THE FEAST OF PASSOVER.
A point of friendly contention between Aaron Cohen and the engineer
was the observance of the Sabbath day. From sunset on Friday till
sunset on Saturday Aaron would do no work and attend to no business.
He paid the workmen their wages on Friday, and made up the accounts on
that day. They hailed the new arrangement with satisfaction, but the
engineer was rather fretful over this departure from the usual custom.
"What is your objection?" asked Aaron.
"It must confuse affairs," replied the engineer.
"Are not the accounts faithfully kept," said Aaron, "and does not the
work go on regularly?"
"Oh, I am not complaining," said the engineer, "only----"
"Only what?" said Aaron, with a smile.
The engineer could not explain; he was a skilful engineer, but a weak
controversialist. The only answer he could make was,--
"You are living in a Christian land, among Christians."
"I am none the less a Jew. All over the world we live in Christian
lands, among Christians; we are a nation without a country. You
observe your Sunday Sabbath as a day of rest."
"Certainly I do."
"Allow me, also, to observe my Sabbath on the day appointed by my
faith."
"What difference can it make to you," persisted the engineer,
"Saturday or Sunday?"
"If that is your view," said Aaron, his eyes twinkling with amusement,
"let us both keep our Sabbath on the Saturday."
Aaron conducted the argument with such perfect good temper that the
engineer could not help laughing at the rebuff, and the subject was
allowed to drop. Nor was it revived on the subsequent occasions of
the Jewish holydays, which were zealously observed by Aaron and his
wife. They were both orthodox Jews, and nothing could tempt them to
neglect their religious obligations; neither of them had ever tasted
shell-fish or touched fire on the Sabbath. The festival of the New
Year in the autumn, with its penitential Day of Atonement and its
joyful Feast of Tabernacles, the Feast of Lights (Chanukah) in the
winter, the Festivals of Purim and Passover in the spring, the Feast
of Pentecost in the early summer--not one of these days of memorial
was disregarded. The m'zuzah was fastened on the doorposts, and
regularly every morning did Aaron put on his garment of fringes and
phylacteries and say his morning prayers. Thus was he ever in
communion with his Maker.
He experienced at first great difficulty in conforming to Jewish
precepts. There was no synagogue in the village, and no killer of
meat, according to the formula prescribed by the Mosaic law. For
several days his family lived upon fish and vegetables and eggs; then
he succeeded in arranging with a Jewish butcher in a town some fifty
miles distant for a regular supply of meat and poultry. The only
co-religionist with whom he came into close personal association was a
man of the name of Levi, who had no such scruples as he in regard to
food. This man was married, and had three sons, the eldest of whom was
approaching his thirteenth year, the age at which all Jewish lads
should be confirmed. In conversation with M. Levi Aaron learned that
he had no intention of carrying out the ceremony of confirmation.
Yearning to bring the stray sheep back into the fold, Aaron invited M.
Levi and his family to celebrate the Passover with him, and there upon
the table the Levis saw the white napkins with the special Passover
cakes between the folds, the shankbone of a shoulder of lamb, the
roasted egg, the lettuce, the chevril and parsley, the cup of salt and
water, the savoury balls of almond, apple, and spice, and the raisin
wine--all of which are symbols of the Passover, the most joyous of the
Jewish festivals. In this year the first night of the holydays fell
upon the Sabbath, and the apartment presented a beautiful appearance,
with the lighted candles, the bright glass, and the spotless purity of
the linen. The house had been cleaned from top to bottom, all leaven
had been removed, and every utensil and article that was used for the
cooking and partaking of food was new. M. Levi's eyes glistened as he
entered the apartment and looked around; his wife's also, for she had
been brought up in an orthodox Jewish home. Old memories were revived,
and as they sat down at the table it was to them as if they had
suddenly gone back to the days of their youth. Love and self-reproach
shone in their faces as they gazed upon their children, to whom this
picture of home happiness was a delightful revelation. "Blessed art
Thou, O Lord, our God!" said Aaron, in the ancient tongue, after the
filling of the first glasses of wine. "King of the universe, who
createst the fruit of the vine. Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God,
King of the universe, who hath chosen us from among all people, and
exalted us above all languages, and sanctified us with His
commandments; and with love hast Thou given us, O Lord, our God,
Sabbaths for rest, and solemn days for joy, festivals and seasons of
gladness, this day of rest, and this day of the feast of unleavened
cakes, the season of our freedom; a holy convocation in love, a
memorial of the departure from Egypt. For Thou hast chosen us and
sanctified us above all people; and Thy holy Sabbaths and festivals
hast Thou caused us to inherit with love and favour, joy and gladness.
Blessed art Thou, O Lord, who sanctifiest the Sabbath, and Israel, and
the seasons." After this prayer the first glass of wine was drank, and
the children smacked their lips. Rachel's blindness did not prevent
her from superintending the kitchen, and under her direction
everything was prepared for the table almost as skilfully and
tastefully as if her own hands had done the work. Her raisin wine was
perfect, and Aaron smacked his lips as well as the children: the
finest vintage of champagne would not have been so palatable to him.
Rachel's face was turned towards him as he raised the glass to his
lips; she was anxious for his approval of the wine, which he had
always praised extravagantly, and when she heard him smack his lips
she was satisfied. Aaron proceeded with the ceremonies and prayers; he
had purchased books of the "Hagadah," the Hebrew on the right-hand,
and a translation in French on the left-hand pages, so that his
guests, young and old, could understand what was being said and done.
In silence they laved their hands, chevril was dipped into salt water
and distributed around, and the middle cake in the napkins broken.
Then Aaron held aloft the dish containing the roasted egg and the
shankbone, and intoned, "This is the bread of affliction which our
ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all that are hungry enter and
eat; let all that are in want come hither and observe the Passover."
The prayers were not uttered in a sing-song drawl; there was a joyous
note in the chanting, which proclaimed that the hearts of the
worshippers were glad. They heard from Aaron's lips what was said by
the wise son, the wicked son, and the simple son; how a handful of the
children of Israel went into Egypt, and how they increased and
multiplied till they became a mighty nation; how they were oppressed
by the Egyptians, and forced to build stone cities for Pharaoh,
Pithom, and Raamses; how they prayed unto the Eternal, and He
remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and punished
the oppressors with the ten plagues; how, under Divine protection,
Israel went forth from Egypt, and walked through the Red Sea. "The sea
beheld, and fled; Jordan was driven backward. The mountains skipped
like rams, the hills like lambkins. What ailed thee, O sea, that thou
fledst--thou, Jordan, that thou wast driven backward--ye mountains,
that ye skipped like rams--ye hills, like lambkins? Tremble, O earth!
in the presence of the God of Jacob, who turned the rock into a pool
of water, the flinty rock into a fountain of water." The first portion
of the service ended, the books were laid aside, and the table spread
for supper. While the preparations for the meal were being made by
Prissy, who wore a new frock for the holydays and was as clean as a
new pin, an animated conversation went on. Aaron was in the merriest
of moods, and his witty sayings and jokes kept the company in a ripple
of laughter. It is a special feature in the home worship of the Jew
that it promotes good fellowship, breeds good feeling, and draws
closer the domestic ties which so strongly distinguish the race.
Innocent jest is encouraged, it is really as if it were a duty that
every one shall be in a holiday humour. The subjects of conversation
are of a cheerful nature, scandal is avoided, the tenderer feelings
are brought into play. Scrupulous attention is paid to cleanliness,
young and old attire themselves in their best. When we appear before
the Sovereign we make ourselves resplendent; so does the Jew when he
appears before the King of heaven and earth. On such occasions
slovenliness would be a crime. It is not only the outer man that is
attended to; the choicest special Jewish dishes are prepared; there is
no stint, plenty abounds, and friends are gladly welcomed, and invited
to partake; everything is done that can contribute to harmony and
content. Young people bill and coo, and their elders look on with
approving eyes. These are the golden hours of love's young dream.
"It does my heart good," said Madame Levi, laughing heartily at one of
Aaron's jokes, "to be among our own people again."
"Come often, come often," said Aaron Cohen. "You and yours will always
be welcome."
The meal consisted of coffee, Passover cakes, fresh butter, and fried
and stewed fish. Nothing could be more tempting to the eye than the
large dish of stewed fish, with its thick yellow sauce of egg and
lemon, and nothing more tempting to the palate, unless it were the
fried fish, with its skin nicely browned, and cooked in such a way as
to bring out the full sweetness of the flesh.
"We have the advantage of the Gentile," chuckled Aaron, who always
took fried fish for his first course, and stewed for his second. "We
know how to fry fish. It is strange that in all these thousands of
years he has not discovered the simple secret."
"I have not tasted such stewed fish for I don't know how many years,"
observed Madame Levi, who had just been assisted to a second helping.
"Mrs. Cohen fries fish beautifully," said Aaron, "but her stewed fish
is a marvel."
"That is the way my husband always speaks of me," said Rachel, with an
affectionate smile. "He does not believe I have a fault."
"A woman who cooks fish as she does," said Aaron, oracularly, "cannot
have a fault; she is a perfect woman. She is a glory and an honour to
her sex. Again I assert, her stewed fish is a marvel."
"He forgets," said Rachel sweetly, to her guests, "that I have to
trust others."
"My dear," persisted Aaron, "you stand by and direct. A victorious
general does not rush into the battle; he stands aside, and gives his
orders. With my own eyes I saw you squeeze the lemons; with my own
eyes I saw you mix the batter; each slice of fish passed through your
hands before it was put into the pan and saucepan. You know, Madame
Levi, how important it is that the fish should be properly dried
before it goes through the ordeal of fire."
"You bring it to my mind," said Madame Levi, speaking in a pensive
tone; "my mother could fry and stew fish beautifully."
"But not like Rachel," rejoined Aaron. "I will give way on every other
point, but not on this. If I were a plaice or a halibut I should be
proud to be treated so; it would be a worthy ending of me, and I
should bless the hand that cut me up. I should feel that I had not
lived in vain. There is a spiritual touch," he continued, waiting
until the laughter had subsided, "in these things. Half a lemon
more or less makes all the difference in stewed fish; an egg more or
less, the consistency of the batter, and the quality of the oil, make
all the difference when you are frying. In England the poor and
middle-class Christians are shocking cooks; the moment they touch it
half the goodness of the food is gone. It is a melancholy fact, and it
is the cause of innumerable domestic grievances. It drives away
cheerfulness, it breeds sulks and bad temper, and yet the women will
not learn--no, they will not learn. When you see a well-ordered
household and a peaceful home, the children happy and contented, the
husband and wife affectionate to each other, you know at once that the
mistress is a good cook. You laugh; but it is really a very serious
matter. It goes straight to the root of things."
Grace was said after supper, and the reading of the Passover prayers
continued. Aaron had a fine baritone voice, and he did full justice to
the ancient psalmody, which has been transmitted through long ages,
from generation to generation. "Were our mouths filled with sacred
song as the sea is with water, our tongue shouting loudly as its
roaring billows, and our lips extended with praise like the widely
spread firmament, and our eyes sparkling like the sun and the moon,
and our hands extended like the eagle's wings in the skies, and our
feet swift as the hind's, we should yet be deficient to render
sufficient thanks unto Thee, O Lord our God, and the God of our
fathers, or to bless Thy name for even one of the innumerable benefits
which Thou hast conferred upon us and our ancestors." Then followed
"It was at midnight." "When the blaspheming Sennacherib purposed to
assail Thine habitation, Thou didst frustrate him through the dread
carcases of his host in the night. Bel and its image were hurled down
in the darkness of the night. To Daniel, the much beloved man, was
the mysterious vision revealed in the night.... Thou wilt tread the
wine-press for them who anxiously ask, Watchman, what of the night?
Let the Eternal, the Watchman of Israel, cry out and say, The morning
hath come as well as the night." Nearly at the end of the service
there was a merry chant, "Oh, may He who is most mighty soon rebuild
His house; speedily, speedily, soon, in our days." And the prayers
ended with the curious poem, "One only kid, one only kid," supposed to
be a parable illustrating the written and unwritten history of the
Jewish race.
So conducive of cheerfulness and amiability had been the dedication of
the Passover that smiles were on every lip and good feeling in every
eye; amiability and good nature shone on their countenances. An hour
was devoted to a chat upon general subjects, and after accepting an
invitation to come again upon the following night, the Levis took
their departure. On their way home they spoke freely of the
hospitality and geniality of their host, of the sweet disposition of
Rachel, with whom they had all fallen in love, of the order and
cleanliness of the house, of the salutary effects of an evening so
spent. Never had they been so deeply impressed with the beauty of the
religion into which they had been born, the obligations of which they
had thrust aside and neglected, principally, as M. Levi would have
advanced, on the score of convenience. Had Aaron Cohen argued with M.
Levi upon this neglect it is likely he would have contributed to the
defeat of the object he had in view; but he was far too astute to
argue with a man who, being in the wrong, would have obstinately
defended himself when thus attacked. He knew the value of the lesson
the Levis had received, and he was content to wait for the result. He
would have been greatly gratified had he heard the whispered words
addressed to her husband by Madame Levi.
"Cannot we do the same? Cannot we live as they do?"
M. Levi, deep in thought, did not answer the question, but it was
nevertheless treasured in his memory. Treasured also in his memory
were some words that passed between his eldest son and his wife.
"Mother, I am a Jew?"
"Yes, my dear."
"I am glad."
"Why, my child?"
"Because M. Cohen is a Jew. I want to be like him."
M. Levi looked at his son, a handsome lad, whose face was flushed with
the pleasures of the most memorable evening in his young life. To
deprive him of his confirmation would be robbing him of God's
heritage. The father was at heart a Jew, but, like many of his
brethren residing in Christian communities, had found it easier to
neglect his religion than to conform to its precepts. Putting it
another way, he thought it would be to his worldly disadvantage. He
had made his will, and therein was written his desire to be "buried
among his people"--that controlling wish which, in their last moments,
animates so many Jews who through all their days have lived as
Christians. "Let me be buried among my people," they groan; "let me be
buried among my people!" That is their expiation, that is their charm
for salvation, for though all their years have been passed in
attending to their worldly pleasures and temporal interests, they
believe in a future life. These men have been guided by no motives of
sincerity, by no conscientious inquiry as to how far the tenets of an
ancient creed--the principal parts of which were formulated while the
race was in tribulation--are necessary and obligatory in the present
age; they are palterers and cowards, and grossly deceive themselves if
they believe that burial in Jewish ground will atone for their
backsliding. M. Levi was not a coward, and now that his error was
brought home to him he was strongly moved to take up the broken
threads of a faith which, in its purity, offers so much of Divine
consolation. He himself broached the subject to Aaron, and his resolve
was strengthened by the subsequent conversations between them.
"That man is to be honoured, not despised," said Aaron, "who changes
his opinions through conviction. He may be mistaken, but he is
sincere, and sincerity is the test of faith. You believe in God, you
acknowledge His works, you live in the hope of redemption. In religion
you must be something or nothing. You deny that you are a Christian.
What, then, are you? A Jew. What race can boast of a heritage so
glorious? We have yet to work out our future. Take your place in the
ranks--ranks more illustrious than that which any general has ever led
to victory--be once more a soldier of God."
These words fired M. Levi. The following Saturday his place of
business was closed; from a box in which it may be said they were
hidden, he took out his garment of fringes, his prayer-books, his
phylacteries, and worshipped as of yore. Two vacancies occurring in
his business, he filled them up with Jews; Aaron also induced a few
Jews to settle there, and in a short time they could reckon upon ten
adults, the established number necessary for public worship. In the
rear of his house Aaron built a large room, which was used as a
synagogue, and there M. Levi's eldest son was confirmed. In the
autumn, when the Feast of Tabernacles was celebrated, the little band
of Jews found a booth erected in Aaron's garden; there was a roof of
vines through which they saw the light of heaven. It was beautified
with flowers, and numbers of persons came to see this pretty
remembrance of a time when the Children of Israel dwelt in tents in
the wilderness. The prayers in the synagogue over, the worshippers
assembled in the booth, and ate and drank with Aaron and his family.
Aaron had provided palms, citrons, myrtle, and willows for his
co-religionists, and in an address he gave in the course of the
service he told them how the citron was a symbol of innocent
childhood, the myrtle a symbol of youth and of the purity that dwells
on the brow of the bride and bridegroom, the firm and stately palm a
symbol of upright manhood, and the drooping willow a symbol of old
age. His discourses had always in them something new and attractive
which had a special bearing upon the ancient faith in which he took so
much pride.
"We have you to thank for our happiness," said Madame Levi to him.
"It is a good work done, my love," said Aaron to his wife, rubbing his
hands with satisfaction; "a good work done."