to look for evidence?  Here was seen the want of gentlemen.  Gentlemen, had they been even equally tyrannical, would have recoiled with shame from taking vengeance on a woman.  And what a vengeance!  O heavenly powers! that I should live to mention such a thing!  Man that is born of woman, to inflict upon woman personal scourging on the bare back, and through the streets at noonday!  Even for Christian women the punishment was severe which the laws assigned to the offense in question.  But for Jewesses, by one of the ancient laws against that persecuted people, far heavier and more degrading punishments were annexed to almost every offense.  What else could be looked for in a city which welcomed its Jewish guests by valuing them at its gates as brute beasts?  Sentence was passed, and the punishment was to be inflicted on two separate days, with an interval between each—­ doubtless to prolong the tortures of mind, but under a vile pretense of alleviating the physical torture.  Three days after would come the first day of punishment.  My mother spent the time in reading her native Scriptures; she spent it in prayer and in musing; while her daughters clung and wept around her day and night—­groveling on the ground at the feet of any people in authority that entered their mother’s cell.  That same interval—­ how was it passed by me?  Now mark, my friend.  Every man in office, or that could be presumed to bear the slightest influence, every wife, mother, sister, daughter of such men, I besieged morning, noon, and night.  I wearied them with my supplications.  I humbled myself to the dust; I, the haughtiest of God’s creatures, knelt and prayed to them for the sake of my mother.  I besought them that I might undergo the punishment ten times over in her stead.  And once or twice I did obtain the encouragement of a few natural tears—­given more, however, as I was told, to my piety than to my mother’s deserts.  But rarely was I heard out with patience; and from some houses repelled with personal indignities.  The day came:  I saw my mother half undressed by the base officials; I heard the prison gates expand; I heard the trumpets of the magistracy sound.  She had warned me what to do; I had warned myself.  Would I sacrifice a retribution sacred and comprehensive, for the momentary triumph over an individual?  If not, let me forbear to look out of doors; for I felt that in the selfsame moment in which I saw the dog of an executioner raise his accursed hand against my mother, swifter than the lightning would my dagger search his heart.  When I heard the roar of the cruel mob, I paused—­endured—­forbore.  I stole out by by-lanes of the city from my poor exhausted sisters, whom I left sleeping in each other’s innocent arms, into the forest.  There I listened to the shouting populace; there even I fancied that I could trace my poor mother’s route by the course of the triumphant cries.  There, even then, even then, I made—­O silent forest! thou heardst me when I made—­a vow that I have kept too faithfully.  Mother, thou art avenged:  sleep, daughter of Jerusalem! for at length the oppressor sleeps with thee.  And thy poor son has paid, in discharge of his vow, the forfeit of his own happiness, of a paradise opening upon earth, of a heart as innocent as thine, and a face as fair.