e that I
should ask his forgiveness for all this suffering and uncharitableness,
of which, because of what we had done to him, and of what our ancestors
had done to his, we were to-day guilty. Those who style themselves
believers in the religion of love, would be much astonished at the
strength of this man's affections, who, though repulsed and scorned;
still preserved them pure. We live a whole human life and know nothing
of the inward emotions of many of our contemporaries. Offenheimer spoke
with great severity concerning the attempt to obtain recognition by
means of extravagant display, that caused many Jews to appear
unpatriotic and presumptuous. He explained this, indeed, as arising
from the necessity, imposed by the prejudice against his race, of
proving its claim to respectability, and was frank enough to refer to
the early conduct of his sister as an example.

Offenheimer then told me how happy it had made him to find his son
growing up in comparative ignorance of such persecutions--he had thus
developed naturally. He smiled sadly, as he added that he, though he
had grown physically larger and more active, had acquired a lightness
of heart which the man who is obliged to win his freedom before
enjoying it, never acquires.

"I do not mourn for my son," were his words: "he had reached the most
beautiful period of life, and it is all the same, whether a man lives
seventeen years or seventy. No man liveth to himself, and no one dieth
to himself, says the apostle; and that is true. I understand it to be
true in another sense as well. Each of us dies only to his connections
and his posterity."

It was a novelty to me to hear Holy Writ referred to as simply the
teachings of wisdom. I have since then often found educated Israelites
are not so much Jews, as simply not Christians.

Offenheimer thanked me with great tenderness for the wonders that we
had accomplished with Annette. She had been proud and selfish; now she
had become humble, and lived for others.

As I sat with him, the Rabbi of the place came and expressed his thanks
for the generous subscription that had been made in memory of the
fallen.

One word, which the priest then uttered, went straight to my heart. He
said the bereaved father would find consolation; for the Talmud
declared that the patriarch Jacob could not suppress his sufferings and
his tears for his lost son Joseph, because he felt within himself that
his son still lived. Grief for one wh