Jews -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Elias had been bred in the straitest sect of his religion; a rare thing
in this country in these days of radicalism and unbelief. From his
earliest boyhood down, his training, his associations, his family life,
nearly every influence that had borne upon him, had been of a nature to
make him intensely, if not zealously or aggressively, a Jew--to imbue
his mind thoroughly with the Jewish faith, and to color his character to
its innermost fibers with strong Jewish feelings. Besides, the blood
of generations of devout Jews coursed in his veins; it was tinctured
through and through with Jewish prejudice and superstition. He had never
been sent to school, lest in some wise his Judaism might be weakened by
contact with the Christians. His uncle, the rabbi, had taken sole
charge of his education. Pride of race had been an integral part of
the curriculum. “Never forget that you are a Jew, and remember that the
world has no honor to bestow upon you equal to the honor that attaches
to your birth. To be born in Israel is more illustrious than to be born
a prince; the blood of Israel outranks the blood royal; for the Lord
our God created the heavens and the earth, the birds and the beasts, the
flowers, the trees, the air, the sunlight, for the especial enjoyment of
His chosen and much-beloved people. But remember, too, that if the Lord
has vouchsafed to you this great and peculiar privilege, so He will
exact from you great and peculiar devotion. Though a Gentile--because
the Lord pays no heed to him--may commit certain sinful acts with
impunity, for you--upon whom the eye of the Lord rests perpetually--for
you to commit them, would entail immediate and awful punishment. Though
a Christian, for example--because he is of infinite smallness in the
sight of the Lord--may transact business on the Sabbath, if you--a
Jew--were to do so, the Lord would surely visit you with some frightful
calamity. You might be struck by lightning; you might be afflicted
with an incurable disease.” This was the sort of doctrine that had been
dinned into Elias Bacharach's ears from the time when he had first
begun the studies preparatory to becoming Bar-Mitzvah, and to assuming,
as the saying is, the Yoke of the Thorah. Heredity predisposed him to
accept it. The occasion had never arisen for him to doubt it, or even
to consider it in the light of his own intelligence. He had taken it
for granted, just as he had taken his geography and history for granted,
just as many wiser people than he, the world over, take their theology
for granted every day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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