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It reproduces the conflicts set afoot by the rivalry between Jerusalem and Samaria. The underlying idea in this novel is not unlike that of "The Love of Zion". But the author allows himself to run riot in the use of antitheses and contrasts. He arraigns the poor inhabitants of Samaria with pitiless severity.
HOPE. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers; remember what it hath cost us once already for our hearkening to such kind of fellows. What! no Mount Zion? Did we not see, from the Delectable Mountains, the gate of the city? Also, are we not now to walk by faith?
This had been their longing expectation this the goal of their wearisome journey; they had oft doubted whether their eyes would ever behold it and now It lay in all its wondrous beauty beautiful even then before them; but, the banners of the false prophet floated upon the Hill of Zion.
Yes, it was beginning to move, indeed, it was almost beginning to hum another few months and it would fairly whizz, as Eli Moggridge had foreseen; and the sound of the humming and the speed of the whizzing would grow louder and louder and faster and faster, till not merely Zion Place and Zion Alley and Zion Passage and Zion Street heard it and were caught up in the infectious dance, but the very High Street itself should hum and whizz.
And, as I think these things, his face is transfigured and he becomes beneath all his dazzle of deed a Dreamer of the Ghetto. So think I. But what as the country parson's sermon drones on thinks the Sphinx? Who shall tell? "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down; yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion." By the river of Bâle we sit down, resolved to weep no more.
After twice reading, I felt sure that I had made out correctly the following address: Miss Giles, 2 Zion Place, Crickgelly, N. Wales. It was hard under the circumstances, to form an opinion as to the handwriting; but I thought I could recognize the character of some of the doctor's letters, even in the blotted impression of them. Supposing I was right, who was Miss Giles?
Ho! Princes of Jacob! the strength and the stay Of the daughters of Zion; now up, and away; Lo, the hunters have struck her, and bleeding alone Like a pard in the desert she maketh her moan: Up with war-horse and banner, with spear and with sword, On the spoiler go down in the might of the Lord! Lunt.
Yu're goin' to travel on to Zion 'long with me. I 'laow I'm man enough to look out for ye an' I got plenty room. The hull wagon's yourn. Guess thar won't nobody have anything to say ag'in that." His tone was pointed, unmistakable, and I sat fuming with it. My Lady drily acknowledged. "You are very kind, Daniel." "Wall, yu see I'm the best man on the draw in this hyar train. I'm a bad one, I am.
For I have heard a voice as of a woman in travail, and the anguish as of her that bringeth forth her first child, the voice of the daughter of Zion, that bewaileth herself, that spreadeth her hands, saying, Woe is me now! for my soul is wearied because of murderers.
A century after Rousseau, there was still a corner in Europe in which pleasure, the joy of living, the good things of this life, and nature, were considered futilities, in which love was condemned as a crime, and the passions as the ruin of the soul. Such were the surroundings amid which "The Love of Zion", a Jewish Nouvelle Heloise, appeared as the first plea for nature and love.
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