The Rabbi—
"On account of our Kings who have committed iniquity."
And the people answer—
"We sit alone and weep!"
"On account of our High Priests who have done wickedly."
"We sit alone and weep!"
"On account of our Prophets who have seen false visions."
"We sit alone and weep!"
"On account of our precious stones which are burned."
"We sit alone and weep!"
Rabbi—
"Let shine thy government upon Zion."
People—
"And build thou the walls of Jerusalem."
Rabbi—
"Have mercy upon Zion."
People—
"A branch shall spring forth at Jerusalem!"
A lady brought Mr. Wolff to call upon me, he being anxious to see my collection of Hindoo idols. On his arrival, he introduced himself in these words:—"I am of the tribe of Benjamin, and Benjamin was a ravening wolf,—and so, they call me Wolff!"
On Sunday he preached, or rather gave us a homily, which was sufficiently startling for even us Indians. What you sober people in England would think of it, I know not. We dined at Mr. F's house, and met Mr. Wolff. After dinner, he was very anxious all the ladies should write their names in his Bible, which is seldom out of his hands, and was in such a state I did not like to touch it. Should he visit Hampshire, he will give lectures: they are worth hearing. Perhaps he will repeat the story of the mother of St. Augustine. All that I recollect of it is, the mother, weeping bitterly, spoke to some holy man respecting her son, whose conduct gave her pain. He answered, "The child of a mother of so many tears cannot be lost." This child was afterwards St. Augustine. It is very beautiful, "The child of a mother of so many tears cannot be lost!"
