' 
 
 I 
 
 $ THE * 
 MEDIATOR 
 
 ED\VARD A* STEINER
 
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 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
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 Ben B. Lindsey
 
 THE MEDIATOR
 
 The Works of 
 EDWARD STEINER 
 
 On the Trail of the 
 Immigrant 
 
 " A more valuable contribution to the litera 
 ture of the vital question of immigration 
 could hardly be imagined. No American 
 citizen can fail to gain in appreciation of its 
 importance by reading this work by a keen 
 and sympathetic observer." The Interior. 
 Illustrated, net 1.50. 
 
 The Mediator 
 
 A Tale of The Old World and 
 the New. 
 
 Dr. Steiner has an unerring literary instinct 
 and writes with an intensity of temperament, 
 heightened be experience. One cannot but 
 think hard as he brings his passionate Jew 
 boy from Russian-Poland through the Cath 
 olic monastery, up to the American ideals, 
 and finally through the crisis of his romance 
 in the new world. .... 1.50. 
 
 Tolstoy the Man 
 
 A Biographical Interpretation, Re 
 vised and Enlarged. 
 
 " Perhaps the most conspicuous effort to 
 throw absolutely correct light upon Russia's 
 great thinker and writer, and the truest, 
 fairest and most sane study that has yet been 
 made." Philadelphia Record. 
 Illustrated, .... net 1.50.
 
 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 A Tale of the Old 
 World and the New 
 
 BY 
 EDWARD A. STEINER 
 
 Author of " On the Trail of the Immigrant ' 
 
 NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 LONDON AND EDINBURGH
 
 Copyright, 1907, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue 
 Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W. 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
 
 PS 
 
 35-37 
 
 To the memory of my 
 
 Beloved Mother 
 JEANETTE HELLER STEINER, 
 who was widowed in time of war, plague and 
 famine ; whose heroism and patience, whose 
 tolerance and simple trust, were an in 
 spiration to all who knew her above 
 whose grave they truthfully 
 wrote : " Never has a woman 
 suffered more, never was a 
 mother more beloved" 
 
 11GS13G
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN V 9 
 
 IL THE DAY OF ATONEMENT ... 21 
 
 IIL THE KOSHER NURSE .... 31 
 
 IV. How THE LORD CALLED SAMUEL . 42 
 
 V. THE AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 52 
 
 VI. DR. EOSNIK PRESCRIBES . . . 66 
 
 VII. THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL , . 76 
 
 VIII. SAMUEL'S CHOICE . . . . 88 
 
 IX. BROTHER GREGORIUS ... 99 
 
 X. "MACKES" . . ... .107 
 
 XI GENUS AMERICANUS . . . . .117 
 
 XTT. " AND A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD 
 
 THEM" .... -. , . 132 
 
 XIII. THE ZIONISTS , ... .146 
 
 XIV. THE ANARCHIST . 155 
 
 XV. THE LAND OF FRIENDS . . . 165 
 
 XVI. A JEWISH PHARAOH .... 179 
 
 XVII. THE PURSUING CHRIST . . .190 
 
 XVIII. His NAME WAS LOVE . . . 201 
 
 XIX. EIVKA DISCOVERS AMERICA . . 209 
 
 XX. INCENSE AND CHLOROFORM . . 219 
 
 XXI. MORE "MACKES" . . . . 230 
 
 XXII. DR. EOSNIK PRESCRIBES AGAIN . 251 
 
 XXIII. THE STRUGGLE FOR A SOUL . 264 
 
 7
 
 8 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XXIY. THE MEDIATOR CHOSEN . 
 
 XXV. JANE . . . . 
 
 XXVI. THE ANARCHIST NUN . 
 
 XXVII. EivKA'sGoD V ..--; 
 
 XXVIII. THE FEAST OF BROTHERS 
 
 XXIX. THE DAY OF AT-ONE-MENT 
 
 277 
 292 
 305 
 320 
 326 
 347
 
 The Mediator 
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 
 
 f~T"^HE peace of God be with you, Eeb Abra 
 ham, the peace of God" almost joyfully 
 -* it was shouted at him, while he gravely 
 replied, " Peace, peace be with you." 
 
 The men crowded around Abraham Cohen and 
 heartily shook his hand, forsaking for a moment the 
 bartering Gentiles who had come into the town of 
 Kottowin to celebrate the feast of Corpus Christi, to 
 drink the healing waters from the sacred spring, 
 and to consume as much vodka as they could hold, 
 little caring that it came from a very unholy source 
 the Jewish innkeeper's stone jug. 
 
 The women drew Channah, Abraham's wife, be 
 neath sheltering doorways and whispered generous 
 advice. Looking into her delicate face, over which 
 a sweet blush hovered, one could easily believe that 
 Channah deserved the reputation of having been the 
 most beautiful Jewish bride that ever came to Kot 
 towin. 
 
 A narrow creek divided the Jewish town from the 
 9
 
 10 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 sacred ground upon which the Christians had built 
 their church and their homes a crooked, muddy 
 stream, an arm of a broader one. Over a bridge 
 spanning the larger stream the toll-gate hung menac 
 ingly, like a huge scythe poised in air, ready to drop 
 upon the invader, were it man or beast, who could 
 not pay the toll of one kopek. 
 
 The little arm of the creek, however, was like 
 the wide ocean which separates two continents. It 
 separated the Gentiles' portion of the town from that 
 inhabited by the Jews, the distance between them 
 being made greater and greater by mutual hate and 
 distrust, and by frequent storms menacing both 
 coasts and often eating away in a moment whatever 
 common standing ground had grown between. 
 
 Abraham and Channah had to cross the muddy 
 creek, and when they reached the market-place 
 where the great church stands, the booming of guns, 
 the noise of a brass band, and the ringing of bells 
 produced a pandemonium of sound which made them 
 quake from fear. 
 
 From the portals of the church came acolytes 
 swinging their censers; behind them in his festal 
 robes was the abbot of the cloister, walking beneath 
 a gilded baldachin, and following him were the clergy 
 and a great crowd of worshippers carrying the church 
 banners and singing praises to their Christ. 
 
 Abraham and Channah hid in the doorway of the 
 town-hall, hoping to escape the lynx eyes of the
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 11 
 
 church organist, who usually carried the image of 
 the Virgin and who made it his special business to 
 see that every Jew, by taking off his cap, gave 
 proper greeting to the Queen of Heaven. 
 
 Now the enemy came nearer and nearer, looking 
 this way and that for his legitimate prey a Jew's 
 head not uncovered. Never before in the history of 
 the town of Kottowin had the organist failed to dis 
 cover at least one such offender ; never before had 
 he failed to make the feast more joyful by knock 
 ing off the offender's cap, to the amusement of the 
 worshippers. This time, also, history repeated it 
 self. 
 
 "Take off that cap," he shouted in a rage, but 
 Abraham did not remove it. "Take off that cap, 
 or I'll knock it off ! " 
 
 Abraham remained motionless. A blow upon his 
 head flung the cap far into the crowd ; while the 
 guns boomed, the brass band blared, the church bells 
 rang, and the priests chanted their hymns of praise 
 to the risen Christ of Kottowin. 
 
 Vainly you will search the map for the location 
 of Kottowin ; but if you come from afar and see a 
 golden cross over the church steeple, which looks 
 like a big onion with a little one on top of it, and 
 just below, seven glistening shafts which rise above 
 the synagogue, a Moorish structure so out of place 
 in this Northern clime then you are in sight of 
 Kottowin.
 
 12 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 When you pass the only two-storey building in 
 this region, where the Pany lives who owns all the 
 soil within many miles ; when you walk through the 
 double rows of lilacs which flank the highway and 
 then pass over the long bridge at one end of which is 
 the toll-gate j when your feet strike the rough pave 
 ment, each of its cobblestones like a miniature moun 
 tain ; when men buried in sheepskin coats pass you 
 and, taking off their broad hats in greeting, say : 
 " Praised be the Lord Jesus Christ and the Virgin 
 Mary" then you are in the town of Kottowin. 
 
 When to the right of you and the left of you are 
 little shops crowding one another, and in the door 
 way of each a gesticulating Jew, inviting you to 
 bargain and to buy then you are in the Jews' street 
 of Kottowin, a market town in the district of Kot 
 towin in Poland. 
 
 The place has no historic fame, although there is a 
 great mound where lie buried Austrian soldiers who 
 came here to help Russia quell the Polish Revolu 
 tion ; it has no industries to carry its name beyond 
 the borders of the district, although they make boots 
 out of pigs' hides, heavy working boots the soles 
 glued to the top with pitch. Nevertheless, it is 
 known far and wide beyond the borders of Poland, 
 in Hungary, Austria, and even Germany being 
 almost a household word wherever good Catholics 
 believe in healing waters, and wherever Jews still 
 have faith in the virtue of the little scrolls nailed to
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 13 
 
 the door-posts of those houses inhabited by children 
 of the Covenant, or where they still use phylacteries 
 and wear the sacred fringes upon their garments. 
 
 The fame of Kottowin rested itself entirely upon 
 its sanctity. The Catholics revered it because of the 
 healing waters of a miracle-working spring, the Jews 
 because of the traditions handed down through gen 
 erations, and which taught them how to manufacture 
 the sacred aids to Jewish devotion. This fame was a 
 good business asset, for pilgrims came from afar to 
 drink the waters and bathe in them. Here a large 
 monastery was built and daily grew greater, while 
 hospitable inns in large numbers crowded one an 
 other on the market-place. 
 
 The Jews drew custom for their sacred wares 
 from hundreds of miles of surrounding country, and 
 men and women, burdened and perplexed, came for 
 the testing of their scruples and the solving of their 
 riddles to the Eabbi, who, because of his peculiar 
 sanctity, could do wonders in settling family quar 
 rels, deciding great doctrinal questions, and, by the 
 laying on of hands, could heal all manner of dis 
 eases. 
 
 You certainly are not versed in the affairs of Jewry 
 if you have not heard of the Wonder Eabbi of Kot 
 towin, who bathed once a week, fasted each Tues 
 day and Friday, who never looked a woman in the 
 face, and was said to talk to God as did Moses, the 
 great lawgiver.
 
 14 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 The piety of the town did not affect any portion of 
 its social structure. Its political dignitaries were of 
 the same calibre as are found elsewhere in Poland ; 
 they took from Csesar all that was Caesar's, and from 
 the people all that the people gave. Its tradesmen 
 fleeced the stranger whenever there was a chance, and 
 never let his left hand know what their right hand 
 did. 
 
 The Pany who owned all the land was a product 
 of Poland's aristocracy so gallant that he could 
 never endure to see women cry in his presence; 
 therefore, he turned them out of doors, when he 
 had robbed them of their virtue or of the wage 
 of their sin. He hated idleness ; therefore, he exer 
 cised himself by beating the gypsies who invaded 
 his estates, or by playing cards until daylight. He 
 believed strong drink to be the worst thing in the 
 world ; therefore, he drank every drop he could get, 
 in order to put it outofHhe world. 
 
 The church organist, school-teacher and music 
 master, three in one, who could never play at mass 
 so well as when he was thoroughly soaked in wine, 
 who knew every scandal because he was at the bot 
 tom of each these men were just like other men in 
 other towns scattered throughout the kingdom. 
 
 But in the religious sphere its men and institutions 
 were supreme. On one side, was the Dominican friar 
 who for austerity and piety had no equal in his 
 Brotherhood. On the Jewish side, to match him, was
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 16 
 
 the Wonder Rabbi, whose very name was whispered 
 in awe by all Jewry ; on the Gentile side, the huge 
 church, with its wonder-working spring, its gorgeous 
 altars, pictures, and banners ; on the other side, the 
 synagogue, with its seven shining minarets, its re 
 markable scroll of the law so wonderfully enshrined 
 in embroidered velvets and hung with golden chains 
 and bells. When it was taken from the Ark, the 
 people felt as if Jehovah Himself were coming out 
 of the darkness of Sinai. 
 
 Just now, on the Jewish side at least, all its in 
 terest centred, not on the Wonder Eabbi, but on 
 Abraham Cohen, the only surviving Levite, who, be 
 cause of his priestly descent, could pronounce the 
 blessing on the great feast days. 
 
 There had been no lack of Levites in years gone 
 by ; a dozen or more stood before the Ark in their 
 stocking feet, the long prayer-mantle completely cov 
 ering them, their hands outstretched in such a 
 peculiar manner that it seemed as if two horns were 
 reaching out over the heads of the priests. In varied 
 discord they would pronounce the benediction, dwell 
 ing on the last Amen as if loath to let it go, sounding 
 each vowel again and again, until with a final effort 
 they centred all their vocal and nervous energy, 
 shouting one long "Amen" while the congregation 
 took up the cry, "Amen and Amen." It sounded 
 like a battle cry ; but it was the cry of the van 
 quished and not of the victors.
 
 16 THE MEDIATOB 
 
 The Levites dwindled in numbers ; they died, and 
 their sons had to go out into the highways and by 
 ways to buy and to sell, growing less pious in the 
 measure in which they were prospered by Jehovah. 
 Many of them, instead of calling out blessings in 
 God's temple, as did their fathers, hurled maledic 
 tions at one another before the altars of Mammon, 
 in the temples of trade of Budapest or Vienna ; and 
 instead of selling holy script they sold stocks and 
 bonds. 
 
 Abraham Cohen was the sole survivor of that 
 large Levitic band ; he was past middle age, but as 
 yet he had no son to inherit his office, with its se 
 crets of folding the hands to appear like horns and 
 shouting the blessing with its staccatos, with its 
 crescendos and diminuendos in the labyrinthine wind 
 ings of the final Amen. He had been brought up in 
 a Talmudic atmosphere, having begun to enter the 
 mazes of its ancient law books when he was five 
 years of age, and his mind continually moved amid 
 their tortuous paths. This Talmudic study robbed 
 him of the joys of childhood and made him old be 
 fore he was young ; yet it bestowed upon him a 
 spiritual heritage visible in his face and form, a 
 heritage not possessed by those Jews of Kottowin 
 whose backs were bent by heavy bundles of mer 
 chandise rather than by devotion to the study of the 
 Talmud. Its dogmatic chains bound him firmly to 
 a hoary past, but its wings gave freedom to his
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 17 
 
 imagination and made him what the Jew at his 
 best always is at once a realist and an idealist ; as 
 well as a mystic and a rationalist. 
 
 He was short, though that shortage was neither of 
 his head nor of his body, but of his limbs. Over his 
 brow hovered an austere serenity, and a smile was 
 always striving with his wrinkled face. Had it not 
 been for the disfiguring garb, the orthodox ringlets, 
 which hung from his temples, the bent back and shuf 
 fling gait, Abraham Cohen would have won favour in 
 the eyes of all those who looked at him. In spite of 
 these handicaps, he was the most favoured Jew in Kot- 
 towin ; he had many friends and no enemies j even 
 the Gentiles who hated all Jews alike and were hated 
 by them in return, called him affectionately "our 
 Abraham." 
 
 He was extremely unpractical, and Channah, his 
 wife, a delicate woman of good breeding who was 
 given to him in marriage only on account of his piety, 
 had to keep the wolf from the door, doing so at the 
 expense of her health. 
 
 When Abraham rose, at four in the morning, to 
 question the Oracles of Jehovah, Channah also rose, 
 wakened the maid, whom she assisted in preparing 
 the breakfast, and then went out to the workshop 
 where she supervised the tanning and cutting of the 
 skins used in the manufacture of phylacteries. With 
 painful patience Abraham wrote the words of Jehovah 
 upon the parchments ; but Channah had to see that
 
 18 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 they were put into their proper casings, that they were 
 shipped to the right addresses, and that the work 
 men did their allotted tasks. 
 
 Channah was the wife of a saint, and she patiently 
 endured all the consequences of her lot. Her only 
 grief was that she had no son, a grief shared by all 
 the pious Jews of Kottowin. The Wonder Eabbi had 
 been consulted again and again ; he turned from book 
 to book, looking wise ; but inwardly he was as per 
 plexed as Abraham himself, who did not know why 
 the Lord had thus afflicted him. The Eabbi finally 
 decided to urge an heroic measure, namely : a pil 
 grimage to the graves of the wise men who are buried 
 in the old cemetery in Cracow, and who because of 
 their superior wisdom and devotion to the law have 
 direct access to Jehovah. Neither Abraham nor 
 Channah had to be urged to undertake the pilgrimage. 
 They would have tried to climb to the clouds, if by 
 so doing they might have had their request from God ; 
 so while Channah ordered the affairs of the household 
 and shop, collected the money, and cooked and baked 
 food for the journey, Abraham sat at his table with a 
 new quill plucked from a living goose and wrote his 
 request to Jehovah. With painful accuracy each 
 letter was written, for all had to be perfect ; 
 while every line of light or shade had to be like 
 every other line, and no erasures or spots dared 
 appear on so sacred a manuscript. This is what he 
 wrote:
 
 THE HOLY TOWN OF KOTTOWIN 19 
 
 "Jehovah, my God, the God of my fathers and the 
 God of my people ! Hear, Israel ! The Lord thy 
 God is one God ! I am sending this request by the wise 
 men who see Thy face, Jehovah ! for they knew Thy law 
 and studied it day and night ; Thou wilt not turn away 
 from their prayers in my behalf, who am Abraham, of 
 the tribe of Levi, and the last Cohen in the congregation 
 of the people at Kottowin. Ghannah, my wife, is barren 
 and I will not put her away from me to marry another 
 to bear me seed, that a son might say prayers at my grave 
 and speak the blessing before the Ark upon Thy people in 
 the great congregation. I beseech Thee, Jehovah ! to 
 be merciful to Channah as Thou wast to Sara, the wife of 
 our father Abraham, whose womb was sealed, and yet 
 who bare seed unto him when she was past age. Hear 
 my prayer, Jehovah ! And grant unto me a son, that 
 I go not childless to my grave, and that the Ark in which 
 Thy law rests remain not without a priest ! 
 
 u ABRAHAM, Thy faithful Servant in 
 the Congregation of Kottowin." 
 
 And Abraham gave the letter to Channah who laid 
 it upon her bosom, as the Eabbi had directed. Then 
 they started on their pilgrimage, so rudely interrupted 
 by the organist. 
 
 All things must end ; even the Christians' proces 
 sion with its sea of banners, each one a bitter eye 
 sore ; with its incense which Abraham did not dare 
 breathe, fearing that every breath would pollute him ;
 
 20 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 with its multitude of pious worshippers solemnly and 
 slowly moving along, too often stopping to kneel in 
 prayer. 
 
 All things end, and this torture ended also. Abra 
 ham took the hand of Channah, his wife, and they 
 crossed the bridge where the toll-gate is, and walking 
 between the hedges where the lilacs were just burst 
 ing into bloom, purified themselves in the rich per 
 fume of their incense. The birds, singing their love- 
 songs, made the two forget the chants of priests and 
 acolytes, and the smile which had long been striving 
 with Abraham's wrinkled face, shone from a new 
 touch of hope above the furrows of care, as with 
 clasped hands he and Channah walked joyously into 
 the beckoning spring.
 
 n 
 
 THE DAY OF ATONEMENT 
 
 NATURE does not consider the mood of pious 
 souls, and the Day of Atonement dawned 
 bright and beautiful over the holy town of 
 Kottowin, quite unmindful of the fact that with the 
 Jews it was a day of fasting, of mourning and of wail 
 ing, and that it seemed purposely created to blot out 
 the short span of human joy which creeps into the 
 Jewish calendar at this season of the year. It comes 
 upon the heels of the New Year's day, which is cele 
 brated when nature is heavy from the blessings of the 
 season, when the notes of joyous psalms and of the 
 ram's horn and the taste of good things to eat still 
 linger in the ear and upon the palate. It comes bid 
 ding men put on grave-clothes, while fields and gar 
 dens are rioting in colour ; it shuts from mind and 
 soul the vanities of life, when each breath of air makes 
 one tremble from the mere joy of living, and com 
 mands the sealing of the mouth to food and drink, at 
 that season of the year when the land is * ' flowing 
 with milk and honey." 
 
 Crowded in unpicturesque confusion close to the 
 synagogue, with its shining minarets, lived the mem 
 bers of the Jewish community, far famed for their 
 
 21
 
 22 THE MEDIATOK 
 
 piety ; and this day, the day of all days, marked the 
 zenith of their scrupulous devotion to the letter of the 
 law. The fire on the hearth was dead everywhere 
 and no smoke escaped from any of the chimneys, ex 
 cept as it rose lingeringly over the home of Abraham 
 and Channah ; those who saw it, knew that it spelled 
 illness. 
 
 Close by the synagogue it stood, a straw thatched 
 cottage, void of all external beauty, and within void 
 also of most of the comforts of life. The little garden 
 around the home looked neglected and the plums on 
 the straggly trees were stung and gnarled, for he who 
 studied the law of God in the books only knew noth 
 ing of its workings in nature, and had never learned 
 to be conscious of the fact that, as of old, so even now, 
 Jehovah was in the burning bush. Within the little 
 house there were sweetness and neatness, for Channah 
 was known far and wide as one who looked "Well to 
 the ways of her household" j so while an odour of 
 leather permeated the atmosphere, there mingled with 
 it the scent of strong soap, and one became immedi 
 ately conscious of the royal battle between the two. 
 Against the wall stood two beds filling that side of 
 the room ; a huge tiled stove occupied one end, while 
 corresponding with it, at the other end, was a sofa 
 whose palmy days were of yore, and whose ribs pro 
 truded like those of Pharaoh's lean kine. Over the 
 sofa hung two paintings whose presence there cost 
 much grief to Abraham and Channah alike. They
 
 THE DAY OF ATONEMENT 23 
 
 were portraits of her parents, and she insisted upon 
 their being in the home, not because they were the 
 likenesses of her father and mother, for they resem 
 bled them only in the faintest degree, but because 
 they were pictures and were surrounded by huge gold 
 frames, which gave the room its one touch of colour. 
 
 Abraham strongly objected to them on those very 
 grounds; they were pictures in gold frames and 
 might lead Channah's thoughts to impiety and vanity. 
 His real objection to them was that they reminded 
 him of the comfort and luxury from which he had 
 taken Channah, that they emphasized the poverty of 
 the room, the discomfort and struggle in Channah's 
 life, and his own share in making that life so hard. 
 The study of the law covered a multitude of sins ; yet 
 he was quite conscious of the fact that it did not cover 
 all of them. 
 
 On the day of Atonement Abraham had risen early 
 and soon stood before Channah's bed with a cup of 
 steaming coffee, the odour of which did not tend to 
 lessen his own desire for food. " Drink, Channah ; I 
 have asked the Eabbi whether you might have food 
 to-day, and he said that Eabbi Eliezer, when asked the 
 same question by one of his followers, replied thus : 
 ' A woman may not eat or drink anything on the Day 
 of Atonement, but every child must be fed as often as 
 it needs food even on this holy day.' Now, Channah, 
 my life, this coffee is not for you ; it is for the little 
 Cohen who, not long hence, if God please (blessed be
 
 24 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 His name ! ), will clamour for food." Imitating the 
 cry of a little babe, he forced the cup into Channah's 
 hand and she drank the warm beverage, while her 
 pale cheeks quickly responded to it by a gentle glow. 
 
 Yes, indeed, God had been good to both of them ; 
 that journey to Cracow had been the most wonderful 
 event. Fifty miles they walked to the station, and 
 there for the first time they travelled on a railroad. 
 What an epoch in their lives ! To see those telegraph 
 poles fly past their car window and yet remain sta 
 tionary ; to see the towns and villages one after an 
 other in such quick succession, and finally to walk 
 beneath the huge gates of Cracow out into the mazes 
 of the Ghetto ; and then to enter that wonderful syn 
 agogue and the great cemetery ! Abraham did not 
 neglect to throw Channah's letter upon the grave of 
 the saintliest of those saintly teachers, and together, 
 in childlike faith, they implored the intercession of 
 the wise men. They pleaded their cause from no 
 selfish motive, for this child whom they so desired 
 was to be a servant of Jehovah, a priest before His 
 altar. Looking back now upon that pilgrimage, it 
 seemed to Abraham as if God had answered the pe 
 tition immediately, for a new feeling sprang up in 
 his heart ; and the Talmud, the Mishnah, and all the 
 musty legal decisions of ages were crowded into the 
 background, while something humanly warm, alive 
 and new, crept into it. 
 
 He looked upon Channah and her face was beautiful
 
 THE DAY OF ATONEMENT 25 
 
 to behold, except for the furrows of care upon her 
 forehead, and those, alas ! he knew he had helped to 
 plow there. 
 
 This new feeling came upon him with an oppressive 
 gladness which made him sob like a child as Channah 
 pressed him close to her bosom ; so both began to 
 know what love was, and that love guided them 
 home. 
 
 The summer which followed brought its holy pain 
 to Channah, who tasted resignedly all the penalty of 
 love, while the tenderest devotion surrounded her at 
 every step and guarded her " in her lying down and 
 her rising up." All day long it was: " Channah, 
 my dear, you must not do this, you must not do 
 that." Every care, every exertion, were spared her; 
 so suffering lost its sting and the fear of death 
 took flight, while the banner over her was love. In 
 stead of growing stronger, however, as the physician 
 predicted, she grew daily weaker, and on the Day of 
 Atonement she did not need Abraham's restraining 
 hand to keep her in bed. 
 
 She watched him putting on his grave-clothes pre 
 paratory to going to the synagogue ; his long white 
 robe and the white cap with its silver tassel, which he 
 drew out of a large bag on which she had embroidered 
 the double triangle called the shield of David. Her 
 dark eyes were fastened upon his face as he stood 
 there full of life, yet ready for the grave should the 
 death-angel call him ; and in spite of the fact that he
 
 26 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 put his arms close around her before he said his good 
 bye, and that she could feel the warmth of his body, 
 the fear of death crept over her, and she hid her tears 
 in the folds of his garb destined for the grave. 
 
 " Channah, my own love," he said, as he embraced 
 her again and again, while the tears flowed over her 
 cheeks and he himself was scarcely able to refrain 
 from weeping. " Don't be afraid, God has been 
 good ; He was with us in Cracow ; He will continue 
 His goodness to us until these few months pass, and 
 He will help you and sustain you." 
 
 The sun had risen higher than it ever had without 
 finding Abraham in the synagogue at morning 
 prayers, and he could hear now through the open 
 window the voices of the congregation tumultuously 
 assaulting the ears of Jehovah with bitter lamenta 
 tions and violent praise. It sounded like the distant 
 murmur of a storm, and above the yet quiet waves 
 rose the voice of the chief reader : 
 
 11 Blessed art Thou, O Jehovah our God, King of 
 the world, who giveth the cock perception to distin 
 guish between day and night ! " And the congrega 
 tion repeated the verse in a deep murmur which did 
 not subside even when the reader lifted his voice still 
 higher and cried out: " Blessed art Thou, O 
 Jehovah our God, King of the world, who hast not 
 made me a heathen." And again the congregation 
 repeated the verse more loudly, although in Abra 
 ham's room it was heard only as a harsh murmur.
 
 THE DAY OF ATONEMENT 27 
 
 With almost a note of triumph the reader sang out 
 the next blessing : " Blessed art Thou, O Jehovah 
 our God, King of the universe, who hast not made 
 me a woman." And when the congregation repeated 
 the verse it was distinctly heard by Abraham and 
 Channah ; and she, bowing her head, said with all 
 the pious women of Kottowin : " Blessed art Thou, 
 O Jehovah our God, who hast made me according to 
 Thy will." 
 
 Without saying another word, Abraham wrapped 
 himself in his mantle and hastened to the house of 
 prayer, where his late coming created not a little 
 comment. 
 
 The women had reached the synagogue before him 
 and his arrival gave them an opportunity to begin 
 the day's programme, by talking much one to the 
 other, between their spasmodic intervals of following 
 the prayers for the day. Seated in their own gallery, 
 apart from the men, the women gossiped. The con 
 versations, carried on in audible whispers, were 
 about Channah and the ordeal before her ; and every 
 woman in Kottowin to whom God had granted the 
 blessing of motherhood recalled her own joys and 
 sorrows in the rearing of her offspring. Louder and 
 more animated grew the talk in the gallery, and 
 farther and farther the busy tongues travelled into 
 the mysteries of life and death ; while the men be 
 low, wrapped in their grave-clothes, prone upon the 
 floor of the synagogue, were beating their breasts in
 
 28 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 the confession of their sins, Abraham joining in the 
 service more heartily than ever. 
 
 Noon came and passed. The women had grown 
 weary of conversation and were now busy quieting 
 their half -grown sons and daughters, who felt more 
 keenly the craving of empty stomachs than the 
 yearning after spiritual blessing ; while the cry for 
 something to eat was louder than the lamentations of 
 their fathers over their sins. In vain did the mothers 
 hold smelling salts and lemons under their noses ; 
 they wanted food to eat and clamoured for it until 
 out of the depths of each woman's pockets came 
 chicken bones, bread with poppy seed, and all the 
 things which make glad the heart of Jewish youth. 
 Many a woman grew faint and had to be led down 
 stairs, yet the vociferous worshippers remained un 
 disturbed until the time came for the priestly bene 
 diction. 
 
 Abraham's mind was with Channah, and vainly 
 did he strive to wing his thoughts Godward as be 
 hooves a priest of Jehovah. Three times during the 
 day he had slipped out to see his wife, and the last 
 time he had thought it wise to have Madam Spitzer 
 called from the gallery to go to her. All the women 
 who saw her leaving her place thought of Channah 
 more than of Jehovah, and wondered if, after all, the 
 men who that morning thanked God that they were 
 not made women did not have abundant cause for 
 gratitude.
 
 THE DAY OF ATONEMENT 29 
 
 Abraham stepped in front of the Ark where the 
 scrolls of the law were enshrined. He was bare 
 footed (for he was on holy ground) as he faced the 
 congregation, wearied by its continued prayers and 
 its fast since daybreak. Usually, this moment 
 thrilled him by its solemn grandeur. To the right of 
 him and to the left of him sat the dignitaries of the 
 synagogue, the president of the congregation, the 
 rabbi and the elders. They bowed before him and 
 waited with the congregation for the blessing to fall 
 from his lips. The gallery was filled by women 
 eager to hasten home to attend to their household 
 duties and begin preparations for the evening meal. 
 The sun was setting, and anxious eyes were already 
 beginning to search the heavens for the first star, 
 which would release the people from their fast. 
 
 To-day the emotions which filled Abraham were 
 entirely human ; the thought of Channah, of her un 
 born babe, and fear of blasted hopes began to blot 
 out the joyful anticipation of the last seven months, 
 clouding the grandeur of the moment. He wrapped 
 himself in his prayer-mantle and, stretching out his 
 hands over the heads of the bowed congregation, he 
 began to pray softly and tenderly, not imperiously 
 as of yore. " Thou hast commanded us to bless Thy 
 people Israel. Blessed art Thou, Jehovah our God, 
 who hast sanctified us with the holiness of Aaron and 
 in love hast commanded us to bless Thy people." 
 Then began that remarkable, ecstatic performance
 
 30 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 which was really a vocal struggle between priest and 
 people he dwelling on the first word of each bless 
 ing pronounced, and the congregation snatching it 
 from his lips and repeating it with much haste and 
 fervour. Formerly, when the congregation had fin 
 ished, it was his custom to take each word separately, 
 embellishing it with cadences and trills, with pathetic 
 and joyous exclamations, giving full vent to his 
 emotional nature and tasting each word through as if 
 it were the waiting feast after the fast. 
 
 To-day his voice did not rise triumphantly, nor 
 did a joyous note escape his lips, and when he came 
 to the last sentence and prayed : " Deliver me from 
 errors and purify the imagination of my heart and 
 lengthen the days of my wife and children, to be 
 passed in happiness and pleasantness and in abun 
 dant strength and peace," each word was a sob, every 
 note full of a pain which he had never known before, 
 so that the women in the gallery wept, carried away 
 by the tenderness of his prayer. Now came the final 
 amen. Letter by letter he began to pronounce it, 
 higher and louder rose his thrilling voice, mellowed 
 by the tears which seemed to melt every note in their 
 heat and pain. Once or twice he pronounced the 
 amen, and then a wail came floating in through the 
 windows of the synagogue as of a woman in travail. 
 Higher and higher rose Abraham's voice, and, 
 blending with it, unknown to him, was the voice of 
 Channah, struggling to give life by her own death.
 
 m 
 
 THE KOSHER NURSE 
 
 THE evening star, which hundreds of eager 
 eyes simultaneously detected, was trem 
 bling in the heavens, a token that the Day of 
 Atonement was over, that the candles might be 
 lighted, the tables spread, and the fast succeeded by 
 a feast. As much gladness as ever entered the Jew 
 ish homes in Kottowin came now, with hunger and 
 thirst allayed and with release from the rigour of 
 those spiritual exercises which had taxed to their 
 limit both the body and the mind. If any more 
 prayers were offered that night they were offered by 
 the younger portion of the population, and were in 
 profound gratitude that the Day of Atonement came 
 but once a year and these of course were not 
 printed in the Prayer Book. 
 
 In Abraham's home no table was spread, no candles 
 were lighted ; the strain of the fast and the vigil of 
 the day were not relieved by the appearance of the 
 evening star, nor by all the brilliant galaxy of stars 
 as they shot out into the heavens, nor even at mid 
 night as they kept their silent watches. Still in his 
 grave-clothes, holding Channah's hands, Abraham 
 prayed to Jehovah ; while Channah's agony and his 
 
 31
 
 32 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 own shook him as if two great fevers were passing 
 through his veins, the one more consuming than the 
 other. The physician stood at the bedside ready for 
 extreme measures, as he watched the ebbing of Chan 
 nah' s strength; then, knowing that her hour was 
 come and that it held all the penalties pronounced 
 upon mortal woman, he led Abraham who had not 
 strength left to resist his firm grasp away from 
 Channah's side. Lying upon the floor in the outer 
 room trying to grasp the beaten earth with nerveless 
 fingers, unable to weep, unable to remove the pres 
 sure of pain crushing his heart, he waited during 
 the dark minutes which passed like hours, and then 
 the door was opened. The yellow light which shone 
 in upon him seemed like a burst of flame shooting 
 out of some terrible depth, as, dazed, he looked up 
 and waited for his doom. 
 
 " Mazel tov" Good luck to you! yet Madam 
 Spitzer uttered no shout of joy. "It's a boy, Eeb 
 
 Abraham, a wee little boy ; but Channah " He 
 
 did not let her finish the sentence. As he rushed 
 into the room, a weak cry, a puny little cry, greeted 
 his ears, coming from within bundles of blankets 
 . . . and Channah lay there, pale, almost lifeless, 
 with closed eyes which never opened again to see 
 the son whom Jehovah had given to her and Abra 
 ham in answer to their petition. 
 
 The morning came, and yet another morning, and 
 the wee child lived on, while its mother was wrapped
 
 THE KOSHEE NUESE 33 
 
 in a white shroud and laid upon the floor ; then be 
 fore night came she was carried away by the pious 
 men of Kottowin, who recited long prayers and made 
 many lamentations, but shed no tears. The women 
 stood in the doorways as the procession passed. 
 They did not read Hebrew prayers out of the Prayer 
 Book, nor did they make their lamentations accord 
 ing to the ritual ; but they wept bitterly as they 
 thought of Channah whom they loved, of Abraham 
 alone with his tiny babe, and of the motherless child. 
 
 Abraham, being a priest, was not allowed to touch 
 the body of his beloved wife nor to follow her out to 
 the God's acre where she was buried, close to the 
 roadway which divided the Jewish cemetery from the 
 Pany's fields, now lying barren j for the harvesters 
 had passed over them. So Abraham remained at 
 home with the little babe, not much bigger than his 
 two hands, listening helplessly to its cry for food ; 
 and the new care for the living was added to the bur 
 den of his grief for the dead. What should be done 
 with the living one, was now the question which puz 
 zled the mind of Madam Spitzer, and she threw the 
 burden upon him as soon as the funeral procession 
 had left the house. 
 
 " You can't wait, Eeb Abraham ; the child needs 
 food now, and I don't want to spoil its stomach by 
 feeding it from a bottle. You must search for a 
 nurse." 
 
 So while Channah' s body was being wrapped close
 
 34 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 in the arms of Mother Earth, Abraham was holding 
 the child close to his own breast. It was small and 
 puny, its tiny forehead was wrinkled as its mother's 
 had been, and it looked as if it had grown shrivelled 
 from age. Yet it was destined to live ; it was 
 simply the question of a nurse, the doctor said, and 
 how to provide one was a serious problem, at least 
 from the religious standpoint. The Jewish women 
 who were mothers were all married and had family 
 duties which could not be easily shifted to other 
 shoulders ; and although there were many offers to 
 feed the baby temporarily, no one could be found who 
 was able to give the delicate child the immediate and 
 constant care which it needed. 
 
 There were Gentile nurses in abundance, for the 
 peasant girls rarely married before they were mothers, 
 and many of them were able to lay the foundation 
 of a modest fortune by nursing two or three children 
 of the well-to-do. Their own were often taken in 
 charge by some old women, whose business it was to 
 keep such children ; and there was rarely a serious 
 question raised as to whether she kept them alive or 
 not 
 
 Abraham's scruples led him that same night to the 
 Babbi, to whom he propounded the question, whether 
 a Jewish child might nurse at a Gentile woman's 
 breast. 
 
 "Beb Abraham," the Eabbi replied, "you are a 
 fool. Forgive me for calling you that on the day of
 
 THE KOSHER NURSE 35 
 
 your great sorrow ; but this question has been settled 
 a thousand times, and always in favour of the infant. 
 The milk from a Gentile nurse's breast is kosher for 
 an infant which cannot be kept alive any other way." 
 
 "But, Rabbi," was Abraham's repeated question, 
 " how can the milk be kosher when that woman has 
 been eating pork all the days of her life ? " 
 
 "No; that milk is not kosher, Reb Abraham," 
 again said the Rabbi, "you are right; but just as 
 soon as you get your nurse home, feed her with kosher 
 meat and kosher soup, and the milk will be kosher. 
 Reb Abraham, let me tell you that if you had any 
 sense left you would have thought of that yourself. 
 To-morrow morning, as soon as you can, march 
 out to the hills and go around among the peasants. 
 You won't have to march long until you will find just 
 the kind of woman you need, and the sooner you get 
 the child to her breast the better ; only don't forget 
 the kosher meat and the kosher soup." 
 
 "But, Rabbi, is she herself kosher?" was Abra 
 ham's anxious plaint. 
 
 "Reb Abraham, I will tell you how you may know 
 whether she is kosher or not. If she is small and 
 narrow chested, with a sallow skin, then she is not 
 kosher, and no scouring and no prayers will make her 
 so ; but if she is tall and well-formed, with white skin 
 and red cheeks, then she is kosher through and 
 through for the infant." 
 
 And Abraham went home, still puzzling how a
 
 36 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Gentile woman who had been eating pork all her life 
 could be kosher. 
 
 The quest for a nurse, which began the next morn 
 ing, was not an easy one, in spite of the abundance 
 of material. The mountain villages in which one 
 was likely to be found were as full of hatred to 
 wards the Jews as they were of crosses, images, and 
 wayside shrines. Both these facts made travelling 
 unpleasant and somewhat dangerous for a Jew of 
 Abraham's degree of orthodoxy. He walked a mile 
 along the same highway upon which Channah and he 
 had travelled when they were both impelled by a 
 great desire, and the memory of it all was painfully 
 burdensome. Turning to the right he began the slow 
 climb upward. At every turn of the road he saw 
 some token of Catholic devotion ; each time his eyes 
 inadvertently fell upon a cross, he closed them tightly, 
 and when he was sure that no one was watching him 
 he spat upon the ground. At the edge of the next 
 village he met a'large group of young men carrying 
 heavy bundles upon their shoulders. As soon as 
 they saw him, they began to keep time to his weary 
 steps with a very familiar call, which, in each mean 
 ingless sentence, contained all the hate which existed 
 between Jew and Gentile. 
 
 " Hep, Abraham hep, yon better lively step, 
 Or else we -will be after you, 
 You stinking, dirty little Jew." 
 
 Abraham stepped aside to let them pass, but they
 
 THE KOSHER NURSE 37 
 
 saw a chance for sport, and, dropping their bundles, 
 surrounded him, making escape impossible. 
 
 " What you got to sell, Abraham ? " was the first 
 question thrown at him by the mischievous crowd. 
 
 When he assured them that he had nothing to sell, 
 they began examining his pockets. Not finding any 
 thing, either money or goods, they began the use of a 
 torture very common in that locality. 
 
 "Say 'Jesus Christ/ Abraham," was the com 
 mand. 
 
 Abraham was silent. 
 
 "Say l Jesus Christ,' " more imperiously and 
 slowly the crowd insisted. 
 
 Again silence met their demand. 
 
 "Let's choke him until he does say it," and a 
 strong hand closed upon his throat ; but no sound es 
 caped him, as he fell upon the ground, pushed over 
 by the force of the attack. Then as he lay there he 
 began to plead with the men. 
 
 " You know I won't mention that name if you kill 
 me. Let me go ! I am a poor Jew ; I have not done 
 you any harm ; I am up here looking for a nurse for 
 my child ; I buried its mother yesterday." 
 
 When the men looked into his face, distorted more 
 by past pain than by present fear, they let him rise. 
 "Hey, looking for a nurse, are you!" said a strap 
 ping young fellow. "I know a fine one for you. 
 Suszka Schafranek is her name, and she lives in the 
 house with the big St. Florian painted over the door.
 
 38 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Hey, Jew, you'll be lucky if you get her. She is my 
 sweetheart, the finest girl on the hills around here, 
 and she'll be my wife when I earn money enough in 
 America to send for her. We're off, all of us, to the 
 land where money grows on trees. I left Suszka a 
 little girl to remember me by, and if you get her, Jew, 
 don't let her forget her lover across the ocean." 
 
 The men made way for Abraham, who had now 
 risen with a groan, promising to take good care that 
 Suszka should not forget her lover across the sea. 
 While he yet spoke to them, the bells in the big Do 
 minican cloister below pealed forth melodiously and 
 sweet, and the men took off their hats, crossing them 
 selves as they repeated their prayers. 
 
 The Jew also prayed ; a prayer uttered for the first 
 time long ago, but never more fervently than now, 
 when Abraham said : "Do not I hate them that hate 
 Thee, Jehovah?" 
 
 All Slavic villages are alike ; the cemetery at the 
 edge, the church not far away, and each church 
 crowned by the same shaped steeple. Two rows of 
 straw-thatched cottages, every one of them like its 
 neighbour and each leaning against the other, a big 
 pond in the centre of the village, and a shrine for its 
 patron saint this was Kunova, its name alone dis 
 tinguishing it from thousands of other villages scat 
 tered throughout the Slavic world. 
 
 The perplexing thing which remained in Abraham's 
 mind was, to find the abode of the nurse-to-be. A1J
 
 THE KOSHER NURSE 39 
 
 he knew was that she lived in the house with St. 
 Florian painted over its doorway. To search for that 
 saint would have been torture enough even had he 
 been versed in the Catholic calendar, which of course 
 he was not. 
 
 Never before had his eyes seen so many gorgeously 
 painted images, grotesque figures of all sorts, with 
 mitres and shepherds' crooks. When, finally, he took 
 courage enough to question some one, he was told that 
 the saint for whom he was looking was the protector 
 against fire, and carried a bucket in his hands ; so he 
 felt a sense of joy when he saw that august personage, 
 painted over the doorway of Suszka's house, which 
 was given over to his special protection. The odours 
 of the barnyard penetrated the living room which he 
 entered. Most of its floor and wall space was occu 
 pied by a huge bed, on which, towering to the very 
 ceiling, was one feather bed on top of another and 
 still another on top of those, all covered by a gor 
 geously embroidered sheet. Pictures of various saints 
 of variegated hues hung on that portion of the walls 
 not covered by the bed ; while the furniture, although 
 scanty and crudely made, showed touches of an ele 
 mentary art, possessed by the Slavic people in a great 
 degree, although as yet undeveloped and consequently 
 unspoiled. 
 
 In these surroundings Abraham found Suszka, 
 nursing her own baby, a girl about two weeks of age 
 and about ten times the size of his child. Its cheeks
 
 40 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 were like pin cushions, and the little fists pressed 
 against its mother's breast looked nearly as big as his 
 boy's head. 
 
 Abraham was shrewd enough to say to Suszka that 
 her lover had sent him to negotiate for her services, 
 and although that did not finish the business, it served 
 as a proper introduction. Suszka was loath to go ; 
 first of all because she wanted to be with her baby, and 
 secondly because she did not care to go into a Jewish 
 home, having heard since her childhood that the Jews 
 slaughtered Christian girls for their passover service. 
 Abraham, however, used two arguments very effect 
 ively. " My baby will die if you do not come," and 
 "I'll pay you five ruble a month." Finally, and oh, 
 what pangs it cost him ! but it won for him the vic 
 tory : "You may bring your baby with you and 
 feed it, if you have food enough for both." 
 
 The bargain was made, and Abraham waited for 
 Suszka to make ready to accompany him home. At 
 length she came, her belongings tied in a linen sheet 
 and suspended from her shoulders; while in her 
 arms she carried an equally heavy burden, her own 
 child, peacefully asleep after its abundant meal. 
 Through the village, past the church and the cemetery 
 they walked, Suszka stopping before every wayside 
 shrine and sprinkling herself with holy water wher 
 ever she had a chance; while Abraham closed his 
 eyes and wondered how a nurse with the touch of holy 
 water fresh upon her could be kosher, and how in the
 
 THE KOSHEE NURSE 41 
 
 world his baby could wait to be fed until she had 
 eaten enough kosher meat and soup to change the 
 ritual nature of her food. 
 
 He had his programme planned. Suszka was to 
 have a bath, eat a full meal, and after waiting five 
 hours she would nurse his boy ; but while they were 
 yet a few doors from his dwelling they heard the pit 
 iful cries of the little one. When Suszka came into 
 the room where the child lay in its crib, and saw how 
 tiny and emaciated it was, she took it to her breast 
 immediately ; and as Abraham looked upon her and ' 
 saw that she was strong and had a white skin, a broad 
 chest, and a plentiful supply of milk above all, as he 
 saw his mite of a baby sobbing in her ample bosom, 
 and drinking to its full contentment, he knew that the 
 nurse was kosher for the infant, even as the Eabbi 
 had said.
 
 IV 
 HOW THE LORD CALLED SAMUEL 
 
 THE lilac hedge across the long bridge had 
 been in bloom many a time since Abraham 
 and Channah passed through it on that 
 wonderful spring morning, and many a season the 
 poppies had nodded their heavy heads to the sun 
 flowers as they flaunted their golden petals on the 
 Pany's field, close to where Channah lay. 
 
 Suszka, the Gentile nurse, watched over her little 
 Samuel (for thus he had been named when he was 
 circumcised) as if she were his mother. Al 
 though she had a child of her own and nursed it at 
 the same breast, the curly-headed Jewish boy, with 
 his great black eyes, had gripped her heart even 
 more tightly than had her blue-eyed Anka, the 
 daughter of her faithless, lover, whose "fat letter" 
 from America never came, and who, in that far-away 
 land, seemed to have forgotten her. 
 
 With rare skill and tact did Suszka assume the duties 
 of the household. After the children were weaned, 
 she took her own child to its grandmother, while 
 she remained in Abraham's home, because of the 
 good wage he paid her, the good food he gave her, 
 and, most of all, because of the love she felt for the 
 
 motherless and beautiful boy, Samuel. She mixed 
 
 42
 
 HOW THE LORD CALLED SAMUEL 43 
 
 her Slavic speech freely with Jewish phrases, and 
 never in Abraham's hearing did she call upon the 
 Holy Family for protection, but loudly exclaimed, 
 in season and out of season, "Schma Jsrael!" 
 Hear, oh ! Israel ! She knew, as well as any Jewess, 
 how to prepare meat according to the Jewish ritual, 
 and just when to light the Sabbath candles. She 
 held her boy to his morning prayers as soon as he 
 could mumble the Hebrew phrases, and at night, 
 while she tucked him into bed, she repeated to him 
 the names of the angels for whose protecting presence 
 he asked, according to the Prayer Book. Of course, 
 she went to her own church, and no doubt was freely 
 sprinkled with holy water ; but she never permitted 
 the odour of incense to cling to her, even as in other 
 things she scrupulously avoided giving offense. 
 
 Once a year, during Easter week, she went home to 
 her native village, taking Samuel with her. She 
 would wrap him in a linen sheet which she swung 
 over her shoulders, pass with him over the long 
 bridge, through the blossoming hedges of lilac, and 
 climb the steep hillside. Although he was destined 
 to travel far and cross the seas, those journeys on 
 Suszka's back, when she sang to him and he beat 
 her with a little switch to make her go when she 
 was his horse and he the brave hussar, when she 
 asked him: "Whither are we going?" and he 
 would reply : " To America." Yes, those journeys 
 he would never forget.
 
 44 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 This was his sixth Easter season, and Suszka, 
 dressed in her very best, was going home to see her 
 little girl; Samuel, too, must put on his Sabbath 
 suit and go with her. In her linen sheet Suszka car 
 ried unleavened bread enough for the boy's meals, 
 which included his favourite piece of roast goose, 
 and enough of both to share with Anka, who tasted 
 such dainties only on these annual visits. 
 
 The preceding day had been as beautiful as this 
 one, but Samuel had spent the morning in the syna 
 gogue and the afternoon in the Rabbi's stuffy study, 
 where all the pious men of Kottowin with their sons 
 had gathered to ask and answer questions which 
 concerned the yesterdays of long ago. At night 
 again, before, during, and after the meal, there were 
 long prayers, bitter herbs, and memories of the hard 
 days when Israel was in captivity : all this, while 
 meaningless to the child, oppressed him. 
 
 To-day he walked out over the long bridge, past 
 the toll gate, through the rows of fragrant lilacs, and 
 the birds sang joyously, as the reader in the syna 
 gogue never sang. Samuel did not have to stand stiff 
 and straight, Prayer Book in hand; he might jump 
 into the ditches and out of them, chasing butterflies. 
 Instead of having just damp spots on the synagogue 
 ceiling as material for his imagination, he now saw 
 troops of fleecy clouds travelling along in endless suc 
 cession and variety, and against the solid green back 
 ground of the lilac hedge could be smelled and dis-
 
 HOW THE LOED CALLED SAMUEL 45 
 
 cerned its wonderful blossom, full of spicy fragrance. 
 It was like stepping out of a prison ; for although 
 his father was lenient in everything else, he was 
 strict and scrupulous about religious observances, 
 and they were calculated to shut in the boy's little 
 soul and keep the joy of God's world out. His 
 eyes were early hungry for beauty, and his unawak- 
 ened spirit already thirsted for something not found 
 between the synagogue walls. Those very desires 
 tempted him to commit a great sinj for in trying 
 to reach a sprig of lilac he broke a big branch of 
 it, which now, heavy from its load of blossoms, lay 
 at his feet. 
 
 Suszka's scolding was nothing compared with that 
 which followed ; for the Pany who owned the lilacs, 
 as well as everything else worth owning, was just 
 passing, his gun upon his shoulders and his dogs 
 following him. He looked so angry with his long 
 gray beard and fierce eyes glaring at the little 
 offender, that Samuel thought it was the very Je 
 hovah come from His throne in heaven to punish 
 him. 
 
 "Hey, you hussy," the Pany called out angrily to 
 Suszka, * ' you better keep your eyes on that Jewish 
 fledgeling of yours ; I have a good mind to let him 
 taste a bit of my whip." 
 
 Samuel hid himself in the generous folds of 
 Suszka's stiff petticoats until the anger of the Pany 
 had passed, and whenever thereafter he read of Adam
 
 46 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 hiding himself from the Lord, he thought that he 
 knew just how Adam felt. 
 
 The day was bound to be full of adventures for the 
 little fellow. It was the Christians' Easter day, and 
 groups of gaily-clad peasants passed along the 
 highways, greeting one another with the holy saluta 
 tion : " The Lord is risen to-day " ; to which came 
 the unctuous reply : "The Lord is risen, indeed" ; 
 yet scarcely a man or woman who knew Suszka, 
 passed, without having a fling at her and the boy. 
 " Hey, Jew mother, how are you I Are you not fat 
 enough to be killed for the passover? " was a com 
 mon question thrown at her, while Samuel was ac 
 costed at nearly every step with the same song which 
 had haunted his father's footsteps on this same high 
 way years before: "Hep, hep, hep, you better 
 lively step, etc." 
 
 Suszka scolded to the right and to the left, only to 
 draw new sallies from her friends and neighbours, 
 who thought it part of their religious duty to offend 
 the little boy. No one but he knew how deep was 
 the hurt which they made, how they blotted out the 
 joy of the day for him, how even the broad heaven 
 seemed to shut its gates against him and say: 
 "Don't look at my clouds and far-flying fields of 
 colour, for you are something ugly and mean, which 
 everybody hates ; my beauty is not for you." 
 
 He clung to Suszka' s skirts, no longer daring to 
 skip into the ditches and out of them ; nor did the
 
 HOW THE LOED CALLED SAMUEL 47 
 
 butterflies tempt him to run after them ; and when 
 Suszka stopped before the shrine of the patron saint 
 of her village to pray, he remained by her side, and 
 knelt while she knelt. Both were glad when they 
 passed underneath the sheltering picture of St. 
 Florian, over the door of Suszka' s house ; although 
 even he could not protect against the fire of race 
 hatred. 
 
 Anka received Samuel with much joy, for children 
 have no race-prejudice. She ate his unleavened bread 
 and favourite piece of goose, then took him out into 
 the barnyard, where she showed him the pigs, the 
 calves, and the colt ; for everything had its young. 
 Together, they climbed under the eaves of the roof to 
 see the swallows' nests and the birds darting in and 
 out, preparing their habitation for the season's task 
 of rearing a family, and he forgot the new-grown pain 
 in the joys of the moment. Together, they also left 
 the house and went into the woods to gather violets, 
 then into the cemetery, and, very naturally, they 
 drifted close to the church, drawn by the sound of 
 the organ and the sweet Easter Mass whose solemn 
 but joyous notes wooed the ear of Samuel. 
 
 How wonderful it all was ! How it enraptured him, 
 drawing him with irresistible power into the church. 
 Such splendour his eyes had never seen ; glistening 
 altars, shining lamps, gorgeously embroidered ban 
 ners, priests in splendid robes, acolytes walking up 
 and down altar steps, the tinkling of bells, the
 
 48 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 sonorous voice of the priest, the deep, vibrating tones 
 of the organ ; it fairly overwhelmed the boy, and the 
 two climbed into the gallery and looked down upon 
 the throng, watching the priest coming and going, 
 swinging his censer. The odour of the incense per 
 meated everything, and Samuel was intoxicated by a 
 draught from the cup whose sweet and bitter he was 
 some day to drink. In a far-away, dreamlike way, 
 he felt that, some day, this music would be his own, 
 coming from his lips ; that he, too, would walk up 
 and down altar steps swinging cups of incense ; and 
 the strange Latin phrases, so musical and resonant, 
 wooed him with a prophetic promise that some day, 
 he, too, would speak them over throngs of waiting 
 people. 
 
 It is just possible that the things which happened 
 later, interpreted his vague feelings at this time, but 
 the little child was sure then that some great event 
 had come to pass, that his soul had tasted something, 
 the memory of which would linger long, and return 
 again and again, even with mightier power. Dream 
 ing, he stood among the throng which now left the 
 church. The peasants looked in astonishment at this 
 Jewish child in their midst, not knowing nor caring 
 that he was a kinsman of Him whose Eesurrection 
 filled them with gladness. And he was unmindful of 
 what they said ; he waited until they had gone and 
 still stood, until the priest came, and the acolytes. 
 He was astonished to find that the priest was just a
 
 HOW THE LOED CALLED SAMUEL 49 
 
 man, with a man's coarse face, and that the acolytes 
 were boys who had many a time thrown clods of 
 earth at him. Disturbed by his discovery, he turned 
 abruptly and ran back to the shelter of Suszka's 
 house, where he and Anka alternately played with 
 the young calves and colts, and ate more unleavened 
 bread and goose, until it was time to return to 
 Kottowin. Samuel by this time was tired ; so Suszka 
 wrapped the big boy in her now empty linen sheet, 
 where he was hid from the insulting eyes of the 
 Gentiles, and where he fell asleep, to dream of skip 
 ping calves and gorgeous acolytes walking up and 
 down altar steps to the triumphant notes of the 
 priest's chant. 
 
 When he awoke, his feet were asleep and Suszka 
 was tired of her heavy burden, so she let him down, 
 and as they passed the rows of lilacs he cast his eyes 
 to the ground and ran as fast as he could, until he 
 was safe past the tollgate and the long bridge, and 
 within the Jewry of holy Kottowin. 
 
 After supper he had to go to the synagogue for 
 evening prayers, but he was so restless and turned 
 so many pages of the Prayer Book at once, that his 
 father, losing his temper, struck him severely, so 
 poor little Samuel went home crying ; and crying 
 was put to bed, where he tossed restlessly upon the 
 feathers, and was not asleep when his father lay 
 down by his side. 
 
 " Tateleben (father, dear), tell me, why do the
 
 50 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Gentiles hate the Jews?" he asked feverishly, and 
 with great effort. 
 
 "Be still, my boy, and go to sleep," was all the 
 answer he received. 
 
 " Tateleben, why do you always shut your eyes and 
 spit when you see a cross? " again he asked. 
 
 " Go to sleep, I tell you. It's nine o'clock, and 
 little boys ought to be asleep long ago." 
 
 A short silence followed, and then the watchman 
 passed and blew upon his horn nine times : "Too- 
 hoo, toohoo, toohoo," after which he began to sing : 
 
 " Ye pious folk of Kottowin, 
 Have you to your fires seen ? 
 The Holy Ghost your souls will keep, 
 Now go to bed and go to sleep ; " 
 
 and again he blew nine times: "Toohoo, toohoo, 
 toohoo." Hardly had the sound of the last blast 
 died away when another question escaped Samuel's 
 lips : " Tateleben, who is the Holy Ghost? " 
 
 Then Abraham's anger waxed hot, and he was 
 about to strike the little boy, but hearing the child 
 sob before his hand descended upon him in the dark, 
 the father, instead of striking him, took him in his 
 arms and, pressing him close, covered his hot lips 
 with kisses. Then he tried to hush him to sleep, as 
 he had done many a time when he was a babe. 
 
 But again a question escaped from the brain of the 
 overwrought child : " Tateleben, am I going to be a 
 priest?"
 
 HOW THE LOED CALLED SAMUEL 51 
 
 ' ' Yes, my boy, ' ' Abraham replied ; ' ' you are going 
 to be a priest and wear a silken prayer-mantle with a 
 broad golden border. Your old father has only a 
 cotton one, with a silver border, but when you are 
 thirteen years of age I'll buy you one of silk ; noth 
 ing is too good for my boy. Now, go to sleep." 
 
 " Tateleben," again the lips moved, for the child's 
 mind worked incessantly ; " why do you shout when 
 you bless the people I " 
 
 Abraham did not reply. 
 
 "Tateleben, why don't the priests of the Gentiles 
 wear beards'? " Again no reply from the father. 
 
 " Tateleben, why did the Jews kill the Gentile's 
 God?" 
 
 Still Abraham was silent, pretending to sleep ; but 
 his own brain was busy.
 
 THE AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 
 
 THE nineteenth century had not yet come 
 into Kottowin ; Christians and Jews alike 
 lived in the Middle Ages and were ani 
 mated by their spirit. Neither the Eenaissance nor 
 the Reformation had made any impression upon 
 Church or Synagogue, and both had settled down, 
 securely entrenched in superstition, tradition, and 
 ignorance. What these great world movements failed 
 to do in ages was, however, accomplished almost in 
 a day by a very commonplace institution, usually un- 
 associated with the idea of progress namely, a bar 
 ber's shop. There were no prophets to make straight 
 its way, and no heralds announced its coming ; but 
 two great forces, steam and electricity, preceded it, 
 and in a measure prepared Holy Kottowin for this 
 unholy innovation. 
 
 First came a steam-thresher for the Pany's domain, 
 and when it went puffing down the dusty road into 
 the town it was regarded as if it were his Satanic 
 Majesty himself. At night, when the monster was 
 bereft of its strength, the peasants attacked it and 
 succeeded in reducing it to scrap-iron and kindling 
 wood. 
 
 Next came the telegraph, walking in, as it were, 
 52
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 53 
 
 on tiptoe, doing its work without attracting any at 
 tention, ignoring race and creed by utilizing the walls 
 of the houses of Jews and Gentiles alike ; while 
 neither church nor synagogue escaped from its 
 unholy contact. 
 
 At last came the railroad; it had threatened to 
 come for nearly twenty years, yet had been success 
 fully kept out in one way and then in another, but 
 now it was really here, with its whiz, puff, snort, and 
 bang. It was a tiny little railroad, but it was large 
 enough and strong enough to carry the pious folk 
 of Kottowin far out into the world, as well as to 
 bring the world and something of its spirit into the 
 most secluded spot of the town. It was difficult for 
 the Eabbi to tell just wherein the thresher, the tele 
 graph, and the railroad had affected the piety of his 
 flock ; but he made no uncertain complaint about the 
 institution which had come in the wake of those 
 modern inventions the afore-mentioned barber's 
 shop. Almost opposite the Eabbi' s house, within a 
 stone's throw of the synagogue, over the door of a 
 Jewish dwelling, appeared the symbol of this institu 
 tion a lathering basin of brass the trade mark of 
 the barber's calling. 
 
 The owner of the shop, strange to say, was a prod 
 uct of the town ; but he had early wandered away 
 from it to become a barber and many things besides, 
 in the gay city of Vienna. When he returned to 
 Kottowiu, he brought not only his trade, never be-
 
 54 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 fore practiced among the orthodox Jews of that holy 
 town for the prohibition against shaving is one of 
 the 13,500 laws of the Talmud but he also brought 
 an ancient circulating library, which he installed, 
 and a large assortment of perfectly modern vices 
 which he practiced. 
 
 He created a great sensation when he entered the 
 synagogue for the first time, in his stylish, tight- 
 fitting clothes, and his high hat. Underneath the 
 hat appeared his red curly hair, in two imposingly 
 parted waves, held firmly down by a liberal applica 
 tion of scented pomade. The odour of his perfumes 
 filled the nostrils of the young women in the gallery, 
 making them conscious that a new factor had come 
 into their lives. 
 
 The barber listened to the service in a very per 
 functory way, while he constantly trained his waxed 
 moustache with a little ornamental brush which he 
 deftly handled. He made a complete conquest of 
 the young women, who had never seen his like or 
 even dreamt of such as he, not having yet read the 
 novels he had imported. 
 
 The boys soon became devotees of the shop, and 
 not only had their faces shaved, but their hair cut, 
 according to the latest fashion. When the Eabbi 
 saw them, with their smooth cheeks, waxed mous 
 taches and hair parted in wavy locks, he lifted up his 
 voice and lamented as if the Temple had fallen anew 
 beneath the Eomans' conquering battering rams, or
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 55 
 
 the choice remnant of Israel had been carried into 
 Babylonian captivity. 
 
 Well might the Eabbi weep and lament, for the 
 shaving, the breaking of one law, led to the breaking 
 of nearly all those which interfered with human 
 pleasure and which controlled natural passions. 
 
 Here the youths learned how to roll cigarettes and 
 smoke them, how to wind about gracefully in the 
 latest Viennese waltzes, and many other inventions 
 of this civilization, which help humanity to go more 
 gracefully and more swiftly to the devil. 
 
 Thus thought the Eabbi, who knew all that was 
 going on in the barber-shop and out of it, who had a 
 catalogue of all the books which were for rent, and of 
 all the vices which were practiced there. But, alas ! 
 the devotees of the barber-shop also knew what was 
 going on in the Eabbi' s home, and as each event was 
 critically commented upon, his influence was thus 
 undermined. When his cow sank into the mire on 
 the day of the Feast of Tabernacles, and the Eabbi 
 asked aid for the rescue of the precious animal from 
 the men who were then seeking the solution of per 
 plexing questions of the law, there appeared the next 
 day on the bulletin board of the synagogue the fol 
 lowing, whose author was the barber. 
 
 With measured step and pious mien, 
 Walked the Rabbi of holy Kottowin ; 
 But, as his thoughts the law digested, 
 An anxious throng his peace molested.
 
 56 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 The people cried in highest pitch : 
 " A cow lies floundering in the ditch ; 
 Rabbi, this day of holy feast 
 Say, may we try to save the beast? " 
 
 " To-day," said the Rabbi of Kottowin, 
 With long drawn words and pious mien, 
 " You may not pull her from the mire, 
 Unless you rouse Jehovah's ire." 
 
 " Too bad to leave a cow to die," 
 Continued the people with anxious cry, 
 " A finer cow we've never seen 
 Graze on the pastures of Kottowin." 
 
 "Whose cow ? " said the Rabbi of Kottowin, 
 With quick drawn breath and anxious mien, 
 " Your cow ! " " My cow ? Oh, haste to save 
 My precious cow from the miry grave." 
 
 Ye Judges, Preachers, Rabbis all, 
 Who judge the world since Adam's fall, 
 It seems that when you judge a sin, 
 It matters much whose cow fell in. 
 
 Every man who went to prayers read it ; the small 
 boys learned it by heart, and in its way it wrought 
 as much havoc as a certain historic thesis which was 
 nailed to the cathedral doors of Wittenberg. 
 
 To make matters still worse for the piety of Kot 
 towin, the State ordered the organization of public 
 schools, where profane knowledge was to be taught 
 in the native vernacular, so the influence of the 
 Wonder Eabbi was steadily waning and the spell of 
 the Talmud was losing its power. 
 
 Samuel had long ago been parted from Suszka, 
 who had to leave his father's house, because pious
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 57 
 
 and busy tongues were kept wagging about her re 
 ligious influence upon the boy. She was cast out of 
 Abraham's home almost like Hagar in the long ago ; 
 only she had to go without the child. It is true that 
 she was loth to leave the comforts of that home and 
 return to her peasant hut and hard labour. She had 
 grown fond of the kosher food, for Jewish piety and 
 good eating go hand in hand j but she was most sor 
 rowful because she must leave the boy, whom she 
 loved as if he were her own. The parting between 
 the two was a painful experience, which neither of 
 them was likely to forget. 
 
 When Abraham told Suszka that she must go, it 
 mattered not that she wildly cried, "Schma Jsrael ! 
 Hear, oh, Israel ! " for when her grief really over 
 whelmed her, she also called on " Jesus, Mary and 
 Joseph" a combination of names particularly ob 
 noxious to pious Jews. So Abraham hardened his 
 heart against her tears and against the plaint of his 
 boy, and Suszka went back to her native village. 
 
 A widowed sister of Abraham came to take 
 Suszka' s place a woman of scrupulous piety, who, 
 in order to make the house kosher, scrubbed and 
 rubbed every place that the Gentile nurse had 
 touched. This sister, although pious, was without 
 affection, and as scrupulous Jewish piety unteni- 
 pered by love is particularly hard on little boys, 
 Samuel felt the rigour of the law as he never had 
 felt it before.
 
 58 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Snszka's Christian charity had covered many of 
 the lad's sins of omission ; his prayers had been 
 curtailed by her turning three leaves of the Prayer 
 Book at a time, and the strain of fast days had been 
 relieved by her discovering the first star at the 
 very moment when Samuel was desperately hungry, 
 whether the sun was still shining or not. Now, this 
 was all changed. Early in the morning, in the cold 
 room, he was compelled to say all his prayers by 
 candle-light from fifteen to twenty pages of fine 
 Hebrew print, and then he had to bend his young 
 back to the study of the Talmud. 
 
 Imagine a boy of ten studying a voluminous work, 
 written in a mixture of Semitic languages and con 
 taining comments on the law of Moses and inter 
 pretations of it ; these comments and interpretations 
 commented upon in turn by twenty generations of 
 men who were bound to that work, and who dared 
 not let daylight fall upon the pages they studied. 
 They made this book their pleasure-ground and their 
 battlefield ; here they played with holy themes and 
 struggled with them as if they were balls or bullets ; 
 here were developed faith and doubt, fanaticism and 
 frivolity, rationalism and mysticism, the most solemn 
 truth and the most palpable falsehoods. 
 
 Into the labyrinthine mazes of these teachings the 
 sensitive boy was forced to enter day by day. 
 Questions of divorce, the washing of hands, and 
 what to do with an egg laid on the Sabbath day,
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 59 
 
 were propounded to him questions which he did 
 not understand, or care to understand. 
 
 Only here and there, like diamonds in vast dig 
 gings, did he discover thoughts which echoed in his 
 young soul and which seemed to awaken slumbering 
 recollections within him. Then his mind wandered 
 far from the Talmud to Suszka's village, to Anka, to 
 the music of the Mass. He was usually roused from 
 these dreams by the ungentle touch of his father, 
 and mechanically he would lift up his voice and 
 drone away, repeating sentences whose meaning he 
 did not fathom, and thoughts which were strange 
 to his spirit, and always would remain strangers 
 to it. 
 
 Doubt came very early into his soul, torturing him 
 by questions which neither he nor his father could 
 answer. One day, when his questioning went too 
 close to the marrow of faith, his father told him the 
 story of "Elisa ben Abuja," who, instead of study 
 ing the Talmud, studied Greek philosophy, who 
 carried underneath his coat a copy of Homer, and 
 who finally became a traitor to his faith and to his 
 people. 
 
 " Samuel, my boy " and Abraham said it with all 
 the agony which a father can feel who scents danger 
 to his child " believe, and do not ask questions 
 which no one can answer. Do not be carried away 
 by what you learn in the public school from profane 
 teachers, or you will be like Elisa ben Abuja, who
 
 60 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 was cast out of the synagogue, and whose memory is 
 cursed to this day." 
 
 Then Samuel remembered that on the Day of 
 Atonement forgiveness is offered to every one except 
 to Eabbi ben Abuja, who had asked questions and 
 read Homer. 
 
 The public school, which about that time was es 
 tablished in Kottowin, opened to Samuel new win 
 dows into life, bringing him in touch with a language 
 of culture instead of the corrupt Yiddish, with his 
 tory which had back of it certain facts rather than 
 myths, and with a literature which dealt with life 
 and love rather than with law and duty. 
 
 His full liberation came, however, when he stepped 
 over the threshold of the barber's shop and began to 
 read the novels which he carried home. Yellow- 
 covered and tainted literature it was; the dime 
 novel literature of the day, which stimulated and 
 over-stimulated his imagination ; but at the same 
 time broke the bonds that held him to that ancient 
 prison-house the Talmud. 
 
 He flew through the forest with the robber chief, 
 who carried upon his horse, close pressed to his side, 
 a rich princess taken from her castle. It was not the 
 princess and her agony, nor the ferocity of the chief, 
 which appealed to Samuel ; but he breathed in the 
 atmosphere of the forest, he saw the bending boughs 
 and twined branches which impeded the hero's prog 
 ress. The strength and daring of the man, and the
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 61 
 
 freedom of his life these things stimulated and 
 helped the boy. The poison in it all he did not 
 taste ; for he was yet in Paradise. His sympathy, 
 it is true, was on the side of the robber ; but that was 
 because he was kind to the poor, and wronged only 
 those who could easily spare what he took from their 
 abundance. Samuel read these books at night by 
 the light from stolen candle-ends, which he fastened 
 on to his thumb nails with the drippings of the 
 tallow, guiding the light hither and thither along 
 the fine print until the flickering flame burned 
 too severely. Then in the darkness he would seek 
 his bed and dream of Einaldo Einaldini, an Italian 
 bandit-chief, whose romantic career he had fol 
 lowed, or of Preciosa, a gypsy princess, or of 
 Schinder Hannes, the Eobin Hood of the German 
 forest. 
 
 One night his heavy eyes closed before the candle 
 had consumed itself, and it, too, nodded and fell 
 upon his books, setting fire to them. His father was 
 wakened by his cry of pain, for his hand was badly 
 burned. Then came swift, sure, and terrible pun 
 ishment ; Samuel sobbed himself to sleep, and all 
 through the night he moaned and tossed. 
 
 Abraham did not sleep, for the boy's pain had 
 crept into his own heart, and he prayed the only 
 prayer he could offer that night that his son might 
 be kept from the fate of Elisa ben Abuja. 
 
 The candle-ends were put out of harm's way, and
 
 62 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Samuel stole as many moments as he could, to spend 
 in the barber's shop with the books, in spite of the 
 fact that when his father discovered him there he 
 would drag him out of the place by the ears, to the 
 amusement of the barber's customers. 
 
 One day when Abraham had discovered Samuel in 
 his usual haunt and, giving way to his now easily 
 roused temper, had punished him before the gaping 
 crowd, the barber interfered, pouring upon Abraham 
 the vials of his wrath with as great deftness as if he 
 were pouring hair oil over the head of one of his 
 helpless victims in the barber's chair. His anger 
 had in it all the pungency of the perfumes of his 
 trade, while the sharpness of his tongue was un 
 equalled even by that of his scissors ; for they occa 
 sionally refused to cut his tongue never. 
 
 "Beb Abraham," he began reverently, "you are 
 an old fogy, begging your pardon, and your brain is 
 as muddy as is the creek when the Pany bathes his 
 swine in it. If you think you can make a Talmud 
 scholar out of Samuel, you are a fool as well as 
 a fogy, Eeb Abraham begging your pardon. You 
 can make a Talmud scholar out of a dunce whose 
 brain is like a sponge, but not out of a boy like your 
 Samuel, who has a brain as sharp as steel and as 
 tender as a cherry in June. Your Talmud, Eeb 
 Abraham, is a back number, and less interesting to 
 a boy than are the tables of contents of my novels, 
 and I'll wager that the time will come when a Tal-
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 63 
 
 mud in Kottowin will be as rare as women up there 
 in the Christians' monastery. 
 
 "My novels are not deep, but, bless your good 
 soul, they are not muddy like your Talmud, and as 
 far as the lies in them are concerned, it's six of one 
 and half a dozen of the other. You and the Eabbi 
 would both be better off if you'd read them ; they 
 would refresh your fossilized brains and you would 
 know what life in this age means." 
 
 Abraham, who was still shaken by the wrath which 
 overtook him when he punished his boy, led him out 
 by the ear, calling back to the barber as he went : 
 "You are an Epicurean and an Apostate; you are 
 the ruin of our congregation, and if you are not 
 struck by apoplexy you will be hanged, or will die 
 some other unnatural death. If I find my boy in 
 here again, I'll break every bone in his body ! " 
 
 Samuel, nevertheless, continued his visits to the bar 
 ber' s shop, stealthily, of course, and devoured novel 
 after novel until they had all left their mark upon 
 his impressionable brain. Then he struck the real 
 gold mine of the barber's library, a volume of selected 
 poems from Homer to Heine ; and, although he did 
 not grasp their meaning, he caught their music and 
 the fervour and fire of their passion ; for he was 
 growing old enough to respond to some of their 
 moods. 
 
 Schiller's "^Resignation," which had proved dan 
 gerous to many a youth of his temperament, awak-
 
 64 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 ened anything but resignation in him ; for, when he 
 read : 
 
 " Yes, even I was in Arcadia born, 
 And in mine infant ears 
 A vow of rapture was by natnre sworn ; 
 Yes, even I was in Arcadia born, 
 And yet my short spring gave me only tears," 
 
 he realized how far he was from his Arcadia and 
 how the prison walls of the Talmud and the narrow 
 ing life of Kottowin were closing around him. At 
 such times he would repeat over and over again these 
 lines from Wilhelni Tell : 
 
 "O wherefore stand I here in fetters bonnd, 
 Helpless, while endless passions stir my soul? " 
 
 This book of poetry completely took the place of 
 his Prayer Book, and in the morning he bent over it, 
 mumbling Hebrew phrases ; while his eyes sought 
 the passion and fire of Heine's songs and his mind 
 was being carried along by Goethe's "Faust," down 
 to the depths of hell and up as far towards heaven as 
 he ever rose. 
 
 Such deception had its perils, and the inevitable 
 catastrophe occurred when his father's eyes caught 
 the unfamiliar letters of the page from which he was 
 mumbling the morning prayer. 
 
 All the pent-up sorrow, all the suspicions of years, 
 all the pain of disappointment clutched Abraham's 
 heart simultaneously, and drove the blood to his 
 brain. Lifting his arm, he struck the defenseless
 
 AWAKENING OF SAMUEL COHEN 66 
 
 boy so terrible a blow that he fell and did not 
 rise. Then, in his wild anger, Abraham kicked the 
 prostrate body, and tore the book to shreds, crying 
 wildly, while the hot tears poured over his wrinkled 
 cheeks : " Elisa ben Abuja, Elisa ben Abuja ; I shall 
 go to my grave and have no son to say Kadish (the 
 prayer for the dead), and no Cohen will be left to 
 bless the people. . . . Elisa ben Abuja, Elisa 
 ben Abuja!"
 
 VI 
 DR. ROSNIK PRESCRIBES 
 
 HUDDLED close to the prostrate form of his 
 son, lay Abraham. His sudden anger had 
 stirred the fountain of grief, and like 
 heavy clouds the pain of it all hung over him, un 
 able alike to be dispelled or to express itself in tears. 
 
 "Samuel, my own, my only son, given to me of 
 God; hear me, Samuel, and you will forgive your 
 old father for being so cruel to you ! " He moaned 
 it out, and each word wrung his heart, ready to 
 break from the weight of its anguish. 
 
 Samuel heard his father, and felt the clutching of 
 his nervous hand, but he neither moved nor an 
 swered him ; for a cloud hung over him also, and it 
 seemed to blot out his father's face from him forever. 
 
 " Samuel, answer me, my own golden boy, an 
 swer me! "Won't you forgive your old father, who 
 loves you more than his life who struck you in 
 mad anger, roused by his zeal for the Law of God t 
 Answer me, Samuel ! " and his hands sought the 
 boy's heart to assure himself that it was beating, 
 while his ear was strained to catch his breathing, 
 and then to hear the liberating word of forgiveness ; 
 but although Samuel's heart beat fiercely and his 
 breath came quickly, his teeth were clenched, his 
 
 66
 
 DR. ROSNIK PRESCRIBES 67 
 
 eyes were closed, and the lamentations of his father 
 passed over him unheeded. When his head was 
 bathed in cold water and he was lifted from the floor 
 to the bed, he neither yielded nor resisted. 
 
 The physician who had at once been sent for came 
 at last a pompous, self-important looking man who 
 had long ago ceased living like the Jews, though he 
 was living off them. He always dealt sarcastically 
 with their religious scruples, and never lost an op 
 portunity to hit their foibles a hard blow just when 
 they were most at his mercy and in no mood for 
 argument. Because of this he was cordially hated 
 by those who did not understand him, and was em 
 ployed simply because he was the only physician in 
 Kottowin, and there only by the grace of the State, 
 consequently, not dependent upon the favour of the 
 people. 
 
 "Reb Abraham, good-morning to you!" "With 
 that he lifted his high hat and remained with bared 
 head, which was neither his last nor his least offense 
 against Jewish law and custom. 
 
 " Good-morning, Dr. Rosnik," responded Abra 
 ham, pointing sorrowfully to Samuel. 
 
 "What's the matter with the boy?" asked the 
 doctor. " I suppose he has eaten too many Sabbath 
 beans ; I'll give him some physic. Reb Abraham, 
 you can eat a whole pot of beans and not feel a bit 
 of pain, God be praised for that ! but you are a 
 good orthodox Jew. The present generation can't
 
 68 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 digest kosher food, and Sabbath beans are as hard 
 on our boys' stomachs as the Talmud is on their 
 brains. On Mondays, Eeb Abraham, I have to go 
 from house to house prescribing for the digestion, 
 and on Fridays I am called to the same patients to 
 prescribe for their nerves physic to drive out the 
 beans, and bromo to drive out the Talmud. Judaism 
 makes them all sick, whether they take it into their 
 stomachs or into their brains. Heine used to say 
 you don't know who Heine was, Eeb Abraham? 
 Heine was as kosher a Jew as ever lived ; for al 
 though he was baptized, he was as kosher a Jew as 
 St. Florian ; well, Heine said once that the hospital 
 in Hamburg was for people suffering from three 
 diseases : Bodily ill, old age, and Judaism. He was 
 right, Eeb Abraham, and, to my mind, Judaism is 
 the worst disease of the three, since it is incurable." 
 
 Abraham, interrupting this flow of words, told all 
 that had happened, shamefacedly confessing his mis 
 deed ; and while the doctor searched for some evi 
 dences of an injury he began to speak again in that 
 pompous and sarcastic way at the same time puffing 
 at a cigarette. 
 
 ""Well, this boy, as I told you, is suffering from 
 too much Judaism, even if he isn't suffering from too 
 much beans, and it hurts, as I told you, on the out 
 side and on the inside. A Jewish boy, as soon as he 
 begins to walk, has clods and stones thrown at him 
 by the Christian boys, and when they catch him
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES 69 
 
 alone, they beat him half to death. That hurts on 
 the outside, but he gets used to it ; for all his life he 
 gets mackes (beatings), and a man gets used to every 
 thing, even to niacJces. Now that same boy, the very 
 first day he is old enough to go to the synagogue, is 
 cuffed by his father if he doesn't keep his place in 
 the Prayer Book, if his eyes wander up to the gal 
 lery, or if he begins to count the spots on the syna 
 gogue ceiling. 
 
 "Outside the synagogue, he is cuffed if he grows 
 tired of the Talmud and is caught reading a novel or 
 a poem, something that has flesh and blood to it. 
 Now, cuffs of that kind hurt on the inside, way down 
 deep ; they hurt a long time, and some boys never 
 get over it, if they live a hundred years. Eeb 
 Abraham, you have hurt your boy on the inside. 
 
 " I can't give him any medicine, but I am going to 
 give you a piece of good advice. Send that boy of 
 yours to college and I'll tell you what will happen 
 if you don't send him." 
 
 He paused and looked at the boy, whose face was 
 set like a flint, who seemed neither to hear nor to see, 
 yet whose every nerve was intensely alert. Then the 
 doctor whispered in Abraham's ear, and Abraham's 
 face grew livid from newly-awakened fear, auger and 
 grief. Samuel's features seemed to relax for a mo 
 ment and then grew rigid again as if clouds had ob- 
 Bcured a momentary glimpse of the sun. 
 
 " Doctor, it is easy for you to talk," Abraham re
 
 70 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 plied huskily. "You can send your son to college 
 without fearing that he will become an apostate, be 
 cause he is one already ; you did not even have him 
 circumcised but my Samuel was given me in answer 
 to the prayer of the sainted Eabbi of Cracow, that 
 another Cohen might stand before the Ark and bless 
 the people until the Messiah shall come to redeem 
 Israel and lead the faithful back to Palestine." 
 
 " Eeb Abraham," replied the doctor, giving his 
 sarcastic smile full play; "if that sainted Eabbi of 
 Cracow had been a real live Eabbi well, then I 
 would have said, you are right, Samuel was born in 
 answer to his prayer ; but a dead Eabbi, hmp ! " he 
 shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. "As for 
 your being anxious about having a Levite bless 
 Israel fifty years from now they won't care, even in 
 Kottowin, whether there ever was a Levite, or whether 
 they ever are blessed. The world moves, Eeb Abra 
 ham, even in Kottowin, and it moves fast since we 
 got the railroad, the telegraph, and the barber' s-shop. ' ' 
 
 Then he laughed at his own joke, slapped his knee, 
 lighted another cigarette, and blowing the smoke 
 into Abraham's drawn face, continued : "And as far 
 as the Messiah is concerned, he has come already. 
 Civilization is our Messiah the railroad, the tele 
 graph, and the barber's shop are the Messiah ; that 
 barber's shop has done more to redeem Israel from the 
 bondage of Kottowin than any king who would come 
 riding on an ass. We have too many asses and too
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES 71 
 
 many kings, anyway. And about that going back 
 to Palestine, Eeb Abraham, you would starve to 
 death in Palestine ; it's a land which is flowing in 
 misery and poverty, not with milk and honey. 
 America is our Palestine, and if the Jews go any 
 where they will go to America they are beginning 
 to go there now." 
 
 Then, again feeling the pulse of the boy, he said : 
 " Samuel is suffering from too much Judaism he is 
 hurt on the inside ; send him to Trnava to college. 
 Those teachers will take a good bit of it out of him. 
 
 "You know, Eeb Abraham, that I changed my 
 name from Eosenzweig to Eosnik. I don't go to the 
 synagogue and I eat pork ; yet every Gentile whose 
 tongue I look at to see if he has a fever, calls me, 
 with that same tongue, ' dirty Jew.' I named my 
 boy Sigismund, and had him baptized by a priest ; 
 yet the boys cry after him, 'Hep hep,' just as they 
 do after you. 
 
 " Heine was right ; Judaism is an incurable dis 
 ease. Bodily ills can be cured by physic ; old age 
 doesn't hurt always ; but Judaism can't be driven 
 out by physic nor by baptismal water ; it hurts all 
 the time outside and inside." 
 
 Abraham was violently shaking his head at what 
 seemed blasphemy to him, and at the thought of 
 sending his boy to a school in which secular knowl 
 edge was taught by Catholic priests. 
 
 " You won't send him to college 1 " the doctor re-
 
 72 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 plied to Abraham's emphatic negative. " I have 
 told you what will happen if you don't. How do I 
 know I Listen, and I will tell you. 
 
 11 1 knew a boy thirty years ago whose father was 
 as orthodox as you are, and who thought that the 
 Talmud was the beginning of the universe and the 
 end of it. The boy wasn't six years of age when his 
 father began teaching him the Talmud, just as you 
 did, and as thousands of other Jewish fathers have 
 done. That boy cared as much for the Talmud as 
 any healthy boy ought to care for it, and he hated 
 Eabbi Hillel and Eabbi Gamaliel and the other 
 15,000 rabbis who are quoted in those books. He 
 loved the birds and the trees and the dogs, and the 
 boys who could play ball with him. That father did 
 just what you have done ; he tried to pound the 
 Talmud into the boy, and the more he pounded the 
 boy the more the boy despised the Talmud and its 
 thirteen thousand, five hundred laws ; and the more 
 he loved to run after the birds, and the dogs and all 
 the things that live. 
 
 " One day, instead of studying the Talmud, he was 
 out on the street, and brought home a dog whose leg 
 the boys had broken as they stoned him ; he bound 
 up the leg, and put the dog into his bed. At this 
 his mother pounded him for soiling the bed and 
 ruining her towels, and then the father nearly beat 
 the life out of him for running after live dogs when 
 he should have been studying about dead Rabbis.
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES 73 
 
 That night the boy left home without a kopek 
 walked all night and all day to Trnava, where he 
 was picked up on the streets, half-starved. He was 
 picked up, Eeb Abraham, by a Catholic priest, who 
 wanted to give him food ; but so deep had the Talmud 
 been driven into him that he would have starved 
 rather than eat food which was not kosher. 
 
 "That priest went with the boy from one Jewish 
 home to another, to secure a place where he might 
 eat just one meal each day, one meal each day, and 
 each day in a different house. Eeb Abraham, you 
 know what that means, going from house to house 
 and living on charity charity often grudgingly be 
 stowed. Many a day he had nothing but potatoes 
 and a hard crust of bread, although some days he 
 lived like a prince. He did that for eight years, and 
 during all that time his father didn't send him a 
 kopek, and never wrote to him, nor did he allow his 
 name to be mentioned in his house. 
 
 " The more that boy suffered the more he learned to 
 hate his father and his father's faith, to which he 
 thought he owed all his misery. Eeb Abraham, I 
 have never told that story to anybody, because it 
 was nobody's business. I was that boy, and I tell it 
 to you for the sake of your own boy. 
 
 " You understand now why I didn't have my son 
 circumcised. I did not want to begin to hurt him as 
 soon as he was born, and put a mark on his body 
 which would make him suffer all his life. Baptismal
 
 74 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 water doesn't hurt the body, and about the soul" 
 drumming with his big signet ring on the bed 
 post " about the soul, tra-la-la-la I know that men 
 have bowels, but souls tra-la-la-la. Eeb Abraham, 
 I prescribe for bowels, I have seen bowels j but a soul 
 tra-la-la-la." 
 
 With that he lighted another cigarette, and, blow 
 ing the smoke again into Abraham's face, he con 
 tinued : "I am going to prescribe for your boy now, 
 and the prescription isn't going to cost you a kopek. 
 Give him less Talmud, much less, and let him have 
 more science and poetry, as much as he wants, and 
 then let him have his old Suszka for a while. The 
 boy wants a woman's care and love, and in her ample 
 bosom he will find them. Your sister, Eeb Abraham, 
 is as dry as mazzos (unleavened bread) ; she knows 
 all the blessings in the Prayer Book, but she couldn't 
 bless a boy to save herself. Let him have less Aunt 
 and more Suszka, and, finally, let the boy go to 
 college ; if you won't well, I've told you what will 
 happen. 
 
 ' ' There is no charge for this, no charge let me have 
 my hat ; and, remember, less Aunt and more Suszka, 
 less law and more love ! No, Eeb Abraham, there 
 is no charge for this." And as he went out he con 
 tinued his tantalizing tra-la-la-la. 
 
 When Abraham was left alone with his child, he 
 threw himself beside him and drew the unresisting 
 boy close to his heart. Then the tears began to fall,
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES 75 
 
 hot, heavy tears, drawn from the burning depths of 
 his anguish-stricken soul. The cloud which hung 
 over him seemed to break and pass away, relieved 
 of its heaviness. The cloud which hung over Samuel 
 passed also, for he too began to weep, and through 
 the tears he saw again the face of his father.
 
 vn 
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 
 
 OUT of the stifling atmosphere of his home, 
 Samuel went in the morning before sunrise ; 
 out of the Jews' street, with its heavy smells 
 rising from the gutters, over the bridge and through 
 the toll-gate, where the keeper sat sound asleep, pipe 
 in mouth, with his feet on the closed barrier. Once 
 across, Samuel stood still, breathing in, as if he were 
 hungry for it, the fresh air which came from the hill 
 top and through the pine forest. Then he ran as fast 
 as his legs could carry him, and as the heavy bundle 
 of kosher food which his aunt had provided would 
 permit. He ran for the sheer joy of it, plunging 
 into the air as if it were a cooling bath so good did 
 each breath feel, so joyously did he hail his freedom. 
 There had been serious objections raised to his 
 making this visit to Suszka ; first by the aunt, who 
 was as jealous of her as she was zealous that Samuel 
 should always observe the law to the letter ; and last, 
 though not least, by the Eabbi from whose spell the 
 generation to which Abraham belonged had not 
 freed itself. Samuel, however, had a gypsy nature, 
 as Abraham called it, and when he embraced his 
 father, looking at him with those wonderful dark 
 
 76
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 77 
 
 eyes, and stroking his wrinkled face, he might ask 
 for anything in his father's keeping and get it ; so he 
 was permitted to go. 
 
 It was just before the returning holidays, the 
 twelfth time they would have come since Samuel's 
 birth, and a momentous period in his life, when he 
 was to go up to the temple and dedicate himself to 
 the law. 
 
 He had seen Suszka at long intervals, when she 
 came to market, or on a pilgrimage to the Holy 
 Shrine. She had come to the house often enough not 
 to unlearn her pious ejaculation, "Schma Jsrael!" 
 mindful always not to finish by calling on " Jesus, 
 Mary, and Joseph." She came regularly at Easter, 
 with Anka, her daughter, and always brought a 
 switch, with which she gave Samuel the customary 
 beating, done in memory of the scourging which 
 Jesus received from the Jews ; but of which historic 
 association both she and Samuel were ignorant. 
 They followed the custom as everybody followed it, 
 in a mirthful way, being released only by a payment 
 of eggs, or, on Samuel's part, by an offering of mazzos 
 (unleavened bread) or Suszka' s favourite piece of 
 goose, which he usually saved for her, knowing her 
 longings after the "fleshpots of Egypt." After the 
 beating, Suszka would mother the boy for a while, 
 somewhere in the wood-shed, where neither the father 
 nor the aunt could see them. 
 
 Anka was growing into a woman, and, when she
 
 78 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 came, something sweet and mysterious drew Samuel 
 to her, like his memory of the music of that mass, or 
 the ringing of those bells, when as children they 
 stood in the portals of the village church. Now he 
 was going to his friends for three long days. 
 
 The chirping of the sparrows in the hedge drew a 
 song from his lips, the chant of the Sabbath bride ; 
 but even that, the most mirthful of the synagogue 
 tunes, did not harmonize with his joy or with the 
 joy of nature. Then there came to him, deep out of 
 the hidden recesses of his heart, the first secular song 
 he had ever learned learned secretly in the barber's 
 shop, and which he had never before sung aloud and 
 freely. As his voice rang out, the birds seemed to 
 vie with him, so joyous was his song. 
 
 "The clear, smiling lake, wooed to bathe in its deep 
 A boy, who beside it had lain him to sleep. 
 Then heard he a melody, 
 
 Flowing and soft, 
 And sweet, as when angels 
 
 Are singing aloft ; 
 
 And, as thrilling with pleasure, he wakes from his rest, 
 The waters are murmuring over his breast, 
 And a voice from the deep cries : 
 
 1 With me thou must go ! 
 I charm thee, young shepherd, 
 I lure thee below.' " 
 
 Something seemed to lure Samuel, to entrance him, 
 to woo him and win him ; something far away, yet 
 near enough almost to touch.
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 79 
 
 The spell which held him was broken in a moment, 
 however, as he passed the Pany's house ; for here he 
 always thought of the stern Jehovah, typified by the 
 Pany, who never permitted a Jew to pass his gate 
 unmolested. This time it was his pack of hunting 
 dogs, noses to the ground and tails in the air, bark 
 ing wildly as they charged at their victim and met 
 him just at the gate. Following them, came the 
 Pany himself, a grizzled Nimrod, his face like copper, 
 his eyes like beads, a gun over his shoulder. More 
 than by the grizzled face looking as if beaten over 
 with copper, Samuel was frightened by the gun. He 
 had an instinctive fear of it long before he knew its 
 deadly purpose the fear of hunted generations trans 
 mitting to him the dread of weapons. No rabbit, 
 were it ever so wearied in the race before it, could 
 have felt such dread as his, when he saw the gun 
 and the hunter. 
 
 Beside the Pany walked a monk, from whose 
 spiritual face shone a light which Samuel knew not 
 yet ; but the face drew him as if it were the face of 
 some divinity of which he had read in his forbidden 
 books. 
 
 11 Good-bye, Father Antonius," said the Pany to 
 the monk, who was turning to follow the road where 
 Samuel was being chased by the dogs. 
 
 "Good-bye, my son," replied the monk. "Good 
 luck in the chase ! " 
 
 "No, no ! don't you wish me good luck, Father;
 
 80 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 a monk's good luck is ill luck ; but good luck to you 
 in your chase for souls ! After all, you and I are in 
 the same business I go hunting for rabbits, you go 
 hunting for souls, only hello ! there is some game 
 my dogs have chased up, a Jew boy. Now you'll see 
 some fun." 
 
 With that he aimed his gun at the frightened 
 lad, who was crying at the top of his voice then, 
 lifting the weapon higher into the air, he let go the 
 trigger, while the shot rang out above the barking of 
 the dogs, who were pulling at the boy's bag, smelling 
 in it the food he was carrying. 
 
 The monk ran as fast as he could in his long 
 cassock, chased away the dogs, and putting his hand 
 on the boy's head tried to quiet him. 
 
 " That's just one of the Pany's bad jokes," he said. 
 1 i Don' t be afraid. We seem to be going the same way, 
 come along ; will you tell me where you are going? " 
 He took the boy's hand in his a soft, tender touch 
 it was, softer than any woman's hand Samuel had 
 ever felt. When he told the monk that he was going 
 to see his nurse, he laughed good-naturedly, and 
 said : " You are a big lad to be running after your 
 nurse." 
 
 Then Samuel told him of his mother's death and of 
 Suszka's faithfulness. 
 
 "Ah! my boy, I know how you feel," the monk 
 said tenderly; "I, too, was orphaned as a child" 
 and the sympathy that his voice expressed went
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 81 
 
 straight to Samuel's heart and he knew that he was 
 walking beside a friend. 
 
 The monk then told him of his wanderings as a 
 missionary. He had been in Africa among the black 
 men, had sailed many a sea and suffered many a 
 hardship ; yet one felt that he had remained sweet, 
 serene, and gentle. 
 
 When noon came, they sat down under a tree, 
 which overshadowed a shrine ; and the monk crossed 
 himself and said his prayers. Samuel offered to 
 share with him his bountiful luncheon, and as they 
 ate he told his name and age thirteen next Day of 
 Atonement, when he would become a son of the law 
 and take his place beside his father to bless the 
 people. 
 
 Ah me ! then the good padre drew from him his 
 secret; his clandestine reading, his love of novels 
 and poetry, and his longing for something some 
 thing, which he could not express. 
 
 After they had eaten, they resumed their journey, 
 and the nearer they came to Kunova the more Sam 
 uel realized that he was in unfriendly territory. A 
 group of lads, a little older than he, ran to the monk 
 and kissed his hand, then called out to him : "Where 
 did you get that Jew bastard ? My, how he stinks ! 
 Look at his hands, father ! There is Christian blood 
 on them ! " 
 
 Samuel shrank from the monk as well as from the 
 boys who were closing in upon him, when the same
 
 82 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 gentle voice rescued him from fear; this time the 
 monk was speaking to the peasant lads. 
 
 "Boys, where in your catechism have you learned 
 that you were to be cruel to strangers? Who has 
 taught you that damnable lie that Jews use human 
 blood ? You are committing a mortal sin for which 
 you will suffer in purgatory." 
 
 "But, father, isn't he a Jew boy?" the lads 
 replied. 
 
 "Yes, boys, he is a Jewish boy ; but nineteen hun 
 dred years ago a Jewish boy, just his age, went up 
 to the Temple, as he will go next week, and that 
 Jewish boy is our Saviour over there on the cross. 
 What do you think He will do to you for ill-treating 
 His relative !" 
 
 There was an incredulous look on the boys' faces. 
 "Yes," they said, "but didn't the Jews crucify 
 Him?" 
 
 "Yes, they did, and so did the Eomans, and so do 
 you every day, by your sins." 
 
 Shamefacedly the boys retreated, and Samuel, with 
 out saying a word, walked with the monk into the 
 village towards Suszka's house, where rosemary grew 
 under the windows and where St. Florian kept his 
 faithful watch over the doorway. 
 
 Suszka was delighted to see her boy, while Anka 
 shyly retreated and had to be lured to him by the 
 goodies he had brought. When her shyness had 
 worn off, they went out together and pretended that
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 83 
 
 they were little children again, climbing up under 
 the eaves, watching the pigeons, and then going out 
 into the field to help bring home the last of the grain. 
 High on top of the load of wheat they sat, while the 
 harvesters, old and young, men and women, walked 
 across the fields and through the long village street 
 singing songs of the harvest. 
 
 The scent of the dried grasses among the wheat, 
 the freshness and buoyancy of the air, the love-songs 
 of the harvesters, and Anka's blooming face, with its 
 crown of golden hair, caused Samuel quickly to for 
 get the Jews' street, with its mud, its open sewers and 
 their smells, and even the Talmud lessons, with their 
 entanglement of wisdom and folly. He felt himself 
 transported into another world, until he was rudely 
 brought back to earth by the boys in the street call 
 ing out mockingly, as the two passed by : " Look at 
 the wedding couple, Judas and his bride; he has 
 bought her with the thirty pieces of silver." Then 
 they broke into a rhyme : 
 
 " Anka will marry a Jew, 
 And he will marry her too ; 
 She'll feed him on pork, 
 And he'll make her work. 
 There'll be great ado 
 When she marries a Jew." 
 
 Loud laughter from the harvesters rewarded the 
 impromptu rhyme, and all eyes were fastened upon 
 the children ; while ahead of them and behind them
 
 84 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 the boys and girls marched, imitating a wedding 
 procession, led by the musicians, who alternated the 
 rhyme with the time-honoured "Jew march" 
 "Hep, hep, you better lively step." 
 
 Anka hung her head from the shame of it, and 
 Samuel made ready to slide down from the load of 
 grain ; but it was very high, and his study of the 
 Talmud, while it had made the brain nimble, had 
 left the limbs short and heavy, so that the distance 
 to the ground seemed doubly great, and he remained 
 where he was. 
 
 The wide gateway leading to Suszka's house opened 
 to the oxen with their heavy load, and Samuel and 
 Anka were released. As they passed over the thresh 
 ing floor, Samuel turned abruptly to Anka and said 
 with the breath coming fiercely between his teeth : 
 "Anka, when I am big will you marry me ? " Anka, 
 holding back her wide skirts as if something were 
 about to bite her, laughed derisively and ran from 
 him, crying contemptuously : " Marry a Jew ! marry 
 a Jew!" 
 
 When night came, Suszka and Anka announced 
 that they were going to church, for a famous preacher, 
 a Dominican monk, was holding a mission. Samuel 
 was to go to bed but hardly had they left the house 
 when he, too, followed the ringing of the bells. 
 Through the dark, he found his way and waited 
 until the villagers had gathered in the church. 
 Then, while the evening songs were wafted upon the
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 85 
 
 air, he drew nearer and nearer until he stood by an 
 open door close to the altar where he could see with 
 out being seen. 
 
 The priest in his gorgeous vestments sang vespers, 
 the congregation and the choir joining in heartily; 
 the sights and sounds soon enraptured the sensitive 
 lad. . The orderly service, the beauty and harmony 
 of it all, were so different from the disorderly syna 
 gogue service, that every sound and every movement 
 were a distinct pleasure to him. After the singing, 
 a man in monk's attire, a plain white cassock and 
 black hood, went into the pulpit almost facing Sam 
 uel, who immediately recognized his travelling com 
 panion of the day. The monk's face shone more 
 brightly than it had even when the boy first saw it in 
 the morning ; and when he opened his lips it seemed 
 to Samuel as if one of his forbidden deities were speak 
 ing from Mount Olympus. 
 
 "My beloved," said the monk, "I want you to 
 listen to a word which is written in the Gospel of 
 St. John : ' For God so loved the world, that He 
 gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
 in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting 
 life.' " 
 
 He explained to whom, and just when, these words 
 were spoken ; then, simply and gently, yet emphat 
 ically, he told them the old, yet the ever- new, theme 
 of the love of God and of the sacrifice of that love. 
 
 "And you," he said, "although you are encircled
 
 86 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 by that divine love, still hate those whom Christ 
 loves." 
 
 He then narrated the experience of the morning, 
 the cruelty of the lads towards the Jewish boy, and 
 having heard the incident of the afternoon also, he 
 chided the whole congregation for its hatred of an 
 innocent youth. Having used him as an illustration, 
 he urged upon the people, for their salvation, faith 
 in that Christ who according to the flesh was a Jew 
 and yet was very God. Over and over again he re 
 peated that wonderful text, "God so loved the 
 world," and each time he pronounced it, it went 
 home to Samuel's heart. That was the something, 
 he thought, he had been longing for, and that some 
 thing he resolved to find to find at once and test to 
 the utmost. 
 
 In glowing colours the preacher pictured the bliss 
 of heaven for all those who believed in Christ's love, 
 and the burning fires of hell for those who did not 
 believe and who lived in hate. 
 
 As soon as the monk had finished his sermon, 
 Samuel left the door and waited in the deep shadow 
 of the church wall until the congregation had gone. 
 As the monk stepped into the street, Samuel stretched 
 out his hand, and, drawing him away into the dark 
 ness, told him of the awakened longing of his soul and 
 of his determination not to return to Kottowin under 
 any circumstances. 
 
 When morning came, Suszka looked into his room
 
 THE APOSTASY OF SAMUEL 87 
 
 to waken her boy with the usual "Schma Jsrael ! 
 How lazy you are, Samuel ; " but she found the bed 
 empty and untouched. Alarmed, she ran out and 
 called Anka, to ask if she could account for Samuel's 
 disappearance. Anka told her what had happened 
 in the barn after their return from the harvest field. 
 " And what did you tell him ? " 
 
 "Oh! mamma!" answered Anka. "Do you 
 think I would ever marry a man who crucified 
 Jesus?" and then Suszka thought she knew what 
 had happened to her boy.
 
 VIII 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 
 
 UPON the floor of beaten earth where, thir 
 teen years before, his wife's body had lain 
 wrapped for the burial, sat Eeb Abraham, 
 in sackcloth and ashes, mourning for his son. In 
 perfect silence his neighbours came and went, leav 
 ing behind them such food as might tempt him to 
 eat ; but none of them had sufficient courage to speak 
 a word of cheer in this calamity which was greater 
 than death. Neither did Eeb Abraham dare to lift 
 his head and look into their faces ; for great as was 
 his grief, greater still was the shame which he felt 
 resting upon him. He had become an outcast through 
 his outcast son, and had been made a traitor to his 
 race for having borne and reared so treacherous a 
 child. 
 
 For seven days and nights he mourned, without 
 finding relief in tears or hearing a word of comfort 
 from human lips. For seven days he repeated 
 prayers for the dead, with his lips, but his heart was 
 numb. When the last day's vigil was over, he fell 
 upon the ground, and a cry of agony rose from his 
 lips a cry so bitter and full of anguish that the dogs 
 in the street howled, children trembled from fear, 
 
 88
 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 89 
 
 and the women who were with child prayed that the 
 unborn might be kept from Samuel's crime, the 
 crime of Elisa ben Abuja. 
 
 For two days the women wept, while they heard the 
 unceasing lamentations of the heart-broken father ; 
 but when the morning of the tenth day dawned, some 
 great resolve seemed to have filled Eeb Abraham's 
 breast, for he stepped out into the gray light, even 
 before the Eabbi was in the synagogue. 
 
 He went across the long bridge, through the toll- 
 gate, and between the rows of lilac bushes, which, 
 flowerless, were shivering in the cold of the autumn 
 morning. The chatter of the sparrows and the caw 
 ing of the crows made dismal sounds, where once 
 spring carols had greeted Abraham's ears. 
 
 Then he had gone out to find love's reward, to pray 
 for the son denied him ; now he was going to de 
 mand that son back from the death into which he had 
 plunged. 
 
 The road was miry from the long autumn rains, 
 and wearily Eeb Abraham pressed on, past the Pany's 
 house, towards the great black crucifix. He turned 
 to the right and to the left, and, seeing no one, for it 
 was very early, he closed his eyes, went straight to 
 the cross and lifted his cane high, ready to smite the 
 face of the naked form which hung there. Wearily 
 he poised the lifted cane, then opened his eyes to aim 
 for the downward stroke ; but the cane fell from his 
 hands ; for, as he saw the face, it seemed strangely
 
 90 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 familiar like his own with the same marks of sor 
 row which he had felt creeping over his face. There 
 were red tears upon the cheeks, a crown of thorns 
 was pressed upon the forehead, and upon the naked 
 body he saw the nail-prints and the spear-thrust. 
 
 "Oy, oy, oy!" said Eeb Abraham. "You, too, 
 have your share of suffering, poor image." Then, as 
 if overcome by a sense of sin, for having looked this 
 arch-traitor in the face, he spat upon the ground 
 three times, and continued his journey towards 
 Trnava, the Dominican monastery, the tomb of his 
 son's soul. 
 
 In a narrow cell, on the second floor of the mon 
 astery, Samuel had waited since daybreak for the 
 tolling of the bells which were to summon him to the 
 chapel where the service of admission to the novitiate 
 would take place. 
 
 He had spent a sleepless night. His heart was 
 heavy from yearning for his father, and his eyes 
 were hungry for a sight of the dear face. He had, 
 too, become dimly conscious of the dire consequences 
 which his flight would bring upon his father and of 
 the suffering which he must endure. With such 
 marvellous skill, however, had his soul been wooed 
 and won in the solemn service of baptism, by 
 chants, prayers and processionals, by acts of self- 
 denial and the promise of future sacrifice that, as 
 the memory of all these crowded into Samuel's mind,
 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 91 
 
 he fell upon his knees, overwhelmed by the greatness 
 of the joy set before him. 
 
 The monks had told him over and over again that 
 he had been led by God to the monastery, that the 
 Heavenly Father had favoured him in a way which 
 He had not shown to any of His children, and that 
 he, the son of a Jewish priest, had been chosen not 
 only to save his own soul, but to become the saviour 
 of the souls of others. The monks treated him as 
 though he were some special object of the divine 
 grace, whose presence there shed lustre upon the 
 cloister itself. 
 
 All this produced in the boy a sense of exaltation 
 and consecration which had gripped his soul, and 
 easily overcame the homesickness and the bitter re- 
 inorse which were beginning to make themselves felt. 
 He experienced a new happiness, like that of a 
 soldier who sees before him the flag of his country. 
 He felt ready to vow allegiance to the Christ, and to 
 accept with joy its consequences poverty, fasting, 
 and long night vigils. 
 
 At last came the sound of the bells, though not 
 tolling as was their wont. To-day they pealed forth 
 merrily ; while the deep, swelling notes of the organ, 
 vibrating against the church walls, were swept out 
 through the corridors and wafted into the dismal 
 open, where Eeb Abraham stood, shivering and cold, 
 not yet daring to ring the bell at the locked gate. 
 
 Within the cloister walls a feeling of cheer seemed
 
 92 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 to manifest itself. The silence was not dull and 
 heavy, but palpitated from an undercurrent of joy ; 
 for a soul had been rescued from hell, and was about 
 to be vested in garments of the sacred Order. 
 
 Special permission for this had been obtained from 
 Rome ; for, according to the rules of the Order, no 
 baptized Jews were eligible to membership, and the 
 youngest novice must be fifteen years of age before 
 he could be received into the Dominican Brotherhood. 
 
 The procession formed silently. The ascetic prior, 
 whose parchment-like skin never had relaxed to the 
 joy of a smile, led the way, his face wearing the 
 nearest sign of emotion akin to happiness that it had 
 ever known. The older monks followed, then came 
 the large number of lay brothers, and, finally, Samuel. 
 By his side walked Father Antonius, his friend, his 
 counsellor, and the earthly model after which he 
 hoped to fashion his life. Through the corridors the 
 procession went. To the solemn strains of a chant, 
 it marched across the courtyard and passed the gate 
 which led out into the world, against which it was 
 shut and barred. 
 
 A furious ringing of the bell attracted the attention 
 of the porter, who ran to answer the violent summons. 
 He opened the gate to Reb Abraham, haggard and 
 worn, his eyes aglow from the parental hunger, which 
 in no race is stronger than in that of the Jew. 
 
 "What does the Jew want?" the porter asked 
 abruptly.
 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 93 
 
 " I want my sou 1 " Beb Abraham cried so harshly 
 that his voice penetrated the courtyard ; but there it 
 was drowned by the ringing of the bells and the 
 chanting of the choir. 
 
 " I want my sou, my only son, given to me of God ! 
 The son of my old age ! Give me my son ! " 
 
 As Eeb Abraham met the stern gaze of the porter, 
 he began to plead with him: "O good man, good 
 man, give me my son ! You have so many children 
 of Christian parents ! Give me my son, my only 
 sou 1" 
 
 Sadly and insistently rose the wail of his petition, 
 which was answered by the unsympathetic words 
 of the porter, who assured him that his son was safe 
 in the bosom of the Church, safer than in the bosom 
 of his father. 
 
 Through the open gate came the notes of Psalms 
 and hymns, and with them mingled the wild lamen 
 tations of Eeb Abraham as he pleaded with the porter, 
 who at last promised to speak to the prior as soon as 
 possible. Then he closed the gate. 
 
 In the chapel on both sides of the aisle stood the 
 monks in their white robes, and, led by Father An- 
 tonius, Samuel walked between them to the altar, 
 where he knelt before the prior, who asked with less 
 than his customary harshness and hardness of voice : 
 "What dost thou desire?" To which Samuel an 
 swered : " God's mercy and yours." 
 
 Then the prior spoke to Samuel of the great privi-
 
 94 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 lege granted him, of the joy set before him, of the 
 responsibilities placed upon his young shoulders, and 
 of the obligations which he assumed in taking upon 
 himself the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, 
 as well as the observance of the rules and regulations 
 of the Order. 
 
 When the prior finished speaking, a lay brother 
 brought the garments of the novice, and one by one 
 they were put upon Samuel, while the prior repeated 
 Latin prayers. When the boy stood arrayed in his 
 new garb, the prior said solemnly : "Buried and for 
 gotten be thy past ; that as a new man thou mayest 
 arise in our Holy Order. Therefore, I take thy name 
 from thee and name thee anew Gregorius." 
 
 Silence, deep silence, hovered over all, as prostrate 
 upon the floor, before the prior, Samuel lay in sub 
 mission, his young, impressionable soul enraptured 
 by the magic of the service ; all the human in him 
 benumbed, and all the divine, aflame. 
 
 Outside the gate, an old man stood, chilled to the 
 bone by the cold north wind. He shrieked in his 
 agony, and the silence of the cloister walls echoed his 
 wild words. 
 
 " You robbers ! " he cried. " You child-robbers ! 
 Give me my son, my only son ! Give me my son, I 
 say ! " Then he pulled the bell again and again ; 
 but only the echo answered him. 
 
 At last, after a long time, the porter opened the 
 gate, and by his side stood the prior, cold and
 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 95 
 
 austere. Eeb Abraham sprang at him like a wild 
 animal, and cried again : " My son, give me my 
 son ! " Then, as he saw the stern, unresponsive face, 
 he fell upon the ground, embraced the feet of the 
 prior and pleaded : " Oh, give me my son my son 
 my only son ! Don't let me go to my grave without 
 a son to say Kadish for me, to pray for me after I 
 am dead ! ' ' 
 
 "It is not for me to give you your son," the prior 
 said, showing no signs of emotion. "He is the son 
 of the Church, bound to her by vows which no man 
 can break ; he is Christ's son, to become His min 
 ister, to save his own soul and the souls of men from 
 hell." 
 
 * ( Oh, mighty sir ! " Eeb Abraham implored. ' ' Tell 
 that Christ of yours my sorrow, my despair, and 
 He will let me have my son again. I know He 
 will ! I have seen His face to-day ; it is full of grief 
 like my grief. I know He will understand when you 
 tell Him. Dear, dear, mighty sir, do tell Him that 
 an old man had given to him one son, just one son 
 God took my wife to give me a son, and now you 
 have taken that son. Tell Him ! Do tell Him that ! ' ' 
 
 The prior shook his head and walked away, while 
 the porter shut the gate and barred it. Eeb Abra 
 ham rose from the ground, all bespattered by mud, 
 tears streaming down his pallid cheeks. He beat 
 with his fists against the closed gate, crying out: 
 "Bobbers! Eobbers ! My son, give me my son!
 
 96 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 My only son ! Bobbers ! Thieves ! Murderers ! Let 
 me see my son ! Oh, let me just see my son ! " 
 
 For an hour he beat against the iron barrier until 
 his hands were bleeding, and then the gate was 
 opened. There stood the white-robed monks, and 
 between them walking towards the gate he saw his 
 son, his own son, given to him in answer to the 
 prayers of the holy men of Cracow. His son in a 
 monk's garb, in his hands a cross, his head smoothly 
 shaven, and his face aglow from the joy of heaven. 
 This, his son, came towards him, not knowing that 
 it was his father, and by his side walked Father 
 Aiitonius, who whispered in his ear : "My son, you 
 must choose now between Christ and your father. 
 Eemember what He said : l He that loveth father or 
 mother more than Me is not worthy of Me.' " 
 
 Now Samuel saw his father, who stood there dumb 
 from the anguish of it all. His lips quivered, trying 
 to give utterance to the yearning of his heart ; while 
 his eyes were fastened upon his child. Then a great 
 cry rose from his lips. " My son ! Oh, my son ! My 
 God-given son !" 
 
 The cross swayed in Samuel's hands and fell to 
 the ground as he started forward, ready to leap into 
 his father's outstretched arms ; but Father Antonius 
 lifted the cross and pressed it again into the boy's 
 hands. 
 
 "No man," he said, "having put his hand to the 
 plough and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of
 
 SAMUEL'S CHOICE 97 
 
 God. And Jesus said to those who sought Him in 
 the temple : ' Wist ye not that I must be about My 
 Father's business?' " 
 
 Thus adjured by Father Antonius, Samuel gripped 
 the cross firmly, while he clenched his teeth and 
 tried bravely to suppress the tears. Crucifix in hand 
 he walked towards his father, holy water and the 
 odour of incense still upon him ; while the priests 
 chanted in unison : "The Lord is my light and my 
 salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the 
 strength of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?" 
 "When my father and my mother forsake me, then 
 the Lord will take me up." 
 
 Higher and higher the chant rose, and firmly, 
 without a tremour, the cross remained upheld in 
 Samuel's hands. 
 
 When his father saw his eyes so steadily fixed 
 upon the cross, his outstretched arms sank heavily 
 by his side, and he cried out as he turned his back 
 upon his son : " Elisa ben Abuja ! Elisa ben Abuja ! 
 My son given to me of God is dead ! he is dead ! " 
 
 The gate closed again, the grief -stricken old man 
 staggered home towards Kottowin, and Samuel was 
 led back to his cell by Father Antonius, who fell 
 upon his knees beside him and prayed away the 
 boy's grief for his earthly father, as he made him 
 more and more conscious of the nearness of the 
 heavenly Father. 
 
 Eeb Abraham was a silent man as he walked again
 
 98 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 upon the streets of Kottowin. He spoke to no one, 
 and no one spoke to him. None dared ask him 
 about his son, and his heart grew more and more 
 numb to the pain which never left it 
 
 From early morning until late at night, he pored 
 over the Talmud, breaking away from it only long 
 enough to say his prayers. No matter how much his 
 sister complained, she did not weary him by her 
 worries. He just prayed and prayed and read the 
 Talmud, leaving the rest to God. 
 
 And God took strange care of him. All over 
 Kottowin it was whispered, and the story travelled 
 to the uttermost parts of Poland, that God was send 
 ing His angels once a week to look after Eeb Abra 
 ham's needs. 
 
 Two angels in white were seen in the night, many 
 a time, one tall and the other short ; one was sup 
 posed to be Gabriel, the other Ariel. They brought 
 wood which burned all winter and never grew less ; 
 flour was put into a bin, which never became empty ; 
 upon the gnarled plum trees in Eeb Abraham's front 
 yard grew luscious fruit, such as had never been 
 tasted by mortal's lips, and Eeb Abraham increased 
 daily in piety ; while the angels ministered unto him.
 
 IX 
 BROTHER GREGORIUS 
 
 BEFOEE the gate of the monastery at Trnava 
 stood the carriage of the Pauy. The coach 
 man, generously rotund, was resplendent in 
 holiday attire, even his whip being tied with ribbons. 
 The horses, a matched team of Orlofls, shone in 
 magnificent trappings which fairly sparkled as the 
 sunlight danced upon each buckle and rivet, so 
 brightly polished for this festive occasion. Upon 
 the blandly good-natured face of the coachman a 
 mischievous smile played, broadening into a grin as 
 he talked to his restive horses : 
 
 "Whoa there, Czar! Be patient; pretty soon 
 you'll have all the run you want, and such a pas 
 senger as you will carry, no horse of the Pany's, in 
 my memory, has ever drawn. Whoa there, I say ; 
 Czarina, don't you bite the Czar ; you two carry on 
 as if you were the real thing. No, no, no 1 Can't 
 you stand still a minute while his reverence is put 
 ting on his toggery ? A Jew monk ! Did you ever 
 in your life ? Ha, ha, ha ! Well, well ! Did you 
 ever ? Whoa there ! I bet those Jews in Kottowin 
 are as crazy as bed-bugs when the house is on fire 
 br-r-r ! Stand, you Czar ! Dog's blood ! That will 
 be a show to-day 1 A Jew monk preaching in the 
 
 99
 
 100 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 morning, a Jew baiting to-night : a fine programme 
 the Pany has arranged ! Whoa there ! I wonder 
 whether the monk will still stink like a Jew." 
 
 Hardly had these unholy words been uttered, when 
 a monk opened the gate and the Pany appeared, hat 
 in hand, reverently bowing ; while the prior of the 
 monastery, an ascetic, shrivelled monk, whose eyes 
 alone seemed alive, so sharp and penetrating were 
 they, followed, accompanied by a young monk, in 
 the spotlessly white robe of the Dominican Order. 
 
 The young monk was of medium height. His 
 black cape made a splendid background for a large 
 head, whose mass of dark, wavy hair circled like a 
 wreath the smoothly-shaven crown. His lustrous 
 black eyes, beneath the high forehead, seemed to 
 look deep into hidden things, yet rested keenly on 
 objects that were around and near him. 
 
 He greeted the world which now opened to him 
 with a genuine smile, which seemed to come from 
 his innermost soul, even while a tinge of sadness 
 about the lips strove with the smile, giving his face 
 that play of light and shadow which one so often sees 
 in men with a deep purpose in life. 
 
 "Praised be the Lord Jesus Christ!" the coach 
 man said. 
 
 "Throughout eternity, amen!" was the answer 
 given by the young monk, and the words were 
 spoken as though he meant them, and not as one 
 speaking a part.
 
 BEOTHER GEEGOEITTS 101 
 
 The prior stepped into the carriage ; then : " Your 
 reverence first," the Pauy said to the monk, as 
 politely as he could say it without betraying his 
 real feelings. 
 
 "And now drive like the devil ! " he shouted to 
 the coachman on the box, as he loosened the reins 
 of the Orloff horses, which, lifting their feet high 
 and in perfect unison, stormed away, down the hills 
 and up again, through one village and then another, 
 towards the main road which led to Kottowiu. 
 
 The thoughts which passed through Brother 
 Gregorius' mind travelled even faster than the 
 horses. Over this road he had gone afoot, fourteen 
 years ago, a despised " Jew boy" ; now, an ambassa 
 dor of Jesus Christ, he was driving in the Pany's car 
 riage to celebrate his first Mass. Fourteen years, 
 fourteen sheltered years, and each day like the other ! 
 The rising bell ringing at half-past three in the 
 morning, at half-past four prayers in the common 
 chapel until six ; another Mass, and then the menial 
 work of his cell. At seven o'clock breakfast, from 
 eight to nine prayers, from nine to ten listening to a 
 sermon or lecture, and, at a quarter past eleven, 
 prayers in the chapel. At noon, dinner, after dinner 
 rest until half- past one, prayers until three, from three 
 to four another sermon, from four to five a lecture on 
 the life of St. Dominic, at six o'clock litany, from a 
 quarter past six until seven prayers, at seven o'clock 
 supper, at eight o'clock silent meditation, then the
 
 102 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 cell and his narrow bed this had been his daily 
 routine in the monastery. 
 
 At last, after a year of such preparation, came the 
 Latin school, which relieved the monotony of his life 
 and made it bearable ; then came his examinations 
 and ordination, and now his first Mass. 
 
 Fourteen long years outwardly methodical and 
 peaceful ; inwardly full of rebellion, of struggle and 
 final submission ! Had it not been for Father 
 Antonius, and for his constant admonitions and his 
 saintly life, the walls of the monastery could not have 
 held Samuel. 
 
 "My boy, the years seem long and the process of 
 attaining seems hard ; but, remember what is before 
 you an heroic life in the service of God." 
 
 This chance to be heroic, to spend his life in the 
 service of humanity, was Samuel's pole star and his 
 goal. Now the goal was reached ; he would pro 
 claim that wonderful truth of salvation to men, and 
 save them, ah, save them ! All the pain which his 
 father must have borne all the agony of the separa 
 tion, which over and over again had wrung his own 
 heart, were swallowed up in the thought of salvation, 
 salvation for his father and his kinsmen. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, other thoughts came crowding 
 now as they had not come before. Each breath of 
 that April morning awakened new life in him and 
 assaulted every slumbering nerve. His father's face 
 haunted him, as it had looked the last time he saw
 
 BEOTHEE GEEGOEIUS 103 
 
 him before the cloister wall when he had to choose 
 between his father and the Christ. He chose the 
 Christ had he chosen well? Was it worth while, 
 after all, to have heaped shame and agony upon the 
 head of his father, for the sake of this, for the sake 
 of the cassock and the cross? Was the world he had 
 chosen a larger world than the world of the Talmud 
 which he had deserted? Were not the Fathers 
 whom he had studied only Eabbis after all ? What 
 had become of his Greek divinities, of Schiller, with 
 his passion for freedom, of Heine, and his desire for 
 love? 
 
 From the last hilltop which the horses climbed, he 
 could see from afar the holy town of Kottowin. 
 Yonder were the church and the monastery, the 
 broad market space, the schoolhouse ; then the seven 
 shining minarets of the Temple, to which his heart 
 was drawn ; while his eyes eagerly sought the irregular 
 line, formed by the muddy stream on the bank of 
 which stood his father's home. Unbidden, the tears 
 came to his eyes and remorse began to gnaw at his 
 heart as never before. He was disturbed in his pain 
 ful reverie by the sound of guns, and as the car 
 riage turned into the road where the Pany's domain 
 began, he saw groups of festal-clad maidens strewing 
 flowers on the dusty highway in honour of his com 
 ing, while the town-band blew upon its instruments 
 discordant notes of acclaim. Church banners waved 
 around him, and he could not fail to see that Kot-
 
 104 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 towin was giving him a most royal welcome. While 
 other monks and priests who had come for the 
 Primiz, as this first Mass is called, had received a 
 formal welcome, Christian Kottowin to-day had out 
 done itself more to spite the Jews, however, than to 
 honour him although that he did not know. 
 
 Between the rows of lilacs the carriage was drawn 
 to the toll-gate, where the peasantry of the neigh 
 bourhood had gathered from all the villages round 
 about to be witnesses of the occasion, the like of 
 which was unknown in the annals of the region. 
 
 Close by the toll-gate stood two women, one of 
 whom the monk knew. She stretched out her arms 
 to him, and stopping the carriage he embraced her, 
 laying his head for a moment on her bosom the 
 only mother's breast he knew. Ah ! How the 
 warmth and the sweetly human odour recalled again 
 the olden times, those golden times when she carried 
 him to Kunova wrapped in her linen sheet. He 
 almost expected to hear her say : " Schma Jsrael ! " 
 Oh, he had been hungry many years or that kiss, 
 which she now gave him. 
 
 Two questions fell quickly from his lips : " How 
 is my father?" But she did not answer; only 
 turned aside to hide her tears. "And Anka?" 
 There she stood herself, a full grown woman a 
 peasant woman ; her features beautiful, though irreg 
 ular. Yes, he recognized the face he knew so well, 
 now perfected by the glow of womanhood. For one
 
 BEOTHEE GEEGOEITJS 105 
 
 moment he looked full into her face, the first time in 
 fourteen years that his eyes had lingered upon the 
 face of a woman ; and then, his own flushed by an un 
 holy warmth, he returned to the carriage, and the 
 triumphal procession proceeded. 
 
 Now they crossed the bridge and passed the out 
 lying barns ; but were they going to take him through 
 the Jews' street and past the synagogue f Oh ! Why 
 was this done? The band played its loudest, the 
 guns boomed their welcome, the banners were flying, 
 and on through the Jews' street they went. It looked 
 like the street of the dead. Each door was heavily 
 barred, the curtains everywhere were drawn to the 
 bottom of the windows, and the shops were all closed 
 and silent ; not even a Jewish child was left on the 
 street to witness this triumphant entry of one of its 
 own. No curtain was lifted, no door was opened ; 
 even the barber's shop was closed and the brass 
 basins were draped in mourning. 
 
 Now they were passing the synagogue ; why do 
 they drive so heart-breakingly slowly ? 
 
 " Go on, coachman, drive on, for Heaven's sake ! " 
 he cried ; but the coachman gave no heed and slowly 
 the carriage moved past the iron gate through which 
 he had gone so often, so often beside his father. All 
 his unhappy childhood now glowed as from a halo, 
 and he would gladly have borne it over again, so 
 sweet did the past seem, albeit so full of trouble and 
 pain.
 
 106 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 "Don't stop, coachman! For God's sake drive 
 on I" But the band had halted in front of the 
 temple and it played, oh, agony ! it played the "Jew 
 march ! ' ' 
 
 "Father," he turned to the prior, "why do you 
 torture me in this way? I did not want to come 
 here ! I came only because you commanded it ! 
 Please make this misery short ! If they do not drive 
 on, I shall jump from the carriage and walk ! " 
 
 The prior extended a restraining hand as he re 
 plied : "Be patient, my son, be patient ! This is all 
 the trial of your obedience and of your faithfulness." 
 
 At last the band stopped playing, the procession 
 moved again over the market-place, crowded by the 
 gorgeously clad peasantry and the more soberly at 
 tired citizens. The bells rang deafeningly, the guns 
 continued to roar, and after what seemed endless 
 ages, the church was reached ; and into its semi- 
 darkness the monk entered as into a city of refuge.
 
 "MACKES" 
 
 THE sacred edifice proved no city of refuge. 
 The calm and the peace which usually came 
 to Brother Gregorius when in the sanctuary 
 did not now enter his heart. He prostrated himself 
 before the great crucifix in the vestibule, but as he 
 rose he saw the Christ face looking pitiably sad and 
 old. 
 
 It was a wrinkled face, yet through the wrinkles 
 shone something human, something familiar, as 
 though it were the face of his own father. The lips 
 seemed to move painfully, saying hoarsely and re 
 proachfully : u Oh ! my son, why have you brought 
 this upon me? Oh ! Why have you done this!" 
 Then the whole church seemed to revolve around 
 him, while each one of the apostles in stone and 
 every saint upon the canvases, looking strangely 
 Jewish and full of an historic sadness, seemed to 
 say : "Oh, Samuel, why have you done this? Why 
 have you done this?" 
 
 When at last he reached the sacristy and was 
 robed in the garb of the priest, he felt as if some 
 stranger wore it, as if he were looking upon a man 
 who was about to perform an act which he ought 
 
 107
 
 108 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 not to perform, and vainly he strove to dissuade the 
 man from it. 
 
 As he stepped before the altar, followed by the 
 assisting priests, he heard the pealing of the organ, 
 and the ringing of the bells. Then he turned and 
 looked over the congregation ; but all he could see 
 was the copper-coloured face of the Pany, while 
 every man and woman seemed to grin and leer like 
 the Pany. The old fear took hold of him, and it 
 seemed as if the Pany were lifting his gun, and that 
 all the men and women around him were dogs ready 
 to snatch him ; while above the snarling and whining 
 he could hear the boom of that gun. The roar of it 
 filled his ears, women fainted, children screamed, 
 and the men pushed for the door. Then the church 
 seemed to fall in upon him and darkness came 
 down upon all. 
 
 When he opened his eyes, he looked into the face 
 of Dr. Eosnik, who whispered to him: "Go ahead 
 and quickly say the Mass, or something terrible will 
 happen ; some one shot at you a moment since, but 
 you are not hurt. Show them that you are not hurt, 
 Brother Gregorius." 
 
 Then Brother Gregorius felt as if a mighty rush 
 of blood were coming back into his heart, and with 
 out hesitation he began to say Mass. 
 
 The ceremony which he performed was to him like 
 the real dying of the Lord, and he felt as if he him 
 self were on the cross, and that a spear had pierced
 
 "M ACRES" 109 
 
 his side. No triumphant gladness filled his heart, no 
 matter how loudly the choir sang the Kyrie Eleison, 
 no matter how red the face of the half-drunk organist 
 grew in the effort to make his instrument give forth 
 its jubilant notes. 
 
 All Brother Gregorius felt was the broken body 
 and the spilt blood. The miracle of trausubstantia- 
 tiou had taken place, but the Lord was dead in his 
 own heart, buried in the tomb. 
 
 At last it was over . . . again the procession 
 formed, banners waved to the breeze, the drunken 
 peasants and the blatant band fell into line as best they 
 could, while at his earnest command he was driven 
 by a way which did not lead through the Jews' street, 
 to the Pany's house, where he was to be the guest of 
 honour at a dinner to which the local and neighbouring 
 clergy, as well as the dignitaries and officials of the 
 town, had been invited. 
 
 He retired to a room to be alone with his thoughts, 
 as became a priest and monk who had just performed 
 his first sacred rite. He fell upon his knees, reciting 
 psalm after psalm and prayer after prayer ; but none 
 of them brought him the quiet, or the mastery which 
 he had gained over himself in the hard school of the 
 cloister all he could see was the crucified Christ, 
 with his father's agonized face. At last, through 
 tears, peace came, and he felt as if his father were 
 again creeping close to him and wooing him back to 
 himself, as on that day so long ago. Stretching out
 
 110 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 his arms, he cried : " Oh, father ! Dear, dear father, 
 why have I brought this sorrow upon you?" 
 
 At five o'clock he was summoned to dinner, and as 
 he entered the dining-room all the priests except the 
 prior arose and paid him the deference due him on 
 this memorable day. 
 
 The Pauy had been lavish in providing for the 
 feast. All the delicacies of the river's depths and of 
 field and barn had been sacrificed for the occasion ; 
 wine flowed freely, and the copper-coloured face of the 
 Pany shone above the florid faces of the monks, who 
 did not stint themselves in partaking of either the 
 solids or the liquids. They made an art of eating 
 and drinking, and had mastered all the refinements 
 of that art. They knew how to make the most of 
 each fine morsel of food, even as they knew where in 
 the anatomy of fowl or fish it was located. 
 
 The smacking of their lips grated on Brother 
 Gregorius, and the odour of the wine sickened him. 
 For two long hours the feasting continued, and then 
 toasts innumerable were drunk to the health of the 
 young monk and of the prior, to St. Dominic and all 
 the patron saints, and last of all to the host. 
 
 When the Pany rose to reply to his toast, he could 
 scarcely stand erect, and his beady eyes swam as in a 
 sea of fire. " I am a friend of the clergy, everybody 
 knows that," he said. " I always have a prophet's 
 chamber for them in my house and a place at my 
 table under which they may put their consecrated
 
 "M ACRES" 111 
 
 bellies" . . . then he laughed, and the tipsy 
 priests laughed also. " Jolly good fellows the priests 
 are ; but the monks can beat them all to pieces ! The 
 monks when they come to my house eat as if they 
 would burst, and they drink like fish. Abstinence 
 does that ! Yes, abstinence does that ! 
 
 "To-night this house is honoured as never before, 
 by a monk who'll beat not only the priests but all 
 the monks. The Jews can beat even the deviL" 
 
 At this the prior, who sat next to the Pany, pulled 
 him by the coat, but he again said : " The Jews beat 
 the devil, although to-day the devil is going to beat 
 the Jews ; for the devil hates the Jews ... no dis 
 respect to you, your Eeverence." He turned towards 
 Brother Gregorius, who had risen from his seat, 
 trembling from anger. 
 
 ''You're not a Jew, you're a Dominican monk, 
 . . . great honour . . . his Holiness the Pope 
 had to give his permission to make you a monk, for the 
 monks themselves don't love the Jews; they're afraid 
 of them as much as the devil is. And I guess the 
 Jews don't love the monks, for if they do, why should 
 they want to kill our noble convert? Damned poor 
 shot it was, more's the pity ; but they haven't stopped 
 shooting yet. The devil's going to beat the Jews to 
 night." 
 
 Brother Gregorius had stepped close to the Pany, 
 looking into his face, as he might have looked into 
 the face of a snake. Then turning to the prior and
 
 112 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 to the priests, he tried to speak but could not. In 
 his rage he tore the cross from his bosom and threw 
 it upon the floor, crying : "If you are Christian 
 priests, and this is a Christian home, then I am a Jew 
 a Jew, do you hear I A Jew ! Oh, if that bullet 
 had but struck me ! Why didn't it strike me ? Oh, 
 Pany ! You hired a poor shot to do your killing ! 
 But, remember, Prior, you who have stolen my years 
 and my youth, that I am a Jew, a Jew ! And 
 that I am going home to suffer with the Jews their 
 shame and their ignominy ! " 
 
 Far flung upon the floor lay the cross, the cross 
 given to him by Brother Antonius ; and as Brother 
 Gregorius remembered his saintliness and brotherli- 
 ness, he picked it up, and, kissing it, said : " Oh, 
 Christ ! It is not Thy fault ! Oh, no, it is not Thy 
 fault ! 
 
 As he ran from the house the priests tried to follow 
 him, but he was swifter of foot and steadier, so, ere 
 he realized it, he was upon the bridge. Hardly had 
 he run across it than he heard roars of laughter 
 and drunken revelry. Beaching the Jews' street, he 
 found it full of excited, drunken peasants and the 
 citizens of Kottowin, all roaring at the top of their 
 voices : " Kill the Jews ! They have tried to kill 
 the monk, our precious Jew monk ! " 
 
 Bang ! One window went crashing, then another, 
 the doors of shops were broken down and the rabble 
 dragged out the goods, scattering them on the pave-
 
 "MACKES" 113 
 
 ment. Men, women and children ran helplessly out, 
 only to be beaten down ; and, rising, they ran again, 
 all of them towards the synagogue. 
 
 " Ho, here's a likely wench ! " cried a young copy 
 ist from the judge's office. "She is kosher, you 
 bet" . . . but he had not time to approach her 
 before he lay sprawling upon the ground, felled by the 
 crucifix of the monk. 
 
 " Dare to touch her, you animals, you beasts ! '' 
 he shouted at them as loudly as his parched throat, 
 almost sealed by rage and the shame of it all, would 
 let him. . . . "Dare to touch her, you barbar 
 ians, who call yourself by Christ's name, and I'll 
 brain you, one after the other ! " 
 
 Cowering behind him was the girl. "Bun!" he 
 told her, and she ran, he shielding her with his back 
 and with the uplifted crucifix, until he heard the iron 
 gate of the synagogue open and shut, and knew that 
 she was safe. 
 
 "Burn down the Jew town !" cried the drunken 
 organist, and scarcely had the word been spoken 
 when fire leaped up the thatch of one house, then on, 
 to another, and as the flames swept along, crackling 
 and hissing, the mob roared the louder. The aged 
 and the sick ran out of the houses like rabbits driven 
 from their burrows, only to be beaten by the mob 
 and spit upon as they lay helpless in the road. 
 
 Vainly did Brother Gregorius implore the mob to 
 desist ; for, although he succeeded in shaming and
 
 114 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 calming a few men, the madness of all broke out 
 again in another group, and the pillage and the 
 beating increased, while the fire leaped from roof to 
 roof, until, carried by the rising wind, the flames ap 
 proached his father's house. 
 
 Without hesitation, Brother Gregorius flung him 
 self against the locked door, and then he heard his 
 father's voice pitifully wailing: "What do you 
 want f Do you want to kill me ? I have done you 
 no harm 1 Leave a poor sick man alone ! " 
 
 " Father," Samuel cried, "open! It's your son ! 
 Open ! For Heaven's sake, open 1 " 
 
 " My son ? I have no son. My son, my poor son, 
 given to me of God, is dead, dead, dead long ago ! " 
 
 The fire leaped upon the roof of the house, while 
 the mob came nearer and nearer. Again Samuel 
 flung himself against the door, with the strength 
 lent him by despair ; he burst it open, and, throw 
 ing himself down before his father, cried like a child, 
 begging him to follow him. 
 
 "My son is dead!" was all the answer he re 
 ceived. "Dead, dead long ago ! My son, given to 
 me of God, is dead ! " 
 
 The room was filling with smoke, and Samuel, 
 lifting the helpless old man in his arms, carried him 
 out, through the thick of the mob, crying as he 
 went: "For Christ's sake, make way!" but the 
 mob followed him to the temple gate, where he de 
 posited his burden, calling as loudly as he could:
 
 "MACKES" 115 
 
 "Open the gate for Eeb Abraham ! Open the gate ! 
 For God's sake, open it quickly ! " 
 
 The noise of the rabble, silenced for a moment, 
 grew louder and louder, and again his piercing voice 
 cried : "Open the gate for Eeb Abraham ! " 
 
 After a long time, while the crowd was closing in 
 upon him, the beadle came with his bunch of keys, 
 opened the gate carefully to admit the old man, then 
 flung it shut in the face of the monk. 
 
 " This is no place for renegades ! " the beadle 
 shouted into Samuel's ears, as he stood before the 
 locked gate with his back to the mob, which took up 
 the cry : " Eenegade, the Jew monk has turned ren 
 egade ! " 
 
 Then Samuel faced the people and flung words of 
 anger at them, while they came closer and closer, 
 calling: "Eenegade Jew! Eenegade! Kill him; 
 he is a Jew in monk's clothing, and he is going to 
 sell the Lord to the Jews ! " 
 
 A lame locksmith, whom he had known from his 
 childhood, lifted an iron rod ready to strike him. 
 
 "Strike," he said, lifting the shielding crucifix 
 over his head, "and it will not be the first time nor 
 the last that you have stricken your Lord." 
 
 The uplifted rod came down and struck the 
 crucifix, which flew from his hand and into the 
 window of the synagogue. The crash roused anew 
 the fury of the mob ; stone after stone followed the 
 cross into the synagogue through the windows ; Sam-
 
 116 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 uel turned his back to the wave of rage which caine 
 towards him with irresistible force. Stretching his 
 arms across the barred gate, and grasping with both 
 hands the iron posts on each side of it, he withstood 
 for a time the pressure of every renewed attack. 
 
 Within the synagogue, the wailing and lamenta 
 tion changed into piercing shrieks, which, coming 
 through the broken windows to the ears of the Gen 
 tiles, incited them to more violent action. The pres 
 sure against the monk increased every second, the 
 gate yielded, and the mob surged in over his pros 
 trate body.
 
 XI 
 GENUS AMERICANUS 
 
 f ^\HE big black cross which stood at the edge 
 of the town between the bridge and the 
 
 -* toll-gate, and which had been erected when 
 the peasants were freed from serfdom, was especially 
 obnoxious to the Jews, for it faced their street, 
 obtruding itself upon them the first thing in the 
 morning and the last thing at night 
 
 It was shaded by an old acacia tree, the gnarled 
 and angular branches of which seemed to be part of 
 the body of the Christ, whose carved, gigantic image 
 hung upon the cross. In the shade of that tree, way 
 faring men rested on their way to the holy town of 
 Kottowin and from it, while the popular superstition 
 made it at night the battling ground of devils, 
 witches, and other gruesome folk. 
 
 The gray morning formed a pallid background 
 for the lurid light upon the sky, thrown there by the 
 fire in the Jews' street, and still lingering ; although 
 the last straw- thatched cottage in that quarter was 
 reduced to ashes. 
 
 Under the shadow of the cross lay Brother Grego- 
 rius, with torn cassock, bleeding body, and a despair 
 ing, almost broken, heart waiting for the daybreak. 
 Waking from a stupor-like sleep, his eyes rested 
 
 117
 
 118 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 upon the cross. The body of the Christ seemed to 
 writhe as if a new death agony filled it, and again 
 the drawn face, so unspeakably sad, looked like the 
 face of his father. Again he fancied that the lips 
 moved, saying : " My son, my only son, given to me 
 of God, why have you done this to me? " 
 
 He drew himself into a kneeling posture, pain 
 racking his body and still more his heart. Crawling 
 close to the cross, he cried out: "Oh, father, dear 
 father, forgive me ! Oh ! forgive me ! Christ, Christ, 
 what have they done in Thy name ? Poor Christ ! 
 Poor father ! Oh, Christ, Thou art dead, dead, else 
 Thou wouldst smite them with the rod of Thine 
 anger, as did Thy Father when they killed the 
 prophets ! Thou art an impotent Christ ! " 
 
 The painted tears on the Christ face seemed to 
 grow vivid, like liquid fire, and roll down upon the 
 naked body, leaving a scar wherever they touched it. 
 
 "Does it hurt Thee, Christ 1 !" Brother Gregorius 
 asked in his delirium. ' ' Oy, oy, oy ! It does hurt ! ' ' 
 and he wiped the blood drops which came trickling 
 down from his own forehead. 
 
 " The fire burns, oh ! how it burns inside ! I'll 
 get Thee some water, Christ, to put out the fire," 
 and he began crawling towards the creek ; but his 
 strength left him, and he lay there, seeing nothing. 
 A black curtain seemed to shut out all the black 
 world. 
 
 He heard the sound of footsteps hurrying over the
 
 GENUS AMEEICANUS 119 
 
 dusty road ; then came the rolling of a carriage over 
 the bridge, and it seemed to him as if it thundered, 
 and when it stopped a man bent over him, and he 
 could feel skillful fingers moving about his body, 
 while a warm hand was laid across his heart. 
 
 "Oy! oyl oy!" the man said. "You have got 
 mackes. Baptism and a monk's cowl didn't save you 
 from the mackes. The fact is, you have taken too 
 big a dose of Christianity." While the man was 
 speaking, or rather chanting, the words, as if he 
 were studying the Talmud, he was trying to revive 
 the monk by forcing between his lips a powerful 
 cordial. It was Dr. Eosnik, who had been busy all 
 night binding the wounds of Jews and Gentiles 
 alike. 
 
 ''Oy! oy 1 oy I" he continued. "What macJceal 
 What mackes ! Eight over the bald spot they made 
 for him, he has the biggest blow ; if he had saved his 
 hair instead of shaved it, he couldn't have been 
 hurt so much. If he hadn't taken Christianity so 
 seriously, he might now be sitting in his easy-chair 
 smoking a pipe and drinking his morning coffee." 
 
 Then the monk awoke, and, when he saw the 
 doctor, memories of the past overwhelmed him, and 
 he tried to hide his face, suffused by tears. 
 
 "Don't be a child, Samuel ! Pardon me for call 
 ing you by your Jewish name. You are not so much 
 to blame ; only as you have taken too big a dose of 
 Christianity; for Christianity, when you take an
 
 120 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 overdose, is as fatal a disease as Judaism. When 
 you take it on the outside, just a sprinkling of holy 
 water and the priest's benediction, or make the sign 
 of the cross that hurts nobody ; but when you take 
 it the way you did then you get wiackes. He, too," 
 pointing to the Christ on the cross, "He, too, has 
 got His mackes ! 
 
 " If you had stayed at the Pany's house, and eaten 
 his fish and his fowl, and kept your mouth shut, or 
 called the Jews bad names, as he did, you might now 
 be saying Mass for the rest of seven departed souls ; 
 for, at least, so many graves are going to be filled to 
 morrow. Your father! He, thank God, is alive, and 
 is now on his way to America. They all have gone 
 to America, and, if God was good to them, they are 
 out of Poland this minute. Praised be His name ! 
 They have found out that America is the only Zion 
 they will ever inherit. 
 
 "The others? The Goyim (Gentiles) t Well, 
 there are going to be two souls in purgatory to-night. 
 One of them is dead already, the lame locksmith ; 
 he ought to have died before he was born. The 
 other, the judge's copyist, has his head split open, 
 and there is more light in his brain than ever before. 
 He will die by to-night, unless a miracle happens ; 
 but no miracle is going to happen, because he is 
 soaked in alcohol and rotted through by disease, and 
 a miracle has to have a sound body to work on. 
 Now, see if you can stand."
 
 GENUS AMEBICANUS 121 
 
 The monk rose, his tattered robe hanging in 
 rags about him, blood-clots on his face a pitiable 
 spectacle. 
 
 " Oy ! oy ! " the doctor continued, as he saw how 
 ready he was to sink to the ground again. " Come 
 here and help, you lummox ! " he called to his coach 
 man, and together the two men lifted the monk into 
 the doctor's carriage. 
 
 Laying him gently on the seat, and drawing the 
 hood over him, Dr. Eosnik said to the coachman : 
 "Now, drive slowly over the rough road, and as fast 
 as you can over the smooth places ; the sooner he 
 reaches his Suszka the better. I guess there is a 
 young girl there, too, who'll help to heal some parts 
 of his broken anatomy. 
 
 "Oy! oy ! What mackes I What maches!" he 
 ejaculated, as he heard the groaning of the monk 
 on that torturing journey. 
 
 When Suszka' s house was reached, the doctor hur 
 ried in, and soon had the entire household looking 
 after the wants of his patient, who was carefully un 
 dressed and deposited on Suszka' s huge featherbed. 
 
 "Schma Jsrael!" she cried tearfully. "What 
 have those brutes done to my boy? to his Eever- 
 ence?" she corrected herself, and, discarding the 
 Jewish formula, called loudly upon " Jesus, Mary, 
 and Joseph." 
 
 All that human skill and tender care could do for 
 Samuel was done ; but many were the days when
 
 122 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 darkness hung over him and his mind went wander 
 ing up and down the burning Jews' street, into his 
 monk's cell and out of it, to Father Antonius, his 
 friend, whom he sorely needed ; above all, to his old 
 father, whom he had carried out of the burning 
 dwelling. 
 
 Suszka and her daughter were busy in the garden 
 when the wandering mind came to itself, and Sam 
 uel's eyes opened upon his surroundings. 
 
 The room in which he found himself was familiar 
 enough ; but a man was sitting near his bedside, who 
 was a total stranger to him, and whose like he had 
 never seen. 
 
 The face he could not see, but the man's clothing 
 was remarkable. He sat tilted back in his chair ; 
 his feet, encased in patent leather shoes, were upon 
 the table. Two occupations seemed to absorb him 
 trimming his finger nails with a huge pocket-knife, 
 an important part of which was a large corkscrew, 
 and expectorating tobacco juice through the open 
 window with an accuracy of aim which told of long 
 practice. 
 
 "When Samuel moved, the man slowly took his feet 
 from the table and walked towards the bed, showing 
 a rather shrewd and animated face, smoothly shaven. 
 His neck was encircled by a very high, stiff collar of 
 a peculiar, shining material, an immense diamond 
 stud sparkled in his shirt bosom, and a gold watch- 
 chain of great thickness spanned his ample chest.
 
 GENUS AMERICANUS 123 
 
 He addressed Samuel in a jargon of Polish and 
 English ; but although Samuel had studied English, 
 his vocabulary did not contain certain peculiar words 
 which this man used freely. 
 
 1 'By golly!" he said, " waked up at last, have 
 you? I thought you was never coming to. Damn 
 them ! " again in that language which Samuel could 
 not understand, "they have given it to you in the 
 neck. If that had happened in America, I'd have 
 the whole cursed lot in jail ! Oh ! I see you don't 
 know who I am. Well, I guess I am some kind of 
 relation of yours. Suszka is my old sweetheart, and 
 Anka is my daughter. I have come back to take 
 them with me to America. I went over just about 
 the time you were born, and worked like a nigger to 
 make money and I made a pile of it. Now, I don't 
 work no more. I've got a home in Coalville, Penn., 
 a two-storey house and a saloon, fine drinking-place, 
 you bet ! " 
 
 The introduction was informal, indeed, and, as 
 Samuel grew stronger, this first confidence was fol 
 lowed by others; for Pavel loved to talk about 
 America. 
 
 "All alike in America I can say 'Damn fool !' 
 to the President, if I want to. Great country all 
 alike. I can spit wherever I want to, by gosh ! and 
 I can do as I damn please." 
 
 What astonished Samuel most was when Pavel 
 began to talk about the Church. "By jingo ! " he
 
 124 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 said, " we have a big church, and a priest, and the 
 priest is no better than anybody else. I pay him, 
 and he preaches. In America, every Church is good, 
 and everybody is the same Jews, Catholics, and 
 Protestants. Everybody does as he damn pleases 
 goes to church or not. Free country America ! 
 Damn fine country ! " 
 
 Each sentence was punctuated by oaths and inter 
 rupted by frequent expectorations of tobacco juice. 
 Yet, although there were many things rough, crude, 
 and often coarse, about Pavel, Samuel liked his 
 frankness, and even his brusqueiiess ; so when Pavel 
 proposed that he should cast his lot with them and 
 go to America, he readily assented. All his hopes 
 and plans were in ruins, and he felt that he must find 
 some place in which to begin a new life. 
 
 Dr. Eosnik heard the plan the last time he came 
 to see his patient, and encouraged him. 
 
 " Go to America, Samuel : you'll find your father, 
 so God will, and you can begin life over again ; but, 
 remember, don't take things too seriously, or you'll 
 get mackes again. We Jews carry our mackes with 
 us, because we think we are God's chosen people. 
 "We think we have to interfere wherever there is 
 trouble. When two or three Jews, who have the 
 real spirit of the Jew, get together, they immediately 
 proceed to give Jehovah a rest by trying to do His 
 work, and then of course they get mackes. 
 
 11 If Moses, our great lawgiver, would have let that
 
 GENUS AMEBICASTUS 125 
 
 Goy (Gentile) abuse the other Jews, and had minded 
 his own business, he would have owned Egypt by 
 and by, and then he could have told Pharaoh to go 
 and drown himself. Instead of that, he killed an 
 Egyptian overseer and had to run away, or else he 
 would have got mackes. Then he came back and led 
 the children of Israel into the wilderness, and there 
 they got mackes ; oy ! oy ! oy ! What mackes ! And 
 we have been in the wilderness ever since, and the 
 mackes ! Oy ! oy ! oy ! what mackes ! 
 
 "Samuel, if Moses had left our forefathers in 
 Egypt, they would now own the whole country, and 
 the Egyptians would be making brick for them. 
 You don't believe that? Well, what do you see 
 right here in Poland? The Jews who don't care 
 how their brethren suffer, grow rich and richer and 
 richer, and they let the other people get their mackes, 
 and, by and by, they will own the country you will 
 see! 
 
 " Look out for yourself in America, make money 
 and save it, and get rich, and when you are rich just 
 send over a steamship after me and I'll come and be 
 your personal physician. Some day, who knows ? 
 some day, I may be glad to see a ship like that come 
 sailing up our creek ; because when the Goyim begin 
 giving mackes to the Jews, they may give me a good 
 dose, too. In these days, who can tell ? with the Pany 
 a Jew-baiter, and with the priests anxious to glorify 
 the name of Jesus by giving mackes to the Jews !
 
 "Samuel, be wise, let everybody alone; make 
 money and build that ship. I may need it. And 
 now I must go ! 
 
 "You don't owe me anything, not a red kopek, 
 and, moreover, I want to pay you in advance for my 
 passage in your ship. Now, you take that money 
 and don't say a word, for I'll come in your ship. 
 You'll see me sailing into New York harbour, and 
 then, if you want to, you may pay me with interest. 
 Good-bye, and give my love to your father." 
 
 With that he took his high hat, lighted the inevi 
 table cigarette, and before Samuel could thank him, 
 he was out of doors, beating the little fence with his 
 cane and singing his usual tune, "Tra-la-la-la." 
 
 Suszka was anxious to be married in the village 
 church before they set out for America, but Pavel 
 preferred to have the knot tied, American fashion. 
 
 "Suszka, over in America we can get married so 
 fast we won't know what has happened. Why, 
 over there, a man sees a woman in the street, and if 
 he likes her, he says to her : ' Will you marry me ? ' 
 and she looks him over and he will be jingling the 
 money in his pockets and she will say: 'You bet 
 your boots I will.' So they go to a man who is 
 called a Justice of the Peace, but he is responsible 
 for more war than the Sultan of Turkey. The man 
 says to the justice : 'Hello, old man ! We want to
 
 GENUS AMEEICANUS 127 
 
 get hitched ! ' and he will say : t All right ; take hold 
 of your finances that's what they call a bride-to-be, 
 I suppose because she is after the money. So he 
 takes hold of her and the justice says : l In the name 
 of the State you are married,' and so they are, and 
 there's no hocus pocus about it. Then they go down 
 town and he buys her some peanuts and lemonade 
 and then they go home." 
 
 "Schma Jsrael ! Pavel!" shrieked Suszka. 
 "Those people are heathens ! I'll never marry you 
 that way ! " 
 
 "No, no, no, Suszka I Of course not; you are a 
 good Catholic, and we'll have the priest, and the 
 mass, and the candles, and you'll promise to obey 
 me, and you will. That, Suszka, is the European 
 plan of marriage, and the woman gets it in the 
 neck." 
 
 " Where does she get it ? " 
 
 " Eight back here, old lady," and he took his big 
 hands and choked her caressingly. " But I tell you, 
 Suszka, the American plan of matrimony has its 
 advantages. If they don't like one another, he goes 
 to a lawyer and he says : ' My wife she snores so 
 loud I can't sleep,' and the lawyer goes to a judge, 
 and in the meanwhile the woman goes to another 
 lawyer, and he goes to a judge and says she wants 
 a divorce from her husband because she found that 
 the money he jingled in his pockets was counter 
 feit, and she wants to sue him for * false promises in
 
 128 THE MKDIATOK 
 
 the breeches' that's what they call it and she gets 
 the divorce, and then he gets it in the neck, right 
 here," and Pavel tickled Suszka under the chin, and 
 she laughed until she cried. 
 
 "Yes, Suszka, if you was a smart old lady you'd 
 get married American fashion; but you'll have it 
 your own way, and we'll have a big feast in the 
 saloon for three days, with cabbage, and beer and 
 music, and they'll play Yankee Doodle, and the 
 Krakowyan, and an Irish jig. Come on, old lady, 
 I'll show you how to dance American fashion ! " and 
 he caught her around the waist and pulled her all 
 about the room as fast as he could revolve, until she 
 dropped exhausted on to a bench and said, trying to 
 catch her breath : " Oh, my ! I couldn't dance that 
 way." 
 
 " Americans do everything quick, like a streak of 
 lightning. They dance a mile a minute, you bet ! " 
 replied Pavel. 
 
 When the last load of grain was brought in from 
 the fields the harvesters did not sing as of yore. 
 Slowly they walked beside the huge white oxen, over 
 the barren fields, through the village streets, and al 
 most solemnly they brought the sheaves into the 
 barn ; for it was the last harvest which they would 
 gather in their native fields. 
 
 From nearly every cottage some one was to go,
 
 GENUS AMEKICANUS 129 
 
 under Pavel's guidance, to brave the peril of the 
 deep and to try the fortunes of the fabled America. 
 
 When the morning of departure came, there were 
 heard everywhere wailing and lamentation ; for 
 tender ties were to be broken, and the dangers of 
 the vast distance seemed not a few. Although only 
 the bravest and the strongest were venturing upon 
 this quest for fortune, from every gateway some one 
 came with a heavy bundle upon his back, and with 
 a heavier heart in his bosom, and a hundred patron 
 saints heard petitions for a favourable journey and a 
 prosperous future. 
 
 The procession formed in front of Suszka's house 
 and started without the waving of banners or the 
 notes of solemn chants. Pavel, resplendent as usual, 
 with the shining diamond in his shirt bosom, was the 
 priest who led his followers down the hill and then 
 out to the highway. 
 
 At its edge, close to the dusty road, they passed 
 the Jewish cemetery, where many years ago they had 
 laid away the form of Samuel's mother. 
 
 While the procession moved heedlessly on, Samuel 
 lingered, and, turning aside from the road, waded 
 through the dry, tangled grass into the God's acre. 
 He tore leaves from the dying stalks of the poppies 
 that grew by the wayside and laid them upon her 
 grave, while unspeakable pain filled his heart. Prone 
 upon the ground he lay, crying: "Oh, mitterleben, 
 mitterleben, forgive, forgive me ! I took your life
 
 130 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 when I came into the world, and I have brought 
 sorrow and care and grief and death to others ! For 
 give me, forgive me ! " 
 
 Long he lay there, speechless and motionless. 
 Then he sprang from the grave, roused by the ring 
 ing of the church bells, jarring every nerve of his 
 soul. Mechanically, his lips began to repeat the 
 "Hail, Mary! full of grace" ; but, at the words, 
 something seemed to give way within him, as if a 
 dried-up spring had suddenly received back its 
 ceaseless flow, and he cried out, almost defiantly, the 
 prayer of the Jewish mourner: "Yisgadal, Yiska- 
 dash Schmeh raboh." 
 
 Notes of defiance they were, rather than of com 
 fort, the prayer in which the Jew loses his per 
 sonal grief in the contemplation of the majesty of 
 God. 
 
 " Now, let the name of the Eternal be extolled, 
 as thou hast declared, saying : * Remember thy mer 
 cies and thy kindness, for they are from old.' 
 
 " Exalted and sanctified be His great name through 
 out the world which He created in accordance with 
 His will. May His kingdom be established during 
 your life, and in your days, and in the lifetime of 
 all the house of Israel, speedily and in a short time ; 
 and say ye, Amen. 
 
 1 'May His great name be blessed forever, and to 
 all eternity. 
 
 " Blessed, praised, glorified, extolled, magnified,
 
 GENUS AMEKICANUS 131 
 
 honoured, exalted and lauded be the great name of 
 the Eternal alone. Blessed be He in accents more 
 exalted than all the blessings, hymns, praises, and 
 comforts that can be employed in this world ; and 
 say ye Amen !" 
 
 Then came the closing sentence, floating into 
 Samuel's thought like a benediction. 
 
 "Be not afraid of sudden dread, or of the desola 
 tion of the wicked when it cometh. Take counsel 
 and it shall be annulled, speak a word and it shall 
 not stand ; for God is with us. And even to your 
 old age I am He, and even in old age will I bear thy 
 burden. I have made it and I will carry, I will bear, 
 the burden and free you ! "
 
 XII 
 
 IN a wilderness of masts stood the gigantic ship, 
 full of humanity, each deck crowded by an im 
 movable throng benumbed by the thrill and ex 
 citement of the moment. 
 
 A gentle tremor ran along the centre of the ship, 
 communicating itself to every taut rope and far- 
 stretching iron railing, while the volumes of black 
 smoke which hung about the four great funnels 
 were thrown high in air, as if a volcano had 
 wakened into action. Fleecy jets of steam escaped 
 from the huge valves, seeking the black cloud, their 
 powerful parent; together they travelled over the 
 highest masts towards the crowded roofs of the city, 
 and finally wound themselves about the gray steeples 
 of the ancient cathedral. The hawsers were thrown 
 back on to the dock, the roustabouts busied them 
 selves, pulling them out of the water, a mighty 
 shout rose from the crowd on shore and was an 
 swered more faintly by the passengers afloat ; then a 
 deep silence hovered over all, broken only by the 
 sharp command of the pilot as he guided the vessel 
 out of the tortuous windings of the docks. 
 
 At last the ship stood in mid-stream, the band 
 played a lively tune, and, like doves wildly beating 
 
 132
 
 "A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 133 
 
 the air, handkerchiefs waved the last farewells ; little 
 bits of white linen fast fading from sight, reminding 
 the travellers of ties broken by the sailing of the 
 ship. 
 
 Vainly the band played its liveliest airs ; each note 
 only accentuated the pain of parting, and the tears 
 came unbidden, even to those who had left no friends 
 behind. 
 
 With each outward stroke of the huge engines the 
 forest of masts on the horizon lost itself more com 
 pletely in the gray of the sky, the great Gothic 
 cathedral still standing out clearly above the red 
 roofs of the town ; but it, too, grew fainter and 
 fainter, until at last there remained only a strip of 
 yellow sand, bitten through by tide and storm the 
 frayed edges of the Fatherland. 
 
 Samuel watched the fading of the shore without 
 regret, for the last months had taught him the bitter 
 lesson that he had no Fatherland. Until his thir 
 teenth year he had been able to look at its hills and 
 mountains, and find joy in them, only when he 
 stealthily took his gaze from the all-absorbing 
 Talmud, and from the "mountains round about 
 Jerusalem" which shut out the whole world. Then 
 came the great revolution in his life, brought about 
 by his hunger for the beautiful and the ideal; the 
 wooing of his soul by the great minds, which seemed 
 to be spirit of his spirit ; his flight from what he re 
 garded as his Jewish prison, and his entrance into
 
 134 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 the monastery. The years which followed were dead 
 years ; he could see that clearly now. Then the pas 
 sion to redeem his people grew in his heart and made 
 the years, those blurred years, tolerable. Dark 
 years they were, too, for he dared not find pleasure 
 in nature or in God's living things, and he had spent 
 his young manhood in a tomb. When he reached 
 his goal, with the chance to bless and to save, at 
 the very height of all his hopes came their swift 
 collapse, the beating back of his ambitions, and the 
 shipwreck of his faith. 
 
 Once more he saw himself walking through Kot- 
 towin, through the Jews' street, rising from its ruins 
 by the indomitable energy of its inhabitants ; for to a 
 people which still hopes to rebuild Jerusalem the re 
 building of Kottowin is but child's play over the 
 bridge, through the toll-gate, past the rows of lilac 
 and the Pany's house. 
 
 No banners waved, no band played wild melodies, 
 no church bells assaulted the ears of God ; he was but 
 one of a vast stream of humanity, seeking a new level, 
 a higher level, across the sea. 
 
 In that stream he was a stranger ; for although Suszka 
 loved him and cared for him, he realized more than 
 ever the distance between him and her ; and although 
 Anka blushed when he looked at her, and sighed as 
 if hungry for his love, he found in her no kinship for 
 his spirit, while of his flesh he had long ago become 
 the master.
 
 "A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 135 
 
 Pavel's coarseness and his habitual thirst for liquor, 
 the smell of garlic among the mass with which he 
 travelled through Europe, repelled him, and repelled 
 him the more as he saw the world, that great world 
 of Goethe and Schiller, scanty but beautiful glimpses 
 of which he caught through the window of the car, 
 which he did not leave day nor night. In that ugly 
 mass of crushed humanity which came pouring over 
 the Eussian border, driven by the tempest of hate, he 
 could find no companionship, save that of their com 
 mon suffering, nor could he yet drink of that common 
 cup of woe ; for his own was full to overflowing. A 
 wild desire took hold of him to free himself from all 
 human ties, just to live for himself j to taste life 
 through and through, and taste its sweet or its bitter, 
 unshared and unsharing. Every link that bound 
 him to 'his race seemed broken ; yet the word Jew 
 hung over him like a pall. He hated the sound of 
 it, for it always came mockingly to his ears and tasted 
 bitter upon his lips. The Christian vows which he 
 had made before the altar, and which bound him in 
 obedience to the Church, had been shattered by the 
 unrestrained mob, which, in the name of Christ, had 
 burned, plundered, and killed his kinsmen. He was 
 free free to hate, and he hated them all alike, Jews 
 and Gentiles, who crowded the ship. What were 
 they to him ? Nothing, nothing ! 
 
 Three days and three nights he stayed on deck, 
 away from the woe which had gripped the entire
 
 136 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 steerage, while the great ship was being tossed about 
 on the bosom of the deep. "Wet to the skin, hungry 
 and cold, he delighted in the wild shriek of the wind, 
 in the hungry lapping of the waves, and in his isola 
 tion from his fellow men. 
 
 For three days he had tasted this joy, this fierce 
 joy of being alone, of feeling no burden, no passion, 
 no care, no present grief ; of having neither sorrow 
 nor joy to share. He stood by the prow of the boat 
 that the dashing of the waves might silence the cries 
 of the sick ; cries which rose from the depths of the 
 steerage, like the shrieks of the damned in the throes 
 of hell. ' ' Let them look out for themselves, ' ' he said 
 to himself. * ' What need I care ? ' ' 
 
 Then the wailing of a little child mingled with the 
 winds blowing through the ropes that ran up to one 
 of the steel masts, and he listened to it as he had lis 
 tened to the wailing of the wind ; but it became more 
 human and more insistent, and he was compelled to 
 turn his face from the sea. 
 
 There upon the deck lay a small child wrapped in 
 a gray blanket, taken from one of the steerage bunks. 
 A few feet from it sprawled a woman, evidently des 
 perately sick. 
 
 In a moment Samuel had the child in his arms and 
 saw that it also was sick ; then he went to the woman, 
 dragged her to the steam-pipes, and covered her with 
 his mantle. 
 
 As the sun began to shine, men, women and chil-
 
 "A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 137 
 
 dren came crawling from below, and lay prone upon 
 the deck. Samuel's heart went out to all of them, 
 and he found his home again in this Fatherland of 
 misery, the boundaries of which are not measured by 
 the seas. 
 
 To and fro he went, bringing shawls for the old 
 German women whose language was like his own 
 mother tongue, going up and down the crowded deck 
 with the ugly gray blankets, covering much naked 
 ness and warming many a cold body ; yet always 
 looking after the sick child which had first claimed 
 his attention. 
 
 The food doled out to the steerage passengers was 
 not fit to eat ; the water was brackish, and a bit of 
 fruit or a reviving cup of tea could not be either 
 begged or purchased. The suffering thus brought 
 upon Samuel's fellow passengers became his suffering, 
 and without any thought of himself he began to climb 
 the steps which led to the first cabin deck, and then to 
 the captain's bridge, where he intended to lodge com 
 plaint. He had just climbed over the top of the 
 railing, in a clumsy sort of way, when a burly sailor, 
 without saying a word, struck him a blow in the 
 chest which made him reel, and nearly landed him on 
 the deck below. In imagination, he heard Dr. Eosnik 
 saying: "Oy ! oy ! already he has mackes," when 
 he felt a hand stretched out towards him and clutch 
 ing his coat. Balancing himself, he stood face to face 
 with a woman, and as he looked at her he was con-
 
 138 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 scions of nothing but a glow of pity from dark eyes, 
 which shone like candlelight from out the sacred en 
 closure of a chapel ; or like the stars he used to see 
 from his cell, shining through a cloud and reminding 
 him of the eyes of the Madonna when she looked at 
 her crucified Son. 
 
 Samuel knew little about women, except that 
 whenever he had gone abroad from the monastery he 
 was warned not to look at them, for in that look 
 lurked the greatest danger to his soul. He had 
 looked into Suszka's wholesome but rather coarse 
 face, his aunt's unsympathetic and scarcely human 
 countenance, into Anka's voluptuous face, the only 
 young face he knew, and, when he looked at her, he 
 thought that the monks were right. Now, as he 
 glanced once more at this woman who had saved him 
 from falling, and again saw only her eyes, and again 
 thought only .of holy candlelight he knew that the 
 monks were wrong. 
 
 "Did that brute hurt you?" she said in broken 
 German, in a voice gentle and not unmusical. 
 Samuel looked her full in the face now, as he might 
 have looked into the face of some saint before whose 
 image he was pouring out his gratitude. "No, he 
 did not injure me ; for which I to you am very thank 
 ful," Samuel replied in his dictionary English, glad 
 of an opportunity to show his knowledge of it. 
 
 Then he told her how it all came about, and she 
 grew pale when he spoke of the horrors of the steer-
 
 " A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM 139 
 
 age, of the poor food, and of the sick child and its 
 mother, and she hurried away without saying another 
 word to him. 
 
 When he climbed back, the steerage received him 
 with a jeer. The men laughed at him and seemed to 
 enjoy his encounter with the sailor, and the women 
 grinned as if it had been a good joke ; for to the un 
 fortunate more misfortune is the only joke, and they 
 meant no harm by their mirth ; but it hurt, oh, how 
 it hurt ! 
 
 Only a few minutes had passed when he saw his 
 new acquaintance coming down the iron stairs, fol 
 lowed by a man of middle age, whose face was like 
 her face ; only his was sharpened by action, while 
 hers was softened by meditation and made more 
 beautiful by it. Her eyes were like bits of dark blue 
 sky shining between the clouds ; while his had in 
 them a glint of fire, as if lightning had been caught 
 there and had remained. She carried a box 
 and he a basket. The basket was full of oranges and 
 grapes, while the box held sweetmeats. The crowd 
 nearly crushed both father and daughter, and the 
 children clung to the daughter's skirts, asking for 
 more and more. She shook the last crumbs of sweets 
 over the heads of the children, and then walked over 
 to where Samuel stood. Her father followed her, and 
 asked Samuel in a somewhat brusque way to show 
 them the steerage. 
 
 He took them back and forth over the three
 
 140 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 crowded steerage decks, and down to the uttermost 
 depths of the ship, where the impact of each wave 
 was felt, where the chorus of hundreds of crying 
 children greeted them, where men and women lay 
 huddled together upon their bunks, sick, pale, and 
 trembling, waiting for their doom ; where, in a space 
 none too great for half their number, fifteen hundred 
 human beings were packed. The air, already heavy 
 from the odours of the ship, and the all-pervading 
 smell of carbolic acid, was made more foul by the 
 breath of that mass of sick and dirty humanity. 
 Bough sailors dealt out blows to the right and to the 
 left, not caring where they fell, while the ship's crew 
 was already beginning its lustful search among un 
 protected and innocent girls. The visitors also saw 
 Samuel's new-found burden, the Eussian woman and 
 her child, both more sick than any of them realized. 
 
 "Papa, what can we do?" the daughter said, as 
 with tear-dimmed eyes she saw the horror of it all. 
 When at last they stood upon the deck again and 
 could breathe the refreshing air, her father answered : 
 
 "We'll do something, and do it mighty quick, 
 even if we have to organize a mutiny on board ship. 
 This looks somewhat like the old slave trade, and I 
 am not going to stand it." 
 
 Samuel watched them as they moved across the 
 slippery steerage deck, and climbed the same iron 
 stairs from which he had nearly been thrown. 
 Higher and higher they went, to the captain's bridge,
 
 "A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 141 
 
 and the watcher's lips moved as if in prayer : " Oh, 
 Mary, Mother of God, intercede for us ! " 
 
 Very soon he noticed a group of cabin passengers 
 crowding to the railing and looking down into the 
 steerage ; then the ship's doctor came hurrying along, 
 as if he really meant business. The hospital doors 
 were thrown open, and the sick mother was led gently 
 to a whiter cot than she had ever occupied. The 
 little sick child was carried in by Samuel, but when 
 he tried to lay it down by its mother's side it cried 
 so piteously that he held it in his own arms, while 
 the nurse unwrapped it from its swathings of dirt. 
 
 As the doctor looked at the little bundle of skin 
 and bone, and felt for the beating of its heart, he 
 shook his head, then closed the door, shutting 
 Samuel in with his old-time friends, sorrow and 
 death. 
 
 In the dark depths of the ship, men and women 
 tried to forget the agonies of the journey in troubled 
 sleep. The cabin decks, too, grew silent, except 
 where here and there love, or love's counterfeit, 
 whispered the old, old story into receptive ears. 
 The rhythmic stroke of the great engines was heard 
 above the rattle and clatter of the responsive nerves 
 wound about the body of the ship, the sharp clang 
 of the bell marked the hours which came and went 
 from immeasurable time into eternity, and, from the
 
 142 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 crow's nest, where man kept watch over the trackless 
 waste, came a voice "All's well on board !" Yet 
 the same breath of wind which carried that voice out 
 upon the deep, carried with it the soul of a little 
 child, whose lifeless body lay in Samuel's arms. 
 
 Its mother was unconscious of present grief, for 
 typhoid fever was consuming her vitality, and her 
 brain was busy with troubles of the past, as she tossed 
 about on the narrow cot, muttering unceasingly : 
 " Strashno, strashno 1 " (terrible, terrible !) " Leave 
 me alone, you fiends," she cried. "Leave me alone ; 
 I am a married woman ; leave me alone." Then, 
 after a moment's quiet, the parched lips would move 
 again. "Hush, baby, we're going to papa! Be 
 still, baby dear, we're going to papa, and he'll buy 
 sugar plums for his baby ; yes, papa will take care 
 of his golden baby j " and she rocked her empty arms 
 to and fro. ' ' Does it hurt, baby, my golden baby ? 
 Oh, how it does hurt, how it does hurt ! Poor baby, 
 poor papa ! " and then her voice would lose itself in 
 unintelligible mutterings. Again and again Samuel 
 could hear: "Do leave me alone, you ruffians ! I 
 am a married woman. Oh ! leave me alone ! " 
 
 The sharp clang of the bell still measured off the 
 night, careless of the dead hours which dropped into 
 the fathomless past, as if there were no heart back of 
 time, no pitying Father's face only the cold, unfeel 
 ing dial-plate, which measured and struck out hours 
 and the lives of men with the same pitiless exactness.
 
 "A CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" 143 
 
 Aud above the sharp, clanging bell, Samuel could 
 hear, as if in mockery, the voice of the sailor who 
 kept his watch: "All's well onboard!" "All's 
 well on board !" 
 
 With the gray of the morning, just as the east was 
 beginning to be touched by returning day, two sailors 
 came to carry out the child. Samuel followed them 
 all along the ship to where the great screws were 
 churning the deep Into foam ; where on either side of 
 the steamer the waters bubbled and roared and hissed 
 and shrieked. In the centre of these tumultuous 
 waves the broad track left by the ship was deeply 
 calm, and, as the sun began to rise higher and higher, 
 it looked like a roadway beaten over with gold. The 
 morning mists lifted, and flanked the golden highway, 
 turning the anger of the deep into the glory of the 
 Apocalypse. 
 
 The rude little coflQn rested upon the railing of the 
 trembling ship, which moved steadily over the glori 
 fied deep ; the captain and the physician appeared 
 and took their posts on either side of the coffin. They 
 uncovered their heads and waited for Samuel to con 
 duct the service, for both his bearing and his face 
 betrayed the priest ; but he stood speechless, looking 
 out upon that golden path which grew more mys 
 terious and wonderful as the twilight changed into 
 the morning and the sunlight poured itself upon the 
 ocean as if eager to consume it. 
 
 "Pray!" the captain called out, as if he were
 
 144 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 commanding his sailors. Vainly, Samuel tried to be 
 obedient to the captain's voice ; but his heart was 
 numb from inward pain, and his lips were dumb 
 from the wonder of sea and sky. 
 
 Then came the stern word "Ready!" and the 
 sailors lifted the coffin from the railing, letting it 
 down slowly from the side of the ship ; the ropes 
 slid from underneath, it was tossed out upon the 
 golden path by the revolving screws and sank into 
 the silent depths, while the voice of the captain re 
 peated, mechanically, and without feeling: "We 
 commit dust to dust, ashes to ashes, the body unto 
 the deep and the spirit unto God who gave it. The 
 Lord hath given, the Lord hath taken away : blessed 
 be the name of the Lord ! " A woman's voice said 
 tenderly and audibly, "Amen!" and that voice 
 roused Samuel from his pain and wonder.
 
 XIII 
 THE ZIONISTS 
 
 SAMUEL knew who had breathed that bene 
 diction upon the tumult of his spirit, and he 
 felt that if he could cast himself down before 
 her she might win back his wrecked faith into some 
 secure harbour. Yet he did not lift his eyes to meet 
 hers, and while inwardly hungry for a glimpse of 
 her face and for the tender light which glowed in her 
 eyes, he moved slowly towards the steps which led 
 back to the steerage. 
 
 At the foot of the steps, when his feet had already 
 touched the slippery boards of the deck, he looked 
 up and saw her eyes resting upon him, the glistening 
 sunlight reflected in her tears. "Good-morning," 
 she called out to him ; but he stood immovable, as if 
 held by a spell, while he looked up and filled every 
 empty recess of his love-hungry soul. Then, turn 
 ing, as if eager to hide his treasure, he ran across the 
 still empty deck towards the hospital. 
 
 Before he reached the door, he heard the wild cries 
 of the mother whose child had just been buried, and 
 when he entered the room he found the nurse vainly 
 struggling to keep her patient upon the cot. She 
 had missed her child, and was frantic from grief. 
 
 145
 
 146 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 "My child, my golden child!" she cried. "Give 
 me my golden child ! What have they done to you, 
 my sweet baby dear ? Have the Goyim taken my 
 golden child from me? Oy, oy, oy ! " 
 
 Samuel motioned the nurse away, and sat down by 
 the cot. He touched the burning forehead with his 
 delicate, sensitive fingers, and spoke gently and 
 tenderly to the mother, as if she were the babe and 
 he were soothing her to sleep. 
 
 "Your golden baby is sleeping in a golden cradle, 
 and a beautiful woman, with hair like a golden 
 crown, is rocking the golden cradle, and the baby is 
 sound asleep, sound asleep, upon a pillow of down, 
 plucked from the breast of a golden swan; sound 
 asleep, yes, sound asleep ! " 
 
 All the time he spoke, Samuel's fingers moved 
 over the mother's forehead, until the tense body 
 grew less rigid and she sank into a quiet and com 
 forted sleep. As he lifted his wearied hand from her 
 forehead, and the pain of it all went surging through 
 his soul, he groaned aloud, vainly trying to relieve 
 himself of the burden of woe. 
 
 Laying his head in utter weariness upon the rail 
 ing of the cot, he abandoned himself to bitter 
 thoughts until he felt a delicate touch upon his 
 shoulders, and, looking up, he saw her standing by 
 his side, her face reflecting his grief. She did not 
 say a word, but, sitting down on the edge of the cot, 
 beckoned to her father who was waiting in the door
 
 THE ZIONISTS 147 
 
 way. He entered and stood beside his daughter, 
 both of them looking at Samuel in sympathetic pity. 
 
 A holy silence fell upon the room, disturbed at 
 last by the nurse, who suggested that visitors should 
 not remain too long. When Samuel rose to say 
 good-bye to his guests he showed such weariness that 
 they insisted upon his going with them. On the 
 clean upper deck they made him comfortable in a 
 steamer-chair, and ordered breakfast to be brought 
 to him. The food refreshed him, and her presence 
 seemed to drive out all the pain and bitter memories 
 of the yesterdays ; yet he could not shake from him 
 the past, as the deck below became crowded by the 
 steerage passengers his brothers and sisters in the 
 great misery. 
 
 Polish women squatted on the deck, unwashed, 
 unkempt, and scantily clothed. Among them he 
 could see Suszka and her daughter, just so much 
 flesh and rags, with the rest. Eussian Jews stood in 
 one group, with faces turned towards the East, bend 
 ing their already bowed backs, as they swayed to 
 and fro, in the wild lamentations which voiced at 
 once their sorrow and their gladness. 
 
 After Samuel had eaten, his host said: "My 
 daughter and I want to know you better. My name 
 is Bruce, Abraham Bruce, and this is my daughter, 
 Jane Bruce." After Miss Bruce had interpreted for 
 Samuel her father's quickly spoken, nasal English, 
 they waited for him to speak.
 
 148 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 He replied : " It is to me a great honour of meeting 
 you" but his name what was his name? It had 
 so long been Brother Gregorius. Was it Samuel 
 Cohen ? Cohen how the name mocked him, how it 
 branded him a despised Jew ! No, he would not 
 carry the shame of it and the taint of it across the 
 sea. " Gregoro witch, my name is Gregoro witch." 
 
 A mischievous smile played over the sharp features 
 of Mr. Bruce, and he said : "I don't want to have to 
 sneeze and cough every time I pronounce your name, 
 so I am going to call you Gregory, for short ; you 
 might just as well let me amputate that ' witch ' now, 
 for somebody is bound to do that, or something 
 even worse. They may call you Greg. They call 
 me Abe, and when they have breath to spare they 
 call me A. B., so, let's shake on it, Mr. Gregory" 
 and, taking Samuel's hand, he shook it heartily. 
 
 Again Miss Bruce had to interpret much of her 
 father's speech, and then, with the same mischiev 
 ous smile which had played on his face, she said : 
 "Papa, when you go to heaven you are going to 
 shock the Keeper of the Keys ; for you will say to 
 him, ' Hallo, Pete ! ' and your lack of manners may 
 keep you out of your golden mansion, in spite of 
 your orthodoxy." 
 
 " That's an old joke, Jane," he replied. " I wish 
 I were as sure of your going to heaven on your good 
 manners as I am of going there on my orthodoxy. 
 And now keep your unruly member in strict control
 
 THE ZIONISTS 149 
 
 while I talk to Mr. Gregory. You may have your 
 chance when we use you as an interpreter. What is 
 your Fatherland ? " Mr. Bruce said to Samuel. 
 
 "I haven't any," was the reply. 
 
 " Did he understand me, Jane?" he asked his 
 daughter. 
 
 " I think he did," she replied. "Your German 
 is perfect." 
 
 " Why have you no Vaterland ? " Mr. Bruce asked 
 again. Samuel did not answer. 
 
 "Where from are you?" Mr. Bruce further ques 
 tioned, twisting his English to make it sound like 
 foreign speech ; and again Samuel did not answer. 
 His face looked troubled and he tried to rise, in his 
 embarrassment. 
 
 Miss Bruce motioned him back, saying : " You 
 mustn't mind my father ; he l carries his heart on his 
 sleeve,' as we say, and he thinks that everybody else 
 has to do the same." 
 
 A moment of silence followed, which was broken 
 by the noises from the steerage growing louder and 
 louder, a mixture of sounds and tongues, above 
 which the Yiddish of the Eussian Jews rose, with its 
 greasy, gutteral quality. In spite of himself, Samuel 
 began to listen, and it seemed to him as if fifty men 
 were speaking at the same time, although the voice 
 of one man kept itself floating above the rest. 
 
 Miss Bruce, who had followed his troubled look, 
 saw it resting upon a group of Jews, whose long
 
 150 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 black coats accentuated their haggard forms, and 
 upon whose unwashed, bearded faces an unusual ex 
 citement showed itself. 
 
 j " The Jews are my father's pet hobby," she said 
 to Samuel. " He calls them the miracle of history." 
 
 Samuel replied: "The atonement of history, or 
 the scapegoat of history, would be a better term, 
 would it not, Miss Bruce ? " 
 
 " I must tell papa that," was the response; and 
 she translated it to her father, who listened with 
 great interest and then said : " Ask him why the 
 Russians persecute them." 
 
 " Why, papa, don't you know? " his daughter said, 
 "that they may be a miracle, and prove that a 
 special providence watches over the chosen people of 
 God." 
 
 "You keep still and let him do the talking ; let 
 him talk United States ; he does well enough," and 
 Samuel said, in his broken English : 
 
 " Chosen people, Mr. Bruce, yes, chosen for hittings 
 over their backs ; don't you, too, hate the Jews ? " 
 
 "Hate the Jews?" Mr. Bruce replied indignantly. 
 " Hate the kinsmen of Paul, hate those who have the 
 same blood in their veins as the Saviour? " 
 
 " Oh ! your father thinks that Jesus and Paul 
 were Jews ! " Samuel said in German to Miss Bruce. 
 "If I should tell that to those peasants in the 
 steerage, they would mob me. Jesus is God's Son to 
 them, and God Himself is a Russian Czar. The Apos-
 
 THE ZIONISTS 151 
 
 ties are all Bussians or Poles except Judas ; Judas 
 is the only Jew among all the Apostles. I have seen 
 a thousand images of Jesus and of the Apostles, and 
 they all looked like Italians, or Germans, or Bussians, 
 according to the nationality of the sculptor ; but all 
 of them have carved a Jewish face on Judas' form, 
 they all agree in that." 
 
 " Why do you call the Jews the scapegoat of his 
 tory ? " 
 
 " In Bussia, when the cows go dry, or the chickens 
 lay no eggs, or if there is war or pestilence, it is the 
 Jews' fault, and they get ' Mackes ' for it, as a friend 
 of mine used to say. ' Mackes gedeuloh ' ; if you 
 knew Hebrew, Miss Bruce, you would know that 
 that means a big beating, and that's what they have 
 been getting these two thousand years." 
 
 The tumult increased among the Jews in the steer 
 age ; every one of them was gesticulating wildly, and 
 the whole mass seemed to be talking at the same 
 time. Little by little the noise subsided, and a young 
 man, more emaciated-looking than the rest, his hair 
 and beard reddish and curly, seemed to gain control 
 over them ; his voice rang out clearly, and Samuel 
 could hear every word he said. " Zion is our only 
 hope, Bussia will kill all the Jews, one pogrom will 
 follow another. Austria doesn't care for us any 
 more than Bussia ; Germany is as full of anti-Semitism 
 as it can hold. In England, also, they are shutting 
 the door against us, and the time is not far away
 
 152 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 when they will do the same thing in America. Zion 
 is our only Fatherland. Jerusalem will rise out of 
 her ruin and ashes, and become the glorious capital 
 of Palestine." 
 
 A jeer greeted this proclamation. " How are we 
 going to get there, you chochem (wise fellow), how 
 will we get there ? " 
 
 "Herzl will lead us there. Herzl is our new 
 Moses." 
 
 "Herzl is Moses ! " a scornful voice cried. 
 
 "Herzl is an Epicurean, a Sabbath-breaker, a man 
 who doesn't know the law of Moses," called out an 
 other dissenter. 
 
 "He doesn't know the law of Moses?" the red- 
 haired youth replied. "He knows more than all the 
 moss-headed Eabbis put together ; he is a prophet. 
 I have seen him at Basel at the Congress," the young 
 man continued, "head and shoulders he stood 
 above us, like Saul, the son of Kish, above the men 
 of Israel. His eyes were full of fire, like the fire of 
 Sinai which was reflected in the eyes of Moses ; the 
 spirit of God rested upon him, and when he spoke it 
 was as still at the Congress as when Jehovah spoke 
 from Sinai." 
 
 "What are we going to do when we get to Zion? " 
 another cried out impatiently. 
 
 "Do? work, all of us will work in the vineyards 
 around Jerusalem, in the valleys of Chedron, in the 
 shops we will build in Jaffa."
 
 THE ZIONISTS 153 
 
 "Well, if we must work, America is good enough 
 for us," the same voice replied. 
 
 "Socialism is going to bring that kind of Zion," 
 another man called out, " and Bebel and Liebknecht 
 are better leaders than Herzl and Nordau." 
 
 "Bebel and Liebknecht are Germans, and they 
 care as much for you as Bismarck or Wilhelm II. 
 would," the red-haired man retorted. "If they es 
 tablish a social commonwealth to-morrow I'll wager 
 that the Jews will be excluded from it. "We are 
 Jews, and neither Socialists nor Monarchists care for 
 us. We have to get back our own Fatherland Pal 
 estine." 
 
 "What are they talking about?" Miss Bruce 
 asked ; and Samuel, his face flushed from the excite 
 ment of the debate, into which he had unconsciously 
 entered, replied : 
 
 "Oh ! they are saying that the Jews will all go 
 back to Palestine and have their own government, 
 and that a man by the name of Herzl will lead them." 
 
 "Papa," Miss Bruce cried as soon as Samuel had 
 finished ; " those men down there are saying that 
 some day they are going back to Palestine and that 
 they will restore Jerusalem." 
 
 "Didn't I tell you," her father replied, "that they 
 are the ' Miracle of History ' ! " 
 
 "But how will that be possible, papa! Turkey 
 owns Palestine, the French and Germans are quar 
 relling about the protectorate, the Bussians have
 
 164 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 their monasteries and sacred shrines, the Mohammed 
 ans hate the Jews. It's impossible ! " 
 
 11 Jane, don't you know that the Jews have always 
 done the impossible things ? " 
 
 Just then a voice rose from the steerage, low and 
 vibrating, like the tones of a flute j it grew louder, 
 gathering to itself one reluctant voice and then an 
 other, until the hundred-throated throng sang in per 
 fect unison : 
 
 " To the land of our fathers the shepherd is going, 
 
 He's calling together his far-scattered flock ; 
 The nations confounded are looking and wondering, 
 While doubters stand ready to laugh and to mock. 
 
 "In the shadow of mountains, in depths of the valleys, 
 
 By rivers and torrents and quieted brook, 
 The sheep of Jehovah are feeding in Zion 
 And finding rich pasture in each sheltered nook."
 
 XIV 
 THE ANARCHIST 
 
 ING, you fools ! " a woman's voice rose above 
 the exultant chorus. "Sing your Zionistic 
 twaddle, get yourselves ready, again to be 
 led like sheep to the slaughter ! Poor-looking sacri 
 fices you'd make now, not worth the killing ! Baa ! 
 Baa ! sheep that's all Israel has seen for centuries, 
 and that's what you all are. Just as one begins to 
 bleat Baa ! Baa ! Zion, there is a chorus of sheep 
 bleating Baa ! Baa ! " 
 
 "We are sheep, Eivka! sheep, you say?" the 
 red-haired youth called out angrily. " For the first 
 time in two thousand years we are feeling the strength 
 of lions ; but because we don't tear and destroy and 
 kill, as you and your kind are doing, you call us 
 sheep. We will fight for Zion when the time comes ; 
 but why should we fight for Bussia ? Do you think 
 that the Eussian people will thank you for killing 
 that brute of a governor f You think that you are 
 going to be a Eussian saint in the calendar of the new 
 Eussia. You are going to be like the rest of us, just 
 a pest and a nuisance. A fine decoration they have 
 bestowed upon you, Eivka, for your heroism, haven't 
 they now, haven't they ? " he said half-mockingly. 
 "They have," she cried with vehemence. "A 
 155
 
 156 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 medal which I wouldn't exchange for any of silver or 
 gold. I am proud of it. Look, Yankev, look, you 
 Jewish cowards, who run from a policeman as if he 
 were the devil ; look, this is my decoration and I am 
 proud of it ! " She lifted the palms of her hands, all 
 burnt and still sore and raw in spots, "Look, you 
 cowardly women of Israel, who are getting your lips 
 ready to drink the milk and suck the honey of Pal 
 estine. These lips had to suck the fire of dozens of 
 cigarettes in the hands of the Cossacks, who played 
 with me as if I were a little guinea-pig in the hands 
 of our Professor of Zoology. They wanted to see 
 what a Jewess could suffer for Russia, and I showed 
 them, and they will never forget it ! " 
 
 " Never forget it?" cried Yankev, the red-haired 
 youth, in derision ; " never forget it f They already 
 have forgotten you, Eivka ; all of them have forgot 
 ten you except the governor's wife and his little chil 
 dren. They still think of you affectionately." 
 
 It was an effective blow and a cruel one ; for the 
 woman whose face was cold as iron, and whose fea 
 tures were sharp as steel, who had faced death, exile, 
 and long wanderings through lonely forests to escape 
 her tormentors staggered beneath that blow. Her 
 large, almost coarse face, seemed to grow smaller 
 and the hard features grew soft from the pain of it. 
 
 With a visible effort she drew herself up to reply ; 
 but her voice was weak as she said : ' l You are cruel, 
 Yankev, although you are right ; the widow and the
 
 THE ANAECHIST 157 
 
 children, but there are thousands and ten thou 
 sands of widows and orphans who will remember 
 their avenger, and if they do not remember," her 
 voice grew metallic from strength, "I shall have 
 done my duty as a human being ; while you have 
 turned coward like a Jew, and will seek your solace 
 among the sheep in the pastures of Bethlehem. 
 Baa ! Baa ! sheep, the sheep of Zion." 
 
 Up and down the crowded deck she walked, beat 
 ing her aching hands against the cold air a pathetic 
 sight. Her tall thin body scantily covered, her hair 
 cut short and uncombed, her face with its heavy 
 features more Eussian than Jewish, the whole figure 
 so unattractive physically, yet so fascinating ; for she 
 carried the sorrow of an empire in her heart. In 
 spite of the mannishness of her attire and her man 
 ner, there was a maternal sweetness far in the back 
 ground of her being, which shone through, in spite 
 of herself. 
 
 "I'd rather be a sheep of Zion, Eivka," Yankev 
 called out triumphantly, " than a dog of a Jew in 
 Eussia ; and that's what you and I are to the Eus- 
 siaus, in spite of your heroism or because of it. Who 
 among your Eussian friends regards you as anything 
 but a Jewess? Eivka, you broke your father's and 
 mother's hearts by flinging your Jewish faith and 
 your Jewish morals overboard when you were at the 
 University. You came home with your hair cut 
 short and walked up and down the streets of Odessa
 
 158 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 with a cigarette in your mouth, with a book uuder 
 one arm and a Eussiau student hanging on to the other, 
 and when the Hooligans came, where were your 
 Eussian student friends to protect you ? But even 
 then you didn't see that you were just a Jewess ! We 
 Jews are either fearfully sensitive or dreadfully ob 
 tuse. They tried to make you feel your Judaism by 
 burning down the home in which you lived and 
 by killing your father and mother. Then you still 
 wanted to prove that you were not a Jewess, by kill 
 ing the Governor." 
 
 11 Yankev, my family history is none of your busi 
 ness," she replied hotly ; "but as for my Judaism; 
 well Judaism to the Eussian is connected only with 
 selling liquor to the peasants and robbing them of 
 their scant wage ; with usury of the worst kind, with 
 keeping houses of prostitution ; with the meanest 
 kind of deception in business ; with a whole lot of 
 Jews who, like yourself, have lived in Eussia nearly 
 a lifetime and yet were hankering always after Pales 
 tine " 
 
 " Now they'll know that Judaism is connected with 
 killing," Yankev interrupted her. 
 
 "Yes, with killing, Yankev, with suffering in 
 prisons dark and damp, like stables, with long 
 marches to Siberia and Manchuria, without complaint 
 or whining, with facing the scaffold like heroes and 
 heroines. Yes, Yankev, with fighting and winning 
 freedom for the Eussian people. You and your kind,
 
 THE ANAECHIST 159 
 
 who prate about being patriotic Jews, who say you 
 are on your way to Zion, you will go to America and 
 grow fat and rich and be just pork. Yankev, you'll 
 no more be the sheep of Zion, the lean miserable 
 sheep of Zion ; you'll be the fat pork-stock of 
 Chicago, ha, ha, ha ! I have seen them come home 
 to Odessa, men and women both, after being in 
 America for ten years, and they could hardly waddle 
 through the streets, so fat were they. They had dia 
 monds stuck about them, as a sheep has thistles when 
 it goes through a hedge, and those who had sung 
 loudest about Zion's flowing with milk and honey 
 were grunting about their America flowing with coal- 
 oil and molasses. Yankev, I can see you now as you 
 will be ten years hence ; red hair is very becoming to 
 fat pigs." 
 
 The crowd began to laugh ; evidently the young 
 woman had had the last word, and made it very 
 effective. Yankev vainly tried to reply, but he was 
 beaten and they all knew it. The laughter rose 
 higher and higher, and then in the midst of their 
 good-natured banter the dinner-bell rang. In a 
 moment, the deck was deserted ; Bivka and Yankev 
 alone remained. Eivka paced up and down, Yankev 
 following ; and when he caught up with her, he stam 
 mered his apologies. 
 
 "You needn't apologize, Yankev, it isn't worth 
 talking about. Your sheep have gone to be fed ; why 
 don't you go with them ? "
 
 160 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 " Why doii't I ? You know as well as I do, Rivka, 
 that I don't care to eat, when I know I have hurt 
 you." 
 
 "Hurt met You can't hurt me, Yankev. You 
 have tried many a time to do it, but you never suc 
 ceeded. Nobody, nothing, can hurt me.'' 
 
 "Rivka," the ardent Yankev replied, "am I to 
 continue to be nothing to you ? You are treating me 
 as if I were nothing to you." 
 
 "Oh, yes ! Yankev, you are my Zionistic sheep, a 
 sheep with nice red wool ; come let me pat you on 
 your curls ! " 
 
 " Rivka, do you still care for Alexis, the man who 
 deserted you when you needed friends and protec 
 tion?" he asked. 
 
 " Care for Alexis ? I care for nobody. I care only 
 for Russia. To Russia I am willing to give my life, 
 but to no mere man." 
 
 "But you have given your life to Alexis." 
 
 "My life, Yankev? My life I have given to no 
 body. I liked Alexis, he liked me, he liked other 
 girls ; he said he loved them ; they, I suppose, told 
 him that they loved him. I think I told him I loved 
 him ; but love, Yankev, is as elastic as the Czar's 
 decrees." 
 
 "But, Rivka, you have never given me even the 
 smallest hope ! Oh, if you had but deceived me ! I 
 could have lived on the joy of that deception just for 
 an hour ! "
 
 THE ANAECHIST 161 
 
 " I shall never deceive you, Yankev, you were al 
 ways too good to me. If it weren't for you I should 
 be in prison still ; all I have I owe to you, I could not 
 deceive you. You are my little " 
 
 "Stop that, Eivka! if you call me your sheep 
 again, I shall show my teeth and be a wolf, and tear 
 and kiU." 
 
 " Oh, Yankev, you tear and kill ? Well ! Well ! 
 you have never hurt anybody I loved." 
 
 " I know I haven't. I could have sent Alexis to 
 prison a dozen times, and I was often at the point of 
 betraying him to the police ; but then your face came 
 between me and him, and I did not do it. Yes, 
 Eivka, I am a sheep, a stupid sheep." 
 
 " No, not a stupid sheep, Yankev, you are a good 
 faithful fellow, you are a splendid boy, but you get 
 on my nerves so with your Zionism ; it's a passion 
 with you which I do not approve. I am jealous of 
 Zion." 
 
 "Jealous, Eivka, you are jealous? Oh! how 
 happy I am ! " 
 
 " Jealous of Zion," she continued, "for the sake of 
 Eussia. You can't understand me, Yankev, you 
 never will. I am a woman, it is true, and I love 
 some men, but then I cease to love them, while my 
 great passion, my lasting passion, is for Eussia." 
 
 11 No, Eivka, I can't understand you, and you can't 
 understand me. I am a man, I love one woman all 
 the time, all the time, yet my great passion still i$
 
 162 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Zion. It's born into me to love you ; I loved you as 
 a boy when we went to school ; don't you remember 
 that I made love to you when I was nine years old 
 and you were seven I When I was nineteen and you 
 were seventeen, I loved you still. Now, Eivka, we 
 both have suffered deeply and have grown old be 
 fore we were young ; we have seen bloodshed and 
 murder, have smelled the dampness of the prison, 
 and have wandered together through days and nights ; 
 you have loved others, and were betrayed by 
 others, yet I love you still, because I cannot help 
 loving you ; it's born into me as is my love for Zion. 
 
 " Eivka, I feel the fire of Zion's hills in my veins ; 
 I have never seen the Jordan, but it called me to its 
 shores while I was yet a boy. I have thought that if 
 the clouds of Mount Sinai could cover me, I should 
 see Jehovah face to face, as did Moses. I have wan 
 dered in my dreams through Zion's vineyards and 
 olive-groves." 
 
 " Yankev, you are a dreamer, and if I should give 
 you myself, oh ! all there is left of me, you would 
 find that I am but flesh and bone, now more bone 
 than flesh ; and if to-morrow you could get all there 
 is of Zion, from Jaffa to Damascus, and from the 
 Mediterranean to beyond the Jordan, you would find 
 aland of sticks and stones, now more stones than 
 sticks. 
 
 "Yankev, you ought to know that I am a delusion 
 to men. Look at me now, with these scant clothes,
 
 THE ANARCHIST 163 
 
 scarcely enough to cover me, with my face unwashed 
 and unpowdered, with the prison-air still eating at 
 my lungs ; I am nothing for a man. Neither is Zion ; 
 she too was in prison and is showing her nakedness, 
 she too has the consumption, and we are both a de 
 lusion, Yankev. But Eussia is great and young and 
 beautiful, and worth the loving and the saving." 
 
 "Eivka, there is no greater delusion than Eussia. 
 She too was in prison, and still is. She is not naked, 
 but her clothing is foul and soiled ; she is dying of 
 fever, and neither your life nor the thousands of 
 Jewish lives offered upon the altar of freedom will 
 save her. She is just big, big and sick, and a de 
 lusion. 
 
 "But Eivka, let's forget Eussia and Zion, let us 
 remember each other. We need one another more 
 than Eussia needs you or Zion needs me. Eivka, 
 love me, love me ! " 
 
 " Yankev, you may prove traitor to Zion for the 
 sake of a woman, but I shall remain loyal to Eussia. 
 I have told you that a thousand times ; let's not talk 
 about it. Let's turn from patriotism and love to 
 cabbage and tea. I can smell both of them down 
 stairs. If you don't hurry; the sheep will have eaten 
 it all. Go and bring some for me, and I too will be 
 a sheep, and eat with you of the green leaves of the 
 Fatherland. Do sheep eat cabbage, Yankev?" 
 
 Disgustedly, Yankev went down-stairs, while 
 around Eivka the crowd, having eaten its fill, began
 
 164 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 to surge as it watched the deck hands trying to lift the 
 trunks from the hold, ready for the landing, which 
 was expected to occur in the morning. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Samuel had watched the scene below him with in 
 tense interest, and had interpreted to his friends all 
 that he could understand. Then the luncheon signal 
 sounded upon the deck, and, realizing that it was 
 time for him to go, he made his adieux. 
 
 Mr. Bruce took his hand in his and shook it vigor 
 ously, saying: "If you need friends in America, 
 just call on A. B. and you'll find him O. K., and if 
 you get out of cash, just come C. O. D. and you'll 
 be welcome, won't he, Jane? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Mr. Gregory, you will always be 
 welcome in our home, and I want you to know, if 
 we never meet again, that you have been an in 
 terpreter to me, not only of a language, but of life. 
 Those people whose speech you have translated to 
 me are never going to be just strangers. They will 
 have friends on the other shore. Good-bye ! Tell 
 them, will you tell them, that they will have friends 
 on the other shore ? Tell that woman down there, 
 that poor burned woman, that I am her friend ; good 
 bye, good-bye! Auf wiedersehn."
 
 XV 
 THE LAND OF FRIENDS 
 
 ATTENTION, Polaks! At-ten-tion, I say! 
 Eight-about-face ! " Pavel was trying to 
 line up his former fellow-townsmen and 
 future source of revenue that he might deliver to 
 them iu an impressive manner the last instructions 
 before landing. He had drawn heavily upon past 
 and future profits, for he was in front of the bar from 
 the time he set foot on the ship until the pilot came 
 on board. Then, with remarkable fortitude, he 
 stopped drinking, when the bar was closed for the 
 remainder of the journey. 
 
 His hoarseness and his efforts to be impressive 
 made him both ridiculous and repellent ; while his 
 face grew red from his exertions as he swore in two 
 languages, chiefly in English; and a mixture of 
 Polish and English oaths is a very lurid combination. 
 
 "Attention, I say!" He strutted up and down 
 before the very crooked line which his efforts had 
 created, assuming as far as possible an air of au 
 thority and superiority, and throwing back his coat 
 to display his celluloid shirt-front and the pseudo 
 diamond in its centre. " If you Polaks think Uncle 
 Sam is going to send a brass band to meet you at 
 Ellis Island, and that the priests are going to cele- 
 
 165
 
 166 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 brate a jubilee mass in honour of your coming, 
 you're mightily mistaken. When you land, a doc 
 tor is going to take you by the neck, this way," 
 and Pavel's heavy fist came down upon the neck 
 of the unsuspecting fellow who stood nearest 
 him. "And he is going to say: 'Show your 
 tongue,' tongue, remember, tongue and you stick 
 out your tongue at him, with respect, remember, not 
 in any saucy way or else he'll cut that tongue off 
 ch-l-k -just that way ! " and his hand moved in the 
 same uncomfortable manner over the throat of the 
 same youth. "Then another man will look into 
 your eyes to see if you are a sleepy head or not ; 
 they haven't any use for sleepy heads in America; 
 so wash your eyes nice and clean in the morning as 
 you haven't never washed them before. Then an 
 other man will ask you : ' How much money ? ' 
 and you say, ( Thirty dollars' thirty dollars, re 
 member, and say it's all yours ; if you tell him it 
 ain't yours they'll lock you up. Then six old men 
 are going to examine you all over again, and those 
 same six men are going to send you to the head man, 
 a terrible fierce man ; he's got sharp gray eyes and 
 he'll look right into you, through and through, and 
 then he'll say, l Cut off his head,' and ch-l-k, off 
 goes your head ! " He moved the edge of his palm 
 over Samuel's neck, and he turned away in disgust. 
 "When you are let go, I'll take care of you all 
 right, and you'll stay at my house in Coalville, and
 
 THE LAND OF FKIENDS 167 
 
 you can drink all the whiskey you want. Whiskey 
 in America ain't your white, watery vodka ; it's red 
 like fire, and, when you swallow it, it burns as if you 
 had swallowed a tartar alive. 
 
 " Now I want to teach you four English words ; if 
 you learn them, you'll get along fine from the time 
 you land in America till you leave for Poland, a mil 
 lionaire, as I did 'Hurry up' and 'Step lively ! ' 
 When you hear a man say, ' Hurry up ! ' then dig as 
 if you were digging your way out of the grave ; and 
 when a man says to you ' step lively ! ' then run as 
 if you were running away from the tax-collector. 
 Now, listen! Step lively! Step lively, I say!" 
 and they stood immovable, like so many stones. Not 
 until, with many oaths, Pavel had translated his 
 English phrase, did they " step lively," as he directed 
 them. 
 
 Then they all ran except Samuel, who had stood 
 aloof since the first part of Pavel's instructions, and 
 who had long felt that their ways must part as soon 
 as they landed. 
 
 " Pavel, I can't go with you to Coalville," he said 
 after some hesitation ; " but I want to thank you now 
 for urging me to come ; I am glad I have come." 
 
 " Not come with Suszka and Anka ? " Pavel em 
 phasized the last name especially. 
 
 "No, Pavel, I must stay in New York and look 
 for my father." 
 
 "Look for your father? Do you think, even if
 
 168 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 you found him, he would have anything to do with 
 you, a monk?" 
 
 " But Pavel, I am no more a monk ; I am going 
 back to my father, a Jew, a Jew, Pavel." 
 
 Suszka, who had joined them, had caught the last 
 sentence of their conversation, and cried: "My 
 boy, my golden boy, don't leave us ! " She pressed 
 him close to her as she whispered into his ear, 
 " Schma Jsrael ! What would I do without you f " 
 
 In a moment she had brought before him the past, 
 with all its tender, motherly love, and as he drew 
 close to her he felt the strong ties which held him to 
 this woman, who loved him more than she loved her 
 own child. 
 
 "Suszka, I cannot go with you, for I must find 
 my father ; anyway I could not live with you and 
 Pavel, because I am a Jew." 
 
 "Samuel, my dear boy," she whispered to him, 
 11 1 am half a Jewess, anyway ; I like kosher meat, 
 and I'll cook it for you just right, and I can say your 
 Jewish prayers as well as I can my own. Come with 
 us, and you and Anka will make up. She doesn't 
 mind your being a Jew." 
 
 Anka was then engaged in peeling an orange, 
 given to her by one of the ship's crew, and throwing 
 the peeling at the busy sailors. 
 
 Suszka continued: "Pavel doesn't mind what 
 you are. He is half a heathen himself ; he eats meat 
 on Friday, and he didn't darken the door of a church
 
 THE LAND OF FRIENDS 169 
 
 all the time he was home. You don't mind, do you, 
 Pavel?" 
 
 "No, of course not," Pavel said emphatically, 
 "in America everybody is alike, Catholics and Jews 
 and Protestants. I went to church about three 
 years ago and I heard a Dominican, Father An- 
 tonius, preach about the Jews. He said the Jews 
 were the chosen people of God and we ought to love 
 'em. Yes, we love the Jews at Coalville, but, fortu 
 nately, there ain't one within fifty miles of the camp." 
 
 " Father Antonius, a Dominican?" Samuel asked 
 almost breathlessly. 
 
 "Yes," Pavel replied; "just the same kind as 
 they have in Trnava ; all white clothes, as if they 
 were millers, but all they ever grind out is souls out 
 of purgatory and pater nosters and the like. Father 
 Antonius is a great preacher, he can make you feel 
 as if your soul was sizzling in hell-fire. I never went 
 to hear him again, because he preached against 
 drink, and that hurts my business. I pay, you bet I 
 pay, but I don't go to church, don't have to in 
 America ; it's a free country." 
 
 ' ' Father Antonius ! ' ' Samuel whispered the name 
 and fondled it upon his lips. His best friend and 
 his greatest enemy, the man who lured him from the 
 Talmud to the cloister ; from Moses to Jesus. No, 
 he must not come near him again, and yet his heart 
 was drawn to him, even as it held him fast to Suszka 
 who clung to him.
 
 170 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 "Suszka," he whispered to her ; " if all goes well 
 with me, I'll come to you, and if it does not go well 
 with you, you'll come to me ; but I must leave you 
 in New York. I must leave you." 
 
 " Suszka, let that boy go !" Pavel said it com- 
 mandingly. "If he wants to stay in New York let 
 him stay. I don't think he could do much at dig 
 ging coal, and he wouldn't be no good at tending my 
 bar, for he don't drink nothing himself." 
 
 Suszka still clung to her boy. "I can't let you 
 go, you must come with us," she said insistently, 
 while copious tears flowed over her cheeks. 
 
 "Now, Suszka," Pavel said brusquely, "I am 
 going to teach you another piece of American lan 
 guage l Mind your own business ! ' Now listen, 
 Suszka, and stop blubbering. ' Mind your own busi 
 ness ! ' The people in America who mind their own 
 business are the people who get rich quick. They 
 don't go around hanging on the necks of men or 
 women they can't make money out of so, Suszka, 
 you * mind your own business ! ' Go down and pack 
 the baggage." 
 
 It had grown quiet all around them ; for most of 
 the passengers were down-stairs, "minding their 
 own business." The sailors, too, were "minding 
 their own business," scarcely looking at the girls 
 who had helped them to beguile the long journey. 
 The groups of kindred spirits which had once gath 
 ered were now scattered, already strangers one to
 
 THE LAND OF FKIENDS 171 
 
 another. The journey was practically ended, and 
 everybody was " minding his own business." 
 
 It had grown dark. The stars were shining and 
 becoming more lustrous every moment. 
 
 Suszka felt the power of this parting hour, and she 
 whispered into Samuel's ear, the first of the three 
 sentences of his evening prayer, which night after 
 night in the long ago they had repeated together just 
 before she tucked him into bed. Three times those 
 sentences had to be repeated, and although she often 
 had turned two pages at once of the rest of the 
 prayer, so long for his sleepy eyes, never did he 
 omit these words : 
 
 " Behold the guardian of Israel neither slumbereth 
 nor sleepeth ! " Suszka said, in her peculiar Hebrew, 
 which she could not pronounce or understand any 
 better than her Latin prayers. 
 
 Samuel said it after her three times. 
 
 " For Thy salvation do I hope, O Eternal ; I hope, 
 O Eternal, for Thy salvation!" Again he said it 
 three times. 
 
 Then she repeated the closing sentences, slowly as 
 of yore, when his eyes had been almost closed in 
 sleep, in that far away and long ago. 
 
 " On my right hand is Michael and on my left is 
 Gabriel, before me is Ariel, behind me is Raphael ; 
 while over my head is the Divine presence. Amen, 
 Amen!" 
 
 "Now, step lively, Suszka!" Pavel commanded,
 
 172 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 his voice sounding harsh and impatient; and she 
 stepped as lively as her heavy heart would let her. 
 
 The night was a restless one for the ship's crew and 
 for the ship's passengers. All through the long 
 hours the hoisting machinery kept up its incessant 
 rattle, which, in addition to the fears and anticipa 
 tions now reawakened in each steerage passenger's 
 breast, made sleep of short duration, or entirely im 
 possible. 
 
 All the things which a sea-journey compels one to 
 forget come back with renewed force when the intoxi 
 cating tonic in the air grows weaker, and when the 
 waves have ceased their wild beating against the 
 ship. 
 
 Long before the gray of morning touched the sky, 
 Samuel t was walking up and down the deck, busy 
 with memories of his unhappy life, which had been 
 buried in his care for others. The past and the 
 future, which had been alike dark, now held one 
 very bright spot, so luminous that it promised to 
 blot out the darkness. He looked constantly at the 
 deserted upper deck, and his imagination ran its 
 sweet riot, as it busied itself with her who had re 
 vealed to him what seemed like a new species of hu 
 manity, and who, by her proffer of friendship, had 
 cast such a glow upon the uncertain future. 
 
 Samuel realized also how selfish he had grown ; he 
 had not revisited the hospital, he had paid little at 
 tention to Suszka, and none to her daughter, and he
 
 THE LAND OF FEIENDS 173 
 
 had not yet delivered Miss Brace's message to Eivka 
 the revolutionist, whose burned hands and face had so 
 appealed to her sympathy. 
 
 Still clinging to memories of the hours he had 
 spent in Miss Bruce' s company, as a miser might 
 cling to his treasure, he reached the prow of the boat 
 and watched, as it cut its way with diminished power 
 through the water, whose colour had grown gentler 
 than that of the deep sea. 
 
 In the distance he could see the far-shooting rays 
 from a lighthouse ; other lights began to glow here 
 and there, darting about, and then slowly disappear 
 ing in the gray of morning. Suddenly a gentle 
 tremour ran through the ship, the rattling of the 
 anchor chain was heard above the voice of command 
 which came from the bridge, water began to rush and 
 then to trickle from the valves, where it had done its 
 work, and was now returning to the sea ; the journey 
 was over and the ship stood still, like a runner who 
 has reached his goal in full breath, glad to have run 
 the race. Slowly, majestically, day dawned, the 
 gray sky grew radiant from a brightness which crept 
 out of the east and then leaped from all corners of the 
 heavens. 
 
 Samuel heard a groan, and right before him where 
 he might have stepped on her, lay a woman with her 
 head resting upon a coil of ropes. She lifted herself 
 slowly, and he saw flashing black eyes, like live 
 coals glowing from out a pile of ashes. He immedi-
 
 174 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 ately recognized Eivka, whose sad story he had so 
 easily guessed from her debate with the Zionists and 
 her conversation with Yankev. 
 
 As she lifted herself from her cramped position, 
 the angular outlines of her body visible through her 
 scant clothing, she tried to shake from her the chill 
 of the night by violently swinging her arms across 
 her breast. 
 
 "Take my coat," Samuel said, and he covered her 
 with it without waiting for a reply. 
 
 "I haven't made my toilet," she jocularly an 
 swered. "My maid is rather slow this morning." 
 Then she looked at her bedraggled gingham skirt and 
 the short worn-out jacket and laughed, as if she were 
 mocking herself. 
 
 "To tell the truth, young man," she continued, 
 " I left my wardrobe in Eussia ; I didn't have time to 
 pack," and again she laughed. 
 
 Samuel told her that he knew her plight. 
 
 "Yes, I was in a big hurry to get away," she 
 added, growing sober and sad; "but now I don't 
 know just why I was anxious to escape. Freedom is 
 so beautiful when you don't have it, and when you 
 have it, well, I don't know whether under the 
 present social order there is freedom anywhere. To 
 morrow, no, to-day, we are to land. Terrible ! Ter 
 rible!" 
 
 " Why is it so terrible to you ? " Samuel asked. 
 
 " Ah ! this is a terrible country over here."
 
 THE LAND OF FRIENDS 175 
 
 "America is terrible?" Samuel echoed, shocked 
 by her denunciation. " Is it not a free country T " 
 
 Rivka's answer was a torrent of words. 
 
 "Yes, it is a free country for the strong and the 
 rich, but it is a great prison for the weak and the 
 poor. It is ruled by an autocrat, with even less feel 
 ing for humanity than the Czar ; it is ruled by the 
 Dollar. I have been told that the first thing they'll 
 ask before we land, is : * Are you strong f ' and the 
 second question is : ' Have you dollars ! ' If I do 
 not show them muscle and dollars, they will not let 
 me in, in spite of the fact that I have suffered for a 
 country's freedom. I suppose if they knew what you 
 know, they would not let me in even if I could show 
 the dollars. 
 
 * ' I used to love America. My love of my own coun 
 try was awakened by reading about that great man, 
 George Washington, and I became a revolutionist 
 when I read how one great personality could work 
 the freedom of a whole race. I went among the 
 peasants to lift them and free them, because I read 
 that Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. In Siberia, 
 in our penal settlement, we had as our only wall- 
 decoration the pictures of two men, George Washing 
 ton and Abraham Lincoln ; but we have been told 
 that their spirit is dead in America, that the Statue 
 of Liberty has been overthrown, that the millionaires 
 rule the country, and so we turned the faces of those 
 great men to the wall."
 
 176 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Samuel listened with a disturbed mind to her 
 loudly and quickly spoken words, to which she gave 
 him no chance to reply. 
 
 " To-day I shall be in the land of muscle and of 
 dollars, with sore hands and without a kopek in my 
 pocket, a stranger among strangers ! " 
 
 Samuel looked at her in great pity as she stood be 
 fore him ; so unattractive, so at variance with the 
 beauty which slowly revealed itself before his bewil 
 dered eyes. 
 
 The mist which had rested upon the water was 
 lifted by a gentle wind, and land was visible glori 
 ous, beautiful land ! Towns nestling in the hill 
 sides, luxurious homes, with far-stretching lawns, 
 farm land cultivated to the edge of the seaside. The 
 ship moved again, slowly through the channel 
 marked out for it, and in the distance was a gigantic 
 city whose great buildings, like mountain-peaks, 
 touched the skies. Far away, far as the eye could 
 see, masts and funnels edged the seemingly endless 
 harbour ; a bridge hung in the sky, as if spun by 
 spiders, so graceful did it look and so delicately was 
 it woven; tugs passed by, snorting and puffing, 
 pulling behind them heavy-laden barges, and quickly, 
 almost like lightning, splendidly-equipped yachts 
 moved to the sea with outstretched white sails, like 
 giant birds. 
 
 Samuel in his ecstasy caught one of Eivka's burned 
 hands and drew her nearer the edge of the boat, say-
 
 THE LAND OF FRIENDS 177 
 
 ing: "Eivka, you are going to a strange country, 
 but not among strangers. You are going over with 
 friends ; I am your friend, and yonder, look ! Do 
 you see that woman in the gray dress, that beautiful 
 woman who looks like a saint? Can't you see her 
 eyes? Oh, look at her! See, she is waving her 
 parasol at us ! She said to me, * Tell that poor girl 
 that I am her friend.' Listen, Eivka ! " his eyes 
 rested upon the woman on the upper deck and then 
 swept the matchless harbour. " Listen, Eivka ! I, 
 too, am coming out of prison ; fourteen years I was 
 there, although I did not know always that it was a 
 prison. I, too, struggled for freedom, although it 
 was only my own freedom I fought for. Listen, 
 Eivka ! " he whispered to her ; "I, too, have killed 
 a man, to protect poor defenseless men and women. 
 Now, Eivka, look, how broad the harbour is, how 
 wide the gateway into this new country. Over a 
 thousand of us are coming, and see how hospitable 
 America is towards us. Let's not hate it, let's love 
 it ! don't condemn it till you know it. Look, look, 
 Eivka ! How beautiful it is ; look at the sky, how 
 blue it is ; look at that land over there, those vil 
 lages, those farms, look at that great city ! Oh, look 
 at this harbour, isn't it wonderful? And, see, the 
 Goddess of Liberty ! She still stands on her pedestal, 
 her spirit alone could have wrought the things our 
 eyes see she still rules here, the air feels like the air 
 of a free country ! Doesn't it make your blood
 
 178 THE MEDIATOB 
 
 tingle ? Breathe it in, feel it ! Ah, how good this 
 free air feels ! Oh, Eivka, we both have been sinned 
 against, and we both have sinned. Let us forget our 
 past ; let us forget the Czar and the dark dungeons 
 of prison and cloister, let us begin a new life on these 
 new shores ! See, how they are waving those flags ! 
 Look at them on the shore and on the ships, every 
 where the stars and stripes ! Oh, what a flag it is, 
 without eagles' talons or the emblems of human 
 rulers ! The stars and the rivers, which God alone 
 rules ! God rules over here, Eivka, God rules ! 
 
 "Look at the boats, crowded from stem to stern 
 by human beings ! How gay they all look ! Listen ! 
 They are shouting at us, let us shout back at them ! 
 Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai ! Now they are waving their hats ! 
 Wave at them, wave at them, Eivka ! " 
 
 She tore his coat from her shoulders and swung it 
 out to the breeze, shouting : "Vive la Libert^ ! Vive 
 la Democratic ! Vives les peuples ! " 
 
 "Oh, look !" Samuel cried, overcome by the joy 
 of it. " Look, how our new friends are welcoming us 
 to America!"
 
 XVI 
 A JEWISH PHARAOH 
 
 A BANG, a thud, and a whack of the hot iron 
 against a heavy coatsleeve not easily pressed 
 into shape; then the iron rattled against 
 the stove and another one came down with the same 
 bang, and thud and whack, against another part of 
 the coat's anatomy. 
 
 The three men who stood by the pressing-benches 
 were stripped to their waist of everything but an 
 undervest ; yet the perspiration rolled down their 
 cheeks and fell into the hollows of their chests. 
 
 The work, which was monotonously alike from 
 morning until night, was performed painfully and in 
 complete silence. If conversation was attempted, it 
 was drowned by the rhythmic thud and bang of the 
 irons, and the more constant, if not more melodious, 
 whir of the sewing machines. Over these, some half- 
 dozen women bent, picking up their work and drop 
 ping it mechanically ; although evidently they 
 worked in less discomfort than the men. The shop 
 was dingy, flanked on one side by the office, which 
 was partitioned off from it, and in which the " Boss," 
 Mr. Eosenfelt, kept his strong box and his account 
 books. On the other side of the room were two win- 
 
 179
 
 180 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 dows, the lower panes pasted over with Yiddish 
 newspapers, for the purpose of obscuring the view 
 into the open, which view consisted of the rear of 
 tenement houses, with their entanglement of wash- 
 lines. 
 
 Mr. Bosenfelt, the "Boss" of the sweatshop, 
 boasted of an extended residence in England, of a 
 command of English which was a mixture of Cockney 
 and Yiddish, in which the Cockney was purposely 
 made conspicuous, and of being able to produce a 
 cloak more cheaply than any other u Manufacturer 
 of First Class Ladies' and Misses' Cloaks," as he 
 called himself, on the East Side. He was born in 
 Lithuania, where the necessity of dealing with a 
 rather virile peasantry had sharpened the wits and 
 dulled the morals of the Jews, who were already 
 ethically weakened through an incessant study of the 
 Talmud, with its legal decisions stretching through 
 hundreds of years of Jewish history. 
 
 Mr. Bosenfelt' s shop-hands were always " green 
 ers," most pliable and exploitable; and when they 
 left him it was generally in a quarrel which he 
 usually provoked, and which almost always left him 
 the richer for a few dollars of unpaid wages. 
 
 It was Saturday evening, and the men and women 
 were alike restless. Mr. Bosenfelt was also very 
 much wrought up, for he detected signs of mutiny 
 among his thus-far patient crew. The most aggra 
 vating thing which had happened to him that day
 
 A JEWISH PHAEAOH 181 
 
 was that Bill, his janitor, pack -carrier and general 
 utility man, an habitual drunkard, had come to the 
 shop that morning perfectly sober. During the af 
 ternoon he confided to Mr. Eosenfelt that he had 
 " got religion" at the Salvation Army, and that his 
 wages from now on were to be paid altogether in 
 cash, and not in lodging, food and doses of cheap 
 whiskey, by which he was kept just between so 
 briety and drunkenness. As he was in the habit of 
 doing his heavy work without regard to hours of 
 labour or scale of wages, this ' ' Declaration of Inde 
 pendence" came to Mr. Eosenfelt like a thunderbolt 
 from a clear sky. He had sent Bill away on an 
 errand as soon as he could, that his mutinous spirit 
 might not affect the rest of the force. Bill, however, 
 was swifter afoot than usual, having no alcoholic 
 haze to wade through, and, as he climbed up the 
 stairs, every one in the shop paused for a moment, 
 almost simultaneously, much to the chagrin of Mr. 
 Eosenfelt ;'for Bill, or u His Majesty Wilhelm the II," 
 as he was called, came up the stairs singing loudly. 
 As he staggered into the room beneath the burden of 
 a huge bundle of cloth, he continued his song : 
 
 " I am washed, I am washed, 
 I am washed in the blood of the lamb." 
 
 "What's that!" called out one of the pressers; 
 11 you're washed ? Was you at the police station or 
 in the hospital I "
 
 182 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 " No, he fell into the river, that's the only time he 
 gets washed," some one else remarked facetiously ; 
 but, undismayed, Bill unpacked the cloth and sang 
 more loudly than before : 
 
 " Of the la-amb, I am washed 
 In the blood of the 1-a-a-m-b." 
 
 "Oh! Mr. Samuel, I am so happy!" and he 
 looked up to the sympathetic Samuel, who was one 
 of the pressers, and to whom, as to the rest of them, 
 this interruption offered a period of relief. " I am 
 so happy, Mr. Samuel, I've got religion, and I've 
 joined the Salvation Army." 
 
 "Ven you don't shtop beink appy und begins 
 your yob uf sweepink, you'll be fired, und can join 
 der harmy uf der hunemployed, Bill." 
 
 This was said in a nervous, jerky sort of way by 
 Mr. Rosenfelt, whose tongue continued to move after 
 he finished speaking ; for his easily-roused anger cut 
 off his power of speech, while it did not stop the 
 motion of his tongue. 
 
 Bill picked up his broom and began to sweep in 
 dustriously, and Mr. Eosenfelt's tongue found words 
 again. 
 
 "Yoost my luck ! I picks im hout uf der gutter 
 fen e ad notink, und hevery day I vas afraid e'd get 
 der tremens, und now e goes und gets religion ! 
 Yoost my luck!" and his tongue moved excitedly 
 back and forth.
 
 A JEWISH PHARAOH 183 
 
 Busily Bill swept, after the wrath of the " Boss" 
 had spent itself and his tongue had stopped wagging ; 
 but all at once the joy of his new experience swept 
 over him. He felt as a common sparrow might feel 
 when, after picking the dirt of the gutter during the 
 winter, he suddenly realizes the joy of spring in the 
 air, and embellishes his monotonous chirp with a 
 trill. 
 
 So Bill sang, or tried to sing : 
 
 " Am I a soldier of the cross, 
 A follower of the la-a-mb ? " 
 
 "Bravo, bravo!" shouted the men, keeping time 
 with their hot irons upon the cloaks and filling the 
 already heavy air with a strong suspicion of singed 
 cloth. " Sing that again, Bill, that's fine ! " 
 
 Mr. Eosenfelt was on his feet, trembling from the 
 tip of his tongue, ready for the speech which had not 
 yet come, down to his foot, which he was lifting 
 ready to kick Bill, who was on the floor sweeping 
 the results of his labour into a dust pan. "I told 
 you vonced halreaty dot you vas not to sing hany 
 more your Christian stuff und nonsense. Dis iss a 
 Jewish sweatshop, und ven you don't shtop right 
 avay already, hoff you goes back to der Bowery." 
 
 "Listen, Samuel, this is a Jewish sweatshop! 
 he calls this a Jewish sweatshop," Yankev called 
 out derisively. "If it is, Mr. Eosenfelt, then you 
 are Pharaoh ; for if ever there was a slavery for
 
 184 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Jews, it's your shop. Let that poor goy sing; it 
 doesn't hurt you. He has got some religion in the 
 Salvation Army and it makes him happy. When 
 the Jews get religion again, they too will sing." 
 
 " Baa ! Baa ! " mocked Eivka, and she threw aside 
 the heavy cloak she was stitching, and laughed. 
 " Yankev, l his Majesty Wilhelm the II.,' alias Bill, 
 will soon join the Zionist army. He sings about 
 lambs now ; later he will sing about sheep Baa ! 
 Baa ! " and she continued the whir of her machine, 
 which served as an accompaniment ; while she sang 
 in Eussian with her peculiarly husky, melancholy 
 voice : 
 
 " Remember'st thou the day when we 
 
 Late was the hour were forced to part ? 
 The night-gun boomed athwart the sea ; 
 
 In painful silence beat each heart ; 
 The lovely day found cloudy close ; 
 
 A heavy mist the landscape palled ; 
 And seemed it, when that shot arose, 
 
 An echo from the ocean called. 
 
 " Alone I wander by the flood ; 
 
 And when a gun booms in its might, 
 I think in pain how we once stood 
 
 Together on that parting night. 
 And as the mournful echoes roll 
 
 Muffled, along the fluid walls, 
 From out the caverns of my soul 
 
 Death answeringly calls and calls." 
 
 " I've done, Mr. Eosenfelt ; this is the last cloak 
 I'll sew for you. Fertig basta finished ! " and she
 
 A JEWISH PHARAOH 185 
 
 threw the heavy cloak to the ground. "Samuel, 
 this is a fine country," she continued, "full of 
 friends behold our friend, Mr. Eosenfelt ! Why 
 don't you say 'sometink,' Mr. Eosenfelt? Your 
 tongue has been going without making a sound for 
 fifteen minutes. What a waste of energy ! Your 
 mouth looks exactly like a sewing machine running 
 at full speed with nothing to sew. 
 
 " Don't be excited, Yankev. Mr. Eosenfelt 
 doesn't like the Salvation Army to-day, because Bill 
 wants his wages ; he doesn't like the 'Zionist Army 
 because you'll want your wages, and he won't like 
 the Anarchist Army because I shall want mine. Mr. 
 Eosenfelt, I want my wages, all my wages, and then 
 I quit 
 
 "What's the matter, Mr. Eosenfelt?" she said. 
 "Are you going to have a stroke of apoplexy! 
 Don't repress your feelings ; say 'sometink.' " 
 
 "I I say sometink? 'Ave I not been say ink, 
 you ungrateful set ? Yoost my luck 1 I brings dis 
 lot uf greeners from der ship, I gifs dem a yob der next 
 day dot dey lands, dey learns fine Hinglish hin my 
 shop und 'ow to finish gloaks, und now dey 'ave no re 
 spect for me ; yoost my luck ! Bill, you carry hout 
 dot broom und shtay hout. Eemember, shut mit 
 yourself der door behint you und shtay hout. Go to 
 your Salvation Harmy ; und you, Yankev, can like- 
 vise go to your Zionist Harmy, fen you gets done dot 
 yob uf gloaks, und you, Miss Eivka, can go to your
 
 186 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Hanarchist Harmy. I can gets a 'ole lot uf greeners 
 for notink to-morrow. Dree tousand uf dem lauded 
 yesterday und dree hundred tousaud vill come dis 
 year. It stands bin der newspaper ; Eussian green 
 'orns by der East Side vas going to be so tick ass flies 
 haround der soda-vater fountains vere dey geeps der 
 zyrups." 
 
 " I will go too, Mr. Eosenfelt," Samuel said. He 
 had kept out of the quarrel, which was simply part 
 of a " continuous performance"; but, evidently, in 
 this instance, the closing part, and he was not sorry 
 for it. Six months he had been here, with Eivka 
 and Yankev, from whom he had not separated him 
 self since their landing. Six brutal months they had 
 been. Unused to manual labour, he had to stand 
 twelve hours a day, lifting the hot iron and moving it 
 to and fro with heavy pressure. He had grown thin, 
 his eyes were circled by dark shadows, and his spirit 
 was depressed ; first, because he could find no trace 
 of his father, and then, because the surroundings in 
 which he found himself, grew more and more intol 
 erable. 
 
 He had secured lodgings with the barber of Kot- 
 towin, the mentor of his youth, who had lost every 
 thing that terrible night of the pogrom, and who 
 like himself was hard at work for small wages. The 
 barber scarcely made ends meet, in spite of the fact 
 that his wife worked and two of his children worked 
 also. His youngest daughter, Malke, was gradually
 
 A JEWISH PHAEAOH 187 
 
 losing her sight, as the result of a brutal blow re 
 ceived the same night, and the care of her had eaten 
 up all possible savings. 
 
 Eivka and Yankev also roomed at the barber's 
 home, quarrelled constantly, and then made up, but 
 kept the air electric by their disputes and mutual 
 jealousies. 
 
 "I will go, too, Mr. Eosenfelt." That was all 
 Samuel said ; but the iron he held in his hand came 
 down upon the cloak with a heavy thud and remained 
 there, for he was wearied to the bone. 
 
 "You go too, Samuel? No, you don't needs to, 
 you vas all right ; you geeps your mout shut und 
 vorks ; it's de odders vat don't do notink but quar 
 rel about Zionism und Anarchism und Socialism und 
 Christianism." Then he stopped but his tongue 
 once set in motion did not stop. 
 
 " I will go too;" the other presser brought his 
 iron down with a whack which made Mr. Eosenfelt 
 jump into the air and set his tongue which had now 
 stopped, into motion again. 
 
 " You greeners, you fools ! Listen, you greeners, 
 listen vat der baper says : ' Tirty tousand Jews 
 killed in Bresnitza.' " 
 
 "There are not three thousand Jews in Bresnitza," 
 said one of the greeners. " I know well that there 
 are not more than fifteen hundred Jews in that town, 
 for I was one of them. It's all one of your Amer 
 ican newspaper lies."
 
 188 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 " Iss dis a lie also, hu 1 " Mr. Eosenfelt said, when 
 his wagging tongue found utterance again. " l Honly 
 dree persons uf hall der Jewish bopulation hin Kot- 
 towin escapes mit dere lifes.' Hey, Samuel, you 
 har a Kottowiner ; vas dere dree persons hin dat 'oly 
 town, hey I Listen, Samuel : ' Der 'ole Jewish town 
 lately rebuilt iss in hashes again; der 'ole Jewish 
 bopulation gilled except dree persons ; der celebrated 
 physician, Dr. Rosnik, his vife uud son.' " 
 
 No one in the whole room stirred. 
 
 1 i Fife veeks from now der East Side iss going to 
 bulge out mit greeners. My galgulation iss dot dree 
 hundred tousand uf your gind vill gome next year ; 
 vages vill go down twenty per cent, und rents vill go 
 up fifty per cent. Samuel, don't you dinks you bet 
 ter shticks to your yob, hey ? " 
 
 1 i Mr. Eosenfelt, ' ' Samuel said with a tremour in his 
 voice, and unable to control his emotion, " stop talk 
 ing about my job or your job or anybody's job, when 
 Israel is being slain. You and all of us ought to be 
 on the floor weeping and praying over the misfor 
 tunes of our people." 
 
 " I gots no objection to your fallink on der grount 
 und veepink all you vantsto. Honly remembers dot 
 you began dalking hat >alf past five o'clock, dot iss 
 your time, remember ; now you can veep till six, und 
 ven you don't shtop veepink den, you can go to der 
 zynagogue and makes room for new greeners vat 
 >avu' t gots time to veep. Yoost my luck ! I takes in
 
 A JEWISH PHARAOH 189 
 
 a lot uf starved greeners, und now dey vants to turn 
 my shop into an 'ouse uf brayer ! Yoost my luck ! " 
 and his tongue wagged excitedly. " Yoost my luck ! 
 Yoost my luck 1 "
 
 XVII 
 THE PURSUING CHRIST 
 
 " "![ "IT THAT next, Yankev?" Eivka asked of 
 %/%/ her devoted lover, who, in company 
 with Samuel, had reached the foot of 
 the stairs which led from Mr. Bosenfeltf s sweatshop. 
 
 The street was thronged by the usual Saturday 
 night crowd ; a pushing, struggling mass which had 
 poured out of the shops, and, little by little, would 
 lose itself in the crowded tenement houses. The air 
 was heavy from moisture. Large flakes of snow flut 
 tered lazily down, and seemed to be met half way by 
 the slush and ooze of the street upon which they fell, 
 with no memory of their crystalline beauty and purity. 
 The elevated railroad trains thundered along, while, 
 beneath the tracks, the dark and the damp had 
 mingled, and hung over the street like impenetrable 
 fog over a dismal cave. 
 
 "What next? Another job, of course," Yankev 
 replied. 
 
 "Not that kind for me," Eivka said. "Not 
 that kind ; I am done with your sweatshop, I am 
 done being a slave. I want to taste some of that 
 American freedom that you, my dear Samuel, said 
 was loose upon the streets. Where is it ? " 
 
 190
 
 THE PUESUING CHRIST 191 
 
 " Eivka, you must be patient, we have been here 
 only six months, we haven't reached America yet, 
 we are still in a suburb of the Pale. Wait until we 
 reach America, ' ' Samuel replied. * ' At least our lives 
 are safe here, while to-night, in Eussia, God knows 
 how many thousands of Jews are in danger of being 
 killed." 
 
 "I'd just as soon be crushed by a club in the 
 hands of a mob, Samuel, as to have my blood sucked 
 out little by little by men like Eosenfelt. Anyway, 
 if this isn't America, I am going to find it. I am 
 going to plunge. Good-bye, Yankev, good-bye, 
 Samuel." She turned into Second Avenue, and was 
 almost swallowed by the crowd, while Yankevran after 
 her and tried to pull her back to the quieter street. 
 
 " You must not go, Eivka ; you must go home with 
 me ; to-morrow I'll look for a job, and you can stay 
 at home and be a lady." 
 
 " I must, Yankev? Who said I must I My dear, 
 Zionistic, curly-headed sheep, ta ta, good-bye ! " 
 
 " Eivka," and he caught her hand, while the pass 
 ers-by looked curiously at the agitated couple ; " you 
 must not go ; come, let's go home and to-morrow I'll 
 find a job and you need not work at all. I'll earn 
 enough for both of us." 
 
 " You, Yankev, earn enough for both of us t You 
 would have starved already, if I hadn't earned 
 money outside the sweatshop. Now, good-bye, go 
 home and be my good sheep, and I'll bring you a
 
 192 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 package of cigarettes. I must go and hustle. Good 
 bye, Samuel, take care of Yankev." The stream of 
 humanity carried her along, and in a moment she 
 was lost to sight, Yankev plunging after her in the 
 effort to regain possession of her. 
 
 Samuel had not strength enough left to follow them ; 
 he was almost physically consumed by the work of 
 the week, and too much overcome by the great dis 
 asters in Eussia to realize quickly the possibilities of 
 peril to Eivka. Just as he was about to turn to 
 wards his lodgings, his arm was clutched, and he 
 saw Bill's radiant face. 
 
 "Mr. Samuel," he said, "I have five dollars in 
 my pocket, five dollars ; he gave me five dollars and 
 they're burning in my pocket like fire. I haven't 
 had five dollars since I don't remember when, Mr. 
 Samuel. Oh, Samuel ! you're not like the others ; 
 you never made fun of me and you won't make fun of 
 me now. Mr. Samuel, I am afraid." 
 
 1 1 You're afraid ? Not of being robbed, Bill ? ' ' 
 
 "No, no, not of being robbed, Samuel, but I 
 you'll understand me, Samuel. I smelt it as soon as 
 I struck the street, liquor liquor ! I'm afraid I'll 
 go into a saloon and drink. I promised last night 
 never to drink another drop. Mr. Samuel," his 
 voice grew mellow from tears, il take me to the Sal 
 vation Army on the Bowery, hold on to me and don't 
 let me go till we get there. You'll do it, won't you? 
 I knew you would. Take hold of me."
 
 THE PURSUING CHEIST 193 
 
 He gripped Samuel's hand as they walked along 
 Houston Street, and when they came to the corner of 
 Second Avenue, Bill's body shook. Every thirsty 
 nerve seemed to tear him, as if to overpower him, 
 and he pled with Samuel. 
 
 "Samuel, let me go ! For Heaven's sake let me go 
 and get just one drink, just one, and then I'll quit 
 sure ! I promise, I swear I'll not drink another 
 drop ! Why do you hold me ? Let go, I say ! 
 Damn you, you sheeney, let me go !" 
 
 But Samuel held on to the struggling victim al 
 most dragging him along. 
 
 At length Bill recovered himself and said : " The 
 captain told me to sing when I thought I couldn't re 
 sist temptation. I'll sing." 
 
 " Hold the Fort for I am coming, 
 Jesus signals back to Heaven, 
 By Thy grace I will." 
 
 " Jesus is a wonderful Saviour, He is, Samuel ! I 
 know you're a Jew and you don't drink ; so you 
 don't know ; you can't know, but He is, He is a won 
 derful Saviour," and he began to sing again : 
 
 "What a wonderful Saviour ia Jesus, my Jesus, 
 What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Lord." 
 
 When they came to the Bowery he quickened his 
 pace and said : " Now let's walk fast, Samuel, and 
 for goodness' sake, don't let me go. This is my hell 
 this street is. Every step I take here now, looks
 
 194 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 like a step down down and I can't walk straight. 
 Hold me, Samuel, for Heaven's sake hold me ! 
 There she is, Samuel, let me go ! she is my friend, 
 let me go and speak to her. I'll be back in a minute. 
 You won't let me go? Oh!" and he gnashed his 
 teeth. " You must let me have my liberty ! I must 
 go after her ! See how she smiles at me ! " 
 
 Samuel's clutch was firm. " Bill, she is a fiend 
 
 and you know it ! try to think of God, think of " 
 
 how hard it was to pronounce that name, "think of 
 Jesus and He will help you. Sing, Bill, sing some 
 thing." 
 
 "You're right, Samuel, God bless you! She's 
 gone. God bless you, Samuel." He began to sing 
 again : 
 
 " What can -wash away my sin ? 
 
 Nothing but the blood of Jesus. 
 What can make me pure within ? 
 Nothing but the blood of Jesus." 
 
 The tears rolled down his cheeks as he sang. 
 Samuel was bathed in perspiration from the effort he 
 had made to keep his hold on Bill. It had been no 
 easy task, in his state of physical exhaustion, and the 
 slushy, slimy condition of the street, which made 
 walking very difficult. 
 
 ' ' Samuel, I am vile ; you ought not to touch me ; 
 I am. vile, I can't tell you how vile, but ' Jesus is 
 able to save,' to save 'Even me, even me.' 
 There, over there it is ! thank God, Samuel ! do
 
 THE PURSUING CHRIST 195 
 
 you see it there ? A great big electric sign and the 
 cross, three squares from here? Samuel, I am not 
 worth it, I am not worth it, but save me ! These 
 three blocks are the very bottom, the very bottom of 
 hell ! I have committed every iniquity here that a 
 man can commit, and this will be the fight of my 
 life. Samuel, you're a Jew ; you don't know, you 
 can't know, how precious Jesus is to me ! My father 
 punished me and drove me out of the house, my own 
 father, Samuel ! but Jesus, He'll never leave me, nor 
 forsake me, He said so. Hold on to me, hold both 
 my hands ! I am afraid. Mr. Samuel, do you want 
 to save me? Thenjsay it, don't be afraid to say it. 
 Say it to me all the time : ' Jesus is able to save, 
 Jesus is able to save.' You don't mind saying it, do 
 you?" 
 
 They were underneath the elevated railway. It 
 was dark overhead, and the drippings from the track 
 fell upon them. On each side of them were glar 
 ingly-lighted saloons and cheap flaring theatres ; the 
 voices of the barkers penetrated the rattle and noises 
 of the streets. Odours of beer and whiskey pervaded 
 the heavy air and racked Bill's nerves ; but through 
 it all he walked docile as a lamb, for Samuel re 
 peated again and again : 
 
 "Jesus is able to save, 
 Jesus is able to save." 
 
 "Two more blocks, Bill, and all will be well.
 
 196 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 There, look at that cross all lighted for you ! 
 'Jesus is able to save.' The next corner, Bill, and 
 it's over thank God, Bill, here we are 1 " 
 
 Samuel did not intend to follow his eager compan 
 ion, who almost leaped through the door which was 
 opened by the doorkeeper, but he was chilled and 
 weary, and the warmth which greeted him from 
 within was seductive ; so he entered. He found him 
 self in a long room, lighted by nickering arc lamps ; 
 but all he was conscious of, at first, was the bright 
 ness of the light and the heaviness of the air. 
 
 When his eyes had grown accustomed to the light, 
 he could see that the room was full of men and 
 women, the men predominating. Nearly all of them 
 bore signs of dissipation, while poverty was visible 
 on their faces and in their shabby garments. 
 
 In front of him, at what seemed a great distance 
 away, was an elevated platform on which men sat, 
 uniformed like soldiers. "Women were there also, 
 and all were either beating tambourines and drums 
 or were singing lustily, while some did both. 
 
 When Samuel and Bill entered the room, in spite 
 of the fact that all present were in the midst of a 
 song, the leader called out : " Glory, Hallelujah ! 
 here is brother Bill back again ! kept by the grace 
 of God ! " and she began beating her tambourine and 
 singing : 
 
 " What can make us white as snow ? 
 Nothing but the blood of Jesus."
 
 THE PURSUING CHEIST 197 
 
 The soldiers and the entire audience immediately 
 switched to her tune without evident embarrassment, 
 no one seeming to notice the discords. 
 
 Everything was strange to Samuel. He had ex 
 pected a religious meeting, from what Bill had dis 
 closed regarding the nature of the Salvation Army. 
 The unconventionality, the spirit of camaraderie, the 
 plain language used, the weird music all repelled 
 him at first. Not until from all over the room came 
 testimonies from the lips of men and women who 
 spoke of the saving power of Christ over their lives, 
 did he realize the significance of the place, and the 
 great importance of this form of religious service. 
 
 A woman rose and told that she had been a cocaine 
 fiend ; another one had been drawn from the lowest 
 level of a life of shame, to realize the magnitude of 
 her sin and the grandeur of her nature ; burglars, 
 gamblers, and drunkards testified to the change 
 which had come into their lives and then that 
 which seemed to Samuel the greatest wonder of all 
 took place. 
 
 A young woman, a member of the Army, began to 
 speak ; her language was crude, the language of the 
 street ; but spoken in the accents of heaven. The 
 burden of her speech was, "Come to Jesus, He is 
 able to save." She called it out a hundred times : 
 "Come, poor sinners, Jesus loves you, come and be 
 saved ! " And from all parts of the room men and 
 women came to her ; she bade them kneel, and
 
 198 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 all of them knelt as if impelled by a command. 
 Then she prayed, and her prayer seemed to open to 
 them the very windows of heaven. They groaned, 
 as if oppressed by some burden ; but after a time one 
 and then another rose, their faces aglow from joy, 
 testifying that they had found forgiveness for their 
 sins, and that they were determined to lead a new 
 life. 
 
 Some spiritual magic seemed to be woven around 
 Samuel. He felt the old hunger for God, he yearned 
 to be able to pray. The spiritual exaltation in which 
 he had so long lived, and from which he had been 
 cast so suddenly, lured him again, and he looked 
 enviously at the woman, so passionate in her prayer. 
 The long-quenched desire to save, awoke in him, 
 and he felt that he must rise and speak ; must ask 
 men to come with him into the presence of the Di 
 vine. He knew that he could not long resist the 
 impelling force, which seemed to grow greater and 
 greater. 
 
 When the woman at last rose from her knees, with 
 her face transfigured by spiritual passion, she went 
 from seat to seat, speaking a word of admonition or 
 encouragement to each man and woman. Samuel 
 dreaded to have her come to him, for he felt that she 
 represented his other life, the broken life, the life 
 crushed out of him by the foes of his race and now 
 he must live for his own people, for his own 
 faith.
 
 THE PUKSUING CHEIST 199 
 
 Nearer and nearer she came, and the more he 
 struggled to free himself from the power of her pres 
 ence, the more he felt it. At last she stood before 
 him, and looking straight into his face, with the 
 boldness which the saving passion gave her, she 
 asked : " My brother, do you love Jesus ? " 
 
 He looked into her face, afraid, as a child might be 
 afraid when the teacher asks a question hard to 
 answer then he said : l i Yes. ' ' 
 
 Hardly had the word escaped his lips when he felt 
 that it was treason which he had spoken a lie that 
 he must take the word back and leave the place. 
 Something seemed to grip his heart, his breathing be 
 came heavy, the air grew dark, and with one supreme 
 effort he rose, rushed to the door, and then out into 
 the slush, the damp and the dark. 
 
 He was not conscious of the crowd and the noises ; 
 he simply felt that he must run as fast as he could, 
 away from this pursuing influence. He shook him 
 self, muttered strange words, and recalled incidents 
 of long ago to blot out that " yes," which had es 
 caped his lips. He did not, he could not love this 
 Christ, this pursuing Christ, who had lured him 
 away from home and friends and who had 
 plunged his peaceful life into a remorseless 
 struggle. 
 
 Often he would stop and cry out: "Leave me 
 alone! Leave me alone!" and those who heard, 
 looked suspiciously at him, thinking him drunk or
 
 200 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 insane. When he reached the Ghetto, he breathed 
 more easily and slackened his pace. At last, hungry, 
 and worn in body and spirit, he climbed the five 
 flights of stairs which led to his lodgings.
 
 XVIII 
 HIS NAME WAS LOVE 
 
 " TTS that you, Samuel?" Malke, the eight-year- 
 old daughter of the barber of Kottowin, called 
 
 -*- through the darkness, as Samuel came stum 
 bling into the kitchen, breathless from the haste with 
 which he had tried to escape his experience of the 
 evening. 
 
 "Yes, little one; but why are you not asleep?" 
 he asked, in a voice which betrayed his weariness 
 and inner tumult, rather than his anxiety over 
 Malke' s sleeplessness ; for she was awake at all hours 
 of the night. Day and night were alike full of pain 
 and darkness to her. 
 
 "I couldn't go to sleep, Samuel ; but what is the 
 "matter? Your voice trembles, as if something had 
 happened to you. Have you found out anything 
 about your father ? " 
 
 "No, dearie, I haven't; but we had some trouble 
 in the shop and we have had bad news from Eussia. 
 Think of it, Malke, they have killed hundreds and 
 thousands of people in Eussia. and in Kottowin, too. 
 Everybody there was killed except Dr. Bosnik and 
 his family . that's what the paper says. You re 
 member the ioctor, don't you, dear ? " 
 
 201
 
 202 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 " Indeed, I do. He was so funny and rongh, but 
 awfully good. I wish he was my doctor instead of 
 Dr. Mandelstein. I hate him, I just hate him ! He 
 calls me his little monkey. You know, Samuel, he 
 has a monkey in his house ; my, but that's a fine 
 house ! He has five rooms, and a cook and a piano. 
 I wish I had a piano. It's so lonesome here all day. 
 If I had a piano, this is the way I would play." Her 
 fingers moved along the edge of the kitchen stove, 
 close to which her bed stood. "My ! I wish I could 
 play like Eivka 1 She took me with her last Sunday 
 to Mr. Bosenfelt's house and she played for me, after 
 she gave Eosalie her lesson. My, but she played ! 
 My heart just jumped, and I had to cry, and Eivka 
 cried too. I could feel the tears on her cheeks. Mr. 
 Eosenfelt was so funny. He said to Eivka : ' Har 
 you goink to heat up mine piano ? You'll break him 
 all to pieces. You vas not vorkink on a sewink ma 
 chine.' Then Eivka gave such a bang on the piano 
 that Mr. Eosenfelt jumped up and down as if he was 
 crazy." Malke laughed as she recalled Mr. Eosen 
 felt. 
 
 Samuel sighed deeply, for his thoughts were else 
 where. The little girl's fingers moved over his face, 
 and she said: "Dear Samuel, I didn't mean to 
 laugh when you are sad. Tell me, what makes you 
 so unhappy?" 
 
 " I have told you already," he replied. 
 
 "Is it that the Jews are being killed? I didn't
 
 HIS NAME WAS LOVE 203 
 
 know ; but, Samuel, papa said that that always has 
 been so, and always will be so. He says that we are 
 cursed by God. Is that true ? " 
 
 Samuel did not answer, and she continued : 
 " Samuel, are we cursed? Tell me ! It must be so ; 
 for I hadn't done anything to anybody when they 
 struck me over the head, had I, Samuel ? It must be 
 that God wanted it that way." 
 
 "No, Malke," and he spoke in a voice harsh and 
 tense. " It isn't true. God had nothing to do with 
 it. Oh ! Malke dear, don't bother me to-night. I 
 am just full of pain. Go to sleep, dearest ! " 
 
 He paced the small kitchen which also served as 
 bedroom for Malke, Tankev, and himself. Malke 
 was quiet as long as he walked. He stopped beside 
 her bed and looked down upon the poor, pale child, 
 whose eyes were bandaged, and who was growing 
 blind at the age of eight years. The mob had beaten 
 her innocent head ; therefore, the beautiful world 
 must be shut from her before she had quite caught a 
 glimpse of it. Samuel thought of the thousands and 
 thousands of sufferers, the homeless, beaten wander 
 ers who were leaving Poland and Eussia, and he felt 
 all their pain and agony, just as he felt the child's 
 pain and suffering. 
 
 " God ! God ! " he whispered, and the words came 
 from his lips passionately > "God? There is no 
 God ! " Then came to him those same monitions 
 which he had so often felt, the same visitant which
 
 204 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 had knocked at his child heart, seemed knocking 
 still, and the same exalted yearnings filled his soul. 
 He could not shake himself loose from the thought 
 that there was a God, and that He was then in the 
 room. He felt a pressure and a presence, from which 
 he could not free himself. 
 
 Malke spoke again. "Samuel, my head aches, 
 and I feel as if they were pulling my eyes out. Won't 
 you take me on your lap and stroke my head ? " 
 
 He lifted the child out of her bed. Her long, 
 angular body was pitiably thin. The nose and 
 mouth, the only features visible under the bandage, 
 looked delicate, sensitive, and as if used to pain. 
 
 She snuggled close to Samuel when he sat down, 
 and after freeing himself from her eager embrace he 
 began to stroke her head. "Samuel, dear, your 
 fingers feel to my head as if I was eating ice cream. 
 It is so hot inside my head ! just stroke it ; my, how 
 good it feels ! Tell me a story, Samuel." 
 
 "Not to-night, little one, you must go to sleep." 
 
 " Please do ; if you will tell me a story, then I will 
 tell you something," she said coaxingly. 
 
 " Not to-night, Malke, it's late, and if papa should 
 hear us he would scold." 
 
 Malke laughed. "Only listen," she said, and her 
 father's rhythmic snore was just then interrupted by 
 one of peculiar violence which made both of them 
 laugh. 
 
 "It sounded as if he had caught something with
 
 HIS NAME WAS LOVE 205 
 
 his mouth, didn't it?" she said. " Please tell 
 me a story, just a little story, and then I'll go to 
 sleep." 
 
 "Now you go into your bed," and Samuel lifted 
 her back, covered her and tucked her in "Now, 
 go to sleep." 
 
 " Just one story, Samuel," she pleaded. " Tell me 
 just one story and don't take your hand away from 
 my head, it feels so good. It's so dark and lonesome 
 in myself, tell me a story " and she clung to him 
 until he moved his chair beside her bed, put his hand 
 upon her head, and said : "All right, sweetheart, 
 I'll tell you a story. 
 
 " Long, long ago there was a man who came into a 
 country where there were many sick people. Some 
 of them couldn't walk, some of them couldn't hear, 
 and some of them couldn't see." 
 
 "Samuel, which is worse! not to hear or not to 
 see? " she interrupted him. 
 
 " Malke, you must be still and go to sleep. It hurt 
 the man very much to see the people suffer." 
 
 "Didn't they have any doctors?" Malke inter 
 rupted again. 
 
 "Yes, dear, they did, but they couldn't help every 
 body ; and besides, these people were very poor and 
 couldn't pay them." 
 
 "Like poor papa," Malke spoke again. "He 
 told me it costs an awful lot of money. Samuel, tell 
 me again. Did He really make the blind see ? " and
 
 206 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 she sat up straight in her bed and her hand caught 
 his. " Is that truly true, Samuel, dear ? " 
 
 "Yes, Malke, it is written in a book which I have 
 read ever so many times. It tells of one man who 
 was born blind, and he stood by the wayside, and 
 when this man came by, he cried out : l Thou Son of 
 David, have mercy on me.' " 
 
 " Was He a Jew ? " she interrupted. 
 
 "Yes, dear, and some of His disciples told the 
 blind man that he should not make such a noise ; but 
 he called out again : ' Thou Son of David, have 
 mercy on me.' Then this good man asked him what 
 he wanted, and he said : l That I might receive my 
 sight,' and He touched the man's eyes and he could 
 see." 
 
 Again Malke clutched his hand, and repeated : 
 " He could see ! Oh ! Samuel, if I had lived at that 
 time I would have waited a whole year for Him. 
 Samuel, Dr. Mandelstein told papa to-day, I heard 
 him say it : 'It's no use, she is blind.' Oh, it's ter 
 rible ! " and she began to cry. 
 
 11 Don't cry, sweetheart," and he stroked her head 
 soothingly, "don't cry ! " He tried to speak to her ; 
 but what he wished to say was locked in his heart 
 so deep that he could not say it. As he looked at 
 the poor helpless child again, he said : " Don't cry, 
 dearie ; we will send for Dr. Eosnik and he will 
 make you see." 
 
 The child held both his hands, gripping them
 
 HIS NAME WAS LOVE 207 
 
 nervously as she asked : " Samuel, didn't that man 
 tell anybody how He healed the blind people ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, Malke, He did. He told all His disciples to 
 go out and do the same thing ; but they have forgot 
 ten now, it's so long ago. Instead, they have been 
 making those who have eyes blind, just as they made 
 you. They have been making the well sick, they 
 have made prisoners of the free. You don't under 
 stand, Malke ; but they have forgotten. Now go to 
 sleep, little one." 
 
 " Samuel," the child said, as he once more tucked 
 her in between the scant and flimsy quilts, "what 
 was that man's name f " 
 
 "Go to sleep, Malke," he tried to evade her 
 question. 
 
 " Tell me, Samuel, and then I will go to sleep." 
 
 He sat down beside her, and, stroking her fore 
 head, he whispered in her ear: "His name was 
 Love." 
 
 "That's a beautiful name," she replied. 
 
 "Yes, dearie, it is beautiful. Love, just Love, 
 that was His name. Now go to sleep, my little 
 one." 
 
 "His name was Love a beautiful name" she 
 whispered softly, half-asleep. " His name was Love, 
 Love, just Love." 
 
 "Yes, dear," Samuel said. "He made the lame 
 walk, the deaf hear, and the blind see j His name 
 was Love go to sleep sleep sweet sleep. His
 
 208 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 name, dear, was Love just Love Love." As he 
 stroked her head, his hot tears fell upon her face ; 
 but she did not move, she was sound asleep.
 
 RIVKA DISCOVERS AMERICA 
 
 WITHOUT undressing, Samuel flung him 
 self upon the plush couch which served 
 as his bed, and waited for the sleep which 
 came but slowly. His overwrought brain was busy, 
 and the events of the day passed through it in swift 
 and wearying succession. The barber's snoring did 
 not tend to soothe his nerves ; but, little by little, his 
 senses seemed to be slipping from him, and he felt 
 himself being borne away upon the tranquil wings of 
 sleep. Then he heard some one feel for the key-hole 
 of the kitchen door, which was quietly opened, and 
 Eivka entered. By the light of the little flickering 
 night-lamp, she seemed to him beautiful ; her face 
 was radiant, and her gown, of some brilliant colour, 
 glistened as it swept the kitchen floor. She went at 
 once to Malke's bed and looked at her ; then as she 
 turned and saw Samuel's eyes following her, she 
 walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the 
 couch. 
 
 He opened his eyes wide now and noticed again 
 how handsome she looked. A new fire shone in her 
 black eyes, the gleam of battle which always lurked 
 in them was gone, and, instead, he saw a light there 
 
 209
 
 210 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 which was tender and mellow, yet exultant. He had 
 never noticed before that her cheeks were red, yet 
 they certainly were now ; while her complexion was 
 unnaturally fair. The dress she wore was gaudily 
 trimmed, and its colour was garish, as he saw it more 
 closely. 
 
 "Eivka," he said, as he took her outstretched 
 hand, "I must be dreaming, you look like a prin 
 cess, what has happened to you? Has your ward 
 robe come from Eussia f " he added with a smile. 
 
 Her voice had a strange quaver in it as she replied : 
 "No, Samuel, my wardrobe is still in Eussia, but I 
 have been in America, and it is wonderful, beautiful, 
 and full of friends, full of friends, Samuel. You were 
 right, old boy, if s full of friends." She laughed, 
 and even her laugh sounded unnatural. 
 
 "Tell me where you have been, Eivka!" he de 
 manded somewhat harshly. 
 
 " I told you, you stupid boy. I was in America, 
 right in it I have found it Mirrors, waxed floors, 
 beautiful women, and men oh 1 the men, Samuel, 
 the men ! They made me play for them. I played 
 Liszt's 'Ehapsodie Hungroise,' and then they called 
 for rag-time, and I gave them American rag-time in 
 Eussian style, and they liked it and asked for more. 
 One of them said that the way I played rag-time re 
 minded him of apple pie with caviare. Isn't that 
 funny ? And, Samuel, there was champagne 1 piff, 
 pafif, puff ! How the corks flew ! My head is just
 
 EIYKA DISCOVEES AMEEICA 211 
 
 going round and round. Samuel, my fortune is 
 made ! See these clothes, they are mine, and I am 
 to come to-morrow night and every night and play 
 for them in apple pie and caviare style. Isn't that 
 great ? No more cloaks for me, no more Mr. Eosen- 
 felt, no more music lessons for his Eosalie ! ' Yoost 
 my luck ! ' " and she wagged her tongue between her 
 lips, imitating her former " Boss." "Why don't 
 you congratulate me, Samuel ! Why do you stare at 
 me that way? " 
 
 He had lifted his head from the couch and looked 
 at her intently. His own face had flushed, and he 
 felt as if he were shaken by a fever. " Eivka," he 
 said, horror almost freezing the words upon his lips ; 
 u go to bed ; I can't stand anything more to-night. 
 Go to bed, this is terrible ! " 
 
 "What is terrible?" she said rising from the 
 couch. 
 
 " Nothing, Eivka. Go to bed, and to-morrow I'll 
 talk to you." 
 
 " I want to know what you think is terrible. That 
 I have left the sweatshop, and the sewing machine, 
 and Mr. Eosenfelt, and that I have given up my 
 chance of earning four dollars and fifty cents a week ? 
 That's what I got from our friend, Mr. Eosenfelt. 
 What is terrible ? tell me," and she gripped his arm 
 and held him down to the couch. " Tell me, Samuel, 
 what you are thinking." 
 
 "That can't matter to you," he said.
 
 212 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 "It can't matter! It matters everything what 
 you think about me, Samuel, everything." The 
 light which had glowed in her eyes died out and the 
 gleam of battle appeared. 
 
 " I have been thinking of Yankev, Rivka, what 
 he will say," Samuel replied, trying to delay the dis 
 closure of his own thoughts. 
 
 " Listen, Samuel. It does not matter one bit to 
 me what Yankev will think ; but it matters every 
 thing to me what you believe." 
 
 " Why what I believe, Eivka ! " 
 
 " Because, Samuel, what you believe of me I shall 
 be. Oh ! Samuel ! " and her voice grew tender as he 
 had never heard it before. "What you think of 
 me, I shall be" she was going to say something 
 more ; but quickly changed her words, if not her 
 thought. "Listen to me, Samuel. You are the 
 only man I know who has made me feel that I 
 wanted to do just what he wished me to do. You 
 have held me here six months in this place, worse 
 than a prison, when I wanted to go out and beat 
 down the prison walls of all these poor slaves that I 
 know. You have told me to be patient, and I have 
 been patient till to-night, when Eosenfelt doled out 
 to us our pitiable wage. Then I rebelled, and I went 
 out to see for myself. I wanted to taste the Amer 
 ican life, and, Samuel, I have tasted it. It's still like 
 fire in my veins. I like it, I love it, it was wonder 
 ful ! To play once more as I used to, to play myself
 
 EIYKA DISCOVEES AMEBICA 213 
 
 out, to give vent to the stored-up fire in my heart, 
 and burn away for a night my prison bars ! 
 
 "Now tell me, Samuel, what you think. I want 
 to know just what is this minute in your mind ; tell 
 me ! " She threw herself down beside him and took 
 his hands in hers. They did not know that the door 
 had opened and that Yankev stood behind them al 
 most petrified by the sight before him. 
 
 "I am intruding, am I?" he said sarcastically. 
 Then measuring with his blazing gray eyes the gor 
 geous gown that Eivka wore, and looking into her 
 face, the rouge upon it now streaked by tears, he 
 asked : " Were you rehearsing for a Purim play ? " 
 
 Eivka had risen and confronted him in silence ; 
 but her face had hardened, her mouth was firmly set, 
 and she met his contemptuous glance undisturbed. 
 
 " You look like Queen Esther," he said, pausing 
 long enough between words to make his insinuation 
 plain. 
 
 " You look like a fool ! " she replied without hesi 
 tation. 
 
 " Where did you get those clothes ? " 
 
 " That's none of your business," she replied. 
 
 1 1 It is my business, Eivka," and his voice rose to 
 an alarming pitch. 
 
 "Then, if it is your business, I will tell you. I 
 got this dress from Mr. Moskowsky, the proprietor 
 of the Alhambra Cafe"." 
 
 Yankev laughed loudly and derisively. " The Al-
 
 214 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 hambraf I suppose you were the Moorish princess 
 in the harem. I know now what yon are." 
 
 " It does not matter to me what you think I am 
 not one bit," Eivka replied coolly. 
 
 " It does not matter what I think, who have sacri 
 ficed myself for you t I, who have given my life for 
 yon ? It does not matter to me that you have gone to 
 the Alhambra and wear Moskowsky's trademark on 
 your back? " 
 
 "What do you meant" she said coming close to 
 him. 
 
 " What do I mean? I mean that you are a bad 
 woman, bad, bad ! that you are as the dust under my 
 feet, that this is no place for you, this home where 
 there are innocent girls sleeping, that you are pollut 
 ing the air. Leave the house, leave it, I say I " 
 
 Malke moved uneasily in her sleep. Yankev 
 caught Eivka' s arm and began to push her towards 
 the door. 
 
 11 Where am I to go, Yankev t Tell me, where am 
 I to go f " she said facing him. 
 
 "Go on the street where you came from. Go, I 
 say, or I shall wake the whole house. I shall call 
 the police. Go, I say on the street ! " 
 
 " Very well," she said, "if you say so I shall go 
 on the street," and she passed out of the door, with 
 a tender look towards Malke, who had wakened and 
 did not understand what the noise meant. Yankev, 
 in his blind rage, threw himself upon the floor ; but
 
 EIVKA DISCOVEES AMERICA 215 
 
 Samuel followed Eivka through the door which she 
 had left open. 
 
 When he reached the street, he caught a glimpse 
 of her as she disappeared in the throng which still 
 filled the Bowery ; he followed her quickly, although 
 with little hope of overtaking her. His steps led 
 him towards Fourteenth Street, which was brilliantly 
 illuminated, and thronged by people just coming 
 from the theatres. He passed crowds of well-dressed 
 and seemingly happy men and women. At the Inter 
 section of Broadway, carriages, automobiles, and 
 vehicles of all sorts crowded each other ; while the 
 street cars swerved with amazing swiftness around 
 the corners which led from Broadway to Union 
 Square. 
 
 He had seen Broadway full of shoppers and work 
 ers in eager haste ; but this leisurely, happy throng 
 was new to him, and a sense of real wonder filled 
 him as for a moment he faced the giddy stream, then 
 was caught by it and carried along in its alluring 
 current. 
 
 The music which came floating through the cur 
 tained windows of the magnificent restaurants, the 
 swift beat of horses' hoofs upon the asphalt pave 
 ment, the opening and shutting of carriage doors, the 
 throb and beat of automobiles, accompanied by the 
 sudden blast of their horns, the laughter of the gay 
 crowd, the dancing and gliding letters of flame which 
 caught his vision with new surprise every moment,
 
 216 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 drew him along fascinated. He forgot the weariness 
 of his body and the import of his quest. 
 
 Little by little his eyes grew accustomed to the 
 sights and sounds, and he began to feel himself re 
 lated to the crowd and part of it, this solid stream of 
 life ; gay, happy, and thoughtless. 
 
 He wandered as far as Forty-second Street and 
 then back again, carried along as by a flood. Grad 
 ually he became conscious of the units which com 
 posed this mass. 
 
 Men and women walked together, most of them 
 young or trying to appear young, and seeing in each 
 other's eyes more light and life than the street re 
 vealed to them. Men in groups or sauntering on 
 alone, and women alone, attracted his attention, espe 
 cially the women. They had smiles for everybody. 
 They did not speak a word to him or to any man, 
 and yet he understood, immediately. One after the 
 other they passed him, as weary as he, yet moving 
 along gaily. Heavy-hearted, no doubt, yet smiling 
 at every man, whether he smiled back or not. They 
 came and went, casting their spell around him, and 
 he felt himself borne along, his brain benumbed, his 
 soul dumb from the longing for love. Nothing seemed 
 to matter. Eivka, Malke, the terror in Russia, even 
 his father all faded, and he was conscious of nothing 
 but his desire for love. Suddenly one woman, bolder 
 than the others, came close to him, leering up into 
 his face. Her glance stung him like the bite of an
 
 EIVKA DISCOVEES AMEEICA 217 
 
 adder and the spell cast over him was broken. His 
 benumbed brain woke to action. Again he felt his 
 physical weariness, and the wings of forgetfulness 
 which had carried him, were broken. 
 
 Just where Twenty-third Street crosses Broadway, 
 he leaned wearily against a huge building and looked 
 towards the mass of humanity still pouring itself 
 through that great chasm with its glowing lights. 
 They came and went, the men and the women ; the 
 men who walked alone, who were lured and who were 
 luring ; and then the women the women, who 
 walked the street alone. 
 
 There at the edge of the crowd stood one of them, 
 not knowing whether to cast herself into it or not. 
 She stood upon the curbing, then she moved towards 
 the crossing, and, passing over it, was full in the glare 
 of the electric light. "Eivka, Eivka ! " Samuel 
 called ; for he recognized her at once. The clang of 
 the street-cars and the other noises drowned his 
 words. His tired limbs responded to the effort he 
 made, as he pushed through the gay throng to the 
 curb which she had now reached. "Eivka! 
 Eivka!" he called again, and again she did not 
 hear ; but, looking up, saw him running towards 
 her with hands outstretched as if to keep her from 
 advancing. She stepped backwards, just one step 
 over the curbing. At the same instant, an automo 
 bile whizzed past with a rush, which sounded to her 
 like the roar of thunder ; then came a flash of light,
 
 218 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 filling her eyes, penetrating her brain, and seeming 
 to set it on fire. Then it grew silent and dark, and 
 although Samuel cried: "Eivka! Oh, Eivka!" 
 although the crowd surged around them both, and 
 although the gong of the ambulance came nearer and 
 nearer, all remained dark and silent for Eivka, who 
 lay bruised and bleeding in Samuel's arms.
 
 XX 
 INCENSE AND CHLOROFORM 
 
 OVEE the white cots which lined the women's 
 ward of the hospital hovered the light of 
 early dawn, revealing in ghastly distinct 
 ness the wreckage wrought upon humanity by those 
 ills to which "the flesh is heir." White-capped 
 Sisters of Charity glided to and fro, sanctifying and 
 glorifying by their self-forgetful ministry the menial 
 tasks which they performed. 
 
 The room seemed silent ; yet it was full of sup 
 pressed groans and heavy sighs, which the patient 
 nurses tried to soothe into quiet. The noises of the 
 city came muffled through the windows, partially 
 closed to the dampness of the night ; but when the 
 sunlight mingled with the dawn they were opened, 
 and the spring air came floating in buoyantly, joy 
 fully almost, eager to drive out the " winter of dis 
 content," which had been so firmly established in 
 many a heart, dead to courage and hope. 
 
 A strange new odour permeated the atmosphere, 
 heavy from ether and iodoform an odour which was 
 a perfume, and which grew richer and stronger each 
 moment. When the shielding screens were with 
 drawn from the cots, the sufferers saw banks of grace 
 ful and spotlessly white lilies arranged in the form 
 
 219
 
 220 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 of a huge cross at one side of the room. Among these 
 were pots of delicately tinted, pink azaleas and roses, 
 exquisite in their colours of love and life. 
 
 Sister Beatrice was busy with the tasks of the 
 morning at the bedside of her patient, Eivka, who 
 lay there, haggard and worn, her large eyes shining 
 from out her emaciated face, and following the move 
 ments of the Sister with a searching glance. 
 
 " Good-morning," said the kindly nurse, when she 
 noticed that Eivka was awake. 
 
 "Good-morning," murmured Bivka, who found it 
 no easy task to summon her senses from the entangle 
 ment into which they had fallen through the delirium 
 which followed her accident and also through the 
 frequent use of opiates, made necessary by her acute 
 suffering. 
 
 The nurse took her temperature, administered 
 medicine, smoothed the linen of her bed, and then 
 brought to the little table which stood by it a tall lily 
 with half-a-dozen flowers in full bloom. Eivka' s 
 eyes rested intently upon the flowers, and she asked : 
 " Why is this?" 
 
 "It's Easter," the Sister answered. "Don't you 
 know? Easter. Christus voskresheni," (Christ is 
 risen) she said in Eussian. 
 
 " You are a Eussian, Sister ? " 
 
 " No, I am a Pole," the Sister replied. 
 
 "Then we are enemies ! " said Eivka with a bitter 
 smile.
 
 INCENSE AND CHLOEOFOEM 221 
 
 " Why ? " asked the nurse. 
 
 "You are a Pole and I am a Eussian enemies. 
 You are a Christian, I am a Jewess enemies we are 
 all enemies." 
 
 " No, my dear child," Sister Beatrice said tenderly, 
 " we are friends ; He made us friends." 
 
 "Who made us friends ? " Eivka asked. 
 
 " Jesus made us friends." 
 
 A cynical smile moved over Eivka' s face, and she 
 muttered : " Enemies, He made us enemies, we are 
 all enemies." 
 
 "No, dear child," the Sister said again, tenderly, 
 1 'we are all friends. This is our Father's house no 
 one will harm you here. You are a Eussian Jewess 
 and I am a Polish Catholic ; but I am your friend and 
 your servant for His sake," and she pointed to the 
 crucifix which hung from her girdle. " Now be 
 courageous and hopeful ; because this is the 
 day " 
 
 "The day," Eivka interrupted, and her pale face 
 flushed for a moment, "the day in which I am to 
 die?" 
 
 "No, we hope you are to live, the doctor will make 
 you live. A doctor of your own faith, brought to 
 you by your friend who has been here every day." 
 A knowing smile flitted over the unworldly face of 
 the Sister. 
 
 Eivka' s wan face lighted. " Has he really come ? 
 How happy Samuel must be," she said to herself.
 
 222 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 The bells of the hospital-chapel rang out clearly, 
 and from below came floating through the vast room 
 the solemn but joyous strains of the morning Mass. 
 Through the silent corridor, Samuel came with his 
 long-looked for friend, Dr. Eosnik. Yaukev was 
 with them. He had haunted the hospital the four 
 weeks during which Eivka had hovered between life 
 and death, awaiting the day when an operation would 
 shift the weight of the balances one way or the other. 
 Dr. Eosnik, who had come to America as the oth 
 ers had come, driven by the tempest of hate, was to 
 assist the hospital physicians, adding his skill and 
 experience to theirs. 
 
 "Smell that! Smell that!" Dr. Eosnik said in 
 his old-time cynical way, " incense and chloroform ! 
 With incense the Church has amputated the heads of 
 humanity, and with chloroform she amputates its 
 legs. She saves the belly." 
 
 11 Is that worth saving ? " Samuel asked. 
 
 " Yes, Samuel, it is, if they would keep it filled. I 
 tell you, Samuel, an empty stomach is worse than 
 none. I know something about it now. I would 
 have given I don't know what, if I could have had a 
 good piece of stewed meat and some soup on board 
 ship. Samuel, when our forefathers went out of 
 Egypt, the first thing they missed was the fleshpots 
 the leeks and the garlics. We Jews have an his 
 toric appetite. Now they want to go back to Zion 
 because Yankev, shall I tell you why? Because
 
 INCENSE AND CHLOEOFOEM 223 
 
 they think it is 'flowing with milk and honey,' tra 
 la la la milk and honey t Fiddlesticks ! Tankev, 
 when you go back to Zion you'd better take over a 
 can of condensed milk and a loaf of sugar, or else 
 you'll drink your tea without them. Tra la la la ! 
 A nice job you have kept for me, Samuel, a Jewish 
 sweatshop girl, poor as a mouse. "Whose sweetheart 
 is she anyway ? " and he looked teasingly at Yankev. 
 "I tell you what, boys, you don't need to quarrel 
 about who is going to get her. From what I've seen 
 of her and from what I know must be done to her, 
 you may each have a part. Now one of you go up 
 stairs and tell the Sister that I am ready. I'll be 
 over in the operating-room with the other doctors. 
 Tra la la la," and he left them at the foot of the 
 stairs. 
 
 Both the men went up to the women's ward, both 
 passed the cross of lilies which flanked the white- 
 sheeted cote, and both stood by Eivka's bed one at 
 one side and one at the other. They looked at her 
 drawn face, so full of pain and suffering, and tears 
 filled their eyes. Yankev, unable to control his 
 emotion, sobbed aloud. Eivka heard him, and, 
 opening her eyes, said : " I am going on the street, 
 Yankev as you told me to. It is a muddy street ; 
 the mud is very deep, and I am sinking in it. Good 
 bye, Yankev it is a muddy street, the mud is very 
 deep the lights are like little dancing glowworms 
 and I don't know which way to go go home,
 
 224 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Yankev, to your clean, respectable home on Biving- 
 ton Street ; while I go on the muddy street." 
 
 "Bivka," Yankev cried and grasped her hands, 
 " forgive me, forgive me ! Don't send me away ! I 
 want to stay here, I want to be with you. Forgive 
 me ! I was mad from jealousy and I didn't know 
 what I was saying. Eivka, I have suffered, oh, how 
 I have suffered!" and groaning he fell upon his 
 knees by the cot. 
 
 Sister Beatrice, who had heard Yankev' s outcry, 
 came protectingly between her patient and the ex 
 cited man. 
 
 Bivka's eyes turned towards Samuel, who, seated 
 by her side, was looking intently into her face, as if 
 trying to penetrate the depths of her suffering, that 
 he might heal her. 
 
 11 Samuel," she said, her hand seeking his, " I was 
 on the muddy street." 
 
 " Yes, Bivka, I know you were, and so was I." 
 
 " Samuel, I fell in the mud and the slush, and was 
 bruised." 
 
 " Yes, Bivka, you fell in the mud ; but you were 
 not soiled." 
 
 " You believe that I was not soiled, Samuel ? " A 
 bright and grateful smile lighted her face. 
 
 "Yes, Bivka, I believe it, I know it. I know, 
 too, how slippery it is, for I also nearly fell ; but oh ! 
 Bivka, you are hurt, and it is my fault !" 
 
 " Yes, Samuel, it is your fault that I am hurt, but
 
 INCENSE AND CHLOEOFOEM 225 
 
 it is also your fault that I was not soiled by the mud. 
 Samuel," and her hands pressed his, "Samuel, I am 
 going to die ; but it is better to die here than in the 
 mud. Oh ! there is just one place where I'd rather 
 die than on this white bed, just one place, and that 
 is St. Petersburg, on the banks of the Neva. There, 
 where the soil is red from the blood of the patriots, 
 there I should love to die. Have you any news from 
 Eussia, Samuel?" 
 
 "Yes, Eivka, Kulchovsky is dead." 
 
 The blood mounted to her face, joy flushed her 
 cheeks as she cried : 1 1 Killed by Sasha Federovna t ' ' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I knew she would do it ! I knew she would do 
 it ! She will die on the banks of the Neva ! Oh, 
 what a glorious death ! Yankev," and she turned to 
 her sorrowing lover, " go home. Good-bye, Yankev, 
 I thank you for your love and your sacrifice, but go. 
 I must go on the street." 
 
 She sank back, her face as white as the pillow 
 upon which it rested. "I must go on the muddy 
 street. Go, Yankev." Yankev still knelt by her 
 cot, clutching the iron rail with both hands as if to 
 resist forcible removal. 
 
 Sister Beatrice came and whispered to Eivka. 
 
 "Yes, Sister, yes, Sister, tell them to go, make me 
 ready ; we are not enemies, we are friends. Yes, 
 make me ready. Samuel, I am to be made ready for 
 death. I wanted to die for Eussia now I want to
 
 226 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 live. Oh ! it's cruel, fearfully cruel ! the pain ! the 
 agony ! the death ! It all looks so dark, so terrible ! " 
 
 1 'No, Eivka," Samuel said, "it is not terrible, it 
 is beautiful. I have been near it, as near as one can 
 be and yet live. Eivka, it is not terrible, it is sub 
 lime." 
 
 " Is it a land of friends, Samuel! Like Eosenfelt 
 and the Bowery and Broadway ? Samuel, is it a land 
 of friends? Yes, I know, Samuel. I was only at the 
 edge of it, just at the edge of it. One night, Samuel, 
 I was in America and it was terrible as death, ah 
 ah ah terrible as death," she groaned aloud. 
 "Ah! terrible as death! When you found me, 
 Samuel, it was more awful than death." 
 
 Noiselessly a chair was wheeled to the cot, and, 
 when Eivka saw it, she said in a startled voice, 
 " Look, Samuel, the ship which is to carry me to the 
 land of friends. Oh ! Samuel, I am afraid. Hold 
 me, hold [me in your arms, Samuel, you are good. 
 Oh ! I wanted to be good, but I hadn't time to think 
 about it. I have been getting ready for death these 
 ten years, and never thought about being good. I 
 was so busy, there was so much to do. The people 
 were so ignorant, so poor so ignorant, so poor," she 
 repeated. "Oh! Samuel, you make me feel that I 
 want to be good. Hold me, hold me tight, keep 
 death away ! Tell me, how do you know that death 
 isn't terrible? Tell me, Samuel 1 " Her eyes were 
 fixed on him pleadingly.
 
 INCENSE AND CHLOEOFOEM 227 
 
 " Eivka, I'll tell you. There was once a man who 
 was always busy, as busy as you were helping the 
 people who were ignorant and poor and sick. The 
 rulers condemned Him and crucified Him, and then 
 they buried Him ; but He rose from the grave." 
 
 From the chapel below came the vibrant notes of 
 the organ and the sweet voices of the choir. Christw 
 Eesurrector Christus - 
 
 "Oh, pshaw!" said Eivka. "An old woman's 
 tale." She sank back upon her pillow. "Some 
 more 'land of friends.' Now go, both of you! I 
 am ready, sister. .Good-bye, Yankev, good-bye, my 
 Zionistic sheep." 
 
 Yankev rose, crying : " Eivka, forgive me, for 
 give me !" 
 
 ' ' Nothing to forgive, Yankev. Eemember me when 
 you drink the milk and suck the honey of Zion. A 
 prosperous journey to you. Good-bye, Samuel," and 
 her hands went out to him. "I am going to the 
 land of friends." 
 
 " Eivka, you are not going to die. Dr. Eosnik 
 will make you well." 
 
 "Samuel, do you remember when we came into 
 New York harbour I " 
 
 "Yes, Eivka, how beautiful it was !" 
 
 "For you, but not for me. I knew better. 'The 
 land of friends,' ha, ha ! Mr. Eosenfelt. ' Yoost 
 my luck ! ' ' Yoost my luck I ' Now you must both 
 go good-bye."
 
 228 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Yankev rushed down the stairs, in piteous despera 
 tion ; while Samuel lingered in the corridor where 
 the odours of incense and chloroform mingled. He 
 was drawn by the incense, and following it to the 
 chapel below, stood by the open door, looking long 
 ingly in at the officiating priest, who was elevating 
 the Host. Like a flash, there came to him the vision 
 of an Easter day in the long ago, when he had stood 
 beside the open door of the chapel in Kunova, watch 
 ing Father Antonius with longing eyes. 
 
 "Hoc est enim corpus meim." 
 
 Unnoticed he stole into the chapel and fell upon 
 his knees. The nuns had prostrated themselves in 
 adoration before the uplifted Host ; incense and chlo 
 roform mingled in the air, soothing Samuel's over 
 taxed nerves. He sank into a wearied stupor, and 
 when he awoke, the notes of the organ were echoing 
 in his ears, and the Sisters were silently passing from 
 their mountain-top of vision to their tasks in the 
 valley of suffering. Then came the priest. Samuel 
 started ; was he dreaming ? Could it be possible that 
 he was really back in Kunova, and was this the long 
 ecstasy of childhood ? Was the pain which he felt 
 only a reaction ? This priest, in the garb of a Do 
 minican monk, bowed by the heaviness of years, his 
 face still radiant and sweet, was like that priest of 
 long ago, who had opened the gates of heaven or 
 unbarred the depths of hell Samuel knew not 
 which.
 
 INCENSE AND CHLOEOFOEM 229 
 
 He could think nothing more ; for scarcely had he 
 cried : " Father Antonius ! " than they were clasped 
 in one another's arms and were looking into each 
 other's tear-dimmed eyes.
 
 MORE " MACKES " 
 
 Y I Oy ! Oy ! What a place, what a 
 place ! " an old man groaned as he turned 
 from the avenue into one of the most 
 crowded streets of the Ghetto. "Mine enemies 
 should have to find a number in a street as long as 
 the whole district of Kottowin ! ' ' Wearily he turned 
 to the right and to the left, crossing and recrossing 
 the street, searching every doorway for its number ; 
 while he slowly moved from block to block. The 
 burden of years was heavy upon him, he was bent 
 nearly double, his large head shook as from palsy 
 and he lifted his feet wearily, groaning at every step. 
 
 His presence in the street excited no comment and 
 his groans elicited no sympathy ; for that locality 
 was full of his kind. These aged ones were like up 
 rooted oaks transplanted to an uncongenial climate, 
 and fastlosing their remaining vigour in the strange 
 soil of this new continent. 
 
 At last the old man, after having searched six long 
 blocks for it, found the number : 617. He entered 
 the dark hall and began climbing the stairs to the 
 topmost storey, groaning continually, and often stop 
 ping to draw his scant measure of breath. 
 
 230
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 231 
 
 It was Sunday morning, two weeks after Easter, 
 and the dwellers in the tenements had not yet stirred. 
 This Christian Sunday was to them the Sabbath 
 their own seventh day being nearly blotted out of the 
 calendar of these East-side Jews as well as from that 
 of all Jewry in America. 
 
 " Eeb Abraham I That can't be you I Well, well, 
 well ! Glad to see you ! Nu, nu ! Did you ever ! " 
 
 The barber called out one ejaculation after the 
 other, as he opened the door in answer to the old 
 man's knock. 
 
 "Sit down, Eeb Abraham, sit down 1 Nu, how 
 glad I am to see you ! Put down that bag. Tell me 
 how are you, and where have you been? " 
 
 " Oy, oy ! Mine enemies should get along the way 
 I did ! Ts, ts ! An old man like me, such an old 
 man as I am they send to Chicago ! "When I came 
 there they put me to work in a sweat-shop could you 
 believe it! In a sweat-shop I I could no more run 
 a sewing-machine than I could run a locomotive ! 
 Oy, oy ! I didn't see a page of the Talmud all the 
 time I was in Chicago ! A trepha (unclean) trepha 
 town ! They kill more swine there in a day than 
 they have killed in Kottowin from the time of the 
 great Cholera until now." 
 
 While he spoke, his eyes were nervously searching 
 for something, and he listened intently to the sounds 
 of deep breathing which came from an adjoining 
 room. He only half heard, when the barber said :
 
 232 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 "Beb Abraham, in this country the Talmud has 
 as much chance as a tallow candle. Who wants tal 
 low candles when you need only to touch a button 
 and you have more light than ever shone out of all 
 the tallow candles in creation? Your Talmud is a 
 back number, a tallow candle." 
 
 "You were always a heathen," replied the old 
 man. "What have your books and your novels 
 done ? They weaned my son from his faith, they cor 
 rupted our whole community, and you are fyere like 
 the rest of the Jews, making clothes. What comfort 
 do you get out of your poetry and your philosophy ? " 
 
 "Beb Abraham," replied the barber; "if you 
 weren't such an old man I would say what I said to 
 you a great many years ago. You are an old fogy ! 
 Forgive me, will you? It wasn't my novels or my 
 poetry that drove your son from you. It was your 
 musty old Talmud. That son of yours is the finest 
 boy who ever grew up in Kottowin, and he might 
 now be a light in Israel if you hadn't crammed his 
 head so full of dead, dull stuff and nonsense, that his 
 brain rebelled against it, just as the stomach rebels 
 if you feed it on rubbish ! As for my poetry, Beb 
 Abraham, I wouldn't sell you what I have in my 
 heart for all the money of the Bothschilds. Beb 
 Abraham, when I sit by my sewing-machine and it 
 goes whirr ! whirr ! It sounds to me like music 
 sweet music ! Do you hear those elevated trains 
 bang, bang, bang! I don't hear the bang to me
 
 MOKE "MACKES" 233 
 
 if s music, while to you it is only noise. Listen, Eeb 
 Abraham, what my machine told me yesterday af 
 ternoon. Now, listen ! This is not trepha poetry, 
 it's kosher. 
 
 " ' Ton are mine, oh ! servant of flesh and bone, 
 
 Though I am bat wood and steel ; 
 I own you my servant of mind and soul, 
 Though I am but a rod and a wheel.' 
 
 Then, Beb Abraham, while I was stitching away, 
 I talked to my machine, and I said : 
 
 " 4 You own me ? Oh ! master of wood and steel ? 
 
 You may own my flesh and my bone, 
 You own not my feelings, you own not my heart, 
 For master / am and servant thou art.' 
 
 Eeb Abraham, America without poetry is like hell 
 without a visit from Dante. You don't know who 
 Dante was, do you, Eeb Abraham? So much the 
 worse for you I" 
 
 " Oy, oy 1 " The old man groaned. " America ! 
 I wish I had never seen America ! Here every Jew 
 is an apostate, every child turns against its father's 
 faith ; they grow up like the heathen ! I asked a 
 boy in Chicago where I boarded, what we do on the 
 Day of Atonement, and he said : ' We eat unleavened 
 bread!' Don't laugh, man, don't laugh ! The Day 
 of Atonement I have had a long day of it ! Since 
 my sainted wife died till now it has been one 
 long Day of Atonement!" Sighing deeply, he 
 looked longingly at the closed door on the other side
 
 234 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 of the room, and asked hesitatingly " Is he there 
 my apostate son I " 
 
 " No, Eeb Abraham, he left here about ten min 
 utes before you came. He went to the hospital to 
 see a sick girl." 
 
 " A girl 1 " The old man cried ; great anxiety in 
 his voice. ' ' Is she one of us ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " The barber replied. "She is a 
 Eussian girl." 
 
 "Thank God !" Abraham exclaimed, almost joy 
 fully. " Then my son is not worshipping the images 
 any more ; thank God ! Now tell me all about 
 him." 
 
 "Yes, Eeb Abraham; but you are tired and 
 hungry. Lie down on the sofa first, and I'll bring 
 you a cup of coffee. Then you'll see some more 
 Kottowiners ! There are several of them right here. 
 Dr. Eosnik is getting up now. ' How are the mighty 
 fallen ! ' Eeb Abraham. To think that I should be 
 boarding Dr. Eosnik ! A man who lived in a palace. 
 And his son, Sigismund the Herr Von Sigismund ! 
 He boards here too." 
 
 From the next room they could hear Dr. Eosnik' s 
 "Tra la la," while he noisily performed his ablu 
 tions. After a short time he appeared and cordially 
 greeted his old acquaintance. 
 
 "It's good to see you, Eeb Abraham ! Nu, you 
 have travelled far in your old days, and suffered 
 much; but, Eeb Abraham, you have one great
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 235 
 
 blessing left you in your son. Such a boy can't be 
 found in all New York. He is like gold. My 
 Sigismund, compared with your son, is like what 
 shall I say? Like unbuttered potatoes compared 
 with Sabbath beans. Yes, he is a great boy. He 
 is hungry to see you, Eeb Abraham ; he is eat 
 ing his heart out to see you. When he comes, love 
 him, love him ! The boy is almost dying from the 
 want of your love. Don't let a few drops of baptis 
 mal water keep you two apart." 
 
 "But, Dr. Eosnik," the old man asked anxiously, 
 "does he look like a priest! Is his head shaved f 
 Does he wear a cross t " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied the doctor, sipping his 
 coffee and smoking his cigarette. "Nonsense! Eeb 
 Abraham. He looks like Joseph the son of Jacob, 
 when he was in prison in Egypt ; just such a boy 
 and just as kosher. Now, no more nonsense" as 
 the old man began to groan. " Let bygones be by 
 gones. You have nobody in the world but this son. 
 I'll tell you what we'll do ; we'll surprise him. I 
 am going to the hospital after dinner and you must 
 come too. Sigismund will come also. You know 
 Sigismund, don't you?" 
 
 Although the Ghetto did not observe the Sabbath 
 from any religious motive, it imitated in external 
 things the great Christian world across the Bowery. 
 It brought out its fineries and its spring millinery,
 
 236 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 which it flaunted on Houston Street, even as the 
 more fashionable world displayed its purple and fine 
 linen on Fifth Avenue, across the great financial 
 chasm. Its streets and avenues were full of men and 
 women, warming themselves in the mellow sunshine, 
 and critically surveying each other's costumes. In 
 this last respect the Ghetto could give Fifth Avenue 
 valuable instruction ; for it knew the wholesale price 
 of the goods displayed, it knew the shoddy article 
 from the genuine, and it had an eye keen enough to 
 distinguish paste diamonds from real ones. 
 
 Eeb Abraham, Dr. Eosnik and his son, Sigismund, 
 walked on Avenue B, away from the squalor of the 
 Ghetto, and uptown towards the hospital on Eleventh 
 Street. Dr. Eosnik still bore marks of the old world 
 in his dress, to which he clung somewhat tenaciously. 
 His manner also was unchanged. He was smoking 
 a cigarette, and every few minutes he would stop in 
 his walk and rap nervously with his gold-headed 
 cane against an iron railing, which led into some 
 basement or cellar ; while his tantalizing tra la la 
 was in continual evidence. His son, now twenty- 
 four years of age, was fresh from the University of 
 Vienna, where he had gone to finish his medical 
 education. He had failed in his examinations, and 
 had returned to Kottowin just before the fatal po 
 grom, the brutalities of which had caused the death 
 of his mother, and sent him and his father to America. 
 He possessed none of his father's ruggedness, but he
 
 MORE "MACKES" 237 
 
 had great suavity of manner. His dress, down to the 
 yellow, broad-soled shoes, was already adjusted to 
 the spring styles of New York. Life and its burdens 
 rested lightly upon him, for he had early learned to 
 cast them upon the broad shoulders of his father. 
 He quickly penetrated into the mysteries of American 
 life, knew where to buy imported Russian cigarettes, 
 where the best vaudeville performances were given, 
 and already preferred poker to clabrias, the game of 
 the Vienna coffee-houses. 
 
 " Papa," Sigismund drawled sarcastically ; he had 
 inherited his father's talent for biting speech. 
 "This is your Palestine that your eyes wanted to 
 behold. Now behold." 
 
 " Sigismund," his father answered, imitating his 
 drawl, "if you knew anything about the Bible you 
 would know that you really are in Palestine. Even 
 in Jerusalem there couldn't have been any more Jews 
 together than there are in New York. And King 
 Solomon and all his wives could not have been ar 
 rayed any more gorgeously than are Mr. and Mrs. 
 Solomon Isaacson of Houston Street. I have seen 
 more diamonds in the last five minutes than King 
 Solomon saw in all his life. The Queen of Sheba 
 would have turned up her nose at him, I am sure, if 
 he had looked half as vulgar as Mr. Solomon Isaacson 
 looks. ' ' Then the doctor beat his cane against a lamp 
 post, and, puffing at his cigarette, said: "Nu, Reb 
 Abraham, where are your thoughts? With your
 
 238 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 son? So I supposed. Nu, he is worth thinking 
 about. He is a golden son, yes, a golden son but he 
 is working his fingers off. He will yet be something 
 great. He isn't like my Sigismund, who cares only 
 to play the gentleman and never wants to work." 
 Sigismund removed his eyes for a moment from the 
 young women on whom they had been fastened. 
 
 "Work, that's all they think about, these 
 Americans ! They want me to work too ine, a 
 graduate of the Vienna University 1 " 
 
 " My son, you are a graduate of Vienna ; but not 
 of the University," his father interrupted him. 
 " You know all that the city of Vienna could teach 
 you ; but of medicine you know only enough to keep 
 yourself from going to the devil too quickly. You're 
 going there, eins, zwei, drei ! " and he beat the time 
 on an iron lamp-post. " A somewhat slow tempo, but 
 growing faster all the time. Only, my son, remem 
 ber, that over here you'll have to go to hell at your 
 own expense. Your father is nearly bankrupt. 
 The only case I have had besides Eivka and Malke 
 is Mr. Eosenfelt's precious Eosalie, who is suffering 
 from nervousness, they call it over here ; in Poland 
 we would call it stomach-ache. She devours candy 
 by the pound ; she doesn't chew it, she just swallows 
 it as a boa-constrictor swallows rabbits. Mr. Eosen- 
 felt paid me fifty cents for three visits. He said : 
 'I gets eferytink at 'olesale brice.' Oy, oy, oy ! 
 That's the way with the Jews. Look at those push-
 
 MOEE "M ACRES" 239 
 
 cart peddlers ; they have a tough job, I tell you ; 
 they too have to sell everything at wholesale. Oy, 
 oy, oy ! A Jewish customer the Lord deliver us 
 from him !" 
 
 In the meantime, Samuel had been at the hospital, 
 where he found Eivka recovering very quickly, and 
 in even less danger of being permanently crippled 
 than Dr. Eosnik had anticipated. What had drawn 
 him there so frequently, however, was not Eivka, 
 for whom he had only the loyal feeling of a comrade 
 but Father Antonius, who was chaplain of the 
 hospital, and the one link which bound him to a 
 tragic and an eventful past 
 
 "My son," said Father Antonius to Samuel as 
 they sat together in the father's room after Mass. 
 "The girl is recovering; but you give me great 
 cause for anxiety. You look worn and sad, and no 
 wonder. You are here early in the morning and late 
 at night, after working like a slave all day. You 
 will have to take care." 
 
 " Don't worry, Father Autonius, I am in no danger. 
 My body is all right ; it's tough. As for the early 
 rising and the hard work, you know I am used to 
 those things. What wears me out, is not the hard 
 work, but this continual conflict within me, this 
 fighting in the dark against these giants struggling 
 for my soul. Oh, Father Antonius ! I envy you 
 your peace ! If I but had my peace again ! My 
 peace.!"
 
 240 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 "My dear son," the monk said tenderly; " my 
 dear son, I wish I could bestow it upon you but 
 conflict is the lot of some of us. I too have my 
 struggles, which God alone witnesses. He helps. 
 Oh, my son ! ' Cast your burden on the Lord.' " 
 
 "On the Lord, Father ? " Samuel repeated, doubt 
 in every tone. " I am doubly orphaned. I am cast 
 off in heaven and on earth. I can't pray any more 
 it sounds like mockery to me. I come here hungry 
 for peace, and I go away with the contest still raging. 
 The Mass ! Oh, Father ! " He leaned his head upon 
 the monk's shoulder. " Oh, Father, the Mass ! 
 How its mysteries used to soothe me how near to 
 God I felt 1 Now, every time I seethe elevated Host, 
 I hear myself accused, my whole race damned by 
 Him who long ago cried : ' Forgive them, for they 
 know not what they do.' To-day I came here so 
 weary, I thought I should find rest and peace. What 
 a comfort the old Psalms were and the hymns but 
 the Gospel 1 Father Antonius, who put all that 
 hatred of the Jews into the Gospel! Who did it? 
 It's horrible ! I hate those that crucified Him, I hate 
 my own flesh and blood, and then I hate Him, the 
 cause of it all ! That Christ ! " 
 
 Unstrung and wretched as Samuel was, he sobbed 
 like a little child ; while Father Antonius vainly 
 tried to comfort him. 
 
 " If I could only really hate that Christ ! " Samuel 
 cried. "If I could but forget His loveliness! If I
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 241 
 
 could persuade myself that He is dead, a dead traitor to 
 His people ! But, Father Antonius, I feel Him every 
 moment, in every breath I breathe ! I can't think of 
 God, of life, of love, of anything good, without Him ! 
 He is the source of everything that is pure and holy 
 within me 1 When I think evil thoughts it is He 
 who chides me and keeps me from temptation ! If 
 there were only a way back ! If I could only flee 
 from His spirit, I'd go to the uttermost parts of the 
 earth ! If I could only hate Him and forget Him, 
 and forget my past as well ! " 
 
 Great, heart-breaking sobs wrung themselves from 
 Samuel's breast ; for he did not weep easily. The 
 fourteen years in the monastery had sealed the foun 
 tains of emotion and each tear, as it fell upon the 
 white robe of Father Antonius, was like a blood-drop 
 drawn from some deep, hidden vein. 
 
 Then, as if ashamed of his weakness, Samuel rose, 
 and, repressing his unwonted agitation, said : "I 
 must forget I will forget for my father's sake. 
 Let me go, Father Antonius ! Let me go ! " He 
 unwound himself from the restraining arms of his 
 spiritual father, who, alas ! could not comfort him ; 
 for he, too, was in the midst of a great struggle, 
 whose end was not yet. 
 
 When Samuel left the hospital he turned his face 
 towards the East Side. He walked along the mo 
 notonous stretches of streets, pushing his way mechan 
 ically through the crowds ; while in his soul a battle
 
 242 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 raged, in which the flesh fought the spirit 5 in which 
 an entire race struggled with one lonely individual, 
 and in which six thousand years of history were 
 beating against the experience of one young soul. 
 Suddenly, Samuel became conscious of an unusual 
 commotion in the street. A great crowd had congre 
 gated at the corner of Avenue A, where the walls of 
 brick and stones ended, and an oasis of grass and 
 trees gave breathing space to these dwellers in tene 
 ments. 
 
 At the edge of the park he saw a curious looking 
 vehicle upon which were numerous posters bearing 
 verses from the Bible, written in Hebrew letters. 
 On one flaunting banner he read : " This is He of 
 whom Moses and the prophets did write," and on 
 another one : " And as Moses lifted up the serpent 
 in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be 
 lifted up." Still another bore the words : "With 
 out the shedding of blood there is no remission of 
 sins." 
 
 Two men stood in the waggon. One, a small, dark- 
 haired, nervous-looking Jew, in a sort of semi-clerical 
 dress. He was nervously biting his moustache, evi 
 dently trying hard to compose himself. The other 
 man was large and portly ; his features were firm, 
 and he looked at the crowd smilingly, as if wishing 
 to make friends with it. His eyes were large, and of 
 that peculiar dark gray, which borders on blue. They 
 were kind eyes and recalled to Samuel the beautiful
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 243 
 
 woman on shipboard the woman who now came to 
 him in his dreams, but who had passed completely 
 from his waking hours ; the woman who had made 
 his entrance into America so beautiful. This cer 
 tainly was her father Bruce, that was his name, and 
 hers was Jane Bruce. 
 
 Samuel could not come close to the waggon, for it 
 was surrounded by the angry crowd which was fast 
 growing into a mob. The missionary, still viciously 
 biting his moustache, lifted up his voice, which was 
 but faintly heard by the excited people. 
 
 " We have come here, my friends, to tell you that 
 the Messiah of whom the prophets did write, has 
 come " 
 
 " We don't want to hear about Him," the crowd 
 called out, as if it were the voice of one man. " He 
 is no Messiah, He was a traitor to His people ! " 
 
 "His name wus " the missionary began, and 
 
 again the crowd roared its displeasure in an inarticu 
 late wave of sound, through which Samuel dis 
 tinguished the words': ' ' Get out of this ! " " Come 
 off," " You' re a traitor," " How much did you get 
 for being baptized 1 ?" 
 
 Closer and closer, with menacing gestures the 
 crowd, taking Samuel with it, pressed and surged 
 around the waggon. Then the man whom he recog 
 nized as Mr. Bruce, came to the front, and, standing 
 between the missionary and the crowd, called out : 
 " I am an American, and this is a free country,
 
 244 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 and I want you to hear what this man has to 
 say." 
 
 Slowly the tumult subsided and although the mur 
 murs did not cease, it was quiet enough for Mr. Bruce 
 to proceed, and he said: "My friends, children of 
 the covenant, the chosen people of God," and even 
 the murmur abated somewhat. " Your father Abra 
 ham was led by Jehovah, out of Ur into Chaldea, 
 into a larger possession ; and the promise was made 
 to him that in his seed the ends of the earth should 
 be blessed. Now you can't all of you understand me, 
 so just let this man translate it for you." The crowd 
 suffered the missionary to echo the speech of this 
 American, for whom it evidently had more respect 
 than for him. 
 
 "Your fathers rebelled against God," the Ameri 
 can continued. ' ' They sinned, and became a prey to 
 the nations, even as you are now." The crowd 
 listened attentively. 
 
 "God sent prophets among them, who warned 
 them of their doom and promised that if they 
 would turn to Him, He would send them a deliverer. 
 " Behold a Virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, 
 and shall call His name Immanuel.' 'Unto us a 
 child is born, unto us a son is given.' 'And his 
 name shall be called : Wonderful, Counsellor, the 
 mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of 
 Peace.' ' In the fullness of time God sent into the 
 world that Messiah, His only begotten Son,' " when
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 245 
 
 the missionary translated that, the listeners howled 
 again. 
 
 "God's Son ! That's blasphemy, He was Joseph's 
 sou, Joseph's son !" 
 
 "He was crucified, dead and buried and the third 
 day He rose from the dead." Derisive laughter 
 greeted this declaration. 
 
 "My friends, that's Scripture, and you can't go 
 back on your own Scripture. It's history, and you 
 can't go back on history ; He is the Messiah, the 
 Prince of Peace, and His name is Jesus." 
 
 They allowed the missionary to interpret without 
 interruption until he came to the last word ; then 
 Yankev, who was among the listeners, coming 
 close to the waggon cried : "If He is the Everlasting 
 Father and the Prince of Peace, why do His follow 
 ers kill us and hate us ? Why do they persecute us ! 
 Tell us why, you missionary traitor, tell us why ! " 
 
 His angry words were immediately followed by the 
 cries of the newsboys :" Extra ! Schournal ! Extra! 
 A new pogrom in Eussia ! Fifteen hundred Jews 
 killed in Kishinef! Extra! Extra! Extra edi 
 tion ! Fifteen hundred Jews killed ! " 
 
 ' i Do you hear that ? ' ' Yankev turned to the mob. 
 "Do you hear that? That's what this ' Prince of 
 Peace ' is doing ! What do you want here, you 
 traitor ? Do you want to convert us, convert us to 
 become like you, a man who peddles religion for 
 money f a man who peddles the religion which has
 
 246 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 brought more misery upon us than the captivity in 
 Babylon ? Get out of here, you traitor 1 " He pulled 
 one of the banners from the waggon and, in his fury, 
 tore it into shreds with his teeth, then spat the shreds 
 into the face of the missionary. The mob followed 
 his example, while from its outskirts, potatoes and 
 carrots were hurled at the missionary. Yaukev and 
 a few other men mounted the waggon and threw 
 bundles of tracts among the people, who received 
 them with howls of derision ; then they turned upon 
 the frightened missionary. 
 
 Samuel had been at the edge of the mob ; but Mr. 
 Bruce' s voice had drawn him nearer and nearer. He 
 pressed forward, until he stood close to the waggon. 
 All he desired was to see Mr. Bruee, to be close to the 
 man who had been kind to him, and whose daughter 
 had displaced in his silent worship, the Virgin of 
 Nazareth. 
 
 The enraged mob was now beginning to throw 
 stones at the occupants of the waggon, and, when 
 Samuel saw it, the passion of his life, long beaten 
 back, began to flame again. Yankev was attacking 
 Mr. Bruce, seeing which, all Samuel's sense of loyalty 
 to the weak and sympathy with the persecuted stirred 
 within him and, mounting the waggon, he hurled 
 Yankev to the ground and faced the crowd. 
 
 The slight droop of his shoulders, induced by long 
 years of study and the hard labour of the last seven 
 months disappeared. He stood erect as he felt
 
 MOKE "M ACRES" 247 
 
 courage and power surging through him ; his delicate 
 features seemed momentarily to gain strength, and he 
 looked as Amos might have looked, when at Bethel 
 he accused the mob of its sins. His pale, dark skin 
 showed a faint colour ; for the blood had mounted to 
 his head. 
 
 11 1 am a Jew," he cried in his clear voice which 
 carried to the far corners of the mob. A cry of joy 
 was heard in the throng ; but it did not reach 
 Samuel's ears. " I protest against your treatment of 
 these peaceful men who have come here, and told us 
 of our history." 
 
 "It's a lie," some one cried. " The way they tell 
 it, it's a lie ! " 
 
 "It is not a lie ; it's the solemn truth, and even if 
 it were a lie, a Jew has no right to silence lies by 
 blows." 
 
 "He says it's not a lie!" Yankev had again 
 mounted the waggon. "He says it's not a lie, be 
 cause he is a baptized Jew. That's what he is ! " 
 and he pointed an accusing finger at Samuel. " He 
 is worse than the missionary ; he goes around try 
 ing to convert people, by telling them that the name 
 of that Messiah is Love. He told it to a little girl I 
 know. He is a traitor and a liar ; for the name of 
 that Messiah is Hate ! Hate ! Hate ! " 
 
 Again Samuel faced the mob which was beginning 
 to shower missiles at the waggon missiles which grew 
 more dangerous as they multiplied. Dr. Eosnik,
 
 248 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 who had been separated from Eeb Abraham, strug 
 gled to reach the waggon, and succeeded. Then he 
 tried to pull Samuel away ; in that, however, he did 
 not succeed. Samuel stood his ground and began to 
 speak ; but his voice was drowned by Yankev, who 
 shrieked: "Don't believe him! He lies! He is a 
 Christian, he is a Christian of the worst kind ! 
 Don't believe him ! " Then he faced Samuel and 
 said : " Tell us now, do you believe that Jesus is the 
 Messiah?" 
 
 Samuel waved his hand in an emphatic gesture, 
 and all remained silent to listen to him. 
 
 "It's not a question of what I believe ; it's a ques 
 tion of whether you are doing the right thing in 
 mobbing these innocent men. You will bring the 
 ' pogroms ' to America God forbid ! if you carry 
 on in the manner of the Eussian Hooligans." 
 
 Yankev again became the spokesman of the crowd. 
 " We don't want this religion thrust upon us here 
 by traitors. Down with the traitors of Israel, the 
 peddlers of this hypocritical religion, this religion of 
 hate, this religion of the devil ! You are a traitor, 
 you are a Christian, you believe that Jesus is the 
 Messiah !" 
 
 " I am not a Christian," Samuel called to the mob, 
 which was again flinging vegetables and stones into 
 the waggon. 
 
 Mr. Bruce now put himself shelteringly in front 
 of Samuel, who at once pushed him aside.
 
 MOEE "MACKES" 249 
 
 "I am not a Christian," he called out again ; and 
 again a cry of joy was heard not far away. 
 
 "He is my son ! Let me come to my son !" an 
 old man implored, and the angry people slowly 
 made way for him. "My own son, he is not a 
 Christian ! 
 
 "I am not a Christian," Samuel called out again. 
 
 "You lie," cried Yankev. "Didn't you say that 
 God sent His Son upon the earth I Don't you be 
 lieve that Jesus is the Messiah ? " 
 
 Again Samuel faced the crowd and this time with 
 a desperate courage. Tearing himself loose from 
 Dr. Eosnik's grasp, he said : " I am a Jew ! In 
 every fibre of my soul a Jew ! But, men of Israel, I 
 believe that Jesus is the Messiah. I believe that 
 Jesus is the Eedeemer of Israel ! " 
 
 A great, heart-rending cry rose, and fell upon his 
 ear. An old man struggled away from the waggon 
 which he had just reached. " He is Elisa ben 
 Abuja, Elisa ben Abuja ! Cursed of God. Not my 
 son ! Elisa ben Abuja ! " 
 
 Samuel tried to leap from the waggon but the air 
 grew thick from flying missiles, one of which struck 
 his temple, and he would have fallen, had not 
 Dr. Eosnik caught him, crying as he did so, 
 "Mackes gedeuloh ! Mackes gedeuloh ! Oy, oy, 
 oy!" 
 
 Mr. Bruce reached for his horses' reins and 
 drove away through the passage made by the police,
 
 250 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 which had tardily reached the scene. The waggon 
 was still menaced by the crowd, which did not see 
 the unconscious form of Samuel, whose bruised head 
 rested upon the remnants of the banner, which bore 
 the inscription : 
 
 44 Without the shedding of blood 
 There is no remission of sina."
 
 xxn 
 
 DR. ROSNIK PRESCRIBES AGAIN 
 
 " "W 7~ES, Fraulein, he is badly hurt, outside and 
 
 j| inside ; outside by Judaism and inside by 
 
 -* Christianity, it's the same disease." Jane 
 
 Bruce looked puzzled as she listened to Dr. Eosnik, 
 
 who had so skillfully dressed Samuel's wounds and 
 
 now watched over his unconscious patient with the 
 
 greatest solicitude. 
 
 It was twilight, in mind and heart ; although out 
 side the sun was beating against the palisades, those 
 silent sentinels of the boundaries of the Hudson, 
 which, majestically calm, glided into the sea. The 
 sunlight danced upon its bosom, and from the shore 
 sloped a magnificently shaded lawn, which rose in 
 splendid terraces to the hilltop, on which stood the 
 Bruce homestead, Peniel Heights. 
 
 The room in which Samuel lay was one of a suite 
 of three; large and exquisitely appointed. The 
 view from the windows commanded the river on 
 one side, and, on the other, the far-rolling stretches 
 of hills, dotted here and there by stately mansions. 
 In these the merchant princes of New York lived, 
 during that fraction of time when the climate could 
 not be surpassed in any other portion of the world. 
 
 "Your father likes the Jews, does he?" the doc- 
 251
 
 252 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 tor asked quizzically, keeping his finger on Samuel's 
 pulse. 
 
 "Yes, doctor," Jane replied, "I have seldom 
 known this house to be without a Jewish guest, and 
 I have been brought up with the idea that the Jews 
 have to be converted, before the Lord can do much 
 with the rest of humanity." 
 
 "Yes, Fraulein. That's on the principle of the 
 toughest job first ; if God succeeds in making Chris 
 tians of the Jews, He will have an easy task with the 
 rest of humanity. The biggest job He has, though, 
 is making Christians of the Christians." 
 
 Miss Bruce translated the doctor's speech to her 
 father, who stood at the other side of the patient's 
 bed. He simply pointed his finger at Samuel and 
 said: "What's the matter with him? What was 
 the matter with Paul, who was converted in a jiffy ? 
 What was the matter with the crowd at Pentecost? " 
 
 "I don't know about Paul. I hadn't the pleasure 
 of his acquaiotance," the doctor replied ; " but I 
 know this boy through and through. He was born 
 of a mother who carried suppressed in her heart all 
 the unsatisfied longings for the beautiful that could be 
 crowded there. She longed for music, and all she 
 ever heard was the synagogue leader's voice, which 
 was as raspy as a file ; even the sparrows on the roof 
 grew nervous when they heard him. She wanted 
 pictures, and all she ever saw were the faded portraits 
 of her father and mother, of which there was nothing
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES AGAIN 253 
 
 left but two big spots of oil paint. She was hungry 
 for love, and her husband, pardon me, Fraulein, her 
 husband hugged the Talmud day and night. Samuel 
 was born of that mother, who gave up her last breath 
 that he might live. Nu, nu, don't cry, Fraulein. 
 Ah ! your mother too gave her life for you nu, there 
 are thousands of Jewish women who have lived that 
 way and who have died that way, glad to give birth 
 to a son who would say the prayers for the dead over 
 them. A little more cracked ice, please." Jane 
 handed it to him. 
 
 " So, plenty of ice for his head ; if only we could 
 put ice on his heart ! Yes, Fraulein," he continued, 
 placing the ice-bag at the base of his patient's brain ; 
 " Samuel was born with all that hunger for beauty 
 and love born into Judaism, which is hopelessly 
 ugly. An orthodox Jewish synagogue, Fraulein, is as 
 ugly as a barn, and its prayers are a babel of sounds. 
 Well, he looked into a Eoman Catholic church 
 once, and, presto, change. He was converted, be 
 cause there was music that went to his soul, pictures 
 that delighted his eyes, and a priest who talked of 
 Love. Then he ran away from home and went into a 
 monastery. Fraulein, I went the same course in ex 
 actly the way that he went ; only I had ice put on my 
 brain very early, by my professors ; they taught me 
 Philosophy, and then I had ice put on my heart, by 
 what I saw of Christian people. Tra, la, la. That's 
 the reason the Lord will have such a hard time with
 
 254 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 the Jews. I don't wish to offend your father, Frau- 
 lein. I have never seen his Mnd. A Christian who 
 is called Abraham, who names his estate Peniel, 
 who takes poor Jews to his home as guests, that kind 
 I have never seen." 
 
 "To tell the truth, doctor," Jane said to him, " I 
 have never seen your kind of Jews. You do not 
 look like a Jew, neither does Mr. Gregory, and you 
 don't act like Jews. Even your names are not Jew 
 ish." 
 
 "I suppose you intend that for a compliment, 
 Fraulein, that we don't look like Jews. That's all a 
 matter of taste. A long nose in the Orient was a 
 sign of distinction ; here in America nu, Fraulein, 
 you have put an idea into my head. I have been 
 wondering how to make money here. I am going to 
 abbreviate the noses of the Jews. If I can do that 
 without disfiguring them, I shall be a millionaire in 
 a month ; in a month, Fraulein, even if I have to do 
 it at wholesale prices. As for our names, Fraulein, 
 my name was Eosenzweig before I changed it into 
 Eosnik, and Samuel's was don't be shocked, Frau 
 lein, prepare for the worst his name was Cohen. 
 That name, which has become a byword, means 
 Priest. Your Jesus was a Cohen ; the Pope is a 
 Cohen ; yet you think of Cohen as a name which ap 
 plies only to pawnbrokers and rag-pickers." 
 
 "I did not mean to offend you," Jane said apolo 
 getically. " You know what I mean."
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES AGAIN 255 
 
 " Yes, Fraulein, I know what you mean. You 
 think that when a Jew looks like his people and is 
 called by their name, he must be ashamed of himself. 
 No, no, no, don't bother to explain. I know all 
 about it, I feel the same way ; we all do. You say I 
 don't act like a Jew. Did you expect me to ask you 
 immediately, what is the least you will take for that 
 Louis XIV. clock on the mantelpiece, or for the dia 
 mond pin you have on? More ice, please, so a 
 whole lot of ice. Fraulein, I act differently from 
 other Jews, because I have ice on both brain and 
 heart. I am cooled down. The Orient has been 
 frozen out of me, and if I stay in America long 
 enough I shall be as proper and quiet as a lamp-post. ' ' 
 
 Dr. Eosnik's long and earnest conversation with 
 Jane aroused Mr. Bruce' s curiosity, for he understood 
 just enough of it to make him very anxious to hear 
 more. Now, as the doctor busied himself with 
 Samuel's comfort, Jane told her father all that had 
 been said. 
 
 " I knew as soon as I saw him on the steamer," 
 said Mr. Bruce, "that he was no common man. 
 Look at that face ! " 
 
 Together they stood, looking at Samuel. Against 
 the white pillow, his face looked as if it had been 
 chiselled in purest marble and mellowed by long 
 exposure. His features, although now sharp and 
 drawn, bore the impress of a noble soul, a soul in 
 battle ; it was the face of a spiritual captain.
 
 266 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 "Ya, ya, Fraulein;" the doctor had watched 
 them gazing at Samuel. " He looks like a prince of 
 Israel j but see his hands," and he drew them from 
 beneath the coverlid. "Look at them, so callous 
 and rough. He has had just seven months in 
 America. The other day I passed a dime museum 
 on the Bowery, and a man was yelling at the top of 
 his voice : ' She eats 'em alive, she eats 'em alive ! ' 
 America eats them alive too." 
 
 "That was good for him, Jane," said Mr. Bruce. 
 "It took the softness out of him, that's the stuff. I 
 say, Jane, that doctor has done a lot of talking, but 
 he doesn't say what I want to hear. Ask him 
 whether the boy is going to get well. That's what 
 I'd like to know." 
 
 Dr. Eosnik looked long at Samuel, and then, 
 turning to Jane, said : " Tell your father that it will 
 be months before he is well. He was in poor condi 
 tion to receive such a blow. His nerves are badly 
 shaken, and he is physically depleted. Would it not 
 be best to remove him to a hospital at once, while 
 it can be done without risk t " 
 
 "Eemove him to an hospital?" cried Mr. Bruce. 
 "Does the man take me for a priest or a Levite? 
 Does he think I'll ' pass by on the other side' ? Not 
 if it takes years instead of months ! Wasn't the boy 
 trying to protect me when he was struck ? Ask the 
 doctor if he will be unconscious very long." 
 
 "His head will clear up in about forty -eight
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES AGAIN 257 
 
 hours/' replied Dr. Eosnik. "But Ms heart never 
 will. He's suffering from Affectionitis Judaica, an 
 old disease, as old as Abraham, and there is no cure 
 for it." 
 
 "We don't want him cured of it, that's the stuff! 
 That will convert the world to Jesus !" Mr. Bruce 
 said, smiling enthusiastically at the doctor. "It's 
 the love of God, in the heart of a man like this, that's 
 going to do the business ; when a Jew gets that he 
 gets it bad." 
 
 "Tell your father that he is right, Fraulein ; and 
 tell him also that the Jews originated that idea of the 
 love of God ; but the Christians have taken out a 
 patent on it," said the doctor, when Mr. Bruce' s re 
 mark was translated to him. " Ya, ya, Fraulein a 
 good many of us have had ice put on our heads and 
 on our hearts also. A man like Samuel, who isn't 
 packed in ice, is always in hot water. The Jew is 
 either a Eationalist or a Mystic, and very often both ; 
 because he is like Samuel now. Ice on his brain but 
 not on his heart. 
 
 1 i I must go now to my patient in the hospital. Yes, 
 Fraulein, I have an hospital practice ; nu, I had my 
 troubles with the medical board, I tell you. No, 
 not an extensive practice ; just a Eussian Jewess, 
 Samuel's friend, run over by an automobile. How 
 is she ! All right, I think. She is going to be lame, 
 but she will recover." 
 
 "Wait, doctor ; let me give you a cup of tea, from
 
 258 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 a samovar, just as if you were in Eussia." Jane 
 rang the bell, and, while they waited for the tea to 
 be brought, the doctor toyed with an unlighted 
 cigarette. 
 
 " Just light that," Jane said. " I don't allow 
 papa to smoke ; but you may." 
 
 Dr. Eosnik lighted his cigarette, and, inhaling the 
 smoke, blew rings into the air while he watched Jane 
 brew the tea. 
 
 "How do you like America, Dr. Eosnik?" she 
 asked, waking him out of his dreams, into which the 
 smoke of the cigarette had wafted him. 
 
 "It's a wonder to me, Fraulein, that you didn't 
 ask me that immediately. The medical board which 
 examined me asked that question before looking at 
 my diplomas; the first man who shaved me asked 
 the same question, and the first young American 
 lady I meet is just as original. Tra, la, la." 
 
 Jane laughed heartily, saying : "But do you like 
 it?" 
 
 "I'll tell you, Fraulein. I like it, much as a man 
 likes a lion which swallows him. He has no choice 
 in the matter. I have been here, nu, I don't know 
 how long it already seems years. I begin to speak 
 English, I eat raw beefsteak, and even oysters. In 
 the old country, a man couldn't have bribed me by 
 a million dollars to swallow an oyster ; I wouldn't 
 have done it. Here I swallow a dozen, when I can 
 afford them."
 
 Dr. Eosnik sipped his tea with a relish ; puffed 
 at his cigarette, blowing the smoke-rings into the air, 
 and then tapping his signet ring against the tumbler 
 in which Jane had served his tea, said : " Ya, ya, ya, 
 Fraulein they eat them alive in this country ; they 
 crush them and grind them, and then they eat them 
 up. PoorEivka!" 
 
 "Won't you tell me about her, doctor!" Jane 
 asked, refilling his glass. 
 
 " There isn't much to tell about her, Fraulein. In 
 Eussia the Cossacks burned her breast and her hands 
 with cigarettes ; in the prison her lungs were nearly 
 eaten up by the foul air ; and here, in America, she 
 was crushed by your hurry and rush." 
 
 " Oh ! Is she that girl with the burned hands! ' ' Jane 
 interrupted him. "We saw her on the steamer. 
 She was a wonderfully interesting girl. She looked 
 so distinguished, and she walked the deck like a 
 queen." 
 
 "You mean like a king, Fraulein ; she is more 
 king than queen. Now I must be going." 
 
 " Have another glass of tea, doctor," Jane urged. 
 
 "No, thank you, enough is enough." 
 
 "Please take these roses to Misfe Eivka, and re 
 member me to her. Tell her that a friend sent them. 
 Will you tell her an American friend ! I wonder 
 how her suitor is the ardent Zionist." 
 
 " What, Fraulein ! " the doctor cried in astonish 
 ment, " you know Yankev too ! Wonderful! Well,
 
 260 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 well, you know the whole menagerie of us. Yankev 
 is still in love with Zion and with Eivka, and, from 
 present appearances, he is as far from the heavenly 
 bride Jerusalem, as he is from the earthly one. 
 Tra, la, la. Yes, Fraulein, he is pretty far from 
 Palestine. If I had my way, he'd be in jail to-night. 
 It is he who brought the t mackes ' upon our friend, 
 Mr. Gregory. Poor boy ! Thank you, Fraulein, for 
 the roses and the tea." 
 
 ' ' How did you like my tea ? " Jane asked. ' ' "Was 
 it anything like Eussian tea ? " 
 
 "Ya, Fraulein, exactly as we make it in Eussia, 
 only we put tea into it." 
 
 Jane laughed good-naturedly. "The next time 
 you come I shall put a pound of tea into your 
 cup." 
 
 "Ask him what we are to do for Mr. Gregory," 
 said Mr. Bruce. 
 
 u Nu, I'll come again to-morrow morning. In the 
 meanwhile, ice, ice all the time, on his head. I had 
 hoped that the nurse would arrive before I left. Tell 
 her that he will regain consciousness in about forty- 
 eight hours, and. he must have a stimulant every 
 hour. When he becomes conscious he'll be down, 
 way down. That wound in his head will heal well 
 and give him no trouble ; but to lose his father again 
 that will hurt. He should have something to 
 stimulate his spirit, something to cheer his troubled 
 heart. I have it ! The best medicine in the world
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES AGAIN 261 
 
 for him we'll send for his old nurse, the only mother 
 he ever knew." 
 
 " Is she in this country, doctor ? " 
 
 "Yes; she and Samuel came over on the same 
 steamer. She went to a place called Pennsylvania. 
 She told me so herself." 
 
 "But, doctor, that is the name of a State. We 
 could never reach her unless you can tell the name 
 of the city. Can you not remember any other name 
 besides Pennsylvania ? " 
 
 " Nu, let me think. I remember now there was a 
 name before Pennsylvania ; it was a place where they 
 dig coal tra, la, la," and he tapped on the rail of 
 the bed with his big signet ring ; "I have it ! Coal- 
 ville, Coalville, Pennsylvania ; and her name is 
 Suszka Schafranek. No, that isn't it either. She 
 was about to be married to Pavel Martinsky. She'll 
 come in a moment if she knows that her boy needs 
 her." 
 
 " We'll wire her at once," said Mr. Bruce. 
 
 "Now remember, Fraulein; ice, ice all the time 
 for his head, and when he wakes let him see his old 
 nurse sitting by him. Be good to him ! He is a 
 prince among men, a prince." 
 
 "Don't forget the flowers, doctor," said Jane. 
 "Tell Miss Eivka that they are from a friend and 
 that I'll come to see her. Poor, poor girl ! " 
 
 Just as Dr. Eosnik was leaving the room the 
 nurse arrived, and he repeated to her his direc-
 
 262 THE MEDIATOK 
 
 tions. Mr. Bruce and his daughter followed him 
 down-stairs. 
 
 " Doctor," said Jane, "my father says that as you 
 are coming to-morrow he will not ask for your bill 
 yet." 
 
 "Bill, bill ! no, no, not a cent, not a cent ! Is he 
 not my friend ? ' ' Nervously he felt in all his pockets 
 while he moved slowly towards the door. "But, 
 Fraulein, I have left my purse at home. Will you 
 please lend me twenty-five cents for my car fare to the 
 hospital 1 ! Thank you, Fraulein. Nu, that's a rather 
 large twenty -five cent piece. Good-bye, good-night ! 
 Remember, ice, plenty of ice for his head, and kind 
 ness, lots of it, for his heart. Good-night, Mr. 
 Bruce." 
 
 "No, I won't shake," Mr. Bruce said, emphatically; 
 "I am going mit you, verstehn? Mit you, to the 
 hospital, to see the madchen. Drat it ! Why can't 
 you talk United States, anyway? " to which unintel 
 ligible remarks Dr. Eosnik replied with his usual 
 "tra, la, la." 
 
 As the two men walked towards the station, Jane 
 could hear him rapping his cane against the iron 
 fence which separated the roadway from the park 
 surrounding Peniel Heights. She returned to Sam 
 uel's bedside, and stood for a long time looking into 
 his face, growing more and more conscious of its 
 spiritual beauty. 
 
 His lips began to move, and his speech came as
 
 DE. EOSNIK PEESCEIBES AGAIN 263 
 
 from great depths, as from far away. The broken 
 sentences which he whispered indicated what thoughts 
 were floating in his brain. 
 
 "Tateleben Tate, my father, my father! I am 
 a Jew, yes, I am a Jew ! Forgive me, father, Christ 
 forgive me ! Oh ! Mother of God, pray for me ! No, 
 no I " An expression of distress settled upon his 
 face, and his arms began to beat the air, so that the 
 nurse had difficulty in quieting him. 
 
 "No, no," he cried again. "It's a lie, it's a lie ! 
 I am a Jew ! Oh, father, take me to your heart, 
 I am a Jew ! " 
 
 Jane left the room, while his cry sank into a mur 
 mur. "Forgive me, father, dear, I am a Jew! I 
 am a Jew 1 "
 
 XXIII 
 THE STRUGGLE FOR A SOUL 
 
 F I AWICE forty-eight hours had passed, and 
 Samuel was gradually climbing out of the 
 
 -^- darkness into which he had been beaten by 
 the mob. Slowly, the reluctant blood went back to 
 its appointed channels, bringing to the pallid face a 
 look of returning life. 
 
 When Samuel grew fully conscious, his first feeling 
 was a sense of supreme pleasure in the mere physical 
 joy of lying in a soft, dainty bed, which was so great 
 a contrast to the hard sofa in the barber's home. 
 When he opened his eyes, the luxury and beauty of 
 the rooms appalled him. Dainty chairs and couches, 
 rare bric-a-brac, books and pictures were there. 
 Everything was harmonious, and so satisfying to his 
 beauty-hungry soul. His eyes wandered out through 
 the broad windows, and down the slope of the lawn 
 to the river brilliant in the sunlight, and just then 
 battling with the advancing tide and busy with the 
 traffic which struggled towards the near harbour. 
 
 Instinctively his thoughts went back to his child 
 hood, when he read fairy tales by the light of stolen 
 candle-ends. When, falling asleep over the story of 
 the banished prince, he dreamed that he, too, was a 
 
 264
 
 THE STRUGGLE FOE A SOUL 265 
 
 king's son held in banishment by a wicked witch, 
 whose power over him could be destroyed only by a 
 beautiful princess, who would come to save him. 
 
 As he lay thus, half-awake, half-dreaming, a pecul 
 iar song struck his ear sweet, simple and solemn. 
 The voices, a man's and a woman's, came to him dis 
 tinctly through the open door. They were singing : 
 
 " Jesus, Lover of my soul, 
 
 Let me to Thy bosom fly, 
 While the nearer waters roll, 
 
 While the tempest still is high ! 
 Hide me, oh ! my Saviour, hide 
 
 Till the storm of life is past ; 
 Safe into the haven, guide, 
 
 Oh ! receive my soul at last." 
 
 As the song continued, it opened the floodgate of 
 suffering which was pent up in Samuel's heart, and a 
 dry sob escaped him. 
 
 The nurse came quickly to his side, and seeing that 
 he was fully conscious, said : "I must tell them that 
 you are awake." She went towards the door, but 
 stopped ; for clear and strong, floating up the stair 
 way, came words of prayer an unusual prayer it was 
 to Samuel in which a man talked to God familiarly, 
 in his own words. To Samuel, the prayer was both 
 eloquent and uplifting ; for such a prayer he had 
 never heard before. It seemed to him, as he listened, 
 as if God were in the room, face to face with the man 
 who prayed. This was what he heard : 
 
 "Bless the stranger within our gates, heal his
 
 266 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 body, bring him back to life and strength ; heal his 
 broken spirit and comfort his heart. Make his suf 
 fering a means of sanctification to his soul, that it 
 may be purified, and that he may be fitted to lead 
 his people from the bonds of the law into the free 
 dom of the Gospel. Bless the Jews, Thine ancient 
 people, gather them once more within the walls of 
 Zion, that the Son of man may come again in His 
 glory to rule this earth, and destroy the power of 
 Satan." 
 
 Then the woman's voice, with the man's, repeated 
 the Lord's prayer, in which Samuel also joined. His 
 thoughts were thus momentarily diverted from his 
 grief ; and his sore heart was soothed by the power 
 of the prayer and its expressed solicitude for him. 
 
 Before he realized it, he felt his hand grasped by 
 Mr. Bruce, and heard his hearty voice saying : 
 "Good boy, glad you've come out of it O. K. and 
 glad you're here. You see I had to go and bring 
 you. Well, the Lord's hand is in all this. How are 
 you feeling t ' ' Samuel tried to express his gratitude. 
 
 " Never you mind, don't you thank me. This is 
 the Lord's business. Let's thank God for it. That 
 was a pretty tight box out of which He led us. 
 
 "Now, now, my boy, you mustn't think of it 
 again," he said tenderly ; for a look of deep pain 
 was on Samuel's face and his mind evidently was on 
 his father, whom he had lost after searching for him 
 so long.
 
 THE STEUGGLE FOE A SOTJL 267 
 
 "The Good Book says: 'When thy father and 
 mother forsake thee, the Lord thy God shall take 
 thee up.' My boy, there is nothing like the promises 
 of God to cling to. The Lord has a great work for 
 you to do, He has laid His hand on you and has 
 ordained you from your mother's womb. 'I will 
 never leave thee nor forsake thee' ; these are pre 
 cious words ; there is nothing like God's word, noth 
 ing like God's word, to cling to when you're in a 
 tight place. 
 
 "Here is Jane. You remember my daughter? 
 She is just as saucy as ever ; but you have learned to 
 talk United States well enough, so she can't have 
 things quite so much her own way as she had on the 
 steamer." 
 
 Jane took Samuel's outstretched hand and uttered 
 the usual commonplaces ; but her heart was deeply 
 stirred as she saw the happy light in his large dark 
 eyes, and his fine face full of a strange gladness. 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Bruce,, this is just a fairy tale, is it 
 not ! I used to dream of it all when I was a small 
 boy. I would read at night about Aladdin's lamp, 
 and follow him in his adventures. It seems to me 
 that I saw just such a palace as this, and such a 
 princess." 
 
 "And such a cross old king? " Jane asked, laugh 
 ing, as she put her arm affectionately around her 
 father. 
 
 "No, Miss Bruce, your father oh ! how kind he
 
 268 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 is, how shall I thank him? I don't know what all 
 this means. I mustn't stay to be taken care of." 
 
 "Now, young man," said Mr. Bruce, "you be 
 have yourself. You're in the hands of friends, who 
 are just doing the Lord's business, and you mustn't 
 worry nor fret ; we are going to take care of you 
 until the Lord opens the way and leads you out." 
 
 Samuel had nearly exhausted his new-found 
 strength, and was silenced, for the moment. Then 
 he said, evidently with great effort: "But, Mr. 
 Bruce, I have a friend in the hospital, she needs 
 me. I must go to work as soon as possible. And 
 there are Malke, and my poor father, and Father 
 Antonius." 
 
 "You needn't worry about that girl," Mr. Bruce 
 replied. "I have been at the hospital twice, and 
 she was well enough to argue with me about religion, 
 and to call me an old fogy. She told Jane, who was 
 with me yesterday, that she belongs to the bourgeois, 
 that she is a parasite, and other complimentary 
 things. You don't have to scratch that Eussian long 
 to find the Tartar." 
 
 "Don't be disturbed by what papa says, Mr. 
 Gregory, he exaggerates. Eivka wasn't half as bad 
 as that. She is a little extreme, but wonderfully in 
 teresting. She seems to belong to another world 
 than mine. Ever since I was a child I have been 
 taught to tell lies, not quite that," she said, seeing 
 her father's astonished look "but to hide my real
 
 THE STRUGGLE FOE A SOUL 269 
 
 thoughts behind words which were a sort of screen 
 to truth. Your Eivka is so different. She tells you 
 just what she thinks, whether it is good or bad. It's 
 a new experience, I can assure you." 
 
 "What are you talking about anyway, Jane T " 
 
 "You know, papa. For instance, I go calling, 
 and they say : ' How charming of you to come to see 
 me,' or ' How well you look ! ' when they probably 
 think just the opposite ; and I say the same things 
 to others. Eivka, as soon as she saw me said : ' I 
 don't like you, you look bourgeois.' " 
 
 Samuel could not help smiling as he said : "You 
 must forgive her, Miss Bruce. Her world was so real, 
 so hard, so terrible. To a Eussian revolutionist, all 
 the rest of the world is bourgeois. Poor girl ! Poor 
 Eivka ! What will she do ? A cripple ! " 
 
 " Don't you worry, my boy," Mr. Bruce said step 
 ping between Jane and Samuel. "We'll look after 
 her. Just you lay all your burdens on the Lord. 
 
 "Jane, you and I would better get out of here, or 
 Dr. Eosnik will scold us when he comes. It's just 
 about his time. By the way, Mr. Gregory, he rec 
 ommended a special nurse for you. She ought to 
 have been here long ago." 
 
 Just then there came a vigorous knocking at the 
 front door, followed by the ringing of the electric 
 bell, and, a few minutes later, Samuel, who had been 
 left alone with the nurse, heard heavy footsteps on the 
 stairs. After some shuffling of feet in the hall, a
 
 270 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 woman appeared in the doorway a woman whom he 
 ought to have known instantly. The face was very 
 familiar, but the dress and the hat were new and 
 strange. 
 
 The woman's florid complexion and ample propor 
 tions were accentuated by the green and red shirt 
 waist of large plaid, which she wore. Her magenta 
 skirt had failed to make connection with the waist, 
 and trailed dustily after her. A broad hat was tilted 
 forward over the dizzy height of a pompadour 
 the crown of the hat a mass of highly-coloured 
 flowers and foliage, in which yellow and blue pre 
 dominated. Over one side of this creation, a long 
 white plume (which had weathered many storms), 
 swept defiantly. Holding her bag in her hand, this 
 apparition moved cautiously over the waxed floor to 
 the bed, and then dropping to her knees, fell upon 
 Samuel's neck crying : "Schma Jsrael ! my boy ! 
 my Samuel ! " while her resounding kisses could be 
 heard in the adjoining room, where^the nurse sat and 
 smiled. 
 
 " My own boy ! What has happened to my golden 
 boy ? " Not until then could Samuel believe that the 
 apparition was really Suszka, and his greeting was no 
 less affectionate than her own. 
 
 " How are you, Suszka dear ? " he asked. 
 
 "Not good," she replied; "not good," and she 
 pointed to her heart. " My heart is crying for the 
 old Fatherland. This is good for young people like
 
 THE STEUGGLE FOE A SOUL 271 
 
 Anka. She has thirty lovers ; every man in the 
 camp wants to marry her, and runs after her, but an 
 old woman like me has nobody to talk to. Pavel is 
 in his saloon day and night, and I am all by myself. 
 Give me the old Fatherland. Oh ! my boy, I am so 
 homesick for my little cottage and my garden ! 
 But now I am happy because I can be with you." 
 
 She turned in all directions, looking wonderingly 
 at Samuel's surroundings. "But, my boy," she 
 said, "this is a king's palace! How do you come 
 here ? It's a wonderful place. There is a whole vil 
 lage pasture in front of the house and so much grass 
 going to waste. I didn't see a single cow on it." 
 
 "Yes, Suszka, this is a king's palace," Samuel 
 answered. " And the lady coming in at that door is 
 the princess. I can't tell you about it now some 
 other time." He sank back again, dizzy from the 
 joy of seeing his old nurse. 
 
 "Come," said the maid who accompanied Miss 
 Bruce, "and I'll show you your room, and you can 
 change your dress." Suszka did not understand, and 
 remained, bag in hand looking at the maid, who 
 beckoned to her. Suszka followed, walking very 
 carefully over the waxed floor, muttering under her 
 breath : "Schma Jsrael ! this is a palace, a palace ! 
 Floors of glass, and a bed of gold." When she 
 reached the door she turned abruptly and asked : 
 "But, Samuel, why haven't they a single feather 
 bed t
 
 272 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 Evidently Suszka had not come alone, for footsteps 
 were heard again. This time it was Mr. Bruce, fol 
 lowed by a priestly looking man of rotund form and 
 sanctimonious bearing. As he entered the room he 
 bestowed gracious smiles upon Jane. "Mr. Greg 
 ory," Mr. Bruce said to Samuel, who lay with closed 
 eyes, " this gentleman came with your Suszka, and in 
 sists that he must see you ; that he is an old friend." 
 
 11 Pax vobiscum," said the priest in an oily voice. 
 
 Samuel shuddered at the sound ; for it was familiar, 
 too familiar. It instantly awakened memories of the 
 cloister, of an older monk whom nobody liked, whose 
 eyes saw everything, and who reported everything. 
 The monks called him Judas, among themselves. 
 
 "Pax vobiscum," he said again, and then con 
 tinued in Latin: "Brother Gregorius, I come in 
 the name of the prior of your Order and in the name 
 of the Holy Catholic Church, to remind you that your 
 vows hold you to her, in absolute obedience. It has 
 come to our ears that you have repudiated those 
 vows, and that you have consorted with worldly 
 people and unbelievers. If you will return to the 
 bosom of our Holy Church she will be lenient, and 
 forgive ; if you do not return, you will be to her 
 anathema, like any unbeliever." 
 
 Stiff, cold and formal, like an accusing judge, he 
 stood beside Samuel's bed, unmoved by those eyes 
 that so wistfully looked at him as if to say : " Leave 
 me in peace."
 
 THE STEUGGLE FOE A SOUL 273 
 
 Summoning all his strength, Samuel said in Eng 
 lish : "I have not violated the vows which I made, 
 but the church has violated hers. I have cast her 
 aside because she encouraged pillage, theft, and the 
 death of my people. Her priests laughed at me in 
 my agony for my own flesh and blood." He fell 
 back exhausted. 
 
 " Ah ! > ' said Mr. Bruce. ' < That's it ! You are a 
 priest, an emissary of the Pope ! You obtained this 
 interview under false pretenses ! I have just one 
 thing to say to you leave the house at once ! " 
 
 "I am here," the priest said unctiously, "on a 
 sacred errand for a Brotherhood of the Holy Catholic 
 Church, the Church against which the gates of hell 
 cannot prevail. I am going to state my errand once 
 more, as I have been commanded to do. Here in the 
 presence of this Eoman Catholic witness" (Suszka 
 had reentered the room, bowing before the priest and 
 crossing herself), "I adjure you, Brother Gregorius, 
 to return to the bosom of Holy Mother Church, or else 
 be to her anathema, forever. No priest will ever hear 
 your confession, or administer to you any of her sacred 
 ordinances, in life or in death ; nor let your body 
 rest in consecrated ground." 
 
 "See here," Mr. Bruce said, " that man has more 
 religion to the square inch than the whole Dominican 
 order put together, and he doesn't need your ordi 
 nances. "We have a dozen Bibles in this house, and 
 when we have the Word of God we don't need
 
 274 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 your Latin hocus pocus. He doesn't need any priest 
 or Pope, for Jesus is our High Priest. He was both 
 priest and sacrifice, as it is written. As for any 
 sacred ordinances at death, or resting in consecrated 
 ground, thank God we don't need such services just 
 now, and, when we do, we know where we can get 
 them. You will oblige me now by leaving this man, 
 who is still dangerously ill." 
 
 "I will go," said the priest turning to Samuel, 
 "when you tell me to; but remember that you are 
 building upon sand, if you build on the faith of these 
 heretics. The Church will prevail, because it is the 
 only true Church, the Church founded by the Lord 
 and by St. Peter. These meeting houses of yours, 
 my dear sir," turning to Mr. Bruce, "are built on 
 sand, and each one of them on a different bank of 
 sand. They are separated from, jealous of, and at 
 strife with one another ; while the true Church is one 
 and indivisible, like the garment of the Lord. 
 Brother Gregorius, which do you choose for the sal 
 vation of your soul a rock or a sand-bank ? " 
 
 "Listen, Brother Aloysius," Samuel said painfully 
 and slowly; "I am not much concerned about the 
 salvation of my soul ; but this is the first place where 
 I have found revealed the Divine love. I am going 
 to rest my soul on the faith which these people repre 
 sent, and cast in my lot with them. I can say noth 
 ing more only go ! Go ! " 
 
 The gracious smile had passed from the face of the
 
 THE STEUGGLE FOE A SOUL 275 
 
 priest ; with a wrathful look at Samuel he turned 
 from the bedside and confronted Suszka, who was 
 standing behind him, jealously watching her precious 
 boy. She looked now, like her old self, whom Sam 
 uel knew and loved. She had changed her ill-fitting, 
 modern attire, for the familiar and picturesque peasant 
 garb to which she was accustomed. 
 
 "Come along, child," said Brother Aloysius, "get 
 your things and we'll go." 
 
 "My things, holy Father! I have just taken 
 them off ! And glad I am to be in my own clothes 
 again ! It was a terrible job to get those others off. 
 They belong to Anka ; she squeezed me into them, 
 and I can' t put them on without her. And why must 
 I leave my sick boy, holy Father? " 
 
 "Because this is the house of heretics, and your 
 sick boy is now anathema cursed by the Church ; 
 you will load this curse upon your own soul, and burn 
 in hell-fire if you remain with him." Suszka knelt 
 beside her boy and embraced him, weeping loudly. 
 
 " Go, Suszka ! But why did you bring him? " 
 
 " I told him about you, and that I was going to see 
 you, and he said he would come with me." 
 
 " Come, my child, daughter of the Church, come ! " 
 Suszka rose and stood, not knowing what to do. 
 
 "This woman must go with me," Father Aloysius 
 said to Mr. Bruce. "I could not leave one of my 
 children here, in peril of her soul." 
 
 Mr. Bruce and Jane watched Suszka, as she stood
 
 276 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 undecided, wincing under the sharp glance of her 
 spiritual Father. Slowly and reluctantly, crying like 
 a child, she left the room, and they could hear her 
 sobbing as she mounted the stairs : "My boy ! My 
 golden boy ! " 
 
 In a few minutes she returned, her broad hat on 
 her head, the ostrich plume drooping dejectedly as 
 she advanced. Her wonderful gown with all its ac 
 cessories hung over her arm. 
 
 ' ' I can' t put them on without Anka. I don' t know 
 how to fasten these American clothes ! " she cried. 
 
 "Come, come, my child!" The priest turned 
 away from all that display of vanity, in the shape of 
 woman's apparel. 
 
 Then Suszka heard Samuel moan, the deep, heart 
 broken moan of a man wounded to the core of his 
 being. She dropped her bag and her clothes, defi 
 antly faced her priest and said : "Pavel says : * In 
 this country everybody does as he damn please,' I 
 am going to stay with my boy and nurse him, even if 
 I do go to hell for it" 
 
 Slowly, majestically, and muttering curses in the 
 name of the only true Church, Father Aloysius 
 descended the staircase and left the house quite un 
 conscious of the fact that he had led two souls 
 through a great battle, which for them had been vic 
 torious.
 
 xxrv 
 
 THE MEDIATOR CHOSEN 
 
 THE worshipping congregation had just been 
 dismissed from the church which served as 
 the place of spiritual refreshment for the 
 residents of the little village on the Hudson, where 
 Peniel Heights was situated. Small and select groups 
 of people were entering their waiting carriages and 
 automobiles, after having lingered long enough to ex 
 change the customary greetings, and to indulge in the 
 small talk which usually finds expression when the 
 reaction comes after spiritual struggle. 
 
 Did not Jacob discuss with Esau, the women and 
 the children, and the he asses and the she asses which 
 were in his company, and that, immediately after he 
 had wrestled with the angel until daybreak ! Was 
 it not therefore perfectly proper for Mabel Cartwright 
 (the daughter of the deacon who passed the plate that 
 morning), to say to Sue Pitkin (the Sunday-school 
 superintendent's daughter): "Did you see Jane's 
 gallant knight! Isn't he a 'beaut'? I wonder 
 whether he, too, is a son of Abraham ? " 
 
 To which Sue replied : "I don't think he is ; you 
 can usually tell them by the odour of garlic, or by 
 their obtrusive piety, or some other Orientalism. 
 This man emits the true flavour of the old world, and 
 
 277
 
 278 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 a suggestion of violet- water. Gee ! but aren't his 
 eyes fetching?" 
 
 "I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts," said young 
 Pitkin, who was winding up his automobile, " that he 
 is a 'Sheeny.' " 
 
 "I am ashamed of you, Bob ; can't you talk more 
 respectfully of the chosen people ? " Mabel exclaimed, 
 with more enjoyment than displeasure in the voicing 
 of her protest. lt How can you tell anyway 1 " 
 
 "There are two infallible signs," he said, watch 
 ing the refractory machine. "Firstly, they have 
 bow-legs " 
 
 "Bob!" his sister and Mabel laughingly ex 
 claimed. 
 
 " And secondly, as far as the memory of man run 
 neth back, Jane Bruce never went to church with any 
 other man than a converted Jew, or a Jew just about 
 to be converted. She has ' led them like sheep to 
 the slaughter ' lo, these many years ! and her good 
 looks, and her father's dollars, had more to do with 
 their conversion than" once more he gave the 
 machine a vigorous turn "than well, let her 
 go ! So long, Mabel ; this afternoon at four, did you 
 say T I am going to bring my six-cylinder and give 
 her a try out, and your nerves, too. I guess you're 
 plucky enough though. So long, then," and the 
 horn tooted the way clear for Bob's machine and for 
 Mabel's electric brougham. Her father was a 
 Quaker by birth and training, and he regarded this
 
 THE MEDIATOB CHOSEN 279 
 
 as a more orthodox vehicle for church-going than a 
 heavy touring car. 
 
 Mr. Bruce never used the carriage or motor car on 
 Sunday, he alone, among all his neighbours, clinging 
 to the old fashioned notion that the Decalogue was 
 still in force. Jane was quite rebellious and vainly 
 tried to persuade him that there were no automobiles 
 in the wilderness, and that Moses did not legislate for 
 a gasoline age. 
 
 The Bruce party took the steep footpath which led 
 from the church. Down the hillside the three went, 
 one following the other ; for the path was rather nar 
 row. They reached the roadway ahead of the other 
 members of the congregation, who used the swifter 
 mode of travel, but had to circle the crest of the hill 
 before they reached the lower level. 
 
 "What did you think of the sermon 1" Mr. 
 Bruee asked Samuel, breaking the solemn silence 
 which still lingered over them. 
 
 "To tell the truth," was the reply, "I didn't go 
 beyond the text with the minister, and then I had 
 thoughts of my own. It was a wonderful text." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, a great text," Jane said, "but the 
 sermon reminded me of a man climbing to the top of 
 the Matterhorn, to deposit a snow-flake." 
 
 " Jane, you are hard on Dr. "Wright. He does the 
 best he can." 
 
 " No doubt, papa ; but he ought to choose a more 
 appropriate text for our church than : ' If any man
 
 280 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 will come after Me let him deny himself and take up 
 his cross aud follow Me.' Last Sunday he was in his 
 element when he preached on ' He leadeth me beside 
 the still waters.' He sailed us up and down the Hud 
 son in our private yachts, and when we weren't on 
 the water we walked beneath shading elms, or rode in 
 a Pullman coach, observation car, private compart 
 ment, and all but to-day he was out of his element." 
 
 Just then Bob Pitkin's automobile came limp 
 ing along. It breathed irregularly, and suddenly 
 stopped at a short rise in the hill ahead of them. 
 Leaving the car, Bob pulled off his coat, lifted various 
 portions of the machine to the ground, and began to 
 hammer and screw. When Mr. Bruce' s party 
 reached him, Jane called out : " Hello, Bob, what's 
 the matter!" 
 
 "Everything is the matter. The blamed thing is 
 all out of gear. I had no business to take it out ; but 
 mamma said I ought not to take my six-cylinder to 
 day ; she thought it too showy to go to church in. 
 Mamma has old-fashioned notions." 
 
 Mr. Bruce and Samuel had stopped with Jane, who 
 now entered into conversation with Bob's sister, while 
 Mr. Bruce introduced the men to each other. 
 
 "I have never seen the works of one of these 
 machines before," Samuel said coming closer. 
 
 "It's more complicated than a sewing machine," 
 Bob replied sarcastically ; for he knew the usual 
 trade of Mr. Bruce' s Jewish guests.
 
 THE MEDIATOE CHOSEN 281 
 
 Samuel made no reply, not catching the meaning 
 of the remark, and walked on with Mr. Bruce. Jane 
 lingered, and, turning to Bob, said : "I am ashamed 
 of you, Bob, to talk that way to Mr. Gregory." 
 
 "Mr. Gregory, Jane ! What was his name before 
 he came to Peniel Heights ? Samuel Jacobson t I 
 say, Jane, I am just catching on to why your father 
 calls his place Peniel. The preacher told us once, 
 that that was where Jacob's name was changed. Am 
 I right? By the way, do you know what's become 
 of our baptized friend, Jacob Eosenberg, alias Jacques 
 Eouseau 1 We had him arrested the other day be 
 cause he burned down his dry goods store. Being 
 sprinkled in our church, doesn't reduce the risk of 
 the fire insurance companies ; neither does that kind 
 of sprinkled risk reduce our damages. We know by 
 bitter experience that the Jews fire their stock even 
 after they are converted." 
 
 "Well, Bob, the Gentiles water their stock even 
 after they are converted. How about Mr. Cart- 
 wright, who is a deacon of our own church ? What's 
 the difference between him and Jacob Eosenberg?" 
 
 "I'll tell you the difference, Jane. A Jew is a 
 Jew, and you can't make anything else out of him ; 
 and I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts that some day 
 your father will exchange you for the soul of one of 
 those Jews, and one of the chosen children will be a 
 chosen son-in-law." 
 
 "Don't mind him, Jane, dear," Sue said sweetly
 
 282 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 to Jane, who was about to follow her father. "Bob 
 is j ust j ealous. You know he' d marry you to-morrow 
 if you'd let him, with all your Jewish impedimenta. 
 Don't mind him." 
 
 ' ' Don' t be uneasy, dear. I don' t mind him at all, ' ' 
 said Jane as she walked away, not looking back ; al 
 though she heard Bob say : " Damn the Jews, any 
 way 1" 
 
 Jane went slowly towards the great gates leading 
 into her father's estate, feeling more keenly than Bob 
 knew, the edge of his stupid remarks ; for it is with 
 words as with tools the dull edge makes the sorest 
 wound. 
 
 She was not anxious to overtake the men, who were 
 deeply engaged in conversation. She was busy with 
 her own thoughts, which, lately, had been anything 
 but comfortable ones. 
 
 Four months this Jew had been a gnest at Peniel 
 Heights ; nothing unusual, as far as the length of his 
 stay was concerned. She knew some converts who 
 stayed longer, and would have continued to stay, 
 had not the spirit, personified by her father, moved 
 them to a broader, and a more or less useful, field of 
 labour. This man, however, was different. He was 
 so simple-minded, so eager to learn, so sanely enthu 
 siastic in his love for men, that his spirit became a 
 contagion and she caught it. 
 
 Her father's narrow theological outlook had broad 
 ened somewhat since he had been brought in touch
 
 THE MEDIATOE CHOSEN 283 
 
 with Samuel's deep, spiritual experience ; but what 
 pleased Jane most, and caused her to admire the 
 young Jew beyond her own consciousness, was the 
 fact that he had stoutly refused to accede to her 
 father's desire that he should become a missionary to 
 the Jews. 
 
 To both Mr. Bruce and Jane, Samuel had opened 
 larger windows into life ; into its darkness as well as 
 into its light. The East-side was no longer a field to 
 be exploited for souls ; but a vast acreage in which 
 to plant new ideals and higher ones, and from which 
 to garner, at last, the harvest of the kingdom. Jane 
 had become acquainted with Malke, and had learned 
 to love her. Into her thoughts now there came mem 
 ories of the caresses of the child's soft little hand, 
 every nerve of it like eyes searching her inner 
 most being, wherever the little girl's fingers touched 
 her. 
 
 "Lady Love," Malke called her. "Lady Love." 
 How sweetly it sounded from the lips of the affec 
 tionate and grateful child. Could she ever forget, 
 Jane wondered when together, she and Samuel 
 stole softly into the barber's home the morning after 
 she sent the piano to Malke ? It was an old one, 
 bought for a trifle. She had often spent twice the 
 cost of it for a hat ; but never before had she felt 
 such unutterable joy as when she saw Malke' s white, 
 delicate fingers move over the keys, and heard her 
 play out her little soul in the jubilance of wandering
 
 284 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 notes. Unconscious of their presence, she sang : 
 "My Lady Love, my own dear Lady Love." 
 
 Then there was Eivka, whom they often met on 
 these expeditions together poor, lame, and still weak 
 from the effects of her long illness ; yet almost to be 
 envied, Jane thought. Eivka had a fixed and con 
 suming object in life ; while her own was barren, ex 
 cept where, here and there, it touched her father's 
 purposes, which often seemed to her ludicrous and 
 shallow. 
 
 She saw everything through Samuel's eyes, and he 
 had involuntarily created within her a loathing for 
 herself, and a strong desire to make amends for the 
 meaningless leisure of her existence. What to do, or 
 how to give her life direction, was still an undecided 
 question ; but she knew that she could no longer live 
 the kind of life which her social station demanded. 
 
 Unfortunately, Samuel had not only come between 
 Jane and her manner of life, he had unconsciously 
 stepped between her and her lover. Bob Pitkin and 
 she had been playmates and friends, as long as she 
 could remember, and that they were not engaged was 
 no fault of Bob's. All their friends expected them to 
 marry each other, and as Jane was "getting on in 
 years," being twenty-six, they thought that the mar 
 riage must soon take place. It would, in all prob 
 ability, have been a case of marriage by public opin 
 ion, had not Samuel been brought, bruised and un 
 conscious, to Peniel Heights.
 
 THE MEDIATOR CHOSEN 285 
 
 It was stupid of Bob to be jealous of this Jew ; and 
 yet Jane realized that she cared for Samuel more 
 than she ever had cared for any of her father's pro 
 tege's. She also realized that she had bestowed more 
 thought upon him than she ever had upon any other 
 man, not excepting Bob. 
 
 To-day was Samuel's last day at Peniel Heights. 
 He was to go back to the East-side, to plant there a 
 new Peniel, where rich and poor might meet, and 
 where Gentile and Jew should serve one another. 
 Some spot there must be, in that great desert of 
 the East-side, which his genius and his passion 
 might re-create into an oasis that should prove a uni 
 fying centre for Jew and Gentile, where, in short, a 
 new race might be born, which should know noth 
 ing of the ancient hate and the ancient wrongs. 
 
 Mr. Bruce had many misgivings regarding these 
 plans, and, when Jane reached the house, she heard 
 the men in the library in animated discussion. 
 Samuel was speaking earnestly. 
 
 "I am a Jew, Mr. Bruce, in my innermost soul a 
 Jew ; and never so truly one as now, since I have 
 known you. You have made me proud of my 
 heritage. I am no longer ashamed to be branded by 
 a Jewish name. I shall return to my people and en 
 deavour to bring them back to Israel's God and to 
 His " 
 
 Mr. Bruce interrupted him. " To His whatt " 
 
 "To His Christ, Mr. Bruce to Israel's Messiah,"
 
 286 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 " That's right, my boy ! That's just what I want 
 you to do, and I'll stand by you through thick and 
 thin." 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Bruce, that is where I fear you will 
 not ; for my Christ is not like the Christ of your 
 theology. I doubt, Mr. Bruce, that my preaching, 
 if I do preach, will please you ; and I doubt still 
 more that you will be satisfied by the result of my 
 labours. I can't go after the souls of my people, as 
 our Pany used to go after rabbits. I have no scheme 
 of salvation ; nor shall I elucidate to men the doc 
 trine of the Trinity. Oh ! Mr. Bruce, I can't wipe 
 out of my own soul Israel's ancient battle-cry : 
 1 Hear ! Oh, Israel ! The Lord thy God is" one 
 God ! ' And I will not, and cannot, wipe it out of 
 Israel' s consciousness. ' ' 
 
 "You are not a Unitarian, are you?" Mr. Bruce 
 asked ; deep displeasure in his voice. 
 
 "I don't know what I am, Mr. Bruce. I only 
 know that I love this Christ, born of my race, and 
 that I cannot think of my life without Him. I shall 
 preach Christ. I shall live Him if I can and 
 as I can, and take upon myself the consequences. I 
 am going to be a brother to my people and make of 
 them, by God's help, brothers to the human race. 
 Oh ! Mr. Bruce ! I am a Jew but I am more than 
 that I am a human being ! Christ has made me 
 that!" 
 
 "Now don't begin with your Brotherhood doc-
 
 THE MEDIATOR CHOSEN 287 
 
 trine!" said Mr. Bruce. "That won't save men! 
 It's the blood of Christ that saves ! " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Bruce. It's the blood of Christ, shed 
 anew each day. Your blood, and my blood, which is 
 His. I believe that, and you believe that. There 
 are just words between us ; but we can't understand 
 each other. I think your daughter understands me 
 better than you do. Perhaps she can interpret us to 
 each other.'' 
 
 " Jane is a heretic ! " Mr. Bruce said disgustedly ; 
 "and I am afraid she has corrupted you by her 
 Higher Criticism and her Browning." 
 
 "Oh! Mr. Bruce! You are very much like my 
 dear father. Between him and me there are just 
 words ; yet he has rolled a world between us. Don't 
 let us quarrel, Mr. Bruce. Here in your home I have 
 found Christianity, without the barriers of Church 
 and priest ; don't put the barrier of words between 
 me and my faith ! I do long, as never before, to 
 preach not by words only, nor by symbols I am 
 weary of both. I want to preach by my life, by your 
 life, by your daughter's life. If you cannot help me 
 in this, as you thought you could, I shall do it at the 
 presser's bench ; anywhere ; but somewhere and 
 somehow." 
 
 11 "No, my boy, we shan't quarrel. You shall go 
 with my blessing, if only you go in Christ's name. 
 And you shall have my help and Jane's help." 
 
 Jane could listen in silence no longer. She opened
 
 288 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 the door and threw herself into her father's arms, 
 crying : " Oh ! You dear old papa ; you make me 
 so happy ! " 
 
 It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and they sat 
 silently upon the broad piazza, watching the spark 
 ling river in its battle with the advancing tide, which 
 vainly tried to keep it from the sea and each was 
 busy with his own deep thoughts. 
 
 It was a great Sabbath ; quiet and happy. All the 
 ancient prophecies seemed to ripen into fulfillment, 
 and Samuel's childhood's dreams almost became re 
 alities. He drew his Browning from his pocket, and 
 read aloud from " Saul." How truly the David 
 spirit spoke out of this, his kinsman. How mag 
 nificently Samuel's soul responded to that great line 
 which closes this most wonderful poem: "See the 
 Christ stand ! " These three could see the Christ ; 
 and, inwardly, they all thanked God that they could. 
 
 Then Samuel read from "Pippa Passes" 
 
 " ' each only as God wills can work. 
 
 God's puppets, best and worst, are we. ' 
 
 "What a great Calvinist Browning was, Miss 
 Bruce," Samuel said, dropping the book and watch 
 ing the tide still beating against the river ; while the 
 boats slowly floated with the stream. " That is true, 
 so true," he continued. "The river will find the 
 ocean must find the ocean we all can but do His 
 will
 
 THE MEDIATOE CHOSEN 289 
 
 11 ' each only as God wills can work. 
 
 God's puppets, best and worst, are we.' " 
 
 "I believe all that," Jane Bruce said; her face 
 beaming from pleasure, and her pride in him. "I 
 believe all that, except that you are l God's puppet.' 
 You are the 'captain of your soul,' and of other 
 souls." 
 
 "Do you believe that, Miss Bruce? Do you be 
 lieve that I shall lead men into the kingdom from 
 earth to heaven ? " 
 
 " I do believe in you Mr. Gregory you will 'Be 
 to men a star ' " 
 
 "No, no!" he cried. "Don't say that, Miss 
 Bruce ! Not a star ! It's dangerous that is how 
 Paracelsus fell that is how angels fall from heaven. 
 Paul is safer. Let me but be ' less than the least 
 among all the saints ' ! I have no desire to shine ; but 
 I do long to serve. How I shall accomplish it I do not 
 know ; but, as God wills as God wills," he repeated. 
 
 " I trust you to do the will of God," Jane said em 
 phatically; her beautiful eyes clouded by tears. 
 " But to know the will of God ! " 
 
 "Ah, me! Miss Bruce. I wish I might be your 
 Providence as you and your father have been mine ; 
 but you do not need me. I trust you to do God's will 
 as He wills it. Now I must go." 
 
 The carriage, with his scanty luggage, was waiting 
 for him at the foot of the steps. He looked back 
 upon the house his soul's birthplace; then at the
 
 290 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 palisades those mighty cathedral walls, which helped 
 him to voice his new-won faith and last, the river 
 which, in imagination, had carried him to the great 
 sea of humanity on the East-side. Then he looked 
 long at his friends, and pressed Mr. Bruce' s hand, 
 vainly trying to thank him. 
 
 "No, don't you thank me, my boy!" his genial 
 host repeated over and over again. ' ' Thank God, 
 and I thank Him for you. Go and preach l The un 
 searchable riches ' of God in Christ Jesus ; go and 
 break down ' the middle wall of prejudice between 
 Jew and Gentile. We'll be with you. Only preach 
 Christ. Eemember that He alone can save ! " 
 
 Then Samuel turned to Jane. As he looked into 
 her eyes, full of the sunlight, and of the deeper, richer 
 light within and as he saw her face, reflecting the 
 nobility of her soul he felt again, as he had felt on 
 the steamer, that this was his Madonna saintly, and 
 pure and true ! 
 
 The warm pressure of her hand-clasp, as she re 
 turned his, caused the blood to surge through his 
 heart, like a fire pure as any which ever glowed on 
 sacred altar ; nevertheless, it burned and burned the 
 deeper, because it was Divine. 
 
 "Are there not Miss Bruce two points in the 
 adventure of the diver? One when, a beggar, he 
 prepares to plunge " 
 
 There Samuel hesitated, and Jane continued : " One 
 when a prince he rises with his pearl ^ "
 
 THE MEDIATOR CHOSEN 291 
 
 Then, in a voice ringing from courage and hope, 
 Samuel added : " Festus, I plunge ! " 
 
 ""We wait you when you rise ! " responded Jane ; 
 and Samuel bent reverently over her outstretched 
 hand, and kissed it
 
 XXV 
 JANE 
 
 ME. BEUCE did not like Samuel's plan for 
 the redemption of the people of the East- 
 side. He called it " bread and butter 
 salvation " ; and long and heated were the arguments 
 between the two men, concerning the respective 
 merits of their widely divergent methods. Mr. Bruce 
 believed that salvation for the Jews meant, primarily, 
 the acceptance of Jesus Christ as a Saviour from sin ; 
 while the younger man contended that the Jews must 
 first have the chance to know a Christ worth accept 
 ing, and that Christian people must so exemplify 
 Christ in their lives that the Jews would think Him 
 worthy of imitation. 
 
 Single-handed, Samuel plunged into the mazes of 
 the Ghetto, where poverty and vice were thickest. 
 Patiently he toiled, earning his daily bread, first at 
 the presser's bench, later by his pen, with which he 
 was very successful. Gradually, he gathered about 
 him a group of followers and helpers, who under 
 stood his motives and shared his faith in the redeem 
 ing power of the teachings of Jesus. It is doubtful 
 that Samuel could have successfully passed an exam 
 ination in Protestant theology ; but it is certain that 
 his love for the Christ, and his passion to redeem men 
 
 292
 
 JANE 293 
 
 from sin and its consequences, recommended him to 
 those Christians who had caught the social passion of 
 the disciples of Jesus. 
 
 To Samuel, Christ was the Messiah, his own Ee- 
 deemer. Through Christ, his life had received mean 
 ing, his purposes direction ; and the words of Jesus 
 became to him the law of social conduct. Through 
 his study of Tolstoy's writings, his ideas became more 
 firmly established, and, in sharing them with Jane 
 Bruce, the two had come into complete harmony 
 upon this subject, to the great chagrin of Mr. Bruce. 
 His orthodoxy, however, never interfered with his 
 supporting the East-side work, especially as more and 
 more he recognized the breadth of Samuel's plans and 
 the largeness of his vision. 
 
 Just as the work began to show tangible results, 
 Mr. Bruce died suddenly, on the way to his office. 
 According to his will, the burden of administering 
 his large estate fell upon his daughter. As Mr. Bruce 
 left the bulk of his great wealth for " the salvation of 
 the Jews," Jane decided to broaden the scope of the 
 down-town work, in which Samuel was so successful, 
 and to augment it by making Peniel Heights part of 
 it in reality, sharing her home with those unfortu 
 nates whose lives Samuel touched, and who were in 
 need of fresh air, good food, and sympathizing 
 friends. 
 
 A few weeks after Mr. Bruce' s death, when Jane 
 was still crushed by the heaviness of her grief,
 
 294 THE MEDIATOB 
 
 visitors were announced. They were her pastor, Mr. 
 Cartwright the senior deacon of Peniel church, and 
 one or two other members of it, intimate friends of 
 her father, who were not only concerned in Jane's 
 welfare, but were anxious to be helpful in the proper 
 disposal of her trust. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Dr. Wright," Jane said, greet 
 ing her pastor. 1 1 How do you do, Mr. Cartwright ? ' ' 
 Then, seeing Bob Pitkin, "and you too, Bob?" A 
 smile passed over her pale face, as she asked : "Is 
 Saul also among the prophets? I am glad you have 
 come. I do need my friends. It is good to see you 
 all. "Won't you sit down ? " 
 
 When they were seated, a solemn silence fell. It 
 was broken by Dr. Wright, who, by virtue of his 
 office, became the spokesman of the party. 
 
 "You know, Jane," he said very tenderly, "that 
 we are all interested in your plans for properly ex 
 ecuting your father's will, and we just wondered if we 
 could advise you and be of some help 1 to you. You 
 know, I was very close to your father." 
 
 "Indeed, Dr. Wright," Jane replied, "I should be 
 glad to listen to advice, if I had not already made my 
 plans ; but I shall be very grateful for any help which 
 my friends will give me." 
 
 "We have heard about your plans, Jane," Bob in 
 terposed, "and it is about those very plans that we 
 want to talk to you. We are afraid that you are being 
 imposed upon."
 
 JANE 295 
 
 " Thank you very much, Bob, for coming to me at 
 this time of need. I didn't know that you were 
 especially interested in missionary work. How do 
 you think I am being imposed upon t " 
 
 "You are being imposed upon by that socialistic 
 anarchist, on whom you are throwing your father's 
 money away, Jane." 
 
 Miss Bruce rose quickly, her pale cheeks glowing. 
 "Mr. Pitkin," she said sharply, "whom do you 
 mean f What do you mean t " 
 
 Mr. Cartwright laid his hand gently on Jane's arm, 
 saying: "See here, Jane, don't get excited. Let's 
 talk this matter over calmly. Your father left his 
 money for the salvation of the Jews ; from what we 
 have heard, you are proposing to endow a sort of set 
 tlement on the East-side with that converted Jew, who 
 was ill here so long, in charge. Do you expect to 
 save the Jews by kindergartens and soup-kitchens and 
 hospitals, and the other things you are proposing to 
 put in ! Moreover, Jane, that young man has flown 
 the track completely ; he is a socialist. I have even 
 heard that he is an anarchist." 
 
 " Mr. Cartwright," Jane replied, making a visible 
 effort to be calm, "I am in no mood for argument ; 
 but let me assure you that the man to whom I am en 
 trusting so much of my father's fortune is neither 
 a socialist nor an anarchist, but a Christian a 
 true follower of Jesus. I can wish for myself no 
 greater blessing than to have such faith as he has,
 
 296 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 and to have the power to do the work that he is 
 doing." 
 
 "How many souls has he saved, Jane ? " her pastor 
 asked. 
 
 " My dear Dr. "Wright, I don't know, and I don't 
 think I care. I can tell you though how many chil 
 dren he has rescued from the enslavement of labour, 
 how many boys he has saved from certain business 
 interests which made an assault upon their appetites ; 
 I can tell you how many druggists he has had 
 arrested for selling cocaine to those boys, and how 
 many saloon-keepers he has had fined for selling 
 them liquor. I can tell you exactly, Dr. Wright, 
 how many girls he has saved from shame and dis 
 grace; but how many souls he has saved will be 
 known only when the book that is 'sealed with seven 
 seals' is opened. Their names are written in that 
 book." 
 
 " That's not religion, Jane, that's not religion. 
 That's philanthropy ! " exclaimed Mr. Cartwright. 
 "Your father left his money for the salvation of the 
 Jews, to save their souls, to make them believe in 
 Jesus ; that's what your father's money was left for." 
 
 "Mr. Cartwright," Jane replied, "the Jews will 
 never believe in Jesus until we can convince them 
 that He is the Messiah the deliverer. The reason 
 that the work of the ' Society for the Conversion of 
 the Jews ' has been at all effective, is, that my father, 
 who founded it, was a sincere friend of the Jews
 
 JANE 297 
 
 that he became their deliverer in Jesus' name. 
 This home, as you know, was rarely without a 
 Jewish guest, and, through my father's love and kind 
 ness, many Jews learned to believe in the love of the 
 Son of God. 
 
 " Gentlemen," Jane continued, "I am willing to 
 make you a committee to dispose of my father's for 
 tune, if you will open your homes to poor, neglected 
 and wretched Jews, as my father did, and as I in 
 tend to. How many Jewish guests should you like 
 for next Sunday, Mr. Cartwright t Dr. Wright, how 
 many Jewish children do we want in Peniel Sunday- 
 school f Bob, how many but I forget ; you are a 
 drone in the hive. I mustn't ask anything of you." 
 
 "Jane," Bob spoke again. "That isn't common 
 sense. You've gone daft on this whole subject You 
 are an extremist, just like that crazy socialist" 
 
 " Am I an extremist, Dr. Wright 1 " Jane turned 
 inquiring eyes upon her pastor. "Have you not 
 taught me these same things ? How many times have 
 I heard you say that true Christianity is to accept all 
 men as brothers, and to treat them as such ; and I be 
 lieve it, every word of it. Christianity without 
 brotherhood is not true Christianity. Take that 
 away from it, and you take out its core ; yet now, 
 Dr. Wright, when I am ready to act upon your 
 preaching, you come to save me from my folly. I 
 want to build, in the heart of Jewish misery, a me 
 morial to my father, a settlement, if you choose to
 
 298 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 call it so. That, I shall build with my own money. 
 I want to fill the place just as full of human love as 
 I can fill it to interpret to the Jews the Divine love. 
 When they pass that building, and are touched by its 
 ministry, they will know that Christianity is not 
 an idle dogma, not something to hate, or to be hated 
 by." 
 
 1 1 Hm ! hm ! ' ' Dr. Wright stammered : "I must 
 confess, Jane, your project sounds well ; yet it stag 
 gers me. You know we have not been idle at Peniel ; 
 we have always supported the Jewish Mission, and 
 we give liberally to home missions." 
 
 " Do you know, Dr. Wright, how much your mis 
 sionary accomplishes on the East-side? Do you 
 realize that he is like a ' needle in a hay stack ' T 
 And a pretty dull, stupid needle, I often think. 
 What does the East-side care for Mr. Eazinsky's 
 sermons on the ( Trinity,' or on 'the Fulfillment of 
 Prophecy ' T Nothing ! " 
 
 "And yet, daughter, it is by the 'foolishness of 
 preaching' that the people are to be converted." 
 
 "That is true, Dr. Wright ; by 'the foolishness of 
 preaching,' but not by foolish preaching. I think I 
 heard you say that once, and that's what Mr. Eazin 
 sky's preaching is. It insults the intellect of those 
 who hear it it is meaningless to most of them, and, 
 at best, but few listen ; for he is distrusted and hated 
 by the Jews. We'll never convert people to Chris 
 tianity unless they see it at work. These people come
 
 JANE 299 
 
 from countries where the cross has been not only a 
 stumbling-block, but a club to knock them down. 
 The name of Jesus has been to them what the name 
 of the l Bogeyman ' is to a frightened child. I want 
 to try a new way, and see if it works. If it doesn't 
 work, then the Home Missionary Society may have 
 every cent of my father's money. Does that satisfy 
 you, gentlemen t" 
 
 "Ye-es, ye-es," Mr. Cartwright replied, half 
 heartedly. "Of course, you have a right to do ex 
 actly as you please with your father's money, Jane ; 
 but e we think e that there is a an uncom 
 mon lot of Jews coming out here to see you." 
 
 " Is that the trouble, Mr. Cartwright? are you con 
 cerned about the society I am in ? Are you afraid 
 that I shall be contaminated by these Jews ? You 
 needn't worry ; I am proof against Jewish microbes. 
 My father made me immune." 
 
 Just then, Bob burst out, in his old familiar way : 
 
 " Jane, this business is going too far you'll have 
 to stop it. You'll run us out of Peniel. Honest, 
 Jane, you can't take a train from the city now, with 
 out its being full of Jews ; men, women and children, 
 dozens of them and all getting off at Peniel Station. 
 We had grown reconciled to seeing your father bring 
 out a specimen every few weeks ; but you' re bringing 
 all the twelve tribes ! " 
 
 " Only eleven, Bob. Don't you know that one of 
 the twelve tribes was lost t "
 
 300 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 " Well, Jane, I wish the other eleven had been lost 
 too. Anyway, why do you want to saddle them on 
 to us? They don't need much encouragement to 
 come. They'll get here fast enough without your as 
 sistance. They are in Harlem, ready to cross the 
 bridge, and they have invaded Brooklyn, so that the 
 churches are being turned into synagogues. Peniel 
 is the only edge of this town that is Jew free, and 
 here you come with your crazy, new fangled plans for 
 converting the Jews ; and they just swarm out here." 
 
 "I regret, gentlemen," Jane said, ignoring Bob's 
 tirade, "that my plans are distasteful to you ; yet I 
 do not think that I can change them. I wish Peniel 
 Heights to remain what it has always been a conse 
 crated place consecrated to human need, to human 
 suffering, and free, perfectly free from hate of either 
 race or class. Yet I do not wish to be stubborn in 
 this matter ; and as you all dislike the Jews, I'll give 
 
 up my plan of bringing Jews here as my guests " 
 
 . " Good for you, Jane ! " Bob interrupted. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry, Bob, I have not finished. 
 I'll give up my plan of bringing Jews to Peniel 
 Heights. I'll bring Italians. They are picturesque, 
 Dr. Wright, and you do so love Italy. How about 
 the Italians'? I'll trade the Jews for the Italians. I 
 have no race prejudice. They are all the same to me 
 what do you say, Bob 1 " 
 
 "No, Jane, no dagos for heaven's sake, no 
 dagos 1"
 
 JANE 301 
 
 Mr. Cartwright shook his head vigorously and 
 negatively ; Dr. Wright said nothing. 
 
 "Well, let's drop the 'dagos,' as you call them, 
 Bob. I am not especially fond of them. How about 
 the Polanders ? Polanders, Mr. Cartwright, are 
 among the most industrious of our citizens. They do 
 occasionally get drunk ; but then, so do some of the 
 residents of our Peniel. How about the Polanders, 
 Mr. Cartwright! No I Then, as you are not in a 
 trading mood, I fear that I shall have to carry out 
 my original plan. 
 
 "I am sorry, Dr. Wright, that you came too late. 
 You should have come two generations ago. You 
 know, my father inherited his love for the Jews from 
 his father. It is a passion of the Bruce family and, 
 as Dr. Bosnik would say : l It is incurable.' " 
 
 Bob lingered after the others had gone. 
 
 " Why don't you go, Bob 1 " 
 
 " Because I don't want to." 
 
 " That's a pretty good reason. It's supposed to be 
 a woman's reason, isn't it? " 
 
 "And a man's." 
 
 "A man's reason, Bob? " Jane asked, with her 
 fine sarcasm. 
 
 "Well, Jane, I did think you'd listen to me! 
 This plan of yours is not only foolish, it's crazy ! I'll 
 bet you dollars to doughnuts, that it will break you 
 up, if it doesn't break you down." 
 
 "Thank you very much for your solicitude, Bob;
 
 302 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 but I am coming on finely. I miss dear papa dread 
 fully ; although I am growing more self-reliant than I 
 ever thought I could be. You know I always leaned 
 on papa and thought that I couldn't do anything 
 alone ; but I seem to have the strength of a giant." 
 
 "You'll need it, Jane, you'll need it." 
 
 "I suppose I shall, Bob ; with all my old friends 
 against me. I shall ' fight it out on this line ' though, 
 if it does ' break me.up, or break me down.' " 
 
 "You'll call on me, won't you, Jane, when you 
 need help t Of course, you know I'll not help you in 
 this crazy scheme but anything else, Jane anything 
 else." 
 
 " I shall never ask you to come to me, Bob." 
 
 "Do you mean to say, Jane, that you don't want 
 me to come? You can't be so cruel." 
 
 1 ' Don' t do|the pathetic, Bob. It isn' t becoming. It 
 wouldn't break your heart if you never saw me again. 
 You'll be welcome here, of course, whenever you 
 choose to come. You know I have no race preju 
 dice." 
 
 "Jane, I want to tell you here and now, for the 
 last time, that I shan't step through your gate if you 
 persist in your foolish purpose. I mustn't! I can't! 
 I owe something to my self-respect ! " 
 
 "How your self-respect must suffer when you goto 
 the Cafe" Alhainbra, Bob. But you'll find some of 
 the same people here some of the same women who 
 have been bought and sold at Moskowsky's only,
 
 JANE 303 
 
 they'll not be for sale here, Bob, not here ! Your 
 self-respect will be in no danger here ! 
 
 "Don't think, Bob, that I am urging you to come. 
 I don't want you. If things go well with me, I shan't 
 need you, and, if things go wrong with me, I know 
 where to get comfort." 
 
 "Yes, that confounded Hebrew " 
 
 " Yes, Bob ; that same Hebrew who comforts your 
 mother, when she needs comfort and help ; that same 
 Hebrew who inspires all those who are trying to bring 
 back the joy of life to the joyless city ; that same 
 Hebrew whose words were the first sacred words you 
 uttered when a child. Some day, when you crawl 
 back into manhood again, as I hope some day you 
 will you'll be on your knees, asking mercy and par 
 don in the name of that same Hebrew." 
 
 "You are crazy, Jane, crazy as a loon ! " 
 
 "Thank you, Bob. Thank you for the compli 
 ment. I shan't dispute you. I shan't bear you any 
 . malice ; only leave me, leave me, and don't come 
 back. 
 
 "No, no, Bob! You mustn't !" and she pushed 
 aside the hand that would have grasped hers. " No, 
 not another word; I can't stand anything more 
 good-bye." 
 
 She turned, and left the room ; while Bob, under 
 his breath, said : " Darn that troublesome Hebrew ! " 
 
 Alone, on the veranda, Jane sat through the dusk
 
 304 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 and the dark ; until from the park and the shore of 
 the river her wards came to say good-night. 
 
 Malke was among them, walking unaided; al 
 though still walking in the shadow. A green shade 
 protected her sensitive eyes, which had so improved, 
 that she could see her Lady Love's face, and that 
 made the child happy. 
 
 "Lady Love," Malke called, when she was ready 
 for bed, "come, kiss me good-night, and help me 
 say my prayers." 
 
 Jane went ; but although she was sad and depressed, 
 and sorely needed comfort, she could not pray for 
 the Christ's face, and the face of him for whom her 
 heart yearned were one.
 
 XXVI 
 THE ANARCHIST NUN 
 
 , oy, oy ! " Eeb Abraham lamented, as he 
 threw himself upon the couch, which had 
 served as his son's bed, a little more than 
 two years before. 
 
 "Mine enemies should reach such an old age as I 
 have reached ! " he continued. " Who wants an old 
 man in America ? Who cares for anything I write in 
 the holy tongue? Who wants it written on the door 
 posts of his house, that he is a Jew, as God, blessed 
 be His holy name, has commanded ! Nobody ! Oy, 
 oy, oy !" The broken springs of the sofa creaked 
 and groaned beneath him, as he tried to find that part 
 of it which had reluctantly adjusted itself to his 
 body ; then he groaned again. 
 
 11 And such a son ! Ach ! Ach ! Such a son ! " 
 
 The barber, in an adjoining room, was still awake ; 
 although he, too, had sought the place of least resist 
 ance on his bed, and found it. 
 
 "No, Eeb Abraham," he called out, into the thick 
 of the old man's groaning ; " no, Eeb Abraham, no 
 body cares for your words, written in the holy tongue ; 
 because they are dry, and dull, and have no life in 
 them. They are not poetry " 
 
 "And who cares for your poetry!" the old man 
 305
 
 306 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 interrupted, tartly. "I get something out of my 
 writing in the holy tongue, and I am doing an act 
 well-pleasing to God but you and your poetry no 
 one cares for poetry in America, and to God it is an 
 abomination. You are an abomination also. You 
 live like a heathen, your children don't know the 
 Sabbath from any other day, and you eat with un- 
 washen hands." 
 
 "Eeb Abraham," the barber asked, with a sleepy 
 chuckle, "what does the Talmud say ? Shall a man 
 wash his hands before, or after, eating a ham sand 
 wich?" 
 
 "Don't blaspheme ! " cried Eeb Abraham, dislodg 
 ing himself from the depression in the sofa. "You'll 
 die of apoplexy some day ; the ham sandwich will 
 stick in your throat, and choke you that's what the 
 Talmud says." 
 
 "Eeb Abraham," the barber replied, turning in 
 his bed, while the springs protested loudly ; "if all 
 the New York Jews who eat ham sandwiches would 
 die of apoplexy, there wouldn't be enough Jews left 
 to fill the Eivington Street synagogue. 
 
 "It's not the trepha meat that's going to choke 
 them, it's the trepha money they make. Eeb Abra 
 ham, if you only knew ! You don't know you 
 don't know ! Your son knows. He is a golden son, 
 Eeb Abraham, a golden son ! He knows what we 
 suffer from the Eosenfelts, and the Eosenbaums and 
 the Eosenheims, and the rest of them, that drink our
 
 THE ANAECHIST NUN 307 
 
 blood, and eat our flesh, and grow fat, so fat they 
 can't breathe. They are going to be struck by 
 apoplexy, but not from eating pork ! " 
 
 "Don't mention my son!" Eeb Abraham cried. 
 " Such a son ! Such a son ! " 
 
 "Such a son! Such a son!" the barber echoed 
 excitedly. "A prince, a captain he is ! " Then the 
 barber sang a synagogue tune, to which he fitted his 
 own words, as they passed through his half-asleep 
 brain. 
 
 " Arise, my beloved, and sing a song, 
 Of Jndah's hurt, of Judah's wrong, 
 Of Judah's poor, of Jndah's slain, 
 Of Jndah's rich, with the mark of Cain. 
 Arise, my beloved, and sing a song " 
 
 There, the fire of genius, having consumed itself, the 
 poet just hummed the Sabbath tune, until his loud 
 snoring changed the sweet melody into hideous dis 
 cord. 
 
 Eeb Abraham still groaned, for sleep came reluc 
 tantly to him. He could not forget his son. The 
 world around him would not allow him to forget. 
 His son's name was upon the lips of the poorest of 
 the Ghetto dwellers. A Jewish apostate had become 
 their champion. A baptized Jew, who had not for 
 saken his people who had not ceased to love them 
 who was saving their daughters from shame, and who 
 was helping to redeem the Ghetto from its ills, and 
 from its ill -repute this was his son. All day long,
 
 308 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 the old man had heard about this son. He hoped 
 now, that he had heard the last of it all ; for the bar 
 ber was sound asleep. Malke, too, strangely enough, 
 was silent ; but hardly had her father's snoring be 
 gun than she sat up in her bed, and asked : 
 
 11 Uncle Abraham, why do men snore? " 
 
 "Child," the old man cried, complainingly, "how 
 shall I know ? I suppose, because God has made men 
 so. Now lie down and go to sleep. You always ask 
 questions just like my little Samuel oy, oy ! Just 
 like my golden boy ! " The springs of the old couch 
 shook, as he tossed miserably about. 
 
 "Oy! Oy ! Mine enemies should reach such an 
 old age as I have reached ! My enemies, my worst 
 enemies ! No home no son but, as God wills ! ' ' 
 And he lay still, forcibly composing himself to sleep. 
 
 11 Uncle Abraham ! " Malke was calling again. 
 
 "Go to sleep, I say ! " 
 
 "Uncle Abraham, I don't believe it is God's will 
 that you should have such an old age. You could 
 live with Samuel, and get young again, if you would. 
 He makes everybody happy. Everybody talks about 
 him and the good he does." 
 
 "Malke," the old man cried angrily ; "shall Hive 
 in the house of a Goy ? A house which is also a 
 church, where they baptize people? Never will I 
 step through the door of that house ! Oy, oy, oy ! 
 That I should see the day when my son is a mis 
 sionary ! "
 
 THE ANAKCHIST NUN 309 
 
 Again the old man tried to forget his pain in sleep ; 
 but again Malke called through the dark : 
 
 "Uncle Abraham, why do you hate the Chris 
 tians!" 
 
 11 Child, you will kill me to-night with your ques 
 tions ! Why do I hate them ? Because they hate 
 me. I have got nothing but 'mackes' from the 
 Christians. They have taken my son away from me ! 
 They have burned down my house, and now I must live 
 in exile ! Go to sleep, Malke, and don' t torment me ! ' ' 
 
 "Uncle Abraham?" Malke called again," do 
 you know who gave me my piano? " 
 
 " What do I care for your piano I Let me sleep ! " 
 
 " Uncle Abraham, it was the Lady Love who gave 
 it to me ; and she built the hospital, and the house for 
 Samuel." 
 
 "Be still I say ! You are making me crazy ! Let 
 me sleep ! " 
 
 " Uncle Abraham, you know my eyes are get 
 ting better and that the Lady Love says some day I 
 can see as well as she does. You know she is paying 
 the great doctor for curing my eyes ; and Uncle 
 Abraham, the Lady Love is a Christian, and you love 
 her ; you told me so. Why can't you love Samuel ? " 
 
 "Malke!" Eeb Abraham almost shrieked, "for 
 Heaven's sake, be still ! What have I done, that 
 God blessed be His holy name ! should so afflict 
 me?" 
 
 Silence fell ; but it lasted only a few moments ; for
 
 310 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 the child, undismayed by the old man's anger, called 
 again : 
 
 " Uncle Abraham ! " 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 "Uncle Abraham!" The child sat upright in 
 bed. < ' Why did the Jews kill the Christians' God? ' ' 
 
 The question, so like Samuel's, in the far away 
 past, aroused all Eeb Abraham's brooding wrath. 
 He rose hastily, and went to the child's bed, crying : 
 ' ' If you don' t stop, Malke, I' 11 punish you. I' 11 whip 
 you ! Oy, oy, oy 1 " 
 
 Then he stood still in the dark ; for the child was 
 sobbing. A door opened, and Eivka, lamp in hand, 
 entered the room. She looked out of place in the 
 poor little kitchen. Her gown, of some gauzy fabric, 
 fell in shimmering waves about her, and her bare 
 arms and shoulders shone white, in the lamplight. 
 
 "Can't you be patient with the child, Eeb Abra 
 ham? Answer her, if you can. You can't? That's 
 it, none of us can answer. If I were to ask the Czar 
 the same questions he couldn't answer them either. 
 He is crucifying God's son every day. 
 
 "You don't understand, Eeb Abraham. You're a 
 blind child, like Malke. Some day the Czar's chil 
 dren and his children's children are going to ask the 
 same questions 'Why did you kill those Eevolu- 
 tionists, those sons of God? Why did you hate 
 them ? ' Eeb Abraham, they are going to ask those 
 same questions, in heaven and hell, if there are such
 
 THE ANAECHIST NUN 311 
 
 places. Now you go back to bed. If you weren't a 
 child, I'd tell you that you are a fool for behaving to 
 wards your son as you do, because he is a Christian. 
 He is a better Jew than I am, Eeb Abraham. I 
 never enter a synagogue and I eat pork ; I don't be 
 lieve in anything. Not in God, nor in His angels, 
 nor in the Talmud, nor in your Bible ; yet you don't 
 run from me as if I had smallpox. Because Samuel 
 believes, not only in God and in the Bible, but be 
 lieves in that Messiah, you go cra/y over it, and act 
 as if he had committed a crime. 
 
 "Eeb Abraham, where is there another boy, born 
 as he was born, who is doing what he is doing, here 
 in New York ? He is a voice in the city's wilder 
 ness. Like a prophet he speaks, and they tear down 
 the dirty rat-holes of houses, and build better ; he 
 lifted up his voice, and the law-makers heard it, and 
 made laws to protect the children. What hasn't he 
 done in the last year, Eeb Abraham f And for the 
 Jews yes, for the Jews, who hate him because he has 
 been baptized ! 
 
 " Eeb Abraham, some day, when it is too late, you'll 
 want to go to your son, you'll want to crawl into the 
 shelter of his house." 
 
 "Not as long as I live ! Not as long as I live ! " 
 reiterated the old man. "The worms shall eat my 
 body while I am alive if I ever go to his house 
 where they baptize ! " 
 
 " Eeb Abraham, you're a child, just a child !
 
 312 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Some day you'll see what a fool you have been. 
 Now, go to sleep ; and you, Malke, go to sleep, too. 
 Leave the poor old man alone." 
 
 "Bivka, dear," Malke cried, extending her deli 
 cate fingers, " let me feel you." 
 
 " Not to-night, dear. Go to sleep ! " 
 
 "Bivka, I can smell that same dress that I don't 
 like. It smells like wine and cigars, it goes to my 
 lungs so. Bivka, don't wear that dress." 
 
 "Hush, childy dear. It's the only nice dress that 
 I have to wear, when I go to play for the ladies and 
 gentlemen. It's my work dress, sweetheart; good 
 night. No, don't kiss me, Malke not to-night. 
 Now go to sleep, my poor blind children. Good 
 night, Beb Abraham." 
 
 Down the stairs she went, and out into the dark, 
 towards the Bowery and Grand Street and in her 
 shadow walked a man who, hungry for a glimpse of 
 his father, had watched the windows of the barber's 
 home all the evening. A man, whose noble face and 
 purposeful bearing, marked him everywhere, the peer 
 of other men a man, whom the fallen knew as their 
 friend, and whom their traducers knew as their 
 enemy. 
 
 The Cafe" Alhambra in Grand Street, on the East 
 Side "Moskowsky's Place," as it was more often 
 called was a feature of the Ghetto, and an objective 
 point for slumming expeditions.
 
 THE ANAECHIST NUN 313 
 
 It was not native to the Ghetto, and had been 
 transplanted from the West Side, because the proprie 
 tor discovered that American people loosen their 
 purse strings, and stretch their morals most quickly, 
 when they can blame the foreigner for the iniquities 
 which they commit. 
 
 Moskowsky was a Eussian Jew, who had graduated 
 from all the schools of vice in Europe, and, conse 
 quently, based his venture on past experience. He 
 had learned that certain forms of wickedness in Paris 
 were maintained especially for Americans, who wish 
 to see the deplorably low moral condition of the 
 French people. Being a keen observer, he had noted 
 that while they were duly shocked by what they saw, 
 they almost always enjoyed the experience. 
 
 There were two parts to the Moskowsky establish 
 ment : one down-stairs, and one upstairs. The room 
 upstairs, reserved for Americans, was gorgeously fur 
 nished, a la Russe, and the walls were decorated in 
 scenes from Eussian history. There were numerous 
 small, curtained recesses for champagne suppers, and 
 other questionable and expensive diversions. 
 
 The basement was for the accommodation of Mos 
 kowsky' s frugal Eussian guests, who drank cheap tea, 
 smoked cheap cigarettes, and were quite satisfied with 
 the dilapidated room, void as it was of either beauty 
 or comfort. 
 
 Upstairs it was usually crowded, particularly on 
 Sunday nights, when the foreigner is supposed to be
 
 314 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 especially happy in destroying the Sabbath of the 
 Puritanical American, who coines in large numbers to 
 see how it is done. 
 
 Moskowsky surrounded his American guests, not 
 only by all the tawdry luxuries of Eussia, he also 
 prepared for them Eussian entertainments, with a 
 strong American flavour. The shrewd Jew knew 
 that the American is not long satisfied by pleasures 
 which he cannot understand ; so Moskowsky 's singers 
 and dancers mixed their native repertoire with jigs, 
 and the latest tunes from vaudeville land, and these 
 selections were always the most appreciated on the 
 programme. 
 
 The Sunday night dinners at the Caf6 Alhambra 
 were famous ; for they were composed of all the most 
 tempting dishes, which, by their superior merit, had 
 won places of honour in the culinary calendars of dif 
 ferent nations ; and although they were alien to each 
 other, "one touch of" garlic made "the whole 
 world kin." 
 
 Eivka had drifted back to this life, because her un 
 restrained nature ill-adapted itself to social conven 
 tions. She was a failure as a music teacher, a career 
 in which the Bruces had tried to be helpful to her. 
 At the Cafe" Alhambra, she could sit each night at 
 the piano, beating out her wild spirit in Tschaikow- 
 sky's and Chopin's passionate Slavic music. Then 
 she could make merry until daybreak with men and 
 women, many of whom, like herself, had abandoned
 
 THE ANAECHIST NUN 315 
 
 themselves to pleasure that they might forget their 
 pain. 
 
 When Samuel followed Eivka into the Caf6 Al- 
 harnbra dinner was being served. The room was full 
 of elegantly attired Americans, many of them chap 
 eroned by Jewish manufacturers, who were showing 
 their Gentile customers the sorest spot of Judaism. 
 The odour of deliciously cooked food, and the pungent 
 fragrance of fine wines filled the air. Young women 
 of various nationalities, but all in Eussian peasant 
 costume, waited upon the guests, who often chatted 
 and joked with a favourite waitress. Above the clat 
 ter of dishes, the clink of glasses, the laughter, the 
 loud conversation, and the coming and going of 
 guests, Eivka' s music rose, plaintively beautiful the 
 only harmonious sound in this bedlam of noises. A 
 varied musical programme of remarkable excellence 
 was given ; but the Americans ate the food, evidently 
 unconscious of the artistic treat, and drank in the 
 wines more eagerly than they "drank in" the music. 
 
 Samuel found a place in a secluded corner, and 
 watched the gay crowd ; while he ate as modest a meal 
 as could be purchased. Moskowsky kept up prices 
 in this part of his establishment, in order to keep out 
 the Eussian Jews, who found the same dishes, less 
 artistically garnished and less fancifully named, at 
 lower prices down-stairs. 
 
 Wistfully and anxiously Samuel watched Eivka, 
 who sat with her face towards him, that strong, al-
 
 316 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 most masculine, face, somewhat softened by her long 
 illness. Her hair had grown, and the soft, auburn 
 mass, caught loosely and low, made her look more 
 womanly. As she played, she mirrored in her face 
 the passing emotions which the music awoke in her 
 soul, and Samuel's heart went out to her in something 
 more than pity ; for he knew that she loved him. 
 
 With the ending of the programme, the revelry 
 began. Bottles of champagne, that heavy artillery 
 which so quickly levels the barriers of conventional 
 ity were uncorked ; the women began to laugh 
 loudly, and, when the first scream was heard, the 
 abandonment to pleasure was complete. 
 
 The noise, the laughter, the scent of the wines, and 
 the perfume-laden air awoke for a moment, in 
 Samuel, those terrific forces with which he had 
 grappled, and which so nearly conquered him that 
 night on Broadway, forces which even yet swept 
 over him more often than he liked to think. 
 
 Eivka was as merry as any of the guests, and 
 seemingly as abandoned to pleasure ; and he yearned 
 to go after her, to plunge in, and pull her out of the 
 mire. 
 
 He glanced towards her again, just as a man, whom 
 he recognized as Dr. Eosnik's son, Sigismund, led her 
 to a table, around which sat a group of Americans. 
 They were all more or less under the influence of 
 champagne, and among them Samuel saw Bob Pit- 
 kin. Sigismund' s business was to lead young Ameri -
 
 THE ANAECHIST NUN 317 
 
 cans through the labyrinths of foreign New York, 
 pointing out its various features ; and he introduced 
 Eivka as one of them. 
 
 When Samuel saw her sit down with the drunken 
 men, he felt the shame of it all crushing him. He 
 longed to run away, but could not. He wanted to 
 cry out, as he did on Broadway that awful night ; 
 but his voice had gone from him. Then he heard an 
 exclamation, as of alarm. Eivka had risen from her 
 chair, and faced the man opposite her. Samuel 
 could hear her words plainly, above the subsiding 
 noise. 
 
 "What do you mean ? Who do you think I am f 
 I am an artist!" 
 
 11 A piano-pounder ! and she calls herself an artist ! 
 Great Scott ! what airs ! " cried one of the Americans. 
 
 "She must be a spring chicken, strayed into the 
 wrong coop," another one remarked. 
 
 Sigismund arose, and tried to put his arm around 
 Eivka ; but she gave him a resounding slap in the 
 face. By this time the room was in an uproar. 
 The guests, having been rudely disturbed, were not in 
 a forgiving mood, and uncomplimentary comments 
 upon Eivka flew about. 
 
 "Pretty lame duck, ain't she?" 
 
 "Madder than a lame coon ! " 
 
 "Those Sheeny girls, when they get mad, are the 
 worst ever ! " 
 
 Eivka seated herself sullenly at the piano, and be-
 
 318 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 gan to play, trying to forget herself in the violence of 
 the sounds which she produced. 
 
 "Get out of here!" screamed one half-drunk 
 American youth. 
 
 "This isn't a boiler factory ! " 
 
 "Cut it out!" 
 
 "Give us a rest!" The chorus of voices grew 
 louder and harsher. 
 
 "Letup!" 
 
 "Dry up!" 
 
 "Shut up!" 
 
 Sigismund sprang to the piano, and removed the 
 prop from the lid, which brought it crashing down 
 upon the instrument. Eivka stopped playing, while 
 the notes she had struck vibrated on the air until 
 they were silenced at last by the laughing crowd, 
 which jeered at her. No one seemed to pity her ; she 
 did not expect it, she was not used to it ; yet her eyes 
 searched the room, looking for some one who might 
 understand her. Then she saw Samuel, and, wheel 
 ing towards the piano again, she bowed her head in 
 grief and shame. 
 
 "Boo-hoo! boo-hoo ! " the drunken men sur 
 rounded the piano and mocked her in her grief. 
 
 Some one laid a hand on her shoulder, and she 
 knew that it was he, even before he called her name. 
 
 Sigismund recognized Samuel, and cried: "A 
 priest and his sweetheart, a nun ! A Jew priest and 
 an Anarchist nun ! Ladies and gentlemen," he
 
 THE ANAKCHIST NUN 319 
 
 shouted, mounting a chair, " let me introduce to you 
 the Jew priest and the Anarchist nun. The Jew 
 priest who wants to shut up the town, and the Anar 
 chist nun who wants to burn it up." 
 
 Samuel had taken Eivka's hand and was leading 
 her out of the place. As the door closed behind 
 them, they could hear Sigismund's parting gibe : 
 ''The priest, the priest, the Jew priest, and the An 
 archist nun I"
 
 xxvn 
 
 RIVKA'S GOD 
 
 NOT a word was spoken by either Samuel or 
 Eivka, as they walked through the terrible 
 glare of the Bowery. They did not hear 
 its blatant noises, nor were they conscious of the 
 crowds which jostled them, as they mechanically 
 went towards the river, where at every step squalor 
 and vice, the grey twin sisters, met their wandering 
 daughters in scarlet. 
 
 Without resistance Eivka followed Samuel, until 
 they came to his house, in the densest and oldest part 
 of the East-side, where the Ghetto, Little Italy, and 
 Old Ireland met in hopeless confusion. There stood 
 the citadel of Samuel's faith home, church, and 
 hospital in one. Those who knew the place best, 
 knew not where one began and the other ended ; for, 
 here, no one discriminated against race or faith, 
 against ills of body or ills of soul. 
 
 Here, Father Antonius, loyal to his Church, ad 
 ministered to the living and the dying the means of 
 grace ; here, Dr. Eosnik healed and helped, asking 
 neither reward for his skill, nor wage for his labour. 
 Here Samuel preached and practiced the broad 
 faith inspired in his soul by a living Christ ; and here 
 he planned his battles against the corruption which 
 
 320
 
 EIVKA'S GOD 321 
 
 begat vice, and against the vice which brought forth 
 death. Here, too, old Bill fervently preached and 
 sang the gospel of salvation. 
 
 Samuel led Eivka, strangely docile, to the very 
 door-steps of his home. Then they heard, floating 
 through an open window, the deep, sweet tones of an 
 organ, and Bill's voice, singing a hymn of which he 
 never wearied: "I am washed in the blood of the 
 Lainb." Samuel drew Eivka towards the door ; but 
 the movement seemed to bring back her old, rebellious 
 self. 
 
 "No, no!" she cried. "This is not for me! 
 Moskowsky's and Peniel! No, no! Musk and in 
 cense won't mix ! Don't try it, Samuel." And she 
 drew him on. 
 
 "Come, Eivka," he pleaded; "come home with 
 me. We need you in this fight come," and he 
 vainly tried to persuade her to retrace her steps. 
 
 "No, Samuel, it is not for me ; this child's play of 
 being saved." And her voice grew hard. " If it 
 really were a fight ! Ah ! Samuel, if you were Moses 
 and could plague Pharaoh ! Ah ! if you were Moses, 
 I'd be Miriam and beat the tambourine and sing, 
 while the Egyptians sank into the sea ; but this thing 
 of washing and lambs Baa ! Baa ! I've no use 
 for it, I want to fight ! if I could only fight ! Sam 
 uel, why can't you be our Moses? I'll be Miriam for 
 you, and we will lead these wretched children of 
 Israel out of their captivity."
 
 322 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 1 1 Eivka, ' ' Samuel replied, ' ' the Jews have nobody, 
 no Messiah, to lead them into a spiritual and moral 
 fight. Eivka, they have no Christ. It is He who 
 gives hope to these unfortunates, and gives them 
 strength to fight their battles." 
 
 "Ah, Samuel, I can't understand itj that a Jew, 
 dead now 2,000 years, should make Himself felt in the 
 Bowery, down at the very bottom. That He should 
 give people strength nearly two thousand years after 
 His death, to fight their sins ! It's grand ! It's won 
 derful ! But oh ! If He would only give us strength 
 to fight tyrants, to roll off the yoke of economic slav 
 ery, to crush the Eosenfelts and their kind ! There, 
 this Jew is helpless, ah ! He is dead ! But other Jews 
 have thrown out the challenge to that brood ! Marx 
 and La Salle ! Samuel, if you would lead us on in 
 that fight, I'd be the Miriam ! I'd play the tam 
 bourine and sing : 'I'm washed in the blood of the 
 tiger ! ' Oh ! the trouble with that Nazarene is, He 
 was a Lamb ! We need the strength of lions and 
 tigers ! All priests are alike, all Christians are alike, 
 all religious systems are alike. They are here to sub 
 ject the poor to the rich. It's not for me, Samuel ! 
 I believe nothing nothing nothing ! I don't be 
 lieve in anybody but you ! Samuel, if I ever have a 
 God oh ! Samuel, if I ever have a God, He will look 
 like you-^be like you ! " 
 
 Through her tense body ran a tremour, which com 
 municated itself to Samuel, She clung to him, and
 
 BIVKA'S GOD 323 
 
 he could feel the beating of her heart and the heaving 
 of her bosom. 
 
 "Eivka," he whispered, "I can't be your God, 
 but I'll lead you to God ; let me lead you. Eivka, 
 let me lead you to my God ! There is a God, I know 
 Him He moves in my heart, He breathes His breath 
 into my life! Eivka, listen to me." He took her 
 hand in his. "Come with me, let me take you out 
 of this dreadful life you are living. Let me take you 
 home with me, let me " 
 
 "Where!" Eivka interrupted him. 
 
 "To Peniel House, to share the work with me, to 
 share this love " 
 
 ' ' Love f What love ? Whose love ? ' ' Eivka again 
 interrupted, stopping short ; (for they were nearing 
 the barber's home), and looking at Samuel with hun 
 gry eyes. 
 
 "The Divine love, Eivka, the saving love " 
 
 "Ah ! I see, Samuel," and she caught her breath 
 sharply. "You want to save me. You are very 
 kind. Divine love ! Saving love ! Faugh ! Sam 
 uel, even you smack of theology and incense. 
 
 "You want to save me, do you ? What about the 
 twenty thousand girls who walk the streets of New 
 York who are bought and sold and sold and 
 bought ; whom your rich merchants underpay, and 
 your rich merchants' sons corrupt ? Who will save 
 them from the Eosenfelts and all that clan! You'd 
 better go to Eosenfelt, and preach to him the Divine
 
 324 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 love. Go out to-morrow, and cry to the tyrants to 
 loosen their chains, to liberate their slaves, to stop 
 dragging thousands of women in the mire ! Oh ! 
 Samuel, go out and be my God ! Hurl dynamite at 
 them and be my Jove ! " 
 
 "Eivka, I am not Jove, nor his disciple. I have 
 no thunderbolts, I have only love ; but I have un 
 bound that love from conventionalities, and it's a 
 force, an element, not a sentiment " 
 
 " Samuel !" Eivka cried, "keep still! That is 
 very beautiful for Malke, for blind children I am 
 not blind oh ! but I wish I were ! Good-night ! 
 No, don't come upstairs your father may be 
 awake." But Samuel followed her. 
 
 They entered the kitchen, lighted by Eivka's lamp, 
 and Samuel looked once more into his father's face. 
 Uneasily the old man slept on his uncomfortable bed. 
 Samuel knelt by his side, tempted to embrace him. 
 
 "Not my son ! Such an old age ! Mine enemies 
 should live this way ! You don't understand, Malke, 
 he is a traitor to his faith ! Ach ! Elisa ben 
 Abuja ! " 
 
 Samuel's frame shook convulsively. Gently press 
 ing his lips to the old man's forehead, he was about 
 to leave the room. 
 
 "Eivka," Malke, awake as usual, was calling. 
 " Eivka, what did you bring me ? " 
 
 "Nothing, dearest. I left in a hurry. I for 
 got "
 
 EIVKA'S GOD 326 
 
 " Eivka," and Malke sat up in alarm. " There is 
 some one else in the room ! Oh ! It can't be 
 Samuel!" 
 
 Eivka quieted her ; for she feared that Abraham 
 would waken. 
 
 " Samuel," Malke cried joyously, "how glad I am 
 that you have come ! How is Lady Love ? " 
 
 "Lady Love sends you much love, little sweet 
 heart ! How are you ? " 
 
 "Better, when you are here. Can't you stay? 
 Oh, please stay, Samuel ! Stay and tell me a story ; 
 I always sleep so well when you tell me a story. 
 Won't you stay?" 
 
 " No, dear child, I dare not stay. I wish I might ; 
 but I must go. Now give me a big hug. Be good to 
 my papa, Malke ; be good to him. Good- night ! " 
 
 Eivka followed Samuel into the dark, little hall. 
 
 " Samuel, that is very beautiful for blind children, 
 about your Divine love, and your Lady Love ! How 
 I wish I were blind ! Come to me, Samuel ! Give 
 me one kiss, just one ! Samuel, if I ever have a God, 
 He will love me as you do. Now go go Samuel 
 go ! " And the door closed quickly behind her.
 
 XXVIII 
 THE FEAST OF BROTHERS 
 
 " "m IT ISS BEUCE ! " It was the barber's ex- 
 I %/ 1 cited voice calling, as he waved a roll 
 
 A- * -A. of note paper over his head. He stepped 
 in among the group of ardent workers, busily engaged 
 in decorating the beautiful rooms of Peniel House, 
 for a most joyous occasion ; its third anniversary, 
 and the dedication of an unusually well-equipped and 
 commodious emergency hospital, just completed. 
 
 "Take care, take care!" A dozen feminine 
 voices cried ; but it was too late. The barber's feet 
 had been caught in garlands of woodbine and clematis, 
 which were lying about the floor, and he fell among 
 them. When he lifted himself from his humiliating 
 posture, he was greeted by loud laughter, in which 
 he recognized the voice of his materialistic antagonist, 
 Dr. Eosnik. Under ordinary circumstances the two 
 were good friends ; but when the barber began to 
 read his verses aloud, the doctor would invariably 
 feel the poet's pulse, and ask him to show his 
 tongue. 
 
 "Making verses," Dr. Eosnik said, " is as distinct 
 a disease as whooping-cough, and there is no cure for 
 either." 
 
 326
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 327 
 
 The doctor was on a stepladder, tacking festoons 
 of vines across the windows, and Suszka, her face 
 beaming, was assisting him. Pavel's death, a few 
 months previous to this occasion, had given her the 
 long desired opportunity to come to her " golden 
 boy," and she made herself so useful that Jane 
 and Samuel often wondered how they had carried on 
 the work of Peniel House without her. 
 
 When Suszka saw the barber prone upon the floor, 
 entangled in the vines and flowers which she had 
 helped gather at Peniel Heights, with great expendi 
 ture of time and strength, she gave vent to her feel 
 ings by her usual exclamation, " Schma Jsrael ! " 
 
 "No, no, Suszka," Dr. Eosnik cried, with a grunt 
 and a chuckle. " Don't say : ' Hear, oh, Israel ! ' say 
 stop your ears, oh, Israel ; for the barber is around 
 with some poetry." 
 
 The barber contemptuously eyed his enemy, safely 
 astride the stepladder ; then, turning to Jane, said : 
 "Miss Bruce, I want to read some poetry to-night 
 in honour of the occasion, my first English poetry. 
 I want you to hear it before the others, just you 
 alone. These people, with ears of flesh and hearts 
 of stone, can't appreciate poetry. Won't you send 
 them away?" 
 
 At this, every one crowded around the poet, and 
 after some very mild urging, he mounted a window 
 seat, and, clearing his throat, read from his manu 
 script :
 
 328 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Crushed, like the grapes in the wine-press, 
 
 Torn, like the leaf from the tree, 
 Scattered, like chaff, by the storm-wind, 
 
 Discouraged, like armies that flee, 
 
 "Discouraged like armies of fleas?" Dr. Eosnik 
 called down from his perch. " Barber, that's very 
 good, very good ; only fleas are never discouraged. 
 A man who comes from Kottowin ought to know that." 
 
 "If you want to make poetry for the great feast 
 to-night," the barber retorted fiercely, swinging de 
 fiant arms at the doctor, so tantalizingly out of reach 
 "you may do so, and I'll go back to my cloak - 
 making." He was about to step down from his im 
 provised platform ; but Jane, in pity, urged him to 
 ignore the doctor, and continue his reading, which 
 he did with added emphasis and gesture. 
 
 Over mountains of hate and derision, 
 Through oceans of slanderous mire, 
 
 Columbia, our hope and our refuge, 
 We come to thee, saved as by fire. 
 
 "Fire?" Dr. Eosnik cried, derisively. "Don't 
 you mention fire to-night, or some of the Goyim will 
 say : l How much insurance did they get? ' " 
 
 The barber's face grew crimson from anger, as he 
 cried : "You pessimist ! You l fly in the ointment ! ' 
 Do you think that, to-night, any one will care what 
 we are ? Nobody will think about the difference be 
 tween Jew and Gentile that's all swallowed up in 
 brotherhood."
 
 THE FEAST OF BBOTHEES 329 
 
 "Don't get excited, barberleben," the doctor an 
 swered, coolly tacking a garland over one of the 
 windows. "Let me tell you something. Do you 
 know what the mayor and the judges and the rest of 
 the Gentiles will say, when they leave your l Feast 
 of Brothers ' to-night t " 
 
 "What they will say," the barber vociferated at 
 the top of his voice. "They will say: 'the mil 
 lennium has come ' ; ' the middle wall of sepa 
 ration is broken down ' ; that's what they will 
 say." 
 
 "I'll tell you what they will say," Dr. Eosnik 
 began, taking the carpet tacks from his mouth. 
 "They will say when they are among themselves, 
 'a pretty decent lot of Sheenies,' tra, la, la, la;" 
 and, with each of his tantalizing notes, he struck 
 the carpet tacks vicious blows. 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Eosnik! you don't mean that!" came 
 in tones of protest from Jane. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Miss Bruce. I didn't mean 
 you. You are one in a million you are a miracle you 
 were born without prejudice. The rest can't help 
 it ; it's born in them it's somewhere near the liver. 
 Perhaps, some day, I may discover the microbe of 
 race-hate, and destroy it. Until then, all your settle 
 ments and < Feasts of Brothers ' will be like a puff of 
 air. It's the same with the Jews, Miss Bruce. 
 They will go home and say : ' What a fine lot of 
 Goyim we have met. ' You take Samuel's father, and
 
 330 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 ten times ten thousand other Jews ; this place is an 
 eye-sore to them they would be happier if you had 
 built here a pork-packing establishment. Go ahead 
 with your poetry, barberleben, that's in the blood too, 
 and can't be cured ; go ahead." 
 
 "Poetry a disease, the divine fire a disease ! " the 
 barber expostulated, swinging himself back into his 
 window seat. " Every thing is a disease with you. 
 You materialist, you pessimist, you rationalist, you 
 burnt-out Vesuvius, you you you leave us alone ! 
 You're out of your element here, in this place of 
 harmony. If you come to-night, it won't be a 
 'Feast of Brothers!'" 
 
 "Yes, barberleben, it will be a 'Feast of 
 Brothers ' ; for, if we could, we would eat each other 
 up but go ahead with your poetry ! " 
 
 Jane waded through the garlands and the flowers 
 which strewed the floor, and standing by the doctor's 
 ladder, asked: "Eeally, doctor, what makes you 
 so skeptical about our work? Isn't it glorious? 
 Only think what has been accomplished here. And 
 to-night, Dr. Eosnik, many of my old friends, who 
 scoffed at the idea of my having a share in this work, 
 are coming to our celebration. You are a pessimist," 
 she said, shaking her finger at the doctor, who had 
 smiled in his most sarcastic manner while she was 
 speaking. 
 
 " That's all very well, Miss Bruce ; but it is like 
 the barber's writings poetry. When you come to
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 331 
 
 look into it, you find it just words. Pardon me, Miss 
 Bruce," and he dropped his hammer ; " what would 
 your old friends say if you asked them to call on us 
 and our families? How would that strike them? 
 Ya, ya, Fraulein ; this is going to be beautiful 
 poetry to-night ; but when your l Feast of Brothers ' 
 is over, it will be the same prose that it was before " 
 and, putting a handful of tacks into his mouth, the 
 doctor continued his task. 
 
 Jane's face clouded ; for she knew that the doctor 
 spoke the truth. Her old associates did ridicule her 
 work, and always looked askance when they met any 
 of her Jewish friends at Peniel Heights. 
 
 When Dr. Eosnik saw the effect of his sharp words, 
 he regretted them, and said: "Don't mind me, 
 Friiulein, don't mind me ; I am just an old pill-box, 
 without sentiment or poetry. Go ahead with your 
 ' Feast of Brothers ' ! It will be fine for your 
 Yankee friends to see that there are Jews like our 
 barber, who will waste their lives in making poetry ; 
 it will be lovely for them to see Jewish children who 
 have good manners and talent. Oy, oy ! Israel 
 has l talent to burn,' as they say. Go on, Fraulein, I 
 am with you in your 'Feast of Brothers.' I will 
 wave the Star-Spangled Banner, I will sing the new 
 Marseillaise that you are all practicing" and, tak 
 ing one of the flags which he was about to fasten to 
 the wall, he waved it wildly ; while he sang in a 
 quavering voice :
 
 332 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 " We are the myriads named and nameless, 
 
 From every age and every clime, 
 Who in the fight for freedom, blameless, 
 
 Won immortality in time. 
 One struggle more, supreme endeavour, 
 
 Then peace, not war, shall rule the earth, 
 
 And brotherhood shall come to birth, 
 And every chain be loosed forever." 
 
 ' l Now the chorus ; everybody sing ! ' ' And, waving 
 his tack hammer, Dr. Eosnik, by his own enthusiasm, 
 compelled every one in the room to join in the chorus : 
 
 ' ' Ye mountains clap your hands, 
 
 Exult, oh ! sky and sea, 
 March on, march on, 
 The morning breaks, the dawn of liberty." 
 
 "Now, barber," the doctor cried exultingly, as 
 he wiped the perspiration from his face, " don't you 
 think I am in tune for your ' Feast of Brothers ' to 
 night f Now go on and give us some more poetry." 
 
 The barber, however, had disappeared. Jane had 
 taken him to her private office, where, without inter 
 ruption, he unburdened himself of his poetry. 
 Still he seemed unhappy about something, and, after 
 much coaxing on Jane's part, he told his trouble. 
 
 "Miss Bruce, just one thing will be lacking to 
 make the anniversary perfect ; that is, Samuel's 
 father. Won't you go after him and bring him? 
 You alone can do it, no one else can do anything with 
 him ; he is as stubborn as a mule. You can bring 
 him, I am sure. You brought Bivka."
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 333 
 
 " I am not so sure," Jane replied, " that I brought 
 Eivka ; because I brought Yankev first, and the two 
 are inseparable now, and working together beauti 
 fully. I don't know what to say, or do, to bring Eeb 
 Abraham ; I have tried so often ; but I will go now, 
 and make one more effort." 
 
 The barber's request seemed to Jane like a response 
 to her own thoughts ; for all the morning her mind 
 had been with Samuel, in his unhappiness because of 
 the separation from his father. 
 
 Jane and Samuel met constantly, for she had taken 
 upon herself the supervision of many of the activities 
 of Peniel House, and had watched with him the 
 development of the hospital ; so that their lives 
 touched each other at many points. Jane's life, 
 indeed, centred in Samuel, with great pride in 
 his achievement, and with ever-increasing love for 
 him. 
 
 Now, as her carriage took her towards the barber's 
 home, she gave herself up to thoughts of Samuel and 
 his work, and all that his having come into her life 
 meant to her. How he had grown, mentally and 
 spiritually, during the few years since he was the in 
 voluntary guest in her father's home ; how strong and 
 handsome his face had become, and how well he 
 carried himself ; how perfectly he adapted himself to 
 all conditions and to all people, and, that which 
 called forth her greatest admiration how humble he 
 had remained in the many successes which had
 
 334 THE MEDIATOB 
 
 crowned h,is efforts. Praise had not spoiled him, 
 even as threats had not affrighted him ; and of both 
 he had received more than falls to the lot of common 
 mortals. 
 
 When Jane reached the barber's home, she found 
 Reb Abraham alone, bending over a piece of parch 
 ment. He was writing upon it the sacred sentences, 
 which were to be nailed at the doors of those faith 
 ful ones in Israel who still remained loyal to the Eab- 
 biuic teachings. 
 
 He lifted his head and looked at Jane indifferently. 
 After she had greeted him, he said : " I am growing 
 blind in my old days, Lady Love ; I didn't know 
 you. Will you forgive me ? How good of you to 
 come to see me. Oy, oy, oy ! Mine enemies should 
 have such eyes as I have ! " 
 
 Jane sat beside him, and, taking his hand in hers, 
 stroked it tenderly. The old man's face relaxed, and 
 the old-time smile strove with the furrows of sorrow 
 and age. 
 
 "It is good of you to remember me, Lady Love. 
 An old man, in America, is like an orphan in the 
 woods nobody to talk to. Everybody is busy, busy. 
 Ach, ach ! Mine enemies should have such an old 
 
 "Reb Abraham," Jane began, in German, which 
 she tried to make as Yiddish as possible, " will you 
 do me a great favour ? " 
 
 "I, to you, a favour? ts, ts ! Wonderful ! " he
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 335 
 
 said. " That I should do you a favour ! What shall 
 I do for you, Lady Love f " 
 
 "Reb Abraham, I want you to come with me to 
 see your son." 
 
 "I have no son! I have no son!" he re 
 plied, the tears trickling down his cheeks. 
 "My son died many years ago. OnYom Kipur ; 
 you know, that is the day when we fast for our sins. 
 I don't know how many years it is now, I don't 
 count the years any more ; it is all one long Yom 
 Kipur. 
 
 "I am fasting and praying, and praying and fast 
 ing, all the time ; only on Yom Kipur, oy, oy, oy, 
 Lady Love when the real Yom Kipur comes, then I 
 pray to die that day. It is a terrible day, and it's 
 coming again, the day after to-morrow. Oy, oy, oy ! 
 I hope I'll not live to see that day ! " 
 
 Jane pressed his hand in tender sympathy, and 
 wiped away his tears ; while she had difficulty in 
 keeping back her own. " Eeb Abraham," she said, 
 "you know that your son isn't dead. He is alive, 
 and everybody loves him you are the only one who 
 doesn't, and he is very unhappy because you don't 
 love him. Tell me, why won't you go to see him, or 
 let him come to see you ? " 
 
 "Lady Love," the old man said, withdrawing his 
 hand from hers ; "he is baptized, he is a traitor, he 
 has brought shame and disgrace upon my gray 
 head ! " His voice grew harsh from anger, which 90
 
 336 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 agitated him that he coughed, and could not stop, 
 until Jane brought him a glass of water. 
 
 "Reb Abraham," she said, " to-day the great 
 men of New York are coming to see the wonderful 
 things which your son has accomplished. If you 
 were there, you would be proud of him, I know." 
 
 "Proud? Oh, no ! If he were a beggar, I would 
 be proud to share my last crust with him ; if he were 
 a leper, I would be proud to nurse him ; but a man 
 who is baptized, and who baptizes others, a man who 
 will marry a Gentile ! Oy, oy, oy ! Mine enemies 
 should have such a son ! " 
 
 " Who told you he would marry a Gentile ? " Jane 
 asked ; while her heart almost stood still from fear, 
 and she realized, as never before, how great was the 
 joy of living in Samuel's presence, and how empty 
 her life would be without him. 
 
 " Of course, he will marry a Gentile," the old man 
 continued plaintively, not noticing Jane's question. 
 " Oy, oy ! I hoped he would marry Eivka ; but she 
 is all taken up with that man Tankev. Ach, what a 
 kosher Jew he is ! A Zionist ! A lover of I; rael ! 
 If only my son were like him ! " 
 
 Jane stroked the old man's forehead, trying to 
 soothe him, and unable to find words of comfort. 
 
 " You have such a good hand, Lady Love ; so soft 
 and smooth. It feels like my wife's hand. When 
 my head ached from study, she used to sit by me and 
 stroke my forehead ; it soothed me so. Ach, ach !
 
 THE FEAST OF BKOTHEES 337 
 
 My wife, my son ! Do you think my son will marry 
 a Gentile?" 
 
 "Beb Abraham," Jane replied, "I am sure that 
 your son will not do anything to displease you ; for I 
 know that he loves you very deeply. Now I must 
 go. How I wish you would promise to come to see 
 your son to-night." 
 
 11 Never, while I live!" was Eeb Abraham's re- 
 
 piy- 
 
 When Jane reached Peniel House, she found her 
 corps of workers with idle hands, but busy tongues ; 
 because Eivka and Yankev had come in a few mo 
 ments before and announced that their marriage had 
 just taken place. 
 
 Samuel came in, and as he pressed Eivka' s hand 
 while heartily offering his good wishes, her face was 
 overcast by a momentary cloud of pain ; but, when it 
 passed, she looked serene and determined. 
 
 "Mazel tov," Dr. Eosnik cried, climbing down 
 from his ladder. ' ' Where are you going to live I In 
 Zion or St. Petersburg ? " 
 
 "In St. Petersburg," Eivka replied, proudly. 
 "Zion has capitulated, and Eussia is triumphant." 
 
 " Poor Zion, and poor Yankev ! " the doctor said, 
 shaking his head dolefully. " So Yankev is a pris 
 oner of war. Nu, God have mercy on him ! " 
 
 "No, doctor," Eivka assured him, with a fond 
 look at Yankev. "He is the victor. He has laid 
 siege for ever and ever so many years. It's an age,
 
 338 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 isn't it, Yankev, an age. I am only a woman after 
 all, and I capitulated ; but I have made the terms of 
 peace. Next week we sail for St. Petersburg. We go 
 to fight for a free Eussia. Hurrah, hurrah for a free 
 Eussia ! " she cried ; and all but Yankev joined her. 
 
 11 Why don't you cheer, Yankev ? " 
 
 " Eivka, you know why. My heart is still sore for 
 Zion, sore for Hertzl. His death was a great blow to 
 me. Israel could not spare him ; but that is Israel's 
 fate. It either breaks the heart of its leader, or it 
 drives him over to the enemy. It makes him either 
 a traitor or a martyr. Pardon me, Samuel. I can't 
 get over it ; you ought to be a captain of Zion's host. 
 Ah, well ! They would break your heart. 
 
 " You too, Miss Bruce. You will either have your 
 heart broken, or you will give us up in disgust. See 
 them now, over there, fighting like animals to get 
 their lunch ! Bow, wow, wow ! They are almost 
 barking." 
 
 Among the flower-beds of the well-shaded court, 
 which connected Peniel House with the emergency 
 hospital, were hundreds of little children, celebrat 
 ing the day by a free luncheon, which Jane's bounty 
 had provided. Hundreds of other little ones, as well 
 as children of a larger growth, clamoured for admis 
 sion ; so that confusion reigned until Jane went among 
 them, and, by her gentle dignity, brought order out 
 of chaos. 
 
 The afternoon was given over to a neighbourhood
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 339 
 
 reception, and in the evening, after the dedicatory ex 
 ercises, Peniel House and the hospital were open for 
 inspection. Then followed a general reception, at 
 which Jane and Samuel received the many guests 
 who had come from all parts of the city. Men and 
 women, of many races and of many faiths, were 
 there to congratulate the man upon his achieve 
 ments, and to do honour to the woman who, by her 
 generosity, had made these great things possible. 
 
 When everything was ended the speeches, the 
 waving of flags, the marching and counter-marching 
 of clubs and classes, the reading of the barber's 
 poetry, and the singing of stirring songs Jane and 
 Samuel talked it all over as they sat on the veranda, 
 overlooking the cool, quiet court, now bathed in the 
 light of the autumn moon. 
 
 They were weary, but excited ; and each communi 
 cated to the other the tension of the body, and the 
 greater tension of the spirit. Jane rose to go home ; 
 but Samuel took her hands in his, detaining her. 
 
 " Do you remember, Miss Bruce, < there] are two 
 points in the adventure of the diver, one when, a 
 beggar, he prepares to plunge' ? " he stopped ; and 
 she finished the quotation for him, as she had finished 
 it, years before. 
 
 u l One, when a prince he rises with his pearl ' t 
 You have risen Samuel you have risen high and 
 you have a pearl of greatest price." 
 
 " No, Miss Bruce ; I am still a beggar, still a beg-
 
 340 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 gar never before so poor as to-night, when I re 
 alize that all I have and all I am I owe to you 
 that my life, my faith, my work, all come from you. 
 Ah, Miss Bruce ! I am but a beggar to-night ; a poor, 
 poor beggar ; yet a bold one, for I would ask more 
 from one who has already given me so bountifully." 
 
 As Jane looked deep into his eyes, he saw in hers 
 a light which blinded him. He drew her close and 
 closer to him, and she yielded herself to the passion 
 ate power which went out of him and benumbed her 
 senses. 
 
 11 May I ask, Jane?" 
 
 "Ask, Samuel, ask," she murmured. 
 
 Then his lips met hers, and he showered kisses 
 upon her, until he saw her grow pale, and saw the 
 joy of her face change into unutterable sadness. 
 
 "Don't ask my prince," she whispered, while 
 he still held her. " Because I can grant no more ! " 
 
 " Jane ! " he cried passionately. "I will ask ! I 
 love you, love you ! Oh, I worship you ! My prin 
 cess, your beggar asks one thing more grant it, 
 Jane my pearl ! Oh ! Jane, I will ask it you 
 shall not keep me from asking be my wife ! " She 
 loosed herself from his embrace, and, taking his 
 hand, looked once more into his eyes ; but now he 
 saw no answering passion there only holy candle 
 light. 
 
 " It cannot be, Samuel ; it cannot be." 
 
 "Why, not?" he demanded. Then recoiling, as
 
 THE FEAST OF BROTHERS 341 
 
 if stung by a sudden thought, he cried : "It isn't 
 it can't be oh ! Jane is it because of my race my 
 blood?" 
 
 Jane did not answer. Love held her speech in 
 thrall. 
 
 "It is my race my blood! Oh! Jane, Jane, 
 Jane ! " he groaned. " How can that be 1 My blood 
 is just human just human, like your own ! But I 
 understand I understand." 
 
 "No, you do not understand, Samuel, you do not 
 understand. Your race is not the barrier ; I never 
 think of your race as different from my own. I love 
 y<w, yourself the man, Samuel. I love you so in 
 tensely that sometimes I fear I love you more than I 
 love my God. Oh ! Samuel ; when I pray, I pray to 
 you waking or sleeping, I see your face. I did not 
 realize till now how true this is, I did not realize how I 
 have longed to know that you love me ; but now that 
 you have told me all I have unconsciously waited to 
 hear, now that my every heart-beat responds to yours, 
 now, when nothing on earth seems worth while 
 nothing but your precious love I feel how impossible 
 it is forme to be your wife." 
 
 "But why, Jane, why? I will not give you up ! 
 You must be my wife ! " And again he drew her to 
 him. 
 
 " Samuel," she said, releasing herself ; " one great 
 barrier already exists between you and your father. 
 Do you want to raise another ? Only to-day, he told
 
 342 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 me of his fear that you may marry a Gentile ; and I 
 will never help to widen the breach between you 
 although it breaks my heart to give you up ! " 
 
 Samuel stood as if stricken dumb by her words ; 
 then he took her hand, saying calmly and dispassion 
 ately : 1 1 Jane, I left my father for my faith. I have 
 done all in my power to be reconciled to him but in 
 vain. I cannot let him come between me and my 
 love. You must not, shall not, give me up ! Oh, 
 Jane ! Crown my work by this completion be my 
 wife ! " Again he drew her to him. " Jane, Jane," 
 he cried, almost triumphantly "our work's comple 
 tion my pearl, my crown ! " 
 
 With a deep and almost a bitter sigh, Jane gently 
 pushed him from her, and looked long into his face, 
 as if by her solemn eyes' more solemn light she would 
 quench the fire of his spirit. 
 
 " Samuel," she said tenderly, and with suppressed 
 emotion, " if I should yield myself to your love and 
 to mine, I might undo your work, and not complete 
 it. People would say: 'He embraced a Christian 
 woman, not the Christian faith.' I can see them, 
 hosts of them, passing this house, this house of the 
 people, pointing their fingers at it and leaving us 
 alone in our love. Samuel, the crown of your work 
 must be won by both of us, I fear, through sacrifice 
 and through self-denial. Samuel, my own, my life, 
 my all ; the only crown for such a work as yours and 
 mine is one of thorns."
 
 THE FEAST OF BROTHERS 843 
 
 He knelt beside her, and, looking into her sad eyes, 
 cried : "Jane, Jane ! I have felt the cruel thorns 
 all my life. Listen, Jane ! I was born on a death 
 bed ; when I played with a little child, for whom I 
 cared, she wounded me I still feel the pain of it I 
 never could look at the trees or the birds, I could 
 have no pleasure which did not bring me pain. You 
 don't know, oh ! Jane, you can't know you, the 
 daughter of a favoured race the agony of my child 
 hood. My father's love was changed to hate ; my 
 friends turned from me ; the church I loved and for 
 which I sacrificed my father, has given me nothing 
 but thorns thorns so sharp, that every time I pray 
 I can feel them pricking my soul. 
 
 " Now listen, Jane ! Are you listening I When I 
 saw you first on the steamer, in the midst of my 
 agony, my eyes rested upon you without pain. "When 
 I woke out of the second death into which a mob had 
 beaten me, I saw your face and I saw it again, with 
 out pain yes, with joy unspeakable. 
 
 "In all these years, I have never told you what my 
 heart felt, I could not tell you ; but I was born again 
 in you. I forgot the old life, the old pain, the old 
 faith ; and I believed in Christ again, because I be 
 lieved in you. Jane, the only earthly joy I have 
 ever known or ever shall know, is the joy of looking 
 into your eyes." He buried his face in her out 
 stretched hands, which had grown cold ; for her head 
 and her heart had need of every drop of life's blood.
 
 344 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 ' ( Listen just once more, Jane. You have given me 
 faith to believe that here, in America, a new race 
 could be born, free from prejudice and human hate 
 and I have laboured hard, buoyed by the splendour 
 of that thought. To-night, under this roof, built by 
 you, my one great desire and hope seemed realized 
 the pain all gone, the joy all rushing in. Now when 
 
 I ask for my crown, you offer me one of thorns ! 
 Jane, Jane," and his voice grew bitter and harsh. 
 
 II Oh, Jane ! you would give me a crown of thorns ! " 
 A silence followed, a decisive silence ; for a great 
 
 battle was being fought in Jane's breast. She took 
 her cold hands from Samuel's grasp, and, lay ing them 
 on his head, said tenderly : " Samuel, some of us 
 are born for the joy of wearing the thorn- crown ; 
 don't shrink from yours. You must prove yourself 
 faithful ; and oh, my love," her voice sank to a whis 
 per, "don't make me faithless. To-night when I 
 saw you at the height of your success, when I saw the 
 children pressing close to you in love, when I saw 
 those Jewish mothers trusting to you their sons and 
 daughters, when I saw the new light in their faces 
 and their faith and confidence in you I felt with a 
 mighty pressure that no human ties should hamper 
 you in your work. Samuel, Samuel, you are or 
 dained to a nobler love than mine, to a fatherhood 
 sweeter than wedlock could bring ; to be the brother 
 and the father of a new race, born of your new faith. 
 Samuel, my own true love, I ordain you to this
 
 THE FEAST OF BEOTHEES 345 
 
 task, with my heart's blood. Promise to be faithful. 
 Promise me ! " 
 
 "No," Samuel answered, almost defiantly, as he 
 clasped her in his arms. u I promise nothing, noth 
 ing, nothing, Jane but to love you more than life. 
 Oh, Jane Jane I am a coward and no hero. I do 
 not want the thorn-crown the sacrifice ! No, Jane, 
 I promise nothing nothing but to love you more 
 than life, more than duty. Oh, Jane, leave me this 
 one hope, this one joy promise me, my darling 
 that, some day, you will be my wife." Again he 
 drew her to him, and, worn out by the struggle, she 
 yielded herself to his embrace. Again he showered 
 kisses upon her, and she, tempted beyond her power 
 to resist, by his overmastering love, so precious 
 to her was about to surrender when confused 
 voices reached their ears, the ambulance, with its 
 clanging bell, came rattling down the street, and a 
 crowd of excited men ran into the hall, calling for 
 Samuel. 
 
 Jane sprang to the door, and as she opened it, a 
 bruised body was being carried through the corridor, 
 into the new hospital. 
 
 "Your duty calls you, Samuel," she said. 
 
 He looked dazedly at the bleeding form which the 
 men were carrying ; then he looked again, more com- 
 prehendingly, while a great cry escaped him ; and all 
 through the night his agonized moans rose and fell, 
 like the wind upon a storm-worn coast.
 
 346 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 When the gray light of morning dawned, Dr. 
 Eosnik gently disengaged Samuel's unconscious form 
 from the embrace in which he still held his stricken 
 father.
 
 XXIX 
 THE DAY OF AT-ONE-MENT 
 
 " r I A ELL me, why did they hurt me ? I did 
 nothing to them. I was just walking 
 -"- along oy, oy, oy ! " 
 "Be quiet, Eeb Abraham. So, take a drink of 
 water. Why did they hurt you? Who knows? 
 They were just a lot of hoodlums, full of evil and 
 malice. God only knows why people hate God 
 knows." 
 
 " It is because I am an old Jew, your Beverence." 
 "Don't call me your Eeverence," the monk re 
 plied. "Call me brother; we are brothers. Call 
 me Brother Antonius." 
 
 " Ach, it's good to hear you talk the old country 
 language ! It's a long time since I heard it. You 
 talk like the people from the hills. I didn't know 
 that priests could be as good as you are. What 
 haven't you done for me ! It's wonderful ! Ts, ts, 
 ts !" And the old man shook his head in astonish 
 ment. " Oy, but it's good to hear you talk the old 
 country language the hill talk nu strange, that 
 you are a Pole ! " 
 
 "Yes, I am a Pole from the Kottowin district." 
 " From Kottowin ? Wonderful ! " And again the 
 347
 
 348 THE MEDIATOR 
 
 old man shook his head. " I am from the town of 
 Kottowin. Do you hear any news from there f How 
 is the new Eabbi doing ? Oy, I forget. What should 
 you know about Eabbis f " 
 
 "I know all about them, Eeb Abraham; and I 
 know all about you." 
 
 " You know me? I can't believe it. That you, a 
 priest, should know me ! Did you know ah ! " 
 and the old man groaned. "Did you know my 
 apostate son!" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Eeb Abraham ; I knew him and 
 loved him as if he were my own son. Eeb Abraham, 
 I know how you feel about that son of yours ; but 
 I want to tell you that you ought to be proud of 
 him." 
 
 The old man averted his face, and tried to turn 
 towards the wall j but every bone in his body ached, 
 and he had to remain as he was. Brother Antonius 
 saw that he shut his eyes tightly, as if to blind him 
 self to the vision conjured by memories of the past. 
 Then, through the closed lids, tears trickled over 
 his bearded face. 
 
 "Eeb Abraham," the monk began, "I am the 
 guilty man who led your son into the monastery, I 
 am the guilty man. I brought great unhappiness upon 
 you, I know ; but it is as God wills. Your sou was 
 loyal to you, even to disobeying the cloister rules ; 
 for he was in Kottowin many a night, looking at you 
 through your little window, and piling the wood
 
 THE DAY OF AT-ONE-MENT 349 
 
 which you thought came there by a miracle. I often 
 went with him. He is a good a noble man. Here 
 in New York, he is like an angel to the people." 
 
 " But he is a priest, a Christian, and I am a Jew ! 
 Oy, oy!" 
 
 11 Eeb Abraham, Jew and Christian are not as far 
 apart as we think. The difference has been made 
 greater and greater by Jew and Christian alike. 
 The man whose name you will not pronounce, was a 
 Jew, and yet the founder of the Christian faith. All 
 we have, that is worth living for or dying for, we 
 owe to a Jew ; but we have forgotten and we hated 
 you and you hated us, and hated Him. You don't 
 understand me, I know you don't. I wish you did. 
 Now let the nurse come and give you your medicine. 
 I'll go away, if you want me to." 
 
 Eeb Abraham's hand was stretched out restrain - 
 ingly ; so Brother Antonius remained while, instead 
 of the nurse, Jane came. She had not left the 
 hospital since Eeb Abraham had been brought there 
 on the night of the celebration. 
 
 "Ach, ach! The Lady Love!" The old man 
 whispered feebly, half in gladness, half in sorrow. 
 " You see I am here. Oy, oy ! " 
 
 "How did it all happen, Eeb Abraham?" Jane 
 asked. 
 
 " You see, Lady Love, I came that night to look 
 at my son through the window. I saw him. Oy, 
 but he is grand to look at ! Like a prince ! My eyes
 
 360 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 haven't seen him for many a long, long year. Oy, oy, 
 oy ! Then, Lady Love, when I was going home, the 
 Hooligans came and gave me 'mackes.' Oy, oy ! 
 what 'mackes,' what 'mackes' !" 
 
 Jane seated herself by the bedside and stroked the 
 old man's bandaged head. 
 
 11 What a cool hand you have, Lady Love. Like 
 my wife's. Oy, oy, oy ! My wife Yom Kipur 
 the Cohanim " Confusedly his mind wan 
 dered through the maze of the years. 
 
 " My son, given to me of God where is my son ? " 
 he cried. " Dead ! Dead on Yom Kipur ! " 
 
 Then he sat erect in the bed, his gray beard sweep 
 ing the coverlet, his eyes aglow and his fingers mov 
 ing nervously. 
 
 " How long have I been here? " 
 
 "This is the second day," Jane answered. 
 
 " Tom Kipur ! Oy, oy, it's Yom Kipur, and I am 
 still alive I prayed to die that day. Oy, oy ! 
 Where is my bag my prayer-book my grave- 
 clothes? " Anxiously he looked about. 
 
 "And the ram's horn who will blow the ram's 
 horn? 
 
 " Where are the priests to bless the people ? My 
 son is dead ! No priest is left for the congregation 
 of the children of Israel ! " 
 
 The bag and the ram's horn were brought by the 
 barber. 
 
 Jane handed Eeb Abraham the bag, and helped
 
 THE DAI OF AT-ONE-MENT 351 
 
 him to draw out its contents. When he saw his 
 grave-clothes, he said : 
 
 "She made them, every stitch every stitch with 
 her own hands my wife his mother. Yom Kipur, 
 she died, Yom Kipur, she died. Ah ! Put it on 
 me." 
 
 Yellow from age the shroud was, and they slipped 
 it over his head ; tying it with the same strings which 
 Channah had so often fastened for him. 
 
 ' ' Now the cap. ' ' They put it on his head. t ' And 
 the book." 
 
 It was given him a well worn book a book out 
 of which more than one generation had read its 
 prayers. Eeb Abraham turned to Father Antonius. 
 
 "Your God won't care if I read my prayers, will 
 He? He knew Hebrew." 
 
 "He won't care, Eeb Abraham ; although you are 
 a Jew and I am a Christian, I read every day the 
 Psalms that you are reading now." 
 
 " Wonderful, wonderful ! You a Christian and la 
 Jew, and we read the same prayers ! ' ' And he shook 
 his head in amazement. 
 
 " What time is it, Brother Antonius T " 
 
 "Ten o'clock." 
 
 "Oy, oy ! I have missed my morning prayer! 
 Nil, God will forgive. In over seventy years, I have 
 not missed my morning prayers. He will forgive. 
 Oy, oy. My eyes ! I can't see ! " 
 
 He dropped the book and his head sank back.
 
 352 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 Wearied, and exhausted, he soon slept. When he 
 awoke, he felt nervously about for his book ; but 
 when he held it, he still looked for something, mov 
 ing his hands restlessly over the covers. Then he 
 heard a familiar voice. 
 
 "Eeb Abraham, how are you?" said Dr. Eosnik. 
 He felt the old man's pulse and heart ; then, shaking 
 his head, went into the hall. In a few moments, 
 hasty steps were heard, the door opened, and Samuel, 
 pale and worn, the flush of fever on his cheeks 
 flung himself into the room and on to his father's bed. 
 
 "Tateleben! Tateleben ! Oh, dear father!" 
 The two men held each other in a fond embrace. 
 
 "Father, my own dear father, forgive me! Oh, 
 forgive me ! I am your son, your own son ! Love 
 me, love me, as you used to love me ! " And the two 
 again clung to each other. 
 
 "My son ! " the old man said through his tears. 
 " Forgive your blind father ; for now he can see. I 
 can see ! I can see, Samuel !" And he stretched 
 out his arms ecstatically. "I can see now ! Samuel, 
 I can see Kottowin the Temple and Channah, my 
 wife and my son a Cohen ! A priest ! I can see 
 the congregation ! Samuel, I can see the house, our 
 house and the plum trees and the bridge ! Oy, 
 oy ! The lilacs are in bloom but where is the 
 creek 1 ? It's gone the creek is gone thank God, 
 the creek is gone ! " . # 
 
 While Eeb Abraham was speaking, Suszka had
 
 THE DAY OP AT-ONE-MENT 353 
 
 come in and thrown herself beside the bed, crying 
 bitterly, and repeating again and again : "Schma 
 Jsrael ! Schma Jsrael !" 
 
 Eeb Abraham's hand sought hers, and he said : 
 " You are a good woman, Suszka, a kosher woman. 
 Kosher for the infant, as the Rabbi said. Kosher 
 
 kosher " he repeated, while his hands wandered 
 
 over Suszka' s face. Then he sank into a stupor; 
 while his friends gathered about him, weeping. 
 
 Eivka and Yankev, Malke, her sight restored, her 
 young face glowing from the light within, Dr. Eos- 
 nik, struggling with the unwonted tears, which he 
 vainly tried to repress ; and the barber, who, despite 
 his heresies, reverently held the ram's horn, for 
 which Eeb Abraham had asked. 
 
 All day the watchers sat by the bedside, cheering 
 one another as best they could ; while the life of Eeb 
 Abraham ebbed itself out to the shore of the great sea. 
 Samuel sat on the edge of the cot, his eyes fondly 
 fixed on the worn, wan face of his father his breast 
 torn by poignant grief and bitterest disappointment. 
 They had done it here here in America in the land 
 of friends in this Christian land on the day when 
 he thought his task almost done the barriers broken 
 down. After all, Jane was right he was born for 
 pain for the thorn-crown. 
 
 Into his bitter musings came the consciousness that 
 Jane's hand was moving gently over his hot forehead. 
 That sympathetic pressure reminded him of his still
 
 354 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 greater grief ; yet it soothed him, as if each touch 
 held in it a rich promise. Samuel needed that com 
 forting touch ; for as he watched the laboured breath 
 ing of his father, and knew that because of unreason 
 ing malice, his life had been sacrificed wild, blind 
 hate again took hold of him, and he felt himself 
 praying for Samson's destructive strength, that he 
 might avenge his father. 
 
 Less and less potent became the influence of Jane's 
 presence. Samuel had grown hopeless in his agony, 
 and all the world seemed but a huge, black pall of 
 hate, against which he longed to hurl himself. He 
 had forgotten his work, he had forgotten his love, he 
 had forgotten his God when his father suddenly 
 rallied, and looked around, his eyes bright from the 
 fire of fast-consuming life. 
 
 11 Come, my son. It is time for the great blessing 
 of the Cohanim." With trembling fingers, he pulled 
 his prayer-mantle from the bag, and spread it over his 
 son. 
 
 "Now fold your hands, this way, Samuel this 
 way." He folded his son's hands. " Now lift them 
 above your head ; " and Samuel obeyed, as if moved 
 by a mechanical and irresistible force. 
 
 " Now say it with me, the great blessing upon 
 Israel." 
 
 By a common impulse, the watchers at the bedside 
 rose, while Samuel stretched forth his hands, and his 
 voice blended with that of his father.
 
 THE DAY OF AT-ONE MENT 355 
 
 "Thou hast commanded us to bless thy people, 
 Israel." 
 
 The little company, reading from the old man's 
 prayer-book, responded : " Thou hast commanded 
 the priests to bless us. May it be a perfect blessing 
 without aught of impediment, or of iniquity, from 
 henceforth and forever." 
 
 Father and son again pronounced a blessing: 
 "May He bless thee, the Eternal One, and preserve 
 thee, may He make His face to shine upon thee and 
 be gracious unto thee. May He lift up His face unto 
 thee and give thee peace." 
 
 Only Samuel's voice, broken by grief, said the 
 priestly " Amen." 
 
 Eeb Abraham had fallen back upon his pillow, cry 
 ing faintly, " The ram's horn, it is time for the ram's 
 horn ! The day is nearly done. Channah my wife 
 my son " 
 
 Then the barber pressed the ram's horn to his lips, 
 and blew upon it a wild, weird note, a note of pain 
 Israel's historic note the note of sacrifice. And 
 with that sound Eeb Abraham's soul was wafted to 
 its maker. 
 
 ****** 
 
 They had buried him in the God's acre, far from 
 the tumult of the city. Among strangers, gentle 
 hands laid him to rest, and gentler hands had carried 
 his spirit to his loved one across the dark river. 
 
 A great concourse of people went out with Sam-
 
 356 THE MEDIATOE 
 
 uel Jews and Gentiles, people of many nation 
 alities and races to help make amends for the ancient 
 wrong, perpetrated anew. When their heads were 
 bowed, those who knew how to pray asked of God 
 that this might be the last sacrifice to human hate. 
 
 Slowly and reverently, the people turned away, 
 until only Jane and Samuel stood together beside the 
 new made mound. Silently they stood. They needed 
 no speech. Until the dusk, they lingered ; then went 
 out from the peace of the dead, towards the tumult of 
 the living. 
 
 As they walked to where Jane's carriage waited to 
 take her to Peniel Heights, she watched Samuel anx 
 iously, and when she saw his eyes rest pityingly upon 
 the crowded city, her face brightened. 
 
 " "Where are you going, Samuel ? " she asked, as he 
 helped her into the carriage. 
 
 Turning his face almost joyfully towards the East, 
 he answered: "I am going back to where the next 
 day's duty awaits me, Jane." 
 
 " May I go with you, Samuel I " 
 
 THE END
 
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