Sidney, whose conversation always had the air of aloofness from the race, so that his own foibles often came under the lash of his sarcasm, proceeded to justify his assertion of the rose-color picture in Mordecai Josephs.  He denied that modern English Jews had any religion whatever; claiming that their faith consisted of forms that had to be kept up in public, but which they were too shrewd and cute to believe in or to practise in private, though every one might believe every one else did; that they looked upon due payment of their synagogue bills as discharging all their obligations to Heaven; that the preachers secretly despised the old formulas, and that the Rabbinate declared its intention of dying for Judaism only as a way of living by it; that the body politic was dead and rotten with hypocrisy, though the augurs said it was alive and well.  He admitted that the same was true of Christianity.  Raphael reminded him that a number of Jews had drifted quite openly from the traditional teaching, that thousands of well-ordered households found inspiration and spiritual satisfaction in every form of it, and that hypocrisy was too crude a word for the complex motives of those who obeyed it without inner conviction.

“For instance,” said he, “a gentleman said to me the other day—­I was much touched by the expression—­’I believe with my father’s heart.’”

“It is a good epigram,” said Sidney, impressed.  “But what is to be said of a rich community which recruits its clergy from the lower classes?  The method of election by competitive performance, common as it is among poor Dissenters, emphasizes the subjection of the shepherd to his flock.  You catch your ministers young, when they are saturated with suppressed scepticism, and bribe them with small salaries that seem affluence to the sons of poor immigrants.  That the ministry is not an honorable profession may be seen from the anxiety of the minister to raise his children in the social scale by bringing them up to some other line of business.”

“That is true,” said Raphael, gravely.  “Our wealthy families must be induced to devote a son each to the Synagogue.”

“I wish they would,” said Sidney.  “At present, every second man is a lawyer.  We ought to have more officers and doctors, too.  I like those old Jews who smote the Philistines hip and thigh; it is not good for a race to run all to brain:  I suppose, though, we had to develop cunning to survive at all.  There was an enlightened minister whose Friday evenings I used to go to when a youth—­delightful talk we had there, too; you know whom I mean.  Well, one of his sons is a solicitor, and the other a stockbroker.  The rich men he preached to helped to place his sons.  He was a charming man, but imagine him preaching to them the truths in Mordecai Josephs, as Mr. Saville suggested.”

“Our minister lets us have it hot enough, though,” said Mr. Henry Goldsmith with a guffaw.