ley, _this_ world and the next were all mixed up together in
his mind, and the words of the prayers skipped about like black patches
before his eyes. He wanted to say he was sorry, to cry, but he only made
curious grimaces, and could not squeeze out so much as a single tear.

Berel was very dissatisfied with himself. He finished the Morning
Prayer, stood through the Additional Service, and proceeded to devour
the long Piyyutim.

The question, What is to be done? left him no peace, and he was really
reciting the Piyyutim to try and stupefy himself, to dull his brain.

So it went on till U-Nesanneh Toikef.

The congregation began to prepare for U-Nesanneh Toikef, coughed, to
clear their throats, and pulled the Tallesim over their heads. The
cantor sat down for a minute to rest, and unbuttoned his shroud. His
face was pale and perspiring, and his eyes betrayed a great weariness.
From the women's gallery came a sound of weeping and wailing.

Berel had drawn his Tallis over his head, and started reciting with
earnestness and enthusiasm:

"We will express the mighty holiness of this Day,
For it is tremendous and awful!
On which Thy kingdom is exalted,
And Thy throne established in grace;
Whereupon Thou art seated in truth.
Verily, it is Thou who art judge and arbitrator,
Who knowest all, and art witness, writer, sigillator,
recorder and teller;
And Thou recallest all forgotten things,
And openest the Book of Remembrance, and the book reads itself,
And every man's handwriting is there...."

These words opened the source of Berel's tears, and he sobbed
unaffectedly. Every sentence cut him to the heart, like a sharp knife,
and especially the passage:

"And Thou recallest all forgotten things, and openest the Book of
Remembrance, and the book reads itself, and every man's handwriting is
there...." At that very moment the Book of Remembrance was lying open
before the Lord of the Universe, with the handwritings of all men. It
contains his own as well, the one which he wrote with his own hand that
day when he took away the hundred-ruble-note. He pictures how his soul
flew up to Heaven while he slept, and entered everything in the eternal
book, and now the letters stood before the Throne of Glory, and cried,
"Berel is a thief, Berel is a robber!" And he has the impudence to stand
and pray before God? He, the offender, the transgressor--and the Shool
does not fall upon his head