THE PICTURE EVOLVES
Such was my model's simple narrative, the homely realism of which
appealed to me on my most imaginative side, for through all its sordid
details stood revealed to me the tragedy of the Wandering Jew. Was it
Heine or another who said 'The people of Christ is the Christ of
peoples'? At any rate, such was the idea that began to take possession
of me as I painted away at the sorrow-haunted face of my much-tried
model--to paint, not the Christ that I had started out to paint, but
the Christ incarnated in a race, suffering--and who knew that He did
not suffer over again?--in its Passion. Yes, Israel Quarriar could
still be my model, but after another conception altogether.
It was an idea that called for no change in what I had already done.
For I had worked mainly upon the head, and now that I purposed to
clothe the figure in its native gaberdine, there would be little to
re-draw. And so I fell to work with renewed intensity, feeling even
safer now that I was painting and interpreting a real thing than when
I was trying to reconstruct retrospectively the sacred figure that had
walked in Galilee.
And no sooner had I fallen to work on this new conception than I found
everywhere how old it was. It appeared even to have Scriptural
warrant, for from a brief report of a historical-theological lecture
by a Protestant German Professor I gleaned that many of the passages
in the Prophets which had been interpreted as pointing to a coming
Messiah, really applied to Israel, the people. Israel it was whom
Isaiah, in that famous fifty-third chapter, had described as 'despised
and rejected of men: a man of sorrows.' Israel it was who bore the
sins of the world. 'He was oppressed and he was afflicted, yet he
opened not his mouth; he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter.' Yes,
Israel was the Man of Sorrows. And in this view the German Professor,
I found, was only re-echoing Rabbinic opinion. My model proved a mine
of lore upon this as upon so many other points. Even the Jewish
expectation of the Messiah, he had never shared, he said--that the
_Messhiach_ would come riding upon a white ass. Israel would be
redeemed by itself, though his neighbours would have called the
sentiment 'epicurean.'
'Whoever saves me is my _Messhiach_,' he declared suddenly, and
plucked at my hand to kiss it.
'Now, you shock _me_,' I said, pushing him away.
'No, no,' he said; 'I agree with the word of the moujik: "the good
people _are_ God."'
'Then I suppose you are what is called a Zionist,' I said.
'Yes,' he replied; 'now that you have saved me, I see that God works
only through men. As for the _Messhiach_ on the white ass, they do not
really believe it, but they won't let another believe otherwise. For
my own part, when I say the prayer, "Blessed be Thou who restorest the
dead to life," I always mean it of _you_.'
Such Oriental hyperbolic gratitude would have satisfied the greediest
benefactor, and was infinitely in excess of what he owed me. He seemed
unconscious that he was doing work, journeying punctually long miles
to my studio in any and every weather. It is true that I early helped
him to redeem his household gods, but could I do less for a man who
had still no bed to sleep in?
My recovery of the Rotterdam bundle served to unveil further
complications. The agents at the East End charged him three shillings
and sixpence per letter, and conducted the business with a fine legal
delay. But it was not till Kazelia was eulogized by one of these
gentry as a very fine man that both the model and I grew suspicious
that the long chain of roguery reached even unto London, and that the
confederates on this side were playing for time, so that the option
should expire, and the railway sell the unredeemed luggage, which they
would doubtless buy in cheap, making another profit.
Ultimately Quarriar told me his second daughter--for the eldest was
blind of one eye--was prepared to journey alone to Rotterdam, as the
safest way of redeeming the goods. Admiring her pluck, I added her
fare to the expenses.
One fine morning Israel appeared, transfigured with happiness.
'When does man rejoice most?' he cried. 'When he loses and finds
again.'
'Ah, then you have got your bedding at last,' I cried, now accustomed
to his methods of expression. 'I hope you slept well.'
'We could not sleep for blessing you,' he replied unexpectedly. 'As
the Psalmist says, "All my bones praise the Lord!"'
Not that the matter had gone smoothly even now. The Kazelia gang at
Rotterdam denied all knowledge of the luggage, sent the girl to the
railway, where the dues had now mounted to L10 6s. Again the cup was
dashed from her lips, for I had only given her L9. But she went to the
Rabbi, and offered if he supplied the balance to repledge the Sabbath
silver candlesticks that were the one family heirloom in the bundle,
and therewith repay him instantly. While she was pleading with him, in
came a noble Jew, paid the balance, lodged her and fed her, and saw
her safely on board with the long-lost treasures.