"But it may be that a man commits a conscious error through his affections, and if that error inflicts injury upon no living being--if it even confer a benefit upon one or more--there may be some palliation of his error. In stating that you set for me a standard too high I am stating my firm belief. No man is stainless, no man is without reproach; the doctrine of infallibility applied to human affairs is monstrous and wicked; it is an arrogation of divine power. I am, as all men are, open to error; in my life, as in the lives of all men, there have been mistakes, but I may still take the credit to myself that if I have committed a conscious error it has harmed no living soul, and that it has sprung from those affections which sweeten and bless our lives. A reference has been made to my being a Jew. I glory that I am one. The traditions and history of the race to which I am proud to belong have been of invaluable service to me, and to the circumstance of my being a Jew I owe the incidents of this day, which will ever be a proud memory to me and to my family. In the name of my dear wife and my own I thank you cordially, sincerely, and gratefully for the honor you have paid to us--an honor not beyond my wife's merits, but far beyond my own." Other speeches followed, and when the proceedings were at an end Dr. Spenlove asked Mr. Moss to introduce him to Mr. Cohen. "Cohen," said Mr. Moss, "Dr. Spenlove wishes to know you." Aaron started. He never forgot a name or a face, and he recollected the mention of Dr. Spenlove's name when Mr. Moss came to him in Gosport with the child. "Without exactly knowing it, perhaps," said Dr. Spenlove, "you have been most kind in movements in which I have taken an interest. I am glad of the opportunity of making your acquaintance." Nothing more; no reference to the private matter. Aaron breathed more freely. He responded to Dr. Spenlove's advances, and the gentlemen parted friends. Rose Moss was in the room during the proceedings, and her fair young face beamed with pride; it was her lover's father who was thus honored, and she felt that she had, through Aaron Cohen's son, a share in that honor. When the gratifying but fatiguing labors of the day were at an end, and Aaron, Rachel, and Rose were alone, Rachel said: "I am sorry, dear Rose, that Joseph was not here to hear what was said about his father." "It would not have made him love and honor him more," said Rose. Rachel pressed her hand and kissed her; she had grown to love this sweet and simple girl, who seemed to have but one thought in life, her lover. Then the sightless woman asked them to describe the picture to her, and she listened in an ecstasy of happiness to their words. "Is it not wonderful?" she said to Aaron. "A famous picture, they said, and I the principal figure. What can the painter have seen in me?" "What all men see, my life," replied Aaron, "but what no one knows as I know."