Great Lion of God by Taylor Caldwell Read Free Book Online

Hillel felt some naughty satisfaction. He did not know which was the more offensive, the effeminate delicacy of David ben Shebua or the grim hypocrisy of Reb Isaac, but it pleased him that both were being punished even while he deplored his own human malevolence.
    It was the conviction of Reb Isaac that Hillel ben Borush while an estimable Jew of considerable piety and faith, and a Pharisee, had not that dedication to the Book desirable in one of his birth and education in the Scriptures, and therefore not entirely without worldliness and triviality. He suspected Hillel of some timidity in this modern society of materialism and brute force and atheism and cynical expediency and the disregard of the individual, not to mention the lascivious and unspeakable Roman conquerors of the world who were at once mighty and barbaric, and the corrupt Greek and his hedonist philosophies, who had—no doubt to the wrath of the Creator, blessed be His Name—invaded the very heart of Holy Israel with his mores and his manners. He thought Hillel one of those gentle souls who preferred peace to controversy, and complaisance to struggle.
    On the other hand, David ben Shebua was convinced that Hillel was, in spite of his amiability and wit and kindness, a harsh Pharisee at heart, ready to denounce and direct the stoning of any heretic, with the sure knowledge that he had the approval of his God.
    David was no more correct in his assumptions concerning Hillel than was Reb Isaac.
    Once he had said to his sister after one of these deplorable dinners, “Why is it that my esteemed brother-in-law invariably invites that miasmic old rabbi to my first dinner in his house?”
    Deborah, who was always more vexed than pleased with her husband, said, not out of any intellectual perception but out of deep female intuitiveness and petulance, “It is to annoy you both.”
    As David tried to converse tonight in a civilized fashion with Reb Isaac it was like tossing pretty feathers against a battering ram. Reb Isaac despised him. David continued to converse, and watched Hillel out of the corner of his eye. Hillel was enjoying himself, as he lightly partook of the atrocious dinner.
    Aristo with his pupil, Saul, at the foot of the table, was addressed by no other one, not even the disdainful slaves, for he was only a freedman, but he thought himself the superior of any at the table, for he was an Athenian and brilliantly educated. His clever black eyes, small and restless as beetles, moved from one face to another, and he listened, and he smiled in himself. Only he believed that Hillel ben Borush was the only intellectual man present, and he had the greatest respect for his master, and a sort of humorous love. In two years he would be free, Hillel had told him, according to the Jewish law which demanded that a slave be loosed after seven years of servitude. Aristo had considered this with disquiet, and had consulted with Hillel. “I am free, Master,” he said, “in two years. Where, thence, shall I go?”
    Hillel had reflected, with sympathy. A freed slave was open to all the vicissitudes of the free. It was evil enough to be born a freeman and to face all the wicked contingencies of life, responsible for one’s actions to God and man, responsible even for one’s thoughts. (But then, did that not make man almost equal to the angels?) How much worse it was to have been sheltered and fed all one’s life, accountable to no other but to one master, and then to be thrown out into the icy regions where one was accountable to all! So Hillel had said, You were purchased for my son, and according to the Law you must be free in two more years. But, will you desert us? Are you not needful, in this world of multiple peoples and philosophies, to continue to teach my son when he is of an age? Therefore, before the time is ended, we will visit the praetor together, and you shall be free as soon as possible, and henceforth you will receive a monthly payment on which we