uriah bore the dear bodies into her sleeping
chamber, and spread a white cloth over them. When the rabbi returned in
the evening, and asked for his boys that, according to wont, he might
bless them, his wife said, "They have gone to the house of God."

She brought the wine-cup, and he recited the concluding prayer of the
Sabbath, drinking from the cup, and, in obedience to a hallowed custom,
passing it to his wife. Again he asked, "Why are my sons not here to
drink from the blessed cup?" "They cannot be far off," answered the
patient sufferer, and suspecting naught, Rabbi Meir was happy and
cheerful. When he had finished his meal, Beruriah said: "Rabbi, allow me
to ask you a question." With his permission, she continued: "Some time
ago a treasure was entrusted to me, and now the owner demands it. Shall
I give it up?" "Surely, my wife should not find it necessary to ask this
question," said the rabbi. "Can you hesitate about returning property to
its rightful owner?" "True," she replied, "but I thought best not to
return it until I had advised you thereof." And she led him into the
chamber to the bed, and withdrew the cloth from the bodies. "O, my sons,
my sons," lamented the father with a loud voice, "light of my eyes, lamp
of my soul. I was your father, but you taught me the Law." Her eyes
suffused with tears, Beruriah seized her grief-stricken husband's hand,
and spoke: "Rabbi, did you not teach me to return without reluctance
that which has been entrusted to our safekeeping? See, 'the Lord gave,
and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.'"
"'Blessed be the name of the Lord,'" repeated the rabbi, accepting her
consolation, "and blessed, too, be His name for your sake; for, it is
written: 'Who can find a virtuous woman? for far above pearls is her
value.... She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and the law of kindness is
upon her tongue.'"

Surrounded by the halo of motherhood, richly dowered with intellectual
gifts, distinguished for learning, gentleness, and refinement, Beruriah
is a truly poetic figure. Incensed at the evil-doing of the unrighteous,
her husband prayed for their destruction. "How can you ask that, Rabbi?"
Beruriah interrupted him; "do not the Scriptures say: 'May _sins_ cease
from off the earth, and the wicked will be no more'? When _sin_ ceases,
there will be no more _sinners_. Pray rather, my rabbi, that they
repent, and amend their ways."[27]

That a woman could attain to Beruri