“That knowledge,” cried the old man, gesticulating vehemently with his arms.  “The knowledge of God Most High and all that the most refined philosophy can prove, all the sublimest and purest of the thinkers of whom you speak can only apprehend by the gravest meditation and heart-searching—­all this I say has been bestowed as a free gift of God on every child of our people.  The treasures which your sages painfully seek out we already possess in our scriptures, our law and our moral ordinances.  We are the chosen people, the first-born of the Lord, and when Messiah shall rise up in our midst—­”

“Then,” interrupted Apollodorus, “that shall be fulfilled which, like Philo, I hope for, we shall be the priests and prophets for all nations.  Then we shall in truth be a race of priests whose vocation it shall be to call down the blessing of the Most High on all mankind.”

“For us—­for us alone shall the messenger of God appear, to make us the kings, and not the slaves of the nations.”

Apollodorus looked with surprise into the face of the excited old man, and asked with an incredulous smile:  “The crucified Nazarene was a false Messiah; but when will the true Messiah appear?”

“When will He appear?” cried the Rabbi.  “When?  Can I tell when?  Only one thing I do know; the serpent is already sharpening its fangs to sting the heel of Him who shall tread upon it.  Have you heard the name of Bar Kochba?”

“Uncle,” said Ben Jochai, interrupting the old Rabbi’s speech, and rising from his seat:  “Say nothing you might regret.”

“Nay, nay,” answered Gamaliel earnestly.  “Our friends here prefer the human above the divine, but they are not traitors.”  Then turning again to Apollodorus he continued: 

“The oppressors in Israel have set up idols in our holy places, and strive again to force the people to bow down to them; but rather shall our back be broken than we will bend the knee or submit!”

“You are meditating another revolt?” asked the Alexandrian anxiously.

“Answer me—­have you heard the name of Bar Kochba?”

“Yes, as that of the foolhardy leader of an armed troup.”

“He is a hero—­perhaps the Redeemer.”

“And it was for him that you charged me to load my next corn vessel to Joppa with swords, shields and lance-heads?”

“And are none but the Romans to be permitted to use iron?”

“Nay—­but I should hesitate to supply a friend with arms if he proposed to use them against an irresistible antagonist, who will inevitably annihilate him!”

“The Lord of Hosts is stronger than a thousand legions!”

“Be cautious uncle,” said Ben Jochai again in a warning voice.

Gamaliel turned wrathfully upon his nephew, but before he could retort on the young man’s protest, he started in alarm, for a wild howling and the resounding clatter of violent blows on the brazen door of the house rang through the hall and shook its walls of marble.