He received me with much respect; and when I made known to him my birthplace and family in Poland, he began to lament and wring his hands. "Alas!" said he, "you are the son of the famous Rabbi Joshua? I know your father well; he is a pious and learned man. You also are not unknown to me; I have examined you as a boy several times, and formed high expectations of you. Oh! is it possible that you have altered so?" (Here he pointed to my shaven beard). To this I replied, that I also had the honour of knowing him, and that I still remembered his examinations well. My conduct hitherto, I told him, was as little opposed to religion properly understood, as it was to reason. "But," he interrupted "you do not wear a beard, you do not go to the synagogue: is that not contrary to religion?" "No!" I replied, and I proved to him from the Talmud that, under the circumstances in which I was placed, all this was allowed. On this point we entered into a lengthy dispute, in which each maintained his right. As he could effect nothing with me by such disputation, he adopted the style of mere sermonising; but when this also was of no avail, he began to cry aloud, "_Shophar! Shophar!_" This is the name of the horn which is blown on New-Year's day as a summons to repentance, and at which it is supposed that Satan is horribly afraid. While the chief rabbi called out the word, he pointed to a _Shophar_ that lay before him on the table, and asked me, "Do you know what that is?" I replied quite boldly, "Oh yes! it is a ram's horn." At these words the chief rabbi fell back upon his chair, and began to lament over my lost soul. I left him to lament as long as he liked, and bade him goodbye.