As the last-mentioned personage, Rabbi Yoshua, entered paradise "not by the door," but some "other way," it may be interesting to not a few to know how he succeeded, and here accordingly we append the story of the feat. As Rabbi Yoshua's earthly career drew to a close, the angel of death was instructed to wait upon him, and at the same time show all respect for his wishes. The Rabbi, remarking the courteous demeanor of his visitant, requested him, before he despatched him, to favor him with a glimpse of the place he was to occupy in paradise above, and meantime commit to him his sword, as a gage that he would grant his petition and not take advantage of him on the journey. This request being granted and the sword delivered up, the Rabbi and his attendant took the road, pacing along till they halted together just outside the gates of the celestial city. Here the angel assisted the Rabbi to climb the wall, and proceeded to point out the place he would occupy some day in the future, when deftly throwing himself over, he left the angel standing outside and holding him fast by the skirt of his garment. When pressed to return, he swore he would not go back, protesting that, as he had never sought to be relieved of the obligation of his oath on earth, he would not be cajoled or coerced into an act of perjury within the precincts of heaven. He declined at first to give up the sword of the angel, and would have stood to his point but for the echo of a voice which peremptorily ordered its immediate restoration. (See _Kethuboth_ fol. 77, col. 2.) Where is it taught that when ten join together in prayer the Shechinah is with them? In Ps. lxxxii. 4, where it is said, "God standeth in the congregation of the mighty." _Berachoth_, fol. 6, col. 1. According to Rabbinic law, it takes at least ten men to constitute a legally convened congregation. Nearly a thousand pounds were expended every year by the synagogues of the metropolis to hire (minyan) men to make up the congregational number, and thus ensure the due observance of this regulation. When the Holy One--blessed be He!--enters the synagogue, and does not find ten men present, His anger is immediately stirred; as it is said (Isa. i. 2), "Wherefore, when I came, was there no man? When I called, there was none to answer?" Ibid., fol. 6, col. 2. The passion of anger here ascribed to God is by not a few regarded as an attribute wholly alien to the proper nature of the Deity. Such, however, is evidently not the judgment of the Talmudists. Nor is this surprising when we see elsewhere how boldly they conceive and how freely they speak of the Divine Majesty. The Rabbis are not in general a shamefaced generation, and are all too prone to deal familiarly with the most sacred realities. The excerpts which follow amply justify this judgment.