"We will purify ourselves," the suffering people cried aloud in their agony. "We will seek the offender in our midst, and by his punishment we will atone, and save ourselves from the wrath of God...." And they purified themselves.... A tribunal was formed by the people--an awful court, which tried in secret, judged in secret, and punished in secret. It was stern and inexorable in the execution of its decrees, and no one could escape from it. It "vindicated God's holy name," and caused the hour of retribution to strike for many criminals who had evaded the laws. But with how much innocent blood had these fanatics stained their hands! Deeds were done in those dark days of madness and terror that chill the blood, and make the historian, who attempts to describe them, falter. The pestilence became more and more terrible. The few doctors that remained folded their hands. They could not alleviate the suffering of the people, far less could they save their lives. Men ceased to persecute each other for real or imaginary sins. The growing burden of misfortune took away their spirit, and made them faint-hearted. They even prayed no longer; a mediator had to pray for them. The intercessor they chose was the rabbi of Sadagora, a little town in Bukowina. This man was called the "wonder-worker," on account of all that he had done, or was supposed to have done, for the people. To him the Podolian Jews turned in their dire necessity, imploring him to save them, by beseeching God in his own name, a powerful name; for it was believed that from his race the Redeemer was to spring: and it was said that he had upon the palms of his hands the stamp of the royal line of David. This mark was the outline of a lion imprinted upon the skin, and it was a sign that his mission was from God. Money and precious gifts were collected, and were given to the rabbi to insure his intercession with God; even the poor gave all that they possessed. The disinterested rabbi promised to help the people. "You have all sinned against God," he said, "and you must all do penance." He made a calendar of the days of expiation, and the days of fasting and mortification were punctually kept. Fear of death insured the fulfillment of all his injunctions. It may sound incredible, but it is literally true, that during this time the whole Eastern Jewish population only ate and drank every second day. The result of this may be easily imagined. Their weakened frames were all the more liable to be smitten by the disease. The renown of the rabbi was at stake, and with it the profits of his calling. He adopted another expedient. "God is pleased," he said, "by an increase of His faithful people. Let each community choose a couple from its number, and marry them in the burial-ground--as a sacrifice to the angry God."