“Of course, of course, that I understand.  You’re right—­people about here say Guedalyah the greengrocer is always right.  I will come beforehand to supper with you to talk it over, and you shall see what I will write for the Mizpeh and the Arbeiter-freund.  You know all these papers jump at me—­their readers are the class to which you appeal—­in them will I write my burning verses and leaders advocating the cause.  I shall be your Tyrtaeus, your Mazzini, your Napoleon.  How blessed that I came to England just now.  I have lived in the Holy Land—­the genius of the soil is blent with mine.  I can describe its beauties as none other can.  I am the very man at the very hour.  And yet I will not go rashly—­slow and sure—­my plan is to collect small amounts from the poor to start by sending one family at a time to Palestine.  That is how we must do it.  How does that strike you, Guedalyah.  You agree?”

“Yes, yes.  That is also my opinion.”

“You see I am not a Napoleon only in great ideas.  I understand detail, though as a poet I abhor it.  Ah, the Jew is king of the world.  He alone conceives great ideas and executes them by petty means.  The heathen are so stupid, so stupid!  Yes, you shall see at supper how practically I will draw up the scheme.  And then I will show you, too, what I have written about Gideon, M.P., the dog of a stockbroker—­a satirical poem have I written about him, in Hebrew—­an acrostic, with his name for the mockery of posterity.  Stocks and shares have I translated into Hebrew, with new words which will at once be accepted by the Hebraists of the world and added to the vocabulary of modern Hebrew.  Oh!  I am terrible in satire.  I sting like the hornet; witty as Immanuel, but mordant as his friend Dante.  It will appear in the Mizpeh to-morrow.  I will show this Anglo-Jewish community that I am a man to be reckoned with.  I will crush it—­not it me.”

“But they don’t see the Mizpeh and couldn’t read it if they did.”

“No matter.  I send it abroad—­I have friends, great Rabbis, great scholars, everywhere, who send me their learned manuscripts, their commentaries, their ideas, for revision and improvement.  Let the Anglo-Jewish community hug itself in its stupid prosperity—­but I will make it the laughing-stock of Europe and Asia.  Then some day it will find out its mistake; it will not have ministers like the Rev. Elkan Benjamin, who keeps four mistresses, it will depose the lump of flesh who reigns over it and it will seize the hem of my coat and beseech me to be its Rabbi.”

“We should have a more orthodox Chief Rabbi, certainly,” admitted Guedalyah.