, his pride, his love of grandeur and extravagance, were un- quenchable. " O King," said Ashmodai, one day, as he noticed Solomon in a restless mood, " thou art become, thanks to my help, the mightiest of mortals. But, chained as I am, my powers are limited. Set me free; intrust to me but for THE FAUST OF THE TALMUD. 23 a moment thy signet-ring, and I shall make thee still mightier." The King heard, and full of boastful pride, handed him the precious ring, and struck off the chain that bound him. The air grew black without the palace hall. A huge hissing made Solomon turn pale. Ashmodai rose to an immense height. His feet touched the earth, but his head reached the sky. He hurls the ring into the sea; he casts Solomon a thousand miles away. Then, with the utmost unconcern, he dons Solomon's robes and assumes the monarch's privilege. Thus began the tragedy of Solomon's wan- derings. As a beggar, unknown and uncared for, he traveled from land to land. "Good people, kind people" — this was his constant cry — "do not pass me by. I am Solomon, King of Israel." "Thou art kingof beggars," was the answer, and he turned from the jeers and imprecations that followed him like a plague. Tortured by the memories of past grandeur and stung by the spectacle of present neglect, he resolved to visit his capital once more. 24 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Hope sweetened every privation and converted each hill that he climbed into the smoothest sward of green. The stars that shone above seemed to utter songs of unspeakable joy. The trees whispered fresh courage. The nearer he approached Jerusalem the more exultant his mood, until, as he entered its busy streets, he flung himself to the ground and kissed the sod at his feet. "I am Solomon, King of Israel," he ex- claimed to the people hurrying by. A chorus of jeers was the rejoinder. Spurned by the populace, thrust from his palace gate, despised and rejected, Solomon turned in de- spair from Jerusalem; and one evening, as its towers were bathed in the moonlight, he began his wanderings anew. Toward the royal city of Ammon he betook himself, and soon arrived at the palace, at whose gate he knocked as humbly as the low- est slave in the realm. " Take pity on me," said he, in tones of en- treaty, as the gate was opened. " I am starv- ing and foot-sore from travel. I am willing to do any service for a little shelter." THE FAUST OF THE TALMUD. 25 " I do need help," the royal cook exclaimed. "Enter, and thou canst abide with us." It was Solomon's duty to carry wood, to draw water, and perform other menial service, but the cook quickly noticed that the man was superior to such work. He loved to talk of higher things, and would gather the royal re- tainers in the twilight and discourse to them of nature in its beauty and power, of plants and their changes, of animals and their haunts. He spoke of trees, from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop that springeth from the wall, and he told the hidden lore of the stars, and all with such grace that the servants began to esteem him, and the cook made him his assist- ant. The dishes that Solomon prepared pleased the King, and he was appointed chief steward. How the household rejoiced at his advancement ! but none with greater pride than Naama, the lovely daughter of the King, a fair and stately maiden, whose heart had gone out to Solomon. And Solomon recipro- cated her affection; he sang to her thrilling songs of love. He compared her beauty to Jerusalem, and bade her turn away her eyes 26 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. lest they might undo him in their splendor. He prayed for the shadows to flee and the day to dawn — the shadows of servitude and the day of restoration to his throne. Then, as his tones of sadness made her counten- ance troubled, he changed his mood and exclaimed, " Set me as a seal upon thine heart, As a seal upon thine arm. For love is as strong as death." The secret of their love could not long remain concealed. Despite Naama's entreaties, Sol- omon was condemned to death, and it was only her mother's tears that influenced the King to sentence him instead to lifelong exile in the desert. In the solitude .of this wilderness Solo- mon's heart was chastened at last, his proud, boastful spirit purified. God seemed nearer to him in his loneliness than when he reveled in Jerusalem. Was it his pure love for Naama which had worked the change, or his long-con- tinued wanderings and sufferings .'' He felt a different man. Hope sprang anew in his heart. THE FAUST OF THE TALMUD. 27 not of power or earthly aggrandizement, but a hope of higher things — wisdom, love, right- eousness. " I thank thee, my Creator,'' he cried, as he bowed in prayer. " Thou hast taught me the lesson. Thou art the King of kings alone. Blessed be Thy holy Name." Full of peace, although his raiment was tat- tered, he left the desert and entered a city by the sea. A fisherman approached and offered a fish for sale. He purchased it with his last coin, and opening it, found therein his l)oly signet - ring, which Ashmodai had cast into the sea. But little remains to be told. How Solomon regained his regal splendor, how he married the faithful Naama, how he confronted Ash- modai the usurper and made him vanish at sight of the ring, how he assembled the San- hedrim and told them all his trials and tri- umphs — is this not written between the lines in the Talmud? But while the people soon forgot the romance and the tragedy, and the story of the King's return became only a nine- 28 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. days' wonder, Solomon himself never lost the impressions of those years of wandering. A certain fear never left his mind; and in the night-time, so the Song of Songs relates, his couch was guarded by sixty armed men. THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS. "\T7H0 could be happier than Solomon? * • His land was at peace, his treasury full, his power acknowledged by the nations; his fleet covered the seas; his court attracted the best and wisest of his age. Learning and science, art and the industries flourished. Jeru- salem, his capital, shone with unexampled splendor; its Temple and stately edifices, pub- lic and private, were the glory of the time, and thousands of strangers, drew near from all cor- ners of the earth. It was indeed a stirring life which the streets of Jerusalem daily witnessed — the meeting place of Orient and Occident. Yet Solomon was ill at ease despite his grandeur. His wisdom, the source of his strength, was also the secret of his weakness. Strange irony of fate! He knewall languages, spoke three thousand proverbs, many of which were to be transmitted from age to age, and 29 30 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. sang a multitude of songs. He knew the speech of birds and beasts, the mystery of trees and flowers; all nature was at his feet; he solved its riddles and became its sage interpreter. If his knowledge had not passed these limits, all would have been well, and the clouds of unrest would have been dissipated. But it transcend- ed things qf earth, and with bold confidence penetrated the secrets of the spheres above. It was his familiarity with the stars that gave him the sharpest pang. What, then, did the stars tell him .'' What dreadful catastrophe was threatening his house .'' These golden-eyed forget-me-nots, shining in the firmament of blue so peacefully and trustfully, could they presage woe .■" Solomon was blessed not only with power and wisdom, but also with a daughter of sur- passing loveliness. When the evening shad- ows fell upon Zion's hills, he loved to sing to her his choicest song. In the morning hours, his converse with her was his sole recreation. His soul was knitted to hers with passionate tenderness. When affairs of state weighed upon him and a thousand perplexities were to THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS. 3 1 be faced, he turned to her and found relief She was his solace and inspiration, as was her mother in the days of his youth, when to wed the maiden of his heart he left throne and peo- ple, and wandered, a foot-sore pilgrim, until he met Naama and plighted his royal troth. How rapidly had the years passed since then ! what changes had they brought ! But Solo- mon lived again his old-time romance as he saw Naama's eyes in his daughter's counte- nance. And the princess repaid the father's love by a daughter's devotion — he was in truth her ideal king, for she knew the tender side of his nature, the heart-throbbings which he must restrain from public view. One evening as Solomon was observing the stars, the thought occurred to him to discover who was destined to be the princess's husband. Without delay he set to work: he would learn her good fortune. Long and intently he gazed at the constellations. Silent and profound were his meditations in the watches of the night; and then, just as the first dim light spanned the far east, and the morning stars were singing their cradle-song for the new day, 32 STOJilES FROM 7'HE RABBIS. the monarch's heart felt an unaccustomed pain. He read the secret of his daughter's fate. There it stood, blazoned, all too plainly, on the fiery constellation — she was to wed the poorest man in Israel ! She, a princess, and his daughter ! Solomon left his watch-tower with agonized soul. The knowledge he had gained fairly overwhelmed him. For once the rising day, which was wont to arouse his poetic powers, had for him no charm. Bird-note, flower-fra- grance, the music of rippling waters, the mag- nificence of his surroundings, his books, songs, and favorite pastimes, palled upon him. His lovely daughtet in vain strove to soothe his disturbed spirit, which first amazed, then alarmed her. Each fresh endearment only increased his irritation. Her voice, once so gentle, seemed to him as harsh as a condor's scream. Her maiden heart was troubled in- deed as she noticed the change in the King, which she could not fathom nor control, and she withdrew, weeping, fi'om his presence. "It shall not be!" Solomon exclaimed in his wrath and consternation. " My daughter wed a beggar ! A pauper's child to sit upon THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS. 33 the throne of David ! Nay, I shall defeat the Almighty. I shall " There fell a sudden silence on his imperious spirit. A picture from the past arose before his vision, faint at first and then clearer and more vivid in outline. It was a king hurled from his throne on account of his insatiate pride and ambition, and doomed to wander unknown and to suffer severe privations until he had learned the lesson of self-control and confi- dence in the Almighty. He saw the precious ring which he gave Ashmodai, and heard the fierce yell of triumph as the demon ascended the throne, while he — Solomon the Great — sank down, down, into an unfathomable abyss. Then another picture arose in memory — the weary fugitive, spurned and despised on all sides, famine-stricken and sick at heart, until the lesson of peace was learned at last. " Forgive me, forgive me. Almighty ! " he cried passionately. " Must I learn again the fearful cost of mortal pride .' Forgive me for doubting Thy purposes and measuring mypuny powers with the Infinite ! Let Thy will be done. I shall watch Thy wisdom and abide by 34 STORIES FROM THE RABSIS. the result. My heart has lost its anguish and its fear. I trust in Thee with my whole heart and shall not lean to my own understanding." Upon the rocky sea-coast, far distant from the haunts of men, Solomon had a lofty tower constructed. It was surrounded on all sides by walls high and inaccessible. People won- dered at the building, but Solomon, uncon- cerned, continued the work until it was com- pleted. Thither one night he had the princess brought, and placed her in charge of seventy aged custodians. The princess herself could interpose no objection or resistance to the royal will. " This shall be your home," said he to the oldest and trustiest. "It is amply pro- visioned for years to come. There is no door to the fortress, so no one can enter without the sentinel's knowledge. Be vigilant. Keep the princess in sight every instant. Your heads shall be the price of your remissness." The days, the weeks, the months flew by, and the princess lived uncomplainingly in her solitary abode, so firm was her trust in Sol- omon. She felt confident that all was for the THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS. 35 best, and restrained her impatience and won- derment. One night a poor, helpless wanderer was toiling along, tired and hungry, his garments tattered, his heart utterly cast down. At last he could move no further, such was his ex- haustion, and seeking a spot to rest, he saw the skeleton of an ox in a neighboring field. Thankful for the shelter from the cheerless wind, he crept inside, and with a silent prayer fell asleep. The elements raged without, but he cared not for the storm. He forgot his cares and sufferings in blessed, restful sleep, and hope struck golden chords in the witchery of dreams. While the traveler thus slept, all unconscious of what was preparing for him, a huge bird with mighty pinions alighted from the distant hills, and lifting up the skeleton with the youth at rest, bore them aloft to the very summit of Solomon's tower. The burden then proving too heavy, it was set down on the roof, before the door of the princess. Then the bird flew away with a shrill scream, that thoroughly awakened the young traveler. He arose in terror, gazed about him amazed, and began to 36 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. walk up and down the roof, from which he could descry only the rocks below and the clouds above. In the distance he saw the fast- disappearing pinions of the bird that had brought him there, and a sharp pang smote his heart as the full measure of his wretchedness was realized. He was a hopeless prisoner — to what further misery was he to become a prey .'' Suddenly he sees a woman advancing tow- ard him. She is young and beautiful, and with a commanding air, yet gracious and kind. It was the princess taking her daily stroll on the roof. Astonished at sight of the youth, she exclaimed, " Who art thou ? How camest thou here .? " " I am a Jew of Acco," was the reply. " It was a bird that brought me." " But thou art tired and tattered," she con- tinued, pityingly. " Thy face bears the marks of misfortune. Thou art troubled and suffer- ing. Come, tell me thy history." He told her of his wanderings, and how he had sunk to rest in the skeleton of an ox, and then of his flight through the air. How en- tranced did she listen to his story, admiring THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS. 3 7 his courage, and sympathizing with his sorrows. She had him clothed in new garments. Her servants bathed and anointed him. Then his eyes shone with new radiance, and his whole being assumed a lovelier aspect. As they spoke and strolled together kindred tastes were revealed. For the first time the princess real- ized the beauty in her father's words, written decades before: " My friend is mine, and I am his; " while the youth, as he contemplated the solitary tower and the imprisoned maiden, ex- claimed with Solomon: "A locked-up garden is my sister - bride; a locked-up spring, a sealed fountain." The north wind blew", and the south wind blew. They loved, for both were beautiful to each other, and the world was before them. What should they do 1 Fly, and seek happi- ness in some distant spot far away from the king, whose anger they had now every reason to fear.? "Nay, nay, beloved!" she ardently ex- claimed. "My father's wisdom would discover our hiding-place, and his chieftain, Benaiah, -would drag us back to Jerusalem, to meet per- haps a criminal's fate." 38 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. " There is one resource, dearest," he rejoined after a pause. " Marry me here." " Marry thee .' Yes, that I will, but how can we marry according to the law of Israel .■" Where is the ink with which to write the mar- riage certificate .? Hast thou thought of that ? " " Despair not ! " was his reassuring reply. " I am prepared for every emergency." He bared hisarm,and,openingasmall vein, used his blood as ink, and the marriage was secretly solem- nized, with the words," May God be my witness to-day, and the angels Michael and Gabriel ! " Their spell of happiness was brief. The cus- todians of the princess were thrown into the wildest consternation when they discovered what had taken place. They stormed, they raged, they threatened. But it was too late to argue with the pair. No more time was to be lost, so they hastily sent the swiftest-footed of their number to the royal palace, and the story was told. Solomon no sooner heard the announcement of his daughter's marriage than he ordered his mantle to be brought for instant use. It was of green silk, interwoven with fine gold, and THE WOOING OF 2^HE PRINCESS. 39 embroidered with images of all kinds. He sat upon it, and swiftly was borne on the wind to the solitary tower. " Where is the youth," he vehemently cried, as he gained entrance, " who has dared to marry my daughter .' " " Nay, father," the princess pleaded, " be not angry with him. He has endured enough of wretchedness — why begrudge him his spell of happiness } Reproach me, but spare him, for love is our master, and thou didst write in thy ' Song of Songs,' ' love is as strong as death.' " He deigned no reply to his daughter. His thoughts were of the man who had won her affections. " So thou art the one who has pre- sumed to marry a princess ! " he exclaimed, scornfully, as the youth was brought to him, showing not a trace of fear. "Oh, King," he rejoined, calmly, "be not too severe ! I but obeyed the words of Solo- mon: 'Many waters are not able to quench love, nor can the waters flood it away.' " " Who is thy father, and where thy dwelling- place .' " inquired the king, softening a little at the youth's torie and 'words, 40 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. "I am the son ofa poor Jew of Acco," was the answer. "Altamar is his name." And his heart grieved as he thought of his family's poverty. " What .^ " almost shouted the king, while he trembled in his agitation. " The son of Alta- mar of Acco, the poorest man in Israel ! " " Yes, oh. King, I am that poor man's son," and the youth for the moment lost his courage, but regained confidence as he saw the princess step forward and take her place proudly at his side, looking lovingly at him. " He is my husband," she exclaimed in a clear, firm voice, " according to the laws of Is- rael. With his blood he has sealed our troth. Our union is irrevocable. A higher Power has led us on. Thou canst not part us now." "Nay, nay, my daughter," Solomon re- sponded, deeply moved. " He is indeed thy husband and my son," and he beckoned them both to approach nearer. " Thou art the very man who — so the stars told me — was destined for my daughter. Thy name, thy lineage, thy estate proclaim thee the same. God is the ruler of the universe : He declares, and it comes to pass. Blessed is He who giveth a wife to man." THE RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE TALMUD. A GES ago — it was about fifteen hundred ■^ *■ years — there lived a man whose name was Rabbi Honi. In his busy and stirring limes he loved solitude, the quiet fields, the silent hills, the lonely mountain rivulet, any- thing that would make him forget his daily surroundings. He liked to take long walks by himself, in such profound meditation that he heeded not the passing scene. He refused, self-absorbed, to mingle in the varied life of the world. The cheerful forge, the merry reaper, the crowded street, boys and girls at play, music and games— he would spurn all these, and far away from the haunts and habi- tations of men would he wander, as if this bright and blessed world had neither charm nor interest for him. " What is life } what is life ? " he asked him- 41 42 STORIES FROM TUE RABBIS. self, as with slow and measured step he crossed the meadows, far beyond the outskirts of his native town. " It is like the fleeting shadow,'' so he thought; " not like the shadow of a tree, nor yet the shadow of a wall, but like the shad- ow of a bird, which mounts aloft, and swiftly flies away." He sighed as he went along, as though he were bearing some hidden burden, some un- known care, that changed into wretchedness the currents of his being. But his sadness was converted into wonderment, as he saw an old man planting a carob-tree. Love and happi- ness beamed from that aged face, while with trembling hands and tottering limbs he busied himself with the task. " Unfortunate man ! " cried Honi, in a voice of scorn, "what folly is thine! Dost thou waste thy feeble powers in planting a tree whose fruit will grow in seventy years .? Dost thou hope to live so long } Poor fool, poor fool ! It is a world of fools." " Master," the old man replied in gentle tones, "thou art mistaken; I plant the tree, not for myself, In my youth, I gathered fruit RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE TALMUD. 43 from trees which my grandsires planted; and now I, too, would provide in this way, at least, for the happiness of my descendants. It is an innocent pleasure, on my part, and makes me happy." And the old man, with heightened color and shining eyes, continued his work. " Happiness, happiness ! " murmured Honi to himself " What is happiness when life is so fleeting, and failure the universal law of nature .■" Why should we concern ourselves with the fu- ture, when our present burdens are so many, with no prospect of cessation .'' Why provide that our children gather ripe, luscious fruit, to make their lives happier .'' Will they not suffer and die, and is not our labor vain .■■ " Unable to answer these questions, oppressed by doubt, and wearied by his walk, Honi sank upon the grass and fell asleep with a child's unconsciousness. The sun sank to rest, and still the rabbi slept. The stars shone in the clear Eastern skies, and still he slept. Dawn broke, and midday came, and a hundred nights passed, and still he slumbered. What profound peace was his ! Soon a wall of stones sprang up around him, and formed a friendly shelter 44 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. that hid him from passers-by. So the years ran on with rapid tread, summer and winter, seed- time and harvest, with all their varied changes, and the rabbi did not wake, although each day the sunbeams hastened to greet his resting- place, diffused a kindly heat, and seemed re- luctant to leave. Was this circle of stones his cemetery .-' Was the rabbi forgotten by the world, whose claims he had not recognized .' Seventy years had elapsed, when suddenly the stone wall disappeared as mysteriously as it had first originated, and the rabbi awoke. He rose to his feet a little awkwardly at the start, as if unused to much exertion. Then he rubbed his eyes, glanced in every direction, and exclaimed: "I have had a pretty long sleep. It was scarcely night when I sank to rest, and now it is almost midday. How stiff my limbs are ! I must hurry home." Somewhat dazed by the sudden glare of the sun, and with a peculiar confusion in mind and gait he set upon his way. His steps were slow and hesitating, when, seeing a carob-tree, he stood rooted to the spot. Like birds ^returning RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE TALMUD. 45 to their nest, his thoughts flew back to the scene — the old man, the planting of the tree, his own words of scorn seventy years before. Surprised, amazed, he approached nearer, and saw how stately the tree had grown, with its rich vegetation. A lad was eating of its fruit. " Boy, boy ! " exclaimed Honi, in a voice of anxiety which was not to be restrained; " tell me, who planted this carob-tree .? " " Not I," the lad replied, with a light laugh. " Don't you know how long it takes such a tree to bear fruit .'' Why, my father told me that it was planted by my grandsire." And the boy continued eating to his satisfaction, without noticing the stranger's anxious glance and pe- culiar garb. The lad's words were not lost upon Honi; he grasped at once their true significance. He knew at last that he had slept seventy years. A nameless dread fell upon him as he resumed his way homeward. But the once familiar path had disappeared — the hills of his youth had been leveled. The. green sward, which had yielded to his footsteps of old, had given place to rows of houses, and the long line of spread- 46 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. ing trees, beneath which he had so often mused, was no more to be seen. The blue sky, so radiant in sunshine, seemed more distant than ever. Earth and heaven alike had changed. He was soon in the heart of his native town, but he recognized it not. The streets, the houses, the people, were alike strange. There was not a friendly hand stretched forth to grasp his own; not a smile greeted him; not a voice gave him welcome. The multitude passed him idly by. There were curious looks directed on him, and he caught now and then a contempt- uous phrase. Some countenances seemed familiar to him, but they stared coldly when he began to address them, and his heart sank within him. " If my friends and acquaintances no longer know me," so ran his thoughts, "at least my family will not spurn me; to them I will go, and seek rest in their midst." Buoyed up by sudden hope, he inquired of a passer-by the dwelling of Honi's family, and soon with loudly throbbing heart knocked at the door. It opened, and a scene of household RIP VAN WtNKLE OP THE TALMUD. 47 happiness was revealed. There were strong, healthy lads at play, their smiling mother shar- ing their joy, and a man of well-knit frame ply- ing his work. As Honi entered, the room grew silent, and all eyes were cast compassionately upon the bearded stranger, with the sad, weary countenance. Approaching the man, Honi asked in a trembling tone, " Wilt thou call for me the son of Honi .? " " Honi's son ! " replied the man with an astonished air. " Why, he has been dead many years." "But who art thou, then.?" And the old man's head sank lower and lower. " I am Honi's grandson." With a loud exclamation of jo,y, Honi drew nearer his grandson, and was about to embrace him rapturously, saying: " I am thy grand- father." But the man coldly stepped back, gazed at him a moment, and said: "Thou my grand- father ! I do not know thee ! I never saw thee ! What monstrous imposition dost thou wish to practise on us .-' " 48 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Honi then told his wondrous story of the sleep under the wall of stones, of his sudden awakening, and his return. He described his sense of desolation and helplessness, when he found himself a stranger among strangers, and he entreated them to deal with him more kindly and justly, being flesh of their flesh. Honi's eloquence had at least one effect— it convinced his hearers of his sincerity. He evi- dently believed that he was the long-missing Honi, and they had not the heart to undeceive him, or openly tell him of their want of faith. They resolved to humor him, and receive him as an honored guest in the house, allowing him to do whatever he pleased. Thus Honi returned. His story was noised abroad. He became the talk of the town. They all thronged to see him, and to learn if he really was the rabbi whose mysterious dis- appearance had aroused such comment at the time, to be forgotten with the new generation. The stir and inquiry, however, soon grew less, then ceased entirely, and Honi was left to him- self again. The home of his youth had under- gone a transformation: it was his no more. At RIP VAN WINKLE OF THE TALMUD. 49 his own hearth he was a stranger. When he had many friends, he had abandoned them, and courted soHtude; now, when he yearned for love and friendship, he was doomed to solitude. The whirligig of time brings its revenges. He strove to rouse himself as the days flew by. He would mingle with the teachers, for he had been a teacher in his time. When he met them he knew them not, nor did they rec- ognize him. It was pathetic for him to note in the school of learning how his name was spoken with great veneration, his verses quoted, hi.s opinions discussed, his principles referred to and made the subject of keen controversy. And he sat and listened as if he were already buried — he, the living Honi — while his eyes were full of tears. He often wondered whether, in the years when he was concealed by the circle of stones, he was less an object of concern than now, when he breathed the air of heaven and thrice each day uttered his praise to God — at morn, midday and eve. Why had life been restored to him, if his existence was to continue a bit- ter mockery .■" Why must his yearnings and 50 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. aspirations remain ever unsatisfied ? He loved mankind, and he was spurned by men. He delighted in the merry prattling and sunny glances of children, and when he appeared they ran away in fear. If in his manhood he had preferred study and solitude to fellowship with his kind, surely his penance had been bitter enough. Must the punishment be everlasting.' In his despair he shunned the school and the haunts of men with all his olden persistence. He sought the solitude again, buried in moody contemplation, which no effort of his could throw aside. One morning, following a lonely path beyond the outskirts of the town, he sank on the ground and exclaimed: " Give me soci- ety, O God, or give me death ! I am alone on earth and my punishment is greater than I can bear. Call me to Thyself and to peace." His imploring prayer was not in vain. His broken spirit soon found peace. Upon the wings of compassion God's kiss was breathed upon him and he slept. His life's stormy cur- rents were calmed at last. RABBINICAL ROMANCE. T T might be fairly presumed that the rabbis -^ of the Talmud lived in too troublous times and wrestled with too profound problems to give a thought to romance of any kind. But just as in later centuries among their Arab kinsmen, not all the heat of conflict could check the strains of the gentler muse, which diversify Arabic literature with songs of love and beauty, so the rabbis pause for a while in their discussions of law and practice, and lighten up the pages of Talmud and Midrash by quaint and charming pictures of romance, which appear the more beautiful when one re- flects on the circumstances of their age. It was not an epoch of sonnets and serenades by any means. They had neither troubadours nor poetasters. Their school was hardly the Delia Cruscan. Their tournaments were of an en- tirely different character; their master-songs 52 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. were of another key. The Bible was their one epic, the prose and poetry of the people, the standard of life, the measure of their aspira- ration. Its lofty ideal of marriage was pre- served in Jewish jurisprudence; its divine sanc- tion gave a singular dignity and solemnity to the institution among the Hebrews. The idyls of the Patriarchs, the " valiant woman" of Prov- erbs, the love scenes of the "Song of Songs," proved the forerunners of rabbinical romance and invested it with their own beauty and at- tractiveness. Of the pictures of rabbinical romance which have been preserved, few equal in charm the following: There appeared once before the famous Simon ben Jochai an Israelite and his wife who desired a divorce, as their union had not been blessed with children. The rabbi received them kindly, heard their story, acqui- esced in their resolve; but suggested in cordial tones that, lest people might suspect them of improper motives or attribute to them some disgrace, the parting should be of the most friendly character. He bade them return home, provide a feast for their friends, and on the RABBINICAL ROMANCE. 53 morrow apply to him for a legal divorce, which he would cheerfully grant. The couple were pleased with the rabbi's advice and kindliness, and hastened to prepare a bountiful feast for their friends. As they were getting ready for the banquet, the husband gently said to his wife : " For many a year, in sunshine and in storm, we have lovingly lived together. I can bear the highest testimony to thy faithful affec- tion ; and on my part I have tried to prove loyal to thee. If we separate no_w, it is not in sudden anger or hatred. That is far from our thoughts. As a pledge, then, of my warm at- tachment, thou canst take with thee whatever thou likest best in the house, however great its value. It shall be thine as an everlasting possession." The wife's eyes gleamed sus- piciously, but she said nothing, assenting with a smile to her husband's agreement. The even- ing arrived. The feast began. It was as boun- tiful as their means allowed. When, one by one, the guests had succumbed to its influence, and her husband, too, had fallen asleep, the good woman had him removed to her father's home and awaited hopefully the result. He 54 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. awoke at last from his stupor and could not un- derstand the situation until she softly said : " Dost thou not remember what thou didst bid me do — to take away what I liked best in thy house ? Well, it is my husband that I prefer to everything else. Naught but death shall part us." When the two visited the rabbi again and told him that they proposed indefinitely to postpone the divorce, he blessed the pair in his fervor, and they had sons and daughters in due course. This fond wife's expedient was imi- tated in after centuries by the Giilph countess, whose castle was besieged by the Emperor Con- rad, and who besought as a favor that the women might be allowed to pass out unmolested with whatever valuables they could carry. Next day, when the gates were opened, every wife was seen carrying her husband and children, and the unmarried women those nearest and dearest ! Rabbi Jose had the misfortune to be mar- ried to a violent shrew, and when he found life unbearable in her society, he was reluctantly obliged to divorce her, according to the letter of the law. She married again, and the years RABBINICAL ROMANCE. 55 rolled on. Her second husband, after a length- ened period of suffering, became blind, and they were both reduced to such poverty that she was compelled to lead him through the streets begging for bread. But a feeling of shame al- ways caused her to avoid the neighborhood of Rabbi Jose's house. The rabbi's reputation for benevolence having reached the blind man's ears, he asked her why she did not lead him thither, and when she told him the reason, he insisted upon her accompanying him. to the rabbi's. But the poor woman's sensitiveness was not so easily overcome, and she flatly re- fused to go. Without any more delay, then, he beat her so severely that her cries attracted a crowd of people, all eager to witness the pro- ceedings. Amid the confusion. Rabbi Jose appeared on the scene. Learning quickly the state of affairs, he had their wants attended to at once, provided a house for them, and main- tained them out of his own meagre income. When his inquisitive disciples asked him whether she was not the same woman who had previously made his life so wretched, he re- plied, " Yes, and for that reason I am bound 56 stosiEs Prom the rabbis. to assist her; for is it not written, ' do not shut thine eyes against thine own flesh ?' " The rab- bi never forgot that she was once his wife, and for the sake of his early dream of bliss, which he had never realized, his heart was filled with compassion. It was indeed a lofty ideal of womanhood to which the rabbis paid homage. The Hebrew term for betrothal, Kiddushin, " sanctification," proves the high import of marriage among them. If so famous a master as Judah the Prince could permit his disciples to accom- pany a bridal procession as it passed the Academy, it is evident that the rabbis were no gloomy ascetics, as they have often been paint- ed. One thinks, too, of the charming tale of Rabbi Meir's wife, of which Coleridge has given an English version that is tolerably well known, and who, to break gently the intelli- gence of his sons' death, compared them to jewels entrusted to his care for a few days, and then demanded back by their owner. " Pray not that sinners be destroyed," said the same wife on another occasion; " pray rather that sin perish from the earth, and that sinners re- RABBINICAL ROMANCE. 57 pent and mend their ways." The name of this gentlp universalist was Beruria. " Vex not thy wife," said Rab, "for she is easily moved to tears." " The whole world grows dark to him who has lost his first wife," writes another sage. " Who has no wife has nothing good, no joy, no blessing, no peace." "Descend a step to gain a wife." " If she be smaller than thou art, bend a little and whisper in her ear." "With zeal and solicitude honor thy wife, for it is the wife that crowns the home with a bless- ing." " Who is best taught 1 " a rabbi asked. " He who has learned from his mother." The gentle ministry of worhen, to which Ernest Renan has paid a tribute in his recognition of the services rendered him by his mother, his sis- ter and his wife, is attested in the story of Ishmael ben Elisha and his mother. She loved him almost to, adoration, and when he attained eminence, she strove to brighten his home life, and would insist upon performing menial duties for his comfort and pleasure, even washing his tired feet when he returned from the academy. Her unselfish ministry at last reached a point where he thought it unworthy 58 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. cf a mother, and he refused to submit to her patient and persistent affection. The next day- she appeared in the academy, and accused her son of violating the commandment of honoring one's parents. Surprised at the charge, the rabbis asked her to explain herself, and then she related how her son, whose learning she idolized, and who was her guest as well as son, prevented her evincing the proper respect to him. It was decided that Rabbi Ishmael should obey her command as the fulfillment of filial duty. The rabbis could appreciate valor and mor- al dignity as well as motherly tenderness in women. They tell that when Alexander the Great, on one of his expeditions, reached a country governed by women, he was about to attack the capital. Just before the signal to advance was given, a woman of lofty stature and noble countenance stepped bravely for- ward and asked Alexander what brought him to her land. When the king replied that he had come to fight and conquer, she rejoined: " Hast thou come to battle with women } Are the men all dead, that thou wishest to display RABBINICAL ROMANCE. 5g thy prowess with us ? Believe me, thou wilt find it more difficult to subjugate us than thou art inclined to fancy. But shouldst thou conquer, will it not be said that thou conqueredst weak women ? Should we, however, prove victors, think, O great Alexander, of the disgrace to thee, and of thy glory forever clouded ! Leave our country, then, and attack lands more wor- thy of thy arms." She ceased, and Alexander was so charmed by her courage and sense that he clasped her hand as a sign of peace and friendship, and only craved permission to in- scribe the following on the gates of the cap- ital: " I, Alexander the madman, after having subdued so many countries, have at last come to this land, and learned wisdom from women." The rabbis liked to apply similes which Holy Writ employs, and express in a parable the relation of Israel to God as that of bride and bridegroom. There lived once — they say — a man who betrothed himself to a beautiful maiden, and then, after he had gained the pledge of her affection, he left her and went away, while the maiden in her sorrow waited for his return, but without avail. Her com- 6o STORIES PROM THE RABBIS. panions and rivals mocked her and exclaimed: "Why dost thou idly wait? He will never return to thee." Did the maiden abandon her faith in the absent bridegroom ? Just the re- verse. She went into her room and took out one by one the letters in which he had vowed his fealty. She read them again and again, and was comforted amid her tears. And her loving confidence was amply rewarded. He did return at last, and when he inquired why she had kept her faith so long and what hope sustained her, she showed him the precious letters. Similarly, when Israel was in misery and captivity, she was mocked by the nations for her hopes of redemption, and taunted with many a bitter sneer. But, undisturbed in her faith, Israel went into her schools and syna- gogues and took out the letters and was con- soled in her afflictions. In due time God, her bridegroom, would come and redeem her, and when He would say, " What hope has cheered thee .'' how couldst thou, among all the nations that mocked, retain thy loyalty .■' " Is- rael would exultantly point to the Law and answer, " Did I not have Thy promise here .'' " THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE. TT was the old, old story, and yet as new -*- then beneath the glowing Palestinian skies as to-day in cottage or palace. He, the poor unlettered shepherd, had the effrontery to love his master's daughter, who had many wealthy suitors, for her wealth and beauty had proved powerful magnets. Hired to watch the rich Kalba's flocks, by the subtle influence of love alone Akiba had won Rachel's affections. Their union, bitterly opposed by her father, who saw all his cherished hopes and plans thus defeated, had been finally consummated. Kalba's threats and imprecations were alike in vain; with a woman's 'insight Rachel saw the gold in her husband's nature, she had faith in his intellectual capacity, and went with him in love's glad confidence. To her he was more than a rustic clown. From her father's magnificent dwelling, 6i 62 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. whence she had been banished,to the wretched hut which was now to be her home, no change could have been greater. Delicately reared, she was to suffer the keenest anxiety. Her every wish had hitherto been granted, her every desire gratified. How different was her present outlook ! But she cared not if poverty was to be henceforth her lot. Its sharpest stings lost their pain when she pictured to her- self the happy future.' The world would learn to recognize her husband's powers, and all privation would be forgotten. What a sorcer- er is love — what a net it weaves ! Would it prove a dream or reality .'' One day they were reduced to such extreme want that they spent their time in picking up straw from the barns and roadway to serve them as a bed. The prophet Elijah, who is ever ready to aid the loving in heart and strengthen their affection, assumed a beggar's attire — • for he is prolific in disguises — and knocked at Akiba's door, and it was quickly opened. "Good people, kind people," he cried, " give a few bits of straw to a poor and un- happy man, whose wife is in sore distress." THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE. 63 "Why, dearest," said Akiba to his wife, as the stranger departed having not asked in vain, "how happy we should be ! What if our means are straitened, there are people poorer than ourselves, who do not possess even a little straw. Should we not be grateful that we can aid them ? " " I do not murmur," she rejoined. " I am blessed in thy love, which many waters cannot quench, nor rivers sweep away. I do not com- plain, for in thine eyes I have found peace. And yet I have one wish," she continued, gaz- ing at him earnestly; " it is that thou shouldst attain the full measure of thy strength. But I shall not be impatient or importunate. God heeds the yearning of the seedlet, and He sends His dew and sunbeam. His rain and wind, and it becomes a perfect flower. So shall He make thee a perfect man — all in His own good time." Akiba did not and could not forget his wife's soulful words. They swiftly flew from her heart, and made a nest in his. Pehaps he had never appreciated education aright, nor cared in reality to attain eminence in the daily round 64 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. of humble duties which he had to discharge. But a new desire sprang up in his soul. In his lowly avocations each day his wife's words were heard — those mute reminders of duty to be done, of work to be achieved, of aspirations to be realized. Even as King David, when a shepherd lad, had listened, entranced, to the songs of the night — star, planet, and the host of creation uniting in grateful testimony to the Divine power arid mercy — Alciba's heart, too, had often been stirred as he watched nature in its silence and majesty. What doubts and questionings would wrestle with him, what am- bitions struggle for utterance ! How his eyes became clearer, and his mind more certain ! How his hopes revived and strengthened, his fears diminished and passed away ! The world was full of mysteries — would they ever be explained .? Scripture was to him a closed roll — would it ever be opened } It chanced once, as he was thus reflecting, that he approached a wayside well, near which he noticed a stone somewhat excavated. When he asked a passer-by who had excavated the stone, he was told that it was caused by THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE. 65 drops of water continually falling, upon it. " If so soft a body," he then said to himself, " can excavate a stone, surely the precious words of the Law must more readily soften my heart, and purify my understanding. The die is cast. I shall hesitate no more. I shall attempt to realize my wife's ideal. I must sit at the feet of the sages, and drink from the well of their knowledge. I must rise above my present lowly calling, and heed the voice that bids me aspire higher. I must become a perfect man, a holy teacher in Israel, and God's mercy, which causes the flower to blossom, will aid me in developing my powers to their fullest bloom." He quickly made known his resolve to his wife, with an exultation that was new to him. She bravely restrained the tears, as she thought of his enforced absence, and the hard struggle for existence which both must wage for years to come. She sweetened the interval before his departure by painting pictures of his suc- cess, if he were true to the voice within. The period of separation would pass as swiftly and unconsciously as a dream, and with what joy would she greet him on his return, a master in 66 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Israel ! Then her father, reconciled at last, would hasten to acknowledge his merits, and their lives would be crowned with enduring happiness. "Oh, hasten! hasten, dearest!" were her words at parting. " Fulfill thy vocation. Be- come a teacher of thy people. Each day shall be a messenger of peace, bringing good tidings of thee. Dost thou not recall the prophet's say- ing: ' Behold, my servant shall be wise. He shall be exalted, and extolled, and raised on high ' } " For mourners the years ^re heavily freight- ed, and for lovers they fly with an arrow's speed. The seasons quickly changed; the years rapidly rolled by. Five, ten, twelve times, in the swift transformations of nature, had the early roses perfumed the wayside, and the snows whitened the hills. From time to time vague rumors had spread of the famous scholar, who had gathered a host of disciples around him, and expounded the Law with such marvelous clearness and sim- plicity that all the land wondered. His expla- nations were couched in terms that even chil- THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE. 67 dren could understand. He had developed a new system of study, which led to surprising results. His lectures were thronged, and his school grew illustrious from Rome to Jerusalem. He loved to preach in parables, and his sayings were twice-told tales, which people liked to hear and take to heart — so beloved and ad- mired was he. And now he was to return, after the many years of absence. The shepherd had become the master. The wife's fond desire had been fulfilled. But did he think of her when he reached his olden home .-" Had he forgotten his source of inspiration, and, buried in the study of the Law and the sciences, lost all memory of the faithful soul who had chosen him and pov- erty .' Perhaps she had not survived the twelve years' unaided struggle — she, with her delicate rearing, her youth and inexperience, to wrestle with hunger and want and pain .'' Better to have died than to have lived broken-hearted at a great man's ingratitude. When Rachel learned that Akiba was ex- pected at last, who can describe her rapture .■" Her wildest hopes had been more than real- 68 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. ized; for she never had imagined that her husband would attain such celebrity. She would have been amply satisfied with modest fame, and now a world-wide reputation had been won. But perhaps he has forgotten her in the changes of the years — that often hap- pens in human history. Perhaps he has grown to despise the wretched hut and its inmate. Will he recognize his wife and accord her a rightful place at his side 1 The day had come. The place of assembly was crowded. The towns and villages in the neighborhood had flocked to welcome Akiba. Kalba, proud and austere as of old, was there. He had never been reconciled to his daughter, and was careless of her fate. Surrounded by his numerous disciples, Akiba received the greetings of the multitude. But he seemed dissatisfied. His gaze searched far and near, and his face wore an anxious look. Suddenly, at the very edge of the crowd, he saw one whose form had always hovered near, and whose love had ever urged him on. He saw a pallid woman, in tattered garments, whose wan face lit up with wondrous rapture as their eyes THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE. 6g met. One swift, penetrating glance told her that he was true, and in the intoxication of the moment the wretchedness of years of waiting and uncertainty was forgotten forever. " Rachel ! Rachel ! " he cried, breaking im- pulsively from his circle of disciples, and press- ing through the wondering throng. " Let her come forward ! " he shouted in loud and joyous tones. "Rachel, my wife, the shepherd's wife, to thee all honor is due ! Thou hast made me what I am : I and my pupils, we owe every- thing to thee." " My husband ! " she exclaimed, as she nes- tled in his embrace, "now I know the true meaning of Solomon's words, ' I am my be- loved's and his desire is toward me.' " " But thou art in tears, Rachel. In tears on such a happy day ! " he added, with the least bit of reproach in his voice. "Be not vexed," she rejoined, smiling. " These are not tears of sadness at the years that have passed, but tears of joy at thought of the happy, happy years to come." But little remains to be told. Kalba became reconciled to his daughter, and gave her a con- yO STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. siderable portion of his wealth; while Akiba was crowned with the threefold blessing — the love of a virtuous wife, a large share of earthly goods, and moral and intellectual endowments. In after years, during one of their discussions, a rabbi asked of his colleagues : "Who is to be regarded as rich ? " Various opinions were uttered as to what constituted wealth, until one authority declared that whoever possesses a hundred vineyards, a hundred acres, and a hundred servants must be accounted rich. " Not so ! " exclaimed Akiba, as the memory of his early romance rose before him. " He alone deserves to be called rich whose wife is sensible and virtuous." And Akiba ever treasured that sentiment until the hour of his martyrdom, when, in defence of the Law he loved so well, he met death at the hands of the Romans. THE REPENTANT RABBI. T T was a proud moment for the you>ng rabbi -*- when, his studies ended, he left the acad- emy with all its precious associations, and full of ardent hope, set out for his native place. He had every reason to feel the glow of conscious pride; for he had completed, with rare dili- gence, the course assigned, and attained the highest rank among his companions. He was familiar with the Law and the testimony in their multifold ramifications, with the uninter- rupted tradition of the schools from their earliest foundations, with the best learning of his time. He had flung himself into the work with a rare enthusiasm, and his rapid progress, his industry and acumen, had aroused the un- disguised admiration of his associates and the warm praise of the master, not always so ap- preciative. That a large amount of self-love mingled with the young man's intense feeling of satisfaction was perhaps natural. He was 71 72 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. at an age when humility hardly enters into the composition of character. It takes a varied experience to develop the finer shades of con- sciousness. " My pupil— nay, my master," said the head of the academy as the hour of departure arrived, "for my pupils are my masters — what advice can I give thee at this moment .' Thou hast abundant knowledge; thou hast high ambition; thou hast gained our sincere esteem. These are precious gifts which God has bestowed upon thee : see that they are not abused. Re- gard them as entrusted to thee for a holy pur- pose, not thine own aggrandizement. Of all men it is the gifted teacher whose responsi- bilities, are the most sacred and yet but idly heeded. Let me, then, exhort thee to observe this rule in the varied relations of life : Be pliant always as the reed ; that is, be kindly to all. And never be unbending like the cedar; that is, unforgiving to him who insults thee. Let this principle be the angel that shall guide and guard thee on the way." The farewells were gaily spoken, and the youth (for he was but a youth, although the THE REPENTANT RABBI. 73 dignity of rabbi had been conferred on him) began his homeward journey. He could scarcely restrain his exultation, as he rode along, at the thought of his reception in his native town and what honors would be show- ered upon him. It seemed but yesterday when he had left his -home and kindred to study to become a teacher, and now he was returning with all his expectations satisfied, his future se- cure. It was a lovely morn : all nature was in sympathy with his hopes and ideals. The charming landscape at his feet, the tinted sky overhead, the fragrance of spring around hirti, seemed smiling harbingers of happiness to come. If pictures of his parents' delight and the pleasure of his friends arose at times before him, and recollections of childhood softened his mood, the splendid vision of his own ad- vancement was ever present. It was an in- toxicating picture that fancy wove within his brain. He felt confident that his powers as teacher and preacher would give him the high- est place in Israel. "Master, master! " cried a voice, rudely in- terrupting his reverv. " Master ! " 74 STOJ?IES FROM THE RABBIS. He turned angrily. Who dared disturb the golden fabric of his dream, he, the young rabbi, whom all delighted to honor ? He was in no mood for importunate suppliants at that moment. It was a poor dwarf, crouching in the road, unsightly in face as in form. When he ob- served that the rabbi had turned in his direc- tion, he repeated his salutation, only too glad that he had been noticed. He was used to contempt and solitude, but what was his sur- prise and pain when the young rabbi exclaimed in a scornful tone: "Tell me, have all thy townspeople as hateful faces as is thine own .'' I would like to know before I resume my jour- ney." "I know not," replied the dwarf, cut to the quick and losing his self-control; " I know not. Go to the Artist who made me, and reproach Him for His handiwork. It was not my doing." "Pliant like the reed " — his master's parting words now recurred to him with tenfold force — kindly to all, unforgiving to none. How had he remembered the monition .' How was he applying the last lesson he had received } THE REPENTANT RABBI. 75 What was the vast range of his learning, com- pared with the dignity of a human soul that he had treated with such contempt ? Stung with self-reproach, and overwhelmed by a sudden sense of his own unworthiness, he cast himself on the ground by the dwarf's side, and begged his pardon with many an expression of regret. "I was hasty. Forgive my rudeness!" he exclaimed. " I have sinned against thee, but I beg thy pardon." But the bitterness in the dwarf's soul could not be so easily appeased. The constant re- buffs he received intensified his natural sensi- tiveness, and the rabbi's cutting words stirred his resentment to a flame. He spurned the proffered hand and made no other reply to the rabbi's entreaties than, " Go, go; reproach the Artist for His work. Thou art perhaps a bet- ter mechanic." They made a strange pair on the highway, the dwarf sullen and gloomy, followed by the rabbi half praying, half expostulating. But all in vain. The dwarf would not be comforted, and the rabbi had lost his golden dreams. Imagination had painted him as a conqueror 76 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. returning in triumph to the place of his birth; reality found him a suppliant and a penitent. The very landscape had changed; the sky no longer smiled; the birds no longer sang. His confidence had become contrition. It was known in his village that he was about to return, and tfie excitement was intense. The reverence for knowledge was so general among the people that the religious teacher stood in the highest esteem, and the post of rabbi became an ideal in its way. If cities competed for the honor of Homer's birthplace, no less local pride was felt in every Judaean town in being a famous rabbi's place of nativity. That compensated for the want of other claims to worldly eminence. There was ample justi- fication for the people's joy in this instance, because the young rabbi's reputation had pre- ceded him, and already they felt themselves entranced by his eloquence, and inspired by his learning. The red-letter day arrived. They would not wait for his appearance, but thronged the dusty road to meet him in ad- vance. Scarcely did they discern him in the distance when they ran forward in eager THE REPENTANT RABBI. 77 groups and blocked the way along which he had to pass, while loud plaudits filled the air. " Peace to thee, O master ! " they exclaimed, as he drew near. " Peace to thee, O teacher ! " The youth received their expressions of wel- come with the deepest embarrassment. In his profound humiliation and self-abasement he knew not what to say. Strange, his silence only increased the admiration of the people, who attributed his reticence to modesty, and redoubled their congratulations. In the meantime the dwarf had mingled with the throng, and heard the praises lavished on the young man. For a while he controlled himself, but at last his feelings gained the mas- tery, and he fiercely exclaimed: "To whom do ye extend such honor .■' Is he the Messiah, forsooth .'' " " What ! Dost thou not know him 1 " came the words from many lips. "We honor the scholar, the sage — our rabbi." "Scholar! rabbi!" repeated the dwarf with ever-increasing scorn. " May Israel never have such teachers ! " 78 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. "Man, art thou crazy?" they shouted in their surprise. "Listen, people, and judge between me and your precious rabbi; " and he told them of the insult which he had received. It was a pitiful recital, and heard in silence, It needed no confirmation. Upon the rabbi's face, usually so bright and hopeful, they read anguish and contrition. He had covered his countenance with his hands in his abasement, but suddenly he regained his self-control. "I have erred, dear friends," he said, firmly; " I have erred most grievously. It was a cruel, a shameless act, to reproach this poor man, and I am deeply sorry for my foolish words. It was without the least shadow of excuse; I confess it openly. What more can I do.'' I have asked him to forgive me, but he is as un- yielding as the cedar. My hasty speech has changed my joy into sorrow, and filled my soul with unutterable grief" "Pardon him!" the people cried, crowding around the dwarf " Pardon him ! Dost thou not see his penitence .' Pardon him for his wisdom's sake." THE REPENTANT RABBI. "jg "I shall pardon him," was the reply, after a short pause, " for your sakes, and that he may never commit again so grievous a sin." The next day was the Sabbath. The syna- gogue was filled with an attentive assembly from near and far, for was not the young rabbi to preach his first sermon .■' It was a critical moment for the preacher, but he did not fear. He had learned more from one day's experi- ence than from a year of study and reflection; for humility had entered his heart, and the warm gulf-stream of compassion was develop- ing his nature to a richer maturity. He felt stronger, more resolute, more hopeful in the growing sense of dependence on One whose mercies were unending, and whose gifts were boundless. The world had broadened uncon- sciously — the school was receding from view. In the stir of new duties and the pressure of new conditions, how unreal and fantastic ap- peared life at the academy, and the interpreta- tion of texts ! He was to study men, not books, and what should be the guide .? While his mind was wrestHng with these thoughts, he rose to preach, and a solemn silence reigned 8o STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. as he announced his text: " Be always pliant as a reed, and be never unbending like the cedar." But in the rabbi's heart, inspired by- new emotions and purified by the conscious- ness of human weakness, there was no silence; the joy-bells of gratitude were pealing an an- them to God. THE INHERITANCE. ' I ""HE heart of Hyrcanus was full of joyful -*- emotions. His pride and exultation knew no bounds. His fields were broad, his granaries full, his increasing flocks and herds grazed contentedly on the hillside, and a hun- dred youths and maidens hastened to do his bidding, and added to his rapidly growing wealth. But he was happiest when he noticed his sons hard at work at the plow or with the flail, their faces z\\ aglow with their daily toil, and he would pass along the line with many an encouraging word. " How happy the farmer's life ! " was his fre- quent remark. " He is his own master; sun- light, dew, rain, heat are his eager servants. God, with lavish hand, places fruit and flower at his feet and scatters on every side the re- wards of his labor. My sons shall be farmers, too — not so, my lads .■' Farmers, strong, ruddy. §2 srdRiEs Prom thp rabbis. alert, like your sire, to continue his name to all generations. Let people talk about the joys of city life and other careers and occupa- tions; we know how to prize our own calling and appreciate its blessings." It happened once that, as Hyrcanus visited his fields, he observed that one of his sons, Elieser, seemed moody and dejected. When he was asked the reason of his discontent, he responded by a flood of tears. "What ails the boy.'" said the father to himself " He does not look ill. Perhaps it is his pride, for he is the proudest of the lot. Does he think that his present employment is too menial .'' That fault, if it be a fault, is easily remedied. I shall have him undertake a lighter task and the smiles will come back to his countenace." In vain. The son's sadness steadily in- creased, and baffled the father's solicitude. The youth would often rest from his toil and turn his gaze toward the east. Sighs escaped him, and all the symptoms of discontent. He would perform each day's task, but there was no heart in the work, and when the allotted THE INHERITANCE. 83 labor was done, he courted solitude as if it had a balm for his anxious thoughts. He loved to follow the bird in its flight until it was lost to view in cloudless space. He would pluck to pieces many a flower, as though to gain the secret of their fragrance. In the peace of twilight he would leave his home, mount the neighboring hill, and commune with the stars as if they could answer his ques- tionings or soothe his sorrow. Now Hyrcanus had continued to observe his son's disquietude, and sought to discover the secret, but without success. One evening, meeting Elieser in tears, he said: "Come, my son. Tell me thy grief. What disturbs thee .' Why is thy brow so sad, and why has thy heart, once so merry, lost its cheer .■' Come, tell me. Be frank, and conceal nothing." " Oh, father, father ! " the youth exclaimed. " I will be frank with thee and conceal noth- ing. I hate the farm and the fields ! I yearn for something higher and nobler. I cannot endure much longer this kind of life. It is worse than a stifling prison ! " " Well, my son, " replied the father, sadly. 84 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. "thou hast been frank, and I confess thy words have disappointed me not a little. My thoughts are naturally wrapped up in my farm, and I have always longed to have my sons fol- low in my path and succeed as I have done. But I would not be harsh or unkind to thee. I will change thy occupation, if it be thy de- sire. What shall it be, then .'' A saddler, a weaver, a carpenter, a blacksmith .'' " "A saddler, a weaver, a carpenter, and the rest ! " rejoined the youth with flashing eyes. " Why speak of them .'' It is only one am- bition that possesses me. I would be a scholar, father; I would study the holy Law. I would devote my entire life to learning." " So that is the secret which I have vainly sought to discover } " the father answered. "Thou wouldst be an idle scholar! At thy age, too ! Be satisfied with th6 farm, Elieser. Curb thy straying fancy and settle down to the farmer's life. Let thy sons be scholars, but choose for thyself a more sensible fate." A few days passed. The cloud of sorrow pressed heavier and heavier on Elieser. He grew more and more sullen. He refused his THE INHERITANCE. 85 accustomed food. Sleep was denied him. But ever stronger became the yearning to study the divine Law. " If I could only learn of the Maker of this boundless universe ! " he exclaimed to himself as he took his solitary walk. " The distant star mocks me. The flower at my feet taunts me with my ignorance. The birds that troop past me have more knowledge than I. Must I endure this self-reproach forever 1 " "Why weepest thou .-'" a Voice was heard close beside him. "What is thy sorrow.? Hast thou an unattained desire .'' Dost thou wish to study the Law ? " " Yes, yes ! with my whole heart and soul ! Oh, Master, Master, satisfy me ! Art thou not near to all who call upon Thee in truth, and dost Thou not give to the young birds that for which they cry ? " " If thou truly lovest knowledge," spoke the Voice, in tones that thrilled the young man's soul, "and wouldst devote thy whole life to learning, submitting to the yoke which shall be transformed into a fadeless crown, fly to Jerusalem. There is the school of Rabbi 86 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Johanan ben Sakkai. Enter its doors — the portals stand open— and be wise." Elieser hesitated no longer. The oppor- tunity had come. In the impulsiveness of youth, without bidding his father and brothers farewell, he fled to Jerusalem, the city of his hopes and visions, and, entering Ben Sakkai's far-famed school, stood like a statue for a mo- ment, and then wept aloud. "Good youth," said the rabbi, in a kindly tone, " why hast thou given way to thy emo- tions } At thy age it is not usual to give way to tears." " Oh, rabbi," Elieser answered, " I am weeping because of my ignorance, and I have such a burning desire to study that I could not but come to Jerusalem." " But thou hast surely learnt something, hast thou not .■' " the rabbi inquired. "Nothing, nothing!" cried the youth des- pairingly. " Oh, teach me, master ! Without knowledge I cannot live." Ben Sakkai strove to reassure the trembling youth. Without asking of his home and kin- dred, he received Elieser as his own son, and THE INHERITANCE. 87 bade him grieve no more. " Thou shalt be my pupil. I recognize thy honest heart. I have full confidence in thy ability. Thou shalt gain knowledge if thou wilt but persevere, and become a light to thy people." The rabbi's judgment was soon confirmed. The youth made astounding progress that aroused the admiration of his comrades and teachers. Ben Sakkai was amazed at the sagacity, the reasoning skill, the intellectual grasp of his pupil, whose learning grew until he was acknowledged to be the pride of the academy and its star of greatest promise. And then Elieser told Ben Sakkai his name and lineage. What of Hyrcanus during these years .' Did he grieve for his missing son.' Did he seek to discover the secret of his absence .' Did he regard him as hopeless and abandon all search .' His father heart might have put him on the right track had not EHeser's broth- ers resorted to every means to poison their parent's mind. They could not sufficiently condemn their brother's deed and ingratitude. 88 STORIES FROM TIfE RABBIS. They dwelt upon the disgrace to the family which he had occasioned, and to prevent any reconciliation, should he return, they urged their father, again and again, to disinherit him. As he despised the farm and its occupations, he should have no share in the estate. Resolved, at last, to disinherit Elieser, the father set out for Jerusalem, to complete the act in due legal form. He soon reached the Holy City, encircled by a chaplet of hills, and moved along its crowded streets with an air of wonder. All nations seemed to be there. Greece, Rome, and the isles of the sea sent their representatives. How different from his fields and hills were the busy thoroughfares ! How insignificant appeared his houses and lands, compared to the stately edifices that lined the well-paved roads, the lofty towers that shone in the sunlight, the colossal gate- ways, the palatial dwellings ! How tame and unsatisfying was country life after all ! "Come, Hyrcanus ! " exclaimed one of his friends, " Let us visit Ben Sakkai to-day. He is our most famous sage, and all throng to hear him." THE INHERITANCE. 89 It was a gala-day in Ben Sakkai's house. He had invited to dinner a large number of the most prominent people in Jerusalem, and Hyr- canus, belonging to a family of wealth and in- fluence, was placed next to Elieser. But the father did not recognize his son; he never thought that Elieser associated in such high circles, and then the years had changed the youth completely. Study, too, had transformed the country lad, and added a refining and ma- turing influence of its own. The guests feasted merrily, and had almost ended their repast, when Ben Sakkai, turning to Elieser, exclaimed, " My son, it is time for thee to reveal thy wisdom. Rise, and speak' of the holy Law." "Nay, master," Elieser replied, blushing slightly; "the cisterns can only pour out the water which they have received. What can I say that is not already known to thee .? " "My son," Ben Sakkai rejoined, "the foun- tain gushes forth an ever-living stream. Rise and speak of the Law." But Elieser was still reluctant to address the assemblage, when Ben Sakkai, fancying that go STOHIES FROM THE RABBIS. his presence embarrassed his pupil, left the hall. Then Elieser began a dissertation on the Law and holy things, and the depth and beauty of creation, of life and its wonders, of death and its mysteries, of the world in its grandeur, and the human soul. He spoke, and his eyes shone with a divine radiance, while his voice grew wondrously eloquent. The people lis- tened, awe-inspired. Unable to restrain him- self, Ben Sakkai rushed into the assemblage, and full of admiration kissed him on the fore- head, exclaiming, " Oh, blessed son of Hyr- canus ! Happy Israel to have such a teacher ! " The assemblage broke into loud applause — but scarcely had its echo died away when Hyr- canus exclaimed in an agitated voice, "Of whom dost thou speak } Tell me ! Relieve my suspense ! " " Of whom I speak.?" Ben Sakkai, replied. " Why, I speak of thy son. I speak of Elieser, who is standing at thy side." " My son ! my son!" and Hyrcanus turned to Elieser. " Thou art indeed my missing son." And again and again he clasped the THE INHERITANCE. 9 1 young man to his breast, while the people wondered. " Happy, thrice happy am I to possess such a son ! I came to Jerusalem with one resolve— I shall be frank to avow it — to disinherit thee. But now I shall disinherit thy brethren who have traduced thee. Thou shalt be sole heir of all my wealth — that shall be thy recompense, and the proof of my affection." "Nay, father," Elieser answered, while his voice grew gentler as he spoke; " Nay, father, let each brother have his portion. I bear them no ill-will. If I desired fields, I could pray to God for them, for He is Lord of the earth. If I desired gold I could entreat God for it. Is He not the Lord of all the wealth that is .'' But I hunger only for the holy Law: this satisfies me." ELIJAH IN THE LEGENDS. ' I ""HE form of Elijah the prophet rises out of ■*- the Jewish past with all the ruggedness and grandeur of Mount Carmel, with which his name and character are indissolubly associated. Few heroes of the Bible appeal so irresistibly to the Jewish popular imagination, and are stamped with such peculiar genius. The mys- tery which surrounds his birth, education, and family, the suddenness with which Scripture introduces him, the intense enthusiasm that marked the beginning of his missionary work, the dangers to which he was exposed, the mi- raculous events in which he figures, his un- daunted courage and fiery zeal, would be suf- ficient to crown him with a certain halo of romance. But when, as a fit complement to his earthly career, one considers the circum- ELIJAH IN 7^ HE LEGENDS. 93 stances connected with his disappearance from earth, it is natural that he should be regarded as one of Scripture's most picturesque person- ages — ^just the character to be seized upon in later centuries by legend and parable, and to survive for ages in national folk-lore. One caution is to be exercised, however, in our judgment of the post-Biblical legends in which Elijah assumes so prominent a role. As is true of rabbinical legends respecting other Biblical worthies and the rabbis of the Talmud themselves, so in the case of Elijah, it is not to be asserted that the people and their teachers believed in every hyperbolic allusion to the prophet. We distort rather than interpret the Talmud, if we fail to make due allowance for the fountain-play of Oriental metaphor. In its stories and parables, its ever -winding stream oi hagadah, we see reproduced the arabesque in art— "a magic complexity of ornament," where "the restlessly roving fancy and the speculative understanding find their pride and satisfaction," as Ltibke states it. That genius for rationalism and keen critical inquiry which, despite rabbinical reverence for tradition, is at 94 STOeiES FROM THE RABBIS. the basis of the Talmud,* makes me reluctant to maintain that the historical character of the rabbinical legends about Elijah was ever an article of faith. They are so varied, and pre- sent the prophet in such quick and sudden transformation scenes, that one is forced to the conclusion that here we have to deal with texts, not flesh and blood. It is the Elijah of hom- ilies and exegesis, weird and shadowy, em- bodying the mystic, philosophic ideas of the schools — a theological finger-post, so to speak — which meets one in the luxuriant gardens of rabbinical fancy. So deeply did these legends impress the susceptible popular mind, being largely associated with themes of theosophic and supernatural grandeur, personal and na- tional resurrection, and the realms of the world to come, that they acquired a certain sanctity and permanence of their own which defied analysis and criticism. They are undoubtedly on a higher grade than the Solomonic legends. *And is, in fact, a trait of the Jew in every century, to whom the pithy lines in " Faust" are applicable: " Zwei Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust, Die eine will sich von der andern trennen." £:UJAH IN THE LEGENDS. 95 It is more than burlesque and pantomime. Here is no stage-fire; here no gaudy transfor- mation scenes, with the resources of the jug- gler's art and witchery. We are brought face to face with solemn mysteries of life and death and immortality — the problems that ever exer- cise so profound an influence and fascination. The rabbis trace a resemblance between Moses and Elijah. The one ascended Mount Sinai, the other Mount 'Carmel. Both were prophets. Both condemned idolatry. There was the same mystery about their passing away ; both disappeared, rather than died. Still another similarity was noticed : no one knows their sepulchre. The act of Elijah in offering sacrifices on Mount Carmel against Moses' express command to offer only in Jeru- salem, is explained as justifiable on the ground of its being a work of necessity. The rabbis discern in Phinehas who slew Zimri a type of Elijah; in both cases the same zeal and cour- age can be observed. Elijah's twofold invoca- tion (i Kings xviii. 37), " Hear me ! Hear me ! " was to show that he employed no sor- cery. Rabbinical skepticism, which denied 96 STORIES PROM THE RABBIS. the historical character of Job and saw in the book that bears his name only "a parable," doubted, as well, the ascension of Moses and Elijah. All opinions are recorded in the Tal- mud : Jewish thought was never stagnant nor one-sided. In the rabbinical legends, Elijah is a man of peace — a gentle messenger, who preaches a religion of love and humanity. With all the tenderness of a modern saint, he comforts in affliction, he warns of danger, he exhorts to repentance. But none the less emphatically does he condemn sin and show how sin may be atoned. He is quick to give counsel; he promotes peace between man and wife; he acts as referee in legal cases; he pronounces judg- ment; doubtful matters await his decision, and he reveals secrets. As a further prerogative, he leads into Paradise. To protect the af- flicted, too, is his special duty. Nor does he shirk any disguise or labor to achieve his ob- ject, but will appear now as a simple man, and now in the attire of a Roman officer; here as a wandering Arab, and here mounted on a horse. At some of the academies he would attend as ELIJAH IN THE LEGENDS. gj an ordinary student and modestly join in the discussions. He takes Rabbi Joshua ben Levi in hand — a famous character of his day — and shows him his future abode in Paradise. Not satisfied with such a mark of favor, after that rabbi's death he introduces him to his col- leagues in the better world. There is little doubt that Elijah's prominence is largely due to the character assigned him by tradition as forerunner of the Messiah. His reappearance on earth, foretold by Malachi, is associated with the Messianic era. The Tar- gum Jonathan mentions this privilege of Eli- jah's, " the great priest who is to be sent at the end of the captivity " (Targ. Jon. to Ex. xl. lo). The Mishna asserts the same (in Eduyoth viii); and so popular became the belief that in the Gospel narrative (Markvii., viii., and elsewhere), we find Jesus mistaken for Elijah as the fore- runner of the Messiah. A good deal of activity is marked out for Elijah. On his reappearance upon earth, his first work will be to summon Israel, and col- lect the scattered tribes, with Messiah, son of Joseph, at their head, leading them to Pales- 9 8 STOSIES FROM THE RABBIS. tine, to fight against ^milus, the pseudo-Mes- siah. Then he will arouse the dead, bring Messiah, the son of David, and restore to the Temple of Jerusalem the Shekinah and the Ark, which had been committed to his (Elijah's) care by Jeremiah at its destruction. It can readily be seen to what extravagant views these legends may give rise in the literature of eschatology. Among the Jews Elijah is not canonized: there are no saints in the Jewish calendar. In the Latin and Greek churches he received such honors and became the founder of the Carmelites. In Russian popu- lar proverbs he directs the storms, the sound of the thunder being caused by the rumble of his fiery chariot and the lightning by its blaze. Among the Kabbalists Elijah's name is re- peated with special eniphasis on the exit of the Sabbath ; at that time he is supposed to be seated under the tree of life and unerringly records in writing the merits of those who keep the Sabbath holy. Curious is the sur- vival of the custom, at the Passover repast, of having an extra goblet of wine for Elijah. I am tempted to explain this as a proof and ELIJAH IN THE LEGENDS. 99 illustration of Hebrew hospitality. All Israel- ites, masters and servants, men, women and children, are alike commanded to be present at the Paschal meal : on that evening all are freemen ; the barriers of rank, class and cir- cumstance are thrown aside. What more nat- ural than that an extra cup of wine should be provided for the traveler or stranger guest who may by chance arrive on the festival eve .' Such a custom is quite common among rabbis to-day, who are glad to invite a poor brother to their Sabbath meal in obedience to the Mo- saic law, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" Once the prophet met a man who mocked at holy things. "My son," said the sage quietly, " how wilt thou justify thyself before thy Father in heaven, when He summons thee to swift and impartial judgment .?" " Oh, I know how to answer," the skeptic rejoined, unabashed. " Why, I shall tell God that He ought to have given me knowledge and understanding; but as He did not, He is to blame, not I." " What is thy business .''" Elijah then asked, deeply moved. " I am a fisherman," was the curt re- lOO STOlilES FROM THE RABBIS. ply. " Thou art a fisherman," said Elijah, "and hast understanding enough to arrange nets, to hurl them into the water, to watch for fish at the proper time ! Who gave thee understand- ing for this?" "Understanding for all that sort of thing!" exclaimed the man coolly, " why, that is nothing. Every common fisher- man has it." "Nothing!" Elijah answered with emphasis. " It is indeed something. Dost thou think much understanding is neces- sary to carry out the law.' 'The law,' says Moses, 'is near to thee; it is in thy mouth, and in thy heart, and thou canst do it.' " Touched to the quick by Elijah's reproof, and con- vinced, as well, that the prophet had both logic and reason on his side, the fisherman wept tears of repentance and abandoned his skepticism. Once in the busy market-place Elijah ap- peared to Rabbi Beroka. Curious to pry into the secrets of life eternal, the rabbi asked the prophet: " Who among all this crowd will .en- joy future salvation } " " That man yonder in black sandals, like a heathen, and without fringes on his garments." The rabbi was not ELIJAH IN THE LEGENDS. lOI a little astounded that one who violated the statutes of the law should have a portion in the world to come, and, approaching the man with- out delay, asked him what was his business. " I am a jailer," said he, " and take special care to maintain morality in the prison." " But why do you neglect the fringes .' " " That is very easily explained," he answered. " On ac- count of this very neglect I am regarded as a heathen, and become thus acquainted with the mischievous purposes of enemies of the Jews, and inform the Jewish leaders of any threaten- ing evil." But the rabbi's surprise for the day had not ended. " See those two jesters there," said Elijah, pointing unobserved to two figures in the crowd. " They, too, shall be saved." Rabbi Beroka advanced quickly in their direc- tion, and conversed with them for a few mo- ments. He found that they were men of a cheer- ful, hearty spirit, who strove to comfort the mourner and the sufferer, and to banish their pain, while they had often restored harmony among people, and instilled gentle peace. " Blessed are the peacemakers," sO reads the golden sentence in the Sermon on the Mount, I02 STOHIES FROM THE RABBIS. "for they shall be called the sons of God." "Love peace, and pursue peace," said Hillel; ■'love mankind, and bring them near to the Law." WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. I ^HE historical data respecting Solomon -■- are rather scanty, compared with the role he occupies as a national hero. Eleven chapters in I Kings (i.-xi.), and nine in 2 Chron- icles (i.-ix.) tell the story of his life; and these are possibly extracts from works no longer ex- tant. To compensate, however, for the meagre- ness of historical details, legend has made him one of its favorites, and crowned him with at- tributes and achievements which keep his memory green, although nearly three thou- sand years have elapsed since he ruled over Israel. It is not surprising that Solomon has receiv- ed such posthumous honors. His name — a prince of peace; his lineage — the son of David's old age; the auspicious circumstances under which he ascended the throne; his completion of the temple; his wisdom and magnificence; the glory and triumph of his reign; the rapid JP3 I04 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. growth and extent of his sway; his foreign al- liances and expeditions to the far East — these naturally wove about him a magic spell, and gained him lasting fame. The vices that dark- ened his happiness in his declining years, the consequences of his disobedience to God, which are told in Scripture's blunt and unflattering way — these are shadows on the picture, which have only added to Solomon's hold on the pop- ular mind, and left a distinct impress on Jewish national folk-lore. His later sins create, in fact, a certain sympathy for him, so singularly favored, and yet so deplorably weak. Who feels not compassion at Merlin's fall .'' Does not Wolsey's departed greatness arouse our pity 1 The appalling inconsistency between the wise sayings in Solomon's proverbs, and his unrestrained extravagance at last; his sub- lime dedication prayer to the one God, and his erection, in after days, of seats of worship for strange gods — such contrasts and contradic- tions show Solomon's humanity at least. It is the humanity in " Faust'' which made Goethe's creation a world-drama. Possibly the same cir- cumstance has contributed largely to Solomon's WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. I05 popularity. We see a parallel to this in the traditional view, among the Arabs, of Haroun al Raschid. His reign is held to have been a golden era, and his fame and deeds are cele- brated in tuneful verse. Yet this monarch led far from a model life, and the poets have con- siderably exaggerated the glories of his sway. Solomon has been aptly regarded as the rep- resentative of Oriental wisdom. The Bible tells us of his knowledge. of nature and its produc- tions, of his intimate acquaintance with the animal world, his "three thousand proverbs and one thousand and five songs " (l Kings v. 12). Legend, first in the Midrash, and then in still more extravagant and grotesque form in Arabic and Persian literature, has reared an Aladdin's palace of fancy on the simple Biblical foundation. The ruler of Israel appears almost unrecognizable amid the play of hyperbole. His legendary history becomes a series of mag- ical metamorphoses; we imagine ourselves in a land of marvels; it is, in fact, the atmosphere of the A rabian Nights : " Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. '■ 1 06 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. He flits in and out with the suddenness and agility of friend Harlequin in the olden pan- tomime. Jewish and Arabic sources are full of his conversations with animals; his inter- course with spirits; his power over the world of demons; his weird transformations in pur- suit of wisdom — in the style of the mediaeval Arab caliph — his strange adventures on sea and land. He is accompanied by a retinue of genii, who do his bidding at wondrous speed. The recurrence of types in legend as well as nature is curiously exemplified in the Talmud, making Solomon, in one of its most character- istic tales respecting that worthy, a prototype of Faust, whose Mephistopheles is Ashmodai, king of the demons; while, to render the re- semblance still more striking, a Margaret is not absent from the story in the person of the lovely Naama, daughter of the king of Am- mon. Naama's future, however, is happier then Gretchen's. Apocryphal literature fairly reveled over Solomon; what we possess is but a fragment of what has been written in his glorification. There seems to have been no limit to the imagination of writers in those WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. 107 days. Side by side with accounts of his power and grandeur, are tales of his misery and degradation. He is a beggar as well as a monarch in folk-lore. In the heat of his am- bition he loses his precious ring, and wanders and suffers until he regains his ring and throne. In the height of his fame, he receives warning of impending danger ; and when intoxicated with pride is made to realize the truth of the lessons embodied in the Proverbs and Ecclesi- astes ascribed to him. To select a few of the Solomonic legends, and to present them briefly, is no easy task: so many are equally striking that it is difficult to discriminate. Perhaps the most curious are those associated with the Queen of Sheba. The Bible tells of her visit to Solomon, at- tracted by the stories of his wisdom, and how she proposed riddles which he so readily solved. Riddles were special favorites among the an- cients, and some current conundrums date from gray antiquity. If the riddle was the form chosen by the oracle in Greece, one need not wonder that the Queen of Sheba adopted a similar device to divine Solomon's wisdom. X08 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. The 'post-Biblical legends tell us the exact character of these riddles and their solution. When the Queen placed two wreaths before the monarch, and asked him to tell which was real, and which artificial, he opened a window, and a bee, alighting upon the natural wreath, told him what he wished to know. She brought into his presence a number of male and female servants dressed alike, and wished him to-tell who were men, and who were women. He ordered his eunuchs to give them nuts and roasted corn, and the men put them unabashed in their garments, while the women, more modest, received them in their handkerchiefs, thus revealing their sex to Solomon. " What is that," asked the Queen, " which comes like dust from the earth, whose food is dust, which is poured out like water, and which illuminates the house.' " " Naphtha," came the ready an- swer. " What cries in a heavy wind storm, and bends its head low, suffocates the' criminal and clothes the wealthy, is destruction to the fish and pleasure to the bird .? " " Flax," was the reply. So astonished was the Queen at his prompt and accurate answers that she ex- WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. lOg claimed, " I_ did not believe what I heard of thee, until I came and saw with mine own eyes." Once when Solomon desired to build the temple, he sent to Pharoah with a request for artisans. The king of Egypt summoned his astrologers, who told him which of his artisans would die during that year, and these he sent to Solomon. But the latter's wisdom enabled him to detect the plot, and providing each with a shroud, he returned them to Pharoah, with the message : " Hast thou no shrouds wherein to bury thy dead 1 Here I have provided thy men with them." When Solomon married the daughter of Pharoah, the rabbis say, she not only made him acquainted with a thousand dif- ferent kinds of musical instruments, but taught him, as well, the chants to idols, which caused him to forget the worship of the One God. Solomon is represented as riding on the wind, seated upon a great mantle sixty miles square. One day he was boasting of his power and his wisdom, when the wind withdrew from him, and forty thousand men fell from his mantle. " Return," he cried in his alarm to the wind, "and be calm ! " " Return to thy God," the 1 lO STORIES FMOM THE RABBIS. wind replied, " and boast not of thyself. Then I will return." Thus Solomon was taught wis- dom by the words of the wind. In Arab legend, Solomon's sagacity was il- lustrated when he was a stripling of thirteen. Two men came before David as chief of the tribunal, and puzzled him greatly in reconcil- ing their differences, until he asked his son Solomon to decide. The plaintiff had bought property of the defendant, and while digging out a cellar had found a treasure. He de- manded that the defendant should take the treasure back, for he bought the property with- out it; while the defendant asserted that it did not belong to him, as he had sold to the plain- tiff the property, and all its contents. Solomon suggested that the best way to settle the dis- pute would be for the plaintiffs son to marry the defendant's daughter, and take the treasure as their own. On an other occasion, when the point at issue was the damage done by sheep, David decided that the owner of the field should receive the sheep as compensation. But Solomon gave it as his opinion that the plaintiff should keep the sheep, receiving their WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. I I I milk, lambs and wool, until the damage inflict- ed had been made good. The other judges were not satisfied with Solomon's decisions, and resolved to subject him to a public exam- ination to test his fitness to act as David's successor. He baffled, however, their most searching inquiries, and passed the ordeal in triumph. Then he turned upon his examiners, gave them questions which they could not answer, and displayed such wondrous wisdom and learning that his adversaries were baffled, and he was declared by acclamation to be his father's successor. Solomon was passionately fond of chess, which he is said to have invented. He was playing once with his favorite general, Benaiah, and would have checkmated him as usual, when just at the critical moment there was a noise in the street. The king ran to the window to dis- cover the cause of the disturbance, and during his absence Benaiah took his knight from the board, and so won the game. Solomon, sur- prised at the result, as it was the first game that he had lost, soon concluded that Benaiah had removed a knight, but said nothing about I I 2 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. it, as he was confident that his general would make a voluntary confession. A day or two afterward he noticed two men acting suspi- ciously in the street, as if intent on robbery. He quickly assumed a disguise, and hastened out of doors until he met the pair. He assured them that he too was a thief by profession, and promised to admit them to the royal palace, to which he had keys. At nightfall he opened the portals, and led them from room to room until they reached the treasure -chamber. While they were filling their bags with jewels and diamonds, he quietly closed the door, and locked it from without, entrapping them com- pletely. Then he hastened to his own apart- ment, donned his royal apparel, and summoned his council to conference, Benaiah among the number. When they had assembled, the king asked: "What shall be done to the man who robs his neighbor, and not alone his neighbor but the king himself.'" At the words, whose force was intensified by Solomon's glances, which seemed to rest upon him, Benaiah felt certain that the king was referring to his theft at chess. " If I am silent," he said to himself, WHEN SOLOMON WAS KING. I I 3 " until the council decides, I am lost. Confession is the best way to retain the king's favor.'' Ac- cordingly he rose, humbly confessed his fault, and begged for the royal mercy. " Ah, my dear general," Solomon replied, with a smile, " I did not assemble the council for thy sake. I have already forgotten, and .pardoned thy robbery. There is something else to engage our attention to-day." And then he told them of his adventure with the thieves, who were promptly executed. But Solomon did not so soon forget the contrite confession of his brave general, which he had so cleverly elicited. RABBINICAL HUMOR. JUST as in the Talmud the influence of a double current is visible — the one called halakhaJi, the abstract law principle; the other hagadah, the legend or fanciful tale: so, too, in the lives of the older rabbis a double influ- ence was clearly at work — the one purely in- tellectual, impelling men to study the law with ceaseless diligence; the other more emotional, springing from a certain moral cheerfulness, which made them social beings, and preserved their sense of humor. Their playfulness, in- deed, was often a mask assumed to conceal their real sentiments, and many an innocent parable must be read between the lines, and stripped of its'hyperbole if its true meaning is to be gained. As a general rule, however, rab- binical humor is humor unalloyed, designed to pass away the time, to point a moral, to arouse the attention, to entertain the children, and RABBINICAL HUMOR. I I 5 divert the rabbis themselves, and drive home at least one fruitful thought. A story related of Solomon throws light on the fondness of the rabbis to utter a joke at a wife's expense. Such an act of ungallantry is, happily, fully atoned by many a parable and saying which do ample justice to the virtues of womanhood. It seems that one day Solomon was seated by his palace window, taking a lit- tle relaxation from the cares of state, when he noticed two birds on a tree in the garden oppo- posite. The king, as the Bible records, was such a clever philologist as to know even the language of birds, and so he warily listened when the bird addressed its loving mate: " Do you see King Solomon over there, my love .■' " " Yes, indeed," was the gentle answer. " Well," said the first speaker, "do you know what I could do, if I wished.'" "No," she re- joined, full of curiosity, " what could you do } " " Why," he rejoined, with a pompous air, puff- ing out his wings at full sail, " with one stroke of my wings I could crush every bone in Sol- omon's body, and with another stroke overturn his palace from turret to foundation-stone." I l6 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. With proud mien did the mate regard her val- orous husband, and felt keenly her own femi- nine insignificance. But Solomon was not particularly pleased. He summoned the boast- ful bird to his presence, and angrily asked what was the meaning of the absurd bragga- docio he had heard. Then the bird, winking at the king in shameless style, begged his maj- esty's pardon. " Of course," said he, "I was merely joking; I was only fooling my wife — a husband's privilege, you know. She believes everything I tell her." And then the little bird quickly hopped away to his admiring mate, who is a type of the credulous wife, wor- shiping her husband as a giant and a hero, when he possesses not the slightest claims to greatness. It is only a few years since a Southern writer made some interesting contributions to negro folk-lore, and the figures of Brudder Fox and Brer Wolf have become familiar to the reading public. The pranks which the fox played upon the wolf are by no means so recent as a casual reader might fancy. They can be traced back many centuries, and found exemplified in the RABBINICAL HUMOR. I I 7 folk-lore of various races. It is said, for in- stance, that one well-known rabbi,. Meir, knew three hundred fables about foxes. Here is a fox and wolf story strikingly similar to one of Mr. Harris's tales, and which illustrates, besides, the rabbinical fondness for making even ani- mals recite Biblical verses: A fox once per- suaded a wolf to enter a Jewish house, to help prepare the Sabbath meal. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than the entire family set upon him, and he was glad to escape from the blows which were rained upon his head. The wolf was naturally vexed at such treat- ment; but the fox sought to soothe his ruffled spirit by remarking that probably the wolfs father on another occasion had committed theft in that very dwelling. " What ! " the wolf replied, repeating a verse from Ezekiel, " the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and shall the children's teeth be set on edge .' " The fox endeavored to reinstate himself in the good opinion of the wolf, and invited the latter to accompany him to a new and more attract- ive dining-place. He took him to a well, to which two buckets' were attached. The fox I 1 8 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. quickly jumped into the bucket which chanced to be at the top, thereby descending to the well's bottona and raising the other to the sur- face. When the wolf anxiously inquired why he went down, the fox replied that there was cheese at the bottom, and pointed to the re- flection of the moon on the water in proof of his statement. The wolf, all ready for the feast, asked how to descend, and was told to jump into the bucket. Naturally, the other bucket with the fox rose to the top, while the wolf below became conscious of the trick and implored to be raised again. " Ah," said the fox, using a verse from the Proverbs, " 'The righteous is delivered out of trouble, and the wicked cometh in his stead.' " Then he added, as a further moral for the wolf to reflect upon, the sentence from Leviticus. " ' Just balances and just weights.' " That the rabbis could be guilty of puns, nu- merous examples show; but, unfortunately, it is almost impossible to translate their play upon words or give in English an insight into the deft way in which they exercise their hu- mor upon Biblical verses. A fair illustration RABBINICAL HUMOR. I I g of such a Biblical pun is the following: On a road through a dense forest stood a solitary inn, whose landlord bore a very unsavory rep- utation. He was wont to ask each guest his next stopping-place, or the direction of his journey, and at once assert that he intended to take a trip to the same spot, or travel in the same neighborhood, and would be glad to have a companion. Long before' dawn he would arouse the traveler, start on the trip, and after they had entered the dark forest, rob him without mercy, or take his life if he of- fered resistance. Now, one evening a rabbi came to lodge overnight, and at supper, as usual, the landlord asked his customary question. The rabbi stated where he- intended to go, and expressed his pleasure at having the landlord as escort. He then retired to rest. At about midnight he was awakened by a violent knock- ing on the door, and the voice of the landlord calling him to get ready for the journey. " There is time enough," said he. " It is still dark," and he went to sleep again. In an hour or so the landlord knocked once more; but this time the rabbi pleaded his inability to I 20 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. start until his friend had arrived. " What ! " exclaimed the man, not particularly overjoyed, " you expect a friend at this hour ! Pray, what is his name ? " " My friend's name," the rabbi replied, "is Was-good." The man quickly ran out into the road, calling loudly, " Was-good ! Was - good ! " but no Mr. Was - good made his appearance. " I don't see your friend," he said, visibly annoyed, as he returned to the inn, and again urged the rabbi to depart. " He must come very soon ; he cannot de- lay much longer," the rabbi answered, en- joying the man's impatience; and after a while he exclaimed in exultant tones, "Why, there he is ! " "I don't see him," cried the landlord, mystified. "Look!" the rabbi said, pointing toward the eastern sky, lit up by the first straggling rays of dawn. " There is my friend, the light of day, the best friend of man and beast. Does not the Bible say, ' And God saw the light that \\. was-good?'" In a few moments day had broken in earnest, and the rabbi went on his way rejoicing, while the dis- comfited landlord pleaded an excuse for not accompanying him. RABBINICAL HUMOR. 121 Much quiet wit is evinced by the rabbis in their replies to skeptics of their day, many of whose objections curiously resemble those raised in our later age. A rabbi was instruct- ing his disciples, when an undevout philosopher entered, and dared him to answer this ques- tion : " Who created the world ? " " God," the rabbi replied. " Prove it to me," rejoined the philosopher, "prove it ! " " Come to-mor- row, friend," was the answer, "and then I shall adduce the proof" The morrow came, and with it the philosopher. " I'll answer your question," said the rabbi, " if you will first an- swer mine. Tell me who made the coat you wear } " " Why, the weaver, of course," was the prompt reply. " The weaver ? " the rabbi repeated. " How do you know that ? Prove it to me." " Why, it stands to reason that the weaver made my coat." " Well," the rabbi re- joined with emphasis, "just as a coat implies a weaver, and a door a carpenter, so the creation implies the Creator, blessed be He ! " Sometimes the questioner did not receive so kindly a reception. A Persian told the learned Rab that he desired to study Hebrew. " Very I 22 STOHIES FROM THE RABBIS. well," said the master. " Let us begin at once. This letter is called Aleph." " Aleph .? " re- joined the man, incredulous. " How do you prove that it is Aleph 1 " "This is the second letter, Beth," continued the rabbi. "Beth.?" repeated the Persian in the same skeptical tone. " Prove to me that it is Beth." Then Rab became so exasperated that he would not continue the lesson, when the Persian went to the contemporary of Rab, the celebrated Sam- uel, and applied to him for instruction. He displayed his doubting spirit as before, until Samuel caught him by the ear, and gave it a sharp twinge. "My ear! My ear ! " shouted the man in his pain. " Your ear ? " repeated Samuel. "Prove to me that it is your ear." "What a strange question!" said the man. " Why, everybody calls it so." " Very true, my friend," was the sage's answer, " and in the same way all call those letters Aleph and Beth. Does this satisfy you .' " It is consoling to learn that the Persian became an apt scholar at last, thanks to Samuel's salutary method. Another rabbi gave a more logical answer to a doubter who once thus interrogated him. RABBINICAL HUMOR. I 23 " Ye fools who believe in a resurrection ! See ye not that the living die ? How, then, can ye believe that the dead shall live?'' "Foolish man ! " the rabbi answered. " Thou believest in a creation ? Well, then, if what never be- fore existed exists, why may not that which once existed exist again ? " An unbeliever said to Rabbi Gamliel: " When the Bible speaks of the greatness of God, it says that He can tell the number of the stars. What great- ness is that .'' I know their number as well." " Tell me how many teeth thou hast .-' " said the rabbi in reply. The man put his hand into his mouth to count them. " Thou knowest not what thou hast in thy mouth," the rabbi exclaimed, " and thou pretendest to know the number of the stars .'' " Woman, a topic for satire in the sayings and proverbs of every nation, appears of course in the table-talk of the rabbis. Why was Eve formed from Adam's side, and not from an- other portion of his bpdy } If the head had been selected, she would have been too proud; if the eye, too wanton; if the mouth, too loqua- cious; if the heart, too passionate; if the hands, I 24 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. too bustling; if the feet, too much of a gada- bout. " A modest side was chosen, that she should be modest," and yet, the rabbis add, woman has a share of all the faults mentioned. When a prince reproached a rabbi for worship- ing a God who practiced theft, seeing that a rib was stolen from Adam, the prince was asked whether he considered it theft if he found a golden cup substituted for a silver one. "But it was done secretly,"the prince asserted. " To save Adam from seeing the unpleasant- ness of the process," was the answer. " You would lose your appetite if you saw raw meat in all the stages of being cooked." Carlyle denies to the Jews any sense of humor: " Hardly any Jew creature, not even a blackguard Heine to any real length," so reads his invective. How little he knew of Semitic humor, which the Hebrews shared in common with their Arab kinsmen ! Of humor in its Satanic sense they had nothing; of humor in its genial form, the Talmud is full. It was a standing rule of the rabbis to cultivate cheer- fulness. They recommended, indeed, that teachers shall be especially good-natured in RABBINICAL HUMOR. I25 their intercourse with disciples, and not abrupt- ly begin the hour of instruction without having first a little pleasantry. It is distinctly stated of Rabba, one of the famous masters, that he used to preface his lessons by humorous anec- dotes which put his pupils in a happy frame of mind. Sometimes an anecdote would be em- ployed to startle an audience, and arouse them from drowsiness. A rabbi, finding his hearers rather sleepy, gravely informed them that there was once a mother in Israel, who had 600,000 children at one birth. Of course, the people were now wide awake, and when they inquired as to her name, he answered : " Jochebed." Certainly the mother of Moses would regard her son as equal to 600,000 of his brethen. THE MUNCHAUSEN OF THE TALMUD. TOURING the early part of the third century -*— ^ of the common era, there Hved a rabbi who acquired a national reputation, both in Palestine and Babylonia, as the author of very imaginative stories. These tales survive and stamp him as a Munchausen, centuries before the appearance of that famous baron. But Rabba bar bar Ghana — such was the rabbi's name — was more than a mere raconteur : he was a scholar and sage besides. Hence there is an added significance in his narratives. They have, in truth, all the delightful flavor of an old salt — they tell of the sea-serpent ages before its regular appearance in the columns of the enterprising daily press. Mr. Rider Haggard's incidents are not to be despised; but they pale into insignificance compared with the marvels on land and sea described by the doughty rab- 126 MUNCHAUSEN OF THE TALMUD. I 27 bi. Sir John Mandeville is full of wonders, but Rabba bar bar Ghana is his equal. We are in the atmosphere of the Arabian Nights; the swift-footed Genii are abroad. What mys- terious noises, what sudden apparitions, what fanciful appearances and disappearances ! The rabbi sedately raises his magic wand, and the scene changes with the rapidity of a Mephisto. " Wandering voices mock the air ! Forms that phantoms are appear ! " That numerous commentaries have been written to explain his sky-rockets of hyperbole, that his interpreters go to work with the gravity and resolution of students of Shake- speare or Goethe, invest his tales with peculiar interest and assure him a kind of immortality. Like the proverbial story-teller, there is nothing bashful about Rabba. What he has not seen is not worth seeing, and what he has seen cannot be told in the picturesque strain. He once saw an Arab transfix a camel with his lance without disturbing the animal in the least. The desert of Israel's forty years' wan- derings is his favorite camping-ground. An 128 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Arab shows him Mount Sinai, and he hears from its summit a divine voice : " Woe that I have sworn ! and now after I have sworn to ex- ile Israel from his land — who will release me from the oath ? " He sees the very spot where Korah and his followers were swallowed up, and from the smoking depths these words are borne to his receptive ears, " Moses is truth, and his law is truth ; but we are liars." He views the exact spot where heaven and earth kiss each other. He hung his bread-basket there and went away, but when he returned, his basket was not to be found. His guide told him that if he would revisit the place in twenty- four hours, he would find the basket once more — could the earth's rotation be illustrated in a more poetic parable .'' The sea-stories that Rabba so cheerfully and constantly spun in days when the sea was shrouded in much more mystery than now, bear the mark of the traditional traveler. " I once was at sea," so he sagely relates, " and there I saw a fish whose back was covered with sand and grass. We all thought it was an island and landed, starting a fire to cook MUNCHA USEN OF THE TALMUD. I 2g our food. But when the fish felt the warmth, it turned over, and we would have been drowned if a ship had not rescued us." Upon another occasion, Rabba saw a bird which stood to its lower joints in the water, while its head reached the sky. He and his friends thought that the sea must here be shallow, and they prepared without any hesitation to bathe, when a voice exclaimed : " Enter not the water. A carpenter, seven years ago, let fall his axe on this very spot, and it has not yet touched bottom : not that the water is deep, but its current is rapid." Could a fish story of modern date equal the following .'' Rabba was once at sea wheri an immense fish was sighted. A small insect crept into its nose and caused its death. The waves cast ashore the body, which in its onset destroyed sixty cities. Its flesh nourished sixty cities more, while enough nutriment was left to serve as salt-fish for sixty other cities. Three hundred measures of oil streamed from its eyes. After the lapse of a few years, Rabba visited the place again, and found that the sixty destroyed cities had been rebuilt from its 130 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. bones. It was not enough, however, for Rabba to tell about a huge fish. He once saw an enormous frog, as large as sixty houses. It was swallowed atone gulp by a serpent, which in its turn was digested by a sea-monster. After the full meal, the fish coolly sat upon a tree. How strong a tree that must have been ! " If I had not been present," adds another sage, " I would not have believed it." Did the ex- aggeration exhaust Rabba .' Not at all. His vessel was once carried aloft by a tremendous wave, so close to a star that the people on board were almost scorched by the stellar heat. It is possible that many of Rabba's tales were but " The children of an idle brain Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;" yet some bear the mark of earnest purpose. They were parables for the times, sermons for the people, and couched in a style that would emphasize the truth which was sought to be conveyed. When he told of the sea-monster which was mistaken for land, until it turned over and threatened them M'ith destruction, MUNCHA USEN OF THE TALMUD. 1 3 I may he not have hinted at the Roman power, which apparently gave shelter, only at last to overwhelm them ? In those troublous ages, with informers and sycophants at every, step, political topics could be discussed only in a guarded way ; and the witty hyperbole was a mask for teaching" many a home truth, which the people could readily understand and apply to their own condition. The moral beauty in many of Rabba's stories is not to be denied, and their interpretation is a favorite with old- time preachers. Could duty to the dead be more powerfully exemplified than in the fol- lowing incident .'' Rabba relates that, while traveling in the wilderness, he came upon dead bodies of immense size, with their faces up- turned to the sky. He sprang from his camel and took the fringe from the garment of one of them. He remounted the animal, but it re- fused to advance a step until he had restored the stolen fringe. More lovely and suggestive is the story of the golden dove, which proves that Rabba was more than a mere humorist and satirist. He was traveling once with a caravan, and was resum- 132 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. ing the journey after a rest for dinner, when he became suddenly aware of the fact that he had forgotten to say the customary blessing after meals. He wished to repeat the prescribed prayer at the spot where he had eaten, but did not desire to acquaint his companions with the fact because they would not recognize the pro- priety of the law. So he gave as an excuse, that he had forgotten the golden figure of a dove, and wished to return. He started back, reached the spot of the previous station, uttered the prayer, and found in truth a golden dove. Could fantasy suggest a more striking parable to illustrate the worth of religious precepts .' One of the most obscure and enigmatic of Rabba's sayings has received such a serious and elaborate interpretation that it may be properly given here. " I was traveling in the desert," Rabba observes, "when I noticed a flock of geese, whose feathers had fallen off by reason of their fatness, and the fat was flowing from under them like a stream. I said to them: ' Will any of you have a portion in the future world .? ' Upon this, one of them uplifted a leg, and another its wing. When I told this to MUNCHAUSEN OF THE TALMUD. I 33 Rabbi Eleazar, he said to me, ' Israel will some day have to give an account for this.' " The interpretation is as follows : The fatness of the goose is the symbol of stupidity and ignorance. The wing represents the loftiness of wisdom, signifying in this allegory the mind, which possesses great capacities that are often neg- lected and hence sink into sensuality. It was Rabba's purpose to state that during his jour- ney of life he had found people of great ability, whose intellect was burdened by too many worldly duties, and who were led away by the gratifications of earth. Astounded at their negflect of mental culture, he examined this class of men as to whether they knew any- thing about another and a better existence — the world of knowledge and learning. There- upon, one of them pointed to his well-fed body, expressing the thought that bodily pleasure alone was his idea of happiness, intellectual and spiritual life being unknown to him. An- other, however, showed him his wing, and Rabba inferred from this action that they were still capable of the intellectual enjoyments of that other world, after which he was so dili- 134 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. gently inquiring. When he had related his experiences to Rabbi Eleazar, the latter said : " For those who have mental powers and abilities which they willfully neglect, in their entire abandonment to earthly gains and pur- suits, Israel will have, one day, to give solemn and strict account before God." THE RABBI'S DREAM. T F ever poverty had fastened upon a dwell- -*- ing, it was in the humble abode of Ha- nina. The scholars of his time were rarely noted for their opulence — they were satisfied to maintain themselves by honest toil, and never lost heart, however heavily the cares of life pressed upon them. In Hanina's case the shadows were dark indeed; but he was not the man to murmur. A little was ample for him- self and family. Their wants were few and readily supplied if water and bread were forth- coming. Yet Hanina was no ordinary sage. Modest, unassuming, and always content, like a bird, if a few crumbs fell to his share, he was re- garded as possessing marvelous gifts and the ability to perform miracles. Poor Hanina ! was not existence itself a miracle amid thy sur- roundings > Was there not something super- 136 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. natural in thy self-control and contentment, in the warmth of thy faith in the Eternal good- ness, although thy hearthstone was cold and bare ? Surely there must have been a miracle- working power in that soul of thine which kept thy countenance so placid and uncomplaining. What angelic agencies must have accompanied thee on thy walk to the academy and kept watch over thee in the debates and discussions of the masters ! Otherwise how couldst thou have displayed such learning and skill, with hunger and want gnawing within thee ? The good man, already crowned with the gift of divination, kept straight to the path assigned him and seemed to the outer world lost in phi- losophic thought. But his wife was far from being a prophet. She was intensely a woman, and however ardently she loved her husband, she desired no martyrdom. The cold blast could not be philosophized away. The chil- dren's hunger an5 her own necessities were facts ever present to her, and she felt that life was unduly hard. Stie grew ashamed of her poverty, which seemed to become greater and greater, and strove to conceal it as far as HE RABBI'S DREAM. I 37 possible from, her inquisitive neighbors. She saved, she toiled, and she was abundantly con- tent if once a week she could throw a blazing log into the oven, spreading a pillar of smoke which made it appear as if the weekly portion of bread was being baked. The deceit was pardonable, and it escaped detection for a time. In the neighborhood there lived a rather malicious woman who despised Hanina and his family for their poverty,, and who could not understand the weekly volumes of smoke issu- ing from their wretched abode. " What a sub- terfuge ! " she exclaimed to herself at last. " But they cannot deceive me. The trick is too transparent. I know they have no flour. How, then, can they bake bread .? I'll tear away their mask — the beggars that they are ! " Full of \>'rath, which is often called righteous according to the point of view, she hastened to Hanina's dwelling one day when the rising smoke was no longer to be endured, so obnox- ious had the sham become. She knocked at the door sharply and vigorously, as though she had an important duty to discharge which would brook no delay. Hanina's wife was I ^8 STORI&S FROM TH£ RABBIS. within and trembled at tlie sound. Visitors were rare and were certainly least welcome at that moment. With throbbing heart she opened the door, and, recognizing her visitor and the purpose of the visit, she blushed and fled into another room, leaving the field clear for the enemy. The visitor was all smiles. No opportunity could be more propitious. She was mistress of all she surveyed. With a bound she rushed to the oven and peered within. Oh, marvel of marvels ! It was full of bread, full to reple- tion. In her surprise and confusion she shouted: "Come, neighbor, be quick! The shovel! The bread is burning I" Hanina's wife hurried into the room, concealed her amazement, and saved the bread from destruction. Thus had the Lord performed a miracle to prevent Ha- nina's wife being put to shame. It was evening. Hanina came home and was met at the threshold by the wife. The won- derful story was quickly told. He listened, but said nothing. Silence is often of the highest wisdom. " Dear husband," said his wife, after a pause, TItE RABBVS DREAM. 1 39 "I have something more to say to thee. Nay, be not angry. I can no longer hold my peace. Tell me truly. Dost thou think that we shall forever lead such a life as is ours .? Will pov- erty be always our lot .? Are we never to en- joy a little sunshine, a little prosperity 1 Must our helpless children become beggars like their parents }" " I am not angry, dear wife," the husband answered. " I know thy .hardships, but I share them as well. What can I do ?" " What canst thou do ! " the woman repeated, half in anger, half in derision — "What canst thou do! Art thou not a worker of miracles.'' Do not thy prayers cure the sick and restore to life the dying .' Pray, then, for thine own. Let thy wife and children have some happiness in this world — a little more warmth and food and rai- ment than they now possess. Surely in the world to come there is a large share of wealth for so good and learned a man as thou art. Why not pray to God to allow thee some portion of it, however small, in our present existence ?" What could the poor man do .'' Entreated so earnestly by his wife, he withstood her im- 140 S TORIES FROM THE RABBIS. portunities for a while, for he thought them unworthy and irreHgious. But when he found that he could pacify her in no other way, he resigned himself to his lot and began to pray. Gentle at first were his tones of prayer, and ever gentler, until only his lips moved, framing the thoughts that sprang from his heart. While he was thus ardently praying, his eyes up- raised, his hands extended, he saw something shining in the distance and descending slowly. Fancy his astonishment when, as if in answer to his petition, there fell at his feet a massive golden leg of a golden table. What were Hanina's emotions as he raised his treasure ! He trembled and almost wept. And he felt self-accused, as though he had committed a crime. His conscience smote him, he knew not why. He went to bed, but could not sleep, so active was his fantasy. A thou- sand forms danced before him. A thousand aspects of cloud and mist pursued him in the visions of the night. And then he slept, while a deep, mysterious dream fell upon him. He stood before the gates of Heaven, whose portals swung open to receive him. The heav- THE RABBI'S DREAM. \\\ enly abode was all ablaze with gold and jewels, while the departed sat at their heavenly meal, each at a splendid golden table of his own. He, too, seemed to be seated before a table; but it shook and trembled, and when he tried to steady it, he found his labor in vain. A leg was missing. Terrified, the man awoke. The full significance of the dream burst upon him. It was a warn- ing which he dared not neglect. Was he to imperil future happiness by pleasure that was as transitory as the mist and as little real } When the holy ones of all races and creeds were enjoying future bliss, was he alone to be unsatisfied, agitated by the consciousness of guilt .? " Take thy gift back, O God !" Hanina cried in h's agony. " Take it back and restore me my peace of soul !" The gift vanished as mysteriously as it ap- peared, and Hanina never told his dream. He felt more firmly than ever the truth in the say- ing of the sages that no man can enjoy two meals — the one on earth, the other in heaven. THE GIFT THAT BLESSED. ri?EW men were better known than Aben -^ Judan. It was not only his wealth which spread his name and fame, but his unfailing benevolence and the courtesies which he ex- tended to all. He was the earliest to respond to the call of charity, and his personal services as well as his gold were alike at the disposal of the people. It is not surprising, then, that they loved him more and more, and the rabbis who annually traveled through Palestine to collect funds in aid of the poor, knew in ad- vance who would be their most generous con- tributor. Yet all the splendor of fortune did not dazzle Aben Judan: he retained a certain modesty of disposition and simplicity of char- acter ; and his faith was childlike and un- questioning. The day arrived, however, when Aben Judan THE GIFT THAT BLESSED. 1 43 was to learn that earthly wealth had no per- manence. A succession of calamities over- whelmed the province in which he lived. First, the storm-wind raged with fearful violence, destroying his luxuriant crops, uprooting his sturdy trees, and demolishing his buildings. His fair estate was a prey to the hurricane's devastation, and nought escaped. Then, per- haps as a result of the widespread ruin which drove his flocks and herds from their accus- tomed pastures, a distemper broke out among the cattle. It could not be checked, it rapidly gained headway, and soon Aben Judan, who surely did not deserve these hard strokes of fate, lost the greater part of his property. His land alone remained, which was quickly seized by creditors to meet their own obligations in the general panic. The reverse of fortune was complete and terrific. It would have prostrated a man of less heroic build; but Aben Judan, though he bent to the blow, preserved his equanimity, and was far from being utterly cast down. He had health yet — he could begin anew; such changes were part of life's varied experiences; 144 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. he could meet them manfully, and, like Job, declare, " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord ! " With this benediction on his lips, and his heart all aglow with gratitude, even at the moment of his apparent wretchedness, he retired to a small cabin and cultivated a remnant of land which was happily rescued from the general wreck. So diligently did he labor, his olden activity and intelligence coming to his aid, that his work was blessed beyond his most sanguine hopes. He was enabled to maintain his own family — that was his first ambition — and then how happy was he to find that he could also relieve the distress of others ! His lowly cabin formed the strongest possible contrast to his stately resi- dence in the past; but his heart retained its old-time charity, and he was comforted. It chanced one evening, as he was resting before the door after the fatigues of the day, and talking cheerfully to his children, who sur- rounded him, the news was brought that the three rabbis, who were accustomed to pay an- nual visits to the neighborhood, were on their rounds again, and might be expected at any THE GIFT THAT BLESSED. 1 45 moment. A change fell upon Aben Judan: he could not control his emotion. He became pale and agitated, and withdrew from the cir- cle of children with an exclamation of despair. "What ails thee, dear husband.?" his wife tenderly inquired; for she had noticed his sud- den sadness, and had followed him within. " Has some illness befallen thee which thou seekest to conceal .'' What is thy trouble .'' " " I have no illness," he replied, after a brief pause. " Yet my trouble is grievous, and would to heaven thou couldst assuage it. But that is impossible. It is God alone who can help at this crisis. Dost thou remember, wife, in the days of our prosperity how we rejoiced to aid the destitute .'' Our corn fed the hungry, our wool clothed the naked, and our wine cheered the sad at heart. What times were those ! How the orphans blessed us, the widows shed tears of joy at our approach, what happiness we diffused, which returned to us an hundredfold ! What bliss it was to participate in kindly deeds and realize the delight of scattering love to the deserving poor ! But all that is now changed. We can- 1 46 TORIES FROM THE RABBIS. not aid others, because we ourselves are so wretched and needy." " Why, husband, thy words surprise me ! " the wife exclaimed, deeply moved. " Thou art usually so happy in thy disposition, and dost never murmur against the will of God. Why art thou now so discontented 1 " " Didst thou not hear," Aben Judan an- swered, " didst thou not hear that the collect- ors are coming .' What sums we used to give them, what bounty gladdened them in the past ! What have we now to offer .' " " Is this the cause of thy distress .' " the wife replied. " God has not left thee destitute. Thou hast still some means. Hast thou not this very field ? Let us sell one-half of it and give the proceeds to the rabbis. There, beloved hus- band, canst thou be disconsolate now .'' " At her words Aben Judan's countenance beamed with joy. His old energy returned to him, his gloom departed. "Dearest," he cried, "thou hast made m'e happy again. My heart can safely confide in thee." Without delay Aben Judan followed his THE GIFT THAT BLESSED. 1 47 wife's suggestion, and sold half of his field. When the rabbis came he gave them the sum he had received, which they gratefully ac- cepted, and on taking their leave they said, as a parting benediction: "May the Lord restore to thee all thy wealth. Thine is the gift which blesses ! " Was it the hope which these words inspired .' Was it the consciousness of duty done ">. From the moment he began to work on the little ground remaining to him, his spirits rose, his industry was unflagging, he knew neither pain nor anxiety. And his wife encouraged him at his toil- — she had murmured a devout "Amen ! " when the rabbis blessed her husband, and she felt confident that their far^ell words would be realized. One day, while Aben Judan was tilling his field with his ox, the animal's forefeet suddenly sank in an excavation. Had another misfor- tune happened .' Was he about to lose the only ox he possessed } In haste he unyoked the poor beast, and managed to extricate him from the hole, but when he examined it more closely he saw something shining far below. 148 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. He resolved to descend, and enlarged the ex- cavation, when what was his amazement at find- ing an immense treasure, which one of his an- cestors had deposited in troublous times. With throbbing heart he conveyed the treas- ure to his home. At the threshold he told his wife, amid her tears of joy, what had occurred. Soon he was enabled to repurchase his former possessions, and became, again the generous friend of the poor and unfortunate. The months passed, and the period again arrived for the rabbis to visit the district on their charitable rounds. They approached the cabin where Aben Judan had lived when they had last met him, but found him not. So they inquired of the villagers as to his place of res- idence. " Aben Judan ! " they rejoined, "why, who can equal him in goodness and wealth .' Do ye see those flocks .-' They are his. Do ye mark those far-extending fields, those vine- yards and gardens so magnificent, those splen- did buildings .' All, all belong to him, our benefactor." In a moment Aben Judan drew near and THE GIFT THAT BLESSED. 149 greeted the rabbis in his cordial way; they re- turned his salutations as warmly. " Well, dear friends," he exclaimed, " your wishes and prayers have been heard, and abundantly fulfilled. Come now with me, and receive a portion of the blessing ye be- stowed upon me. I shall try to make full com- pensation for the small subscription of the past year." The rabbis followed him to his new abode, which was more spacious than his dwelling in his early days of good fortune, and there they were greeted by his wife, and well enter- tained. On parting, Aben Judan gave them a present for the poor larger than he had ever contributed before. " Hjlve I made amends," he asked, "for last year's humble offering .? " " We have a secret to tell thee," one of the rabbis answered. " Here is a list of last year's gifts, and, although many gave larger sums, thine is placed at the head. We knew that thy poverty, not thy soul, made the amount small. And yet it was thy gift which blessed." I 50 STOHIES FROM THE RABBIS. " Praise me not, dear friends," Aben Judan replied. " Does it not say in Holy Writ, ' Thou shalt not appear before the Eternal with empty hands. According as the Lord thy God has blessed thee, shalt thou give to the poor. ' " IN THE SWEAT OF THY BROW. ' I ""HE spirit of the Talmud is the spirit of -*- work and worship. Both were insisted upon : pickaxe as well as psalm. The early settlers in New England, who sowed their corn with one eye on their implement of husbandry and the other on the implement of war; Crom- well's men, who consulted their prayer-books as often as their muskets — these were kindred in character to. the olden rabbis. They could fight, could sow, could weave, could mend sails or shoes, and were adepts in every vari- ety of trade and handiwork, and could join just as stoutly in prayer and benediction, in earnest study and profound research. They were trained in a capital school — that of human ex- perienc-e; and if reading, travel, observation, suffering, did not sharpen their sagacity, many were hereditary artificers, men and women 152 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. whose sires had developed their taste and skill in connection with the building and furnishing of the Tabernacle and Temple. They were no nerveless ecclesiastics or pious weaklings. Their atmosphere was that of the workshop, not of the confessional. The synagogue was a school and assembly as well as prayer- meeting. The proverb is the mirror of a nation's thought, and reflects unerringly the national trait and custom. Rabbinical sayings prove that the rabbis regarded all work as sacred. They preached the holiness of labor ages be- fore Carlyle, and with more sincerity, for he labored with his pen alone; but they took part in the conflicts of history, fought and labored as well as thought and studied. As in " The Courtship of Miles Standish," it could be said of them: " You are a writer and I am a fighter, but here is a fellow who could both write and fight, and in both was equally skillful." It is a saying of Rabbi Joshua ben Levi that when God spoke to Adam the words, " Thorns and thistles will grow for you," tears gushed from his eyes, and he said, "Shall I then eat IN THE S WEA T OF THY BRO W. I 5 3 with my ass from one crib?" Quickly God replied, "In the sweat of thy countenance shalt thou eat bread." Then Adam was soothed. His soul was comforted in its affliction. He saw in labor compensation and consolation for life's bitterness and sin. The earth might be cursed for his disobedience, but the fruits of his industry would sweeten the struggle for existence. "Cover dead cattle on the public road and take thy pay and think not, 'I am a great man or priest, and the work is des- picable to me'" — so reads a passage in the Talmud. No work is to be despised if it saves one from mendicancy. " Great is labor," runs another Talmudic saying, " for it honors its master." " God did not permit His glory to rest upon Israel," says Rabbi Tarphon, "until it had accomplished a work." It is stated (Ex. XXV. 8), "Ye shall erect me a sanctuary, and t/ien 1 shall dwell in your midst." " If there are seven years of famine," reads another rab- binical saying, " it enters not the laborer's and artisan's door.'' Once a certain Simeon, a man of some ca- pacity, who dug cisterns and wells for a liveli- 154 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. hood, accosted Johanan ben Sakkai with the unflattering remark: " I am as great as thou." "How so?" rejoined the rabbi, somewhat amused. " Because I busy myself as much as thou dost with the necessities of the commu- nity. For instance," he continued, "if any one comes to thee to consult upon some legal or religious question, thou sayest, ' Drink from this well, for its waters are pure and cold. . . .' " Simeon's logic was clear and unanswerable. If the well and the bath had not been con- structed, how could the rabbi's commands be executed .' Hence the artisan is as necessary as the sage for the observance of the law, and must be placed upon the same moral plane. Although the rabbis say, "Who teaches no trade to his son teaches him to steal," different views obtained among them on the question of uniting study and labor. The general eth- ical principle was laid down that not theory but practice was the chief requisite, as they wished to guard against hypocrisy and formal- ism. But it was held by some, for example Simon ben Jochai, that heavy manual labor might be performed by slaves, so as to allow IN THE S WE A T OF THY BROW. I 5 5 Israelites more time for study. Ishmael took the opposite view. He interpreted the pas- sage, "Thou shalt gather thy grain" (Deut. xi. 14), to mean that study and manual labor were to be united, each in its own time and manner. Rabbi Ishmael gained the day; his explana- tion found acceptance; and those who acted as he did, the Talmud further relates, succeeded, while those who acted as Simon ben Jochai, failed. There was abundant reason for the remark of Rabbi Nehorai :" I let go all the employ- ments in the universe and teach my son noth- ing but the law.'' He did not mean, perhaps, to despise useful labor, but desired rather to express his reverence for the Law, to which Israel owed so much, and in whose study it forgot every privation and suffering. His col- leagues, however, were wiser and not less rev- erent when they placed law and labor on the same level, in the beautiful thought which has been handed down by the sages of Jamnia : " I am a creature of God and my neighbor the same; my work is in the city, his in the field. I rise early to my work, and he rises early to 156 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. his. As he does not boast of his work, I do not boast of mine. If you think I achieve much and he little, we have learned, ' One who achieves little is as one who achieves much, if only his heart be heavenward ! ' " Not a bad text that for translation into life ! It reminds one of Tennyson's Sir Galahad, whose work prospered because his heart was pure. The older-rabbis not only preached the bless- ings of industry, but they belonged largely to the industrial classes. The spirit of their teach- ings is aptly illustrated in the incident told of Abnemos, the weaver, who asked Abba Joseph, an architect, a religious question, just as the latter was engaged in the scaffolding of a bal- cony. But Abba Joseph refused to descend and waste his time in idle discussion, as he was a day laborer. Joshua ben Hananya, one of the most famous of his generation, was one day visited by Gamaliel, who wished to be recon- ciled to him, as they had exchanged words on a question of law. When Gamaliel entered, he exclaimed: "From the walls of thy house, blackened and dust- covered, men can tell that thou art a blacksmith." Joshua, fancymg that IN THE S WE A T OF THY BRO W. I 5 7 Gamaliel, who was a rabbi of great wealth, had come to mock his lowly occupation, replied with considerable heat : " Woe to the genera- tion whose leader thou art ! woe to the ship whose helmsman thou art ! for thou knowest not the poverty of the scholars and in what anxiety they live." As little ashamed of his trade was the son of Illai, who used to carry into the school-house the cask he made — he was a cooper — and seated upon it gave instruc- tions to his pupils. Varied indeed were the occupations of the rab- bis of the Talmud. Bar Adah was a surveyor; the illustrious Hillel was a woodsplitter. Agri- culture was a favorite with many. There were shoemakers not a few, and tailors, bakers, basket- makers, carpenters, cattle-dealers, millers, dy- ers, in good numbers; Abba Saul was latterly a prave-digger, but at first a wine-dealer. He was so conscientious in trade that he did not wish to retain the lees in a cask, which, he claimed, be- longed to the purchaser. He collected a large quantity and brought it to the Temple treasurers in Jerusalem. Although they accounted the lees as his property, he would make no use of it. Up- 158 STOJilES FROM THE RABBIS. on his death-bed he would stretch forth his hand and exclaim, "This hand was righteous in measuring." When Huna was asked to act as judge, he said, " Get a man who will draw water in my stead and I will act as judge." He was a poor farmer, and once, returning from his little plot of ground, with spade on his shoulder, he was met by the wealthy Hama, who wished to carry the spade. But Huna would not allow it, and continued on his way unconcerned. Hassda was a brewer, and grew so wealthy that he built an academy at Sura. Certain occupations were looked upon with disfavor, if not directly prohibited: donkey and camel-drivers, sailors, mud-collectors, petty merchants and shepherds. Trades, such as those of weavers, perfumers, tanners, bathers, washers, and wool-carders, were not supposed to add to one's reputation. It was Judah the Holy — the only one among the rabbis to re- ceive the title — who said : " There is no trade which will disappear from the world; happy is he who has seen practiced by his parents a beautiful and respected trade; and happy is he who has inherited no disreputable occupation. * IN THE SWEAT OF THY BROW. 159 Rabbi Meir taught: "One should strive to teach his son an easy and cleanly industry. Let us pray to Him • to whom belong wealth and goods, for in every trade there is as much wealth as poverty. But neither poverty -nor wealth depends upon the work ; far more they depend upon the worth and merit of the worker." Although trade-guilds, in the modern sense, did not exist in Talmudic times, a spirit of association prevailed. Certain occupations in connection with the Temple service were he- reditary, and the authorities had to tolerate the monopoly; as the workmen they once brought from Alexandria for the purpose were found unskillful and they had to double the wages of the original artisans. The copper- smiths had a separate synagogue and cem- etery in Jerusalem. Insurance companies flourished. In the great synagogue at Alex- andria, famous for its size and splendor, the various trades were grouped together — gold, silver, copper, and blacksmiths and weav- ers. When a poor man entered, the Talmud distinctly states, he recognized his fellow-work- l6o STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. men and turned to them, receiving food for himself and family. The rabbis were so deeply imbued with the necessity of work that in their views of the De- ity they regarded Him as a master-mechanic or employer. " The day is short," so reads one of their familiar sayings, "the work much, the workmen lazy, the reward great, and the Master urgent. Yet not like, slaves are we to work, in the hope of reward. We are to work rather for work's sake alone, with the fear of Heaven upon us; that is, with reverence for the Deity." This was the rabbinical ideal in those distant centuries ; thus did they labor, taking no pay for their services as teachers of the con- gregation. They taught what they wanted the people to know, not what the people wanted them to say. A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. /^^ REAT was the alarm in the palace of ^-^ Rome, which soon spread throughout the entire city. The Empress had lost her costly diadem, and it could not be found. They searched in every direction, but it was all in vain. Half distracted, for the mishap boded no good to her or her house, the Empress re- doubled her exertions to regain her precious possession, but without result. As a last re- source it was proclaimed in the public streets : " The Empress has lost a priceless diadem. Whoever restores it within thirty days shall re- ceive a princely reward. But he who delays, and brings it after thirty days, shall lose his head." In those times all nationalities flocked tow- ard Rome; all classes and creeds could be 1 62 STOKIES FROM THE RABBIS. met in its stately halls and crowded thorough- fares. Among the rest was a rabbi, a learned sage from the East, who loved goodness, and lived a righteotis life, in the stir and turmoil of the Western world. It chanced one night as he was strolling up and down, in busy medita- tion, beneath the clear, moonlit sky, he saw the diadem sparkling at his feet. He seized it quickly, brought it to his dwelling, where he guarded it carefully until the thirty days had expired, when he resolved to return it to the owner. He proceeded to the palace, and, undismayed at sight of long lines of soldiery and officials, asked for an audience with the Empress. "What dost thou mean by this.'" she in- quired, when he told her his story and gave her the diadem. " Why didst thou delay un- til this hour.' Dost thou know the penalty.' Thy head must be forfeited." "I delayed until now," the rabbi answered calmly, " so that thou mightst know that I return thy diadem, not for the sake of the re- ward, still less out of fear of punishment ; but solely to comply with the Divine command A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. 1 63 not to withhold from another the property which belongs to him." "Blessed be thy God!" the Empress an- swered, and dismissed the rabbi without further reproof ; for had he not done right for right's sake ? II. A certain father was doubly blessed — he had reached a good old age, and had ten sons. One day he called them to his side, and after repeated expressions of affection, told them that he had acquired a fortune by industry and economy, and would give them one hundred gold pieces each before his death, so that they might begin business for themselves, and not be obliged to wait until he had passed away. It happened, however, that, soon after, he lost a portion of his property, much to his regret, and had only nine hundred and fifty gold pieces left. So he gave one hundred to each of his nine sons. When his youngest son, whom he loved most of all, asked naturally what was to be his share, the father replied: "My son, I promised to give each of thy 164 STOXIES FROM THE RABBIS. brothers one hundred gold pieces. I shall keep my word to them. I have fifty left. Thirty I shall reserve for my funeral expenses, and twenty will be thy portion. But under- stand this — I possess, in addition, ten friends, whom I give over to thee as compensation for the loss of the eighty gold pieces. Believe me, they are worth more than all the gold and silver." The youth tenderly embraced his parent, and assured him that he was content, such was his confidence and affection. In a few days the father died, and the nine sons took their money, and without a thought of their youngest brother, and the small amount he had received, fol- lowed each his own fancy. But the youngest son, although his portion was the least, resolved to heed his father's words, and hold fast to the ten friends. When a short time had elapsed he prepared a simple feast, went to the ten friends of his father, and said to them : " My father, almost in his last words, asked me to keep you, his friends, in honor. Before I leave this place to seek my fortune elsewhere, will you not share with me a farewell meal, and A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. 165 aid me thus to comply with his dying re- quest ? " The ten friends, stirred by his earnestness and cordiality, accepted his invitation with pleasure, and enjoyed the repast, although they were used to richer fare. When the moment for parting arrived, however, one of them rose and spoke : " My friends, it seems to me that of all the sons of our dear friend that has gone, the youngest alone is mindful of his father's friendship for us, and reverences his memory. Let us, then, be true friends to him, for his own sake as well, and provide for hiqj a generous sum, that he may begin business here, and not be forced to live among strangers." The proposal, so unexpected and yet so merited, was received with applause. The youth, proud of their friendship, soon became a prosperous merchant, who never forgot that faithful friends were more valuable than gold or silver, and left an honored name to his de- scendants. III. There lived once a very wealthy man, who cared little for money, except as a means for 1 66 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. helping others. He used to adopt a pecuhar plan in his method of charitable relief. He had three boxes made for the three different' classes of people whom he desired to assist. In one box he put gold pieces, which he dis- tributed among artists and scholars, for he hon- ored knowledge and learning as the highest possession. In the second box he placed silver pieces for widows and orphans, for whom his sympathies were readily awakened. In the third were copper coins for the general poor and beggars — no one was turned away from his dwelling without some gift, however small. That the man was beloved by all, need hardly be said. He rejoiced that he was enabled to do so much good, retained his modest bearing, and continued to regard his wealth as only an incentive to promote the happiness of mankind, without distinction of creed or nationality. Unhappily, his wife was just the opposite. She rarely gave food or raiment to the poor, and felt angry at her husband's liberality, which she considered shameless extravagance. The day came when in the pressure of vari- A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. 167 ous duties he had to leave his house, and could not return until the morrow. Unaware of his sudden departure, the poor knocked at the door as usual for his kind gifts; but when they found him absent, they were about to go away or remain in the street, being terrified at the thought of asking his wife for alms. Vexed at their conduct, she exclaimed impetuously: " I will give to the poor according to my hus- band's method." She seized the keys of the boxes, and first opened the box of gold. But how great was her terror when she gazed at its contents — frogs jumping here and there. Then she went to the silver box, and it was full of ants. With troubled heart, she opened the copper box, and it was crowded with creeping bugs. Loud then were her complaints, and bitter her tears, at the de- ception, and she kept her room until her hus- band returned. No sooner did the man enter the room, an- noyed that so many poor people were kept waiting outside, than she asked him: "Why did you give me keys to boxes of frogs, ants, and bugs, instead of gold, silver, and copper .? 1 68 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Was it right thus to deceive your wife, and dis- appoint the poor ? " " Not so," rejoined her husband. " The mis- take must be yours, not mine. I have given you the right keys. I do not know what you have done with them. Come, let me have them. I am guiltless of any deception." He took the keys, quickly opened the boxes, and found the coins as he had left them. " Ah, dear wife," said he, when she had regained her composure, "your heart, I fear, was not in the gift, when you wished to give to the poor. It is the feeling that prompts us to aid, not the mere money, which is the chief thing after all." And ever after her heart was changed. Her gifts blessed the poor of the land, and aroused their love and reverence. IV. In an Eastern city a lovely garden flour- ished, whose beauty and luxuriance awakened much admiration. It was the owner's greatest pleasure to watch its growth, as leaf, flower, and tree seemed daily to unfold to brighter bloom. One morning, while taking his usual A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. 1 69 stroll through the well-kept paths, he was sur- prised to find that some blossoms were picked to pieces. The next day he noticed more signs of mischief, and rendered thus more observant he gave himself no rest until he had discovered the culprit. It was a little trembling bird, whom he managed to capture, and was about to kill in his anger, when it exclaimed: "Do not kill me, I beg you, kind sir. I am only a wee, tiny bird. My flesh is too little to satisfy you. I would not furnish one-hundredth of a meal to a man of your size. Let me free with- out any hesitation, and I shall teach you some- thing that will be of much use to you and your friends." " I would dearly like to put an end to you," replied the man, " for you were rapidly putting an end to my garden. It is a good thing to rid the world of such annoyances. But as I am not revengeful, and am always glad to learn something useful, I shall set you free this time." And he opened his hand to give the bird more air. "Attention!" cried the bird. "Here are three rules which should guide you through I 70 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. life, and if you observe them you will find your path made easier: Do not cry over spilt milk; do not desire what is unattainable, and do not believe what is impossible." The man was satisfied with the advice, and let the bird escape; but it had scarcely re- gained its liberty, when, from a high tree op- posite, it exclaimed: " What a silly man ! The idea of letting me escape ! If you only knew what you have lost ! But it is too late now." " What have I lost .'' " the man asked, angrily. " Why, if you had killed me, as you intended, you would have found inside of me a huge pearl, as large as a goose's egg, and you would have been a wealthy man forever." " Dear little bird," the man said in his bland- est tones; "sweet little bird, I will riot harm you. Only come down to me, and I will treat you as if you were my own child, and give you fruit and flowers all day. I assure you of this most sacredly." But the bird shook its head sagely, and re- plied: "What a silly man, to forget so soon the advice which was given him in all serious- A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. I 71 ness. I told you not to cry over spilt milk, and here you are, worrying over what has hap- pened. I urged you not to desire the unattain- able, and now you wish to capture me again. And, finally, I asked you not- to believe what is impossible, and you are rashly imagining that I have a huge pearl inside of me, when a goose's e.^^ is larger than my whole body. You ought to learn your lessons better in the future, if you would become wise," added the bird, as with another twist of its head it flew away, and was lost in the distance. THE EXPIATION. TT was a happy, buoyant maiden who was ■*- rapidly walking along the fragrant coun- try paths on some errand for her parents, per- haps, or merely for the exercise in the pleasant afternoon air. Bright visions must have danced across her fancy, for her eyes were shining, and she laughed repeatedly in the gladsome unconsciousness of youth and health. "How thirsty I am!" she said to herself, pausing for a moment, and gazing around. "If I only had a cooling draught of water ! Why, there is a well ! How fortunate, indeed ! I shall take a few mouthfuls anyway, and rest awhile in the shade. It looks so inviting there." She hastened to the well by the wayside — an everlasting boon to the traveler in the Ori- ent — and stooped over in her eagerness, hold- ing on to the branch of a tree, which stood 172 THE EXPIA TION. I 'J'^ sentinel on the spot. Suddenly it snapped un- der the pressure, and the girl was precipitated below. Happily, the broken bough, which fell with her, saved her from instant death; for it became wedged in the well, and gave her a slight foothold just above the surface of the water. When she recovered consciousness from the shock of the fall, the afternoon had faded into eve, and the few stars that glittered above her head told her that night was rapidly approach- ing. The merriment had forsaken her now — her smiles and laughter belonged to the re- mote past. Her thoughts were of her home and her parents, the general anxiety that would be felt at her sudden disappearance, and the abrupt ending of her young life. What had she done to deserve so sad a fate 1 Was it because she had been too happy .? But perhaps her absence would be discovered, and people would search for her, and find her at last. Regaining her courage, after a silent prayer, her voice broke the stillness, and her appeals for help, shouted with all her young strength, were reechoed again and again. Then she I 74 Sl'ORIES FROM THE RABBIS. waited for some response, but nothing seemed to stir, save the birds which darted across the well, and the trees which swayed to and fro. No intelligible sound came to her but the echo of her voice, which she hardly recognized at first, so despairing was its tone. Her anxious heart-beats came loud and fast. Soon the stars shone out still more clearly, as if mid- night were at hand, and the songs of the dawn were next to be heard. How endless was the weary waiting ! She resigned herself to the inevitable — the branch at her feet seemed to be giving way, and she was slipping slowly to her fate. There was no hope. The end had come. Again her voice rang out in her despair. " Who's there .' " came a cry from above. "Save me, save me!" shouted the maiden in response, while new hope gave strength to her utterance. " Save me ! I am down in the well. Be quick ! My support is giving way." In a few minutes, after vigorous effort, a strong arm had lifted her from her perilous po- sition, and they saw each other for the first time, the youth and the maid. She told her THE EXP I A TION. I 75 story tremblingly, and every word she uttered only increased his interest and aroused his sympathy. He thought he had never seen one so good and fair, and took no pains to conceal his admiration. "Say no more," she exclaimed; "you are strong and brave, and have rescued me from death. My heart goes strongly toward you. But this is no time and place for further talk. I am a poor Jewish girl of lowly parentage. If you would woo me, come to my house, and see my father and mother, as is the custom in Israel. And now, good youth, let me hasten to them. They are frantic, perhaps, at my long absence. Thanks, a thousand thanks for your brave deed ! " " I am of a priestly family in Israel," he re- joined, proudly, " and would marry you, if you would give your consent. Let me first have a pledge from you, before I ask your parents." "Do you wish a pledge of our betrothal/'" she replied, half roguishly. "Why, here are witnesses. Let that weasel, which is running across the path and hears our talk, be a witness. Let the well, from which you rescued me, be a I 76 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. witness. And if you need a third witness, look at that bright star ahead of us. It shone on me so friendly when I was in peril. Let the star there be our third witness." And so they parted — he, to his duties and rich possessions; she, to her humble abode. Would they ever meet again } A week had elapsed since her deliverance from the well. Each day she expected the youth, but he never came. She tried to ex- cuse him — he was busy, no doubt, and lived at some distance, but his neglect was strange. A month glided by, and still no word from him. What did it mean .'' Was he faithless 1 Had he forgotten her .' Impossible ! He had risked his life to save hers, and the memory of his courage silenced the reproaches which were beginning to stir within her at his apparent in- difference. It was a painful struggle, as month followed month and year followed year. No complaint was heard. She kept her sorrow to herself, but she refused to mingle in the society of her little village. The attentions that her beauty THE EXPIATION. I 77 won grew distasteful. Many suitors appealed for her hand, but they were dismissed in quick succession. Her parents were surprised and grieved, but that was of no avail. They could not understand her mysterious behavior, and she would not explain it, although she loved them passionately. She must be ill — perhaps her reason was giving way, due to her accident at the well. So the rumor spread that her mind was af- fected; and only too glad that she was now in no danger of being sought in marriage, she strove to confirm the report by eccentricities of manner and dress, which aroused the gen- eral compassion of the neighborhood. Would the people have been as compassionate if they had known the truth, and how in the silence of her room she wept bitter tears as she thought of her lover } But she did not lose her faith. He would return to her and woo her as he had promised. Were there not three witnesses of their betrothal 1 The maiden was happy in her ignorance — for the youth was faithless. He had married one of his own raiik and station, and was sur- I 78 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. rounded by every luxury, while a laughing babe gladdened him and his wife. One day, as it was asleep in its cradle, the mother for a moment left the room to perform some house- hold duty. When she returned, what was her horror to find the infant dead, its little throat pierced by a weasel's fangs ! She never forgot the death of her first-born, and when the sec- ond babe came she watched it constantly, as if to guard it from some hidden foe. It was a strong, healthy boy, and grew rapidly under his mother's tender care. She never left him — day and night he was with her. He had reached his third year and his mother's fears were passing away, when, one afternoon, he ran out into the garden unobserved. Rushing to the well, which was unguarded, he fell in and was drowned, before his agonized parents were aware of his danger. A few weeks had passed. It was early even- ing. The mother, whose fears had again been awakened by the sudden death of the child, felt positive that there was some mystery, which her husband alone could explain. " Husbandj" she said, as they sat together THE EXPIATION. I 79 by the open door, "what curse is on thy Hfe ? Why have our two babes been snatched from us by such dreadful deaths ? Tell me. Thou knowest the reason. Conceal nothing from me. There has been too much concealment already, and my children have paid the pen- alty." And she wept aloud in her grief. "Nay, wife," he replied, "do not weep. It makes my agony the harder to bear." "Husband," she repeated, "thou wilt not look me straight in the face. Thy eyes avoid mine. Tell me the truth. Reveal the secret, I adjure thee by our wedded troth ! " He could not resist her pleading gaze, but told her all. She listened intently to the re- cital; not a word escaped her notice. Every incident seemed photographed on her brain — she saw the maiden in the well, heard her cries for help, joined in her rescue, and caught the words which plighted her to her deliverer. The husband was reaching the end of the story. His tones grew fainter as he spoke of the wit- nesses, the weasel, the well, and the star. " Oh, husband ! " she exclaimed, pressing her hand to her heart, " see that bright star over- l8o STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. head ! It is piercing me ! It has killed me ! Thy sin has been expiated at last. Seek the one whom thou didst rescue and save her now from despair and death. Go. Delay no longer." And she sank back lifeless, as tRe bright star seemed to vanish in the distant heavens. When the man entered the village and in- quired for the parents of the maiden, he was met by such strange looks that he asked the reason. They then told him of the girl's odd behavior and how she refused to see anybody. No one seemed to understand the cause of her peculiar illness, which had lasted some time. Her parents had sought the best medical ad- vice, but without avail. She regarded every stranger with suspicion, and resented all in- quiries. She kept to herself, and her parents were happy that she continued calm. She had doubtless received some mental shock, and they traced it to her accident in the well sev- eral years previously. Glad at least to learn that she was alive, and rightly interpreting her behavior as indicating her loyalty to him, who was unworthy of her THE EXPIATION. l8l ardent faith, he sought an interview with her parents and begged to be allowed to see their daughter. At first they were not inclined to consent, not wishing to torture her by permit- ting a stranger to enter her presence. He was, however, so persistent, and spoke so confi- dently of his ability to cure mental disease, with which their daughter was afflicted, that they reluctantly yielded. She had not changed much. Her beauty was still preserved. He recognized her at once, but she failed to see in the cold, calm stranger the impassioned youth who had de- livered her from death. He assumed a critical attitude, stood at some distance from her, then came nearer, and uttering in a low voice, for her alone, the words, " Three witnesses — star, well, weasel ! " left the room rapidly, followed by her parents, who were completely mysti- fied by his actions. Who can attempt to describe her joy and wonderment at the voice and words .' She re- strained herself until she was left alone, and then her thanksgiving was devout, while the happy tears could not be held back. At last. I 82 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. at last, after years of waiting, he had come to redeem his pledge. They were but moments, not years now. All doubts were removed, all misgivings set at rest. Her eyes beamed as brightly as in her early maidenhood, fresh color came into her cheeks, her listlessness and melancholy left her, and she was her own bright self once more. Her parents, astounded and delighted at the change, ascribed everything to the strange physician and begged him to continue his visits until her health was fully restored. He gladly acceded to their request, and they were rejoiced to note how much stronger and happier their daughter grew, when once his identity was established and she learned that he loved her as of yore. A week had passed and the man felt that he could deceive her parents no longer. Gather- ing courage from the strength of her affection and the nobility of her character, he told them that he had a secret to impart, and revealed his history. He did not spare himself and his faithlessness. When he spoke of his wife and his children, they could not restrain their THE EXPIATION. 1S3 tears. He related the story of their deaths, and wondered why they had suffered when he was to blame. Then he described his wife's last words, urging him to seek the maiden to whom he had plighted his troth and to rescue her again from despair which was worse than death. " You have expiated your error, my son," the father said, deeply moved. " We cannot question the ways of God's providence. You, too, have suffered. And now you have come to make full atonement. Let my daughter, whom you once so cruelly deceived, decide whether the expiation is complete." " I have alrf^ady decided," she said, clasping his hand. " He was betrothed to me in right- eousness and in justice, in loving-kindness and mercy. I never lost my faith in him. Let righteousness and mercy, let justice and lov- ing-kindness be our witnesses forever ! " A STRING OF PEARLS. T N a year when prices were high, a pious ■*- man gave money to a wandering beggar. His wife, a veritable Xanthippe, so upbraided him for his act of kindness, that he fled from home, and spent the night — it was New Year's — in the graveyard. There, in the hush and stilhiess of the hour, he heard the departed souls of two maidens hold converse. " Fly with me, dear sister," said the one, "through airy space to heaven, that we may learn the fate of the coming year.'' " How can I leave the grave .' " the other re- plied. " I have not been buried in garments suited for so long a flight. Go thou alone, and let me know what thou hearest." Soon the maiden's soul returned, with the information that in the coming year the early harvest would be destroyed by hail, but the 184 A STRING OF PEARLS. 185 late harvest would prosper. The pious man heard their talk, and as he was a prudent far- mer, he acted accordingly, making wise pro- vision for the future. In the meanwhile, he and his wife were on good terms again, but he could not resist the temptation to pass the next New Year's night in the same graveyard. Again, in the silence of the place, he heard the souls of the maidens in mysterious con- verse, but now their story was reversed. Dur- ing the coming year the early harvest was to flourish, but the late harvest would be destroyed by a scorching wind. Again, the man knew "how to profit by their colloquy; and, while all his neighbors complained of their bad fortune, his crops were richly blessed. Now, the man's wife possessed all the curios- ity of Bluebeard's spouse. She asked her hus- band the secret of his extraordinary good luck, and he told her, with much pride. Filled with the news — such a choice morsel was not hers every day — she hastened to the mother of the maiden burie,d in such unsightly fashion, and reviled her for her conduct; then returned home, thoroughly self-satisfied. Once more 1 86 Sl^OKIES FROM THE RABBIS. the New Year arrived, and again the pious man spent the night in the graveyard. But when a tremulous maiden-soul asked its com- panion to accompany it through space, the poor child rejoined, "Let me rest! Let me rest ! The living have heard what we have here spoken in secret." The man strained every nerve; he caught no other sound but the sighing breeze. A king had in his garden a yawning pit of great magnitude. One day he hired a number of workmen to fill it up. Some of them went to the sides of the pit, and as they saw its depth they exclaimed, " How is it possible to fill it.'" and they gave up the work in de- spair. But the others said, " What matters it how deep it is 1 We are engaged by the day, and are happy to have something to do. Let us be faithful in our duty, and we will fill the pit as soon as we possibly can." Let no man say: " How immeasurable is the divine law ! it is deeper than the sea; how many statutes to be performed ! how can we carry them out and obey every command } " God says to man, " Thou art engaged by the day; do the A STRING OF PEARLS. 187 work which thou canst, and think of naught else." A prince once distributed costly garments among his slaves. The wise ones kept theirs carefully, but the foolish wore theirs even on work-days. Suddenly the prince summoned his slaves to a special audience, and said: "I wish to see again the clothes which I gave you." The garments of the wise slaves were clean, without a fold or stain; but the attire of the foolish slaves was stained and spoilt. Earnestly then rang out his words: " Ye wise ones, take your garments home and live in peace. Ye foolish ones, cast them into the fire to cleanse them ! " Let thy soul— such is the meaning of the parable — return to its Maker as pure as when given thee. God may summon it at any moment. Be ever ready for the call. As poetical is the rabbinical legend about David's harp. The royal Psalmist slept but little; he gave precious hours to the study of God's law. Over his bed he hung his harp, and at midnight, moved by the north wind, it poured forth of itself sweet melody. Aroused 1 88 S7VRIES FROM THE RABBIS. by the sound, David sprang from his couch, and spent the rest of the night in study and in song. Could the rabbis have told more im- pressively how the Psalms were the melody of David's soul, stirred by pious emotion ? To illustrate benevolence as a typical virtue of womankind, the story is told of Rabbi Hillel's wife, that once a poor man came to her and piteously begged for food. Seeing his famished state, she impulsively gave him all that she had on hand, and then quietly set to work to prepare a fresh meal. When dinner was ready, Hillel asked his wife the reason of the delay. She told him, unabashed, what she had done, and her husband blessed her for her true piety and kindliness. The rabbis were not only teachers, but traders as well, carrying on various kinds of business for their livelihood. That they were not so very close at a bargain, a suggestive story would prove. A rabbi, while engaged in prayer, was approached by a customer who offered a certain price for some goods. He continued his devotions undisturbed. In his eagerness the man doubled his offer, thinking A STRING OF PEARLS. 1 89 that the rabbi's silence was due to his being dissatisfied with the first price. In the mean- time, the prayer came to an end, and the rabbi sold the goods at the first price ofifered. He was satisfied with it, and only on account of his prayers could give no answer. When Herodotus told about the ring of Polycrates, he hardly imagined that the Tal- mud could furnish a parallel. The -story is a practical argument in favor of Sabbath ob- servance. There lived once a righteous Is- raelite, whose scrupulous regard for the Sab- bath was widely known. It was a day he held in such high honor that he spared no cost to give it a holiday aspect. The Sabbath among the Jews was never a day of gloomy asceticism; manual labor and needless exer- tion were forbidden; but the atmosphere was a bright and joyous one. In the Israelite's vicinity lived a heathen of great wealth. It was foretold to the latter that his property should fall into the Jew's hands. Determined to thwart prophecy, he sold all his fortune for a precious gem, which he sewed in his turban, SO that he might always have his property with igO STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. him. Once, while crossing a bridge, the breeze blew his turban into the water, and with it he lost his dearly prized jewel. The next day a large fish was brought to market, and, as the Israelite wished to have it for his Sabbath meal, he secured it at a high price. On opening it, the jewel was found, which made him wealth)'- for all time. The special sanctity attached to the Sabbath is farther illustrated in a story told of the Em- peror Antoninus and Rabbi Judah the Holy. They were on friendly terms with each other, and one Sabbath the emperor dined with the rabbi and found the cold food very appetizing. He chanced to eat at the rabbi's house another time — it was on a week day — and although the hot repast was varied and costly, this did not taste as well as the other. " Wilt thou tell me, rabbi," the emperor asked, with a curiosity which was excusable in the monarch of Rome, "what made the cold food so appetizing.''" " There was a certain spice used in its prepara- tion," the rabbi replied, "which is called Sab- bath, and gives every dish a pleasant flavor.'' " Let me see it," the emperor answered quick- A STRING OF PEARLS. 191 ly. " I would very much like to have it used in my kitchen." "This precious spice," said the rabbi, "is only to be used by those who keep the Sabbath day holy." A fair specimen of rabbinical fancy is the following. The world contains ten hard things. The mountain is hard ; iron pierces it. Iron is hard ; fire melts it. Fire is hard ; water extinguishes it. Water is hard ; the cloud carries it. The cloud is hard ; the air disperses it. The air is hard ; man endures it. Man is hard ; care bends him. Care is hard ; wine banishes it. Wine is hard ; sleep con- quers it. But death is harder than all things ; and still' Solomon maintains, " Benevolence rescues from death." The arrival of the king was anxiously awaited in a city. The streets were full of people, all eager to catch a glimpse of their ruler's face. A blind rabbi, Sheshet by name, mingled in the jostling crowd. Next to him stood a man who said scornfully, " Whole pitchers may go to the well — what do broken ones want .-' " The rabbi observed that the words were ap- plied to him on account of his blindness, and 192 STOK/ES FROM THE RABBIS. answered softly, " Be calm, my friend ; you will soon be convinced that I see better than you." ■ Amid great noise a procession ap- proached. " The king comes," the man ex- claimed. "No," said the rabbi, "that is not the king.'' A second train of men drew near, amid the wildest uproar. " Now it is the king," said the man, confidently. " No," re- plied the rabbi, " again you are mistaken." At last a third procession approached and a solemn stillness prevailed. "Now the king has arrived," said the rabbi, and it was truly so. " How can you knov/ this in your blind- ness V asked the man, amazed. " An earthly sovereign," rejoined the rabbi, " resembles the heavenly Monarch. When God appeared in the wilderness to the prophet Elijah, there were storm, fire, and earthquake. Yet in all these violent manifestations of nature, the Deity ap- proached not. It was only when a light breeze stirred that the prophet heard the voice of God." A rabbi went out walking with some friends, and crossing a field he stopped and pointing to a beautiful vineyard, said, " This was mine, A STRING OF PEARLS. 1 93 and I sold it for the poor, so that I might wholly devote myself to study." Going fur- ther, he pointed to a spacious field : " This too was mine," he exclaimed, " but I sold it, so as to have no other care than my holy studies." 'A few minutes' walk brought them to another field. " This was my last posses- sion," he said, " but I gave it up so that I might have no other thought than the study of the Law." His friends, saddened at his words, which they regarded as showing an absolute want of prudence, replied : "What hast thou preserved for thy old age.''" " Are you anx- ious on that account .' " said he, smiling. " Why, I have resigned things which are given us only for a few days, for a possession that will last much longer." Once a sage met the prophet Elijah in the crowded market-place, and full of curiosity he asked Elijah who of all the bustling throng would be saved. " None," replied the prophet, slowly. " What ! " the sage exclaimed, " no one of all these people .' " At this moment two men entered the street and mingled with the crowd. They seemed in humble cir- I 94 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. cumstances and no one noticed them or bade them greeting. "These will be saved," said the prophet in a low voice. The sage advanc- ing toward them asked : " Will ye not kindly tell me what is your occupation in life .'' What are your virtues .■' What are your deeds } " "Virtues! deeds ! " they replied, astounded. " In truth thou must be confounding us with somebody else. We are poor people and live by the work of our hands. Our only merit is is that we have merry hearts. When we meet one who is sad, we strive to chase away his sorrow. When we learn of two who are at enmity, we step in and try to make peace. This is our life-work." The men soon were lost in the crowd, but the sage did not for- get their words. When the Egyptians sank into the sea, the angels prepared to sing a hymn of joy. Then God spoke in His anger : " My creatures have sunk into the sea, and ye would sing a triumphant song ! " When the hour for hea- thenism's fall draws nigh, so as to make room for Israel's triumph. Heaven will exclaim, "Both are my creatures: shall I destroy one A S THING OF PEARLS. 195 for the other ? " The Lord assured Moses : " Israelite or heathen, man or woman, servant or freeman, all are equal in my sight; every good deed has its reward." One day Hillel was seen by some of his dis- ciples walking rapidly along the road. " Where are you going ? " they asked. " I am going to perform a commandment," he replied gently. "Tell us, master," they asked, "what special commandment.?" "Why," he rejoined, "it is to bathe myself in the bath-house." Full of curiosity, they inquired, " Is that one of the commandments .' " ' " Yes, indeed," Hillel an- swered. " If the statues of kings which are placed in the theatres and circuses must be kept clean and washed, how much more should I keep my body clean, for are we not all created in the image of God .''" Rabbi Akiba once taught for a time in the morning under a large fig-tree. When the fruit grew ripe, the owner went out very early and gathered the ripe figs. The rabbi thought the honesty of himself and his disciples was suspected, and so chose another spot. The owner, troubled that they had gone, sought 196 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. them out and asked why they had left his place. The rabbi told him the reason. " I did not suspect you," he quickly replied. " Re- turn, I entreat you." They returned and the next morning the owner did not gather the figs; and when the sunbeams fell upon the tree, the ripe fruit became full of worms. " Now you see," said the owner, " why I plucked the fruit — because I did not desire it to be de- stroyed." " And now you see," said Rabbi Akiba to his disciples, " the full force of the words in the Song of Songs (vi. 2), ' My be- loved is gone down to his garden to gather lilies.' Just as the owner of the fig-tree knows the exact time when his fruit must be gathered, so God knows when the righteous are to be taken from the world." A certain rabbi once bought a camel of a wandering Arab, and his disciples took it in charge. Fancy their surprise, however, on re- moving the saddle, to discover a string of dia- monds. " Master ! " they exclaimed in their excitement, "thou art favored by providence. Here is wealth as a reward for thy merits." " My pupils," rejoined the rabbi, " delay not a A STRING OF PEARLS. igj moment. Take back the diamonds to the man who sold me the animal. I bought a camel — not precious stones." The owner was not a little surprised to receive his diamonds, and blessed the rabbi for his honesty. "Why do ye not rustle.''" the fruit-trees were once asked. " Why should we make a noise .''" they answered. " We do not need to attract attention. Our fruit testify in our favor." " Why do ye stir and rustle so much } " the forest trees were once questioned. " If we did not make a noise," they rejoined, "we would not be noticed at all." Man has three friends — children and other relatives, wealth, and the good deeds he has performed. When he is near his death, he calls his first friend and beseeches his help. " I cannot help you," is the reply. " Does it not read in the Bible, ' Brother cannot redeem brother ' ? " He turns to the second friend, who says, "Scripture writes, 'Wealth is of no avail in the day of wrath.' " Finally he appeals to his good deeds, who answer, "When you approach God's judgment seat, you will find us there, and we will speak in your favor, as IgS STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. it is written, ' Thy righteousness will advance before thee when the glory of God receives thee.'" " Here," said an Athenian to a Hebrew lad, " take this small coin, and purchase something for it, of which I may eat enough, leave a little for my host, and carry home a bit for my chil- dren." The lad quickly went and brought back salt. " Why didst thou purchase this .? " the Athenian asked in anger. " I did not mention salt." " I am only obeying thy in- structions," was the answer with a laugh. " Here is something of which thou mayst eat, leave some behind, and have a bit besides for thy little ones." How remarkably — so reads a rabbinical thought — has the tongue been provided for in the economy of nature ! Its position is care- fully guarded, being placed within the mouth. To restrain it within its natural bounds, it has two outer walls — teeth and lips. To cool its intense ardor, it has been surrounded by a special streamlet — the salivary glands. Yet despite all these great precautions exercised, how readily does it occasion mischief, what A STRING OF PEARLS. 199 fierce flame it arouses, what wretchedness does it cause ! A learned rabbi was walking one day amid the ruins of Jerusalem, accompanied by a fi-iend. When he passed the spot where for- merly the Temple stood in all its splendor, " Alas ! " he cried, " the Temple, where we atoned for our sins, has fallen. How now shall we find atonement ? " " Do not trouble thyself, master," said his friend gently. "A powerful means of atonement is left us. Be- nevolence will serve instead of offerings." When it was decreed that the Law should be announced from the summit of a mountain, great was the rivalry among the mountains of the earth. Each desired the honor for itself, and was loud in its own praise. Then was heard a voice which said: " Ye are mountains, but ye are stained. Upon your heights altars have arisen, and smoke has ascended in wor- ship of idols. Sinai alone is unstained, and from its crest shall resound the Divine word." Rabbi Gamaliel, head of the academy, cele- brated his son's wedding, and among his guests were three rabbis, Elieser, Joshua, and Sadok, 200 STORIES FROM THE RABBIS. Gamaliel handed a goblet of wine to Elieser, who did not accept it, being unwilling to be served by so eminent a scholar. It was next offered to Joshua, who quaffed it without a mo- ment's hesitation. " Is it proper," said Elieser to Joshua, " that we are seated comfortably here, and allow ourselves to be waited on by our master .'' " "I know a greater man," Joshua rejoined, " who waited on his guests. Did not the patriarch Abraham wait upon vis- itors who he thought to be Arabian travelers, not angels .■" " "How long," Sadok observed, " will you talk about the honor of mankind and forget the glory of the Creator .' Does not God wait upon humanity .' Does He not let the winds blow and the clouds descend 1 Does He not send rain to fructify the soil, that plants may spring forth ? Does He not then set the table for every living being 1 " For everj/ living being ! That was the uni- versahsm of the rabbis, and while, in times of sharp distress and bitter recrimination, their utterances were human in their passion and agony, that spirit of broad humanity was never A STRING OF PEARLS. 20I wholly absent. " A heathen," said Rabbi Meir, " who occupies himself with the law of God stands in the same rank as the high priest." END. Popular New Books FROn THE LIST OF CHARLES L. WEBSTER & CO. Fiction. The £1,000,000 Bank-Note and Other Stories.— By Mark Twain. The Bank of England once issued two notes of a million pounds each. Two rich English- men — brothers — fell into a dispute as to what would become of an honest stranger turned adrift in London with no money but one of these million-pound bank- notes, and no way to account for his being in possession of it. How they found the man — a young American — and his adventures with the note, are fully related in the story. The book contains other stories, many of which have never before appeared in print, and none in book form. They include: "About Ships, from Noah's Ark to the Vessels of To-day," "Playing Cour- ier," "A Cure for the Blues," "The Enemjr Con- quered," "The German Chicago," "A Majestic Lit- erary Fossil," "Letterto Queen victoria," and "Mental Telegraphy." "With a frontispiece by Dan Beard. Cloth, 8vo, $1.00. Stamped leather, $1.50. Elizabeth: Christian Scientist. — By Matt Crim, author of ' ' Adventures of a Fair Rebel, "etc. The suc- cess of Miss Crim's previous works of Action encourages us to announce her new novel with much confidence. The story deals with the career of a refined and deeply religious girl, who leaves her home in the Georgia mountains with the object of converting the world to Christian Science. Her romantic experiences in the great cities of the Union are vividly portrayed ; and the fact that, after all, her destiny is to be loved and wedded 2 Popular New Books does not detract from the book's interest. The true aims and spirit of Christian Science are set forth by Miss Crim in a manner calculated to do away with many false im- pressions. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. Stories from the Babbis. — By Abeam S. Isaacs, Ph. D., professor of German and Hebrew in the Uni- versity of the City of New York. Dr. Isaacs has gath- ered from the Talmud and Midrash a most interesting collection of non-sectarian stories, and has re-told them in genial prose. He is thus enabled to show the rabbis in a different character from that usually assigned them, as possessors of a cheerful humanity delightful to con- template. The book is a capital companion for an hour's relaxation, and is also suited for reading purposes in schools and colleges. Cloth, 12mo, $1.35. In Beaver Cove and Elsewhere.— By Matt Cmm. This volume contains all of Miss Crim's most famous short stories. These stories have received the highest praise from eminent critics, and have given Miss Crim a position among the leading lady writers of America. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. Cloth, 8vo, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. " Her stories bear the stamp of genius." — St. Favl Globe. " A writer who lias quickly won recognition by short stories of exceptional power. — The Independent. " The true Crackers are of Northern Georgia, and Matt Crim is as much their delineator as is Miss Murfree the chronicler of the mountaineers of Tennessee." — New York Times. Adventures of a Fair Rebel.— By Matt Crim. This novel is the record of a deeply passionate nature, the interest in whose story is enhanced by her devotion to a lover, also a Southerner, compelled by his convictions to take service in the Northern army. Striking descrip- tions of the campaign in Georgia and the siege of At- lanta are given. With a frontispiece by Dan Beard. Cloth, 8vo, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. " It is a love storj^ of unusual sweetness, pathos, and can- dor." — Christian Union. "The style is simple and straightforward, with fine touches here and there. . . . The showing forth of the best aspects on both sides of the dreadful struggle is skilfully done, avoid- ing false sentimen' , and maintaining an almost judicial tone, which does not, however, lessen the interest of the story. "^ The Nation, Oharles L. Webster S Co. 3 Don Pinimondone: Calatarian Sketches. — By Elisabeth Cavazza. Though a native and resident of Portland, Me., and laelonging to an old New Eng- land family, Mrs. Cavazza early became interested in Italian matters. Few American authors have so com- pletely captured the Italian spirit as she has done in these pictures of Italian life among the lowly. ("Fic- tion, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Frontispiece by Dan Beard. Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " Racy of the Calabrian soil." — Cleveland FlaindeaXer. " The whole book has a pungent originality, very grateful to the jaded reader of commonplace romance." — Christian Union. " Mrs. Cavazza has made a great beginning in these stories, which will bear more than one reading, and which, as the work of a New England woman, are very remarkable. They are delightful, and they are mature." — Richard Henry Stod- dard in Mail and Express. The Master of Silence. A Bomance. — By Ibvins Bachbllbb. Headers of Mr. Bacheller's stories and poems in the magazines will look with interest for his first extended effort in fiction. ("Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " ' The Master of Silence ' is the first novel of Mr. Irving Bacheller, of the newspaper syndicate, and deals in a striking way with the faculty of mind-reading." — New York World. " A well-named story is already on the road to success. . . . Altogether the story is a strange character study, full of suggestion, earnest in moral purpose, and worthy of ab- tention."— Cmci'njiaii Enquirer. Mr. Billy Downs and His Likes. — By Richard Mal- colm Johnston, author of " Dukesborough Tales." Colonel Johnston has selected a number of his most characteristic stories, now first published in book form, for a volume of the new "Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series." Colonel Johnston is easily the dean of South- ern men of letters, and the announcement of a new volume from his pen calls for little comment. Frontis- piece by Dan Beard. Cloth, 13mo, 75 cents. " A collection of five entertaining short stories from our brilliant and very humorous Georgia friend, Richard Malcolm Johnston." — The Independent. Moonblight and Six Feet of Bomance. — By Dan Bbaed. In ' ' Moonblight " the artist-author has brought into play all those resources of humor, imagination and sarcasm, for which he is so well known, to teach under the guise of a romance the lesson of the wrongs in- 4 Popular Neiv Boohs flicted by capital on labor. In the light of recent events at the Homestead mills, this hook seems to have been prophetic. Illustrated by the author. Cloth, 8vo, $1.00 " A strange but powerful book." — Philadelphia Bulletin. *' He does not construct a Utopia like Bellamy; the reforms he proposes are sensible and would be profitable, if greedy capital could be induced to consider and try them." — Spring- field Republican. " It is a witty, gay, poetical book, full of bright things and true things, the seer donning a jester's garb to preach in; and one may be sure, under the shrug and the smile, of the keen dart aimed at pride, prejudice, self-seeking, injustice, and the praise for whatsoever is beautiful and good." — Hartford Courant. The American Claimant.— By Mark Twain. The most widely known character in American fictioh, Col. Mulberry Sellers, is again introduced to readers in an original and delightful romance, replete with Mark Twain's whimsical humor. Fully illustrated by Dan Beard. Cloth, 8vo, $1.50. The Prince and the Pauper. A Tale for Young People of All Ages. — By Mabk Twain. New popular edition of this "classic" of American Action. It is a charming romance of the life and times of Ed- ward VI., the boy king of England, and is considered by many to be Mark Twain's best work. Pronounced by high authorities one of the best child's stories ever written. Uniform with the cheap edition of " Huckle- berry Finn." Illustrated. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. (Tom Saw- yer's Comrade.) — By Mark Twain. New cheap edition of the laughable adventures of Huck Finn and a runaway slave in a raft journey along the Mississippi. Contains the famous description of a Southern feud. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Ivan the Fool, and Other Stories. — By Leo Tolstoi. Translated direct from the Russian by Count Norral- kow, with illustrations by the celebrated Russian artist, Gribayedoff. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. " The stories in this volume are wonderfully simple and pure." — Detroit Free Press. "As creations of fancy they take high rank." — Bosfore Transcript. " ' Ivan the Fool ' is one of the most interesting and sug- gestive of Tolstoi's fables, and the work of translation is ad- mirably performed." — Chicago Standard. Charles L. Webster & Go. 5 Life IS "Worth Living and Other Stories.— By Leo ToLBTOi. Translated direct from the Russian by Count Norraikow. This worli, unlike some of Ms later -writ- ings, shows the great writer at his best. The stories, while entertaining in themselves, are written for a pur- pose, and contain abundant food for reflection. Illus- trated. Cloth, ISmo, 11.00. Merry Tales.— By Mark Twain. This is the opening volume of the new "Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series. " Contains some of the author's favorite sketches, includ- ing his personal reminiscences of the war as given in " The Private History of a Campaign that Failed." "With portrait frontispiece. Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " Very readable and amusing tales they are." — New York Sun. " Thousands will welcome in permanent form these delicious bits of humor." — Boston Traveller. " Some of these stories are deep with pathos; others bubble over with humor. All of them are intensely interesting and readable from the opening sentence to the closing hne." — New Orleans States. Poetry. Selected Poems by Walt Whitman.— Chosen and edited by Arthur Stedman. Shortly before Mr. "Whit- man's death, the old poet for the first time consented to the publication of a selection from ' ' Leaves of Grass, " embracing his most popular short poems and represen- tative passages from his longer lyrical efforts. Ar- ranged for home and school use. "With a portrait of the author. ("Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " Mr. Stedman's choice is skilfully made." — The Nation. " The volume represents all that is best in Walt Whitman." — San Francisco Chronicle. " That in Walt Whitman which is virile and bardic, lyrically fresh and sweet, or epically grand and elemental, will be pre- served to the edification of young men and maidens, as well as of maturer folk." — Hartford Courant. Flower o' the "Vine: Bomantie Ballads and Sos- piri di Boma.— By "William Sharp, author of "A Fellowe and His Wife " (with Miss Howard), "Life and Letters of Joseph Severn," etc. "With an introduction 6 Popular Keiv Boohs by Thomas A. Janvier, and a portrait of the author. As one of the most popular of the younger English poets, equal success is anticipated for this first Ameri- can edition of Mr. Sharp's poems. Its welcome in the American press has been most hearty. Tastefully bound, with appropriate decorative design. Cloth, 8vo, $1.50. " This volume of verse, by Mr. William Sharp, has a music like that of the meeting of two winds, one blown down from the Northern seas, keen and salty, the other carrying on its wings the warm fragrance of Southern fields." — Tlie Literary World (Boston). " When Mr.^harp leaves the North with its wild stories of love and fighting and death, and carries us away with him in the ' Sospiri di Roma ' to the warmth and the splendor of the South, he equally shows the creative faculty. He is a true lover of Earth with her soothing touch and soft caress; he lies in her arms, he hears her whispered secret, and through the real discovers thespivituai."— Philadelphia Record. Travel, Biography, and Essays. Tenting on the Plains.— By Elizabeth B. Custbe, author of "Boots and Saddles," " Following the Gui- don," etc. New pppular edition. This book was orig- inally published in a very expensive form and sold only by subscription. Many people who have read and en- joyed "Boots and Saddles " were anxious to read Mrs. Custer's next book, but were in many cases deterred by the high price of the book. This new edition is now published to meet this demand. It contains all the il- lustrations of the more expensive edition, is printed from new plates, and has an attractive new cover. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Subscription edition, containing a biography of Gen- eral Custer, with selections from his correspondence, and a steel portrait. 8vo, $3.50 to $7.00, according to binding. The German Emperor and His Eastern Neigh- bors. — By PoDLTNEY BiGELOw. Mr. Bigelow was recently expelled from Russia as the author of this vol- ume. Interesting personal notes of his old playmate's boyhood and education are given, together with a de- scription of the Emperor's army, his course and policy since accession, and the condition of affairs on the Rus- sian and Roumanian frontiers. With fine portrait of Charles L. }Vebster & Co. 7 William II. ("Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 13mo, 75 cents. "An interesting contribution to evidence concerning Eus- sia." — Springfield Republican. "A much -needed correction to the avalanche of abuse heaped upon the German Emperor.^' — Philadelphia Inquirer. Paddles and Politics Down the Danube. — By PouLTNBY BiGBLOw. Companion volume to " Tlie German Emperor." A liighly interesting journal of a canoe-voyage down " the Mississippi of Europe " from its source to the Black Sea, with descriptions of the resident nations, and casual discussions of the political situation. Illustrated with numerous oil-hand sketches made on the spot by Mr. Bigelow. ("Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. "This is the most expressive boolc on the Danube and the modern Danube region that has yet been published." — Brook- lyn Times. Writings of Christopher Columbus.— Edited, with an introduction, by Paul Leicester Ford. Mr. Ford has for the first time collected in one handy volume translations of those letters, etc., of Columbus which describe his experiences in the discovery and occupation of the New World. With frontispiece portrait. ( ' ' Fic- tion, Pact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " Surely the most interesting of recent contributions to Columbian literature." — Boston Post. Under Summer Skies.— By Clinton Scollard. A poet's itinerary. Professor Scollard relates, in his charming literary style, the episodes of a rambling tour through Egypt, Palestine, Italy, and the Alps. The text is interspersed with poetical interludes, suggested by passing events and scenes. Coming nearer home, visits to Arizona and the Bermudas are described in separate chapters. The volume is attractively illus- trated by Margaret Landers Randolph, and is most suit- able as a traveling companion or as a picture of lands beyond the reach of the reader. Cloth, 8vo, $1.00. "These records of his wanderings are written in an engag- ing and unpretentious style; they abound in poetic descrip- tions of persons and localities, and here and there throughout the volume are delightful lyrics which lend an added grace to the prose."— 27ie Critic (New York). 8 Popular JVew Books Autobiographia. — By Walt Whitman. Edited by Arthur Stedman. The story of Whitman's life, told in his own words. These selected passages from Whit- man's prose works, chosen with his approbation, are so arranged as to give a consecutive account of the old poet's career in his own picturesque language. Uni- form with the new edition of Walt Whitman's " Se- lected Poems." ("Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 13mo, 75 cents. " Selections from the prose writings of Walt Whitman, that tell the story of his life in his own garrulous, homely, pictu- resque, off-hand, lovable way." — Hartford Courant. Life of Jane Welsli Carlyle.— By Mrs. Alexander Ireland. A remarkable biography of a wonderful woman, written and compiled by one in thorough sym- pathy with her subject, from material made public for the first time. The powerful side-light it throws upon the life and character of Thomas Carlyle will make the volume indispensable to all who venerate the genius, or are interested in the personality, of the Sage of Chelsea. Vellum, cloth (half bound), 8vo, $1.75. " A satisfactory and even valuable memoir." — Philadelphia Ledger. " We have seldom seen a more sympathetic and delightful biography." — New York Sun. Essays in Miniature. — By Agnes Repplier, author of " Points of View," etc. A new volume of this brilliant essayist's writings, in which she discourses wittily and wisely on a number of pertinent topics. No new essay- ist of recent years has been received with such hearty commendation in this country or England. (" Fiction, Fact, and Fancy Series.") Cloth, 12mo, 75 cents. " Culture and freshness are deftly mmgled in these brief and often breezy papers, in which one may search in vain for a dull" sentence."— r/te Book Buyer (New York). Books by Henry George. A Perplexed Philosopher, being an examination of Mr. Herbert Spencer's various utterances on the land question, with some incidental references to his Syn- thetic Philosophy. Cloth, 13mo, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. "Mr. George certainly has the courage of his convictions. . . , Many who do not care for single tax theories will find enjoyment in Mr. George's dialectics, and while the flght goes on there is plenty of fur flying, with which other philosophers may line their own nests." — The Churchman. Charles L. Webster <& Co. 9 Progress and Poverty. — A* inquiry into the cause of industrial depressions, and of increase of want with in- crease of wealth: the remedy. Thirteen years of criti- cism and controversy have failed to shake the position of this famous work, and the steady growth of its in- fluence is more and more justifying those who hailed it as the most important book of the century. Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. Social Problems. — "My endeavor has been to present the most momentous social problems of our time, unin- cumbered by technicalities, and without that abstract reasoning which some of the principles of Political Economy require for thorough explanation." — Extract from Author's Preface. Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. Protection or Free Trade.— An examination of the tariffl question with especial regard to the interests of labor. The most thorough and readable examination of the tariflf question ever made. The great influence this work is exerting is shown by the fact that besides its issues in other languages, no less than one million five hundred thousand copies have been issued in var- ious forms in English alone, between its first publication in 1886 and November, 1892. Cloth, $1.00. Paper, 50 cents. Works of Henry George. — A complete edition of the works of Henry George is now in preparation, com- prising the four volumes already on our list, together with two or three new volumes containing the remain- der of Mr. George's writings. Cloth, ISmo, $1.00each. Paper, 50 cents. fliscellaneous. Tariff Reform: The Paramount Issue.— Speeches and writings on this leading question of the day. By William M. Springek, Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means of the House of Representatives, Fifty-second Congress. With portraits of the author and others. This book is endorsed by Hon. Grover Cleveland, Hon. Adlai B. Stevenson, Hon. Calvin S. Brice, and Hon. John G. Carlisle. Cloth, library style, .$1.50. Paper, $1.00. 10 Popular New Books. The Art of Sketching.— Bt G, Fkaipont. Translated from the French by Clara Bell. With preface by- Edwin Bale, R. I. That this little book is from the hand of a French artist will make it none the less ac- ceptable to American students. Its references are most- ly French because its author is so, and it is unnecessary, as well as undesirable, to disturb these in order to adapt them to American readers. The treatise is main- ly intended for the use of artists in Black and White. It is short, but it is practical and good; and if Ameri- cans do not know the work of the French artists re- ferred to, it will be a useful experience for them to search it out. With fifty illustrations from drawings by the author. Cloth, 12mo, $1.00. Physical Beauty: How to Obtain and How to Preserve It. — By Annie Jbnnbss Miller. A prac- tical, sensible, helpful book that every woman should read, including chapters on Hygiene, Foods, Sleep, Bodily Expression, the Skin, the Eyes, the Teeth, the Hair, Dress, the Cultivation of Individuality, etc., etc. Fully illustrated, octavo, 300 pages. White Vellum, Gold and Silver Stamps, in Box, $3.00; Blue Vellum, $3.00. " Every woman will be a more perfect woman for reading it; more perfect in soul and body." — Philadelphia Inquirer. " Her arguments are sane, philosophical, and practical." — New York World. " Parents mav well place it in the hands of their young daughters." — Cincinnati Commercial-Gazette. The Speech of Monkeys. — By R. L. Gaknbr. Mr. Garner's articles, published in the leading periodicals and journals touching upon this subject, have been widely read and favorably commented upon by scientific men both here and abroad. " The Speech of Mon- keys '' embodies his researches up to the present time. It is divided into two parts, the first being a record of experiments with monkeys and other animals, and the second part a treatise on the theory of speech. The work is written so as to bring the subject within reach of the casual reader without impairing its scientific value. With portrait frontispiece. Cloth, small 8vo, $1.00.