"Praised be God!..." With what mixed feelings had Moses Freudenthal joined in this cry of thanksgiving on that Sabbath evening twenty-two years ago when he first entered the house of God a father! His heart bled and rejoiced at the same moment; he wept with mingled joy and sorrow, for a little daughter had indeed been born to him: but his wife's strength had been unable to withstand her sufferings, and she had died. She had borne her terrible agony with unmurmuring resignation; and even when dying a happy smile passed over her pale face whenever she heard the voice of her child. In those sad hours before the end the hearts of the husband and wife, that had remained strangers to each other during the long years of their married life, at length found each other out. He alone understood why his wife said, "Now I can die in peace;" she alone understood why he bent over her hand again and again, sobbing, "Forgive me, Rosele; forgive me!" "The child," she said; "take care of the child!" then she shivered and died. Next morning they carried her out to the "good place." And he rent his garments, took the shoes from off his feet, and sat on the floor of the chamber of death for seven days and seven nights, thus fulfilling the days of mourning after the manner of the children of Israel. He did not weep, but fixed his sad tearless eyes on the flame of the funeral light which has to burn for a whole week in order that the homeless spirit may have a resting-place on earth until God shows it where it is henceforth to dwell. "He is talking to the dead," whispered his relations in awe-struck tones, when they saw his lips move, as he murmured, "All might have been well now, and you are dead!" His sorrow found relief in tears when they brought him the child, and asked what it should be called. "Esther," he answered--"Esther, like my mother." He held his little daughter long in his arms, and his tears fell on her face. Then he gave the child back to her nurse, and from that moment became calm and composed. When the days of mourning were over he returned to his business, and worked harder than ever before. A new spirit seemed to possess him, and every day he embarked in new and daring undertakings. He ventured to do what no one else would attempt, and fortune remained true to him. He now carried out the wish he had long nourished--bought the piece of land opposite the Dominican monastery, and began to build a large house there. He passed his days in unceasing labor; but in the evening he would sit for hours at a time by his child's cradle, gazing at the soft baby face. And in the first months after his bereavement, the nurse was often startled by seeing him come noiselessly into the nursery in the middle of the night, and watch and listen long to see if all were well with the child.