Amid these internal problems, the unspeakable immigrant was an added thorn.  Very often the victim of Continental persecution was assisted on to America, but the idea that he was hurtful to native labor rankled in the minds of Englishmen, and the Jewish leaders were anxious to remove it, all but proving him a boon.  In despair, it was sought to ’anglicize him by discourses in Yiddish.  With the Poor Alien question was connected the return to Palestine.  The Holy Land League still pinned its faith to Zion, and the Flag was with it to the extent of preferring the ancient father-land, as the scene of agricultural experiments, to the South American soils selected by other schemes.  It was generally felt that the redemption of Judaism lay largely in a return to the land, after several centuries of less primitive and more degrading occupations.  When South America was chosen, Strelitski was the first to counsel the League to co-operate in the experiment, on the principle that half a loaf is better than no bread.  But, for the orthodox the difficulties of regeneration by the spade were enhanced by the Sabbatical Year Institute of the Pentateuch, ordaining that land must lie fallow in the seventh year.  It happened that this septennial holiday was just going on, and the faithful Palestine farmers were starving in voluntary martyrdom.  The Flag raised a subscription for their benefit.  Raphael wished to head the list with twenty pounds, but on the advice of little Sampson he broke it up into a variety of small amounts, spread over several weeks, and attached to imaginary names and initials.  Seeing so many other readers contributing, few readers felt called upon to tax themselves.  The Flag received the ornate thanks of a pleiad of Palestine Rabbis for its contribution of twenty-five guineas, two of which were from Mr. Henry Goldsmith.  Gideon, the member for Whitechapel, remained callous to the sufferings of his brethren in the Holy Land.  In daily contact with so many diverse interests, Raphael’s mind widened as imperceptibly as the body grows.  He learned the manners of many men and committees—­admired the genuine goodness of some of the Jewish philanthropists and the fluent oratory of all; even while he realized the pettiness of their outlook and their reluctance to face facts.  They were timorous, with a dread of decisive action and definitive speech, suggesting the differential, deprecatory corporeal wrigglings of the mediaeval few.  They seemed to keep strict ward over the technical privileges of the different bodies they belonged to, and in their capacity of members of the Fiddle-de-dee to quarrel with themselves as members of the Fiddle-de-dum, and to pass votes of condolence or congratulation twice over as members of both.  But the more he saw of his race the more he marvelled at the omnipresent ability, being tempted at times to allow truth to the view that Judaism was a successful sociological experiment, the moral and physical training of a chosen race whose very dietary had been religiously regulated.