AARON IS ASKED FOR A SUBSCRIPTION, AND RELATES
THE STORY OF A CONVERT.
The highest point in Aaron Cohen's prosperity was reached in 1893.
From the day of his return to England there had been no break in the
onward march of his fortunes; every enterprise he undertook
flourished, and the old saying was applied to him, "Everything he
touches turns to gold." A kind of superstition is associated with such
men; people regard them as under the spell of some beneficent
enchantment. Aaron's reputation, however, was not due solely to the
fact that he was uniformly fortunate in his ventures, but that he was
a just and charitable man. No appeal for assistance in any worthy
movement was made to him in vain; his purse was ever open, and he was
ever ready to respond. Among his co-religionists he was a power for
good, and his advice was sought by high and low. The poorest Jew, in a
time of difficulty, did not hesitate to go to him for counsel, and
only those held back whose conduct would not stand the searching light
he threw upon all matters submitted to him. By the oppressor he was
held in awe, by the oppressed he was worshipped. One of the former,
who had grown rich by usury, came to him for advice. Aaron listened in
silence, and spoke no word of counsel to assist him out of his
difficulty. "Reform your life," he said; "give back to the poor what
you have stolen from them; then come to me again."
He did not confine his labours and charities to the Jewish community;
his name was to be found among the administrators of all their
benevolent funds, and it was also to be found on the lists of
numberless Christian charities. In so generous a spirit did he meet
the appeals that were made to him, and so devoid of narrowness were
his benefactions, that he grew into the esteem of all classes of
society. Early in the year a public indignation meeting was held at
the Mansion House under the auspices of the Lord Mayor, to protest
against the barbarous treatment of the Jews in Russia. Church and
synagogue joined hands in the common cause of human brotherhood. It
was not a question of theology but of humanity, and Catholic Cardinal,
Protestant Bishop, and Jewish Chief Rabbi stood shoulder to shoulder
in the indignant protest. Aaron was requested to speak on the
occasion, and his words went forth to the world, and were quoted far
and wide. In the course of his speech he said: "We do not ask for
favour, we scarcely dare ask for justice, though it is to be hoped
that this will come by-and-by, when the eyes of the rulers of Russia
are open to the fact that in their oppression of the Jew they are not
only violating the laws of God and man, but are retarding their own
prosperity. We ask merely for toleration, for permission to follow the
faith in which we were born, to worship God according to our ancient
usage. The history of nations furnishes the proof that the Jew, fairly
treated, is a good citizen, that he is obedient to the law, and loyal
to the head of the State and in his support of lawful authority. In
his love of family life, in the orderly regulation of his household,
in the performance of his duty to wife and children, he is surely
entitled to rank with his Christian brother. He is, moreover,
industrious and enterprising, he excites emulation and stimulates the
commercial activity of his neighbour, by which the wealth of the
general community is increased. These are distinct virtues, private
and national, but Russian rulers seem to account them crimes. When a
tale of bodily slavery reaches a civilised country a thrill of horror
runs through the land, and it is not the least of the glorious records
of England that wherever the English-speaking race holds sway the
shackles of the slave are removed, and he hears the blessed words,
'You are free!' But in Russia they are not content to chain the body;
they hold man's soul in bondage. Not only do they say to the Jew,
'Your presence is a contamination; you shall not live in this or that
town or city; you shall not engage in such or such pursuits; you shall
wear badges of disgrace;' but they add, 'You shall not think; you
shall not pray.' Incredible are the instances of cruelty which are
brought before us: of families torn asunder; of the deliberate
wrecking of cherished hopes and worthy aspirations; of steady and
honourable lives brought to ruin; of shameful robbery and pillage, and
even of worse doings which I should blush to name. It is indeed time
that the voice of humanity should be forced upon the ears of the
oppressors who are making life horrible for millions of helpless human
beings; and we, the Jewish residents in this honoured land, render our
grateful homage to this distinguished assembly, and our sincere thanks
for its powerful assistance in the endeavour we are making to rescue
our brethren from misery and despair."
He was congratulated on all sides for these stirring words, which were
recognised and acknowledged as a fitting tribute to the Jewish
character. Some called it a vindication; he would not have it so. "We
need no vindication now in this happy land," he said. "We have proved
ourselves; the old prejudice is dying away."
When the speech was read to Rachel her eyes overflowed with tears of
joy. Aaron, coming in shortly afterwards, found her holding the
newspaper to her heart. She took his hand, and raised it to her lips.
"No, no," he said; "you humble me."
He folded her in his arms, where she lay, contented and happy.
As a matter of course he was sometimes beguiled into bestowing money
upon unworthy objects or persons, but it did not affect him. "Where
lives the man who does not make mistakes?" he said. "If there is one
deserving case in ten I am satisfied." In the wide scope of his
charities he had some curious experiences, and one of these, becoming
known, was the theme of much comment, both serious and humorous.
A gentleman called upon him and solicited a contribution to an
old-established society, the name of which he did not mention. He
contented himself with saying that it was known all the world over,
and that its objects were universally approved of.
"You do not, I suppose," said Aaron, "expect me to give in the dark.
Favour me with the name of the society."
"You have doubtless heard of it," replied the gentleman. "It is the
Society for the Promotion of Christianity amongst the Jews."
Aaron smiled as he said, "Yes, I have heard of it. But, my dear sir, I
am myself a Jew."
"I am aware of it," said the gentleman, "and the reason I make the
appeal is that you have been described to me as a man who has no
narrow prejudices, and who is in no sense dogmatic or bigoted."
"It is, then, a compliment you are paying me when you ask me to
contribute to a fund which is antagonistic to my race."
"In your view antagonistic," observed the gentleman. "There are
generally two sides to a question."
"I see. Meaning that my view is not necessarily the correct view."
The gentleman nodded courteously. He was not a collector for the
society, nor a paid officer, but a man of means who was also noted for
his benevolence.
"I have myself occasionally," he remarked, "given a donation to an
object with which I was not in entire sympathy."
"When you decided to pay me a visit had you any hope of converting
me?"
"Your conversion would give our society an immense impetus, but I had
no hope of it. But there are men whose views are not so firmly fixed
as your own, and I thought you would not object to assist them in the
praiseworthy task of examining their consciences."
"Through a lens made of gold. In other words, giving them mercenary
assistance to a spiritual conclusion."
"It is an original way of putting it," said the gentleman, greatly
interested in the turn the conversation was taking.
"I cannot but consider the matter seriously," said Aaron,
thoughtfully, "for there can be no doubt of your sincerity. Still, it
occurs to me that if we were both equally sincere in our advocacy of
objects of a similar nature, it would be as well that we should pause
and ask ourselves this question. Instead of endeavouring to convert
Jews or Christians to a faith in which they were not born, would it
not be better to employ ourselves in the effort to make those who call
themselves Christians true Christians, and those who call themselves
Jews true Jews?"
"There is force in your argument, but it is no answer to my appeal for
a contribution to the objects of my society."
"You can probably," Aaron then said, "furnish me with particulars of
the working of your society."
"Anticipating your request I have brought the papers with me."
Aaron looked through the printed books and papers handed to him, and
made certain calculations.
"I perceive," he said, "that you take credit to yourselves for making
a stated number of conversions during the past five years, and that
you have spent a stated sum of money during that period. The number of
conversions is very small, the amount of money expended very large. I
have worked out the sum, and according to my figures each convert has
cost you nearly eleven thousand pounds. You find these wavering Jews
very expensive."
"Very expensive," assented the gentleman, with a half humorous sigh.
"I cannot say I sympathise with you, but I will make a proposition to
you. You are zealous in the furtherance of an object which you believe
to be worthy, and I am zealous in the furtherance of an object which I
know to be worthy. I will give you a cheque as a donation to your
object if you will give me a cheque for half the amount as a donation
to mine. Do not be afraid; it is not for the promotion of Judaism
among the Christians."
The gentleman, who was rich and liberal-minded, laughed
good-humouredly as he said, "I consent, on the further understanding
that your cheque is for a reasonable amount."
"Will this do?" asked Aaron, filling in a cheque for one hundred
pounds.
The gentleman made a wry face, but, without remark, he wrote a cheque
for fifty pounds, and they exchanged documents.
"My contribution," said Aaron, "represents the one hundred and tenth
part of a convert--the one hundred and tenth part of one transitory
and, in all probability, worldly and insincere conversion. Your
contribution represents a sick bed for two years in a hospital for
poor children. During those two years you will be engaged in
converting the one hundred and tenth part of an apostate Jew, and my
hospital beds will be occupied by two poor Christian children, who, by
God's mercy, will, I trust, be restored to health. You will pardon me
for saying that I think I have the best of the transaction."
"You are a singular man," said the gentleman, "and I will not dispute
with you. But I should like a few words with you upon what you say as
to our converts being worldly and insincere. Is that really your
opinion?"
"It is something more than an opinion. It is a conviction."
"Based upon some kind of proof, I presume?"
"Based upon proof and observation. Once a Jew, always a Jew, whether
he follows the Mosaic laws or disregards them. So powerful is the seed
of Judaism that it can never be entirely destroyed in the heart of one
born in the ancient faith. We who are Jews know this to be
incontrovertible; you who are Christians may not be able to understand
it. So much for observation; now for the proof. I observe on your list
of converts the name of Borlinski."
"You know the name?" the gentleman interrupted, eagerly.
"It is very familiar to me," replied Aaron.
"There are two Borlinskis on the list," said the gentleman. "Josef and
Izak."
"I am acquainted with them both."
"We are very proud of the Borlinskis," said the gentleman, speaking
with enthusiasm, "as the most important converts on our books. They
are under engagement with us."
"On a salary?"
"Yes, an insignificant salary; twenty-five shillings a week each."
"Employed by you to make other converts."
"Yes."
"Have they been successful?"
"They have been with us for a few months only," said the gentleman.
"These things take time."
"Truly, they take time--and money. Would you mind relating to me how
the Borlinskis became associated with your society?"
"Not at all. It was a matter of conscience, purely a matter of
conscience. That is why we are so proud of them. Josef Borlinski came
first. He presented himself at our office; he had doubts; he had had
doubts since childhood. In his country--Poland--no such society as
ours exists, where a man can obtain monition and teaching to confirm
or dispel those doubts. There are in that country converted Jews, but
the conversion is sudden and effected by a kind of terrorism. Josef
Borlinski is a reasonable being, and wished to be convinced through
his reason. We cheerfully took up the task of convincing him of the
error of his ways; we argued with him, we gave him books, he attended
our meetings, we expounded the Gospel to him. At length he was
satisfied, and became a zealous and happy convert to Christianity."
"How many months or years did it take to convince Josef Borlinski of
his error?" asked Aaron.
"Nearly two years."
"During which time you supported him."
"We could do no less. He was desperately poor, almost starving when he
came to us. Then, he was a foreigner, and the only trade--if it can be
called one--to which he could turn his hand was that of an itinerant
glazier, at which he could not earn more than three or four shillings
a week, sometimes not so much. In any circumstances, it would have
been a dangerous occupation for him to follow; he would have had to be
out the whole of the day exposed to the weather, and the poor fellow
is consumptive."
"So that you first adopted, and then converted him. How did you get
hold of Izak Borlinski?"
"He is Josef's cousin, and Josef brought him to us."
"Zealous Josef! Izak also had doubts, and wished to be convinced
through his reason?"
"That is so."
"And you adopted and converted him as well as Josef?"
"Yes."
"Clever Josef! Poor, consumptive Josef! It would not surprise me if he
presently introduces another of his countrymen to you who has had
doubts since childhood, and wishes to be convinced--through his reason
and your pocket. Him, also, you can adopt and convert. Ah, what a loss
to the stage is Josef Borlinski! Only that he lacks industry, for in
him are united a fox's cunning and a sloth's love of idleness. The
rogue! He imposed upon me for months, until at length, my suspicions
aroused, I unmasked the rascal."
"Do you mean to say that we have been imposed upon?" asked the
gentleman, in an excited tone.
"Judge for yourself. Six years ago Josef Borlinski came to this
country, and lived for some time upon charity. I am on the committees
of several of our benevolent institutions, and at every meeting I
attended, the name of Josef Borlinski cropped up. It was always Josef
Borlinski, Josef Borlinski, destitute and starving. The continual
recurrence of the name irritated me, and I went to see this Josef
Borlinski, destitute and starving. I found him down Whitechapel way
playing draughts with his cousin, Izak. I saw before me a young man
with black eyes, black hair, and a general appearance of belonging to
the lymphatic order of being. I questioned him. How long had he been
in England? Eighteen months. Why had he lived upon charity all that
time? He was unfortunate; he could not obtain work. Was he willing to
work? Oh yes, yes, yes, several times repeated, his little cunning
eyes watching me as we conversed. Was he married? No. Had he a trade?
Unfortunately no, he had no trade. Then, what could he do, what did he
feel himself fitted for? Anything, everything. He is a man of
professions this Josef Borlinski, glib of tongue, quick at response,
supple as a reed, slippery as an eel. I reflected. He spoke English
fairly well; he looked strong and healthy, not a symptom of
consumption visible. How much a week could he, a single man, live
upon? Upon anything, nothing--a few shillings, a few pence. Thus spoke
Josef Borlinski, humbly and smoothly, interlarding his speech with
Hebrew exclamations and pious adjurations. I offered him a situation
at twenty shillings a week, to be increased if he gave satisfaction,
which required no special knowledge of a trade, and in which he would
have to work five days out of the seven. Boundless were his
professions of gratitude. I was his benefactor; he would bless me all
his life. He commenced work on the following Monday, and on the
Tuesday he presented himself to me, with his coat rent, and black
cloth round his hat. He had received a letter from Poland; his father
was dead; a week of mourning was incumbent upon him; could he be
spared to fulfil this religious obligation? Grief was in his
countenance, tears in his eyes, his voice trembled. I sympathised with
him; he could have his week's mourning. But he was destitute; he was
starving; how was he to support himself during this week of enforced
idleness? I gave him something more than a week's wages, and he
departed, blessing me. His week of mourning over, it was reported to
me that he had not returned to work. I sought him out, and found him
playing draughts with his cousin Izak. He made a thousand excuses; he
was ill; he was overwhelmed with sorrow at the loss he had sustained;
he did not understand English customs; he did not think it was lawful
to resume work in the middle of the week; moreover, he was in rags. He
obtained money from me for a new suit of clothes, and a further
extension of leave till the end of the week. On the Monday he duly
presented himself, and in the afternoon fell down in a swoon, and had
to be conveyed home in a cab, where he remained for three weeks,
supported, as usual, by charity. My wife sent him wine and jelly, and
the rascal was in clover. I visited him, and found him playing
draughts with his cousin Izak. 'The game requires no exertion,' he
said languidly; 'it is my only amusement; it diverts my mind from the
sorrow by which I am oppressed.' I thought it extremely curious. The
effects of his swoon having passed away, he commenced work again, and
on the second day I received a letter from him. He had been compelled,
he wrote, to take to his bed; he had spasms; he was doubled up with
pain; he hoped to be better soon; meanwhile, could I send him a few
shillings for medicine and food? He obtained what he asked for, and I
called to see how he was progressing. I found him playing draughts
with his cousin Izak. I was now thoroughly interested in Josef
Borlinski. Such a chapter of accidents--such a plausible speaker and
writer--so regularly unfortunate when he went to work, and so fond of
playing draughts with his cousin Izak. I He was weeks getting rid of
his spasms, but at length he recommenced work. Would you believe it?
On the evening of the first day I found him waiting for me in this
house. His left hand was in bandages, and the linen was besmeared with
blood. In Heaven's name what had happened? He told me a lugubrious
tale of having cut three of his fingers to the bone. The accident
happening in my service made me responsible, and I felt myself bound
to support him, especially as I discovered that he had related his
woes to my wife, who was filled with pity for the rascal. 'You will
look after the poor man,' she said to me; 'I promised him that you
would.' 'I will look after him,' I replied. I did, and at every visit
I paid him I found him playing draughts with his cousin Izak. He was,
however, so long getting well this time, that I sent my own doctor to
him. I also employed an agent to make inquiries into the history of
the Borlinskis. My doctor reported that it was with great difficulty
he had succeeded in obtaining a sight of Josefs wounded fingers. He
had him held fast while he took off the bandages, and then he
discovered that the fingers were without a scar, no wound of any kind
had been received. My agent reported that the Borlinskis were well
known in the village in Poland from which they had emigrated. They had
lived the lives of idle scamps there, and had never been known to do
one day's honest work. They preferred to hang about the drinking
shops, to beg, to pilfer on the sly, to impose on charitable
strangers, to do anything but work. As liars they were pre-eminent.
Josef lost his father fourteen years before he came to England,
therefore his statement that he had just received a letter from Poland
informing him of his father's death was an invention, a trick. His
swoon was a trick; his spasms a trick; his cutting his fingers to the
bone a trick. From the hairs of his head to the soles of his feet he
is a knave and a trickster; through his blood runs the incorrigible
vice of indolence, and rather than work he will resort to any
subterfuge. Only on one day in the whole year does his conscience
disturb him, on the day of the White Fast. To-day a Jew, to-morrow a
Christian, the next day a Mohammedan, the next a Pagan--it matters not
to him so long as he can make money out of it, and eat the bread of
idleness. My dear sir, I wish you joy of your Borlinskis."
The gentleman rose to take his leave, his belief in the genuineness of
the conversion of the Borlinskis visibly shaken. He put but one
question to Aaron Cohen.
"Josef Borlinski being what you describe him to be, what becomes of
your assertion, 'Once a Jew, always a Jew'?"
"I have spoken of the White Fast," replied Aaron, "as the only day
upon which Josef's conscience is awake. He believes, as we all do, in
a future state, in the immortality of the soul. The White Fast is the
great Day of Atonement, when Jews pray to be forgiven the sins they
have committed during the past year. The most ignorant of them believe
that if they pray and fast on the Day of Atonement their
transgressions are atoned for. We have our black sheep, as you have;
but the blackest of them observes this day with superstitious fear,
and Josef Borlinski is not an exception. This year, on the Day of
Atonement, I myself saw Josef in synagogue, enveloped in the white
shroud he brought from Poland, beating his breast, and praying for
forgiveness for his sins. From sunset to sunset food did not pass his
lips; from sunset to sunset he prayed, and grovelled, and trembled.
Come to our synagogue next year, and you shall see him there, if
before that time he is not called to his account. Though he be
converted to twenty different religions, and baptized twenty times
over, Josef Borlinski is a Jew, and will remain a Jew to the last hour
of his life."