passion for which we were
quite unprepared. Ribera's character is charged like a thunder-cloud
with dramatic elements. Maria Rosa is the child of her father, fired at
a flash, "deaf, dumb, and blind" at the touch of passion.

"Does love steal gently o'er our soul?"

she asks;

"What if he come,
A cloud, a fire, a whirlwind?"

and then the cry:

"O my God!
This awful joy in mine own heart is love."

Again:

"While you are here the one thing real to me
In all the universe is love."

Exquisitely tender and refined are the love scenes--at the ball and in
the garden--between the dashing prince-lover in search of his pleasure
and the devoted girl with her heart in her eyes, on her lips, in her
hand. Behind them, always like a tragic fate, the somber figure of the
Spagnoletto, and over all the glow and color and soul of Italy.

In 1881 appeared the translation of Heine's poems and ballads, which was
generally accepted as the best version of that untranslatable poet. Very
curious is the link between that bitter, mocking, cynic spirit and the
refined, gentle spirit of Emma Lazarus. Charmed by the magic of his
verse, the iridescent play of his fancy, and the sudden cry of the heart
piercing through it all, she is as yet unaware or only vaguely conscious
of the of the real bond between them: the sympathy in the blood,
the deep, tragic, Judaic passion of eighteen hundred years that was
smouldering in her own heart, soon to break out and change the whole
current of thought and feeling.

Already, in 1879, the storm was gathering. In a distant province of
Russia at first, then on the banks of the Volga, and finally in Moscow
itself, the old cry was raised, the hideous mediaeval charge revived,
and the standard of persecution unfurled against the Jews. Province
after province took it up. In Bulgaria, Servia, and, above all,
Roumania, where, we were told, the sword of the Czar had been drawn to
protect the oppressed, Christian atrocities took the place of Moslem
atrocities, and history turned a page backward into the dark annals of
violence and crime. And not alone in despotic Russia, but in Germany,
the seat of modern philosophic thought and culture, the rage of
Anti-Semitism broke out and spread with fatal ease and potency. In
Berlin itself tumults and riots were threatened. We in America could
s