of his torn talar around her shoulders. "Let me take you back to the house of your mother's brother; but I will not cross his threshold again. I made that vow the day he was seduced into wedding the artful Christian girl. On this day has my third son closed his door against me, and I have no more daughters on this earth. But yes, I have you still—you, the daughter of my dear and excellent Rachel! Come, let me take you home. It is hard enough upon you to be an orphan—fatherless and motherless—and a servant to your Christian aunt; you shall not become houseless for my sake. Poor Benjamina!" he exclaimed, as a bright beam from the moon, that was unclouded for a minute, enabled him to see her lovely youthful face distinctly, and to observe how tears were gathering in her long dark eyelashes. "Poor Beniamina! you are in- deed kind to care so much for your rough old grandfather, and not to be afraid to come and wander about with him, in our day of persecution, when he was thrust out alone among our foes!"
"Ah, dear good grandfather!" replied Benjamina, "how could my uncle Samuel behave so ill to you! But all my uncles are not so bad as he is. I am tolerably comfortable at uncle Daniel's every other week, and they are kind to me now at uncle Isaac's, since I have grown stronger, and am able to assist my aunt in the kitchen. Do go with me to one of them. Their wives and new connexions do not hate us as the other Christians do; and you must go somewhere. Since uncle Samuel has become so rich, he disdains all his poorer relations, and will not associate with them. Why did yon choose to live with him, rather than with either of your other sons? I am sure neither of them could have found it in his heart to have treated you as Samuel has done to-day. You never took a vow not to enter Isaac's house, therefore do go with me to it. I shall reside there with you, and attend upon you; and the pretty children will become fond of you. They can learn from you the history of Joseph and his brethren, and hear about little Benjamin, my namesake. You can teach them as you taught me at my poor mother's, when I was a little girl. Come^ dear grandfather, come!—before day dawn, and our persecutors awake. In these times of tribulation we must cherish each other—we unfortunate and persecuted fugitives."
"It is five years since I have entered my son Isaac's house," said the old man, slowly. "How many children has he now?"
"Ah, you do not know that, dear grandfather, and yet he is your own son! His fifth boy is an infant in its cradle."
"Is his Christian wife kind to him? and does she not turn his feeble spirit from Jehovah, and the faith and the customs of our forefathers? I have not seen him lately at the synagogue, but he never misses going to the Exchange."
"Only come with me to him, grandfather, and you will see that he is better than Samuel, though he may not go to the synagogue, and only puts the shop-door on the latch on Saturday, instead of shutting it up. You will like his nice little boys, though my aunt rather spoils the eldest. They have all light hair and pretty blue eyes, like their mother. Many Christians visit vie house ; and the good Mr. Veit, who is a painter, sometimes teaches me to draw when I am there. You do not hate all Christians, do you, grandfather, because some of them treat us cruelly? You do not condemn them all so much as these—our uncharitable persecutors?"
