ly from the audience-chamber.
Perfection, indeed! Here was a teacher of humility who sat throned amid
tapestries, a preacher of righteousness who, when he feigned to be
absorbed in God, was wallowing in his carriage! Yea, these Rabbis of
the Chassidim were whitewashed sepulchres; and, as the orthodox
communities did not fail of such, it seemed a waste of energy to go out
of the fold in search of more. All that I had heard against the sect on
my route swept back into my mind, and I divided its members into rogues
and dupes. And in this bitter mood a dozen little threads flew together
and knitted themselves into a web of wickedness. I told myself that the
hamlet must be full of Baer's spies, and that my host himself had
cunningly extracted from me the facts of my history; and as for the
restored jewels, I felt sure his own men had stolen them. I slung my
knapsack across my shoulder and started for home.

But I had not made many hundred yards when my mood softened. I
remembered the wonderful sermon, with its manipulation of texts Rabbi
Baer could not have foreseen, and bethought myself that he was indeed
a Prince in Israel, and that King David and Solomon the Wise had not
failed to live in due magnificence. "And after all," mused I, "'tis
innocent enough to drive by the river-side. Who knows but even thus is
his absorption in God accomplished? Do not they who smoke this
tobacco aver that it soothes and purifies the soul?"

Besides, who but a fool, I reflected further, would slink back to his
starting-point, his goal unvisited? I had seen the glory of the
disciple, let me gaze upon the glory of the Master, and upon the
purple splendors of his court.

And so I struck out again for Miedziboz, though by a side-path, so as
to avoid the village of Baer.

VI

It was April ere I began to draw near my destination. The roads were
still muddy and marshy; but in that happy interval between the winter
gray and the summer haze the breath of spring made the world
beautiful. The Stri river sparkled, even the ruined castles looked
gay, while the pleasure-grounds of the lords of the soil filled the
air with sweet scents. One day, as I was approaching a village up a
somewhat steep road, a little gray-haired man driving a wagon holding
some sacks of flour passed me, whistling cheerfully. We gave each
other the "Peace" salutation, knowing ourselves brother Jews, if only
by our furred caps and ear-curls. Presently, in pity of his beast,