Deep emotion took hold of the company. They all looked from the old man to the child,--who was staring about him with wide-open eyes and with unsuspecting curiosity,--and then again from the child to the old man. All sorts of questions and ideas crowded into the minds of the guests. The old Judaism and the new,--how would they exist together? Peacefully and quietly as in this hour? And would youth listen devoutly when age taught the lessons from the history of the race? Would the young people of the future gather about the patriarchs? Would they leave the busy life, the gay bustle of existence, its struggles, and its duties in search of consecration and peace? Such a miracle was happening in this simple Jewish home. In a spirit of reverence they followed the recital of the Haggadah, as the patriarch intoned in a feeble but impressive voice, the queer, outlandish, Talmudic, and casuistic interpretations of the festival. And when, with trembling hands, he filled the tall silver beaker with the wine destined for the prophet Elijah, he rose in his chair, and with the expression of religious faith imprinted upon his aged features, exclaimed, _Leshonoh habooh bi-Yerusholoyim_, a spirit of awe descended upon the company. No one seemed able for the moment to throw off the inspiring impression, not even those who failed to share the hopes expressed in the prayer. Hugo Benas was most deeply affected. "So it must be," he whispered to his mother, who sat next to him. "Though worlds apart in their views, in standards of life, in position, in culture, they are united by ties of race. And wherever Jews live in this way, a spiritual Zion will arise, as here, in this humble abode." * * * * * The assembled relatives had drawn close together during these holidays. Points of contact had appeared, the old bonds had been renewed, new ones had been formed; and with complacency they told one another of the many members of the family who had attained high positions in civil life. Honor was paid to those who had kept the religious traditions uncontaminated. Undisturbed harmony reigned, and not even Victor Weilen formed a discordant element. Curiously enough, one of the Pinsker kin, who knew nothing of Victor's apostasy (for the subject had not been referred to), was most attracted to him; and Victor questioned the pious and intelligent man about the condition of the Jews in Russia. It was of interest to him to hear how the old orthodoxy had been preserved there, and had become a factor in politics, in which, despite their religious segregation, the Jews were necessarily involved. Mr. Benas, however, could not resist a good-humored yet slightly satirical remark, when he repeatedly saw these two men together. "Under the shelter of the Patriarch, the orthodox and the apostate come together," he said to Hugo, who responded: "That is Zion."