Aaron the Jew: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

M. Levi, deep in thought, did not answer the question, but it was nevertheless treasured in his memory. Treasured also in his memory were some words that passed between his eldest son and his wife.

"Mother, I am a Jew?"

"Yes, my dear."

"I am glad."

"Why, my child?"

"Because M. Cohen is a Jew. I want to be like him."

M. Levi looked at his son, a handsome lad, whose face was flushed with the pleasures of the most memorable evening in his young life. To deprive him of his confirmation would be robbing him of God's heritage. The father was at heart a Jew, but, like many of his brethren residing in Christian communities, had found it easier to neglect his religion than to conform to its precepts. Putting it another way, he thought it would be to his worldly disadvantage. He had made his will, and therein was written his desire to be "buried among his people"--that controlling wish which, in their last moments, animates so many Jews who through all their days have lived as Christians. "Let me be buried among my people," they groan; "let me be buried among my people!" That is their expiation, that is their charm for salvation, for though all their years have been passed in attending to their worldly pleasures and temporal interests, they believe in a future life. These men have been guided by no motives of sincerity, by no conscientious inquiry as to how far the tenets of an ancient creed--the principal parts of which were formulated while the race was in tribulation--are necessary and obligatory in the present age; they are palterers and cowards, and grossly deceive themselves if they believe that burial in Jewish ground will atone for their backsliding. M. Levi was not a coward, and now that his error was brought home to him he was strongly moved to take up the broken threads of a faith which, in its purity, offers so much of Divine consolation. He himself broached the subject to Aaron, and his resolve was strengthened by the subsequent conversations between them.

"That man is to be honoured, not despised," said Aaron, "who changes his opinions through conviction. He may be mistaken, but he is sincere, and sincerity is the test of faith. You believe in God, you acknowledge His works, you live in the hope of redemption. In religion you must be something or nothing. You deny that you are a Christian. What, then, are you? A Jew. What race can boast of a heritage so glorious? We have yet to work out our future. Take your place in the ranks--ranks more illustrious than that which any general has ever led to victory--be once more a soldier of God."

These words fired M. Levi. The following Saturday his place of business was closed; from a box in which it may be said they were hidden, he took out his garment of fringes, his prayer-books, his phylacteries, and worshipped as of yore. Two vacancies occurring in his business, he filled them up with Jews; Aaron also induced a few Jews to settle there, and in a short time they could reckon upon ten adults, the established number necessary for public worship. In the rear of his house Aaron built a large room, which was used as a synagogue, and there M. Levi's eldest son was confirmed. In the autumn, when the Feast of Tabernacles was celebrated, the little band of Jews found a booth erected in Aaron's garden; there was a roof of vines through which they saw the light of heaven. It was beautified with flowers, and numbers of persons came to see this pretty remembrance of a time when the Children of Israel dwelt in tents in the wilderness. The prayers in the synagogue over, the worshippers assembled in the booth, and ate and drank with Aaron and his family. Aaron had provided palms, citrons, myrtle, and willows for his co-religionists, and in an address he gave in the course of the service he told them how the citron was a symbol of innocent childhood, the myrtle a symbol of youth and of the purity that dwells on the brow of the bride and bridegroom, the firm and stately palm a symbol of upright manhood, and the drooping willow a symbol of old age. His discourses had always in them something new and attractive which had a special bearing upon the ancient faith in which he took so much pride.

"We have you to thank for our happiness," said Madame Levi to him.