"Would you know the Jews in their worst light, then ask a Polish n.o.ble.

Would you learn the vices and follies of the n.o.bility, question a Jew.

"The populous city was a large field of study for a curious observer like myself. I sought to learn the inmost character of the people of Israel. My attachment to them dated from infancy, and for a long while I hoped to consecrate my life to the amelioration of my race. Still weak, unknown, without influence and without knowledge, I could hardly believe myself equal to the role to which I aspired; but an interior voice encouraged me. I dreamed of regenerating the Polish Israelites.

But in this dream I did not believe that the reform would commence in the higher cla.s.ses. These were they who above all were an obstacle to my mission, through systematic indifference, always a thing more difficult to overcome than the most inveterate prejudice.

"The question being more complex than I had at first supposed, I found it necessary to acquire a more solid instruction in order to combat it.

I consecrated anew all my leisure to reading the Bible and its commentaries. At the outset my sojourn at Warsaw was sustained by sweet illusions, and my daily meetings in the city were very profitable to my intelligence. Conversations with this one and that one showed me the urgency of a reform to purify the Talmud and affirm the Bible and its teachings. The enterprise promised to be no less successful with mocking sceptics like my cousin, than with sincere fanatics whose sins were only excess of credulity.

"I really do not know how the idea of such a gigantic project originated in my mind. Humblest of men, I only know that I had a confidence in myself which increased with difficulties. In place of discouraging me, obstacles only enlarged the circle of my activity. I was in no haste to set to work. I wished above all to discover the ground and the weak point of my adversaries. That which frightened me, without making me renounce my project, was the great number of atheists among the Israelites.

"Mann and my cousin were not the only leaders of unbelief. Always and everywhere in the ruling cla.s.s I met counterparts of these two men. The lower cla.s.s offered me some consolation. Among them, though belief might be extinguished, religious customs still existed. There was often an abyss between true religion and its practice whose corruption was great, but at times there appeared an instance of virtue, radiant and pure.

"Everything a.s.sured me that my idea of reform was a just one, and that the propitious hour was not far off when I should become the instrument of G.o.d for the advancement of the people of Israel."

Jacob arose from his seat on the rock as he spoke, and his face shone with a superb and devout inspiration.

"And the streets of Warsaw did not make you lose your illusions?" asked Ivas smiling.

"Not at all. The thought that I carried from my distant province I preserved in the Polish capital. I have published it in my journeys, and I will take it back to Poland. The thought is my life!"

"Alas!" cried Ivas, "you come too late. The days of the prophets and the lawgivers are past. Proselytism is not possible in an epoch where each individual feels himself as capable as his neighbour of reasoning, of reforming, and of advancing by following his own impulses. No one will permit himself in these days to be led by the hand like a child."

"You are mistaken. Prophets are of all times, and, as general education is perfected, a guide is necessary to indicate the end to be obtained, and to conduct the ma.s.ses by the power of superior virtue."

"Have you, then, the hope of raising yourself to that position?"

"I know not. But the sentiment of this mission would not have taken such root in my soul if it came not from G.o.d. If I think to shrink from the task, a superior power orders me to advance."

"Poor dreamer!" thought Ivas.

"The burden is heavy," Jacob continued; "I do not ignore that. My personal worth has nothing to do with the thing. My object is so sublime that it awes me. But," said he suddenly, "you do not appear to comprehend me."

"No matter, I admire you!" replied the young Pole, shaking his companion's hand warmly. "I know very little of the Israelites, but I sympathize with them. Your race resembles ours. An ingenious Muscovite teacher, in one of his manuals for the schools where history is learned by questions and answers, has put the following question: 'Which are the nations without a country?' The official reply is: 'The Jews, the Gypsies, and the Poles.' I have never forgotten that wicked irony of a Russian teacher. Between you and me there is a likeness, and at the same time an unlikeness. Your oppression dates back to ages whose very antiquity is in one way an excuse for barbarism, while ours dates from an age that has taken for its device 'Fraternity, equality, and liberty!' Compared with other people in this nineteenth century, except, perhaps, the Irish, our destiny is a frightful anachronism. But to return to the Jews."

"You know me much better now," continued Jacob slowly. "You see before you a fanatic, an original, an eccentric, a man who believes, who hopes, who has a determined aim in life. I have undertaken my journey only to prepare myself better for the execution of my project. I am more convinced than ever of the necessity of the task which I have a.s.sumed. I have seen the Jews in almost every land. Everywhere I have found in them the two maladies which poison my co-religionists in Poland,--indifference or unbelief, which renders us cosmopolites; fanaticism, or ignorance, which puts on us the ban of humanity. These two dangerous elements threaten to extend. Israel will disappear from the surface of the earth, like all nations who repudiate their glorious past, like nations detached from the maternal breast of humanity, which live an exclusive life exhausting and extinguishing themselves. Israel has great need of regeneration."

"And you expect to be the regenerator?"

"I count only on indicating the work. What reason should hinder me from putting my hand to the task for which I have prepared myself with a.s.siduity and perseverance. The will is an immense force.

"After my visit to Mann, my cousin asked me what impression I had formed of this man whom he knew better than I. He sought, no doubt, by this question to better understand my humble self.

"'I found him,' replied I, 'so occupied that it was a trouble to receive me.'

"'Did he not receive you well?'

"'Yes. But'--

"'Bah! You must not attach importance to his reception. He is a boor whose grossness is only partly concealed. At heart he is an honest and excellent man.'

"We arose from the table, the ladies pa.s.sed into the _salon_, and my cousin led me to his study, where he drew from me a detailed report of my visit.

"'I am young,' added I in finishing, 'and I have therefore nothing to seek. At all events, I have no desire to see him again.'

"'On the contrary! On the contrary! You must go to see him often. Shake off your timidity. With men in general be bold without impertinence.

The less you treat them with respect, the more consideration they will have for you. Abase yourself, and they will put you under their feet.'

"'You are right,' replied I; 'nevertheless I cannot change myself; I cannot be bold by reflection nor calculation, nor humble by interest.

It is unfortunate to have so little control over one's self, but it would be in vain for me to attempt to change my nature.'

"'Then you will never amount to anything. In the world, in order to succeed, one must play a continual part; one must know how to be humble when one is really proud, and to show one's self valiant when paralyzed by fear. Otherwise one is exposed to impositions, dominated over and crushed. You must crush or be crushed; which would you rather do?'

"'So wretched a rule of conduct,' said I, 'will never be mine. My principles are absolutely different. I look on life as a grave and serious mission; as for yourself, excuse my frankness, it is not a role learned in advance for the theatre.'

"'Oh, I do not mind,' said he; 'but our two systems differ because you have too good an opinion of men. Yours is fine in appearance, detestable in results. Open your heart, unveil your inmost thoughts, it is to deliver them voluntarily as food for men whom reason commands us to despise as our natural enemies.'

"'I would rather,' cried I, 'regard them as brothers!' My cousin laughed ironically and stroked his beard.

"'My dear,' added he, 'it matters not what you prefer, but what really exists. I have never supposed that you were so innocent. All the bucolic pictures of mankind are very well in paintings, tapestries, or screens, but in practical life to believe in Utopia is always to remain a dupe. At times man is good and honest, but he inclines more frequently to evil. Is it not worth while to lean on a normal state rather than on exceptions of short duration?'

"'But humanity will perfect itself.'

"'When? How? All nonsense! Industry will advance, implements will be perfected so that we may be nourished and clad, commerce will develop, but not man. That which makes life easy for the ma.s.ses is a benefit, and yet the question is not determined whether all this progress corrupts or elevates mankind. The question is not settled. We must use men like tools to elevate ourselves, and not lose time by loving them as a whole. The useless ought to be put out of the way without pity.

The capable we must learn to make use of. Behold my theory! Your's leads to nothing. Sensibility is a disease, a malady of the worst kind.'

"This terrible theory did not frighten me; I was prepared to hear it.

This was for me a decisive and memorable day. It brought together, and at the same time drew apart, my mentor and myself. He continued, looking me in the face:--

"'As I wish you well, not from a morbid sensibility, but to make of you a man who may be useful to me, I will give you one more word of advice.

You have a habit, as if to distinguish yourself, of boasting continually of being a Jew. It is ridiculous, and will injure you seriously.'

"'It would, I think, be still more ridiculous to wish to conceal it, and that I will never do,' replied I, 'for I am strongly attached to my race and to my belief. By simple calculation, even, would it not be a hundred times better to declare my origin than to conceal it, that it may afterward be thrown in my face as an insult?'

"'But why recall your origin everywhere you go?'

"'Because I am proud of it.'

"'Proud, and why? That is inconceivable. Judaism was, perhaps, in former times our shield and buckler, but it is no longer so.'

"'But our religion,' commenced I.

"'Our religion! What is it more than other religions? They are all alike. So much milk for babes. You believe, then, that it is wicked to yoke together an ox and an a.s.s for labour, or to mix blood with milk, or silk with wool, and that whoever does not keep these old rules and reply Amen to them will go to h.e.l.l?'

"'I respect even these old ordinances of my faith, difficult as they are to explain. I see the reason in the law of Moses of the order not to mix grains in the fields: it is a wise agricultural measure. To forbid two animals working together, one of whom is much weaker than the other, is a protection for the beasts. Not to mix blood and milk is probably a good hygienic law. Not to wear silk and wool at the same time can pa.s.s for a sumptuary law, designed as a lesson against superfluous luxury. In general, all these prohibitions against mixing species are symbols of the necessity that there is for Israelites not to mix with other nations. I respect these rules even when I cannot explain them. The 'Amen' in the schools is a duty, for not to a.s.sent to the rabbins is to show unbelief.'

"My cousin listened, astonished at the enthusiasm of my answer, then he shrugged his shoulders.

"'You had better get rid of these prejudices,' said he.