in
vegetarianism as the cure of all human sickness and sin—"There is no
vice stored in apples," he used to say, "and walnuts do not engender
evil passions"—this Method was the passion of his life. It consisted of
two circular leather pads, each divided into eight compartments
numbered from one to eight, and two bronze knobs. A forgetful pupil
had to repeat a phrase or passage eight times, and after each
repetition a bronze knob was shifted to the next number. But woe to the
child who, after having travelled in woeful monotony round pad number
one, could still not recite the passage without a single mistake. Pad
number two was then brought into action to mark eight complete cycles
on the first pad. If sixty-four repetitions could not engrave the
details of the High Priest's breastplate on my very soul, nothing
could. And now, for the first time confronted with gems, I thought with
consuming intensity of that hardly learnt tale of jewels and suddenly
remembered that each of the twelve precious stones had borne in graven
letters the name of one of the twelve tribes of Israel. I bent over the
table and looked at the collection closely, so closely that my mother
asked me caustically if I were going to pick up the stones with my nose.
I
was only looking for the holy lettering, but I could scarcely tell her
that. I could see only two flat stones that promised well. I picked
them up quickly. One was highly polished, but not in the least
lustrous. It was an oval of an ultramarine blue tint. My mother said it
was a lapis lazuli. Wistfully I pointed to the engraving upon it.
"What's that writing?" I asked. I knew it was neither
