“If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget her cunning.
“If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.”
It is very remarkable to find three millions of Jews settled in this portion of Europe. It may have been that, in former ages, when the Roman Church persecuted them so madly, they found greater peace and safety near the limits of the Eastern and Western churches, where the power of both was somewhat lessened; but certainly, in modern times, the two million two hundred thousand who are subjects of the Czar might readily find a more comfortable home.
Among other things which will amuse the Englishman in Germany, and, if, like ourselves, he refreshes himself at times with a cup of good tea, may perchance annoy him occasionally, is the kind of beverage he will obtain under this name. In the hotels we had often experienced this, and we expected to have our tea weak enough in the schloss also. But a refinement we had heard of, but never met, here presented itself in the form of a tiny bottle of rum, which was handed round with the sugar and cream to give a flavour to the tea! This contrivance for giving the tea some taste and flavour, so much less simple, one would suppose, than adding more of the pure leaf, is common in other parts of Germany besides West Prussia. Here is a humorous passage from a recent work of fiction by a German baroness, which illustrates very graphically the Teutonic notions about tea-drinking.
“At this moment Walburg exclaimed, ‘The water boils!’ and they all turned towards the hearth. ‘How much tea shall I put into the tea-pot?’ asked Madame Berger, appealing to Hamilton.
‘The more you put in the better it will be,’ answered Hamilton, without moving.
‘Shall I put in all that is in this paper?’
Hamilton nodded, and the tea was made.
‘Ought it not to boil a little now?’
‘By no means.’