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diff --git a/34617-h/34617-h.htm b/34617-h/34617-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..938df12 --- /dev/null +++ b/34617-h/34617-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8736 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Jews Of Barnow, by KARL EMIL FRANZOS. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jews of Barnow, by Karl Emil Franzos + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jews of Barnow + Stories + +Author: Karl Emil Franzos + +Translator: M. W. MacDowall + +Release Date: December 10, 2010 [EBook #34617] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEWS OF BARNOW *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>THE JEWS OF BARNOW.</h1> + +<h3>STORIES</h3> + +<h2>KARL EMIL FRANZOS</h2> + +<h3><i>TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY</i></h3> + +<h2>M. W. MACDOWALL</h2> + +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> +1, 3, and 5 BOND STREET<br /> +1883</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The scoff, the curse—his people's heritage—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have left upon his shrunken face their sting;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His eyes gleam like those of some hunted thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against whose life implacable war men wage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We read the Jew's face as one reads a page<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of his own nation's history, for there cling<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About its lines, deep-worn with suffering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The traces still of Israel's lordly age."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">F. F. M.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#PREFACEA">PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</a><br /> +<a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_SHYLOCK_OF_BARNOW">THE SHYLOCK OF BARNOW.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHANE">CHANE.</a><br /> +<a href="#TWO_SAVIOURS_OF_THE_PEOPLE">TWO SAVIOURS OF THE PEOPLE.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_CHILD_OF_ATONEMENT">"THE CHILD OF ATONEMENT."</a><br /> +<a href="#ESTERKA_REGINA">ESTERKA REGINA.</a><br /> +<a href="#BARON_SCHMULE">"BARON SCHMULE."</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_PICTURE_OF_CHRIST">THE PICTURE OF CHRIST.</a><br /> +<a href="#NAMELESS_GRAVES">NAMELESS GRAVES.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Christian_Reids_Novels">Christian Reid's Novels.</a><br /> +<a href="#Rhoda_Broughtons_Novels">Rhoda Broughton's Novels.</a><br /> +<a href="#Julia_Kavanaghs_Works">Julia Kavanagh's Works.</a><br /> +<a href="#VICE_VERSA">By F. Anstey.</a><br /> +<a href="#UNCLE_REMUS">By Joel Chandler Harris.</a><br /> +<a href="#Charlotte_M_Yonges_Novels">Charlotte M Yonge's Novels.</a><br /> +<a href="#James_Fenimore_Coopers_Novels">James Fenimore Cooper's Novels.</a><br /> +<a href="#APPLETONS_POPULAR_SERIES">Appletons' Popular Series.</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PREFACEA" id="PREFACEA"></a>PREFACE</h2> + +<h3>TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</h3> + + +<p>Although the high literary art which Franzos possesses (the finer +quality of which has been preserved in this translation) is fully +admitted by intelligent Jews, the subject-matter of his book itself, its +<i>raison d'ętre</i>, they have by no means relished. In a review of "The +Jews of Barnow," published some months ago in a leading New York +journal, it was asserted by the writer that, from internal evidence, +Franzos must be a Jew. This statement was directly controverted by a +Jewish weekly of the highest standing. Still, we must believe that the +acumen of the New York reviewer was not at fault, because in a late +number of "Blackwood's Magazine," which contained an interesting +criticism of Franzos and his book, it was asserted that the author is or +was a Jew. No man not born a Jew, perfectly familiar with all the phases +of Jewish life in Eastern Galicia, and in sympathy with them, could have +created this book. Franzos may have clothed Jews and Jewesses with +poetical raiment, given them melodramatic phrasings, but the gabardine, +caftan, love-locks, are visible—the whine, the nasal twang audible.</p> + +<p>This denial that Franzos was a Jew, though apparently insignificant in +itself, and due, perhaps, to a want of acquaintance with the facts, is +still peculiarly indicative of a natural <i>travers</i> of the Jewish mind. +Any description of the inner life of Jews, when written by a Jew, unless +it be laudatory, is particularly distasteful to Jews. No race cares to +have its failings exposed. From one of another creed such strictures may +be passed over with stolid indifference, but, from one of their own +blood, any censure, direct or applied, is considered by Jews in the +light of a sacrilege. With Jews it is ever a cry, "It is a dirty bird +that fouls its own nest." Such acridity as a Goldwin Smith distills, +Jews laugh at; but when one of their kinsmen, a Mr. Montefiore, finds +fault with them, bidding them look for grace in another direction, then +at once a holy horror pervades them.</p> + +<p>What Franzos describes is Jewish life pent up within the narrow limits +of some Galician town. Religious dislikes, racial hatreds kindled a +thousand years ago, have never been quenched. Though to-day in that town +a Jew could not be murdered, because it would be against the law, the +inclination to kill him, because he is a Jew, still exists. The simple +fact, that every Jew had been taught to read and write, had quickened +his brains. Through heredity he became, intellectually, superior to the +illiterate peasant, or townsfolk, who hemmed him in. The mental +phenomenon the Jew would present, under such conditions, would not be, +after all, so peculiar. He had but two ends in life, to work and pray. +Even his toil was restricted, for he could only engage in certain +callings. His solace was his religion. He might pray to his Maker, but +only in such set phrases as had been chosen for him. His God was by far +too sublime for him, poor worm, to address in such homely words as might +well up spontaneously from his own heart. A slave to tradition, bound +down by rote, the Jew had been taught that the least divergence from a +cut-and-dried ritual was heresy. Mental and physical isolation brought +about arrested development. The only wonder about this all is, that the +Jew in Eastern Europe, seeing a better chance for life beyond the pale +of his religion, had not broken bounds, and, abjuring his creed, found +outside of it an easier existence. Brushing aside that sentimentalism +which so often obscures considerations of this character, the chances of +security for an apostate Jew were not very certain. Travestied in the +guise of a Christian, he never could have looked like one. Stamped on +his features were all the marked characteristics of his Orientalism. +Even his tongue would have played him false, for the rabbi had forbidden +him the use of that language common to the state in which he lived. By +some complications brought about by the Jews themselves in Eastern +Europe, they are not always subjected to the same regulations as +Christians. Religious laws made for their own government, which +underpinned their social life, were rarely meddled with. In a primitive +society, necessarily ignorant, any accredited head, according to the +laws of sociology, must be a despotic one. A rabbi, then, in these +unknown towns, wielded almost the power of life and death. That modern +infliction of Boycotting has been borrowed directly from the Jews. For a +trivial divergence from common custom the punishment was severe. In +these Polish or Russian districts, thirty years ago, a Jew did not dare +read a Christian book.</p> + +<p>What Franzos shows markedly in his "Jews of Barnow" is that barrier +which Jews throw around their household. The seclusion of the family, so +purely Oriental in its character, is something which the Polish rabbi +takes particular pains to teach. This hiding, of what is the finest +trait the Jew possesses, that love and peace which dwell in his home, +that reverence which children have for their parents, that sacrifice of +everything to his affections, because it never is known, has tended more +than anything else to alienate the Jew from his neighbor. Among the +ultra-orthodox Jews, whether they live in Odessa, Cracow, Frankfort, +London, or New York, their doors are inhospitably closed to those of +another belief. Has there been transmitted some instinct engendered by +mistrust?</p> + +<p>Is Judaism, then, so sensitive a plant that it should wither by mere +contact? If, to live, it must have seclusion, it approaches closely to +the Eastern's idea of a woman's virtue, something wanting the protection +of high walls and difficult approaches. In our age, any religion which +requires exclusiveness so that it may exist is hardly worth the keeping.</p> + +<p>Franzos's stories exhibit those barbarities even now practiced under the +sacred name of religion. There are Jews who are not merely galled by the +opprobrium which in some places is still attached to their race, but are +sincerely desirous of removing it. Franzos, because he describes what is +the iron law of Talmudical or rabbinical tradition, shows how +superstition degrades the man. It is difficult at this day, when +research and modern methods of criticism have thrown such a flood of +light on the past, to realize the mental condition of that vast body of +Jews at the time of the commencement of the Christian era and the +destruction of Jerusalem. The whole national and municipal +administration of the country was in the hands of the priesthood. Every +law, every ordinance, every police and sanitary regulation, became a +religious obligation. Every action in every man's family, whether social +or political, was regulated for him by rules handed down from former +generations, and these rules were barnacled by conventionalisms. For his +guidance in the most commonplace actions, a Jew had perforce recourse to +his rabbi. As must always be the case, when municipal administration +emanates from a church, religious observances override legal or social +obligations. With the crucifixion of Christ came that hatred of Jews, +the intensity of which can only now be measured by its continuance. The +exclusion of Jews from the society and communion of mankind petrified +into marble-like hardness all those existing traditions which guided the +Jew's methods of life. Forbidden by every conceivable form of oppression +and disability from accompanying the rest of mankind on their march +toward a higher civilization, every advance, mental or physical, denied +them, it was as if a hot iron had been seared over the bloody wound +which had lopped them off from the family of nations. It is a wonder +that all future growth was not arrested. As to the charge of tribalism +(the writer acknowledging that the vast majority of Jews believe in it), +and even according some unknown and undefined power as derivable from +tribalism, to make a charge of this is but to repeat the old fable of +the wolf and the lamb.</p> + +<p>All that intelligent Jews are doing to-day is to take advantage of their +freedom. They are trying to rid themselves of that incubus which has +been weighing them down. That large and increasing number of Reformers +and Reform synagogues, springing up in the large cities of Western +Europe and the United States; the decadence, the difficulty of +maintaining synagogues of pure orthodox Jews; the complaints, the +lamentations which are constantly heard from the mouths of orthodox +ministers and their organs, over what they call "the neglect of +religious observance," show that the time of change has come. Even among +some of the orthodox, the gross superstitions accompanying the offerings +(auction-sales of God's blessings, knocked down to the highest bidder) +have been for the major part abolished. Efforts are continually made to +modify the ritual by denationalizing the older-fashioned form of prayer, +and giving it more of that spiritual life which Maimonides first +developed. Dietary and physical observances, which the Eastern Jew +borrowed or adopted from the nations which once surrounded him, are +being expunged.</p> + +<p>What is the true reason for this change, a change which, born in America +and in England, is now commencing to exert some slight influence in +Germany? The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. Every act +of wrong done to Jews rendered them the more rigid in their belief, +causing at the same time differentiation in their surroundings. +Whenever, through the operation of better, more humane laws, oppression +was removed, Jews became more like the men among whom they lived. Why +should M. Renan find fault with the French Jew, and take the Parisian +Israelite as the type of some Hebraic Athenian? Under normal conditions +men float in the general current, at about equal depths, for the social +law of specific gravity remains forever the same. Those sociologists +are ignorant of their calling who demand, then, of the Jew an +instantaneous reversal of an existence formed by his surroundings, and a +forgetting of the great belief which has been burned into his heart by +the fires of thousands of years.</p> + +<p>To the American Jew, "The Jews of Barnow" shows very clearly a great +many things he may have been ignorant about. Jews who came to this +country fifty years since, who by thrift, honesty, and intelligence, +have secured an ample store of the world's goods, are prone to forget +their early surroundings, or hesitate to tell their American children of +that bigotry which existed in their European birth-places. They have +educated their children in their own creed; but American school-boys or +school-girls have had one inestimable blessing, the contact with an +outer world and the opportunity of thinking for themselves. Education +and superstition can never have a co-existence. These fathers would feel +ashamed, then, did they tell their children the absurdities which they +once were taught. That one story of Franzos's, "The Child of Atonement," +is a revelation. As an American Jew reads it, he might be inclined to +deem the Rabbi of Sadagóra a Torquemada, or that it was a clever +creation, having no existence save in the brain of the romance-writer. +But it is not a fancy-drawn picture, but had once actual being. Such +stories as "The Child of Atonement" and "The Nameless Graves" can not be +read by any intelligent Jew without the burning brand of shame rising +to his cheeks. As to the truthfulness of many portions of Franzos's +book, unfortunately there can be no possible doubt. There may not be +many Rabbis of Sadagóra, but excommunication, the <i>cherem</i>, that social +inquisition, is as prevalent in Russia and Poland, in 1882, as it was a +thousand years ago. The Rabbi of Sadagóra of Franzos's book is dead, but +his son actually lives, exercises perhaps not the same cruelties, but +attributes to himself the identical miraculous functions as did his +wicked father before him, and still this younger medicine-man has his +followers.</p> + +<p>"The Jews of Barnow" should make the existence of a Rabbi of Sadagóra an +impossibility. Jewish women who read "The Jews of Barnow" will be amazed +to learn how degraded is the condition of their sex in Eastern Europe. +That one horrible text in their prayer-book, said by the men, "Thank God +that thou hast not made me a woman," belongs to the period of the +coarsest barbarity. It is incorporated in innumerable volumes, now +perhaps being printed. Educated Jews who read this vicious paragraph, +who think of mother, wife, and daughter, feel the degradation of it, and +loathe its interpretation. We can not agree with Frances Power Cobbe in +the general application of this sentence of hers, that "something +appears to be lacking in Jewish feeling concerning women. Too much of +Oriental materialism still lingers. Too little of Occidental chivalry +and romance has yet arisen." This might be applicable for the East, even +in its most exaggerated sense, but is hardly just to the West. Still, as +Franzos tells us in his book, girls are sold to men, and become, it is +true, wives, but with as little ceremony as if they were Circassians.</p> + +<p>The oldest source of any religion is not the purest, "If it be an +historical religion, fanaticism always assumes the form of a return to +the primitive type." The ultra-orthodox Jew is ruled by the Ashkenazim +of Jerusalem, the most superstitious, the most ignorant of men. This +sect still fights for power. Even the purity of the Ashkenazim's belief, +monotheism, the only thing left it, must be taken with suspicion, +because the sanity or sincerity of any Cabalist is to be doubted.</p> + +<p>There are little, if any, differences existing in the social strata, +educated or uneducated, which uphold Christian beliefs. If Rome is the +fountain-head of Catholicity, Jerusalem ought to be the true source +whence Hebraism flows. The Holy City of the Jews does exert its +influence over millions of the ultra-orthodox, but for educated +Israelites has no more weight than have the decrees of any +miracle-working rabbi who holds forth in Cracow. If there be in Russia, +Finland, Scandinavia, Austria, Hungary, Roumania, Turkey, some five and +a half million Jews, and in England, France, and the United States, half +a million more, what a vast proportion are steeped in darkness!</p> + +<p>What does as much as anything else to injure the Jew, and to make +mankind his enemy, is that belief he entertains that he is the race "God +cherishes most." This is, indeed, tribalism. Selected by the Creator as +his special favorites, pious Jews think that to them "all blessings +shall be given." Once it was believed that a Jew's brain was made of a +finer material, that he was less subject to dementia, than others. Some +very sad personal observations assure the writer that such is not the +case. If anything, in that struggle for wealth in which Jews engage in +the large cities of the United States, they have children more prone to +feeble-mindedness than Christians. The close-marriage system of the Jews +may in a certain measure induce degeneracy by exhaustion of the original +stock, for the laws of nature are inexorable, and act alike in Christian +or Mohammedan. That preservation of his race is something the Jew most +particularly prides himself about. The Parsee, who for so long a time +has had a religion apart, presents the precise condition of an isolated +existence which the Jew is so proud of. Morality, continence, the sacred +character of the marriage-ties, do in a certain measure preserve the +Jewish race, but the miraculous in such fractional existence has nothing +marvelous about it. This self-laudation of race, that "pride-belief," is +the most difficult to eradicate, for it has been the consolation of an +oppressed race.</p> + +<p>What, then, is reform, this Jewish reform? It is pure, unadulterated +monotheism. It believes that men, though they may expound religion, can +not create it. It looks on the Talmud, as did Emanuel Deutsch, as the +most poetical, the most confusing of chronicles, but utterly worthless +for the guidance of any human being—a curiosity, patched over, +embroidered, by a thousand different hands, something to be placed in a +cabinet, to be gazed on, but as practically useless for human +instruction as would be the Arthurian romances. Yahya ibn Main was a +worshiper of the Prophet, and labored all his life to purify the text of +his Koran, and thus he is recorded to have said: "I wrote down numbers +of traditions under the dictation of liars, and made use of the paper +for heating my ovens. I thus obtained at least one advantage—my bread +was well baked." One saying in the Talmud is applicable to it: "They +dived into the ocean and brought up a potsherd." Oh, the <i>olla-podrida</i> +of nonsense in it! And still it shapes the lives of millions of Jews; it +warps their ways, for it is almost their only book.</p> + +<p>The Reformer is no iconoclast, he is educated enough not to wish to +destroy this relic of a past, but he is striving to expunge it, to +deprive the Talmud from exerting its baleful influence. The reformed Jew +believes in a God of mercy—one of love. He thinks that his Creator is +not a vengeful being. He does not believe that Christ was the Son of +God, doubts even a coming Messiah, but thinks that modern teachings have +done for man's immortal soul what the older lawgivers did for grosser +flesh and blood only. What the Reformer desires most especially is that +he shall have readers, clergymen (call them what you please), who shall +not only be familiar with the language they live in, but have the +highest, the very highest education, be in fact the equals of those who +preach to their Christian friends. These Reformers sicken over those +attempts of crass ignorance which, through the borrowed sanctity of a +salaried office, assume the direction of educated intelligence. The +majority of these Reformers are utterly indifferent to dietary +regulations. Can peace with God, a resurrection of the soul after the +death of the body, entrance to heaven, have anything to do with the +eating of a mollusk? Could the great Creator have made food for one man +which another dare not eat? Trivialities, mixed up in religion, debase +it, weaken it, sap it to its very vitals. A stronger, more hearty belief +must emancipate itself from puerilities. A reformed Jew can not be a +materialist, though he may strip religion of its symbolisms.</p> + +<p>Millennium is far distant, and a Bishop of Sadagóra and a Goldwin Smith +may never, perhaps, lie in the same bed, or sup at the same banquet, for +both of them represent that antagonism which inflamed England in King +John's time, or is rampant to-day with Pastor Stöcker in King William of +Prussia's reign. "Every country has the Jews it deserves," writes +Franzos, quoting the most direful of sayings. God help, in his infinite +mercy, American-born Jews if, in generations to come, this cruel speech +had ever an application! It might arise from their own errors, and the +faults of their surroundings. It would mean, however, nothing less than +the political degradation of that country in which Christian and Jew +live. Mr. Froude has been much blamed, little lauded, for what he wrote +in regard to an oppressed race. It was somewhat as follows: that those +who could not fight for their freedom did not deserve it.</p> + +<p>It sometimes happens that fiction produces effects where facts fail. It +is believed, then, that Franzos's stories will not only be of interest +to numerous readers, but in the hands of the reformed Jew, by means of +the lessons it teaches, help him in his earnest efforts to save his race +from retrogression.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Barnet Phillips.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>The following stories, the scene of which is laid in the Podolian +Ghetto, were my first literary attempt. They were for the most part +written while I was at the university, and were published in various +journals. Owing to circumstances, another and later book—"Aus +Halb-Asien"—was the first to come out; for this youthful work was not +published as a whole until 1876. I mention this, although it is visible +from internal evidence, to explain my choice of subjects. The preface to +that edition gives a further account of this, and from it I make the +following quotations:</p> + +<p>"When I took up my pen four years ago, I strongly felt the necessity of +making my work as artistic as possible. I wished to write stories, and +strove to give them poetic value. For this very reason, it seemed +necessary that I should describe the kind of life with which I was best +acquainted. This was essentially the case with regard to that of the +Podolian Jews. I therefore became the historian of the Podolian Ghetto, +and it was my great desire to give these stories an artistic form; but +not at the cost of truth. I have never permitted my love of the +beautiful to lead me into the sin of falsifying the facts and conditions +of life, and am confident that I have described this strange and +outlandish mode of existence precisely as it appeared to me. If in my +first published volume my efforts to portray men and manners needed the +assistance of my powers as a novelist, so in this book my knowledge of +men and manners has to help me in my labors as a novelist. Sometimes the +one side of my character takes the upper hand, and sometimes the other; +but still they are at bottom inseparable, and it has always been my +endeavor to describe facts artistically. However the novelist may be +judged, the portrayer of men and manners demands that his words should +be believed.</p> + +<p>"This request is not superfluous, for it is a very strange mode of life +to which I am about to introduce the reader. The influences and +counter-influences that affect it are only touched upon in this book. +Had I given a full account of them in an introduction, the introduction +would, in all likelihood have been longer than the book. I have +therefore refrained from doing it, and believe that I was right in +making this decision. For I have kept before my eyes, while penning +these stories, that I am writing for a Western reader. If he will only +trust to my love of truth, and regard the separate stories in +combination with each other, he will gain a clear idea of the kind of +life I describe without any further particulars. I would repeat one +sentence, the truth of which is shown in my first book: 'Every country +has the Jews that it deserves'—and it is not the fault of the Polish +Jews that they are less civilized than their brethren in the faith in +England, Germany, and France. At least, it is not entirely their fault.</p> + +<p>"No one can do more than his nature permits. This book is to a certain +extent polemical, and the stories are written with an object. I do not +deny that this is the case, and do not think it requires any excuse. +Still I have never allowed myself to sin against truth in the pursuit of +this object. I do not make the Polish Jews out to be either better or +worse than they really are. These stories are not written for the +purpose of holding up the Eastern Jews to obloquy or admiration, but +with the object of throwing as much light as I could in dark places."</p> + +<p>The second edition, published in 1877, only differed from the first in a +few alterations made in the language; but the third edition (from which +this translation is taken) is not only enlarged, but is also changed in +several important particulars. I examined each story carefully, and +strove to bring all into a distinct connection with each other, thus +giving a clear idea of Polish Judaism regarded as a whole. For this +reason new tales were introduced: they describe Jewish customs that had +been at first passed over in silence, but which were necessary for the +proper appreciation of the subject.</p> + +<p>This work has been translated into all European languages, as well as +into Hebrew; and now I have the pleasure of being able to lay it before +the English public, by whom I hope it will receive as kind a reception +as it has been given elsewhere. I hope so less for my own sake than in +the interest of the unfortunate people whose life it describes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Karl Emil Franzos.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vienna.</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SHYLOCK_OF_BARNOW" id="THE_SHYLOCK_OF_BARNOW"></a>THE SHYLOCK OF BARNOW.</h2> + +<h3>(1873.)</h3> + + +<p>The Jew's great white house stands exactly opposite the old gray +monastery of the Dominicans, and close to the public road that leads +from Lemberg to Skala, passing through the gloomy little town of Barnow +on the way. The people born in the small dirty houses of the Ghetto grow +up with a feeling of the deepest respect and admiration for this house +and its owner, old Moses Freudenthal. Both house and man are the pride +of Barnow; and both in their own way justify this pride.</p> + +<p>To describe the house in the first place. It really seems to be +conscious of its own grandeur as it stands there proud and stately in +all the dignity of white-washed cleanliness, the long windows of the +first floor bright and shining, and the painted shutters of the +shop-windows coming down to the very ground at either side of the great +folding-doors which stand invitingly open. For it is a house of +entertainment, and the nobles of the country-side know how to take +advantage of its superior attractions when they come to town on +magisterial business, or attend the weekly market. It is also patronized +by the cavalry officers who are stationed in the villages in the +neighborhood, whenever the boredom of country quarters drives them into +town. Besides this, the house is let in suites of apartments, and the +greatest of the magnates of Barnow, such as the district judge and the +doctor, live there. But it would be difficult to give a list of all the +house contains, the ground-floor is so crowded. In one room is a lottery +agency, then come the offices of a company for insuring cattle, men, and +corn; and again, a drapery establishment, a grocer's shop, a room in +which gentlemen may drink their wine, and another where the poor man can +enjoy his glass of brandy-and-water. But then, the lottery agent, the +agent of the insurance company, the draper, the grocer, and the +innkeeper are one and all—Moses Freudenthal.</p> + +<p>But the tall stern-looking old man to whom the house belongs is even +more worthy of notice than it and all it contains. His family has been +the grandest in the town as long as people can remember, and to him +belongs of right the chief place in the synagogue. His father had been +appointed head of the session on the death of his grandfather, and when +his father died he was chosen as his successor without a dissentient +voice, and by the unsolicited vote of the whole congregation. He is +regarded as one of the most pious and honorable men in the Jewish +community. Added to this is his wealth—his enormous wealth!</p> + +<p>His co-religionists regard him as a millionaire, and they are right. For +he not only possesses the big white house and all that is in it, but he +has every reason to look upon several of the estates in the neighborhood +as more really belonging to him than to the Polish nobles who live on +them. And then Komorowka is his also. This beautiful place fell into his +hands when little Count Smólski and his lovely wife Aurora lost it by +their extravagance after a very few years' possession. Komorowka is +indeed a lovely place. No wonder that when the time came for Count +Smólski to leave his old home, he was in such utter despair that he +sought to forget his woes in the worst fit of drunkenness of his whole +life.</p> + +<p>Would you be much surprised if you were now told that Moses Freudenthal +was not only the richest and proudest, but also the most envied, man in +Barnow?</p> + +<p>But this he is not. Ask the poorest man in the Jewish town—the teacher +of the law, who, with his six children, often suffers from the pangs of +hunger, or the water-carriers, who groan under the heavy pails they bear +from morning to night from the town-well—ask these men whether they +would exchange lots with Moses, and they will at once answer, "No." For +Freudenthal's sorrow is even greater than his wealth.</p> + +<p>It is true that you can not read this in his face as he stands, tall and +stately, in the doorway of his house. His silver-gray hair falls down +below his black velvet skull-cap; the two long curls that hang, one at +each side of the face, as is the fashion of the Chassidim, are also +silver-gray and thin. But his figure is still strong and upright, and +the curiously cut Jewish coat that he wears, resembling a <i>talar</i> in +shape, and made of black cloth, is by no means an unbecoming garment. +The old man stands almost motionless watching the painter who is busy +painting the doors of the spirit-shop a bright arsenic green, with +bottles, glasses, and <i>bretzeln</i>,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> in yellow and white upon the green +background. He seldom turns to acknowledge the greeting of a passer-by, +for but few people are in the streets to-day. Now and then a group of +Ruthenian peasants may be seen reeling out of the town-gate, or a +nobleman drives past in his light britzska, or perhaps it is some poor +peddler, who has been wandering the whole week long from farm to farm in +the district, exchanging money and cloth for the sheepskins, laden with +which he is returning to town. His burden is heavy and his gain is but +small, yet his pale, worn, and, it may be, cunning face is not without +a gleam of joy and pride. A few hours later and the miserable ragged +Jewish peddler, on whom farmers and nobles had tried the weight of their +whips, and on whom they had made many a scurrilous jest, is transformed +into a proud prince awaiting the arrival of his lovely bride—the day of +rest, the Sabbath.</p> + +<p>He has not long to wait now, the Friday afternoon is drawing to a close, +and the sun will soon set. Preparations for the day of rest are being +made in every house; the sunlit street is almost totally deserted. Herr +Lozinski, the district judge, a tall, thin, yellow-faced man, is coming +down the street accompanied by a young stranger. He stands at the door +for a few minutes talking to Moses before going up-stairs to his rooms. +They discuss the badness of the times, the low price of silver, and the +promising April weather; for it is a real spring day, more like May than +anything else. The streets are very dry, except for a few puddles in the +market-place; the air is deliciously soft and warm, and yonder in the +monk's garden the fruit-trees and elder bushes are covered with blossom. +The Christian children coming home from school are shouting, "Spring! +spring is coming!" "Yes, spring is coming," says the district judge, +taking off his hat and leading his guest up-stairs. "Spring is coming," +repeats old Moses, passing his hand across his forehead as if awakening +from a dream.... "Spring is coming!"</p> + +<p>"Old Moses is a very remarkable man," says the district judge to the new +registrar. "I scarcely know whether to call him eccentric or not. You +won't believe it, but he knows as much law as the best barrister in the +land. And besides that, he's the richest man in the country-side. He is +said to be worth millions! And yet he slaves week-in, week-out, as +though he hadn't the wherewithal to buy his Sabbath dinner."</p> + +<p>"A niggardly money-grubber like all the Jews," says the registrar, +making the smoke of his cigar curl slowly in the air.</p> + +<p>"H'm! By no means. He is generous. I must confess that he is very +generous. But his generosity gives him no more pleasure than his wealth. +Yet he goes on speculating as before. And for whom, if you please—for +whom?"</p> + +<p>"Has he no children?" inquires the other.</p> + +<p>"Yes. That's to say, he has and he hasn't. Ask him, and he will tell you +that he has none. But you don't know his story, do you?... Every one +here knows it—but then, you see, you come from Lemberg. I suppose that +you never heard any one speak of the old man's daughter, beautiful Esther +Freudenthal, when you were there? The whole affair is very romantic; I +must tell it you...."</p> + +<p>The old man, whose story every one knows, is still leaning against the +doorway of his house, watching the flower-laden branches of the +fruit-trees in the cloister garden as they sway in the breeze. What is +he thinking of? It can not be of his business; for his eyes are wet with +unshed tears, and his lips tremble for a moment as though with stifled +grief. He shades his eyes with his hand, as if the sunlight were +blinding him. Then he draws himself up, and shakes his head, as though +trying to rid himself of the sad thoughts that oppress him.</p> + +<p>"Make haste, the Sabbath is drawing nigh," he says to the painter as he +approaches to examine his work more closely.</p> + +<p>The little humpback, who wears a shabby frogged coat of a fashion only +known in Poland, has just finished the folding-doors, and now limps away +to the window-shutters, paint-pot in hand. These shutters had formerly +been colored a bright crimson, and their faded surface still bears the +almost illegible inscription in white letters: "For ready money +to-day—to-morrow gratis." Their glory has long since departed, and the +little man, quickly filling his brush with the vivid green, begins to +paint over them, saying as he works, "Do you remember, Pani Moschko, +that I painted this too?" and with that he points to the dirty brown-red +of the first coloring.</p> + +<p>But Moses is thinking of other things, and scarcely heeding him, answers +with an indifferent, "Really."</p> + +<p>"Of course I did," continues the little man eagerly. "Don't you +remember? I painted it fifteen years ago on just such another beautiful +day as this is. The house was quite new, and I was a young fellow then. +When I had finished my work, you looked at it, and said, 'I am pleased +with you, Janko.' You were standing in front of the door, just where you +are now, I verily believe, and your little Esterka was beside you. Holy +Virgin! how lovely the child was! And how pleasant it was to hear her +laugh when she saw the white letters appearing one after the other on +the red ground! She asked what they meant, the darling! You gave me +three Theresien <i>zwanzigers</i><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> for my work. I remember it as distinctly +as if it were yesterday. I thought then that it was my last job in +Barnow; for old Herr von Polanski wanted to send me to the school of +design at Cracow. But soon afterward he lost every farthing he +possessed, and was even obliged to sell his daughter Jadwiga in order to +get food to eat, and so I remained a house-painter. Ah yes! man proposes +and.... Deuce take it! The old man's gone, and here I am gossiping away +to the empty air. I suppose that the Jew is counting his money as +usual...."</p> + +<p>But Janko is mistaken. Moses Freudenthal is not counting his treasures +at this moment. Indeed he would probably give up all that he possesses +without a sigh could he thereby rid his life of what has made him +poorer and more wretched than the beggar at his gates. He has taken +refuge in the large dusky sitting-room, into which no ray of sunlight, +and no sound of the human voice, can penetrate. He can now throw himself +into his arm-chair, and sob from the bottom of his heart without any one +asking him what is the matter; he can let his head fall upon his breast, +tear his hair, or cover his face with his hands.... He does not weep, or +pray, nor yet does he curse; he moans out in pain, the words echoing in +the quiet room, "How pleasant it was to hear the child's laugh!..." Thus +he sits alone in the twilight. At last he gets up and raises his eyes as +if in prayer—nay, rather as a man who demands a right. "O God!" he +cries, "I do not ask that she may come back to me, for I made my +servants drive her from my door; I do not ask that she may be happy, for +she has sinned grievously in the sight of God and man; I do not ask that +she may be unhappy, for she is my own flesh and blood; I only ask that +she may die, so that I may not have to curse my only child. Let her die, +O God, let her die, or let me!..."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the district judge is concluding his story in the room above. +"No one knows what has become of the pretty little girl. She is +forgotten; her father even doesn't seem to remember her existence. +They're a heartless race these Jews; they're all alike...."</p> + +<p>It has grown dusk in the town, but there is no gloom in the hearts of +its Jewish inhabitants. The dismal irregularly built houses of the +Ghetto are now enlivened by thousands of candles, and thousands of happy +faces. The Sabbath has begun in the hearts of these people and in their +rooms, a common and usual occurrence, and yet a mysterious and blessed +influence that drives away all that is poor and mean in everyday life. +To-day, every hovel is lighted up, and every heart made glad with +sufficiency of food. The teacher of the law has forgotten his hunger, +the water-carrier his hard work, the peddler the blows and derision that +continually fall to his lot, and the rich usurer his gain. To-day all +are equal; all are the happy trustful sons of the same Almighty Father. +The feeble light of the tallow-candle in its rude candlestick, and the +soft light of the wax-candle in the silver candelabra, illumine the same +picture. The daughters of the house and the little boys sit silently +watching their mother, as she, in obedience to the beautiful old custom +handed down from generation to generation, blesses the candles. The +father then takes the large prayer-book down from the book-shelf and +gives it to his eldest son to carry to the synagogue for him. After that +they all go out into the street, the men and women keeping apart, as the +strict law commands. Their words are few, and those they utter are grave +and quiet. To-day neither grief nor joy finds vent in speech, for all +hearts are full of the divine peace of the Sabbath....</p> + +<p>The large white house opposite the Dominican monastery is also +illuminated. But the candles were lighted by a stranger, for there is no +mistress there to speak the customary blessing. The finest linen covers +the tables in the best parlor, which is handsomely furnished, but no +child's merry laugh, and no loving word is heard there. The melancholy +sound of the sputtering candles alone disturbs the stillness.</p> + +<p>But the old man who now enters the room in his Sabbath suit has been +accustomed to this state of things for years—for five long years. At +first he used involuntarily to turn and listen for the sound of the +voice he loved so well; for it was on an evening such as this that his +child had left him. But this evening he crosses the room quickly, and +taking the heavy leather-bound prayer-book from the shelf, leaves the +room at once. Does he fear that to-day of all days the ghosts of the +past will come forth to meet him from every corner of the well-lighted +room?</p> + +<p>If that be the case, it is foolish to fly from them, Moses Freudenthal! +See, they dog your footsteps wherever you go through the narrow gloomy +little streets. They whisper in your ear, even though you strive to +drown their voices by entering into conversation with the passers-by. +They appear before your very eyes in spite of your fixing them upon the +votive tablets fastened to the pillars in the house of God! And when +you pass through the congregation and take your seat in your accustomed +place, they flutter around your head, look at you out of the very +letters of your prayer-book, and speak to you in the voice of the +officiating minister!...</p> + +<p>"Praise ye the Lord. Break out into joy, gladness, and song. For He +judgeth the world with righteousness and the people with His truth."</p> + +<p>"And the solitary," cries a secret voice in the heart of the unhappy +man, "shall He break in pieces!" His eyes are fixed upon his book, his +lips whisper the words of prayer; but he does not pray, he can not! The +whole of his past life rises ghost-like before his mental vision, and in +such vivid detail as to cause him intense agony....</p> + +<p>"He who can no longer pray," his old father had often told him, and now +the words involuntarily recur to him,—"He who can no longer pray shall +be cast out from before the face of the Eternal." He distinctly +remembers the day on which he had first heard those words. He was then a +boy of thirteen, and had been allowed to put on the phylacteries for the +first time, the sign that he had reached man's estate. The life that +opened out before him on that day was not easy and pleasant like that of +the fortunate of the earth, but hard and narrow as that endured by his +race. In common with every one around him, he had early learned to +dedicate his life to two objects, and these were—prayer and +money-making. When he was seventeen years of age his father had called +him into his room, and had then told him, in a calm matter-of-fact tone, +that he was to marry Chaim Grünstein's daughter Rosele in three months' +time. He did not know the girl. He had seen her, it is true, but he had +never really looked at her. His father had, however, chosen her to be +his wife, and he was satisfied that it was well. Three months later he +married Rosele....</p> + +<p>Hark! the Chazzân is beginning the ancient Sabbath hymn, whose words, +expressive of joy and longing, go straight to the heart—"Lecho daudi +likras kalle." And immediately the choir takes up the strain +triumphantly, "Lecho daudi likras kalle"—"Come, O friend, let us go +forth to meet the Bride, let us receive the Sabbath with joy!"</p> + +<p>Strange emotion to stir the spirit of a people to its very depths! +Strange that all the passion and sensuousness of which its heart and +mind are capable are expended on the adoration of the Divinity, and on +that alone. The same race whose genius gave birth to the Song of +Songs—the eternal hymn of love,—and to whom the world owes the story +of Ruth, the most beautiful idyl of womanhood ever known—has now, after +a thousand years of the night of oppression and wandering, learned to +look upon marriage as a mere matter of business, by which to secure some +pecuniary advantage, and as a means of preventing the chosen of the +Lord from dying off the face of the earth. These men know not what they +do—they have no suspicion of the sin of which they are guilty in thus +acting.</p> + +<p>Nor did Moses Freudenthal know it. He honored his wife as long as she +lived, and found in her a faithful helpmeet in joy and sorrow. A +blessing seemed to rest upon everything he did, for whatever he +undertook prospered. He studied the language of the Christians around +him with an eager determination to learn, and then began the arduous +task of learning German law: the man of thirty studied as hard as if he +had been a schoolboy. He was not actuated by the desire of gain alone, +but also by a love of honor and knowledge. And this knowledge bore +fruit; he became rich—very rich. The nobles and officers of the +neighborhood came to his house and bowed themselves down before the +majesty of his wealth; but before he had done with them, they were +forced to hold him in as much respect as his gold. In those days every +one envied him, and people used to whisper as he passed—"That is the +happiest man in the whole district."</p> + +<p>But was he really happy? If he were so, why did he often look gloomy, +and why did Rosele weep as if her heart would break, when she was sure +that no one could see her? A dark shadow rested on the married life of +this couple, who, in their daily intercourse, had gradually learned to +esteem each other. Their marriage was childless. As they had been +brought together by strangers, and were not even yet united in heart and +soul, they could not live down their sorrow, or find comfort in each +other's love. The proud man bore his grief in silence, and, unmoved, +watched his wife fading away before his very eyes. When his friends +spoke of a divorce, he shook his head, but no word of love for the +unhappy woman to whom he was bound ever crossed his lips. Years passed +away; but at last one evening—it was in winter—when he entered the +sitting-room, and wished his wife "good evening" as usual, instead of +answering softly, and glancing at him shyly and sadly, she hastened to +meet him, and clung to him as though she felt for the first time that +she had a right to his love. He gazed at her blushing excited face, his +surprise giving way to joyful anticipation; then taking her hand, he +drew her down to the seat beside him, and made her lay her head upon his +breast. Their lips trembled, but neither of them could find words to +express their joy—none seemed adequate!...</p> + +<p>"Praise ye the Lord!" These words of the minister roused Moses from his +dream of the past, and he hears the congregation reply, "Praised be the +Lord our God, who createth the day and createth the night, who +separateth the light from the darkness, and the darkness from the light: +praised be the Lord, the Almighty, the Eternal, the God of battles!..."</p> + +<p>"Praised be God!..." With what mixed feelings had Moses Freudenthal +joined in this cry of thanksgiving on that Sabbath evening twenty-two +years ago when he first entered the house of God a father! His heart +bled and rejoiced at the same moment; he wept with mingled joy and +sorrow, for a little daughter had indeed been born to him: but his +wife's strength had been unable to withstand her sufferings, and she had +died. She had borne her terrible agony with unmurmuring resignation; and +even when dying a happy smile passed over her pale face whenever she +heard the voice of her child. In those sad hours before the end the +hearts of the husband and wife, that had remained strangers to each +other during the long years of their married life, at length found each +other out. He alone understood why his wife said, "Now I can die in +peace;" she alone understood why he bent over her hand again and again, +sobbing, "Forgive me, Rosele; forgive me!" "The child," she said; "take +care of the child!" then she shivered and died. Next morning they +carried her out to the "good place." And he rent his garments, took the +shoes from off his feet, and sat on the floor of the chamber of death +for seven days and seven nights, thus fulfilling the days of mourning +after the manner of the children of Israel. He did not weep, but fixed +his sad tearless eyes on the flame of the funeral light which has to +burn for a whole week in order that the homeless spirit may have a +resting-place on earth until God shows it where it is henceforth to +dwell.</p> + +<p>"He is talking to the dead," whispered his relations in awe-struck +tones, when they saw his lips move, as he murmured, "All might have been +well now, and you are dead!"</p> + + +<p>His sorrow found relief in tears when they brought him the child, and +asked what it should be called. "Esther," he answered—"Esther, like my +mother." He held his little daughter long in his arms, and his tears +fell on her face. Then he gave the child back to her nurse, and from +that moment became calm and composed.</p> + +<p>When the days of mourning were over he returned to his business, and +worked harder than ever before. A new spirit seemed to possess him, and +every day he embarked in new and daring undertakings. He ventured to do +what no one else would attempt, and fortune remained true to him. He now +carried out the wish he had long nourished—bought the piece of land +opposite the Dominican monastery, and began to build a large house +there. He passed his days in unceasing labor; but in the evening he +would sit for hours at a time by his child's cradle, gazing at the soft +baby face. And in the first months after his bereavement, the nurse was +often startled by seeing him come noiselessly into the nursery in the +middle of the night, and watch and listen long to see if all were well +with the child.</p> + +<p>The days grew into months, the months into years, and little Esterka +became ever more remarkable for beauty and cleverness as time went on. +She was very like her father, for she had the same black curly hair, +high forehead, and determined mouth; but in strange and touching +contrast with the other features of the defiant little face, were the +gentle blue eyes she had inherited from her mother. The father often +looked at those eyes, and whenever he did so, he took his little girl in +his arms, pressed her to his heart, and called her by a thousand pet +names; but except at such times, the grave reserved man showed the child +few tokens of the almost insane love he bore her.</p> + +<p>When Esther was five years old they left the small house they had +formerly inhabited in the Ghetto, and went to live in the large white +house opposite the monastery. And after that Moses began to take +measures for the education of his daughter, who was to be brought up +according to old established usage. Esther learned to cook, to pray, and +to count—that was enough for the house, for heaven, and for life. And +what could her father have taught her in addition to this? Polish and +German, perhaps? She could speak both languages, and he, like every +other Jew in Barnow, regarded reading and writing as needless luxuries +for a girl. He had learned both in order that he might write his +business letters, and understand the book of civil law; his daughter did +not need to do either. Besides that, would greater knowledge make her a +better or happier woman? "When a Jewish girl knows how to pray"—has +come to be a proverb among these stern-natured men—"she needs nothing +more to make her good and happy!" And yet little Esther was to learn to +read German, and much more besides!...</p> + +<p>"It was in an hour of weakness," murmurs the old man, as he rises with +the rest of the congregation to take part in the long prayer, during +which all must stand—"of weakness and folly that I gave way. Woe unto +me for consenting, and cursed be he who led me astray!"</p> + +<p>How can you say so, Moses Freudenthal! However much your misfortunes may +have enlightened you, and taught you to know your own heart, you can not +even yet see that it was a sin you were committing in shutting out the +light of the world from your child, and that you did right when you +consented to permit another to reveal it to her. Oh, how you sin, old +man, when, hardening your heart in egotism and ignorance, you say, "That +was the cause of her misfortunes and of mine also! From that time +forward her mind was poisoned, and turned away from me and my God! +Cursed, cursed be that hour!"</p> + +<p>... But all this happened on a warm bright summer evening thirteen years +ago.... The moonlight lay on the houses and streets, and the very dust +on the road seemed to glitter like silver. Moses Freudenthal was sitting +on the stone seat at his door lost in thought. He felt strangely soft +hearted that evening; for whether he would or not, he could not help +living over again in memory the occurrences of his former life, and +thinking of his dead wife Rosele. His daughter, who was now nine years +old, was sitting beside him, gazing wide-eyed into the moonlit night. +Suddenly a man came up the street and stood looking at them. Moses did +not at once recognize him, but little Esther sprang to her feet with a +cry of joy—"Uncle Schlome! How glad I am that you have come to see us, +Uncle Schlome!"</p> + +<p>Moses now recognized the stranger, and rose in astonishment. What did +Schlome Grünstein want with him, and how had his daughter become +acquainted with the "Meschumed?" He was Rosele's brother, and had been +his playfellow in his boyhood, but Moses had not spoken to him for +twenty years; for a pious Jew could hold no communication with a +Meschumed, an apostate from the faith—and Schlome was an apostate in +the eyes of the Ghetto. And yet the pale, delicate-looking man, with the +gentle dreamy expression, had always remained a Jew, and had lived +quietly and peacefully among his neighbors, spending his wealth in works +of charity and mercy. But the name and the shame had cleaved to him from +his youth upward.</p> + +<p>His had been a strange boyhood. As he had been a shy, thoughtful child, +living only in his books, and showing no talent except in literary +things, his father determined to make him a Rabbi. Schlome was pleased +with this decision, and studied so hard to fit himself for his future +calling that he not only injured his health, but soon got beyond his +teacher. The delicate boy was consumed by an unquenchable thirst for +knowledge. And this thirst became the cause of his destruction, the +curse of his life. By means of money and passionate entreaties combined, +he induced the Christian schoolmaster of the place to teach him at night +and in secret. Thus he learned High German, the forbidden and much-hated +language of the Gentiles around him, and also "Christian theology." Of +the latter branch of learning the schoolmaster himself knew very little; +so he helped out his ignorance by lending his unwearied pupil many books +belonging to the Dominican library, and this he did before Schlome had +got over all the difficulties of learning to read. In this way the boy +read all manner of strange books, one on the top of the other, and often +enough, no doubt, put sufficiently curious interpretations upon them. At +last one day a book fell into his hands, which nearly drove him mad. The +form and tone were well known to him, for did they not enforce obedience +to the holy Thora (Law)? But the spirit that breathed in its pages was +another and—the youth's very blood seemed to freeze in his veins—a +milder and better than what he had known. For this book was the New +Testament. Its teaching seemed to him like the mild beauty of a spring +day, and yet his hair stood on end with horror. This, then, was the +idol-worship of the Christians,—this was the history of the life and +labors of that Man whom his father crucified, and from whose likeness he +had been taught to turn away his head in hatred and contempt! The blow +was too severe. Schlome became very ill, and lay for many weeks +dangerously sick of a fever. Often and often in his delirium the +unconscious youth wept and talked of the pale Nazarene, of the cross, +and of that ill-starred book. His parents and neighbors listened to his +ravings in horror; they searched into their cause, and at length +discovered Schlome's secret studies. Soon afterward a strange rumor was +circulated in the Ghetto, to the effect that Schlome Grünstein had +wished to become a Christian, and that as a punishment for this sin God +had visited him with madness. In course of time the youth recovered, and +went about among his brethren in the faith as usual; but henceforth he +seemed paler, shyer, and more depressed than before. No one knew what +inward conflicts he had to wage; but every child in the Jewish quarter +called him a Meschumed, and told how he had sworn a holy oath to his +father that he would only remain a Jew on two conditions—first, that +he might buy and read whatever books he chose; and second, that he might +remain unmarried. He kept his oath, even when the death of his parents +made him rich and independent. Thus he passed his life in the narrow, +gloomy Ghetto. He had only one friend, David Blum, a man who devoted his +life to tending the sick, and whose own story was both strange and sad. +But then he did not make him his friend till late in life, and lost him +soon afterward; for David Blum died, whether of low fever or of a broken +heart it were difficult to say. The Meschumed mourned his loss deeply. +It seemed to him as though a bit of his own heart had been buried with +his friend. And yet these men differed from each other as much in +character as in the circumstances that had moulded their lives. David +was strong and high-hearted, but quick-tempered and fantastic, so that +he broke down once for all when fate aimed a heavy blow at him; Schlome, +on the contrary, was weak and gentle, and endowed with a great power of +endurance which enabled him to bend under the blows of fate instead of +being broken by them. Thus he lived on in the midst of men and yet +terribly alone—the poor even hesitated to accept charity at his hands. +Still he loved all men, but especially children; and these alone +returned his affection, although they could seldom show it from fear of +their parents. He almost idolized little Esther, the only child of his +dead sister; and she loved him better than her grave, reserved father.</p> + +<p>Such was the man who came up to the bench on which Moses Freudenthal and +his daughter were seated on that lovely summer evening.</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to you, brother," he said, as Moses rose and looked at +him with a coldly questioning gaze. He then requested the child to go to +bed, and after she had left them, continued: "I want to speak to you +about many important things. Sit down beside me.... You needn't be +afraid! There isn't a creature to be seen in the street...."</p> + +<p>Moses sat down hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"It is about the child," resumed the Meschumed. "I have been thinking +long and earnestly about her, and when I chanced to see you this evening +as I was passing, I determined to say what I had to say at once. You +see, brother, the child is growing a big girl. She will be beautiful one +day; but what is more to the purpose at present, is, that her goodness +and intelligence are surprising in one so young. You have scarcely any +idea of the sort of questions she asks, and of the kind of thoughts that +little head contains—you'd hardly believe it, brother."</p> + +<p>"And how do you know?" interrupted Moses, in a harsh stern voice. "Did I +ever give you leave?..."</p> + +<p>"Don't let us discuss that point, if you please," replied Schlome, +raising his hand in deprecation, "don't let us discuss that point. I +could answer you boldly that Esther is my sister's child, and that I +have a right to love and care for her. But I will not answer you thus; +we have been kept apart long enough by angry words. And even if you tell +me that I am a stranger in your house, and by my own fault, too, I will +answer you nothing. Love is not alone induced by ties of blood, and the +world is not so rich in love that one can afford to cast any aside. +But—it isn't that you mean. You fear danger for your child; you fear +that I should try to undermine her faith. You feel less confidence in me +than in the lowest servant in your house."</p> + +<p>He ceased, but Moses made no reply. And yet the hard man's heart was +really touched when he once more heard the voice that had been so dear +to him in his boyhood. But he shook off his emotion, and when Schlome +repeated his question, answered with cold severity, "My servants are all +pious, and are stanch believers in the faith of their fathers." This he +said with his eyes fixed on the ground. Had he looked up he would have +seen his brother-in-law's lips tremble with bitter grief and +disappointment. And yet his answer was gentle.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Moses," he said; "it is written, and it is a true saying, 'By +their fruits ye shall know them.' Every incident of my life is known to +you, and to all our neighbors. I have always been terribly alone in the +world, forsaken of all men, but still I have striven with all my heart +and soul to unite my life to that of others. I have striven to make it +as useful as it was possible for it to be after the blight that had +fallen upon it. You are the first person to whom I have ever said this, +and you will be the last who will ever hear from me that I know I have +acted toward my fellow-men with as much beneficence—as it is called—as +I could; and yet, what is such beneficence in reality but the duty every +man owes to his kind? I have not, therefore, lived either a happy or a +good life; but judge, Moses, I entreat of you, whether it shows either +folly or sin?"</p> + +<p>Moses passed his hand slowly across his forehead and eyes, as though to +give himself time for thought.</p> + +<p>Then he answered more mildly:</p> + +<p>"No man can judge a whole life with a righteous judgement; God, who +knows all, can alone do so. I am willing to believe it is as you say, +and it is well for you that you can thus justify your life. For you can +thus wait quietly for the hour when God Himself will judge you. But"—he +interrupted himself, and then continued, almost shyly—"<i>do</i> you believe +in God?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Schlome, raising his head; "yes, I believe in Him. I +sought Him in my boyhood, when I imagined that he was a God of wrath and +vengeance, the light and refuge of one people alone; I sought Him in my +youth, when I imagined that He was a God of love and mercy, who yet was +only gracious to those who worshiped Him with certain forms and +ceremonies. Later on, I really found Him and knew Him as He is. He is +neither a God of wrath nor of mercy, but a God of justice and necessity; +He <i>is</i>, and all are in Him, even those who deny Him...."</p> + +<p>He had risen in his excitement, and as he stood in the moonlight before +Moses, the latter felt strangely moved; it seemed to him almost as if +Schlome's face shone. He did not know how it happened, but he could not +help looking at the image of Christ opposite to him in the monastery +garden, which stood out sharp and distinct in the clear pale light +against the dark sky. "And He over there?" he asked, almost fearing the +words he had uttered.</p> + +<p>"He," answered the Meschumed, his voice sounding strangely soft and +gentle, "He was a great and noble man, perhaps the best man that ever +lived. But He is dead, and His spirit has died out—died out even in +those who call Him their Redeemer! The fools! Through himself alone can +man be redeemed—through himself and in himself...."</p> + +<p>He ceased, and Moses was silent also.</p> + +<p>The two men sat side by side for some time without speaking, each busied +with his own thoughts.</p> + +<p>At length Moses asked: "And what do you want with the child?"</p> + +<p>"I want to be her teacher," replied Schlome, "for I have learned to love +her dearly in the few interviews I dared to have with her. And believe +me—she is no common child! Oh, had she only been a boy! I have often +thought; and then, again, I have been thankful she was a girl—you can +guess why, perhaps. She has a real hunger for knowledge, and a strange +longing for the light of truth...."</p> + +<p>Here the other interrupted him impatiently. "You are dreaming, +Schlome!... Esther is scarcely nine years old, and I, her own father, +have noticed nothing of the kind in her."</p> + +<p>"Because you wouldn't see it," was the answer; "because you wouldn't see +it, or, forgive me, couldn't see it. You look upon it as dreaming or +folly, or else think it childish. But I know what it is for a young +heart to have to bear that longing alone. Believe me, it would be a sin +to let it die out for want of food. I therefore beg of you to allow me +to be Esther's teacher!"</p> + +<p>There was another long silence between the men.</p> + +<p>At length Moses answered: "I can not, brother, and I dare not if I +would. It isn't because of you that I say this—I believe that you are +good, and that you would only teach the child what is good. But it would +not be suitable for my daughter. I wish her to remain a simple Jewish +girl; I wish it, and it must be so. Why should she learn what may make +her sad, and discontented with her lot? My daughter is to grow up a +pious, simple-minded woman; it is best for her that it should be so, and +that is my reason for refusing your request. I have already arranged +that she should marry a rich and honorable man."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Meschumed, and, for the first time during this +conversation, his voice sounded bitter and hard—"yes; you are rich and +have the right to do as you will: you have therefore arranged that you +should have a rich son-in-law. The girl is now nine years old; in six or +seven years' time you will give her to the wealthiest and most pious +youth in the district, or perhaps to a widower who is even richer and +more pious. She will not know him, but what of that? she will have +plenty of time to make his acquaintance after marriage! Then she will +probably fear him, or hate him, or else he will be indifferent to her. +But what of that? What does a Jewish woman want with love? What more +does she need but to love God, and her children, and—let me not forget +to mention it—her little possessions?..."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," said Moses, hesitating and astonished.</p> + +<p>"You do not understand me!" cried the other, springing up excitedly. +"Can <i>you</i> say that—<i>you</i>? O Moses, think of my sister...."</p> + +<p>Moses Freudenthal started like a wild creature shot to the heart. He +wanted to answer angrily, to order Schlome to leave him at once and for +ever; but he could not do it. His eyes involuntarily sank before those +of the despised Meschumed: after a long and hard struggle with himself +he felt constrained to answer low and sadly, "It was not my fault."</p> + +<p>"No," replied the other, gently; "no, it was not your fault; it was that +of your father and mine. But remember that you, and you only, will be +responsible for what you do with your child."</p> + +<p>He paused a while, and then finding that Moses was too deeply moved to +be able to answer, went on: "Do not harden your heart, lest you be +tempted to evil. Remember what is written, 'Give to the thirsty to +drink.' Brother, will you allow me to show your child the light and life +for which her whole nature thirsts?"</p> + +<p>Moses was unable to answer, but next day a strange rumor was afloat in +the Ghetto, to the effect that Moses Freudenthal had become reconciled +to Schlome, the Meschumed, and had permitted him to teach his only +child!...</p> + +<p>It is of that hour that the lonely old man in the synagogue is thinking, +and it is that hour which he curses from the bottom of his soul. The +remembrance of it follows him as he rises with the rest of the +congregation and goes out into the spring night. The narrow streets are +full of life; the houses are lighted up; the children and young girls +are standing in the doorway of their homes waiting for the return of +their parents. The unhappy man tortures himself as he walks with the +thought of how different everything would be if he were now going home +with his son-in-law and his daughter, to be greeted by his grandchildren +at the gate. Every child's laugh, every word of welcome that he hears, +cuts him to the heart. Ah, well! Perhaps he is not so very much to blame +when he mutters below his breath, "If God is just, he will punish him +who gained the heart of my child only to lead her astray, and him also +who opened her ears to the words of the tempter!..."</p> + +<p>At this moment he feels a hand laid upon his shoulder, and, turning +round to see who it is, starts back as though he saw a ghost. His breath +comes thick and fast, his eyes flash, and he clinches his fist. The man +he has just cursed stands before him—a sickly, broken old man—Schlome, +the Meschumed.</p> + +<p>"I must speak to you," he says to Moses. "I have a letter...."</p> + +<p>"Silence, wretch!" cries the other, half mad with rage and misery. +"Silence .... I will not listen.... May you words choke...."</p> + +<p>A crowd collects round the two men.</p> + +<p>The Meschumed advances a few steps nearer his brother-in-law, and +repeats: "I must speak to you. Curse me if you like, but listen to me. +She is...."</p> + +<p>Before he can utter another word, Moses has turned and rushed away. He +flies like a hunted creature through the narrow streets, across the +market-place, and up to his own house. There he sinks half fainting on +the stone seat by the door. He sits still, waiting till his breathing +becomes more regular, and his pulses beat less quickly. Then all at once +he thinks he hears some one mention his name. The first-floor windows +are lighted up and widely opened; loud laughter can be heard within the +room. Frau Kasimira Lozinska is having an "at home" this evening. Now he +hears it again quite distinctly: his name, and then a burst of laughter. +He pays no attention to it, but goes into his parlor and sits down, +silently pushing away the food and drink the old housekeeper sets before +him. "She is dead!"—these words seem to ring in his ears and heart—"of +course—she is dead!"</p> + +<p>Thus he sits alone in the brilliantly lighted room in a tumult of wild +thoughts, of passionate internal conflict. All around him is hushed; the +melancholy sputtering of the numerous candles is the only sound to be +heard.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The wife of the district judge has an "at home" to-night.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen are in the ante-room playing at whist and <i>tarok</i>, and +perhaps a little innocent game of hazard. The ladies in the drawing-room +are seated round a large tea-table, drinking tea out of enormous cups, +eating sweet cakes of all kinds, and talking a great deal. The only +person at all out of humor is the fat wife of the fat estate agent. She +is accustomed to be the principal lady in Barnow, but is dethroned for +to-day by the wife of a beggarly Government official—i. e., the new +registrar. For Frau Emilie comes from Lemberg, the capital of the +province, and has brought with her not only the latest fashions in +dress, but also a number of piquant stories. In return for these, she is +of course told all the scandals of Barnow that relate to any lady who +happens not to be present at the time. But that amusement soon comes to +an end, as almost every one of any standing is at Frau Kasimira's this +evening. Then, as luck will have it, Frau Emilie asks to be told the +curious story her husband has heard about from the district judge that +day.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you that story better than any one else," answers her +hostess, eagerly. "We have lived in this house for the last twelve +years, and I know everything that happened. It is very interesting, for +a handsome hussar is the hero of the tale. I'm sure that you can not +have heard anything like it in Lemberg."</p> + +<p>She then goes on to relate as follows:</p> + +<p>"Well, as you know already, the story is about Esterka, the daughter of +the Jew to whom this house belongs. She was ten years old when we came +here, and tall of her age, with black hair and large blue eyes. She was +scarcely ever to be seen, and never to be heard: she used to sit over +her books all day long, and often far into the night. My daughter +Malvina, who was about the same age, used to ask her to come and play +with her; but the proud little Jewish girl wouldn't accept any of her +invitations, she was so taken up with her reading. It was very foolish +of her, and her uncle Grünstein was at the bottom of it all. Old +Grünstein is a very queer sort of man—most disagreeable to have +anything to do with, I should say: he's neither Jew nor Christian—quite +an infidel, in fact; indeed, some people go so far as to say that he can +raise the dead when he likes. Yes, I mean what I say! He can raise the +very dead from their graves! And he was Esterka's teacher. He must have +given her a nice sort of education, for at the end of three years she +was every bit as foolish and godless as himself. To give you an example +of this, let me tell you what happened one very hot August afternoon +when she was with us. You must know that she embroidered beautifully, so +we had asked her to come and help Malvina to finish a bit of work. As we +sat at our sewing the clouds began to come up thick and fast, and soon +afterward there was a terrible storm; it thundered, lightened, and +hailed with the greatest possible fury. My daughter, who, thank God, had +received the education of a good Catholic, began to pray aloud; but the +Jewess remained calm and cool. 'Esther,' I said, 'aren't you afraid of +the judgement of God?'—'A thunder-storm isn't a judgement of God,' +answered the conceited little thing.—'Well, then, what do you call the +lightning?' I asked.—'A discharge of atmospheric electricity,' was her +reply.—'Aren't you afraid of the lightning, then?'—'Oh, yes,' she +answered, 'because we haven't a lightning-conductor on the house!'—I +couldn't possibly allow such godless sentiments to pass unreproved, as +Malvina was there, so I said very sternly: 'You're a little infidel, +child; remember this, the good God guides every flash of +lightning!'—'How can that be?' answered Miss Impudence. 'The poor +peddler, Berisch Katz, was killed by lightning last year, when he was +crossing the open fields, although he was a very good man; and now that +he is dead, his children haven't enough to eat.'—I said nothing more at +the time, but next day, when I happened to see old Moses, I told him the +whole story. 'The child is having a nice sort of education,' I said in +conclusion, 'and if this kind of thing goes on, who knows what the end +of it will be?'—'It shall not go on,' he replied; 'I had made up my +mind to put a stop to it before, and what you tell me determines me to +do so at once.'—He was as good as his word, and took away all of +Esther's books. Then he put her in the shop, and made her weigh the +sugar and sell the groceries. As for Schlome, he turned him out of the +house.</p> + +<p>"All this took place nine years ago last summer. One Sabbath afternoon +in the following autumn Esther came to my daughter and entreated her +with tears to lend her a German book, or else she would die. She said +that her father had taken away every one of her books, and looked after +her so strictly that she couldn't herself get any to take their place. +He did not, however, go so far as to prevent her visiting us. Our +acquaintance was an honor to the girl, and besides that, he knew that I +was a woman of principle. Well, as I said before, Esther wept and +entreated in such a heart-rending manner that I was touched. So I lent +her some German books that I happened to have in the house: Heine's +'Reisebilder,' Klopstock's 'Messiade,' 'Kaiser Joseph,' by Louise +Mühlbach, the new 'Pitaval,' Eichendorf's poems, and the novels of Paul +de Kock. She read them all, devouring them much as a hungry wolf does a +lamb. She read them in the shop whenever her father's back was turned, +and at night when she went to her room. The only book she didn't like +was the first novel of Paul de Kock; she brought it back to me, and +asked me to find her something else. But I hadn't time to do so then, so +I said: 'Read it, child, read it; you'll like it when once you've fairly +begun.' I was right; she liked it so much that she never offered to give +back the second novel, and after the third, she wanted to finish all by +that author before reading anything else. I was able to gratify her, as +we have the whole of his works. She devoured the hundred and eighty +volumes in the course of one winter. For, I can assure you, these Jewish +girls have no moral feeling...!"</p> + +<p>The ladies all agree in regarding this statement as true. The +estate-agent's wife is the only one who does not join in the chorus. For +though she is very fat and rather stupid, she has a good heart.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't right," she says very distinctly and very gravely. "You have +a great deal to answer for."</p> + +<p>The Frau Kasimira looks at her in silent astonishment. If she were not a +very courteous woman, a woman of the world, and, above all, if it were +not her own house, she would smile sarcastically and shrug her +shoulders. As it is, she contents herself with saying apologetically, +"Mon Dieu! she was only a Jewess!"</p> + +<p>"Only a Jewess!" repeats the chorus of ladies aloud, and also in a +whisper. Many of them laugh as they say ... "only a Jewess!"</p> + +<p>"Only a Jewess!" is echoed in a grave deep voice. The games in the +ante-room, are finished, and the gentlemen have rejoined the ladies +unnoticed. "You have made a great mistake, madam."</p> + +<p>It is the doctor of Barnow who speaks, a tall stately man. He is a Jew +by birth. He is hated because of his religion, and feared because of +his power of sarcasm. His position obliges these people to receive him +into their society, and he accepts their invitations because theirs is +the only society to be had in the dull little country town.</p> + +<p>"You have made a mistake," he repeats, addressing the estate-agent's +wife. "You have never been able to throw off the prejudices of your +German home, where people look upon a Jew as a human being. It is very +foolish of you not to have learned to look upon the subject from the +Podolian point of the view!"</p> + +<p>"Laugh as much as you like," says his hostess quickly. "I still maintain +that an uneducated Jewess has very little moral feeling!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," is the dry answer, "especially when she has been put through a +course of Paul de Kock—has been given the whole of his works without +exception. But, pray, don't let me interrupt you; go on with your +story."</p> + +<p>Frau Kasimira continues:</p> + +<p>"Very well; where did I leave off? Oh, I remember now. She had finished +Kock by the spring. I had no more German books to lend her; so she +begged me to subscribe to the Tarnapol lending library for her, and I at +length consented to do so. I didn't like it at all, but she entreated me +to do it so piteously, that I must have had a heart of stone to refuse. +She read every one of the books in the library, beginning with About and +ending with Zschokke. Her father had no suspicion of the truth, and he +never knew it. She used only to read in the night when she went to her +bedroom. The exertion did not hurt her eyes at all. She had most +beautiful eyes, large and blue—blue as the sky. As to her figure, it +was queenly, slender, upright, and rounded. In short, she was +lovely—very lovely. But at the same time she was a silly romantic girl, +who thought that real life was like the novels she used to devour. When +she was sixteen her father told her that he wished her to marry a son of +Moschko Fränkel from Chorostko, a handsome Jewish lad of about her own +age. She said she would rather die than marry him. But old Freudenthal +isn't a man to jest with. The betrothal took place, and beautiful Esther +sat at the feast pale and trembling as though she were about to die. I +had gone down-stairs to see the ceremony from curiosity. My heart is not +a very soft one, but when I saw Esther looking so miserable, I really +felt for the girl. 'Why are you forcing your daughter to marry against +her will?' I asked the old man. He answered me abruptly, almost rudely, +I thought: 'Pardon me; you don't understand; our ways are different from +your ways. We don't look upon the chicken as wiser than the hen. And, +thank God, we know nothing of love and of all that kind of nonsense. We +consider that two things are alone requisite when arranging a marriage, +and these are health and wealth. The bride and bridegroom in this case +possess both. I've given in to Esther so far as to consent that the +marriage should be put off for a year. That will give her time to learn +to do her duty. Many changes take place in a year.'</p> + +<p>"The old man was right. Many changes take place in a year. The greatest +possible change had taken place in beautiful Esterka, but it was not the +change that her father had expected or wished to see. Look here, the +doctor there looks upon me as hating all Jews, but I am perfectly just +to them, and I tell you that the girl, although inwardly depraved, had +hitherto conducted herself in the most praiseworthy manner. And yet her +temptations must have been very great. She was known throughout the +whole district, and every one called her the 'beautiful Jewess.' The inn +and bar down-stairs had more visitors than Moses cared for. When the +young nobles of the district came to Barnow on magisterial business, +they spread out the work they had to do over three days, instead of +contenting themselves with one as before; the unmarried lawyers and +custom-house officials spent their whole time at the bar; and as for the +hussar officers, they took up their quarters there altogether. These +men, one and all, paid their court to Esther, but she never wasted a +thought upon one of them. Her father kept her as much as possible out of +the way of his customers. When she met them, she returned their greeting +courteously, but was as if deaf to their compliments and flattery. And +if any one was rude to her, she was quite able to defend herself. Young +Baron Starsky found that out to his cost—you know him, don't you? A +tall fair man, and the hero of that queer story about Gräfin Jadwiga +Bortynska. Well, he once met Esther as he was leaving the bar-parlor +rather the worse for wine. He will never forget that meeting, because of +the tremendous box on the ear that she gave him.</p> + +<p>"There was a change in her after her engagement. Not that she was on +more friendly terms with these men than before, but that she no longer +rebuffed one of their number. This favored individual was a captain in +the Würtemberg Hussars, Graf Géza Szapany by name. He was like a hero of +romance: tall, slight, and interesting-looking, with dark hair, black +eyes, and a lovely little mustache. This is no flattering portrait, I +can assure you; our friend Hortensia will bear witness that I do not +exaggerate, she used to know him too...."</p> + +<p>Frau Hortensia, a handsome blonde, and wife of the assistant judge of +the district, blushes scarlet, and casts an angry look at her "friend" +and hostess, but forces herself to answer indifferently, "Ah yes, to be +sure, I remember him.... He was a good-looking man."</p> + +<p>"Good-looking," repeats Frau Kasimira. "He was more than that. He was +very handsome; and so interesting! His manners were perfect. He +thoroughly understood the art of making himself agreeable to women; but +that was natural enough, for he had had plenty of experience. Beautiful +Esterka was soon caught in his toils. He approached her almost shyly, +and spoke to her with the utmost respect; and more than all, he paid her +no compliments. That helped on his cause wonderfully. And then you +mustn't forget what I told you before, that she was depraved at heart, +and foolishly romantic. The affair ran the usual course. At first a few +meetings, then many; at first but a few words were exchanged, afterward +many; at first one kiss, then many more.... It was very amusing!"</p> + +<p>Every one present seems to regard it in the same light as Frau Kasimira. +The ladies giggle and the gentleman laugh. One lady alone remains +grave—and she is the fat, kind-hearted German woman sitting in the +corner of the sofa.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to be amused by the story," observes the doctor, who is +sitting beside her.</p> + +<p>"No," she answers. "It is a very sad story. The poor girl was a victim."</p> + +<p>"Yes," says the doctor, his voice sounding deep and low with suppressed +feeling, "she was a victim. But she was not a victim of the handsome +hussar, nor even of our kind hostess here. The cause of her ruin lies +deeper, much deeper than that. As the twilight is more eerie than +complete darkness, so a half education is more dangerous than absolute +ignorance. Darkness and ignorance alike lay a bandage over the eyes and +prevent the feet from straying beyond the threshold of the known; +knowledge and light open the eyes of man and enable him to advance +boldly on the path that lies before him; while half knowledge and +twilight only remove part of the bandage and leave him to grope about +blindly, perhaps even cause him to fall! Poor child! she was snatched +away from the pure stream, and her thirst was so great that she strove +to slake it in any puddles she passed on the way. Poor child! She...."</p> + +<p>Here a yawn interrupts the speaker. The fat woman is thoroughly good and +kind, but she is by no means intellectual, and hates having to listen to +what she does not understand.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Frau Kasimira continues as follows:</p> + +<p>"So Graf Géza soon succeeded in gaining complete influence over her. And +when he left this to be stationed at Marburg, she followed him there. +One Friday evening—just like to-day—when Moses came home, he found the +nest empty. There was a great uproar down-stairs. They called her, +sought her everywhere with tears—no words can describe the scene. My +husband went down-stairs—Moses raged like a madman. It all happened +five years ago, but I shall never forget that night....</p> + +<p>"The next few days were very uncomfortable and queer. They all went on +as if Esther were dead. The shop and bar were both closed; the pictures +were hung with black; the mirrors were turned with their faces to the +wall. A small lamp was burnt in a corner of her room for seven days and +seven nights, and during the whole of that time Moses sat on the floor +of the room barefoot and with his clothes torn. I don't know whether it +is true, but I heard that the Jews took an empty coffin to the cemetery +on the Sunday following, and then filled in an empty grave. I have been +told that they even went so far as to put up a gravestone to Esther! On +the eighth day Moses rose up and went quietly about his business again. +These Jews are such strange creatures! Only fancy! he came to us that +very day to ask for his rent. I scarcely recognized him—his hair had +turned quite gray in the course of a week. His manner was quiet and +composed, and he seems to have forgotten all about his daughter now. But +as everybody knows, the Jews are fonder of their money than of their +children!"</p> + +<p>"Has no one heard anything more about Esther?" asks the fat woman.</p> + +<p>"Yes—once. But what we heard wasn't much to be relied on. Little +Lieutenant Szilagy—you remember what fibs he used to tell—went to +spend his leave in Hungary on one occasion, and when he came back, he +declared that he had seen Graf Géza and Esther in a box in the National +Theatre at Pesth. But the little man tells so many lies that one never +knows how much to believe. It may quite well have been some other pretty +girl."</p> + +<p>"Do you know," says Frau Emilie, the highly educated lady from Lemberg, +"do you know what this story reminds me of? Of a very amusing play I +once saw acted in Lemberg. It was translated from the English of a +certain ... oh dear! these English names...."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you mean Shakespeare?" inquires the doctor, coming to the +rescue.</p> + +<p>"Shakespeare," repeats the district judge; "he's a rather well-known +poet."</p> + +<p>"Yes; a very talented man!" says the doctor, with the utmost gravity.</p> + +<p>"You're right—Shakespeare!" continues Frau Emilie; "and the play was +called 'The Merchant of Venice.' There is a Jew in it, Shylock by name, +whose daughter also ran away, and who, like Moses, was far fonder of his +money than of his child. I therefore propose that we should no longer +call the Freudenthal of to-day by his own name, but instead of +that"—the speaker makes a long pause—"the Shylock—of Barnow!"</p> + +<p>The registrar feels very proud of his clever wife. The gentlemen laugh, +the ladies titter, and even the estate-agent's fat wife smiles as they +one and all repeat:</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! The Shylock of Barnow!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But they do not laugh next morning. They never laugh at Shylock +again—neither they nor any one else.</p> + +<p>The wan pale light of the Sabbath morning dawns upon a woful sight. It +is a damp, misty, disagreeable morning. The wind, which had risen at +midnight, and had driven the heavy black clouds across the sky, covering +the moon as though with a pall, has fallen; but the clouds are heavier +and blacker than ever, and a thick cold mist inwraps the whole plain and +the gloomy little town.</p> + +<p>All sleep soundly in the small houses of the Ghetto. Not a step is to be +heard in the narrow streets. The dogs in the courtyards, and the +night-watchman in front of the town-hall, are alone awake. The latter is +usually asleep at this hour, but the dogs are making too much noise to +allow him even to fall into a doze. They are barking furiously. The dogs +at the town-gate are the first to begin it, then the watch-dog at the +monastery takes up the chorus, and lastly, Moses Freudenthal's black +"Britan" joins in the uproar. The wise watchman therefore makes up his +mind that some stranger is passing the monastery and going toward the +Jew's house. But it never occurs to him to go and see who it is. The +mist makes the morning very dark, and the streets very slippery. So the +guardian of Barnow remains quietly in his little box in front of the +town-hall. "Britan is barking so loud," he says to himself, consolingly, +"that the Jew can't help hearing him."</p> + +<p>He is not mistaken. The people in Freudenthal's house hear the furious +barking. The old housekeeper gets up to see what is the matter, and to +call the man-servant. As she passes her master's room, she notices a +light under the door, and, on hearing the sound of her footsteps, old +Moses comes out. He is still dressed; he has evidently not yet gone to +bed, although it is nearly two o'clock in the morning. He looks +thoroughly worn-out.</p> + +<p>"Go back to bed," he says to the old woman; "I will go myself and see if +anything is wrong."</p> + +<p>At the same moment the dog again barks furiously, and then all at once +begins to whine and utter short barks of joy. They hear the huge +creature jumping about and scratching at the outer door. He has +evidently recognized the person who has come up to the house, and is +trying to get to him.</p> + +<p>The old man turns as pale as death. "Who can it be?" he murmurs. Then he +proceeds with tottering steps toward the entrance-hall. The housekeeper +prepares to follow him, but he exclaims "Go away" so passionately, that +she draws back. He takes no candle with him, for it is the Sabbath; so +he feels his way to the house-door.</p> + +<p>The old woman stands and listens. She hears the dog spring forward to +meet his master, and then run with joyous whines toward the outer door.</p> + +<p>Then she hears Moses ask, "Who is there?"</p> + +<p>All is still. The dog alone utters a short bark.</p> + +<p>Moses repeats his question.</p> + +<p>An answer comes from without. The housekeeper can not hear what it is. +It sounds to her like a cry of pain.</p> + +<p>But the old man must have understood. He opens the heavy outer door, +steps out, and shuts it behind him. The dog has apparently slipped out +at the same time as his master, for the housekeeper can hear the stifled +sound of his bark.</p> + +<p>Then Moses's voice becomes audible; he speaks very loudly and +passionately. What he says sounds at first like scolding, and then like +a solemn curse or conjuration. But the old woman can not hear the +words.... No mortal ear hears the words that Moses Freudenthal addresses +to the person who had knocked at his door that dismal night.</p> + +<p>After a minute of suspense, the housekeeper hears the outer door creak. +Moses is coming back. He returns alone. The dog has remained outside.</p> + +<p>There is a moment's silence; and then the housekeeper hears a heavy +fall.</p> + +<p>She seizes the candle—what does she care in her terror about the old +pious custom?—and hastens to the door. There lies Moses Freudenthal, +motionless and pale as death. She raises his head; he breathes +stertorously.</p> + +<p>On perceiving this, the old woman utters a loud shriek. The man-servant +and shopman, wakened by her cry, hasten to the spot. They lifted their +master, and, carrying him to his room, put him to bed. Then one of them +goes for the doctor of the district, who lives close by on the first +floor. He bleeds the sick man, but shakes his head as he does so. The +old man has had a stroke.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper weeps, the men stand about the room awkwardly, not +knowing whether to go or stay, and the doctor attends to his patient.</p> + +<p>Thus the hours pass slowly, and the morning comes. No one remembers the +stranger who had knocked at the door in the night.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning a loud knocking is heard at the door. The +night-watchman stands without, accompanied by several people who have +come in early to the market. They have found a poorly-dressed, +half-starved-looking young woman lying dead at the door. Black Britan is +lying beside the corpse, whining, and licking its hands. When any one +tries to approach, he growls and shows his teeth.</p> + +<p>The doctor goes on and bends over the dead woman. He lays his hand on +her heart; it has ceased to beat. He then looks at the pale, worn face, +and recognizes it at once.</p> + +<p>He rises sadly, and orders the corpse to be taken to the dead-house. He +then returns to the sick man, who still lies senseless.</p> + +<p>Next day they bury Esther Freudenthal. No one knows what her religion +had been—whether she had remained a Jewess, or had become a Christian. +Not even her uncle Schlome, who cowers down by her bier in a stupor of +grief. So they bury her where suicides are laid; and yet she had died of +starvation.</p> + +<p>A packet of letters is found in her pocket. They are all written in the +same hand, and bear the same superscription—Géza. The last of these +letters, which is stamped with the post-mark of a small Hungarian town, +contains the following lines: "I tell you honestly that I am tired of +the whole thing. I am now with my regiment, and advise you not to +attempt to follow me. My sergeant, Koloman, has promised to marry you. +He likes you. If you don't like him, you had better go home."</p> + +<p>She did go home.</p> + +<p>Old Moses does not die in consequence of the occurrences of that night. +He lives on for a long time; he outlives his brother-in-law, and many +happy people. He lives a gloomy, solitary, mysterious life. When he +dies, the only people who weep for him are the mourning-women who have +been hired for the purpose. He leaves his great fortune to the +wonder-working Rabbi of Sadagóra, the most jealous opponent of light, +the most fanatical supporter of the old dark faith.</p> + +<p>This is the story of Moses Freudenthal, whom they called the "Shylock of +Barnow."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHANE" id="CHANE"></a>CHANE.</h2> + +<h3>(1873.)</h3> + + +<p>Many years have passed since poor Esther Freudenthal died at her +father's feet. Moses has also been dead for a long time. The large white +house opposite the Dominican monastery, which now belongs to the Rabbi +of Sadagóra, looks quite as grand and well cared for as when it was +owned by the stern, unhappy old man. An oval plate now hangs above the +door, on which a black eagle is painted on a yellow shield, and round +the edge are the words, "Royal and Imperial District Court." Petty +thieves, Polish rebels, and Jewish usurers are brought to trial where +Moses and his daughter had lived and suffered. These public offices +occupy the ground-floor on the right of the entrance-door. The shop +formerly kept by old Moses still remains on the left hand, but another +name is now painted above the door—"Nathan Silberstein, Grocer and +Wine-Merchant." Two words of the inscription were wrongly spelt; but +that was the fault of humpbacked little Janko, who painted the sign.</p> + +<p>The new owner has made no changes on the first floor, which is still let +to the doctor and district judge. The district judge is, however, +different from the one Moses Freudenthal knew. Herr Julko von Negrusz +has succeeded Herr Hippolyt Lozinski, with the yellow face and +attenuated figure. He differs from his predecessor in every respect. +Herr Lozinski considered the Jews his prey, rich and poor alike; and +what he extorted from them he gave to poor Christians—such as the +nobles, officials, and officers. His wife, Kasimira, who came of the +noble family of Cybulski—which name in English means Onion—was +celebrated for five German miles around Barnow for three +peculiarities—her debts, her brilliant toilets, and her love of +dancing. She deceived her husband so openly, that people wondered how he +could continue to cock his hat so jauntily on his long yellow head.</p> + +<p>But all this is changed.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz extorts nothing from the Jews, nor does he give great +feasts to the Christians. He lives entirely in his office, and for his +lovely young wife and two pretty boys. His wife is very beautiful. Her +figure is straight and slender, and though her carriage is proud, she is +extremely graceful. Her features are finely cut, and her dreamy dark +eyes are unfathomably deep. But her most striking beauty is her rich +olive complexion. Her appearance conjures up Zuleima and Zuleika, and +the enchanted beauties of the East; but it must be observed that the +district judge's wife wears a cross upon a chain round her throat, and +that she has printed upon her calling-cards, "Christine von Negrusz."</p> + +<p>Strange to say, these cards form her sole connection with other people. +She has no visitors, and she visits no one. Between her and the world of +Barnow there is a limit of acquaintance, past which neither she nor +they try to step.</p> + +<p>If some public functionary sent to Barnow happens to be a married man, +he is carefully instructed by his colleagues to borrow the old carriage +and horses of old Herr von Wolanski, and drive with his wife to the +large white house. Arrived there, he is to send in cards, and is warned +that the customary answer received on such occasions is, that the +district judge is not at home, and that <i>gnädige Frau</i> is not well. In +the course of a week Herr von Negrusz and his wife drive in the same +carriage to return the visit, and the ceremony is acted over again with +the parts reversed. All intercourse then ceases between the two +families. This custom is invariable.</p> + +<p>Another curious circumstance is, that Frau von Negrusz never goes out of +the house alone. Once or twice a week she takes a walk with her husband. +The inhabitants of Barnow are accustomed to walk in the new park +surrounding the castle of Gräfin Jadwiga Bortynska, <i>née</i> Polanska. +Unlike other people, the district judge and his wife always take their +constitutional in the deserted garden by the river-side, and close to +the old castle. The direct road to these pleasure-grounds is through the +Jews' quarter; but this unsociable pair avoid the nearest way, and +choose rather to go all round the outskirts of the town. One might have +supposed their reason to have been that they wished to escape the dust +and bad odors of the Ghetto; but this hardly accounts for it, as when +once caught in a storm, they made the same long round in the pouring +rain.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz looks everybody pluckily in the face, and never avoids +meeting his friends; why should his wife be so unsociable, and what +proscription separates her from the rest of the world?</p> + +<p>You have only to ask the gossip and newsmonger of Barnow—the +magnificent Frau Emilie, wife of the new registrar. Her husband has +lived ten years in Barnow, but he is still called the "new registrar," +to distinguish him from his colleague, who has been there twice as long. +Frau Emilie will show you a calling-card, and answer as follows: "How +can one associate with such a person? Look at her card—why has she not +had it printed in the proper way, with her maiden name in the usual +place? Because it would not look well to put 'Christine von Negrusz, +<i>née</i> Bilkes, <i>divorcée</i> Silberstein.' Her real name is Chane, her +father is Nathan Bilkes, and another Nathan—Nathan Silberstein—is her +first husband. Negrusz is eccentric. First he wanted to marry the +daughter of a millionaire, an Armenian baron, and when this was +forbidden, he suddenly comforted himself by falling in love with the +rather good-looking Jewess, and he bought her from her husband...."</p> + +<p>"Bought?" you will ask with surprise—"for money—for hard cash?"</p> + +<p>"Of course—why not?" your informant will reply. "Are you really +surprised? To a Jew everything is salable—even a wife. It is said that +Negrusz had to pay down a thousand gulden. If you do not believe me, ask +every one in Barnow, or, better still, ask Nathan Silberstein how much +he got. He is a wine-merchant, and though he is continually traveling +about, he is sure to be at home for the great feasts. He will tell you +that he gave her up to the district judge willingly. Now, I ask you, can +we associate with such a woman?"</p> + +<p>Emilie, the magnificent, is right for the most part. Frau Christine was +really Chane, and she had been Chane Bilkes, and afterward Chane +Silberstein. The wine-merchant had given her up voluntarily to the +district judge. She was right also when she said that it was impossible +for her—Emilie—to know such a person. She was quite wrong about the +money transaction.</p> + +<p>The price paid was not a bank-note, but a human heart.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The synagogue is a gray weather-beaten building, erected long ago, +almost in the middle ages. The country people call it the Judenburg +(Jews' strong-hold), because the Jews once took refuge in it, and +intrenched themselves there, when Prince Czartoryski came to murder and +rob them. One of his reasons for doing so was that he wanted sport, and +there were no foxes or wild boars to be found in the neighborhood in the +hunting season; and another was, that he wanted money. The Jews hid +themselves and their property behind the walls and iron bars of the +synagogue, and held out until the men of Jagiellnica arrived from their +neighboring fortress, and relieved them. At that time the walls of the +Judenburg were strong, and the iron-work firm; but the bars are all +broken now, or they are lost, and the walls are half in ruins. As if to +testify to the importance of the building as a holy refuge, the poorest +of the Jews' houses are built round it on three sides. On the fourth +side, the sluggish river Lered flows so close to the synagogue that +there is only space for two dwellings. One of these is a large new +house, painted yellow—an unusual decoration in this vicinity—and the +other is a dirty, ruinous cottage clinging forlornly to the bank of the +river. The yellow house seems to be shoving its poorer neighbor over the +brink, the moldering walls of the hovel hang so directly above the slow +sad water. The rich wine-merchant, Manasse Silberstein, used to live +with his son in the large house, and a very poor man, Nathan Bilkes, had +lived for many years in the hovel.</p> + +<p>Nathan had been a <i>dorfgeher</i> (peddler) as long as his strength had +lasted, and then he spent a weak lonely old age upon his hardly earned +savings, eked out by the charity of the community. He had become +prematurely old and weak, like most people of his hard-working, +poverty-stricken class.</p> + +<p>A <i>dorfgeher</i> means, in the language of his co-religionists, a traveler +who gains his livelihood by supplying the surrounding villages with the +necessaries of life. On Sundays he tramps out of the town with an +enormous pack upon his back, in which is stored all that the heart of a +Ruthenian peasant could wish for, except the one thing most desired—for +the <i>dorfgeher</i> does not sell schnapps.</p> + +<p>Everything else he sells: straw hats, leather belts, boots, +clasp-knives, flowers, ribbons, corals, love-philters, stuffs for gowns, +spindles, linen, tallow, hardware, images of the saints, charms, +wax-candles, needles, linen thread, and newspapers of the last week. He +sells everything, and all are his customers—from the cavalry officers, +who buy his smuggled cigars, and the pastors and gentry, who buy his +fine stuffs, to the poorest peasant. Throughout the whole week he goes +from village to village, from house to house—in the height of summer +and the depth of winter. He knows everybody, and all know him. If they +require his wares they invite him to cross their thresholds; if they +want to buy nothing they drive him away, and if he does not go +immediately they hound their dogs at him. The peasant and the noble, the +chaplain and the young lieutenants, sharpen their wits at his expense; +and if their jokes are not always ready, they try their switches and +spurs. But he never wearies, and from early morning until late evening +he raises his hoarse cry, and haggles and cheats wherever he can. If he +can not get money in exchange for his wares, he will take what he can +get—skins, grain, chickens, ducks, or eggs. On Friday afternoons he +returns to town, and for one whole day he feels himself a man; but on +Sunday he becomes nothing but a <i>dorfgeher</i> again....</p> + +<p>Nathan Bilkes was a <i>dorfgeher</i>, and the above is a description of his +life, which differed in no way from that of others of his trade. His +father had found him a wife in due time. She had proved most excellent, +but had died soon after her marriage, leaving two children.</p> + +<p>The children grew up, strong and beautiful, in the dark cheerless +cottage, as one sometimes sees sweet flowers blooming in the midst of +rubbish and decay. But their father bewailed their strength and beauty, +for these qualities lost them to him. His children so passed out of his +life that he grew to look upon them as dead. The son was obliged to +become a soldier, because Nathan could not pay the fifty gulden that +were required to obtain his release. Bär Blitzer, the broker, had said +that it could be done for fifty gulden, but the money was not there. The +lad went to Italy with his regiment, and after the battle of Magenta his +name was in the official list as "missing." His old father waited long +for his return, but he never came back. His daughter, too, died to him. +"My Chane," the old man took care to say, "was a beautiful Jewess; but I +do not know the heathen (<i>goje</i>) Frau Christine."</p> + +<p>The <i>dorfgeher</i> had not foreseen that his daughter would be a source of +trouble to him. His Chane had been as obedient as she was lovely, +modest, and industrious. She was not alone beloved by her father—she +was a universal favorite.</p> + +<p>No one grudged her good luck when old Manasse Silberstein sought her +hand in marriage for his only son Nathan. It was a great and unexpected +good fortune; for these people are strictly divided into classes, and +the rich and poor seldom intermarry. This custom is natural; for the +only occupation they were permitted to follow was money-making, thus the +possession of wealth has been their sole happiness for many generations.</p> + +<p>The poor peddler was at first incredulous. Old Manasse was very rich, +and had a large grocery business, and a prosperous trade in Hungarian +and Moldavian wines. It was a great distinction for the poor girl that +his choice fell upon her.</p> + +<p>Nathan Silberstein was a man of irreproachable character. He was a +fine-looking young fellow, honest, straightforward, and intelligent, and +knew the Talmud as well as he knew his trade. As he was to be a +merchant, his father had had him taught High German. With the help of +his teacher he learned reading and writing, and waded through a +"complete letter-writer," and a "complete index of German municipal +law." These two books were supposed to represent his German library; but +hidden in his bookcase, under great Hebrew folios, was one other little +German book. On Saturday afternoons, when he went to spend his holiday +in the park, he took this little volume in his pocket. He read it in a +solitary corner where the green leaves rustled around him, and at these +times he felt something within him moving in sympathy with the poetry, +of which he was unconscious during the rest of the week. Perhaps it was +his heart beating. On the back of the book the title was written in gilt +letters, "Schiller's Poems."</p> + +<p>When his father told him he had chosen him a wife, and who she was to +be, his heart was untouched. He answered dutifully, "As you will, +father;" but the color left his face as he spoke. The girl was as +obedient to her father as he was to his, only she blushed instead of +turning pale when she heard the name of her future husband.</p> + +<p>The betrothal took place, and three months later they were married.</p> + +<p>In the interval, Nathan gave his <i>fiancée</i> presents of costly pearls and +precious stones; and she embroidered a robe in gold and silver for him +to wear in the synagogue. Their conversations were always on indifferent +subjects. They did not talk of themselves or their future life, and they +did not talk of the past; for though they had been neighbors all their +lives, they had no mutual recollections.</p> + +<p>The marriage was solemnized with great pomp and ceremony: wine flowed +liberally, mountains of meat and confectionery were consumed, and the +best musicians and merry-andrews enlivened the guests. The young people +then took up their abode in the large roomy house opposite the Dominican +monastery, which Manasse had prepared for his son. They led a busy life; +their days were spent in labor, and they lived on pleasant friendly +terms with one another. They were both good and well-disposed, and as +they had never expected their married life to be spent in an earthly +paradise, they were not disappointed. Custom, a common occupation, and +mutual respect bound them to each other. Time passed uneventfully until +the end of the first year, when a child was born, and the young father +again felt his heart beat as it had not done for a long time. The infant +only survived its birth a few weeks, and grief brought the young couple +into closer sympathy than before. Old Manasse died about the same time, +and the whole responsibility of the business fell upon their shoulders. +Nathan had to go away on long journeys, and Chane became a trustworthy +stewardess of the great house. She learned to read and write German, so +as to be able to help her husband in the business, while his personal +comforts were her ceaseless care. He had the greatest esteem for her, +and brought her many presents from Lemberg and Czernowitz. They were +contented with their lot, and were happy enough.</p> + +<p>Happy enough—why were they not quite happy?</p> + +<p>Because they did not love one another. They knew nothing of love except +that Christians, previous to marriage, fell in love; and what concern +had a Jew in Christian usages?</p> + +<p>They were happy enough, and their married life seemed firmly founded on +esteem for each other, and on their common interests and work; but the +storms of passion were to shake the structure to its base, and after +throwing it down, were to carry them onward to grief and pain.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Barnow is a very small town, a squalid nook in a God-forgotten corner of +the earth, where the great current of life hardly seems to cause the +faintest ripple—but it has its <i>casino</i>. This is only a modest little +room in the court behind Nathan's shop, containing two tables and a few +chairs. Nathan had opened it for the use of his principal customers. +Here the officials and magnates of Barnow are accustomed to drink their +morning glasses and discuss politics; and if their wives allow them, +they do the same again in the evening. The high-born Florian von +Bolwinski, a squire without land, and a bachelor, drinks not only his +morning and evening glasses in this room, but sundry others also, +filling up the intervals with expeditions to make love to a cook, or +squeeze a Jew, or execute some important business. The former district +judge, Herr Hippolyt Lozinski, had been a constant customer; and the +little room did him one good service in giving him a red nose, which was +a fine contrast to his yellow complexion. When the red deepened to ruby +color he died, rather to the delight of the district, and to the grief +of his many admirers. Frau Kasimira retired to the estate of the Von +Cybulskies, a small, heavily mortgaged farmhouse near Tarnopol; and the +new district judge, Herr Julko von Negrusz, took up his residence in the +first floor of the white house. He took the place of his predecessor at +the <i>casino</i> also, but without frequenting it so continually as he had +been used to do.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz was a man of about thirty. He was recognized at once to +be an excellent jurist, and when better known, he was also considered a +good fellow. A district judge in Podolia is a sort of demigod, and is +either the blessing or curse of the district. Herr von Negrusz made a +good use of his power. There is not much to be said about his external +appearance: he was a slightly built man, with quiet brown eyes and a +face that could neither be called handsome nor ugly. The custom-house +officer's three sallow elderly daughters considered him a barbarian, and +quite unsusceptible to the charms of women. He did not care for ladies' +society.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz soon became a constant guest in the little parlor +behind the grocer's shop. He went there daily when he left the office, +and spent half an hour reading the newspapers before going home to the +dinner prepared by his old housekeeper. As the entrance by the court was +inconvenient and not very clean, he always, like most of the guests, +went through the shop where Nathan Silberstein's beautiful wife +superintended the business. It was his habit to pass her with a bow. He +never talked and joked with her, as did most of the older men and the +young officers. He had no particular reason for acting thus, except that +much laughing and joking was not in his way. He may also have thought +that what these men called compliments were probably objectionable to +her; but if so, he was mistaken—Chane was indifferent to what they +said, and regarded their talk as one of the annoyances inseparable from +attendance in the shop, as, for example, the draughts. Her manner was +very decided, and she was well able to protect herself from +impertinence. She answered the elder men with the same lightness as they +used in speaking to her, while she greeted the officers curtly and +laconically. When love was made the subject of conversation, she would +laugh and joke almost extravagantly. Love was not only an enigma to her, +for she had never felt it, but it was positively ludicrous in her eyes. +Whoever ventured, between the first and second pints, to say to her, "I +love you," she openly derided and inwardly despised; but whoever +attempted to slip his arm round her waist ... well, to find this out, +you have only to ask little Lieutenant Albert Sturm, a forward, +ill-favored, saucy young fellow, why his right cheek was once redder and +rounder than his left for the space of a week.</p> + +<p>She never needed to protect herself from word or look of the district +judge. For the first three months after his arrival they did not +exchange a word. Such stiffness was most unusual in Barnow, where every +one knew each other, more especially as she and Herr von Negrusz +inhabited the same house, and Chane expressed her surprise openly and +unaffectedly to her husband.</p> + +<p>One day Nathan stood at the shop-door for a long time in earnest +conversation with the district judge and Florian von Bolwinski. At last +Negrusz went away to his office, while Florian entered the shop with the +merchant, in order to drink an extra glass for the good of his +digestion.</p> + +<p>"Nathan," said Chane, "what a strange man the district judge is! He must +be very proud! He has never yet spoken to me."</p> + +<p>"No, he is not at all proud," answered Nathan. "He is one of the most +good-natured men I know, but he is not a great talker. Why he is so +silent I can not tell—perhaps he is unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" growled Florian. "What a vain woman your wife is, Pani Nathan! +We are all at her feet, but that is not enough for her. She wants young +Herr Julko to be the next victim. Ho, ho, ho! All her trouble will be +thrown away upon him, however, for he is already in love. God's +punishment is in store for her!"</p> + +<p>Chane waited patiently until the old toper had finished speaking: she +was accustomed to his rude witticisms.</p> + +<p>"We are not all as light-hearted as you are," she answered, "and this +man really seems too sensible to be capable of falling in love."</p> + +<p>Herr Florian put his hands on his sides and laughed and sniggered. "Ho, +ho!" he gasped. "Did you ever hear such nonsense?... Ho, ho, ho!... As +if only stupid people could fall in love!... Am I stupid? and—Pani +Nathan, are you not jealous?—I am in love with her. To punish you, I +must assure you that he is already disposed of!... his heart is buried +in a grave. Ho, ho, ho!"</p> + +<p>"Fool!" muttered Chane impatiently, while Herr Florian staggered into +the <i>casino</i> with Nathan.</p> + +<p>She could not get what he had told her out of her head, and in the +evening, when she sat arranging business letters with her husband, who +was to leave home next day, she suddenly asked—</p> + +<p>"What did Bolwinski mean by saying that Herr von Negrusz's heart was +buried in a grave?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," replied Nathan; "but the story goes that he was in love +with a girl who died, and that he will never marry. It may be true, for +Christians are fools when they are in love."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Chane, staring thoughtfully at the flame of the lamp.</p> + +<p>She soon took her pen again, and finished a letter to Moses Rosenzweig, +ordering a barrel of herrings and five hundredweights of sugar from +Czernowitz.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Next day a strange thing happened.</p> + +<p>Herr Florian Bolwinski is not only a fat man, he is also a good-natured +man. As he has never injured any one, he is not afraid of any +one—except his landlady, although he has never injured her. He is +good-natured, but he has one great fault—he tells everything that he +knows, and even invents a little now and then. These additions are the +fruit, partly of a vivid imagination, and partly of his numerous +potations. Next morning, when he sat alone in the <i>casino</i> with the +district judge, he related how Frau Chane had opened her heart to him, +and had confessed, with torrents of tears, her mad love for Herr von +Negrusz, and that she felt inclined to kill herself in despair, because +the object of her passionate love did not take any notice of her, and +would not waste one word upon her, even if she were dying.</p> + +<p>Herr Florian did not make his story as short as I have given it above, +but he went into every little particular, giving the most graphic +descriptions of the whole scene.</p> + +<p>He interrupted himself several times to laugh, "Ho, ho, ho!" and +ejaculate, "Do you see!" He had to do this to give himself breath, for +Herr von Negrusz said not a word. He listened gravely, only occasionally +allowing a sarcastic smile to play upon his lips. Herr Florian disliked +this smile, and as often as he saw it he could not help feeling +embarrassed. This he tried to hide by adorning his tale still more. "Now +what do you think of it all?" he concluded, out of breath.</p> + +<p>"What do I think of it?" repeated the district judge. "I only admire +your wonderful imagination. Adam Mickiewicz is nothing to you."</p> + +<p>"What! what!—ho, ho! you do not believe me! My dear Herr von Negrusz, I +do not deserve this. Have you ever heard me tell a lie? And besides +that, what good would it do me? No; on my honor, I am speaking the +truth. I was quite sorry for the poor woman. She is over head and ears +in love with you. I never saw anything like it—even I, who know women +so well. Over head and ears, over head and ears; and now I want to know +what I am to say to her? Nathan is away—do you understand?—away for +three weeks—ho, ho! The woman...."</p> + +<p>"Herr von Bolwinski," interrupted the district judge, rising and folding +up the newspapers, which he had been glancing through, "you, who are a +Catholic nobleman, think you may say what you like of the wife of the +Jew Silberstein behind her back. I must, however, tell you that if I did +not know that the story you have just told me is a lie from the first +word to the last...."</p> + +<p>"Herr von Negrusz!..."</p> + +<p>"I repeat it—a lie from the first word to the last. Had you really been +the bearer of a message of love to me from a faithless woman, I should +have declined any further acquaintance with you. You have been joking in +your peculiar way, which is certainly not my way, for I object to jokes +at the expense of such worthy people as this Jewish couple. I recommend +you not to continue such jokes when you find any of your butts as +reluctant as I...."</p> + +<p>Herr Florian lost his temper completely. His story was not credited, +and his good joke was lost. This he might have pardoned, as he was +accustomed to the incredulity of his hearers, but Herr von Negrusz took +his story seriously, almost tragically. He treated him like a schoolboy, +and that he could not stand. He felt that his honor would not allow him +to retract his words, so he rose, and with much gesticulation, said in +an overbearing way—</p> + +<p>"Do you know to whom you are speaking—do you hear? Do you know to whom +you are speaking, I ask? You are speaking to me, Florian von Bolwinski. +You must respect what I say; remember what is due to me. I never heard +such language. A liar and a go-between, am I?... ho, ho! I must be +respected. Remain virtuous if you choose, but what I tell you is true. +Chane is in love with you—madly in love...."</p> + +<p>"Be silent!"</p> + +<p>These words, spoken in a sharp incisive voice, interrupted his flow of +words. He looked toward the door, and his arms fell to his sides, the +blood forsaking his cheeks. Herr von Negrusz turned crimson.</p> + +<p>"Be silent," repeated Chane, stretching her hand toward the fat, +trembling little man. Drawn up to her full height, she stood in the +doorway, looking as proud and beautiful as a queen.</p> + +<p>Herr Florian let his head sink and his under lip fall, and altogether +looked very sheepish. Chane closed the door, and walked up to the two +men.</p> + +<p>"Did—you—listen?" stammered the old sinner, trying to laugh.</p> + +<p>"I did not listen," answered Chane, emphatically. "It is not my custom +to try to hear what gentlemen say in this room. It is no concern of +mine. I was engaged in that part of the shop where the spices are; it is +so close to the door that I could not help overhearing. It was bitter +enough to do so, but it is harder still to be obliged to speak for +myself." As she said this the hot blood rushed to her face. She +hesitated, and then continued: "But Nathan is not at home, and I am +compelled to tell you myself, to your face, Herr von Bolwinski, that you +are a liar. Yesterday I did ask my husband if Herr von Negrusz was +proud, as he never spoke to me, as other gentlemen do. I meant nothing +wrong, and therefore, Herr von Bolwinski ... you ... you ought to be +ashamed...."</p> + +<p>Herr von Bolwinski did as he was bid; he was ashamed. His face fell, and +his eyes sought the ground. Herr von Negrusz, on the contrary, fixed his +eyes upon Chane. It was dangerous, even for one whose heart was "buried +in the grave," to drink in her marvelous beauty.</p> + +<p>"I thank Herr von Negrusz," continued Chane, with increasing hesitation, +and blushing more deeply than before, "for showing a friendly interest +in Nathan and me; and if he will not speak to me, I must speak to him, +and tell him that he is rightly called a noble-minded man, and for my +part, I thank him...."</p> + +<p>Like Herr Florian, the district judge found no words of reply, and +looked down somewhat abashed. He seized his hat, and bowing +respectfully, left the room.</p> + +<p>His old housekeeper, who had a great regard for him, was distressed at +his loss of appetite that evening, for he sent away his favorite dishes +almost untouched.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The days passed, and imperceptibly a bond of love was formed between +these two hearts, which was sinful and criminal in the sight of God and +man.</p> + +<p>The scene in the little wine-shop had had no apparent consequences, +except that Herr von Bolwinski took the rest of his potations at home +that day. Of course he took an extra quantity, to console him for what +he considered his undeserved rebuff. Next day he appeared as usual, +passing Chane in the shop.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz also came as usual in the middle of the day. That he +should do so was not a matter of surprise. It was, however, astonishing +that things went on in the old way. Bolwinski continued his customary +badinage, and getting no reply from Chane, he said, "Ho, ho! you are +proud, but I love you all the same!" while Herr von Negrusz only bowed +as before.</p> + +<p>What was his reason?</p> + +<p>It is not difficult for people to deceive themselves when they wish to +do so. "I will not speak to her," he said to himself, "lest I should +give the old gossip an opportunity for sarcasm, or the invention of +fresh slanders." At the same time he was conscious that this was not his +real reason, and sometimes he was childish enough to be angry with the +woman whose beauty tempted his heart to be untrue to its natural sense +of honor.</p> + +<p>It was not the bashfulness of which the lively Emilie accused him; +because, after she had on one occasion pressed his hand confidentially, +he had not offered to shake hands with her again. Neither was it that +"unsusceptibility to the charms of women" of which the three graces +complained. No sensible, clever man is ever bashful, and what did his +unsusceptibility amount to? Alas! the beautiful and outraged woman had +made a deeper impression on his heart than was altogether pleasant to +him. The wanton conduct of Herr von Bolwinski had placed him in such a +peculiar position toward a woman with whom he was unacquainted, that he +could not hit upon the right tone or words with which to address her. He +certainly did not feel at ease in her presence, although he swore to +himself that he was so. He continually said to himself, "I will not +speak to her, so that that wicked old woman in trousers may have no +reason for chatter; besides, I have nothing to talk to her about." He +knew that he was deceiving himself, and that he was behaving badly; but +as time passed on, he found it more and more impossible to break the +silence which he knew to be a mistake. He longed to know what she +thought of him.</p> + +<p>And Chane never spoke of him, even to her husband. She had talked about +him openly before the scene in the wine-room, and now she could do so no +longer. She did not even tell Nathan, on his return home after a month's +absence, of the gross conduct of Herr von Bolwinski. "Why should I make +him angry?" she thought; but she knew that she was unwilling to mention +the name of Herr von Negrusz. An inexplicable reticence prevented her +from doing so. She thought so much about him, and yet she could not +speak of him. Every day her imagination took a different turn. Sometimes +she thought it was not nice of him to treat her with such marked +indifference; and at other times she wondered if the haughty Christian +really believed she was in love with him, and wished to show her that +she was nothing to him. "He need not do that," she thought, "for he is +certainly nothing to me. But then he stood up for me nobly, and perhaps +he does not intend to give that fat, ugly Bolwinski an opportunity for +further lies. It must be true that his heart is buried in the grave. He +loves a dead woman so truly that he will never speak to a living one. +He does not even talk to the custom-house officer's wife. How is it +possible to love one who is dead—and what is love?..."</p> + +<p>The Power that shapes our lives often uses strange means. Two people +were being brought together who were not on speaking terms!</p> + +<p>They maintained silence for three long months, though they saw one +another daily. The summer passed away, the yellow leaves in the +monastery garden began to fall; the vintage came, and Nathan started on +his long rounds through Hungary and Moldavia. He was to return on the +Sabbath before the great feast. "Take care of yourself, and see that you +get good vinegar out of the spoiled must," were his parting words. He +embraced his wife, calmly kissing her on the brow. He little thought +that he did so for the last time.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>One beautiful sunny day in September Chane was busy in the shop, and +Herr von Bolwinski and the collector of taxes were talking politics in +the <i>casino</i>. Everything was as usual. Herr von Negrusz stepped into the +shop. He lifted his hat, and was passing on, but was prevented by a cask +of herrings, which filled the passage.</p> + +<p>"You must come round here," said Chane, pointing behind the counter.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said, passing her. Then he stopped, and added, "You are +making changes here." He wished to say something, and could think of +nothing better.</p> + +<p>"Yes; for the fruit season."</p> + +<p>"There is a splendid crop this year...."</p> + +<p>"Particularly of apples...."</p> + +<p>"And the wine promises well, I hear. Where is Herr Nathan just now?"</p> + +<p>"At Hegyallja, I believe; but I do not know for certain. He has not much +time for writing when he is traveling. Perhaps he is at Tokay now." +Pride in the flourishing state of the business here triumphed over her +shyness, and she continued: "We opened up a good trade with Potocki and +Czartoryski last spring, so we now import wines direct from Tokay, as +well as from the Rhine."</p> + +<p>"I congratulate you on doing so well!" he said, lightly, and passed into +the <i>casino</i>.</p> + +<p>This was their first conversation, and Herr von Bolwinski could not have +found any love-making in it, even after his thirtieth pint.</p> + +<p>The ice was, however, broken, and many similar conversations followed, +sometimes about the weather, or trade, or little everyday events. It was +strange that while they were on distant terms, they were shy of one +another; but on knowing each other better, they became firm friends. +They might now be said to stand at cross-roads. Their simple daily +intercourse might put an end to the peculiar feelings toward each other +that had been produced by their first acquaintance, and subsequent +coldness of manner; or it might bring about a still more dangerous +juxtaposition. They were unconscious of the different paths that lay +before them, and as they saw more of one another, and enjoyed the +pleasure of each other's society more and more, they did not know that +they had already entered upon the road which must lead to sorrow and +renunciation, or to shame....</p> + +<p>Surely, had they known they would not have ventured on dangerous +subjects of conversation, which gave opportunities for the expression of +deep feeling and the revelation of each other's hearts. For instance, +she allowed him to know that Herr von Bolwinski had told her of his love +for one who had died. She almost joked about it, but was immediately +sorry when she saw the gravity of his face.</p> + +<p>"I have wounded you," she said, regretfully.</p> + +<p>"No, no," he answered, "but I should have liked to be the first to tell +you."</p> + +<p>He then told her the simple story of his first love.</p> + +<p>When he was a student in Munich he had fallen in love with a young girl +of noble family, to whom he gave lessons. She returned his affection; +but the world was too strong for them, and she married some one else, +only to die after a short wedded life.</p> + +<p>To the Jewess his story sounded like a fairy tale. A few months before, +she would not have understood his feeling at all, and even now it was +partly incomprehensible to her. She showed this by her next question.</p> + +<p>"And you love her still?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"She is dead," he replied, "and I do not love her in the same way as I +loved the living woman; but her memory will be dear to me as long as I +live. I shall never forget her."</p> + +<p>Chane looked thoughtfully before her.</p> + +<p>"Love must be strong," she whispered.</p> + +<p>He made no reply. Perhaps he had not heard what she said.</p> + +<p>Weeks fled rapidly, and the time of the great feast came nearer. Nathan +would soon return home, and they talked of him continually, praising his +industry, his honorable character, and his good honest heart. It is +surprising that they should have spoken of him so often, but perhaps +they did it because they felt they ought to strengthen their +recollection of his existence. He was the barrier that stood between +them, and respect for him was their last safeguard.</p> + +<p>The day of Nathan's arrival dawned; it was the Friday before the Jewish +new year. The decisive word was yet unspoken. The fatal time was, +however, near when the scales should fall from their eyes, and they +should see the abyss that yawned beneath them.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was October. The rain had fallen ceaselessly all night, making the +country and the dark little town look doubly desolate. Toward morning +the wind rose and scattered the clouds, blowing down the narrow, +tortuous streets, and robbing the poplars of the last red leaves that +clung to their branches. It was one of those miserable days when sorrow +and loneliness seem doubly heavy to those who have to bear their weight.</p> + +<p>Chane was alone in the shop. No customers were likely to come in such +weather. She watched the wind sporting with the leaves. Without any +apparent reason for unhappiness, her heart felt heavy.</p> + +<p>At last Rosel Juster came in. She was a very poor, but pretty and lively +girl. She made great purchases of sugar, almonds, raisins, and spices.</p> + +<p>"You are preparing for your betrothal," said Chane in a friendly tone. +"I have heard of it, and wish you every happiness. He is a lucky man."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," answered the girl; "the betrothal is to be on Tuesday, and +the wedding will be on the second Sabbath after that. We have to think +of his little children—he is a widower."</p> + +<p>"You will have a great deal to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I should think nothing of the work, but he has a sister living with +him, and he is an old man; but what is the good of talking about it?"</p> + +<p>"Then you would rather not marry him?"</p> + +<p>Rosel looked at her in surprise. "When are we women ever consulted as to +what we should like?" she asked. "I am a poor girl, and he takes me, and +provides for me—that is all that I have to do with it." She shrugged +her shoulders, passed her hand over her eyes, and went on quickly: +"Please give me two ounces of ginger."</p> + +<p>Chane said no more, but turned to weigh out the requisite quantity of +ginger. Her hands trembled as she twisted up the little paper packet, +and she made several mistakes with the weights.</p> + +<p>"You are not well, I am sure," said Rosel, as she prepared to go. "You +look so pale!"</p> + +<p>"I am tired," answered Chane, sinking into a chair.</p> + +<p>As the door closed behind the girl, she let her face fall between her +hands, and sat a long time buried in thought. The words spoken by Rosel +rang in her ears: "When are we women ever consulted as to what we should +like? I am a poor girl, and he has taken me, and provided for me, that +is all—my God, all!..."</p> + +<p>She kept her eyes firmly closed, but she could not shut them to the +truth any longer. Her whole life lay before her, and she knew that she +was living a lie. "I belong to Nathan, body and soul—not because it was +my will—not because it was his will—but because our fathers desired +it. And now, when I feel that I am a human being, with a heart and will +of my own—when I love another, I must either be miserable, or ..."</p> + +<p>She did not finish her sentence, for she was no longer able to control +her thoughts. She was filled with self-commiseration, and burning tears +fell from her eyes. She forgot where she was, and that he whom she +loved, and yet feared to meet, might come at any moment. She was first +roused by the monastery bell ringing at twelve o'clock, and tried to +recover her composure.</p> + +<p>It was too late. He stood within the door he had just opened.</p> + +<p>They had never hitherto spoken of their love for each other. They had +scarcely known that it existed. But when he came near her, and took her +hand in his, gazing into her large, soft, tearful eyes, which were fixed +pathetically upon his face, their love was revealed to him, and all the +sorrow it must bring. She, too, knew that her love was returned as he +gently smoothed her hair back from her forehead, and tried to comfort +her. Then he let her hands fall and left her side.</p> + +<p>"We shall have much to endure," he said, as if their love and all its +consequences were mutually understood. "But we must be firm. I have much +to say to you, but this is not the right time or place; and this +evening"—he hesitated, and then continued: "your husband is coming +back, and I will not ask you to give me an interview in secret from him. +I will write to you, and tell you what I think we ought to do."</p> + +<p>He pressed her hand and went into the <i>casino</i>.</p> + +<p>Chane got up from her chair, and sent the apprentice, who had been +rubbing up the silver and brass utensils in preparation for the feast, +into the shop. She remained in the kitchen preparing for the Sabbath, +and for the return of her husband. She did everything carefully, but her +manner was different from usual.</p> + +<p>"Have you a headache, ma'am?" asked the maid-servant, seeing her +suddenly clasp her hands upon her brow, as if she were trying to +recollect something. She felt confused and at a loss, but yet there was +some secret source of joy.</p> + +<p>In the evening the office-boy brought her a note.</p> + +<p>"From the district judge to your husband," he said; but when she opened +the envelope, she found that it contained a letter addressed to herself. +She did not open it, trembling for its purport.</p> + +<p>Dusk had fallen, and candles were brought. She repeated the beautiful +old prayer dutifully, that light and peace should dwell in the house, +and that God's mercy should avert every sorrow, pain, and grief.... She +knew the few words of the formula by heart, and yet this evening they +fell slowly from her lips. She doubted that she was worthy to pray to +God—she a Jewess, who had in her possession a letter from her Christian +lover!</p> + +<p>Overcome with fatigue and anxiety, she sank upon a chair, and looked at +the outside of the letter. It was sealed. It was a sin to break a seal +upon the Sabbath. "It is not my greatest sin," she thought, as she tore +open the letter.</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz wrote of his love for her, and that he must die or go +mad without her. "Become a Christian, and be my wife. The sin against +your husband will not be so great as the sin against our love, if you +refuse. I know that you love me. Only tell me that you will come to me, +and all else is my care."</p> + +<p>She crushed the letter in her hand, and threw it down. Then she picked +it up, straightened it out, and reread it. Her hands fell from the +table, and bending over them, her tears fell fast. She stammered +convulsively: "O my God! help me, enlighten me. Let me not become like +Esther Freudenthal, and end my days in shame and remorse. I have been a +faithful wife.... I can not break my marriage vows ... but I love him, +and feel that life is worthless away from him. He is a good man ... but +were he as wicked as the hussar who ruined Esther.... O my God! desert +me not...."</p> + +<p>Crying thus in the agony of her soul, she did not hear the door open, or +a man's step behind her. A hand was laid upon her shoulder. She looked +up, her husband stood before her.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" he cried, joyfully, "I am home at last. The storm has made +the roads...." He stopped and looked at her.... "Chane," he added, +anxiously, "how ill you look! what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer, and his glance fell on the letter. He reached toward +it, and she did not try to stop him. He read the first line, and became +as pale as death. "To you—writing to you thus!" He read a little +further, and then looked at the signature. "From him! This is a blow I +did not expect." He read on. His eyes seemed starting out of their +sockets, his hand trembled, and his face showed how he suffered. "What?" +he cried, when he had reached a certain point. "What? Is this true?" He +ceased, and she slipped on to the floor and clasped his knees, while he +finished reading the letter.</p> + +<p>He then threw it on the table, and bending over her, said sternly, "Rise +and be seated."</p> + +<p>She obeyed.</p> + +<p>"I only wish to know one thing," he went on, standing in front of +her—"the Christian writes that you love him.... Is it not a lie?... +Chane, the Christian lies?..."</p> + +<p>Lower and lower she bent her head. "Kill me," she said, "for I deserve +it. What he writes is true. I do love him."</p> + +<p>Nathan started convulsively. His usually placid features were strangely +agitated. "The truth!" he hissed; "and you remain in my house, you false +wife?"</p> + +<p>She looked him in the face with flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>"Nathan!" she cried, "I swear by my dead mother that he touched my hand +to-day for the first time."</p> + +<p>He gave a short laugh.</p> + +<p>"What if I believe you?" he said. "Shall we divide you between us? Shall +I possess you, and he have your love? Are you not mine, body and soul? +and if you could not be altogether mine, why did you become my wife?"</p> + +<p>She stepped close up to him, and said, with a despairing gesture, and a +sharp ring in her voice: "Do not be so hard, Nathan. I have been a true +wife to you; but when you ask why I married you, I reply, that my wishes +were never consulted."</p> + +<p>Her words seemed to strike him, for he could not answer, and there was a +long silence.</p> + +<p>She buried her face in the sofa-cushions.</p> + +<p>At last he said, "Go—we will talk of this to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She left the room.</p> + +<p>He bolted the door and resumed his restless pacing up and down. The old +servant knocked at the door—she had brought the supper-tray, but he +dismissed her at once. She went away grumbling, and he heard her +afterward saying to the cook: "God knows what is the matter! The master +has locked himself into the parlor, and the mistress is in her bedroom. +Neither of them will have any supper."</p> + +<p>A hot flush of shame mounted quickly to Nathan's face.</p> + +<p>"The servants suspect something already," he thought, "and soon all the +world will wonder what has happened. Old Jutta is right; God alone knows +what misery has fallen on my house, and God alone can help, for I know +not what to do."</p> + +<p>He threw himself down on the sofa, and thought it all over again, but he +could not keep still, and soon started up and began to walk up and down +the room again.</p> + +<p>"How foolish it was of me to say that God alone could help!" he thought. +"God can not be expected to work miracles for our individual needs. What +can God do but let him die, or me?—that would solve the difficulty."</p> + +<p>He pressed his burning brow on the window-pane, and stared out into the +darkness. "I possessed a treasure, and I did not know its value until +another, who was wiser than I, came and took it from me. +Perhaps—perhaps I deserve it....</p> + +<p>"Deserve it!" he repeated. "No, no, she is my wife, and whoever takes +her from me is a robber and a coward....</p> + +<p>"He is a coward!... He, who always used to be such a good, +straightforward man. I can scarcely believe that he could have been so +wicked.... It must have been her fault—her fault alone.</p> + +<p>"But oh, is a wife like other property, as I have always thought? Is she +no more than any other chattel, such as an ornament or a house? Has she +not a will like every other human being? And has that will ever been +consulted?...</p> + +<p>"That was the sin, and now we are suffering from its consequences.</p> + +<p>"I was not to blame in those old days; nor was she. And we have lived +irreproachably for many years. The punishment for that sin has come upon +us now; and on which of us is the expiation to fall?...</p> + +<p>"Can I give her up? If I do, my heart will break; but my heart must not +decide. I must not think of myself; but try to find out whether it would +not be a sin against God and the law. Ought I to let my wife leave me, +and become the mistress of a Christian, or even become a Christian +herself? Ought I to bring such shame upon the name of our God and upon +his people?"</p> + +<p>He drew himself up to his full height, and stretched out his hand toward +heaven: "Though my heart and hers should break, Thy name shall not be +dishonored, my Lord and my God."</p> + +<p>His hand fell slowly, and he paused. "Alas!" he whispered, "has not Thy +name even now been dishonored? Has she not spread her hands out to Thee +above the lights in my house, with the image of the Christian in her +heart? Could any sin be greater? Is it Thy will that this wickedness +should go on for the rest of our lives? Is it Thy will, O God?"</p> + +<p>He sat down, and bent his head upon the table. "I do not know what to +do," he exclaimed aloud. "Help me, O God! Thou hast revealed Thy will +through Thy priests and Thy prophets. I will study the law."</p> + +<p>He went to the bookcase and took out a large folio. As he did so, a +little book that had been lying behind it fell on the floor. He did not +observe it, and carried the folio to the table, opened it, and began to +read.</p> + +<p>He read for a long time, consulting different parts of it. At last he +closed the book sharply, stood up, and resting his clinched fist heavily +upon it, said, mournfully:</p> + +<p>"The law does not help me; there is nothing in it at all applicable to a +case such as this. The oldest law ordains that 'she should be stoned.' +And the law of the Talmud is this: 'Let her die because of her sin, if +the laws of the land in which ye live permit. If not, let the guilty +woman be thrust out of her husband's house, and let her return to her +father, who shall then punish and correct her as shall seem good in his +eyes. She shall be without honor and without rights, excluded from all +inheritance, and deprived of family ties....'</p> + +<p>"The law does not apply to us," he repeated. "She has been weak, not +criminal. She has not deceived me—she is mine; but, alas! her heart +does not belong to me. It never did, and I never thought of trying to +make it mine. The law does not apply; and who can show me a higher law?"</p> + +<p>Sighing deeply, he replaced the folio on the shelf, but when he tried to +close the doors of the bookcase, he found that the little volume which +had fallen unobserved prevented his doing so. He picked it up and looked +at it. Memories of the past came back in a flood as he recognized the +German book he had read so often as a youth. He had never quite +understood its contents, and yet had studied it again and again, because +of the sympathetic emotion it aroused in him. Schiller's poems, which he +had laid aside for so many years, came into his hands again at this dark +hour of his life....</p> + +<p>He sat down at the table, opened the book, and began to read. His +youthful days returned vividly to his mind. One poem he had read beneath +the old oak-tree in the park, and another he had surreptitiously studied +in a corner of the cellar when he was overlooking his father's workmen. +As he read on, he found to his surprise that he understood the whole +meaning of the poems, and yet he had learned nothing new since these old +days, except perhaps the secrets of the wine-trade. Each poem made a +deep impression on him. It was so different from all that he had found +in it before! Whether better or worse he did not stop to inquire; but +the influence must have been good, for his heart felt relieved of the +load that had oppressed it.</p> + +<p>He rose and walked about the room in the stillness of the early Sabbath, +repeating in a whisper some of the words he had just read. The only +sound that was to be heard was the sputtering of one or other of the +numerous wax-lights, or the fall of a heavy rain-drop against the +window-pane.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Morning came at last. The rain had ceased falling, and the last clouds +were being driven by the wind across the leaden sky. In the east the sun +was beginning to redden, and send its first bright rays upon the sodden +plain: it had also penetrated to Nathan's parlor.</p> + +<p>It found him still awake, but he was no longer restless, or speaking to +himself. He stood quietly by the window, his face turned toward the +east. The reflection of the sunrise lighted up his pale worn face, on +which the calmness and peace of determined action were expressed. His +eyes were fixed steadily on the east, and he seemed to be praying, +though his lips did not move.</p> + +<p>He had stood there a long time communing with God in the silence of the +early morning.</p> + +<p>The other inmates of the house began to stir. The servants held +whispered consultations; they guessed that something unusual had +happened.</p> + +<p>Chane left her room. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red with +weeping. She approached Nathan with bent head.</p> + +<p>"Chane," he said, gently, "I have made up my mind. I hope that what I +mean to do will be for the best for you—and for him. As for me, our God +is a merciful God—He will not forsake me."</p> + +<p>He spoke the last words in so low a voice that she did not hear them. +She blushed deeply, but did not speak. A moment later she hurried from +the room, and after a long absence, returned with his breakfast.</p> + +<p>That done, they went to the synagogue together as usual; and no one +seeing them had the least idea of the agony of heart they were both +enduring.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! there is nothing wrong," said old Jutta to the other +maid-servant when she saw them come home together, and sit down to their +dinner as usual.</p> + +<p>Nathan soon rose, saying, "Be not afraid. I am going to speak to him +now. You shall know our decision in half an hour."</p> + +<p>He went up-stairs to the rooms occupied by Herr von Negrusz. The +district judge was seated at his writing-table. He seemed confused when +he saw the husband of the woman he loved. He expected a painful scene.</p> + +<p>Nathan's manner was very quiet, and after a courteous greeting, he said: +"Herr von Negrusz, your confusion shows that you know the reason of my +visit. You wrote this letter to my wife, but before I give you the +answer, tell me—why did you do it? Is not the commandment, 'Thou shalt +not covet thy neighbor's wife,' as binding upon you as upon me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Herr von Negrusz, "I know that I am guilty of a great +sin—I love your wife. I make no excuse for myself."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you have answered so candidly," said Nathan. "I have nothing +further to say, except to give you the answer to your letter. My wife +returns your love, therefore she can not be my wife any longer; and I +shall take the proper steps to obtain a divorce. What shall you do then, +Herr von Negrusz?"</p> + +<p>"So help me God, I will marry her!" he replied, earnestly.</p> + +<p>Nathan looked at him keenly. "Good," he said. "I have no doubt that you +intend to do so, for you are an honorable man; but you are a Government +official, a Christian, and of noble birth. She is only a Jewess. You are +educated; Chane is not. You may afterward be influenced by these +considerations, and repudiate your present plan of action. I must guard +against your doing so; for Chane was my wife, and the moment she leaves +me for your sake, her father and the whole Jewish community will cast +her off. Should you break your promise, I shall take her back, for +I—but enough of that. I tell you plainly, if you do not marry her, <i>I +will kill you, so help me God</i>! You are the district judge, and I am +nothing but a Jew. You have a hundred means at your disposal of getting +rid of me, but I will keep my word."</p> + +<p>Herr von Negrusz raised his hand, and was about to protest, but Nathan +interrupted him hastily: "Do not swear," he said, "but keep your word, +so that I may not have to keep mine. Chane and I will be divorced in a +few days, and if she is not your wife before the end of two months, you +are a dead man. Farewell."</p> + +<p>He went home and said to his wife: "We will go to the Rabbi to-morrow, +and tell him that we have an insurmountable dislike to each other, and +he will at once give us a divorce on that account. The Christian has +promised to marry you. Had that not been his intention before, it is +now...."</p> + +<p>"Nathan!" she cried, throwing herself at his feet, and covering his hand +with tears and kisses—"Nathan, how good you are!"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, "I am not good. I am only doing what I consider to be +my duty. I am atoning for a sin that was committed through no fault of +mine. We were married without our feelings being consulted. That was a +sin, and it is expiated now; for I love you, although perhaps I did not +know it until yesterday, and you do not love me—but another. I can not +doom you to misery; rather than do that, I suffer myself. This is the +plain state of the case, and I claim no merit for what I am doing. What +distresses me most is that you will leave our faith, and that I enable +you to do so. I have prayed so earnestly to God for pardon, that I hope +He will forgive me. He sees my heart, and He knows that I have no +choice."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There is little more to tell.</p> + +<p>Nathan obtained a divorce in the course of a few days, and a few weeks +after, Chane—now Christine—married Herr von Negrusz.</p> + +<p>There had not been such a scandal in the neighborhood for years. Curses +and malevolence followed Chane to her new home; and even those who +wished her well, shook their heads over the marriage.</p> + +<p>The reader already knows that the curses were fruitless, and the fears +of the benevolent unfounded. That Chane lived, a happy wife and mother, +in the same house, on the threshold of which Esther Freudenthal had died +because she had loved a Christian. This time love had triumphed over +creed. It seemed to work miracles: for not only did it overlap barriers, +but in spite of the objectionable features of the case, and the +dissimilarity of the husband and wife, theirs was a happy marriage. For +theirs was true love, and true love is a mighty power, a divine gift, +without which it is a sin against God and man to enter into any +marriage.</p> + +<p>Christine von Negrusz has only one sorrow. It is not that Frau Emilie +will hardly speak to her, or that the three elderly "Graces" look the +other way when they chance to meet; nor is it the sardonic smile with +which Herr von Bolwinski accompanies the words—"I was the first to +notice it, ho, ho!" whenever he has the opportunity. None of these +things distress her; but a real shadow lies upon her otherwise happy +life.</p> + +<p>This is the wrath of her father, which will probably never cease until +the lonely, disappointed old man finds peace in the grave.</p> + +<p>Nathan took great pains to save her this one sorrow, but he was not +successful. He does not yet give up hope of a reconciliation, and every +time he revisits Barnow, he tries to soften the old man's heart.</p> + +<p>But Nathan is seldom at Barnow, and when he returns there two or three +times in the year, his visits are short. His business in the little town +is managed for him by a cousin, and he travels to distant countries. He +is no longer a small shop-keeper, but one of the richest wine-merchants +in the country.</p> + +<p>He has never married again. Once it was supposed that he was engaged to +a girl in Czernowitz, but it was not the case. Only one person knew the +reason of his solitude, and this was Frau Christine.</p> + +<p>This she learned the only time she ever saw him to speak to after their +separation. Nathan and Herr von Negrusz always met with friendly +feelings, and when the former was at home, the two boys were continually +with him; but he had avoided any meeting with Christine until now. It +was at the time that people said that he was going to be married again. +The boys were sitting with Nathan on the bench at the house-door, and as +it was late, their mother came to fetch them. They ran to meet her, +showed her the presents Nathan had brought for them, and dragged her up +to the bench.</p> + +<p>"I must thank you, Herr Silberstein," she said, in a trembling voice; +but she corrected herself quickly, and went on—"I must thank you, +Nathan, for being so kind to the children."</p> + +<p>"They are such dear little boys," he said, hastily. "I am very glad, +Chane, to see you so happy."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, "I am very happy—and you?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said, quietly; "the business is prospering."</p> + +<p>"The other day I heard some good news about you—from Czernowitz."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in it," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why? She is said to be a good and pretty girl."</p> + +<p>He looked at her, and then on the ground. "I found that I could not love +her," he said.</p> + +<p>Many years have passed since then, and Nathan is one of the richest men +in the country. People wonder why he works so hard when he has no one to +leave his riches to. But Nathan smiles at such questions—he knows that +he is working for some one.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TWO_SAVIOURS_OF_THE_PEOPLE" id="TWO_SAVIOURS_OF_THE_PEOPLE"></a>TWO SAVIOURS OF THE PEOPLE.</h2> + +<h3>(1870.)</h3> + + +<p>Any one who was ever in Barnow was sure to make the acquaintance of Frau +Hanna, mother of the chief of the Jewish session; and no one could know +her without honestly liking and admiring her, she was so good and kind, +and so very quick in understanding and entering into the thoughts and +feelings of others. But it would be difficult to convey an adequate idea +of her loving-kindness and wisdom to those who never knew her. She was +called <i>Babele</i> (grannie) by everybody who lived in the little town, and +not merely by her own grandchildren; and no wonder. She was never too +busy or too tired to help those who needed her assistance either in word +or deed; and even those who did not require money or advice used to +delight in going to see her, and in hearing her stories of old times; +for her renown as a story-teller was as great as her reputation for +benevolence. Any one passing the old synagogue or <i>judenburg</i> about the +third hour on a Sabbath afternoon in summer, might see with his own eyes +what a crowd of attentive listeners she had, and might hear with his own +ears how well worth listening to her stories always were. She used to +sit on a rug spread out in the shade with her silent eager auditors, who +sometimes numbered fifty men and women, grouped closely around her for +fear of losing a single word that fell from her lips. Her stories were +all about old days in Barnow—about things that had happened within her +own memory, or that she had heard from others. Any attempt to reproduce +her stories as she used to relate them would be very difficult, and if I +try to do so, it is only because the tale I have chosen is the one she +related far oftener than any other. I have heard her tell it scores of +times, and will now endeavor to translate it from the Jewish-German in +which she used to speak as faithfully as I can:</p> + +<p>"Who is great," began Frau Hanna, "and who is small? Who is mighty, and +who is weak? We poor short-sighted mortals are seldom capable of +deciding this question rightly. The rich and strong are mighty and great +in our eyes, while the poor and feeble are regarded as weak and small. +But in very truth it is not so. Greatness does not lie in riches or in +brute strength, but a strong will and a good heart. And, my friends, God +sometimes shows us this very clearly; indeed, we Jews of Barnow can tell +how our eyes were opened to this truth. On two different occasions our +community was plunged in great danger and suffering from the oppression +of the Gentiles around us, and on each of these occasions a saviour came +forward from among us, and delivering us from our distresses, turned our +mourning into joy. Who were these saviours of the people? Were they the +strongest or the richest of the congregation?... Listen to me and I will +tell you how it all happened.</p> + +<p>"When you cross the market-place, you see a great big block of wood +sticking out of the ground in front of the Dominican monastery. It is +weather-beaten and decayed, and would have been taken away long ago, +were it not kept as a memorial of a time of terror and despair.</p> + +<p>"You know nothing of those old days, and you may be thankful for it! If +I tell you about that time of misery, it is not that I wish to make your +hearts heavy with grief for what is past and gone, or to fill them with +bitter anger or hate. No; the sorrows of which I speak are over and done +with, and those who suffered from them are dead and buried. It is +written among the sayings of one of our wise and holy men: 'Forgive +those who have trespassed against you, and return good for evil.' What I +am going to tell you is the history of a great and noble deed that was +done by one who lived and suffered during that time of dire distress—a +deed that should make your hearts beat high when you hear of it, for it +is as heroic, good, and great as was ever done on the face of the earth.</p> + +<p>"Its author was a simple Jewish woman, whose heart had been steeled to +heroism by the force of circumstances. Her name was Lea, and she was the +wife of a rich and pious man called Samuel. The family was afterward +given the surname of Beermann when the Austrians came into the country, +and made it the law that our people should have German names as well as +their old ones; for at the time when these events took place we had no +such names. It was more than a hundred years ago, and we were still +living under the rule of the Polish nobles.</p> + +<p>"The single-headed white eagle was indeed a cruel bird of prey! Long +ago, when it was full-plumaged, when its eyes were clear and piercing, +and its talons firm and relentless in their grip, it was a proud and +noble bird that held its own against both West and North, and protected +all who took refuge under its wing most generously. For three hundred +years we lived a free and happy life under the shadow of its wings; but +when the eagle grew old and weak, and the other birds of prey round +about had deprived it of many of its feathers, it became cowardly, sly, +and cruel; and because it did not dare to attack its enemies, it turned +its wrath upon the defenseless Jews. The power of the kings of Poland +became a subject for children to jest about, and then the letters of +freedom we had been given of old were no longer of any avail. The nobles +became our masters. They oppressed us, extorted money from us, and +disposed of our lives and property as it seemed good in their eyes. Oh, +that was a time of unspeakable tribulation!</p> + +<p>"Barnow belonged even then to the noble family of Bortynski, to whom the +good Emperor Joseph afterward gave the title of Graf. Young Joseph +Bortynski had entered into possession of his estate that very year. He +was a quiet, pious, humble-minded man, and had been educated in a +cloister. His ways were different from those of the other young men of +his position in the neighborhood, for he hated wine, cards, and women, +looked after the management of his property, and prayed four hours a +day. He was just and kind in his dealings with his serfs; but we +experienced very little of his kindness and justice, for he was hard and +cruel to us. He once gave Samuel, the leader of the synagogue, his +reason for treating us so badly: 'You crucified my God,' he said. +Whenever he was inclined to act toward us with less harshness, he was +prevented doing so by his private chaplain, a man who had formerly been +his tutor, and who had great influence over him. His name has not come +down to us, but he was always talked of as the 'black priest.'</p> + +<p>"We Jews used to be very careful of our conduct in those days, and even +those of our number who were evil-disposed refrained from deeds of +wickedness. 'You crucified my God,' the Graf had said to Samuel, and had +then added in a threatening tone: 'I give you fair warning, that if I +find any of your people guilty of a crime, I shall burn your town as +your God once did to Sodom and Gomorrah.' Our fears may be better +imagined than described.</p> + +<p>"So the spring of 1773 began. The Easter festival was about to commence, +when it was rumored that the Empress-Queen at Vienna intended to deprive +the Poles of their remaining power, and to govern the land hence-forward +by means of her own officials. But so far as we could see, there was no +sign of this intention being carried out.</p> + +<p>"Samuel, the leader of the synagogue, and his wife Lea, lived in the old +house in the market-place that is still known as the 'yellow house.' +They were both very much respected by the community: the husband, +because of his riches, wisdom, and piety; and the beautiful young wife, +because of her gentleness and beneficence. They were in great trouble +that Easter, for their only child, a little boy of a year and a half +old, had died suddenly a few days before.</p> + +<p>"Late one Sunday evening they were sitting together in silent grief. The +Easter festival was to begin on the following evening, and Lea was very +tired, for she had been busy all day long cleaning and dusting the whole +house from top to bottom. Suddenly they were startled by a loud knocking +at the house-door. Samuel opened the window and looked out. An old +peasant-woman was standing at the door with a bundle on her back. On +seeing the master of the house, she moaned out a piteous entreaty for +admittance. She was too weak, she said, to walk home to her village that +evening, and so she begged Samuel to give her shelter for the night.</p> + +<p>"'This isn't an inn,' answered Samuel, shortly, at the same time +shutting the window.</p> + +<p>"'Poor thing,' said Lea, 'ought we to send her away?'</p> + +<p>"'We're living in dangerous times,' replied Samuel; 'I don't like to +admit a stranger into my house.'</p> + +<p>"'But this poor creature is ill and weak,' said Lea.</p> + +<p>"And as the old woman outside continued to make an appeal to his pity, +Samuel gave way and let her in. The maid-servants were all in bed and +asleep, so Lea took her guest to a garret-room, and, after providing her +with food and wine, wished her good-night, and left her.</p> + +<p>"Next morning the stranger took leave of her hostess very early, and +with many expressions of gratitude. Lea was so busy all day making the +final preparations for the feast, that she had not time to visit the +room that had been occupied by the old woman until late in the +afternoon, when she was making a last round of the house to see that no +leavened bread was anywhere to be found. The room was perfectly neat and +tidy, but she was astonished to find it pervaded by a most disagreeable +smell. She opened the window, but that had no effect. She hunted about +for the cause of the horrible odor. At length, on looking under the bed, +she saw what made her blood run cold and her hair stand on end with +terror. For under the bed there lay the naked corpse of a half-starved +little child, with great wounds in its neck and chest. Lea at once +understood what had happened, and struggled hard against the faintness +that threatened to overpower her. The old woman had brought the corpse +to the house, and had concealed it there, in order that the hideous old +story might be revived that the Jews were in the habit of killing +Christian children before the feast of the Passover; and terrible would +be the vengeance taken by the Christians of the neighborhood. Lea +recognized the full horrors of her position, and remembered the Graf's +warning to her husband. She was nearly overwhelmed with the weight of +her misery. For was it not she, and she alone, who, by inducing her +husband to admit the woman into the house, had brought all the sorrow, +persecution, and death that would surely come upon her home and upon the +whole Jewish community? While she sat there shivering with fever and +anguish, she heard wild cries, shrieks, and the sound of weeping in the +street, and also the clank of swords. 'They are coming,' she muttered, +and at the same moment a thought flashed into her mind, far more strange +and horrible than a woman's brain had ever before conceived, and yet so +noble and self-sacrificing that a woman alone could have entertained it. +'It was my fault,' she said to herself, 'and I alone must bear the +consequences.' She rose to her feet, pressed her lips firmly together, +and after a struggle regained her composure. Then taking up the child's +corpse, she wrapped it in a linen cloth and laid it on her knee.</p> + +<p>"She listened; ... the minutes seemed to drag. Then she heard the young +Graf's voice outside speaking passionately to her husband and another +member of the session in these words: 'The woman heard the death-rattle +distinctly. I will not leave one stone upon another if I find the body.' +She heard the men going through all the rooms in the house. As their +steps approached the one in which she was seated, she rose and went to +the window, below which the roof fell away steeply, and overhung the +paved courtyard of the house.</p> + +<p>"The door was thrown open violently; the Graf entered, accompanied by +the two members of session, and followed by his men-at-arms. Lea sprang +forward to meet them with a wild laugh, showed them the child's body, +and then flung it out of the window on to the court beneath....</p> + +<p>"'I am a murderess,' she cried out to the Graf; 'yes, I am, I am. Take +me, bind me, kill me! I murdered my own child last night; I don't deny +it. You've come to fetch me; here I am!'</p> + +<p>"The men stared at her in speechless amazement.</p> + +<p>"Then came furious cries, shouts, and questions. Samuel, strong man as +he was, fainted away. The other Jews, at once perceiving the true state +of the case, and seeing no other way of saving the whole community from +certain death, supported her in her statement. Lea remained firm. The +Graf looked at her piercingly, and she returned his gaze without +flinching: 'Listen, woman,' he said; 'if you have really committed the +crime of which you have confessed yourself guilty, you shall die a death +of torture far more terrible than any one has ever yet suffered; but if +the other Jews killed the child in order to drink its blood at the +feast, you and your husband shall go unpunished, and the others shall +alone expiate their crime. I swear this by all that is holy! +Now—choose!'</p> + +<p>"Lea did not hesitate for a moment. 'It was my child,' she said.</p> + +<p>"The Graf had Lea taken to prison and confined in a solitary cell. He +quite saw all the improbability of her story, but he did not believe in +any greatness of soul in one of our people. 'If it were not true,' he +thought, 'why should the woman have given herself up?'</p> + +<p>"The trial threw no light upon the subject.</p> + +<p>"All the Jewish witnesses bore testimony against Lea. One told how she +had hated her child; another how she had threatened to kill it. Fear of +death forced these lies from their lips. The only Christian witness was +the black priest's housekeeper—the same woman who had gone to Samuel's +house on that fatal evening in the disguise of a peasant to bring +destruction on the Jewish community. She told how she had heard the +death rattle of the child during the night. She could not say more +without betraying herself, and so her story tallied with Lea's +confession. The 'black priest' took no apparent interest in the trial. +He probably thought that one victim would suffice for the time, or it +may be that he feared the discovery of his crime.</p> + +<p>"The Graf's judges pronounced Lea guilty, and condemned her to be broken +on the wheel in the market-place, and there beheaded. The wooden block +in front of the Dominican monastery was placed there for this purpose.</p> + +<p>"But Lea did not die on the scaffold; she died peacefully in her own +house forty years later, surrounded by her children and grandchildren; +for Austrian military law was proclaimed in the district before Graf +Bortynski's people had had time to execute the sentence pronounced upon +Lea, and an Austrian Government official, whose duty it was to try +criminal cases, examined the evidence against her. Samuel went to him +and told him the whole story, and he, after due inquiry, set Lea free.</p> + +<p>"The wooden block is still standing. It reminds us of the old dark days +of our oppression. But it also reminds us of the noble and heroic action +by which a weak woman saved the community....</p> + +<p>"And eighty years after that, my friends—eighty years after that—when +we were once more in danger of losing our lives, who was it that saved +us? Not a woman this time; but a timid little man whom no one could have +imagined capable of a courageous action, and whose name I have only to +mention to send you into a fit of laughter. It was little Mendele.... +Ah, see now how you are chuckling! Well, well, I can't blame you, for he +is a very queer little man. He knows many a merry tale, and tells them +very amusingly. And then it is certainly a very strange thing to see a +gray-haired man no taller than a child, and with the ways and heart of a +child. He used to dance and sing all day long. I don't think that any +one ever saw him quiet. Even now he does not walk down a street, but +trots instead; he does not talk, but sings, and his hands seem to have +been given him for no other use but to beat time. But—what of that? It +is better to keep a cheerful heart than to wear a look of hypocritical +solemnity. Mendele Abenstern is a great singer, and we may well be proud +of having him for our <i>chazzân</i> (deacon). It is true that he sometimes +rattles off a touching prayer as if it were a waltz, and that when +reading the Thorah he fidgets about from one leg to the other as if he +were a dancer at a theatre. But these little peculiarities of his never +interfere with our devotions, for we have been accustomed to Mendele and +his ways for the last forty years, and if any one happens to get +irritated with him now and then, he takes care not to vent it on the +manikin. He can not help remembering, you see, that little Mendele can +be grave enough at times, and that the poor <i>chazzân</i> once did the town +greater service by his gift of song than all the wise and rich could +accomplish by their wisdom or their wealth.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you how that came to pass.</p> + +<p>"You know that a Jew is looked upon nowadays as a man like every one +else; and that if any noble or peasant dares to strike or oppress a Jew, +the latter can at once bring his assailant before the Austrian district +judge at the court-hall, and Herr von Negrusz punishes the offender for +his injustice. But before the great year when the Emperor proclaimed +that all men had equal rights, it was not so. In those old days, the +lord of the manor exercised justice within the bounds of his territory +by means of his agent; but what was called justice by these men was +generally great injustice. Ah, my friends, those were hard times! The +land belonged to the lord of the manor, and so did all the people who +lived on it; and the very air and water were his also. It was not only +in the villages that this was the case, but in the towns too, especially +when they belonged to a noble, and when their inhabitants were Jews. The +noble was lord of all, and ruled over his subjects through his agent or +<i>mandatar</i>.</p> + +<p>"At least it was so with us in Barnow. Our master, Graf Bortynski, lived +in Paris all the year round, and gave himself no trouble about his +estates or their management. His agent was supreme in Barnow, and was to +all intents and purposes our master. So we always used to pray that the +<i>mandatar</i> might be a good man, who would allow us to live in peace and +quietness. And at first God answered our prayers, for stout old Herr +Stephan Grudza was as easy-tempered a man as we Jews could have desired. +It's true that he used to drink from morning till night, but he was +always good-natured in his cups, and would not for the world have made +any one miserable when he was merry. But one day, after making a +particularly good dinner, he was seized with apoplexy and died. The +whole district mourned for him, and so did we Jews of Barnow. For, in +the first place, Herr Grudza had been kind to every one; and in the +second—who knew what his successor would be like!</p> + +<p>"Our fears were well grounded.</p> + +<p>"The new <i>mandatar</i>, Friedrich Wollmann, was a German. Now the Germans +had hitherto treated us less harshly than the Poles. The new agent, +however, was an exception to this rule. He was a tall, thin man, with +black hair and bright black eyes. His expression was stern and +sad—always, always—no one ever saw him smile. He was a good manager, +and soon got the estate into order; he also insisted on the laws being +obeyed; taught evil-doers that he was not a man to be trifled with; and +I am quite sure that no one with whom he had any dealings defrauded him +of a halfpenny. But he hated us Jews with a deadly hatred, and did us +all as much harm as he could. He increased our taxes threefold—sent our +sons away to be soldiers—disturbed our feasts—and whenever we had a +lawsuit with a Christian, the Christian's word was always taken, while +ours was disbelieved. He was very hard upon the peasants too—in fact, +they said that no other agent at Barnow had ever been known to exact the +<i>robot</i> due from the villein to his lord with so much severity, and yet +in that matter he acted within the letter of the law; and so there was a +sort of justice in his mode of procedure. But as soon as he had anything +to do with a Jew, he forgot both reason and justice.</p> + +<p>"Why did he persecute us so vehemently? No one knew for certain, but we +all guessed. It was said that he used to be called Troim Wollmann, and +that he was a Christianized Jew from Posen; that he had forsworn his +religion from love for a Christian girl, and that the Jews of his native +place had persecuted and calumniated him so terribly in consequence of +his apostasy, that the girl's parents had broken off their daughter's +engagement to him. I do not know who told us this, but no one could deny +the probability of the story who ever had looked him in the face, or had +watched the mode of treating us.</p> + +<p>"So our days were sad and full of foreboding for the future. Wollmann +oppressed and squeezed us whether we owed him money or not, and none +that displeased him had a chance of escape. Thus matters stood in the +autumn before the great year.</p> + +<p>"It isn't the pleasantest thing in the world for a Jew to be an Austrian +soldier, but if one of our race is sent into the Russian service his +fate is worse than death. He is thenceforward lost to God, to his +parents, and to himself. Is it, then, a matter for surprise that the +Russian Jews should gladly spend their last penny to buy their +children's freedom from military service, or that any youth, whose +people are too poor to ransom him, should fly over the border to escape +his fate? Many such cases are known: some of the fugitives are caught +before they have crossed the frontiers of Russia, and it would have been +better for them if they had never been born; but some make good their +escape into Moldavia, or into our part of Austrian Poland. Well, it +happened that about that time a Jewish conscript—born at +Berdiezow—escaped over the frontier near Hussintyn, and was sent on to +Barnow from thence. The community did what they could for him, and a +rich, kind-hearted man, Chaim Grünstein, father-in-law of Moses +Freudenthal, took him into his service as groom.</p> + +<p>"The Russian Government of course wanted to get the fugitive back into +their hands, and our officials received orders to look for him.</p> + +<p>"Our <i>mandatar</i> got the same order as the others. He at once sent for +the elders of our congregation and questioned them on the subject. They +were inwardly much afraid, but outwardly they made no sign, and denied +all knowledge of the stranger. It was on the eve of the Day of Atonement +that this took place—and how could they have entered the presence of +God that evening if they had betrayed their brother in the faith? So +they remained firm in spite of the agent's threats and rage. When he +perceived that they either knew nothing or would confess nothing, he let +them go with these dark words of warning: 'It will be the worse for you +if I find the youth in Barnow. You do not know me yet, but—I swear that +you shall know me then!'</p> + +<p>"The elders went home, and I need hardly tell you that the hearts of the +whole community sank on hearing Wollmann's threat. The young man they +were protecting was a hard-working honest fellow, but even if he had +been different, it wouldn't have mattered—he was a Jew, and none of +them would have forsaken him in his adversity. If he remained in Barnow, +the danger to him and to all of them was great, for the <i>mandatar</i> would +find him out sooner or later—nothing could be kept from him for long. +But if they sent him away without a passport or naturalization papers, +he would of course be arrested very soon. After a long consultation, +Chaim Grünstein had a happy inspiration. One of his relations was a +tenant-farmer in Marmaros, in Hungary. The young man should be sent to +him on the night following the Day of Atonement, and should be desired +to make the whole journey by night for fear of discovery. In this +manner he could best escape from his enemies.</p> + +<p>"They all agreed that the idea was a good one, and then partook with +lightened hearts of the feast which was to strengthen them for their +fast on the Day of Atonement. Dusk began to fall. The synagogue was +lighted up with numerous wax-candles, and the whole community hastened +there with a broken and a contrite heart to confess their sins before +God; for at that solemn fast we meet to pray to the Judge of all men to +be gracious to us, and of His mercy to forgive us our trespasses. The +women were all dressed in white, and the men in white grave-clothes. +Chaim Grünstein and his household were there to humble themselves before +the Lord, and among them was the poor fugitive, who was trembling in +every limb with fear lest he should fall into the hands of his enemies.</p> + +<p>"All were assembled, and divine service was about to begin. Little +Mendele had placed the flat of his hand upon his throat in order to +bring out the first notes of the 'Kol-Nidra' with fitting tremulousness, +when he was interrupted by a disturbance at the door. The entrance of +the synagogue was beset by the Graf's men-at-arms, and Herr Wollmann was +seen walking up the aisle between the rows of seats. The intruder +advanced until he stood beside the ark of the covenant and quite close +to little Mendele, who drew back in terror, but the elders of the +congregation came forward with quiet humility.</p> + +<p>"'I know that the young man is here,' said Wollmann; 'will you give him +up now?'</p> + +<p>"The men were silent.</p> + +<p>"'Very well,' continued the <i>mandatar</i>, 'I see that kindness has no +effect upon you. I will arrest him after service when you leave the +synagogue. And I warn you that both he and you shall have cause to +remember this evening. But now, don't let me disturb you; go on with +your prayers. I have time to wait.'</p> + +<p>"A silence as of death reigned in the synagogue. It was at length broken +by a shrill cry from the women's gallery. The whole congregation was at +first stupefied with fear. But after a time every one began to regain +his self-command, and to raise his eyes to God for help. Without a word +each went back to his seat.</p> + +<p>"Little Mendele trembled in every limb; but all at once he drew himself +up and began to sing the 'Kol-Nidra,' that ancient simple melody, which +no one who has ever heard can forget. His voice at first sounded weak +and quavering, but it gradually gained strength and volume, filled the +edifice, thrilled the hearts of all the worshipers, and rose up to the +throne of God. Little Mendele never again sang as he did that evening. +He seemed as though he were inspired. When he was singing in that +marvelous way, he ceased to be the absurd little man he had always +hitherto been, and became a priest pleading with God for his people. He +reminded us of the former glories of our race, and then of the many, +many centuries of ignominy and persecution that had followed. In the +sound of his voice we could hear the story of the way in which we had +been chased from place to place—never suffered to rest long anywhere; +of how we were the poorest of the poor, the most wretched among the +miserable of the earth; and how the days of our persecution were not yet +ended, but ever new oppressors rose against us and ground us down with +an iron hand. The tale of our woes might be heard in his voice—of our +unspeakable woes and our innumerable tears. But there was something else +to be heard in it too. It told us in triumphant tones of our pride in +our nation, and of our confidence and <i>trust in God</i>. Ah me! I can never +describe the way little Mendele sang that evening; he made us weep for +our desolation, and yet restored our courage and our trust....</p> + +<p>"The women were sobbing aloud when he ceased; even the men were weeping; +but little Mendele hid his face in his hands and fainted.</p> + +<p>"At the beginning of the service Wollmann had kept his eyes fixed on the +ark of the covenant, but as it went on he had to turn away. He was very +pale, and his knees shook so that, strong man as he was, he could hardly +stand. His eyes shone as though through tears. With trembling steps and +bowed head he slowly passed Mendele, and walked down the aisle to the +entrance-door. Then he gave the soldiers a sign to follow him.</p> + +<p>"Every one guessed what had happened, but no one spoke of it.</p> + +<p>"He sent for Chaim Grünstein on the day after the fast, and, giving him +a blank passport, said, 'It will perhaps be useful to you.'</p> + +<p>"From that time forward he treated us with greater toleration; but his +power did not last long. The peasants, whom he had formerly oppressed, +rose against him in the spring of the Great Year, and put him to +death...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Now, my friends, this is the story of the Two Saviours of the Jews of +Barnow. Let it teach you to think twice before saying who is great and +who is small, who is weak and who is mighty!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CHILD_OF_ATONEMENT" id="THE_CHILD_OF_ATONEMENT"></a>"THE CHILD OF ATONEMENT."</h2> + +<h3>(1872.)</h3> + + +<p>The heroine of this story is a child. Her name was Lea, and at the time +of which the story treats, she was four years old. She had glossy black +hair and large dark eyes. Her eyes, however, were not bright, for it +seemed as if a shadow lay on her pale delicate face. She was the child +of poor people, and had only one frock, which was patched all over—the +same for Saturdays as for the other days of the week. It was hardly +possible to distinguish the original color of the yellow gabardine.</p> + +<p>But that was not the cause of the sadness of her expression, for what +did Lea know of poverty? Every day her appetite was satisfied, or at any +rate half satisfied; and every day she played in the sunshine as long as +she liked.</p> + +<p>She had the most beautiful playground that could be desired—large, +green, quiet, and full of countless flowers, and of elders bowing their +blossom-laden heads over many resting-places. Lea's playground was the +Jewish cemetery at Barnow. It was strange to see the serious child +wandering among the graves, or sitting on a stone watching the merry +cockchafers running about in the grass; but this was not the cause of +the shade of sadness on her face.</p> + +<p>What did Lea know of death? She knew that her father was dead, and that +death meant sleep, and never, never to be hungry more. How, then, could +the daily sight of the graves have saddened her?...</p> + +<p>No, it had not; and the Jews of Barnow were also wrong when they said, +"The child is a child of atonement; how can its face be otherwise than +sad?"</p> + +<p>No; every trace of suffering in her pale face was an inheritance.</p> + +<p>Poor Miriam Goldstein had borne the child beneath a heart that was heavy +with grief and sorrow. Bitter tears had fallen upon the face of the +little creature that lay upon her bosom. Such tears dry, but they leave +their traces. Lea bore upon her countenance the marks of the tears shed +by her mother.</p> + +<p>Later, as the child grew older, her mother ceased to weep. The poor +widow had no time for tears. She had to work all day long, and when she +came home at night, she sank exhausted on her bed. Even when she +wakened, and mused upon her hard sad lot, she did not weep, for she +could always comfort herself with the reflection, "Thank God! the child +and I are not obliged to beg or starve. Thank God! the child is well."</p> + +<p>"The child is well."</p> + +<p>Miriam Goldstein, widow of the gravedigger at Barnow, who received from +the community as her widow's portion the grant of a little room in the +cottage near the gate of the cemetery, and who worked in other people's +houses all day long, did not weep during any sleepless hours that might +come to her at night, because—her child was well. I ask all +mothers—had Miriam Goldstein any cause for tears?</p> + +<p>The days came and went. Little Lea was now four years old. She played on +the grave-mounds during the long, bright summer days, crept about under +the branches of the elder bushes quietly and happily, and beneath the +clothes which her mother had hung up in long lines above the graves to +dry.</p> + +<p>Soon autumn came with its long damp evenings. It became dark early, and +when Miriam was detained till a late hour, Lea used to wait for her +patiently in their little room. She knew that ere long she would hear +her mother's step outside, and her voice calling her as she opened the +door. She could then run into her arms, and a fire would soon be burning +to cook a warm supper.</p> + +<p>But once, on a raw, cold September night, it was not so. The washerwoman +came home and called her child, but no answer came.</p> + +<p>Trembling, she struck a light. The room was empty.</p> + +<p>"Lea!" she cried again, loudly and sharply.</p> + +<p>Still no answer. She let her hands fall helplessly at her sides. +Recovering herself quickly, she rushed into the room of her neighbor, +the gravedigger who had formerly been under her husband, and who had +succeeded to his place.</p> + +<p>"My child!" she cried; "where is my child?"</p> + +<p>The man and his wife stared at her as if she were mad.</p> + +<p>"How should we know?" they at length answered, with hesitation.</p> + +<p>"She is gone! Oh, help me, help me!" the mother cried in desperation, as +she turned and hurried out into the dark burial-ground.</p> + +<p>The gravedigger's wife searched the highroad which leads toward the +town, while the man followed Miriam.</p> + +<p>He distinguished her dark figure amongst the mounds and headstones, but +he was unable to over-take her. She was running wildly over every +obstacle, now stepping on a gravestone, and again stumbling over the +root of a tree, calling her child loudly as she ran. The man knew the +place well, and its terrors had become commonplace in his eyes; but +still his hair stood on end with fear, as he ran in the dark over the +graves, and the mother's despairing cry fell on his ears.</p> + +<p>They both neared the spot where the burial-ground is bounded by the +deep, sluggish river Lered. "The fence is broken," muttered the man, and +he tried not to follow up the thought that had occurred to him.</p> + +<p>But fate had been merciful.</p> + +<p>As they hastened along by the side of the fence, and Miriam, with an +almost failing voice, called her child, suddenly, from behind a +gravestone, a thin trembling voice answered—"Mother!"</p> + +<p>The little girl had run about the whole day. When the dusk had surprised +her in this distant place, she had sat down and fallen asleep.</p> + +<p>The child only half comprehended why her mother seized her hastily in +her arms, and pressed her to her breast, covering her little face with a +thousand kisses and tears.</p> + +<p>Slowly Miriam carried her home, the gravedigger following and rejoicing, +while he shook his head, and murmured: "It wouldn't have surprised me +had we found the child dead. Not at all! The Great Death is coming near +us again. They say that it has already reached the Turks!..."</p> + +<p>Miriam did not hear these strange words. She carried the child into her +little room, and put her in bed even more tenderly than usual, smoothing +her hair off her brow, and kissing her mouth again and again.</p> + +<p>Then she visited her neighbors, and thanked them in woman's fashion, in +many words. After that, she returned to her own room, and thanked God +with a long silent look upward.</p> + +<p>She could not sleep, so she crouched beside the bed, and watched her +sleeping child. But, heavens! what was the matter? The poor woman's +blood turned cold, for Lea's usually pale face was flushed with fever, +and she was breathing quickly and stertorously. Her hands and feet were +cold, and her head was burning hot.</p> + +<p>"Lea, are you ill?" cried Miriam. "Speak, my life!"</p> + +<p>Hearing her voice, the child opened her eyes, but they were no longer +lusterless. A strange unnatural light glowed in them. "I am cold," she +lisped, drawing the bed-clothes about her.</p> + +<p>"She will die!..." was Miriam's muttered thought, and she felt paralyzed +for the moment. Recovering herself, however, she took her thin shawl +from her shoulders, and her best gown from her box, and spread them over +the child. Lea's teeth were chattering. She shivered with cold, though +she seemed but half conscious.</p> + +<p>Miriam once more hurried to her neighbors' room, and knocked at their +closed door. She wished to beg them to come and tell her what was the +matter with her child; for a Jewish gravedigger is required to visit the +sick as well as to bury the dead. When the doctor is not called in, the +gravedigger is sent for. But the man had gone to the town to keep the +night-watch over the body of rich Moses Freudenthal. His wife came, +however, and staid with the poor widow, in hopes of comforting her.</p> + +<p>"It is only a fever," she said, consolingly. "The child has caught cold, +and it is only a common fever. See, burning heat follows a shivering +fit."</p> + +<p>In fact, Lea's fever soon ran so high, that all her bed-clothes had to +be taken off. The women made a strong herb tea, but the child would not +drink it.</p> + +<p>The terrible night passed very slowly.</p> + +<p>In the morning, when the gravedigger came home from his sad vigil, he +went to see the sick child. On seeing her, he shook his head. The mother +wrung her hands in despair when she saw his gesture, and gave utterance +to a low moan. He pitied her, and said slowly: "It isn't a dangerous +kind of fever. Lea will soon be well."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the truth," cried Miriam; "but I shall send for the doctor +whether the illness is dangerous or not."</p> + +<p>The gravedigger shrugged his shoulders. "The doctor has been at the +muster at Zalesczyki for the last eight days. But even if he were +here.... No doctor can help the child!"</p> + +<p>"Must she die?" asked Miriam.</p> + +<p>"No <i>doctor</i>, I say," answered the gravedigger slowly, "but a holy rabbi +might save her. Old Moses Freudenthal's funeral is to take place to-day, +and our rabbi is going to attend. Ask him to see the child, and bless +it. He is a holy man—perhaps he is strong enough to save it, and +perhaps he will give you advice."</p> + +<p>So saying, he went away to prepare the grave. His wife followed him.</p> + +<p>"I may as well dig two graves," said he, as he struck his spade into the +ground.</p> + +<p>"You mean for the child?" asked his wife. "Poor Miriam—God spare +her!..."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, "it makes my heart ache. But no man can save her. +They say that the Great Death is coming again. God will spare us. He +will only take the 'child of atonement' that we have delivered up to +Him."</p> + +<p>"In God's name," cried the woman, "why should an innocent life be +taken."</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders, and asked: "Would you pretend to be more +holy than our holy rabbi? Are you more just than the great Reb Grolce, +the wonder-working rabbi of Sadagóra, who has ordained it so?"</p> + +<p>The woman was silent.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>What had the wonder-working rabbi ordained? And why did they call the +child a "child of atonement"?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>... Mysteriously, irresistibly, the destroying-angel of the Lord brought +an unknown plague into every land in the terrible year 1831. It was +called the cholera. It came from the far East, and spread onward to the +far West, devastating the towns, and filling the cemeteries. It fell +heavily on the dirty, poverty-stricken villages in the Podolian plain. +Countless numbers of the inhabitants died like flies, and enough were +not left to bury the dead. No remedies saved life; no precautions +protected it. Stolid resignation, or else angry desperation, possessed +the people. And God permitted all this misery, and from God no help +came! They called upon Him and He did not hear!...</p> + +<p>Why? Why?</p> + +<p>Was it not <i>their</i> God whom they implored, the God of their fathers, the +almighty, the just, and the only God? Had He no longer ears to hear, or +arms to help? Why did He suddenly turn against His own people? Why did +He not protect the good and the just among them?</p> + +<p>The minds of the unhappy people began to waver. They had but one beacon +to direct their lives—their faith; and their faith betrayed them. They +could not comprehend it.</p> + +<p>Then another thought occurred to them—a fearful and crushing thought, +and yet it brought comfort. Was not their God a God of vengeance? Was He +not a jealous God, who exacted, for every offense, a fearful and +inexorable atonement? And now, when He caused the evil and the good to +suffer alike, was it not probably because the wicked sinned, and the +good allowed their sins to pass unpunished?</p> + +<p>"We will purify ourselves," the suffering people cried aloud in their +agony. "We will seek the offender in our midst, and by his punishment we +will atone, and save ourselves from the wrath of God...."</p> + +<p>And they purified themselves....</p> + +<p>A tribunal was formed by the people—an awful court, which tried in +secret, judged in secret, and punished in secret. It was stern and +inexorable in the execution of its decrees, and no one could escape from +it. It "vindicated God's holy name," and caused the hour of retribution +to strike for many criminals who had evaded the laws. But with how much +innocent blood had these fanatics stained their hands! Deeds were done +in those dark days of madness and terror that chill the blood, and make +the historian, who attempts to describe them, falter.</p> + +<p>The pestilence became more and more terrible. The few doctors that +remained folded their hands.</p> + +<p>They could not alleviate the suffering of the people, far less could +they save their lives.</p> + +<p>Men ceased to persecute each other for real or imaginary sins. The +growing burden of misfortune took away their spirit, and made them +faint-hearted. They even prayed no longer; a mediator had to pray for +them.</p> + +<p>The intercessor they chose was the rabbi of Sadagóra, a little town in +Bukowina. This man was called the "wonder-worker," on account of all +that he had done, or was supposed to have done, for the people. To him +the Podolian Jews turned in their dire necessity, imploring him to save +them, by beseeching God in his own name, a powerful name; for it was +believed that from his race the Redeemer was to spring: and it was said +that he had upon the palms of his hands the stamp of the royal line of +David. This mark was the outline of a lion imprinted upon the skin, and +it was a sign that his mission was from God. Money and precious gifts +were collected, and were given to the rabbi to insure his intercession +with God; even the poor gave all that they possessed.</p> + +<p>The disinterested rabbi promised to help the people. "You have all +sinned against God," he said, "and you must all do penance."</p> + +<p>He made a calendar of the days of expiation, and the days of fasting and +mortification were punctually kept. Fear of death insured the +fulfillment of all his injunctions. It may sound incredible, but it is +literally true, that during this time the whole Eastern Jewish +population only ate and drank every second day.</p> + +<p>The result of this may be easily imagined. Their weakened frames were +all the more liable to be smitten by the disease.</p> + +<p>The renown of the rabbi was at stake, and with it the profits of his +calling. He adopted another expedient.</p> + +<p>"God is pleased," he said, "by an increase of His faithful people. Let +each community choose a couple from its number, and marry them in the +burial-ground—as a sacrifice to the angry God."</p> + +<p>This new remedy had different consequences. In many places, the +assemblage of crowds of people in the graveyards, in order to be present +at the marriage ceremonies, helped to spread the plague. In other +places, however, the insane remedy was harmless, as the "Great Death" +was already passing away, and was soon to become extinct.</p> + +<p>This means of propitiation was not soon forgotten; and in the year 1848, +when, along with freedom, poverty came, bringing the "Great Death" in +its train across the Eastern steppes, the panic-stricken people resorted +to it again. These appalling marriages were solemnized everywhere.</p> + +<p>One took place in Barnow. The unfortunate couple who were +chosen—without any wish of their own, but by the will of the +tyrants—to be endowed with a marriage-portion of misery, and to be made +man and wife among the freshly dug graves, were Nathan Goldstein, the +gravedigger, and Miriam Roth, a friendless orphan, and maid-servant in +the house of the warden of the community. They saw each other for the +first time when they plighted their troth under the open sky.</p> + +<p>The couple, who were thus suddenly and horribly set apart to atone for +the sins of the congregation, were resigned, and even happy. None knew +better than these poor dependants how to appreciate the blessings of a +home.</p> + +<p>Miriam and Nathan were happy in their married life, and two children +were born to them. Their first great grief was the loss of both of their +children, who fell ill, and died within a few days of each other in the +year 1859. God, however, repaired the loss, for in the spring of the +following year, Miriam knew she was again to be a mother.</p> + +<p>That summer, the destroying-angel once more came from the East, and +brought a fearful scourge upon the neglected Jewish villages of the +great Podolian plain.</p> + +<p>Barnow was spared. One victim alone was taken—Nathan the gravedigger. +The widow's grief knew no bounds, and she was left in an utterly +helpless condition. The community, on the other hand, rejoiced at their +happy escape from the plague, which died out altogether. They sent the +good news, with grateful thanks and presents, to Sadagóra, where the son +of the late wonder-working rabbi had succeeded to his father's office. +The rabbi accepted the gifts, but declined the thanks; and when the +deputation informed him of the one death that had taken place, he said: +"God was well pleased with you when He withdrew the plague eleven years +ago, after you had made a sacrifice to Him; but the people you chose to +dedicate to Him did not please Him, so their children died. Now the man +has died as a sin-offering for you all. If the woman has another child, +it also will only live to be a sin-offering."</p> + +<p>So spoke the rabbi, for the gravedigger's widow could give him no +present. The men returned home and reported what he had said.</p> + +<p>Miriam heard of it, and wept bitterly. But she had little time for +weeping. She had to work hard to keep herself and her child from +starvation.</p> + +<p>So the years passed, until the sad autumn of 1863 came. The Poles had +risen against the great Eastern nation, and a whispered rumor went +through the land, that pestilence, the terrible sister of war, was again +aroused.</p> + +<p>Therefore the gravedigger did not believe that little Lea, "the child of +atonement," would live.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The funeral of old Moses Freudenthal was over. He was a very old man, +and few mourners followed him to the grave. After the service was over, +these went away immediately, and the old rabbi, also, did not linger. +The widow had humbly waited for this moment to step forward and ask the +rabbi to come and see her child. She added no word of entreaty, but +something in the tone of her voice, and in the expression of her eyes, +involuntarily touched the heart of the old man. This woman embarrassed +him—for was she not displeasing to God? Was not the destiny of the +child well known—this "child of atonement"?...</p> + +<p>But he went to the little house, and entered the room where the sick +child lay. He bent over the bed, and looked at her in silence for a +length of time. His expression was stern and harsh when he raised his +head.</p> + +<p>With intense anxiety the mother waited for him to speak, but the old man +turned to go without uttering a word.</p> + +<p>"Will you not bless the child?" asked the widow.</p> + +<p>"Woman," answered the rabbi, gloomily, "no blessing can save her; and +besides, I can not do it: it would be interfering with the Almighty."</p> + +<p>Miriam threw herself upon the bed, with a loud cry, clasping the +unconscious child to her heart, as though she would save her from every +one, even from God. "Why," she cried, "why, rabbi?"</p> + +<p>The old man looked at her darkly, then his eyes, as if confused, sought +the ground. "You know," he said with hesitation, "why you and your +husband were married. You know why he died, and what was the object of +his death. You know the word that the great rabbi of Sadagóra has spoken +concerning you and your child. And ... now ... the 'Great Death' is +coming again...."</p> + +<p>The woman understood him. "Ah," she whispered, in a low voice of +indescribable scorn. With flaming eyes and glowing face she rose from +the bed, so that she stood opposite the rabbi, and hissed out, "You lie, +rabbi, you lie! My child shall not die!... God is wise, gracious, and +just; but you, neither you, nor any of the others, are like God! You +want to be just, and yet you demand that an innocent child should +expiate your sins by its death! You want to be gracious, and yet you +desire the death of another! You want to be wise, and yet you believe +that God will allow this—our good, strong, just God!"</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands over her forehead, tottered, and sank fainting on +the floor.</p> + +<p>"May God judge between you and me!" murmured the old man as he left the +room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A day and night passed, and it seemed as if God must quickly decide +between the poor woman and the rabbi. It appeared as if He would be on +the side of the rabbi, and of hard, stubborn mankind. When the gray +light of the second morning dawned, and the flame of the night-light +wavered in the draught of the cold autumn wind, which made its way +through the badly fitting window-frame, the young life flickered under +the icy breath of death, like a dying torch.</p> + +<p>The mother wept no more.</p> + +<p>She wept no more. The fountain of her tears was dried up, for the +deepest grief is tearless. With dry, straining eyes she knelt by the +bedside. Only at intervals, when the fever was at its height, she rose +softly.</p> + +<p>Hours passed, and all throughout the day the room was filled with +visitors. A number of women came and went, and also a few men. Some of +these may have come out of compassion, but most of them came for selfish +reasons of mixed curiosity and pity.</p> + +<p>Miriam saw them around her with indifference. Once only she roused +herself to cry, "Go, go, there is nothing to see; the child is not dying +yet!"</p> + +<p>The people who were in the room went away reproved....</p> + +<p>In the afternoon a carriage stopped at the cottage door. It was the +warden's britzska, and a very old woman was seated in it. As she could +not move without assistance, the servants lifted her out carefully, and +carried her into the house. It was Sarah Grün, widow of a former warden +of the community, and mother of Frau Hanna, whose stories were so +deservedly popular in Barnow. Hanna was sixty years of age, and was +nicknamed "Babele" (grannie), and Sarah, who was ninety, was called +"Urbabele" (great-grandmother). They were known by these names to every +one, great and small, Christian and Jewish, in the little town, and +their superior age, wisdom, and knowledge were much respected. Miriam +had formerly been a servant in their house, and had won the love of the +old woman, who, notwithstanding the opposition of her friends, had now +come to see her.</p> + +<p>She was carried into the room, and put down on a chair. Miriam glanced +indifferently toward her, then seeing who she was, her eyes brightened. +"Urbabele!" she cried, throwing herself at the feet of the old +woman—"Urbabele, God bless you!..."</p> + +<p>She could not say more. Sobs stifled her voice, for at last she wept. +The old woman passed her hand gently over her bent head. "Do not speak," +she said; "I know your trouble—we all know it.... Do not speak, but +hear what I have to propose; listen quietly...."</p> + +<p>Her own tears were flowing, and falling over her pale sweet face as she +spoke.</p> + +<p>"I do not know—I am an old woman, my feet refuse to carry me, and my +head is not as strong as it was—but I believe we are wrong in letting +your child die. Yes, very wrong; for I do not believe it to be God's +will that she should die, nor the will of the great rabbi of +Sadagóra—since he is inspired by the spirit of God...."</p> + +<p>The old woman paused for a moment, shaking her head as if she wished to +negative some thought that had risen to her mind. Then she continued:</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has certainly done great wonders. God's spirit moves him, and +he has spoken His will concerning you and your child. We must believe +what he says. I say that, whether we wish or not, we <i>must</i> believe him. +For if we lose our faith in him, we lose our faith in everything.... +Therefore our rabbi did not deserve the hard things you said to him +yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if you only knew!..."</p> + +<p>"Do not speak!" said the old woman, emphatically, as if she wished to +impress each word on the widow's mind; "do not speak, do not excuse +yourself. You need no excuse. My God! who could blame you, when your +child's life was at stake? I can not, for I also am a mother.... But +listen to me: whatever the rabbi ordains must be—as you know.... I have +thought of everything, and your only chance is to go to Sadagóra, and +beg for the life of your child."</p> + +<p>"And leave her alone, when she is ill?" cried Miriam.</p> + +<p>"I will do all I can for her," said the old woman; and the gravedigger's +wife added, "I will nurse her as if she were my own child."</p> + +<p>"Must I go?" cried the unhappy mother.</p> + +<p>"You must," answered the old woman decidedly; but she added more +gently, "at least it seems that you ought to go, but God alone knows +what is right. Ah, Miriam, you do not know how much I have thought and +suffered for you and your child! For eighty years of my life, I have +never lost my faith in God and in His prophets, and now I begin to +doubt!"</p> + +<p>Then she collected herself, and said in a tone of command: "Miriam, you +<i>must</i> go to the rabbi. Tomorrow morning early, Simon the carrier is +going to start for Czernowitz, with two women. He will take you as far +as Sadagóra. I will engage your seat for you in the cart; and here is +money for going and returning. In three days you can be home again, and +I am convinced you will find Lea getting better. Will you go, Miriam? It +concerns the whole town—but that is nothing to you—it concerns your +child that you should go."</p> + +<p>The poor woman had a hard struggle. Her old belief in God had been +without avail, for the child was growing weaker. As a drowning man +catches at a straw, she determined to beseech forbearance from the man +whom she had cursed.</p> + +<p>"I will go," she said, with a sort of agony.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And she did go.</p> + +<p>Next morning she started with Simon and the two women, passing out of +the town, and along the highroad which leads southward into Bukowina. +What she suffered in taking leave of her child shall not be here +described; there is enough that is sad in my story.</p> + +<p>The sun was rising. It was a cold, dull September sun, and it shone with +a pale light upon the flat desolate country, and upon the cart which +crawled slowly along the muddy highroad. The clouds were gathering like +a thick veil, and the day became more and more dull as the clouds grew +heavier.</p> + +<p>The soft, mild autumn wind sighed across the plain, and at times a gust +shook the canvas awning of the cart.</p> + +<p>The horses made their way slowly along the broad neglected road, beneath +the leafless dripping trees, and past mist-enshrouded pools and poor +villages, which looked doubly miserable on this miserable day. In many +places the road was axle-deep in mud, so that the cart stuck fast. Simon +and the three women had to dismount and push, in order to get it under +way again. Miriam was certainly the weakest of the party, but she worked +the hardest. She only roused herself at these times. Generally she sat +with closed eyes, as if asleep.</p> + +<p>She went through terrible suffering. Her eyes were shut, but vivid +pictures were continually before them. She thought she saw her child +stretching out her little arms toward her. Some one seemed to bend over +the little girl. Was it the gravedigger's wife? No, it was not she, it +was a white-robed figure, with a pale bloodless countenance, like the +Angel of Death....</p> + +<p>Another moment she imagined she was in the presence of the great rabbi +of Sadagóra. He looked stern and hard, but she entreated him earnestly, +as only a mother can entreat, for the life of her child, and he drove +her away with cruel words. She thought she came back and found her child +dead!... And again she pictured to herself that he received her kindly, +saying, "Your child shall live," and she came home and found Lea +dead ... dead!...</p> + +<p>It was frightful!... The mild autumn wind still blew across the heath; +but was it only the plaintive sound of the wind that reached her ears? +When it blew a little stronger she thought it sounded like Lea's voice, +crying, "Mother!... Mother!..."</p> + +<p>"Did you hear anything?" cried Miriam wildly, seizing the hand of the +woman nearest her....</p> + +<p>At about two o'clock in the afternoon the cart stopped at a large, +lonely tavern by the roadside, between Thuste and Zalesczyki. The horses +were to rest here before proceeding farther. A well-appointed traveling +carriage, out of which the horses had been taken, stood at the door, +bespattered with mud as though from a long journey.</p> + +<p>"Miriam, we are to stop here for two hours," said the carrier.</p> + +<p>The women added compassionately, "Come, Miriam, get out. You will be ill +if you don't eat some warm food."</p> + +<p>Miriam got out of the cart and followed them into the large public room. +"I must not let myself become ill," she murmured half aloud.</p> + +<p>The large room, with its gray damp walls and uneven floor, was almost +empty. One little table alone was occupied. The people seated there were +a young couple in comfortable traveling attire. The man appeared to be +about thirty years of age. He had light hair, and his expression was +good-natured and energetic. His companion was a dark-complexioned and +beautiful woman, whose bright eyes sparkled in her happy, pleasant face. +That they were newly married was evident, and they talked and laughed +and joked as they ate. They were enjoying but a poor meal, consisting of +bread and eggs, for they had considered the prices of the tavern +extortionate.</p> + +<p>The three women sat down in a corner. "That is our Frau Gräfin's head +forester," whispered one woman to the other; "he has just married a +young wife in Czernowitz, and now he must be bringing her home to +Barnow."</p> + +<p>"To Barnow?" asked Miriam hastily; but she sank back in her chair +again—she had to go to Sadagóra.</p> + +<p>The women ordered refreshment, and Miriam ate a mouthful or two. She +soon pushed her plate away, and when Simon came into the room, went up +to him, and asked, "Must we stay here so long?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—because of the horses," he answered. "We must stop here until four +o'clock."</p> + +<p>"So long!" she sighed. "How many miles are we from Barnow!"</p> + +<p>"Only three miles.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> The road is so bad."</p> + +<p>"Only three miles!" she reiterated with dismay. "When shall we arrive at +Sadagóra?"</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow, at noon."</p> + +<p>"The day after to-morrow!" she cried. "Then I can not be at home for six +days, and the Sabbath as well! Seven days—that is a whole week! Oh my +God! my God!"</p> + +<p>She sat down in her corner again, and pressed her hands to her face. But +she could not shut out the pictures that had haunted her on the way. +Again it seemed that she heard the feeble cry of "Mother!... Mother!" +coming through the walls.</p> + +<p>The travelers had overheard her conversation with the carrier, and when +they saw the woman's despair, asked him what was wrong.</p> + +<p>Simon raised his hat respectfully to the gentlefolks, and related +Miriam's story.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, the husband and wife looked at one another.</p> + +<p>"It is dreadful, is it not, Ludmilla?" said the forester. "What a +horrible superstition!..."</p> + +<p>"It is horrible, Karl," answered she. The happy expression left her +face, and she looked at Miriam with the deepest compassion.</p> + +<p>The poor woman still sat motionless with her hands pressed upon her +face. She was shaken with physical pain and feverishness; but the storm +within her breast was infinitely greater.</p> + +<p>The forester paid his bill, and his coachman came and announced that the +carriage was ready. The travelers put on their overcoats, but they did +not seem in a hurry to start.</p> + +<p>"Karl," said the young wife, undecidedly.</p> + +<p>"What do you wish, Ludmilla?"</p> + +<p>"Karl—the poor, poor woman!..."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ludmilla, she is very much to be pitied...." They again paused on +their way to the door.</p> + +<p>Miriam at the same moment let her hands fall, after passing them over +her face, as if to clear her thoughts. Seeing the travelers ready to go, +she rose and came toward them.</p> + +<p>She looked at the lady with endless petition in her eyes, and folded her +hands as if in prayer to God, but she could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>The lady's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at the pale +grief-stricken face before her. "Can I help you?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"To Barnow," stammered Miriam. "Can you take me to Barnow?"</p> + +<p>"Willingly," answered the lady. "We shall be glad to take you—shall we +not, Karl?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And the rabbi!" screamed the two Jewish women. "Are you not going to +the rabbi?"</p> + +<p>"What will the community say?" objected the carrier.</p> + +<p>"They may say what they like," she answered—"I must go to my child!"</p> + +<p>She seemed to lose her strength again after this effort, and the +gentleman and his servant had almost to carry her to the carriage. They +placed her beside the lady, and the forester took the opposite seat. +Poor Miriam did not observe this, and did not thank him. "Drive as fast +as the horses can go," he said to the coachman, and then she looked at +him gratefully.</p> + +<p>She sat silently beside her newly found friends, only now and then +moving restlessly, as if the pace was too slow.</p> + +<p>The horses went quickly, and it was still daylight when they reached +Barnow. The people in the streets stared at the ill-assorted company in +the carriage, and put their heads together as to what it could mean.</p> + +<p>The lady blushed, but her husband shook his head, and said, "What does +it matter to us?" When they passed the large figure of the Virgin which +stands in a niche of the monastery wall, a sudden thought occurred to +him, and he said softly to his wife: "She was called Miriam (Mary), and +was a poor Jewish woman, and her heart was torn with grief for her +child!"</p> + +<p>It was dark when they stopped at the door of the little cottage by the +graveyard.</p> + +<p>Miriam sprang quickly out of the carriage. "May God reward you!" she +breathlessly ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"Have you a doctor?" asked the gentleman.</p> + +<p>"No," she replied; "the doctor is away, passing the recruits."</p> + +<p>"Then I will send the private physician from the castle to see you," he +shouted.</p> + +<p>Miriam, however, was beyond hearing, as she had hastened into the house.</p> + +<p>The sick child was alone. A lamp threw its light upon her flushed face, +and showed that her skin was covered with moisture. She had only a light +sheet thrown over her.</p> + +<p>Miriam quickly put warm blankets on the bed. "Her skin is moist," she +thought joyfully—"that is a sign of recovery."</p> + +<p>Almost immediately, the gravedigger's wife returned to her charge. She +was much surprised to see Miriam, but she did not venture to reproach +her for coming back.</p> + +<p>"The child was in such a heat," was all she said, "that I took off all +the blankets."</p> + +<p>"That was a mistake," answered Miriam; "it is wrong to check +perspiration."</p> + +<p>Then she knelt by the bed, feeling as if all must now go well.</p> + +<p>An hour later a carriage stopped at the door. It brought the private +physician from the castle.</p> + +<p>He examined the child, felt her pulse, and then covered her carefully +again; after which he desired the women to give him an account of the +illness from beginning to end.</p> + +<p>"She has been in great danger," he said, when they had concluded, "but +that is over now. It was most fortunate that you were aware of the +necessity of keeping her warm when perspiration began."</p> + +<p>Miriam's eyes glistened. "And if we had not been so?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at her with surprise. "What a strange question!..." he +said.</p> + +<p>"Answer me, I entreat!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Well," he replied, hastily, "the child would certainly, or rather, +would probably, have died."</p> + +<p>"God be praised!" cried Miriam, adding, as she turned proudly to her +companion, "Now will you say that God has cursed me, when He has worked +such a miracle for me? It <i>was</i> a miracle that the kind gentlefolks +arrived at the tavern at the same time as I—it <i>was</i> a miracle, for +otherwise my child would have died!"</p> + +<p>The child recovered.</p> + +<p>And what did the people of Barnow say?</p> + +<p>The conviction that a mother's love is strong enough to conquer +ill-will, and bring healing and salvation, would not have made them +cease their rancor toward the widow and her child; but this, in their +eyes, was a visible miracle wrought by God, and such a miracle was of +course more powerful than even a decree of the wonder-working rabbi.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ESTERKA_REGINA" id="ESTERKA_REGINA"></a>ESTERKA REGINA.</h2> + +<h3>(1872.)</h3> + + +<p>Esterka Regina!...</p> + +<p>That was what we school-boys used to call her when we returned home for +the midsummer holidays from the gymnasium at Taropol, or from that at +Czernowitz; and later on, when we were students at the University of +Vienna, we called her by the same name whenever we talked of the girls +at Barnow during any of our meetings with each other. Her real name was +Rachel Welt, and afterward, when she married lanky Chaim, the +cattle-dealer, Rachel Pinkus. She was a poor girl who lived in the +Jewish quarter in Barnow. She lived in the small dwelling close to the +Jewish slaughter-house, and her father, Hirsch Welt, was a butcher. He +was a big burly man, and was disliked because of his rough ways.</p> + +<p>But that did not prevent us admiring her from a distance, and the +Christian <i>élégants</i> of Barnow did the same with less reserve than we. +The unmarried members of the provincial court, instead of walking in the +Graf's garden during their leisure hours—a place where they would have +enjoyed plenty of fresh air and the perfume of flowers—chose rather to +wander up and down the narrow street in front of the slaughter-house, +where but little fresh air and no aromatic odors were to be found. Even +the officers of the garrison never seemed to tire of watching Hirsch +Welt as he used his butcher's knife in strict accordance with Talmudic +law. One and all of these loungers were actuated by the desire to catch +a glance from the bright eyes of Esterka Regina!...</p> + +<p>It was a name that suited her exactly, and there was nothing exaggerated +in it, although a poet had given it her. This poet was Herr Thaddäus +Wiliszewski. He had studied philosophy in Lemberg, but unfortunately +had been unable to pass his examination—a hopeful youth, who always +wore a tightly buttoned Czamara and long hair, and who wrote verses, +either for home use or for the Krakau "Ladies' Journal." The first time +that Herr Thaddäus saw Rachel Welt walking by the river in her poor +Sabbath frock, he exclaimed in delight, "Now I understand the Bible at +last! Esther must have looked like that when the King of Persia turned +away his face and ordered that Haman should die on the gallows; and so +must that other Esther, who induced our good King Kazimirz, the +peasant's friend, to allow the Jews to settle freely in Poland, after +the wise Germans had turned them out. She is Esterka, the queen!" And +from that time forward all the educated people in Barnow called her +nothing but Esterka Regina.</p> + +<p>I repeat that there was no exaggeration in this name. Perhaps I had +better content myself with making this assertion. For were I to add that +her eyes were deep, dark, and bright as the sea on a star-light night, +that her hair was black and perfumed like a southern night, and that her +smile resembled a dream of spring—you would even then have no clearer +idea of her beauty. I knew her, and remember her well. But the thought +of that lovely creature fills my heart with sorrow. Her beauty was +anything but a blessing to the dear child—nay, it was perhaps a curse. +Beautiful, queenly Esterka was very unhappy.</p> + +<p>She is so no longer, nor has she been so for many years. She is happy +now. She is sleeping in the "good place." They laid her there to rest in +peace one spring day long years ago.</p> + +<p>May her sleep be calm and sweet, for she suffered much, and her sorrow +was even greater than her beauty. The cause of her death was entered in +the register as heart complaint, and truly so, for she died of a broken +heart.</p> + +<p>A most unusual thing to die of—far more unusual than any one thinks. +Very few people die of it, and those who most loudly bewail their +misery, and say that they are sure to die of a broken heart, generally +live a long time, and at last die of old age or indigestion.</p> + +<p>Rachel never complained of her lot by word or sigh. She went about the +house as usual, and did her work as long as she could. When her strength +failed her, and she knew that her end was at hand, she sat down +tremblingly and wrote a long letter in the Hebrew character, sealed it, +and then tottered out to the post-office with it. She asked the clerk to +write the address for her in German: "An den wohlgeborenen Herrn Dr. +Adolph Leiblinger, holländischen Stabsartz in Batavia." The young man +smiled when she dictated this address to him, but on glancing at her +face and seeing that the hand of death was upon her, his smile died +away. She got a receipt for the letter which she registered, and then +tottered home and died.</p> + +<p>Hers was a very simple story—simple as all the stories one meets with +in real life, which differ from those thought out in a poet's +brain—inasmuch as life is the greatest and most unrelenting of poets. +When I attempt to transcribe the events of this story, I can not remain +calm and unmoved, for I knew beautiful, unhappy Esterka Regina!...</p> + +<p>I knew her when she was a little girl of seven years old, and I was a +mischievous boy, grumbling at the strict discipline of school. I used to +see her every day at that time. When I ran down the gloomy little street +on cold winter mornings with my satchel of books on my back, I was in +the habit of stopping at the door of the house in which she lived, and +calling out "Aaron! Aaron!" for one of my school-fellows—black +Aaron—lived in a poor garret of the same house with his mother. Hirsch +Welt had given the use of this room out of charity to Chane Leiblinger, +who was the widow of a butcher's man; for she was very poor, and could +scarcely keep herself and her boy from starving by the exercise of her +trade of fruit-seller. The moment I had called Aaron, the door opened +very softly, and little Rachel came out, her hands hidden under her +pinafore. Then the poor boy came down the worm-eaten wooden stairs, +dressed in threadbare clothing, and Rachel hastily thrust the food she +had been hiding in her pinafore into his hand.</p> + +<p>He took it, often with hesitation, and always without a word of thanks; +but he would look at the child strangely and smile. No one who had not +seen it could have believed that that grave, stern-looking boy could +smile, and smile so kindly too!...</p> + +<p>"Aaron, will you come with me to the ice? I am going to slide."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not? You're always so quiet, and your eyes look so gloomy!"</p> + +<p>"What reason have I to be happy? Is poverty such a cheering thing? Cold +is very disagreeable, and so is hunger. Or is it the blows I have to +endure that should make me happy? The schoolmaster beats me, and so do +all the Christian boys; and why? Because we crucified <i>Him</i>? <i>I</i> didn't +crucify Him. Why do they beat me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it'll be all right when we're grown up and are barristers."</p> + +<p>"I shall never be a barrister; I intend to be a very great and very rich +doctor. Then I shall come back to Barnow and say to old Hirsch, 'Here +are a hundred ducats, which will pay off all our arrears of rent.' After +that, the Poles will come to me and entreat me to cure their diseases +and to lend them money; but I shall turn upon them and say, 'Go away, +you dogs!'"</p> + +<p>"And Rachel?"</p> + +<p>"What's that to you? Well—if you really want to know—I intend to marry +Rachel, and when she is my wife she shall wear silk gowns; but they must +be a thousand times more splendid than those that the Gräfin...."</p> + +<p>Aaron Leiblinger was strange and somewhat eccentric even as a boy. There +was nothing very noticeable in his appearance: he was short and +insignificant-looking, and his face was almost ugly, but it was redeemed +by beautiful and expressive eyes. His forehead was low, and the hair +that hung over it was black and curly. He was of a thoughtful +disposition, and many of his ideas were surprising in a boy who was the +son of an ignorant hawker, and who lived in a miserable garret. He made, +or rather forced, his way through life by his quick intelligence, +firmness, and energy. For a time it might have been said of him that he +succeeded in all his aims and desires. His mother had intended him to +help her in her labors as fruit-seller as soon as he had learned to read +the Prayer-book; but Aaron wanted to go to a Thorah school, and he went. +He wanted to learn the Talmud, and to know it better than his +school-fellows, and he succeeded. After that, he wanted to go to the +Christian school—an unheard-of thing—and yet he had his own way.</p> + +<p>The means he employed were unusual. First of all he told his mother of +his determination. The woman was pious and narrow-minded, so she cursed +and swore, and then hastened to tell the members of session with loud +cries and lamentations that her son intended to become a Christian. For +what other reason could induce a Jewish boy to go to a Christian school? +The doctor certainly sent his sons to it; but then, the doctor was only +half a Jew, and wore a "German" suit of clothes. The chiefs of session +praised the woman for her pious zeal, and sent for the boy. He came, and +before they could overwhelm him with the remonstrances and threats they +deemed suitable for the case, he said: "I know all that you would tell +me, so you may save yourselves the trouble of speaking to me. Now, +listen to me, for you don't know what I have to say to you. I intend to +go to the Christian school, for I am determined to learn everything that +can be learned. We need not discuss that point, because my mind is made +up. What we have to settle is, whether I am to do it as a Christian or +as a Jew. My mother can no longer support me—she is growing old—so I +tell you plainly that if you will give me food, clothes, and books, I +will remain a Jew, and will teach the children for that remuneration. If +you refuse, I shall become a Christian—the fat dean will do anything to +secure the salvation of a soul."</p> + +<p>This strange and eccentric address was not ineffectual. The elders of +the congregation bowed before the iron will of the boy, and gave him the +small help that he demanded. He went to the monastery school as a Jew, +in caftan and curls. It was dreadful what he suffered in consequence of +this dress. Perhaps God counted the tears he shed and the blows he +received; he grew tired of counting them, tired of weeping. He bore +everything—injustice and blows, hunger and cold, or the few, very few, +acts of kindness shown him—with the same gloomy and defiant composure. +An unquenchable longing for knowledge and an unquenchable thirst for +vengeance sustained him. His face even quite lost its youthful +expression. My school-fellow, Aaron Leiblinger, was much, very much, to +be pitied.</p> + +<p>But even the poorest life possesses some treasure to which it clings. +The gloomy, reserved boy loved little Rachel dearly. His face softened +strangely and touchingly when he was talking to her. I used to feel, +though I could not have told why, that it did him good to speak to him +about the child. I believe that he would have died for her +unhesitatingly. And once a very curious thing happened—he wept—when +Rachel had small-pox.</p> + +<p>He scarcely shed a tear when his mother died. Her death made no great +void in his life, and apparently did not much move him. He lived alone +in the garret now—that was all. Burly old Hirsch Welt provided him with +food after that, but he did not trespass long on his kindness. One +summer morning he came to see me very early. "Good-by," he said; "I've +come to say good-by, because you were always kind to me. I'm going away +from Barnow to-day, that I may become a rich man."</p> + +<p>"But you'll starve by the way."</p> + +<p>"Oh no; I have the money that my mother left—three florins. I'm going +to Lemberg—good-by."</p> + +<p>So he went away, and I did not hear of him again for a long, long time.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Esterka Regina!...</p> + +<p>It was a summer day—a bright, beautiful afternoon in July. The sun was +shining on the heath, which was sweet with flowers and musical with the +hum of insects. Although a dull solitary place during the greater part +of the year, it was full of color, perfume, and life in summer. All was +quiet and still in the Ghetto; no one was moving about in the street; +the bustle of trade was hushed.</p> + +<p>The young people were walking by the river-side, dressed in their best +clothes. The young men looked pale and old of their age, and their +conversation was no more suited to their years than their appearance. +They discussed their Talmudic studies and their business; it seldom +happened that one of them whispered to his friend that he thought the +girl who had just passed was very pretty, and that he should esteem +himself lucky if his father were to fix upon her for his bride. It would +be hard to say what the girls talked about. Who can tell what thoughts +fill the head of a Jewish maiden, or why she titters as she passes down +the walk in her best gown on a fine Sabbath afternoon.</p> + +<p>Why? Well, perhaps at the sight of the young gentlemen who, in spite of +their wearing neither caftan nor curls, came to walk on the "Jewish +promenade" by the river, as if it were a matter of course for them to be +there. And yet it was an unusual sight to see them there, for they were +Christians, and grand people; and such do not generally haunt Jewish +resorts. But it was worth while to make a sacrifice for the chance of +seeing Esterka Regina—even a greater sacrifice than that of spending an +hour or two on the Jewish promenade. The three groups of <i>élégants</i> +waited patiently, watching the stars of the society—the Rebeccas, +Miriams, and Doras—until at length the sun appeared—the butcher's +beautiful daughter. There were three groups, I said. There were the +military cadets and lieutenants of the Lichtenstein Hussars, in their +light blue uniforms, led by fair, talkative, little Szilagy; there were +young Polish nobles and <i>literati</i>, with the long-haired poet, Herr +Thaddäus Wiliszewski, at their head; and lastly, there were a number of +boys at home for the holidays, among whom was a youth, who is no longer +a youth now, and who feels sad at heart whenever he thinks of that +glorious summer afternoon. For its glory has long since departed, and +that lovely girl sank into her early grave years ago, a broken-hearted +woman.</p> + +<p>But I can see her now as distinctly as I did on that day when she came +slowly down the lime-tree walk leaning on the arm of a girl-friend. +There was a stir among all at her approach: even the Jewish youths felt +the influence of her beauty, and many of them involuntarily straightened +their caftans and the long curl at either side of their faces. The three +groups that I mentioned before prepared for the encounter. The +blue-coated hussars took up the first line as beseemed brave warriors, +and fore-most among them was little Szilagy, for he was the most +audacious. She walked on slowly, and at last came close to him, he +having placed himself directly in her way. She did not cast down her +eyes like the other girls on passing these would-be lady-killers, but, +on the contrary, held up her head and looked about her as calmly and +indifferently as if the blue-coated hussars had been nothing but blue +mist. When, however, she was forced to stand still, because the impudent +little man had placed himself so that she could not pass him, her +expression changed. This was clearly shown by Szilagy's conduct: he +flushed as red as a peony, stepped back, and—incredible as it may +sound—saluted her awkwardly. When Herr von Szervay laughed at him +afterward for having been routed with such disorder, he said, "I have +plenty of courage, and have often proved it, but I couldn't stand the +way that she looked at me...."</p> + +<p>The second group, who had witnessed the defeat of the hussars, thought +discretion the better part of valor, and drew back betimes, the +long-haired poet gazing with great eyes of astonishment and delight at +the beautiful girl who was passing him. It was at that moment that Herr +Thaddäus's poor little brain, which hitherto had only been capable of +making verses for home use or for the Krakau "Ladies' Journal," was +suddenly inspired to invent the name that I have put at the head of this +story....</p> + +<p>And the third group! The school-boys were neither irresistible nor had +they any ambition to appear so; they had hardly courage to look at the +sparkling black eyes of the lesser lights, and when they saw the +loveliest of all the Jewish maidens approaching them, they huddled +together like a flock of frightened sheep. But one of their number—I +can not tell to this day how I found courage to do it—stepped forward +boldly and spoke to the girl—a good deal less boldly....</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Fräulein," I stammered, touching my hat, "perhaps you don't +remember me—little Aaron...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember you," she answered kindly; "you were always a good +friend to him. Have you heard of him lately?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't heard anything about him since he went away."</p> + +<p>"Then I know more than you do. Old Itzig Türkischgelb, the +'Marschallik'—you know the silly old man—was at Lemberg a short time +ago, and when there he chanced to meet Aaron, so he stopped and spoke to +him. He hardly knew him at first; for just fancy what our poor little +Aaron has become! He has become a gentleman, and dresses and speaks like +a German. He left the Latin school three years ago, and ever since then +he has lived at Vienna, where he is learning to be a doctor! Who ever +would have believed it? And," she added, hesitatingly, "the +'Marschallik' says that he has grown very proud, and will not speak to a +Jew. Only think, he calls himself Adolf now, and they say that he is +going to become a Christian. I can't believe it, though—can you?"</p> + +<p>I would not have believed in the possibility of anything that was +disagreeable to the girl for the world.</p> + +<p>"No," I answered with decision, "I don't believe it either. However, I +shall soon have an opportunity of knowing for certain. I'm going to +Vienna in a few weeks, to the university; and when I am there I'll look +up Aaron or Adolf, whichever he calls himself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," she said, quickly. "How glad he will be to see you again! +And," she added, her cheeks flushing, "remember me to him if he hasn't +forgotten me. But—you understand—only if he hasn't forgotten me...."</p> + +<p>"Oh," I exclaimed, boldly and enthusiastically, "who could forget you?"</p> + +<p>I was so terrified by my own boldness that I at once touched my hat and +withdrew, stammering some words of farewell. But I managed to regain +sufficient mastery over myself, before I joined my companions, to be +able to receive the storm of curiosity, envy, and admiration with which +they greeted me, with dignified calmness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>I did not set off in search of Aaron or Adolf Leiblinger as soon as I +arrived in Vienna, although I had fully determined to do so. Who will +not at once understand the reason? Imagine a lad of eighteen years of +age, shy, poor, ignorant of the world, and brought up in a small country +town, suddenly removed from all his accustomed surroundings and +transplanted to one of the great capitals of Europe. He would naturally +feel lost and dazed in the crowd hurrying past him, and among the +endless streets and houses stretched out before him. He would need time +to grow used to the change in his life, and to gain courage to face it. +It was so with me. And then again, how was I to find him among the four +thousand students who attended the university classes? I gave up the +idea, and trusted to chance.</p> + +<p>It was on a dismal afternoon in December that we met at last. There had +been a thick mist all day, which after a time became a fine persistent +and very wetting rain. It was so disagreeable that I was driven to take +refuge in a large crowded <i>café</i> in the Alster suburb, in hopes of the +shower passing off. Every seat was occupied, but at last I succeeded in +finding a vacant chair in the billiard-room. The rain lasted so long +that I grew tired of watching the drip from the leaves of the plants in +the garden, and turned my attention to the game that was going on.</p> + +<p>Three young men were playing at pool. The marker addressed them all as +"Herr Doctor," so I saw that they must be medical students. My attention +was particularly drawn to one of the three—a slender and rather +delicate-looking man of middle height, with marked but finely cut +features. He would have looked pale anyhow, but the intense blue-black +of his wavy hair and beard made him appear almost startlingly pallid. +His face could not be called handsome—his lips were too thin for that, +and his forehead too low. The moment I caught sight of his face, I saw +that he had a story; it did not occur to me at first that I had ever +seen him before. But suddenly, when the thin lips were firmly pressed +together, and the low forehead was contracted into a frown at some +jesting remark of one of his companions, it flashed upon me all at +once—"That is black Aaron!" And so it was. I can hardly tell whether +our meeting was a pleasurable one; at any rate, our pleasure was not +unmixed. When two young people have been separated for some time, they +are apt to be rather shy with each other when they first meet, for they +hardly know how much change may have taken place in each other's ways +and ideas. This is doubly the case after a long separation, such as +Aaron's and mine. We strove hard to bring back the old footing that had +existed between us, but in vain. Our conversation was disjointed, and +threatened to come to a speedy conclusion, when I suddenly remembered +the message with which I had been intrusted.</p> + +<p>"Somebody at Barnow," I said, "is very much interested in your career. +Can you guess who it is?"</p> + +<p>"No." And so saying he blew a cloud of tobacco-smoke nonchalantly in the +air. "My dear boy, you have no idea how much trouble I have given myself +to forget the people at Barnow, entirely—absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Even your guardian angel, little Rachel?"</p> + +<p>"What, was it Rachel?" he exclaimed, eagerly. And then resuming his +indifferent manner: "What has become of the little girl? She must be +pretty big now, though—sixteen years old or thereabout."</p> + +<p>"And very beautiful too," I replied.</p> + +<p>I then proceeded to give him such an enthusiastic description of her +beauty and intelligence, that he could not help smiling. But when I had +finished, he said, gravely—"I am very sorry to hear it—very!"</p> + +<p>"Why? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I am very grateful to the little guardian angel of my boyhood, and +should like her to be happy. But there's very small hope of that, if she +is really as beautiful and intelligent as you say. She will either be +tempted beyond her power of resistance, and fall a prey to some Polish +or Hungarian swell in spite of all her wisdom...."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" I cried, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Or else she will remain the good obedient child of a father who will +one day give her to wife, whether she will or not, to some rude +illiterate member of the Chassidim. And as she possesses more +intelligence than most women, she will sooner or later feel the whole +misery and humiliation of her lot very keenly, and will at length die a +poor broken-hearted creature in some corner of a Podolian Ghetto."</p> + +<p>"You take too black a view of the subject."</p> + +<p>"I see things as they are. You need not tell me what the Chassidim are. +Don't let us discuss the matter further. Good-by for the present."</p> + +<p>So we parted, and although we spoke of meeting again, our words were +cool.</p> + +<p>We did not give ourselves any trouble to bring about another meeting. +But accident at length brought us together again, and for a longer time.</p> + +<p>Early in spring, I moved into new lodgings, and the first time that I +looked out at my window, I saw the face of my old school-fellow at +Barnow, in an opposite window, side by side with that of the skeleton he +was studying. He lived in the same house and in the same quadrangle as I +did. We therefore renewed our acquaintance in some measure, and +gradually even became friends—that is to say, as far as it was possible +for students of such different standing (he was in his fourth year, I +only in my first), and for characters so dissimilar as ours, to be +friends.</p> + +<p>As regards his character, one saw in him a clear proof of the truth of +the old saying, that "the impressions of childhood are the most deeply +rooted of all." Adolf Lieblinger, student of medicine, was the same in +character as black Aaron. The metamorphosis of the reserved ugly boy, +into the able, worldly, interesting young man, had left the basis of his +character untouched: he still possessed the same defiant spirit and the +same consciousness of his own powers, and the same hatred as of old was +hidden away at the bottom of his heart. Besides that, he was unchanged +in his gratitude for every kindness, however small, and in his thirst +after knowledge. When he first left Barnow, he had had a hard struggle +for existence, and yet he had passed his examination at the gymnasium in +an incredibly short space of time. He made his way both there, and +afterward at the University of Vienna. And so he still regarded the old +proverb, "Where there's a will there's a way," as essentially true.</p> + +<p>He was only changed in one respect; his ideas of God and religion were +fundamentally altered. In the old days, partly because he was so proud, +he had clung all the more tenaciously to the religious teaching of his +childhood that he had been persecuted for holding it, and his God had +been more or less the God of his own vengeance; for he had never tired +of imploring Him to send down a flash of lightning to destroy the +Christian boys who bullied him, and our stupid, rough-mannered teachers. +But now he was indifferent to God, and hated the Jewish faith with a +bitter hatred. He always spoke of Jews and Judaism with passionate +virulence. Herr Thaddäus Wiliszewski, who had written some verses for +his friends, and not for the "Ladies' Journal" this time, which he +called a "Poem against the Jews," was mild as a dove in comparison. But +still he remained in appearance a member of the old faith. "My coat is +uncomfortable," he used to say, "and doesn't fit me well, but I can't +find any other on the face of the earth that would fit me better; and, +as you know, one can't go about coatless—people would stare so!"</p> + +<p>I grew very fond of Adolf—as fond as I used to be of Aaron when I was a +boy; so when the vacation approached, I invited him to accompany me to +my eastern home, and was heartily glad when he accepted my invitation.</p> + +<p>During this journey our conversation chanced to turn on Rachel as we +speeded through the night in the railway toward Barnow. Her name had +never been mentioned by either of us since the day on which we had first +met in Vienna.</p> + +<p>"Take care of yourself," I said jestingly; "old love never rusts out."</p> + +<p>He laughed. "I," he said, "what have <i>I</i> to do with love? You know that +love is soft and tender, and I—am a hard man." He laughed again, and +then added gravely and almost tenderly: "Look here—I will avoid seeing +Rachel. The memory of her is the only pleasurable one of my boyhood, and +shall I do well to destroy it by going to see her? for doubtless she is +now a shy and dirty girl who would address me in Jewish-German."</p> + +<p>He opened the carriage-window and stared out into the dark night for +many minutes.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>We arrived at Barnow at the end of July. "Black Aaron's" coming awakened +great excitement, and it was both ludicrous and sad to see the way in +which the orthodox Jews received him. He, "black Aaron," Aaron +Leiblinger, son of Chane Leiblinger, who used to live in the cottage by +the river, actually dared to wear "Christian" clothes, to eat +"Christian" food, to smoke on the Sabbath; and had even gone so far as +to study! Deadly sins all of these in the eyes of the orthodox,—sins +that should meet with condign punishment! No one spoke to him, and any +one he addressed turned away from him in scorn. The little boys ran +after him in the street, shouting, <i>Meschumed!</i> (apostate). The young +man laughed at the children, and repaid the scorn of their elders in the +same coin. We did not often put ourselves in the way of these people, +however, but used to make long expeditions into the country, and visited +the Christian officials of the town. We were heartily welcomed by the +latter. Herr Thaddäus Wiliszewski was kind enough to read his poems to +us, and the sallow daughters of the Steueramts-Vorsteher<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> allowed us +to flirt with them a little. Adolf was outwardly full of laughter and +fun, and I alone guessed how bitterly he felt the reception he had met +with from his own people. He kept true to his determination not to see +Rachel.</p> + +<p>One day—it was on a fearfully hot Sunday afternoon in August, the +second we had spent in the little town—the tempter came to him at last, +or rather, came to me in the first instance. I was alone at home that +afternoon, when the door opened, and a little manikin, with a very red +nose and very thin legs, trotted into the room. It was Herr Isaak +Türkischgelb, the "Marschallik" of Barnow, which, being interpreted, +means the merrymaker, or marshal of weddings at Barnow. A dignitary of +this kind, besides a thousand other duties, is intrusted with that of +inviting the guests to a marriage. It was in this capacity that he +honored me with a visit. He had been sent by Frau Sprinze Klein to +invite Adolf and me to the wedding-party, to be given on the following +Tuesday in honor of the marriage of her daughter, Jutta Klein, to Herr +Isidor Spitz (<i>vulgo</i>, "Red Itzigel").</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said. "But shall we see any pretty girls there? Is +Esterka Regina to be one of the guests?"</p> + +<p>"Who?" asked the little man in amazement, putting his hand up to his ear +and bending forward the better to hear my answer.</p> + +<p>"Well, I mean Rachel Welt, the fat butcher's daughter."</p> + +<p>"Do you ask if she is to be there?" cried the Marschallik, pathetically. +"Is it reasonable to suppose that any one would invite all the ugly +girls in Barnow and leave out the most beautiful? Take my word for it, +young sir, Sprinze Klein and I know how to act on such occasions; and it +is an acknowledged thing that when you invite young men to a party, you +ought to have some pretty girls to meet them. Besides that, we know that +we needn't deck out a room with flowers when Rachel is there, for she is +the loveliest flower I ever saw; and that's as true as that God blesses +my undertakings!</p> + +<p>"The loveliest flower," he repeated; "and so you will come, won't +you?—you and your friend Aaronleben—pardon me for calling him that; +for how can I call him Adolf, when I often had him in my arms when he +was a little child, and his mother, Chane, was my own sister's daughter? +You'll come now, and prevent the people in Barnow saying of the old +Marschallik—'He's only fit to invite common Jews, the uneducated folk +of the town; he's no good at all where young gentlemen are concerned!'"</p> + +<p>I could not help laughing. "All right," I said, "make your mind easy as +regards me. But whether Adolf will go or not is a different question; I +don't think he will. However, you'd better come back to-morrow and hear +what he says."</p> + +<p>The little man once more raised his hands in the air, bowing low at the +same time; after which, he trotted out of the room with a broad smile +upon his face.</p> + +<p>I was convinced that I should have to go alone. And, indeed, when I told +Adolf of the invitation, he answered testily: "Say no more. I'll follow +you to hell if you like, but not to these people!"</p> + +<p>"What a pity!" I said. "It would have been such a good opportunity for +you to have made an interesting study of the character of—our hostess, +Frau Sprinze Klein. You don't know her. She was born at Brzezan, and is +now a very rich widow. She keeps a haberdasher's shop."</p> + +<p>"Very interesting," he replied, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"More so than you imagine. A very grave psychological process is going +on in that woman. She is struggling with all her might to free herself +from the oppressive bonds of orthodoxy, and to gain a more enlarged view +of life; but it must be confessed that her efforts to attain this end +are very comical, to say the least of it. Frau Klein lives like every +other Jewess. She does not venture to wear her own hair, and can not +bring herself to disobey the Levitical laws regarding food in the +smallest particular. But as she once spent six months in Lemberg when +she was a girl, she has a sort of Platonic love for 'culture' and +'enlightenment.' She begins nearly every sentence with, 'When I was in +Lemberg.' She shows her Platonic love of enlightenment in strange ways. +For instance, she delights in speaking High-German, and whenever she +manages to pick up a foreign word, she continually drags it into her +conversation by hook or by crook for the next week. You may easily +imagine how the unfortunate foreign word suffers at her hands; or +rather, I should say, you can't imagine it, for it far exceeds the +bounds of the wildest imagination. Here is another example: Frau Sprinze +can't read a word of German, and yet she bought three second-hand books +at a sale—these are, Schiller's 'Robbers,' a story by Caroline Pichler, +and a volume of 'Casanova.' She is in the habit of keeping one of these +books lying open before her on the counter, and whenever she thinks that +any one is looking at her, she stares at the mysterious characters +printed on the page as attentively as though she understood what they +meant. If any pious Jew tells her that reading a German book is a deadly +sin, she invariably answers: 'When I was in Lemberg, I noticed that the +daughters of the chief rabbi were in the habit of reading German books.' +At the same she secretly comforts herself by the thought: 'If reading +these books is really a sin, I am innocent of committing it....' As a +last example of her large-mindedness, we have the invitation to her +daughter's marriage-feast. You must know that she has arranged that the +dancing at her party shall not be conducted after the 'Jewish +fashion'—the men with men and the women with women—but after that of +the Christians, which allows men and women to dance with each other. We +probably owe the heartiness of our invitation to the fact that very few +of the young men who are to be there know how to dance properly."</p> + +<p>"How flattering!"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! What does that matter? It'll be capital fun, I expect! Even if +they only have slow country-dances, I think that the chance of having +such a pretty girl as Esterka Regina as a partner would make up for +anything. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," answered Adolf, shortly.</p> + +<p>But he looked thoughtful when he heard her name, and next day when the +Marschallik came to invite him to Frau Klein's party, he at once +consented to go, very much to my surprise and to that of the old man.</p> + +<p>... On the following Tuesday evening he went to the rich widow's house, +which we found grandly decorated for the evening's entertainment. The +marriage ceremony had been performed, so that every one was waiting for +the dancing to begin. Our hostess met us at the ball-room door and +received us more than graciously. She wore a dress of heavy yellow silk, +and above that a pale-green velvet mantle; and the well-assorted +jeweler's shop (for that is the only way to describe it) that she had +hung about her, rattled with every movement she made.</p> + +<p>"You will find everything arranged as it is done at Lemberg," she said +to us, with a beaming smile; "for when I was at Lemberg, I learned the +proper way to do <i>les horreurs</i> as hostess!"</p> + +<p>We went into the dancing-room. The men did not look enchanted to see us, +but the girls seemed to witness our arrival with more satisfaction. We +at once set to work to fulfill the duty for which we had come, and +danced diligently.</p> + +<p>Soon afterward, an old man came into the room accompanied by a young +girl. It was Hirsch Welt and his daughter. It was the first time that we +had seen her since our return, and, as though with one breath, we +ejaculated, "How very beautiful she is!" But I will not even now attempt +to describe her.</p> + +<p>"Does seeing the girl really destroy the pleasurable memories of your +boyhood?" I asked Adolf, with a smile.</p> + +<p>But he did not answer. For one moment he turned very pale. Immediately +recovering himself, he went up to her and asked her to dance with him.</p> + +<p>She also turned pale, looked at him with a startled expression, and +answered in a low voice—"No!"</p> + +<p>His cheek flushed. "You—you don't dance?"</p> + +<p>"I do dance," she replied slowly, and still with the same look in her +face, "but not with you."</p> + +<p>He forced himself to smile, but with a great effort. "And what have I +done to deserve such a punishment?"</p> + +<p>"You hate us all, and make game of us—of us, our ways, and our +language. And what good does it do you, after all, to act thus? It does +not make you the less a Jew."</p> + +<p>His face darkened. "Oh, if you only knew," he began hastily, but stopped +himself there. After a short pause, he continued, with a smile: "You are +mistaken. The people of Barnow have done me no wrong, nor I them. How +could it be otherwise? I was born and brought up here among them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know," she said, quickly; "you used to live in the garret-room in +our house, you and your old mother; peace be with her!..."</p> + +<p>His face lighted up with pleasure. "You remember those old days? I +should hardly have expected it—it's eleven years ago!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember it all distinctly. We used to be great friends, you and +I. And had you forgotten me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" he said, emphatically.</p> + +<p>Then they began to talk in a low voice, and I could hear no more of +their conversation. He was probably reminding Rachel of a number of +little incidents of their childhood, for a happy smile played upon her +lips every now and then.</p> + +<p>Neither of them remembered what a strange thing it must have seemed to +every one present that they should have so much to say to each other in +private. People began to whisper, and I heard the Platonic lover of +progress say to one of her gossips, 'I saw many curious things when I +was in Lemberg; but I never knew before that any girl who was engaged to +be married would venture to talk so long to a stranger—I really never +did!'</p> + +<p>But at this moment they separated.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad that you haven't forgotten old times," said the girl +aloud; "it's a sign that you aren't wicked, though many people say that +you are.... But now—I must say good-by."</p> + +<p>And in another moment she was gone. He gazed after her retreating figure +as though in a dream.</p> + +<p>I went up to him.</p> + +<p>"You've given the unfortunate bridegroom rather a bad half hour," I +said, laughingly.</p> + +<p>"What!" he asked, quickly, "is she engaged?"</p> + +<p>"I heard some one say so just now."</p> + +<p>"To whom?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Didn't she tell you about it?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, and then begged me to go home—he had had enough of +the party.</p> + +<p>That was their first meeting.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two months later. The mild autumn sunshine was gilding the landscape, +and the heath was brightly tinted with deep russet hues. Adolf and I +were once more sitting opposite each other in the railway-carriage, but +this time we were going northward, and were leaving Barnow behind us.</p> + +<p>Adolf's manner had been rather strange of late. He had sometimes been +unreasonably full of high spirits, and again absolutely silent, not a +word to be got out of him on any subject; sometimes confident, and again +sentimental. Any one could see that the poor fellow was over head and +ears in love, and therefore in a very unsettled frame of mind. I did not +know how matters stood between him and the girl he loved, and did not +care to ask; but I rejoiced in silence that the spring-time of joy had +at last come to the sad solitary heart of my old friend.</p> + +<p>He was very gentle during the whole of that day, and did not give +utterance to a single sarcastic speech. His face looked softer and +brighter than I could have imagined it possible for those sharply-cut +features to look.</p> + +<p>At last he addressed me suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I've got something to tell you that you'll be glad to hear."</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>But he grew silent again. After a long pause he burst out all at once: +"I love her; she loves me. I can not bear to keep it to myself any +longer, so I will tell you how it all happened...."</p> + +<p>I shook him warmly by the hand, and then he went on:</p> + +<p>"You remember that marriage. I am not a poet, nor do I find it easy to +put my impressions into words, therefore I simply can not tell you what +effect seeing that girl had upon me, for it was unspeakable, +indescribable. Still, although her dear face was continually before me +in imagination, I could not make up my mind to visit her in her father's +house, for that house was haunted by the ghosts of my miserable +childhood—ghosts I dared not waken without pressing necessity. Besides +that, Hirsch Welt is one of the most narrow-minded of the pious sect in +the community, and I felt no desire to receive any more proofs of the +affection of that lot than I have already had.</p> + +<p>"So I left our next meeting to be brought about by chance; and, as +chance would have it, I met Rachel again before another week had passed. +It was in a curious place—the very last that I should have thought of.</p> + +<p>"You know the old ruined castle on the left bank of the Lered; you know +it better than I do. I never had any liking for the place, for a love of +romantic scenery has no part in my composition; but somehow or other I +was that day impelled to climb the hillock on which the ruins lie, after +having wandered aimlessly about the heath for hours. I felt—laugh at me +if you like—that I must go to the top of some eminence and get a good +view of the country round.</p> + +<p>"Well, as I said before, I climbed the little hill, and there I found +Rachel sitting on a stone in the ruined court, right under the great red +wooden cross, the presence of which makes the Jews so averse to visiting +the place. She was sewing diligently, and a book was lying on the grass +at her side.</p> + +<p>"On hearing the sound of my footsteps, she looked up, and returned my +greeting quietly.</p> + +<p>"'Here you are at last,' she said.</p> + +<p>"I stared at her in astonishment. 'Did you know that I was coming? I +only came up here by chance.'</p> + +<p>"'No one told me that you were coming,' she answered, blushing deeply as +she spoke, 'but I was quite sure that you would come. Yes; I brought +that book to show you.' She put it in my hand. 'Do you remember it?'</p> + +<p>"I remembered it well. A strange feeling came over me as I gazed at the +dog's-eared discolored pages. It was a prayer-book, written in +Jewish-German for the use of women, and was one of the few things that I +had inherited from my mother. In spite of all my hardness, I was +profoundly moved—I scarcely knew why.</p> + +<p>"My eyes were dim, and I returned the book in silence.</p> + +<p>"'You gave it to me,' she said, 'when you went away out into the wide +world to seek your fortune on that beautiful summer morning long ago. We +cried a great deal when you left us, fair-haired Chaim and I. It is to +him that I am engaged, you know....'</p> + +<p>"'To him!' I repeated, as calmly as I could. 'You said nothing about +your engagement the other evening.'</p> + +<p>"'Because we were talking of other things,' she answered; and then +added, 'Nor did you tell me about the girl that you're engaged to, and +yet they say that she is very beautiful and grand.'</p> + +<p>"I could not help laughing. 'No, Fräulein<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> Rachel,' I said, 'I'm not +engaged.'</p> + +<p>"She looked at me questioningly. 'Aren't you? It's another lie, then. +Our people say that you're engaged to a very rich and beautiful +Christian girl; but,' she continued, speaking quickly and eagerly, 'it's +your own fault that they tell so many false and wicked tales about you. +You are proud and reserved to all our people, and turn us into ridicule +whenever you can. That was the reason why I was so angry with you when I +first saw you at the marriage. I soon saw that you weren't wicked, and +told you so; but you're proud—even to me.'</p> + +<p>"I would have spoken, but she interrupted me.</p> + +<p>"'You are; you needn't say no, for it's quite true. Why do you address +me so stiffly, and not as you used to do?'</p> + +<p>"'Because little Rachel is now a grown-up young lady—'</p> + +<p>"'There you are—sarcastic again,' she interrupted, passionately. 'I'm +not a young lady—I am only a Jewish girl; so let me beg of you to call +me simply by my name, as an old friend should do.'</p> + +<p>"'Willingly,' I replied; 'but you must do the same by me.'</p> + +<p>"'No,' she said, blushing, but with great decision; 'that wouldn't do at +all. You are a learned man, and will soon be a doctor, while I—I am +only Rachel Welt. You must not ask that of me.'</p> + +<p>"We talked," continued Adolf, "for a long time and about many +things—not only on that morning, but on many mornings for a number of +weeks. Rachel took her work to the ruined castle every day. 'It's so +airless down below,' she said; 'and here one can see the sunshine, and +the birds that are singing all around. I like plenty of light.' You know +how poverty, oppression, and sorrow have stifled almost all sense of the +picturesque in the Podolian Jews, but that simple girlish spirit is full +of it.</p> + +<p>"I was quite as punctual as Rachel in arriving at our meeting-place. +Even if I wished, I couldn't tell you all the things we talked +about—the smallest matters were weighty enough to us to become the +theme of endless conversation. Neither of us knew what it was that drew +us to meet so often. It was a happy time we spent together, ignorant of +the cause of our joy; perhaps, when I look back at it, it seems almost +the brightest part of those bright days...."</p> + +<p>Adolf paused abruptly, and again that look of softened happiness that I +had before remarked passed over his face.</p> + +<p>"You are right," I said; "the happiest time of first love is when +neither of the lovers has as yet awakened to the cause that makes the +most wonderful event seem simple, and the simplest a wonder. It is +generally to some external influence that the lovers owe the discovery +of how deep this feeling has grown."</p> + +<p>Adolf laughed. "You speak like a book," he answered. "But—you're right +all the same. The 'external influence,' as you call it, was not wanting +in our case."</p> + +<p>Then he continued:</p> + +<p>"One morning I went to the ruins as usual, but she did not come. Hour +after hour I paced the courtyard impatiently, every now and then going +to look down the pathway leading to the town. All in vain. Rachel did +not come. My disappointment opened my eyes to the fact that she had +grown very dear to me.</p> + +<p>"She did not appear on the next day or the next. A week passed, and she +did not come. I was in despair.</p> + +<p>"At last I found her seated in the old place one morning when I went to +the castle. I hastened to her and took her hand in mine. 'Thank God! +you've come back,' I cried, joyfully. 'Rachel, Rachel, you don't know +how anxious I have been about you.'</p> + +<p>"She smiled sadly; her face was pale, and her eyelids reddened with +weeping. 'I could not come,' she said softly, 'I was ill.'</p> + +<p>"'Ill!' I exclaimed. 'And I not with you! I had then good reason to be +anxious about you.'</p> + +<p>"'It wasn't much,' she returned. 'And you came here often?'</p> + +<p>"'Every day—and waited and waited!'</p> + +<p>"'Thank you,' she said in a low voice, and held out her hand once more +to me.</p> + +<p>"As we stood there silent, looking at each other and finding no word to +say, we all at once became clearly conscious of our love for each other. +We both trembled.</p> + +<p>"'I must go,' she said at length, withdrawing her hand from mine. 'My +mother will be anxious—good-by.'</p> + +<p>"'Till to-morrow,' I answered. 'You will come?'</p> + +<p>"'I will come,' she said in a low voice....</p> + +<p>"I had not long to wait for her on the following day: she was very +punctual.</p> + +<p>"I went to meet her shyly, and rather ill at ease,—not joyously, as on +the previous day.</p> + +<p>"She was still very pale, and showed her weakness by the tremulousness +of her walk.</p> + +<p>"'You are worse than you'd have me believe,' I said.</p> + +<p>"'No,' she replied, 'I am not ill, and'—she hesitated, and then resumed +in a firmer voice—'I haven't been ill. I lied to you yesterday.'</p> + +<p>"I stared at her in amazement.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' she repeated, 'I lied, because I had not courage to tell the +truth. I am pale, and my eyes are red, because I wept so much, and was +so miserable during the last week. I've a great deal to say to you, and +entreat of you to listen to me quietly.'</p> + +<p>"We seated ourselves on the great stone at the foot of the red cross.</p> + +<p>"'I don't know,' she began in a clear firm voice, 'who told my parents +that I was in the habit of meeting you here every day, and it doesn't +much matter who it was. I should have been certain to have told them +myself some time, for I saw no harm in what I had done. But one day +lately, when I went home, my father received me with vehement +reproaches, and with words ... with words.... I will not repeat them, +for they were very cruel and unjust. He said that I had forgotten my +honor and my duty; he reminded me of the man to whom I am betrothed, and +besought me to beware of you, for you were an unbeliever, and would +tempt me to evil. His anger did not frighten me, but that did; for +something all at once seemed to tell me why I had gone so regularly to +the ruins, and why your words and looks made me so happy. Now—I know +the truth. And when my father entreated me not to shame him, and to +swear a holy oath that I would neither see nor speak to you again, I +could not do it. If God and all the angels in heaven had commanded me to +take that oath, I couldn't have done it—it would have seemed +desecration. I bore my father's anger and my mother's tears, because I +knew that I ... that I loved you....'</p> + +<p>"I would have spoken, but she raised her hand to stay me, and continued:</p> + +<p>"'When I first knew the truth I was filled with horror—I could not +understand myself; and yet in spite of all that I felt happy. I saw the +grief and despair that my conduct brought upon my parents, but, even to +please them, I could not remain engaged to Chaim. The world still +believes that I am, but I really belong to you. That is the reason why I +could not help coming to see you yesterday in secret. Then I saw both in +your words and looks that you loved me as really as I loved you. And now +I ask you what is to be done? what is to be the end of all this?'</p> + +<p>"I did not hear the sadness of every tone of her voice, because I would +not hear it—my heart was so full of joy unspeakable.</p> + +<p>"'Child,' I cried, 'you love me; then all is well!'</p> + +<p>"But she only looked at me gravely and sadly, and after a short pause +went on:</p> + +<p>"'No—all is lost!... You feel happy, and so do I; but while you're +contented with that, I look to the future. And there is no comfort, no +light to be found there for me. I can not be your wife—the life I have +hitherto led has unfitted me for that. I have had no education, no +teaching. God knows that I am nothing, know nothing, and can do nothing. +Woe is me, I can not even speak 'German.' What should you, who are going +to be a doctor, do with a wife who is utterly ignorant of the life you +lead and its ways? Oh, I fear your world with a deadly fear. Were I to +marry you and then bring you to shame before others, because of my +ignorance and mistakes, you would say in your heart that your love for +me had been your bane....'</p> + +<p>"'Rachel,' I cried, 'don't say that; you only make both yourself and me +miserable by giving way to such idle fears.'</p> + +<p>"'I am only saying what is true,' she answered, with trembling lips. +'And then—can I buy my own happiness at the expense of my parents' +sorrow?—as our people would regard it—shame? Were I to do so they +would die of grief. Often in my misery I felt that I must entreat you to +go away—at once. To forget me—would not bring happiness, but safety.'</p> + +<p>"'And do you really think that I could forget you?' I asked, gravely. +'Could you forget me?'</p> + +<p>"'No,' she said, 'I could not. But tell me—can you see a way out of all +this misery?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' I answered, with determination, for the spirit of defiance was +roused within me, and I felt more than ever convinced of the truth of +the proverb, 'Where there's a will there's a way.' 'I will go and speak +to your father, and prove to him how foolish the prejudice he feels +toward me really is. I will entreat him not to make his only child +unhappy, and ask him to give you to me. If he will not consent, I will +win you by my own labor; but when I have done that, you must leave your +parents for your husband. We should have to wait and work for two years. +But you will not tire any more than I shall. And then you will be my +dear wife, and will be able to look back at your cares and anxieties of +to-day with a smile. I swear that you shall be my wife—or else, I shall +never marry.'</p> + +<p>"'I will be true to you,' she said, in a low voice, but so earnestly +that it almost seemed like a sacred oath.</p> + +<p>"So we parted...."</p> + +<p>Adolf was silent for a time. We stared out into the dusk without +speaking, and gazed at the shadowy outlines of the vast plain of Western +Galicia.</p> + +<p>It was not until the silence had lasted a long time that I asked, "Did +you go to Hirsch Welt?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And were you successful?"</p> + +<p>"He turned me out of the house," returned Adolf calmly; "but what of +that? Rachel shall be my wife. 'Where there's a will, there's a +way!...'"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Fifteen months passed away after our conversation in the +railway-carriage without any event worthy of record taking place. When +we returned to Vienna we took up our abode in different parts of the +town, and in consequence met but seldom. I only knew that Adolf was +working very hard, and that he had good accounts of Rachel.</p> + +<p>Early one morning in December, before the sun was well up, I heard a +violent knocking at my door, and ere I could call out "Come in," the +door opened, and my friend entered hurriedly, his face deadly pale and +anxious-looking.</p> + +<p>"What! it's you, Adolf!" I exclaimed. "But what's the matter?... Is +anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>He passed his hand across his forehead, and pushed back his hair to +which a few snow-flakes were sticking. "I don't know what has happened," +he said, "that is the reason I am so uneasy.... Don't question me, but +get up and come with me...."</p> + +<p>I obeyed, and dressed as quickly as I could, for something in his voice +and manner made me feel very anxious. He went to the window, and +throwing himself into my arm-chair with a weary sigh, stared out into +the cold, gray, winter morning. His face was deadly pale, and his eyes +shone with a feverish brightness.</p> + +<p>"Adolf," I exclaimed, "you are ill."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not ill," he answered impatiently—"I mustn't be ill. But come, +come—"</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>I followed him out into the cold, stormy December morning with a feeling +of anxiety that increased every moment.</p> + +<p>"Where is the nearest telegraph-office?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"A good way off; what are we to do there?"</p> + +<p>"Come on—and don't ask so many questions."</p> + +<p>Seeing how excited he was, I accompanied him in silence. When we at +length reached the door of the telegraph-office, he said:</p> + +<p>"And now, please, will you do something for me? Will you telegraph to +your mother and ask her if it is true that—Rachel Welt is to be married +next week—?"</p> + +<p>"What? Did you hear that she was?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind just now—I'll tell you all afterward; but now, pray, go at +once and send off the telegram. Beg for an immediate answer—immediate, +you understand. Have mercy on me, and go!"</p> + +<p>His words, and the repressed pain in his voice, had all the more effect +on me from their contrast with the habitual coldness and reserve of his +manner. I went into the office and sent off the telegram. Somehow or +other it never occurred to me until after I had dispatched the message, +that my people would think it strange that I should be so much +interested in the fate of Rachel Welt, and I almost smiled at the +thought. But all desire to smile forsook me when I rejoined Adolf. His +face was now flushed, his eyes were shining, and every now and then he +shivered as though with ague....</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> ill," I once more exclaimed. "Come...." And, seizing him by +the arm, I took him to the nearest <i>café</i>—the snow, meanwhile, had +begun to fall thick and fast.</p> + +<p>"It's nothing," he answered. "It's only a slight feverish attack—I must +have had a chill—I have been wandering all night long in the streets. I +know what you're going to say—it was foolish of me, I am quite aware of +that, my medical studies have taught me how foolish it was; but I +couldn't help it—I couldn't keep still.... When do you expect an +answer to your telegram?" he added, suddenly and quickly.</p> + +<p>"Late in the afternoon—perhaps not till nightfall."</p> + +<p>"Not till then?"</p> + +<p>"Remember that Barnow is a hundred and fifty miles<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> from here, that +there is a dreadful snow-storm, and that—what is perhaps more to the +purpose—Herr Michalski, the telegraph officer at home, is generally +drunk, and is in the habit of keeping back telegrams till it suits him +to deliver them. But you may trust me to bring you the answer as soon as +it arrives."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said. "You can not tell what I have suffered since I was +startled by the sudden intelligence."</p> + +<p>"Who told you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I got to know by a strange accident," he replied. "I happened to go +into one of the surgical wards of the infirmary yesterday evening; +suddenly I heard some one call me by my name. I went to the bed from +which the voice had come, and there I found a Jewish lad lying—it was +Salomon Pinkus, brother of Chaim Pinkus, the cattle-dealer at Barnow. +Salomon told me sadly that he had brought some cattle belonging to his +brother to Vienna, had sold them well, and was preparing to return home, +when he slipped on some ice in the street and broke his arm. 'I didn't +want to go to Vienna,' he whined—'I was afraid; but I had to do it, as +my brother could not leave home just then—he is to be married to +Rachel, daughter of the butcher at Barnow, next week.'—'To whom did you +say?' I cried, catching his sound arm in such a firm grip that he +shrieked out that I wanted to break it too. Well, he afterward told me +that his brother's bride was Rachel Welt—he was sure that I must know +her—I think he chuckled when he said it—'she had refused to marry +Chaim for a long time, but had suddenly come to her senses again, and +was now quite willing to take him....'</p> + +<p>"He told me a good deal more, and though I answered him, I can't +remember what I said. I only know that I ran away from him in the end, +and, rushing out-of-doors, paced the streets all night like a madman, +unheeding the storm and the cold. What I felt I can never describe, nor +would you understand if I were to attempt to do so...."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" I answered, compassionately.</p> + +<p>"No," he cried, passionately, "you couldn't understand, nor would any +one. It was not a mere boyish affair, you see—such a thing would have +been impossible to me. It was the first great passion of my life, and it +will be the last. I have poured out all the love my nature is capable of +feeling at that girl's feet, and if she has deceived me, I shall go mad +or die. Believe me, I am not exaggerating—I can read my own case as +clearly as if it were physical illness from which I am suffering: as a +proof of this, let me tell you that love never made me blind; I always +saw the difficulties that would beset Rachel's path and mine. I know +that no one could well imagine anything more opposite than our habits of +mind and opinions on every subject. She and I have both to thank +orthodox Judaism for this. But I also know that the barriers between us +are not insuperable. If I have been man enough to make my own life and +open a career for myself, I shall also be man enough to raise my wife to +my own level. There is only one thing that could crush me—only one: if +Rachel were untrue!..."</p> + +<p>"And do you think that possible?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I am unwilling to believe it; no one yields at once to a belief that +would make his life worthless in his eyes for evermore—and so I cling +to a last hope. That was why I asked you to telegraph. Although it is +very improbable that Salomon should have lied to me, yet it is possible +that he may have done so;... still, I confess that I have very little +hope, for she used to write to me every week regularly, and I haven't +heard from her for the last fortnight...."</p> + +<p>"But," I asked, "even supposing that the marriage is really fixed for +next week, may you not suspect the girl unjustly? What if she were not +faithless after all, but forced into this marriage by her relations, God +knows how?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible," said Adolf, firmly. "If I could have believed in the +possibility of such a thing for a single moment, I should have been on +my way to Barnow instead of sitting here. I know the girl far too well +to entertain such an idea. Rachel is simple-hearted, clear-minded, and +immovable. She could not be forced to do anything against her will. If +the worst came to the worst, she would rather have run away from her +parents and come to me, than have given way, even though she'd had to +beg her bread from Barnow to Vienna. I know her...."</p> + +<p>Adolf and I talked long together on that gloomy winter morning. At last +I persuaded him to go to the hospital and do his usual work, promising +at the same time to bring him the telegram, whatever it might contain, +the very moment that it arrived.</p> + +<p>It did not come until early on the following morning, so our worthy +fellow-townsman, Herr Michalski, must have been celebrating some +festival on the preceding evening. It ran as follows: "Yes; Rachel is +going to marry Pinkus the cattle-dealer next Tuesday. But what does it +matter to you?"</p> + +<p>Alas! it mattered much more to me at that moment than my dear mother +imagined. I immediately sent for a drosky, and drove to Mariengasse, +where Adolf had taken a little room. My heart beat when I pulled the +bell.</p> + +<p>His old housekeeper came out to meet me.</p> + +<p>"Thank God that you've come!" she exclaimed joyfully as soon as she saw +me. "I've been so dreadfully anxious all night. Just think, another +letter came from Poland yesterday for the Herr Doctor; I knew where it +came from by the stamp; well, I put it carefully in his flat candlestick +that he might find it the very moment he came home. If I had only +guessed what was in that letter—I'm an honest woman, sir, and have +never stolen anything in my life, but I should have destroyed it, God +forgive me! and thought it a good deed. For, just listen, sir. He came +home early yesterday evening and asked me breathlessly if you had been +here. 'No,' said I—'but there's a letter for you from Poland.' 'Where?' +said he, running into his room and snatching up his letter. There must +have been something dreadful in that letter, sir, for the doctor turned +as pale as death, and shivered all over. Then, suddenly, he threw the +letter away and began to laugh aloud—it made my blood run cold to hear +him, it was such a mad laugh. Then he looked about him like this"—the +old woman tried to put on an insane stare—"and shouted to me to go +away—and—God forgive me!—I was so frightened that I ran away as +quickly as I could. All was silent for a time, but soon I heard the +doctor walking up and down, up and down, very quickly, and then he threw +himself on the sofa and moaned quite low. I can't describe it, it made +me shiver with terror; for, you see, a dreadful thing happened in this +very house about two years ago. My neighbor's lodger, a young +apothecary, poisoned himself because his sweetheart was false to him. I +heard him moan just like the doctor last night; and I couldn't help +thinking that it was the same story over again. So at last I summoned +courage and went into the room. He started up, and stared at me as if he +didn't know who I was. 'It's only me,' I said; 'are you ill?'—'No,' +said he, 'I only want to be alone,' so I went away again, but the whole +night long...."</p> + +<p>I left the old woman talking, and hastened to my friend's room.</p> + +<p>Adolf was sitting motionless in his arm-chair, his face buried in his +hands—it almost seemed as if he must be asleep, he was so very still. +When he heard the sound of my steps, he let his hands fall to his side +and got up. I never saw the stamp of grief more strongly marked on any +human face than on his as he turned toward me.</p> + +<p>"Read that," he said, hoarsely, at the same time pushing a letter nearer +me that was lying on the table. I read as follows:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Herr Doctor</span>: Forgive me for not having written sooner to tell +you that I had made a mistake. I find that I do not love you. I +had mistaken friendship for love. I soon found out that this +was the case, but was afraid to write to you sooner. That is +why I only write now, the week before I am married to Chaim. +Perhaps you may think that I am forced to marry him by my +father, but that is not the case—I do it willingly. Forgive +me, Herr Doctor—it was a mistake.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Rachel.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>"It was a mistake!" cried Adolf in despair, and then sank fainting on +the floor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>One spring morning, more than four years after that gloomy winter day +when Adolf received the news of Rachel's treachery, I was seated in a +large dull house in Vienna bending over a manuscript.</p> + +<p>My servant came into the room and gave me a card, saying that the +gentleman was waiting to see whether I could receive him.</p> + +<p>I looked at the card, and on seeing the name of Dr. Adolf Leiblinger, +rushed to the outer door and opened it.</p> + +<p>I had not seen my friend for two years. We had never met since the day +when he came to me and said very quietly and unconcernedly: "I have +accepted a medical appointment under the Dutch Government, and am to +start for Batavia immediately. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>He was very little changed. His pale face, with its unalterable +expression of calm defiance, had only grown browner and darker in the +tropical climate where he had lived during the last year or two.</p> + +<p>"So you've come back to Europe!" I exclaimed joyfully. "I am so glad. +You remember how earnestly I tried to dissuade you from carrying out +your project. Going to that murderous climate was neither more nor less +than a sort of suicide on your part."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was so," he answered, calmly, "you're quite right."</p> + +<p>"You'll remain here now that you've come back, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. My life is not a happy one even now, but it is no longer +miserable. I am, and always shall be, indifferent to death; but so long +as I live it shall be my endeavor to make my life as useful as possible. +I shall settle down either here or in some other university town, as +assistant professor."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to hear it," I said. "I never lost hope that time would +bring you healing."</p> + +<p>"If you call this healing, it was not time that brought it, but—a +letter."</p> + +<p>"A letter!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—from Barnow—from <i>her</i>. As soon as I got it I set out for +Europe—and went straight to Barnow. I think that I traveled quicker +than any one ever did before,—and yet I arrived too late."</p> + +<p>"She is dead?" I asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she died four weeks ago."</p> + +<p>"She called you to visit her on her deathbed then?"</p> + +<p>"As you know the whole story, I will let you read her letter."</p> + +<p>He put it in my hand.</p> + +<p>It was written in trembling and scarcely legible characters, and ran as +follows:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Spring will soon be here, but I feel that I shall not live to +see it, so I will write to you now when I have strength. I do +so partly for my own sake, but far more for yours. For my sake, +that you may not despise me after I am dead, and for yours, +that you may no longer have the pain of feeling that the woman +you loved was unworthy of you.</p> + +<p>"I lied in that letter which I wrote to you four years ago. I +loved you then, love you now, and shall love you till I die. +And if God grants that we are the same in heaven as on earth, I +shall love you even after death. And it was because I loved you +that I parted from you.</p> + +<p>"Do not shake your head in despair at these strange words.</p> + +<p>"Happiness that I had purchased at the expense of my father's +curse and my mother's despair would not have been pure and +unsullied. But I should have lived that down.</p> + +<p>"<i>One</i> thing alone I could not have got over—you smiled at me +for saying so long ago, and yet I was right: my ignorance +unfitted me for the position your wife would have to hold.</p> + +<p>"I had lived too long, in a little provincial town, a gray, +still life passed in utter ignorance of the world and its ways; +I could not have borne an active life and the full light of +day. I should not have been able rightly to understand you +either in sorrow or in joy, and that would have been terrible +to me, and perhaps even more terrible to you. I should never +have been at my ease with your friends or their wives; they +would have laughed at my manners and mode of speaking, and I +should have been hurt and you also. You would then perhaps have +kept me shut out from society, and I could not have borne that. +The thought that my husband was ashamed of me would have been +agony to me—as well as to you. And so the time would have +surely come of which I once warned you: you would have cursed +the hour when I became your wife. You would not have separated +from me—I know that. But we should have been unhappy, and you, +perhaps, would have been even more unhappy than I.</p> + +<p>"I saw all this clearly, and I loved you so dearly that I did +not want you to be made miserable through me. So I determined +that the sorrow should all be mine—told my parents that I +would marry Chaim, and wrote that letter to you.</p> + +<p>"Though I lied to you, I told Chaim the whole truth. I told +him my story, and said that I could only be his faithful +servant and helper. He answered that time would put all right. +I knew that it would have no effect, but I had taken up my +burden and would bear it.</p> + +<p>"It was right, and I do not complain.</p> + +<p>"But, alas! I must needs confess that I was too weak to bear my +weight of sorrow. I have become pale and ill, and my heart +beats so quickly at times that I often faint. I am growing so +much weaker that I feel that death must be drawing very near. +But I have no fear of death, and I thank God for His goodness +in letting me suffer for so short a time, instead of for a long +term of years. What good would a long life have been to me?</p> + +<p>"Ever since the day I formed the resolution never to be your +wife, I have looked forward to writing you one letter that +should tell you the whole truth before I died. I never thought +that the happiness would have come to me so soon of justifying +my conduct in your eyes.</p> + +<p>"My life is drawing to a close—our God is truly a merciful +God. And now, let me thank you once more for all your love for +me. You have been the light and joy of my poor dark life. You +made me happy, and are innocent of causing my sorrow. Forgive +all the pain that I have brought upon you. It is my last +entreaty, and I am dying.</p> + +<p>"Ah no!—I have something else to beg of you, and if you do not +grant my request, I shall find no rest in the grave.</p> + +<p>"Your friend, the doctor's son, told his people in one of his +letters that you were now living in a distant land, where the +sun is very hot, and where nearly all foreigners die of a +malignant fever. He wrote that you had probably gone there +because my marriage had caused you misery and despair. I can +not tell you what I suffered when I heard that, and were I to +attempt to do so you would hardly believe it. But I entreat of +you, leave that deadly climate. My heart tells me that you are +the greatest and best doctor that ever lived. Come home and +help poor sick people.</p> + +<p>"Your mother's old prayer-book, that you gave me long ago, +shall be buried with me.</p> + +<p>"Farewell! May your life be as long and happy as I wish it to +be! I shall be dead when you read this letter.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Rachel.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>I silently returned the letter to my friend.</p> + +<p>He rose, and said as quietly as before: "Now you know why I am going to +remain in Europe. Good-by for the present."</p> + +<p>But when we had taken each other's hand in silence, the proud reserved +man broke down utterly. With a low heart-broken sob, he ejaculated:</p> + +<p>"Why couldn't it have been otherwise? Why?..."</p> + +<p>I know not what answer to make to this question any more than he did, +and so I do not venture to add another word to the story of Rachel Welt, +who used to be known in Barnow by the name of "Esterka Regina."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BARON_SCHMULE" id="BARON_SCHMULE"></a>"BARON SCHMULE."</h2> + +<h3>(1874.)</h3> + + +<p>When driving from Barnow toward the south, to Bukowina or Moldavia, a +grand castle may be seen perched on the top of a hill at about three +hours'<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> distance from Barnow. It is situated near Z——, at which +place the highroad crosses the Dniester, and it stands so high that its +white walls and shimmering windows may be seen from a great distance. It +is surrounded by beautiful pleasure-grounds, which extend over the hill, +and stretch far out into the plain below. It is, perhaps, the most +beautiful place in Podolia, and is certainly better kept up than any +other. Its owner is known far and wide as "Baron Schmule;" for although +he is now the powerful Freiherr Sigismund von Ronnicki, he began life as +Schmule Runnstein.</p> + +<p>His success was rapid and wonderful, for he went straight as an arrow +toward his object, without wasting time by looking to the right hand or +to the left. Very few people can do that. Most men resemble tops, for +they are quite satisfied with making rapid and noisy gyrations, and do +not perceive that they never leave the spot from which they started, but +are only turning round and round upon their own axis; while the arrow, +which Baron Schmule resembled, neither hastens nor lags in its flight, +but makes straight for the mark. Putting metaphor aside, let me say that +Baron Schmule knew what he wanted, and attained the object for which he +strove as quickly and certainly as if he had had two eyes to guide him +on his way instead of one.</p> + +<p>Like every one else, he began life as a top; but something happened that +changed his whole character, and with his character, his career. That +something was a <i>blow with a riding-whip</i>. It is a strange story....</p> + +<p>More than fifty years ago a poor widow lived in Z—— with her son. She +strove to make enough to feed and clothe them both by the proceeds of +her trade of confectioner—a poor one to follow in a place so small as +Z——. She was called Miriam Runnstein. The little boy began to help his +mother as soon as he could walk and count: he had to sell the +sweetmeats that his mother made, and used to perambulate the streets, +calling, "Who'll buy 'Fladen'? 'Fladen' and almond comfits! who'll buy? +who'll buy?"</p> + +<p>But very few people in the Ghetto make a practice of eating sweetmeats, +and a marriage or circumcision feast, on which occasion a confectioner +is hired for the day, is not of constant occurrence. Pennies came in +very slowly, and poor little Schmule often cried with hunger, as he +walked about trying to sell the sugar-plums in his basket.</p> + +<p>His best customers lived at the castle, about half a mile<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> from the +town. This castle belonged to Baron Wodnicki. Alfred Wodnicki was a very +rich man—so rich that, although he was a great spendthrift, he could +not manage to squander much more than the income accruing from his +immense property. He lived very little at the castle, for he was soon +bored by the quietness and dullness of country life, so he spent most of +his time at Paris or Baden-Baden. He always went to Baden-Baden when his +wife was in Paris, and to Paris when she was at Baden-Baden. The husband +and wife got on very well together now that they had agreed to live +separate lives. Their only child, young Baron Wladislaus, did not live +at the castle either, but had been sent to a celebrated Jesuit seminary +at Krakau.</p> + +<p>So the servants had the castle all to themselves. There is an old Polish +proverb that runs very much to this effect: "Who is so idle and has so +sweet a tooth as a lackey!" The proverb was true in this case at least. +Little Schmule always found purchasers for his wares when he had +succeeded in dragging his heavy basket up the hill, and so he used often +to go there both in summer and winter, although it was a long way for +such a little fellow to walk with his burden. It is true that he got as +many boxes on the ear as pence, but what did he care for that?—a Jewish +child was used to such treatment!</p> + +<p>So time went on, till Schmule was thirteen years old. Who knows how long +he might have gone on hawking his mother's "Fladen" and almond comfits +about the country-side, if something had not happened that changed the +whole course of his life.</p> + +<p>One very hot day in August Schmule set out for the castle. The sun was +blazing down upon him, and the great heat made him pant as he toiled up +the steep ascent leading to the castle; but he almost ran, he was so +eager to get to the top—and no wonder. It was between eleven and twelve +on a Friday morning, and there was not a penny at home with which to buy +the Sabbath dinner. If hunger is hard to bear on an ordinary day, it is +much worse on the Sabbath, when there is more time to think of it.</p> + +<p>As Schmule hastened along, he was far too busy thinking of what had to +be bought on his return to Z——, to look about him, or to keep his ears +open; and so he never heard a horse galloping up the drive, until it was +so close to him that he only saved himself from being ridden over by a +hasty spring on one side.</p> + +<p>The rider was a pale-faced youth, with a fowling-piece at his side, and +turned out to be young Baron Wladislaus Wodnicki, who had come home to +spend his summer holidays. He laughed heartily when he saw what a fright +he had given the Jewish boy, who was still trembling too much to +remember to touch his cap. He then turned his horse and rode slowly up +to Schmule, till he almost touched him. The latter meanwhile pressed as +close as he could to the wall of rock that bordered the drive.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you touch your cap to me, you rascal?" asked the young +Baron, raising his riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"Because—I—was—so—frightened," stammered Schmule.</p> + +<p>The young man lowered his riding-whip, and after a few moments' thought, +burst into a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"You're afraid of the horse, are you?" he asked; "very well, then, go +and stand there," pointing to the middle of the road. "Don't you hear +me? <i>There!</i>" he repeated, angrily; and the boy obeyed with manifest +terror. "Now, then," he continued, "don't move from there till I allow +you—do you understand? It'll be the worse for you if you move," and +snatching up his gun, he went on. "I swear, by all the saints, that I'll +shoot you down like a mad dog if you move!"</p> + +<p>After saying this he rode on, and then turned again, and galloped down +the drive straight at the boy.</p> + +<p>Schmule watched the horse approaching him with the fascination of +terror—a mist came over his eyes—in another moment he jumped out of +the way and—the horse, instead of hitting him, only knocked the basket +of sweetmeats from his back, scattering its contents all over the dusty +road. The boy also fell, but only from nervous fear.</p> + +<p>"You did move, you scoundrel!" cried Baron Wladislaus, putting his gun +to his shoulder. Suddenly he changed his mind, and restoring his +fowling-piece to its place, rushed at the boy with his riding-whip. The +latter, in order to avoid as much as possible the violent blows that +were aimed at him, now with the end and now with the knob of the whip, +threw himself at the young man's feet.</p> + +<p>All at once Schmule uttered a heart-rending shriek, and fell senseless +on the ground.</p> + +<p>And then Baron Wladislaus rode away.</p> + +<p>An hour later a kind-hearted peasant took the unconscious boy in his +hay-cart to the little Jewish town, and gave him to his mother. It is +unnecessary to say what the poor woman felt when she saw her boy's +disfigured countenance and senseless state—such things are better not +described.</p> + +<p>The doctor came, restored Schmule to consciousness, and washed and bound +up his wounds. He said that the boy would soon be quite well again, but +that the sight of his right eye was gone for ever.</p> + +<p>Schmule had an unexpected visitor on the first day that he was able to +get out of bed. Fat Gregor, the young Baron's valet, came to see him. He +brought the boy two ducats, and told him that his master was ready and +willing to pay both the doctor and apothecary, if he would forbear +making any complaint to the magistrate of his conduct.</p> + +<p>"Go!" cried Schmule—that was all that he said—but his remaining eye +glared so savagely at Gregor, that the latter thought discretion the +better part of valor, and beat a hasty retreat. As soon as he got back +to the castle, he went to his master, and said: "Beg your pardon, Herr +Baron, you've sent the Jew stark-staring mad as well as knocked out his +eye—he was more like a wild beast than anything else."</p> + +<p>When Schmule was able to go out again, his first walk was to the court +of justice. The leader of the synagogue offered to go with him, but he +said he wanted to go alone. "Thank you," he said; "but it isn't +necessary. I am no longer a child—that blow has made me ten years +older. Besides that, I only want justice."</p> + +<p>He went to the judge and made his complaint. The trial began, and was +carried on as—well as all such trials were in those days. What chance +had a poor Jewish boy against a Polish noble long ago? None! But the +trial had one merit: it was short. The persons interested in it were not +long kept in suspense as to what the verdict was to be. All was settled +in the space of a month. Schmule was then cited to appear before the +court, and the Herr Mandatar said to him very sternly: "Your story was a +lie, Jew! You did not get out of the Herr Baron's way, but insisted on +pressing close up to the horse, and so you were accidentally struck by +the riding-whip. You may be thankful that Baron Wladislaus has been good +enough to pardon you for making such a calumnious charge against him, +otherwise you might have been tried for perjury! Now—go!"</p> + +<p>Schmule went home.</p> + +<p>When he entered his mother's kitchen, the good woman was so startled by +the look on his face, that she exclaimed, in terror: "Child, child! what +is the matter? Has anything worse happened?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, "something much worse—justice has been denied me." +His voice here died away into an indistinct murmur, but at last his +mother heard him say: "I will do as the Herr Mandatar advised me—I will +be grateful for Baron Wladislaus's kindness...."</p> + +<p>"Son!" cried the old woman, in a voice of agony. "I know what you're +going to do. I can read it in your face. You're going to steal into the +castle and murder him in his sleep!..."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Schmule, with a smile. "That wouldn't do at all, for they +would hang me for murder, and who would take care of you then? No, my +vengeance must be of another kind—I must become a rich man."</p> + +<p>"God has darkened your understanding, my son," moaned the old woman. But +she wept still more bitterly when Schmule told her that he had made up +his mind to go to Barnow. He sold the only things that belonged to him, +which would not be required now that he was going away—his bed and +bedding. The sale of these articles brought him five gulden in all, +because at the last moment he threw in some prayer-books that he did not +want. As he was going away he promised to send his mother a share of his +earnings.</p> + +<p>He went to Barnow with his little store of five gulden, or about five +florins in English money, in his pocket, and there set up a little pack, +consisting of matches, soap, pomade, and feathers. He sold his +merchandise at the inns and in the streets. And, as he was untiring in +his labors, and spent very little on himself, he was able both to +support his mother and to lay by a little money.</p> + +<p>In two years' time he was so far beforehand with the world, that he gave +up this mode of gaining his livelihood, and bought a large store of +goods such as country people require. He then began to travel about the +country-side as a peddler; and a very hard life he led. Like Nathan +Bilkes, the father of Frau Christine, he wandered about, with a great +pack on his back, from village to village, and from fair to fair. He was +seldom paid in money for his goods, but received fruit and skins +instead. This circumstance, however, was of advantage to him.</p> + +<p>After having worked as a peddler for three years, he returned to Barnow, +and set up a stall for small-wares in a corner of the market-place. His +success was so great that he was soon able to rent a real shop, and to +keep his mother more comfortably. But he remained as abstemious as +before with regard to himself. His food consisted for the most part of +dry bread, for he only allowed himself the luxury of a bit of meat upon +the Sabbath.</p> + +<p>His mother died when he was twenty-three—that is, ten years after he +left Z——. She died in his arms. When he had buried her, and the eight +days of mourning were over, he went to Czernowitz, which is a larger +town than Barnow. As chance would have it, Baron Wladislaus Wodnicki, +who had just taken the management of his estates into his own hands, +drove past him in his phaeton, as he was leaving the little town of +Z——. "I am glad to have seen him," said Schmule to his traveling +companion; "for otherwise grief might have made me idle for some time to +come."</p> + +<p>Schmule was now alone in the world, but still he worked as hard as if he +had had a large family to support, and so he gradually became well to do +in the world. He was much respected as an honorable man, fair in all his +dealings; and this, added to his wealth, enabled him to gain the hand in +marriage of one of the richest heiresses in Czernowitz, in spite of his +having only one eye. After his marriage he increased his business +considerably, and became well known in the commercial world as Samuel +Runnstein, the dry-salter. And again, as if this did not give him enough +to do, he set up a large wine business, in addition to the other.</p> + +<p>Schmule now showed for the first time to their full extent the marvelous +powers of work and determination of character that he possessed. He +traveled all over Germany and France, Russia and Moldavia, setting up +agencies everywhere. Ten years later he was looked upon as the richest +merchant in the whole district.</p> + +<p>At length his wife died, leaving him a little daughter. Schmule now sold +the good-will of both the wine and dry-salting businesses, and became a +corn-merchant. He bought in Podolia, Bessarabia, and Moldavia, and sold +in the Western markets. There was only one landowner from whom he would +buy nothing, and that was Baron Wladislaus Wodnicki: although the +bailiff offered him very good bargains, he was not to be tempted. The +unfortunate bailiff had rather a hard time of it—he found it so +difficult to provide his master with a large and constant supply of +money. For Wladislaus succeeded in doing what the old Baron had never +done: every month he spent as much as his estates brought in in the +year. His wife, a French lady, did her part in squandering her husband's +wealth. And so the bailiff came to Schmule and begged him to buy some +corn, but he refused, saying with a strange smile: "I made a vow more +than five-and-twenty years ago that I would only do <i>one</i> stroke of +business with your master; and the time for that has not come yet...."</p> + +<p>Years passed, and Schmule grew richer and richer. He married again, and +his wife brought him a large fortune. Then came the year 1848, with its +revolutionary restlessness; and Schmule, who knew how to turn everything +to his advantage, became a millionaire. He was now known as Herr +Sigismund Runnstein, and the Russian Government employed him to +provision their army in Hungary. By this means he made a great deal more +money. After that he gave up business, and when any one wanted him to +undertake some new project, he refused, alleging that he preferred to +wait.</p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. It is quite possible to squander even a +colossal fortune if one has a mind to do it. Two years later, Baron +Wladislaus and his wife were obliged to leave Paris. They returned to +Z——, but even there they found it difficult to get enough money to +live on; for their estates were so deeply mortgaged that not a blade of +grass could really be said to belong to them, and their creditors became +more and more troublesome every day. After a time, the Baroness went +back to her own people in France, and the Baron, who had to remain at +Z—— whether he would or not, sought comfort first in champagne, and +afterward, when that became too expensive a luxury, in schnapps.</p> + +<p>At length one day he found himself no longer beset by his creditors. +Schmule had bought up all the claims against him, although they amounted +to many thousand pounds sterling. "It's the first bad bargain that +Schmule Runnstein ever made," said all his friends. But the general +astonishment was much increased when it was discovered that he +apparently let things alone after that, and took no steps to foreclose.</p> + +<p>But in spite of appearances, he had not been idle. He sent a petition to +the Emperor, begging for leave to buy an estate; for in those days the +Galician Jews were legally incapacitated from holding land. He even went +to Vienna, to support his cause in person. But all in vain. "If I had +committed murder," said Schmule when he came home, "I might perhaps have +persuaded the Government to let me off; but this request they will not +grant."</p> + +<p>He wandered about for many days, lost in deep and melancholy thought. At +last, after a terrible struggle, he determined on the course he meant to +pursue. He went to his wife, whom he loved dearly, and said to her: "I +have made up my mind to be baptized and become a Christian. Don't look +so frightened, and don't cry—listen to me quietly. I <i>must</i> do it. My +whole life would otherwise be a lie, a folly, a failure. I must become +possessor of the Wodnicki estates. I have lived poorly and worked +hard—harder perhaps than any other man on the face of the earth. And +now it is not a reward that I demand, but my just right. This is the +<i>only</i> way that I can attain it, so it must be done. But you shall +choose for yourself; I leave you free. How dearly I love you I need not +say, but still I repeat—I will not oppose your decision, whatever it +may be...."</p> + +<p>She loved him too, but she could not give up her religion, and so they +parted.</p> + +<p>Schmule became a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and took the name +of Sigismund Ronnicki. His daughter by his first marriage, who was +nearly grown up, was baptized at the same time, and received the name of +Maria.</p> + +<p>The conversion of the rich Jew and his daughter was the theme of endless +conversation in the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>The day after he had been received into the Christian Church, Schmule +foreclosed all the mortgages he held upon Wladislaus's estates, and, as +was to be expected, the land went at a very low price. Schmule bought +it. The Baron disappeared—no one knew where he had gone; and Schmule +took up his abode at the castle of Z——, with his daughter Maria.</p> + +<p>In the year 1854, when the army was so much increased that the state was +greatly in want of money, Schmule bought himself the title of "Freiherr" +for a large sum.</p> + +<p>But still he used to say, "I haven't got all that I want yet—my full +right."</p> + +<p>But the time was fast approaching when this strange man's last wish was +to be fulfilled.</p> + +<p>One day an announcement was made in the Polish newspapers, to the effect +that a comfortable home and suitable maintenance had been provided for +that irredeemable vagabond and drunkard, Baron Wladislaus Wodnicki, by +the kindness of a noble-minded benefactor.</p> + +<p>And so it was. The "noble-minded benefactor" was Baron Sigismund +Ronnicki, who had literally picked the "vagabond" out of the streets of +Barnow, where he was wandering houseless and forlorn, and had taken him +home to his castle at Z——. Wladislaus was given everything he wanted +except—schnapps. And why was this, and this alone, denied him? "When he +drinks schnapps," said Schmule, "he forgets everything that has +happened. And I intend that he should remember. I will have my right."</p> + +<p>But the "drunkard" was not to be long a source of satisfaction to the +new lord of the castle. At midsummer, in the year following, a great +feast was given by Schmule, in honor of his daughter's marriage to a +Magyar noble. During the evening Wodnicki succeeded in getting some +schnapps. He drank freely, and then staggered out of doors, and down the +drive in which he had met the Jewish boy fifty years before.</p> + +<p>He never returned to the castle.</p> + +<p>Next morning he was found lying dead under the steep wall of rock that +bounded one side of the drive. Whether he had fallen over the precipice +in his drunken blindness, or had thrown himself over, no one ever knew.</p> + +<p>This is one of the many strange stories that take place on this earth of +ours.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PICTURE_OF_CHRIST" id="THE_PICTURE_OF_CHRIST"></a>THE PICTURE OF CHRIST.</h2> + +<h3>(1868.)</h3> + + +<p>... How distinctly I can see the little town even now, with its narrow, +tortuous, and gloomy streets, its ruined castle on the top of the hill, +and its stately monastery near the river! It is to this last that I wish +to draw the reader's attention. The Dominican monastery is a huge pile +of buildings surrounded by a wall in which one can still see the traces +of the old Tartar attacks of long ago. Within the wall is a confused +mass of chapels and dwelling-houses, separated from each other by damp, +moss-grown courtyards, or by sparsely covered grass-plots. I often went +there in my boyhood, and used to like playing among the graves in the +little churchyard. I also delighted in listening to the echo of my +footsteps in the great empty refectory; but I liked best of all to go to +the "Abbot's Chapel," a small Byzantine building which was known by that +name, and look up at a picture that had been hung there a short time +before. It had been painted by the proud and beautiful Gräfin Jadwiga +Bortynska, lady of the manor of Barnow. It was a wonderful +picture—breathing love and peace. Christ was represented standing on +vaporous clouds, His hands stretched out in blessing over the earth. The +pale face, which was, as it were, framed in black curls, had an +expression of divine love and sublime goodness—perfect man and perfect +God.</p> + +<p>But I did not think of that when I first saw the picture, for I was then +only a thoughtless boy of twelve years old. It was on a bright, warm +autumn day that I saw it first. An hour after it was hung up in its +place, little Wladik, the sexton's son, showed it to me. The sunshine +was falling full upon it at the time, and I almost started as I saw the +life-like figure in its dark frame.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who it is?" I asked my school-fellow.</p> + +<p>"How can you ask?" he exclaimed with boyish indignation. "It is our Lord +Jesus Christ, whom the Jews crucified."</p> + +<p>"No, Wladik," I answered with the utmost decision, "it isn't; it's +Bocher David, who used to teach me until last spring."</p> + +<p>Wladik was very angry, and scolded me well for saying such a dreadful +thing, but he could not convince me that I was wrong: I knew what I +knew. When I went home in the evening I told my father about the +picture.</p> + +<p>"Silly child," he said with a smile; "who could have painted it?"</p> + +<p>"Our Frau Gräfin," I replied.</p> + +<p>My father looked grave. "Well, well," he said thoughtfully, "it is +almost incredible...."</p> + +<p>"What?" I asked quickly. But he told me to be quiet.</p> + +<p>I should not then have understood what he meant; but I heard the story +afterward when I was older—the sad story of that picture of Christ in +the chapel at Barnow—and learned that it was also, as I had supposed, a +portrait of my old teacher, Bocher David.</p> + +<p>It is a strange story, reader, and will seem all the more extraordinary +to you, if you have been brought up in a Western home, and have been +accustomed from your infancy to civilization and tolerance of others. It +is also sad, very sad. But do not blame me for that, for my heart +bleeds when I remember this over-true tale, which must be regarded as +one of the dark riddles of life, and as the doing of that eternal, +inscrutable Power that deals out darkness or light, happiness or misery, +to the weak human heart....</p> + +<p>I will now tell you the story.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The small town of Barnow lies in the middle of an immense plain. Close +to it is the only hill for several miles around, and on the top of this +little hill are the ruins of a castle where the lords of Barnow, or +Barecki Starosts, used to live. The last of this race, an old man, weak +in mind as in body, now lives in his cheerless house by the river-side; +while the new lord of the manor, Graf Bortynski, lives in a new and +splendid castle in the plain, far away from the one-storied cottages, +the rickety little houses, the narrow, airless streets of Barnow, and +all the want and misery of the people who inhabit them.</p> + +<p>But these inhabitants of Barnow are happy, their streets are light and +airy, and their houses comfortable, in comparison with those who have to +live in that part of the town which is built in the unhealthy marshes +near the river. It is always dark and gloomy there, however brightly the +sun may shine, and dark pestiferous vapors fill the air, although the +meadows beyond may be full of flowers. And this wretched part of the +town is the most thickly inhabited of all, for it is the Ghetto, the +Jews' quarter, or, as they call it in Barnow, the "Gasse."</p> + +<p>David was the strangest and most mysterious-looking figure in the +"Gasse," which was anyhow only too full of such people—for when plants +are kept in the dark they are apt to take eccentric forms. He was the +son of the former rabbi of the town. Even in his boyhood he had been the +pride and delight of his father, and indeed of the whole community. His +bright young intelligence was early able to comprehend the secrets of +the Talmud, its subtleties and riddles, and the boy was looked upon with +wondering admiration by all. For, pale and delicate as he was, the Jews +of Barnow believed that he would live to become a great scribe, learned +in the Scriptures. So they forgave his hastiness and fits of passion.</p> + +<p>In course of time the old rabbi died, and left his widow and only child +nothing but his great library and the love of the whole congregation. +The community did what they could for the widow and orphan, or rather +did what they thought proper and necessary. David and his mother were +allowed to remain in the small back rooms of their old house, and the +front rooms were given to the new rabbi. It was right and fitting that +it should be so, but it wounded the child's feelings. David no longer +heard the words of praise that he had been accustomed to, although he +deserved them more and more every day; so he became ever more defiant, +and was consequently very much disliked. It happened one day that he +excelled the rabbi in his interpretation of a passage of the Talmud, and +afterward told different people that he had done so, and thus made an +enemy in the community. He was now as much disliked as he had once been +praised. His position grew unbearable. But as long as his mother lived, +he remained at Barnow. She was the only person he obeyed, and she alone +could sometimes bring a smile to the grave, sad face of her son. One +morning soon after her death, which happened when he was fifteen, David +disappeared. No one knew what had become of him. He was soon forgotten, +and was only spoken of now and then as the late rabbi's son, a wise and +learned youth, but wicked and wrong-headed to an extraordinary degree.</p> + +<p>He remained away for twelve long years.</p> + +<p>At length he returned unexpectedly, and rented one of the small rickety +houses in the little Podolian town. On the following day he went to the +elders of the synagogue, and to those men who were appointed to nurse +the sick, and told them that he had determined to devote his life to the +care of the sick and dying. He said that he knew many simples, and a +good deal about the art of healing, and entreated them to grant his +request, and not to spare him when he could be of any use. They were +astonished at his resolution, and praised him for his goodness. But as +time went on they learned really to appreciate his help, and blessed +him; then once more his praises were repeated from mouth to mouth as of +yore. But there was a certain air of mystery about him, for he made no +intimacies in the "Gasse." No one knew what studies he was engaged in +when his night-lamp burned till early morning; no one knew what were his +resources, or where he had been during his absence from Barnow. The +rabbi, who had long forgotten David's boyish faults, and my +father—because he was the town doctor—used to see a good deal of him, +and they were the only people with whom he was on familiar terms. It was +discovered through them that he had been in the Holy Land, that he had +seen the countries of the West, and that he had even crossed the great +ocean, and had spent some time in "Amerikum," as it was called in the +language of the "Gasse." It was said that he could speak many foreign +tongues, that he knew everything, and could do whatever he chose, +whether good or evil, for he was a master of the "Cabala," and well +acquainted with the great and terrible secrets of the "Sohar," the +Cabalist primer; and, finally, that he had sworn to himself that he +would never marry, and so he was still a "bocher," or bachelor.</p> + +<p>But he either knew nothing of these rumors, or did not care what people +said of him. He helped all who were in need of his assistance, without +desiring either thanks or payment. And as time passed on, all began to +feel a deep respect, and even love, for the pale silent man who did so +much for them. His face had quite lost the gloomy passionate expression +of his boyhood, and had become at once grave and gentle. While every one +felt a fearless confidence in his kindness and sympathy, no one would +have ventured to treat him with familiarity. The "Bocher" was the only +inhabitant of the Ghetto whom the Christian boys neither pelted nor +scorned, although outwardly he was only distinguished from his brethren +in the faith by the careful cleanliness of his clothing. He wore the +same curious old-fashioned Polish garments as all the other Jews in +Poland and Russia; and no dress could have shown off to better advantage +his tall stately figure, and pale intellectual face surrounded by +clustering curls of black hair.</p> + +<p>This man was my teacher from my sixth till my twelfth year. I was a very +mischievous boy, always ready for fun, and hating to sit still, and he +treated me with continual grave kindness. We seldom exchanged a word +that had not to do with the lessons he was teaching me. But once it was +different: it was on the day on which I had gone to the monastery school +for the first time. I came home weeping bitterly because of the +contemptuous way in which my school-fellows had treated me for my +religion's sake. The "Bocher" came in, and I told him of my distress. He +listened to me in silence, and then opened the Bible at the place where +he had given me my last lesson on the previous evening. My tears would +not stop. "Don't cry," he said; "don't cry, my child, 'they know not +what they do.'" And then he added, in a harsh stern tone, such as I had +never heard from him before: "Don't cry. They are not worth your tears. +And a day of retribution will come sooner or later." I looked up at him +in surprise, and saw that his face wore a strange threatening +expression. He was silent for a time, and gradually the fierce look +faded away. Then he explained the passage to me in a quiet voice....</p> + +<p>I was his only pupil during all these years, but all at once he gave up +teaching me. A strange and important event had taken place in his own +life, which made him wish me to leave him. I only spoke to him once +afterward.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Old Graf Adam Bortynski was a hard man, loved by none and feared by all. +He belonged to a younger branch of the Bortynskis, and so had had very +little chance of ever becoming head of the family. He seldom lived in +the country, and had his rents sent to him in Paris, London, Monaco, or +Homburg. Very little was known about him in Barnow, when he suddenly +came there as master at the death of young Graf Arthur, who died in +Paris of apoplexy brought on by intemperance. People used to whisper +mysteriously in Barnow about that time that no one had had such an evil +influence on the late lord of the manor as his present successor, Graf +Adam.</p> + +<p>But, however that might be, Graf Adam was master now. He had never +married, although he was by no means a woman-hater; but on becoming head +of the family, he made up his mind that it was his duty to do so. He +chose lovely Jadwiga Polanska to be his wife. She was the daughter of an +impoverished noble in the vicinity. Every one knew that she feared and +hated Graf Bortynski, but it was also known that her father had sold her +to him; and several people who were better informed than the rest could +have told the price that had been paid for her to a farthing. For years +afterward the inhabitants of the little town used to talk about the +wedding procession, and tell how proud and triumphant Graf Adam had +looked that day, and how his bride had walked beside him pale as death, +and with an expression of deep wretchedness. The breakfast was very +grand, and went off well; but at an early hour on the following morning, +the servants heard a shot fired in the wing in which the rooms of the +newly-married couple were, and on hastening there they found Graf Adam +in his room, shot through the head, the pistol still convulsively +clutched in his right hand. No one knew what had induced him to commit +suicide in this unexpected way, and the pale young widow never said a +word to clear up the mystery.</p> + +<p>The story formed the subject of endless discussion and conjecture, until +something else happened to take its place. Such things are not of +uncommon occurrence in Poland and Russia! The estates went to the heir +of entail, the head of a distant branch of the family, and Gräfin +Jadwiga inherited the castle and town of Barnow.</p> + +<p>It seemed fated that the castle should remain uninhabited, for even the +young widow went away. She was eighteen when she left Barnow, and it was +years before she returned. Rumors were current of her triumphs as a +beauty and a wit in Paris, Heligoland, or Baden-Baden. She did not marry +again, as every one expected. One spring day she returned to Barnow, +after an absence of nearly ten years. The castle was once more +inhabited, and its courtyards were full of life and bustle. Gräfin +Jadwiga had grown rather stouter than of old, but she was still +beautiful, marvelously beautiful, in spite of what some people would +have thought the too great pallor of her face.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>One fine morning in May two young people were out riding together, and +enjoying the freshness and brightness of the weather.</p> + +<p>Were they happy? The rapid movement and the fresh morning air had +brought a tinge of color to the lady's pale face which was very becoming +to her. The Gräfin Jadwiga looked bright and sweet that day, and really +happy. Her companion did not look either so cheerful or so happy as she +did. He was a young man with fair hair, the stature of a giant, and the +heart of a child. Scandal-mongers even went so far as to say that he was +like a child in intellect also. But however that may be, it is true that +Baron Starsky loved Gräfin Jadwiga with all the intensity of <i>first</i> +love, as he used to call it, when he forgot that he had once talked +"love" to his mother's pretty little French maid. But that was long +ago—fully six months ago. He was very rich, his estates adjoined those +of the Gräfin, but he would have loved her even had this not been the +case. He wanted to have told her all this during that morning's ride, +and to have asked her to be his wife; but he had had no opportunity. Who +could make an offer to a woman when riding at a hand-gallop?</p> + +<p>At length Gräfin Jadwiga grew tired of what Baron Starsky inwardly +called the "mad pace" at which she had been going. The horses panted as +they returned toward the town at a walk; but, strangely enough, the +palpitation which Starsky had before ascribed to the quickness of the +pace at which he had been riding, did not in the least diminish. It grew +worse. The moment for speaking had come, and he hesitated whether or not +to seize it.</p> + +<p>He began to talk about the weather, like the good, stupid, loving giant +that he was. He expatiated on the beauty of the spring, and although as +a general rule he cared little or nothing for flowers, he now told +Gräfin Jadwiga a great many wonderful things about them. The pauses in +their conversation grew longer and longer. At last he saw with terror +that he could not keep up this kind of small-talk much longer.</p> + +<p>It was as though he had been suddenly relieved of a burden too heavy to +be borne, when the Gräfin suddenly reined in her horse, and asked, "What +can that curious dark figure down there in the meadow be?"</p> + +<p>Baron Starsky put up his eye-glass in order to see better.</p> + +<p>"It's a Jew, Gräfin," he said. "But look! he has got something shining +in his hand—a zinc box of some kind. What the deuce is he doing with +it?"</p> + +<p>"Let us ask him."</p> + +<p>So saying, the Gräfin leaped the ditch into the meadow, and Starsky of +course followed her. The Jew started as though he would have run away, +but changing his mind, he waited quietly until the riders approached +him. His whole manner showed how timid he was and how little at his +ease.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing there?" asked Gräfin Jadwiga.</p> + +<p>"I am collecting medicinal herbs for my sick people," he replied in pure +German.</p> + +<p>"You're a doctor!" she inquired in surprise. "That's a strange calling +for a tradesman or a Talmudist—and you Jews are all either the one or +the other—to pursue in addition to your other work...."</p> + +<p>Here Starsky interrupted her by asking somewhat roughly—</p> + +<p>"If you're only gathering herbs, why can't you look people full in the +face? Why do you breathe so hard—eh, Jew?"</p> + +<p>And stooping from the saddle, he seized him firmly by the shoulder. The +man wrenched himself free, and in so doing his hat fell off, letting +them see his noble, thoughtful face.</p> + +<p>"Leave me alone!" he cried, threateningly.</p> + +<p>Gräfin Jadwiga hastily thrust her horse between the angry men. She was +deadly pale, her breath came quick and fast, and her colorless lips +trembled as if she were trying in vain to speak. Her eyes never left +the Jew's face.</p> + +<p>He meanwhile had recovered his self-possession, and although pale, +looked calm and collected.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?... Is it <i>really</i> you?... Who are you?" she exclaimed, now +in a voice sharpened by anxiety, and again as though in joy....</p> + +<p>"My name is David Blum," he answered, in a low toneless voice. "People +call me Bocher David. I am a Jewish teacher and sick-nurse in your +town...."</p> + +<p>She reeled in her saddle and hid her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>"My God!" she moaned, "is it a bad dream?... It is you, Friedrich!... +Your voice!... Your face!... Why are you here, and in that dress?... Can +I be going mad?... Friedrich, it <i>must</i> be you ... Friedrich +Reimann!..."</p> + +<p>She dismounted, and going to him, took his hands in hers. Starsky felt +his head going round as he watched the scene.</p> + +<p>Bocher David had a hard struggle. He turned to go away; then he tried to +speak, but could not. At length he managed to force out the words in a +low, strained voice: "Friedrich Reimann is dead—has been dead for +years. I am David Blum, the sick-nurse."</p> + +<p>She drew a long breath.</p> + +<p>"I understand you," she said; "Friedrich is dead, but David Blum is +alive. And I must say to him what I can no longer say to Friedrich.... I +have sought you long, long and earnestly. I have found you at last. You +must not go until you have listened to me...."</p> + +<p>"It would be useless, Frau Gräfin," he answered, gently but firmly. +"Friedrich forgave you long ago—forgave you with all his heart...." +There was a look of pain on his face as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"But it isn't useless," she exclaimed, "or at least not to me. I entreat +you to listen to me only once—for one hour. Come and see me this +afternoon at the castle...."</p> + +<p>He shook his head with a sad smile.</p> + +<p>"Don't say no," she continued. "You are a Jew, and it was a Jew who +said, 'Be merciful to the weak!' It is for mercy that I beg.... Oh, +come!... For God's sake come, and for the sake of old times!..."</p> + +<p>"I promise," he said, after a short pause. Then silently raising his hat +he went away.</p> + +<p>Gräfin Jadwiga drew a long breath of relief, passed her hand across her +eyes as if she were waking from a dream, and then turned to Starsky, who +was approaching her with an expression of unmitigated astonishment. They +remounted their horses, and returned to Barnow Castle in silence. On +getting there they parted without a word.</p> + +<p>Starsky rode home to his father's house in deep thought, a very unusual +circumstance with him. Gräfin Jadwiga Bortynska and Bocher David.... His +brain reeled.... And this was the woman he would have asked to be his +wife! If he had done so, she would perhaps have accepted +him—<i>perhaps?</i>—undoubtedly—certainly! It was horrible!...</p> + +<p>The domestic annals of the house of Starsky contained an unwonted +occurrence on that day: a youthful member of that noble family ate very +little dinner, and remained lost in thought during the whole of the rest +of the afternoon!...</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The park at Barnow Castle was very prettily laid out in flower-beds, and +beyond these it was dotted with clumps of fine old trees. The air was +full of the song of birds and the perfume of spring flowers. The sun was +shining brightly.</p> + +<p>A small summer-house was situated in a quiet corner, and from its +windows one could look down over blossoming elder-bushes upon the blue +waters of the lake, in which the willows at the edge were mirrored. It +was a place to sit and dream in.</p> + +<p>But the woman who was seated in the large easy-chair near the window was +not thinking pleasant thoughts. Her eyes, which were gazing fixedly at +some point in the horizon, saw nothing of the quiet beauty of the spring +landscape. Her expression was as sad and despairing as her heart. The +mask she wore in public had fallen from her face, and she looked what +she was—an unhappy, sorely tried woman, and haunted by the bitter +memories of the past....</p> + +<p>Memories of the past!</p> + +<p>The days of childhood and early youth, which other people look back upon +as an Eden of light and joy, were a time of which she never thought +without a shuddering horror:—the dissipation and penury of the life in +her father's house—a life of misery and constant dread.... Her mother, +a pale, broken-hearted woman, who, foreseeing her husband's ruin, had +yet been powerless to prevent it, and who had at last faded and died +under the weight of a burden too heavy for her to bear.... She had been +the good angel of the house. After her death matters had come to a +climax, and everything had to be sold except a small estate to which +Jadwiga and her father had been removed.... How distinctly she +remembered the following years, with their ever-increasing poverty and +shame! This last was the worst—it had been harder to bear than even +cold and hunger. And the hopelessness of it all!... Her father, indeed, +had been able to find continual comfort in all the ills of life in the +brandy-bottle, and when he had drunk himself into a good humor and +hopefulness, it had irritated him to see his daughter's sad tearful +face. On such occasions he used to beat her cruelly in order to make her +look cheerful!...</p> + +<p>As Jadwiga thought of these things her face wore an expression of utter +contempt. Alas for those who can only remember their parents with scorn!</p> + +<p>She grew up to be a beautiful woman, in spite of her tears and the blows +she had to bear. But she cursed her beauty, and she cursed the day on +which Graf Adam had first seen her and fallen in love with her. She +shuddered as she thought of the day when he had bought her from her +father for ten thousand Polish gulden; when her father had come to her +and had told her that she must be Gräfin Bortynska, if she did not wish +to see him, a gray-haired old man, begging his bread from door to door. +She remembered how she had thrown herself at his feet, and entreated him +with tears not to give her into the power of that harsh, cruel old man, +whom she hated and feared, and who, people said, was a murderer. How she +had promised to work for her father and herself, were it even as a +domestic servant, swearing that he should never, never starve. But all +in vain!... A Polanska should never become a household drudge.... And +after that she had become Graf Adam's bride....</p> + +<p>Her memory of that time was so vivid that it was almost more than she +could bear. She started up from her seat, and paced up and down the +summer-house with folded arms and tightly compressed lips. But it was of +no use; one picture of the past after another rose up before her.</p> + +<p>Once more she lived through that time of misery. She thought of the day +when they had dragged her to church, an unwilling victim, and had forced +her to perjure her soul in the sight of her God; her God, who had +hitherto been the only light and comfort in her dark life, and whom they +had thus, as it were, made a lie to her. She thought of the +marriage-feast, during which she had first made up her mind that either +she or her husband should die before morning.</p> + +<p>She remembered how slowly the minutes had passed, till she could at +length get up and leave the table. She had gone at once to her room, and +finding her maid waiting for her, had sent her to bed. She had then +turned with loathing from the sight of the luxury surrounding her, and +had busied herself with thoughts of vengeance on the man who had forced +her to marry him, knowing all the time how she hated him.</p> + +<p>Even now, so many years afterward, she could not help shuddering, when +she remembered that she had suddenly gained sufficient calmness to carry +out the diabolical plan she had thought of. She recollected how she had +taken one of the heavy silver candlesticks on her table, and had gone +through all the echoing passages and rooms in the wing in which her +rooms were situated. She had avoided looking in any of the mirrors that +she passed, fearing to see her own face, for she had a horror of +herself.</p> + +<p>She had at last come to the large folding-doors opening into the +picture-gallery. She had gone in. At the end of the long row of +portraits, she had seen two leaning against the wall, and on examining +them had seen that they were those of the late Graf Arthur and of her +husband. They had come from Paris on the previous day, but had not been +hung up, because they had been forgotten in the hurry and confusion +caused by the preparations for the marriage.</p> + +<p>She had then lifted the portrait of Graf Arthur in her arms. It was very +heavy, but she had not felt it. She had carried it to her room, and laid +it on a table in the middle of the room, and had arranged the +wax-candles round it in such a way as thoroughly to illuminate it.</p> + +<p>Then with difficulty controlling her nervous horror, she had sat down in +the window and waited. The thoughts that had assailed her during those +hours of passive endurance were maddening. It was not until the gray of +the early morning that she had heard Graf Adam's step....</p> + +<p>She had risen to meet him, pale and determined, and as he entered she +had seen from his face that he had been drinking deeply.</p> + +<p>His eyes had at once fallen on the portrait of his victim.</p> + +<p>In the pale gray of the morning, and with the flickering light of the +candles falling upon it, the pictured face had seemed alive and about to +start out of its frame.</p> + +<p>She remembered how Graf Adam had started back on seeing it, and how his +drunken senses had reeled with ghostly terror.... That was what she had +counted upon.... She had then said in a clear hard voice: "Begone!... +You are a murderer!... Your victim stands between you and me...."</p> + +<p>And Graf Adam had turned and staggered from the room.</p> + +<p>When he had gone, she had sunk back in her chair, with a beating heart +and trembling limbs.</p> + +<p>A minute later she had heard a shot.</p> + +<p>Gräfin Jadwiga closed her eyes, hoping thus to change the current of her +thoughts. She clasped her hands over her face. In vain! The memories of +the past persistently haunted her!...</p> + +<p>She thought of the wretched time she had passed through immediately +after her husband's death—when she had been expected to weep and show +grief for his death, although her only feeling had been a dumb horror. +She had gone abroad as soon as she could. Life at the castle would have +been unendurable in those days.</p> + +<p>She remembered how she had shone as a queen of fashion in luxurious +Paris <i>salons</i>. She had seemed happy then, for her smile had been +frequent, and her conversation both brilliant and witty. But in reality +she had not been happy, because she had not been able to forget, and +because the gay world and its amusements had not filled the void in her +heart.</p> + +<p>Then temptation had come to her....</p> + +<p>A fair-haired, pale, foolish ruler: the curse of his country; the worthy +son of a half-imbecile father and a vicious mother.</p> + +<p>Pah! She had thrust him from her presence in disgust.</p> + +<p>But hundreds of others had been at her feet, not only rich and handsome, +but also good and true-hearted men. And she had loved none of them.</p> + +<p>Her hour had at last struck. She had gone to Baden-Baden....</p> + +<p>There she had met Doctor Friedrich Reimann, private physician of Prince +Sugatscheff, and she had learned to love him as he loved her.</p> + +<p>And then she had lost him—by her own fault, as her heart had told her +many a time....</p> + +<p>She had never been able to make reparation, for he had disappeared +immediately after that fatal hour, and though she had tried to find him, +she had never been able to do so.</p> + +<p>And she had smiled, jested, and ruled over her intimates as before. But +her heart was no longer empty, it was filled with a bitter repentance.</p> + +<p>She had borne it for a long time, but at last the life she was leading +had become utterly distasteful to her.</p> + +<p>She had then returned home, in the hope of forgetting what had happened, +or, at any rate, of finding relief in no longer being obliged to wear a +mask of happiness.</p> + +<p>There she had found the man for whom she had sought. She had found him +under circumstances she could not understand. But what did that matter? +No one could prevent her marrying whom she would....</p> + +<p>She longed to repair the wrong she had once done. She longed to be +happy, and to make her lover happy....</p> + +<p>For the first time in the long hours in which she had been sitting alone +in the summer-house she smiled, and it was a smile of hope and love....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A breath of spring penetrated even the dark labyrinth of the Jewish town +on that day, making the anxious forget their anxieties, and the sick +their sufferings. The bright warm sunshine spread hope and joy around. +Bocher David found nearly all of his patients better and more cheerful. +He talked longer than usual with each of them, and promised almost +solemnly to see them next day.</p> + +<p>After that he went to the castle. The fat porter told him that the Frau +Gräfin was waiting for him in the summer-house in the park. He went +there, and entered with his usual expression of gentle gravity.</p> + +<p>She hastened to meet him, and putting her hand in his, said:</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Friedrich! Thank you for coming. I have looked forward to +this day, and have hoped so much from it. All will be well now."</p> + +<p>She paused, as though expecting him to speak.</p> + +<p>"I have come, Frau Gräfin," he answered, gravely and quietly, "because +you entreated me to do so. And, as circumstances have brought us +together again so strangely, I owe you an explanation regarding my dress +and my former life. You have a right to it...."</p> + +<p>Her eyes filled with tears when she heard him speak so coldly and +gravely.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Friedrich," she exclaimed; "you are cruel. You are angry with +me, and you have just cause for anger. But I have suffered so terribly +ever since the day when I wrote that dreadful letter.... Forgive me for +the sake of my sorrow and repentance! Oh, forgive me, and don't look at +me so sternly!"</p> + +<p>"I forgave you long ago," he said, more gently.</p> + +<p>"I told you so before. But you want to do what is impossible. You want +to waken the dead, and to strike moments out of our life that are +imperishable, because they are too deeply engraved on our memories ever +to be forgotten. I know and can understand how you have suffered," he +continued, his voice trembling, "because I can compare your feelings +with my own. And now, that you may be spared more pain, and may not form +hopes that can never be fulfilled, I entreat you to listen to me, +although you asked me to come here to listen to you...."</p> + +<p>When he began to speak she had raised her clasped hands in mute appeal +to his compassion, but now she let them fall listlessly to her side, and +sighed deeply. She then resumed her seat, and motioned to him to take a +chair opposite. He sat down, and went on firmly and decidedly:</p> + +<p>"I was born at Barnow, and am the son of the late rabbi. The people +there were very kind to me in their own way after my father's death, but +I was ungrateful, and mistook their meaning. I left the place after my +mother died. I can still remember the dismal, misty autumn morning when +I ran away as distinctly as if it were yesterday. I had no money, but +Jews are always kind and charitable to the poor. I traveled through +Galicia and Poland, remaining sometimes for a few weeks with a rabbi, +who was good enough to take me as a pupil; but none of the teaching I +received entirely satisfied me. I went on farther. In course of time I +reached Wilna, where Rabbi Naphtali, the celebrated Cabalist, has a +school. Under his guidance I learned to know the 'Cabala'—that strange, +deep, mysterious book, containing the profoundest wisdom and religious +teaching of our people. I threw myself into its study with the utmost +enthusiasm. That was my misfortune, if you like to call it so. I went +through that time of doubt when all dogmatic religion appears to be +glaringly false—a time which no young man who thinks at all about these +subjects can fail to pass through, and during which he boldly and +determinately endeavors to grasp the inconceivable.</p> + +<p>"My knowledge appeared small and narrow. I strove to make it both wider +and higher. The German people, with their great poets and thinkers, were +irresistibly attractive to me. I studied their language carefully; and +by dint of teaching, and exercising an economy that was almost miserly, +I at last succeeded in making enough money to go to Germany. I set out +at a most fortunate moment for myself, for it chanced that I made the +acquaintance of old Prince Sugatscheff at a small town on the borders of +Lithuania. He was of the truest nobility: he was a noble-minded man. +Prince Alexius, whom you met at Baden-Baden, was his son, Frau Gräfin."</p> + +<p>"I remember," she answered, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Well," he continued, "the young Polish Jew, who knew Lessing, and +delighted in Schiller's poetry, awakened his sympathy. He gave me the +means of studying. The ancient world was now revealed to me in the books +to which I had access at college. I saw it in all its cheerful +light-heartedness, and also in its thoughtfulness and depth. But that +was not the kind of knowledge for which I thirsted. I then made natural +science my principal study. My researches were all confined to the realm +of matter. At length the need of leading a practically active life grew +more and more apparent to me. The fire of youth had begun to smolder; I +gave up trying to raise the veil of Isis, and endeavoring to discover +the reason of every natural phenomenon. I became a doctor, and I can now +say that I made a reputation for skill in my profession. I had changed +my name. David Blum would have had many stumbling-blocks and +disagreeables in his path that Friedrich Reimann was spared. I did not +change my religion with my name—from habit, if you like—for I was +indifferent to every form of dogmatic religion.</p> + +<p>"My practice increased, and I became one of the first physicians in the +northern seaport town where I had settled. Then old Prince Sugatscheff +was taken ill in Paris, and sent for me. It was his last illness. Before +his death, he entreated me to be a faithful friend to his young son, and +to accompany him everywhere as his private physician until I thought him +capable of taking care of himself, and of withstanding the temptations +of the great world. I gave him the promise that destroyed my own career; +but he was the only man who had felt a real friendship for me, and he +was the only one whom I loved next to my mother.</p> + +<p>"I discovered the whole responsibility and painfulness of my position +very soon after his death. Prince Alexius was a light-minded and +depraved, if not absolutely bad man. I did my duty without caring +whether it made him dislike me or not; he respected me at least. It was +a time of great anxiety and trouble; one thing alone sustained me, and +that was the consciousness of having done my duty. Then we went to +Baden-Baden, where I made your acquaintance, Frau Gräfin...."</p> + +<p>She had until now listened to him with bent head, but at these words she +fixed her eyes upon his face, as though awaiting a sentence of life or +death. And he continued, with a slight quiver in his voice:</p> + +<p>"I will not attempt to recall the events of that happy time to your +memory. I loved you with all my heart and soul, and I know that you +loved me. If it is any comfort to you to know it, let me tell you that I +never doubted your love for me, even at the moment when you wounded me +most deeply. But there is one thing I ought to tell you, and that is why +I did not then inform you of all that you now know. I did not conceal it +from any false shame about my past or my religion, but simply because I +never thought of it. You were my first love, and my sad restless heart +found rest and happiness in you. I shall always be grateful to you for +that short time of unalloyed happiness. First love knows nothing of the +past, and does not look forward to the future. The German poet was right +when he wrote, 'First love does not know that it must die, as a child +does not know what death is, although it may often hear of it.' My love +was so great that I did not guess that your love might change when you +learned that a Jewish mother had borne me, and that I had been a poor +Talmudist. It was not because you were the Gräfin Jadwiga Bortynska that +I loved you, but because you were you—a noble high-minded woman, whose +heart beat in response to mine. I could never have felt a different kind +of love than this, for the experience of life had made me grave and +proud. What separates us now, and must separate us for ever, is that you +were not what I thought you, that you could not rise above the +prejudices of your station—it is that, and that alone....</p> + +<p>"I did not just come to this conviction," he went on, his voice once +more sounding clear and full, "during the long years that have passed +since we parted; I felt it even in that dark hour when I read the letter +in which you wrote, 'If you are really a Jew, if rumor tells the truth +about your past life, all is over between us now and for ever.' Even +then I knew that the breach was irreparable, and that our love was a +blunder; so I did not do as another in my position might have done, I +did not try to appeal to what little love for me might still remain in +your heart—I went away.</p> + +<p>"I went away to France, to England, and from there to America. But I +carried my sorrow with me wherever I went. I suffered much, and had a +hard struggle before I could think of all that had happened with less +pain; for you had been the sunshine and spring of my life; and when my +faith in you was destroyed, it seemed as if faith in everything else +must go with it. But in time I conquered that feeling. When my suffering +was worst to bear, I devoted my life to the care of the sick and +wretched; for it had changed me. In the old days I had worked for name +and fame, and from an intense love of knowledge. Pride and self-seeking +had induced me to put out all my powers to get on in the world, but my +own sorrow taught me to feel for others, and to determine that +henceforth my life should be spent in strengthening and upholding my +brother men, as far as in me lay. I was tired, dreadfully tired, when +the battle was over. I can not bend under the blast of misfortune, but +am broken by it. It is my nature; I can not help it. Where could I work +better than at home? So I came back to Barnow, to the people who had +been kind to me in my childhood, and to the graves of my parents.... I +returned to a faith in a God of love and mercy, and worship Him in the +religious forms I have been accustomed to since my infancy. It was not +repentance that brought this about, for I had not been a sinner. It was +not any desire to propitiate the Deity, for I feel neither hope nor +desire of any kind. It was an unspeakably deep, an unspeakably anxious +longing for a firm support to which I could cling in the darkness, +sorrow, and confusion in which I was plunged.... I learned to love my +people again—my poor, despised, persecuted people—and, in order to be +one with them, I resumed their dress. I have not made a name for myself, +as was once my ambition, but have become a poor and simple tender of the +sick; but many people down there in Barnow, both Jew and Christian, have +turned their hearts to God for my sake. Perhaps I might have gained the +fame for which I used to thirst, if I had remained in the rush of life; +but here it is better—I do my work and feel no pain. I have ceased to +ask, as I often did in the bitterness of anger and misery, why all this +should have come upon me, and what I had done to deserve it. I am now at +peace, and am therefore happy: I have learned renunciation!..."</p> + +<p>He was silent. The setting sun cast its light over the lake and the +blossoming trees outside, and it also rested like a glory on the calm +pale face of the speaker.</p> + +<p>After a short pause he continued:</p> + +<p>"I did not know that you were the possessor of my native town until you +arrived at the castle a few weeks ago. I hoped that we should never meet +again: for your sake. I knew that if we did, your pain and repentance +would be reawakened; for you loved me too, though it was with a +different love."</p> + +<p>He ceased speaking. She did not answer. She only sobbed—a low, +shuddering sob, as from a broken heart. He rose to go. Then she once +more approached him, her face deadly pale, and heavy tears falling from +her widely opened eyes.</p> + +<p>"So this is the end," she murmured almost inaudibly. "The end.... I have +found you only to lose you for ever. Friedrich! Friedrich!... it will +kill me...."</p> + +<p>He looked at her compassionately, and then said very gently:</p> + +<p>"You will also gain calmness and peace, and then you will be happier. +You will then understand that I could not have acted otherwise."</p> + +<p>She sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"I am severely punished," she said, with trembling lips. "I must pay for +the weakness of a moment with the misery of a long, long life. But there +is one thing I can not have you do. You must not despise me. I was +induced to write you that letter by the devilish machination of a +wretch, who knew how to make use of the prejudice that my people feel +against yours—a prejudice I learned in my earliest childhood."</p> + +<p>"I thought so," he interrupted her, mildly. "I have felt the effects of +that prejudice sorely. I forgive you all the more easily. But who was +it?"</p> + +<p>"Prince Alexius Sugatscheff," she answered.</p> + +<p>"What! That man!" he exclaimed contemptuously; but immediately forced +back the words he would have uttered, and continued quietly:</p> + +<p>"Thank you for telling me this. It makes it easier for me to forgive +myself for having partly broken my promise to the old prince...."</p> + +<p>It had grown darker in the summer-house now, and the sun had set.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Jadwiga," he said, in a low voice. "Be happy!"—he took her +hand in his—"and never forget that we shall meet again one day."</p> + +<p>She could not speak. She stood in the middle of the room listening, +until the last echo of his footsteps died away, and then fell fainting +on the floor....</p> + +<p>The next day found Baron Starsky as troubled in mind and as thoughtful +as on the previous day. Gräfin Jadwiga had gone away very early in the +morning. Nobody knew where. He was much put out, for in spite of the +curious scene he had witnessed between her and "that beast of a Jew," he +would perhaps—have married her.</p> + +<p>The man against whom his wrath was roused was however at that very +moment lovingly stroking the boyish head of the writer of these pages, +and comforting him in his sorrow. He had just told the boy that he could +be his teacher no longer, for he must now give every moment of his time +to the sick and miserable.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Jewish burial-ground at Barnow is a pretty and quiet place—a place +that brings thoughts of peace and not of terror—especially in summer, +when the blue sky smiles down upon the little field with its fresh green +grass and sweet-scented flowers. A blossoming elder-bush is to be found +close to the crumbling headstone of every grave.</p> + +<p>There is one on the Bocher's grave, as on all of the others. I have +often sat under it and thought of the man who sleeps beneath its shadow. +And whenever I went there I used to read the beautiful and touchingly +simple words upon the headstone, which tell how he had devoted himself +to the help of the helpless and the care of the sick, and how he had, +like a true hero, died at his post....</p> + +<p>He went "home" a year after the interview I have described between him +and Gräfin Jadwiga. Low fever was very prevalent in the "Gasse" that +winter. David saved all he could, and never spared himself in any way. +At last he also took it. He recovered from the fever, but his strength +was so much weakened by it, that he fell into a decline, and faded +slowly but visibly. He never ceased his labors until he was actually +confined to bed. There he lay quietly, and hardly liked people to put +themselves out of the way by nursing him.</p> + +<p>He sent for me a few days before his death, so I went to see him. He +looked pale and ill, and was lying beside the open window, through which +the first breath of spring was penetrating his close room.</p> + +<p>"I am glad that you have come," he said, with a kind smile. "I have +something to say to you before I die...."</p> + +<p>He paused a moment, and then went on:</p> + +<p>"I was very wrong when I spoke to you about vengeance and retribution +for the humiliation we have suffered. I entreat you to forget that, and +always wait and think, in the spirit of the words I then quoted to +you—'Forgive them, for they know not what they do.' I know that a hasty +word is often deeply engraved on a child's mind, so I want you to put +your hand in mine, and promise that you will do this, and will try not +to allow yourself to think such thoughts as those I uttered in my +anger."</p> + +<p>I promised him with passionate tears. Boy as I was, I could not help +feeling the greatness of soul shown by this man, who, even when he was +dying, had time to think of doing good to others.</p> + +<p>"You are crying, foolish child," he said, gently. "You should not do +so. Have I not often been face to face with death before? And, believe +me, death is not terrible—he comes as a friend and comforter to man. It +is true that I should have liked to have lived a little longer, and to +have gone on with the work I had undertaken; but God, who rules our +lives, has willed that it should not be so. His will be done!..."</p> + +<p>He pushed my hair back from my forehead, and placing his hand on my head +in blessing, added:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, my child! good-by! and ... may you be happier than your +teacher!"</p> + +<p>The last words were said so low that I could scarcely hear them.</p> + +<p>One beautiful bright spring morning his attendant found him dead, with a +smile upon his lips.</p> + +<p>Gräfin Jadwiga is still alive, and is still a beautiful woman. Who can +tell whether she is happy, or whether, at the bottom of her heart, there +is not a sad remembrance of the man whom she had really loved after her +own fashion?</p> + +<p>She painted the picture of Christ—that strange product of religious +enthusiasm and human love—in Switzerland during the summer that +succeeded David Blum's death. The art she had once followed as an +amusement now, perhaps, brought her comfort; and the picture also showed +that she had understood the nobility and greatness of the self-sacrifice +made by the Jew for her sake and his own.</p> + +<p>This is the story of the picture of Christ at Barnow. It is strange and +sad, as I said before; but do not blame me for that, for my heart bleeds +when I remember this over-true tale, which must be regarded as one of +the dark riddles of life, and as the doing of that eternal, inscrutable +Power that deals out darkness or light, happiness or misery, to the weak +human heart....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NAMELESS_GRAVES" id="NAMELESS_GRAVES"></a>NAMELESS GRAVES.</h2> + +<h3>(1873.)</h3> + + +<p>The last time that I went there was on a beautiful, still autumn day. +The sunshine was brightening the landscape, and the only sound to be +heard was the faint crackling of the withered leaves on the bushes by +the wayside. I followed the winding path that ran through the fields and +gardens. I was alone, but I knew the place so well that I did not need +to ask my way; for I always go there when I revisit my old home, and +every year I become more attached to it. Every year the number of +acquaintances to whom it leads me grows more numerous; indeed, the day +will soon come when none of them will be found in the little town, for +all will be there....</p> + +<p>It was the "good place" to which I was going; and as this is the only +place to which neither the Pole's whip nor the covetous hand of the +wonder-working rabbi can reach, the name is a good one. Here each poor +soul is freed from the double ban—and who can count its victims?—that +ground him down, and stifled the good that was in him. He is delivered +alike from outward humiliation and from the dark night of ignorance. +None of these people could have been called really happy until they +died. Then, it is true, they know nothing about it, but they feel that +it must be so even while they are alive; so they have given their +burial-ground the beautiful name of the "good place," and take care to +make it as fair to look upon as they can. It never occurs to the Eastern +Jews to plant trees or sow annuals there; but the fresh green grass is +allowed to cover the graves, and blossoming elders grow by every +headstone. Their burial-ground was the only bit of land these people +were allowed to possess until a few years ago!...</p> + +<p>The "good place" at Barnow is as sweet a spot as is to be found +anywhere. I have already described what it was like in late spring when +the elders were in blossom, filling the air with a perfume that was +almost too powerful, and when the red and purple berries were beginning +to show among the leaves. In autumn the bushes are shorn of much of +their former beauty, but they are pleasant to look at even then in their +own way. The air in September is so wonderfully clear and bright, and +the autumnal tints are so vivid, that they lend the somewhat +uninteresting landscape a beauty of their own. The moor is never a +cheerful place, and it looks more calm and solemn than ever in autumn; +but not <i>triste</i>—the heather glows with too deep a red, and the foliage +of the limes fades into too soft a yellow for that. Here and there a +pond may be seen with its dark, clear waters. Any one going to the +burial-ground through country such as this, can not fail, I think, to be +impressed with its quiet beauty. But perhaps I am not a good judge of +that; perhaps one must have been born in a moorland country to be able +to appreciate it....</p> + +<p>The "good place" lies on a hill, from which one has an extensive view on +all sides. From thence one can see ten ponds, hard by which some +villages are situated, whose houses, roofed with brown thatch, resemble +collections of bee-hives; and finally, at the foot of the hill is the +town, which has a very respectable appearance from there, although, in +reality, it is neither more nor less than a wretchedly dirty hole. One +is able to breathe more freely when enjoying such an extensive view, +such a wide horizon-line. For to east, north, and south the only limit +is the sky, and on gray days the same is the case to the west. But when +the air is clear and bright, one can see what looks like a +curiously-shaped blue-gray bank of cloud on the western horizon. On +seeing it for the first time one is inclined to believe that a storm is +brewing there. But the cloud neither increases nor decreases in size, +and though its outline may seem to shift now and then, it stands fast +for ever—it is the Carpathian range of mountains....</p> + +<p>But it is beautiful close to where one is standing also. It is true that +the queer, twisted branches of the elders are now leafless and bare of +blossom and fruit, but they are interlaced with a delicate network of +spiders' webs that tremble and glow with prismatic colors in the +sunlight. Their deep-red leaves cover the graves, and between the +hillocks are flowering asters. The graves are well cared for; the Jewish +people have a great reverence for the majesty of Death.</p> + +<p>To the Jews, Death is a mighty and somewhat stern ruler, who is kindly +disposed to poor humanity, and draws them to him in mercy. These people +do not like to die, but death is easier and pleasanter to them than to +others, for their belief in immortality is more absolute than that of +any other nation. This belief is not merely founded on self-love, but on +love to God. Is not God all-just? and where would be His justice if He +did not requite them in the other world for all the misery heaped upon +them while they lived on earth? And yet they cling to this earth, and +regard all the blessedness of heaven as a state of transition, a +preparation and foretaste of the fuller blessedness of earth after the +coming of the Messiah. It is therefore serving God to bury the dead. It +is therefore serving God to tend the graves of those who are gone. Even +the oldest and most weather-beaten gravestone is propped up and steadied +by some great-grandson, or perhaps one who was no blood relation of the +deceased, and who was only moved to do it because the sleeper had once +been a man like himself who had felt the joys and sorrows of humanity. +He was a Jew, and he should find his resting-place in order when the +trumpet should sound. Some people may look upon this belief as +ludicrous, but I could never feel it so....</p> + +<p>One's heart and mind are full of many thoughts as one wanders up the +hill between the rows of graves. I do not mean those eternal questions +which one generation inherits as a legacy of torment from those that +have preceded it, and to which only fools suppose they can give an +adequate answer. Verily, we all hope for such an answer, for we are all +fools, poor fools, with an eternal bandage covering our eyes, and an +eternal thirst for knowledge filling our spirits. But why touch +unnecessarily on such deep subjects? I mean questions of a different +kind from these. Whoever, for example, walks through that part of the +cemetery where the hill slopes down gently to the plain below, near the +river, can not help thinking of the evil consequences of two Polish +nobles determining to show themselves humane at the same time. On four +hundred headstones the same year is chiseled as the date of death—the +same year, the same day, the same hour—it is an unspeakable history. +Wet? no! drowned in blood and tears! And it all came from a +contemporaneous desire for the exercise of the virtue of humanity! +During the time that the Polish kings had power in the land, the +Jagellons protected the Jews, who paid them tribute in return. But as +the royal authority became of less and less account—still existent, +more because it refused to die than because any remnant of power +remained to it—the Waywodes, and in the flat land the Starosts, +snatched at the chance of taking the Jews under their protection; they +were one and all so filled to overflowing with the milk of human +kindness. A large and rich Jewish community lived in Barnow, so it was +regarded as doing God good service to take care of so great a number of +men who were capable of paying considerable taxes with ease. Two +Starosts—those of Tulste and of Old Barnow—drew up in battle array, +one at each side of the town, and each sent a message to the following +effect to the Jewish community: "If you do not choose me as your +protector, I shall at once put you and your possessions to fire and +sword." The unfortunate Jews had not much time granted them in which to +deliberate; they quickly gathered together all the ready money that they +could, and bought the protection of both. This conduct brought down +further misfortunes upon the poor people. The Starosts were both +philanthropists, and both wished to fulfill the duty they had +undertaken. Neither trusted the other with a work of such importance, +and each determined to put his rival to the proof; so the Starost of Old +Barnow began to murder and plunder the Jews at one end of the town, and +then waited to see whether the other would do his duty and protect his +<i>protégés</i>. But, unfortunately, his rival was equally determined to try +the worth of his promises, and had been doing exactly the same at the +other end. Thus neither gained his object. Good men seldom attain what +they strive for! The terrible carnage lasted for three days and three +nights....</p> + +<p>The mild autumn sunshine falls as softly on the graves of these murdered +people as elsewhere, and the asters are larger and more perfect between +these closely massed hillocks; the grasshoppers chirp merrily in the +grass and moss that cover them, and the autumn threads spun by the busy +spider wave to and fro in the gentle breeze. Peace and quiet reign here +also—a peace as restful as in any other part of the "good place;" and +yet it seems to me as though a sudden cry must arise from these graves, +as though a piercing, agonized cry must break the stillness of all +around; and that cry would not be one of mourning, but of accusation, +and not alone of the Starosts of Tulste and Old Barnow....</p> + +<p>There are many other graves besides these that bear the same date ... +those, for instance, that were filled in the days when a Czartoryski +hunted the Jews because there was so little game left in the +neighborhood. And then, again, in this very century, in those three +terrible summers when the wrath of God—the cholera—raged throughout +the great plain. Grass makes more resistance against the scythe than +these people did, in their narrow pestiferous streets, against the great +plague. The graves are innumerable, and the field in which they lie is a +very large one; but the community now living in Barnow is much smaller +than one would think on seeing the cemetery. But the very poorest +creature who is given a resting-place and headstone there, has it in +perpetuity; none will disturb his rest until, as they say, the last +trumpet sounds....</p> + +<p>The headstone on every grave is of the same shape. No eccentric +monumental tablets are to be seen, and no artistically carved figure is +represented on any of the gravestones—the Jewish faith forbids all such +adornments. The only difference in these stones lies in the fact that +those of the poor are small, and those of the rich large; that the +inscription on the poor man's headstone shows him to have been an honest +man, and that on the rich man's makes him out to have been the noblest +man who ever lived—that is all; for even the arrangement of the +inscription is strictly ordained in the Talmodim. The insignia of the +tribe is put first, then the name of the deceased, followed by those of +his parents, and after that his occupation in life. Sometimes this last +is passed over in silence, for "usurer" or "informer" would not look +well upon a tomb, to say nothing of worse things. In such cases the +friends content themselves with putting, "He was indefatigable in the +study of his religion, and loved his children"—and, as a rule, this was +true.</p> + +<p>Whoever reads these inscriptions will see that he need go no further in +search of the island of the blessed, or of the garden of Eden, where +angels walk about in human form—that is to say, if he believes the +inscriptions. The Semitic race goes further in showing reverence for the +dead than any other. The Romans contented themselves with "<i>De mortuis +nil nisi bonum</i>." They demanded that the dead should be spoken of with +kindness and respect, maintaining that such conduct was only seemly in +face of the majesty of death and the helplessness of the dead. The +Semites go further than this: they exact that only good should be spoken +of the dead. And if any man is so terrible a sinner that no good is to +be found in him, they keep silence regarding him....</p> + +<p>They keep silence. The worst anathema known to this people is, "His name +shall be blotted out." And so in such cases they do not inscribe his +name upon his headstone. There is many a nameless grave in Podolian +burial-grounds. This is meant as a punishment, as a requital of the evil +the man had done while on earth.</p> + +<p>And, again, it is meant in mercy: for on the day when the kingdom of God +shall come, the heavenly trumpets can not alone waken the sleepers; the +angel of eternal life is to do that. He will go from stone to stone, and +call the dead by the name inscribed on the headstone—the righteous to +unspeakable blessedness, and the wicked to unspeakable punishment. If no +name is carved upon the stone, he will perhaps pass on without arousing +the sleeper. Perhaps!—all hope that it may be so, in mercy to the +sinner!...</p> + +<p>There are many nameless graves in the "good place" at Barnow, and in +some cases the punishment may have been well deserved. It is often the +hardest that has reached the criminal. The black deed has been done, and +the darkness of the Ghetto hid the crime. The Podolian Jews fear the +world, and a Christian is supreme in the imperial court of justice. They +do not like to deliver their sinful brother into the hands of an alien. +They punish him themselves as they best can: he must spend much money on +good objects, or make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, or fast every second +day for years. His crime is hidden as long as he lives, and it is only +after his death that it is discovered.</p> + +<p>Some very curious things are also looked upon as crimes, and punished in +the same way. Whoever hears of such can hardly help asking a very bitter +question—a very ancient and grimly bitter question, that can never die +out as long as the human race continues to exist on the face of the +earth....</p> + +<p>For example, an old beggar once formed part of the Jewish community at +Barnow—a discharged soldier who had been crippled in the wars. No one +did anything for him. The Christians would not help him because he was a +Jew, and the Jews would not do it because he had eaten Christian food +for so long, and because he was in the habit of swearing most +blasphemously. Perhaps neither of these sins was entirely his own fault: +for no army in the world has ever put its commissariat under the charge +of a rabbi since the Maccabees fell asleep; and as for profane swearing, +it may be as much part and parcel of an old soldier as an acorn is of an +oak. But, however that may be, his co-religionists took both of these +circumstances in very bad part, and provided him with nothing but daily +lumps of black bread, and on Friday afternoons with seven kreutzers. +Even an old beggar could not live properly in Barnow on so small an +allowance, and the poor old man suffered frequently from the pangs of +hunger. So when the Day of Atonement came round again—the strictest +fast-day in the whole year—he found no pleasure in abstaining from +food, for hunger was no unusual feeling with him. He was discovered on +that day behind a pillar of the bridge with a bit of sausage in his +hand. He was not ill-treated, nor was his allowance diminished: and yet +fate would have been kind to him had he died in that hour: for were I to +relate all that happened to the old man, I think that the hardest heart +could not fail to be touched. But fate is seldom kind: he lived for many +years. When he died, his rich relations put a headstone on his grave, +but left it blank. But I think—I think, that the dead soldier is not +nearly so much pained by this, as he was by much that they did to him +when he was alive....</p> + +<p>Close to the old soldier sleeps a man who met with a like fate. A very +strange man he was—Chaim Lippener by name, and by trade a shoemaker. +People who follow that trade have often a great liking for philosophical +speculation, perhaps because of the sedentary life they lead. Our Chaim +was also a philosopher after his own fashion. He never rose above the +basis of all investigation—doubt; and his favorite expression was, "Who +knows the truth?" As the pale little man felt himself unable to answer +the question by means of speculation, he determined to try whether +experience could not help him. He went from one sect to the other—from +the "Chassidim," or enthusiasts, to the "Misnagdim," who were zealous +for the Scriptures; then he joined the former again, and afterward went +over to the "Karaits." Then he took refuge under the banner of the +wonder-working rabbi of Sadagóra, after which he remained among the +"Aschkenasim"—those are in favor of German culture—for a year, and +finally became a Cabalist. This he was for a long time; and as his boots +and shoes were good and well-made, people troubled themselves very +little about his midnight studies and his profoundly mystical talk. But +one cold, white moonlight night, when some men who had remained until an +unusually late hour at the wine-shop were returning home, they found a +man kneeling motionlessly in the snow at the foot of the great crucifix +at the Dominican monastery, his arms stretched out as though to embrace +the Christ. They stood still and gazed at the unwonted sight in +astonishment, but their surprise was changed into horror when they saw +that the solitary worshiper was none other than Chaim. They drew nearer, +but he did not hear their footsteps. Suddenly he began to speak aloud, +and in a sobbing, tremulous voice uttered a prayer in the holy language: +it was the blessing which is prescribed to the traveler when he sees the +sun rise as he journeys along. The listeners were at once filled with +pious wrath; they threw themselves upon the little man, beat him +unmercifully, and chased him home. Next morning there was great +excitement in the "Gasse;" even the most indifferent went up to the +synagogue to pray, partly from religious motives, to entreat God not to +avenge the sin of the individual upon the community—and partly from +curiosity, for every one wanted to know what penance the rabbi and the +council would impose upon the sinner. The congregation did not disperse +as usual after the conclusion of the service. The council took their +plans. But the culprit was not there, for the excitement and the beating +he had undergone had proved too much for his feeble strength—he had +fallen ill. As his presence was necessary, some men were sent to fetch +him. They brought him on a mattress. A great clamor arose as he was +borne up the aisle, and all those who stood near relieved their hearts +by spitting upon him. Then the rabbi commanded silence, and began a long +speech, in which the place where eternal darkness and eternal cold +reign, the place to which the wicked are relegated after death, took a +prominent part. Having thus spoken, he turned to the accused and asked +him what he had to say in his own favor. But whether it was that the +sick man could not speak, or that he had nothing to say, none can +tell—he remained silent, and only shook his head. This conduct +increased the general indignation; the rabbi made a solemn remonstrance, +and the others spat upon the offender. At length the little man raised +himself upon his pillows, looked at the zealots with quiet earnestness, +and began to speak. The words he uttered were few, and consisted merely +of his favorite question, "Who knows the truth?" The scene that +followed may easily be imagined. Those men who were not carried away by +fanatical zeal, protected Chaim with their own bodies: had they not done +so, his offense had been washed out in his blood then and there. At +last, quiet being restored, the rabbi was able to pronounce judgment. I +do not remember what the fine imposed on Chaim Lippener amounted to; but +so much I know, that he had to leave wife and child, and set out on a +pilgrimage to Jerusalem, from whence he was never to return. He was +commanded to tell every community he passed on the way what he had done, +and to request them to kick him and spit upon him.</p> + +<p>He was never able to set out on his pilgrimage, for he fell into a +decline, and faded away like snow before the sun. He prayed so much +during the last months of his illness, that every one was convinced that +he was converted, and had turned from the error of his ways. I am the +only person who knew better; and as it can no longer injure Chaim to +tell the truth, I will now do so.</p> + +<p>When I came home for the holidays in July, his wife came and asked me to +go and see him, but begged that it might be in the evening, that no one +might notice it. I did so. The sick man was very weak, but he had an +immense folio volume resting on his knees, in which he was reading +eagerly. After making long and rather confused excuses for the trouble +he had given me, he said that he wanted to know whether it was true that +the Christians had Holy Scriptures as well as the Jews. When I told him +that they had, he begged me to try and get him the book. This request +affected me curiously, almost painfully; but it was the wish of a dying +man, and—"Who knows the truth?" I found some difficulty in fulfilling +my promise, for Chaim could only read Hebrew. I sent to Vienna for a +translation the English Bible Society had made for mission purposes in +Palestine. The book was a fortnight in coming, and when it arrived I +could not give it to the man; but it did not matter, for he probably +knew more then, than he could have learned from that book and all the +books in the world....</p> + +<p>Ah yes! these were strange, very strange, crimes. On that autumn day, as +I stood beside the two graves, I felt inclined to stoop down and say to +the dead: "Forgive your poor brothers; do not be angry with them, for +they know not what they do!..."</p> + +<p>What a peculiar history the Jews have had! Their strong religion, +founded on a rock, was once a protection to them, and saved them from +the axes and clubs of their enemies. They would have been destroyed +without that protection, for the blows aimed at them were heavy and hard +to parry; and for that very reason, they clung to it the more +tenaciously, until at last, instead of enlightening their hearts, they +made of it a bandage for their eyes. They were not so much to be pitied +for this long ago, for then all the world went about with their eyes +bandaged. But now, when the light of day is shining in the West, and the +dawn has at last broken in the East, they have not raised the bandage +one inch. I do not want them to do it too quickly, nor do I want them to +throw away their faith; I only desire that they should open their eyes +to the light which is shining more and more around them....</p> + +<p>It must be so; and it will be so. Necessity is the only divinity in +which one can believe without doubting or despairing.</p> + +<p>Light will come to them; but no one can tell how long the light will +last, or count the victims it will destroy.</p> + +<p>It is only by accident one hears of them. The living are silent, and the +graves are silent, especially those that are nameless. The history of +those nameless graves may be shown by a mark of interrogation, hard but +not impossible to decipher.</p> + +<p>My curiosity was excited by the last of those blank headstones set up +in the cemetery at Barnow. I found it the last time I went there on the +beautiful September afternoon I have before described.</p> + +<p>It was a solitary grave standing apart from the rest. It lay in the +hollow near the river, and close to the broken hedge. This in itself was +strange, for the dead are generally buried next to each other as their +turn comes to die. A family seldom has a plot of ground set apart for +itself—very seldom; for all who sleep here are members of the same +family.</p> + +<p>An exception had been made with regard to this grave. Not another +headstone was to be seen far and wide; but to the right and left of it, +as close to it as possible, were two other graves—small graves, +unmarked by aught save the tiny hillocks they made. So small were they, +that one could scarcely see them under their covering of juniper-bushes +and red heather.</p> + +<p>It was easy to guess who slept there: little boys who had died before +they were eight days old, before they had been given a name; and she who +lay between them must have been their mother, for the headstone was that +of a woman—one could tell that from its shape.</p> + +<p>Hitherto men alone had been given nameless graves, because they alone +commit crimes, whether real or imaginary. The Jewish woman is good and +pious. It was the first woman's grave I had ever seen with a blank +headstone.</p> + +<p>What had she done?</p> + +<p>I puzzled long in the calm sunny stillness of that autumn day. I made up +one story after another, each more extraordinary than the preceding one, +to account for it; but again I was to learn that truth is often stranger +than fiction.</p> + +<p>As I sat thinking on the grave, looking from me, and hardly seeing the +rainbow tints that the clouds of dancing insects took in the clear air +whenever a ray of sunshine touched their wings, I suddenly heard the +monotonous drawling sound of mournful voices, and looking up, saw two +old men advancing toward me along the hedgerow.</p> + +<p>They were busied in the exercise of a pious rite that I had not seen for +so long, that, now that I saw it again, it struck me as it would have +struck a stranger. Each of the men was carrying a short yellow wooden +stick in his right hand, and round each of the sticks a thread was wound +closely and thickly, uniting them to each other; for one end of the +thread was wound round one stick, and the other end was wound round the +other stick. Whenever the men stood still, they held the two sticks +close together, and sang their strange duet in mournful unison. Then one +of them ceased singing, held his stick perpendicularly, and stood as +though rooted to the spot; while the other walked on slowly and gravely +by the side of the hedge, singing in high nasal tones, and unwinding the +thread as he went, in such a manner as to keep it straight and tight. +After having gone about thirty paces, he stood still and silent. The +other, meanwhile, began to advance toward him, singing in his turn, and +winding up the thread, so that the ball on the one stick grew larger and +larger, while that on the other stick grew smaller. Thus there were +alternately one duet and two solos.</p> + +<p>This is called "measuring the boundaries;" and although it is only done +after this fashion in some of the Podolian cemeteries, it is yet done in +some way or other wherever the Jews are to be found. On the anniversary +of the day on which a near and dear relation has deceased, it is the +custom to measure the borders of the burial-ground in which he rests +with a thread, that is afterward used for some pious purpose, such as to +form the wick of candles offered in sacrifice, or to sew a +prayer-mantle. The custom is the outcome of a sad gloomy symbolism, but +it would take up too much room were I to attempt to explain it.</p> + +<p>I watched the men for a time, and then went up to them, and asked whose +was the grave that had interested me.</p> + +<p>They looked at me mistrustfully.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?" one of them at length answered, with hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Because I want to know."</p> + +<p>"And why do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>A direct answer would have been too long, so I made him an indirect and +shorter reply.</p> + +<p>One of the two worthy but extremely dirty old men—so dirty that one +looked at them in wonder—had a very red nose—a circumstance from which +one might infer that he was subject to constant thirst, and was of a +cheerful disposition. It is always easy to make one's self understood by +a person of that kind.</p> + +<p>I looked at the man smilingly, as though he were an old friend, and at +the same time put my hand in my pocket.... "Well—who is it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He watched my movements with visible interest, but did not give way as +yet.</p> + +<p>"Isn't the name engraved upon the stone?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I should not have asked you what it was if it had been there."</p> + +<p>"Why isn't it there?"</p> + +<p>My hand came out of my pocket, but the old man was not yet gained over.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he repeated; "because it is a sin even to think of the name of +her who lies there! Why should I sin by telling you what it is? why +should you sin by listening to it? why should Reb Nathan here sin by +listening to us both?"</p> + +<p>"Money spent on the poor will wash out the sin," I replied calmly, +pressing something into the old man's hand.</p> + +<p>But the venerable gentleman was evidently very particular about any +matter that might affect the salvation of his soul, so he counted the +silver I had given him in a whisper, as if to make sure that I had given +him enough. His face now expressed satisfaction; but Reb Nathan, in his +turn, began to feel uneasy. He might easily have gone away, and so +escaped the sin of listening; but instead of that, he chose another +course of action, although he had not a red nose.</p> + +<p>When these preliminaries were all settled, the first said, "Whose grave +is that?" and the other answered, "Lea Rendar's." Which, being +interpreted, means, "Lea, the daughter of the innkeeper, lies there." +But I still looked inquiringly at the two men.</p> + +<p>"Every one knew her!" they exclaimed, in astonishment. "Lea of the +yellow Karezma (inn); the wife of Long Ruben, who lives near the +town-hall; Lea with the long hair."</p> + +<p>I knew now whom they meant, and my curiosity was turned into an anxious +interest.</p> + +<p>"What! she was a sinner?" I cried, in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Was she a sinner?" exclaimed Reb Abraham, the red-nosed man. "Could +there have been a greater than she? No: there never was a greater! She +trod the law under her feet! And who will be damned for it? She and her +husband—Ruben of the town-hall! For had he not permitted it, the +transgression had never been perpetrated."</p> + +<p>"Another person will also be damned for her sin," cried Reb +Nathan—"Gawriel Rendar, her father; for if he had brought her up +differently, she would never have committed such a trespass against the +law."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, of course," assented Abraham. Then, seized with a sudden +revulsion of feeling, he pitied the man in whose house his nose had +gained its rosy hue, and added more gently: "Perhaps the Almighty may +forgive Gawriel after all. How could the poor father ever have guessed +that she would do such a horrible thing? None of Jewish birth could ever +have thought it! But as for Ruben—that's different; he is certainly +condemned!"</p> + +<p>"Was the crime really so terrible?"</p> + +<p>"Terrible, did you say?—most abominable! Didn't you hear of it? An +extraordinary story!—a most remarkable and unheard-of story!"</p> + +<p>They then told me this "remarkable and unheard-of story." And truly it +deserved the adjectives they applied to it, although in a different +sense from that in which they used them.</p> + +<p>I can hardly describe my feelings as I write down what I then heard. In +the first place, the whole affair sounds so incredible. Only those few +people in the West who have a slight knowledge of this ignorant +fanatical Eastern Judaism, will be able to comprehend that such things +can really be. All others will shake their heads. I can only say that it +is a true story; I did not invent it: it really took place. Besides +that, the story is a very sad one. It fills one with sorrow when one +thinks of it....</p> + +<p>Lea was a very lovely girl. She did not inherit her beauty from either +of her parents; for her mother was a dumpy, little red-faced woman, and +Gawriel Rendar, landlord of the large yellow inn on the way to Old +Barnow, was an awkward giant with a muddy complexion, and a face much +pitted with small-pox. The two sons, who hung about the house, were by +no means ornamental members of society. In short, they were a +rascally-looking lot, and their chief occupation was to provide bad +spirits for the thirsty, and fling those who had imbibed too much of the +villainous compound they sold out-of-doors in a rough-and-ready manner. +It was in this house and among these people that the loveliest, merriest +child grew up into a gentle modest girl. Lea Bergheimer was more like a +sunbeam than any one I ever knew.</p> + +<p>Her head was crowned with a wealth of shining golden hair. A Jewess is +seldom fair; and when she happens to be so, is, as a general rule, +anything but good-looking. The beautiful women of this race have either +brown or black hair. But Lea was an exception. Indeed, she was not at +all of the Jewish type except in her slender, upright, graceful figure.</p> + +<p>Her face was of the highest Germanic type: small, delicate features, +rosy cheeks, and deep violet eyes. The expression of her face was bright +and intelligent. There is a seventeenth-century picture in one of the +side rooms of the Belvedere at Vienna of a Viennese burgher maiden +painted by an Italian. The original was a German girl, but the artist +has given her face the impress of the "spirit, fire, and dew" that +animate so many Southern natures. That picture might have been a +portrait of Lea, the resemblance to her was so strong.</p> + +<p>The darkest place may be lighted by a sunbeam; so pretty Lea brought +light and joy into the noisy inn. It is scarcely necessary to say how +devoted her parents and brothers were to her, and how in their awkward +way they delighted to do her honor, watching over her and anticipating +her slightest wish in the most touching way. Old Gawriel was well-to-do +in the world, for his spirit-shop stood in a central place, and no +landlord in Podolia understood better than he the art of watering +schnapps, and of doubling the chalked score of any one who went upon +tick. But he spent so much upon Lea, that it was really wonderful that +he was able to lay by anything. He did not have the girl educated—she +learned nothing but what Jewish women in Eastern Europe are taught; but +he used to dress her on week-days as rich men did not dress their +daughters on New-Year's day.</p> + +<p>Her family had unintentionally done their best to make her vain and +coquettish. And other people had done their part; the women through +their jealousy, and the men through their admiration. Lea awakened +feelings in the hearts of the young men of Barnow such as were seldom to +be found there. For, as a general rule, the long-haired Jewish youth +never even thinks of any girl until his father tells him that he has +chosen a wife for him. He sometimes sees his bride for the first time at +his betrothal, but in a great many cases he does not see her until his +marriage-day; and then, whether she pleases him or not, he makes up his +mind to get used to her, and generally succeeds. But many thought of +Lea; and as she walked down the street, people would turn and look at +her—a thing hitherto unknown. Even in the "Klaus," where the quiet, +dreamy, and very dirty Talmudists bent over their heavy folios, her name +was sometimes mentioned, followed by many a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>Beautiful Lea knew nothing of this. But other people took care that she +should not remain in doubt as to whether she pleased them or not. The +school-boys who came home to Barnow for the holidays were all in love +with her and Esterka Regina, another beautiful Jewish girl whose life +was a sad one. Then there were the young nobles, who were in the habit +of stopping at the door of Gawriel's inn for a glass of schnapps and a +little conversation. But the boldest of all were the hussar officers, +who got into the habit of spending hours in the bar-room, without making +any way with the girl.</p> + +<p>Lea was vain, but she was thoroughly good and modest. Jewish women are, +as a rule, kind, charitable, and sympathetic with others; but Lea was +even more so than the generality—so the poor used to bless her and +reverence her. The girl's great weakness was, that she was in love with +her own beauty, and especially with that of her splendid hair. When she +loosened her heavy plaits, her hair used to infold her like a mantle of +cloth-of-gold, descending to her knees—a mantle of which any queen +would have been proud. It was this that gained for her her nickname of +"Lea with the long hair...."</p> + +<p>The Jews of Barnow were firmly convinced that Lea would never marry. The +women hoped and the men feared that it would be so. She grew up, was +seventeen, eighteen, nineteen years old, and yet had never deemed any of +her suitors worthy of her hand. Such a thing was unheard of among the +Podolian Jews, who usually marry at a very early age. But old Gawriel +acted differently from most fathers—he let his daughter decide her own +fate.</p> + +<p>Lea's answer to all her suitors was a short, resolute "No." And after +the day when Josef Purzelbaum was dismissed in like fashion, although he +was the son of the richest man in the whole district—and also little +Chaim Machmirdas, who was nearly connected by marriage with the great +rabbi of Sadagóra—no other suitor ventured to come forward. The +rejection of a member of the holy family of Sadagóra filled every one +with amazement, and many looked upon it as tantamount to blasphemy. But +Lea was not to be moved, and continued to drive the match-makers to +despair. In the end these good people scarcely dared to set foot in the +inn, although there are no quieter and more considerate men in the world +than the Jewish match-makers in Podolia. But one of them, Herr Itzig +Türkischgelb, used to say: "I am an old man, but I have not yet given up +the hope of living to see Lea's marriage and the coming of the Messiah. +But, truly, I think the latter will take place first." Itzig +Türkischgelb always liked his joke.</p> + +<p>At last Lea's engagement was announced. And when the name of the +fortunate suitor was made known, the astonishment of all was even +greater than at the fact of the engagement. For Ruben Rosenmann—or +Ruben of the town-hall, as he was called, because of the position of his +shop—was neither rich nor of a pious family; and besides that he was a +widower. He was a handsome man, tall and dignified, and of a grave and +serious disposition. He was particular about his dress, and wore his +caftan about a span shorter than any one else. He had spent two years in +a large town called Brody, and had learned to read, speak, and write +High German. Perhaps this was the reason that he was looked upon as a +freethinker, which he certainly was not, for he followed all the +commands, not only of religion, but also of superstition, with a slavish +obedience.</p> + +<p>When Lea was asked why she had chosen him of all people, her only answer +was, "Because I like him." It was an unheard-of reason for a Podolian +Jewess to give: so no one believed that it could be the real reason. +Many questions were asked of the match-makers, but they could throw no +light on the subject. Even Türkischgelb had to confess that this +engagement was not brought about by his diplomacy. Ruben had sent him to +Lea; but the girl had refused to listen to him, saying, "Let him come +and speak to me himself if he has anything to say."</p> + +<p>Ruben went to see her. The two young people had a long conversation that +lasted fully two hours. No one, not even the girl's parents, knew what +they had talked about during their interview. But old Gawriel heard +Ruben say in a loud impressive voice: "Very well—if you have set your +heart upon it, I consent. It is not a sin in the sight of God, although +our people regard it as such. Keep your secret carefully; for, were it +discovered, it would cause the destruction of us both." The father +tried in vain to persuade Lea to tell him her secret.</p> + +<p>The marriage took place soon afterward. Lea was lovelier than ever as +she stood under the "trauhimmel." And yet her richest ornament, her +golden hair, was wanting. No married woman is allowed to wear her own +hair, which is always cut short, and sometimes even shaved, before the +wedding. The head is then covered with a high erection made of wool or +silk, called a <i>scheitel</i>. Stern and ancient custom demands this. For a +married woman to wear her own hair, would not merely be regarded as +immodest, but as a terrible sin against God. Lea permitted no one to lay +a finger on her hair, but locking herself into her room, cut it off with +her own hands....</p> + +<p>Contrary to expectation, the marriage was a happy one; and more +wonderful still, Lea was a humble, obedient wife. The most envious could +not deny that Ruben was a lucky fellow. No one knew it better than he +did, and, when he heard that Lea hoped soon to be a mother, his joy knew +no bounds. But, unfortunately, this hope was not fulfilled; the child +was born dead, and before it was expected. The doctor said it was in +consequence of a chill from which Lea had been suffering; but the rabbi +of Barnow was of a different opinion. He sent for Lea, and asked if she +had not broken some commandment in secret, and so brought down upon +herself the judgment of God. Lea turned very pale, but answered firmly, +"No, rabbi."</p> + +<p>This happened in spring. One autumn day, a year and a half afterward, +Lea had a son; but it only lived six days. The doctor said it had died +of apoplexy, like many other new-born babies. Lea wept bitterly; but +when the rabbi came to her and repeated the question he had before asked +her, she again answered shortly and firmly, "No, rabbi."</p> + +<p>In the following summer Lea knew that she was to become a mother for the +third time. She felt oppressed by a foreboding that the same sorrow as +before would come to her. She took every precaution, and Ruben watched +over her anxiously and tenderly. But when the Day of Atonement came +round, she insisted on spending the whole day in the synagogue fasting, +in spite of her husband's remonstrances and the doctor's having +forbidden her to do so.</p> + +<p>That was the cause of her destruction.</p> + +<p>The old synagogue was dreadfully close that day, and worse than close; +it was filled with a most disagreeable and sickening odor of candles, +and of an uncleanly congregation that had spent hours within its walls +praying and weeping. It was an atmosphere in which the strongest person +might have been overcome with faintness; so that its effects on a +delicate woman in Lea's condition may be readily imagined. Her head +began to swim, and, uttering a low cry, she fell from her prayer-stool +in a swoon.</p> + +<p>The women quickly surrounded her, and tried to bring her to herself. +They loosened her dress, and thrust two or three smelling-bottles under +her nose at the same time.</p> + +<p>All at once they started back: a wild shriek from a hundred throats +echoed through the building; it was followed by silence—the silence of +dread....</p> + +<p>Lea's <i>scheitel</i> had become displaced, and her glorious hair, which had +been confined within the <i>scheitel</i>, flowed over her shoulders, and +crowned her pale beautiful face as with a golden halo.</p> + +<p>That was Lea's secret.</p> + +<p>The scene that followed can not be described; an idea of it can hardly +be conveyed to a stranger. The stillness was broken by wild shouts of +rage, curses, and struggling. Quick as lightning the news flew to the +body of the synagogue, where the men were praying; and its effect was +the same there as in the women's part. At first horror and astonishment +produced an intense stillness; then the men seemed filled with an insane +fury, and rushed into the women's "school." Had Lea just confessed that +she had murdered her children—and the Jews regarded infanticide as the +worst of crimes, as even more wicked than parricide—their wrath could +not have been greater. But in the eyes of these ignorant, superstitious +people, Lea's hair had borne silent witness that she was indeed +guilty!...</p> + +<p>It was the holiest day in the year, and she against whom their wrath was +raised was a weak woman, and was, moreover, in a condition that ought to +have pleaded for her with the most savage of men. But who knows how far +pious zeal might not have led these fanatics? It had often before +carried them to incredible lengths. Ruben forced his way through the +ranks of infuriated men, his anger and pain giving him strength to do +so. He lifted his wife like a child, and, supporting her with his left +arm, pushed a way for himself and her through the crowd by a vigorous +use of his right arm. He then rushed down-stairs, and home through the +streets, pursued by the curses of his co-religionists. The October wind +blew his wife's hair sharply in his pale face as he ran, and almost +blinded him.</p> + +<p>Lea soon recovered from her faint; but when she looked round and saw her +hair hanging about her like a cloud, she shrieked out, and fell into +violent convulsions. The doctor hastened to her; but he only succeeded +in saving the life of the mother, not that of the child. Next morning +the Jews of Barnow told each other that the judgment of God had fallen +upon the sinner for the third time.</p> + +<p>Ruben was as though petrified with grief. And when he was summoned +before the rabbi in council that very morning, he obeyed the mandate as +calmly as if he had not been the culprit to be tried. He returned no +answer to the curses that were heaped upon him, and, when put upon his +defense, gave short and bold replies to the questions addressed to him. +He was asked whether he had known of his wife's sin. Yes, he said, he +had. Why had he suffered her to commit such a wickedness? Because it was +not wicked in his eyes. Did he recognize what had now befallen him as a +judgment of God? No; because he believed in an all-wise, all-merciful +God. Would he at least consent to cut off his wife's hair now? No, for +that would be breaking the promise he had made her when they were +engaged. Did he know the punishment he was bringing upon himself by +continuing in his sin? He did, and would know how to bear it.</p> + +<p>This punishment was the "great <i>cherem</i>" or excommunication—the worst +punishment that the community could inflict upon one of its members. +Whoever is thus excluded from the congregation is outlawed by them, and +it is regarded as a good deed to do him as much harm as possible, both +socially and in his business relations. Neither he nor anything that +belonged to him might be touched except in enmity; his presence could +only be permitted with the object of doing him an injury. <i>Cherem</i> +loosens the holiest ties, and what in other cases would be a terrible +sin is, under such circumstances, regarded as a sacred duty—the wife +may forsake her husband, the son may raise his hand against his father. +It is a war of all against one—a merciless war, in which all means of +attack are admissible. No love, no friendship, can venture to break down +the barrier of excommunication, contempt, and loathing that incloses the +culprit. It is a fate too awful to contemplate, a punishment terrible +enough to break the most iron will. He who falls under this ban, +generally hastens to make his peace with the rabbi on any terms, however +humiliating.</p> + +<p>Ruben thought this too high a price to pay, although he felt the curse +of the excommunication doubly, both in his person and his work. No +customers came to his shop. But he did not give way. He turned for +protection to those who were bound to help him, and appealed to the +imperial court of justice in Barnow. It is a punishable offense in +Austria to use the <i>cherem</i> as a means of extortion; and, in the best +case, when there is real and just cause for the infliction of punishment +on an offender, it is nothing but an audacious attempt of a community to +arrogate to itself the functions of the state. The sympathy of Herr +Julko von Negrusz, district judge of Barnow, was aroused by Ruben's +tale, and he did what he could to help him; but naturally he could not +do much. He summoned the rabbi before his court, and punished every +injury or indignity that was put upon Ruben which could be proved +against any one in particular. But in most cases the mischief was done +in the dead of night, and the prosecution of the rabbi only served to +increase the fanatical rage of the people. As for the shop, Herr von +Negrusz had no power to force any one to buy their sugar and coffee from +Ruben if they did not wish to do so.</p> + +<p>The war of parties lasted all winter, and well into the spring. In April +the rabbi was sentenced to six weeks' imprisonment. When he was set +free, the community showed their joy by illuminating the streets and +breaking Ruben's windows; otherwise, nothing was changed—Ruben remained +firm. He was growing visibly poorer. His father-in-law continually +entreated him to give way, but in vain. More than that, Lea, who had +wept away all her youth and beauty during that terrible winter, and who, +now that the spring was come, knew that she was again to become a +mother, entreated her husband to allow her to cut off her hair. Perhaps +the poor woman had been so influenced by the superstition of her +neighbors, that she had really begun to think that it might cause the +death of her child were she to continue to wear it. But Ruben shook his +head sternly, and answered—"No; keep your hair; and if there is a God, +He will not desert us—He will give me the victory."</p> + +<p>In most cases it is a dangerous thing to place one's belief in the +existence of God on the answer to a question such as this. It was so +here: Ruben was conquered. What remains to be told I will relate in as +few words as possible....</p> + +<p>In the following November another son was born to Lea. The child was a +strong, healthy little fellow, and the mother's heart was at rest about +him. Six days passed; then the rabbi summoned his most faithful +adherents to his presence. "The father is under the ban of <i>cherem</i>, and +the mother wears her own hair; but the child is innocent. If we remain +idle, the child must die as his brother died, because the mother +continues to sin."</p> + +<p>This was what the rabbi said—that is to say, it was probably he who +spoke; but the originator of the horrible deed was never discovered. +This was the deed of darkness perpetrated by the zealots.</p> + +<p>About midnight of the sixth day after the baby's birth, some masked men +burst into Ruben's house, overpowered both him and the nurse, dragged +Lea out of bed, and cut off her hair.</p> + +<p>Two days later Lea died in consequence of the fright she had had. The +child, which had taken a fit soon after the men had broken into the +house, died a few hours before its mother.</p> + +<p>Ruben remained at Barnow until the judicial examination was over, +although he hoped but little from it; for when the Jews are determined +to be silent, no power on earth can make them speak.</p> + +<p>Then he went away. Many years have passed away since then. He, probably, +has also found rest, and sleeps away the dark sorrows of his life in +some other corner of the world.</p> + +<p>I have already described Lea's grave, and there is nothing more to be +said.</p> + +<p>I must add a few words in conclusion, that come from the bottom of my +heart:</p> + +<p>Forgive them, be not angry with them, for they know not what they do!</p> + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A kind of biscuit.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> About 1s. 8d. English.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> An Austrian mile is equal to 4.714 English miles.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Head of the office for the assessment of taxes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> I have made use of the word "Fräulein" in order to avoid +the discussion as to "thou" and "you."—<i>Translator's note.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> An Austrian mile is equal to 4.714 English miles.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> About fifteen English miles.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> A little more than two English miles.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Christian_Reids_Novels" id="Christian_Reids_Novels"></a>Christian Reid's Novels.</h2> + + +<p>"The author has wrought with care and with a good ethical and artistic +purpose; and these are the essential needs in the building up of an +American literature."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VALERIE AYLMER.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MORTON HOUSE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MABEL LEE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">EBB-TIDE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NINA'S ATONEMENT, and other Stories.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A DAUGHTER OF BOHEMIA.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BONNY KATE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE LAND OF THE SKY.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">AFTER MANY DAYS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HEARTS AND HANDS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A GENTLE BELLE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A QUESTION OF HONOR.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A SUMMER IDYL. (Forming <span class="smcap">No. XII</span> in Appletons' "New Handy-Volume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Series.") 1 vol.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HEART OF STEEL.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Rhoda_Broughtons_Novels" id="Rhoda_Broughtons_Novels"></a>Rhoda Broughton's Novels.</h2> + +<p>"<i>I love the romances of Miss Broughton; I think them much truer to +Nature than Ouida's, and more impassioned and less preachy than George +Eliot's. Miss Broughton's heroines are living beings, having not only +flesh and blood, but also esprit and soul; in a word, they are real +women, neither animals nor angels, but allied to both.</i>"—<span class="smcap">André Theuriet</span> +(the French novelist).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SECOND THOUGHTS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOAN.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">COMETH UP AS A FLOWER.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NOT WISELY, BUT TOO WELL.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NANCY.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RED AS A ROSE IS SHE.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Julia_Kavanaghs_Works" id="Julia_Kavanaghs_Works"></a>Julia Kavanagh's Works</h2> + +<p>"There is a quiet power in the writings of this gifted author which is +as far removed from the sensational school as any modern novels can be."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">ADELE; a Tale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BEATRICE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">DAISY BURNS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">GRACE LEE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MADELINE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">NATHALIE; a Tale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">RACHEL GREY.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SEVEN YEARS, and Other Tales.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SYBIL'S SECOND LOVE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">QUEEN MAB.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">JOHN DORRIEN.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE TWO LILIES.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">WOMEN OF CHRISTIANITY. Exemplary for Piety and Charity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">DORA. Illustrated by Gaston Fay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">SILVIA. A Novel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BESSIE. A Novel.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VICE_VERSA" id="VICE_VERSA"></a>VICE VERSÂ;</h2> + +<h3>OR, A LESSON TO FATHERS.</h3> + +<h3>By F. ANSTEY.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"If there ever was a book made up from beginning to end of +laughter, yet not a comic book, or a 'merry' book, or a book of +jokes, or a book of pictures, or a jest-book, or a +tomfool-book, but a perfectly sober and serious book, in the +reading of which a sober man may laugh without shame from +beginning to end, it is the new book called 'Vice Versâ; or, a +Lesson to Fathers....' We close the book, recommending it very +earnestly to all fathers, in the first instance, and their +sons, nephews, uncles, and male cousins next."—<i>Saturday +Review.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"Cordially do we recommend 'Vice Versâ.' We content ourselves +with a tardy tribute, in general terms, to its originality, its +irresistible humor, and never relaxed fascination."—<i>New York +Independent.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"By all odds the freshest and most unconventional work of +fiction recently published."—<i>New York Herald.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"If the story were not so laughable in every incident, and the +humor so delightful, we should weep over Mr. Bultitude; but we +are grateful to the author for an original, incomparably funny, +and morally instructive story, which exhibits a variety of +talent that will make him a distinguished +novelist."—<i>Criterion</i>, St. Louis, Mo.</p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"We predict for this book a wide popularity in +America."—<i>Boston Journal of Education.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"'Vice Versâ' is a remarkable book. It has been received in +England with a clamor of applause, and deserves all the good +that has been said of it."—<i>New York Critic.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"An uncommonly bright and amusing novel. It is brimful of clean +and spirited humor, and is as diverting a book as we have met +with in some time: refined in character, admirable in literary +style, and equally keen and clever in satire."—<i>Boston +Gazette.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"'Vice Versâ' has a rare and lasting flavor that will make it +sought."—<i>Boston Globe.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"A capital book, full of fun, constantly provoking to laughter, +and abounding in dramatic incidents. It is the cleverest book +of the kind that has been written for many a day."—<i>Baltimore +Sun.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"If you want the best novel of the year, buy 'Vice +Versâ.'"—<i>Chicago Inter-Ocean.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"One of the drollest and most entertaining books ever +written."—<i>New York Churchman.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"A work of genuine and well-sustained humor from beginning to +end."—<i>Utica, N. Y. Herald.</i></p></blockquote> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="UNCLE_REMUS" id="UNCLE_REMUS"></a>UNCLE REMUS:</h2> + +<h3><i>His Songs and his Sayings.</i></h3> + +<h3>THE FOLK-LORE OF THE OLD PLANTATION.</h3> + +<h3>By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"The idea of preserving and publishing these legends in the +form in which the old plantation negroes actually tell them, is +altogether one of the happiest literary conceptions of the day. +And very admirably is the work done.... In such touches lies +the charm of this fascinating little volume of legends, which +deserves to be placed on a level with <i>Reincke Fuchs</i> for its +quaint humor, without reference to the ethnological interest +possessed by these stories, as indicating, perhaps, a common +origin for very widely-severed races."—<i>London Spectator.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"We are just discovering what admirable literary material there +is at home, what a great mine there is to explore, and how +quaint and peculiar is the material which can be dug up. Mr. +Harris's book may be looked on in a double light—either as a +pleasant volume recounting the stories told by a typical old +colored man to a child, or as a valuable contribution to our +somewhat meager folk-lore.... To Northern readers the story of +Brer (Brother—Brudder) Rabbit may be novel. To those familiar +with plantation life, who have listened to these quaint old +stories, who have still tender reminiscences of some good old +mauma who told these wondrous adventures to them when they were +children, Brer Rabbit, the Tar Baby, and Brer Fox, come back +again with all the past pleasures of younger days."—<i>New York +Times.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"Uncle Remus's sayings on current happenings are very shrewd +and bright, and the plantation and revival songs are choice +specimens of their sort."—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"The volume is a most readable one, whether it be regarded as a +humorous book merely, or as a contribution to the literature of +folk-lore."—<i>New York World.</i></p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p>"This is a thoroughly amusing book, and is much the best +humorous compilation that has been put before the American +public for many a day."—<i>Philadelphia Telegraph.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Well illustrated from Drawings by F. S. Church, whose humorous animal +drawings are so well known, and J. H. Moser, of Georgia.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Charlotte_M_Yonges_Novels" id="Charlotte_M_Yonges_Novels"></a>Charlotte M Yonge's Novels.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HEIR OF REDCLYFFE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE DAISY CHAIN; or, Aspirations.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE TRIAL; or, More Links in the Daisy Chain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">DYNEVOR TERRACE; or, The Clue of Life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HEARTSEASE.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">HOPES AND FEARS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">KENNETH; or, The Rear Guard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE THREE BRIDES.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE TWO GUARDIANS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">YOUNG STEPMOTHER; or, A Chronicle of Mistakes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CAGED LION.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BEECHCROFT.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">BEN SYLVESTER'S WORD.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE CASTLE BUILDERS.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE DISTURBING ELEMENT.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="James_Fenimore_Coopers_Novels" id="James_Fenimore_Coopers_Novels"></a>James Fenimore Cooper's Novels.</h2> + +<p><i>NEW LIBRARY EDITION.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">1. The Spy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">2. The Pilot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">3. The Red Rover.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">4. The Deerslayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">5. The Pathfinder.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">6. Last of the Mohicans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">7. The Pioneers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">8. The Prairie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">9. Lionel Lincoln.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">10. Wept of Wish-ton-wish.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">11. The Water-Witch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">12. The Bravo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">13. Mercedes of Castile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">14. The Two Admirals.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">15. Afloat and Ashore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">16. Miles Wallingford.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">17. Wing-and-Wing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">18. Oak Openings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">19. Satanstoe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">20. The Chain-Bearer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">21. The Red-Skins.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">22. The Crater.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">23. Homeward Bound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">24. Home as Found.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">25. Heidenmauer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">26. The Headsman.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">27. Jack Tier.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">28. The Sea-Lions.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">29. Wyandotte.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">30. The Monikins.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">31. Precaution.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">32. Ways of the Hour.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>GREEN AND GOLD EDITION.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p>Illustrated with Steel-plates from drawings by Darley. +Handsomely bound in green cloth, beveled boards, gilt top.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>LEATHER-STOCKING TALES.</i></p> + +<p>Illustrated by Darley.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I. The Last of the Mohicans.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">II. The Deerslayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">III. The Pathfinder.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">IV. The Pioneers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">V. The Prairie.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><i>THE SEA-TALES.</i></p> + +<p>Illustrated by Darley.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I. The Pilot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">II. The Red Rover.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">III. The Water-Witch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">IV. Wing-and-Wing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">V. The Two Admirals.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="APPLETONS_POPULAR_SERIES" id="APPLETONS_POPULAR_SERIES"></a><i>APPLETONS' POPULAR SERIES.</i></h2> + + +<p>I. RODMAN THE KEEPER:</p> + +<p>Southern Sketches. By <span class="smcap">Constance Fenimore Woolson</span>, author of "Anne," etc.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>The success of Miss Woolson's novel, "Anne," has caused a fresh +demand for the artistic and remarkable sketches in the above +volume.</p></blockquote> + + +<p>II. IN THE BRUSH; Or, OLD-TIME SOCIAL AND POLITICAL LIFE IN THE +SOUTH-WEST.</p> + +<p>By <span class="smcap">H. W. Pierson</span>, D. D. Illustrated by W. L. Sheppard.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<i>It has peculiar attractions in its literary methods, its rich +and quiet humor, and the genial spirit of its author.</i>"—<span class="smcap">The +Critic.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>III. THE ODDEST OF COURTSHIPS; Or, THE BLOODY CHASM.</p> + +<p>A Novel. By <span class="smcap">J. W. de Forest</span>, author of "The Wetherel Affair," +"Overland," etc.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<i>At last, it seems, we have the American novel, with letters +royal to attest its birthright.</i>"—<span class="smcap">Home Journal.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>IV. THE NEW NOBILITY:</p> + +<p>A Story of Europe and America. By <span class="smcap">J. W. Forney</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The New Nobility" is remarkable for its varied scenes and +characters, for the range of themes that it covers, and for its +picturesque and animated style.</p></blockquote> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jews of Barnow, by Karl Emil Franzos + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JEWS OF BARNOW *** + +***** This file should be named 34617-h.htm or 34617-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/6/1/34617/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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