Children of the Ghetto

Even the callous Levi felt the breath of sanctity in the air and had a vague restful sense of his Sabbath Angel hovering about and causing him to cast two shadows on the wall while his Evil Angel shivered impotent on the door-step.

Then Reb Shemuel repeated three times a series of sentences commencing: 'Peace be unto you, ye ministering Angels,' and thereupon the wonderful picture of an ideal woman from Proverbs, looking affectionately at Simcha the while. 'A woman of worth, whoso findeth her, her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband trusteth in her; good and not evil will she do him all the days of her life; she riseth, while it is yet night, giveth food to her household and a task to her maidens. She putteth her own hands to the spindle; she stretcheth out her hand to the poor-strength and honor are her clothing and she looketh forth smilingly to the morrow; she openeth her mouth with wisdom and the law of kindness is on her tongue-she looketh well to the ways of her household and eateth not the bread of idleness. Deceitful is favor and vain is beauty, but the woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.'

Then, washing his hands with the due benediction, he filled the goblet with wine, and while every one reverently stood he 'made Kiddish,' in a traditional joyous recitative '... blessed art thou, O Lord, our God! King of the Universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine, who doth sanctify us with His commandments and hath delight in us.... Thou hast chosen and sanctified us above all peoples and with love and favor hast made us to inherit Thy holy Sabbath....'

And all the household, and the hungry Pole, answered 'Amen,' each sipping of the cup in due gradation, then eating a special morsel of bread cut by the father and dipped in salt; after which the good wife served the fish, and cups and saucers clattered and knives and forks rattled. And after a few mouthfuls, the Pole knew himself a Prince in Israel and felt he must forthwith make choice of a maiden to grace his royal Sabbath board. Soup followed the fish; it was not served direct from the saucepan but transferred by way of a large tureen; since any creeping thing that might have got into the soup would have rendered the plateful in which it appeared not legally potable, whereas if it were detected in the large tureen, its polluting powers would be dissipated by being diffused over such a large mass of fluid. For like religious reasons, another feature of the etiquette of the modern fashionable table had been anticipated by many centuries-the eaters washed their hands in a little bowl of water after their meal. The Pollack was thus kept by main religious force in touch with a liquid with which he had no external sympathy.

When supper was over, grace was chanted and then the Zemiroth was sung-songs summing up in light and jingling metre the very essence of holy joyousness-neither riotous nor ascetic-the note of spiritualized common sense which has been the key-note of historical Judaism. For to feel 'the delight of Sabbath' is a duty and to take three meals thereon a religions obligation-the sanctification of the sensuous by a creed to which everything is holy. The Sabbath is the hub of the Jew's universe; to protract it is a virtue, to love it a liberal education. It cancels all mourning-even for Jerusalem. The candles may gutter out at their own greasy will- unsnuffed, untended-is not Sabbath its own self-sufficient light?

This is the sanctified rest-day;

Happy the man who observes it,

Thinks of it over the wine-cup,

Feeling no pang at his heart-strings

For that his purse-strings are empty,

Joyous, and if he must borrow

God will repay the good lender,

Meat, wine and fish in profusion-

See no delight is deficient.

Let but the table be spread well,

Angels of God answer 'Amen!'

So when a soul is in dolor,

Cometh the sweet restful Sabbath,

Singing and joy in its footsteps,

Rapidly floweth Sambatyon,

Till that, of God's love the symbol,

Sabbath, the holy, the peaceful,

Husheth its turbulent waters.

* * * * *

Bless Him, O constant companions,

Rock from whose stores we have eaten,

Eaten have we and have left, too,

Just as the Lord hath commanded

Father and Shepherd and Feeder.

His is the bread we have eaten,

His is the wine we have drunken,

Wherefore with lips let us praise Him,

Lord of the land of our fathers,

Gratefully, ceaselessly chaunting

'None like Jehovah is holy.'

* * * * *

Light and rejoicing to Israel,

Sabbath, the soother of sorrows,

Comfort of down-trodden Israel,

Healing the hearts that were broken!

Banish despair! Here is Hope come,

What! A soul crushed! Lo a stranger

Bringeth the balsamous Sabbath.

Build, O rebuild thou, Thy Temple,

Fill again Zion, Thy city,

Clad with delight will we go there,

Other and new songs to sing there,

Merciful One and All-Holy,

Praised for ever and ever.

During the meal the Pollack began to speak with his host about the persecution in the land whence he had come, the bright spot in his picture being the fidelity of his brethren under trial, only a minority deserting and those already tainted with Epicureanism-students wishful of University distinction and such like. Orthodox Jews are rather surprised when men of (secular) education remain in the fold.

Hannah took advantage of a pause in their conversation to say in German:

'I am so glad, father, thou didst not bring that man home.'

'What man?' said Reb Shemuel.

'The dirty monkey-faced little man who talks so much.'

The Reb considered.

'I know none such.'

'Pinchas she means,' said her mother. 'The poet!'

Reb Shemuel looked at her gravely. This did not sound promising.

'Why dost thou speak so harshly of thy fellow-creatures?' he said. 'The man is a scholar and a poet, such as we have too few in Israel.'

'We have too many Schnorrers in Israel already,' retorted Hannah.

'Sh!' whispered Reb Shemuel reddening and indicating his guest with a slight movement of the eye.

Hannah bit her lip in self-humiliation and hastened to load the lucky Pole's plate with an extra piece of fish.

'He has written me a letter,' she went on.

'He has told me so,' he answered. 'He loves thee with a great love.'

'What nonsense, Shemuel!' broke in Simcha, setting down her coffee-cup with work-a-day violence. 'The