“Small sins beget larger ones. It's better not to commit even peccadillos,” said the rabbi. “And eating _trepha_ food isn't merely a peccadillo. However, you're of full age. It's not my place to call you to account.” “Speaking of sins, Uncle Felix,” Elias presently went on, “tell me, what is the worst sin that a Jew could commit?” The rabbi's eyes had strayed back to his manuscript. Lifting them, “How?” he queried. Elias repeated his question. “Why,” said the rabbi, “there are the ten commandments, which you know as well as I do. They're of equal force. Theft, adultery, murder--one is as bad as another.” “That isn't exactly what I meant. I meant the worst sin which a Jew, as a Jew, could commit--the worst infraction of the Thorah as it applies peculiarly to Israel. The ten commandments embody the common law of morality, which is as binding upon Christians as it is upon Jews.” “Oh,” said the rabbi, “that's another question.” “Would it be, for example, the desecration of Yom Kippur?” “The desecration of Yom Kippur would be a deadly sin; so would the desecration of the Sabbath; so would disobedience to parental authority. But the most deadly of all, in my opinion, would be a forbidden marriage.” “That is, marriage with a Christian?” “Yes--with a Gentile, a Goy--with any one not of our own race.” “That, you think, is the one sin which would be most unpardonable in the sight of the Lord? For which He would inflict the severest punishment?” “Yes, I think so. And it's rather odd that we should speak of this just now, for at the moment when you came in I was reading a sermon on the very subject--a sermon written by your own greatgrandfather, the Reverend Abraham Bacharach, of New Orleans, the first of your family who came to America. I was reading a sermon that he preached at the excommunication of a young man of his congregation, who had married a Frenchwoman, a Catholic. Here it is.” The rabbi pointed to the manuscript that lay upon his table. “Indeed?” questioned Elias. “What does he say?” “Oh, he agrees with me, that it is absolutely the most deadly of sins. He denounces it with a good deal of energy. There's one paragraph here somewhere that struck me as especially fine. Would you like to hear it?” “Yes, I shouldn't mind,” Elias assented. The rabbi picked up the manuscript and began to run over the pages, searching for the place. “Ah, I've got it,” he said at last. “It comes just after a statement of the circumstances, as a sort of summing up. It's in German. Shall I read the original or translate?” “Translate, if you will.” The rabbi cleared his throat, brought the manuscript close to his eyes, knitted his brows and proceeded thus: