CHAPTER VI.
FROM GENOA TO PISA.
When Jacob awoke the next morning, he was astonished to find himself alone. He was told that Ivas had gone out before daybreak. He was at first alarmed about this matinal sortie, although he tried to explain it by a desire to bathe in the sea, or curiosity to see the city. The thought came to his mind that the poor boy wished to leave him, through excess of susceptibility, and had departed, counting on his restored strength. However, the sight of his little travelling-bag calmed his fears, and he was waiting calmly for breakfast when Ivas returned.
"I went out," said he, shaking Jacob's hand, "to take a little walk. I need air, solitude, and movement. I came on foot from Marseilles, and I am accustomed to walking. I have no right to soften myself with inaction. I must fatigue myself to feel that I live."
"You are a child," said Jacob smiling; "you distrust yourself, while so many others have too much confidence in themselves. You possess that which can vanquish all,--will. Strong as you feel in yourself you will overcome all obstacles. I know men remarkable in all respects who have never accomplished anything for lack of will, and I know other men who by their energy have attained, by sheer determination, a position far above that which their talents merited."
"You understand me," said Ivas, "and I fear to lose this will. I wished a short battle to convince me that I was not benumbed. I wrestled somewhat as Jacob, your namesake, did during his sleep, and I have conquered."
"Where have you been?"
"Almost everywhere. In the dusty highway, in the tumult of the port, in the deserted walks of Aqua Sola, and even under the windows of the beautiful Mathilde."
"And what took you there?"
"I know not. I found myself there by chance. I have seen Madame Coloni, the two Italians, and the Tsigane. We all met there to watch the departure from Genoa of the marvellous singer."
"What, the departure! Perhaps they only went out for a walk."
"No; if they intended to remain longer in Genoa they have changed their minds. The veturino told me that he was going to Spezia and Pisa. I do not think the husband would go alone, and from the baggage that I have seen I cannot tell how many travellers there are. The servant would not answer one of my questions."
"Why did you question him?"
"From curiosity."
"Then they are gone?"
"Probably, but I did not wait to see them go. I did not wish to be seen among the rabble which surrounded the carriage."
"Well," said Jacob suddenly, "what shall we do now? What do you desire,--to remain here longer, or to proceed on our journey?"
"As you will; but your journey has nothing in common with mine. I must go as soon as I have rested a little. You can do as you wish."
"Let me hear no more of this. Away with ceremony! It was agreed that we travel together. Refuse, and you will offend me. Give me your hand. We will go together. You can reserve your strength for something«better."
"But"--
"Where do you wish to go?"
"I should like to see Spezia and Pisa, if it is agreeable."
"Why?"
"Frankly, because Jacob wishes to go to Spezia, because Mathilde has gone that way, because Janus and Jacob are one and the same person. On his uncovered breast during his sleep I have seen a mourning ring suspended from a black ribbon."
"Even without that it was easy for you to pierce this mystery. Yes, that history is mine. Neither she nor I have any reason to blush. The relative who sent me to school was Mathilde's father."
"Then we will go to Pisa?"
"Yes, and I think we had better go on foot, if it is agreeable to you. The route is so beautiful that it deserves to be taken in detail. We will consign our baggage to the diligence, and we will take to the road like two wandering artists."
"An excellent idea. But let us depart before evening. I am anxious to get to my country. My homesickness becomes each day more violent. I foresee great events; impatience consumes me."
"Confess! You are a conspirator?"
"How could I be anything else? All Poland has conspired for two hundred years. Oppression drives us to it; generations of martyrs have excited us. Where life cannot expand in liberty, conspiracy is inevitable. It is the natural result of despotism."
"I understand you. Unhappily, however, for a country which is in such a situation, its inhabitants have lost confidence in themselves, and recognize their own weakness. I can only comprehend a conspiracy like ours, which has lasted two thousand years and which has led us to a regeneration. It has agglomerated our forces in a solid and vigorous union. Your conspiracies have something feverish about them that can end only in morbid decadence."
"Do not say so, I beg of you! You have not the same love for Poland as we, and you have not passed through such martyrdom."
"Excuse me for contradicting you. The country that has sheltered us, where in spite of continual persecutions we have increased by labour, has become for us a second country that we have chosen. You will think as I do some day before long. I feel myself at the same time Israelite and Pole."
"Men like you are rare," said Ivas. "I say it without flattery. In general, your race is credited with little affection for the country which has been a safeguard against other persecutors, and has recognized you as her children."
"Softly! Review history without partiality. Religious fanaticism and the arrogance of the nobility have long been an obstacle to the admission of Jews as citizens. The fault is also with the Jews, who have not tried to adopt the language and the customs of the country. They have isolated themselves, made a state within a state, a nation within a nation, and have not laboured sincerely to obtain that naturalization which is obtained only by common bloodshed and devotion. The fault is on both sides; both sides also ought to ask pardon and forget the past. Our age is different from others. Civilization spreads everywhere. Humane ideas are general; everything to-day tends to bring us together and unite us. We tender you the hand, do not repulse us!"
"What! can our younger generation be capable of repulsing you? There will be for a long while yet prejudices and repugnances, and evil predictions, but the majority of the people accept frankly your hand. Be then our brothers, but he is in spirit as well as in words, in action as in appearance. Be our brothers, not in the time of prosperity only, but in times of trouble and conflict."
Jacob pressed his companion's hand.
"Enough for to-day," said he. "We shall agree very well together, we young men. The youth of Israel think as I do. However, with us, as with you, there will be prejudices, old hatreds, secular distinctions; we must not let ourselves be influenced by these remembrances of the past. Love only can appease and unite us as one. Let us endeavour to love each other. We shall have occasion to resume this subject; let us now prepare to go. Shall it be on foot or in a carriage?"
"On foot, by all means."
That afternoon, dressed as pedestrians, they went to say farewell to Lucie Coloni. They found her in the midst of preparations for departure, in the midst of bags and trunks. The Russian was arranging the books and papers. The lady was finishing paying bills.
Jacob and Ivas were going to leave, fearing to incommode them, when Lucie looked up and saw Ivas.
"Ah, you are there! We are just going. Be sure to come to Warsaw, and do not forget what I asked you. Let me hear from you; I shall be anxious to see you. To-day I cannot talk longer. Do not forget Lucie Coloni. At the theatre you will find my address."
The young Pole looked at her with astonishment.
"You go with Gromof?" asked he.
"Yes. He is an old friend. I do not know that he will accompany me all the way. That depends. There is nothing certain. I will remind you that you can be very useful to me. May that be a reason for our meeting again."
"But how can I be useful to you?"
"Do not ask me now, I pray you. That is my business. Au revoir! Addio! Addio!"
When they came down the steps which led to the narrow place that separated the two hotels, they almost ran against the Tsigane who stood gaping in the air, smoking his cigar, and gravely watching the asses transporting their enormous loads to the wharf.
"Where are you two bound?" asked he.
"We leave to-day, on foot."
"On foot?"
"Yes."
"How ridiculous, when you can travel so much more comfortably! It is good, however, to have whims. As for me I am no longer capable of them. Still, if I could have for a companion the charming Italian I might decide to go on foot with her. The Russian monopolizes her."
"I fear so!" cried the Dane, suddenly appearing. "She has made an execrable choice. They have gone together; I have seen them off. Where are they going?"
"We know not. Perhaps toward the south."
"It is the cheapest way," replied the Dane, "and perhaps that is why the Russian will take it. One hardly needs food when they have swallowed the dust on the way. That is why I have decided to go by water. I love to travel that way much better than by land. I came to say good-by to la belle Coloni. I hoped to cut out the Russian, and I still have hopes that when I meet her again she may be tired of him. In order to gain a victory one must try."
"He calls that a victory; droll idea!" said the Tsigane. "He ignores the fact that in Italy one can obtain as many Lucie Colonis as he wishes for travelling companions."
"I do not believe," said Ivas, "that there are many persons as good and as spirituelle as this Lucie."
"I forgot that she came to your assistance at the Grotto. That is nothing. It only proves that she has a good heart. Any other woman would have screamed, and profited by the occasion to swoon gracefully. But I do not see the necessity of spirit in women. What use is it to them? To bite? They have their teeth for that."
Then addressing Jacob, the Tsigane continued: "Will you accept me as a companion? I ask it as a favour."
The two men questioned each other with their eyes. Gako perceived it, and said haughtily: "I withdraw my request. Stamlo is too old and too tiresome. Then the heat, the dust, render the diligence preferable. Adieu!"
He took leave of them and quickly disappeared.
"That is much better," said the Jew. "We should have had a tiresome companion."
The sun was sinking into the sea when the two comrades left their hotel and set out for Spezia. The suburbs of Genoa were marvellously beautiful. There were cypress and orange groves, and vineyards; flowers bloomed on every side, and birds sang in the branches overhead. Soon their pathway led along the border of the sea; at each moment the scene changed like a panorama. In springtime or in autumn this route is overrun by swarms of tourists who pass by with such rapidity that they retain only a vague impression of its beauty. Less numerous are the travellers who know how to travel slowly, and make frequent halts to drink in the beauty of the country.
Our friends were of the number who hasten slowly. They were in no way troubled about their arrival at Spezia; they were sure to find a lodging somewhere, for it was not difficult. A rustic chamber, some fish salad and cheese, some wine of the district, more or less palatable, that was to be found everywhere; and for lights they could have primitive little lamps, the rays from which are agreeable enough, but too feeble to permit one to read and write easily. Civilization in Italy has introduced wax candles only in the large cities.
Before they were fatigued, Jacob and Ivas procured asses, whose easy gait permits one to sleep if one wishes. These useful animals are accustomed to carry men as well as the most fragile objects.
The day had given place to twilight when they came to the orange groves of Nervi, with the flowers of which is made a water for spasms, celebrated the world over.
Until then the friends had spoken on many subjects. "You promised me to finish your biography," at last said Ivas. "You have disarranged a little the chronological order by your love episode, but it will not be difficult to reëstablish and complete your recital."
"With pleasure. I have concealed nothing, and yesterday I was obliged to reveal the most secret part of my life. I believe we left off where I entered school. Persecuted by my comrades, I learned there to know life as well as grammar. There were no notable events during that period. It opened to me, however, the doors of science, which I embraced to a surprising extent. Until then I had read only the Bible, which comprised for me the entire world. Since then I have been interested not only in the development of a single people, but of humanity. My exclusive faith in the chosen people was shaken by these studies. They appeared to me under a different light. My faith was troubled and my mind made more independent. Finally, I returned to the Bible more a Jew than ever, but of a different kind. Perhaps it is difficult for you to comprehend my Judaism. I will try, then, to explain to you how our society, strongly united by the remembrance of former persecutions, is to-day divided into several divergent factions.
"The Jew is no longer what he was when his absolute separation forced him to be himself,--to live, to reflect, and to instruct, within the narrow circle which hostile Christianity had traced for him. From time to time this circle sent out a Maimonides or a Spinosa, but it was largely composed of a compact body of strict and faithful believers. We grouped ourselves around the Ark of the Covenant. To-day the Jews are more liberal, less restrained, and walk in different paths. Many reject the ancient law, and accept in appearance another religion, while, in reality, they have none. My protector, the father of Mathilde, was one of this type. Educated by strangers, in the midst of indifferent men, he lost, at an early age, all respect for our traditions. Liberated from all ceremonious restraint, he was not a Christian, but had arrived at a stand-point, as you already know, where he reduced morality to calculation, and had taken reason for his guide.
"Man is only the most perfect animal. Above him exist other worlds, other beings, other conceptions; besides the body, there is a soul, which unites itself to the divinity, and can soar higher than the earth or stars. Materialism and atheism satisfy neither society nor individual. Their adepts are like flowers torn from their stalks: they wither rapidly. Take away God and the soul, and what would be the result with our refined civilization? An age such as ours, which subjugates the elements, pierces the mysteries of nature, but knows not how to distinguish good from evil. It is an age which worships only force, and where are heard in prolonged echoes the væ victis. There is nothing more sad than to see men who have overthrown tradition, and who have no other hope or aim but material prosperity.
"They are only too numerous in your communion as well as ours. The Christian who has ceased to be a Christian, the Jew who rejects Moses, have for a horizon only an earthly life consecrated to the satisfaction of their passions. Even when they appear to be happy, they are at heart miserable. They end in apathy or insanity. Man finds in Mosaism an intellectual nourishment sufficient for his reason.
"In order to decry the faith of Moses, which is the basis of Christianity, it is unjust to take advantage of certain singularities in the Talmud which are almost always falsely ridiculed. Even in the Talmud one finds a poetry of which any literature might be proud."
"I know nothing of this poetry," said Ivas.
"You have, however, read quotations from the Talmud chosen in such a way as to cast ridicule upon it."
"No; I know almost nothing of it."
"Are you curious to have some idea of it? Would you like to know the Paradise or the Hell after the rabbinical conceptions?"
"From preference the Hell, for human imagination is more apt to represent the tortures of the damned than the delights of the elect. Dante's Heaven is very inferior to his Hell. Probably it is the same thing with the Talmud."
"I do not know. The description of the abode of the blessed in the Book Jalkut (7. A.) is full of splendour."
"As for Hell in the book, Nischmas Khaïm, it is separated from Paradise by a very thin wall, symbol of the narrow bounds which often separate vice and virtue. The river which rushes through the Hell is boiling, whilst that which flows through Paradise is of an agreeable freshness. Three routes lead to it: by the sea, by the desert, and by a city of the world. Five kinds of fire burn continually in Hell, of which the extent is sixty times greater than that of the earth. It is governed by three chiefs. The most important of this triumvirate is called Dumah. This Dumah has three prime ministers,--Ghinghums, Taschurinia, and Sazsaris. The palace of this demon is situated in that part of Hell called Bor.
"Hell is full of scorpions and serpents, and is divided into several departments. The deepest and the most frightful serves as a sewer for the filth of the other hells, and for the poison of the old serpent that seduced Eve.
"The Talmud is varied. It contains dialogues, controversies, dissertations, allegories, and moral tales. It is a collection of the writings of several ages, through which one can follow the variations in the Hebrew language. They have tried to establish in this confusion a certain order. Maimonides, among others, has tried it; but his book on this subject, although very much esteemed, has not been accepted by all.
"In opposition to the unbelieving Jews like Mathilde's father, there are Jews who adhere blindly to the Talmud, and put several rabbis on a level with Moses. Others, like myself, put their faith in the Old Testament, and are content to respect the traditions related in the Talmud. At first by early Jewish education, afterward by my European education, I became an Israelite of a special kind. The Talmud, from which I sought to draw lessons of wisdom, had not made me superstitious. At the bottom of my heart I guard as a most precious treasure my religious belief. I do not repel the light of reason nor the law of progress, a negation which would, in a way, separate me from actual humanity. My faith and my reason agree perfectly.
"When I was called to Warsaw by my kinsman, I had not the least idea of the true situation of my co-religionists. In the provinces I had met many kinds of Jews. Some were so faithful to their belief that they dared not depart from the most useless and inexplicable rules. Others, our brothers by blood, were no more ours in customs and spirit.
"I approached the capital of the kingdom with lively emotions, anxious for the future, and ignorant of the world I was about to enter.
"The provincial Jews live and have lived entirely separated from the Christians. Here I met them for the first time mixed and confounded, if not by law, at least by habit, with the population. At first I could hardly comprehend the thing. I met Jews who sought to conceal their origin, visible as it was on their Semitic brows, among whom some were believers, others complete sceptics. Our race, by wealth, education, and acquired importance, were in position to court and obtain political and civil equality. The old Polish nobles, imbued with bygone prejudices, saw with alarm this imminent fusion, and endeavoured to prevent or to retard it, considering always the children of Israel as strangers and intruders. On both sides hatred has been kindled, and the position is false in both camps. Those whom daily business brought together, whom necessity united, who had mutual interests, remained like armed foes divided by remembrances, prejudices, and fanaticism.
"However, victory for us is certain. Justice and the spirit of the times render it inevitable; but I digress, as usual.
"Mathilde's father, feeling sure of his pupil, introduced me into society. I had other kindred in the capital, and before long I had made many acquaintances.
"I was much chagrined by the sentiment of the greater part of my compatriots, a sentiment incomprehensible to me,--of shame at being Jews. In the houses of the wealthy there was not the slightest vestige of the faith and traditions of our fathers. The ancient customs had disappeared, the religious ceremonies were not observed. They concealed themselves to celebrate the Sabbath.
"I would like to describe some types of the community difficult to characterize in general, but it would take too long.
"We made evident progress; still we were in some sort dispersed and enfeebled, and what is worse, the country was indifferent to us. If we displayed any patriotic sentiments, they were rather affected than sincere. It was rather from pride than from duty. We had almost ceased to be Jews, and we knew not how to become Poles. We started, as it were, on a voyage without compass. Unhappy situation!"
Jacob sighed and ceased speaking. The darkness obliged them to halt at an inn near by. It was a small brick house built on a hill near the sea-shore. The sign bore the name, Albergo di Tre Corone.
Near the door, whence streamed the cheerful light from a crackling wood-fire, they saw a cart with two horses surrounded by men clad like sailors with their jackets thrown over their shoulders. A woman holding an infant to her breast was seated against the wall. Around the house were vineyards, aloe and fig trees, the whole scene being thrown out in strong relief by the glimmering firelight.
Our travellers relieved themselves of their bags, ordered supper, and in the interval of waiting went down near the sea, and, seating themselves on a rock, listened to the ebb and flow of its murmuring waters. Near them under the stunted bushes flew innumerable fireflies, seeming in the obscurity to be little sparkling stars. They rested mute, in the silence of the evening, the prayer of the tired earth.
CHAPTER VII.
VOYAGE ON FOOT.
Our companions were awakened early next morning by the coming and going of travellers at the inn, a noise which was only dominated by the braying of asses. Jacob and Ivas resolved to depart immediately, and, profiting by the freshness of the morning, to make up the time they had lost the previous evening. Short stages, such as that of the day before, threatened if continued to render their journey interminable; but their excuse was that their route lay through an enchanting country where the beauties of the landscape made them forget the flight of the days.
They walked for some time without exchanging a single word. Both were absorbed in thought. Finally Ivas broke a silence which weighed equally on his companion.
"Well," said he, "have you finished your history? I have your life in general, but it lacks many details. You ought to have something more to tell me."
"It would be as easy," replied Jacob, "to finish my recital in two words, as to continue it for two years, without even then exhausting the subject. However, if you desire it, we will take it up where we left off.
"My kinsman observed me attentively. My reflections often astonished and displeased him. He found me too much of a Jew, and when on Saturday I announced to him that I wished to go to the synagogue, it was with surprise that he replied:--
"'Why? Do you wish to remain faithful to obsolete prejudices?'
"'Yes. I wish to remain a Jew.'
"'Do as you will,' said he, 'but know beforehand that the point in question is to be a man. After that, complete liberty in religious matters.'
"After this interview he looked on me as an individual on whom he could count only up to a certain point.
"One day he spoke to me of a person who, as he said, shared my convictions. He was an old man named Louis Mann, whom I knew by sight, and who passed for one of the deep thinkers of the city.
"The next day I went to pay my respects to him at an hour when I was almost certain to find him at home. He lived with his wife and three daughters in the first floor of a fine mansion. His apartments were richly furnished, and his son lived in a separate house near by.
"When I rang the bell a servant showed me into a little reception-room. A half-open door permitted me to look into the salon, and see a brilliant company of ladies and elegant cavaliers. I waited a long quarter of an hour. Mann then came in to see me; he did not deign to introduce me to his family or guests. I was received politely, but not as an equal. He made me understand that he did me an honour by receiving a homage which was due to him as a co-religionist, but that he had no desire to have any social relations with me.
"My position was embarrassing enough. On one side ladies dressed in the latest fashion surrounded the mistress of the house, who was clad in a magnificent robe of embroidered satin. I had not even been asked to sit down, as Monsieur Mann evidently disdained my unfashionable clothes. His pride did not hurt me; in spite of my poverty I had a most profound sentiment of self-respect, and it made me feel for this person puffed up with his own importance more pity than resentment.
"He began to give me advice, mentioning the names of many rich Israelites and dignitaries of the highest places, happy to let me see that he had intimate relations with these distinguished men. What did it matter? Wishing to dazzle me, he laid bare his littleness, and I remember perfectly the glitter of three decorations that ornamented his morning coat.
"'Young man,' said he in a solemn voice, 'I am rejoiced that your most worthy kinsman has tendered you a helping hand. By your assiduity and labour try to recompense him and render yourself useful to our race. We are all disposed to assist you, but you must make yourself worthy of us.'
"Still speaking, he looked at the door without even condescending to turn his head toward me. As he finished speaking there entered a lovely young girl who scanned me with half-closed eyes, then approached her father, put her arm around his neck and whispered something in his ear without granting me the least recognition.
"That was enough. There was nothing for me to do but retire as soon as possible. Mann, not thinking of detaining me, dismissed me coldly and entered the salon.
"I learned later on that he had done many benevolent actions, but, right or wrong, I have always attributed them to his extreme vanity. I ought to be grateful that in difficulties he has always put himself forward as the protector of the Jews. Far from being ashamed of his origin, he proclaimed it aloud and gloried in it. It was, perhaps, because he wished to pass as the representative of his people and be celebrated. Many times even he has agitated the subject in a perfectly useless and stupid manner.
"Mann was apparently a chief, but his followers were composed of a phalanx of adroit advisers who knew well how to accustom him to adopt their ideas as his own.
"His house was always open to visitors who considered him, or pretended to consider him, as the influential leader of the Jewish population of the city. Never did an exterior so well correspond to the character of a man. Short and corpulent, with broad shoulders, he had the air of carrying the world on his back, a crushing weight for others, but insignificant for a person of his calibre. In private life he played willingly enough the rôle of querulous benefactor.
"In other respects an honest man, his Jewish orthodoxy, although lacking sincerity, was, at least, a satisfaction to his pompous vanity. Under a mask of religion he equalled my kinsman in scepticism. They both had one real sentiment,--hatred for the nobility; and as I did not look on things as they did, they seemed to me extremely unjust. They concealed this enmity as much as possible; they lived on good terms with many of the nobles, and even made them great demonstrations of friendship. It was a comedy on both sides.
"Would you know the Jews in their worst light, then ask a Polish noble. Would you learn the vices and follies of the nobility, question a Jew.
"The populous city was a large field of study for a curious observer like myself. I sought to learn the inmost character of the people of Israel. My attachment to them dated from infancy, and for a long while I hoped to consecrate my life to the amelioration of my race. Still weak, unknown, without influence and without knowledge, I could hardly believe myself equal to the rôle to which I aspired; but an interior voice encouraged me. I dreamed of regenerating the Polish Israelites. But in this dream I did not believe that the reform would commence in the higher classes. These were they who above all were an obstacle to my mission, through systematic indifference, always a thing more difficult to overcome than the most inveterate prejudice.
"The question being more complex than I had at first supposed, I found it necessary to acquire a more solid instruction in order to combat it. I consecrated anew all my leisure to reading the Bible and its commentaries. At the outset my sojourn at Warsaw was sustained by sweet illusions, and my daily meetings in the city were very profitable to my intelligence. Conversations with this one and that one showed me the urgency of a reform to purify the Talmud and affirm the Bible and its teachings. The enterprise promised to be no less successful with mocking sceptics like my cousin, than with sincere fanatics whose sins were only excess of credulity.
"I really do not know how the idea of such a gigantic project originated in my mind. Humblest of men, I only know that I had a confidence in myself which increased with difficulties. In place of discouraging me, obstacles only enlarged the circle of my activity. I was in no haste to set to work. I wished above all to discover the ground and the weak point of my adversaries. That which frightened me, without making me renounce my project, was the great number of atheists among the Israelites.
"Mann and my cousin were not the only leaders of unbelief. Always and everywhere in the ruling class I met counterparts of these two men. The lower class offered me some consolation. Among them, though belief might be extinguished, religious customs still existed. There was often an abyss between true religion and its practice whose corruption was great, but at times there appeared an instance of virtue, radiant and pure.
"Everything assured me that my idea of reform was a just one, and that the propitious hour was not far off when I should become the instrument of God for the advancement of the people of Israel."
Jacob arose from his seat on the rock as he spoke, and his face shone with a superb and devout inspiration.
"And the streets of Warsaw did not make you lose your illusions?" asked Ivas smiling.
"Not at all. The thought that I carried from my distant province I preserved in the Polish capital. I have published it in my journeys, and I will take it back to Poland. The thought is my life!"
"Alas!" cried Ivas, "you come too late. The days of the prophets and the lawgivers are past. Proselytism is not possible in an epoch where each individual feels himself as capable as his neighbour of reasoning, of reforming, and of advancing by following his own impulses. No one will permit himself in these days to be led by the hand like a child."
"You are mistaken. Prophets are of all times, and, as general education is perfected, a guide is necessary to indicate the end to be obtained, and to conduct the masses by the power of superior virtue."
"Have you, then, the hope of raising yourself to that position?"
"I know not. But the sentiment of this mission would not have taken such root in my soul if it came not from God. If I think to shrink from the task, a superior power orders me to advance."
"Poor dreamer!" thought Ivas.
"The burden is heavy," Jacob continued; "I do not ignore that. My personal worth has nothing to do with the thing. My object is so sublime that it awes me. But," said he suddenly, "you do not appear to comprehend me."
"No matter, I admire you!" replied the young Pole, shaking his companion's hand warmly. "I know very little of the Israelites, but I sympathize with them. Your race resembles ours. An ingenious Muscovite teacher, in one of his manuals for the schools where history is learned by questions and answers, has put the following question: 'Which are the nations without a country?' The official reply is: 'The Jews, the Gypsies, and the Poles.' I have never forgotten that wicked irony of a Russian teacher. Between you and me there is a likeness, and at the same time an unlikeness. Your oppression dates back to ages whose very antiquity is in one way an excuse for barbarism, while ours dates from an age that has taken for its device 'Fraternity, equality, and liberty!' Compared with other people in this nineteenth century, except, perhaps, the Irish, our destiny is a frightful anachronism. But to return to the Jews."
"You know me much better now," continued Jacob slowly. "You see before you a fanatic, an original, an eccentric, a man who believes, who hopes, who has a determined aim in life. I have undertaken my journey only to prepare myself better for the execution of my project. I am more convinced than ever of the necessity of the task which I have assumed. I have seen the Jews in almost every land. Everywhere I have found in them the two maladies which poison my co-religionists in Poland,--indifference or unbelief, which renders us cosmopolites; fanaticism, or ignorance, which puts on us the ban of humanity. These two dangerous elements threaten to extend. Israel will disappear from the surface of the earth, like all nations who repudiate their glorious past, like nations detached from the maternal breast of humanity, which live an exclusive life exhausting and extinguishing themselves. Israel has great need of regeneration."
"And you expect to be the regenerator?"
"I count only on indicating the work. What reason should hinder me from putting my hand to the task for which I have prepared myself with assiduity and perseverance. The will is an immense force.
"After my visit to Mann, my cousin asked me what impression I had formed of this man whom he knew better than I. He sought, no doubt, by this question to better understand my humble self.
"'I found him,' replied I, 'so occupied that it was a trouble to receive me.'
"'Did he not receive you well?'
"'Yes. But'--
"'Bah! You must not attach importance to his reception. He is a boor whose grossness is only partly concealed. At heart he is an honest and excellent man.'
"We arose from the table, the ladies passed into the salon, and my cousin led me to his study, where he drew from me a detailed report of my visit.
"'I am young,' added I in finishing, 'and I have therefore nothing to seek. At all events, I have no desire to see him again.'
"'On the contrary! On the contrary! You must go to see him often. Shake off your timidity. With men in general be bold without impertinence. The less you treat them with respect, the more consideration they will have for you. Abase yourself, and they will put you under their feet.'
"'You are right,' replied I; 'nevertheless I cannot change myself; I cannot be bold by reflection nor calculation, nor humble by interest. It is unfortunate to have so little control over one's self, but it would be in vain for me to attempt to change my nature.'
"'Then you will never amount to anything. In the world, in order to succeed, one must play a continual part; one must know how to be humble when one is really proud, and to show one's self valiant when paralyzed by fear. Otherwise one is exposed to impositions, dominated over and crushed. You must crush or be crushed; which would you rather do?'
"'So wretched a rule of conduct,' said I, 'will never be mine. My principles are absolutely different. I look on life as a grave and serious mission; as for yourself, excuse my frankness, it is not a rôle learned in advance for the theatre.'
"'Oh, I do not mind,' said he; 'but our two systems differ because you have too good an opinion of men. Yours is fine in appearance, detestable in results. Open your heart, unveil your inmost thoughts, it is to deliver them voluntarily as food for men whom reason commands us to despise as our natural enemies.'
"'I would rather,' cried I, 'regard them as brothers!' My cousin laughed ironically and stroked his beard.
"'My dear,' added he, 'it matters not what you prefer, but what really exists. I have never supposed that you were so innocent. All the bucolic pictures of mankind are very well in paintings, tapestries, or screens, but in practical life to believe in Utopia is always to remain a dupe. At times man is good and honest, but he inclines more frequently to evil. Is it not worth while to lean on a normal state rather than on exceptions of short duration?'
"'But humanity will perfect itself.'
"'When? How? All nonsense! Industry will advance, implements will be perfected so that we may be nourished and clad, commerce will develop, but not man. That which makes life easy for the masses is a benefit, and yet the question is not determined whether all this progress corrupts or elevates mankind. The question is not settled. We must use men like tools to elevate ourselves, and not lose time by loving them as a whole. The useless ought to be put out of the way without pity. The capable we must learn to make use of. Behold my theory! Your's leads to nothing. Sensibility is a disease, a malady of the worst kind.'
"This terrible theory did not frighten me; I was prepared to hear it. This was for me a decisive and memorable day. It brought together, and at the same time drew apart, my mentor and myself. He continued, looking me in the face:--
"'As I wish you well, not from a morbid sensibility, but to make of you a man who may be useful to me, I will give you one more word of advice. You have a habit, as if to distinguish yourself, of boasting continually of being a Jew. It is ridiculous, and will injure you seriously.'
"'It would, I think, be still more ridiculous to wish to conceal it, and that I will never do,' replied I, 'for I am strongly attached to my race and to my belief. By simple calculation, even, would it not be a hundred times better to declare my origin than to conceal it, that it may afterward be thrown in my face as an insult?'
"'But why recall your origin everywhere you go?'
"'Because I am proud of it.'
"'Proud, and why? That is inconceivable. Judaism was, perhaps, in former times our shield and buckler, but it is no longer so.'
"'But our religion,' commenced I.
"'Our religion! What is it more than other religions? They are all alike. So much milk for babes. You believe, then, that it is wicked to yoke together an ox and an ass for labour, or to mix blood with milk, or silk with wool, and that whoever does not keep these old rules and reply Amen to them will go to hell?'
"'I respect even these old ordinances of my faith, difficult as they are to explain. I see the reason in the law of Moses of the order not to mix grains in the fields: it is a wise agricultural measure. To forbid two animals working together, one of whom is much weaker than the other, is a protection for the beasts. Not to mix blood and milk is probably a good hygienic law. Not to wear silk and wool at the same time can pass for a sumptuary law, designed as a lesson against superfluous luxury. In general, all these prohibitions against mixing species are symbols of the necessity that there is for Israelites not to mix with other nations. I respect these rules even when I cannot explain them. The 'Amen' in the schools is a duty, for not to assent to the rabbins is to show unbelief.'
"My cousin listened, astonished at the enthusiasm of my answer, then he shrugged his shoulders.
"'You had better get rid of these prejudices,' said he.
"'If they were prejudices, you would be right, but you cannot call respected traditions prejudices. It is to put our faith in danger."
"'What is faith?'
"'The definition is unintelligible to those who do not feel the need of it.'
"'It is easy to recognize, in listening to you, the teachings of your first fanatical masters.'
"'I do not dream of shaking off the teachings of childhood. They have made me a member of God's chosen people. Leave me my convictions.'
"'Keep them, if you will. Your whims will depart of themselves. All I ask is that you keep them to yourself. Actual society is tolerant, but it does not like fanaticism, for that always denotes a narrow mind or an unhealthy state. Truly none of us forgets that he is a Jew, but it is unnecessary and injurious for one to be perpetually clothed in his Judaism.'
"The life of my guardian conformed in all things to his principles. He was guided by cold reason, sometimes also by passion, which he knew well how to bridle, but never by sentiment, of which he was either destitute, or from which he strove to deliver himself. I know not if he was fashioned thus by nature or by education, but each one of his steps was regulated by self-interest. He put calculation above all things. He loved his daughter, but in his own way; he had disposed of her, as he thought, excellently, and had brought her up to conform to his ideas.
"A terrible despot under a benign form, he had a conservative instinct to undertake nothing that was not certain to succeed. Fighting against obstacles, where to draw back would have been an avowal of his weakness, he almost always succeeded where other men failed.
"He now endeavoured to widen the circle of my acquaintances. In spite of my distaste to pushing myself on in this way, he did not cease to preach to me that I must take men by storm. He often took me to visit people who were odious to him; for these he reserved his most gracious smiles, his most cordial protestations. He turned a deaf ear to all offensive allusions, and did not appear to notice the indifference of this one nor the ostensible malevolence of another. He had such control over himself that things which completely upset me did not seem to make the least impression on him. He contented himself with biting his lips and smiling. But afterward the reaction was violent, and the more his irritation had been restrained the more violent was his hatred when he had taken off the mask. Reason, which always predominated with him, was the only thing which kept him from passing the bounds prescribed by prudence.
"From the first year of my sojourn in Warsaw he initiated me into the world of speculators, where one must know how to defend one's self in order not to be crushed. Every day I felt myself less adapted to such a life. What shocked me most was the continual lying; hardly any one thought of speaking the truth. I adopted a different line of conduct,--an audacious frankness.
"Men, who always judge others by themselves, imagined that I played an easy part, and that I acted thus by calculation. I succeeded well enough in business, but in the midst of rogues of all kinds I passed equally for a rogue, an impostor of a new school who played with truth. I acquired the reputation of being a good actor. This troubled me a little, but it gave me the measure of men of our epoch who have for their motto: 'Mundus vult decipi ergo decipiatur.'
"Mathilde, in these early days, was my only consolation. You already know that I loved her; you know that our love resembled a flower concealed in the grass. For her, at least, I was neither a knave nor a comedian. A sentiment clearer than reason gave her confidence in my words. Our conversations were not like those of lovers. By an inexplicable mystery Mathilde's heart had not been chilled by her education. Many things were not alluded to in our discussions, which almost always took place in the presence of her governess. I did not like to let her know my opinion of her father, for whom she bore a lively affection, which it was not my wish to disturb. I also loved him in spite of his perversity. Some allusions from Mathilde made me understand that he also had suffered in his youth.
"My guardian knew how to gratify his desires without infringing the strictest propriety or the most severe decorum. It was known, perhaps, but no one ever saw the least impropriety in his conduct.
"For a year he spoke to me no more of religion. At the end of that period, accidentally, perhaps, rather than by deliberation, he renewed the conversation. No doubt he wished to know if my prolonged sojourn in Warsaw had modified my ideas and calmed my enthusiasm. Finding me absolutely unchanged, he abruptly changed the subject.
"Some days after, he mentioned to me houses where I ought to pay frequent visits, hoping that the influence of those I met at them would act on my sentiments and ideas. He recommended to me a family very important among the Israelites. This family was descended from the tribe of Levi, and numbered several members living together in perfect harmony, although one remained a Jew, another had embraced Protestantism, and a third had become a Catholic. My cousin approved this family as a model of indifference in religious matters. Pleasing to him, the spectacle scandalized me.
"The melancholy which reigned in Mathilde's soul I discovered also more or less developed in most of the women of her race, who can be divided into two categories: frivolous women without principle, and women obliged to conceal their noble instincts, knowing them forbidden."
The entire day was passed in conversation which gave Ivas much to think of, and although the friends rode on their donkeys, and two days had passed since their departure, they were yet not far from Genoa.
Night found them in a little village on the sea-shore, near hills crowned with cypress, palms, and orange trees; the huts were covered with ivy and surrounded by myrtle and laurels.
They sought a lodging, and engaged one in a narrow street whose houses were built over ancient arches sunk in the middle of a hillock. In the distance a travelling-carriage without horses announced a hotel.
"What a meeting!" cried Ivas. "Unless the Italian carriages resemble each other like drops of water, I swear that is the one which carried Monsieur and Madame Segel from Genoa."
Jacob stopped short at the same moment. He recognized Mathilde's husband standing at the door of the inn near a woman who, from her height and figure, bore no resemblance to his wife.
"It is a hallucination! It is not possible!" exclaimed the Jew.
"There is no doubt. It is Segel; it is he!" said Ivas.
Jacob's heart beat violently.
"Yet," added he, as if to explain the reality, "they should be far from here, even supposing some accident had happened to their carriage. It is singular.--Yes, it is Henri--perhaps she is ill, she--Let us seek another inn. It will be awkward for all. Ivas, go and assure yourself of this thing."
The Jew seated himself near a café bearing the motto, Del Gran Colombo. A quarter of an hour later the messenger returned. He seemed surprised.
"Well, how is it?" asked Jacob.
"Very strange. It is he, but--it is not she."
"You dream! Your eyes deceived you, without doubt."
"No, I never forget a face. This one is a young Italian, fresh and gay. Impossible to compare her with Madame Mathilde: she is heaven, this one the earth."
"Then the man cannot be Henri!"
"Certainly it is he."
"Are they alone together?"
"All alone, like turtle-doves. Madame or mademoiselle eats peaches, throws side glances at Segel, laughs and sings."
"I must see it with my own eyes," said Jacob.
The friends approached the inn, and Jacob soon assured himself that it was Henri, accompanied by an unknown woman with all the fascinations of an opera-dancer.
He was about leaving when Henri Segel saw him, saluted him gayly, and drew near.
"Is that you?" cried he. "You have caught me in flagrante delicti. Poor Mathilde is sick. She returned to Genoa after having accompanied me as far as Nervi. She will remain there quietly for a fortnight. As for myself, I needed distraction, and, by chance, I met an old acquaintance, la Signora Gigante, a French opera-dancer, who is the best of company. Bored and wearied as I am by the monotony of life, I seized this occasion to enjoy myself. One must laugh sometimes. Gigante is as simple-hearted and gay as a child. You have no idea how amusing she is. She has drawn me from the monotony of my existence."
He confessed all this naturally and without embarrassment.
Jacob, stupefied, could hardly believe his ears, and knew not what to reply.
"Mathilde," added the husband, "as you know, is the most beautiful and accomplished of women; but such ideal creatures are fatiguing. It is not always agreeable to talk of serious things in a solemn tone. A man occupied as I am needs sometimes to breathe easily. Gigante is an admirable clown in petticoats. Come, come, you will sup with us. You will laugh! You will be amused, I assure you."
Jacob felt a great wrath grow in him. He laughed savagely.
"I accept willingly," said he ironically; "life is made only for amusement."
Gigante, no longer able to repress her curiosity, drew near in order to ascertain who the two strangers were that examined her with so much curiosity. Her attention was bestowed principally on Jacob, as Ivas, poorly clad, promised little. She tripped toward them singing, and the refrain echoed in the street in bursts of gayety.