e bitter rind and ate the luscious fruit. I wished to teach you as
Rabbi Meir taught the man who ate the pomegranate. I wished for you
the gift of discernment, for the books of your faith. Wished that you
might use your intelligence as a sieve in order to separate the grain
from the chaff, the diamonds from the sand; so that you may keep the
pure grain and the diamonds."

"You have thrust me off for this my request; your hearts became
hardened against me because of the fear and hatred towards things
new. And yet it is written: 'Do not look at the vessel, but look at
its contents.' There are new pitchers full of old wine, and old ones
that are empty."

"Meir," whispered Ber, "look at the people!" and then he added in a
still lower voice: "Depart from this place as quickly as you can."

Meir looked around at the seething, muttering crowd; a smile
half-angry, half-sad came on his lips.

"I did not expect this; I expected something quite different," he
said in a low voice, and he bent his head; but he raised it again
almost instantly and called out:

"I am the messenger of my ancestor. He has chosen me to read his
thoughts to you. I must obey him."

He drew a deep breath, then added in a still louder voice:

"He penetrated the doubts which were to arise in those who were not
born, and gave an answer to them. He penetrated into the inner life
of the human soul, which thirsts after truth and knowledge, and
offers you freedom and happiness through my mouth. I love him as if
he had given me life. I bow down before the greatness of the man who
has worked out his own immortality and dwells now in Jehovah's glory.
I think as he thought; I wish for you as he wished. I am like him; I
am the child of his spirit." His clear voice shook with emotion, and
smiles and unshed tears were together on his mobile features.

"My ancestor says to you that all nations are moving on towards
knowledge and happiness; but our heads are so full of little things
that there is not room for great thoughts; that the study they call
Kabala, and which you consider, is a cursed science, for it kills the
Israelite's intellect and leads him away from true science."

His voice became drowned in the general uproar, laughter and
groaning, so that only broken sentences reached the small,
inattentive audience. Yet he did not cease speaking, but went on
quicker and quicker, with heaving breast. It almost seemed as if
recognising the futility of his effort