"And tell me, Rabbi, what have you for All-Israel? What have you, Rabbi, for the wood-cutter, for the butcher, for the artisan, for the common Jew?—specially for the simple Jew? Rabbi, what have you for the unlearned?"
The Brisk Rabbi is silent, as though he did not understand what was being said to him. And still the Byàle Rebbe stands before him, and goes on in his sweet voice:
"Forgive me, Rabbi, but I must tell the truth—your Torah was hard, hard and dry, for it is only the body and not the soul of the Law!"
"The soul?" asks the Brisk Rabbi, and rubs his high forehead.
"Certainly, as I told you, Rabbi, your Torah is for the select, for the learned, not for All-Israel. And the Torah must be for All-Israel! The Divine Presence must rest on All-Israel! because the Torah is the soul of All-Israel!"
"And your Torah, Nòach?"
"You wish to see it, Rabbi?"
"Torah—see it?" wonders the Brisk Rabbi.
"Come, Rabbi, I will show it you!—I will show you its splendor, the joy which beams forth from it upon all, upon All-Israel!"
The Brisk Rabbi does not move.