rning, and complained that
his defection to the sect had greatly strengthened and drawn grave
disciples to this ignorant movement. For, according to them, the Baal
Shem was as unlettered as he gave himself out to be, nor did they
credit the story of his followers that all his apparent ignorance was
due to his celestial oath not to reveal himself till his thirty-sixth
year. As for the followers, they were esteemed simply a set of lewd,
dancing fanatics; and, of a truth, a prayer-service I succeeded in
witnessing in one town considerably chilled my hopes. For the
worshippers shouted, beat their breasts, struck their heads against
the wall, tugged at their ear-curls, leaped aloft with wild yells and
even foamed at the mouth, nor could I see any sublime idea behind
these maniacal manifestations. They had their own special Zaddik
(Saint) here, whom they vaunted as even greater than Baer.

"He talks with angels," one told me.

"How know you that?" I said sceptically.

"He himself admits it."

"But suppose he lies!"

"What! A man who talks with angels be capable of a lie!"

I did not pause to point out to him that this reasoning violated even
Talmudical logic, for I feared if I received the doctrine from such
mouths I should lose all my enthusiasm ere reaching the fountain-head,
and hereafter in my journeyings I avoided hunting out the members of
the sect, even as I strove to dismiss from my mind the malicious
inuendoes and denunciations of their opponents, who said it was not
without reason this sect had arisen in a country where only the eldest
son in a Jewish family was allowed by the State to marry. I would keep
my mind clear and free from prepossessions on either side. And thus at
last, after many weary days and adventures which it boots not to
recall here, such as the proposals of marriage made to me by some of
my hosts--and they householders in Israel, albeit unillumined--I
arrived at the goal of the first stage of my journey, the village of
Mizricz.

I scarcely stayed to refresh myself after my journey, but hastened
immediately to Rabbi Baer's house, which rose regal and lofty on a
wooded eminence overlooking the river as it foamed through the
mountain gullies on its way to the Dnieper. I crossed the broad
pine-bridge without a second glance at the rushing water, but to my
acute disappointment when I reached the great house I was not
admitted. I was told that the Saint could not be seen of mortal eye
till the