her case every trick of dialectics and flattery at his command. All
in vain. The greatest successes of which he could boast were her promise
to read the New Testament, and her consent to his praying for her
conversion. Sara's arguments in favor of Judaism arouse the reader's
admiration for the sharpness of intellect displayed, her poetic genius,
and her intimate acquaintance with Jewish sources as well as philosophic
systems.

Ansaldo never abandoned the hope of gaining her over to Christianity.
Unable to convince her reason, he attacked her heart. Though evincing
singular love and veneration for her old admirer, Sara could not be
moved from steadfast adherence to her faith. She sent him her picture
with the words: "This is the picture of one who carries yours deeply
graven on her heart, and, with finger pointing to her bosom, tells the
world: 'Here dwells my idol, bow before him.'"

With old age creeping upon him with its palsy touch, he continued to
think of nothing but Sara's conversion, and assailed her in prose and
verse. One of his imploring letters closes thus:

"Life's fair, bright morn bathes thee in light,
Thy cheeks are softly flushed with youthful zest.
For me the night sets in; my limbs
Are cold, but ardent love glows in my breast."

Sara having compared his poems with those of Amphion and Orpheus, he
answered her:

"To Amphion the stones lent ear
When soft he touched his lute;
And beasts came trooping nigh to hear
When Orpheus played his flute.

How long, O Sara, wilt thou liken me
To those great singers of the olden days?
My God and faith I sought to give to thee,
In vain I proved the error of thy ways.
Their song had charms more potent than my own,
Or art thou harder than a beast or stone?"

The query long remained unanswered, for just then the poetess was
harassed by many trials. Serious illness prostrated her, then her
beloved father died, and finally she was unjustly charged by the envious
among her co-religionists with neglect of Jewish observances, and denial
of the divine origin of the Law. She found no difficulty in refuting the
malicious accusation, but she was stung to the quick by the calumnious
attack, the pain it inflicted vanishing only in the presence of a grave
danger. Balthasar Bonifacio, an obscure author, in a brochure published
for that purpose, accused her of rejecting the doctrine of the
immortality of t