Studies in Judaism

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by Solomon Schechter
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Title: Studies in Judaism, First Series
Author: Solomon Schechter
Release Date: May 6, 2015 [Ebook 48890]
Language: English
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

STUDIES IN JUDAISM, FIRST SERIES***
Studies in Judaism
First Series
by
Solomon Schechter, M.A., Litt.D.
Philadelphia
The Jewish Publication Society of America
1911
Contents
Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
I. The Chassidim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
II. Nachman Krochmal and the “Perplexities Of The Time” 55
III. Rabbi Elijah Wilna, Gaon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
IV. Nachmanides . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
V. A Jewish Boswell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
VI. The Dogmas Of Judaism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
VII. The History of Jewish Tradition . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
VIII. The Doctrine of Divine Retribution in Rabbinical
Literature . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 208
IX. The Law And Recent Criticism . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226
X. The Hebrew Collection of the British Museum . . . . . 243
XI. Titles of Jewish Books . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
XII. The Child in Jewish Literature . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270
XIII. Woman in Temple and Synagogue . . . . . . . . . . 297
XIV. The Earliest Jewish Community in Europe . . . . . . 308
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
Footnotes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341
[Transcriber's Note: The above cover image was produced by
the submitter at Distributed Proofreaders, and is being placed
into the public domain.]
[v]
TO
THE EVER-CHERISHED MEMORY
OF
THE LATE DR. P. F. FRANKL, RABBI IN BERLIN
THESE STUDIES ARE REVERENTLY
DEDICATED
[vii]
Preface
These studies appeared originally in their first form in The Jewish
Quarterly and The Jewish Chronicle. To the Editors of these
periodicals my best thanks are due for their readiness in plac-
ing the articles at my disposal for the purposes of the present
volume. The Introductory Essay is new. I desire to express my
sincere gratitude to Mr. J. G. Frazer, Fellow of Trinity College,
Cambridge, and Dr. J. Sutherland Black, of London, for their
great kindness in revising the proofs, and for many a valuable
suggestion. To Mr. Claude G. Montefiore I am indebted for the
English version of the Essay on “Chassidim”—my first literary
effort in this country, written at his own suggestion.
In the transliteration of Hebrew names, I have given the
familiar English forms of the authorised version. As regards
post-Biblical names, I have with few exceptions followed Zed-
ner's Catalogue of the Hebrew Books in the Library of the British
Museum. A Hebrew word will be found here and there in the text;
I have purposely avoided bewildering devices for representing
the actual sound of the word, contenting myself with the ordinary
[viii] Roman alphabet, in spite of its shortcomings.
The authorities used for the various Essays will be found indi-
cated in the Notes at the end of the volume, where the reader will
also find short biographical and bibliographical notices, together
with brief explanations of technical terms for which no exact
equivalent exists in English. The index will, it is hoped, facilitate
reference.
S. S.
CAMBRIDGE, February 1896.
[xi]
Introduction
The essays published in this volume under the title of Studies
in Judaism have been written on various occasions and at long
intervals. There is thus no necessary connection between them.
If some sort of unity may be detected in the book, it can only
be between the first three essays—on the Chassidim, Krochmal,
and the Gaon—in which there is a certain unity of purpose. The
purpose in view was, as may easily be gathered from the essays
themselves, to bring under the notice of the English public a type
of men produced by the Synagogue of the Eastern Jews. That
Synagogue is widely different from ours. Its places of worship
have no claims to “beauty of holiness,” being in their outward
appearance rather bare and bald, if not repulsive; whilst those
who frequent them are a noisy, excitable people, who actually
dance on the “Season of Rejoicing” and cry bitterly on the “Days
of Mourning.” But among all these vagaries—or perhaps because
of them—this Synagogue has had its moments of grace, when
enthusiasm wedded to inspiration gave birth to such beautiful
souls as Baalshem, such fine sceptics as Krochmal, and such
saintly scholars as Elijah Wilna. The Synagogue of the West is
certainly of a more presentable character, and free from excesses;
though it is not devoid of an enthusiasm of its own which finds [xii]
its outlet in an ardent and self-sacrificing philanthropic activity.
But owing to its practical tendency there is too little room in
it for that play of intellectual forces which finds its extravagant
expression in the saint on the one hand, and the learned heretic
on the other.
Eight of these essays are more or less of a theological nature.
But in reading the proofs I have been struck by the fact that there
is assumed in them a certain conception of the Synagogue which,
4 Studies in Judaism, First Series
familiar though it be to the Jewish student, may appear obscure

and even strange to the general English reader. For brevity's sake
I will call it the High Synagogue, though it does not correspond
in all details to what one is accustomed to understand under the
term of High Church. The High Synagogue has a history which
is not altogether without its points of interest.
Some years ago when the waves of the Higher Criticism of
the Old Testament reached the shores of this country, and such
questions as the heterogeneous composition of the Pentateuch,
the comparatively late date of the Levitical Legislation, and the
post-exilic origin of certain Prophecies as well as of the Psalms
began to be freely discussed by the press and even in the pulpit,
the invidious remark was often made: What will now become of
Judaism when its last stronghold, the Law, is being shaken to its
very foundations?
Such a remark shows a very superficial acquaintance with the
nature of an old historical religion like Judaism, and the richness
of the resources it has to fall back upon in cases of emergency.
As a fact, the emergency did not quite surprise Judaism. The
[xiii] alarm signal was given some 150 years ago by an Italian Rabbi,
Abiad Sar Shalom Bazilai, in his pamphlet The Faith of the Sages.
The pamphlet is, as the title indicates, of a polemical character,
reviewing the work of the Jewish rationalistic schools; and after
warming up in his attacks against their heterodox views, Bazilai
exclaims: “Nature and simple meaning, they are our misfortune.”
By “nature and simple meaning” Bazilai, who wrote in Hebrew,
understood what we would call Natural Science and Philology.
With the right instinct of faith, Bazilai hit on the real sore points.
For though he mostly argues against the philosophical systems of
Aristotle and his commentators, he felt that it is not speculation
that will ever seriously endanger religion. There is hardly any
metaphysical system, old or new, which has not in course of time
been adapted by able dialecticians to the creed which they hap-
pened to hold. In our own time we have seen the glorious, though
Introduction 5
not entirely novel spectacle, of Agnosticism itself becoming the

rightful handmaid of Queen Theology. The real danger lies in
“nature” (or Natural Science) with its stern demand of law and
regularity in all phenomena, and in the “simple meaning” (or
Philology) with its inconsiderate insistence on truth. Of the two,
the “simple meaning” is the more objectionable. Not only is it
very often at variance with Tradition, which has its own code
of interpretation, but it is constantly increasing the difficulties
raised by science. For if words could only have more than one
meaning, there would be no objection to reading the first words
of Genesis, “In a beginning God evolved.” The difficulties of
science would then be disposed of easily enough. Maimonides,
who was as bold an interpreter as he was a deep metaphysician,
hinted plainly enough that were he as convinced of the eternity [xiv]
of matter as he was satisfied of the impossibility of any corporeal
quality in the deity, he would feel as little compunction in ex-
plaining (figuratively) the contents of the first chapter of Genesis
as he did in allegorising the anthropomorphic passages of the
Bible. Thus in the end all the difficulties resolve themselves
into the one great difficulty of the “simple meaning.” The best
way to meet this difficulty was found to be to shift the centre of
gravity in Judaism and to place it in the secondary meaning, thus
making religion independent of philology and all its dangerous
consequences.
This shifting work was chiefly done, perhaps not quite con-
sciously, by the historical school which followed upon that of
Mendelssohn and his first successors. The historical school,
which is still in the ascendant, comprises many of the best
Jewish writers who either by their learning or by their ecclesi-
astical profession as Rabbis and preachers in great communities
have acquired some important position among their brethren.
The men who have inaugurated this movement were Krochmal
(1785-1841), Rapoport (1790-1867), and Zunz (1794-1886).
It is not a mere coincidence that the first representatives of the
historical school were also the first Jewish scholars who proved
themselves more or less ready to join the modern school of Bible
Criticism, and even to contribute their share to it. The first
two, Krochmal and Rapoport, early in the second quarter of this
century accepted and defended the modern view about a second
Isaiah, the post-exilic origin of many Psalms, and the late date of
Ecclesiastes; whilst Zunz, who began (in 1832) with denying the
authenticity of Ezekiel, concluded his literary career (1873) with
[xv] a study on the Bible (Gesammelte Schriften, i. pp. 217-290), in
which he expressed his view “that the Book of Leviticus dates
from a later period than the Book of Deuteronomy, later even
than Ezekiel, having been composed during the age of the Second
Temple, when there already existed a well-established priesthood
which superintended the sacrificial worship.” But when Revela-
tion or the Written Word is reduced to the level of history, there
is no difficulty in elevating history in its aspect of Tradition to the
rank of Scripture, for both have then the same human or divine
origin (according to the student's predilection for the one or the
other adjective), and emanate from the same authority. Tradition
becomes thus the means whereby the modern divine seeks to
compensate himself for the loss of the Bible, and the theological
balance is to the satisfaction of all parties happily readjusted.
Jewish Tradition, or, as it is commonly called, the Oral Law,
or, as we may term it (in consideration of its claims to represent
an interpretation of the Bible), the Secondary Meaning of the
Scriptures, is mainly embodied in the works of the Rabbis and
their subsequent followers during the Middle Ages. Hence the
zeal and energy with which the historical school applied itself to
the Jewish post-biblical literature, not only elucidating its texts by
means of new critical editions, dictionaries, and commentaries,
but also trying to trace its origins and to pursue its history through
its gradual development. To the work of Krochmal in this direc-
tion a special essay is devoted in this volume. The labours of
Rapoport are more of a biographical and bibliographical nature,
Introduction 7
being occupied mostly with the minor details in the lives and
writings of various famous Jewish Rabbis in the Middle Ages;
thus they offer but little opportunity for general theological com- [xvi]
ment. Of more importance in this respect are the hints thrown
out in his various works by Zunz, who was just as emphatic in
asserting the claims of Tradition as he was advanced in his views
on Bible criticism. Zunz's greatest work is Die Gottesdienstlichen
Vorträge—an awkward title, which in fact means “The History
of the Interpretation of the Scriptures as forming a part of the
divine service.” Now if a work displaying such wide learning
and critical acumen, and written in such an impartial spirit can be
said to have a bias, it was towards bridging over the seemingly
wide gap between the Written Word (the Scriptures) and the
Spoken Word (the Oral Law or Tradition), which was the more
deeply felt, as most of Zunz's older contemporaries were men,
grown up in the habits of thought of the eighteenth century—a
century distinguished both for its ignorance of, and its power of
ignoring, the teachings of history. Indeed it would seem that ages
employed in making history have no time for studying it.
Zunz accomplished the task he set himself, by showing, as
already indicated, the late date of certain portions of the Bible,
which by setting the early history of Israel in an ideal light
betray the moralising tendency of their authors, and are, in fact,
little more than a traditional interpretation of older portions of
Scripture, adapted to the religious needs of the time. Placing thus
the origin of Tradition in the Bible itself, it was a comparatively
easy matter for Zunz to prove its further continuity. Prophecy
and Interpretation are with him the natural expressions of the
religious life of the nation; and though by the loss of Israel's
political independence the voice of the prophets gradually died [xvii]
away, the voice of God was still heard. Israel continues to consult
God through the medium of the Scriptures, and He answers His
people by the mouth of the Scribes, the Sages, the Interpreters
of the Law; whilst the liturgy of the Synagogue, springing up
at the time when Psalms were still being composed, expands in

its later stages through the work of the Poets of the Synagogue
into such a rich luxuriance “that it forms in itself a treasure of
history, poetry, philosophy; and prophecy and psalms are again
revived in the hymnology of the Middle Ages.” This is in brief
the lesson to be learned from Zunz's Gottesdienstliche Vorträge
as far as it deals with the significance of Tradition; and it is
in the introduction to this work that Zunz expresses himself to
the following effect: Indispensable is the free Spoken Word.
Mankind has acquired all its ideal treasures only by Word of
Mouth; an education continuing through all stages of life. In
Israel, too, the Word of Instruction transmitted from mouth to
mouth was never silenced.
The historical school has never, to my knowledge, offered to
the world a theological programme of its own. By the nature of
its task, its labours are mostly conducted in the field of philology
and archæology, and it pays but little attention to purely dogmatic
questions. On the whole, its attitude towards religion may be
defined as an enlightened Scepticism combined with a staunch
conservatism which is not even wholly devoid of a certain mysti-
cal touch. As far as we may gather from vague remarks and hints
thrown out now and then, its theological position may perhaps
be thus defined:—It is not the mere revealed Bible that is of
first importance to the Jew, but the Bible as it repeats itself in
[xviii] history, in other words, as it is interpreted by Tradition. The
Talmud, that wonderful mine of religious ideas from which it
would be just as easy to draw up a manual for the most orthodox
as to extract a vade-mecum for the most sceptical, lends some
countenance to this view by certain controversial passages—not
to be taken seriously—in which “the words of the scribes” are
placed almost above the words of the Torah. Since then the
interpretation of Scripture or the Secondary Meaning is mainly
a product of changing historical influences, it follows that the
centre of authority is actually removed from the Bible and placed
Introduction 9
in some living body, which, by reason of its being in touch

with the ideal aspirations and the religious needs of the age,
is best able to determine the nature of the Secondary Meaning.
This living body, however, is not represented by any section of
the nation, or any corporate priesthood, or Rabbihood, but by
the collective conscience of Catholic Israel as embodied in the
Universal Synagogue. The Synagogue “with its long, continuous
cry after God for more than twenty-three centuries,” with its
unremittent activity in teaching and developing the word of God,
with its uninterrupted succession of prophets, Psalmists, Scribes,
Assideans, Rabbis, Patriarchs, Interpreters, Elucidators, Emi-
nences, and Teachers, with its glorious record of Saints, martyrs,
sages, philosophers, scholars, and mystics; this Synagogue, the
only true witness to the past, and forming in all ages the sublimest
expression of Israel's religious life, must also retain its authority
as the sole true guide for the present and the future. And being in
communion with this Synagogue, we may also look hopefully for
a safe and rational solution of our present theological troubles.
For was it not the Synagogue which even in antiquity determined [xix]
the fate of Scripture? On the one hand, for example, books like
Ezekiel, the Song of Songs, and Ecclesiastes, were only declared
to be Holy Writ in virtue of the interpretation put upon them by
the Rabbis: and, on the other hand, it was the veto of the Rabbis
which excluded from the canon the works that now pass under
the name of Apocrypha. We may, therefore, safely trust that the
Synagogue will again assert its divine right in passing judgment
upon the Bible when it feels called upon to exercise that holy
office. It is “God who has chosen the Torah, and Moses His ser-
vant, and Israel His people.” But indeed God's choice invariably
coincides with the wishes of Israel; He “performeth all things”
upon which the councils of Israel, meeting under promise of the
Divine presence and communion, have previously agreed. As
the Talmud somewhere expresses itself with regard to the Book
of Esther, “They have confirmed above what Israel has accepted
below.”
Another consequence of this conception of Tradition is that
it is neither Scripture nor primitive Judaism, but general custom
which forms the real rule of practice. Holy Writ as well as
history, Zunz tells us, teaches that the law of Moses was never
fully and absolutely put in practice. Liberty was always given to
the great teachers of every generation to make modifications and
innovations in harmony with the spirit of existing institutions.
Hence a return to Mosaism would be illegal, pernicious, and
indeed impossible. The norm as well as the sanction of Judaism
is the practice actually in vogue. Its consecration is the consecra-
tion of general use,—or, in other words, of Catholic Israel. It was
probably with a view to this communion that the later mystics
[xx] introduced a short prayer to be said before the performance
of any religious ceremony, in which, among other things, the
speaker professes his readiness to act “in the name of all Israel.”
It would be out of place in an introductory essay to pursue any
further this interesting subject with its far-reaching consequences
upon Jewish life and Jewish thought. But the foregoing remarks
may suffice to show that Judaism did not remain quite inactive
at the approach of the great religious crisis which our generation
has witnessed. Like so many other religious communities, it
reviewed its forces, entrenched itself on the field of history, and
what it lost of its old devotion to the Bible, it has sought to make
up by a renewed reverence for institutions.
In this connection, a mere mention may suffice of the ultra-
Orthodox party, led by the late Dr. S. R. Hirsch of Frankfort
(1808-1889) whose defiance of reason and criticism even a Ward
might have envied, and whose saintliness and sublimity even a
Keble might have admired. And, to take an example from the
opposite school, we must at least record the name of that devout
Jew, Osias Schorr (1816-1895), in whom we have profound
learning combined with an uncompromising disposition of mind
productive of a typical champion of Radicalism in things reli-
Introduction 11
gious. These men are, however, representative of two extremes,

and their followers constitute mere minorities; the majority is
with the historical school.
How long the position of this school will prove tenable is
another question. Being brought up in the old Low Synagogue,
where, with all attachment to tradition, the Bible was looked
upon as the crown and the climax of Judaism, the old Adam still
asserts itself in me, and in unguarded moments makes me rebel [xxi]
against this new rival of revelation in the shape of history. At
times this now fashionable exaltation of Tradition at the expense
of Scripture even impresses me as a sort of religious bimetallism
in which bold speculators in theology try to keep up the market
value of an inferior currency by denouncing loudly the bright
shining gold which, they would have us believe, is less fitted
to circulate in the vulgar use of daily life than the small cash
of historical interpretation. Nor can I quite reconcile myself to
this alliance of religion with history, which seems to me both
unworthy and unnatural. The Jew, some writer aptly remarked,
was the first and the fiercest Nonconformist of the East, and so
Judaism was always a protesting religion. To break the idols,
whether of the past or of the present, has always been a sacred
mission of Judaism, and has indeed been esteemed by it as a
necessary preliminary to the advent of the kingdom of God on
earth. One of its daily prayers was and still is: “We therefore
hope in Thee, O Lord our God, that we may speedily behold the
glory of Thy might, when ... the idols will be cut off, when the
world will be perfected under the kingdom of the Almighty.” It
bowed before truth, but it had never made a covenant with facts
only because they were facts. History had to be re-made and
to sanctify itself before it found its way into its sacred annals.
Nor did Judaism make a virtue of swallowing down institutions.
Such institutions as crept into it in course of time had, when the
Synagogue was conscious of their claims to form part of religion,
to submit to the laborious process of a thorough adaptation to
prophetic notions before they were formally sanctioned. But

[xxii] when this process was deemed impossible or impracticable,
Judaism boldly denounced the past in such fierce language as
the prophets used and as still finds its echo in such passages of
the liturgy as “First our ancestors were worshippers of idols and
now God has brought us near to His service”; or “But of a truth,
we and our ancestors have sinned.”
However, it would be unfair to argue any further against a
theological system which, as already said, was never avowed dis-
tinctly by the historical school—a school, moreover, with which
speculation is a matter of minor importance. The main strength
of this school lies in its scientific work, for which Judaism will
always be under a sense of deep gratitude. And living as we do
in an age in which history reigns supreme in all departments of
human thought, we may hope that even its theology, as far as it
goes, will “do” for us, though I neither hope nor believe that it
will do for those who come after us. I may, however, humbly
confess that the sixth essay in this volume was written in a spirit
of rebellion against this all-absorbing Catholic Israel, with its
decently veiled scepticism on the one hand, and its unfortunate
tendency with many people to degenerate into a soulless confor-
mity on the other hand. There is, I am afraid, not much to be
said in favour of this essay. It is deficient both in matter and in
style. It proved to be a futile attempt to bring within the compass
of an essay what a whole book could hardly do justice to. The
Hebrew documents bearing upon the question of dogma which I
have collected from various manuscripts and rare printed books,
would alone make a fair-sized volume. I only venture to offer it
to the public in the absence of anything better; since, so far as I
[xxiii] know, no other attempt has ever been made to treat the subject
even in its meagrest outlines. I even venture to hope that, with all
its shortcomings, it will contribute something towards destroying
the illusion, in which so many theologians indulge, that Judaism
is a religion without dogmas. To declare that a religion has no
Introduction 13
dogmas is tantamount to saying that it was wise enough not to

commit itself to any vital principles. But prudence, useful as it
may be in worldly affairs, is quite unworthy of a great spiritual
power.
Jewish mysticism in the Middle Ages and in modern times
is represented in this volume by two essays (“The Chassidim”
and “Nachmanides”). But in order to avoid mistakes which
might be implied by my silence, I think it desirable to state that
there are also to be found many mystical elements in the old
Rabbinic literature. Mysticism, not as a theosophic system or as
an occult science, but as a manifestation of the spiritual and as
an expression of man's agonies in his struggle after communion
with God, as well as of his ineffable joy when he receives the
assurance that he has found it, is not, as some maintain, foreign
to the spirit of old Rabbinic Judaism. There was no need for
the mediæval Rabbi to borrow the elements of such a mysticism
from non-Jewish sources. The perusal of the old Homilies on the
Song of Songs, and on the Lessons from the Prophets, or even a
fair acquaintance with the Jewish liturgy would, in itself, suffice
to refute such baseless assertions. Those who are at all familiar
with old Rabbinic literature hardly need to be told that “the sea of
the Talmud” has also its gulf stream of mysticism which, taking
its origin in the moralising portions of the Bible, runs through
the wide ocean of Jewish thought, constantly commingling with
the icy waters of legalism, and unceasingly washing the desolate [xxiv]
shores of an apparently meaningless ceremonialism, communi-
cating to it life, warmth, and spirituality. To draw attention to
this fact a humble attempt has been made in the ninth essay,
“The Law and Recent Criticism,” a subject which I have essayed
to expound in a series of essays on “Some Aspects of Rabbinic
Theology,” now appearing in The Jewish Quarterly Review.
The last five essays touch rather on certain social and familiar
aspects of Judaism, and need no further comment. They are mere
causeries and hardly deserve the name of studies. Perhaps it
may be useful for those who judge of the heaviness of a work

by its bulk to know that there is also a lighter side of Rabbinic
literature.
But I shall be better pleased if the more serious side of this vol-
ume—Jewish mysticism and Rabbinic theology—should attract
the attention of students, and so draw some fellow-workers into
a field which is utterly neglected. Notwithstanding the numerous
Manuals and Introductions which all more or less touch on the
subject of Rabbinic theology, there is, after nearly 250 years,
not a single work among them which, either in knowledge of
facts or in their interpretation, is a single step in advance of the
Cambridge Platonist, John Smith, in his Select Discourses. But
those who try so hard to determine the miraculous distance of
Christianity by the eclipses in Rabbinism, should, if they wish to
be just or prove themselves worthy scholars, also endeavour to
make themselves acquainted with the numberless bright stars that
move in the wide universe of Jewish thought. We are often told
that no creed or theological system which has come down to us
[xxv] from antiquity can afford to be judged by any other standard than
by its spiritual and poetic possibilities: this indulgence Judaism
is as justly entitled to claim as any other religion. The great
and saintly Franz Delitzsch who, born with an intellect of ad-
mirable temper, was also endowed by Heaven with a soul—and
a beautiful soul it was—was one of the few theologians who,
partly at least, admitted this claim, and sought earnestly and
diligently after these spiritual and poetic possibilities, and was
amply rewarded for his labours.
[001]
I. The Chassidim1
Throughout the whole of that interesting field of Theological

Literature which deals with the genesis and course of religious
movements, there is probably none whose history, even whose
name, is so little known to English students, as that of the Chas-
sidim. And yet it would be difficult to point, in comparatively
recent times, to a Dissenting movement more strikingly com-
plete in its development, more suggestive of analogy, more full
of interest in its original purpose, more pregnant of warning in
its decay.
1
SUBJOINED IS A LIST OF SELECTED AUTHORITIES ON THE SUBJECT
OF THE CHASSIDIM.{FNS—Historical and Bibliographical Works: Graetz
(xi. including the polemical literature quoted in the Appendix),
Jost, Peter Beer, M. Bodek ( , Lemberg,
1865), A. Walden ( , Warschau, 1864), Finn
( , Wilna, 1860), D. Kahana ( in the
periodical , iv.), Zederbaum ( , Odessa, 1868).
Essays and Satires: T. Erter ( , Wien, 1858), S. Szantó (Jahrbuch
für Israeliten, p. 108-178, 1867), A. Gottlober (in his periodical
, iii.), L. Löw (Ben Chananjah, ii.), Rudermann ( ,
vi.), Rapoport ( , Lemberg, 1873, p. 10), Fröhlich
( , Warschau, 1876, p. 63 seq.), S. Maimon (Autobiographie,
Berlin, 1792). Compare also the Hebrew novels by P. Smolensky, L.
Gordon, M. Brandstätter, A. Gottlober and B. Horowitz (German). Occasional
references to the liturgy or the system of the Chassidim in the “Responses” of
R. Ezechiel Landau, Moses Sopher, E. Flekeles and T. Steinhart, and in the
works of Israel Samostsch, Salomon Chelma and Chayim Walosin. Compare
also Zunz (Gottesdienstliche Vorträge, p. 477) and L. Löw (Mannheimer
Album, Wien, 1874), Senior Sachs ( , i. 61) and B. L. Zeitlin
( , Paris, 1846). The best book on the whole subject is E.
The Hebrew word “Chassidim”2 merely means “the Pious,”

and appears to have been complacently adopted by the early
apostles of the sect. But the thing—Chassidism—was, in its in-
ception at all events, a revolt among the Jews of Eastern Europe
against the excessive casuistry of the contemporary Rabbis. It
was in fact one more manifestation of the yearning of the human
heart towards the Divine idea, and of its ceaseless craving for
direct communion with God. It was the protest of an emotional
but uneducated people against a one-sided expression of Judaism,
presented to them in cold and over-subtle disquisitions which
not only did they not understand, but which shut out the play of
[002] the feelings and the affections, so that religion was made almost
impossible to them.
Some account of the sect is the more necessary because, al-
though the Chassidim have not been wholly ignored by historians
or novelists, the references to them have generally, for perfectly
intelligible reasons, been either biassed or inaccurate. The his-
torians who have treated of them have been almost exclusively
men saturated with Western culture and rationalism. To them the
rude and uncouth manifestations of an undisciplined religious
spirit could not be other than repellent; to them Chassidism was
a movement to be dismissed as unæsthetic and irrational.
Zweifel's work (Zitomyr 1868, three parts), which
I strongly recommend to students. The books written by the Chassidim would
amount to more than 200. They are catalogued by Bodek and Walden. I shall
only draw the attention of the student to the works of Beer, Salomon Ladier, and
Mendel Witipsker on one side, who developed the theory of the Immanence,
and those of Nachman Braslaw and Melech Liezensker, who, on the other hand,
carried the theory of Zaddikism to its utmost consequences. The student will
find a fair collection of sayings and sentences arranged according to theological
subjects in the books and (Anon.,
Lemberg, 1876).
2
, “pious ones” (Ps. xxxvii. 28, lxx. 2, etc.). The reader is
probably acquainted with the term from the Maccabean history (1 Macc. ii.
42, vii. 13), in which the strict party, opposed to all Hellenistic influence, are
called “Assideans” [R.V. “Hasidaeans”], Gr. Ã¹´±Ö¿¹.
I. The Chassidim 17
To the purposes of fiction the romantic side of Chassidism

lends itself readily, but the novelists who have used this material
have confined themselves to its externals. Indeed, to have done
more would have involved a tedious and unremunerative study
of difficult Hebrew texts, an undertaking not to be expected from
the most conscientious writers of this class. Thus Franzos in his
references to the Jews of Barnow describes faithfully the outer
signs of the man, his long coat and tangled curls, but the inner
life, the world in which the Chassid moved and had his being,
was unknown to him and is therefore unrecorded.
As to my treatment of the subject, I confess that there was
a time when I loved the Chassidim as there was a time when
I hated them. And even now I am not able to suppress these
feelings. I have rather tried to guide my feelings in such a way
as to love in Chassidism what is ideal and noble, and to hate in it
what turned out bad and pernicious for Judaism. How far I have
been successful is another question. At least I have endeavoured
to write this paper in such a spirit. But of one thing I must warn [003]
the reader—the desire to give some clear notion of the leading
ideas of Chassidism has compelled me to quote some passages in
which the Chassidim have spoken in very offensive terms of their
opponents. In justice to these I must remark that unfortunately
religious struggles are usually conducted on the most irreligious
principles. Thus the Chassidim imputed to their antagonists, the
contemporary Rabbis, many vices from which they were free.
Certainly, there was, as one can read in every history of Jewish
religion, something wrong in the state of Judaism. But I know
people who maintain that there is something very wrong in the
present state of Judaism, and who despair of a regeneration. But
surely this is a silly exaggeration. The Chassidim also exaggerat-
ed. It would be better to take but little notice of their accusations
and dwell more on that which was spoken in a kind and loving
spirit.
As to the literature of the subject, I can only say here that I
have made use of every book I could consult, both in English and
in foreign libraries. But I cannot pledge myself to be what early
Jewish writers called “a donkey which carries books.” I exercise
my own choice and my own judgment on many points.
As an active force for good, Chassidism was short-lived. For,
as I propose to show, there lurked among its central tenets the
germs of the degeneracy which so speedily came upon it. But its
early purposes were high, its doctrines fairly pure, its aspirations
ideal and sublime.
The founder of the sect was one Israel Baalshem,3 and the story
of his parentage, birth, and childhood, and the current anecdotes
of his subsequent career play a considerable part in Chassidic
[004] literature. But the authentic materials for his biography are
everywhere interwoven with much that is pure legend and with
much more that is miraculous. This was, perhaps, inevitable, and
is certainly not an unfamiliar feature in the personal histories of
religious reformers as presented by their followers and devotees.
The sayings and doings of Baalshem are an essential—per-
haps the most essential—portion of any account of the sect. For
Baalshem is the centre of the Chassidic world, and Chassidism
is so intimately bound up with the personality of its founder that
any separation between them is well nigh impossible. To the
Chassidim Baalshem is not a man who established a theory or
set forth a system; he himself was the incarnation of a theory and
his whole life the revelation of a system.
Even those portions of his history which are plainly legendary
3
, “The Master of the Name,” a term usually applied to exorcists,
who cast out devils and performed other miracles through adjuration by the
name of God (or angels). The unbelieving Rabbis maintained indeed that
in his exorcisms Baalshem employed “impure names” (of devils), whilst the
Chassidim, on the other hand, declared that their Master never used “names” at
all, his miracles being performed by the divine in Baalshem to which all nature
owes obedience. Occasionally the Chassidim call him (The
Man of Good Name), in allusion to Eccles. vii. 1, shortened by some into
Besht.
I. The Chassidim 19
have their uses in indicating the ideals and in illustrating the

aspirations of the early Chassidim; while their circulation and the
ready credence they received are valuable evidence of the real
power and influence of Baalshem's personality.
In the tale as told by the sect little is omitted of those bio-
graphical accessories which are proper to an Avatar. There is
all the conventional heralding of a pre-ordained advent; all the
usual signs and portents of a new dispensation may be recognised
in the almost preternatural virtues of Baalshem's parents, in the
miraculous annunciation and exceptional circumstances of his
nativity, and in the early indication of a strong and fearless in-
dividuality. Everywhere it seems to be suggested that Baalshem
from his infancy was conscious of a lofty mission. It is already in
tender years that he is made to give evidence of an indifference [005]
to conventional restraints and accepted ideals.
Rabbi Eliezer and his wife, the parents of Baalshem, dwelt, as
the story goes, in Moldavia. They are described as a pious and
God-fearing couple, who, when they had already reached old age,
were still childless. They are accredited with a spotless rectitude,
which was unimpaired by a long series of strange vicissitudes
and misfortunes.
Ultimately, an angel of God appeared to Eliezer and announced
that, as he had successfully withstood all the temptations and
sufferings by which he had been tried, God was about to reward
him with a son, who was destined to enlighten the eyes of all
Israel. Therefore his name should be Israel, for in him the words
of Scripture were to be fulfilled, “Thou art my servant, Israel,
in whom I will be glorified.” In due course the promise was
fulfilled, and to the aged couple a son was born, who was named
Israel according to the angel's word. The date of Baalshem's
birth is about 1700; his birthplace, in Bukowina, in a hitherto
unidentified village which the authorities call Ukop, then still
belonging to Roumania. The child's mother died soon after he
was weaned, and his father did not long survive her. But before
Eliezer died he took his child in his arms, and blessing him, bade
him fear naught, for God would always be with him.
As Eliezer had been greatly honoured in the community in
which he lived, his orphan son was carefully tended and educat-
ed. He was early supplied with an instructor in the Holy Law. But
though he learned with rare facility, he rejected the customary
methods of instruction. One day, while still quite young, his
[006] teacher missed him, and on seeking found him sitting alone in
the forest that skirted his native village, in happy and fearless
solitude. He repeated this escapade so often that it was thought
best to leave him to follow his own bent. A little later we find him
engaged as assistant to a schoolmaster. His duty was not to teach,
but to take the children from their homes to the synagogue and
thence on to the school. It was his wont while accompanying the
children to the synagogue to teach them solemn hymns which he
sang with them. In the synagogue he encouraged them to sing the
responses, so that the voices of the children penetrated through
the heavens and moved the Divine father to compassion. Satan,
fearing lest his power on earth should thereby be diminished,
assumed the shape of a werewolf, and, appearing before the
procession of children on their way to the synagogue, put them
to flight. In consequence of this alarming incident the children's
services were suspended. But Israel, recollecting his father's
counsel to fear naught, besought the parents to be allowed to lead
the children once more in the old way. His request was granted,
and when the werewolf appeared a second time Israel attacked
him with a club and routed him.
In his fourteenth year Israel became a beadle at the Beth Ham-
midrash.4 Here he assiduously but secretly pursued the study of
the Law. Yet, being anxious that none should know his design,
he read and worked only at night, when the schoolroom was
empty and the usual scholars had retired. During the daytime he
4
—“House of Research” or of “study” (of the Law), but
in which also divine service is held thrice a day.
I. The Chassidim 21
slept, so that he was popularly believed to be both ignorant and

lazy. Despite these precautions, however, his true character was
revealed to one person. A certain holy man, the father of a young [007]
student at the college, had discovered some old manuscripts
which contained the deepest secrets. Before his death he bade his
son repair to Ukop, Israel's birthplace, telling him that he would
find one Israel, son of Eliezer, to whom the precious documents
were to be entrusted. They possessed, so the old man declared, a
certain mystic and heavenly affinity with Israel's soul. The stu-
dent carried out his father's instructions, and at last discovered the
object of his search in the beadle of the Beth Hammidrash. Israel
admitted him to his friendship and confidence on the condition
of secrecy as to his real character. The student, however, paid
dearly for this acquaintance with Israel. Contrary to Baalshem's
advice, he entered upon a dangerous incantation in the course of
which he made a mistake so serious that it cost him his life.
Upon the death of his friend, Baalshem left his native village
and settled as a teacher in a small town near Brody. Here,
although his true mission and character were still unknown, he
became much respected for his rigid probity, and was frequently
chosen as umpire in disputes among Jews. On one of these
occasions he arbitrated with so much learning and impartiality
that not only did he satisfy both parties, but one of them, a learned
man of Brody, named Abraham, offered him his own daughter
in marriage. Israel, to whom it had been revealed that Abraham's
daughter was his predestined wife, immediately accepted the
offer and the act of betrothal was drawn up. But wishing his
true character to remain unknown he stipulated that Abraham,
although a “Talmid Chacham” (student)5 himself and therefore
presumably desirous that his daughter should marry a scholar,
should omit from the betrothal-deed all the titles of honour [008]
usually appended to the name of a learned bridegroom. While
5
—“Disciple of the Wise,” the usual title of a scholar or
student.
returning to Brody, Abraham died, and Gershon his son, a scholar

still greater and more celebrated than his father, was surprised
and shocked to find a deed of betrothal among his father's papers,
from which it appeared that his sister was to wed a man with ap-
parently no claim to scholarship or learning. He protested to his
sister, but she declined to entertain any objections to a marriage
which her father had arranged. When the time for the wedding
was at hand, Israel gave up his post as teacher, and repaired to
Brody. Disguised as a peasant he presented himself before his
future brother-in-law, who was then fulfilling some high judicial
function. Gershon taking him for a beggar offered him alms, but
Israel, refusing the money, asked for a private interview, stating
that he had an important secret to reveal. He then, to Gershon's
surprise and disgust, explained who he was and that he had come
to claim his bride. As the girl was determined to obey her father's
will the affair was settled and the day fixed. On the morning of
the wedding Israel revealed to his bride his real character and
mission, at the same time enjoining secrecy. Evil fortunes would
befall them, he said, but a better time would eventually follow.
After the wedding, Gershon, having in vain attempted to
instruct his seemingly ignorant brother-in-law, decided to rid
himself of his presence. He gave his sister the choice of being
separated from her husband, or of leaving the town in his com-
pany. She chose the latter, and thereupon the two left Brody and
began a life of hardship and suffering. Israel chose for his new
home a spot on one of the spurs of the Carpathian Mountains. No
[009] Jews lived there, and Israel and his wife were thus separated from
the society of their fellows in a life of complete and unchanging
solitude. Israel dug lime in the ravines among the mountains, and
his wife conveyed it for sale to the nearest town. Their life at this
period seems to have been one of great privation, but the harder
Israel's outward lot, the more he increased in spiritual greatness.
In his solitude he gave himself up entirely to devotion and re-
ligious contemplation. His habit was to climb to the summit of
I. The Chassidim 23
the mountains and wander about rapt in spiritual ecstasies. He

fasted, prayed, made continual ablutions, and observed all the
customary outward and inward exercises of piety and devotion.
After seven years, Gershon, who was well aware of the bitter
poverty which his sister endured, relented and brought her and
her husband back to Brody. At first he employed Baalshem as his
coachman, but as he proved wholly unfit for this work Gershon
rented a small inn in a remote village, and there established his
sister and her husband. The business of the inn was managed
by the wife, while Baalshem passed most of his time in a hut in
a neighbouring forest. Here he once more gave himself up to
meditation and preparation for his future work, and here, a little
later, when nearly forty-two years of age, to a few chosen spirits,
afterwards his most fervent disciples, he first revealed his true
character and mission.
From this point unfortunately the materials for a continuous
biography are wanting; we next hear of Baalshem discharging
the functions of an ordinary Rabbi at Miedziboz in Podolia, but
for the remainder of his personal history we have to be content
with detached anecdotes and fragmentary passages in his life, [010]
the sum total of which goes to show that he resided in Podolia and
Wallachia, teaching his doctrines to his disciples and “working
Wonders.” He does not seem to have figured as a public preacher,
nor has he left behind him any written work. He appears rather to
have used the method, familiar to students of Greek philosophy,
of teaching by conversations with his friends and disciples. These
conversations, and the parables with which they were largely in-
terspersed, were remembered and stored up by his hearers. By his
neighbours the country folk, Baalshem was regarded simply as “a
man of God.” He was allowed to pursue his course undisturbed
by persecution of the serious character which his more aggressive
successors provoked. Such of the Rabbis as were aware of his
existence despised him and his ways, but the Rabbinical world
was at that time too much occupied in the controversy between
Eybeschütz and Emden to concern itself with the vagaries of an

obscure and apparently “unlearned” eccentric. Baalshem also
took part in the disputes which were held in Lemberg, the capital
of Galicia (1757?), between the Rabbis and the Frankists,6 who
denounced the Talmud to the Polish Government and wanted
to have all the Rabbinical books destroyed. Baalshem suffered
from this excitement in a most terrible way. The abrogation of
the Oral Law meant for him the ruin of Judaism.
Baalshem, in forming the little band of devoted followers
who were destined to spread a knowledge of his creed, travelled
considerably about Wallachia. He at one time decided to make a
pilgrimage to Palestine, but when he reached Constantinople he
[011] felt himself inspired to return and continue his work at home.
He died at Miedziboz on the eve of Pentecost, 1761.
After his death his disciples, of whom one Beer of Mizriez
was the most prominent, undertook the proselytising mission for
which Baalshem had prepared them, but from which he himself
appears to have abstained. They preached and taught in all the
provinces of Russia where Jews may reside, and in Roumania,
and Galicia. The number of the sect at the present day is probably
about half a million.
Returning now to Baalshem the founder, it may be noted that
his appearance as a teacher and reformer was accompanied and
justified by a customary and adequate number of miracles. To
6
A Jewish sect, so called after their founder Jacob Leibovicz Frank, who was
himself one of the apostles of the pseudo-Messiah Shabbethai Tsebi of Smyrna
in Turkey. Among his other doctrines he taught also a sort of Trinity, consisting
of the Holy Ancient One, the Holy King or the Messiah, and a feminine person
in the Godhead, in which he, like his master, represented the Second Person.
The sect ultimately abolished the Law, and, after many controversies with the
Rabbinic Jews, went over to Catholicism, the dominant religion in Poland,
by which they were soon absorbed. Eybeschütz, chief Rabbi of Prague and
Hamburg, was suspected by Emden to be a secret adherent of Shabbethai Tsebi,
which was tantamount to apostasy from Judaism. Eybeschütz protested. The
litigants excommunicated each other, and the Rabbis divided into two camps,
taking sides either with Emden or with his antagonist.
I. The Chassidim 25
one disciple he revealed secrets which could have become known

to him only by divine revelation; to another he appeared with a
nimbus round his head. On the evidence of the Chassidim we
learn that Baalshem performed all the recognised signs and mar-
vels which have ever been the customary minor characteristics
of men of similar type in similar environment. When Baalshem
desired to cross a stream, he spread forth his mantle upon the
waters, and standing thereupon passed safely to the other side.
Ghosts evacuated haunted houses at the mere mention of his
name. Was he alone in the forest on a wintry night, he had but to
touch a tree with his finger tips and flames burst forth. When his
spirit wandered through the angelic spheres, as was frequently
the case, he obtained access to Paradise for millions of pining
souls who had vainly waited without through long thousands of
mournful years. These and other miracles need not be examined.
Here, as in the case of other such blissful seasons of grace, they
were the ephemeral though important accessories in establishing [012]
the inspired character of his utterances and the authority of his
injunctions. It is not as a worker of miracles, but as a religious
teacher and reformer, that Baalshem is interesting.
Properly to understand the nature and special direction of his
teaching, it is necessary in some measure to realise the character
of the field in which he worked; to consider, in other words, the
moral and religious condition of the Jews in those districts where
Chassidism first took root.
In a Hebrew Hymn, written about 1000 A.C., and still recited
in the synagogue on the Day of Atonement, the poet expresses
the strange and bitter fortunes of his race in touching words of
mingled sorrow and exultation.
Destroyed lies Zion and profaned,
Of splendour and renown bereft,
Her ancient glories wholly waned,
One deathless treasure only left;
Still ours, O Lord,
Thy Holy Word.
And this Divine Word it was, which a persecuted religion has

sought to preserve intact through so many centuries of persecu-
tion, and for the sake of which no labour seemed too severe, no
sacrifice too large. “Bethink Thee, O God,” exclaimed one of
our Jewish sages who flourished about the same period, “bethink
Thee of Thy faithful children who, amid their poverty and want,
are busy in the study of Thy Law. Bethink Thee of the poor in
Israel who are willing to suffer hunger and destitution if only
they can secure for their children the knowledge of Thy Law.”
[013] And so indeed it was. Old and young, weak and strong, rich
and poor, all pursued that single study, the Torah. The product
of this prolonged study is that gigantic literature which, as a
long unbroken chain of spiritual activity, connects together the
various periods of the Jews' chequered and eventful history. All
ages and all lands have contributed to the development of this
supreme study. For under the word Torah was comprised not
only the Law, but also the contributions of later times expressing
either the thoughts or the emotions of holy and sincere men; and
even their honest scepticism was not entirely excluded. As in the
canon of the Bible, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Solomon found
place in the same volume that contains the Law and the Prophets,
so at a later time people did not object to put the philosophical
works of Maimonides and the songs of Judah Hallevi on the same
level with the Code of the Law compiled by R. Isaac Alfasi, and
the commentaries on the Bible by R. Solomon b. Isaac.7 None of
7
The works of Maimonides or Moses b. Maimon (1135-1204) are too
many to be enumerated here. The most important are the Guide of
the Perplexed ( ) and his Compendium of the Law
( ). Judah Hallevi or Abul Hassan flourished in the first
half of the twelfth century. He is well known as a poet by his Divan and as a
deep religious thinker by his Cusari. The former contains also many songs of
a secular nature. Isaac Alfasi (died 1103) is best known by his Compendium
I. The Chassidim 27
them was declared infallible, but also to none of them, as soon

as people were convinced of the author's sincerity, was denied
the homage due to seekers after truth. Almost every author was
called Rabbi (“my master”) or Rabbenu (“our master”),8 and
nearly every book was regarded more or less as a contribution to
the great bulk of the Torah. It was called Writ,9 and was treated
with a certain kind of piety. But, by a series of accidents too
long to be related here, sincerity ceased and sport took its place.
I refer to the casuistic schools commonly known by the name of
Pilpulists10 (the “seasoned” or the “sharp” ones), who flourished
in the last two centuries preceding ours. To the authors of this
unhappy period, a few glorious exceptions always allowed, the
preceding Jewish literature did not mean a “fountain of living [014]
waters,” supplying men with truth and religious inspiration, but
rather a kind of armoury providing them with juristic cases over
which to fight, and to out-do each other in sophistry and subtlety.
As a consequence they cared little or nothing for that part of
the Jewish literature that appeals less to the intellect than to the
feelings of men. In short, religion consisted only of complicated
cases and innumerable ordinances, in which the wit of these men
found delight. But the emotional part of it, whose root is the
Faith and Love of men, was almost entirely neglected.
But it was precisely these higher religious emotions that were
Baalshem's peculiar province, and it was to them that he assigned
in his religious system a place befitting their importance and their
dignity. And the locality where his ministration lay was curiously
of the Talmud, which was so greatly admired by his contemporaries that they
declared it could never have been composed “without the aid of the Holy
Spirit.” R. Solomon b. Isaac, also called by his initials Rashi (1040-1105), is
well known by his commentaries on the Bible and the Talmud.
8
.
9
, Sepher.
10
The Hebrew word is , meaning subtle discussion and sharp
distinction. The word is closely related to or , which
means “pepper” or “seasoning.”
adapted for such propaganda. To that universal study of the Law

of which I have just spoken there was one exception. That
exception was amongst the Jews in the territories which bordered
on the Carpathian Mountains, and comprise the principalities of
Moldavia, and Wallachia, Bukowina, and the Ukraine.
It is historically certain that the first arrival of the Jews in
Roumania was at a very early date, but there is no trace of
any intellectual productivity among the immigrants until recent
times, and it is admitted that the study of the Law was almost
entirely neglected. It was in these districts of mental, and perhaps
we might add of even spiritual, darkness that Chassidism took its
rise and achieved its first success. “The sect of the Chassidim,”
says one of the bitterest but most trustworthy of their opponents,
[015] “first gained ground in the most uncivilised provinces; in the
wild ravines of Wallachia and the dreary steppes of the Ukraine.”
Apart from the genius of its founder, Chassidism owed its
rapid growth to the intellectual barrenness of these districts as
compared with the intellectual fertility of the other regions where
Jews most thickly congregated. The Roumanian Jews were to
some extent under the jurisdiction of the Rabbis of Poland. Now
the Poles were celebrated even in Germany for the elaboration
of their casuistry. These over-subtle Rabbis, delighting in the
quibbles of their sophistry, and reducing religion to an unending
number of juristic calculations and all sorts of possibilities and
impossibilities, were but too apt to forget the claims of feeling in
their eager desire to question and to settle everything. They may
have been satisfactory guides in matters spiritual to the men of
their own stamp, but they were of no avail to their Roumanian
brethren who failed to recognise religion in the garb of casuistry.
It was, therefore, not surprising that a revolt against the excess
of intellectualism should have sprung up and flourished in those
districts where the inhabitants were constitutionally incapable of
appreciating the delights of argument. The field was ready, and
in the fulness of time came the sower in the person of Baalshem.
I. The Chassidim 29
In the above estimate of the Polish Rabbis there undoubtedly

lurks a touch of exaggeration. But it represents the view which
the Chassidim took of their opponents. The whole life of Baal-
shem is a protest against the typical Rabbi thus conceived. The
essential difference in the ideals of the two parties is perhaps best
illustrated in those portions of their biographical literature where
legend treads most closely upon the heels of fact. [016]
The hero of Polish Rabbinic biography at five years of age can
recite by heart the most difficult tractates of the Talmud; at eight
he is the disciple of the most celebrated teacher of the time, and
perplexes him by the penetrative subtlety of his questions; while
at thirteen he appears before the world as a full-fledged Doctor
of the Law.
The hero of the Chassidim has a totally different education,
and his distinctive glory is of another kind. The legendary stories
about Baalshem's youth tell us little of his proficiency in Talmu-
dic studies; instead of sitting in the Beth Hammidrash with the
folios of some casuistic treatise spread out before him, Baalshem
passes his time singing hymns out of doors, or under the green
trees of the forest with the children. Satan, however, says the
Chassid, is more afraid of these innocent exercises than of all the
controversies in the Meheram Shiff.11 It was through external
nature, the woods of his childhood, the hills and wild ravines
of the Carpathians where he passed many of his maturer years,
that Baalshem, according to his disciples, reached his spiritual
confirmation. The Chassidic hero had no celebrated Rabbi for
his master. He was his own teacher. If not self-taught, it was
from angelic lips, or even the Divine voice itself, that he learned
the higher knowledge. From the source whence the Torah flowed
Baalshem received heavenly lore. His method of self-education,
his ways of life, his choice of associates were all instances of re-
volt; not only did he teach a wholly different theory and practice,
11
= R. Meir Shiff, whose novellæ on the Talmud are of a
very subtle kind, and were very popular with the students of this work.
but he and his disciples seem to have missed no opportunity of

denouncing the old teachers as misleading and ungodly. Among
the many anecdotes illustrating this feature, it is told how once,
[017] on the evening before the great Day of Atonement, Baalshem
was noticed by his disciples to be, contrary to his usual custom,
depressed and ill at ease. The whole subsequent day he passed
in violent weeping and lamentations. At its close he once more
resumed his wonted cheerfulness of manner. When asked for the
explanation of his behaviour, he replied that the Holy Spirit had
revealed to him that heavy accusations were being made against
the Jewish people, and a heavy punishment had been ordained
upon them. The anger of heaven was caused by the Rabbis,
whose sole occupation was to invent lying premisses and to draw
from them false conclusions. All the truly wise Rabbis of the
olden time (such as the Tannaim, the Amoraim12 -220 A.C.{FNS).
The latter occupied themselves mainly with the interpretation of
the Mishnah, and their discussions and controversies are incor-
porated in the Talmud of Jerusalem and that of Babylon, and
extend over the period from 220-500 A.C.{FNS The Talmud of
Jerusalem is mostly the product of the schools of Palestine. The
Talmud of Babylon is a growth of that country. The authorities
of this latter Talmud being far away from the place where the
first great Rabbis lived and laboured, their traditions are naturally
not so historically reliable as those of the Talmud of Jerusalem.
The authorities of Palestine were also simpler in their method
of interpretation. These again are followed by the Babylonian
schools of new interpreters (of the Talmud).
and their followers, whom Baalshem regarded as so many saints
and prophets) had now stood forth as the accusers of their modern
successors by whom their words were so grossly perverted from
12
— , “The Repeaters,” and “The Interpreters.”
The sayings and statements of the former are embodied in the Mishnah, a work
compiled by R. Judah the Saint about 220 A.C.{FNS, and covering a period of
about 250 years (30 B.C.{FNS
I. The Chassidim 31
their original meaning. On this account Baalshem's tears had

been shed, and his prayers as usual had been successful. The
impending judgment was annulled. On another occasion, when
he overheard the sounds of eager, loud discussion issuing from
a Rabbinical college, Baalshem, closing his ears with his hands,
declared that it was such disputants who delayed the redemption
of Israel from captivity. Satan, he said, incites the Rabbis to
study those portions of Jewish literature only on which they can
whet the sharpness of their intellects, but from all writings of
which the reading would promote piety and the fear of God he
keeps them away. “Where there is much study,” says a disciple
of Baalshem, “there is little piety.” “Jewish Devils”13 is one of
the numerous polite epithets applied to the Rabbis by the friends
of Baalshem. “Even the worst sinners are better than they; so
blind are they in the arrogance of their self-conceit that their [018]
very devotion to the Law becomes a vehicle for their sin.” It will
be found when we deal with the most positive side of Baalshem's
teaching that this antagonism to the attitude and methods of the
contemporary Rabbis is further emphasised, and it will readily be
seen that his whole scheme of religion and of conduct in relation
to God and man rendered this acknowledged hostility inevitable.
In approaching this part of our subject it should be remembered
that, as stated above, Baalshem himself wrote nothing. For a
knowledge of his sayings we are therefore dependent on the
reports of his friends and disciples. And it is not unfrequently
necessary to supplement these by the teaching of his followers,
whom we may suppose in large measure to have caught the
spirit of their master. Unfortunately the original authorities are
in a difficult Hebrew patois which often obscures the precise
meaning of whole passages.
The originality of Baalshem's teaching has been frequently
impugned, chiefly by the suggestion that he drew largely from
13
, an expression that goes back as far as to the
Zohar.
the Zohar (Book of Brightness).14 This mystical book, “the Bible

of the Cabbalists,” whether we regard its subject-matter or its
history and influence, is unique in literature. Its pretended author
is Simeon ben Yochai, a great Rabbi of the second century, but
the real writer is probably one Moses de Leon, a Spanish Jew,
who lived eleven centuries later. The book is one of the most
interesting literary forgeries, and is a marvellous mixture of good
and evil. A passage of delicate religious fancy is succeeded by
another of gross obscenity in illustration and suggestion; true
piety and wild blasphemy are strangely mingled together. Baal-
[019] shem undoubtedly had studied the Zohar, and he even is reported
to have said that the reading of the Zohar had enabled him to see
into the whole universe of things. But, for all that, Baalshem was
no copyist; and the Zohar, although it may have suggested a hint
to him here and there, was not the source whence his inspiration
was drawn.
Its attraction for Baalshem is sufficiently explained by the
fantastic, imaginative, and emotional nature of its contents. It
lent itself more easily than the older Rabbinical literature to new
explanations unthought of by its author. But even the Talmud
and its early commentaries became apocalyptic to the heroes of
Chassidism. Nay, the driest and most legal disquisitions about
meum and tuum could be translated into parables and allegories
and symbols full of the most exalted meanings. Baalshem, like
every other religious reformer, was partially the product of his
age. The influences of the past, the history and literature of his
own people, helped to make him what he was. But they do not
rob him of his originality. He was a religious revivalist in the best
sense; full of burning faith in his God and his cause; convinced
utterly of the value of his work and the truth of his teaching.
Although there can be no real doubt of Baalshem's claim to
originality, it should be borne in mind that his teaching is not
14
, “Brightness.” Cf. Dan. xii. 3,—the authors of “The Brightness”
pretending to be the Maskilim or “Wise Ones” mentioned in this verse.
I. The Chassidim 33
only distinctively Jewish, but that for every part of it parallels

and analogies could be found in the older Hebrew literature.
Indeed it is not wonderful that in a literature, extending over
2000 years, of a people whose chief thoughts have been religion,
and who have come in contact with so many external religious
and philosophic influences, the germs can be discovered of [020]
almost every conceivable system, and the outline of almost every
imaginable doctrine.
The keynote of all Baalshem's teachings is the Omnipresence,
or more strictly the Immanence, of God. This is the source from
which flows naturally every article of his creed; the universality
of the Divinity is the foundation of the entire Chassidic fabric.
The idea of the constant living presence of God in all existence
permeates the whole of Baalshem's scheme; it is insisted on in
every relation; from it is deduced every important proposition
and every rule in conduct of his school.
All created things and every product of human intelligence
owe their being to God. All generation and all existence spring
from the thought and will of God. It is incumbent upon man
to believe that all things are pervaded by the divine life, and
when he speaks he should remember that it is this divine life
which is speaking through him. There is nothing which is void
of God. If we imagine for a moment such a thing to be, it would
instantly fall into nothingness. In every human thought God is
present. If the thought be gross or evil, we should seek to raise
and ennoble it by carrying it back to its origin. So, if a man be
suddenly overwhelmed by the aspect of a beautiful woman, he
should remember that this splendour of beauty is owing to the
all-pervading emanation from the divine. When he remembers
that the source of corporeal beauty is God, he will not be content
to let his thought abide with the body when he can rise to the
inward contemplation of the infinite soul of beauty, which is
God. A disciple of Baalshem has said: Even as in the jewels
of his beloved the lover sees only the beauty of her he loves, [021]
so does the true lover of God see in all the appearances of this
world, the vitalising and generative power of his divine master.
If you do not see the world in the light of God you separate
the creation from its Creator. He who does not fully believe in
this universality of God's presence has never properly acknowl-
edged God's Sovereignty, for he excludes God from an existing
portion of the actual world. The word of God (to Baalshem,
a synonym for God himself), which “is settled in heaven” and
“established on earth,” is still and always speaking, acting, and
generating throughout heaven and earth in endless gradations
and varieties. If the vitalising word were to cease, chaos would
come again. The belief in a single creation after which the Master
withdrew from his completed work, is erroneous and heretical.
The vivifying power is never withdrawn from the world which it
animates. Creation is continuous; an unending manifestation of
the goodness of God. All things are an affluence from the two
divine attributes of Power and Love, which express themselves
in various images and reflections.
This is the doctrine of universality in Chassidism. God, the
father of Israel, God the Merciful, God the All-powerful, the
God of Love, not only created everything but is embodied in ev-
erything. The necessity of believing this doctrine is the cardinal
Dogma. But as creation is continuous so also is revelation. This
revelation is only to be grasped by faith. Faith, therefore, is more
efficacious than learning. Thus it is that in times of persecution,
the wise and the foolish, the sinner and the saint, are wont alike
[022] to give up their life for their faith. They who could render no
answer to the questions of the casuist are yet willing to die the
most cruel of deaths rather than deny their faith in the One and
Supreme God. Their strength to face danger and death is owing
to that divine illumination of the soul which is more exalted than
knowledge.
We should thus regard all things in the light of so many
manifestations of the Divinity. God is present in all things;
I. The Chassidim 35
therefore there is good, actual or potential, in all things. It is our

duty everywhere to seek out and to honour the good, and not to
arrogate to ourselves the right to judge that which may seem to be
evil. In thinking therefore of a fellow-man, we should above all
things realise in him the presence of the spirit of good. Whence
we have the Doctrine that each of us, while thinking humbly of
himself, should always be ready to think well, and always slow
to think evil, of another. This explains the Chassidic attitude
towards erring humanity. Baalshem viewed human sin and in-
firmity in a very different light from that of the ordinary Rabbi.
Ever conscious of the Divine side of Humanity, he vigorously
combated the gratuitous assumption of sinfulness in man which
was a fertile subject with contemporary preachers. They, among
the Roumanian Jews as in other communities, delighted chiefly
to dwell on the dark side of things, and found their favourite
theme in elaborate descriptions of the infernal punishments that
were awaiting the sinner after death. It is related how on one
occasion Baalshem rebuked one of these. The preacher had
been denouncing woe to an audience of whom he knew nothing
whether for evil or for good. Baalshem, indignant at this indis-
criminative abuse and conceited arrogation of the divine office
of judgment, turned on him in the following words: “Woe upon [023]
thee who darest to speak evil of Israel! Dost not know that every
Jew, when he utters ever so short a prayer at the close of day, is
performing a great work before which the angels in heaven bow
down?” Great, as it would seem, was the value set by Baalshem
upon the smallest evidence of the higher nature in man, and few
there were, as he believed, who, if their spirit was not darkened
by pride, did not now and again give proof of the divine stamp in
which God had created them. No sin so separates us from God
that we need despair of return. From every rung of the moral
ladder, no matter how low, let man seek God. If he but fully
believe that nothing is void of God, and that God is concealed in
the midst of apparent ruin and degradation, he will not fear lest
God be far from him. God is regained in a moment of repentance,

for repentance “transcends the limits of space and time.” And he
who leads the sinner to repentance causes a divine joy; it is as
though a king's son had been in captivity and were now brought
back to his father's gaze.
Baalshem refused to regard any one as wholly irredeemable.
His was an optimistic faith. God was to be praised in gladness by
the dwellers in this glorious world. The true believer, recognising
the reflection of God in every man, should hopefully strive, when
that reflection was obscured by sin, to restore the likeness of God
in man. The peculiar detestability of sin lies in this, that man
rejects the earthly manifestations of the Divinity and pollutes
them. One of Baalshem's disciples delighted in the saying that
the most hardened sinners were not to be despaired of, but prayed
for. None knows the heart of man, and none should judge his
neighbour. Let him who burns with zeal for God's sake, exercise
[024] his zeal on himself, not others. Baalshem said, “Let no one
think himself better than his neighbour, for all serve God; each
according to the measure of understanding which God has given
him.”
From this position it is a natural step to Baalshem's view of
prayer. He is reputed to have said that all the greatness he had
achieved was the issue not of study but of prayer. But true prayer
“must move,” as Baalshem phrased it, “in the realms above,”
and not be concerned with affairs sublunary. Your prayer should
not be taken up with your wishes and needs, but should be the
means to bring you nigh to God. In prayer man must lay aside his
own individuality, and not even be conscious of his existence;
for if, when he prays, Self is not absolutely quiescent, the object
of prayer is unattainable. Indeed it is only through God's grace
that after true prayer man is yet alive; to such a point has the
annihilation of self proceeded.
It may be necessary to caution the reader against ascribing
to Baalshem any modern rationalistic notions on the subject of
I. The Chassidim 37
prayer. The power of prayer, in the old-fashioned sense, to

produce an answer from God was never doubted by Baalshem
for a moment. Baalshem's deity is not restricted towards any side
by any philosophic considerations. All Baalshem meant was that
any reference or regard to earthly requirements was unworthy
and destructive of this communion of man with God. The wise
man, says Baalshem, does not trouble the king with innumerable
petitions about trifles. His desire is merely to gain admission into
the king's presence and to speak with him without a go-between.
To be with the king whom he loves so dearly is for him the
highest good. But his love for the king has its reward; for the [025]
king loves him.
It has already been implied that, with regard to our duty
towards our fellow-man, we must not only honour him for the
good, and abstain from judging the evil that may be in him, but
must pray for him. Furthermore we must work for his spiritual
and moral reclamation. In giving practical effect in his own life
to this doctrine, Baalshem's conduct was in striking contrast to
that of his contemporaries. He habitually consorted with outcasts
and sinners, with the poor and uneducated of both sexes, whom
the other teachers ignored. He thus won for his doctrines a way to
the heart of the people by adapting his life and language to their
understanding and sympathies. In illustration of this, as well as of
his hatred of vanity and display, it is told how, on the occasion of
his being accorded a public reception by the Jews on his arrival at
Brody, instead of addressing to them in the conventional fashion
some subtle discourse upon a Talmudical difficulty, he contented
himself with conversing upon trivial topics in the local dialect
with some of the less important persons in the crowd.
This incident is perhaps the more noteworthy because it oc-
curred in Brody, which was at that time a seat of learning and
Rabbinic culture,—a place where, for that very reason, Chas-
sidism was never able to gain a foothold. It is probable enough
that Baalshem in his visits to this town kept aloof from the
learned and the wise, and sought to gather round him the ne-
glected and humbler elements of Jewish society. It is well known
that Baalshem consorted a good deal with the innkeepers of the
district, who were held in very low repute among their brethren.
[026] The following remark by one of his followers is very suggestive
in this respect. Just as only superficial minds attach a certain
holiness to special places, whilst with the deeper ones all places
are alike holy, so that to them it makes no difference whether
prayers be said in the synagogue or in the forest; so the latter
believe that not only prophecies and visions come from heaven,
but that every utterance of man, if properly understood, contains
a message of God. Those who are absorbed in God will easily
find the divine element in everything which they hear, even
though the speaker himself be quite ignorant of it.
This line of conduct gave a fair opening for attack to his
opponents, an opportunity of which they were not slow to avail
themselves. Baalshem was pointed at as the associate of the
lowest classes. They avenged themselves for his neglect of and
hostility to the learned by imputing the worst motives to his
indifference to appearances. He was accused of idling about
the streets with disreputable characters, and one polemical trea-
tise draws the vilest inferences from his apparent familiarity
with women. To this charge Baalshem's conduct, innocent in
itself, gave some colour; for his views and habits in relation to
women marked a strong divergence from current customs. The
position of women in contemporary circles was neither debased
nor inevitably unhappy, but it was distinctly subordinate. Their
education was almost entirely neglected, and their very existence
was practically ignored. According to the Chassidic doctrine
of Universality, woman was necessarily to be honoured. “All
Jews,” says one Chassid, “even the uneducated and the women,
[027] believe in God.” Baalshem frequently associated with women,
assigning to them not only social equality, but a high degree of
religious importance.
I. The Chassidim 39
His own wife he reverenced as a saint; when she died he

abandoned the hope of rising to heaven while yet alive, like
Elijah of old, saying mournfully that undivided such translation
might have happened, but for him alone it was impossible. Then
again in a form of religion utilising so largely the emotions of
Faith and Love there was a strong appeal to the female mind. The
effect of this was soon evident, and Baalshem did not neglect to
profit by it. Among the most devoted of his early adherents were
women. One of them was the heroine of a favourite anecdote
concerning Baalshem's work of Love and Rescue. It is related
that in a certain village there dwelt a woman whose life was so
disgraceful that her brothers at last determined to kill her. With
this object they enticed her into a neighbouring wood, but guided
by the Holy Spirit Baalshem intervened at the critical moment,
and dissuading the men from their purpose rescued the sinner.
The woman afterwards became a sort of Magdalen in the new
community.
Above I have endeavoured to throw together in some order
of sequence the doctrines and practical rules of conduct which
Baalshem and his early disciples seem to have deduced from their
central idea of the omnipresence of God. This was necessary in
order to give a connected idea of their creed, but it is right to
say that nowhere in Chassidic literature have these deductions
been logically co-ordinated. Perhaps their solitary attempt to
formulate and condense their distinctive views is confined to
a statement of their idea of piety or service of God, and an
examination of three cardinal virtues, Humility, Cheerfulness,
and Enthusiasm. What the Chassidim held as to true service [028]
brings into relief Baalshem's characteristic manner of regarding
the Law.
By the service of God was generally understood a life which
fulfilled the precepts of the written and oral law. Baalshem
understood by it a certain attitude towards life as a whole. For,
as God is realised in life, each activity of life when rightly
conceived and executed is at once a manifestation and a service

of the Divine. All things have been created for the glory and
service of God. The smallest worm serves Him with all its power.
Thus, while eating, drinking, sleeping, and the other ordinary
functions of the body are regarded by the old Jewish moralists
as mere means to an end, to Baalshem they are already a service
of God in themselves. All pleasures are manifestations of God's
attribute of love; and, so regarded, they are at once spiritualised
and ennobled. Man should seek to reach a higher level of purity
and holiness before partaking of food and drink, than even before
the study of the Law. For when the Torah had once been given
by God the whole world became instinct with its grace. He who
speaks of worldly matters and religious matters as if they were
separate and distinct, is a heretic.
Upon the continual and uninterrupted study of the Law, Baal-
shem lays but little stress. He accepted the ordinary belief that
the Law (under which term are included not only the Pentateuch,
but the whole Old Testament and the major portion of the old
Rabbinic literature) was a revelation of God. But, as the world
itself is equally a divine revelation, the Torah becomes little
more than a part of a larger whole. To understand it aright one
[029] needs to penetrate to the inward reality—to the infinite light
which is revealed in it. We should study the Law not as we
study a science for the sake of acquiring knowledge (he who
studies it so has in truth been concerning himself with its mere
outward form), but we should learn from it the true service of
God. Thus the study of the law is no end in itself. It is studied
because, as the word of God, God is more easily discerned and
absorbed in this revelation of Him than in any other. The Torah is
eternal, but its explanation is to be made by the spiritual leaders
of Judaism. It is to be interpreted by them in accordance with
the Attribute of the age. For he regarded the world as governed
in every age by a different Attribute of God—one age by the
Attribute of Love, another by that of Power, a third again, by
I. The Chassidim 41
Beauty, and so on—and the explanation of the Torah must be

brought into agreement with it. The object of the whole Torah
is that man should become a Torah himself. Every man being a
Torah in himself, said a disciple of Baalshem, has got not only
his Abraham and Moses, but also his Balaam and Haman: he
should try to expel the Balaam and develop the Abraham within
him. Every action of man should be a pure manifestation of God.
The reason why we should do what the Law commands is not
to gain grace thereby in the eyes of God, but to learn how to love
God and to be united to Him. The important thing is not how
many separate injunctions are obeyed, but how and in what spirit
we obey them. The object of fulfilling these various ordinances
is to put oneself, as it were, on the same plane with God, and
thus, in the ordinary phrase of the religious mystic, to become
one with Him, or to be absorbed in Him. People should get to
know, says Baalshem, what the unity of God really means. To [030]
attain a part of this indivisible unity is to attain the whole. The
Torah and all its ordinances are from God. If I therefore fulfil
but one commandment in and through the love of God, it is as
though I have fulfilled them all.
I have now briefly to refer to the three virtues to which the
Chassidim assigned the highest place of honour. Of these the first
is called in Hebrew “Shiphluth,”15 and is best rendered by our
word “Humility,” but in Chassidic usage it includes the ideas of
modesty, considerateness, and sympathy. The prominence given
to these qualities is in sharp contrast to the faults of conceit,
vanity, and self-satisfaction, against which Baalshem was never
weary of protesting. He regarded these as the most seductive
of all forms of sin. But a few minutes before his death he was
heard to murmur, “O vanity, vanity! even in this hour of death
thou darest to approach me with thy temptations: ‘Bethink thee,
Israel, what a grand funeral procession will be thine because thou
15
.
hast been so wise and good.’ O vanity, vanity! beshrew thee.”

“It should be indifferent to man,” says the master, “whether he
be praised or blamed, loved or hated, reputed to be the wisest of
mankind or the greatest of fools. The test of the real service of
God is that it leaves behind it the feeling of humility. If a man
after prayer be conscious of the least pride or self-satisfaction,
if he think, for instance, that he has earned a reward by the
ardour of his spiritual exercises, then let him know that he has
prayed not to God but to himself. And what is this but disguised
idolatry? Before you can find God you must lose yourself.” The
Chassidim treated Shiphluth from two sides: a negative side in
[031] thinking humbly of oneself, a positive in thinking highly of one's
neighbour, in other words the love for our fellow-man.
He who loves the father will also love his children. The true
lover of God is also a lover of man. It is ignorance of one's own
errors that makes one ready to see the errors of others. “There is
no sphere in heaven where the soul remains a shorter time than
in the sphere of merit, there is none where it abides longer than
in the sphere of Love.”
The second Cardinal Virtue is “Cheerfulness,” in Hebrew
“Simchah.”16 Baalshem insisted on cheerfulness of heart as a
necessary attitude for the due service of God. Once believe that
you are really the servant and the child of God and how can
you fall again into a gloomy condition of mind? Nor should
the inevitable sins which we all must commit disturb our glad
serenity of soul. For is not repentance ready at hand by which
we may climb back to God? Every penitent thought is a voice
of God. Man should detect that voice in all the evidence of his
senses, in every sight and sound of external nature. It is through
his want of faith in the universality of God's presence that he
is deaf to these subtle influences and can read only the lessons
which are inscribed in books.
16
.
I. The Chassidim 43
The reader will be prepared to learn that Baalshem, taking this

cheerful view of things, was opposed to every kind of asceti-
cism. Judaism, or rather Israelitism, it is true, was not originally
much of an ascetic religion. But there can be little doubt that in
the course of history there came in many ascetic doctrines and
practices, quite enough at least to encourage such tender souls
the bent of whose minds lay in this direction. To one of these, a
former disciple, Baalshem wrote: “I hear that you think yourself [032]
compelled from religious motives to enter upon a course of fasts
and penances. My soul is outraged at your determination. By the
counsel of God I order you to abandon such dangerous practices,
which are but the outcome of a disordered brain. Is it not written
‘Thou shalt not hide thyself from thine own flesh?’ Fast then no
more than is prescribed. Follow my command and God shall be
with you.” On another occasion Baalshem was heard to observe
that it is a machination of Satan to drive us into a condition of
gloom and despondency in which the smallest error is regarded
as a deadly sin. Satan's object is to keep us away from the true
service of God, and God can only be truly served from a happy
and confident disposition. Anxious scrupulosity in details is
therefore to be avoided. It is the counsel of the Devil to persuade
us that we never have done and shall never do our duty fully, and
that moral progress is impossible. Such ideas beget melancholy
and despair, which are of evil.
The third virtue is called in the Hebrew Chassidic literature
“Hithlahabuth,”17 and is derived from a verb meaning “to kin-
dle” or “set on fire.” The substantive “Hithlahabuth,” so far as
I am aware, was first coined by Baalshem's followers. It is best
rendered by our word “Enthusiasm.” Every religious action, to be
of any avail, must be done with enthusiasm. A mere mechanical
and lifeless performance of an ordinance is valueless. A man is
no step nearer the goal if he thinks, forsooth, that he has done
17
.
his duty when he has gone through the whole round of laws
in every section of the code. This essential enthusiasm is only
begotten of Love. The service of fear, if not wholly useless, is yet
necessarily accompanied by a certain repulsion and heaviness,
[033] which effectually prevent the rush and ardour of enthusiasm. The
inspiration of true service is its own end. There is no thought of
this world, and there is none of the world to come. In the Talmud
there is frequent reference to one Rabbi Elisha ben Abuyah, an
apostate from Judaism, who, when urged to repent, replied that
repentance was useless, and that for this mournful belief he had
direct divine authority. For he had been told by a voice from
heaven that even though he repented he would be excluded from
sharing the happiness of the world to come. Of him it was said
by one of the Chassidim, “This man indeed missed a golden
opportunity. How purely could he have served God, knowing
that for his service there could never be a reward!”
From the conception of Enthusiasm springs the quality of
mobility, suggesting spiritual progress, and commonly opposed
by Baalshem and his followers to the dull religious stagnation
of self-satisfied contemporaries. Man should not imagine him-
self to have attained the level of the righteous; let him rather
regard himself as a penitent who should make progress every
day. Always to remain on the same religious plane, merely
repeating to-day the religious routine of yesterday, is not true
service. There must be a daily advance in the knowledge and
love of the Divine Master. Mere freedom from active sin is
not sufficient; such negative virtue may be but another word for
the chance absence of temptation. What boots it never to have
committed a sin if sin lies concealed in the heart? It is only the
uninterrupted communion with God which will raise and ennoble
your thoughts and designs, and cause the roots of sin to die. The
patriarch Abraham, without any command from God, fulfilled
[034] the whole Torah, because he perceived that the Law was the life
of all created things. In the Messianic age the law will no longer
I. The Chassidim 45
seem to man as something ordained for him from without; but

the law will be within the hearts of men; it will seem natural and
self-evident to them, because they will realise that God and life
are manifested through the law.
Baalshem, who dealt largely in parable, has left the following,
which we may fitly add to our somewhat inadequate presentation
of his doctrine.
There was once a king who built himself a glorious palace.
By means of magical illusion it seemed as if the palace were full
of devious corridors and mazes, preventing the approach to the
royal presence. But as there was much gold and silver heaped up
in the entrance halls, most people were content to go no further,
but take their fill of treasure. The king himself they did not
notice. At last the king's intimate had compassion upon them and
exclaimed to them, “All these walls and mazes which you see
before you do not in truth exist at all. They are mere illusions.
Push forward bravely, and you shall find no obstacle.”
We must not interpret the parable to mean that Baalshem de-
nied the reality or even the importance of the actual phenomenal
world. The very contrary is the truth. The world is for him full of
God, penetrated through and through by the divine, and therefore
as real as God himself. It was quite in Baalshem's manner when
one of his disciples declared that only fools could speak of the
world as vanity or emptiness. “It is in truth a glorious world.
We must only learn how rightly to make use of it. Call nothing
common or profane: by God's presence all things are holy.” [035]
Above we have reviewed the essential doctrines of Baalshem
and his immediate followers; we have now to see how they fared
at the hands of the sect which he founded. This is a sad part
of our task, for the subsequent history of Chassidism is almost
entirely a record of decay. As formulated by its founder the
new creed amounted to a genuine Reformation, pure and lofty
in ideal. After his death unhappily it was rapidly corrupted and
perverted. This was due almost exclusively to the dangerous and
exaggerated development of a single point in his teaching. That

point, the honour due to the divine in man, was relatively a minor
article in the original creed. But the later Chassidism has given
it a distorted and almost exclusive importance wholly out of pro-
portion to the grander and more essential features of Baalshem's
teaching, until the distinctive feature of the Chassidism of to-day
is an almost idolatrous service of their living leaders. What little
there is to say of the history of the sect after Baalshem's death
would be unintelligible without some explanation of the origin
and growth of this unfortunate perversion.
It has been explained that Baalshem laid but little stress upon
the study of the Law or the observance of its precepts in them-
selves, but regarded them only as means to an end. The end is
union with God. Man has to discover the presence of God in
the Divine word and will. Now this mystical service of God,
although perhaps sufficing to sensitive and enthusiastic natures,
is scarcely plain or definite enough for ordinary men. Few can
realise abstractions: and yet fewer can delight in them and find
in their contemplation sufficient nurture for their religious needs.
[036] What then had Chassidism to offer to the ordinary majority who
could not recognise God in all the plenitude of His disguise?
The want of something tangible whereon to fix the minds of the
people, which has confronted the teachers of so many creeds, was
also encountered by the Chassidim, and they unfortunately found
their way out of the difficulty by relying on and developing their
doctrine of man's position in the Universe. Man's ideal is to be a
law himself; himself a clear and full manifestation of God. Now,
not only is he God's servant and child, but in highest development
he becomes himself a part of God, albeit in human shape, so that
he may become wholly one with his divine Father. But if man
may reach this highest level of holiness, he is virtually a kind
of God-man, whom his fellow-men of lower levels perceive by
reason of his manhood, but his essential office consists in raising
them up to God by reason of his Divinity.
I. The Chassidim 47
The few chosen spirits who through the successful persistency

with which they have sought God in all things have become,
though yet on earth, absorbed in Him, are known in Chassidic
literature by the name of the “Zaddikim.” The Hebrew word
Zaddik18 means “just” or “righteous,” and the term was probably
chosen in conscious opposition to the title of Rabbinic heroes,
“disciples of the wise.” For the Zaddik is not so much the product
of learning as of intuition: his final consummation is reached
by a sudden and direct illumination from God. The Zaddik not
only resembles Moses, but, in virtue of his long communion with
the Divine, he is also the true child of God. He is, moreover,
a vivifying power in creation, for he is the connecting bond
between God and his creatures. He is the source of blessing and
the fount of grace. Man must therefore learn to love the Zaddik, [037]
so that through the Zaddik he may win God's grace. He who does
not believe in the Zaddik is an apostate from God. Here then we
have the fatal exaggeration to which I have alluded, and here its
logical consequence. The step to man-worship is short.
This peculiar doctrine of the Intermediary soon became the
distinguishing feature of Chassidism. By a Chassid was under-
stood not a man who held such and such opinions in theology
and religion, but a believer in the Zaddik, and one who sought to
attain salvation through the worship of the Zaddik. Every other
doctrine of Chassidism was rapidly pushed into the background
and overlooked. Even the grand and fundamental doctrine of
Omnipresence in the Creation was veiled by the special presence
in the Zaddik. Chassidism became mere Zaddikism, and its
subsequent history is identical with the downward development
of that cult.
Whether Baalshem named his successor is doubtful. But the
lead after his death was assumed by his disciple Beer of Mizriez.
This man's conversion to Chassidism was an important event for
18
, pl. .
the new community; his piety and learning were beyond dispute,
and, whereas during Baalshem's life Chassidism had found its
chief adherents among the lower classes of society, Beer man-
aged to gather round him many of the most learned among his
contemporaries. It was to these new and ardent disciples of Beer
that the expansion of Chassidism was chiefly due. They came
together from many quarters, and after Beer's death separated and
preached the new doctrine far and wide. Many even went forth
during the lifetime of their master, and at his command, to found
fresh branches of the new sect. Like Beer himself, they directed
[038] their efforts mainly to winning over the educated sections of the
Jews. The elder men paid little heed to their word, but the youths,
just fresh from their casuistic studies, which had sharpened their
wits and starved their souls, lent a ready ear and an eager heart to
the new doctrine. The uneducated were by no means excluded;
to them Chassidism held out a deeper consolation and a grander
hope than the current Rabbinism of the age; they therefore joined
the young community in large numbers without any special effort
being necessary to gain them over.
In their methods of Prayer the Chassidim most conspicuous-
ly differed from the older communities. Laying as they did
supreme stress on the importance and efficacy of prayer, they
soon found it necessary to secede from the existing synagogues
and erect separate buildings for themselves. The usual salaried
Reader “with the beautiful voice and empty head,” who naturally
regarded his function as a matter of business, was done away
with and his place taken either by the Zaddik himself or by some
other distinguished person in the community. The Chassidim
also effected many changes in the liturgy. Instead of the German
they adopted the Spanish ritual. They excised many prayers
which, lacking the authority of antiquity, were cumbrous in form
or objectionable in matter. They inserted new prayers and hymns
of their own. They paid little regard to the prescribed hours at
which public worship should be held. Prayer began when they
I. The Chassidim 49
had got themselves into the proper devotional frame of mind.

Frequent ablutions, perusal of mystical writings, introspective
meditation were the means by which they sought to gain the
befitting mood. The prayers themselves were accompanied by [039]
the usual phenomena of religious excitement. Some in the zeal of
their devotion began to dance; others were rapt in a motionless
ecstasy; some prayed aloud; others in solemn silence. They
justified their abrogation of fixed hours for prayer by saying that
you cannot order a child when to speak with its father: such
restraint were fit only for slaves.
As a rule the larger number of the younger Chassidim were
able to devote their whole time to religious exercises. It was the
custom among the Jews in Eastern Europe for the young men to
live at the expense of their own or their wives' parents, in order
that they might give themselves up entirely to religious study.
According to the old notions, this meant the study of the Talmud
and its Commentaries; the Chassidim who cared little for the
legal side of Jewish literature betook themselves to the literature
of edification and mysticism. No small part of their time was
taken up with endless conversations about the Zaddik, his piety,
goodness, and self-sacrifice and the wonderful miracles which
he had wrought. If a Zaddik was living in his own town, the
youthful Chassid spent as many hours as he could in the Zaddik's
company, in order to observe and study this embodied Torah as
constantly as possible. Where no Zaddik was at hand, periodical
pilgrimages were made to the town in which he lived, and endless
were the tales which were afterwards repeated, to those who were
obliged to stay at home, of the Zaddik's marvellous wisdom and
extraordinary deeds. The last hours of the Sabbath day were
looked upon as a special season of grace, and the Chassidim
were therefore in the habit of collecting together in the waning
of the Sabbath and celebrating the so-called “Supper of the Holy
Queen.” The meal was accompanied by the usual conversations [040]
as well as by hymns and prayers.
The Chassidim were second to no other sect in their loyalty

and affection for each other. No sacrifice for a brother Chassid
was too great. They knew no difference of rich and poor, old
and young, wise and ignorant; for they all, with one accord,
worshipped one common ideal, the Zaddik, who in his exalted
position was equally raised above them all. Before him all minor
differences of rank disappeared. When a Chassid travelled, he
had no scruple in asking for lodging or entertainment in the
house of any Chassid who could afford to give them. If he was
in money difficulties the purse of his host was at his disposal.
If that was not sufficient, it was supplemented by a grant from
the fund of the community. These gifts were not looked upon in
the light of charity either by giver or receiver; they were made
to the Zaddik, to whom all Chassidim alike were debtors. It
sometimes even happened that a Zaddik said that the son of some
rich merchant was to marry the daughter of a poor schoolmaster,
and both parties were equally delighted to fulfil the wish of their
beloved chief.
It may easily be imagined that the innovations of the Chas-
sidim provoked the wrath of the orthodox communities. But
in their detestation of the Rabbis the Chassidim returned in full
measure all the hatred they received. The Zaddik is the Moses of
his age: the Rabbis its Korah and Abiram. Where the Chassidic
party in any community gained the upper hand, the Rabbi was
deposed and a Zaddik, if that was possible, elected in his place.
The issue of these bitter attacks upon the old nobility of the
[041] Jewish race was a rigorous persecution. In many places the
Chassidim were excommunicated, in others their leaders were
publicly scourged and put into the stocks. Their books were burnt
and their synagogues forcibly closed. But persecution produced
only the usual result of increasing the popularity and the numbers
of the sect. The devotion of the Chassidim to each other and to
their common cause was increased a hundred-fold by suffering.
In one case a distinguished Zaddik was accused of treason, before
I. The Chassidim 51
the Russian authorities, and was thrown into prison. In Russia,

however, the power of money is considerable, and on payment
of a large ransom not only was the beloved Zaddik released but
as an obvious consequence his reputation greatly profited: the
day of his release was celebrated as a yearly festival, while his
sufferings were regarded by his followers as a sin-offering that
atoned for the iniquities of his age. From this time the govern-
ment maintained a purely neutral attitude towards the new sect,
and ere long the persecution by the orthodox ceased.
The cessation of persecution may possibly be accounted for
by the fact that Chassidism as a secession soon ceased to be
formidable. There were early divisions within the sect. Even
Beer's disciples began to quarrel over theological differences
and to found separate communities. When once the course of
corruption and spiritual decay had begun, it was the interest of
the false Zaddikim to accentuate these differences. Each Zaddik
sought to have a whole little sect to himself, from which to draw
an undivided revenue. And each deluded little sect as it arose
boasted of the exclusive possession of the true Zaddik.
It must not be supposed that these strictures apply to the whole
class of Zaddikim. The greater number of Baalshem's leading
disciples as well as Beer's were beyond question men of pure, [042]
unalloyed piety, who would have rejected with scorn any idea
of making a trade of their sacred profession. Their motives and
their zeal were alike ideal. Many gave up highly paid posts
as Rabbis when they joined the new sect. Some emigrated to
Palestine to lead a holy life on holy ground, others sought to
become religious specialists, following out practically, although
with some exaggeration, a favourite doctrine of the Founder, that
he who observes but one commandment devotedly and lovingly,
may reach the goal desired: the union with God. Thus one Zaddik
made it his business never to tell the smallest falsehood, what-
ever the cost or the inconvenience of truth might be. It is related
that the Russian Government, suspecting the Jews of his town
of smuggling, consented to withdraw the charge if he declared

his brethren innocent. Having no alternative but either to bring
misfortune on his brethren or to tell an untruth, he prayed to God
to save him from this dilemma by sending death upon him. And
lo! when the officials came to fetch him before the law court
they found him dead. Another, thinking that the commandment
in Exodus xxiii. 3, relating to the help that should be given to
a neighbour or enemy when “his ass is lying under its burden,”
was practically unobserved, devoted himself to its fulfilment. He
was continually to be seen in the streets, helping one man to
load his waggon, and another to drag his cart out of the mire. A
third made the service of the oppressed his religious specialty.
It is said that one day his wife, having had a quarrel with her
maid, was setting out to the magistrate of the town to obtain
satisfaction. Noticing that her husband was about to accompany
her, she asked him whither he was bound. He replied, “to the
[043] magistrate.” His wife declared that it was below his dignity to
take any part in a quarrel with a servant. She could deal with the
matter herself. The Zaddik replied, “That may be, but I intend to
represent your maid, who when accused by my wife will find no
one willing to take her part.” And then, bursting into a passion of
tears, he quoted Job xxxi. 13: “If I did despise the cause of my
man-servant or of my maid-servant, when they contended with
me, what shall I do when God riseth up?”
Several Zaddikim were learned men and thinkers of no ordi-
nary kind. The works of Solomon Ladier or of Mendel Witipsker,
read with attention and without Western preconceptions, certain-
ly give the impression of both originality and depth of thought.
But most characteristic of all is the passionate yearning of authors
such as these towards the Divine. The reader is astonished and
moved by the intense sincerity and ardour of their longing after
God. But, despite the adherence of these worthy men, the fate
of Chassidism, as a regenerative force, was sealed from the day
when Zaddikism replaced the original doctrines of the sect.
I. The Chassidim 53
For, apart from the obvious theological considerations already

suggested, there are two points of inherent weakness in the cult
of the Zaddik which naturally doomed it to perversion and fail-
ure. The necessary qualifications for “Zaddikship” are wholly
undefined. We hear a great deal about what a Zaddik actually is,
but we hear very little about what he should be. The Zaddik has
many virtues, but we are nowhere told what are his indispensable
qualifications. Moreover, the Zaddik is a being who can be
comprehended by the understanding as little as an angel, or as
God Himself. He is realised by faith, not conceived by thought. [044]
Hence there is no human test of a true Zaddik except the test
of miracles; and every student of religious history knows the
deceitful character of that test.
The second source of danger arose from the Chassidim hold-
ing it to be their sacred duty to provide for the Zaddik a life of
comfort and ease. The Zaddik must pursue his divine avocations
undisturbed by grosser cares. But what were the consequences?
The Chassidim believed they could win the grace and blessing of
the Zaddik by the richness and variety of their gifts. A Zaddik's
career became a very profitable concern. The result of both
defects was that not only was the opportunity given for every
scheming charlatan to become a Zaddik, but inducements were
offered to make the deception lucrative. Hence the anxiety of the
false Zaddikim, already noticed, to found separate communities.
Among the Chassidim of to-day there is not one in ten thousand
who has the faintest conception of those sublime ideas which
inspired Baalshem and his immediate disciples. It is still the
interest of the wretched ringleaders of a widely spread delusion
to crush and keep down every trace of reflection and thought
so that they may play at will with the conscience and purses of
their adherents. The new scientific movement, inaugurated by
such men as Krochmal, Zunz, and others who came under the
influence of the German critical spirit, found in them its hottest
and most fanatical opponents. That the cult of the Zaddikim has
not led to still more disastrous consequences is solely due to the

fact that the Chassidim in general have remained faithful to the
Law. It is the Law, against the excessive study of which the
[045] original Chassidim protested, that has put limits to the license of
its modern false prophets.
Amid much that is bad, the Chassidim have preserved through
the whole movement a warm heart, and an ardent, sincere faith.
There is a certain openness of character and a ready friendliness
about even the modern Chassidim which are very attractive.
Religion is still to them a matter of life and death. Their faith
is still real enough to satisfy the demands of a Luther, but it is
diverted and wasted upon unworthy objects. If Chassidism is to
be reformed, its worship must no longer be of man; it must be
brought back again to the source of all Beauty, all Wisdom, and
all Goodness; it must be restored to God.
[046]
II. Nachman Krochmal and the
“Perplexities Of The Time”
In her good-natured panegyric of mediocrity which is known
under the title of Scenes of Clerical Life, George Eliot remarked:
“Let us hope that there is a saving ignorance.”
Strange as this demand may sound, the wish of the great nov-
elist to see her favoured mediocrities “saved,” has been shared
by the great majority of mankind. I know that I, at least, echo
that desire with all my heart. And I am afraid that I am prompted
by some rather selfish reasons. It would be somewhat hard, when
one is born with small abilities, but a great desire for being saved,
to be deprived of the hope held out by the author of Adam Bede.
But there are some, I am afraid, who are not satisfied with this
dictum of George Eliot. They show a strong tendency to make
salvation a monopoly of ignorance. This is a little too selfish.
With all due respect to every form of ignorance, sacred as well
as profane, we ought, I think, to believe that there is also such
a thing as a saving knowledge. Nay, we might go even farther.
There may be certain epochs in history when there is hardly any [047]
other path to salvation than knowledge, and the deep search after
truth.
We all know the words of the Psalmist, “The Lord preserveth
the simple.” But as there are periods in the life of the individual
when naïveté has to give way to sagacity and reflection, so there
are times in history at which Providence does not choose to leave
men in simplicity. At such times doubts arise, as though of them-
selves; questions suddenly become open when they had been
supposed solved for centuries; and the human mind is stirred by
a sceptical breeze of which no man can tell whence it came. One
may under those circumstances be indifferent, but one can be

simple no more.
Even in such cases, however, man has no cause to despair.
When our dearest beliefs are shaken by all kinds of doubts,
Providence sends us also great thinkers, earnest lovers of truth,
who devote their lives to enlightening our puzzled minds. Not
that these men try to answer all the questions by which we feel
perplexed. They endeavour to satisfy us, partly by showing that
many of our difficulties are not difficulties at all, but merely
arise from superficiality, and partly by proving that the great
cause about which we feel so much anxiety does not exactly
depend on the solution of the questions that are troubling us.
They give to the things which are dearer to us than our life a
fresh aspect, which enables us to remain attached to them with
the same devotion and love as before. To speak again in the
words of the Psalmist: “Thou sendest forth Thy Spirit, and they
are created, and Thou renewest the face of the earth.”
This spirit that renews the face of things is what I understand
[048] by “saving knowledge.” As men of that saving knowledge we
may regard Rabban Johanan ben Zaccai19 and his disciples, who
made it possible for Judaism to survive the destruction of the
Temple, which some believed to involve the end of the reli-
gion. As such men we may look upon R. Saadiah Gaon and his
followers, who worked at a time when Judaism was menaced
in its inner life, namely in the tradition, by the attempts of the
narrow-minded Caraites to convert it into a bookish religion.20
19
R. Johanan b. Zaccai was a contemporary of the Apostles, and died about
110 A.D.{FNS He belonged to the peace party in opposition to the Zealots,
and obtained permission from the Roman government to establish the school
of Jamnia, which, after the destruction of the Temple, became the centre of
Jewish religious life. See also p. 188.
20
R. Saadiah Gaon was born in Egypt in 892, and died as the head of the
school of Sura in Babylon in 942. He is known by his translations of and
commentaries on the Bible, and many other works, especially his philosophical
treatise Creeds and Opinions. He was also a great controversialist. Most
57
Such men were Maimonides and his successors, who came to the
aid of religion when it had got into dogmatic troubles by reason
of its coming into contact with various philosophical systems.
And in order to approach the subject of the present essay, I
venture to say that a man of such saving knowledge was also
Nachman Krochmal, who lived and laboured in the first half of
the present century, when Judaism had been terribly shaken by
the scepticism of Voltaire, and the platitudes of the so-called
Mendelssohnian school.
Nachman Krochmal was born on the 17th of February in the
year 1785. His father, Solomon Krochmal, was a merchant of
Brody, a commercial frontier town in the north-east of Galicia
in Austria. In his early years Solomon often used to visit Berlin
for business purposes. He is said to have seen Mendelssohn
there on one occasion, and to have learned greatly to revere
the Jewish sage. And it is not unlikely that Nachman's subse-
quent admiration for Mendelssohn was partly due to his father's
influence.
Solomon was a man of considerable wealth, and he, therefore,
endeavoured to give his son the best possible education. But as a
respectable member of a Polish community a hundred years ago,
Solomon had to follow the fashion adopted by his neighbours, [049]
and the best possible education consisted in affording the child
an opportunity to study the Talmud and other Rabbinical works.
All other languages and their literatures were sealed books to
the child—a very absurd and regrettable fashion indeed. But let
us not be too hard on Polish Jews. I have been told that there
are countries on our globe where people have been driven by
the force of fashion into the opposite extreme; where, with few
exceptions, they think that the Talmud, as well as the whole
of his polemical writings are directed against the Caraites ( ) or

“Scripturalists,” a Jewish sect founded by Anan in the eighth century. They
protested against the Oral Law, and denied Tradition. On the title “Gaon,” see
note 1 to Elijah Wilna.
Hebrew literature, must needs be excluded from the programme

of a gentleman's education.
Happily, or the reverse, Krochmal's childhood did not last
long, for in the year 1798 we find that Nachman, a boy of
fourteen, was already married to a Miss Haberman in Zolkiew.
As a result of this foolish custom of marrying at so very early an
age, Nachman was hardly ever a boy; we have at once to deal
with him as a man.
It was then customary in Poland, and perhaps is so still, for
the father of the bride to provide for the support of the young
couple for some years after their marriage. In order to reduce
the expense of this arrangement, the bridegroom had to reside
in the same house as his father-in-law. Thus we see Krochmal
removing from Brody to Zolkiew, the native town of his wife.
Here Krochmal lived in the house of her father for many years,
entirely devoted to his studies; and he certainly needed all his
time for them. For he now began to expand the sphere of
his education, to embrace subjects quite new to him. By his
marriage Nachman seems to have gained a certain amount of
independence, and the first use he made of it was to study the
[050] Guide of the Perplexed21 of Maimonides, the Commentaries of
Ibn Ezra on the Bible,22 and other more or less philosophical
works written in the Hebrew language. His next step was to
learn German; but, as his biographers inform us, he was not able
to follow this course without undergoing many struggles, and
overcoming many obstacles.
It would lead us too far to give a full account of the difficulties
which the young scholar had to conquer while pursuing his new
studies. They will be sufficiently characterised by the follow-
21
, Moreh Nebuchim, generally considered to be the
greatest philosophical work by any Jewish thinker.
22
R. Abraham Ibn Ezra, who spent some time in London, died about 1161.
He is best known by his commentaries on the Bible. He was the first writer
who doubted the unity of the book of Isaiah.
59
ing extract from a Hebrew letter of his disciple, Solomon Leb

Rapoport, who, writing in 1841 concerning his master and friend,
remarks: “Consider this, ye inhabitants of Germany”—and, I may
add, ye inhabitants of England—“and you will be astounded. It
is easy for you to avoid being one-sided, and to study different
sciences, for you possess many schools and teachers from every
branch of learning. It is not so in Poland and Russia even at
present, much less was it so forty years ago. There is no teacher,
no guide, no supporter, for the Jew who desires any sort of
improvement. The Jew who wishes to enter on a new path of
learning has to prepare the road for himself. And when he has
entered on it, his friend will come to him and ask, ‘Is it true
that you have got scientific books in your house? Mind you do
not mention it to any one. There are enough bigots in the town
to persecute you and all your family if they get scent of it.’ ” It
was under these conditions that Krochmal pursued his studies,
which were by no means few or easy, for he was not content with
a knowledge of only the lighter portions of German literature.
He soon began to read the works of Lessing, Mendelssohn, and
more especially of Kant, who always remained his favourite [051]
philosopher. In his later years he also became acquainted with
the writings of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. But to the last he
could not console himself for having missed the advantages of a
systematic university education.
After having learned German, Krochmal proceeded to acquire
a knowledge of Latin and French, and to read the best books
written in those languages. To deepen his knowledge of Hebrew,
he studied Arabic and Syraic, but we are unable to say how far
he succeeded in mastering these languages. With these studies,
which appear to have occupied our philosopher for an interval
of ten years after his marriage, the first period of his life seems
also to end. But the hard work of ten years did not pass over the
delicate youth without undermining his health for ever. At the age
of twenty-four, Krochmal fell sick of an illness which compelled
him to interrupt his work. He was forced to go to Lemberg to

consult the doctors of that town, and he had to remain there for
a long time. And now began Krochmal's career as a teacher. For
during his stay at Lemberg there gathered round him a band of
young scholars whom Krochmal's fame had already reached. It
is useless to enumerate the names of all these students. Among
them figured Isaac Erter, Samson Bloch, A. Bodek, and many
others. The most gifted of them was undoubtedly Rapoport, who
afterwards became even more famous than his master Krochmal.
It is not easy to define accurately the relation that subsisted
between these two men. Graetz, in his history, calls Rapoport
a disciple of Krochmal. Rapoport himself, in his memoir of
Krochmal, describes the latter as a dear friend with whom he
[052] was wont to discuss literary topics. Zunz does not mention
Rapoport at all in his account of our author. It seems to me that
this relation may be most aptly defined by the Talmudic term
“Talmid-Chaber,”23 “disciple-colleague.”
Indeed, Krochmal's whole method of teaching was rather that
of a companion than of a professor. He gave no set lectures on
particular subjects, but conveyed his instruction rather by means
of suggestive conversations with his younger friends. His usual
habit was to walk with his pupils in the neighbourhood of the
town, and to try to influence their minds each in accordance
with its bent. If any of his disciples showed an inclination
for poetry, Krochmal sought to refine his taste by directing his
attention to the best works in Hebrew and German literature. To
another, whose fancy strayed into mysticism, he recommended
the writings of Philo and Ibn Ezra, at the same time suggesting
how the works of the latter should be interpreted. A third who,
like Rapoport, was interested in historical researches, Krochmal
instructed in the methods of critical inquiry.
There must have been some fascinating charm in Nachman's
23
.
61
personality, which made him irresistible to all who came into

contact with him. Rapoport has described his first interview with
Krochmal. “It is more than thirty years since I first made his
acquaintance, and beheld the glory of his presence. Though he
was in weak health, still his soul was strong; and as soon as
I conversed with him there came over me a spirit of judgment
and knowledge. I felt almost transformed into another man.”
Elsewhere the same writer says: “Oh, how sweet to me were
these walks with Krochmal—sweeter than all the pleasures of
this world. I could never have enough of his wisdom; with his [053]
every word he conveyed a new lesson.”
After a lengthy stay at Lemberg, Krochmal partially, though
not entirely, recovered from his severe illness; he remained weak
and pale for the rest of his days. His antagonists, the Chassidim,
believed him to be possessed by a demon who could find no better
dwelling-place than in the person of this arch-heretic. Had it been
in their power they would probably have dragged him to some
exorcist for the purpose of driving out his German, French, Latin,
and other symptoms of demoniacal heresy. Happily the orthodox
were powerless to do this, so Krochmal was left unmolested, and
was allowed to resume his walks and studies. It may be here
remarked that Krochmal in general avoided giving the Chassidim
any cause for reasonable complaint. Rapoport asserts that his
master was “deeply religious and a strict observer of the law. He
was zealously anxious to perform every ordinance, Biblical or
Rabbinical.” The only liberty that Krochmal claimed for himself
and his disciples was the right to study what they thought best
and in the way they thought best. When this liberty was attacked,
he showed a firmness and resolution which would hardly have
been expected from this quiet and gentle man. To one of his
pupils, who made concessions to the Chassidim and their Zad-
dikim worship, Krochmal wrote: “Be firm in this matter unless
you wish to earn the contempt of every honest man. One who is
afraid of these people, and debases himself before them bears a
mean soul that was born to slavery. The man that wishes to rise
above the mob, with its confused notions and corrupt morality,
must be courageous as a lion in conquering the obstacles that
[054] beset his path. Consideration of what people will say, what
bigots will whisper, what crafty enemies will scheme—questions
such as these can have but one effect,—to darken the intellect
and confuse the faculty of judgment.”
So Krochmal continued his studies without interruption till
1814, when the death of his wife's mother brought his period
of ease and comfort to an end. His father-in-law seems to have
died some time before, and Krochmal was forced to seek his
own living. He became a merchant, but it is to be regretted that
he did not prove as successful a man of business as he was a
man of letters. He found it a hard struggle to earn a living. But
the severest trial which he had to undergo was the death of his
wife in 1826. In a letter, dating from about this time, to a friend
who had asked him for assistance in his philosophical inquiries,
Krochmal wrote—“How can I help you now? I am already an
old man; my head is gray, and my health is broken. In the last
three years I have met with many misfortunes. My beloved wife
died after a long illness. My daughter will soon leave me to get
married, my elder son will depart to seek his livelihood, and I
shall be left alone with only a child of ten years, the son of my
old age. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills: From whence shall
my help come?”
Nachman was evidently in very low spirits at this time, but he
was in too true a sense a philosopher to despair. He turned for
comfort to his studies, and at this dark epoch of his life he first
became acquainted with the Philosophy of Hegel, whose system
he was wont to call the “Philosophy of Philosophies.”
For the next ten years the works of Hegel and inquiries into
[055] Jewish history appear to have absorbed all the leisure that his
mercantile occupation left him. We shall presently see what the
result of these studies was. No fresh subjects were undertaken by
63
Krochmal in the last years of his life; he had already acquired a

fund of knowledge vast enough to engage all his thoughts. There
are, however, some remaining points in his private circumstances
which it may not be uninteresting to mention.
Krochmal, as has been already related, was not prosperous
in his business. Things went from bad to worse, and he was
compelled in 1836 to seek a situation. “There ought to be liter-
ary men poor,” some writer has maintained, “to show whether
they are genuine or not.” This test Krochmal successfully passed
through. Even as a young man Nachman's strength of character
was admired by his contemporaries not less than his rare learning.
In his subsequent distress, he gave evidence of the truth of this
judgment. Despite his poverty, his friends could not prevail upon
him to accept the post of Rabbi in any Jewish community. “I am
unwilling,” he wrote to a friend, “to be the cause of dissensions
in any Jewish congregation. I should prefer to die of hunger
rather than become a Rabbi under present circumstances.” He
expressed his views on this subject even more decidedly on a
later occasion when the Berlin congregation offered him the post
of Chief Rabbi in that town. In a letter, conveying his refusal
of this honourable office, he says: “I never thought of becoming
the Conscience-counsellor (Gewissensrath) of men. My line of
studies was not directed to that end, nor would it accord with
my disposition and sentiments. The only post that I should care
to accept would be that of teacher in the Jewish Theological
Seminary, which, as I was informed, you were thinking of es-
tablishing in Berlin.” The plan to found such an institution was [056]
not realised till forty years later, and in the interval Nachman
had to look for his living in other regions than Jewish theology.
Being in poor circumstances, and as his children and friends had
left him, he felt very lonely at Zolkiew. “Nobody cares for me
here,” he writes, “and I am equally indifferent.” His one desire
was to obtain a situation at Brody, possibly as book-keeper with
a salary of some thirty pounds a year, on condition that he would
be expected to devote only half the day to his business duties,

thus securing for himself leisure for philosophical studies.
His terms were accepted, and he obtained the humble post he
sought. He remained in Brody for the next two years, 1836-8,
but at the end of 1838 he fell so dangerously ill that he could no
longer resist the pressing request of his daughter to live with her
at Tarnopol. She had urged him to take this step even previous
to his removal to Brody, but he had declined on the plea that he
preferred to live by the labour of his hands. Now, however, he
yielded to her wish, and betook himself to Tarnopol, where for
two years longer he lived affectionately tended by his children
and respected by all who knew him. In May 1840, Krochmal's
illness began to develop fatal symptoms, and he died in the arms
of his daughter on the 31st of July (the first of Ab), at the age
of fifty-five. As Zunz happily remarked: “This great man was
born on the 7th of Adar, the birthday of Moses (according to
Jewish tradition), and died on the first of Ab, the anniversary of
the death of Aaron, the High Priest.”
I have tried in the foregoing remarks to give a short sketch
of our Rabbi's life according to the accounts of Zunz, Rapoport,
[057] and Letteris. There is one other point to which I must allude, as
it involves a consideration on which Letteris seems to lay much
stress. This biographer appears to think that Krochmal was in
his youth greatly influenced by the society in which he moved,
consisting as it did of many learned and enlightened men. There
is, too, the oft-quoted saying of Goethe:—
Wer den Dichter will verstehen

Muss in Dichters Lande gehen.
And I am probably expected to give some account of the state

of society in which Nachman grew up. I regret that I must ask to
be excused from doing so. I cannot consent to take the reader to
Krochmal's land. And if I might venture to give him my humble
65
advice, I should only say, “By all means stop at home.” Goethe
may be right about the poet, but his remark does not apply to
the case of the scholar. It may be true, as some think, that every
great man is the product of his time, but it certainly does not
follow that he is the product of his country. Nor could I name
any other country of which Krochmal was the product. Many
a city no doubt boasted itself a town full of “Chakhamim and
Sopherim”24 as the Hebrew phrase is, or, as we would express it,
“a seat of learning,” full of scholars of the ancient and modern
schools. But neither these ancient scholars nor the modern were
of a kind to produce a real scholar and an enlightened thinker like
Krochmal. There were many men who knew by heart the whole
of the Halachic works of Maimonides, the Mishnah, and even
the whole of the Babylonian Talmud. This is very imposing.
But if you look a little closer, you will find that with a few
exceptions—such as the school of R. Elijah Wilna—these men,
generally speaking, hardly deserve the name of scholars at all. [058]
They were rather a sort of studying engines. The steam-engine
passes over a continent, here through romantic scenery, there in
the midst of arid deserts, by stream and mountain and valley,
always with the same monotonous hum and shriek. So these
scholars went through the Talmud with never changing feelings.
They did not rejoice at the description which is given in tractate
Biccurim25 of the procession formed when the first-fruits were
brought into the Holy Temple. They were not much saddened
when reading in tractate Taanith26 of the unhappy days so recur-
rent in Jewish history. They were not delighted by the wisdom of
24
, meaning “sages” and
“scribes,” but used by later writers in the sense given in the text.
25
, dealing with the laws relating to the firstfruits which were
brought to the temple (Ex. xxiii. 19). The processions formed by the pilgrims
are very vividly described after the said tractate by Delitzsch in his Iris, p. 190
sq. (English ed.). See also by the same author, Jüdisches Handwerkerleben zur
Zeit Jesu, p. 66 seq.
26
, “Fast,” or , “Fasts.”
Seder Nezikin,27 which deals with civil law; nor were they vexed
of Seder Taharoth,28 which treats of the laws of cleanliness and
uncleanliness, that by their exaggeration gave cause to much dis-
sension in the time of the Temple. The pre-Talmudic literature,
such as the Siphra, Siphré, and Mechilta29 —the only existing
means of obtaining an insight into the Talmud—were altogether
neglected. All that these readers cared for was to push on to the
end, and the prayer recited at the close was of more importance
to them than the treatise they had perused.
Not less melancholy was the spectacle presented by the so-
called men of “Enlightenment” (Aufklärung). They belonged
chiefly to the rationalistic school of Mendelssohn, but they
equalled their master neither in knowledge nor in moral character.
It was an enlightenment without foundation in real scholarship,
and did not lead to an ideal life, though again I must add that
there were exceptions. These men were rather what Germans
would term Schöngeister, a set of dilettanti who cared to study
[059] as little as possible, and to write as much as possible. They
wrote bad grammars, superficial commentaries on the Bible, and
terribly dull poems. Of this literature, with the exception of
Erter's Watchman,30 there is scarcely a work that one would care
27
, “Order of Damages,” treating of the civil law of the
Jews, the procedure of courts of justice, and kindred subjects. This Order also
includes the tractate , Aboth or “Sayings of the Fathers,” which is
very important for the study of Rabbinic doctrine and ethics.
28
, “Order of Purities,” dealing with the laws regarding
Levitical purity.
29
(or ), , . These
three works form the oldest Rabbinic commentary on Exodus, Leviticus, Num-
bers, and Deuteronomy. The authorities cited in these commentaries all belong
to the period of the Tannaim. See above, note 12 to the Chassidim. Constituting
as they do, to a certain extent, one of the sources used by the Gemara, they are
naturally indispensable for a scientific study of the Talmud.
30
, “Hatsophe,” a spirited satire against the orthodox and especially
against the then prevailing belief in the transmigration of souls taught by the
mystical schools. The book is written in the purest biblical Hebrew.
67
to read twice. Most of them despised Rabbinism, but without

understanding its noblest forms as they are to be traced in the
Talmud and later Hebrew literature. They did not dislike Ju-
daism, but the only Judaism they affected was one “which does
not oppose itself to anything in particular”; or, as Heine would
have described it, “Eine reinliche Religion.” In one respect these
little men were great: in mutual admiration, which reached such a
pitch that such titles as “Great Luminary,” “World-famed Sage,”
were considered altogether too insignificant and commonplace.
I will now pass to the writings of Krochmal. It must be

premised that Krochmal was not a voluminous author. All his
writings, including a few letters which were published in various
Hebrew periodicals, would scarcely occupy four hundred pages.
Krochmal used to call himself “der ewige Student” (the perpetual
pupil). He did not read books, nor study philosophical systems,
with the object of writing books of his own on them. He read
and studied in order that he might become a better and a wiser
man. Besides, he did not think himself competent to judge on
grave subjects, nor did he consider his judgment, even if he
formed one, worthy of publication. He counselled his friends to
be equally slow in publishing their views to the world. “Be not,”
he wrote to a correspondent,—“be not hasty in forming your
opinions before you have studied the literature of the subject
with care and devotion. This is no easy matter, for no man can [060]
obtain any real knowledge of the Torah and philosophy unless he
is prepared to give himself up in single-hearted devotion to his
studies.” Severe though he was to his friends, he was still more
severe to himself. Though he had been collecting materials on
subjects of Jewish history and philosophy from his early youth,
it was not until he had endured much persuasion and pressure
from his friends that he began to write down his thoughts in a
connected form. We thus possess only one work from the pen
of this author; but that work is the Guide of the Perplexed of
the Time,31 a posthumous book published in 1851, eleven years

after Krochmal's death. His work had been much interrupted
by illness during the last years of his life, and as a necessary
consequence many parts of his treatise finally remained in an
unfinished state. Krochmal commissioned his children to hand
over his papers to Zunz, who was to arrange and edit them as
best he might. Zunz, who in his reverence for Krochmal went so
far as to call him the man of God, gladly accepted the task, in
which he was aided by Steinschneider. Unfortunately, the work
was published in Lemberg, a place famous for spoiling books.
Even the skill of these two great masters did not suffice to save
Krochmal's work from the fate to which all the books printed
in Lemberg seem inevitably doomed. Thus Krochmal's work is
printed on bad paper, and with faint ink; it is full of misprints and
the text is sometimes confused with the notes. A second edition
appeared in Lemberg in 1863; but, it is scarcely necessary to add,
the reprint is even worse than the original issue.
The work occupies some 350 pages, and is divided into sev-
enteen chapters. The opening six treat of Religion in general.
[061] The author first indicates the opposite dangers to which men are
liable. On the one hand, men are exposed to extravagant phantasy
(Schwärmerei), superstition and ceremonialism (Werkheiligkeit).
Some, on the other hand, in their endeavour to avoid this danger,
fall into the opposite extreme, materialism, unbelief, and moral
degeneracy as a consequence of their neglect of all law. He
proceeds to say: Even in the ritual part of religion, such as the
regulations of the Sabbath, the dietary laws and so forth, we
find abstract definitions necessary, and differences of opinions
prevalent. In the dogmatic aspects of religion, dealing as they
do with the grave subjects of metaphysics, the mystery of life
and death, the destiny of man, his relation to God, reward and
punishment, the inner meaning of the laws,—in these spiritual
31
.
69
matters, the difficulty of accurate definition must be far greater

and the opportunities for difference of opinion more frequent and
important. What guide are we to follow, seeing that every error
involves the most dangerous consequences? Shall we abandon
altogether the effort of thinking on these grave subjects? Such a
course is impossible. Do not believe, says Krochmal, that there
ever was a time when the religious man was entirely satisfied
by deeds of righteousness, as some people maintain. On the
contrary, every man, whether an independent thinker or a simple
believer, always feels the weight of these questions upon him.
Every man desires to have some ideal basis for his actions which
must constitute his real life in its noblest moments. Krochmal
here quotes a famous passage from the Midrash.32 The Torah,
according to one of our ancient sages, may be compared to two
paths, the one burning with fire, the other covered with snow. If a
man enters on the former path he will die by the heat; if he walks [062]
by the latter path he will be frozen by the snow. What, then,
must he do? He must walk in the middle, or, as we should say,
he must choose the golden mean. But, as Krochmal suggests,
the middle way in historical and philosophical doubts does not
consist, as some idle heads suppose, in a kind of compromise
between two opposing views. If one of two contending parties
declares that twice two make six, while his opponent asserts that
twice two make eight, a sort of compromise might be arrived at
by conceding that twice two make seven. But such a compromise
would be as false as either extreme; and the seeker after the
truth must revert to that mean which is the heart of all things,
independently of all factions, placing himself above them.
Having dealt with the arguments relating to the existence
of God as elaborated in the philosophical systems of his time,
32
, pl. (Midrashim), “Research,” “Researches,” a
name usually applied to the homiletical part of the Rabbinic literature. The
most important collection of this kind is the Midrash Rabbah to the Pentateuch.
The usual way of quoting it is Genesis Rabbah, Exodus Rabbah, and so on.
Krochmal leads up to his treatment of the History of Israel by

a chapter on the ideal gifts bestowed upon the various ancient
nations, which, possessed by them through many centuries, were
lost when their nationality ceased. We next come, in Chapter
VII., to the ideal gifts of Israel. These are the religious gift
and the faculty and desire for seeking the ideal of all ideals,
namely, God. But Israel, whose mission it was to propagate
this ideal, was, even as other nations, subject to natural laws;
and its history presents progress and reaction, rise and decline.
Krochmal devotes his next three chapters to showing how, in
the history of Israel, as in other histories, may be detected a
triple process. These three stages are the budding, the period
[063] of maturity, and the decay. As the history of Israel is more a
history of religion than of politics and battles, its rise and decline
correspond more or less with Israel's attachment to God, and its
falling away from Him. The decay would be associated with
the adoption of either of the extremes, the dangerous effects of
which have been already mentioned. But “through progress and
backsliding, amid infectious contact with idolatry, amid survival
of old growths of superstition, of the crude practices of the past;
amid the solicitation of new aspects of life; in material prosperity
and in material ruin,” Israel was never wholly detached from
God. In the worst times it had its judges or its prophets, its
heroes or its sages, its Rabbis or its philosophers, who strove
to bring Israel back to its mission, and who succeeded in their
efforts to do so. Even in its decay traces of the Divine spirit
made themselves felt, and revived the nation, which entered
again on a triple course and repeated its three phases. The first of
these three-fold epochs began, according to Krochmal's eighth
chapter, with the times of the Patriarchs, and ended with the
death of Gedaliah after the destruction of the first Temple. Next,
in the following two chapters, Krochmal finds the second triple
movement in the interval between the prophets of the exile in
Babylon and the death of Bar-Cochba about 135 A.C. The author
71
also hints at the existence of a third such epoch beginning with

R. Judah the Patriarch, the compiler of the Mishnah (220 A.C.),33
and ending with the expulsion of the Jews from Spain (1492).
This idea is not further developed by Krochmal; but it would be
interesting to ask, by the way, in which phase of the three-fold
process—rise, maturity, or decay—are we at the present time? [064]
The next five chapters may be regarded as an excursus on the

preceding two. Krochmal discusses the Biblical books which
belong to the period of the Exile and of the Second Temple,
such as the Second Isaiah, certain Exilic and Maccabean psalms,
Ecclesiastes, certain Apocryphal books, and the work of the Men
of the Great Synagogue. They contain, again, researches on
the various sects, such as the Assideans, Sadducees, Pharisees,
Essenes, the Gnostics, the Cabbalists and their relation to the
latter, and the Minim,34 who are mentioned in the Talmud. In
another part of this excursus Krochmal describes the systems of
the Alexandrian Jewish philosophers, such as Philo and Aristo-
bulus, and discusses their relation to certain theosophic ideas in
various Midrash-collections. The author also attempts to prove
the necessity of Tradition; he shows its first traces in the Bible,
and explains the term Sopherim (scribes); and he points out the
meaning of the phrase “A law unto Moses from Mount Sinai,”35
and similar expressions. He gives a summary of the development
of the Halachah in its different stages, the criteria by which
the older Halachahs may be discriminated; he seeks to arrive
at the origin of the Mishnah, and deals with various cognate
topics. In another discourse Krochmal endeavours to explain the
33
See above, note 12 to the Chassidim. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote on the
Tannaim and Amoraim.]
34
, “Heretics,” applied to the first Christians, and more so to
certain Gnostic sects.
35
, see below, p. 186 and note. [Transcriber's
Note: The footnote on “laws given to Moses on Sinai.”]
term Agadah,36 its origin and development; the different kinds

of Agadah and their relative value. Chapter XVI. contains the
Prolegomena to a philosophy of the Jewish religion in accor-
dance with the principles laid down by Hegel. In the seventeenth
and last chapter the author gives a general introduction to the
Philosophy of Ibn Ezra, and quotes illustrative extracts.
[065] The space of an essay does not permit me to give further
details of Krochmal's book. I am conscious that the preceding
outline is deficient in quality as well as in quantity. Yet, even
from this meagre abstract, the reader will gather that Krochmal
reviews many of the great problems which concern religion in
general and Judaism in particular. Zunz somewhere remarks that
Krochmal was inspired in his work by the study of Hegel, just
as Maimonides had been by the study of Aristotle. I give this
statement solely on the authority of Zunz, as I myself have never
made a study of the works of the German philosopher, and am
therefore unable to express an opinion on the question.
Now there is no doubt that Krochmal's book is not without
defects. The materials are not always well arranged, there is at
times a want of proportion in the length at which the various
points are treated, and the author occasionally seems to wander
from the subject in hand. But we shall be better able to account
for these and similar technical faults, as well as to appreciate the
real value of the author's work, if we consider the following fact.
Nachman Krochmal's object was to elaborate a philosophy of
Jewish history, to trace the leading ideas that ran through it, and
the ultimate causes that led to its various phases. But, unfortu-
36
or — , “rule,” “method,”—“narrative.” The
former deals with the legal side of the Scriptures, and is thus more of a juristic
nature; the latter represents a collection of homilies having mostly as their text
the historical and exhortatory parts of the Bible, and is thus more of an edifying
character. The theological side of Judaism, as well as its ideal aspirations and
Messianic hopes, find their expression in the Agadah. The two words are also
used as adjectives, as Halachic (legalistic, juristic, and obligatory) and Agadic
(poetic, edifying, and hyperbolic).
73
nately, at the time when Krochmal began to write, there did not
exist a Jewish history at all. The labours of Zunz were conducted
in an altogether different field. Not to mention the names of the
younger scholars then unborn, Graetz, the author of the History
of the Jews, and Weiss, who wrote a history of the Tradition,
were still studying at college. Frankel's masterly essays on the
Essenes and the Septuagint, his well-known work, Introduction
to the Mishnah, and the results of Geiger's most interesting and [066]
suggestive researches on the older and later Halachah, and on the
Pharisees and Sadducees, had yet to be written. Rapoport's great
treatise, Erech Millin,37 had not been published at that time, and
Steinschneider was not yet working at his historical sketch of
Jewish literature. It was not till six years after Krochmal's death
(viz. in 1846) that Landauer's memorable studies on the Jewish
mystics were given to the world. Even the bad books of Julius
Fürst, such as his History of the Canon, and his still worse History
of Jewish Literature in Babylon, were then unwritten. Neither
the most charlatanic History of the Opinions and Teachings of
All the Jewish Sects, by Peter Beer, the universal provider, nor
Jost's most honest but narrow-minded and superficial History of
the Jews, was of much use to Krochmal. Jost's more scholarly
works were not published till long afterwards. Krochmal was
thus without the guidance of those authorities to which we are
now accustomed to turn for information. Excepting the aid that
he derived from the writings of Azariah de Rossi,38 Krochmal
was therefore compelled to prosecute all the necessary research
for himself; he had to establish the facts of Jewish history as
well as to philosophise upon them. Hence, in the very midst
37
, a sort of encyclopædia to the Talmud, of which only the
first letter appeared.
38
Menahem Azariah de Rossi, an Italian Jew who flourished in the first half
of the sixteenth century. His great work, , Meor Enayim,
“Light of the Eyes,” is the first attempt made by a Jew to submit the statements
of the Talmud to a critical examination, and to question the value of tradition
in its historical records.
of his philosophical analysis, the author was bound to introduce

digressions on historical subjects, in order to justify as well as
to form the basis of that analysis. He had to survey the ground
and to collect the materials, besides constructing the plan of the
edifice and working at its erection. Nevertheless, it is precisely
for these historical excursuses that Krochmal has deserved the
gratitude of posterity. He it was who taught Jewish scholars how
[067] to submit the ancient Rabbinic records to the test of criticism
and the way in which they might be utilised for the purpose
of historical studies; he it was who enabled them to trace the
genesis of the tradition, and to watch the inner germination of
that vast organism. He even indicated to them how they might
continue to connect their own lives with it, how they might
derive nourishment from it, and in their turn further its growth.
I may assert with the utmost confidence that there is scarcely a
single page in Krochmal's book that did not afterwards give birth
to some essay or monograph or even elaborate treatise, though
their authors were not always very careful about mentioning the
source of their inspiration. Thus Krochmal justly deserves the
honourable title assigned to him by one of our greatest historians,
who terms him the Father of Jewish Science.
So far, I have been speaking of the importance of Krochmal's
treatise and of its significance in the region of Jewish Science.
It is necessary, I think, to add a few words with regard to the
general tendency of his whole work. I have already alluded to
the characteristic modesty of Krochmal; I have pointed out how
little he cared for publicity, how dearly he loved retirement. The
question accordingly presents itself—What can have been the
real and sufficient causes that prevailed upon him to yield to the
solicitations of his friends and to write upon what the Talmud
would term “matters standing on the heights of the world”?
The answer to this question may, I think, be found in the title
of Krochmal's book, the Guide of the Perplexed of the Time. It is
indeed a rather unusual coincidence for the title of a Hebrew book
75
to have any connection with its subject matter. The same merit [068]
is possessed by the Guide of the Perplexed of Maimonides, the
title of which undoubtedly suggested that of Krochmal's treatise.
There is, however, one little addition in Krochmal's title that
contains a most important lesson for us. I mean the words “of the
Time.” By these words Krochmal reminds us that, great as are
the merits of the immortal work of Maimonides—and it would
be difficult to exaggerate its value and importance—still it will
no longer suffice for us. For, as Krochmal himself remarks,
every time has its own perplexities, and therefore needs its own
guide. In order to show that these words are no idle phrase, I
shall endeavour to illustrate them by one example at least. In the
Guide of the Perplexed of Maimonides, Part II., Chapter XXVI.,
occurs a passage which runs thus: “In the famous chapters known
as the ‘Chapters of R. Eliezer the Great,’39 I find R. Eliezer the
Great saying something more extraordinary than I have ever seen
in the utterances of any believer in the Law of Moses. I refer to
the following passage: ‘Whence were the heavens created? He
(God) took part of the light of His garment, He stretched it like
a cloth, and thus the heavens were extending continually, as it
is said (Ps. civ. 2): He covereth Himself with light as with a
garment, He stretcheth the heavens like a curtain. Whence was
the earth created? He took of the snow under the throne of glory,
and threw it; according to the words (in Job xxxvii. 6), He said
to the snow be thou earth.’ These are the words given there (in
the ‘Chapters of R. Eliezer the Great’), and I, in my surprise, ask,
What was the belief of this sage? Did he think it impossible that [069]
something be produced from nothing?... If the terms ‘the light
of His garment’ and the ‘snow of glory’ mean something eternal
(as matter) they must be rejected.... In short, it is a passage
that greatly confuses the notions of all intelligent and religious
persons. I am unable to explain it sufficiently.”
39
.
So far Maimonides; and we are quite able to conceive his per-

plexity in dealing with this passage. On one side, Maimonides
himself believed that Judaism is a dogmatic religion, and that
one of its dogmas is the principle of Creatio ex nihilo. On the
other side, he found R. Eliezer—one of the greatest authorities
of the early part of the second century—apparently denying this
dogma. The perplexity was indeed a serious one for Maimonides,
but we find no difficulty whatever in extricating ourselves from
it. In the first place, there are many who cling to the theory
which holds that there are no dogmas in Judaism at all, and to
them Maimonides' difficulty would have no relevance. Secondly,
those who believe that there are dogmas in Judaism may regard
such expressions as those quoted above from the “Chapters of
R. Eliezer” in the light of mere poetical metaphors, or may call
them fairy tales or legends, or include them in some other section
of literature, known under the name of folklore, which is an
excuse for every absurdity, the fortunate authors of which are
responsible neither to philosophy nor to religion, and sometimes
not even to common sense. But there is a third consideration
that affords the best solution of the difficulty. The “Chapters of
R. Eliezer,” despite their pompous title, are not the work of R.
Eliezer at all. Criticism has taught us to attach no importance
to the heading of a chapter or the title-page of a book. We are
[070] now in a position to judge from the tone, style, and contents
of the work, that the “Chapters of R. Eliezer” is a later compi-
lation of the eighth century, and that its author could not have
been R. Eliezer, the teacher of R. Akiba, in the second century.
In this way, these particular difficulties of Maimonides solve
themselves for us in a sufficiently easy way. But it is just these
solutions that open up new difficulties and perplexities which
did not exist for the generation of the great Spanish philosopher.
Suppose that we accept the view that Judaism is not a dogmatic
religion. But how are we to conceive a religion without dogmas,
or, if you prefer the expression, without principles or bases of
77
belief? Or is Judaism, as some platitudinarians think, a mere

national institute with some useful dietary and sanitary laws, but
with nothing that makes for the sanctification of man, with no
guidance to offer us in the great problems of our life, and in the
greatest anxieties of the human soul? On the other hand, granted
that we may consider certain things as mere legend, how are we
to discriminate between these and the things that must be taken
seriously? Does it depend on the nature of the subject, or on
the position of the book in the canon of Hebrew literature? In
the thirteenth century symbolical meanings were given to certain
difficult passages in the Talmud; but the process was carried fur-
ther, and the Biblical narratives were subjected by philosophers
to a like treatment. R. Solomon ben Adereth and his colleagues
(in the thirteenth century) settled the question by indiscriminately
excommunicating all young men who should study philosophy;
but this method is scarcely one to be commended for present use.
The third, or the philological solution of difficulties, leads to [071]
fresh troubles. A hundred years ago men were in that happy state
of mind in which they knew everything. They knew the exact
author and date of every Psalm; they knew the author of each and
every ancient Midrash; they knew the originator of every law and
ordinance; they even knew the writer of the Zohar, and of other
mystical books. There were certainly a few who did not know
all these things, among them Ibn Ezra, Azariah de Rossi, and the
two Delmedigos.40 But they were merely a miserable historical
blunder, men who had no right to be born when they were. But
the philological method has swept away all this knowingness as
by a deluge from heaven, and men find that they know nothing.
True, there linger on a few who still know all these things, but it
is they who are now the anachronism. These, and such as these,
40
Italian Jews of the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries. The one, Elijah
Delmedigo, wrote an Examination of Religion, whilst his grandson, Joseph
Solomon Delmedigo, wrote various pamphlets of a deeply sceptical character.
See Geiger's Introduction to his Melo Chofnayim (Berlin, 1840).
are the perplexities of our time, to the resolution of which the

labours of Krochmal and of a noble band of scholars have been
directed in this century.
Have these perplexities, we must ask, and these puzzles been
solved by Krochmal and his coadjutors? We may with all cer-
tainty answer: They have only pointed out the way, it is for
ourselves to proceed by it. It would be unreasonable to expect
that difficulties which have been accumulating during the course
of thousands of years should be solved by the men of one or two
generations. Again, we live in a century in which excavations and
discoveries in other fields have added at once to our knowledge
and to our uncertainty. Each country, we might almost say, over
and above the perplexities that trouble mankind in general, has
its own special difficulties which are entirely unknown to those
who dwell outside its frontiers. I am not disposed to discuss these
[072] difficulties in this place. Nor have I the ability to do so. But
of two things I am perfectly certain: the first is, that for a solu-
tion of these difficulties which, in the language of Maimonides,
“confuse the notions of all intelligent and religious persons,”
the only hope is in true knowledge and not in ignorance; and
secondly, this knowledge can only be obtained by a combination
of the utmost reverence for religion and the deepest devotion
to truth. The poor old Rabbis who have been so foully decried
by their calumniators as hedonists, and so foolishly praised by
sorry apologists as materialistic optimists, strongly insisted that
when a man woos the truth, his suit can only prosper if he is
influenced by the purest and most single-hearted affection. “A
man,” says the Siphré, “must not say: ‘I will study the Torah in
order that I may attain the title of Rabbi or savant, or that I may
become rich by it, or that I may be rewarded for it in the world to
come.’ He must study for love's sake.” Such a knowledge, which
is free from all taint of worldliness and of other-worldliness, a
knowledge sought simply and solely for pure love of God, who
is Truth,—such a knowledge is in the highest sense a saving
79
knowledge, and Nachman Krochmal was in possession of it.
[073]
III. Rabbi Elijah Wilna, Gaon
The three great stars of German literature are usually charac-
terised by German scholars in the following way: Goethe they
say represents the beautiful, Schiller the ideal, while Lessing rep-
resents truth. I think that we may apply the same characteristics
to the three great luminaries, with which the Jewish middle ages
ceased—for as Zunz somewhere remarked, the Jewish middle
ages lasted till the beginning of the eighteenth century—and the
modern age of Judaism opened. I am thinking of Mendelssohn in
Germany, Israel Baalshem, the founder of the sect of the Chas-
sidim in Podolia, and Elijah Wilna, or as he is more frequently
called, the Gaon,41 the Great One, in Lithuania.
As to Mendelssohn, enough, and perhaps more than enough,
has already been written and spoken about his merits in awak-
ening the sense for the beautiful and the harmonious which was
almost entirely dormant among the Jews of his age. In regard
to the second, namely, Israel Baalshem, I have only to refer the
reader to the first essay in this volume. The subject of the present
essay will be R. Elijah Wilna, who, among the Jews, as Lessing
among the Germans, represented truth, both by his life and by
[074] his literary activity.
I say that the Gaon represented truth, but these words must be
taken cum grano salis. For I do not mean at all to say that he was
in possession of the whole truth, still less in exclusive possession
of it. It is true as we shall learn in the course of this essay, that
the Gaon was a genius of the first order. But there are matters of
41
, “The Great One.” The authorities of the Babylonian schools
after the sixth century were also called the Gaonim ( ), “[their]
Eminences.” The title was also given afterwards to great Rabbis distinguished
for their learning.
III. Rabbi Elijah Wilna, Gaon 81
truth, the obtaining of which cannot be accomplished by genius

alone. R. Elijah Wilna did not know any other language than
Hebrew. Truths, therefore, which are only to be reached through
the medium of other languages, remained a secret to him. Again,
records of ancient times which are buried in the shelves of remote
libraries or under the ruins of past civilisations are not always
a matter of intuition. Even the most gifted of men have to wait
patiently till these are brought to light by the aid of spade and
shovel, or the pen of some obscure copyist. But R. Elijah lived
at a time when excavation had as yet done very little for Semitic
studies, and when a Jew scarcely got admittance into the great
libraries of Europe. Thus much truth which we get now in a very
easy way was beyond this seer's eye.
But even if all the libraries on earth had been at his disposal,
even if he had read all the cuneiform writings which ornament
the British Museum, and had deciphered all the Hieroglyphics
which the Louvre possesses, even in that case we should not
be justified in terming him a representative of the truth, without
qualifying our words.
“Truth,” said the old Rabbis, “is the Seal of the Holy One,
praised be He.” But Heaven has no Lord Chancellor. Neither
men nor angels are trusted with the great Seal. They are only
allowed to catch a glimpse of it, or rather to long after this
glimpse. However, even the longing and effort for this glimpse [075]
will bring man into communion with God, and make his life
divine. And the life of the Gaon was, as we shall see, one long
effort and unceasing longing after the truth.
Again, if I say that the Gaon represented truth, you must
not think that he lacked the two other qualities. A life entirely
devoted to such a great cause as that of seeking the truth is,
ipso facto, ideal and harmonious. It is only in his influence
on Judaism—more particularly on the Jews in the North of Eu-
rope—that this feature in his life becomes more prominent than
his other admirable qualities.
In what this truth consisted, how the Gaon arrived at it, and by
what means he conveyed it to others, we shall see in the course
of this essay.
R. Elijah was born at Wilna in the year 1720. His father,
Solomon Wilna, is called by his biographers the great Rabbi
Solomon, and is said to have been the descendant of R. Moses
Rivkas, the author of a learned work, containing notes to the
Code of the Law by R. Joseph Caro.42
Having quoted the biographers, I must point out that there
are only two biographies of the Gaon: the one by Finn, in his
book Faithful City,43 on the celebrities of Wilna, the other by
Nachman of Horodna, in his book Ascension of Elijah.44 The
former is a very honest account of the Gaon's life, but a little too
short. The latter is too long, or rather too much intermixed with
that sort of absurd legend, the authors of which are incapable of
marking the line which separates the monster from the hero.
Even in the region of imagination we must not for a moment
[076] forget the good advice given to us by one of our greatest scholars
who had to deal with a kindred subject: “He,” says this scholar,
“who banishes the thought of higher and lower from his study,
degrades it into a mere means of gratifying his curiosity, and
disqualifies it for the lofty task which it is called upon to perform
for modern society.” We shall thus cling to the higher and stop
at the hero.
Our hero was the first-born of five brothers. They were all
famous men in their little world. According to the tradition in
Wilna, Elijah was a lovely child, with beautiful eyes, and goodly
to look at, or as it is expressed in another place, “as beautiful as
42
R. Joseph Caro (1488-1575) lived in Safed. The title of his code is
, Prepared Table. This is a code of the Oral Law compiled
from the Rabbinic literature.
43
, containing an account of the Jewish worthies of that
city.
44
.
an angel!” The tradition, or rather the legend, relates that as a

child of six years he was already the pupil of R. Moses Margalith,
the famous author of a commentary on the Talmud of Jerusalem.
At the age of seven years he is said to have already perplexed
the Chief Rabbi of his native town by his controversial skill in
Talmudical subjects. At the early age of nine he was acquainted
with the contents of the Bible, the Mishnah, the Talmud and
its ancient commentaries; and even the Cabbalistic works of R.
Isaac Loria were no secret to the youthful scholar.45 At the age
of twelve years he is said to have acquired the seven liberal arts,
and to have puzzled the scholars of Wilna by his astronomical
knowledge. At thirteen, when according to Jewish law he attained
his majority, he was already the accomplished or “the great one”
(Gaon); so far tradition. I am afraid that tradition is here, against
all experience, too exact in its dates. But we may learn from it
that the child Elijah showed many signs of the future Gaon, and
was therefore considered as the prodigy of his age. Again it is
likewise pretty certain that no man could boast of having been
the master of Elijah. He was not the product of any school, [077]
nor was he biassed by the many prejudices of his time. He was
allowed to walk his own way in his struggle after truth.
It is rather an unfortunate thing that history is so much made
up of parallels and contrasts that the historian or even the bi-
ographer cannot possibly point out the greatness of some men
without touching, however slightly, on the smallness of others.
It is only natural that every strong shining object should push the
minor lights of its surroundings into the background and darken
them. Thus, when we are speaking of the superiority of the
Gaon, we cannot escape hinting at least at the shortcomings of
his contemporaries, as well as of his predecessors.
To indicate briefly in what this superiority consisted, I will
premise here a few words from a Responsum by one of his great
45
A famous mystic of the sixteenth century, from Safed, who was the more
admired the less his pupils understood him.
predecessors, the Gaon Rabbi Hai.46 Consulted by a student as

to the meaning of certain mystical passages in the tractate Chagi-
gah,47 Rabbi Hai, in warning his correspondent not to expect
from him a long philosophical dissertation, writes as follows:
“Know that it never was our business to palliate matters and
explain them in a way of which the author never could have
thought. This is fashionable with other people, but our method
is to explain the words of this or that authority in accordance
with his own meaning. We do not pledge ourselves that this
meaning is ‘right rule’ in itself, for there do exist statements
made by the old authorities that cannot be accepted as norm.”
Thus far the words of the Gaon of the tenth century, which speak
volumes. The Gaon of the eighteenth century followed the same
[078] course. All his efforts were directed to this point; namely, to
find out the true meaning of the Mishnah, the true meaning of the
Gemara,48 the true meaning of the Gaonim, the true meaning of
the great codifiers, and the true meaning of the commentators on
the ancient Rabbinical literature. Whether this meaning would be
acceptable to us mattered very little to him. His only object was
to understand the words of his predecessors, and this he obtained,
as we shall soon see, by the best critical means. This was the
method of the Gaon; that of other scholars (at least of the great
majority) was dictated by entirely different considerations. They
would not suffer the idea that the great man could be wrong at
times. To them, all that he said was “right rule.” Now suppose a
great author like Maimonides had overlooked an important pas-
sage in the Talmud or any other statement by a great authority,
46
Hai was the last of the authorities called Gaon. With his death (1038) the
schools of Babylon fell into decay and soon disappeared.
47
, treating of the voluntary offerings brought by the pilgrims to
Jerusalem.
48
, “Perfection or Supplementary Explanations.” By this is under-
stood the interpretation given to the Mishnah by the schools in Palestine and
Babylon. See above, note 12 to the Chassidim. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote
on the Tannaim and Amoraim.]
the alternative remaining to them was either to explain away the

passage of the Talmud or to give the words of Maimonides a
strange meaning. This led originally to the famous method of the
Pilpul (casuistry), a kind of spiritual gymnastic, which R. Liva
of Prague in the sixteenth century, and many others condemned
as most pernicious to Judaism and leading to the decay of the
study of the Torah.
Now it is beyond doubt that the method of the two Gaonim is
the only right one. But, in justice to the casuistic school, which
includes many a great name, it is only right to remember that this
impartiality towards acknowledged authorities as maintained by
our hero is not at all such an easy matter as we imagine. We quote
often with great satisfaction the famous saying, Amicus Plato,
amicus Socrates, sed magis amica veritas, “Plato is our friend, [079]
so is Socrates, but Truth is, or rather ought to be, our greatest
friend.” This sounds very nicely, but let us only realise what
difficulties it involves. To be a friend of Socrates or Plato means
to know them, or in other words to have a thorough knowledge of
the writings of the one and the recorded utterances of the other.
But such a knowledge can with most men only be obtained by
devoting one's whole life to the study of their works, so that there
is not left much time for new friendships. And the few who are
able to save a few years after long wanderings with these Greek
philosophers, seldom see the necessity of new friendships. For
what else did those long courtships of Plato or Aristotle mean
except that those who conducted them thought that thereby they
would wed Truth?
This impartiality is the more difficult when these friends are
invested with a kind of religious authority where humility and
submission are most important factors. The history of Lanfranc,
the predecessor of Anselm of Canterbury, gives a striking ex-
ample of what this submission meant in the Middle Ages. One
day, we are told, when he was still an ordinary monk, he was
reading at the table and pronounced a word as it ought to be
pronounced, but not as seemed right to the person presiding, who

bade him say it differently; “as if he had said doc re, with the
middle syllable long, as is right, and the other had corrected it
into doc re, with the middle short, which is wrong; for that Prior
was not a scholar. But the wise man, knowing that he owed
obedience rather to Christ than to Donatus, the grammarian, gave
up his pronunciation, and said what he was wrongly told to say;
for to make a short syllable long, or a long one short, he knew
[080] to be no deadly sin, but not to obey one set over him in God's
behalf was no light transgression.”49
But this admiration—and here we turn again to the
Gaon—must not prevent us from believing that Providence
is not confined to such ungrammatical Priors, and that the men
who are really working on behalf of God are those who teach us
to pronounce rightly, and to think rightly, and to take matters as
they are, not as we desire them to be on account of our friends.
As for the critical means to which I have alluded, the Gaon
himself said somewhere that simplicity is the best criterion of
truth, and this is the most characteristic feature of all his literary
career. The Gaon studied Hebrew grammar in order to obtain a
clear notion of the language in which the Scriptures are written.
He tried to attain to the knowledge of the Bible by reading the
Bible itself; and was not satisfied to become acquainted with its
contents from the numerous quotations which are made from it in
Rabbinical literature. Again, he studied mathematics, astronomy,
and philosophy, as far as they could be found in Hebrew books.
Certainly the Gaon did not study these subjects for their own
sake, and they were considered by him only as a means to the
end, or as the phrase goes, as the “hand-maidens” of Theology,
the queen of all sciences. But it may be looked upon as a mark
of great progress in an age when Queen Theology had become
rather sulky, continually finding fault with her hand-maidens,
49
See Dean Church's St. Anselm, from which this story is taken.
and stigmatising every attention paid to them as conducive to

disloyalty. To these accusations the Gaon answered that Queen
Theology does not study her own interests. Knowledge of all
arts and sciences, the Gaon maintained, is necessary for the real [081]
understanding of the Torah which embraces the whole of them.
From his own writings it is evident that he himself was familiar
with Euclid, and his Ayil Meshulash contains several original
developments of Euclid. It was at his suggestion that a certain
Baruch of Sclow translated Euclid into the Hebrew language.
Another way which led the Gaon to the discovery of many
truths was his study of the pre-Talmudic literature, and of the
Jerusalem Talmud. By some accident or other it came to pass that
only the Babylonian Talmud was recognised as a guide in the
practices of religious life. As the great teachers and their pupils
cared more for satisfying the religious wants of their flocks than
for theoretic researches, the consequence was that a most impor-
tant part of the ancient Rabbinic literature was almost entirely
neglected by them for many centuries. And it was certainly no
exaggeration, when R. Elijah said that even the Gaonim and
Maimonides, occupied as they were with the practical part of the
law, did not pay sufficient attention to the Talmud of Jerusalem
and the Tosephta.50 The Gaon was no official head of any Jewish
community, and was but little troubled by decisions of questions
which concern daily life. He was thus in a position to leave for
a little while the Babylonian Talmud and to become acquainted
with the guides of the guide. I refer to Siphra, Siphré, Mechilta,
Tosephta, the Seder Olam,51 the Minor Tractates,52 and above all
50
, “Addition” (to the Mishnah), but also containing only the
sayings and discussions of the period of the Tannaim.
51
, “Order of the World,” dealing with the Chronology of
the Bible, and dating from about the end of the second century.
52
These “Minor Tractates” include, among others, treatises on proselytes, on
the laws concerning funerals, the writing of the Law, and the like. Others are
more of an edifying nature, treating of good manners, conduct, etc.
the Talmud of Jerusalem, which, regarded from an historical and

critical point of view, is even of more importance than its Baby-
lonian twin-brother. But by this means there came a new light
upon the whole of ancient Rabbinic literature. The words of the
[082] Torah, the Midrash says, are poor in one place, but we shall find
them rich in another place. The Gaon by his acquaintance with
the whole of the Torah had no difficulty whatever in discovering
the rich places. If there was a difficult passage in this or that
Tractate, he showed, by giving a reference to some other place,
that it was wanting in some words or lines. Obscure passages
in the Mishnah he tried to elucidate by parallel passages in the
Tosephta. The too complicated controversies of the Babylonian
Talmud he tried to explain by comparing them with the more
ancient and more simple Talmud of Jerusalem.
There is little to be told of the Gaon's private affairs. Even the
date of his marriage with a certain Miss Anna of Kaidon is not
mentioned by his biographers. But it may be taken for granted
that, in accordance with the custom in Poland, he married at a
very early age, say about eighteen years. It was also when a
young man that he travelled for some years through Poland and
Germany. It is rather difficult to say what his object may have
been in making these travels—for the Gaon was not the man to
travel for pleasure's sake. Perhaps it was to become acquainted
with the great Rabbis of these countries. It is also possible, as
others maintain, that the Gaon considered the many privations
which a traveller had to endure a hundred and fifty years ago,
as an atonement for his imaginary sins. Indeed we find in many
ascetic books that travelling, or as they term it “receiving upon
oneself to be banished into the exile,”53 is recommended as a
very successful substitute for penance. At least it seems that the
coachmen whom the Gaon employed on his journeys looked at
[083] it from this point of view. One of them went so far in adding to
53
.
the privations of the Gaon as to run away with his carriage when
the Rabbi alighted from it in order to read his prayers. But the
reading of the Eighteen Benedictions54 must not be interrupted
excepting in the case of danger; and the Gaon did not consider it
very dangerous to be left without money and without luggage.
These travels ended in the year 1745. The Gaon left Wilna
again at a later date with the purpose of going to Palestine and
settling there. But he found so many obstacles on his way that he
was soon compelled to give up his favourite plan and to return to
his native town. It is not known whether he left Wilna again.
The position which the Gaon occupied in Wilna was, as al-
ready hinted, that of a private man. He could never be prevailed
upon to accept the post of Rabbi or any other office in a Jewish
community. I am unable to give the reason for his declining all
the offers made to him in this direction. But it may be suggested
here that it was in the time of the Gaon that there arose a bitter
struggle between the Rabbi and the Jewish wardens of his native
town, which ended in the abolition of the office of Rabbi. The
history of the struggle is the more irritating, as it arose from
the pettiest reasons imaginable. People actually discovered that
there was no light in the house of the Rabbi after the middle of
the night, which fact might lead to the conclusion that he did
not study later than 12 o'clock P.M. What an idle man! And this
idleness was the less pardonable in the eyes of the community,
as the Rabbi's wife was so unfortunate as not to have been polite
enough to some Mrs. Warden. Under such circumstances we
must not wonder if the Gaon did not find it very desirable to
meddle with congregational affairs in an official capacity. The [084]
relation of the Gaon to his contemporaries resembles rather the
position in the olden times of a Tanna or Amora,55 See above,
54
, “Eighteen.” They are recited thrice a day, and form
the original germ of the prayers, from which a very rich liturgy developed in
the course of time.
55
The titles of the old authorities from 70 B.C.{FNS to 500 A.C.{FNS
note 12 to the Chassidim. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote on the

Tannaim and Amoraim.]
who neither enjoyed the title of Nasin or that of Ab Beth Din.56
Like R. Akiba, or Mar Samuel, the Gaon became influential
among his contemporaries only by his teaching and his exem-
plary life.
It must be said in praise of the Jews of Wilna that, notwith-
standing their petty behaviour towards their ecclesiastical chief,
they willingly submitted to the authority of the Gaon (who was
devoid of all official authority). They revered him as a saint. To
converse with the Gaon was considered as a happy event in the
life of a Jew in Wilna, to be of any use to him as the greatest
distinction a man could attain on earth. But what is remarkable is
the readiness with which even scholars acknowledged the author-
ity of the Gaon. Scholars are usually more slow in recognising
greatness than simple mortals. Every new luminary does not only
outshine their minor lights and thus hurt their personal vanity, but
it threatens also sometimes to obscure certain traditions which
they wish to keep prominently in view. But the literary genius of
the Gaon was too great to be opposed with success, and his piety
and devotion to religion far above suspicion. Thus the Gaon was
very soon recognised by his contemporaries as their master and
guide; not only in literary questions, but also in matters of belief
and conduct.
It would lead me too far to name here all the Gaon's disciples.
It seems as if all the great scholars in his country considered
themselves to be more or less his pupils. The Gaon used to give
in the Beth Hammidrash, which he founded, public lectures on
various subjects, and the students who attended these lectures al-
[085] so claimed the honour of being called his pupils. I shall mention
here only his greatest disciple, R. Chayim Walosin, who, after
the Gaon, influenced his countrymen more than any other scholar
56
, , “Prince,” or “Patriarch,” religious head, of
the Jews (not political), and “Father (or president) of the Court of Justice.”
of that time. This R. Chayim also did not occupy any official post
among his brethren. He was a cloth manufacturer by profession,
and was very prosperous in his business. But it did not prevent
him from being devoted to Hebrew literature, and he enjoyed a
wide-spread fame as a great scholar. But as soon as the fame of
the Gaon reached him, he left cloth manufactory and scholarship
behind, and went to Wilna to “learn Torah” from the mouth of
the great master. It must be noticed that even the giving up of
his claim to scholarship was no little sacrifice. All our learning,
said some scholar in Wilna, disappeared as soon as we crossed
the threshold of the Gaon's house. He made every disciple who
came into close contact with him begin at the beginning. He
taught them Hebrew grammar, Bible, Mishnah, and many other
subjects, which were, as already mentioned, very often neglected
by the Talmudists of that time. R. Chayim had also to go through
all this course. Some would have considered such treatment a
degradation. R. Chayim, however, became the more attached to
his master for it.
In such a way the life of the Gaon was spent, studying by
himself or teaching his pupils. It must be understood that to learn
Torah meant for the Gaon more than mere brain work for the
purpose of gaining knowledge. To him it was a kind of service to
God. Contemporaries who watched him when he was studying
the Torah observed that the effect wrought on the personality of
the Gaon was the same as when he was praying. With every word
his countenance flushed with joy; with every line he was gaining
strength for proceeding further. Only by looking at matters from [086]
this point of view shall we be able to understand the devotion
and the love of the Gaon for study.
There has been, no doubt, among the Russian Jews a strong
tendency to exaggerate the intellectual qualities of the Gaon.
But one can readily excuse such a tendency. He was gifted by
nature with such a wonderful memory that, having read a book
once, he was able to recite it by heart for the rest of his life.
Not less admirable was his sure grasp. The most complicated
controversies in the Talmud, into which other scholars would
require whole days and weeks to find their way, the Gaon was
able to read by a glance at the pages. Already as a boy he is said
to have gone through in a single night the tractates Zebachim and
Menachoth,57 containing not less than two hundred and thirty
pages, the contents of which are sometimes so difficult as to make
even an aged scholar despair of understanding them. Again, he
possessed so much common-sense that all the intellectual tricks
of the casuistic schools did not exist for him. And nevertheless his
biographers tell us that he was so much occupied by his studies,
that he could not spare more than one hour and a half for sleep
out of twenty-four hours. This is, no doubt, an exaggeration. But
let us say five hours a day. He had not time to take his meals
regularly. He used also, according to tradition, to repeat every
chapter in the Bible, every passage in the Talmud, hundreds of
times, even if they presented no difficulty at all. But it was, as
already said, a matter of love for the Gaon; of love, not of passing
affection.
Nothing on earth could be more despicable to the Gaon than
[087] amateurs who dabble with ancient literature. To understand a
thing clearly made him happy. He is said to have spent more
than six months on a single Mishnah in the tractate Kilayim,58
and felt himself the happiest man when he succeeded in grasping
its real meaning. Not to be able to go into the depth of a subject,
to miss the truth embedded in a single passage, caused him the
most bitter grief. A story told by his pupil, R. Chayim, may
illustrate this fact. One Friday, narrates R. Chayim, the servant
of the Gaon came to him with the message that his master wanted
to see him as soon as possible. R. Chayim went instantly. When
57
, , “Sacrifices,” “Offerings.” They treat of the laws
relating to sacrifices and meal-offerings.
58
, the laws relating to diverse seeds and garments of diverse
sorts. Cf. Deut. xxii. 9-11.
he came into the house, he found the Gaon lying in bed with
a bandage on his head and looking very ill. The wife of the
Gaon also reported to him that it was more than three days since
her husband had taken any food, and that he had hardly enjoyed
any sleep all this time. All this misery was caused by reason of
not having been able to understand some difficult passages in
the Talmud of Jerusalem. The Gaon now asked his disciples to
resume with him their researches. Heaven, he said, might have
mercy upon them and open their eyes, for it is written, “Two are
better than one”: and lo! Heaven did have mercy on them; they
succeeded in getting the true meaning of the passage. The Gaon
recovered instantly, and master and disciple had a very joyful
Sabbath.
He is also reported to have said on one occasion, he would
not like to have an angel for his teacher who would reveal to
him all the mysteries of the Torah. Such a condition is only
befitting the world to come, but in this world only things which
are acquired by hard labour and great struggle are of any value.
The German representative of truth expressed the same thought
in other words, which are well worth repeating here: “Did [088]
the Almighty,” says Lessing, “holding in His right hand Truth
and in His left Search after Truth, deign to tender me the one
I might prefer, in all humility and without hesitation I should
select Search after Truth.”
This absorption of all his being in the study of the Torah may
also, I think, account for the fact that his biographers have so
little to say about the family of the Gaon. Of his wife, we know
only that she died in the year 1783. Not much fuller is our
knowledge about his children. The biographers speak of them as
of the family “which the Lord has blessed,” referring to his two
sons, Rabbi Aryeh Leb and Rabbi Abraham, who were known as
great scholars and very pious men. The latter one is best known
by his edition of a collection of smaller Midrashim. Mention
is also made of the Gaon's sons-in-law, especially one Rabbi
Moses of Pinsk. But this is all, and we are told nothing either
about their lives or their callings. From his famous letter which
he sent to his family when on his way to Palestine, we see that
he was rather what one may call a severe father. He bids his wife
punish his children most severely for swearing, scolding, and
speaking untruth. He also advises her to live as retired a life as
possible. Retirement he considers as a condition sine qua non for
a religious life. He even advises his daughter to read her prayers
at home, for in the synagogue she may get envious of the finer
dresses of her friends, which is a most terrible sin. The only tender
feature in this letter is perhaps where he implores his wife to be
kind to his mother on account of her being a widow, and it were
a great sin to cause her the least annoyance. From other passages
[089] we may gather that his family had at times to suffer hunger and
cold by the excessive occupation of their father with the study of
the Torah and other religious works. In short, the Gaon was a
one-sided, severe ascetic, and would never have deserved the title
of a good father, a good husband, an amiable man or any other
appellation derived from those ordinary “household decencies”
which, as Macaulay informs us, half of the tombstones claim
for those who lie behind them. But I am very much afraid that
many a great man who has made his mark in history could never
claim these household virtues as his own. I do not want to enter
here into the question whether Judaism be an ascetic religion or
not. But even those who think Judaism identical with what is
called “making the best of this life,” will not dispute the fact
that Jewish literature contains within it enough ascetic elements
to justify the conduct of our greatest men whose lives were one
long-continued self-denial and privation. “The Torah,” says the
Talmud, “cannot be obtained unless a man is prepared to give
his life for it,” or as the Talmud puts it, in another place, “if it
be thy desire not to die, cease to live before thou diest.” This
was the principle by which the Gaon's life was actuated. And as
he did not spare himself, he could not spare others. We could
not expect him to act differently. The Scriptures tell us: “Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” But how is it with the man
who never loved himself, who never gave a thought to himself,
who never lived for himself, but only for what he considered to
be his duty and his mission from God on earth? Such a man
we cannot expect to spend his time on coaxing and caressing
us. As to the charge of one-sidedness at which I have hinted,
if the giving up of everything else for the purpose of devoting [090]
oneself to a scholarly and saintly life is one-sidedness, the Gaon
must certainly bear this charge; but in a world where there are so
many on the other side, we ought, I think, to be only too grateful
to Providence for sending us from time to time great and strong
one-sided men, who, by their counterbalancing influence, bring
God's spoilt world to a certain equilibrium again. To appease
my more tender readers, I should like only to say that there is no
occasion at all for pitying Mrs. Gaon. It would be a miserable
world indeed if a good digestion and stupidity were, as a certain
author maintained, the only conditions of happiness. Saints are
happy in their sufferings, and noble souls find their happiness in
sacrificing themselves for these sufferers.
Another severe feature in the life of the Gaon showed itself in
his dispute with the Chassidim. I regret not to be able to enter here
even into a brief account of the history of this struggle. I shall
only take leave to say that I am afraid each party was right, the
Gaon as well as the Chassidim; the latter, in attacking the Rabbis
of their time, who mostly belonged to the casuistic schools, and in
their intellectual pursuits almost entirely neglected the emotional
side of religion; but none the less was the Gaon right in opposing
a system which, as I have shown above, involved the danger of
leading to a worship of men.
Excepting this incident, the Gaon never meddled with public
affairs. He lived in retirement, always occupied with his own
education and that of his disciples and friends. It is most remark-
able that, in spite of his hard work and the many privations he
had to endure, he enjoyed good health almost all his life. He

[091] never consulted a doctor. It was not until the year 1791, in the
seventieth year of his life, that he began to feel the decline of
his health. But he was not much interrupted by the failure of his
powers. As a means of recovery, he esteemed very highly the
conversation of the preacher Jacob of Dubna, better known as
the Dubna Maggid,59 whose parables and sallies of wit the Gaon
used to enjoy very much. On the eve of the Day of Atonement
in the year 1797, he fell very ill and gave his blessing to his
children. He died on the third day of the Feast of Tabernacles,
with the branch of the Lulab60 in his hands. The Feast of Joy,
relates a contemporary, was turned into days of mourning. In
all the streets of Wilna were heard only lamenting and crying
voices. The funeral orations delivered on this occasion in Wilna,
as well as in other Jewish communities, would form a small
library. His disciples wept for their master, the people of Wilna
for the ornament of their native town, and the feeling of the Jews
in general was that “the Ark of God was taken away.”
After the foregoing sketch, the reader will hardly expect me to
give an account of the Gaon's literary productions. The results of
so long a life and such powers of mind devoted to one cause with
such zeal and fervour, would furnish by themselves the subject
of a whole series of essays. The tombstone set on his grave by
his pious admirers bears the inscription, “The Gaon gave heed
and sought and set in order”—that is to say, he wrote commen-
taries or notes on—“the Bible, the Mishnah, both Talmuds, the
Siphré, Siphra, the Zohar, and many other works.” Inscriptions
on tombstones are proverbial for exaggeration, and we all know
the saying, “as mendacious as an epitaph.” But a glance at the
[092] catalogue of the British Museum under the heading of Elijah
Wilna, will show that this inscription makes a praiseworthy ex-
59
, “Teller,” a sort of travelling preacher.
60
, “palm branch.” Cf. Lev. xxiii. 40.
ception. We will find that this list might be lengthened by many

other works of great importance for Jewish life and thought. His
commentary to the Code of R. Joseph Caro, in which one will find
that in many cases he knew the sources of the religious customs
and usages, put together in this work, better than its compiler
himself, would have been sufficient to place him at the head of
Halachic scholarship, whilst his notes and textual emendations
to the Tosephta and Seder Olam, to the restoration of which he
contributed so much, would have sufficed to establish his fame
as a critic of the first order. And this is the more astonishing
when we consider that all this was done without manuscripts or
any other aid, and by mere intuition. We cannot wonder that
scholars who had the opportunity of visiting great libraries and
saw how the emendations of the Gaon agreed sometimes with
the readings given in the best manuscripts exclaimed very often:
“Only by inspiration could he have found out these secrets.” We
have no need to go so far; we shall simply say with the Talmud,
“The powers of the real sage surpass those of the prophet.” Nay,
even had we possessed only his Gleanings, which form a kind
of obiter dicta on various topics of Jewish literature, the Gaon
would have remained a model of clear thinking and real ingenuity
for all future generations.
However, a real appreciation of the Gaon's greatness as a

scholar would only be possible either by a thorough study of his
works, to which I have alluded, or by giving many specimens of
them. The short space I am limited to makes such an undertaking
impossible. I shall therefore use what remains to me to say a few [093]
words on the salutary influence the Gaon had on his countrymen,
the Russian Jews.
The Russian Jew is still a riddle to us. We know this strange

being only from the Reports of the Board of Guardians or from
bombastic phrases in public speeches; for he has always been the
victim of platform orators,
So over violent or over civil,

That every man with them is God or Devil.
From all, however, that I can gather from the best Jewish
writers in Russia, I can only judge that the Russian Jew, when
transplanted to a foreign soil, where he is cut off from the past
and uncertain of his future, is for the time at least in a position in
which his true character cannot be truly estimated. His real life
is to be sought in his own country. There, amidst his friends and
kinsmen who are all animated by the same ideals, attached to the
same traditions, and proud of the same religious and charitable
institutions, everything is full of life and meaning to him. Thus, a
certain Russian writer addresses his younger colleagues who find
so much fault with the bygone world: “Go and see how rich we
always were in excellent men. In every town and every village
you would find scholars, saints, and philanthropists. Their merits
could sustain worlds, and each of them was an ornament of Is-
rael.” And he proceeds to give dozens of names of such excellent
men, who are not all indeed known to us, but with whom the
Russian Jew connects many noble and pious reminiscences of
real greatness and heroic self-denial, and of whom he is justly
[094] proud.
The focus, however, of all this spiritual life is the Yeshibah
(Talmudical College)61 in Walosin. I hope that a glance at its
history and constitution will not be found uninteresting. The
intellectual originator of this institution which bears the name
Yeshibah Ets Chayim (Tree of Life College),62 was the Gaon
himself. Being convinced that the study of the Torah is the
very life of Judaism, but that this study must be conducted in
a scientific, not in a scholastic way, he bade his chief disciple,
the R. Chayim already mentioned, to found a college in which
61
, “High School,” or “Academy,” in which the Rabbinic litera-
ture is studied.
62
.
Rabbinical literature should be taught according to his own true

method. It would seem that, as long as the Gaon was alive,
R. Chayim preferred to be a pupil rather than a teacher. When,
however, the Gaon died, R. Chayim did not rest till he had carried
out the command of his master, and in the year 1803 the College
was opened in Walosin. The cloth manufacturer and disciple now
became Rabbi and master. He began on a small scale, teaching
at first only a few pupils. But even for the sustenance of a small
number he had not sufficient means, and his pious wife sold her
jewellery to help him in accomplishing his favourite plan. This
is the best refutation of the French proverb Avare comme une
Rabbine. The number, however, increased daily, and before he
died (1828), he was fortunate enough to lecture to a hundred stu-
dents. The number of students in the year 1888 amounted to 400,
and the Russian Jews are thus right in asserting that they have
the greatest Talmudical College in the world. It is evident that
no private charity by a single man, however great, could suffice
to maintain such large numbers. Thus R. Chayim was already
compelled to appeal to the liberality of his Russian brethren. The
name of R. Chayim, and the still greater name of his master, [095]
were recommendation enough, and besides private offerings,
many communities promised large sums towards supporting the
students in Walosin. From time to time also messengers are sent
out by the committee to promote the interests of the Yeshibah.
The writers to whom I owe these data tell us that these messengers
travel to all parts of the world to collect offerings for Walosin:
so that it is a standing joke with the students that the existence
of the mythical river Sambatyon63 may be questioned after all,
otherwise it must long have been discovered by these messengers
who explore the whole world in their journeys. But it would
seem that this world is only a very small one. For the whole
income of the Yeshibah has never exceeded the sum of about
63
, a mythical river which is supposed to stop its course on
Sabbath.
£1800. Of this a certain part is spent in providing the salaries of

the teaching staff and proctors, and on the repairs of the building;
whilst the rest is distributed amongst the students. Considering
that no scholarship exceeds £13—it is only the forty immortals
of Walosin who receive such high stipends—considering again
that the great majority of the students belong to the poorer classes
and thus receive no remittance from their parents, we may be
sure that the words of the Talmud: “This is the way to study the
Torah; eat bread and salt, drink water by measure, sleep on the
earth, and live a life of care,” are carried out by them literally.
But it would seem that the less they eat and the less they sleep,
the more they work. Indeed the industry and the enthusiasm of
these Bachurim (alumni)64 in the study of the Torah is almost
unsurpassable. The official hours alone extend from nine in the
morning until ten in the evening, while many of the students
[096] volunteer to continue their studies till the middle of the night, or
to begin the day at three in the morning.
As to the subject of these studies, it is confined, as may be
imagined, to the exploration of the old Rabbinic literature in all
its branches. But it would be a mistake to think that the modern
spirit has left Walosin quite untouched. It would be impossible
that among 400 thinking heads there should not be a few who are
interested in mathematics, others again in philosophy or history,
while yet others would conjugate the irregular verbs of some
classical language when moving to and fro over their Talmud
folios and pretending to “learn.” Indeed, almost all the writers
who demand that these subjects should be introduced as oblig-
atory into the programme of Walosin, belonged themselves to
this Yeshibah. And it is these writers who betray the secret how
secular knowledge is now invading the precincts of Walosin, as
well as of other Talmudical Colleges in spite of all obstacles and
prohibitions. In conquering these difficulties seem to consist the
64
, sing. , “Young man,” by which term the Jews
usually understand the alumni of their Talmudical schools.
pleasures of life of many Bachurim at Walosin. Look only at

that undergraduate, how, after a heavy day's work he is standing
there in the street reading Buckle's History of Civilisation in the
moonlight! Poor man, he is not so romantic as to prefer the
moonlight to a cheerful, warm room, with the more prosaic light
of a candle, but he has got tired of knocking at the door, for his
landlady, to whom he has neglected to pay rent for the last three
terms, made up her mind to let him freeze to-night. But still more
cruel to him is his fellow-sufferer, who is also wandering in the
streets with an overloaded brain and empty stomach; he roughly
shakes him out of his dreams by telling him that Buckle is long
ago antiquated, and that he had better study the works of Herbert [097]
Spencer, who has spoken the last word on every vital subject in
the world. Still these two starving and freezing representatives
of English thought in Walosin form only an exception. The
general favourites are the representatives of Jewish thought. That
such books as the Guide of the Perplexed, by Maimonides, the
Metaphysical Researches of Levi b. Gershom,65 and other philo-
sophical works of the Spanish school are read by the Walosin
students it is needless to say. These books now form a part of the
Rabbinic literature, and it would be almost unorthodox to suspect
their readers. But is worth noticing that even the productions of
the modern historico-critical school, such as the works of Zunz,
Frankel, Graetz, Weiss, are very popular with the Bachurim,
being much read and discussed by them.
Thus Walosin deserves rightly to be considered as the centre
of Jewish thought in Russia, in which the spirit of the Gaon is
still working.
I have very often, however, heard doubts expressed as to the
continuance of this spirit when, as it is to be hoped, better times
come for the Jews in Russia. Is it not to be feared that liberty
65
Levi b. Gershom (1286-1344) is generally regarded as the greatest successor
of Maimonides. Besides his rationalistic commentaries on the Bible, he wrote
various treatises on metaphysics, mathematics, astronomy, medicine, etc.
and emancipation will render untenable ideas and notions which

arose under entirely different circumstances? There is no need of
entertaining such fears. Rabbi Jedaiah of Bedres66 concludes his
philosophical work Examination of the World, with the following
words: “The conclusion of the whole matter is, go either to the
right, my heart, or go to the left, but believe all that R. Moses
ben Maimon (Maimonides) has believed, the last of the Gaonim
by time, but the first in rank.” About five hundred years have
passed away since these lines were written. Time, as we have
[098] seen, has brought another Gaon, and probably Time will favour
us in future with still another. But times have also altered. The
rebellious hearts of a liberal age are not likely to obey always
the command, “believe all that the Gaon said.” But the heart of
man will in all ages retain idealism enough to love and revere the
greatest of men and to follow what was best in them.
[099]
66
.
IV. Nachmanides67
R. Chayim Vital, in his Book of the Transmigrations of Souls,

gives the following bold characteristic of the two great teachers
of Judaism, Maimonides and Nachmanides. Their souls both
sprang forth from the head of Adam—it is a favourite idea of
the Cabbalists to evolve the whole of ideal humanity from the
archetype Adam—but the former, Maimonides, had his genius
placed on the left curl of Adam, which is all judgment and
severity, whilst that of the latter, Nachmanides, had its place on
the right curl, which represents rather mercy and tenderness.
I start from these words in order to avoid disappointment. For
Nachmanides was a great Talmudist, a great Bible student, a
67
In Steinschneider's Catalogue of the Bodleian Library, under the name of
Moses Nachmanides, pp. 1947-1965, all the works which are ascribed to this
author are put together, and also discussed as to their authenticity. There are
only to be added the new edition of the Derasha by Jellinek (Vienna, 1872),
in which the variants from Schorr's MS. ( , viii. 162) are already
incorporated; a new edition of the , and the commentary to Is.
lii.-liii. by Steinschneider (Berlin, 1860); a Sermon for the New Year, ed. by H.
Berliner (Libanon, v. 564); and another Sermon at a wedding (?), ed. by Schorr
(Hechalus, xii. 3). For the literature on Nachmanides, besides the references
given by Steinschneider, in his Catalogue, and the Addenda, p. cxviii. (cf.
also the pedigree in the Catalogue 2305), see also Graetz, Geschichte, vii.,
pp. 112-143, and p. 147 seq.; Michael, , No. 1125, and
Weiss, , v. 4 seq.; Perles' Monatsschrift, 1860,
p. 175; Zomber, ibid. 421; and Z. Frankel, ibid. 1868, p. 449, and The Jewish
Quarterly Review, iv. 245 seq. For Nachmanides' disputation we have to add
M. Loeb in the Révue des Études Juives, xv. 1 seq., and xviii. 52 (about Abner),
and Dr. Neubauer's Essay on Jewish Controversy in the Expositor, vol. vii.
(third series), p. 98 seq., with the references given there. See also his article
on the Bahir and the Zohar in The Jewish Quarterly Review, iv. 357. With
regard to Nachmanides' mystical system see the references to S. Sachs (whose
great philosopher, a great controversialist, and, perhaps, also a

great physician; in one word, great in every respect, possessed of
all the culture of his age. But, as I have already indicated by the
passage quoted by way of introduction, it is not of Nachmanides
in any of these excellent qualities that I wish to write here. For
these aspects of his life and mind I must refer the reader to the
works of Graetz, Weiss, Steinschneider, Perles, and others. I
shall mostly confine myself to those features and peculiarities
in his career and works which will illustrate Nachmanides the
[100] tender and compassionate, the Nachmanides who represented
Judaism from the side of emotion and feeling, as Maimonides
did from the side of reason and logic.
R. Moses ben Nachman, or Bonastruc de Portas, as he was
called by his fellow-countrymen, or Nachmanides, as he is com-
monly called now, was born in Gerona about the year 1195.
Gerona is a little town in the province of Catalonia in Spain. But
though in Spain, Gerona was not distinguished for its philoso-
phers or poets like Granada, Barcelona, or Toledo. Situated
as it was in the North of Spain, Gerona was under the influ-
ence of Franco-Jewish sympathies, and thus its boast lay in
the great Talmudists that it produced. I shall only mention the
name of R. Zerahiah Hallevi Gerundi—so-called after his native
place—whose strictures on the Code of R. Isaac Alfasi, which he
began as a youth of nineteen years, will always remain a marvel
remarks are most suggestive), Krochmal, and Jellinek in Steinschneider, col.
1949 and 1964, Perles' Monatsschrift, 1858, p. 83 seq., and Steinschneider in
the Heb. Bibliographie, i. 34. See also Professor Kaufmann's Die Geschichte
der Attributenlehre, and the references given in the index under this name. The
Novellæ by his son R. Nachman, alluded to in the text, are in the University
Library, Cambridge (Add. 1187, 2). The is extant in the
British Museum, MS. Add. 26,894, and the passage quoted by De Rossi is to
be found on p. 163b, but a few words are erased by the censor. As to the poem
given at the end of this paper, see Zunz, Synagogale Poesie, p. 478; Landshut,
Amude ha-Abodah s.v., the references in Sachs' Religiöse Poesie der Juden,
and Luzzatto in the Ozar Nechmad, ii. 27. Compare also Professor Cheyne's
The Origin of the Psalter, p. 421.
IV. Nachmanides 105
of critical insight and independent research. Nachmanides is sup-

posed by some authors to have been a descendant of R. Isaac ben
Reuben of Barcelona, whose hymns are still to be found in certain
rituals. The evidence for this is insufficient, but we know that he
was a cousin of R. Jonah Gerundi, not less famous for his Talmu-
dic learning than for his saintliness and piety. Nachmanides thus
belonged to the best Jewish families of Gerona. Various great
men are mentioned as his teachers, but we have certainty only
about two, namely R. Judah ben Yakar, the commentator of the
prayers, and R. Meir ben Nathan of Trinquintaines. The mystic,
R. Ezra (or Azriel), is indeed alleged to have been his instructor
in the Cabbalah, and this is not impossible, as he also was an
inhabitant of Gerona; but it is more probable that Nachmanides
was initiated into the Cabbalah by the R. Judah just mentioned, [101]
who also belonged to the mystical school.
Whoever his masters were, they must have been well satisfied
with their promising pupil, for he undertook, at the age of fifteen,
to write supplements to the Code of R. Isaac Alfasi. Nor was
it at a much later date that he began to compose his work, The
Wars of the Lord, in which he defends this great codifier against
the strictures of R. Zerahiah, to which we have referred above. I
shall in the course of this essay have further occasion to speak of
this latter work; for the present we will follow the career of its
author.
Concerning the private life of Nachmanides very little has
come down to us. We only know that he had a family of sons and
daughters. He was not spared the greatest grief that can befall a
father, for he lost a son; it was on the day of the New Year.68
On the other hand, it must have been a great source of joy to him
when he married his son Solomon to the daughter of R. Jonah,
whom he revered as a saint and a man of God. As a token of the
admiration in which he held his friend, the following incident
68
New Year's Day, on the first of Tishri. It is in autumn.
may be mentioned. It seems that it was the custom in Spain to

name the first child in a family after his paternal grandfather;
but Nachmanides ceded his right in behalf of his friend, and thus
his daughter-in-law's first son was named Jonah. Another son
of Nachmanides whom we know of was Nachman, to whom his
father addressed his letters from Palestine, and who also wrote
Novellæ to the Talmud, still extant in MS. But the later posterity
of Nachmanides is better known to fame. R. Levi ben Gershom
was one of his descendants; so was also R. Simeon Duran;69
[102] whilst R. Jacob Sasportas, in the eighteenth century,70 derived
his pedigree from Nachmanides in the eleventh generation.
As to his calling, he was occupied as Rabbi and teacher, first in
Gerona and afterwards in Barcelona. But this meant as much as if
we should say of a man that he is a philanthropist by profession,
with the only difference that the treasures of which Nachmanides
disposed were more of a spiritual kind. For his livelihood he
probably depended upon his medical practice.
I need hardly say that the life of Nachmanides, “whose words
were held in Catalonia in almost as high authority as the Scrip-
tures,” was not without its great public events. At least we know
of two.
The one was about the year 1232, on the occasion of the great
struggle about Maimonides' Guide of the Perplexed, and the first
book of his great Compendium of the Law. The Maimonists
looked upon these works almost as a new revelation, whilst the
Anti-Maimonists condemned both as heretical, or at least con-
ducive to heresy.71 It would be profitless to reproduce the details
69
A famous Rabbi of the fifteenth century, known by his various casuistical
and philosophical works.
70
Chiefly known through his controversial writings against the adherents of
the pseudo-Messiah Shabbethai Tsebi. He was for some time the Rabbi of the
Portuguese congregation in London.
71
The main objections of the opponents of Maimonides were directed against
his rationalistic notions of Revelation, and his allegorising interpretation of
the Scriptures, which amounted in some places to a denial of miracles. He
IV. Nachmanides 107
of this sad affair. The motives may have been pure and good, but
the actions were decidedly bad. People denounced each other,
excommunicated each other, and did not (from either side) spare
even the dead from the most bitter calumnies. Nachmanides
stood between two fires. The French Rabbis, from whom most of
the Anti-Maimonists were recruited, he held in very high esteem
and considered himself as their pupil. Some of the leaders of this
party were also his relatives. He, too, had, as we shall see later on,
a theory of his own about God and the world little in agreement
with that of Maimonides. It is worth noting that Nachmanides
objected to calling Maimonides “our teacher Moses” (Rabbenu [103]
Mosheh),72 thinking it improper to confer upon him the title by
which the Rabbis honoured the Master of the Prophets. The very
fact, however, that he had some theory of the Universe shows
that he had a problem to solve, whilst the real French Rabbis
were hardly troubled by difficulties of a metaphysical character.
Indeed, Nachmanides pays them the rather doubtful compliment
that Maimonides' work was not intended for them, who were
barricaded by their faith and happy in their belief, wanting no
protection against the works of Aristotle and Galen, by whose
philosophy others might be led astray. In other words, their
strength lay in an ignorance of Greek philosophy, to which the
cultivated Jews of Spain would not aspire. Nachmanides was also
a great admirer of Maimonides, whose virtues and great merits
in the service of Judaism he describes in his letter to the French
Rabbis. Thus, the only way left open to him was to play the part
of the conciliator. The course of this struggle is fully described
in every Jewish history. It is sufficient to say that, in spite of his
great authority, Nachmanides was not successful in his effort to
was also suspected of having denied bodily resurrection. A history of Jewish

rationalism is still a desideratum. I am certain that it would prove at least
as interesting as Reuter's Geschichte der religiösen Aufklärung im Mittelalter
(Berlin, 1845-60).
72
.
moderate the violence of either party, and that the controversy

was at last settled through the harsh interference of outsiders who
well-nigh crushed Maimonists and Anti-Maimonists alike.
The second public event in the life of Nachmanides was his
Disputation, held in Barcelona, at the Court and in the presence
of King Jayme I., of Aragon, in the year 1263. It was the usual
story. A convert to Christianity, named Pablo Christiani, who
burned with zealous anxiety to see his former co-religionists
saved, after many vain attempts in this direction, applied to the
[104] King of Aragon to order Nachmanides to take part in a public
disputation. Pablo maintained that he could prove the justice of
the Messianic claims of Jesus from the Talmud and other Rab-
binic writings. If he could only succeed in convincing the great
Rabbi of Spain of the truth of his argument, the bulk of the Jews
was sure to follow. By the way, it was the same Talmud which
some twenty years previously was, at the instance of another
Jewish convert, burned in Paris, for containing passages against
Christianity. Nachmanides had to conform with the command
of the king, and, on the 21st of July, 1263, was begun the
controversy, which lasted for four or five days.
I do not think that there is in the whole domain of literature less
profitable reading than that of the controversies between Jews
and Christians. These public disputations occasionally forced
the Jews themselves to review their position towards their own
literature, and led them to draw clearer distinctions between what
they regarded as religion and what as folklore. But beyond this,
the polemics between Jews and Christians were barren of good
results. If you have read one you have read enough for all time.
The same casuistry and the same disregard of history turn up
again and again. Nervousness and humility are always on the
side of the Jews, who know that, whatever the result may be, the
end will be persecution; arrogance is always on the side of their
antagonists, who are supported by a band of Knights of the Holy
Cross, prepared to prove the soundness of their cause at the point
IV. Nachmanides 109
of their daggers.
Besides, was there enough common ground between Judaism
and thirteenth century Christianity to have justified the hope of a
mutual understanding? The Old Testament was almost forgotten [105]
in the Church. The First Person in the Trinity was leading a
sort of shadowy existence in art, which could only be the more
repulsive to a Jew on that account. The largest part of Church
worship was monopolised by devotion to the Virgin Mother,
prayers to the saints, and kneeling before their relics. And a Jew
may well be pardoned if he did not entertain higher views of this
form of worship than Luther and Knox did at a later period. It
will thus not be worth our while to dwell much on the matter
of this controversy, in which the essence of the real dispute is
scarcely touched. There are only two points in it which are worth
noticing. The first is that Nachmanides declared the Agadoth73
in the Talmud to be only a series of sermons (he uses this
very word), expressing the individual opinions of the preacher,
and thus possessing no authoritative weight. The convert Pablo
is quite aghast at this statement, and accuses Nachmanides of
heterodoxy.
Secondly,—and here I take leave to complete the rather ob-
scure passage in the controversy by a parallel in his book, The
Date of Redemption,74 quoted by Azariah de Rossi—that the
question of the Messiah is not of that dogmatic importance to the
Jews that Christians imagine. For even if Jews supposed their
sins to be so great that they forfeited all the promises made to
them in the Scriptures, or that, on some hidden ground, it would
please the Almighty never to restore their national independence,
this would in no way alter the obligations of Jews towards the
Torah. Nor is the coming of the Messiah desired by Jews as an
end in itself. For it is not the goal of their hopes that they shall be
73
, “Homilies.” See above, p. 64 and note.
74
, “The end of the Redemption,” that is the time when
the advent of the Messiah is to be expected.
[106] able again to eat of the fruit of Palestine, or enjoy other pleasures
there; not even the chance of the restoration of sacrifices and
the worship of the Temple is the greatest of Jewish expectations
(connected with the appearance of the Messiah). What makes
them long for his coming is the hope that they will then witness,
in the company of the prophets and priests, a greater spread of
purity and holiness than is now possible. In other words, the
possibility for them to live a holy life after the will of God will
be greater than now. But, on the other hand, considering that
such a godly life under a Christian government requires greater
sacrifices than it would under a Jewish king; and, considering
again that the merits and rewards of a good act increase with the
obstacles that are in the way of executing it—considering this,
a Jew might even prefer to live under the King of Aragon than
under the Messiah, where he would perforce act in accordance
with the precepts of the Torah.
Now there is in this statement much that has only to be looked
upon as a compliment to the government of Spain. I am inclined
to think that if the alternative laid before Nachmanides had been
a really practical one, he would have decided in favour of the
clement rule of the Messiah in preference to that of the most
cruel king on earth. But the fact that he repeats this statement in
another place, where there was no occasion to be over polite to
the Government, tends to show, as we have said, that the belief
in the Messiah was not the basis on which Nachmanides' religion
was built up.
The result of the controversy is contested by the different
parties; the Christian writers claim the victory for Pablo, whilst
[107] the Jewish documents maintain that the issue was with Nach-
manides. In any case, “Der Jude wird verbrannt.” For in the next
year (1264) all the books of the Jews in Aragon were confiscated
and submitted to the censorship of a commission, of which the
well-known author of the Pugio Fidei, Raymund Martini, was,
perhaps, the most important member. The books were not burned
IV. Nachmanides 111
this time, but had to suffer a severe mutilation; the anti-Christian

passages, or such as were supposed to be so, were struck out or
obliterated. Nachmanides' account of the controversy, which he
probably published from a sense of duty towards those whom
he represented, was declared to contain blasphemies against the
dominant religion. The pamphlet was condemned to be burned
publicly, whilst the author was, as it seems, punished with ex-
pulsion from his country. It is not reported where Nachmanides
found a home during the next three years; probably he had to
accept the hospitality of his friends, either in Castile or in the
south of France; but we know that in the year 1267 he left Europe
and emigrated to Palestine.
Nachmanides was, at this juncture of his life, already a man
of about seventy. But it would seem as if the seven decades
which he had spent in the Spanish Peninsula were only meant as
a preparation for the three years which he was destined to live
in the Holy Land, for it was during this stage of his life that the
greatest part of his Commentary on the Pentateuch was written.
In this work, as is agreed on all sides, his finest thoughts and
noblest sentiments were put down.
Before proceeding to speak of his works, let us first cast a
glance at his letters from Palestine, forming as they do a certain
link between his former life and that which was to occupy him [108]
exclusively for the rest of his days. We have three letters, the
first of which I shall translate here in extenso.
The letter was written soon after his arrival at Jerusalem in
the year 1267. It was addressed to his son Nachman, and runs as
follows:—
“The Lord shall bless thee, my son Nachman, and thou shalt
see the good of Jerusalem. Yea, thou shalt see thy children's
children (Ps. cxxviii.), and thy table shall be like that of our
father Abraham!75 In Jerusalem, the Holy City, I write this

letter. For, thanks and praise unto the rock of my salvation,
I was thought worthy by God to arrive here safely on the 9th
of the month of Elul, and I remained there till the day after
the Day of Atonement. Now I intend going to Hebron, to
the sepulchre of our ancestors, to prostrate myself, and there
to dig my grave. But what am I to say to you with regard
to the country? Great is the solitude and great the wastes,
and, to characterise it in short, the more sacred the places, the
greater their desolation! Jerusalem is more desolate than the
rest of the country: Judæa more than Galilee. But even in this
destruction it is a blessed land. It has about 2000 inhabitants,
about 300 Christians live there who escaped the sword of the
Sultan. There are no Jews. For since the arrival of the Tartars,
some fled, others died by the sword. There are only two
brothers, dyers by trade, who have to buy their ingredients
from the government. There the Ten Men76 meet, and on
Sabbaths they hold service at their house. But we encouraged
them, and we succeeded in finding a vacant house, built on
pillars of marble with a beautiful arch. That we took for a
synagogue. For the town is without a master, and whoever
will take possession of the ruins can do so. We gave our
offerings towards the repairs of the house. We have sent
already to Shechem to fetch some scrolls of the Law from
there which had been brought thither from Jerusalem at the
invasion of the Tartars. Thus they will organise a synagogue
and worship there. For continually people crowd to Jerusalem,
[109] men and women, from Damascus, Zobah (Aleppo),77 and
from all parts of the country to see the Sanctuary and to mourn
75
This patriarch is famous in Jewish legend for his hospitality. See Beer's
Leben Abrahams, pp. 37 and 56.
76
This is the quorum necessary to form a congregation ( ) for the
purpose of holding divine service.
77
By Zobah, or Aram Zobah, the Jews of the Middle Ages usually understood
Aleppo. See Benjamin of Tudela's Itinerary, i. 88, ii. 124 (London and Berlin,
1840-41).
IV. Nachmanides 113
over it. He who thought us worthy to let us see Jerusalem in

her desertion, he shall bless us to behold her again, built and
restored, when the glory of the Lord will return unto her. But
you, my son, and your brothers and the whole of our family,
you all shall live to see the salvation of Jerusalem and the
comfort of Zion. These are the words of your father who is
yearning and forgetting, who is seeing and enjoying, Moses
ben Nachman. Give also my peace to my pupil Moses, the
son of Solomon, the nephew of your mother. I wish to tell him
... that there, facing the holy temple, I have read his verses,
weeping bitterly over them. May he who caused his name to
rest in the Holy Temple increase your peace together with the
peace of the whole community.”
This letter may be illustrated by a few parallels taken from

the appendix to Nachmanides' Commentary to the Pentateuch,
which contains some rather incoherent notes which the author
seems to have jotted down when he arrived in Jerusalem. After a
lengthy account of the material as well as the spiritual glories of
the holy city in the past, he proceeds to say:—
“A mournful sight I have perceived in thee (Jerusalem); only

one Jew is here, a dyer, persecuted, oppressed and despised.
At his house gather great and small when they can get the Ten
Men. They are wretched folk, without occupation and trade,
consisting of a few pilgrims and beggars, though the fruit of
the land is still magnificent and the harvests rich. Indeed, it
is still a blessed country, flowing with milk and honey.... Oh!
I am the man who saw affliction. I am banished from my
table, far removed from friend and kinsman, and too long is
the distance to meet again.... I left my family, I forsook my
house. There with my sons and daughters, and with the sweet
and dear children whom I have brought up on my knees, I left
also my soul. My heart and my eyes will dwell with them
for ever.... But the loss of all this and of every other glory
my eyes saw is compensated by having now the joy of being [110]
a day in thy courts (O Jerusalem), visiting the ruins of the

Temple and crying over the ruined Sanctuary; where I am
permitted to caress thy stones, to fondle thy dust, and to weep
over thy ruins. I wept bitterly, but I found joy in my tears. I
tore my garments, but I felt relieved by it.”
Of some later date is his letter from Acra, which may be

considered as a sort of ethical will, and which has been justly
characterised as a eulogy of humility. Here is an extract from
it:—
“Accustom yourself to speak gently to all men at all times,

and thus you will avoid anger, which leads to so much sin....
Humility is the first of virtues; for if you think how lowly is
man, how great is God, you will fear Him and avoid sinful-
ness. On the humble man rests the divine glory; the man that
is haughty to others denies God. Look not boldly at one whom
you address.... Regard every one as greater than thyself....
Remember always that you stand before God, both when you
pray and when you converse with others.... Think before you
speak.... Act as I have bidden you, and your words, and
deeds, and thoughts, will be honest, and your prayers pure
and acceptable before God.”
The third letter is addressed to his son (R. Solomon?) who

was staying (in the service of the king) in Castile. It is in its chief
content a eulogy of chastity.78 Probably Nachmanides had some
dread of the dangerous allurements of the court, and he begs his
son never to do anything of which he knows that his father would
not approve, and to keep his father's image always before his
eyes.
As to his works, we may divide them into two classes. The
one would contain those of a strictly legalistic (Halachic), whilst
the other those of a more homiletic-exegetical and devotional
78
See below, p. 141, where a full translation of the letter is given.
IV. Nachmanides 115
character (Agadic). As already indicated in the preliminary lines

of this paper, I cannot dwell long on the former class of our [111]
author's writings. It consists either of Glosses or Novellæ to
the Talmud, in the style and manner of the French Rabbis, or
of Compendia of certain parts of the Law after the model set
by R. Isaac Alfasi or Maimonides, or in defences of the “Ear-
lier Authorities” against the strictures made on them by a later
generation. A few words must be said with regard to these
defences; for they reveal that deep respect for authority which
forms a special feature of Nachmanides' writings. His Wars of
the Lord, in which he defends Alfasi against R. Zerahiah of
Gerona, was undertaken when he was very young, whilst his
defence of the author of the Halachoth Gedoloth79 against the
attacks of Maimonides, which he began at a much more mature
age, shows the same deference “to the great ones of the past.”
Indeed, he says in one place, “We bow before them (the earlier
authorities), and though their words are not quite evident to us we
submit to them”; or, as he expresses himself elsewhere, “Only
he who dips (deeply enough) in the wisdom of the ‘ancient ones’
will drink the pure (old) wine.” But it would be unjust to the
genius of Nachmanides to represent him as a blind worshipper
of authority. Humble and generous in disposition, he certainly
would bow before every recognised authority, and he would also
think it his duty to take up the cudgels for him as long as there
was even the least chance of making an honourable defence.
But when this chance had gone, when Nachmanides was fully
convinced that his hero was in the wrong, he followed no guide
but truth. “Notwithstanding,” he says in his introduction to the
defences of the Halachoth Gedoloth, “my desire and delight to
be the disciple of the Earlier Authorities, to maintain their views
and to assert them, I do not consider myself a ‘donkey carrying [112]
books.’ I will explain their way and appreciate their value, but
79
, a compendium of the Law, dating from the
ninth century, by R. Simon Caro.
when their views are inconceivable to my thoughts, I will plead

in all modesty, but shall judge according to the sight of my eyes.
And when the meaning is clear I shall flatter none, for the Lord
gives wisdom in all times and ages.” But, on the other hand,
there seems to have been a certain sort of literary agnosticism
about Nachmanides which made it very difficult for him to find
the “clear meaning.” The passage in the Wars of the Lord to the
effect “that there is in the art (of commenting) no such certain
demonstration as in mathematics or astronomy,” is well known
and has often been quoted; but still more characteristic of this
literary agnosticism is the first paragraph of the above-mentioned
defences of the Halachoth Gedoloth. Whilst all his predecessors
accepted, on the authority of R. Simlai,80 the number (613)
of the commandments as an uncontested fact, and based their
compositions on it, Nachmanides questions the whole matter,
and shows that the passages relating to this enumeration of laws
are only of a homiletical nature, and thus of little consequence.
Nay, he goes so far as to say, “Indeed the system how to number
the commandments is a matter in which I suspect all of us (are
mistaken) and the truth must be left to him who will solve all
doubts.” We should thus be inclined to think that this adherence
to the words of the earlier Authorities was at least as much due
to this critical scepticism as to his conservative tendencies.
The space left to me I shall devote to the second class of his
writings, in which Nachmanides worked less after given types.
These reveal to us more of his inner being, and offer us some
[113] insight into his theological system. The great problem which
seems to have presented itself to Nachmanides' mind was less
how to reconcile religion with reason than how to reconcile man
with religion. What is man? The usual answer is not flattering.
80
R. Simlai flourished in Palestine in the third century. He is best known as
an Agadic teacher and a great controversialist. According to him, 613 com-
mandments were given to Moses on Mount Sinai, of which 365 are prohibitive
laws, whilst the remaining 248 are positive injunctions.
IV. Nachmanides 117
He is an animal that owes its existence to the same instinct that

produces even the lower creatures, and he is condemned, like
them, to go to a place of worm and maggot. But, may not one ask,
why should a creature so lowly born, and doomed to so hapless
a future, be burdened with the awful responsibility of knowing
that he is destined “to give reckoning and judgment before the
King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He”? It is true that
man is also endowed with a heavenly soul, but this only brings
us back again to the antithesis of flesh and spirit which was the
stumbling-block of many a theological system. Nor does it help
us much towards the solution of the indicated difficulty; for what
relation can there be between this materia impura of body and
the pure intellect of soul? And again, must not the unfavourable
condition in which the latter is placed through this uncongenial
society heavily clog and suppress all aspiration for perfection?
It is “a house divided against itself,” doomed to an everlasting
contest, without hope for co-operation or even of harmony.
The works The Sacred Letter and The Law of Man may be
considered as an attempt by Nachmanides, if not to remove, at
least to relieve the harshness of this antithesis. The former, in
which he blames Maimonides for following Aristotle in denounc-
ing certain desires implanted in us by nature as ignominious and
unworthy of man, may, perhaps, be characterised as a vindica-
tion of the flesh from a religious point of view. The contempt
in which “that Greek,” as Nachmanides terms Aristotle, held [114]
the flesh is inconsistent with the theory of the religious man,
who believes that everything (including the body, with all its
functions) is created by God, whose work is perfect and good,
without impure or inharmonious parts. It is only sin and neglect
that disfigure God's creations. I cannot enter into any further
details of this work, but I may be permitted to remark that there
is a very strong similarity between the tendency of the Sacred
Letter and certain leading ideas of Milton. Indeed, if the first
two chapters of the former were a little condensed and put into
English, they could not be better summarised than by the famous

lines in the Paradise Lost:—
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk

Of purity, and place, and innocence,
Defaming as impure what God declares
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all,
Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain
But our destroyer, foe to God and man?
Hail, wedded love, mysterious law!...
Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame
Or think thee unbefitting holiest place,
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets.
The second of these two works, the Law of Man, may be

regarded as a sanctification of grief, and particularly of the grief
of griefs, death. The bulk of the book is legalistic, treating
of mourning rites, burial customs, and similar topics; but there
is much in the preface which bears on our subject. For here
again Nachmanides takes the opportunity of combating a chilling
philosophy, which tries to arm us against suffering by stifling
[115] our emotions. “My son,” he says, “be not persuaded by certain
propositions of the great philosophers who endeavour to harden
our hearts and to deaden our sensations by their idle comfort,
which consists in denying the past and despairing of the future.
One of them has even declared that there is nothing in the world
over the loss of which it is worth crying, and the possession of
which would justify joy. This is an heretical view. Our perfect
Torah bids us to be joyful in the day of prosperity and to shed
tears in the day of misfortune. It in no way forbids crying or
demands of us to suppress our grief. On the contrary, the Torah
suggests to us that to mourn over heavy losses is equivalent to a
service of God, leading us, as it does, to reflect on our end and
ponder over our destiny.”
IV. Nachmanides 119
This destiny, as well as Reward and Punishment in general,

is treated in the concluding chapter of the Law of Man, which is
known under the title of The Gate of Reward.81 Nachmanides
does not conceal from himself the difficulties besetting inquiries
of this description. He knows well enough that in the last instance
we must appeal to that implicit faith in the inscrutable justice of
God with which the believer begins. Nevertheless he thinks that
only the “despisers of wisdom” would fail to bring to this faith
as full a conviction as possible, which latter is only to be gained
by speculation. I shall have by and by occasion to refer to the
results of this speculation. Here we must only notice the fact of
Nachmanides insisting on the bodily resurrection which will take
place after the coming of the Messiah, and will be followed by
the Olam Habba82 (the life in the world to come) of which the
Rabbis spoke. [116]
Irrational as this belief may look, it is only a consequence of
his theory, which, as we have seen, assigns even to the flesh an
almost spiritual importance. Indeed, he thinks that the soul may
have such an influence on the body as to transform the latter into
so pure an essence that it will become safe for eternity. For, as
he hints in another place, by the continual practising of a thing
the whole man, the body included, becomes so identified with
the thing that we call him after it, just as the Holy Singer said: I
am prayer,83 so that—
Oft converse with heavenly habitants

Begins to cast a beam on the outward shape,
The unpolluted temple of the mind,
And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence,
Till all be made immortal.
81
, “Treatise on Reward (and Punishment).”
82
.
83
Ps. cix. 4; .
But if even the body holds such a high position as to make

all its instincts and functions, if properly regulated, a service of
God, and to destine it for a glorious future of eternal bliss and
rejoicing in God, we can easily imagine what a high place the
soul must occupy in the system of Nachmanides. To be sure it
is a much higher one than that to which philosophy would fain
admit her. A beautiful parable of the Persian poet Yellaladeen
(quoted by the late Mr. Lowell) narrates that “One knocked
at the beloved's door, and a voice asked from within, ‘Who is
there?’ and he answered, ‘It is I.’ Then the voice said, ‘This
house will not hold me and thee,’ and the door was not opened.
Then went the lover into the desert and fasted and prayed in
solitude, and after a year he returned and knocked again at the
door, and again the voice asked ‘Who is there?’ and he said
[117] ‘It is thyself’; and the door was opened to him.” This is also
the difference between the two schools—the mystical and the
philosophical—with regard to the soul. With the rationalist the
soul is indeed a superior abstract intelligence created by God,
but, like all His creations, has an existence of its own, and is
thus separated from God. With the mystic, however, the soul is
God, or a direct emanation from God. “For he who breathes into
another thing (Gen. ii. 7) gives unto it something of his own
breath (or soul),” and as it is said in Job xxxii. 8, “And the soul
of the Almighty giveth them understanding.” This emanation, or
rather immanence—for Nachmanides insists in another place that
the Hebrew term employed for it, Aziluth,84 means a permanent
dwelling with the thing emanating—which became manifest with
the creation of man, must not be confounded with the moving
soul (or the Nephesh Chayah),85 which is common to man with
all creatures.
It may be remarked here that Nachmanides endows all animals
84
.
85
.
IV. Nachmanides 121
with a soul which is derived from the “Superior Powers,” and its
presence is proved by certain marks of intelligence which they
show. By this fact he tries to account for the law prohibiting
cruelty to animals, “all souls belonging to God.” Their origi-
nal disposition was, it would seem, according to Nachmanides,
peaceful and harmless.
About them frisking played

All beasts of earth, since wild, and of all chase
In wood or wilderness, forest or den.
It was only after man had sinned that war entered into creation,
but with the coming of the Messiah, when sin will disappear, all
the living beings will regain their primæval gentleness, and be [118]
reinstituted in their first rights.
The special soul of man, however, or rather the “over-soul,”
was pre-existent to the creation of the world, treasured up as
a wave in the sea or fountain of souls—dwelling in the eternal
light and holiness of God. There, in God, the soul abides in
its ideal existence before it enters into its material life through
the medium of man; though it must be noted that, according to
Nachmanides' belief in the Transmigration of souls, it is not nec-
essary to perceive in the soul of every new-born child, “a fresh
message from heaven” coming directly from the fountain-head.
Nachmanides finds this belief indicated in the commandment of
levirate marriage, where the child born of the deceased brother's
wife inherits not only the name of the brother of his actual father,
but also his soul, and thus perpetuates his existence on earth. The
fourth verse of Ecclesiastes ii. Nachmanides seems to interpret
to mean that the very generation which passes away comes up
again, by which he tries to explain the difficulty of God's visiting
the iniquity of the fathers on their children; the latter being the
very fathers who committed the sins. However, whatever trials
and changes the soul may have to pass through during its bodily
existence, its origin is in God and thither it will return in the end,
“just as the waters rise always to the same high level from which
their source sprang forth.”
It is for this man, with a body so superior, and a soul so
sublime—more sublime than the angels—that the world was cre-
ated. I emphasise the last word, for the belief in the creation of the
world by God from nothing forms, according to Nachmanides,
[119] the first of the three fundamental dogmas of Judaism. The other
two also refer to God's relation to the world and man. They are
the belief in God's Providence and his Yediah.86 Creation from
nothing is for Nachmanides the keynote to his whole religion,
since it is only by this fact, as he points out in many places,
that God gains real dominion over nature. For, as he says, as
soon as we admit the eternity of matter, we must (logically)
deny God even “the power of enlarging the wing of a fly, or
shortening the leg of an ant.” But the whole Torah is nothing if
not a record of God's mastery in and over the world, and of His
miraculous deeds. One of the first proclamations of Abraham to
his generation was that God is the Lord (or Master) of the world
(Gen. xviii. 33). The injunction given to Abraham, and repeated
afterwards to the whole of Israel (Gen. xvii. 2, and Deut. xviii.
13), to be perfect with God, Nachmanides numbers as one of
the 613 commandments, and explains it to mean that man must
have a whole belief in God without blemish or reservation, and
acknowledge Him possessed of power over nature and the world,
man and beast, devil and angel, power being attributable to Him
alone. Indeed, when the angel said to Jacob, “Why dost thou ask
after my name” (Gen. xxxii. 29), he meant to indicate by his
question the impotence of the heavenly host, so that there is no
use in knowing their name, the power and might belonging only
to God.
We may venture even a step further, and maintain that in
86
, “Knowledge,” “Foreknowledge,” “Omniscience.”
IV. Nachmanides 123
Nachmanides' system there is hardly room left for such a thing as

nature or “the order of the world.” There are only two categories
of miracles by which the world is governed, or in which God's
Providence is seen. The one is the category of the manifest
miracles, as the ten plagues in Egypt, or the crossing of the Red [120]
Sea; the other is that of the hidden miracles, which we do not
perceive as such, because of their frequency and continuity. “No
man,” he declares, “can share in the Torah of our Teacher, Moses
(that is, can be considered a follower of the Jewish religion),
unless he believes that all our affairs and events, whether they
concern the masses or the individual, are all miracles (worked
by the direct will of God), attributing nothing to nature or to the
order of the world.” Under this second order he classes all the
promises the Torah makes to the righteous, and the punishments
with which evil-doers are threatened. For, as he points out in
many places, there is nothing in the nature of the commandments
themselves that would make their fulfilment necessarily prolong
the life of man, and cause the skies to pour down rain, or, on the
other hand, would associate disobedience to them with famine
and death. All these results can, therefore, only be accomplished
in a supernatural way by the direct workings of God.
Thus miracles are raised to a place in the regular scheme
of things, and the difficulty regarding the possibility of God's
interferences with nature disappears by their very multiplication.
But a still more important point is, that, by this unbroken chain
of miracles, which unconditionally implies God's presence to
perform them, Nachmanides arrives at a theory establishing a
closer contact between the Deity and the world than that set
forth by other thinkers. Thus, he insists that the term Shechinah,
or Cabod87 (Glory of God), must not be understood, with some
Jewish philosophers, as something separate from God, or as glory
created by God. “Were this the case,” he proceeds to say, “we
87
, .
[121] could not possibly say, ‘Blessed be the glory of the Lord from his
place,’ since every mark of worship to anything created involves
the sin of idolatry.” Such terms as Shechinah, or Cabod, can
therefore only mean the immediate divine presence. This proves,
as may be noted in passing, how unphilosophical the idea of those
writers is who maintain that the rigid monotheism of the Jews
makes God so transcendental that He is banished from the world.
As we see, it is just this assertion of His absolute Unity which
not only suffers no substitute for God, but also removes every
separation between Him and the world. Hence also Nachmanides
insists that the prophecy even of the successors of Moses was a
direct communion of God with the prophet, and not, as others
maintained, furnished through the medium of an angel.
The third fundamental dogma, Yediah, includes, according to
Nachmanides, not only the omniscience of God—as the term
is usually translated—but also His recognition of mankind and
His special concern in them. Thus, he explains the words in the
Bible with regard to Abraham, “For I know him” (Gen. xviii.
19), to indicate the special attachment of God's Providence to
the patriarch, which, on account of his righteousness, was to
be uninterrupted for ever; whilst in other places we have to
understand, under God's knowledge of a thing, his determination
to deal with it compassionately, as, for instance, when Scripture
says that God knew (Exod. ii. 25), it means that His relation to
Israel emanated from His attribute of mercy and love. But just as
God knows (which means loves) the world, He requires also to
be recognised and known by it. “For this was the purpose of the
whole creation, that man should recognise and know Him and
[122] give praise to His name,” as it is said, “Everything that is called
by my name (meaning, chosen to promulgate God's name), for
my glory have I created it.”
It is this fact which gives Israel their high prerogative, for
by receiving the Torah they were the first to know God's name,
to which they remained true in spite of all adversities; and thus
IV. Nachmanides 125
accomplished God's intention in creating the world. It is, again,

by this Torah that the whole of Israel not only succeeded in being
real prophets (at the moment of the Revelation), but also became
Segulah,88 which indicates the inseparable attachment between
God and His people, whilst the righteous who never disobey His
will become the seat of His throne.
The position of the rest of humanity is also determined by
their relation to the Torah. “It is,” Nachmanides tells us, “a
main principle to know that all that man contrives to possess
of knowledge and wisdom is only the fruits of the Torah or the
fruits of its fruits. But for this knowledge there would be no
difference between man and the lower animated species. The
existence of the civilised nations of the world does not disprove
this rule both Christians and Mahometans being also the heirs of
the Torah. For when the Romans gained strength over Israel they
made them translate the Torah which they studied, and they even
accommodated some of their laws and institutions to those of
the Bible.” Those nations, however, who live far away from the
centre of the world (the Holy Land) and never come into contact
with Israel are outside the pale of civilisation, and can hardly be
ranked together with the human species. “They are the isles afar
off, that have not heard my fame, neither have seen my glory.” [123]
What Nachmanides meant by maintaining that all knowledge

and wisdom were “the fruits of the Torah, or the fruits of these
fruits,” will be best seen from his Commentary on the Pentateuch.
I have already made use of this Commentary in the preceding
quotations, but, being the greatest of the works of Nachmanides,
it calls for some special attention by itself. Its general purpose is
edification, or as he says, “to appease the mind of the students
(labouring under persecution and troubles) when they read the
portion on Sabbaths and festivals, and to attract their heart by
simple explanations and sweet words.” The explanations occupy
88
. See Exod. xix. 5.
a considerable space. As Dr. Perles has shown in his able essay

on this work of Nachmanides, our author neglected no resource
of philology or archæology accessible in his age which could
contribute to establish the “simple explanations” on a sound
scientific basis. The prominent feature of this Commentary,
however, is the “sweet words.” Indeed, how sweet and soothing
to his contemporaries must have been such words as we read at
the end of the “Song of Moses” (Deut. xxxii.): “And behold there
is nothing conditional in this Song. It is a charter testifying that
we shall have to suffer heavily for our sins, but that, neverthe-
less, God will not destroy us, being reconciled to us (though we
shall have no merits), and forgiving our sins for his name's sake
alone.... And so our Rabbis said, Great is this song, embracing as
it does both the past (of Israel) and the future, this world and the
world to come.... And if this song were the composition of a mere
astrologer we should be constrained to believe in it, considering
that all its words were fulfilled. How much more have we to
hope with all our hearts and to trust to the word of God, through
[124] the mouth of his prophet Moses, the faithful in all his house, like
unto whom there was none, whether before him or after him.”
A part of these sweet words may also be seen in the numerous
passages in which he attempts to account for various laws, and
to detect their underlying principles.
For though “the Torah is the expression of God's simple and
absolute will, which man has to follow without any consideration
of reward,” still this will is not arbitrary, and even that class
of laws which are called chukkim89 (which means, according to
some Jewish commentators, motiveless decrees) have their good
reasons, notwithstanding that they are unfathomable to us. “They
are all meant for the good of man, either to keep aloof from us
something hurtful, or to educate us in goodness, or to remove
from us an evil belief and to make us know his name. This
89
.
IV. Nachmanides 127
is what they (the Rabbis) meant by saying that commandments

have a purifying purpose, namely, that man being purified and
tried by them becomes as one without alloy of bad thoughts and
unworthy qualities.” Indeed, the soul of man is so sensitive to
every impurity that it suffers a sort of infection even by an unin-
tentional sin. Hence the injunction to bring a Korban (sacrifice)
even in this case; the effect of the Korban, as its etymology
(Karab)90 indicates, is to bring man back to God, or rather to
facilitate this approach. All this again is, as Nachmanides points
out, only an affluence from God's mercy and love to mankind.
God derives no benefit from it. “If he be righteous what can
he give thee?” And even those laws and institutions which are
intended to commemorate God's wonders and the creation of the
world (for instance, the Passover festival and the Sabbath) are not
meant for His glorification, or, as Heine maliciously expressed
it:— [125]
Der Weltkapellenmeister hier oben

Er selbst sogar hört gerne loben
Gleichfalls seine Werke....
“For all the honour (we give to Him), and the praising of
His work are counted by Him less than nothing and as vanity to
Him.” What He desires is that we may know the truth, and be
confirmed in it, for this makes us worthy of finding in Him “our
Protector and King.”
The lessons which Nachmanides draws from the various Bib-
lical narratives also belong to these “sweet words.” They are
mostly of a typical character. For, true as all the stories in the
Scriptures are, “the whole Torah is,” as he tells us (with allusion
to Gen. v. 1.), “the book of the generations of Adam,” or, as we
should say, a history of humanity written in advance. Thus the
account of the six days of the creation is turned into a prophecy
90
, .
of the most important events which would occur during the suc-
ceeding six thousand years, whilst the Sabbath is a forecast of
the millennium in the seventh thousand, which will be the day
of the Lord. Jacob and Esau are, as in the old Rabbinic homilies
generally, the prototypes of Israel and Rome; and so is the battle
of Moses and Joshua with Amalek indicative of the war which
Elijah and the Messiah the son of Joseph will wage against Edom
(the prototype of Rome), before the Redeemer from the house
of David will appear.91 Sometimes these stories convey both
a moral and a pre-justification of what was destined to happen
to Israel. So Nachmanides' remarks with reference to Sarah's
treatment of Hagar (Gen. xvi. 6): “Our mother Sarah sinned
greatly by inflicting this pain on Hagar, as did also Abraham,
who allowed such a thing to pass; but God saw her affliction
[126] and rewarded her by a son (the ancestor of a wild race), who
would inflict on the seed of Abraham and Sarah every sort of
oppression.” In this he alluded to the Islamic empires. Nor does
he approve of Abraham's conduct on the occasion of his coming
to Egypt, when he asked Sarah to pass as his sister (Gen. xii.).
“Unintentionally,” Nachmanides says, “Abraham, under the fear
of being murdered, committed a great sin when he exposed his
virtuous wife to such a temptation. For he ought to have trusted
that God would save both him and his wife.... It is on account
of this deed that his children had to suffer exile under the rule of
Pharaoh. There, where the sin was committed, also the judgment
took place.” It is also worth noticing that, in opposition to Mai-
monides, he allows no apology for the attack of Simeon and Levi
on the population of Shechem (Gen. xxxiv. 25). It is true that
91
According to a Jewish tradition (the date of which is uncertain) the advent
of the Messiah, the Son of David, will be preceded by that of the Messiah, the
Son of Joseph. The latter will perish in the battle against Gog and Magog (the
Antichrist of Jewish literature), but will soon be brought back to life on the
appearance of the former. Cf. G. H. Dalman's Der leidende und der sterbende
Messias der Synagoge (Berlin, 1881).
IV. Nachmanides 129
they were idolaters, immoral, and steeped in every abomination;

but Jacob and his sons were not commissioned with executing
justice on them. The people of Shechem trusted their word,
therefore they ought to have spared them. Hence Jacob's protest,
and his curse against their wrath, which would have been quite
unjustified had he looked on the action of his sons as a good
work.
Besides these typical meanings, the matters of the Torah have
also their symbolical importance, which places them almost
above the sphere of human conception; they are neither exactly
what they seem to be nor entirely what their name implies, but a
reflex from things unseen, which makes any human interference
both preposterous and dangerous. Of “the things called Tree of
Life and Tree of Knowledge,” Nachmanides tells us that their
mystery is very great, reaching into higher worlds. Otherwise,
why should God, who is good and the dispenser of good, have [127]
prevented Adam from eating the fruit (of the latter), whilst in
another place he says: “And if thou wilt be worthy, and un-
derstand the mystery of the word Bereshith92 (with which the
Torah begins), thou wilt see that in truth the Scripture, though
apparently speaking of matters here below (on earth), is always
pointing to things above (heaven);” for “every glory and every
wonder, and every deep mystery, and all beautiful wisdom are
hidden in the Torah, sealed up in her treasures.”
It is very characteristic of the bent of Nachmanides' mind, that
he is perhaps the first Jewish writer who mentions the apocryphal
book The Wisdom of Solomon, which he knew from a Syriac
version, and which he believed to be genuine. And when we read
there (vii. 7-25), “Wherefore I prayed and understanding was
given to me. I called upon God and the spirit of wisdom came
upon me.... For God has given me unmistakable knowledge to
know how the world was made, and the operations of the planets.
92
, “In the beginning,” Gen. i. 1.
The beginning, ending, and midst of the times, the alterations

and the turnings of the sun, the changes of the seasons, the
natures of the living creatures and the furies of the wild beasts,
the force of the spirits and the reasonings of men, the diversities
of plants and the virtues of the roots. All such things that are
either secret or manifest, them I knew”—the wise king was,
according to Nachmanides (who quotes the passages which I
have just cited), speaking of the Torah, which is identical with
this wisdom, a wisdom which existed before the creation, and by
which God planned the world. Hence it bears the impression of
all the universe, whilst on the other hand when it is said, “The
[128] king brought me into his chambers,” those secret recesses of
the Torah are meant in which all the great mysteries relating to
Creation and to the Chariot (Ezekiel i.) are hidden.
We must content ourselves with these few sparks struck from
the glowing fires of these inner compartments, which, imperfect-
ly luminous as my treatment has left them, may yet shed some
light on the personality of Nachmanides, which is the main object
of this essay. But I do not propose to accompany the mystic into
the “chambers of the king,” lest we may soon get into a labyrinth
of obscure terms and strange ways of thinking for which the
Ariadne thread is still wanting. We might also be confronted
by the Fifty Gates of Understanding, the Thirty-Two Paths of
Wisdom, and the Two Hundred and Thirty-One Permutations
or Ciphers of the Alphabet, the key to which I do not hold. It
is also questionable whether it would always be worth while to
seek for it. When one, for instance, sees such a heaping on of
nouns (with some Cabbalists) as the Land of Life, the Land of
Promise, the Lord of the World, the Foundation Stone, Zion,
Mother, Daughter, Sister, the Congregation of Israel, the Twin
Roes, the Bride, Blue, End, Oral Law, Sea, Wisdom, etc., meant
to represent the same thing or attribute, and to pass one into
another, one cannot possibly help feeling some suspicion that
one stands before a conglomerate of words run riot, over which
IV. Nachmanides 131
the writer had lost all control.

Indeed Nachmanides himself, in the preface to the above-men-
tioned Commentary, gives us the kind advice not to meditate, or
rather brood, over the mystical hints which are scattered over this
work, “speculation being (in such matters) folly, and reasoning
over them fraught with danger.” Indeed, the danger is obvious. [129]
I have, to give one or two instances, already alluded to the
theory which accepts the Torah or the Wisdom as an agent in the
creation of the world. But the mystic pushes further, and asks
for the Primal Being to which this Wisdom owes its origin. The
answer given is from the great Nothing, as it is written, And the
Wisdom shall be found from Nothing.93 What is intended by
this, if it means anything, is probably to divest the first cause of
every possible quality which by its very qualifying nature must
be limiting and exclusive. Hence, God becomes the Unknow-
able. But suppose a metaphysical Hamlet, who, handling words
indelicately, should impetuously exclaim, To be or not to be, that
is the question?—into what abyss of utter negations would he
drag all those who despair, by his terrible Nothing.
On the other hand, into what gross anthropomorphisms may
we be drawn by roughly handling certain metaphors which some
Cabbalists have employed in their struggling after an adequate
expression of God's manifestations in His attribute of love, if we
forget for a single moment that they are only figures of speech,
but liable to get defiled by the slightest touch of an unchaste
thought.
But the greater the dangers that beset the path of mysticism,
the deeper the interest which we feel in the mystic. In connection
with the above-mentioned warning, Nachmanides cites the words
from the Scriptures, “But let not the priests and the people break
through to come up unto the Lord, lest he break forth upon them”
(Exod. xix. 24). Nevertheless, when we read in the Talmud the
93
; Job xxvii. 12.
famous story of the four Rabbis94 who went up into the Pardes,
[130] or Garden of Mystical Contemplation, we do not withhold our
sympathy, either from Ben Azzai, who shot a glance and died, or
from Ben Zoma, who shot a glance and was struck (in his mind).
Nay, we feel the greatest admiration for these daring spirits, who,
in their passionate attempt to “break through” the veil before
the Infinite, hazarded their lives, and even that which is dearer
than life, their minds, for a single glance. And did R. Meir deny
his sympathies even to Other One or Elisha ben Abuyah, who
“cut down the plants”? He is said to have heard a voice from
heaven, “Return, oh backsliding children, except Other One,”
which prevented his repentance. Poor fallen Acher, he mistook
hell for heaven. But do not the struggle and despair which led to
this unfortunate confusion rather plead for our commiseration?
Nachmanides, however, in his gentle way, did not mean to
storm heaven. Like R. Akiba, “he entered in peace, and departed
in peace.” And it was by this peacefulness of his nature that he
gained an influence over posterity which is equalled only by that
of Maimonides. “If he was not a profound thinker,” like the
author of the Guide of the Perplexed, he had that which is next
best—“he felt profoundly.” Some writers of a rather reactionary
character even went so far as to assign to him a higher place
than to Maimonides. This is unjust. What a blank would there
have been in Jewish thought but for Maimonides' great work, on
which the noblest thinkers of Israel fed for centuries! As long
as Job and Ecclesiastes hold their proper place in the Bible, and
the Talmud contains hundreds of passages suggesting difficulties
relating to such problems as the creation of the world, God's
exact relation to it, the origin of evil, free will and predestination,
[131] none will persuade me that philosophy does not form an integral
94
Chagigah 14b. The activity of these four Rabbis falls chiefly in the second
century. R. Akiba died as a martyr in the Hadrianic persecution (about 130).
Elisha b. Abuyah, the apostate, was usually called , Acher, “the other
one.”
IV. Nachmanides 133
part of Jewish tradition, which, in its historical developments,

took the shape which Maimonides and his successors gave to it.
If Maimonides' Guide, which he considered as an interpretation
of the Bible and of many strange sayings in the old Rabbinic
homilies in the Talmud, is Aristotelian in its tone, so is tradition
too; even the Talmud in many places betrays all sorts of foreign
influences, and none would think of declaring it un-Jewish on
this ground. I may also remark in passing that the certainty
with which some writers deprecate the aids which religion may
receive from philosophy is a little too hasty. For the question
will always remain, What religion? The religion of R. Moses of
Tachau or R. Joseph Jabez95 would certainly have been great-
ly endangered by the slightest touch of speculation, while that
of Bachya,96 Maimonides, Jedaiah of Bedres, and Delmedigo
undoubtedly received from philosophy its noblest support, and
became intensified by the union.
But apart from that consideration, the sphere of the activity
of these two leaders seems to have been so widely different that
it is hardly just to consider them as antagonists, or at least to
emphasise the antagonism too much. Maimonides wrote his chief
work, the Guide, for the few elect, who, like Ibn Tibbon97 for
instance, would traverse whole continents if a single syllogism
went wrong. And if he could be of use to one wise man of this
stamp, Maimonides would do so at the risk of “saying things
unsuitable for ten thousand fools.” But with Nachmanides, it
would seem, it was these ten thousand who formed the main
object of his tender care. They are, as we have seen, cultivated
95
The former lived in the twelfth, the latter in the sixteenth, century. They are
both known for their hostility to philosophy.
96
Bachya wrote in the eleventh century a famous book called
, The Duties of the Heart. For the others see
above, p. 13 and note, p. 49 and note, p. 102 and note, p. 97 and note, p. 71
and note. They all belong to the rationalistic school.
97
A younger contemporary of Maimonides, who translated the Guide from
Arabic into Hebrew.
[132] men, indeed “students,” having enjoyed a proper education; but

the happy times of abstract thinking have gone, and being under
a perpetual strain of persecutions and cares, they long for the
Sabbath and Festivals, which would bring them both bodily and
spiritual recreation. They find no fault with religion, a false
syllogism does not jar on their ears; what they are afraid of is
that, being engaged as they are, all the six days of work, in their
domestic affairs, religion may be too good a thing for them. “To
appease their minds,” to edify them, to make life more sweet
and death less terrible to them, and to show them that even their
weaknesses, as far as they are conditioned by nature, are not
irreconcilable with a holy life, was what Nachmanides strove
after. Now and then he permits them a glance into the mystical
world in which he himself loved to move, but he does not care to
stifle their senses into an idle contemplation, and passes quickly
to some more practical application. To be sure, the tabernacle
is nothing but a complete map of the superlunar world; but
nevertheless its rather minute description is meant to teach us
“that God desires us to work.”
This tendency toward being useful to the great majority of
mankind may account for the want of consistency of which
Nachmanides was so often accused. It is only the logician who
can afford to be thoroughgoing in his theory, and even he would
become most absurd and even dangerous but for the redeeming
fact “that men are better than their principles.” But with Nach-
manides these “principles” would have proved even more fatal.
Could he, for instance, have upset authority in the face of the
ten thousand? They need to be guided rather than to guide. But
[133] he does not want them to follow either the Gaon or anybody
else slavishly, “the gates of wisdom never having been shut,”
whilst on the other hand he hints to them that there is something
divine in every man, which places him at least on the same high
level with any authority. Take another instance—his wavering
attitude between the Maimonists and the Anti-Maimonists, for
IV. Nachmanides 135
which he was often censured. Apart from other reasons, to which

I have pointed above, might he not have felt that, in spite of his
personal admiration for Maimonides' genius, he had no right to
put himself entirely on the side where there was little room for
the ten thousand who were entrusted to his guidance, whilst the
French Rabbis, with all their prejudices and intolerance, would
never deny their sympathies to simple emotional folk?
This tender and absorbing care for the people in general may
also account for the fact that we do not know of a single treatise
by Nachmanides of a purely Cabbalistic character in the style
of the Book of Weight, by Moses de Leon, or the Orchard, by
R. Moses Cordovora, or the Tree of Life by R. Isaac Loria.98
The story that attributes to him the discovery of the Zohar in a
cave in Palestine, from whence he sent it to Catalonia, needs as
little refutation as the other story connected with his conversion
to the Cabbalah, which is even more silly and of such a nature
as not to bear repetition. The Lilac of Mysteries99 and other
mystical works passed also for a long time under his name, but
their claim to this honour has been entirely disproved by the
bibliographers, and they rank now among the pseudepigraphica.
It is true that R. Nissim, of Gerona, said of Nachmanides that he
was too much addicted to the belief in the Cabbalah, and as a
fellow-countryman he may have had some personal knowledge [134]
about the matter. But as far as his writings go, this belief finds
expression only in incidental remarks and occasional citations
from the Bahir,100 which he never thrusts upon the reader. It was
chiefly when philosophy called in question his deep sympathies
with even lower humanity, and threatened to withdraw them
98
. See above, p. 18. R. Moses Cordovora, the author of
the , lived in Safed in the sixteenth century. For R. Isaac Loria, the
author of the , see above, note 5 to Elijah Wilna.
99
.
100
, a forgery by a Provençal Jew of the thirteenth century,
who attributed it to a Rabbi of the first century.
from those ennobling influences under which he wanted to keep

them, that he asserted his mystical theories.
Nachmanides' inconsistency has also proved beneficial in an-
other respect. For mysticism has, by its over-emphasising of
the divine in man, shown a strong tendency to remove God
altogether and replace Him by the creature of His hands. Witness
only the theological bubble of Shabbethai Tsebi—happily it burst
quickly enough—which resulted in mere idolatry (in more polite
language, Hero Worship) on the one side, and in the grossest
antinomianism on the other. Nachmanides, however, with a
happy inconsistency, combined with the belief of man's origin
in God, a not less strong conviction of man's liability to sin, of
the fact that he does sin—even the patriarchs were not free from
it, as we have seen above—and that this sin does alienate man
from God. This healthy control over man's extravagant idea of
his own species was with Nachmanides also a fruit of the Torah,
within the limits of which everything must move, the mystic and
his aspirations included, whilst its fair admixture of 365 Do not's
with 248 Do's preserved him from that “holy doing nothing”
which so many mystics indulged in, and made his a most active
life.
Much of this activity was displayed in Palestine, “the land to
which the providence of God is especially attached,” and which
[135] was, as with R. Judah Hallevi, always “his ideal home.” There he
not only completed his Commentary on the Pentateuch, but also
erected synagogues, and engaged in organising communities,
whose tone he tried to elevate both by his lectures and by his
sermons. His career in Palestine was not a long one, for he lived
there only about three years, and in 1270 he must already have
been dead. A pretty legend narrates that when he emigrated to
Palestine his pupils asked him to give them a sign enabling them
to ascertain the day of his death. He answered them that on that
day a rift in the shape of a lamp would be seen in the tombstone
of his mother. After three years a pupil suddenly noticed this
IV. Nachmanides 137
rift, when the mourning over the Rabbi began. Thus, stone, or
anything else earthly, breaks finally, and the life of the master
passes into light.
What life meant to him, how deeply he was convinced that
there is no other life but that originating in God, how deeply
stirred his soul was by the consciousness of sin, what agonies the
thought of the alienation from God caused him, how he felt that
there is nothing left to him but to throw himself upon the mercy
of God, and how he rejoiced in the hope of a final reunion with
Him—of all these sentiments we find the best expression in the
following religious poem, with which this paper may conclude.
Nachmanides composed it in Hebrew, and it is still preserved in
some rituals as a hymn, recited on the Day of Atonement. It is
here given in the English translation of Mrs. Henry Lucas.101
Ere time began, ere age to age had thrilled,

I waited in his storehouse, as he willed;
He gave me being, but, my years fulfilled,
I shall be summoned back before the King.
[136]
He called the hidden to the light of day,
To right and left, each side the fountain lay,
From out the stream and down the steps, the way
That led me to the garden of the King.
Thou gavest me a light my path to guide,

To prove my heart's recesses still untried;
And as I went, thy voice in warning cried:
"Child! fear thou him who is thy God and King!"
True weight and measure learned my heart from thee;

If blessings follow, then what joy for me!
If nought but sin, all mine the shame must be,
For that was not determined by the King.
101
This hymn is now incorporated in her excellent little book, Songs of Zion,
pp. 13-15.
I hasten, trembling, to confess the whole

Of my transgressions, ere I reach the goal
Where mine own words must witness 'gainst my soul,
And who dares doubt the writing of the King?
Erring, I wandered in the wilderness,

In passion's grave nigh sinking powerless;
Now deeply I repent, in sore distress,
That I kept not the statutes of the King!
With worldly longings was my bosom fraught,

Earth's idle toys and follies all I sought;
Ah! when he judges joys so dearly bought,
How greatly shall I fear my Lord and King!
Now conscience-stricken, humbled to the dust,

Doubting himself, in thee alone his trust,
He shrinks in terror back, for God is just—
How can a sinner hope to reach the King?
Oh, be thy mercy in the balance laid,

To hold thy servant's sins more lightly weighed,
When, his confession penitently made,
He answers for his guilt before the King.
[137]
Thine is the love, O God, and thine the grace,
That folds the sinner in its mild embrace;
Thine the forgiveness, bridging o'er the space
'Twixt man's works and the task set by the King.
Unheeding all my sins, I cling to thee;

I know that mercy shall thy footstool be:
Before I call, oh, do thou answer me,
For nothing dare I claim of thee, my King!
O thou, who makest guilt to disappear,

My help, my hope, my rock, I will not fear;
Though thou the body hold in dungeon drear,
The soul has found the palace of the King!
IV. Nachmanides 139
POSTSCRIPT
The third letter of Nachmanides to which I have alluded
above, is embodied in the following will by R. Solomon, son of
the martyr Isaac. Neither the date nor the country of the testator
is known, but style and language make it probable that he was a
Spanish Jew, and lived in the fourteenth century. I give here a
translation from the whole document as it is to be found in the
Manuscripts.
These are the regulations which I, Solomon, the son of the

martyr, Rabbi Isaac, the son of R. Zadok, of blessed memory,
draw up for myself. That as long as I am in good health, and
free from accident, and think of it, I shall not eat before I
have studied one page of the Talmud or of its commentaries.
Should I transgress this rule intentionally, I must not drink
wine on that day, or I shall pay half a Zehub102 to charity.
Again, that I shall every week read the Lesson twice in the
Hebrew text, and once in the Aramaic version. Should I in-
tentionally omit completing the Lesson as above, then I must
pay two Zehubs to charity. Again, that I shall every Sabbath
take three meals, consisting of bread or fruit. Should I omit
to do so, I must give in charity half a Zehub. Again, in order [138]
to subdue my appetites, and not to enjoy in this world more
than is necessary for the maintenance of my body, I must not
eat at one meal more than one course of meat, and not more
than two courses altogether; nor must I drink more than two
cups of wine at one meal, apart from the blessing-cup (over
which grace is said), except on Sabbath, Festivals, Chanukah
(the Maccabean Dedication Feast), New Moon, and at other
religious meals (for instance, wedding-dinners and similar
festive occasions). Again, I must not have any regular meal
on the day preceding Sabbath or Festivals. I must not have
during the day more than one course, so that I shall enter upon
102
, a gold piece. The country and the date of the writer not being
certain, it is impossible to determine the value of this coin.
the holy day with a good appetite. Should I transgress this

resolve intentionally I shall have to fast a day, or to pay two
Zehubs. Again, that I shall not eat the fish called burbot,103 if
I think of it. Again, even on the above-mentioned days, I must
not eat more than three courses at a meal, nor drink more than
three cups of wine, exclusive of the blessing-cup. Again, ...
I must not swear by God, nor mention the name of Heaven
without a purpose, nor curse any man in the name of God.
Should I, God forbid, transgress it, I must not drink more than
one cup of wine on that day exclusive of the blessing-cup.
Should I, however, transgress this after dinner, I must abstain
from wine the following day. Should I transgress it, I have
to pay half a Zehub. Again, that I shall get up every night to
praise God, to supplicate for His mercy, and to confess. On
those nights when confession is not to be said (Sabbaths and
Festivals), I shall say hymns and psalms. This I shall do when
I am in my house, and in good health, free from any accident.
Should I transgress it, I shall drink not more than one cup of
wine the following day, except the blessing-cup. I again take
upon myself to give in charity the following proportion of my
expenditure—from each dress which I shall have made for
myself or for one member of my family, costing more than ten
Zehubs, I must pay one Pashut104 for each ten Zehubs. Again,
if I should buy an animal, or a slave, or a female slave, or
ground, that I shall also pay at the same rate. And if I shall buy
clothes for sale, called fashas, I shall pay two Pashuts for each
garment. As often as I have occasion to say the benediction
[139] of thanksgivings for having escaped danger I shall pay a
Zehub, except when I am travelling [also involving danger in
those times!], in which case I shall have to pay a Zehub on
my arrival, and two Pashuts daily during the journey. Again,
from every kind of fish bought for me, costing more than a
103
The lawfulness of eating this fish (= sturgeon?) was contested for many
centuries, and the controversy still continues.
104
, a smaller coin than the Zehub.
IV. Nachmanides 141
Zehub, I shall pay a Pashut for each Zehub. And also, if I

shall be deemed worthy by God to marry my children, and to
be present at their wedding, to cause them to give to the poor
from the dowry brought to them by their wives, whether in
money or in kind, at the rate of one per cent. If God will find
me worthy of having sons, I must give in charity according to
my means at the time.
I shall also, between New Year and the Day of Atonement
in each year, calculate my profits during the past year and
(after deducting expenses) give a tithe thereof to the poor.
Should I be unable to make an accurate calculation, then I
shall give approximately. This tithe I shall put aside, together
with the other money for religious (charitable) purpose, to
dispose of it as I shall deem best. I also propose to have the
liberty of employing the money in any profitable speculation
with a view to augmenting it. But in respect of all I have
written above I shall not hold myself guilty if I transgress, if
such transgression be the result of forgetfulness; but in order
to guard against it, I shall read this through weekly.
I also command my children to take upon themselves as
many of the above regulations as may be in their power to
observe, and also to bind them (i.e. the regulations), from
generation to generation, upon their children. And he who
carries them out, and even adds to them, at pain of discomfort
to himself, shall merit a special blessing. And this is the text
of the will which I, the above-mentioned Solomon, draw up
for my children, may God preserve them. That they shall
pray thrice daily, and endeavour always to utter their prayers
with devotion. Again, that this prayer shall be said in the
Beth Hammidrash, or in the synagogue together with the
congregation. Again, that they shall apply all their powers to
maintain the synagogues and the houses of study, which our
ancestors have built, as well as to continue the endowments
established by my ancestors and myself. They must always
endeavour to imitate them, so that goodness shall never cease [140]
from among them. Again, that they shall always have a chair
on which a volume of the Talmud, or some other Talmudical

work, shall lie; so that they shall always open a book when
they come home. At least, they shall read in any book they
like four lines before taking their meal. Again, that they shall
every week read the Lesson twice in the Hebrew text, and
once in the Aramaic version. Again, to take three meals on
the Sabbath....
Again, that they shall be always modest, merciful, and
charitable, for these are the qualities by which the children of
Israel are known. Let also all their thoughts and meditations
be always directed to the service of the Lord, and be as char-
itable and benevolent as possible, for this is all that remains
to man of his labour. They shall also endeavour to regulate
their diet according to the rules laid down by Rabbi Moses
(b. Maimon, or Maimonides), so as to fulfil the words of
Scripture: “The righteous eateth to the satisfying of his soul.”
And let them always be careful not to take the name of God
in vain, to be honest in all business transactions, and let their
yea be always yea. They shall always be under the obligation
to train their children to the Study of the Torah, but one shall
devote his life exclusively to the study thereof. And it shall be
incumbent upon his brothers to support this one, and to invest
his moneys, and to provide for him that he and his family
may live respectably, so that he be not distracted by worldly
cares from his studies. Let also the elder love the younger
brothers as their own children, and the younger respect the
elder as a parent. Thus they may always bear in mind that
they are of a God-fearing family. Let them love and honour
scholars, thus to merit the honour of having scholars for their
sons and sons-in-law. This will they shall themselves read
weekly, and shall also make it incumbent upon their children,
from generation to generation, to read weekly, in order to
fulfil what is written (Gen. xviii. 19), “For I know him that he
will command his children,” etc., and also the words of Isaiah
(lix. 21), “And this is my covenant,” etc. But as often as they
shall read this will, they shall also read the two letters below
IV. Nachmanides 143
written, which Rabbi Moses ben Nachman sent to his sons,

with a view of being serviceable to them in many respects. [141]
Should, heaven forbid, they be by any sad accident prevented
from fulfilling the injunctions above laid down, they must fine
themselves by not drinking wine on that day, or by eating one
course less at the dinner, or by giving some fine in charity....
And this is the letter which the above-mentioned Rabbi sent

from the Holy Land to Castile, when his son was staying before
the king (in his service):—
“... May God bless you and preserve you from sin and punish-
ment. Behold, our master, King David, had a son, wise and
of an understanding heart, like unto whom there was never
one before or after. Nevertheless he said to him (1 Kings ii.
2): ‘And keep the charge of the Lord thy God,’ etc. He also
said to him: ‘And thou, my son, know the God of thy father’
(1 Chron. xxviii. 9). Now, my son, if thou wilt measure
thyself with Solomon, thou wilt find thyself a worm—not a
man, merely an insect; nevertheless, if thou wilt seek God, he
will make thee great; and if thou wilt forsake him, thou wilt
be turned out and forsaken. My son, be careful that thou read
the Shema105 morning and evening, as well as that thou say
the daily prayers. Have always with thee a Pentateuch written
correctly, and read therein the Lesson for each Sabbath....
‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord,’ for the thing which thou
believest far from thee is often very near unto thee. Know,
again, that thou art not master over thy words, nor hast power
over thy hand; but everything is in the hand of the Lord, who
formeth thy heart.... Be especially careful to keep aloof from
the women [of the court?]. Know that our God hates im-
morality, and Balaam could in no other way injure Israel than
by inciting them to unchastity. [Here come many quotations
from Malachi and Ezra.]... My son, remember me always, and
105
, “Hear,” the verses from Deut. vi. 4-9, xi. 13-21, and Num. xv.
37-41, recited twice a day by the Jews.
let the image of my countenance be never absent from before

thine eyes. Love not that which I hate.... Let the words of the
Psalmist be always upon thy lips, ‘I am a stranger in the earth:
hide not thy commandments from me’ (Ps. cxix. 19); and
God, who is good and the dispenser of good, shall increase
thy peace and prolong thy life in peace and happiness, and
promote thy honour according to thy wish and the wish of thy
father who begat thee, Moses ben Nachman.”
[142]
V. A Jewish Boswell
There is a saying in the Talmud “Nothing exists of which there is

not some indication in the Torah.” These words are often quoted,
and some modern authors have pressed them so far as to find
even the discoveries of Columbus and the inventions of Watt and
Stephenson indicated in the Law. This is certainly misapplied
ingenuity. But it is hardly an exaggeration to maintain that there
is no noble manifestation of real religion, no expression of real
piety, reverence, and devotion, to which Jewish literature would
not offer a fair parallel.
Thus it will hardly be astonishing to hear that Jewish literature
has its Boswell to show, more than three centuries before the
Scottish gentleman came to London to admire his Johnson, and
more than four centuries before the Sage of Chelsea delivered
his lectures on Hero Worship. And this Jewish Boswell was
guided only by the motives suggested to him in the old Rabbinic
literature. In this literature the reverence for the great man, and
the absorption of one's whole self in him, went so far that one
Rabbi declared that the whole world was only created to serve
such a man as company.106
Again, the fact that, in the language of the Rabbis, the term
for studying the Law and discussing it is “to attend” or rather [143]
“to serve the disciples of the Wise” may also have led people to
the important truth that the great man is not a lecturing machine,
but a sort of living Law himself. “When the man,” said one
Rabbi, “has wholly devoted himself to the Torah, and thoroughly
identified himself with it, it becomes almost his own Torah.”
106
Sabbath, 30b.
Thus people have not only to listen to his words but to observe
his whole life, and to profit from all his actions and movements.
This was what the Jewish Boswell sought to do. His name
was Rabbi Solomon, of St. Goar, a small town on the Rhine,
while the name of the master whom he served was R. Jacob,
the Levite, better known by his initials Maharil, who filled the
office of Chief Rabbi in Mayence and Worms successively. The
main activity of Maharil falls in the first three decades of the
fifteenth century. Those were troublous times for a Rabbi. For
the preceding century with its persecution and sufferings—one
has only to think of the Black Death and its terrible consequences
for the Jews—led to the destruction of the great Schools, the
decay of the study of the Law, and to the dissolution of many
congregations. Those which remained lost all touch with each
other, so that almost every larger Jewish community had its own
Minhag or ritual custom.107
It was Maharil who brought some order into this chaos, and
in the course of time his influence asserted itself so strongly
that the rules observed by him in the performing of religious
ceremonies were accepted by the great majority of the Jewish
communities. Thus the personality of Maharil himself became a
[144] standing Minhag, suppressing all the other Minhagim (customs).
But there must have been something very strong and very great
about the personality of the man who could succeed in such an
arduous task. For we must not forget that the Minhag or custom
in its decay degenerates into a kind of religious fashion, the worst
disease to which religion is liable, and the most difficult to cure.
It is therefore an irreparable loss both for Jewish literature and
for Jewish history, that the greatest part of Maharil's posthumous
writings are no longer extant, so that our knowledge about him
is very small. But the little we know of him we owe chiefly to
107
, pl. (Minhagim), applied usually to those ritual
customs and ceremonies for which there is no distinct authority in the Scriptures
or even in the Talmud.
V. A Jewish Boswell 147
the communicativeness of his servant, the Solomon of St. Goar

whom I mentioned above.
Solomon not only gave us the “Customs” of his master, but
also observed him closely in all his movements, and conscien-
tiously wrote down all that he saw and heard, under the name of
Collectanea. It seems that the bulk of these Collectanea was also
lost. But in the fragments that we still possess we are informed,
among other things, how Maharil addressed his wife, how he
treated his pupils, how careful he was in the use of his books,
and even how clean his linen was. Is this not out-Boswelling
Boswell?
The most striking point of agreement between the Boswell of
the fifteenth and him of the eighteenth century, is that they both
use the same passage from the Talmud to excuse the interest
in trifles which their labours of love betrayed. Thus Solomon
prefaces his Collectanea with the following words: “It is written,
His leaf shall not wither. These words were explained by our
Sages to mean that even the idle talk of the disciples of the wise
deserves a study. Upon this interpretation I have relied. In my
love to R. Jacob the Levite, I collected everything about him.
I did not refuse even small things, though many derided me. [145]
Everything I wrote down, for such was the desire of my heart.”
Thus far Solomon. Now, if we turn to the introduction to
Boswell's Life of Johnson, we read the following sentence: “For
this almost superstitious reverence, I have found very old and
venerable authority quoted by our great modern prelate, Secker,
in whose tenth sermon there is the following passage: ‘Rabbi
Kimchi, a noted Jewish commentator who lived about five hun-
dred years ago, explains that passage in the first Psalm, “His leaf
also shall not wither” from Rabbins yet older than himself, that
even the idle talk, so he expressed it, of a good man ought to be
regarded.’ ”
Croker's note to this passage sounds rather strange. This editor
says: “Kimchi was a Spanish Rabbi, who died in 1240. One
wonders that Secker's good sense should have condescended to

quote this far-fetched and futile interpretation of the simple and
beautiful metaphor, by which the Psalmist illustrates the pros-
perity of the righteous man.” Now Kimchi died at least five years
earlier than Croker states, but dates, we know from Macaulay's
essay on the subject, were not Croker's strong point. But one
can hardly forgive the editor of Boswell this lack of sympathy.
Had he known what strong affinity there was between his most
Christian author and the humble Jew Solomon, he would have
less resented this condescension of Archbishop Secker.
As for the Jewish Boswell himself, we know very little about
him. The only place in which he speaks about his own person is
that in which he derives his pedigree from R. Eleazar ben Samuel
Hallevi (died 1357), and says that he was generally called “Der
[146] gute (the good) R. Salman.” He well deserved this appellation.
In his Will we find the following injunction to his children: “Be
honest, and conscientious in your dealing with men, with Jews
as well as Gentiles, be kind and obliging to them; do not speak
what is superfluous.” And wisdom is surely rare enough to render
inappropriate a charge of superfluousness against the work of
those who in bygone times spent their energies in gathering the
crumbs that fell from the tables of the wise.
[147]
VI. The Dogmas Of Judaism
The object of this essay is to say about the dogmas of Judaism a

word which I think ought not to be left unsaid.
In speaking of dogmas it must be understood that Judaism
does not ascribe to them any saving power. The belief in a
dogma or a doctrine without abiding by its real or supposed con-
sequences (e.g. the belief in creatio ex nihilo without keeping the
Sabbath) is of no value. And the question about certain doctrines
is not whether they possess or do not possess the desired charm
against certain diseases of the soul, but whether they ought to be
considered as characteristics of Judaism or not.
It must again be premised that the subject, which occupied the
thoughts of the greatest and noblest Jewish minds for so many
centuries, has been neglected for a comparatively long time. And
this for various reasons. First, there is Mendelssohn's assertion,
or supposed assertion, in his Jerusalem, that Judaism has no dog-
mas—an assertion which has been accepted by the majority of
modern Jewish theologians as the only dogma Judaism possesses.
You can hear it pronounced in scores of Jewish pulpits; you can
read it written in scores of Jewish books. To admit the possibility
that Mendelssohn was in error was hardly permissible, especially
for those with whom he enjoys a certain infallibility. Nay, even [148]
the fact that he himself was not consistent in his theory, and on
another occasion declared that Judaism has dogmas, only that
they are purer and more in harmony with reason than those of
other religions; or even the more important fact that he published
a school-book for children, in which the so-called Thirteen Arti-
cles were embodied, only that instead of the formula “I believe,”
he substituted “I am convinced,”—even such patent facts did not
produce much effect upon many of our modern theologians.108

They were either overlooked or explained away so as to make
them harmonise with the great dogma of dogmalessness. For it
is one of the attributes of infallibility that the words of its happy
possessor must always be reconcilable even when they appear to
the eye of the unbeliever as gross contradictions.
Another cause of the neglect into which the subject has fallen
is that our century is an historical one. It is not only books that
have their fate, but also whole sciences and literatures. In past
times it was religious speculation that formed the favourite study
of scholars, in our time it is history with its critical foundation on
a sound philology. Now as these two most important branches
of Jewish science were so long neglected—were perhaps never
cultivated in the true meaning of the word, and as Jewish liter-
ature is so vast and Jewish history so far-reaching and eventful,
we cannot wonder that these studies have absorbed the time and
the labour of the greatest and best Jewish writers in this century.
There is, besides, a certain tendency in historical studies that
is hostile to mere theological speculation. The historian deals
[149] with realities, the theologian with abstractions. The latter likes
to shape the universe after his system, and tells us how things
ought to be, the former teaches us how they are or have been,
and the explanation he gives for their being so and not other-
wise includes in most cases also a kind of justification for their
existence. There is also the odium theologicum, which has been
the cause of so much misfortune that it is hated by the historian,
whilst the superficial, rationalistic way in which the theologian
manages to explain everything which does not suit his system is
108
Jerusalem, in Mendelssohn's Sämmtliche Werke (Vienna, 1838), especially
from p. 264 onwards, and a letter by him published in Frankel-Graetz's
Monatsschrift, 1859, p. 173. For Mendelssohn's position, see Graetz's
Geschichte, xi. 86 seq., especially p. 88 and note 1; Kayserling, Leben und
Werke of M., 2d ed., p. 394; Steinheim, Moses Mendelssohn (Hamburg, 1840),
p. 30 seq.; Holdheim, Moses Mendelssohn (Berlin, 1859), p. 18 seq.; Leopold
Löw's pamphlet, Jüdische Dogmen (Pesth, 1871).
VI. The Dogmas Of Judaism 151
most repulsive to the critical spirit.

But it cannot be denied that this neglect has caused much
confusion. Especially is this noticeable in England, which is
essentially a theological country, and where people are but little
prone to give up speculation about things which concern their
most sacred interest and greatest happiness. Thus whilst we are
exceedingly poor in all other branches of Jewish learning, we are
comparatively rich in productions of a theological character. We
have a superfluity of essays on such delicate subjects as eternal
punishment, immortality of the soul, the day of judgment, etc.,
and many treatises on the definition of Judaism. But knowing
little or nothing of the progress recently made in Jewish theology,
of the many protests against all kinds of infallibility, whether
canonised in this century or in olden times, we in England still
maintain that Judaism has no dogmas as if nothing to the con-
trary had ever been said. We seek the foundation of Judaism
in political economy, in hygiene, in everything except religion.
Following the fashion of the day to esteem religion in proportion
to its ability to adapt itself to every possible and impossible
metaphysical and social system, we are anxious to squeeze out [150]
of Judaism the last drop of faith and hope, and strive to make
it so flexible that we can turn it in every direction which it is
our pleasure to follow. But alas! the flexibility has progressed
so far as to classify Judaism among the invertebrate species, the
lowest order of living things. It strongly resembles a certain
Christian school which addresses itself to the world in general
and claims to satisfy everybody alike. It claims to be socialism
for the adherents of Karl Marx and Lassalle, worship of man
for the followers of Comte and St. Simon; it carefully avoids
the word “God” for the comfort of agnostics and sceptics, whilst
on the other hand it pretends to hold sway over paradise, hell,
and immortality for the edification of believers. In such illusions
many of our theologians delight. For illusions they are; you can-
not be everything if you want to be anything. Moreover, illusions
in themselves are bad enough, but we are menaced with what is

still worse. Judaism, divested of every higher religious motive,
is in danger of falling into gross materialism. For what else is
the meaning of such declarations as “Believe what you like, but
conform to this or that mode of life”; what else does it mean but
“We cannot expect you to believe that the things you are bidden
to do are commanded by a higher authority; there is not such a
thing as belief, but you ought to do them for conventionalism or
for your own convenience.”
But both these motives—the good opinion of our neighbours,
as well as our bodily health—have nothing to do with our no-
bler and higher sentiments, and degrade Judaism to a matter of
expediency or diplomacy. Indeed, things have advanced so far
that well-meaning but ill-advised writers even think to render a
[151] service to Judaism by declaring it to be a kind of enlightened
Hedonism, or rather a moderate Epicureanism.
I have no intention of here answering the question, What is
Judaism? This question is not less perplexing than the problem,
What is God's world? Judaism is also a great Infinite, composed
of as many endless Units, the Jews. And these Unit-Jews have
been, and are still, scattered through all the world, and have
passed under an immensity of influences, good and bad. If
so, how can we give an exact definition of the Infinite, called
Judaism?
But if there is anything sure, it is that the highest motives
which worked through the history of Judaism are the strong
belief in God and the unshaken confidence that at last this God,
the God of Israel, will be the God of the whole world; or, in other
words, Faith and Hope are the two most prominent characteristics
of Judaism.
In the following pages I shall try to give a short account of the
manner in which these two principles of Judaism found expres-
sion, from the earliest times down to the age of Mendelssohn;
that is, to present an outline of the history of Jewish Dogmas.
First, a few observations on the position of the Bible and the

Talmud in relation to our theme. Insufficient and poor as they
may be in proportion to the importance of these two fundamental
documents of Judaism, these remarks may nevertheless suggest
a connecting link between the teachings of Jewish antiquity and
those of Maimonides and his successors.
I begin with the Scriptures.
The Bible itself hardly contains a command bidding us to
believe. We are hardly ordered, e.g., to believe in the existence
of God. I say hardly, but I do not altogether deny the existence
of such a command. It is true that we do not find in the [152]
Scripture such words as: “You are commanded to believe in the
existence of God.” Nor is any punishment assigned as awaiting
him who denies it. Notwithstanding these facts, many Jewish
authorities—among them such important men as Maimonides,
R. Judah Hallevi, Nachmanides—perceive, in the first words of
the Ten Commandments, “I am the Lord thy God,” the command
to believe in His existence.109
Be this as it may, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt that the
Bible, in which every command is dictated by God, and in which
all its heroes are the servants, the friends, or the ambassadors of
God, presumes such a belief in every one to whom those laws
are dictated, and these heroes address themselves. Nay, I think
that the word “belief” is not even adequate. In a world with so
many visible facts and invisible causes, as life and death, growth
and decay, light and darkness; in a world where the sun rises and
sets; where the stars appear regularly; where heavy rains pour
down from the sky, often accompanied by such grand phenomena
as thunder and lightning; in a world full of such marvels, but
into which no notion has entered of all our modern true or false
explanations—who but God is behind all these things? “Have the
109
See the Commentaries on Maimonides' , especially R.
Simeon Duran's ; cf. also ancient and modern commen-
taries on Exod. xx. 2.
gates,” asks God, “have the gates of death been open to thee? or
hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death?... Where is the
way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the place
thereof?... Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops
of dew?... Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or
loose the bands of Orion?... Canst thou send lightnings, that they
may go, and say unto thee, Here we are?” (Job xxxviii.). Of all
[153] these wonders, God was not merely the prima causa; they were
the result of His direct action, without any intermediary causes.
And it is as absurd to say that the ancient world believed in God,
as for a future historian to assert of the nineteenth century that
it believed in the effects of electricity. We see them, and so
antiquity saw God. If there was any danger, it lay not in the
denial of the existence of a God, but in having a wrong belief.
Belief in as many gods as there are manifestations in nature, the
investing of them with false attributes, the misunderstanding of
God's relation to men, lead to immorality. Thus the greater part
of the laws and teachings of the Bible are either directed against
polytheism, with all its low ideas of God, or rather of gods; or
they are directed towards regulating God's relation to men. Man
is a servant of God, or His prophet, or even His friend. But this
relationship man obtains only by his conduct. Nay, all man's
actions are carefully regulated by God, and connected with His
holiness. The 19th chapter of Leviticus, which is considered by
the Rabbis as the portion of the Law in which the most important
articles of the Torah are embodied, is headed, “Ye shall be holy,
for I the Lord your own God am holy.” And each law therein
occurring, even those which concern our relations to each other,
is not founded on utilitarian reasons, but is ordained because the
opposite of it is an offence to the holiness of God, and profanes
His creatures, whom He desired to be as holy as He is.110
Thus the whole structure of the Bible is built upon the visible
110
See Siphra (ed. Weiss), pp. 86b, 93b.
fact of the existence of a God, and upon the belief in the relation
of God to men, especially to Israel. In spite of all that has been
said to the contrary, the Bible does lay stress upon belief, where
belief is required. The unbelievers are rebuked again and again. [154]
“For all this they sinned still, and believed not for His wondrous
work,” complains Asaph (Ps. lxxviii. 32). And belief is praised
in such exalted words as, “Thus saith the Lord, I remember thee,
the kindness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals, when thou
wentest after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown”
(Jer. ii. 2). The Bible, especially the books of the prophets,
consists, in great part, of promises for the future, which the
Rabbis justly termed the “Consolations.”111 For our purpose, it
is of no great consequence to examine what future the prophets
had in view, whether an immediate future or one more remote, at
the end of days. At any rate, they inculcated hope and confidence
that God would bring to pass a better time. I think that even the
most advanced Bible critic—provided he is not guided by some
modern Aryan reasons—must perceive in such passages as, “The
Lord shall reign for ever and ever,” “The Lord shall rejoice in his
works,” and many others, a hope for more than the establishment
of the “national Deity among his votaries in Palestine.”
We have now to pass over an interval of many centuries, the
length of which depends upon the views held as to the date
of the close of the canon, and examine what the Rabbis, the
representatives of the prophets, thought on this subject. Not that
the views of the author of the Wisdom of Solomon, of Philo and
Aristobulus, and many others of the Judæo-Alexandrian school
would be uninteresting for us. But somehow their influence
on Judaism was only a passing one, and their doctrines never
became authoritative in the Synagogue. We must here confine
ourselves to those who, even by the testimony of their bitterest [155]
enemies, occupied the seat of Moses.
111
Baba Bathra, 14b; cf. Fürst's Kanon, p. 15.
The successors of the prophets had to deal with new cir-

cumstances, and accordingly their teachings were adapted to the
wants of their times. As the result of manifold foreign influences,
the visible fact of the existence of God as manifested in the Bible
had been somewhat obscured. Prophecy ceased, and the Holy
Spirit which inspired a few chosen ones took its place. After-
wards this influence was reduced to the hearing of a Voice from
Heaven, which was audible to still fewer. On the other hand the
Rabbis had this advantage that they were not called upon to fight
against idolatry as their predecessors the prophets had been. The
evil inclination to worship idols was, as the Talmud expresses
it allegorically, killed by the Men of the Great Synagogue, or,
as we should put it, it was suppressed by the sufferings of the
captivity in Babylon. This change of circumstances is marked
by the following fact:—Whilst the prophets mostly considered
idolatry as the cause of all sin, the Rabbis show a strong tendency
to ascribe sin to a defect in, or a want of, belief on the part of
the sinner. They teach that Adam would not have sinned unless
he had first denied the “Root of all” (or the main principle),
namely, the belief in the Omnipresence of God. Of Cain they
say that before murdering his brother he declared: “There is no
judgment, there is no judge, there is no world to come, and there
is no reward for the just, and no punishment for the wicked.”112
In another place we read that the commission of a sin in secret
is an impertinent attempt by the doer to oust God from the world.
[156] But if unbelief is considered as the root of all evil, we may
expect that the reverse of it, a perfect faith, would be praised in
the most exalted terms. So we read: Faith is so great that the
man who possesses it may hope to become a worthy vessel of
the Holy Spirit, or, as we should express it, that he may hope
to obtain by this power the highest degree of communion with
his Maker. The Patriarch Abraham, notwithstanding all his other
112
See Sanhedrin, 38b, and Pseudo-Jonathan to Gen. iv. 8.
virtues, only became “the possessor of both worlds” by the merit

of his strong faith. Nay, even the fulfilment of a single law when
accompanied by true faith is, according to the Rabbis, sufficient
to bring man nigh to God. And the future redemption is also
conditional on the degree of faith shown by Israel.113
It has often been asked what the Rabbis would have thought
of a man who fulfils every commandment of the Torah, but
does not believe that this Torah was given by God, or that there
exists a God at all. It is indeed very difficult to answer this
question with any degree of certainty. In the time of the Rabbis
people were still too simple for such a diplomatic religion, and
conformity in the modern sense was quite an unknown thing. But
from the foregoing remarks it would seem that the Rabbis could
not conceive such a monstrosity as atheistic orthodoxy. For, as
we have seen, the Rabbis thought that unbelief must needs end
in sin, for faith is the origin of all good. Accordingly, in the
case just supposed they would have either suspected the man's
orthodoxy, or would have denied that his views were really what
he professed them to be.
Still more important than the above cited Agadic passages is
one which we are about to quote from the tractate Sanhedrin. This
tractate deals with the constitution, of the supreme law-court, [157]
the examination of the witnesses, the functions of the judges,
and the different punishment to be inflicted on the transgressors
of the law. After having enumerated various kinds of capital
punishment, the Mishnah adds the following words: “These are
(the men) who are excluded from the life to come: He who says
there is no resurrection from death; he who says there is no
Torah given from heaven, and the Epikurus.”114 This passage
was considered by the Rabbis of the Middle Ages, as well as
by modern scholars, the locus classicus for the dogma question.
There are many passages in the Rabbinic literature which ex-
113
Mechilta, 33b.
114
, Lat. Epicurus.
clude man from the world to come for this or that sin. But these
are more or less of an Agadic (legendary) character, and thus
lend themselves to exaggeration and hyperbolic language. They
cannot, therefore, be considered as serious legal dicta, or as the
general opinion of the Rabbis.
The Mishnah in Sanhedrin, however, has, if only by its posi-
tion in a legal tractate, a certain Halachic (obligatory) character.
And the fact that so early an authority as R. Akiba made additions
to it guarantees its high antiquity. The first two sentences of this
Mishnah are clear enough. In modern language, and positively
speaking, they would represent articles of belief in Resurrection
and Revelation. Great difficulty is found in defining what was
meant by the word Epikurus. The authorities of the Middle
Ages, to whom I shall again have to refer, explain the Epikurus
to be a man who denies the belief in reward and punishment;
others identify him with one who denies the belief in Providence;
while others again consider the Epikurus to be one who denies
[158] Tradition. But the parallel passages in which it occurs incline
one rather to think that this word cannot be defined by one kind
of heresy. It implies rather a frivolous treatment of the words of
Scripture or of Tradition. In the case of the latter (Tradition) it is
certainly not honest difference of opinion that is condemned; for
the Rabbis themselves differed very often from each other, and
even Mediæval authorities did not feel any compunction about
explaining Scripture in variance with the Rabbinic interpretation,
and sometimes they even went so far as to declare that the view
of this or that great authority was only to be considered as an
isolated opinion not deserving particular attention. What they
did blame was, as already said, scoffing and impiety. We may
thus safely assert that reverence for the teachers of Israel formed
the third essential principle of Judaism.115
115
See Mishnah, Sanhedrin, x. e, § 1, and Talmud, ibid. 90a and b, and
Rabbinowicz's Variae Lectiones, ix. p. 247 notes. Besides the ordinary
commentaries on the Talmud, account must also be taken of the remarks of
I have still to remark that there occur in the Talmud such

passages as “the Jew, even if he has sinned, is still a Jew,” or “He
who denies idolatry is called a Jew.” These and similar passages
have been used to prove that Judaism was not a positive religion,
but only involved the negation of idolatry. But it has been
overlooked that the statements quoted have more a legal than a
theological character. The Jew belonged to his nationality even
after having committed the greatest sin, just as the Englishman
does not cease to be an Englishman—in regard to treason and the
like—by having committed a heinous crime. But he has certainly
acted in a very un-English way, and having outraged the feelings
of the whole nation will have to suffer for his misconduct. The
Rabbis in a similar manner did not maintain that he who gave up
the belief in Revelation and Resurrection, and treated irreverently
the teachers of Israel, severed his connection with the Jewish [159]
nation, but that, for his crime, he was going to suffer the heaviest
punishment. He was to be excluded from the world to come.
Still, important as is the passage quoted from Sanhedrin, it
would be erroneous to think that it exhausted the creed of the
Rabbis. The liturgy and innumerable passages in the Midrashim
show that they ardently clung to the belief in the advent of the
Messiah. All their hope was turned to the future redemption
and the final establishment of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth.
Judaism, stripped of this belief, would have been for them de-
void of meaning. The belief in reward and punishment is also
repeated again and again in the old Rabbinic literature. A more
emphatic declaration of the belief in Providence than is conveyed
by the following passages is hardly conceivable. “Everything
is foreseen, and free will is given. And the world is judged by
Crescas, Duran, Albo, and Abarbanel on the subject. Cf. also Kämpf in
the Monatsschrift (1863), p. 144 seq.; Oppenheim, ibid. (1864), p. 144;
Friedmann in the Beth Talmud, i. p. 210 seq. See also Talmudical Dictionaries,
s.v. . The explanation I have adopted agrees partly with
Friedmann's and partly with Oppenheim's views.
grace.” Or, “the born are to die, and the dead to revive, and the
living to be judged. For to know and to notify, and that it may be
known that He (God) is the Framer and He the Creator, and He
the Discerner, and He the Judge, and He the Witness,” etc.116
But it must not be forgotten that it was not the habit of the
Rabbis to lay down, either for conduct or for doctrine, rules
which were commonly known. When they urged the three points
stated above there must have been some historical reason for it.
Probably these principles were controverted by some heretics.
Indeed, the whole tone of the passage cited from Sanhedrin is
a protest against certain unbelievers who are threatened with
punishment. Other beliefs, not less essential, but less disputed,
[160] remain unmentioned, because there was no necessity to assert
them.
It was not till a much later time, when the Jews came into clos-
er contact with new philosophical schools, and also new creeds
which were more liable than heathenism was to be confused with
Judaism, that this necessity was felt. And thus we are led at
once to the period when the Jews became acquainted with the
teachings of the Mohammedan schools. The Caraites came very
early into contact with non-Jewish systems. And so we find that
they were also the first to formulate Jewish dogmas in a fixed
number, and in a systematic order. It is also possible that their
separation from the Tradition, and their early division into little
sects among themselves, compelled them to take this step, in
order to avoid further sectarianism.
The number of their dogmas amounts to ten. According to
Judah Hadasi (1150), who would appear to have derived them
from his predecessors, their dogmas include the following ar-
ticles:—1. Creatio ex nihilo; 2. The existence of a Creator,
God; 3. This God is an absolute unity as well as incorporeal;
4. Moses and the other prophets were sent by God; 5. God
116
Sayings of the Fathers, iii. § 9, and iv. § 22.
has given to us the Torah, which is true and complete in every

respect, not wanting the addition of the so-called Oral Law; 6.
The Torah must be studied by every Jew in the original (Hebrew)
language; 7. The Holy Temple was a place elected by God for
His manifestation; 8. Resurrection of the dead; 9. Punishment
and reward after death; 10. The Coming of the Messiah, the son
of David.
How far the predecessors of Hadasi were influenced by a
certain Joseph Albashir (about 950), of whom there exists a
manuscript work, “Rudiments of Faith,” I am unable to say. The [161]
little we know of him reveals more of his intimacy with Arabic
thoughts than of his importance for his sect in particular and for
Judaism in general. After Hadasi I shall mention here Elijah
Bashazi, a Caraite writer of the end of the fifteenth century. This
author, who was much influenced by Maimonides, omits the
second and the seventh articles. In order to make up the ten he
numbers the belief in the eternity of God as an article, and divides
the fourth article into two. In the fifth article Bashazi does not
emphasise so strongly the completeness of the Torah as Hadasi,
and omits the portion which is directed against Tradition. It is
interesting to see the distinction which Bashazi draws between
the Pentateuch and the Prophets. While he thinks that the five
books of Moses can never be altered, he regards the words of
the Prophets as only relating to their contemporaries, and thus
subject to changes. As I do not want to anticipate Maimonides'
system, I must refrain from giving here the articles laid down by
Solomon Troki in the beginning of the eighteenth century. For
the articles of Maimonides are copied by this writer with a few
slight alterations so as to dress them in a Caraite garb.
I must dismiss the Caraites with these few remarks, my ob-
ject being chiefly to discuss the dogmas of the Synagogue from
which they had separated themselves. Besides, as in everything
Caraitic, there is no further development of the question. As
Bashazi laid them down, they are still taught by the Caraites of
to-day. I return to the Rabbanites.117

As is well known, Maimonides (1130-1205), was the first
Rabbanite who formulated the dogmas of the Synagogue. But
[162] there are indications of earlier attempts. R. Saadiah Gaon's
(892-942) work, Creeds and Opinions, shows such traces. He
says in his preface, “My heart sickens to see that the belief of my
co-religionists is impure and that their theological views are con-
fused.” The subjects he treats in this book, such as creation, unity
of God, resurrection of the dead, the future redemption of Israel,
reward and punishment, and other kindred theological subjects
might thus, perhaps, be considered as the essentials of the creed
that the Gaon desired to present in a pure and rational form.
R. Hannaneel, of Kairowan,118 in the first half of the eleventh
century, says in one of his commentaries that to deserve eternal
life one must believe in four things: in God, in the prophets, in a
future world where the just will be rewarded, and in the advent
of the Redeemer. From R. Judah Hallevi's Cusari, written in the
beginning of the twelfth century, we might argue that the belief
in the election of Israel by God was the cardinal dogma of the
author.119 Abraham Ibn Daud, a contemporary of Maimonides,
in his book The High Belief,120 speaks of rudiments, among
117
See (Jovslow, 1835), p. 48. In my exposition of the
dogmas of the Caraites I have mainly followed the late Dr. Frankl's article
“Karaiten” in Ersch u. Gruber's Encyclopädie (sec. ii. vol. xxxvi. pp. 12-18).
See also his Ein mutazilitischer Kalam and his Beiträge zur Literaturgeschichte
der Karäer (Berlin, 1887) on Bashazi. Cf. also Jost's Geschichte, ii. c. 13.
118
Kairowan was one of the greatest centres of Jewish learning in North Africa
during that period.
119
See, however, Professor D. Kaufmann's note in the Jewish Quarterly Re-
view, i. p. 441. From this it would seem that the creed of R. Judah Hallevi
may be formulated in the following articles:—The conviction of the existence
of God, of His eternity, of His guidance of our fathers, of the Divine Origin of
the Law, and of the proof of all this, the pledge or token of its truth, the exodus
from Egypt.
120
, Emunah Ramah, pp. 44 and 69; cf. Gulmann,
Monatsschrift, 1878, p. 304.
which, besides such metaphysical principles as unity, rational

conception of God's attributes, etc., the belief in the immutability
of the Law, etc., is included. Still, all these works are intended
to furnish evidence from philosophy or history for the truth of
religion rather than to give a definition of this truth. The latter
task was undertaken by Maimonides.
I refer to the thirteen articles embodied in his first work, The
Commentary to the Mishnah. They are appended to the Mishnah
in Sanhedrin, with which I dealt above. But though they do not
form an independent treatise, Maimonides' remarks must not be
considered as merely incidental. [163]
That Maimonides was quite conscious of the importance of
this exposition can be gathered from the concluding words ad-
dressed to the reader: “Know these (words) and repeat them
many times, and think them over in the proper way. God knows
that thou wouldst be deceiving thyself if thou thinkest thou hast
understood them by having read them once or even ten times.
Be not, therefore, hasty in perusing them. I have not composed
them without deep study and earnest reflection.”
The result of this deep study was that the following Thirteen
Articles constitute the creed of Judaism. They are:—
1. The belief in the existence of a Creator; 2. The belief in His
Unity; 3. The belief in His Incorporeality; 4. The belief in His
Eternity; 5. The belief that all worship and adoration are due to
Him alone; 6. The belief in Prophecy; 7. The belief that Moses
was the greatest of all Prophets, both before and after him; 8.
The belief that the Torah was revealed to Moses on Mount Sinai;
9. The belief in the Immutability of this revealed Torah; 10.
The belief that God knows the actions of men; 11. The belief
in Reward and Punishment; 12. The belief in the coming of the
Messiah; 13. The belief in the Resurrection of the dead.
The impulse given by the great philosopher and still greater
Jew was eagerly followed by succeeding generations, and Ju-
daism thus came into possession of a dogmatic literature such as
it never knew before Maimonides. Maimonides is the centre of

this literature, and I shall accordingly speak in the remainder of
this essay of Maimonists and Anti-Maimonists. These terms re-
ally apply to the great controversy that raged round Maimonides'
[164] Guide of the Perplexed, but I shall, chiefly for brevity's sake,
employ them in these pages in a restricted sense to refer to the
dispute concerning the Thirteen Articles.
Among the Maimonists we may probably include the great
majority of Jews, who accepted the Thirteen Articles without
further question. Maimonides must indeed have filled up a great
gap in Jewish theology, a gap, moreover, the existence of which
was very generally perceived. A century had hardly elapsed
before the Thirteen Articles had become a theme for the poets
of the Synagogue. And almost every country where Jews lived
can show a poem or a prayer founded on these Articles. R. Jacob
Molin (1420) of Germany speaks of metrical and rhymed songs
in the German language, the burden of which was the Thirteen
Articles, and which were read by the common people with great
devotion. The numerous commentaries and homilies written on
the same topic would form a small library in themselves.121 But
on the other hand it must not be denied that the Anti-Maimonists,
that is to say those Jewish writers who did not agree with the
creed formulated by Maimonides, or agreed only in part with
him, form also a very strong and respectable minority. They
deserve our attention the more as it is their works which brought
life into the subject and deepened it. It is not by a perpetual Amen
to every utterance of a great authority that truth or literature gains
anything.
The Anti-Maimonists can be divided into two classes. The
121
For the various translations of the Thirteen Articles which were origi-
nally composed in Arabic, see Steinschneider, Cat. Bodl. col. 1887. Cf.
Rosin, Ethik des Maimonides, p. 30; Weiss, Beth Talmud, i. p. 330, and
Ben Chananjah, 1863, p. 942, and 1864, pp. 648 and 697, and Landshut,
, p. 231.
one class categorically denies that Judaism has dogmas. I shall

have occasion to touch on this view when I come to speak of
Abarbanel. Here I pass at once to the second class of Anti-Mai-
monists. This consists of those who agree with Maimonides as to
the existence of dogmas in Judaism, but who differ from him as [165]
to what these dogmas are, or who give a different enumeration
of them.
As the first of these Anti-Maimonists we may regard Nach-
manides, who, in his famous Sermon in the Presence of the
King, speaks of three fundamental principles: Creation (that is,
non-eternity of matter), Omniscience of God, and Providence.
Next comes R. Abba Mari ben Moses, of Montpellier. He wrote
at the beginning of the fourteenth century, and is famous in
Jewish history for his zeal against the study of philosophy. We
possess a small pamphlet by him dealing with our subject, and it
forms a kind of prologue to his collection of controversial letters
against the rationalists of his time.122 He lays down three articles
as the fundamental teachings of Religion: 1. Metaphysical: The
existence of God, including His Unity and Incorporeality; 2. Mo-
saic: Creatio ex nihilo by God—a consequence of this principle
is the belief that God is capable of altering the laws of nature at
His pleasure; 3. Ethical: Special Providence—i.e. God knows
all our actions in all their details. Abba Mari does not mention
Maimonides' Thirteen Articles. But it would be false to conclude
that he rejected the belief in the coming of the Messiah, or any
other article of Maimonides. The whole tone and tendency of
this pamphlet is polemical, and it is therefore probable that he
only urged those points which were either doubted or explained
in an unorthodox way by the sceptics of his time.
Another scholar, of Provence, who wrote but twenty years later
than Abba Mari—R. David ben Samuel d'Estella (1320)—speaks
of the seven pillars of religion. They are: Revelation, Provi-
122
. See pp. 1-16.
[166] dence, Reward and Punishment, the Coming of the Messiah,

Resurrection of the Dead, Creatio ex nihilo, and Free Will.123
Of authors living in other countries, I have to mention here
R. Shemariah, of Crete, who flourished at about the same time
as R. David d'Estella, and is known from his efforts to reconcile
the Caraites with the Rabbanites. This author wrote a book for
the purpose of furnishing Jewish students with evidence for what
he considered the five fundamental teachings of Judaism, viz.:
1. The Existence of God; 2. The Incorporeality of God; 3. His
Absolute Unity; 4. That God created heaven and earth; 5. That
God created the world after His will 5106 years ago—5106 (1346
A.C.), being the year in which Shemariah wrote these words.124
In Portugal, at about the same time, we find R. David ben
Yom-Tob Bilia adding to the articles of Maimonides thirteen
of his own, which he calls the “Fundamentals of the Thinking
Man.” Five of these articles relate to the functions of the human
soul, that, according to him, emanated from God, and to the way
in which this divine soul receives its punishment and reward. The
other eight articles are as follows: 1. The belief in the existence
of spiritual beings—angels; 2. Creatio ex nihilo; 3. The belief in
the existence of another world, and that this other world is only a
spiritual one; 4. The Torah is above philosophy; 5. The Torah has
an outward (literal) meaning and an inward (allegorical) mean-
ing; 6. The text of the Torah is not subject to any emendation; 7.
The reward of a good action is the good work itself, and the doer
must not expect any other reward; 8. It is only by the “commands
relating to the heart,” for instance, the belief in one eternal God,
[167] the loving and fearing Him, and not through good actions, that
man attains the highest degree of perfection.125 Perhaps it would
be suitable to mention here another contemporaneous writer,
who also enumerates twenty-six articles. The name of this writer
123
See Hammaskir, viii. pp. 63 and 103.
124
See Steinschneider, Cat. München, No. 210.
125
See the Collection , by Ashkenazi, pp. 56b seq.
is unknown, and his articles are only gathered from quotations

by later authors. It would seem from these quotations that the
articles of this unknown author consisted mostly of statements
emphasising the belief in the attributes of God: as, His Eternity,
His Wisdom and Omnipotence, and the like.126
More important for our subject are the productions of the fif-
teenth century, especially those of Spanish authors. The fifteen
articles of R. Lipman Muhlhausen, in the preface to his well-
known Book of Victory127 (1410), differ but slightly from those
of Maimonides. In accordance with the anti-Christian tendency
of his polemical book, he lays more stress on the two articles
of Unity and Incorporeality, and makes of them four. We can
therefore dismiss him with this short remark, and pass at once to
the Spanish Rabbis.
The first of these is R. Chasdai Ibn Crescas, who composed
his famous treatise, The Light of God, about 1405. Chasdai's
book is well known for its attacks on Aristotle, and also for its
influence on Spinoza. But Chasdai deals also with Maimonides'
Thirteen Articles, to which he was very strongly opposed. Al-
ready in his preface he attacks Maimonides for speaking, in his
Book of the Commandments, of the belief in the existence of God
as an “affirmative precept.” Chasdai thinks it absurd; for every
commandment must be dictated by some authority, but on whose
authority can we dictate the acceptance of this authority? His
general objection to the Thirteen Articles is that Maimonides [168]
confounded dogmas or fundamental beliefs of Judaism, without
which Judaism is inconceivable, with beliefs or doctrines which
Judaism inculcates, but the denial of which, though involving a
strong heresy, does not make Judaism impossible. He maintains
that if Maimonides meant only to count fundamental teachings,
there are not more than seven; but that if he intended also to in-
126
See Albo, c. iii. Probably identical with the author mentioned by Duran,
13b.
127
, “Sepher Nizzachon.”
clude doctrines, he ought to have enumerated sixteen. As beliefs

of the first class—namely, fundamental beliefs—he considers
the following articles: 1. God's knowledge of our actions; 2.
Providence; 3. God's omnipotence—even to act against the laws
of nature; 4. Prophecy; 5. Free will; 6. The aim of the Torah is
to make man long after the closest communion with God. The
belief in the existence of God, Chasdai thinks, is an axiom with
which every religion must begin, and he is therefore uncertain
whether to include it as a dogma or not. As to the doctrines
which every Jew is bound to believe, but without which Judaism
is not impossible, Chasdai divides them into two sections: (a)
1. Creatio ex nihilo; 2. Immortality of the soul; 3. Reward
and Punishment; 4. Resurrection of the dead; 5. Immutability
of the Torah; 6. Superiority of the prophecy of Moses; 7. That
the High Priest received from God the instructions sought for,
when he put his questions through the medium of the Urim and
Thummim; 8. The coming of the Messiah. (b) Doctrines which
are expressed by certain religious ceremonies, and on belief in
which these ceremonies are conditioned: 1. The belief in the
efficacy of prayer—as well as in the power of the benediction
of the priests to convey to us the blessing of God; 2. God
is merciful to the penitent; 3. Certain days in the year—for
[169] instance, the Day of Atonement—are especially qualified to
bring us near to God, if we keep them in the way we are com-
manded. That Chasdai is a little arbitrary in the choice of his
“doctrines,” I need hardly say. Indeed, Chasdai's importance for
the dogma-question consists more in his critical suggestions than
in his positive results. He was, as we have seen, the first to
make the distinction between fundamental teachings which form
the basis of Judaism, and those other simple Jewish doctrines
without which Judaism is not impossible. Very daring is his
remark, when proving that Reward and Punishment, Immortality
of the soul, and Resurrection of the dead must not be considered
as the basis of Judaism, since the highest ideal of religion is to
serve God without any hope of reward. Even more daring are
his words concerning the Immutability of the Law. He says:
“Some have argued that, since God is perfection, so must also
His law be perfect, and thus unsusceptible of improvement.” But
he does not think this argument conclusive, though the fact in
itself (the Immutability of the Law) is true. For one might answer
that this perfection of the Torah could only be in accordance
with the intelligence of those for whom it was meant; but as
soon as the recipients of the Torah have advanced to a higher
state of perfection, the Torah must also be altered to suit their
advanced intelligence. A pupil of Chasdai illustrates the words
of his master by a medical parallel. The physician has to adapt
his medicaments to the various stages through which his patient
has to pass. That he changes his prescription does not, however,
imply that his medical knowledge is imperfect, or that his earlier
remedies were ignorantly chosen; the varying condition of the
invalid was the cause of the variation in the doctor's treatment. [170]
Similarly, were not the Immutability of the Torah a “doctrine,”
one might maintain that the perfection of the Torah would not
be inconsistent with the assumption that it was susceptible of
modification, in accordance with our changing and progressive
circumstances. But all these arguments are purely of a theoretic
character; for, practically, every Jew, according to Chasdai, has
to accept all these beliefs, whether he terms them fundamental
teachings or only Jewish doctrines.128
Some years later, though he finished his work in the same year
as Chasdai, R. Simeon Duran (1366-1444,) a younger contempo-
rary of the former, made his researches on dogmas. His studies on
this subject form a kind of introduction to his commentary on Job,
which he finished in the year 1405. Duran is not so strongly op-
posed to the Thirteen Articles as Chasdai, or as another “thinker
128
See (ed. Johannisburg), preface, and pp. 20a, 44b, 59b, and
elsewhere. The style of this author is very obscure. Cf. Joel's pamphlet on this
author (Breslau, 1874).
of our people,” who thought them an arbitrary imitation of the

thirteen attributes of God. Duran tries to justify Maimonides;
but nevertheless he agrees with “earlier authorities,” who for-
mulated the Jewish creed in Three Articles—The Existence of
God, Revelation, and Reward and Punishment—under which
Duran thinks the Thirteen Articles of Maimonides may be easily
classed. Most interesting are his remarks concerning the validity
of dogmas. He tells us that only those are to be considered as
heretics who abide by their own opinions, though they know that
they are contradictory to the views of the Torah. Those who
accept the fundamental teachings of Judaism, but are led by their
deep studies and earnest reflection to differ in details from the
opinions current among their co-religionists, and explain certain
[171] passages in the Scripture in their own way, must by no means
be considered as heretics. We must, therefore, Duran proceeds to
say, not blame such men as Maimonides, who gave an allegorical
interpretation to certain passages in the Bible about miracles, or
R. Levi ben Gershom, who followed certain un-Jewish views in
relation to the belief in Creatio ex nihilo. Only the views are
condemnable, not those who cherish them. God forbid, says
Duran, that such a thing should happen in Israel as to condemn
honest inquirers on account of their differing opinions. It would
be interesting to know of how many divines as tolerant as this
persecuted Jew the fifteenth century can boast.129
We can now pass to a more popular but less original writer on
our theme. I refer to R. Joseph Albo, the author of the Roots,130
who was the pupil of Chasdai, a younger contemporary of Duran,
and wrote at a much later period than these authors. Graetz has
justly denied him much originality. The chief merit of Albo con-
sists in popularising other people's thoughts, though he does not
always take care to mention their names. And the student who is
129
See the first pages of the (Leghorn, 1758), and his , pp. 13
seq.
130
, Ikkarim, “Fundamentals.”
a little familiar with the contents of the Roots will easily find that
Albo has taken his best ideas either from Chasdai or from Duran.
As it is of little consequence to us whether an article of faith is
called “stem,” or “root,” or “branch,” there is scarcely anything
fresh left to quote in the name of Albo. The late Dr. Löw, of
Szegedin, was indeed right, when he answered an adversary who
challenged him—“Who would dare to declare me a heretic as
long as I confess the Three Articles laid down by Albo?” with
the words “Albo himself.” For, after all the subtle distinctions
Albo makes between different classes of dogmas, he declares [172]
that every one who denies even the immutability of the Law or
the coming of the Messiah, which are, according to him, articles
of minor importance, is a heretic who will be excluded from the
world to come. But there is one point in his book which is worth
noticing. It was suggested to him by Maimonides, indeed; still
Albo has the merit of having emphasised it as it deserves. Among
the articles which he calls “branches” Albo counts the belief that
the perfection of man, which leads to eternal life, can be obtained
by the fulfilling of one commandment. But this command must,
as Maimonides points out, be done without any worldly regard,
and only for the love of God. When one considers how many
platitudes are repeated year by year by certain theologians on the
subject of Jewish legalism, we cannot lay enough stress on this
article of Albo, and we ought to make it better known than it has
hitherto been.131
Though I cannot enter here into the enumeration of the Mai-

monists, I must not leave unmentioned the name of R. Nissim ben
Moses of Marseilles, the first great Maimonist, who flourished
about the end of the thirteenth century, and was considered as
131
See Ikkarim, i. c. 23, and Maimonides' Commentary on the Mishnah (end
of tractate Maccoth). On Albo compare Schlesinger's Introduction and notes
to the Ikkarim, Joel's pamphlet, p. 82; Paulus, Monatsschrift, 1874, p. 463, and
Brüll's Jahrb. iv. p. 52.
one of the most enlightened thinkers of his age.132 Another

great Maimonist deserving special attention is R. Abraham ben
Shem-Tob Bibago, who may perhaps be regarded as the most
prominent among those who undertook to defend Maimonides
against the attacks of Chasdai and others. Bibago wrote The
Path of Belief133 in the second half of the fifteenth century, and
was, as Dr. Steinschneider aptly describes him, a Denkgläubiger.
But, above all, he was a believing Jew. When he was once
[173] asked, at the table of King John II., of Aragon, by a Christian
scholar, “Are you the Jewish philosopher?” he answered, “I am
a Jew who believes in the Law given to us by our teacher Moses,
though I have studied philosophy.” Bibago was such a devoted
admirer of Maimonides that he could not tolerate any opposition
to him. He speaks in one passage of the prudent people of his
time who, in desiring to be looked upon as orthodox by the great
mob, calumniated the Teacher (Maimonides), and depreciated
his merits. Bibago's book is very interesting, especially in its
controversial parts; but in respect to dogmas he is, as already
said, a Maimonist, and does not contribute any new point on our
subject.
To return to the Anti-Maimonists of the second half of the
fifteenth century. As such may be considered R. Isaac Aramah,
who speaks of three foundations of religion: Creatio ex nihilo,
Revelation (?), and the belief in a world to come.134 Next to be
mentioned is R. Joseph Jabez, who also accepts only three arti-
cles: Creatio ex nihilo, Individual Providence, and the Unity of
God.135 Under these three heads he tries to classify the Thirteen
Articles of Maimonides.
The last Spanish writer on our subject is R. Isaac Abarbanel.
132
I know his work from a MS. in the British Museum, Orient. 39.
133
, Derech Emunah. Cf. Steinschneider, Monatsschrift,
1883, p. 79 seq.
134
See , gate 55.
135
See his and .
His treatise on the subject is known under the title Top of

Amanah,136 and was finished in the year 1495. The greatest part
of this treatise forms a defence of Maimonides, many points in
which are taken from Bibago. But, in spite of this fact, Abarbanel
must not be considered a Maimonist. It is only a feeling of piety
towards Maimonides, or perhaps rather a fondness for argument,
that made him defend Maimonides against Chasdai and others.
His own view is that it is a mistake to formulate dogmas of [174]
Judaism, since every word in the Torah has to be considered as
a dogma for itself. It was only, says Abarbanel, by following
the example of non-Jewish scholars that Maimonides and others
were induced to lay down dogmas. The non-Jewish philosophers
are in the habit of accepting in every science certain indisputable
axioms from which they deduce the propositions which are less
evident. The Jewish philosophers in a similar way sought for
first principles in religion from which the whole of the Torah
ought to be considered as a deduction. But, thinks Abarbanel,
the Torah as a revealed code is under no necessity of deducing
things from each other, for all the commands came from the
same divine authority, and, therefore, all are alike evident, and
have the same certainty. On this and similar grounds Abarbanel
refused to accept dogmatic articles for Judaism, and he thus
became the head of the school that forms a class by itself among
the Anti-Maimonists to which many of the greatest Cabbalists
also belong. But it is idle talk to cite this school in aid of the
modern theory that Judaism has no dogmas. As we have seen,
it was rather an embarras de richesse that prevented Abarbanel
from accepting the Thirteen Articles of Maimonides. To him and
to the Cabbalists the Torah consists of at least 613 Articles.
Abarbanel wrote his book with which we have just dealt, at
Naples. And it is Italy to which, after the expulsion of the Jews
from Spain, we have to look chiefly for religious speculation. But
136
.
the philosophers of Italy are still less independent of Maimonides

than their predecessors in Spain. Thus we find that R. David
[175] Messer Leon, R. David Vital, and others were Maimonists. Even
the otherwise refined and original thinker, R. Elijah Delmedigo
(who died about the end of the fifteenth century) becomes al-
most impolite when he speaks of the adversaries of Maimonides
in respect to dogmas. “It was only,” he says, “the would-be
philosopher that dared to question the articles of Maimonides.
Our people have always the bad habit of thinking themselves
competent to attack the greatest authorities as soon as they have
got some knowledge of the subject. Genuine thinkers, however,
attach very little importance to their objections.”137
Indeed, it seems as if the energetic protests of Delmedigo
scared away the Anti-Maimonists for more than a century. Even
in the following seventeenth century we have to notice only two
Anti-Maimonists. The one is R. Tobijah, the Priest (1652), who
was of Polish descent, studied in Italy, and lived as a medical
man in France. He seems to refuse to accept the belief in the
Immutability of the Torah, and in the coming of the Messiah, as
fundamental teachings of Judaism.138 The other, at the end of the
seventeenth century (1695), is R. Abraham Chayim Viterbo, of
Italy. He accepts only six articles: 1. Existence of God; 2. Unity;
3. Incorporeality; 4. That God was revealed to Moses on Mount
Sinai, and that the prophecy of Moses is true; 5. Revelation
(including the historical parts of the Torah); 6. Reward and
Punishment. As to the other articles of Maimonides, Viterbo, in
opposition to other half-hearted Anti-Maimonists, declares that
the man who denies them is not to be considered as a heretic;
though he ought to believe them.139
I have now arrived at the limit I set to myself at the beginning
137
See , ed. Reggio, p. 28.
138
See (Venice, 1707), 16a and 23a. His language is very
vague.
139
See the Collection by Ashkenazi (as above, note 18), p. 29b.
of this essay. For, between the times of Viterbo and those of [176]
Mendelssohn, there is hardly to be found any serious opposition
to Maimonides worth noticing here. Still I must mention the
name of R. Saul Berlin (died 1794); there is much in his opin-
ions on dogmas which will help us the better to understand the
Thirteen Articles of Maimonides. As the reader has seen, I have
refrained so far from reproducing here the apologies which were
made by many Maimonists in behalf of the Thirteen Articles.
For, after all their elaborate pleas, none of them was able to
clear Maimonides of the charge of having confounded dogmas
or fundamental teachings with doctrines. It is also true that the
Fifth Article—that prayer and worship must only be offered to
God—cannot be considered even as a doctrine, but as a simple
precept. And there are other difficulties which all the distinc-
tions of the Maimonists will never be able to solve. The only
possible justification is, I think, that suggested by a remark of R.
Saul. This author, who was himself—like his friend and older
contemporary Mendelssohn—a strong Anti-Maimonist, among
other remarks, maintains that dogmas must never be laid down
but with regard to the necessities of the time.140
Now R. Saul certainly did not doubt that Judaism is based on
eternal truths which can in no way be shaken by new modes of
thinking or changed circumstances. What he meant was that there
are in every age certain beliefs which ought to be asserted more
emphatically than others, without regard to their theological or
rather logical importance. It is by this maxim that we shall be
able to explain the articles of Maimonides. He asserted them,
because they were necessary for his time. [177]
We know, for instance, from a letter of his son and from

other contemporaries, that it was just at his time that the belief
in the incorporeality of God was, in the opinion of Maimonides,
a little relaxed. Maimonides, who thought such low notions of
140
See his , p. 331.
the Deity dangerous to Judaism, therefore laid down an article

against them. He tells us in his Guide that it was far from
him to condemn any one who was not able to demonstrate the
Incorporeality of God, but he stigmatised as a heretic one who
refused to believe it. This position might be paralleled by that
of a modern astronomer who, while considering it unreasonable
to expect a mathematical demonstration of the movements of the
earth from an ordinary unscientific man, would yet regard the
person who refused to believe in such movements as an ignorant
faddist.
Again, Maimonides undoubtedly knew that there may be
found in the Talmud—that bottomless sea with its innumerable
undercurrents—passages that are not quite in harmony with his
articles; for instance, the well-known dictum of R. Hillel, who
said, there is no Messiah for Israel—a passage which has already
been quoted ad nauseam by every opponent of Maimonides from
the earliest times down to the year of grace 1896. Maimonides
was well aware of the existence of this and similar passages.
But, being deeply convinced of the necessity of the belief in a
future redemption of Israel—in opposition to other creeds which
claim this redemption exclusively for their own adherents—Mai-
monides simply ignored the saying of R. Hillel, as an isolated
opinion which contradicts all the consciousness and traditions
[178] of the Jew as expressed in thousands of other passages, and
especially in the liturgy. Most interesting is Maimonides' view
about such isolated opinions in a letter to the wise men of Mar-
seilles. He deals there with the question of free will and other
theological subjects. After having stated his own view he goes
on to say: “I know that it is possible to find in the Talmud or
in the Midrash this or that saying in contradiction to the views
you have heard from me. But you must not be troubled by
them. One must not refuse to accept a doctrine, the truth of
which has been proved, on account of its being in opposition to
some isolated opinion held by this or that great authority. Is it
not possible that he overlooked some important considerations

when he uttered this strange opinion? It is also possible that his
words must not be taken literally, and have to be explained in an
allegorical way. We can also think that his words were only to
be applied with regard to certain circumstances of his time, but
never intended as permanent truths.... No man must surrender
his private judgment. The eyes are not directed backwards but
forwards.” In another place Maimonides calls the suppression of
one's own opinions—for the reason of their being irreconcilable
with the isolated views of some great authority—a moral suicide.
By such motives Maimonides was guided when he left certain
views hazarded in the Rabbinic literature unheeded, and followed
what we may perhaps call the religious instinct, trusting to his
own conscience. We may again be certain that Maimonides was
clear-headed enough to see that the words of the Torah: “And
there arose no prophet since in Israel like unto Moses” (Deut.
xxxiv. 10), were as little intended to imply a doctrine as the
passage relating to the king Josiah, “And like unto him was there [179]
no king before him that turned to the Lord with all his heart ...
neither after him arose there any like him” (2 Kings xxiii. 25).
And none would think of declaring the man a heretic who should
believe another king to be as pious as Josiah. But living among
followers of the “imitating creeds” (as he calls Christianity and
Mohammedism), who claimed that their religion had superseded
the law of Moses, Maimonides, consciously or unconsciously,
felt himself compelled to assert the superiority of the prophecy
of Moses. And so we may guess that every article of Maimonides
which seems to offer difficulties to us contains an assertion of
some relaxed belief, or a protest against the pretensions of other
creeds, though we are not always able to discover the exact
necessity for them. On the other hand, Maimonides did not
assert the belief in free will, for which he argued so earnestly in
his Guide. The common “man,” with his simple unspeculative
mind, for whom these Thirteen Articles were intended, “never
dreamed that the will was not free,” and there was no necessity
of impressing on his mind things which he had never doubted.141
So much about Maimonides. As to the Anti-Maimonists, it
could hardly escape the reader that in some of the quoted systems
the difference from the view of Maimonides is only a logical
one, not a theological. Of some authors again, especially those
of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it is not at all certain
whether they intended to oppose Maimonides. Others again, as
for instance R. Abba Mari, R. Lipman, and R. Joseph Jabez,
acted on the same principle as Maimonides, urging only those
teachings of Judaism which they thought endangered. One could
[180] now, indeed, animated by the praiseworthy example given to
us by Maimonides, also propose some articles of faith which
are suggested to us by the necessities of our own time. One
might, for instance, insert the article, “I believe that Judaism is,
in the first instance, a divine religion, not a mere complex of
racial peculiarities and tribal customs.” One might again propose
an article to the effect that Judaism is a proselytising religion,
having the mission to bring about God's kingdom on earth, and to
include in that kingdom all mankind. One might also submit for
consideration whether it would not be advisable to urge a little
more the principle that religion means chiefly a Weltanschauung
and worship of God by means of holiness both in thought and
in action. One would even not object to accept the article laid
down by R. Saul, that we have to look upon ourselves as sinners.
Morbid as such a belief may be, it would, if properly impressed
on our mind, have perhaps the wholesome effect of cooling down
a little our self-importance and our mutual admiration that makes
all progress among us almost impossible.
But it was not my purpose to ventilate here the question
whether Maimonides' articles are sufficient for us, or whether
we ought not to add new ones to them. Nor do I attempt to
141
See Weiss's admirable monograph on Maimonides, published in the Beth
Talmud, i.
decide what system we ought to prefer for recitation in the

Synagogue—that of Maimonides or that of Chasdai, or of any
other writer. I do not think that such a recital is of much use.
My object in this sketch has been rather to make the reader
think about Judaism, by proving that it regulates not only our
actions, but also our thoughts. We usually urge that in Judaism
religion means life; but we forget that a life without guiding
principles and thoughts is a life not worth living. At least it was [181]
so considered by the greatest Jewish thinkers, and hence their
efforts to formulate the creed of Judaism, so that men should
not only be able to do the right thing, but also to think the
right thing. Whether they succeeded in their attempts towards
formulating the creed of Judaism or not will always remain a
question. This concerns the logician more than the theologian.
But surely Maimonides and his successors did succeed in having
a religion depending directly on God, with the most ideal and
lofty aspirations for the future; whilst the Judaism of a great part
of our modern theologians reminds one very much of the words
with which the author of Marius the Epicurean characterises the
Roman religion in the days of her decline: a religion which had
been always something to be done rather than something to be
thought, or believed, or loved.
Political economy, hygiene, statistics, are very fine things.

But no sane man would for them make those sacrifices which
Judaism requires from us. It is only for God's sake, to fulfil His
commands and to accomplish His purpose, that religion becomes
worth living and dying for. And this can only be possible with a
religion which possesses dogmas.
It is true that every great religion is “a concentration of many

ideas and ideals,” which make this religion able to adapt itself to
various modes of thinking and living. But there must always be
a point round which all these ideas concentrate themselves. This
centre is Dogma.
[182]
VII. The History of Jewish Tradition
There is an anecdote about a famous theologian to the ef-
fect that he used to tell his pupils, “Should I ever grow old
and weak—which usually drives people to embrace the safer
side—and alter my opinions, then pray do not believe me.” The
concluding volume of Weiss's History of Jewish Tradition142
shows that there was no need for our author to warn his pupils
against the dangers accompanying old age. For though Weiss
had, when he began to write this last volume, already exceeded
his three-score and ten, and, as we read in the preface, had some
misgivings as to whether he should continue his work, there is no
trace in it of any abatement of the great powers of the author. It
is marked by the same freshness in diction, the same marvellous
scholarship, the same display of astonishing critical powers, and
the same impartial and straightforward way of judging persons
and things, for which the preceding volumes were so much
distinguished and admired.
This book, which is recognised as a standard work abroad,
is, I fear, owing to the fact of its being written in the Hebrew
language, not sufficiently known in this country. Weiss does not
want our recognition; we are rather in need of his instruction.
Some general view of his estimate of Jewish Tradition may, [183]
therefore, be of service to the student. It is, indeed, the only
work of its kind. Zunz has confined himself to the history of the
Agadah. Graetz gave most of his attention to the political side
of Jewish history. But comparatively little has been done for
the Halachah, though Frankel, Geiger, Herzfeld, and others have
treated some single points in various monographs. Thus it was
142
The Hebrew title of the work is .
left for Weiss to write the History of Tradition, which includes

both the Agadah and the Halachah. The treatment of this latter
must have proved, in consequence of the intricate and intractable
nature of its materials, by far the more difficult portion of his
task.
In speaking of the History of Tradition, a term which sug-
gests the fluctuating character of a thing, its origin, development,
progress, and retrogression, we have already indicated that Weiss
does not consider even the Halachah as having come down from
heaven, ready-made, and definitely fixed for all time. To define
it more clearly, Tradition is, apart from the few ordinances and
certain usages for which there is no precedent in the Bible, the
history of interpretation of the Scriptures, which was constantly
liable to variation, not on grounds of philology, but through the
subjective notions of successive generations regarding religion
and the method and scope of its application.
Weiss's standpoint with reference to the Pentateuch is the
conservative one, maintaining both its unity and its Mosaic au-
thorship. Those passages and accounts in the Bible in which the
modern critic discerns traces of different traditional sources, are
for Weiss only indicative of the various stages of interpretation
[184] through which the Pentateuch had to pass. The earliest stage
was a very crude one, as may be seen from the case of Jephthah's
vow, for which only a misinterpretation of certain passages in
the Pentateuch (Gen. xxii. 2; Num. xxv. 4) could be made
responsible. Nor was Jephthah, who felt himself bound to carry
out his vow, acquainted with the provision for dissolving vows143
that was sufficiently familiar to later ages. When, on the other
hand, Jeremiah declared sacrifices to be altogether superfluous,
and said that God did not command Israel, when he brought
them from the land of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings or
sacrifices (vii. 22), he was not in contradiction with Leviticus,
143
That is, vows of an ascetic nature (not vows or oaths enforced by a court of
justice), which the tribunal could annul when there was sufficient reason for it.
VII. The History of Jewish Tradition 183
but interpreted the laws contained in this book as a concession

to popular custom, though not desirable on their own account.
This concession, whenever it was of a harmless nature, the
prophets carried so far as to permit altars outside the Tabernacle
or Temple, though this was against the plain sense of Deuteron-
omy. Elijah even bewailed their destruction (1 Kings xix. 10).
He and other prophets probably interpreted the law in question
as directed against the construction and maintenance of several
chief sanctuaries, but not against sacrificing in different places on
minor occasions. This is evidently a free interpretation, or rather
application, of the Law. Occasionally the conception as to when
and how a law should be applied took a completely negative
form. In this manner is to be explained the action of Solomon in
suspending the Fast of the Day of Atonement before the festival
he was going to celebrate in honour of the consecration of the
Temple (1 Kings viii. 65), the king being convinced that on this
unique occasion the latter was of more religious importance than
the former. Weiss thinks that the later custom of holding public [185]
dances in the vineyards on the 10th of Tishri might have had its
origin in this solemn, but also joyful, festival. Ezekiel, again,
though alluding more frequently than any other prophet to the
laws in the Pentateuch, is exceedingly bold in his interpretation
of them, as, for instance, when he says that priests shall not eat
anything that is dead or torn (xliv. 31), which shows that he took
the verses in Exod. xxii. 30, and Deut. xiv. 20, to have been
meant only as a good advice to the laymen to refrain from eating
these unclean things, but not as having for them the force of a
real commandment.
Starting from this proposition, that there existed always some
sort of interpretation running side by side with the recognised
Scriptures, which from the very looseness of its connection with
the letter of the Scripture could claim to be considered a thing
independent in itself, and might therefore be regarded as the Oral
Law, in contradistinction to the Written Law, the author passes
to the age of the Second Temple, the period to which the rest of
the first volume is devoted. In these pages Weiss reviews the
activity of Ezra and Nehemiah, the ordinances of the Men of the
Great Synagogue, the institutions of the Scribes, the Lives of
the so-called Pairs,144 the characteristics of the three sects, the
Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes, and the differences between
the schools of Shammai and Hillel. To each of these subjects
Weiss gives his fullest attention, and his discussions of them
would form perfect monographs in themselves. To reproduce all
the interesting matter would mean to translate the whole of this
portion of his work into English. I shall only draw attention to
[186] one or two points.
First, this liberal interpretation was active during the whole
period referred to. Otherwise no authority could have abolished
the lex talionis, or have permitted war on Sabbath, or made the
condition that no crime should be punished without a preceding
warning (which was chiefly owing to the aversion of the Rab-
bis to the infliction of capital punishment), or have sanctioned
the sacrificing of the Passover when the 14th of Nisan fell on
Sabbath. Indeed Shemaiah and Abtalyon, in whose name Hillel
communicated this last law, were called the Great Interpreters.145
Secondly, as to the so-called laws given to Moses on Sinai.146
Much has been said about these. The distinction claimed for
them by some scholars, viz. that they were never contested, is
not tenable, considering that there prevailed much difference of
opinion about some of them. Nor is the theory that they were
144
The ten Rabbis who are named as the bearers of tradition during the period
between 170 and 30 B.C.{FNS The “pair” in each case is supposed to have
consisted of the president and the vice-president of the Sanhedrin for the time
being. See, however, Kuenen, Gesammelte Schriften, p. 49 seq.
145
.
146
. They amount, in the whole of Rabbinic
literature, to about forty, of which more than ten concern the preparation of
the phylacteries, whilst others relate to the libations of water at the Feast of
Tabernacles and similar subjects.
ancient religious usages, dating from time immemorial, entirely

satisfactory. For though the fact may be true in itself, this could
not have justified the Rabbis in calling them all Sinaitic laws,
especially when they were aware that not a few of them were
contested by certain of their colleagues, a thing that would have
been quite impossible if they had a genuine claim to Mosaic
authority. But if we understand Weiss rightly these laws are
only to be considered as a specimen of the whole of the Oral
Law, which was believed to emanate, both in its institutional and
in its expository part, from the same authority. The conviction
was firmly held that everything wise and good, be it ethical or
ceremonial in its character, whose effect would be to strengthen
the cause of religion, was at least potentially contained in the
Torah, and that it only required an earnest religious mind to find [187]
it there. Hence the famous adage that “everything which any
student will teach at any future time was already communicated
to Moses on Mount Sinai”; or the injunction that any acceptable
truth, even if discovered by an insignificant man in Israel, should
be considered as having the authority of a great sage or prophet,
or even of Moses himself. The principle was that the words of
the Torah are “fruitful and multiply.”
It will probably be said that the laws of clean and unclean, and
such like, have proved rather too prolific; but if we read Weiss
carefully, we shall be reminded that it was by the same process
of propagation that the Rabbis developed from Deut. xxii. 8, a
whole code of sanitary and police-laws which could even now
be studied with profit; from the few scanty civil laws in Exod.
xxi., a whole corpus juris, which might well excite the interest
and the admiration of any lawyer; and from the words “And
thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children,” a complete
school-system on the one hand, and on the other the résumé of
a liturgy that appears to have sufficed for the spiritual needs of
more than fifty generations of Israelites.
Before we pass to the age of the Tannaim,147 the subject of

Weiss's second volume, we must take account of two important
events which have greatly influenced the further development of
Tradition. I refer to the destruction of the Temple and the rise
of Christianity. With the former event Judaism ceased to be a
political commonwealth, and if “the nation was already in the
times of Ezra converted into a church,”—an assertion, by the
way, which has not the least basis in fact,—it became the more
so after it had lost the last remains of its independence. But it was
[188] a church without priests, or, since such a thing, as far as history
teaches us, has never existed, let us rather call it a Synagogue.
From this fact diverse results flowed. A Synagogue can exist
not only without priests, but also without sacrifices, for which
prayer and charity were a sufficient substitute. With the progress
of time also many agricultural laws, as well as others relating
to sacerdotal purity, gradually became obsolete, though they lin-
gered on for some generations, and, as a venerable reminiscence
of a glorious time, entered largely into Jewish literature. This
disappearance of so many laws and the weakening of the national
element, however, required, if Judaism was to continue to exist,
the strengthening of religion from another side. The first thing
needed was the creation of a new religious centre which would
not only replace the Temple to a certain degree, but also bring
about a greater solidarity of views, such as would render impos-
sible the ancient differences that divided the schools of Hillel and
Shammai. The creator of this centre was R. Johanan ben Zaccai,
who founded the school of Jamnia, and invested it with the same
authority and importance as the Sanhedrin had enjoyed during
Temple times. The consciousness that they were standing before
a new starting-point in history, with a large religious inheritance
from the past, actuated them not only to collect the old traditional
laws and to take stock of their religious institutions, but also to
147
This is the time when the school of R. Johanan b. Zaccai began its activity.
Others place the Tannaitic age in Hillel's time (30 B.C.{FNS).
give them more definite shape and greater stability. As many of

these traditions were by no means undisputed, the best thing was
to bring them under one or other heading of the Scriptures. This
desire gave the impulse to the famous hermeneutic schools of R.
Akiba and R. Ishmael.
The next cause that contributed to give a more determinate
expression to the Law was the rise of Christianity. This is [189]
not the place to give an account of the views which the Rabbis
entertained of Christianity. Suffice it to say they could not see
in the destruction of the Law its fulfilment. They also thought
that under certain conditions it is not only the letter that killeth,
but also the spirit, or rather that the spirit may sometimes be
clothed in a letter, which, in its turn, will slay more victims
than the letter against which the loudest denunciations have been
levelled. Spirit without letter, let theologians say what they will,
is a mere phantasm. However, the new sect made claims to the
gift of prophecy, which, as they thought, placed them above the
Law. It would seem that this was a time of special excitement.
The student of the Talmud finds that such marvels as predicting
the future, reviving the dead, casting out demons, crossing rivers
dry-shod, curing the sick by a touch or prayer, were the order of
the day, and performed by scores of Rabbis. Voices from heaven
were often heard, and strange visions were frequently beheld.
Napoleon I. is said to have forbidden the holy coat of Treves to
work miracles. The Jewish legislature, however, had no means
of preventing these supernatural workings; but when the Rabbis
saw their dangerous consequences, they insisted that miracles
should have no influence on the interpretation and development
of the Law. Hence the saying with regard to Lev. xxvii. 34, that
no prophet is authorised to add a new law. And when R. Eliezer
b. Hyrkanos (about 120 A.C.) thought to prove the justice of his
case by the intervention of miracles, the majority answered that
the fact of this or that variation, effected at his bidding, in the
established order of nature, proved nothing for the soundness
[190] of his argument. Nay, they even ignored the Bath-Kol148 (the
celestial voice), which declared itself in favour of R. Eliezer,
maintaining that the Torah having once been given to mankind,
it is only the opinion of the majority that should decide on its
interpretation and application. Very characteristic is the legend
connected with this fact. When one of the Rabbis afterwards met
Elijah and asked him what they thought in heaven of the audacity
of his colleagues, the prophet answered, “God rejoiced and said,
my children have conquered me.”
Into such discredit did miracles fall at that period, whilst
the opinion of the interpreting body, or the Sanhedrin, became
more powerful than ever. These were merely dogmatical conse-
quences. But new laws were enacted and old ones revived, with
the object of resisting Christian influences over the Jews. To
expand the Oral Law, and give it a firm basis in the Scriptures,
were considered the best means of preserving Judaism intact.
“Moses desired,” an old legend narrates, “that the Mishnah also
(that is Tradition) should be written down;” but foreseeing the
time when the nations of the world would translate the Torah into
Greek, and would assert their title to rank as the Children of God,
the Lord refused to permit tradition to be recorded otherwise
than by word of mouth. The claim of the Gentiles might then be
refuted by asking them whether they were also in possession of
“the Mystery.” The Rabbis therefore concentrated their attention
upon “the Mystery,” and this contributed largely towards making
the expository methods of R. Akiba and R. Ishmael, to which I
have above referred, the main object of their study in the schools.
It would, however, be a mistake to think that the Sanhedrin
[191] now spent their powers in “enforcing retrograde measures and
creating a strange exegesis.” I especially advise the student to
read carefully that admirable chapter (VII., of Vol. II.) in which
Weiss classifies all the Ordinances, “Fences,” Decrees, and In-
148
.
stitutions, dating both from this and from earlier ages, under ten
headings, and also shows their underlying principles. The main
object was to preserve the Jewish religion by strengthening the
principle of Jewish nationality, and to preserve the nationality
by the aid of religion. But sometimes the Rabbis also considered
it necessary to preserve religion against itself, so to speak, or,
as they expressed it, “When there is time to work for the Lord,
they make void thy Torah.” This authorised the Beth Din149 to
act in certain cases against the letter of the Torah. “The welfare
of the World” was another great consideration. By “World” they
understood both the religious and the secular world. From a
regard to the former resulted such “Fences” and Ordinances as
were directed against “the transgressors,” as well as the general
injunction to “keep aloof from what is morally unseemly, and
from whatever bears any likeness thereto.” In the interests of
the latter—the welfare of the secular world—they enacted such
laws as either tended to elevate the position of women, or to
promote the peace and welfare of members of their own commu-
nity, or to improve the relations between Jews and their Gentile
neighbours. They also held the great principle that nothing is
so injurious to the cause of religion as increasing the number of
sinners by needless severity. Hence the introduction of many
laws “for the benefit of penitents,” and the maxim not to issue
any decree which may prove too heavy a burden to the majority
of the community. The relaxation of certain traditional laws was [192]
also permitted when they involved a serious loss of property,
or the sacrifice of a man's dignity. Some old decrees were
even permitted to fall into oblivion when public opinion was too
strong against them, the Rabbis holding that it was often better
for Israelites to be unconscious sinners than wilful transgressors.
The Minhag, or religious custom, also played an important part,
149
, lit. “Court of Justice,” as above, note 16 to Elijah Wilna,
but it means also a sort of permanent Synod, in which of course justice was
also administered as a part of religion.
it being assumed that it must have been first introduced by some

eminent authority; but, if there was reason to believe that the
custom owed its origin to some fancy of the populace, and that
it had a pernicious effect on the multitude, no compunction was
felt in abolishing it.
Very important it is to note that the Oral Law had not at this
period assumed a character of such rigidity that all its ordinances,
etc., had to be looked upon as irremovable for all times. With
those who think otherwise, a favourite quotation is the adminis-
tratory measure laid dawn in Tractate Evidences,150 I. 5, where
we read that no Beth Din has the right of annulling the dicta
of another Beth Din, unless it is stronger in numbers (having a
larger majority) and greater in wisdom than its fellow tribunal.
Confess with becoming modesty that the world is always going
downhill, decreasing both in numbers and in wisdom, and the
result follows that any decision by the earlier Rabbis is fixed law
for all eternity. Weiss refutes such an idea not only as inconsistent
with the nature of Tradition, but also as contradictory to the facts.
He proves by numerous instances that the Rabbis did abolish
ordinances and decrees introduced by preceding authorities, and
that the whole conception is based on a misunderstanding. For
the rule in question, as Weiss clearly points out, originally only
[193] meant that a Beth Din has no right to undo the decrees of another
contemporary Beth Din, unless it was justified in doing so by the
weight of its greater authority. This was necessary if a central
authority was to exist at all. Weiss is indeed of opinion that
the whole passage is a later interpolation from the age of R.
Simeon b. Gamaliel II., when certain Rabbis tried to emancipate
themselves from the authority of the Patriarch. But it was not
meant that the decision of a Beth Din should have perpetual
binding power for all posterity. This was left to the discretion of
150
, “Evidences given by Witnesses.” The tractate consists mostly
of a number of laws attested by various Rabbis as having come down to them
as old traditions.
the legislature of each generation, who had to examine whether

the original cause for maintaining such decision still existed.
The rest of this volume is for the greater part taken up with
complete monographs of the Patriarchs and the heads of the
schools of that age, whilst the concluding chapters give us the
history of the literature, the Midrash, Mechilta, Siphra, Siphré,
Mishnah, etc., which contain both the Halachic and the Agadic
sayings emanating from these authorities.
With regard to these Patriarchs, I should like only to remark
that Weiss defends them against the charge made by Schorr and
others, who accuse them of having assumed too much author-
ity on account of their noble descent, and who describe their
opponents as the true friends of the people. Weiss is no lover
of such specious phrases. The qualifications required for the
leadership of the people were a right instinct for the necessities
of their time, a fair amount of secular knowledge, and, what is of
chief importance, an unbounded love and devotion to those over
whose interests they were called to watch. These distinctions, as
Weiss proves, the descendants of Hillel possessed in the highest [194]
degree. It is true that occasionally, as for instance in the famous
controversy of R. Gamaliel II. with R. Joshua b. Hananiah, or
that of R. Simeon b. Gamaliel II. with R. Nathan and R. Meir,
they made their authority too heavily felt;151
but this was again another necessity of those troubled times,
when only real unity could save Israel.
However, Weiss is no partisan, and the love he lavishes on
his favourite heroes does not exhaust his resources of sympathy
and appreciation for members of the other schools. Weiss is no
apologist either, and does not make the slightest attempt towards
explaining away even the defects of R. Akiba in his somewhat
151
The family of Hillel, which was supposed to be descended from the house
of David, supplied the Jews with patriarchs for many generations. Gamaliel
II. flourished about 120 A.C.{FNS, whilst Simon b. Gamaliel's activity as
Patriarch falls about 160 A.C.{FNS
arbitrary method of interpretation, which our author thinks much

inferior to the expository rules of R. Ishmael; but this does not
prevent him from admiring his excellences.
Altogether it would seem that Weiss thinks R. Akiba more
happy in his quality as a great saint than in that of a great
exegete. What is most admirable is the instinct with which
Weiss understands how to emphasise the right thing in its right
place. As an indication of the literary honesty and marvellous
industry of our author, I would draw attention to the fact that the
sketch of R. Akiba and his school alone is based on more than
two thousand quotations scattered over the whole area of the
Rabbinic literature; but he points in a special note to a sentence
attributed to R. Akiba, which presents the whole man and his
generation in a single stroke. I refer to that passage in Tractate
Joys,152 in which R. Akiba speaks of the four types of sufferers.
He draws the comparison of a king chastising his children; the
first son maintains stubborn silence, the second simply rebels,
[195] the third supplicates for mercy, and the fourth (the best of sons)
says: “Father, proceed with thy chastisement, as David said,
Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity and cleanse me from
my sin” (Ps. li. 4). This absolute submission to the will of God,
which perceives in suffering only an expression of His fatherly
love and mercy, was the ideal of R. Akiba.
The great literary production of this period was the Mishnah,
which, through the high authority of its compiler, R. Judah the
Patriarch, his saintliness and popularity, soon superseded all the
collections of a similar kind, and became the official text-book
of the Oral Law. But a text requires interpretation, whilst other
collections also demanded some attention. This brings us to the
two Talmuds, namely, the Talmud of Jerusalem and the Talmud
of Babylon, the origin and history of which form the subject of
Weiss's third volume.
152
, Semachoth. It is a euphemistic title, the tractate dealing with
the laws relating to funeral ceremonies and mourning.
Here again the first chapters are more of a preliminary char-

acter, giving the student some insight into the labyrinth of the
Talmud. The two chapters entitled “The instruments employed in
erecting the great Edifice,” and the “Workmanship displayed by
the Builders,” give evidence of almost unrivalled familiarity with
the Rabbinical literature, and of critical powers of the rarest kind.
Now these instruments were by no means new, for, as Weiss
shows, the Amoraim employed in interpreting the Mishnah the
same explanatory rules that are known to us from the School of R.
Ishmael as “the Thirteen Rules by which the Torah is explained,”
though they appear in the Talmud under other names, and are in
reality only a species of Midrash. Besides this there comes an-
other element into play. It was the exaggerated awe of all earlier [196]
authorities that endeavoured to reconcile the most contradictory
statements by means of a subtle dialectic for which the schools
in Babylon were especially famous. There were certainly many
opponents of this system, and from the monographs which Weiss
gives on the various heads of the western and eastern schools
we see that not all followed this method, and some among them
even condemned it in the strongest words. However, it cannot
be denied that there is a strong scholastic feature in the Talmud,
which is very far from what we should look for in a trustworthy
exegesis. Thus we must not always expect to find in the Talmud
the true meaning of the sayings of their predecessors, and it is
certain that a more scientific method in many cases has led to
results the very opposite of those at which the later Rabbis have
arrived. This fact was already recognised in the sixteenth century,
though only in part, by R. Yom-Tob Heller and others. Only he
insisted that in this matter a line must be drawn between theory
and practice. But Weiss gives irrefragable proofs that even this
line was often overstepped by the greatest authorities, though
they remained always within the limits of Tradition. Indeed, as
Weiss points out, not every saying to be found in the Talmud is
to be looked upon as representing Tradition; for there is much
in it which only gives the individual opinion or is merely an

interpolation of later hands; nor does the Talmud contain the
whole of Tradition, this latter proceeding and advancing with the
time, and corresponding to its conditions and notions. As we
read Weiss, the conviction is borne in upon us that there was a
Talmud before, and another after The Talmud.
[197] Much space in this volume is given to the Agadah and the
so-called “Teachers of the Agadah.” Weiss makes no attempt at
apology for that which seems to us strange, or even repugnant
in this part of the Rabbinic literature. The greatest fault to
be found with those who wrote down such passages as appear
objectionable to us is, perhaps, that they did not observe the wise
rule of Johnson, who said to Boswell on a certain occasion, “Let
us get serious, for there comes a fool.” And the fools unfortu-
nately did come in the shape of certain Jewish commentators
and Christian controversialists, who took as serious things which
were only the expression of a momentary impulse, or represented
the opinion of some isolated individual, or were meant simply as
a piece of humorous by-play, calculated to enliven the interest
of a languid audience. But on the other hand, as Weiss proves,
the Agadah contains also many elements of real edification and
eternal truths as well as abundant material for building up the
edifice of dogmatic Judaism. Talmudical quotations of such a
nature are scattered by thousands over Weiss's work, particularly
in those chapters in which he describes the lives of the greatest
Rabbinical heroes. But the author lays the student under special
obligations by putting together in the concluding pages of this
volume some of these sentences, and classifying them under
various headings. I give here a few extracts. For the references
to authorities I must direct the reader to the original:—
“The unity of God is the keystone of dogmatic Judaism. The
Rabbis give Israel the credit of having proclaimed to the world
the unity of God. They also say that Israel took an oath never
to change Him for another God. This only God is eternal, in-
corporeal, and immutable. And though the prophets saw Him in

different aspects, He warned them that they must not infer from [198]
the visions vouchsafed to them that there are different Gods. ‘I
am the first,’ He tells them, which implies that he had no father,
and the words, ‘There is no God besides me,’ mean that he has no
son. Now, this God, the God of Israel, is holy in every thinkable
way of holiness. He is merciful and gracious, as it is said, ‘And
I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious,’ even though he
who is the recipient of God's grace has no merit of his own. ‘And
I will show mercy to whom I will show mercy,’ that is, even
to those who do not deserve it. His attributes are righteousness,
loving-kindness, and truth. God speaks words of eternal truth,
even as He himself is the eternal life. All that the Merciful One
does is only for good, and even in the time of His anger He
remembers His graciousness, and often suppresses His attribute
of judgment before His attribute of mercy. But with the righteous
God is more severe than with the rest of the world, and when
His hand falls in chastening on His saints His name becomes
awful, revered, and exalted. This God of Israel, again, extends
His providence over all mankind, and especially over Israel. By
His eye everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is given,
and the world is judged by grace, yet all according to the works
wrought. Hence, know what is above thee, a seeing eye and a
hearing ear, and that all thy deeds are written in a book.
“They [the Rabbis] believed that God created the world out
of nothing, without toil and without weariness. This world was
created by the combination of His two attributes, mercy and jus-
tice. He rejoices in His creation, and if the Maker praises it, who
dares to blame it? And if He exults in it, who shall find a blemish
in it? Nay, it is a glorious and a beautiful world. It is created [199]
for man, and its other denizens were all meant but to serve him.
Though all mankind are formed after the type of Adam, no one
is like his fellow-man (each one having an individuality of his
own). Thus he is able to say, ‘For my sake, also, was the world
created’; and with this thought his responsibilities increase. But

the greatest love shown to man is that he was created in the
image of God. Man is a being possessed of free will, and, though
everything is given on pledge, whosoever wishes to borrow may
come and borrow. Everything is in the gift of Heaven except
the fear of God. In man's heart abide both the evil inclination
and the good inclination; and the words of Scripture, ‘Thou
shalt not bow down before a strange god,’ point to the strange
god who is within man himself, who entices him to sin in this
world, and gives evidence against him in the next. But the Holy
One—blessed be He!—said, ‘I have created the evil inclination,
but I have also created its antidote, the Torah.’ And when man is
occupied with the Torah and in works of charity, he becomes the
master of the evil inclination; otherwise, he is its slave. When
man reflects the image of God, he is the lord of creation, and is
feared by all creatures; but this image is defaced by sin, and then
he has no power over the universe, and is in fear of all things.
“Another principle of Judaism is the belief in reward and
punishment. ‘I am the Lord, your God,’ means, ‘it is I who am
prepared to recompense you for your good actions, and to bring
retribution upon you for your evil deeds.’ God does not allow to
pass unrewarded even the merit of a kind and considerate word.
By the same measure which man metes out, it shall be meted
[200] out to him. Because thou drownedst others, they have drowned
thee, and at the last they who drowned thee shall themselves be
drowned. Though it is not in our power to explain either the
prosperity of the wicked or the affliction of the righteous, nev-
ertheless know before whom thou toilest, and who thy employer
is, who will pay thee the reward of thy labour. Here at thy door is
a poor man standing, and at his right hand standeth God. If thou
grantest his request, be certain of thy reward; but if thou refusest,
think of him who is by the side of the poor, and will avenge it on
thee. ‘God seeketh the persecuted’ to defend him, even though
it be the wicked who is persecuted by the righteous. The soul of
man is immortal, the souls of the righteous being treasured up

under the throne of God. Know that everything is according to
the reckoning, and let not thy imagination give thee hope that the
grave will be a place of refuge for thee, for perforce thou wast
formed, and perforce thou wast born, and thou livest perforce,
and perforce thou wilt die, and perforce thou wilt in the future
have to give account and reckoning before the Supreme King of
kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.
“The advent of the Messiah is another article of the belief
of the Rabbis. But if a man tell thee that he knows when the
redemption of Israel will take place, believe him not, for this
is one of the unrevealed secrets of the Almighty. The mission
of Elijah is to bring peace into the world, while the Messiah,
in whose days Israel will regain his national independence, will
lead the whole world in repentance to God. On this, it is believed,
will follow the resurrection of the dead.
“Another main principle in the belief of the Rabbis is the [201]
election of Israel, which imposes on them special duties, and
gives them a peculiar mission. Beloved are Israel, for they are
called the children of God, and His firstborn. ‘They shall endure
for ever’ through the merit of their fathers. There is an especial
covenant established between God and the tribes of Israel. God is
their father, and He said to them, My children, even as I have no
contact with the profanity of the world, so also withdraw your-
selves from it. And as I am holy, be ye also holy. Nay, sanctify
thyself by refraining even from that which is not forbidden thee.
There is no holiness without chastity.
“The main duty of Israel is to sanctify the name of God, for
the Torah was only given that His great name might be glorified.
Better is it that a single letter of the law be cast out than that the
name of Heaven be profaned. And this also is the mission of
Israel in this world: to sanctify the name of God, as it is written,
‘This people have I formed for myself, that they may show forth
my praise.’ Or, ‘And thou shalt love the Lord thy God,’ which
means, Thou shalt make God beloved by all creatures, even as

Abraham did. Israel is the light of the world; as it is said, ‘And
nations shall walk by thy light.’ But he who profanes the name
of Heaven in secret will suffer the penalty thereof in public; and
this whether the Heavenly Name be profaned in ignorance or in
wilfulness.
“Another duty towards God is to love Him and to fear Him.
God's only representative on earth is the God-fearing man. Woe
unto those who are occupied in the study of the Torah, but who
have no fear of God. But a still higher duty it is to perform the
commandments of God from love. For greater is he who submits
[202] to the will of God from love than he who does so from fear.
“Now, how shall man love God? This is answered in the words
of Scripture, ‘And these words shall be upon thy heart.’ For by
them thou wilt recognise Him whose word called the world into
existence, and follow His divine attributes.
“God is righteous; be ye also righteous, O Israel. By righ-
teousness the Rabbis understand love of truth, hatred of lying and
backbiting. The seal of the Holy One, blessed be He, is Truth, of
which the actions of man should also bear the impress. Hence,
let thy yea be yea, and thy nay, nay. He who is honest in money
transactions, unto him this is reckoned as if he had fulfilled the
whole of the Torah. Greater is he who earns his livelihood by
the labour of his hands than even the God-fearing man; whilst
the righteous judge is, as it were, the companion of God in the
government of the world. For upon three things the world stands:
upon truth, upon judgment, upon peace; as it is said, ‘Judge ye
the truth and the judgment of peace in your gates.’ But he who
breaks his word, his sin is as great as if he worshipped idols;
and God, who punished the people of the time of the Flood, will
also punish him who does not stand by his word. Such a one
belongs to one of the four classes who are not admitted into the
presence of the Shechinah; these are the scoffers, the hypocrites
(who bring the wrath of God into the world), the liars, and the
slanderers. The sin of the slanderer is like that of one who would
deny the root (the root of all religion, i.e. the existence of God).
The greatest of liars, however, is he who perjures himself, which
also involves the sin of profanation of the name of God. The
hypocrite, who insinuates himself into people's good opinions,
who wears his phylacteries and is enwrapped in his gown with [203]
the fringes, and secretly commits sins, equally transgresses the
command, ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in
vain.’
“God is gracious and merciful; therefore man also should be
gracious and merciful. Hence, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour
as thyself,’ which is a main principle in the Torah. What is
unpleasant to thyself, do not unto thy neighbour. This is the
whole Torah, to which the rest is only to be considered as a com-
mentary. And this love is also extended to the stranger, for as it is
said with regard to Israel, ‘And thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself,’ so is it also said, ‘And thou shalt love him (the stranger)
as thyself.’ And thus said God to Israel, ‘My beloved children,
Am I in want of anything that I should request it of you? But
what I ask of you is that you should love, honour, and respect
one another.’ Therefore, love mankind, and bring them near to
the Torah. Let the honour of thy friend be as dear to thee as thine
own. Condemn not thy fellow-man until thou art come into his
place, and judge all men in the scale of merit. Say not ‘I will
love scholars, but hate their disciples;’ or even, ‘I will love the
disciples, but hate the ignorant,’ but love all, for he who hates his
neighbour is as bad as a murderer. Indeed, during the age of the
second Temple, men studied the Torah and the commandments,
and performed works of charity, but they hated each other, a sin
that outweighs all other sins, and for which the holy Temple was
destroyed. Be careful not to withdraw thy mercy from any man,
for he who does so rebels against the kingdom of God on earth.
Walk in the ways of God, who is merciful even to the wicked,
and as He is gracious alike to those who know Him, and to those
[204] who know Him not, so be thou. Indeed, charity is one of the
three pillars on which the world is based. It is more precious than
all other virtues. The man who gives charity in secret is greater
even than Moses our teacher. An act of charity and love it is
to pray for our fellow-man, and to admonish him. ‘Thou shalt
in any wise rebuke thy neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him’
(Lev. xix. 18), means it is thy duty to admonish him a hundred
times if need be, even if he be thy superior; for Jerusalem was
only destroyed for the sin of its people in not admonishing one
another. The man whose protest would be of any weight, and
who does not exercise his authority (when any wrong is about to
be committed), is held responsible for the whole world.
“Peacefulness and humility are also the fruit of love. Be of the
disciples of Aaron, loving peace, and pursuing peace. Let every
man be cautious in the fear of God; let him ever give the soft
answer that turneth away wrath; let him promote peace, not only
among his own relatives and acquaintances, but also among the
Gentiles. For (the labour of) all the prophets was to plant peace
in the world. Be exceeding lowly of spirit, since the hope of
man is but the worm. Be humble as Hillel, for he who is humble
causes the Divine presence to dwell with man. But the proud
man makes God say, ‘I and he cannot dwell in the same place.’
He who runs after glory, glory flees from him, and he who flees
from glory, glory shall pursue him. Be of those who are despised
rather than of those who despise; of the persecuted rather than
of the persecutors; be of those who bear their reproach in silence
and answer not.
[205] “Another distinctive mark of Judaism is faith in God, and
perfect confidence in Him. Which is the right course for a man
to choose for himself? Let him have a strong faith in God, as
it is said, ‘Mine eye shall be upon the faithful (meaning those
possessing faith in God) of the land.’ And so also Habakkuk
based the whole Torah on the principle of faith, as it is said, ‘And
the just shall live by his faith’ (ii. 4). He who but fulfils a single
commandment in absolute faith in God deserves that the Holy

Spirit should rest on him. Blessed is the man who fears God in
private, and trusts in Him with all his heart, for such fear and trust
arms him against every misfortune. He who puts his trust in the
Holy One, blessed be He, God becomes his shield and protection
in this world and in the next. He who has bread in his basket for
to-day, and says, ‘What shall I have to eat to-morrow?’ is a man
of little faith. One consequence of real faith is always to believe
in the justice of God's judgments. It is the duty of man to thank
God when he is visited with misfortune as he does in the time of
prosperity. Therefore, blessed is the man who, when visited by
suffering, questions not God's justice. But what shall he do? Let
him examine his conduct and repent.
“For repentance is the greatest prerogative of man. Better is
one hour of repentance and good deeds in this world than the
whole life of the world to come. The aim of all wisdom is
repentance and good deeds. The place where the truly penitent
shall stand is higher than that of the righteous. Repentance finds
its special expression in prayer; and when it is said in Scripture,
‘Serve God with all thy heart,’ by this is meant, serve Him by
prayer, which is even greater than worship by means of sacri-
fices. Never is a prayer entirely unanswered by God. Therefore,
even though the sword be on a man's neck, let him not cease [206]
to supplicate God's mercy. But regard not thy prayer as a fixed
mechanical task, but as an appeal for mercy and grace before the
All-Present; as it is said, ‘For He is gracious and full of mercy,
slow to anger, abounding in loving-kindness, and repenteth him
of the evil.’ ”
The last two volumes of Weiss's work deal with the history of
Tradition during the Middle Ages, that is, from the conclusion
of the Talmud to the compilation of the Code of the Law by R.
Joseph Caro. I have already indicated that with Weiss Tradition
did not terminate with the conclusion of the Talmud. It only
means that a certain undefinable kind of literature, mostly held in
dialogue form and containing many elements of Tradition, was

at last brought to an end. The authorities who did this editorial
work were the so-called Rabbanan Saburai153 and the Gaonim,
whose lives and literary activity are fully described by Weiss.
But, while thus engaged in preserving their inheritance from the
past, they were also enriching Tradition by new contributions,
both the Saburai and the Gaonim having not only added to and di-
minished from the Talmud, but having also introduced avowedly
new ordinances and decrees, and created new institutions.
Now, it cannot be denied that a few of these ordinances and
decrees had a reforming tendency (see the second and twentieth
chapters of vol. iv.); in general, however, they took a more
conservative turn than was the case in the previous ages. This
must be ascribed to the event of the great schism within the
Rabbinical camp itself. I refer to the rise of Caraism, which took
[207] place during the first half of the eighth century.
There is probably no work in which the Halachic or legalistic
side of this sect is better described than in this volume of Weiss. I
regret that I am unable to enter into its details. But I cannot refrain
from pointing to one of the main principles of the Caraites. This
was “Search the Scriptures.” Now this does not look very dissim-
ilar from the principle held by the Rabbis. For what else is the
Talmud, but a thorough searching through the Bible for whatever
was suggestive by time and circumstances? The light which the
Caraites applied to the searching of the Scriptures was the same
which illumined the paths of the Rabbis' investigations. They
employed most of the expository rules of the Tannaite schools.
The fact is that they were only determined to find something
different from what the Rabbis found in the Scriptures. They
wanted to have gloomy Sabbaths and Festivals, and discovered
authority for it in the Bible; they wanted to retain most of the
dietary laws which had their root only in Tradition, but insisted
153
, “Elucidators” or “Explainers.” The heads of the schools in
Babylon during the fifth and sixth centuries were so designated.
on petty differences which they thought might be inferred from

the Scriptures, and they created a new “order of inheritance,” and
varied the forbidden degrees in marriage, in all which the only
merit was that they were in contradiction to the interpretation of
the Rabbis. They also refused to accept the Liturgy of Rabbinical
Judaism, but never succeeded in producing more than a patch-
work from verses of the Bible, which, thus recast, they called a
prayer-book. There were undoubtedly among their leaders many
serious and sincere men, but they give us the impression of prigs,
as for instance, Moses Darai, when he reproaches the Rabbinical
Jews for having an “easy religion,” or Israel Hammaarabi, when
he recommended his book on the laws regarding the slaughtering
of animals, as having the special advantage that his decisions [208]
were always on the more stringent side. Those who made a
pilgrimage to the Holy Land were by the Caraites canonised
as “mourners.” The Rabbanite R. Judah Hallevi also visited the
ruins of Jerusalem, but he did something more than “mourn and
sigh and cry,” he became a God-intoxicated singer, and wrote
the “Zion-Elegy.” The novel terminology which they use in their
exegetical and theological works, was only invented to spite the
Rabbanites, and marks its authors as pedants. On the other hand,
it is not to be denied that their opponents did not employ the
best means to conciliate them. The Middle Ages knew no other
remedy against schism than excommunication, and the Gaonim
were the children of their time. Nor were the arguments which the
latter brought forward in defence of Tradition always calculated
to convince the Caraites of their error. When R. Saadiah, in his
apology for the institution of the Second Day of the Festival,154
154
The Rabbinic Jews of the dispersion add one day to each festival, and thus
celebrate the Passover eight days, the Feast of Weeks two days, etc. The custom
arose out of the uncertainty about the first day of the month, the prerogative
of fixing the New Moon resting with the great Beth Din in Palestine, which
had not always the means of communicating in time the evidence given before
them that the New Moon had been seen by qualified witnesses. The prerogative
was abolished in the fourth century, and the calendar fixed for all future time,
went the length of assigning to it a Sinaitic origin, he could only

succeed in making the Caraites more suspicious of the claims
of Tradition than before. In a later generation one of his own
party, R. Hai Gaon, had to declare his predecessor's words a
“controversial exaggeration.” The zeal which some of the Gaon-
im showed in their defence of such works as the Chambers and
the Measure of the Stature155 was a not less unfortunate thing,
for it involved the Rabbanites in unnecessary responsibilities for
a new class of literature of doubtful origin, which in succeeding
centuries was disowned by the best minds in Judaism.
The Gaonic period, to which we also owe the rise of the Mas-
[209] sorah and the introduction of points in the text of the Bible—of
which Weiss treats fully in the twenty-third and twenty-fourth
chapters of vol. iv.—comes to an end with the death of R. Hai.
The famous schools of Sura and Pumbeditha, over which these
two Gaonim presided, fell into decay, and Babylon ceased to be
the centre of Judaism. To be more exact, we should say that
Judaism had no longer any real centre. Instead of dwelling in one
place for centuries, we now have to be perpetually on our journey,
accompanying our authors through all the inhabited parts of the
world—France, Italy, Spain, Germany, with an occasional trip
to Africa and Russia. There we shall meet with the new schools,
each of which, though interpreting the same Torah, occupied
with the study of the same Talmud, and even conforming more
or less to the same mode of life, has an individuality and character
of its own, reflecting the thought and habits of the country which
it represents. Thus “geographical Judaism” becomes a factor in
history which no scholar can afford to neglect. It is true that
Judaism never remained entirely unbiassed by foreign ideas, and
but the additional day is still kept by the Rabbinic Jews as the “Custom of their
Fathers.”
155
, , “Chambers (of Heaven)” and the
“Measure of the Stature,” mystical works in which occasionally gross anthro-
pomorphisms are to be found. Their authorship is unknown.
our author points in many a place to Persian, Greek, and Roman

influences on Tradition; still, these influences seem to have un-
dergone such a thorough “Judaization” that it is only the practised
eye of the scholar that is able to see through the transformation.
But it requires no great skill to discriminate between the work
produced by a Spanish and that of a French Rabbi. Though both
would write in Hebrew, they betray themselves very soon by the
style, diction, and train of thought peculiar to each country. The
Spaniard is always logical, clear, and systematising, whilst the
French Rabbi has very little sense of order, is always writing
occasional notes, has a great tendency to be obscure, but is [210]
mostly profound and critical. Hence the fact that whilst Spain
produced the greatest codifiers of the law, we owe to France
and Germany the best commentaries on the Talmud. What these
codes and commentaries meant for Judaism the student will find
in Weiss's book, and still more fully in his admirable essays
on Rashi (Solomon b. Isaac), Maimonides, and R. Jacob Tam
(published in his periodical, Beth Talmud, and also separately).
It is enough for us here only to notice the fact of the breadth
of Tradition, which could include within its folds men of such
different types as the sceptics, Maimonides, Solomon b. Gabirol,
and Abn Ezra on one side, and the simple “non-questioning”
Rabbenu Gershom, Rashi, and Jacob Tam on the other.
The last three centuries, which occupy our author's attention
in the fifth volume, are not remarkable for their progress. The
world lives on the past. The rationalists write treatises on Mai-
monides' philosophical works, whilst the German Talmudists add
commentary to commentary. It is, indeed, the reign of author-
ity, “modified by accidents.” Such an accident was the struggle
between the Maimonists and Anti-Maimonists, or the rise of the
Cabbalah, or the frequent controversies with Christians, all of
which tended to direct the minds of people into new channels
of thought. But though this period is less original in its work,
it is not on that account less sympathetic. One cannot read
those beautiful descriptions which Weiss gives of R. Meir of

Rothenburg and his school, or of R. Asher and his descendants,
without feeling that one is in an atmosphere of saints, who are
the more attractive the less they were conscious of their own
saintliness. The only mistake, perhaps, was that the successors of
[211] these “Chassidim or pious men of Germany” looked on many of
the religious customs that were merely the voluntary expression
of particularly devout souls as worthy of imitation by the whole
community, and made them obligatory upon all.
This brings us to the question of the Code already mentioned
(by R. Joseph Caro), with which Weiss's work concludes. I have
already transgressed the limits of an essay, without flattering
myself that I have done anything like justice to the greatest work
on Jewish Tradition which modern Jewish genius has produced.
But I should not like the reader to carry away with him the false
impression that our author shares in the general cry, “Save us
from the Codifiers.” Weiss, himself a Rabbi, and the disciple of
the greatest Rabbis of the first half of this century, is quite aware
of the impossibility of having a law without a kind of manual to
it, which brings the fluid matter into some fixed form, classifying
it under its proper headings, and this is what we call codifying the
law. And thus he never passes any attempt made in this direction
without paying due tribute to its author—be it Maimonides or
Caro. But however great the literary value of a code may be,
it does not invest it with the attribute of infallibility, nor does
it exempt the student or the Rabbi who makes use of it from
the duty of examining each paragraph on its own merits, and
subjecting it to the same rules of interpretation that were always
applied to Tradition. Indeed, Weiss shows that Maimonides
deviated in some cases from his own code, when it was required
by circumstances.
Nor do I know any modern author who is more in favour
[212] of strong authority than Weiss. His treatment of the struggle
between the Patriarch R. Gamaliel and his adversaries, which
I have touched on above, proves this sufficiently. What Weiss

really objects to, is a weak authority—I mean that phonograph-
like authority which is always busy in reproducing the voice of
others without an opinion of its own, without originality, without
initiative and discretion. The real authorities are those who,
drawing their inspiration from the past, also understand how to
reconcile us with the present and to prepare us for the future.
[213]
VIII. The Doctrine of Divine
Retribution in Rabbinical Literature
“Blessed be he who knows.” These are the words with which

Nachmanides, in his classical treatise, Gate of Reward, dismisses
a certain theory of the Gaonim with regard to this question; after
which he proceeds to expound another theory, which seems to
him more satisfactory. This mode of treatment implies that,
unsatisfactory as the one or other theory may appear to us, it
would be presumptuous to reject either entirely, there being only
One who knows the exact truth about the great mystery. But we
may indicate our doubt about one doctrine by putting by its side
another, which we may affirm to be not more absolutely true,
but more probable. This seems to have been the attitude, too, of
the compilers of the ancient Rabbinical literature, in which the
most conflicting views about this grave subject were embodied.
Nor did the Synagogue in general feel called upon to decide
between these views. There is indeed no want of theodicies, for
almost every important expounder of Job, as well as every Jewish
philosopher of note, has one with its own system of retribution.
Thus Judaism has no fixed doctrine on the subject. It refused a
[214] hearing to no theory, for fear that it should contain some germ
of truth, but on the same ground it accepted none to the exclusion
of the others.
These theories may, perhaps, be conveniently reduced to the
two following main doctrines that are in direct opposition to each
other, whilst all other views about the subject will be treated as
the more or less logical results of the one or other doctrine.
1. There is no death without (preceding) sin, nor affliction
209
without (preceding) transgression.156 This view is cited in the

name of R. Ammi, who quoted in corroboration the verses Ez.
xviii. 20, and Ps. lxxxix. 33. Though this Rabbi flourished
towards the end of the third century, there is hardly any doubt
that his view was held by the authorities of a much earlier date.
For it can only be under the sway of such a notion of Retribution
that the Tannaim were so anxious to assign some great crime as
the antecedent to every serious calamity by which mankind was
visited. The following illustrations will suffice:—“Pestilence
comes into the world for capital crimes mentioned in the Torah,
which are not brought before the earthly tribunal.... Noisome
beasts come into the world for vain swearing and for profanation
of the name (of God). Captivity comes upon the world for strange
worship and incest, and for shedding of blood and for (not) giving
release to the land.” As an example of the misfortune befalling
the individual I will merely allude to a passage in another tractate
of the Talmud, according to which leprosy is to be regarded as
the penalty for immorality, slander, perjury, and similar sins.157
If we were now to complement R. Ammi's view by adding that
there is no happiness without some preceding merit—and there is
no serious objection to making this addition—then it would re- [215]
solve itself into the theory of Measure for Measure, which forms
a very common standard of reward and punishment in Jewish
literature. Here are a few instances:—“Because the Egyptians
wanted to destroy Israel by water (Exod. i. 22), they were
themselves destroyed by the waters of the Red Sea, as it is said,
Therefore I will measure their former work into their bosom (Is.
lxv. 7);” whilst, on the other hand, we read, “Because Abraham
showed himself hospitable towards strangers, providing them
with water (Gen. xviii. 4), God gave to his children a country
blessed with plenty of water (Deut. viii. 1).” Sometimes this form
156
Sabbath, 55a.
157
Sayings of the Fathers (ed. C. Taylor), v. 12-15. See also Sabbath, 32 seq.,
and Mechilta (ed. Friedman), 95b. Arachin, 16a.
of retribution goes so far as to define a special punishment to

that part of the body which mostly contributed to the committing
of the sin. Thus we read, “Samson rebelled against God by his
eyes, as it is said, Get her (the Philistine woman) for me, for she
pleases my eyes (Judg. xvi. 21); therefore his eyes were put out
by the Philistines (Judg. xviii. 9)”; whilst Absalom, whose sinful
pride began by his hair (2 Sam. xiv. 25), met his fate by his
hair (2 Sam. xviii. 9).158 Nahum of Gemzo himself explained
his blindness and the maimed condition of his arms and legs
as a consequence of a specific offence in having neglected the
duty of succouring a poor man. Addressing the dead body of
the suppliant who perished while Nahum was delaying his help,
he said, “Let my eyes (which had no pity for your pitiful gaze)
become blind; may my hands and legs (that did not hasten to help
thine) become maimed, and finally my whole body be covered
with boils.”159 “This was the hand that wrote it,” said Cranmer
at the stake; “therefore it shall first suffer punishment.”
[216] It is worth noticing that this retribution does not always consist
in a material reward, but, as Ben Azzai expressed it: “The reward
of a command is a command, and the reward of a transgression is
a transgression.”160 So again: “Because Abraham showed him-
self so magnanimous in his treatment of the king of Sodom, and
said, I will not take from thee a thread; therefore, his children en-
joyed the privilege of having the command of Zizith, consisting
in putting a thread or fringe in the border of their garments.” In
another passage we read, “He who is anxious to do acts of charity
will be rewarded by having the means enabling him to do so.”161
In more general terms the same thought is expressed when the
Rabbis explained the words, Ye shall sanctify yourselves, and
158
See Mechilta, 25a, 32b. Gen. Rabbah, ch. 48, and Tossephta Sotah, iv. 7,
and parallels.
159
Taanith, 21a.
160
Sayings of the Fathers, iv. 5.
161
Baba Bathra, 9b.
211
ye shall be holy (Lev. xi. 44), to the effect that if man takes the
initiative in holiness, even though in a small way, Heaven will
help him to reach it to a much higher degree.162
Notwithstanding these passages, to which many more might
be added, it cannot be denied that there are in the Rabbinical
literature many passages holding out promises of material reward
to the righteous as well as threatening the wicked with material
punishment. Nor is there any need of denying it. Simple-minded
men—and such the majority of the Rabbis were—will never be
persuaded into looking with indifference on pain and pleasure;
they will be far from thinking that poverty, loss of children, and
sickness are no evil, and that a rich harvest, hope of posterity,
and good health, are not desirable things. It does lie in our
nature to consider the former as curses and the latter as blessings;
“and if this be wrong there is no one to be made responsible
for it but the Creator of nature.” Accordingly the question must
arise, How can a just and omnipotent God allow it to happen
that men should suffer innocently? The most natural suggestion [217]
towards solving the difficulty would be that we are not innocent.
Hence R. Ammi's assertion that affliction and death are both the
outcome of sin and transgression; or, as R. Chanina ben Dossa
expressed it, “It is not the wild beast but sin which kills.”163
We may thus perceive in this theory an attempt “to justify the
ways of God to man.” Unfortunately it does not correspond with
the real facts. The cry wrung from the prophets against the peace
enjoyed by the wicked, and the pains inflicted on the righteous,
which finds its echo in so many Psalms, and reaches its climax
in the Book of Job, was by no means silenced in the times of the
Rabbis. If long experience could be of any use, it only served to
deepen perplexity. For all this suffering of the people of God,
and the prosperity of their wicked persecutors, which perplexed
the prophets and their immediate followers, were repeated during
162
Yoma, 39a.
163
Berachoth, 33a.
the death-struggle for independence against Rome, and were not

lessened by the establishment of Christianity as the dominant re-
ligion. The only comfort which time brought them was, perhaps,
that the long continuance of misfortune made them less sensible
to suffering than their ancestors were. Indeed, a Rabbi of the first
century said that his generation had by continuous experience
of misery become as insensible to pain as the dead body is to a
prick of a needle.164 The anæsthetic effect of long suffering may,
indeed, help one to endure pain with more patience, but it cannot
serve as an apology for the deed of the inflictors of the pain. The
question, then, how to reconcile hard reality with the justice of
[218] God, remained as difficult as ever.
The most important passage in Rabbinical literature relating
to the solution of this problem is the following:—With reference
to Exod. xxxiii. 13, R. Johanan said, in the name of R. José, that,
among other things, Moses also asked God to explain to him
the method of his Providence, a request that was granted to him.
He asked God, Why are there righteous people who are prosper-
ous, and righteous who suffer; wicked who are prosperous and
wicked who suffer? The answer given to him was, according to
the one view, that the prosperity of the wicked and the suffering
of the righteous are a result of the conduct of their ancestors, the
former being the descendants of righteous parents and enjoying
their merits, whilst the latter, coming from a bad stock, suffer
for the sins of those to whom they owe their existence. This
view was suggested by the Scriptural words, “Keeping mercy for
thousands (of generations) ... visiting the iniquity of the fathers
upon the children” (Exod. xxxiv. 7), which were regarded as the
answer to Moses' question in the preceding chapter of Exodus.165
Prevalent, however, as this view may have been in ancient times,
the Rabbis never allowed it to pass without some qualification.
It is true that they had no objection to the former part of this
164
Sabbath, 13b.
165
Berachoth, 7a.
213
doctrine, and they speak very frequently of the “Merits of the

Fathers” for which the remotest posterity is rewarded; for this
could be explained on the ground of the boundless goodness of
God, which cannot be limited to the short space of a lifetime.
But there was no possibility of overcoming the moral objection
against punishment of people for sins they have not committed.
It will suffice to mention here that, with reference to Joshua
vii. 24, 25, the Rabbis asked the question, If he (Achan) sinned, [219]
what justification could there be for putting his sons and daugh-
ters to death? And by the force of this argument they interpreted
the words of the Scriptures to mean that the children of the
criminal were only compelled to be present at the execution of
their father.
Such passages, therefore, as would imply that children have
to suffer for the sins of their parents are explained by the Rabbis
as referring to cases in which the children perpetuate the crimes
of their fathers.166 The view of R. José, which I have already
quoted, had, therefore, to be dropped, and another version in
the name of the same Rabbi is accepted. According to this
theory the sufferer is a person either “entirely wicked” or “not
perfectly righteous,” whilst the prosperous man is a person either
“perfectly righteous,” or “not entirely wicked.”
It is hardly necessary to say that there is still something want-
ing to supplement this view, for the given classification would
place the not entirely wicked on the same level with the perfectly
righteous, and on a much higher level than the imperfectly righ-
teous, who are undoubtedly far superior. The following passage
may be regarded as supplying this missing something:—“The
wicked who have done some good work are as amply rewarded
for it in this world as if they were men who have fulfilled the
whole of the Torah, so that they may be punished for their sins in
the next world (without interruption); whilst the righteous who
166
See Mechilta, 68b, and parallels. Siphra, 112b. Pessikta of R. Kahana,
167b. Cp. Sanhedrin, 44a.
have committed some sin have to suffer for it (in this world) as
if "they were men who burned the Law,” so that they may enjoy
their reward in the world to come (without interruption).167 Thus
the real retribution takes place in the next world, the fleeting
existence on earth not being the fit time either to compensate
[220] righteousness or to punish sin. But as, on the one hand, God
never allows “that the merit of any creature should be cut short,”
whilst, on the other hand, He deals very severely with the righ-
teous, punishing them for the slightest transgression; since, too,
this reward and punishment are only of short duration, they
must take place in this short terrestrial existence. There is thus
established a sort of divine economy, lest the harmony of the
next world should be disturbed.
Yet another objection to the doctrine under discussion remains
to be noticed. It is that it justifies God by accusing man, declaring
every sufferer as more or less of a sinner. But such a notion,
if carried to its last consequences, must result in tempting us
to withhold our sympathies from him. And, indeed, it would
seem that there were some non-Jewish philosophers who argued
in this way. Thus a certain Roman official is reported to have
said to R. Akiba, “How can you be so eager in helping the poor?
Suppose only a king, who, in his wrath against his slave, were to
set him in the gaol, and give orders to withhold from him food
and drink; if, then, one dared to act to the contrary, would not
the king be angry with him?”168 There is some appearance of
logic in this notion put into the mouth of a heathen. The Rabbis,
however, were inconsistent people, and responded to the appeal
which suffering makes to every human heart without asking too
many questions. Without entering here into the topic of charity
in the Rabbinic literature, which would form a very interesting
chapter, I shall only allude now to the following incident, which
would show that the Rabbis did not abandon even those afflicted
167
Aboth de R. Nathan, 40a, 59b, and 62b.
168
Baba Bathra, 10a.
215
with leprosy, which, according to their own notion, given above, [221]
followed only as a punishment for the worst crimes. One Friday,
we are told, when the day was about to darken, the Chassid
Abba Tachnah was returning home, bearing on his shoulders the
baggage that contained all his fortune; he saw a leprous man
lying on the road, who addressed him: “Rabbi, do me a deed of
charity and take me into the town.” The Rabbi now thought, “If
I leave my baggage, where shall I find the means of obtaining
subsistence for myself and my family? But if I forsake this
leprous man I shall commit a mortal sin.” In the end, he allowed
the good inclination to prevail over the evil one, and first carried
the sufferer to the town.169 The only practical conclusion that
the Rabbis drew from such theories as identify suffering with sin
were for the sufferer himself, who otherwise might be inclined
to blame Providence, or even to blaspheme, but would now
look upon his affliction as a reminder from heaven that there is
something wrong in his moral state. Thus we read in tractate
Berachoth:170 “If a man sees that affliction comes upon him,
he ought to inquire into his actions, as it is said, Let us search
and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord (Lam. iii. 40).”
This means to say that the sufferer will find that he has been
guilty of some offence. As an illustration of this statement we
may perhaps consider the story about R. Huna, occurring in the
same tractate.171 Of this Rabbi it is said that he once experienced
heavy pecuniary losses, whereupon his friends came to his house
and said to him, “Let the master but examine his conduct a
little closer.” On this R. Huna answered, “Do you suspect me of
having committed some misdeed?” His friends rejoined, “And
do you think that God would pass judgment without justice?” R. [222]
Huna then followed their hint, and found that he did not treat his
tenant farmer so generously as he ought. He offered redress, and
169
Eccles. Rabbah, ix. 7.
170
5a.
171
7b.
all turned out well in the end. Something similar is to be found

in the story of the martyrdom of R. Simeon ben Gamaliel and R.
Ishmael ben Elisha. Of these Rabbis we are told that on their way
to be executed the one said to the other, “My heart leaves me,
for I am not aware of a sin deserving such a death”; on which the
other answered, “It might have happened that in your function as
judge you sometimes—for your own convenience—were slow
in administering justice.”172
But even if the personal actions of the righteous were blame-
less, there might still be sufficient ground for his being afflicted
and miserable. This may be found in his relations to his kind
and surroundings, or, to use the term now more popular, by
reason of human solidarity. Now, after the above remarks on
the objections entertained by the Rabbis against a man's being
punished for the sins of others, it is hardly necessary to say
that their idea of solidarity has little in common with the crude
notions of it current in very ancient times. Still, it can hardly
be doubted that the relation of the individual to the community
was more keenly felt by the Rabbis than by the leaders in any
other society, modern or ancient. According to the view given
by an ancient Rabbi whose name is unknown, it would, indeed,
seem that to them the individual was not simply a member of the
Jewish commonwealth, or a co-religionist, but a limb of the great
and single body “Israel,” and that as such he communicated both
for good and evil the sensations of the one part to the whole.
In the Midrash, where a parallel is to be found to this idea, the
[223] responsibility of the individual towards the community is further
illustrated by R. Simeon ben Yochai, in the following way: “It
is,” we read there, “to be compared to people sitting on board a
ship, one of the passengers of which took an awl and began to
bore holes in the bottom of the vessel. Asked to desist from his
dangerous occupation, he answered, ‘Why, I am only making
172
See Mechilta, 95b, and parallels.
217
holes on my own seat,’ forgetting that when the water came in it

would sink the whole ship.” Thus the sin of a single man might
endanger the whole of humanity. It was in conformity with the
view of his father that R. Eliezer, the son of R. Simeon (ben
Yochai) said, “The world is judged after the merits or demerits of
the majority, so that a single individual by his good or bad actions
can decide the fate of his fellow-creatures, as it may happen that
he is just the one who constitutes this majority.”173 Nor does this
responsibility cease with the man's own actions. According to the
Rabbis man is responsible even for the conduct of others—and
as such liable to punishment—if he is indifferent to the wrong
that is being perpetrated about him, whilst an energetic protest
from his side could have prevented it. And the greater the man
the greater is his responsibility. He may suffer for the sins of
his family which is first reached by his influence; he may suffer
for the sins of the whole community if he could hope to find a
willing ear among them, and he may even suffer for the sins of
the whole world if his influence extend so far, and he forbear
from exerting it for good.174 Thus the possibility is given that
the righteous man may suffer with justice, though he himself has
never committed any transgression.
As a much higher aspect of this solidarity—and as may have
already suggested itself to the reader from the passage cited [224]
above from the anonymous Rabbi—we may regard the suffering
of the righteous as an atonement for the sins of their contem-
poraries. “When there will be neither Tabernacle nor the Holy
Temple,” Moses is said to have asked God, “what will become
of Israel?” Whereupon God answers, “I will take from among
them the righteous man whom I shall consider as pledged for
them, and will forgive all their sins;” the death of the perfect
man, or even his suffering being looked upon as an expiation for
173
See Kiddushin, 40b. Mechilta, 63b. Lev. Rabbah, iv.
174
See Sabbath, 54a.
the shortcoming of his generation.175

It is hardly necessary to remind the reader of the affinity of
this idea with that of sacrifices in general, as in both cases it is
the innocent being which has to suffer for the sins of another
creature. But there is one vital point which makes all the differ-
ence. It is that in our case the suffering is not enforced, but is
a voluntary act on the part of the sacrifice, and is even desired
by him. Without entering here on the often-discussed theme of
the suffering of the Messiah, I need only mention the words of
R. Ishmael who, on a very slight provocation, exclaimed, “I am
the atonement for the Jews,” which means that he took upon him
all their sins to suffer for them.176 This desire seems to have its
origin in nothing else than a deep sympathy and compassion with
Israel. To suffer for, or, at least with Israel was, according to the
Rabbis, already the ideal of Moses. He is said, indeed, to have
broken the Two Tables with the purpose of committing some
sin, so that he would have either to be condemned together with
Israel (for the sin of the golden calf), or to be pardoned together
with them.177 And this conduct was expected not only from the
leaders of Israel, but almost from every Jew. “When Israel is in
[225] a state of affliction (as, for instance, famine) one must not say, I
will rather live by myself, and eat and drink, and peace be unto
thee, my soul. To those who do so the words of the Scriptures
are to be applied: And in that day did the Lord God of Hosts call
to weeping and to mourning, ... and behold joy and gladness....
Surely this iniquity shall not be purged out from you till ye die”
(Is. xxii. 12-14). Another passage is to the effect that, when a
man shows himself indifferent to the suffering of the community,
there come the two angels (who accompany every Jew), put their
hands on his head, and say, “This man who has separated himself
175
Exodus Rabbah, c. 35, and parallels.
176
See Negaim, ii. 1.
177
Exod. Rabbah, c. 46.
219
shall be excluded from their consolations.”178

We might now characterise this sort of suffering as the chas-
tisement of love (of the righteous) to mankind, or rather to Israel.
But we must not confuse it with the Chastisement of Love often
mentioned in the Talmud, though this idea also seems calculated
to account for the suffering of the righteous. Here the love is not
on the side of the sufferer, but proceeds from him who inflicts
this suffering. “Him,” says R. Huna, “in whom God delights he
crushes with suffering.” As a proof of this theory the words of Is.
liii. 10 are given, which are interpreted to mean: him whom the
Lord delights in He puts to grief. Another passage, by the same
authority, is to the effect that where there is no sufficient cause
for punishment (the man being entirely free from sin), we have
to regard his suffering as a chastisement of love, for it is said:
“Whom the Lord loveth He correcteth” (Proverbs iii. 11).179 To
what purpose He corrects him may, perhaps, be seen from the
following passage: “R. Eleazar ben Jacob says: If a man is visited
by affliction he has to be thankful to God for it: for suffering
draws man to, and reconciles him with God, as it is said: For [226]
whom God loveth he correcteth.”180
It is in conformity with such a high conception that affliction,
far from being dreaded, becomes almost a desirable end, and
we hear many Rabbis exclaim, “Beloved is suffering,” for by
it fatherly love is shown to man by God; by it man obtains
purification and atonement, by it Israel came in possession of
the best gifts, such as the Torah, the Holy Land, and eternal
life.181 And so also the sufferer, far from being considered as
a man with a suspected past, becomes an object of veneration,
on whom the glory of God rests, and he brings salvation to the
world if he bears his affliction with joyful submission to the will
178
Taanith, 11a.
179
See Berachoth, 5a.
180
Tanchuma, , § 2. Cp. Mechilta, 72b.
181
Siphré, 73b, and parallels.
of God.182 Continuous prosperity is by no means to be longed

after, for, as R. Ishmael taught, “He who has passed forty days
without meeting adversity has already received his (share of the)
world (to come) in this life.”183 Nay, the standing rule is that the
really righteous suffer, whilst the wicked are supposed to be in
a prosperous state. Thus, R. Jannai said, “We (average people)
enjoy neither the prosperity of the wicked nor the afflictions of
the righteous,”184 whilst his contemporary, Rab, declared that he
who experiences no affliction and persecution does not belong
to them (the Jews).185
2. The second main view on Retribution is that recorded by the
Rabbis as in direct opposition to that of R. Ammi. It is that there
is suffering as well as death without sin and transgression. We
may now just as well infer that there is prosperity and happiness
without preceding merits. And this is, indeed, the view held by
R. Meir. For in contradiction to the view cited above, R. Meir
[227] declares that the request of Moses to have explained to him the
mysterious ways of Providence was not granted, and the answer
he received was, “And I will shew mercy on whom I will shew
mercy” (Exod. xxxiii. 19), which means to say, even though he
to whom the mercy is shown be unworthy of it. The old question
arises how such a procedure is to be reconciled with the justice
and omnipotence of God. The commentaries try to evade the
difficulty by suggesting some of the views given above, as that
the real reward and punishment are only in the world to come, or
that the affliction of the righteous is only chastisement of love,
and so on. From the passages I am about to quote, however, one
gains the impression that some Rabbis rather thought that this
great problem will indeed not bear discussion or solution at all.
Thus we have the legend: “The angels said to God, why have
182
Taanith, 8a.
183
Arachin, 16b.
184
Sayings of the Fathers, iv. 15.
185
See Chagigah, 5a.
221
you punished Adam with death? He answered, On account of

his having transgressed my commandment (with regard to the
eating of the tree of knowledge). But why had Moses and Aaron
to die? The reply given to them is the words, Eccl. ix. 2: ‘All
things come alike to all; there is one event to the righteous and to
the wicked, to the good and to the clean and to the unclean.’ ”186
Another legend records, “When Moses ascended to heaven, God
showed him also the great men of futurity. R. Akiba was sitting
and interpreting the law in a most wonderful way. Moses said to
God: Thou hast shown me his worth, show me also his reward;
on which he is bidden to look back. There he perceives him
dying the most cruel of deaths, and his flesh being sold by weight.
Moses now asks: Is this the reward of such a life? whereupon
God answers him: Be silent; this I have determined.”187 [228]
It is impossible not to think of the fine lines of the German

poet:—
Warum schleppt sich blutend, elend,

Unter Kreuzlast der Gerechte,
Während glücklich als ein Sieger
Trabt auf hohem Ross der Schlechte?
Also fragen wir beständig,

Bis man uns mit einer Handvoll
Erde endlich stopft die Mäuler—
Aber ist das eine Antwort?
186
Sabbath, 55a.
187
Menachoth, 29b.
Still, one might perhaps suggest that these passages when

examined a little closer, not only contain a rebuke to man's im-
portunity in wanting to intrude into the secrets of God, but also
hint at the possibility that even God's omnipotence is submitted
to a certain law—though designed by His own holy will—which
He could not alter without detriment to the whole creation. In-
deed, in one of the mystical accounts of the martyrdom of R.
Akiba and other great Rabbis, God is represented as asking the
sufferers to accept His hard decree without protest, unless they
wish Him to destroy the whole world. In another place again,
we read of a certain renowned Rabbi, who lived in great poverty,
that once in a dream he asked the divine Shechinah how long
he would have still to endure this bitter privation? The answer
given to him was: “My son, will it please you that I destroy the
world for your sake?”188 It is only in this light that we shall be
able to understand such passages in the Rabbinic literature as that
God almost suffers Himself when He has to inflict punishment
either on the individual or on whole communities. Thus God is
[229] represented as mourning for seven days (as in the case when
one loses a child) before He brought the deluge on the world;
He bemoans the fall of Israel and the destruction of the Temple,
and the Shechinah laments even when the criminal suffers his
just punishment. And it is not by rebelling against these laws
that He tries to redeem His suffering. He himself has recourse
to prayer, and says: “May it be my will that my mercy conquer
my wrath, that my love over-rule my strict justice, so that I may
treat my children with love.”189 If now man is equal to God,
he has nevertheless, or rather on that account, to submit to the
law of God without any outlook for reward or punishment; or,
as Antigonos expressed it, “Be not as slaves that minister to
the Lord with a view to receive recompense.”190 Certainly it
188
Taanith, 25a.
189
Gen. Rabbah, xxvii.; Pessikta, 136b; Sanhedrin, vi. 5; Berachoth, 7a.
190
Sayings of the Fathers, i. 3, p. 27, ed. Taylor. See also note 8.
223
would be hazardous to maintain that Antigonos's saying was a

consequence of this doctrine; but, at any rate, we see a clear
tendency to keep the thought of reward (in spite of the prominent
part it holds in the Bible) out of view. Still more clearly is
it seen when, with reference to Ps. cxii., “Blessed is the man
... that delighteth greatly in his commandments,” Rabbi Eleazar
remarks that the meaning is that the man desires only to do His
commandments, but he does not want the rewards connected
with them.191 This is the more remarkable, as the whole contents
of this psalm are nothing else than a long series of promises of
various rewards, so that the explanation of Rabbi Eleazar is in
almost direct contradiction to the simple meaning of the words.
On the other hand, also, every complaint about suffering must
cease. Not only is affliction no direct chastisement by God in
the way of revenge; but even when it would seem to us that we
suffer innocently, we have no right to murmur, as God himself [230]
is also suffering, and, as the Talmud expresses it, “It is enough
for the slave to be in the position of his master.”192
This thought of the compassion—in its strictest sense of fel-
low-suffering—of God with His creatures becomes a new motive
for avoiding sin. “Woe to the wicked,” exclaims a Rabbi, “who
by their bad actions turn the mercy of God into strict justice.”193
And the later mystics explain distinctly that the great crime of
sin consists in causing pain, so to speak, to the Shechinah. One
of them compared it with the slave who abuses the goodness of
his master so far as to buy with his money arms to wound him.
But, on the other hand, it becomes, rather inconsistently, also a
new source of comfort; for, in the end, God will have to redeem
Himself from this suffering, which cannot be accomplished so
long as Israel is still under punishment.194 Most interesting is the
191
Abodah Zarah, 19a; Siphré, 79b.
192
Berachoth, 58b.
193
See Exod. R., 30, and parallels.
194
See , i. 9.
noble prayer by a Rabbi of a very late mystical school: “O God,

speedily bring about the redemption. I am not in the least thinking
of what I may gain by it. I am willing to be condemned to all
tortures in hell, if only the Shechinah will cease to suffer.”195
If we were now to ask for the attitude of the Synagogue to-
wards these two main views, we should have to answer that—as
already hinted at the opening of this paper—it never decided for
the one or the other. R. David Rocca Martino dared even to write
a whole book in Defence of Adam proving that he committed
no sin in eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge against the
literal sense of the Scriptures, which were also taken by the
Rabbis literally.196 By this he destroyed the prospects of many a
[231] theodicy, but it is not known to me that he was severely rebuked
for it. It has been said by a great writer that the best theology is
that which is not consistent, and this advantage the theology of
the Synagogue possesses to its utmost extent. It accepted with
R. Ammi the stern principle of divine retribution, in as far as
it makes man feel the responsibility of his actions, and makes
suffering a discipline. But it never allowed this principle to be
carried so far as to deny the sufferer our sympathy, and by a series
of conscious and unconscious modifications, he passed from the
state of a sinner into the zenith of the saint and the perfectly
righteous man. But, on the other hand, the Synagogue also gave
entrance to the very opposite view which, abandoning every
attempt to account for suffering, bids man do his duty without
any hope of reward, even as God also does His. Hence the
remarkable phenomenon in the works of later Jewish moralists,
that, whilst they never weary of the most detailed accounts of
the punishments awaiting the sinner and the rewards in store for
the righteous, they warn us most emphatically that our actions
must not be guided by these unworthy considerations, and that
our only motive should be the love of God and submission to His
195
See , 33b.
196
See Sabbath, 55b, and Siphra, 27a.
225
holy will.
Nor must it be thought that the views of the Rabbis are so
widely divergent from those enunciated in the Bible. The germ of
almost all the later ideas is already to be found in the Scriptures.
It only needed the process of time to bring into prominence those
features which proved at a later period most acceptable. Indeed, it
would seem that there is also a sort of domestication of religious
ideas. On their first association with man there is a certain rude
violence about them which, when left to the management of
untutored minds, would certainly do great harm. But, let only [232]
this association last for centuries, during which these ideas have
to be subdued by practical use, and they will, in due time, lose
their former roughness, will become theologically workable, and
turn out the greatest blessing to inconsistent humanity.
[233]
IX. The Law And Recent
Criticism197
Professor Toy's work, Judaism and Christianity, gives an ad-
mirable conspectus of the results of the modern critical school
in their bearing on the genesis of Christianity. The author takes
various important doctrines of Christianity, traces them back to
their origin in Israelitism, pursues their course through their var-
ious phases in Judaism, until they reach their final development
in the teaching of Jesus and His disciples, which, in the author's
judgment, is the consummation of that which the prophets and
their successors had to give to the world. Laying so much stress
as Professor Toy does on the saying, “By their fruits shall ye
know them,” he ought also, perhaps, to have told us what, in
the course of time, has become of these several doctrines. For
when, for instance, with regard to the doctrine of original sin, he
remarks that “in certain systems of Christian theology the human
race is involved in the condemnation of the first man” (p. 185, n.
1); or that, in the New Testament, “the demand for a mediating
power between God and humanity is pushed to the farthest point
which thought can occupy consistently with the maintenance of
the absoluteness of the one Supreme Deity” (p. 121), he is rather
evading a difficulty than answering it. Such elaboration would,
[234] however, have been outside the scope of Professor Toy's book,
which claims only to be a sketch of the progress of thought from
the Old Testament to the New. For his own solution of the
indicated difficulty, Toy, to judge from his liberal standpoint,
197
Judaism and Christianity, a Sketch of the Progress of Thought from Old
Testament to New Testament, by C. H. Toy, Professor in Harvard University.
London, 1890.
IX. The Law And Recent Criticism 227
would probably refer us to Dr. Hatch's Hibbert lectures; the issue

of such an appeal must, I imagine, remain for long doubtful and
disputed.
A delightful characteristic of Toy's book is its transparent
clearness and sobriety, which will make it interesting reading,
even to those who are acquainted with the writer's authorities
in their original sources. Almost entirely new, as well as most
suggestive, is the justice which Toy does to the law in recognising
it as a factor for good in the history of religion. In this point
Toy is not only up to his date, but beyond it. It is true that even
the Pharisees have made some advance in the estimation of the
liberal school. They are no longer condemned en masse as so
many hypocrites. It is even admitted that there were a few honest
men among them, such as Rabban Gamaliel, the teacher of Paul,
or R. Akiba, the patriot of Bethar. We are now too polite to be
personal. But with regard to the law, on the other hand, there is
at present a markedly opposite tendency. The general idea seems
to be that, as the doctrine of the resurrection of Christ must be
loosely interpreted in a spiritual sense, it must logically have
been preceded by a universal spiritual death, and the germs of the
disease which brought this death about are to be sought for in the
law. Hence the strained efforts to discover in the law the source
of all religious evil,—cant, hypocrisy, formalism, externalism,
transcendentalism, and as many “isms” more, of bad reputation. [235]
It was probably with this current representation of the law

in view that Toy, when speaking of the Levitical legislation,
and of its fixing “men's minds on ceremonial details which, in
some cases, it put into the same category and on the same level
with moral duties,” asks the question: “Would there not thence
result a dimming of the moral sense and a confusion of moral
distinctions? The ethical attitude of a man who could regard a
failure in the routine of sacrifice as not less blameworthy than an
act of theft cannot be called a lofty one” (p. 186). The answer
which he gives is more favourable than such a leading question
would induce us to expect. He tells us that, “in point of fact, the

result was different” (ibid). “The Levitical law is not to be looked
on as a mere extension and organisation of the ritual.... Its ritual
was, in great part, the organised expression of the consciousness
of sin” (p. 226). Of the law in general Toy says that it had
“larger consequences than its mere details would suggest,” for it
“cultivated the moral sense of the people into results above its
mechanical prescriptions,” and “it developed the sense of sin, as
Paul points out” (Gal. iii. 19), “and therewith a freer feeling,
which brought the soul into more immediate contact with God”
(p. 227); whilst in another place he reminds us “that much of
the law is moral, and that no one could fail to see a spiritual
significance beneath its letter” (p. 245), and he even admits that
“the great legal schools which grew up in the second century, if
we may judge by the sayings of the teachers which have come
down to us, did not fail to discriminate between the outward and
the inward, the ceremonial and the moral” (p. 186).
[236] These and similar passages will suffice to show that Toy's
estimate of the law is a very different one from that of Smend
and his school. However, it must not be supposed that he is
not on the look-out for the germs of the disease. He must find
these germs somewhere, or else the progress, which his book is
intended to illustrate, would be difficult to detect. And thus he
repeats the old accusations, though not without modification.
Professor Toy's objections may, perhaps, be summed up in
the passage in which he represents the Jewish law as “an attempt
to define all the beliefs and acts of life” (p. 239), or as “the
embodiment of devotion to a fixed rule of belief and conduct”
(p. 237). Toy does not entirely condemn this system, and even
speaks of it as a “lofty attempt” (p. 239); but, on the whole, he
considers that it must have resulted in bad theology, as well as
in doubtful conduct. Without following Professor Toy over the
whole area of his investigations, which would require a volume
for itself, I will only take the opportunity of making a few general
remarks upon the nature and character of this legal system, which
seems to hold the key to the spiritual history of Judaism.
First, as to its theology, Toy's description of the law as an
attempt to define all the beliefs of life—an assertion which is
also made by Schürer—is not wholly accurate. For such an
attempt was never made by Judaism. The few dogmas which
Judaism possesses, such as the Existence of God, Providence,
Reward, and Punishment—without which no revealed religion is
conceivable—can hardly be called a creed in the modern sense of
the term, which implies something external and foreign to man's
own knowledge, and received only in deference to the weight of
authority. To the Jew of the Christian era, these simpler dogmas [237]
were so self-evident that it would have cost him the greatest effort
not to believe them. Hence the fact that, whilst there have come
down to us so many controverted points between the Sadducees
and Pharisees with regard to certain juristic and ritual questions,
we know of only one of an essentially dogmatic character, viz.
the dispute concerning the Resurrection.
It is thus difficult to imagine to what Professor Toy can be
alluding when he speaks of the “interest they (the Jews) threw
into the discussion and determination of minutiæ of faith” (p.
241). Discussions upon minutiæ of faith are only to be read in
the works of the later schoolmen (as Saadiah, Maimonides and
their followers), in which such subtle problems as Creatio ex
nihilo, the origin of evil, predestination, free will and similar
subjects are examined; but this period is very distant from that
with which Toy is concerned. The older schools and the so-called
houses of Shammai and Hillel, most of whose members were the
contemporaries of the Apostles, show very little predilection for
such minutiæ. Their discussions and differences of opinion about
ritual matters are very numerous, scattered as they are over the
whole of the ancient Rabbinic literature, but I can only remember
two of a metaphysical character, or touching upon the minutiæ
of faith. The one, dealing with the efficacy of certain sacrifices,
discusses whether it only extends to the remission of the pending

punishment for sins, or also includes their purification and wash-
ing away; the other considers the question whether it would not
have been better for man not to have been created.198 But this
latter controversy, which is said to have lasted for two years and
[238] a half, by no means led to any big metaphysical or theological
system, but only to the practical advice that, as we have been
created, we ought to be watchful over our conduct. It is, indeed, a
noteworthy feature of Judaism that theological speculations have
never resulted in the formulation of any imposing or universal
doctrine, but usually in divers ceremonial practices. To give one
illustration: according to Professor Toy (p. 210) the conclusion
which the author of 1 Tim. ii. 11-14 draws from the fact that
woman was the immediate agent of the introduction of sin was
the subordination of her sex. The Rabbis also noticed the same
fact, and in their less abstract language speak of woman as having
brought death and grief into the world; but the conclusion which
they drew was that since woman had extinguished the “light of
the world,” she ought to atone for it by lighting the candles for
the Sabbath.199 Nor is Toy quite correct when he maintains that
the conception of the Memra as Creator and Lord, etc., and as
“representative of the immediate divine activity,” did not keep
its hold on Jewish thought, having been discarded in the later
literature (p. 104). For the Shechinah of the Talmud, the Meta-
tron200 of the Gaonic-mystical literature, the Active Intelligence
of the philosophical schools, as well as the Ten Sephiroth201
(Emanations) of the Cabbalists, all owe their existence to the
198
See Pessikta of R. Kahana, 61b, and parallels, and Erubin, 13b.
199
Tal. Jer., Sabbath, 5b.
200
, the name of an angel, already found in the Talmud, but
playing a more important part in the Book of Chambers, where he is identified
with Enoch. The etymology of the word is doubtful, some authors considering
it to be of Persian origin (Mithra); others again deriving it from the Greek ¼µÄp
Ä{Á±½½¿½, or ¼µÄp ¸Áy½¿½.
201
.
same theosophic scruples and subtleties in which the Logos of

Philo and the Memra202 of the Targums originated. Thus, they
always kept—though under various forms—their hold on the
Jewish mind. Judaism was always broad enough to accommo-
date itself to these formulæ, which for the one may mean the
most holy mysteries, and for the other empty and meaningless
catchwords. The objection—in fact, the active opposition—of
the Synagogue began when these possible or impossible expla- [239]
nations of the universe tended to transgress the bounds of abstract
speculation, and, passing over into real concrete beings, to be
worshipped as such. An instance from comparatively modern
times might be found in one of the vagaries of the followers of
the Pseudo-Messiah, Shabbethai Tsebi. For many generations
the controversy had raged among the Cabbalists, whether the
first of the above-mentioned Ten Emanations (called by some
Original Adam, by others, Crown203 ) is to be considered as a part
of the Deity or as something separate, and so to speak, having
a reality in itself. The danger of establishing a Being near the
Deity, having an existence of its own and invested with divine
attributes, could not have escaped the thoughtful, and there are
indeed some indications to this effect. The Synagogue as such,
however, remained during the whole controversy strictly neutral,
and allowed these theosophists to fight in the air as much as they
liked. But the moment that the sect of Shabbethai Tsebi identified
the incarnate Original Adam with their leader, and worshipped
him as a sort of God-Messiah, the Synagogue at once took up
a hostile attitude against those who separated God from His
world, and, declaring Shabbethai Tsebi and his followers to be
apostates, excluded them from Judaism for ever.
Nor can it be proved that legalism or nomism has ever tended
to suppress the spiritual side of religion, either in respect of
202
, “The Word,” sometimes substituted for God. See J. Levy's
Chaldäisches Wörterbuch, s.v.
203
, .
consciousness of sin, or of individual love and devotion. With

an equal logic quite the opposite might be argued. Professor Toy
tells us himself that it is no “accident that along with this more
definite expression of ethical-religious law we find the first traces
[240] of a more spiritual conception of righteousness in the ‘new heart’
of Jeremiah and Ezekiel” (p. 235), whilst in another passage
we read that “a turning point is marked by the Deuteronomist
Jeremiah and Ezekiel, who announce the principles of individual
responsibility and inwardness of obedience” (p. 184). Now, two
things are certain; first, that Ezekiel urges the necessity of the
new heart as well as of individual responsibility more keenly than
any of his predecessors; secondly, that in Ezekiel the legalistic
tendency is more evident than in Deuteronomy and Jeremiah.
The logical conclusion would thus be that the higher ideals of
religion are not only not inconsistent with legalism, but are the
very outcome of it, and the so-called Priestly Code, by the very
fact of its markedly legalistic tendency, should be considered as a
step in the right direction. The latter assertion sounds like a para-
dox, but it will seem less so when the prevailing characteristic
of this portion of the Pentateuch, as given even by Kuenen, who
is by no means a champion of the Law, is borne in mind. “The
centre of gravity,” according to the great Dutch critic, “lies for
the priestly author elsewhere than for the prophet; it lies in man's
attitude, not towards his fellow-men, but towards God; not in his
social, but in his personal life” (Hibbert Lectures, p. 161). It is
here that we seem to strike the keynote of the Weltanschauung
of the Priestly Legislation. In it man is more than a social being.
He has also an individual life of his own, his joys and sorrows,
his historical claims, his traditions of the past, and his hopes for
the future—and all these have to be brought under the influence
of religion, and to become sanctified through their relation to
God. Hence, the work of the Priestly narrator and legislator
[241] opens with a cosmogony of his own, in which we find the
grand theological idea of man being created in the Divine image;
hence, too, his religious conception of the history of the nation

and the control claimed by him over all the details of human life,
which became with him so many opportunities for the worship
of God. To him, God is not a mere figurehead; He not only
reigns, but governs. Everywhere,—in the temple, in the judge's
seat, in the family, in the farm, and in the market-place,—His
presence is felt in enforcing the laws bearing His imprimatur, “I
am the Lord thy God.” By thus diffusing religion over the whole
domain of human life—not confining it to the social institutions
which are represented only by a few personages, such as the
king, the princes, the priests, the judges or elders—they made
it the common good of the whole people, and the feeling of
personal responsibility for this good became much deeper than
before. Thus it came to pass that whilst, during the first temple,
the apostasy of kings and aristocracy involved the entire people,
so that the words “And he (the king) did evil in the sight of
the Lord,” embrace the whole nation, during the second temple
it was no longer of much consequence which side the political
leaders took. Both during the Hellenistic persecutions, as well
as afterwards in the struggles of some Maccabean kings with the
Pharisees, the bulk of the people showed that they considered
religion as their own personal affair, not to be regulated by the
conscience of either priest or prince. It is true that this success
may be largely ascribed to such contemporary religious factors
as the Synagogue with its minimum of form, the Scribes with
their activity as teachers, and the Psalmists with their divine
enthusiasm; but the very circumstance that these factors arose [242]
and flourished under the influence of the Priestly Code would
suffice to prove that its tendency was not so sacerdotal as some
writers would have us believe. Jewish tradition indeed attributes
the composition of the daily public prayers, as well as of others
for private worship, to the very men whom modern biblical criti-
cism holds responsible for the introduction of the Priestly Code.
Now this fact may perhaps be disputed, but there is little doubt
that the age in which these prayers were composed was one of
flourishing legalism. Nor is there any proof that the synagogues
and their ritual were in opposition to the temple. From the few
documents belonging to this period, it is clear that there was no
opposition to the legalistic spirit by which the Priestly Code was
actuated. This would prove that legalism meant something more
than tithes and sacrifices for the benefit of the priests.
Nor is it true that the legal tendency aimed at narrowing the
mind of the nation, turning all its thoughts into the one direction
of the law. Apart from the fact that the Torah contained other
elements besides its legalism, the prophets were not forgotten,
but were read and interpreted from a very early age. It was
under the predominance of the Law that the Wisdom literature
was composed, which is by no means narrow or one-sided, but is
even supposed by some critics to contain many foreign elements.
In the book of Job, the great problems of man's existence are
treated with a depth and grandeur never equalled before or since.
This book alone ought partly to compensate the modern school
for the disappearance of prophecy, which is usually brought as
a charge against the Law. Then, too, the Psalms, placed by the
[243] same school in the post-exilic period, are nothing but another
aspect of prophecy, with this difference, perhaps, that in the
Prophets God speaks to man, while in the Psalms it is man who
establishes the same communion by speaking to God. There is
no reason why the critical school, with its broad conception of
inspiration, and with its insistence that prophecy does not mean
prediction, should so strongly emphasise this difference. If “it
is no longer as in the days of Amos, when the Lord Yahveh
did nothing without revealing his counsel to his servants the
prophets,” there is in the days of the Psalmists nothing in man's
heart, no element in his longings and meditations and aspirations,
which was not revealed to God. Nay, it would seem that at times
the Psalmist hardly ever desires the revelation of God's secrets.
Let future events be what they may, he is content, for he is with
God. After all his trials, he exclaims, “And yet I am continually

with thee; thou hast taken hold of my right hand. According to
thy purpose wilt thou lead me, and afterwards receive me with
glory. Whom have I (to care for) in heaven? and possessing thee,
I have pleasure in nothing upon earth. Though my flesh and my
heart should have wasted away, God would for ever be the rock
of my heart and my portion” (Ps. lxxiii. 23-26). How an age
producing a literature containing passages like these—of which
Wellhausen in his Abriss (p. 95) justly remarks, that we are not
worthy even to repeat them—can be considered by the modern
school as wanting in intimate relation to God and inferior to that
of the prophets is indeed a puzzle.
Now a few words as to the actual life under the Law. Here,
again, there is a fresh puzzle. On the one side, we hear the
opinions of so many learned professors, proclaiming ex cathe- [244]
drâ, that the Law was a most terrible burden, and the life under
it the most unbearable slavery, deadening body and soul. On
the other side we have the testimony of a literature extending
over about twenty-five centuries, and including all sorts and
conditions of men, scholars, poets, mystics, lawyers, casuists,
schoolmen, tradesmen, workmen, women, simpletons, who all,
from the author of the 119th Psalm to the last pre-Mendelssohni-
an writer—with a small exception which does not even deserve
the name of a vanishing minority—give unanimous evidence in
favour of this Law, and of the bliss and happiness of living and
dying under it,—and this, the testimony of people who were
actually living under the Law, not merely theorising upon it, and
who experienced it in all its difficulties and inconveniences. The
Sabbath will give a fair example. The law of the Sabbath is one of
those institutions the strict observance of which was already the
object of attack in early New Testament times. Nevertheless, the
doctrine proclaimed in one of the Gospels—that the son of man
is Lord also of the Sabbath—was also current among the Rabbis.
They, too, taught that the Sabbath had been delivered into the
hand of man (to break, if necessary), and not man delivered over
to the Sabbath.204 And they even laid down the axiom that a
scholar who lived in a town, where among the Jewish population
there could be the least possibility of doubt as to whether the
Sabbath might be broken for the benefit of a dangerously sick
person, was to be despised as a man neglecting his duty; for, as
Maimonides points out, the laws of the Torah are not meant as
an infliction upon mankind, “but as mercy, loving-kindness, and
peace.”205
[245] The attacks upon the Jewish Sabbath have not abated with
the lapse of time. The day is still described by almost every
Christian writer on the subject in the most gloomy colours, and
long lists are given of minute and easily transgressed observances
connected with it, which, instead of a day of rest, would make it
to be a day of sorrow and anxiety, almost worse than the Scotch
Sunday as depicted by continental writers. But it so happens that
we have the prayer of R. Zadok, a younger contemporary of the
Apostles, which runs thus: “Through the love with which Thou,
O Lord our God, lovest Thy people Israel, and the mercy which
Thou hast shown to the children of Thy covenant, Thou hast
given unto us in love this great and holy Seventh Day.”206 And
another Rabbi, who probably flourished in the first half of the
second century, expresses himself (with allusion to Exod. xxxi.
13: Verily my Sabbaths ye shall keep ... that ye may know that I
am the Lord that doth sanctify you)—“The Holy One, blessed be
He, said unto Moses, I have a good gift in my treasures, and Sab-
bath is its name, which I wish to present to Israel. Go and bring
to them the good tidings.”207 The form again of the Blessing
204
Mechilta, 104a.
205
See Tal. Jer., Yoma, 45b. Cf. Maimonides, Mishneh Torah,
.
206
Tosephta Berackoth, iii. 7.
207
Sabbath, 10b. The name of the Rabbi is not given, but the fact that R.
Simeon b. Gamaliel (160 A.C.{FNS) already refers to this interpretation makes
over the Sanctification-cup208 —a ceremony known long before

the destruction of the Second Temple—runs: “Blessed art Thou,
O Lord our God, who hast sanctified us by Thy commandments,
and hast taken pleasure in us, and in love and grace hast given us
Thy holy Sabbath as an inheritance.” All these Rabbis evidently
regarded the Sabbath as a gift from heaven, an expression of
the infinite mercy and grace of God which He manifested to His
beloved children.
And the gift was, as already said, a good gift. Thus the Rabbis
paraphrase the words in the Scripture “See, for that the Lord [246]
hath given you the Sabbath” (Exod. xvi. 29): God said unto
Israel behold the gem I gave you, My children I gave you the
Sabbath for your good. Sanctify or honour the Sabbath by choice
meals, beautiful garments; delight your soul with pleasure and
I will reward you (for this very pleasure); as it is said: “And
if thou wilt call the Sabbath a delight and the holy of the Lord
honourable (that is honouring the Sabbath in this way) ... then
shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord” (Is. lviii. 13, 14).209
The delight of the Sabbath was keenly felt. Israel fell in love
with the Sabbath, and in the hyperbolic language of the Agadah
the Sabbath is personified as the “Bride of Israel,” whilst others
called it “Queen Sabbath,”210 and they are actually jealous of a
certain class of semi-proselytes who, as it seems, were willing
to observe the Sabbath, but declined to submit to the covenant
of Abraham. The Gentile Sabbath-keepers—who, like all the
nations of the world, envy Israel their Sabbath—the Rabbis con-
it clear that its anonymous author must have lived at least a generation before.
208
.
209
See Midrash to the Psalms xcii. and Deut. Rabbah iii. The Rabbis perceived
in the words (Isa. lviii. 13), a command to make
the Sabbath a day of pleasure, whilst the word was understood by
them to mean “needs,” “wants,” or “business” (not “pleasure”). Cf. Sabbath,
113a and b.
210
See Gen. Rabbah, xi. (and parallels), and Sabbath, 119a.
sidered as shameless intruders deserving punishment.211 No, it

was Israel's own Queen or Bride Sabbath whose appearance in all
her heavenly glory they were impatiently awaiting. Thus we are
told of R. Judah b. Ilai that when the eve of the Sabbath came “he
made his ablutions, wrapped himself up in his white linen with
fringed borders looking like an angel of the Lord of Hosts,” thus
prepared for the solemn reception of Queen Sabbath. Another
Rabbi used to put on his best clothes, and arise and invite the
Sabbath with the words: “Come in Bride, come in.”212 What
the Bride brought was peace and bliss. Nay, man is provided
with a super soul for the Sabbath, enabling him to bear both the
[247] spiritual and the material delights of the day with dignity and
solemnity.213 The very light (or expression) of man's face is
different on Sabbath, testifying to his inward peace and rest. And
when man has recited his prayers (on the eve of the Sabbath) and
thus borne testimony to God's creation of the world and to the
glory of the Sabbath, there appear the two angels who accompany
him, lay their hands on his head and impart to him their blessing
with the words: “And thine iniquity is taken away and thy sin
purged” (Is. vi. 7).214 For nothing is allowed to disturb the peace
of the Sabbath; not even “the sorrows of sin,” though the Sabbath
had such a solemn effect on people that even the worldly man
would not utter an untruth on the Day of the Lord. Hence it was
not only forbidden to pray on Sabbath for one's own (material)
needs, but everything in the liturgy of a mournful character (as
for instance the confession of sin, supplication for pardon) was
carefully avoided. It was with difficulty, as the Rabbis say, that
they made an exception in the case of condoling with people
who had suffered loss through the death of near relatives. There
is no room for morbid sentiment on Sabbath, for the blessing of
211
See Maaseh Torah (ed. Schönblum) and Deut. Rabbah, i.
212
Sabbath, 25b and 119a.
213
Betsah, 16a. Cf. Baer's notes in his Prayer-Book, p. 203 seq.
214
See Sabbath, 119b, and Gen. Rabbah, xi.
the Lord maketh rich, and He addeth no sorrow with it (Prov.

x. 22).215 The burden of the Sabbath prayers is for peace, rest,
sanctification, and joy (through salvation) and praise of God for
this ineffable bliss of the Sabbath.
Such was the Sabbath of the old Rabbis and the same spirit
continued through all ages. The Sabbath was and is still cele-
brated by the people who did and do observe it, in hundreds of
hymns, which would fill volumes, as a day of rest and joy, of
pleasure and delight, a day in which man enjoys some foretaste
of the pure bliss and happiness which are stored up for the [248]
righteous in the world to come. Somebody, either the learned
professors, or the millions of the Jewish people, must be under
an illusion. Which it is I leave to the reader to decide.
It is also an illusion to speak of the burden which a scrupulous
care to observe six hundred and thirteen commandments must
have laid upon the Jew. Even a superficial analysis will discover
that in the time of Christ many of these commandments were
already obsolete (as for instance those relating to the taberna-
cle and to the conquest of Palestine), while others concerned
only certain classes, as the priests, the judges, the soldiers, the
Nazirites, or the representatives of the community, or even only
one or two individuals among the whole population, as the King
and the High-Priest. Others, again, provided for contingencies
which could occur only to a few, as for instance the laws concern-
ing divorce or levirate marriages, whilst many—such as those
concerning idolatry, and incest, and the sacrifice of children to
Moloch—could scarcely have been considered as a practical pro-
hibition by the pre-Christian Jew; just as little as we can speak of
Englishmen as lying under the burden of a law preventing them
from burning widows or marrying their grandmothers, though
such acts would certainly be considered as crimes. Thus it will
be found by a careful enumeration that barely a hundred laws
215
See Sabbath, 10b, and Gen. Rabbah, ibid.
remain which really concerned the life of the bulk of the people.
If we remember that even these include such laws as belief in
the unity of God, the necessity of loving and fearing Him, and of
sanctifying His name, of loving one's neighbour and the stranger,
[249] of providing for the poor, exhorting the sinner, honouring one's
parents and many more of a similar character, it will hardly be
said that the ceremonial side of the people's religion was not
well balanced by a fair amount of spiritual and social elements.
Besides, it would seem that the line between the ceremonial
and the spiritual is too often only arbitrarily drawn. With many
commandments it is rather a matter of opinion whether they
should be relegated to the one category or the other.
Thus, the wearing of Tephillin216 or phylacteries has, on the
one hand, been continually condemned as a meaningless su-
perstition, and a pretext for formalism and hypocrisy. But, on
the other hand, Maimonides, who can in no way be suspected
of superstition or mysticism, described their importance in the
following words: “Great is the holiness of the Tephillin; for as
long as they are on the arm and head of man he is humble and
God-fearing, and feels no attraction for frivolity or idle things,
nor has he any evil thoughts, but will turn his heart to the words
of truth and righteousness.” The view which R. Johanan, a Pales-
tinian teacher of the third century, took of the fulfilment of the
Law, will probably be found more rational than that of many a
rationalist of to-day. Upon the basis of the last verse in Hosea,
“The ways of the Lord are right, and the just shall walk in them,
but the transgressors shall fall therein,” he explains that while
one man, for instance, eats his paschal lamb with the purpose
of doing the will of God who commanded it, and thereby does
an act of righteousness, another thinks only of satisfying his
appetite by the lamb, so that his eating it (by the very fact that he
[250] professes at the same time to perform a religious rite) becomes
216
.
a stumbling-block for him.217 Thus all the laws by virtue of their

divine authority—and in this there was in the first century no
difference of opinion between Jews and Christians—have their
spiritual side, and to neglect them implies, at least from the
individual's own point of view, a moral offence.
The legalistic attitude may be summarily described as an at-
tempt to live in accordance with the will of God, caring less for
what God is than for what He wants us to be. But, nevertheless,
on the whole this life never degenerated into religious formalism.
Apart from the fact that during the second temple there grew up
laws, and even beliefs, which show a decided tendency towards
progress and development, there were also ceremonies which
were popular with the masses, and others which were neglected.
Men were not, therefore, the mere soulless slaves of the Law; per-
sonal sympathies and dislikes also played a part in their religion.
Nor were all the laws actually put upon the same level. With a
happy inconsistency men always spoke of heavier and slighter
sins, and by the latter—excepting, perhaps, the profanation of
the Sabbath—they mostly understood ceremonial transgressions.
The statement made by Professor Toy (p. 243), on the authority
of James (ii. 10), that “the principle was established that he who
offended in one point was guilty of all,” is hardly correct; for the
passage seems rather to be laying down a principle, or arguing
that logically the law ought to be looked upon as a whole, than
stating a fact. The fact was that people did not consider the whole
law as of equal importance, but made a difference between laws
and laws, and even spoke of certain commandments, such as
those of charity and kindness, as outweighing all the rest of the
Torah. It was in conformity with this spirit that in times of [251]
great persecution the leaders of the people had no compunction
in reducing the whole Law to the three prohibitions of idolatry,
of incest, and of bloodshed. Only these three were considered
217
Nazir, 23b.
of sufficient importance that men should rather become martyrs

than transgress them.
These, then, are some of the illusions and misrepresentations
which exist with regard to the Law. There are many others, of
which the complete exposure would require a book by itself.
Meanwhile, in the absence of such a book to balance and correct
the innumerable volumes upon the other side, Professor Toy has
done the best he could with existing materials, and produced a
meritorious work deserving of wide recognition and approval.
[252]
X. The Hebrew Collection of the
British Museum
The Hebrew collection in the British Museum forms one of the
greatest centres of Jewish thought. It is only surpassed by the
treasures which are contained in the Bodleian Library at Oxford.
The fame of these magnificent collections has spread far and
wide. It has penetrated into the remotest countries, and even the
Bachurim (alumni) of some obscure place in Poland, who oth-
erwise neither care nor know anything about British civilisation,
have a dim notion of the nature of these mines of Jewish learning.
All sorts of legends circulate amongst them about the “mil-
lions” of books which belong to the “Queen of England.” They
speak mysteriously of an autograph copy of the Book of Proverbs,
presented to the Queen of Sheba on the occasion of her visit to
Jerusalem, and brought by the English troops as a trophy from
their visit to Abyssinia, which is still ruled by the descendants
of that famous lady. They also talk of a copy of the Talmud of
Jerusalem which once belonged to Titus, afterwards to a Pope,
was presented by the latter to a Russian Czar, and taken away
from him by the English in the Crimean war; of a manuscript [253]
of the book Light is Sown,218 which is so large that no shelf can
hold it, and which therefore hangs on iron chains. How they long
to have a glance at these precious things! Would not a man get
wiser only by looking at the autograph of the wisest of men?
But even the students of Germany and Austria, who are
inaccessible to such fables, and by the aid of Zedner's, Stein-
schneider's, and Neubauer's catalogues have a fair notion of our
218
by R. Isaac b. Moses of Vienna (thirteenth century),
mostly on legal subjects.
libraries, cherish the belief that they would gain in scholarship

and wisdom by examining these grand collections. How often
have I been asked by Jewish students abroad: “Have you really
been to the British Museum? Have you really seen this or that
rare book or manuscript? Had you not great difficulties in seeing
them? Is not the place where these heaps of jewels are treasured
up always crowded by students and visitors?”
Yet how little does our English public know of these wonder-
ful things! We are fairly interested in Græco-Roman art. We
betray much curiosity about the different Egyptian dynasties.
We look with admiration at the cuneiform inscriptions in the
Nimrod room. We do not even grudge a glance at the abominable
idols of the savage tribes. But as to the productions of Jewish
genius,—well, it is best to quote here the words of Heine, who
ridiculed this indifference to everything that is Jewish, in the
following lines:—
Alte Mumien, ausgestopfte,

Pharaonen von Ægypten,
Merowinger Schattenkön'ge,
Ungepuderte Perticken,
Auch die Zopfmonarchen China's

[254] Porzellanpagodenkaiser—
Alle lernen sie answendig,
Kluge Mädchen, aber, Himmel!
Fragt man sie nach grossen Namen,

Aus dem grossen Goldzeitalter
Der arabisch-althispanisch
Jüdischen Poetenschule,
Fragt man nach dem Dreigestirn

Nach Jehuda ben Halevy,
Nach dem Salomon Gabirol
Und dem Moses Iben Esra.
X. The Hebrew Collection of the British Museum 245
Fragt man nach dergleichen Namen,

Dann mit grossen Augen schaun
Uns die Kleinen an—alsdann
Stehn am Berge die Ochsinnen.
Now Heine goes on to advise his beloved one to study the

Hebrew language. It would be indeed the best remedy against
this indifference. But this is so radical a cure that one cannot
hope that it will be made use of by many. A few remarks in
English, trying to give some notion of the Hebrew collection in
the British Museum, may, therefore, not be considered altogether
superfluous.
The Hebrew collection in the Museum may be divided into
two sections: Printed Books, and Manuscripts. The number of
the printed books amounted in the year 1867, in which Zedner
concluded his catalogue, to 10,100 volumes. Within the last
twenty-eight years about 5000 more have been added.
This enormous collection has grown out of very small begin-
nings. The British Museum was first opened to the public in the
year 1759. Amongst the 500,000 volumes which it possessed
at that time only a single Jewish work, the editio princeps of
the Talmud (Bomberg, Venice, 1520-1523) was to be found [255]
on its shelves. According to an article by Zedner in the He-
bräische Bibliographie (ii. p. 88), this copy of the Talmud
once belonged to Henry VIII. But very soon the Museum was
enriched by a small collection of Hebrew books, presented to it
by Mr. Solomon da Costa, surnamed Athias, who had emigrated
to England from Holland. The translation of the Hebrew letter
with which the donor accompanied his present to the Trustees of
the Museum was first published in the Gentleman's Magazine,
February 1760, and was afterwards republished by the Rev. A.
L. Green, in an article in the Jewish Chronicle, 1859. I shall
only reproduce here the passage relating to the history of this
collection. After expressing his gratitude to the “crowning city,
the city of London, in which he dwelt for fifty-four years in

ease and quietness and safety,” and telling us that he bequeaths
these books to the British nation as a token of his gratitude, Da
Costa proceeds to say that they are 180 books, which had been
gathered and bound for Charles II., with valuable bindings and
marked with the king's own cipher. These books were intended
as a present from the London Jewish community to Charles for
certain privileges which he had bestowed on them. The sudden
death of the king seems to have frustrated the intention of the
first donors. The books were scattered, and Da Costa had to
collect them again.
Small as this collection is, it is most valuable on account of its
including many early editions of Venice, Constantinople, Naples,
etc. The original letter of Da Costa, with a full list of the 180
books, is preserved in a MS. in the British Museum (Additional,
4710-11).
[256] Of still greater importance is the Michaelis collection. It
consists of 4420 volumes, and was bought by the Trustees of the
Museum in 1848. Other successive acquisitions, especially the
purchase of a large number of printed books from the Almanzi
collection, brought the Museum into possession of one of the
most complete and one of the largest Hebrew libraries in the
world.
After the foregoing remarks on the quantity of this collection, I
shall now attempt to give some idea of its quality. The following
table, taken from the Preface of Zedner's Catalogue, shows its
manifold contents:—
1. Bibles, 1260
2. Commentaries on the Bible, 510
3. Talmud, 730
4. Commentaries on the Talmud, 700
5. Codes of Law, 1260
6. Decisions, 520
7. Midrash, 160
8. Cabbalah, 460
9. Sermons, 400
10. Liturgies, 1200
11. Divine Philosophy, 690
12. Scientific works, 180
13. Grammars, Dictionaries, 450
14. History, Geography, 320
15. Poetry, Criticism, 770
The reader can see that almost every branch of human thought,
religious and secular, is amply represented in this collection.
Looking at this table from a geographical point of view, we may
perhaps classify the authors in the following way:—France and
Germany in the Middle Ages, Poland and the East in modern
times, are represented by the fourth, fifth, and sixth classes.
The Rabbis of Spain and Italy would probably excel in the last
five classes. In the productions of classes eight and nine all the
before-mentioned countries would have an equal share. English
Judaism, by reason of its large number of occasional prayers
and wedding hymns (Zedner, pp. 472, 652), may perhaps be
represented in the last class (criticism excluded). We in England [257]
are a pious, devotional people, and leave the thinking to others.
But what is still more welcome to the student is the fact that all
these branches of Jewish learning are represented in the British
Museum by the best editions. It would be a rather tedious task to
enumerate here all the early editions of which this collection can
boast. There is hardly any Hebrew book of importance from the
Bible down to the Code of R. Joseph Caro of which the Museum
does not possess the first printed edition. There are also many
books and editions in the Museum of which no second copy is
known to be in existence. An enumeration of these rare books and
editions would require long lists, the perusal of which would be
rather trying. But I shall say a few words to show the importance
of such early editions for the student. They possess, first, the
advantage of being free from the misprints which crept in with

every fresh republication. The art of editing books in a correct
and scientific way is of a very recent date. And even Hebrew
literature does not find that support from the public which would
enable scholars to edit Jewish books in such a way as Roman and
Greek classics are prepared by Oxford and Cambridge students.
A new edition of a Hebrew book meant therefore an addition of
new mistakes and misprints. And it is only by examining the
editiones principes that the scholar finds his way out of these
perplexities.
Another advantage is the fact that these early editions escaped
the hand of the censor, whose office was not introduced till a
comparatively late date. The same advantage is also possessed
by the Hebrew books published at Constantinople, Salonica, and
[258] other Mohammedan cities. Only Christian countries indulged in
the barbarous pleasure of burning and disfiguring Jewish books.
It is one of the most touching points in the life of R. David
Oppenheim, of Prague, who spent all his life and fortune in
collecting Hebrew works, and whose collection now forms one
of the greatest ornaments of the Bodleian Library, that he was
not allowed by the censor to enjoy the use of his treasures.
He had to put them under the protection of Lipman Cohen, his
father-in-law in Hanover, many hundreds of miles from his own
home. With the exception of the Bible hardly any Jewish books
escaped mutilation. In certain Christian countries some books
were not allowed to be published at all; of others, again, whole
chapters had to be omitted, while of others many passages had
to be expunged. The words Roman, Greek, Gentile, were strictly
forbidden, and had to be changed into Turks, Arabs, Samaritans,
or worshippers of the stars and planets. One can imagine what
confusion such stupid alterations caused. Fancy what blunders
would have been committed in history if the old chroniclers
had been compelled to change the Pope into the Grand Turk or
the Shah of Persia, the Christian rulers into as many califs and
pashas, or Rome and Athens into Pekin and Mecca!

It may perhaps be interesting to learn that Jews sometimes
imitated their bitter enemies in this work of mutilation. Thus
in the later editions of the Book of Genealogies by Abraham
Zacuto,219 a passage was left out reproducing the evidence given
by the widow of Moses de Leon to the effect that the cabbalistic
work, the Zohar, was a forgery manufactured by her poor dear
husband. Another omission of this kind is to be found in the
Code of R. Joseph Caro, mentioned above. Here the earliest
editions declare, in the heading of section 605, “a certain reli- [259]
gious usage” to be “a custom of folly.” In the republications, the
last three words were left out. From such nonsensical omissions
and changes only the earliest editions, which are abundant in the
Museum, were exempt.
A remarkable feature about the books of this Hebrew collec-
tion also is that many of them are provided in the margin with
manuscript notes by their former possessors. These often happen
to bear very great names in literature. I shall only mention here
R. Jacob Emden, Almanzi, Michael, Gerundi, and Heidenheim.
Of the works written by R. Jacob Emden, the Museum possesses
an almost complete author's copy with abundant corrections,
notes, and emendations by the author himself. His works are
still very popular among Polish and Russian Jews, especially
his Prayer-Book, and his Responses. It would be advisable for
publishers in these countries to avail themselves of this copy on
the occasion of a new edition. Of Christian scholars I should
name here Isaac Casaubon. A rather amusing mistake occurs
in Ben-Jacob's Treasure of Books in connection with this name.
Among the many valuable copies of Kimchi's grammatical work
Perfection,220 possessed by the Museum, there is included one
which belonged to Casaubon, and is full of notes by him. The
219
, Yuchasin.
220
, Miklal.
author of the Treasure speaks of a Perfection with notes by Rabbi

Yitzchak Kasuban. I was at first at a loss to guess who that Rabbi
Casaubon might be. When examining Zedner I found it was no
other than the famous Christian scholar, Isaac Casaubon. It is
not known that Casaubon's ambition lay in this direction. But
when Philo was regarded as a Father of the Church, Ben Gabirol
[260] quoted for many centuries as a Mohammedan philosopher, why
should not Casaubon obtain for once the dignity of a Rabbi?
After having given the reader some notion of the collection
of printed works, I should like now to invite him to accompany
me through the Manuscript Department of the Museum. But I
am afraid that I shall make a bad guide here; for the Museum is
still without a descriptive catalogue of the Hebrew manuscripts,
which is the only means of enabling the student to obtain a gener-
al view of the number and nature of these works. The manuscript
catalogue of Dukes goes only as far as 1856. It was, as we shall
soon see, just after this time that the Museum made its largest
and, to a certain degree also, its most valuable acquisitions in
Hebrew manuscripts. The following remarks must, therefore,
not be taken as the result of a systematic study of this collection,
which would be quite impossible without the aid of a catalogue.
They rest partly on the descriptions given of a certain number of
manuscripts in the catalogue by Dukes, but for the greater part
on occasional glances at this or that MS.
As to the history of the collection, it has grown out of small
beginnings just as that of printed books. The collection of
Dr. Sloane, which laid the foundation of the Museum Library,
contained only nine Hebrew MSS. Later acquisitions, as the
Harleian collection, the Cottonian collection, the Royal collec-
tion, and many other smaller collections marked as Additional
up to 1854, increased the number of the Hebrew manuscripts
to 232. Of much more importance was the Almanzi collection,
bought by the trustees of the Museum in 1865, and consisting of
335 MSS. Of succeeding acquisitions I shall mention here only
the Yemen MSS., which were brought to this country by the [261]
famous Shapira. The number of Hebrew MSS. at the present day
is said to exceed one thousand. But we must not forget that many
MSS. contain more than one work; in some cases even three or
four, so that the number of Hebrew works is far greater still.
I shall now speak of the nature and importance of these MSS.

As to their contents they may be easily grouped under the follow-
ing headings: Biblical MSS., Commentaries (to the Bible) and
Super-Commentaries, parts of the Talmud and their Commen-
taries, Theology, Philosophy and Ethics, Massorah, Grammar
and Lexicography, Cabbalah, Poetry, Mathematics, Astronomy,
Astrology and Magic, Historical and Polemical Literature, etc.
All these branches of theological and secular learning and even
of human folly are fairly represented in the collection of Hebrew
MSS. in the Museum, though often only by a part or a fragment
of a work.
Thus the Babylonian Talmud is to be found only in two

MSS. (Harl. 5508 and Add. 25,717) both of them including 11
Tractates, hardly a third part of the whole work. Indeed poor
“Rabbinus Talmud” had to go to the auto de fé on so many
occasions that one cannot wonder if only disjointed limbs are to
be found of him in libraries. The only complete MS. copy which
escaped this vandalism is that in the Royal Library in Munich,
from which Mr. Rabbinowicz has edited his monumental work,
Variae Lectiones of the Talmud.
All other libraries, Oxford included, have to be satisfied with

fragments. Still worse, as it is seen, fared the Jerusalem Talmud,
and excepting the well-known copy in Leyden from which the
Venice edition was prepared, not even fragments of this Talmud [262]
are to be found in the majority of libraries. To my knowledge
it is only the British Museum which can boast of the Jerusalem
Talmud in MS. extending over Order of Seeds and one tractate
of Order of Festivals221 (Or. 2122-24) with commentaries of R.

Solomon Syrillo, the first few pages of which were edited by Dr.
Lehmann of Mayence. The Museum also possesses a great part
of the Tosephta extending over 14 Tractates (Add. 27,296). Of
Midrashim we find in the Museum two excellent manuscripts of
the Genesis Rabbah, one of the Leviticus Rabbah, and one of
the Siphra and the Siphré (Add. 27,169 and 16,406), besides two
copies of the Midrash Haggadol and other Aagadic collections
brought from Yemen. The Midrash by Machir b. Abba Mari
to the minor prophets included in the Harleian collection (5704)
is unique. Of Liturgies, besides a great number of MSS. repre-
senting the most peculiar rites, I shall mention the Machzor222
Vitri (Add. 27,200-1) composed by the disciples of R. Solomon
b. Isaac, and forming in itself almost a small library. For, apart
from the prayers for festivals and week days which gave it its
title, it includes, besides the Sayings of the Fathers with a large
commentary, three of the Minor Tractates of the Talmud, many
responses by German and French Rabbis, and a whole series
of religious hymns by German and Spanish authors, and many
other literary pieces. Cabbalah is represented by various valuable
writings of the pre-Zoharistic time (see for instance Add. 15,299)
and the works of R. Moses de Leon and R. Abraham Abulafia.
Of Poetry, I shall point here to the Tarshish of R. Moses Ibn Ezra,
the Makames by Judah Al Charisi (Add. 27,122), and the Divan
[263] of R. Abraham of Bedres (Add. 27,188). Of works relating
to grammar and lexicography, I may refer to a Codex (Add.
27,214) which contains the lexicon of R. Menahem ben Saruk,
which is considered as the oldest Hebrew MS. in the Museum,
dating from the year 1091. Of historical works, I mention the
chronicle of R. Joseph the Priest (Add. 27,122) and the letter of
R. Sherira Gaon (Arundel 51), the oldest existing copy of this
221
, , the former treating of the agricultural laws of the
Bible, the latter of those relating to the Sabbath, Passover, and other festivals.
222
, “Cycle,” containing the liturgy for the festivals.
work (1189), which was edited by Dr. Neubauer in his Mediæval

Jewish Chronicles.
These examples will suffice to show the significance of the
MSS. collection of this Library. And the student may rest assured
that in whatever branch of Jewish thought he is interested, he
will always find in the Museum some Hebrew manuscript useful
for his purpose.
I ought now to say a few words as to the value of this collection
of manuscripts. Now, if the work contained in a MS. has never
been edited, as for instance the Machzor Vitri223 and so many
others, its value is established by the mere fact of its existence.
For those who published MSS. were not always guided by the
best literary motives. And while they published and republished
many books of which one edition would have been more than
enough, many other works of the greatest importance for Jewish
literature and history remained in manuscript. As an instance, it
will suffice to mention here the Zohar, which has passed through
twenty-four editions since the sixteenth century, whilst the earli-
est Jewish Midrash, the Pessikta de Rab Kahana, had to linger
in the libraries till the year 1868, when it was edited by Mr.
S. Buber. Thus there are still many pearls of Jewish literature
which exist only in MS. Likewise most publishers were careless
in their choice of the manuscript from which our editions have [264]
been prepared. Almost the whole of Jewish literature will have
to be re-edited before a scientific study of it will be possible.
But such critical editions can only be obtained by the aid of the
MSS. not yet made use of, in which better readings are to be
found. From this fact even those MSS. the contents of which
have been several times reprinted, as for instance the MSS. of
the Midrash Rabbah, gain the greatest literary importance. And
the more MSS. the editor of a work has at his disposal, the more
certain is he of being able to furnish us with a good text.
223
Since then edited by the Mekize Nirdamim.
But even when the whole of Jewish literature lies before the
student in the best of texts, there will still remain a great charm
about manuscripts. Printed books, like the great mass of the
modern society for which they are prepared, are devoid of any
originality. They interest us only as classes, and it is very seldom
that they have a story of their own to tell. It is quite different with
manuscripts, where the fact of their having been produced by a
living being invests them with a certain kind of individuality.
This is specially the case with Hebrew MSS., which were not
copied by men shut up in cloisters, but by sociable people living
in the world and sharing its joys and sorrows. Even women were
employed in this art, and I remember to have read in some MS. or
catalogue a postscript by the lady copyist, which, if I remember
rightly, ran as follows: “I beseech the reader not to judge me very
harshly when he finds that mistakes have crept into this work;
for when I was engaged in copying it God blessed me with a son,
and thus I could not attend to my business properly.”
[265] To be sure, some of these copyists were curious folk. Their
mind as well as that of the world around them must have been of a
peculiar constitution hardly conceivable to us. Take, for example,
Benjamin, the copyist of a certain Machzor in the Museum (Add.
11,639). This Machzor was written in times of bitter persecution.
The copyist, who was himself a learned man, alludes in one
place to the sufferings which the Jews in a certain French town
had to undergo in the year 1276. On one of them, the martyr R.
Samson, Benjamin the copyist composed a lamentation written
in a most mournful strain. But this lamentation is followed by a
wine-song, one of the jolliest and wildest parodies for the feast
of Purim.
Speaking of this Machzor I should like to remark that it forms
one of the greatest ornaments of the Museum. Besides including
the whole of the Pentateuch, the above-mentioned Tarshish by
R. Moses Ibn Ezra, and many other smaller literary pieces which
would require a small volume to describe them properly, this
MS. is most richly illuminated, and contains very many illustra-

tions. The subjects of these illustrations are biblical, sometimes
also apocryphal, such as—Adam and Eve in Paradise, Noah in
the Ark, Abraham meeting the angels, Sarah behind the door
listening to the conversation of her husband with his guests,
Moses with the rod in his hands dividing the Red Sea, Samson
riding on the back of a lion, Solomon on his throne, Daniel in the
lion's den, the king Ahasuerus holding out the golden sceptre to
Esther, Judith addressing Holofernes, the Leviathan, the mythical
bird Bar Yochni, and many other similar subjects. In passing I
recommend these illustrations and illuminations to the attention
of the artist as the most worthy examples of Jewish ecclesiastical
art,—if there is such a thing as a special Jewish art. The artist [266]
will find the Museum best suited for this purpose, its collection
being considered as the richest of the kind. Besides this Machzor
I must also allude to the illuminated Bible (Or. 2226-28) written
in Lisbon for R. Judah Alchakin—it is said to be one of the finest
specimens of such works—and the illuminated Mishneh Torah
of Maimonides, executed for R. Joseph of the famous Yachya
family, also thought to be most artistically done. The liturgies
for the Passover Eve service will also offer to the artist a rich
harvest, especially Codex, Add. 27,210, which the wealthy Lady
Rosa Galico presented to her son-in-law on his wedding-day, and
Codex, Add. 14,762, even the binding of which is considered as
an artistic curiosity.
Leaving now these marvels to the appreciation of the artist,
the greatest wonder which suggests itself to us is how the Jews
could maintain such a cultured taste in such unhappy times, and
get the means of satisfying it. These reflections about the owners
present themselves the more strongly to our mind when we meet
with one of those old Jewish prayer-books, which in many cases
formed the whole religious and literary treasure of the family. In
their fly-leaves, in which the births and deaths of successive gen-
erations are very often registered, the spiritus familiaris seems
to be still haunting the pages. When you turn them over and see
the service for Passover Eve, are you not bound to think of the
anxiety with which these poor creatures engaged in this ceremo-
ny lest they might be attacked suddenly by a fanatic mob? must
you not ask how they could bear life under such circumstances?
And when you turn a few more pages and arrive at the prayers
[267] read for the dead, must you not ask how did they die? Were they
perhaps burnt alive ad majorem Dei gloriam, or torn to pieces
by a “saintly mob”? Take again the illuminated copies of the
Bible and the Mishneh Torah, both of which were finished only a
few years before the great expulsion of the Jews from Spain and
Portugal, times when the earth already “burnt under their feet,
and the heaven was also very unkind to them.” And nevertheless
Jews were still, as these MSS. show us, cultivating science and
art. Another instance of such a devotion to science in spite of the
unfavourable times may be seen from a colophon to Codex Or.
39. It contains the book Nissim, a philosophical treatise on the
fundamental teachings of Judaism, together with a philosophical
commentary on the Pentateuch by R. Nissim of Marseilles, a
contemporary of R. Solomon ben Adereth in the thirteenth cen-
tury. The Museum copy was written by R. Jacob, the son of
David, who also added some annotations to the book. At the end
he says: “I have copied this book Nissim for my own use, that
I may study in it, I and my children and my grandchildren.... I
have finished it to-day, Sunday, the 28th of Ab, 5333 (1573), at
Venice, in the year of the expulsion which befell us on account
of our sins.” Now, only observe this poor R. Jacob, who has to go
through all these horrors, yet is still occupied in copying MSS.
for his own pleasure, and in meditating on the most complicated
problems of philosophy and religion.
But it is not always stories of this heroic nature that the MSS.
tell us. They betray also very much of the instability of human
affairs and their weakness. You find in many copies the words
that they must not “be sold or given in mortgage.” But scarcely
a generation has passed away, and they are already in the pos-
session of a new owner, who writes the same injunction to be [268]
broken again by his children in their turn. In Codex 27,122,
we find commendatory letters for a worthy poor man, who is so
unhappy as to have two grown-up daughters, and not to have
the means of supplying them with marriage portions. Indeed,
he must have been very poor, not possessing even a book in his
house, or else his troubles could not have been so great. For
in Codex Harl. 5702, we find the owner saying: “To eternal
memory that I have acquired this Third Book of Avicena from the
hands of my father-in-law, R. Jekuthiel, as a part of my dowry.”
As a sign of human weakness I give the following two in-
stances. There lies before me a cabbalistic Codex (Add. 27,199),
which acquired some notoriety from the fact of its having been
copied by the famous grammarian, R. Elijah Levita, for his pupil
Cardinal Aegidius. At the end of this MS. we read: “I (Levita)
have finished (the copying of) this book on Wednesday, the day
of Hoshana Rabba,224 5277 (1516), on which day I have seen
my head in the shadow of the moon. Praised be God (for it), for
now I am sure not to die in the following year.” These words
relate to a well-known superstition, according to which, when a
man is going to die in the course of the next year his shadow
disappears from him on the preceding Hoshana Rabba. But is
it not humiliating to see that the great Levita, who was superior
to many prejudices of his time, and taught Christians Hebrew,
and who denied the antiquity of the vowels in the Bible, which
was considered by the great majority of his contemporaries as a
mortal heresy—is it not humiliating to see this enlightened man
trembling for his life on this night, and anxiously observing his [269]
shadow? Another Codex lies before me (Add. 17,053), contain-
ing the Novellæ to three tractates of the Talmud. Its owner must
accordingly have been a learned man. But in the fly-leaf of this
224
Eve of the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles.
MS. we read the following words: “Memorandum—Thursday,

the 25th of Sivan, 5295 (1535), I have taken an oath in the
presence of R. David Ibn Shushan and R. Moses de Castro, etc.,
not to play (cards) any more.” I might perhaps suggest on this
occasion that in our days when all sorts of Judaisms are circulat-
ing, a cooking Judaism, a racing Judaism, a muscular Judaism,
and so many Judaisms more—it would be interesting to take up
also the subject of playing Judaism, and to write its history.
In conclusion I shall mention the colophon to Codex Harl.
5713, which may have some interest for the English reader. It
runs: “I have written it in honour of the noble and pious, etc.,
Humphrey Wanley, the noble Librarian of my Lord Treasurer.
May his glory be increased. In the year 5474 (1714) in the
holy community of London, under the reign of the noble and
happy Queen Anne. May the Lord increase her splendour and
glory.” The signature of the copyist is “Aaron the son of Moses,
born in the city of Navaschadok in Poland.” By the way, we
learn from this signature that the immigration of Polish Jews into
this country had already begun in the time of Queen Anne, and
perhaps still earlier.
Thus everything in a MS., the arrangement of the matter, the
remarks of the owners, the signature of the copyist, sets the
reader thinking, and contributes many a side-light to the history
of the Jews.
[270]
XI. Titles of Jewish Books
It is now more than half a century since Isaac Reggio in his
edition of Elijah Delmedigo's Examination of Religion, made the
remark that this book adds to its other merits that of bearing a title
corresponding to its contents,—a merit that is very rare in Jewish
books. Reggio proceeds to give a few specimens confirming his
assertion, and concludes his remarks with a eulogy on Delmedi-
go, who in this respect also had the courage to differ from his
contemporaries. Zunz also once wrote an article on titles of
books. But this article unfortunately appeared in some German
periodical which the British Museum does not possess, and I
could not even succeed in ascertaining whether Zunz treats at all
of titles of Hebrew books, nor am I aware that the subject has
been taken up by any other scholar, Isaac D'Israeli's few notes on
the subject in his Curiosities of Literature being scarcely worth
mention. It seems to me, however, interesting enough to deserve
some illustration, though I can by no means hope to be complete.
The titles of the books contained in the Bible need not be
discussed here; information concerning them is to be found in
every critical introduction to the Old Testament. The Rabbinical
works dating from antiquity also offer little opportunity for [271]
reflection on their titles. The Talmud, as a work, has no title at
all; for Talmud simply means “teaching” or “study.” Sometimes
it is termed ShaSS, an abbreviation of Shisha Sedarim,225 mean-
ing the Six Orders or divisions contained in the Mishnah. This
last word means, according to some authors, “Repetition.” Other
Tannaitic collections of laws or expositions of the Scriptures are
called “the Book” (Siphra), “the Books” (Siphré), or “Additions”
225
. .
(Tosephta to the Mishnah). The word Baraitha226 means the

external Mishnah that enjoyed less authority than the Mishnah
of R. Judah the Patriarch. Some approach to titles we find in the
names given to the different tractates included in the Mishnah, as
Berachoth, because it treats of Benedictions, Peah227 (Corner)
which contains the particulars concerning the law in Lev. xix.
and so forth. Of the few works quoted in the Talmud it will
suffice to mention the Seder Olam, the Order of the World, the
name of which is very suitable to the chronological contents of
the book. In general, I may observe that as long as the law which
prohibited the writing down of the Oral teachings was in force,
there hardly existed Jewish books. But where there are no books
there is also no need for titles. The few titles, however, which
can be proved to be historical are simple and to the point. It
is not till about the beginning of the Middle Ages, when this
prohibitive law had, for reasons not to be explained here, been
abolished, that we can speak of Hebrew books. But here also the
Title-confusion begins.
In order that we may have some general view of the thou-
sands of titles that are catalogued by the Jewish bibliographers,
it will perhaps be well to arrange them under the following six
[272] classes:—
I. Simple titles, that have no other object than that of indicating
the subject matter of the book. These are, as we have just seen,
the only kind of titles known to antiquity. The few books which
the Gaonim left us bear such simple titles as could have served
as models to later generations. Among them may be mentioned
the Halachoth or collection of Laws, Creeds and Opinions, by R.
Saadiah Gaon, the Book on Buying and Selling, by R. Hai Gaon,
containing the laws relating to commercial transactions. It may
be noticed that this last book is one of the best arranged in Jewish
226
.
227
.
XI. Titles of Jewish Books 261
literature, and displays more systematising powers than even the

Code of Maimonides. The greatest part of the literary activity of
the Gaonim consists in their Responsa, in which they gave deci-
sions on ritual questions, or explanations of difficult passages in
the Talmud. The titles borne by the various collections of those
Responsa belong to a period later than the author's. The great ma-
jority of the books produced by the Franco-German school may
also be included in this class. They are termed “Commentaries,”
“Additions” or “Glosses,” “Novellæ,” or “Confirming Proofs,”
and similar modest titles which show both their relation to, and
dependence on, another older authority. The largest collection of
Midrashim we possess bears the simple title “Bag.”228 Many of
the Responsa satisfy themselves with the words “Questions to,
and Answers by.”
II. Titles taken from the first word with which the book begins,
or from the first word of the Scriptural verse occurring first in
the book. This class is strongly represented by the Midrashim.
Thus the Midrash to the Song of Songs is also quoted as the
Midrash Chazitha,229 “Midrash, Seest thou” (the first text with
which this Midrash deals being Proverbs xxii. 28). The Midrash [273]
to the Psalms is called Midrash Shocher Tob,230 “Midrash, He
that diligently seeketh the good” (Prov. xi. 37). The Midrash
containing the legendary story of the wars of the sons of Jacob
with the Canaanites is quoted as Midrash V'yisseu,231 “Midrash,
And they journeyed,” as the story begins with the verse from
Gen. xxxv. 5. And this is the case with the titles of many other
Midrashim. Whether the work cited under the strange name
of Meat on Coals did not begin with those words, containing
some law relating to the salting of meat, I do not venture to
decide. Under this class we may also arrange those books that
228
, Yalkut.
229
.
230
.
231
.
are called after a phrase which is often used in the book, e.g.,
the Midrash Yelamdenu (He may teach us), or the Vehizhir,
“And He commanded us,” almost every paragraph in these books
beginning with the phrases mentioned.232 Probably all the books
belonging to this class received from the hands of their authors
or compilers no titles at all. The student who had to quote them
gave them names after the phrase or word which first caught his
eye. In later centuries this class disappears almost entirely (see,
however, Ben-Jacob's Treasure, p. 201, No. 827).
III. Pompous titles. The largest contributions to this class were
made by the mystical writers. Books which profess to know
what is going on in the heavens above and the earth beneath
cannot possibly be satisfied with modest titles. Thus we have
the “Book of Brightness” (Zohar), “the shining book” (Bahir),
“the Confidential Shepherd” (Moses).233 The books which the
Zohar quotes bear such titles as the Book of Adam, the Book of
Enoch. The only excuse for the Zohar is that the manufacturing
[274] of such books with pseudo-epigraphical titles had already begun
in antiquity. It is not, however, till the Gaonic period that a
whole apocryphal literature suddenly emerges which perplexes
the Gaonim themselves. No one is spared. Angels, patriarchs,
and martyrs are called upon to lend their names to these books.
What one resents most is that history came within the range of
the forger's activity. There is, for instance, the Josippon, which
professes to be written by Josephus, the well-known Jewish his-
torian of the first century. But in spite of all the care taken by the
author to disguise himself in the garb of antiquity, the Josippon
is a forgery of the ninth or tenth century. Of a similar kind is the
Book of Jasher, containing legendary stories relating to Biblical
personages. It pretends to be identical with the Book of Jasher
quoted in Joshua x. 13 and 2 Sam. i. 18. Some sixty years ago
232
.
233
.
a certain Mr. Samuel of Liverpool had the misfortune to make

himself ridiculous by maintaining the pretensions of this book;
for, indeed, it does not require much knowledge of the Agadic
literature to see that the Book of Jasher is only a compilation of
comparatively late Midrashim.
IV. Titles suggested by other Titles. As an instance of this we
may take Maimonides' great Code of Law, which bears the title
Mishneh Torah. The importance of the book made it the object
of study for hundreds of scholars, who wrote their commentaries
and glosses on it. Among the titles of the commentaries such
Title-genealogies may be discovered as Maggid Mishneh, Mish-
neh Lammelech; which last word again suggested such titles as
Emek ha-Melech, Shaar ha-Melech, and so on.234
The same process may be observed in other standard works,
the importance of which made them a subject of investigation [275]
and interpretation as the “Prepared Table,” one of the glosses to
which is called Mappah, “Tablecloth,” whilst others provided it
with the Shewbread and with New Fruit.
V. Euphemistic Titles, as “The Tractate of Joys,” treating of
funeral ceremonies and kindred subjects. It does not seem that
this title was known to antiquity, but it is certain that already the
earlier authorities quoted it by this name. “The Book of Life”
(the German Jewish title of which is Alle Dinim, von Freuden),
is the name of a very popular book containing the prayers to be
read in the house of mourning as well as in the cemetery, which
is also called the House of Life.
VI. Titles taken from the Bible, or Fancy Titles. This is the
largest class of all, though it was utterly unknown in antiquity. It
will be, perhaps, convenient to arrange this class of titles under
the following sub-divisions. (a) Titles taken from the Bible, but
also fulfilling the purpose of indicating the name of the author.
For instance, “Seed of Abraham” (Ps. cv. 6), is the title of
234
, , ,
, .
nine different books, the name of whose authors happened to be

Abraham; “And Isaac entreated” (Gen. xxv. 21), is by Isaac
Satanow on the Prayers; “Then Isaac sowed” (ibid. xxvi. 12),
edited by R. Isaac Perles, contains an index to the Zohar. “Jacob
shall take root” (Is. xxvii. 6) is the name of a book on Grammar
and Massorah by R. Jacob Bassani. R. Joseph of Posen left two
collections of sermons and commentaries on the Pentateuch, of
which the one is called “And Joseph nourished” (Gen. xlvii.
12), the other “And Joseph gathered” (ibid. 14). Authors with
the name of Judah are represented among others by such titles
[276] as “And this of Judah” (Deut. xxxiii.7), a treatise on the laws
concerning the killing of animals; or “Judah shall go up” (Judges
i. 2), a pamphlet containing a collection of prayers to be said on
a journey. “Moses began” (Deut. i. 5) forms the title of three
different books on various subjects, the authors of which had
the name Moses. “Moses shall rejoice,” a phrase occurring in
the morning prayer for Sabbaths, is also the title of two books,
the authors of which were named Moses. The “Rod of Aaron”
enjoyed, as it seems, a goodly popularity; there are four bearing
this name, not to speak of a fifth, “The Rod of Aaron brought
forth buds” (Exod. xvii. 23), which is the name of a collection
of Responsa by R. Aaron ben Chayim. But other Rods also
were fashionable; there are, besides the five Rods of Moses, also
Rods of Ephraim, Dan, Judah, Joseph, Naphtali, and Manasseh.
By authors of the name of David we find books with the title
“And David said,” or a “Prayer of David,” and other phrases
occurring in the Psalms relating to David; whilst the “Tower of
David” became the stronghold of other writers, and the “Shield
of David” protected as many as nine more. The “Chariot of
Solomon” (Cant. iii. 9) adorns the title-pages of five books by
authors named Solomon. The Caraite Solomon Troki was so
fond of that title that he called his two polemical treatises “He
made himself a chariot,” while R. Solomon of Mir's collection
of sermons has the title, “This Bed which is Solomon's” (Cant.
iii. 7). As to family names, there were not many authors in the
enjoyment of that luxury (especially among the German Jews),
but we find them indicating the fact of their being Priests or
Levites. Among such books are the collection of Responsa, by R.
Raphael Cohen, which has the title “And the Priest shall come [277]
again” (Lev. xiv. 39), and the Cabbalistic treatise by R. Abraham
Cohen, of Lask, with the title “And the Priest shall reckon unto
him” (Lev. xxvii. 18). Probably the author deals with numbers.
R. Hirsch Horwitz, the Levite, called his Novellæ to the Talmud
“The Camp of Levi.” The title “The Service of the Levite” (with
allusion to Exodus xxxviii. 21) is borne by five other books by
authors who were Levites. And there may be found hundreds
of books with titles suggesting the Priestly or Levitical descent
of their authors. Most anxious is Joseph Ibn Kaspi (Joseph the
Silvern, so called after his native place Argentière, in the south of
France) to provide most of his numerous books with some Bibli-
cal titles combined with silver, as a “Bowl of Silver” (Numb. vii.
13), or “Points of Silver” (Song of Songs i. 11), or “Figures of
Silver” (Prov. xxv. 10), and other similar phrases. On the other
hand Azulai manages to indicate at least one of his three Hebrew
names, Chayim Joseph David, in most of his works, of which the
number exceeds seventy, as Chayim Shaal,235 “He asked Life”
(Ps. xxi. 4), or “The knees of Joseph” (alluding to Gen. xlviii.
12), and “Truth unto David” (Ps. cxxxii. 11).
(b) The Tabernacle with its furniture was also a great favourite
with many authors. There are not only six tabernacles (two on
Cabbalah, two on grammar, and two on Talmudical subjects),
but also three “Arks of the Testimony,” two “Altars of gold,”
two “Tables of Shewbread,” four “Candlesticks of the Light,”
two “Sockets of Silver,” and two “Pillars of Silver.” Others again
preferred the vestments of the priests as the “Plate of Judgment,”
the “Robe of the Ephod,” the “Mitre of Aaron,” the “Plate of [278]
235
.
Gold,” the “Bell and Pomegranate,” “Wreathen Chains,” and the

“Arches of Gold.” Many of these books were written by authors
claiming to be priests. (c) But besides the canonical, other cos-
tumes were also fashionable. R. Mordecai Yafeh composed ten
books, every one of them bearing the name of some garment or
apparel, as “Apparel of Royalty,” “Apparel of Blue,” “Apparel
of White,” and so the whole suit with which Mordecai went out
from the presence of the king (Esther viii. 15). These ten works
range from codifications of the law and occasional sermons to
philosophy, astronomy, and Cabbalah. By other writers we have
three “Coats of many colours” (Gen. xxxvii. 4), one “Bridal
Attire,” and the “Thread of Scarlet” is not missing. (d) The ingre-
dients for incense as well as other articles used in the Tabernacle
or in the Temple were also fancied by some authors, and we have
two books with the title of “Principal Spices,” two “Pure Myrrh,”
three “Arts of the Apothecary,” one “Oil of Holy Ointment,”
five “Meat Offerings mingled or dry,” three or four “Flour of
the Meat Offering,” and also one “Two Young Pigeons” (Bene
Yonah) by R. Jonah Zandsopher. But the appetite of the authors
did not stop at these holy things. It extended also to such lay
articles as “Spiced Wine,” “Juice of Pomegranate” (Cant. viii.
2), “Forests of Honey,” the “Book of the Apple,” and “Seven
Kinds of Drink.”
(e) Field and flock also suggested to Hebrew writers as well as
to Mr. Ruskin such titles as “The Fruit of the Hand,” the “Rose
of Sharon,” the “Lily of the Valleys,” or “The Shepherds' Tents,”
and “In the Green Pastures” (Ps. xxiii. 2).
The specimens given for every class may with very little
[279] trouble be doubled and redoubled. But it is not my intention to
reproduce here whole catalogues. Reggio thinks all such titles,
which do not correspond with the context of the book, absurd and
confusing. He suggests that the Jews followed in this respect the
Arabic writers. There is no doubt that Reggio is not altogether
wrong in his complaint. Almost all the titles included in class vi.,
as the reader might have observed, never indicate to the student

the subject of which the books treat. How can one guess that
the Responsa, the Dance of Mahanaim (two companies), is of a
polemical nature against the tendencies of reform? This list may
be lengthened by hundreds of titles. But even these incompre-
hensible titles are better than the Chad Gadyah Lo Israel (One
Kid No Israel),236 the un-Hebrew title of a pamphlet trying to
prove the un-Jewish origin of the well-known folk-song sung on
Passover Eve. But, on the other hand, it must not be overlooked
that even this class has, though not always, something suggestive
and even practical about it. The “Choice of Pearls” is undoubt-
edly more attractive than the prosaic “Collection of Proverbs
and Sayings,” which is what the book contains. “Understanding
of the Seasons” (1 Chr. xii. 32), sounds also better than the
simple “Collection of Sermons on different occasions.” “The
Lips of those who Sleep” recommends itself as a very suggestive
title for a catalogue, especially when one thinks of the Agadic
explanation given to Cant. vii. 10, according to which the study
of the book of a departed author makes the lips of the dead
man to speak. Such titles as “Bunch of Lilies” for a collection
of poems are still usual with us. Such a title as the “Jealousy
Offering,” or the “Law of Jealousies,” in polemical literature is
very appropriate for its subject. R. Jacob Emden, who named
one of his pamphlets “Rod for the fool's back” (Prov. xxvi. 3), [280]
will be envied for his choice by many a controversialist even
to-day. Wittily devised is the pun-title, “City of Sihon” for a
mathematical book by R. Joseph Tsarphathi, alluding to Numb.
xxi. 27, “For Hesbon (reckoning) is the City of Sihon.”
Other titles were probably intended more as mottoes than
titles. “Go forth and behold, ye daughters of Zion” (Cant. iii. 11),
is put in the title-page of R. Jacob's German-Jewish paraphrase
of the Pentateuch, which was written chiefly for the use of ladies.
236
.
“Let another man praise thee and not thine own mouth, a stranger
and not thine own lips” (Prov. xxvii. 2), forms the title of
a book extending over only one and a half page in quarto. It
contains letters by seven Rabbis (among them R. Liva of Prague)
recommending the Ascetic, R. Abraham Wangos, who has a
daughter to marry, and wants also to make a pilgrimage to the
Holy Land, as deserving the support of his brethren.
There is also another objection to these titles. It is that they
seem sometimes not quite consonant with our notions of modesty.
Thus we have “Desirable and Sweet” on astronomy, “Sweeter
than Honey” or “He shall comfort us,” and many others of this
kind. But it must not be thought that we have a right to infer from
the title to the author. There is, indeed, an anecdote that three
authors were rather too little careful about the choice of their
titles, namely Maimonides in calling his Code Mishneh Torah
(which is the traditional title of the Book of Deuteronomy), R.
Moses Alshech in calling his homiletical commentaries Torah of
Moses, and R. Isaiah Horwitz in calling his book Shene Luchoth
[281] ha-Berith (The Two Tables of the Covenant). These authors,
as the story goes, had for their punishment that their works are
never quoted by the titles they gave to them, the former two
being usually cited as Rambam or Alshech, whilst the last is
more known by its abbreviated title of SHeLa237 than by its full
name.
I do not remember where I have read this story, but I am
quite sure that its pious author would have been more careful
about repeating it had he known that this accusation against Mai-
monides was a favourite topic with apostates, who thought to hit
Judaism in the person of its representative Maimonides. But, as
R. Solomon Duran in his polemical work remarks, Maimonides
was too much of a truly great man to find any satisfaction in
such petty vanity. Nor do I believe that even the character of
237
. .
less-known authors can in any way be impugned by the seem-

ingly conceited titles of their books; just as on the other hand
the humility of the author is not proved by calling his book “The
Offering of the Poor,” or other modest titles. The fancy title
was in common use, and was therefore a commonplace with no
significance whatever. The real disadvantage of such titles lies in
the fact that, as already pointed out, they conceal from the student
the contents of the book which he might otherwise consult in the
course of his researches.
Did these authors perhaps foresee that there would come a
time in which index-knowledge would pass for deep scholarship?
and did they thus by using these obscure titles try to put a check
on the dabblers who speak the more of a book the less they have
read of its contents? If this be the case we can only admire their
foresight.
[282]
XII. The Child in Jewish Literature
“I saw a Jewish lady only yesterday with a child at her knee,
and from whose face towards the child there shone a sweetness
so angelical that it seemed to form a sort of glory round both.
I protest I could have knelt before her, too, and adored in her
the divine beneficence in endowing us with the maternal storgé
which began with our race and sanctifies the history of mankind.”
These words, which are taken from Thackeray's Pendennis, may
serve as a starting-point for this paper. The fact that the great stu-
dent of man perceived this glory just round the head of a Jewish
lady rouses in me the hope that the small student of letters may,
with a little search, be able to discover in the remains of our past
many similar traces of this divine beneficence and sanctifying
sentiment. Certainly the glimpses which we shall catch from the
faded leaves of ancient volumes, dating from bygone times, will
not be so bright as those which the novelist was so fortunate as to
catch from the face of a lady whom he saw but the previous day.
The mothers and fathers, about whom I am going to write in this
essay, have gone long ago, and the objects of their anxiety and
troubles have also long ago vanished. But what the subject will
lose in brightness, it may perhaps gain in reality and intensity.
[283] A few moments of enraptured devotion do not make up the
saint. It is a whole series of feelings and sentiments betrayed
on different occasions, expressed in different ways, a whole life
of sore troubles, of bitter disappointments, but also moments of
most elevated joys and real happiness.
And surely these manifestations of the divine beneficence,
which appear in their brightest glory in the literature of every
nation when dealing with the child, shine strongest in the liter-
ature of the Jewish nation. In it, to possess a child was always
XII. The Child in Jewish Literature 271
considered as the greatest blessing God could bestow on man,

and to miss it as the greatest curse. The patriarch Abraham, with
whom Israel enters into history, complains—“Oh Lord, what wilt
Thou give me, seeing I go childless!”
The Rabbis regarded the childless man as dead, whilst the
Cabbalist in the Middle Ages thought of him who died without
posterity as of one who had failed in his mission in this world,
so that he would have to appear again on our planet to fulfil this
duty. To trace out the feelings which accompanied the object of
their greatest anxiety, to let them pass before the reader in some
way approaching to a chronological order, to draw attention to
some points more worthy of being emphasised than others, is the
aim of this essay.
I said that I propose to treat the subject in chronological order.
I meant by this that I shall follow the child in the different stages
through which it has to pass from its birth until it ceases to be a
child and attains its majority. This latter period is the beginning
of the thirteenth year in the case of a female, and the beginning
of the fourteenth year in the case of a male. I shall have occasion
later on to examine this point more closely. [284]
But there is the embryo-period which forms a kind of prelim-
inary stage in the life of the child, and plays a very important
part in the region of Jewish legends. Human imagination always
occupies itself most with the things of which we know least. And
so it got hold of this semi-existence of man, the least accessible
to experience and observation, and surrounded it by a whole
cycle of legends and stories. They are too numerous to be related
here. But I shall hint at a few points which I regard as the most
conspicuous features of these legends.
These legends are chiefly based on the notion of the pre-ex-
istence of the soul on the one hand, but on the other hand they
are a vivid illustration of the saying of the Fathers, “Thou art
born against thy will.” Thus the soul, when it is brought before
the throne of God, and is commanded to enter into the body,
pleads before Him: “O Lord, till now have I been holy and pure;
bring me not into contact with what is common and unclean.”
Thereupon the soul is given to understand that it was for this
destiny alone that it was created. Another remarkable feature
is the warning given to man before his birth that he will be re-
sponsible for his actions. He is regularly sworn in. The oath has
the double purpose of impressing upon him the consciousness
of his duty to lead a holy life, and of arming him against the
danger of allowing a holy life to make him vain. As if to render
this oath more impressive, the unborn hero is provided with two
angels who, besides teaching him the whole of the Torah, take
him every morning through paradise and show him the glory of
the just ones who dwell there. In the evening he is taken to hell
[285] to witness the sufferings of the reprobate. But such a lesson
would make free will impossible. His future conduct would
only be dictated by the fear of punishment and hope of reward.
And the moral value of his actions also depends, according to
Jewish notions, upon the power to commit sin. Thus another
legend records: “When God created the world, He produced on
the second day the angels with their natural inclinations to do
good, and the absolute inability to commit sin. On the following
days again He created the beasts with their exclusively animal
desires. But He was pleased with neither of these extremes. If
the angels follow my will, said God, it is only on account of their
impotence to act in the opposite direction. I shall therefore create
man, who will be a combination of both angel and beast, so that
he will be able to follow either the good or evil inclination. His
evil deeds will place him beneath the level of animals, whilst his
noble aspirations will enable him to obtain a higher position than
angels.” Care is therefore taken to make the child forget all it has
seen and heard in these upper regions. Before it enters the world
an angel strikes it on the upper lip, and all his knowledge and
wisdom disappear at once. The pit in the upper lip is a result of
this stroke, which is also the cause why children cry when they
are born.
As to the origin of these legends, the main features of which are
already to be found in the Talmud, I must refer the reader to the
researches of Löw and others.238 Here we have only to watch the
effect which these legends had upon the minds of Jewish parents.
The newly born child was in consequence looked upon by them
as a higher being, which, but a few seconds before, had been
conversing with angels and saints, and had now condescended [286]
into our profane world to make two ordinary mortals happy. The
treatment which the child experienced from its parents, as well as
from the whole of the community, was therefore a combination
of love and veneration. One may go even further and say that the
belief in these legends determines greatly the destination of the
child. What other destination could a being of such a glorious
past have than to be what an old German Jewish poem expressed
in the following lines:—
Geboren soll es wehren

Zu Gottes Ehren.
“The child should be born to the honour of God.” The mission

of the child is to glorify the name of God on earth. And the whole
bringing up of the child in the old Jewish communities was more
or less calculated to this end. The words of the Bible, “And
ye shall be unto me a kingdom of priests,” were taken literally.
Every man felt it his duty to bring up his children, or at least one
member of his family, for this calling. How they carried out this
programme we shall see later on.
238
The main authorities on the subjects of this essay are Die Lebensalter, by
Dr. Leopold Löw; The Jewish Rite of Circumcision, by Dr. Asher; an article
by Dr. Perles in the Graetz Jubelschrift, p. 23 seq.; Merkwürdigkeiten der
Juden, by Schudt; the and other works on ritual
customs; Güdemann's Geschichte des Erziehungswesens und der Cultur der
Juden; and Das Kind in Brauch und Sitte der Völker, by Dr. Ploss.
Now, regarding almost every infant as a predestined priest,

and thinking of it as having received a certain preparation for
this calling before it came into this world, we cannot wonder that
the child was supposed to show signs of piety from the days of
its earliest existence, and even earlier. Thus we read that even
the unborn children joined in with the chorus on the Red Sea and
sang the Song (of Moses). David, again, composed Psalms before
perceiving the face of this world. On the Day of Atonement they
[287] used to communicate to the unborn child, through the medium
of its mother, that on this great day it had to be satisfied with the
good it had received the day before. And when a certain child,
afterwards named Shabbethai, refused to listen to such a request,
R. Johanan applied to it the verse from the Psalm, “The wicked
are estranged from the womb.” Indeed, Shabbethai turned out
a great sinner. It will perhaps be interesting to hear what his
sin was. It consisted in forestalling the corn in the market and
afterwards selling it to the poor at a much higher price. Of a
certain child the legend tells that it was born with the word emeth
(truth) engraved on its fore-head. Its parents named it Amiti,239
and the child proved to be a great saint.
The priest, however, could not enter into his office without
some consecration. As the first step in this consecration of the
child we may consider the Covenant of Abraham. But this was
prefaced by a few other solemn acts which I must mention. One
of the oldest ceremonies connected with the birth of a child was
that of tree-planting. In the case of a boy they planted a cedar, in
that of a girl a pine; and on their marriage they cut branches from
these trees to form the wedding-canopy. Other rites followed,
but they were more of a medical character, and would be better
appreciated by the physician. In the Middle Ages superstition
played a great part. To be sure, I have spoken of saints; but we
ought not to forget that saints, too, have their foolish moments,
239
, .
especially when they are fighting against hosts of demons, the

existence of which is only guaranteed by their own over-excited
brains. Jewish parents were for many centuries troubled by
the fear of Lilith,240 the devil's mother, who was suspected of
stealing children and killing them. The precautions they took to [288]
prevent this atrocity were as foolish as the object of their fear.
I do not intend to enumerate here all these various precautions.
Every country almost has its own usages and charms, one more
absurd than the other. It will suffice to refer here to the most
popular of these charms, in which certain angels are invoked
to protect the child against its dangerous enemy Lilith. But of
whatever origin they may be, Judaism could do better without
them. The only excuse for their existence among us is to my
mind that they provoked the famous Dr. Erter to the composition
of one of the finest satires in the Hebrew language.
Of a less revolting character was the so-called ceremony of
the “Reading of the Shema.”241 It consisted in taking all the
little children of the community into the house of the newly-born
child, where the teacher made them read the Shema, sometimes
also the ninety-first Psalm. The fact that little children were
the chief actors in this ceremony reconciles one a little to it
despite its rather doubtful origin. In some communities these
readings took place every evening up to the day when the child
was brought into the covenant of Abraham. In other places
they performed the ceremony only on the eve of the day of the
Berith Milah242 (Ceremony of the Circumcision). Indeed, this
was the night during which Lilith was supposed to play her worst
tricks, and the watch over the child was redoubled. Hence the
name “Wachnacht,” or the “Night of Watching.” They remained
240
, Is. xxxiv. 14.
241
See above, note 39 to Nachmanides. [Transcriber's Note: The footnote on
Shema.]
242
, “Covenant of Circumcision.” This is the usual expres-
sion in Hebrew literature for the rite of circumcision.
awake for the whole night, and spent it in feasting and in studying
certain portions of the Bible and the Talmud, mostly relating to
the event which was to take place on the following day. This
[289] ceremony was already known to Jewish writers of the thirteenth
century. Nevertheless, it is considered by the best authorities
on the subject to be of foreign origin. Quite Jewish, as well as
entirely free from superstitious taint, was the visit which was
paid to the infant-boy on the first Sabbath of his existence. It
was called “Shalom Zachar,”243 probably meaning “Peace-boy,”
in allusion to a well-known passage in the Talmud to the effect
that the advent of a boy in the family brings peace to the world.
At last the dawn of the great day of the Berith came. I shall,
however, only touch here on the social aspects of this rite.
Its popularity began, as it seems, in very early times. The
persecutions which Israel suffered for it in the times of Antiochus
Epiphanes, “when the princes and elders mourned, the virgins
and the young men were made feeble, and the beauty of women
was changed, and when certain women were put to death for
causing their children to be circumcised,” are the best proof
of the attachment of the people to it. The repeated attempts
against this law, both by heathen and by Christian hands, only
served to increase its popularity. Indeed R. Simeon ben Eleazar
characterised it as the law for which Israel brought the sacrifice
of martyrdom, and therefore held firmly by it. In other words
they suffered for it, and it became endeared to them. R. Simeon
ben Gamaliel declares it to be the only law which Israel fulfils
with joy and exultation. As a sign of this joy we may regard
the eagerness and the lively interest which raised this ceremony
from a strictly family affair to a matter in which the whole of the
community participated. Thus we find that already in the times of
[290] the Gaonim the ceremony was transferred from the house of the
parents to the synagogue. Here it took place after the prayers, in
243
.
the presence of the whole congregation. The synagogue used to

be specially illuminated in honour of the event. Certain pieces of
the daily prayer, of a rather doleful nature, such as the confession
of sins, were omitted, lest the harmony of the festival should
be disturbed. As a substitute for these prayers, various hymns
suitable for the occasion were composed and inserted in the
liturgy for the day. As the most prominent members among those
present figured the happy father of the child and the medical
man who performed the ceremony, usually called the Mohel or
Gozer,244 both wearing their festal garments and having certain
privileges, such as being called up to the Reading of the Law and
chanting certain portions of the prayers. It is not before the tenth
century that a third member suddenly emerges to become almost
as important as the father of the child. I refer to the Sandek or
Godfather. In some countries he was also called the Baal Berith
(Master of the Covenant). In Italy they seemed to have had two
Sandeks. This word was for a long time supposed to be the Greek
word Ã{½´¹º¿Â. But it is now proved beyond doubt that it is a
corruption of the word Ã{½Äµº½¿Â used in the Greek church for
godfather. In the church he was the man who lifted the neophyte
from the baptismal waters. Among the Jews, the office of the
Sandek was to keep the child on his knees during the performance
of the rite. The Sandek's place was, or is still, near the seat of
honour, which is called the Throne of Elijah, who is supposed to
be the angel of the covenant. Other angels, too, were believed to
officiate at this rite. Thus the angel Gabriel is also said to have [291]
performed the office of Sandek to a certain child. According to
other sources the archangel Metatron himself attended. Probably
it was on this account that later Rabbis admonished the parents
to take only a pious and good Jew as Sandek for their children.
Christian theologians also declared that no good Christian must
render such a service to a Jew. The famous Buxtorf had to pay
244
, .
a fine of 100 florins for having attended the Berith of a child,

whose father he had employed as reader when editing the well-
known Basel Bible. The poor reader himself, who was the cause
of Buxtorf's offence, was fined 400 florins. Of an opposite case
in which a Jew served as godfather to a Christian child, we find a
detailed account in Schudt's Merkwürdigkeiten der Juden, a very
learned and very foolish book. When the father was summoned
before the magistrate, and was asked how he dared to charge a
Jew with such a holy Christian ceremony, he coolly answered,
because he knew that the Jew would present him with a silver
cup. As to the present, I have to remark that with the Jews also
the godfather was expected to bestow a gift on the child. In some
communities he had to defray the expenses of the festival-dinner,
of which I shall speak presently. In others, again, he had also to
give a present to the mother of the child.
Much older than the institution of the Sandek is the festi-
val-dinner just alluded to, which was held after the ceremony.
Jewish legend supplies many particulars of the dinner the pa-
triarch Abraham gave at the Berith of his son Isaac. This is a
little too legendary, but there is ample historical evidence that
such meals were already customary in the times of the Second
[292] Temple. The Talmud of Jerusalem gives us a detailed account of
the proceedings which took place at the Berith dinner of Elisha
ben Abuyah, who afterwards obtained a sad celebrity as Acher.
Considering that Elisha's birth must have fallen within the first
decades after the destruction of the Temple, and that these sad
times were most unsuitable for introducing new festivals, we may
safely date the custom back to the times of the Temple. The way
in which the guests entertained themselves is also to be gathered
from the passage referred to. First came the dinner, in which all
the guests participated; afterwards the great men of Jerusalem
occupied one room, indulging there in singing, hand clapping,
and dancing. The scholars again, who apparently did not belong
to the great men, were confined to another room, where they
employed themselves in discussing biblical subjects. In later

times special hymns, composed for this festival, were inserted in
the grace after dinner. After the dinner, sermons or speeches used
also to be given, the contents of which were usually made up of
reflections on biblical and Talmudical passages relating to the
event of the day. Sometimes they consisted of a kind of learned
puns on the name which the child received on this occasion.
With this meal the first consecration of the child-priest was
concluded. In some places they used to come to the father's
house on the third day after the circumcision with the purpose
of making inquiries after the child's health. In the case when the
child was the first-born the ceremony of “redeeming the child”245
in accordance with Exodus xiii. used to take place. The details of
this ceremony are to be found in almost every prayer-book, and
there is nothing fresh to add. But perhaps I may be allowed to
draw attention to another distinction that the first-born received [293]
in the Middle Ages. I refer to an account given by the author of
the book, The Ordinance of the Law,246 who flourished in the
thirteenth century. He says: Our predecessors made the rule to
destine every first-born to God, and before its birth the father
had to say, “I take the vow that if my wife presents me with a
son, he shall be holy unto the Lord, and in His Torah he shall
meditate day and night.” On the eighth day after the Berith Milah
they put the child on cushions, and a Bible on its head, and the
elders of the community, or the principal of the college, imparted
their blessings to it. These first-born sons formed, when grown
up, the chief contingent of the Yeshiboth (Talmudical Colleges),
where they devoted the greatest part of their lives to the study of
the Torah. In later centuries the vow was dropped, but from the
abundance of the Yeshiboth in Poland and elsewhere it seems as
if almost every child was considered as having no other calling
245
.
246
, on educational matters.
but the study of the Torah. Indeed, the growing persecutions

required a strengthening of the religious force.
With these ceremonies the first act of consecration ended in
the case where the new-born child was a boy. I will now refer
to the ceremony of the name-giving, which was common to
males and females. In the case of the former this ceremony was
connected with the Berith Milah. The oldest formula, which is
already to be found in the Ritual Rab Amram Gaon, is composed
in Aramaic. It is, like many prayers in that language, a most
beautiful composition, and very suitable for the occasion. Our
present Hebrew prayer is far less beautiful, and dates from a
[294] much later age. In some countries the ceremony of naming
was repeated in the house of the parents. It took place on the
Sabbath, when the mother returned home from her first visit to
the synagogue after her recovery. Here the friends and relatives
of the family assembled, and after arranging themselves round
the cradle of the child they lifted it three times, shouting the new
name at every lifting. This name was the so-called “profane”
name, whilst the name it received in the synagogue was the
“sacred” or Hebrew name. The ceremony concluded with the
usual festival-dinner. By the way, there was perhaps a little too
much feasting in those days. The contemporary Rabbis tried
indeed to suppress some of the banquets, and put all sorts of
restrictions on dinner-hunting people. But considering the fact
that, as Jews, they were excluded from every public amusement,
we cannot grudge them the pleasure they drew from these se-
mi-religious celebrations. For people of an ascetic disposition it
was, perhaps, the only opportunity of enjoying a proper meal. In
the same way, in our days, the most severe father would not deny
his lively daughter the pleasure of dancing or singing charitably
for the benefit of suffering humanity. The ceremony described
was known to the authors of the Middle Ages by the name of
Holle Kreish. These words are proved by Dr. Perles to be of
German origin, and based on some Teutonic superstition into the
explanation of which I cannot enter here.

Of much more importance was the ceremony of name-giving
in the case of a girl, it being the only attention the female child
received from the synagogue. The usages varied. In some
countries the name was given on the first Sabbath after the birth
of the child. The father was “called up to the Reading of the
Law,” on which followed the formula, “He who blessed our [295]
ancestors Abraham,” etc., “may He also bless,” etc., including
the blessing and announcement of the child's name. After the
prayer the congregation assembled in the house of the parents to
congratulate them. In other countries the ceremony took place
on the Sabbath when the mother attended the synagogue after
the recovery. The ceremony of Holle Kreish seems to have been
especially observed in the case of a girl.
Though the feasting was now over for the parents, the child
still lived in a holiday atmosphere for a long time. In the legend
of the “Ages of Man” the child is described in the first year of
its existence as a little prince, adored and petted by all. The
mother herself nourished and tended the child. Although the
Bible already speaks of nurses, many passages in the later Jewish
literature show a strong aversion to these substitutes for the
mother. In the event of the father of the child dying, the mother
was forbidden to marry before her suckling infant reached the
age of two years, lest a new courtship might lead to the neglect
of the child.
More difficult is it to say wherein the other signs of loyalty
to the little prince consisted; as, for instance, whether Jews
possessed anything like lullabies to soothe the little prince into
happy and sweet slumber. At least I am not aware of the ex-
istence of such songs in the ancient Jewish literature, nor are
they quoted by mediæval writers. The “Schlummerlied,” by
an unknown Jewish bard, about which German scholars wrote
so much, contains more heathen than Jewish elements. From
the protest in The Book of the Pious, against using non-Jewish
[296] cradle-songs, it seems that little Moshechen was lulled to sleep

by the same tunes and words as little Johnny. The only Jewish
lullaby of which I know, is to be found in the work of a modern
writer who lived in Russia. How far its popularity goes in that
country I have no means of ascertaining. This jingle runs as
follows:—
O! hush thee, my darling, sleep soundly my son,

Sleep soundly and sweetly till day has begun;
For under the bed of good children at night
There lies, till the morning, a kid snowy white.
We'll send it to market to buy Sechora,247
While my little lad goes to study Torah.
Sleep soundly at night and learn Torah by day,
Then thou'lt be a Rabbi when I have grown gray.
But I'll give thee to-morrow ripe nuts and a toy,
If thou'lt sleep as I bid thee, my own little boy.248
But naturally the holiday atmosphere I spoke of was very

often darkened by clouds resulting from the illness of the child.
Excepting small-pox, the child was subject to most of those dis-
eases which so often prove fatal to our children. These diseases
were known under the collective name of “the difficulties (or
the pain) of bringing up children.” These difficulties seem to
have been still greater in Palestine, where one of the old Rabbis
exclaimed that it was easier to see a whole forest of young olive
trees grow up than to rear one child.249 To avoid so mournful a
subject, I refrain from repeating the touching stories relating to
the death of children. The pain was the more keenly felt since
there was no other way of explaining the misfortune which befell
the innocent creature than that it had suffered for the sins of the
247
, “business,” or “wares.”
248
I am indebted for the English adaptation to Mrs. Henry Lucas.
249
Bereshith Rabbah, chapter xx. For another reading see
(ed. Cracow), p. 374.
parents; and the only comfort the latter had was that the child [297]
could not have lost much by its being removed from this vale
of tears at such an early period. A remarkable legend describes
God Himself as giving lessons so many hours a day to these
prematurely deceased children.250 Indeed, to the mind of the old
Rabbis, the only thing worth living for was the study of the Law.
Consequently the child that suffered innocently could not have a
better compensation than to learn Torah from the mouth of the
Master of masters.
But even when the child was healthy, and food and climate
proved congenial to its constitution, there still remained the trou-
bles of its spiritual education. And to be sure it was not an easy
matter to bring up a “priest.” The first condition for this calling
was learning. But learning cannot be acquired without honest and
hard industry. It is true that R. Akiba numbers wisdom among
the virtues which are hereditary from father to son. Experience,
however, has shown that it is seldom the case, and the Rabbis
were already troubled with the question how it happens that
children so little resemble their fathers in respect of learning.
Certainly Jewish legends can boast of a whole series of prodi-
gies. Thus a certain Rabbi is said to have been so sharp as to have
had a clear recollection of the mid-wife who made him a citizen
of this world. Ben Sira again, instantly after his birth, entertains
his terrified mother with many a wise and foolish saying, refuses
the milk she offers him, and asks for solid food. A certain Nach-
man was born with a prophecy on his lips, predicting the fate of
all nations on earth, as well as fixing the date for the advent of the
Messiah. The youngest of seven sons of Hannah, who became
martyrs under the reign of Antiochus Epiphanes, was according [298]
to one version aged two years, six months, six hours, and thirty
minutes. But the way in which he defied the threats of the tyrant
was really worthy of one of seventy. R. Judah de Modena is said
250
Abodah Zarah, 3b.
to have read the lesson from the prophets in the synagogue at the
age of two years and a half. A famous Cabbalist, Nahum, at the
age of three, gave a lecture on the decalogue that lasted for three
days. The Chassidim pretended of one of their Zaddikim that he
remembered all that he had been taught by the angels before his
birth, and thus excused their Zaddik's utter neglect of studying
anything. Perhaps I may mention in this place a sentence from
Schudt, which may reconcile one to the harmless exaggerations
of the Chassidim. It relates to a case where a Jewish girl of six
was taken away by a Christian with the intention of baptising her,
for he maintained that this was the wish and pleasure of the child.
Probably the little girl received her instruction from the Christian
servant of the house, as has happened many times. Schudt proves
that this wish ought to be granted in spite of the minority of the
child. He argues: As there is a maxim, “What is wanting in years
may be supplied by wickedness,” why could not also the reverse
be true that “What is wanting in years can be supplied by grace”?
Of a certain R. Meshullam, again, we know that he preached in
the synagogue at Brody, at the age of nine, and perplexed the
chief Rabbi of the place by his deep Talmudical learning. As the
Rabbi had a daughter of seven, the cleverness exhibited by the
boy Rabbi did not end without very serious consequences for all
his life.
Happily all these prodigies or children of grace are only ex-
[299] ceptional. I say happily, for the Rabbis themselves disliked
such creatures. They were more satisfied with those signs of
intelligence that indicate future greatness. The following story
may serve as an instance:—R. Joshua ben Hananiah once made
a journey to Rome. Here he was told that amongst the captives
from Jerusalem there was a child with bright eyes, its hair in
ringlets, and its features strikingly beautiful. The Rabbi made
up his mind to redeem the boy. He went to the prison and ad-
dressed the child with a verse from Isaiah, “Who gave Jacob for
a spoil and Israel to the robbers?” On this the child answered by
continuing the second half of the same verse, “Did not the Lord,
He against whom we have sinned? For they would not walk in
His ways, neither were they obedient unto His law” (Isaiah xlii.
24). The Rabbi was so delighted with this answer, that he said:
“I am sure he will grow up to be a teacher in Israel. I take an
oath to redeem him, cost what it may.” The child was afterwards
known under the name of R. Ishmael ben Elisha. Such children
were ideals of the Rabbis, but they hated the baby scholar, who
very often grew impertinent and abused his elders. The Rabbis
much preferred the majority of those tiny creatures, who are
characterised by the already mentioned legends on the “Ages of
Men” as little animals playing, laughing, crying, dancing, and
committing all sorts of mischief.
But these children must be taught. Now, there is the well-
known advice of Judah ben Tema, who used to say that the child
at five years was to be taught Scripture, at ten years Mishnah,
at thirteen to fulfil the Law, etc. This saying, incorporated in
most editions in the fifth Chapter of the Sayings of the Fathers,
is usually considered as the programme of Jewish education. [300]
But, like so many programmes, this tells us rather how things
ought to have been than how they were. In the times of the
Temple, the participation of the youth in religious actions began
at the tenderest age. As soon as they were able to walk a cer-
tain distance with the support of their parents, the children had
to accompany them on their pilgrimages to Jerusalem. In the
Sabbatical year they were brought to the Temple, to be present
at the reading of Deuteronomy by the king.251 The period at
which the child's allegiance to the Synagogue began is still more
distinctly described. Of the many Talmudical passages relating
to this question, I shall select the following quotation from a later
Midrash, because it is the most concise. In allusion to Leviticus
xix. 23, 24, concerning the prohibition of eating the fruits of a
251
This is the way in which Deut. xxxi. 10-12 was explained.
tree in the first three years, this Midrash goes on to say: “And
this is also the case with the Jewish child. In the first three years
the child is unable to speak, and therefore is exempted from
every religious duty, but in the fourth year all its fruits shall be
holy to praise the Lord, and the father is obliged to initiate the
child in religious works.” Accordingly the religious life of the
child began as soon as it was able to speak distinctly, or with
the fourth year of its life. As to the character of this initiation
we learn from the same Midrash and also from other Talmudical
passages, that it consisted in teaching the child the verses, “Hear,
O Israel: the Lord our God is One” (Deut. vi. 4), and “Moses
commanded us a Torah, the inheritance of the congregation of
Jacob” (Deut. xxxiii. 4). It was also in this year that the boys be-
[301] gan to accompany their parents to the synagogue, carrying their
prayer-books. At what age the girls first came out—not for their
first party, but with the purpose of going to the synagogue—is
difficult to decide with any degree of certainty. But if we were
to trust a rather doubtful reading in Tractate Sopherim,252 we
might maintain that their first appearance in the synagogue was
also at a very tender age. I hope that they behaved there more
respectfully than their brothers, who played and cried instead of
joining in the responses and singing with the congregation. In
some communities they proved so great a nuisance that a certain
Rabbi declared it would be better to leave them at home rather
than to have the devotion of the whole congregation disturbed
by these urchins. Another Rabbi recommended the praiseworthy
custom of the Sephardim,253 who confined all the boys in the
synagogue to one place, and set a special overseer by their side,
with a whip in his hands, to compel them to keep quiet and to
worship with due devotion.
A strange custom is known among the Arabian and Palestinian
252
, “Scribes”; treating of the regulations concerning the writing
of the Law, but containing also much liturgical matter.
253
, by which name the Jews of the Spanish rite are designated.
Jews under the name of Chalaka. It means the first hair-cutting

of the boy after his fourth birthday. As on this occasion loyalty to
the Scripture is shown by not touching the “corners” (Lev. xix.
17), the whole action is considered a religious ceremony of great
importance. In Palestine it usually takes place on the second day
of the Feast of the Passover when the counting of the seven weeks
begins. On this day friends and relatives assemble at the house
of the parents. Thither the boy is brought, dressed in his best gar-
ments, and every one of the assembly is entrusted with the duty
of cutting a few hairs, which is considered a great privilege. The
ceremony is as usual followed by a dinner given to the guests.
The Jews in Safed and Tiberias perform the ceremony with great [302]
pomp in the courtyard surrounding the (supposed) grave of R.
Simeon ben Yochai, in one of the neighbouring villages.
Another custom already mentioned in the Talmud, but which
quite disappeared in later times, is that of weighing the child. It
would be worth reviving if performed in the way in which the
mother of Doeg ben Joseph did it. This tender-hearted mother
weighed her only son every day, and distributed among the poor,
in gold, the amount of the increased weight of her child.
I pass now to the second great consecration of the boy,—the
rites performed on the day when the boy went to school for the
first time. This day was celebrated by the Jews, especially in the
Middle Ages, in such a way as to justify the high esteem in which
they held the school. The school was looked upon as a second
Mount Sinai, and the day on which the child entered it as the Feast
of Revelation. Of the many different customs, I shall mention
here that according to which this day was fixed for the Feast of
Weeks. Early in the morning, while it was still dark, the child
was washed and dressed carefully. In some places they dressed
it in a “gown with fringes.” As soon as day dawned the boy was
taken to the synagogue, either by his father or by some worthy
member of the community. Arrived at their destination, the boy
was put on the Almemor, or reading-dais, before the Scroll of
the Law, from which the narrative of the Revelation (Exod. xx.
2-26) was read as the portion of the day. From the synagogue
the boy was taken to the house of the teacher, who took him into
his arms. Thereupon a slate was brought, containing the alphabet
[303] in various combinations, the verse, “Moses has commanded,”
etc. in Deut. xxxiii. 4, the first verse of the Book of Leviticus,
and the words, “The Torah will be my calling.” The teacher then
read the names of the letters, which the boy repeated. After
the reading, the slate was besmeared with honey, which the boy
licked off. This was done in allusion to Ezekiel iii. 3, where it is
said: “And it (the roll) was in my mouth as honey for sweetness.”
The boy was also made to eat a sweet cake, on which were
written passages from the Bible relating to the importance of the
study of the Torah. The ceremony was concluded by invoking
the names of certain angels, asking them to open the heart of
the boy, and to strengthen his memory. By the way, I am very
much afraid that this invocation was answerable for the abolition
of this ceremony. The year in which this ceremony took place
is uncertain, probably not before the fifth, nor later than the
seventh, according to the good or bad health of the child.
The reverence for the child already hinted at was still further
increased when the boy entered the school. “The children of
the house (school) of the master” is a regular phrase in Jewish
literature. It is on their pure breath that the existence of the world
depends, and it is their merit that justifies us in appealing to the
mercy of God. Words of Scripture, uttered by them quite inno-
cently, were considered as oracles; and many a Rabbi gave up an
undertaking on account of a verse pronounced by a schoolboy,
who hardly understood its import. Take only one instance: R.
Johanan was longing to see his friend Mar Samuel in Babylon.
After many disturbances and delays, he at last undertook the
journey. On the way he passed a school where the boys were
[304] reciting the verse from 1 Samuel xxviii. 3, “And Samuel died.”
This was accepted by him as a hint given by Providence that all
was over with his friend.

Especially famous for their wisdom and sharpness were the
children of Jerusalem. Of the many illustrative stories given in
the Midrash to Lamentations, let the following suffice: R. Joshua
was one day riding on his donkey along the high road. As he
passed a well, he saw a little girl there, and asked her to give
him some water. She accordingly gave water to him and to his
animal. The Rabbi thanked her with the words: “My daughter,
you acted like Rebecca.” “To be sure,” she answered, “I acted
like Rebecca; but you did not behave like Eleazar.” I must add
that there are passages in Jewish literature from which, with a
little ingenuity, it might be deduced that Jewish babies are the
most beautiful of their kind. The assertion made by a monk that
Jewish children are inferior to Christian children is a dreadful
libel. The author of the Old Victory,254 in whose presence this
assertion was made, was probably childless, or he would have
simply scratched out the eyes of this malicious monk, instead
of giving a mystical reason for the superior beauty of any other
children than his own.
Another point to be emphasised is that the boys were not
confined all day long to the close air of the schoolroom. They
had also their hours of recreation. This recreation consisted
chiefly, as one can imagine, in playing. Their favourite game
was the ball, boys as well as girls being fond of this form of
amusement. They did not deny themselves this pleasure even
on festivals. They were also fond of the kite and games with
nuts, in which their mothers also took part. Letter-games and [305]
riddles also occupied their minds in the recreation hours. The
angel Sandalphon,255 who also bears in the Cabbalah the name
of “Boy,” was considered by the children as their special patron,
254
, a controversial work published by Wagenseil. See
above, p. 203, for another victory.
255
, who is probably known to the English reader from
Longfellow's poem.
and they invoked him in their plays, addressing to him the words:
“Sandalphon, Lord of the forest, protect us from pain.” Speaking
generally, there are very few distinctively Jewish games. From
the researches of Zunz, Güdemann, and Löw on this subject, it
is clear that the Jews always adopted the pastimes of the peoples
among whom they dwelt.
But it must not be thought that there was too much playing.
Altogether, Jewish education was far from spoiling the children.
And though it was recommended—if such recommendation were
necessary—to love children more than one's own soul, the Rab-
bis strongly condemned that blind partiality towards our own
offspring, which ends in burdening our world with so many
good-for-nothings. The sad experience of certain biblical per-
sonages served as a warning for posterity. Even from the quite
natural behaviour of Jacob towards his son Joseph, which had the
best possible results in the end, they drew the lesson that a man
must never show to one of his children marks of greater favour
than to the others. In later times they have been even anxious
to conceal this love altogether, and some Rabbis went so far as
to refrain from kissing their children. The severity of Akabya
ben Mahalaleel is worth mentioning, if not imitating. When this
Rabbi, only a few minutes before his death, was asked by his son
to recommend him to his friends and colleagues, the answer the
poor boy received was: “Thy conduct will recommend thee to my
friends, or will estrange thee from them.” Another Rabbi declared
[306] (with reference to Prov. xxviii. 27) that it is life-giving to a youth
to teach him temperance in his diet, and not to accustom him to
meat and wine. R. Judah, the Pious, in the Middle Ages, gives the
advice to rich parents to withdraw their resources from their sons
if they lead a disorderly life. The struggle for their existence,
and the hardship of life, would bring them back to God. When
the old Rabbi said that poverty is a most becoming ornament for
Israel, his remark was probably suggested by a similar thought.
And many a passage in the Rabbinic literature gives expression
to the same idea as that in Goethe's divine lines:—
Wer nie sein Brot mit Thränen ass,

Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend sass,
Der kennt Euch nicht, Ihr himmlischen Mächte.
I have spoken of a kingdom of priests, but there is one great

disadvantage of such a polity. One or two priests in a community
may be sustained by the liberality of the congregation. But if
a community consisted of only priests, how could it then be
maintained? Besides, the old Jewish ideal expected the teacher
to be possessed of a divine goodness, imparting his benefits
only as an act of grace. Salaries, therefore, either for teaching or
preaching, or for giving ritual decisions, were strongly forbidden.
The solution of the question put by the Bible, “And if ye shall
say, What shall we eat?” is to be found in the law that every
father was obliged to teach his son a handicraft, enabling him to
obtain a living.
I have now to speak of the time when childhood is brought
to a conclusion. It is, as I stated above, in the case of a girl at
the beginning of the thirteenth year, and in that of a boy at the [307]
beginning of the fourteenth year. As a reason for this priority
I will reproduce the words of R. Chisda, who said that God
has endowed woman with a greater portion of intelligence than
man, and therefore she obtains her maturity at an earlier period
than man does. A very nice compliment, indeed; but like all
compliments it is of no practical consequence whatever. It is not
always the wiser who get the best of it in life. Whilst the day on
which the girl obtained her majority passed unnoticed either by
her or by her family, it was marked in the case of the boy as the
day on which he became a Son of the Law,256 and was signalised
by various rites and ceremonies, and by the bestowing on him of
256
.
beautiful presents. I miss only the wig, which used to form the
chief ornament of the boy on this happy day.
Less known, however, is the origin of this ceremony, and the
reason for fixing its date. It cannot claim a very high antiquity.
I may remark that in many cases centuries elapse before an idea
or a notion takes practical shape and is crystallised into a custom
or usage, and still longer before this custom is fossilised into a
law or fixed institution. As far as the Bible goes, there is not the
slightest indication of the existence of such a ceremony. From
Lev. xxvii. 5, and Num. xiv. 29, it would rather seem that it was
not before the twentieth year that the man was considered to have
obtained his majority, and to be responsible for his actions. It was
only in the times of the Rabbis, when Roman influence became
prevalent in juristic matters at least, that the date of thirteen, or
rather the pubertas, was fixed as giving the boy his majority. But
it would be a mistake to think that before having obtained this
[308] majority the boy was considered as under age in every respect.
Certainly the law made every possible effort to connect him with
the synagogue, and to initiate him in his religious duties long
before the age of thirteen.
We have seen that the boy's first appearance in the synagogue
was at the beginning of the fourth year. We have noticed the
complaints about his troublesome behaviour. But how could
we expect the poor child to be attentive to things which quite
surpassed the intellectual powers of his tender age? There was
no better reason for this attendance either in the Temple or in
the synagogue than that the parents might be rewarded by God
for the trouble of taking their children there. These cares, by
the way, fell most heavily upon the women. The mother of R.
Joshua enjoyed this burden so much that she carried her boy,
when still in the cradle, to the “House of Study of the Law,”
in order that his ears might be accustomed to the sound of the
Torah. In later times there was another excuse for taking the
little children to the synagogue. They were there allowed to sip
the wine of the Sanctification Cup,257 which was the exclusive

privilege of the children; an easy way of worshipping, but, as you
can observe, it is a method that they enjoy and understand most
excellently. They did not less enjoy and understand the service
with which they were charged on the day of “The Rejoicing of
the Law.”258 On this feast they were provided with flags, which
they carried before the bearers of the Torah, who feasted them
after the service with sweets. Another treat was that of being
called up on this day to the Torah, a custom that is still extant. In
the Middle Ages they went in some countries so far as to allow
these little fellows who did not wear caps “to be called up” to
say the blessings over the Law bare-headed. A beautiful custom
was that every Sabbath, after finishing the weekly lesson and [309]
dressing the Scroll of the Law, the children used to come up to the
Almemor and kiss the Torah. Leaving the synagogue they kissed
the hands of the scholars. At home the initiation began with
the blessing the child received on every eve of the Sabbath, and
with its instruction in “Hear O Israel” and other verses as already
mentioned. Short prayers, consisting of a single sentence, were
also chosen for children of this age. The function of the child
on the eve of the first day of Passover is well known. Besides
the putting of the four questions for the meaning of the strange
ceremony (Exod. xiii. 14), the boy had also to recite, or rather to
sing, the “Praise.”259 But I am afraid that they enjoyed better the
song of “One Kid,” which was composed or rather adapted for
their special entertainment from an old German poem.
Within three or four years after entering the synagogue, and
with the growth of intellect and strength, the religious duties
of the boy increased, and became of a more serious character.
257
, “Sanctification”—“benediction”—on the eve of Sabbath,
which is pronounced over a cup of wine.
258
, or on the 23rd of Tishri, when the last portion from
the Pentateuch is read.
259
, “Praise,” i.e. Ps. cxiii.-cxviii.
He had not only to attend the school, which was troublesome

enough, but he was also expected to attend the services more
regularly, and to gain something by it. Yet the Rabbis were
not so tyrannical as to put unjust demands on the patience of
the child. The voice of God on Mount Sinai, the Rabbis said,
was adapted to the intellect and powers of all who witnessed the
Revelation—adapted, as the Midrash says, to the powers of old
and young, children and women. It was in accordance with this
sentiment that the Rabbis suited their language to the needs of the
less educated classes. Thus we read in the Tractate Sopherim that
[310] according to the law the portion of the week, after having been
recited in Hebrew, must be translated into the language of the
vernacular for the benefit of the unlearned people, the women,
and the children. Another consideration children experienced
from the Rabbis was that at the age of nine or ten the boy was
initiated into the observance of the Day of Atonement by fasting
a few hours. Lest, however, this good work might be overdone,
and thus endanger the child's health, the sage R. Acha used to
tell his congregation after the Addition-Prayer “My brethren, let
every one of you who has a child go home and make it eat.” In
later centuries, when the disease of small-pox became so fatal,
some Rabbis declared it to be the duty of every father to leave
the town with his children as soon as the plague showed itself.
The joy with which the Rabbis hailed Dr. Jenner's discovery
deserves our recognition. None of them perceived in vaccination
a defiance of Providence. R. Abraham Nansich, from London,
wrote a pamphlet to prove its lawfulness. The Cabbalist Buzagli
disputed Dr. Jenner's priority, but nevertheless approved of vac-
cination. R. Israel Lipschütz declared that the Doctor acquired
salvation by his new remedy.
With his advancing age, not only the boy's duties but also his
rights were increased. An enumeration of all these rights would
lead me too far, but I shall mention the custom which allowed
the boy the recital of “Magnified”260 and “Bless ye”261 in the

synagogue. Now this privilege is restricted to the orphan boy.
It is interesting to hear that girls were also admitted to recite
the Magnified in the synagogue, in cases where their parents left
no male issue. I have myself witnessed such a case. In some
countries the boy had the exclusive privilege of reading the [311]
prayers on the evenings of the festivals and Sabbaths. R. Samson
ben Eleazar, in the fifteenth century, received his family name
Baruch Sheamar262 from the skill with which he recited this
prayer when a boy. He chanted it so well that he was called by
the members of the community Master Baruch Sheamar. As to
the question whether the boy, while under age, might lawfully be
considered as one of the Ten when such a quorum was required,
or one of the three in the case of grace after meals, I can only
say that the authorities never agreed in this respect. Whilst the
one insisted upon his having obtained his majority, the other was
satisfied with his showing such signs of intelligence as would
enable him to participate in the ceremony in question. Here is
an instance of such a sign. Abaye and Raba, the two celebrated
heroes of the Babylonian Talmud, were sitting at the table of
Rabbah. Before saying grace he asked them, “Do you know to
whom these prayers are addressed?” Thereupon one boy pointed
to the roof, whilst the other boy went out and pointed to the sky.
The examiner was satisfied with their answer.
The privilege of putting on the phylacteries forms now in most
countries the chief distinction of “The Son of the Law”; in olden
times, however, every boy had claim to it as soon as he showed
himself capable of behaving respectfully when wearing the holy
symbol. It even happened that certain honours of the synagogue
were bestowed on boys, though under age. We possess a copy of
260
, the name of a prayer commencing ,
“Magnified and sanctified be,” etc.
261
Prayer beginning , “Bless ye,” etc.
262
, beginning of a prayer, “Blessed be He,” etc.
a Jewish epitaph dating from about the third century, which was
written in Rome for a boy of eight years, who is there designated
as archon. The fact is the more curious, as on the other hand the
[312] Palestinian R. Abuha, who lived in the same century, maintained
that no man must be elected as Warden before he has achieved his
fiftieth year. That boys were admitted to preach in the synagogue
I have already mentioned.263
From all these remarks it will easily be seen that in olden
times the boy enjoyed almost all the rights of majority long
before the day of his being “The Son of the Law.” The condition
of the novice is hardly distinguishable from that of the initiated
priest. The Talmud, the Gaonim, and even R. Isaac Alfasi and
Maimonides knew neither the term “The Son of the Law” (in our
sense of the word) nor any ceremony connected with it. There is
only one slight reference to such an institution, recorded in the
Tractate Sopherim, with the quotation of which I shall conclude
this paper. We read there: “In Jerusalem there was the godly
custom to initiate the children at the beginning of the thirteenth
year by fasting the whole Day of Atonement. During this year
they took the boy to the priests and learned men that they might
bless him, and pray for him that God might think him worthy of
a life devoted to the study of the Torah and pious works.” For,
this author says, “they were beautiful, and their lives harmonious
and their hearts directed to God.”
[313]
263
See Schürer's Die Gemeindeverfassung der Juden in Rom, p. 24. Cf.
Hebräische Bibliographie, xix. p. 79.
XIII. Woman in Temple and
Synagogue
The learned Woman has always been a favourite subject with
Jewish students; and her intellectual capabilities have been fully
vindicated in many an essay and even fair-sized book. Less atten-
tion, however, has been paid to woman's claims as a devotional
being whom the Temple, and afterwards the Synagogue, more or
less recognised. At least it is not known to me that any attempt
has been made to give, even in outline, the history of woman's
relation to public worship. It is needless to say that the present
sketch, which is meant to supply this want in some measure, lays
no claim to completeness; but I venture to hope that it will help
to direct the attention of the friends of research to the matter, and
that it may induce others to deal more fully with the subject and
do it the justice it deserves.
The earliest allusion to women's participation in public wor-
ship, is that in Exodus xxxviii. 8, to the women who assembled
to minister at the door of the “tent of meeting,” of whose mirrors
the lavers of brass were made (cf. 1 Sam. ii. 22). Philo, who is
not exactly enamoured of the emancipation of women, and seeks
to confine them to the “small state,” is here full of their praise.
“For,” he says, “though no one enjoined them to do so, they
of their own spontaneous zeal and earnestness contributed the [314]
mirrors with which they had been accustomed to deck and set off
their beauty, as the most becoming first-fruits of their modesty,
and of the purity of their married life, and, as one may say, of
the beauty of their souls.” In another passage Philo describes the
Jewish women as “competing with the men themselves in piety,
having determined to enter upon a glorious contest, and to the
utmost extent of their power to exert themselves so as not to fall

short of their holiness.”
It is, however, very difficult to ascertain in what this ministry
of women consisted. The Hebrew term “Zobeoth”264 would
suggest the thought of a species of religious Amazons, who
formed a guard of honour round the Sanctuary. Some commen-
tators think that the ministry consisted in performing religious
dances accompanied by various instruments. The Septuagint
again speaks “of the women who fasted by the doors of the
Tabernacle.” But most of the old Jewish expositors, as well as
Onkelos, conceive that the women went to the tent of meeting to
pray. Ibn Ezra offers the interesting remark, “And behold, there
were women in Israel serving the Lord, who left the vanities
of this world, and not being desirous of beautifying themselves
any longer, made of their mirrors a free offering, and came to
the tabernacle every day to pray and to listen there to the words
of the commandments.” When we find that in 1 Sam. i. 12,
“Hannah continued to pray before the Lord,” she was only doing
there what many of her sisters did before and after her. We may
also judge that it was from the number of these noble women,
who made religion the aim of their lives, that the “twenty-two”
[315] heroines and prophetesses sprang who form part of the glory of
Jewish history. Sometimes it even happened that their husbands
derived their religious inspiration from them. Thus the husband
of the prophetess Deborah is said to have been an unlettered
man. But his wife made him carry to the Sanctuary the candles
which she herself had prepared, this being the way in which she
encouraged him to seek communion with the righteous.
The language in which the husband of the “Great Woman” of
Shunem addresses his wife: “Wherefore wilt thou go to him” (the
prophet)? “it is neither New Moon nor Sabbath” (2 Kings iv. 23),
proves that on Festivals and Sabbaths the women used to attend
264
.
XIII. Woman in Temple and Synagogue 299
some kind of worship, performed by the prophet, though we

cannot say in what this worship consisted. The New Moon was
especially a woman's holiday, and was so observed even in the
Middle Ages, for the women refrained from doing work on that
day. The explanation given by the Rabbis is that when the men
broke off their golden earrings to supply material for the golden
calf, the women refused to contribute their trinkets, for which
good behaviour a special day of repose was granted to them.
Some Cabbalists even maintain that the original worshippers of
the golden calf continue to exist on earth, their souls having suc-
cessively migrated into various bodies, while their punishment
consists in this, that they are ruled over by their wives. Rather
interesting as well as complimentary to women is the remark
which the Rabbis made with regard to the “Great Woman.” As
will be remembered, it is she who says, “I perceive that this
(Elisha) is a holy man of God” (2 Kings iv. 19). In allusion to
this verse the Talmud says: “From this fact we may infer that
woman is quicker in recognising the worth of a stranger than [316]
man.”
The great woman, or women, continued to pray and to join in
the public worship also after the destruction of the first Temple.
Thus Esther is reported by tradition to have addressed God in a
long extempore prayer before she presented herself before the
throne of Ahasuerus to plead her people's cause; and women
were always enjoined to attend the reading of the Book of Esther.
When Ezra read the Law for the first time, he did so in the
presence of the men and the women (Neh. viii. 3). In the Book
of the Maccabees we read of “The women girt with sackcloth
... and the maidens that ran to the gates.... And all holding their
hands towards heaven made supplication.” In the Judith legend,
mention is also made of “Every man and woman ... who fell
before the Temple, and spread out their sackcloth before the
face of the Lord ... and cried before the God of Israel.” In the
second Temple, the women, as is well known, possessed a court
reserved for their exclusive use. There the great illuminations

and rejoicings on the evening of the Feast of Tabernacles used to
be held. On this occasion, however, the women were confined
to galleries specially erected for them. It was also in this Wom-
en's Hall that the great public reading of certain portions of the
Law by the king, once in seven years, used to take place, and
women had also to attend at the function. On the other hand,
it is hardly necessary to say that women were excluded from
performing any important service in the Temple. If we were
to trust a certain passage in the “Chapters of R. Eliezer,” we
might perhaps conclude that during the first Temple, the wives
[317] of the Levites formed a part of the choir, but the meaning of
the passage is too obscure and doubtful for us to be justified in
basing on it so important an inference. Nor can the three hundred
maidens who were employed for the weaving of the curtains in
the Temple, be looked upon as having stood in closer connection
with the Temple, or as having formed an order of women-priests
or girl-devotees (as one might wrongly be induced to think by
certain passages in Apocryphal writings of the New Testament).
But on the other hand, it is not improbable that their frequent
contact with the Sanctuary of the nation produced in them that
religious enthusiasm and zeal which may account for the heroic
death which—according to the legend—they sought and found
after the destruction of the Temple. It is to be remarked that,
according to the law, women were even exempted from putting
their hands on the head of the victim, which formed an important
item in the sacrificial worship. It is, however, stated by an
eye-witness, that the authorities permitted them to perform this
ceremony if they desired to do so, and that their reason for this
concession was “to give calmness of the spirit, or satisfaction, to
women.”
Still greater, perhaps, was “the calmness of spirit” given to
women in the synagogue. We find in ancient epitaphs that such
titles of honour were conferred upon them as “Mistress of the
Synagogue,” and “Mother of the Synagogue,” and, though they

held no actual office in the Synagogue, it is not improbable
that they acquired these titles by meritorious work connected
with a religious institution, viz.: Charity. There was, indeed,
a tendency to exclude women from the synagogue at certain
seasons, but almost all the authorities protest against it, many
of them declaring such a notion to be quite un-Jewish. Some [318]
Jewish scholars even think that the ancient synagogues knew of
no partition for women. I am rather inclined to think that the
synagogue took for its model the arrangements in the Temple,
and thus confined women to a place of their own. But, whether
they sat side by side with the men or occupied a special portion
of the edifice, there can be no doubt that the Jewish women were
great synagogue-goers. To give only one instance. One Rabbi
asks another: Given the case that the members of the synagogue
are all descendants of Aaron, to whom then would they impart
their blessing? The answer is, to the women who are there.
Of the sermon they were even more fond than their husbands.
Thus one woman was so much interested in the lectures of R.
Meir, which he was in the habit of giving every Friday evening,
that she used to remain there so long that the candles in her house
burnt themselves out. Her lazy husband, who stopped at home,
so strongly resented having to wait in the dark, that he would
not permit her to cross the threshold until she gave some offence
to the preacher, which would make him sure that she would not
venture to attend his sermons again.
The prayers they said were the Eighteen Benedictions which
were prescribed by the Law. But it would seem that occasionally
they offered short prayers composed by themselves as suggested
by their personal feelings and needs. Thus, to give one instance,
R. Johanan relates that one day he observed a young girl fall
on her face and pray: “Lord of the world, Thou hast created
Paradise, Thou hast created hell, Thou hast created the wicked,
Thou hast created the righteous; may it be Thy will that I may not
[319] serve as a stumbling-block to them.” The fine Hebrew in which

the prayer is expressed, and the notion of the responsibility of
Providence for our actions, manifest a high degree of intelligence
and reflection. It would also seem that some women went so far
in their religious sensibility as to lead a regular ascetic life, and,
according to the suggestion of some scholars, even took the vow
of celibacy. Of these the Rabbis did not approve, and stigmatised
them as the “destroyers of the world.” Perhaps it was just at this
period that Judaism could not afford to give free play to those
morbid feelings, degenerating into religious hysterics, which led
some to join rival sects, and others to abandon themselves to the
gross immorality we read of in the history of the Gnostics.
The same circumstances may have been the cause of public
opinion being led to accept the view of R. Eliezer, who thought it
inadvisable—it would seem on moral grounds—to permit wom-
an to study the Law. This opinion was opposed to that of Ben
Azzai, who considered it incumbent upon every father to teach
his daughter Torah. But justified as the advice of R. Eliezer may
have been in his own time, it was rather unfortunate that later
generations continued to take it as the guiding principle for the
education of their children. Many great women in the course
of history indeed became law-breakers and studied Torah; but
the majority were entirely dependent on men, and became in
religious matters a sort of appendix to their husbands, who by
their good actions insured salvation also for them, and sometimes
the reverse. Thus there is a story about a woman which, put
into modern language, would be to the effect that she married a
[320] minister and copied his sermons for him; he died, and she then
married a cruel usurer, and kept his accounts for him.
The fact that women were exempted from certain affirmative
laws, which become operative only at special seasons—e.g., the
taking of the palm branch on the Feast of Tabernacles—must also
have contributed to weaken their position as a religious factor
in Judaism. The idea that women should vie with men in the
fulfilment of every law, became even for the Rabbis a notion

connected only with the remotest past. This is the impression
one gains when reading the legend about Michal, the daughter
of Saul, putting on phylacteries, or the wife of the prophet Jonah
making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem at the three Festivals. It would
indeed seem as if women were led to strive for the satisfaction
of their religious wants in another direction. Yet it was said
of Jewish women, “The daughters of Israel were stringent and
laid certain restrictions on themselves.” They were also allowed
to form a quorum by themselves for the purpose of saying the
Grace, but they could not be counted along with males for this
end. It was also against the early notion of the dignity of the
congregation that women should perform any public service for
men.
One privilege was left to women—that of weeping. In Judges
xi. 40, we read of the daughters of Israel that went yearly to
lament the daughter of Jephthah; while in 2 Chronicles xxxv. 25,
we are told how “all the singing men and the singing women
spake of Josiah in their lamentations.” Of this privilege they were
not deprived, and if they were not allowed to sing any longer,
they at least retained the right to weep as much as they pleased.
Even in later times they held a public office as mourning women [321]
at funerals. In the Talmud fragments of compositions by women
for such occasions are to be found. Indeed, woman became in
these times the type of grief and sorrow. She cannot reason, but
she feels much more deeply than man. Here is one instance from
an old legend: Jeremiah said, “When I went up to Jerusalem
(after the destruction of the Temple) I lifted my eyes and saw
there a lonely woman sitting on the top of the mountain, her dress
black, her hair dishevelled, crying, ‘Who will comfort me?’ I
approached her and spake to her, ‘If thou art a woman, speak to
me. If thou art a ghost, begone.’ She answered, ‘Dost thou not
know me?... I am the Mother, Zion.’ ”
In general, however, the principle applied to women was: The
king's daughter within the palace is all glorious (Psalm xlv. 14),
but not outside of it. In the face of the “Femina in ecclesia taceat,”
which was the ruling maxim with other religions, Jewish women
could only feel flattered by this polite treatment by the Rabbis,
though it meant the same thing. We must not think, however, that
this prevented them from attending the service of the synagogue.
According to the Tractate Sopherim, even “the little daughters
of Israel were accustomed to go to the synagogue.” In the same
tractate we find it laid down as “a duty to translate for them
the portion (of the Law) of the week, and the lesson from the
prophets” into the language they understand. The “King's daugh-
ter” occasionally asserted her rights without undue reliance on
the opinion of the authorities. And thus being ignorant of the He-
brew language women prayed in the vernacular, though this was
at least against the letter of the law. And many famous Rabbis
[322] of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries express their wonder that
the “custom of women praying in other (non-Hebrew) languages
extended over the whole world.” It is noteworthy that they did
not suppress the practice, but on the contrary, they endeavoured
to give to the Law such an interpretation as would bring it into
accord with the general custom. Some even recommended it,
as, for example, the author of The Book of the Pious, who gives
advice to women to learn the prayers in the language familiar to
them.
At about the same period a lengthy controversy was being
waged by the commentators of the Talmud and the codifiers,
about woman's partaking in the fulfilment of the laws for special
seasons, from which, as already remarked, they were exempted.
To the action itself there could not be much objection, but the dif-
ficulty arose when women also insisted on uttering the blessing.
Now the point at issue was whether they could be permitted to
say, for instance, “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, etc., who
hast sanctified us by Thy Commandments, and hast commanded
us, concerning the taking of the Palm branch,” since in reality
the women had not been commanded to do it. To such logical

and systematic minds as Maimonides and R. Joseph Caro, the
difficulty was insurmountable, and they forbade women to use
the formula; but with the less consistent majority women carried
their point. Rather interesting is the answer received by R. Jacob,
of Corbeil, with regard to this question. This Rabbi is said to have
enjoyed the mysterious power which enabled him to appeal in
cases of doubt to the celestial authorities. Before them he put also
this women's case for decision. Judgment was communicated
to him in the verse from the Scriptures, “In all that Sarah saith
unto Thee, hearken unto her voice” (Gen. xxi. 12). Nor was [323]
it unknown for a pious Jew to compose a special hymn for his
wife's use in honour of the Sabbath.
How long this custom of women praying in the vernacular
lasted, we have no means of ascertaining. Probably was already
extinct about the end of the fifteenth century. For R. Solomon
Portaleone, who lived in the sixteenth century, already regrets
the abolition of “this beautiful and worthy custom.” “When they
prayed in the vernacular,” he says, “they understood what they
were saying, whilst now they only gabble off their prayers.”
As a sort of compromise we may regard the various “Supplica-
tions”;265 they form a kind of additional prayers supplementary
to the ordinary liturgy, and are written in German. Chiefly
composed by women, they specially answer the needs of the sex
on various occasions. These prayers deserve a full description by
themselves, into which I cannot enter here; I should like only to
mention that in one of these collections in the British Museum, a
special supplication is added for servant-maids, and if I am not
quite mistaken, also one for their mistresses.
It is also worth noticing that the manuals on the “Three Wom-
en's Commandments” (mostly composed in German, sometimes
also in rhymes), contained much more than their titles would
265
.
suggest. They rather served as headings to groups of laws,

arranged under each commandment. Thus the first (about certain
laws in Lev. xii. and xv.) becomes the motto for purity in body
and soul; the second (the consecration of the first cake of the
dough) includes all matters relating to charity, in which women
were even reminded to encourage their newly married husbands
[324] not to withhold from the poor the tithes of the bridal dowry, as
well as of their future yearly income; whilst the third (the lighting
of the Sabbath lamp) becomes the symbol for spiritual light and
sweetness in every relation of human life.
As another compromise may also be considered the institution
of “Vorsugern” (woman-reader) or the “Woilkennivdicke” (the
well-knowing one) who reads the prayers and translates them
into the vernacular for the benefit of her less learned sisters. In
Poland and in Russia, even at the present time, such a wom-
an-reader is to be found in every synagogue, and from what I
have heard the institution is by no means unknown in London.
The various prayer-books containing the Hebrew text as well as
the Jewish-German translation, which appear in such frequent
editions in Russia, are mostly intended for the use of these pray-
ing women. Not uninteresting is the title-page of R. Aaron Ben
Samuel's Jewish-German translations and collections of prayers
which appeared in the beginning of the eighteenth century. He
addressed the Jewish public in the following terms: “My dear
brethren, buy this lovely prayer-book or wholesome tonic for
body and soul, which has never appeared in such German print
since the world began; and make your wives and children read it
often, thus they will refresh their bodies and souls, for this light
will shine forth into your very hearts. As soon as the children
read it they will understand their prayers, by which they will
enjoy both this world and the world to come.”
An earlier translator of the prayer-book addresses himself
directly to the “pious women” whom he invites to buy his book,
“in which they will see very beautiful things.” Recent centuries
seem, on the whole, to have been distinguished for the number of [325]
praying-women they produced. The virtues which constituted the
claim of women to religious distinction were modesty, charity,
and daily attendance at the synagogue morning and evening. In
the memorial books of the time hundreds of such women are
noticed. Some used also to spin the “Fringes,” which they pre-
sented to their friends; others fasted frequently, whilst “Old Mrs.
Hechele” not only attended the synagogue every day, and did
charity to poor and rich, but also understood the art of midwifery,
which she practised in the community without accepting payment
for her services. According to R. Ch. J. Bachrach women used
also to say the “Magnified” prayer in the synagogue when their
parents left no male posterity.
In bringing to a close this very incomplete sketch, perhaps
I ought to notice the confirmation of girls introduced during
this century in some communities in Germany, which the “Re-
formed” Rabbis recommended, but of which the “Orthodox”
Rabbis disapproved. It would be well if in the heat of such con-
troversies both sides would remember the words of R. Zedekiah
b. Abraham, of Rome, who with regard to a certain difference
of opinion on some ritual question, says: “Every man receives
reward from God for what he is convinced is the right thing, if
this conviction has no other motive but the love of God.”
[326]
XIV. The Earliest Jewish
Community in Europe
Roman Judaism has disappeared from our guide-books. Civili-
sation has levelled down the walls of the Ghetto, and its former
inhabitants are not any longer “a people that dwell alone.” But
with this well-deserved destruction a good deal of the interest
was also destroyed which the traveller used to attach to “the
peculiar people” enclosed in that terrible slum of Rome.
Still, if there is anything eternal in the “eternal city,” which
was neither reconstructed by the Cæsars, nor improved upon by
the Popes, it is the little Jewish community at Rome. It has
survived the former; it has suffered for many centuries under
the latter, and, partaking in the general revival which has come
upon the Italian nation, it may still be destined for a great future.
Indeed, the history of the relation of Israel to Rome is so old
that it is not lacking even in legendary elements. On the day
on which King Solomon married the daughter of Pharaoh, the
Rabbis narrate, there came down the angel Gabriel. He put a
reed into the sea, which, by means of the slime that adhered
to it, formed itself, in the course of time, into a large island,
on which the city of Rome was built—an event with which the
[327] troubles of Israel began. These were the evil consequences of
the first mésalliance. Even more unfortunate for Israel (and it
is not impossible that this is the meaning of the legend) were
the results of that spiritual mixed marriage between Judaism and
paganism which took place at a much later period, whereat a
blunt soldier, who sympathised with neither, and “who dealt in
salvation as he dealt in provinces,” acted as best man. As a
fact, the parties concerned never understood each other properly.
XIV. The Earliest Jewish Community in Europe 309
The declaration of love, and the final proposal, were made in

an Alexandrine jargon, strange to both, the obscurities of which
only grew with the commentaries each successive generation
added to them. Under such circumstances, a happy union was
not to be expected, and the family quarrel which fills the annals
of civilised Europe soon broke out. Judaism, more particularly
Roman Judaism, witnessed this struggle from the beginning, and
its fortunes were greatly dependent on the chance which of these
two elements, the Jewish or the pagan, won the ascendency.
However, I am theologising too much, whilst I am deviating
from the subject of these lines. Nor could I think of giving here,
even in outline, the history of the oldest Jewish community in
Europe. This has been already admirably done by Dr. A. Berlin-
er, who has made the history of the Jews of Rome the subject
of his studies for nearly a quarter of a century. I intend only
to reproduce here, in a stray fashion, some of those impressions
and reflections which, I am certain, must occur to every Jewish
traveller in Italy.
Now I do not think for a moment that we Jews should have
a point of view of our own for looking at things and men in
this paradise of Europe. It would be as silly to have a Jewish [328]
Baedeker as to think of orthodox mathematics or an ecclesiastical
logic or a racial morality—though unfortunately there exist such
things. But on the other hand, if we have not, like the fox in
the fable, left our heart at home, let us not do violence to our
feelings by passing over everything Jewish, over sights which
might remind us of our history, with a certain indifference which
would be affected on our part. We are not all little Goethes, nor
even little Ruskins, and our artistic enjoyment is hardly so intense
as to shut our hearts against impressions which force themselves
upon us either by the way of remembrance of the past, or even
as a living contrast in the present.
It so happened that my first visit to the Vatican was on a
Friday. After doing my work in the Vatican Library, which is
open till noon, I went into the adjoining Church of St. Peter.
One should be, like the angel of death in the legend, full
of eyes, properly to see all the wonders of art and marvels of
architecture at which human genius and piety laboured busily
through centuries, in adorning the grandest of sacred buildings in
the world. But there is Baedeker or Murray serving at least as a
pair of good spectacles to the layman, and it was by their aid that
I made my round in St. Peter. But lo, whilst you are observing
the celebrated Pietà by Michael Angelo, and, according to the
instruction of your guides, admiring both the grief of the Mother
and the death of the Son, you notice in its vicinity a little col-
umn, surrounded by rails to which the pilgrims approach with a
certain awe; for “Tradition affirms it to have been brought from
Jerusalem.” Naturally, one is instantly reminded of the report,
[329] given by the famous traveller of Tudela, of the curiosities of
Rome, which among other things records, “That there are also
to be seen in St. Giovanni in Porta Latina (probably meant for
Lateran) the two brazen pillars, constructed by King Solomon
of blessed memory, whose name, Solomon, the son of David,
is engraved upon each; of which he was also told that every
year about the 9th of Ab (the anniversary of the destruction of
Jerusalem), these pillars sweat so much that water runs down
from them.” So far Benjamin of Tudela in the twelfth century. In
our days pillars weep no longer, and even of men it is considered
a special sign of good breeding to behave pillar-like; but a sigh is
still permissible at the sight of this temple-column, which in its
captivity symbolises, not less than the Pietà, the grief of a whole
people. Of course, not possessing on the spot either the Itinerary
or even Urlick, one is unable to establish the connection between
these two traditions and their claim to authenticity. Perhaps
one may even comfort oneself on the same ground on which
the famous curé tried to appease his flock who were sobbing
bitterly at his telling them the Passion story. He exclaimed: “My
children, do not weep so much; it happened long ago, and even
perhaps is not quite true.”

However, the Vatican is the last place in the world to exercise
your critical faculties; you are so deeply absorbed in seeing, that
you have no time to think. So on I went, from aisle to aisle,
from niche to niche, from chapel to chapel, looking, staring, and
admiring, till of a sudden my eyes were struck by a large statue,
on which the words, “Thou shalt have no other God before me,”
are engraved. There I stood before a question of exegesis, where
one is permitted to use his right senses without any regard to [330]
the æsthetic side. Yet not all the manifold expositions of the
Decalogue, nor all the talk about the subjective-objective, the
absolute and the real, with which metaphysicians have tried to
confuse the notion of the Unity of God, will reconcile one to
the meaning which Mediæval Art has impressed upon the Ten
Commandments. The truth has to be sought elsewhere, and thus
my thoughts were turned to the synagogue, and thither I went.
The day was already drawing to its close, and, by a marvellous
coincidence, I arrived at the synagogue just as the congregation
was intoning the words: “The Lord is one, and His name is one to
His renown and glory.” Here was sound, simple exegesis, though
sadly lacking in the illustrative matter in which the Vatican is
so rich. But what need was there of any real or artificial “aid to
the believer,” in the presence of such a living faith, as enabled
this little community to maintain its protesting position in the
teeth of the mistress of the world! And this even at a time, when
it only required a hint from the successors of the old Roman
Emperors to make the whole world renounce its right of thinking
and judging, and, were we to believe Herr Janssen, even to feel
perfectly happy in this torpor.
But, by the way, are our own times much better? As I write
these lines (October 1893) I hear that a Bill has been brought
into the German Diet, asking that the Talmud should be sub-
mitted to a Commission (which en passant, has been sitting in
unbroken session in that country since the days of Pfefferkorn in
the fifteenth century) with the purpose of examining its contents,

while in the Vatican the very pupils of Loyola are offering every
[331] convenience and comfort to the student who should care to
devote his time to Rabbinic literature. Does not the work of a
great number of our poets, historians, theologians, and so-called
seers in this blessed century of ours, in many respects prove
but a strained effort to destroy the few humanitarian principles
which were established a few generations ago, as well as to deify
every brutal warrior who was successful in his day? Again, is the
national idea so much sublimer, so much grander, than that of
a universal religion, that we would willingly permit the former
to employ the means which have been denied to the latter as
inhuman and barbarous? Every age has its own idolatry, and the
eternal wandering Jew will always be the chosen victim of the
Moloch in fashion.
Let us, however, return to the synagogue, which withstood
many a cruelty, both ancient and modern. The place where the
synagogue stands is near the Ghetto, now called Piazza di Scuola.
It is, besides a few other communal houses, the only building
left there,—all those narrow, dirty, and typhoid-breeding streets
which formed the old Ghetto having been demolished by a sage
and humane government, which by this action wiped out the last
stain from its history. There, on this vast blank is the synagogue,
a comparatively small, insignificant building, laden with heavy
age and looking down on her children whom she has been nurs-
ing, consoling, and protecting for centuries, but who, now grown
old, have forsaken her and scattered to all the ends of the city. Of
all her former acquaintances there appears to be left only father
Tiber, who would seem to be murmuring to her many an old
tale of the times before she was called into existence. And if he
[332] listened to the special prayers recited within her walls by the
deputies of the Jewish communities, when preparing themselves
to go to the court of the Pope, the Tiber heard many a sigh and
cry, wrung out from the heart of a Jewish captive who, preferring
death to slavery even under the masters of the world, found his
last repose in its waters. But insignificant as this synagogue
appears, she proved the spiritual bulwark against all the attacks
of the time, and you admire her brave resistance all the more
when you look at that multitude of churches and cloisters in
the closest vicinity of the Ghetto, impressing you as so many
intrenchments, all directing their missiles and weapons against
this humble, defenceless building, threatening it with death and
destruction. One of these churches, probably founded by some
Jewish convert, who gained in it both salvation and a good living,
bears on its gates in Hebrew letters the inscription: “I have spread
out my hands all the day unto a rebellious people, which walketh
in the way that was not good, after their own thoughts. A people
that provoketh me to anger continually to my face” (Isaiah lxv.
2, 3). Menace is followed by persuasion, the cited verses being
accompanied by the Latin words: “Indulgentia plenaria quoto-
diana perpetua pro vivis et defunctis.” Theologians who like to
quarrel most about things they can know least, have for ages
discussed the question, whether prayers for the dead are of any
use; here the matter is decided by a simple advertisement. It is
not to be denied that one would enjoy the fortunes accumulated
by one's late sinner of an uncle all the better for being sure that
a few pennyworths of prayer enable the legatee to make one's
benefactor in Hades comfortable and happy. [333]
The thought is very consoling indeed, and it is not to be won-

dered at that the Roman synagogue could not entirely withstand
its temptations, and introduced into the offering-blessing after
one is called up to the Torah, the words: “To the advancing of
the soul of the departed.” Of course much of this tendency may
be attributed to the Ford Jabbok,266 which was and is still very
popular in that country; but the fact that the author of this Jewish
“Book of the Dead” was an Italian (from Modena), shows clearly
266
.
that there was some Catholic influence at work, from which even
the fellow-countrymen of Azariah de Rossi and Judah Messer
Leon could not entirely emancipate themselves.
I ought to have spoken of Roman synagogues, since the
building in the Ghetto to which I have been constantly alluding
comprises four prayer-houses devoted to Spanish and Italian
rites. It says much for Roman Judaism, that they did not consider
ritual differences of such importance as to prevent them from
forming one community for all charitable and congregational
purposes. In Verona and in Modena some congregations even
retained the German rite, which their ancestors who immigrated
from the Rhine provinces brought with them, whilst they ac-
cepted the Spanish pronunciation. I wish that the Anglo-Jewish
community could see their way to imitate their example. Not
that I think for a moment that the Spanish pronunciation is more
correct than the German. Each system has its own mistakes
and corruptions; and it is more than probable that the prophet
Isaiah, or even the author of Ecclesiastes, would be as little able
to follow the prayers in Bevis Marks as in Duke's Place. But
since the non-Jewish scientific world has, though only by pure
[334] accident, accepted the Spanish way of reading the Hebrew, I
should like to see this trifling difference of Baruch over Buruch
at last disappear, by pronouncing the camets-vowel a instead
of o, and accepting similar little changes, which are of no real
importance to us.
The inside of these synagogues is even more simple than their
outside. I was told that the synagogue which was burned down
last winter, and which also formed a part of this building, could
boast of many fine decorations and carvings, etc., but I could
observe nothing of the kind in the synagogues I had occasion to
frequent. Nor is there much of natural decorum in them, and they
reconcile one perfectly to the worst of the Small Synagogues
elsewhere. I venture to think that in this respect, too, we have to
recognise Catholic influence. It was, I think, one of the leaders
in the Oxford Movement who expressed his delight at seeing

in Italy a woman poorly-dressed coming into the church, who,
after putting down the basket from her back, kneels before one
of the many altars and says her prayers. A good deal of this
familiarity in the place of worship may also be noticed in the
Roman synagogues, where I have seen a woman come into the
partition for men, notwithstanding their having a separate gallery,
without bonnet or hat on her head, and with an infant in her arms,
and listen there to the prayers, till she walked home with her
husband. The other people were also very restless, coming and
going often, whilst, as soon as the reading of the Law was over,
the greater part of the worshippers left the synagogue. It was not a
very delightful sight. A minus of decorum does not always mean
a plus of devotion; just as little as a maximum of respectability
and stiffness are to be taken as signs of true piety. [335]
It is not uninteresting to notice that the Roman synagogue,

in spite of its old traditions, did not entirely shut itself against
modern reforms. Among them there is that of “calling up the
people to the Torah” by the simple formula, “Let the Priest” (or
“the Levite”) “step forth,”267 and so on, not mentioning either
names or titles, which I should like to recommend most strongly
to our congregations. I hope that no man will suspect me of such
heresy as that of questioning the wisdom of the Synagogue Regu-
lations. But I am inclined to think that the business of conferring
the degrees of Rabbi, “Associate” or “Master,” does not exactly
fall within the sphere of activity of the Wardens. The matter
could only be decided by a proper Board of examination. As the
Council is not provided with such a Board, nor is every aspirant
to this honour prepared to undergo the examination required, the
267
. In olden times the weekly lesson from the Law used to be read
by seven members of the congregation who were “called up” for this purpose;
the Priest and the Levite took precedence of laymen for this honour. At the
present day, the members of the congregation are still called up, but the actual
reading is performed by an official.
wisest course would be to give up titles altogether, calling up all

people alike in the way indicated.
The robes the ministers wear (somewhat similar to those of
the Greek clergy), are probably also an innovation of modern
date,—the old orthodox Rabbis looking at any special vestment
for the Preacher or Reader with the same feeling of disgust
which the old Puritans entertained for surplice or mitre. But
the principle of “The Beauty of Holiness” proved too strong
for resistance, and it was only a pardonable vanity when the
reformers applied it to their own persons; “Vanity of vanities,”
saith the preacher, so often, that he gets rather to like it. This
vanity is greatly redeemed by the fact that the preacher does not
grudge his uniform to his humbler brother, the beadle, who is in
most cases to be distinguished from the officiating ministry only
[336] by the brass-plate on his breast, on which the word “Servant”
is engraved. Considering the great confusion arising from the
meaningless “Reverend” and the universal white neck-tie, such a
label, indicating the proper office of the bearer, might, perhaps,
prove as useful among the English Jews as it is among the Jews
of Rome.
It was with a pupil of the Rabbinical College, in company with
his friends, that I took my first walk through ancient Rome. I felt
attracted to him by his striking face of that peculiar fine Jewish
type, which is more common among the Jews in the East than
among us. And when he was reading the lesson from the Prophets
in the synagogue, where I made his acquaintance, he reminded
me of that Jewish boy with bright eyes, black curls, and features
strikingly beautiful walking as a captive from Jerusalem through
the streets of Rome some seventeen centuries ago, whose profi-
ciency in the words of Isaiah caused his redemption. It would be
an exaggeration to say that my companion's remarks were very
instructive from an artistic point of view. Being born and bred
in Rome, he passed with utter indifference many objects which
we are bidden to admire, whilst at others he actually shouted out
“Image,” or made some other prosaic remark. But in a country

where one is determined to play the heathen for so many weeks,
to worship superannuated deities, to get into raptures at every
reminiscence of superseded and vanishing religions, and to be
delighted at the sights of “greasy saints and martyrs hairy,” there
can be no great harm in being called back to one's true nature.
The feelings crowding upon one, when entering that part of the
ancient city which probably was in the mind of the Rabbis when
they spoke of “Guilty Rome,” are of a conflicting nature. Every [337]
stone and every brick there saw the humiliation of Israel, in every
theatre and every circus the Jew served as a comic figure, and was
held up to ridicule, whilst there was, perhaps, hardly a single lane
or gate through which those who resented the yoke of the “anti-
Semites of Antiquity” did not pass, in order to “be butchered to
make a Roman holiday.” What concerns a Jew most in this per-
ished world of ruins, and at the same time causes him the deepest
grief, is the triumphal arch of Titus, “commemorating the defeat
of the Jews, and dedicated to him by his successor, Domitian.”
Enough has been said and written about it both by antiquarians
and theologians, the former admiring the workmanship of the
reliefs, the latter perceiving in it a proof of the fulfilment of the
well-known passages in the New Testament about the destruction
of the Temple, which came to pass in spite of the efforts made
by Titus to save it. Those who have read Bernay's essay on the
“Chronik des Sulpicius Severus” know that the behaviour of “the
delight of the human species” on that occasion is rather open to
doubt, and it is more probable that, instead of trying to rescue
it, he commanded that it should be set on fire. Josephus, who
witnessed the shame of his compatriots and co-religionists, has
left us a full account of the triumphal procession. Only a flunkey
like Josephus could maintain that calm indifference with which
he describes the events of the “bitter day,” the perusal of which
makes one's blood boil. His description fairly agrees with the
famous relief on the arch, showing that part of the procession
in which the table with the shewbread, the candlestick with the
seven lamps, and the golden trumpets figure as the chief objects.
[338] The only thing which we miss is the “Law of the Jews,” which,
according to Josephus, was carried in the triumph as “the last of
all the spoils.” Was it only an oversight of the artist, or had he no
place for it, or is it Josephus who committed the error, mistaking
some other object for the Scroll of the Law? I dearly hope that
this last was the case, and that Heine was under the impulse of a
true and real and poetic inspiration when he wrote (speaking of
the Holy Scripture to which he owed his conversion): “The Jews,
who appreciate the value of precious things, knew right well
what they did when, at the burning of the second temple they left
to their fate the golden and silver implements of sacrifice, the
candlesticks and lamps, even the breastplate of the High Priest
adorned with great jewels, but saved the Bible. This was the real
treasure of the temple, and, thanks be to God! it was not left a
prey to the flames, nor to the fury of Titus Vespasian, the wretch,
who, as the Rabbi tells us, met with so dreadful a death.”
However, there were others who brought the glad tidings of
the Old Testament to Rome long before there existed a New
one. And this is, on the other side, what makes Rome a sort
of Terra Sancta even to the Jew. It is true that we have not to
look for the footprints of the prophets, for whom even tradition
never claimed “the gift of missionary-travelling.” But might not
the ground there have received a sort of consecration by the fact
that it was traversed by the ambassadors of Judas Maccabæus
(about 161 B.C.) “to make a league of amity and confederacy”
with the Roman Senate? Of the embassy of Simon the Maccabee
(about 140 B.C.) there is actual historical evidence that they be-
[339] gan to propagate in Rome the Jewish religion. Some seventy
or eighty years later the Jews had already their own quarter in
Rome, with their own synagogues, which they were in the habit
of visiting, “most especially on the sacred Sabbath days, when
they publicly cultivate their national philosophy.” That many
of the oldest teachers of Israel, the Tannaim, went to Rome as

deputies, and that one of them (R. Mathia ben Chares) founded a
school there early in the second century, is also an authenticated
fact. One would like to know what they taught, and in what
way they expounded their national philosophy. Most of all one
would like to know what were the spiritual means they employed
in their proselytising work, in which they were, according to
the testimony of history, so successful. Did they preach in the
streets? Or did they hold public controversies? Or did they
even send out Epistles which, in form at least, served as a model
to apostles of another creed? How many a problem would be
solved; how many a miracle would disappear; how many a book
would become superfluous, if we could obtain certainty about
these points! The Talmud tells us little, almost nothing, about
these important things, whilst we get from the Roman writers
only sneers and raillery. To these respectable Romans the Jews
were only a mob of unlettered atheists. Indeed, to a good ortho-
dox heathen, a religion without images and statues, with a God
without a pedigree and without a theogony, was an impossible
thing. Those poor metaphysicians!
However, why dwell so long on a past world? A famous
Rabbi once exclaimed: “If a man would ask thee, ‘Where is thy
God?’ answer him: ‘In the great city of Rome.’ ” The underlying
idea was the mystical notion that wherever Israel had to migrate, [340]
they were accompanied by the Divine presence. And Rome was,
in the times of the Rabbis, the point to which the streams of
Jewish migration from the Holy Land chiefly converged. But
now, instead of to Rome, might we not point to London and New
York as centres of Jewish migrations?
[361]
Index
This Index contains the most important names of persons, titles
of books, technical terms and Hebrew words occurring in the
text. In the notes to the text, the Hebrew words are for the most
part given also in Hebrew characters.
Abarbanel, Isaac, 173, 174
Abaye, 311
Ab Beth Din, 84
Abba Mari b. Moses, 165, 179
Abba Tachnah, the Chassid, 221
Abraham, Baalshem's father-in-law, 7
Abraham, son of Elijah Wilna, 88
Abraham of Bedres, 262
Abraham Abulaphia, 262
Abraham Ibn Daud, 162
Abraham Ibn Ezra, 50, 52, 64, 71, 210, 314
Abraham b. Shem—Tob Bibago, 172, 173
Abtalyon, 186
Abuha, 311
Index 321
Acha, 310
Acher, 292
Adam, Primal, 239
Agadah, pl. Agadoth, 64, 105, 183, 197
Agadic, 110, 156, 157, 193, 262, 279
Ages of Man, 295
Akabyah b. Mahalaleel, 305
Akiba, 70, 84, 130, 188, 190, 194, 220, 227, 228, 234
Almemor, 302
Ammi, 214, 217, 226, 231
Amora, pl. Amoraim, 17, 84, 195
Amram Gaon, 293
Anna of Kaidon, wife of Elijah Wilna, 82
Anselm, St., of Canterbury, 79
Antigonos of Socho, 229
Anti-Maimonists, 133
Aristotle, 79, 167
Aryeh Leb, son of Elijah Wilna, 88
Ascension of Elijah, 75
Asher b. Jechiel, 210

Assideans, 64
Ayil Meshulash, 81
Azariah de Rossi, 66, 71, 105, 333
Aziluth, 117
Azulai, 277
Baalshem, Israel, 3-12, 14-35, 73
Bachrach, Ch. J., 325
Bachur, pl. Bachurim, 95, 97
Bachya, 131
Baraitha, 271
Baruch Sheamar, 311
Bashazi, 161
Bath-Kol, 190
Beer of Mizriez, 11, 37
Beer, Peter, 66
Ben Azzai, 130, 216, 319
Benjamin of Tudela, 329
Ben-Jacob, 259
Ben Sira, 297
Ben Zoma, 130

Index 323
Bereshith, 127
Berith Milah, 288, 292, 293
Berliner, A., 327
Bernays, Isaak, 337
Beth Din, 191-193
Beth Hammidrash, 7, 16, 84, 139
Beth Talmud, 210
Biccurim, 58
Bloch, Samson, 51
Bodek, A., 51
Book of Brightness (see Zohar)
Book of the Pious, 295, 322
Book of Victory, 167
Book of Weight, 133
Boswell, 142, 197
Buckle, 96
Burbot, 138
Buzagli, the Cabbalist, 310
Cabbalah, Cabbalists, 99, 128, 129, 133, 210, 283, 315

Cabod, 120, 121
Caraites, 48, 160, 161, 207, 208
Casaubon, Isaac, 259
Chagigah, 77
Chakhamim, 57
Chambers, the, 208
Chanina b. Dossa, 217
Chanukah, 138
Chapters of R. Eliezer the Great, 68, 69, 316
Chasdai Ibn Crescas, 167-173, 180
Chassidim, Chassid, Chassidic, Chassidism, 1-4, 11, 12, 14-16,

21, 22, 25-27, 30, 33, 35-41, 43-45, 53, 73, 90,
298
Chayim Vital, 99
Chayim Walosin, 85, 87, 94
Chisda, 307
Chukkim, 124
Code of the Law, by Caro, 75, 92, 206, 211, 257
Collectanea, 144
Commentary on the Pentateuch, by Nachmanides, 107, 108,

123, 135
Index 325
Creeds and Opinions, by Saadiah Gaon, 162
Crown, 239
Cusari, 162
Date of the Redemption, 105
David Rocca Martino, 230
David Messer Leon, 174
David b. Samuel d'Estella, 165, 166
David b. Yom-Tob Bilia, 166.
Defence of Adam, 230
Delmedigo, 71, 131, 175
Disputation, by Nachmanides, 103
Dukes, L., 260
Eighteen Benedictions, 83
Eleazar, 229
Eleazar b. Jacob, 225
Eliezer, father of Baalshem, 5
Eliezer b. Hyrkanos, 189, 319
Eliezer b. Samuel Hallevi, 145
Eliezer b. Simeon, 223

Elijah Levita, 268
Elijah Wilna, 57, 73-77, 81-92, 96, 97
Elisha b. Abuyah, 33, 130, 292
Emden, Jacob, 10, 259
Epikurus, 157
Erech Millin, 66
Erter, Isaac, 51, 59, 288
Essenes, 64, 185
Examination of the World, 97
Eybeschütz, J., 10
Ezra, or Azriel, the mystic, 100
Faithful City, the, 75
Fichte, 51
Finn, 75
Ford Jabbok, 333
Frankists, 10
Frankl, Z., 65, 97
Fürst, J., 66
Gamaliel I., 234
Gamaliel II., 194, 212

Index 327
Gaon, pl. Gaonim, 73, 76-78, 97, 98, 206, 208, 209, 289, 312
Garden of Mystical Contemplation, 129
Gate of Reward, 115, 213
Geiger, A., 66
Gemara, 78
Gershon, brother-in-law of Baalshem, 8, 9
Ghetto, 326, 331-333
Gnostics, 64
Goethe, 57, 73, 306, 328
Gozer, 290
Graetz, 65, 97, 99, 183
Great Interpreters, 186
Green, A. L., 255
Guide of the Perplexed, 49, 68, 97, 102, 130, 131, 179
Guide of the Perplexed of the Time, 60, 67
Hadasi, Judah, 160, 161
Hai Gaon, 77, 208, 209, 272
Halachah, pl. Halachoth, 64, 66, 183
Halachic, 57, 92, 110, 157, 193, 207

Halachoth Gedoloth, 111, 112
Hannaneel of Kairwan, 162
Hegel, 51, 54, 64, 65
Heine, 59, 124, 254
High Belief, 162
Hillel the Great, 185, 186, 188, 193, 237
Hillel, R., 177
History of Jewish Tradition, 65, 182
Hithlahabuth, 32
Holle Kreisch, 294, 295
Huna, 221, 225
Isaac Alfasi, 13, 100, 101, 111, 312
Isaac Aramah, 173
Isaac Loria, 76, 133
Isaac b. Ruben, 100
Ishmael, 188, 190, 224
Ishmael b. Elishah, 222, 299
Israel Baalshem (see Baalshem, Israel)
Jacob of Corbeil, 322
Jacob Dubna, 91
Index 329
Jacob the Levite, or Maharil, 143, 144
Jacob Sasportas, 101, 102
Jacob Tam, 210
Jannai, 226
Jedaiah of Bedres, 97, 131
Jerusalem, by Mendelssohn, 147
Johanan, 249, 287, 303, 318
Johanan b. Zaccai, 48, 188
Jonah Gerundi, 100, 101
Jonah, son of Nachmanides, 101
José, 218, 219
Joseph Albashir, 160
Joseph Albo, 171, 172
Joseph Caro, 75, 92, 206, 211, 322
Joseph Jabez, 131, 173, 179
Joshua b. Hananiah, 194, 299, 304, 308
Jost, M., 66
Judah Alcharisi, 262
Judah Hallevi, 13, 34, 152, 162, 208
Judah b. Ilai, 246

Judah Messer Leon, 333
Judah de Modena, 298
Judah the Patriarch, 63, 195
Judah the Pious, 306
Judah b. Tema, 299
Judah b. Yakar, 100
Karab, 124
Kilayim, 87
Kimchi, D., 145
Korban, 124
Krochmal, Nachman, 44, 46, 48-68, 71, 72
Kuenen, 240
Law of Man, 113-115
Laws unto Moses on Mount Sinai, 64

[364]
Lessing, 73
Letteris, M., 56, 57
Levi b. Gershom, 97, 101, 171
Light of God, 167
Lilac of Mysteries, 133
Lilith, 287, 288

Index 331
Lipman of Mühlhausen, 167, 179
Liva of Prague, 78
Lowell, R., 116
Löw, L., 171, 285, 305
Lucas, Mrs. Henry, 135
Macaulay, 89
Maggid, 19
Magnified, 310
Maimonides, or Moses b. Maimon, 13, 48, 49, 68, 70, 78, 97,
100, 102, 103, 111, 126, 130, 133, 140, 161-168,
170-181, 210, 211, 249, 274, 280, 281, 312, 322
Maimonists, Anti-Maimonists, 163-165, 173, 210
Mar Samuel, 84
Mathia b. Chares, 339
Measure of the Stature, 208
Mechilta, 58, 81, 193
Meheram Schiff, 16
Meir, 130, 194, 226, 318
Meir b. Nathan of Trinquintaines, 100
Meir of Rothenburg, 210

Memra, 238
Men of the Great Synagogue, 64, 185
Menachoth, 86
Mendelssohn, Moses, 48, 58, 73, 147, 151, 176
Metatron, 238
Midrash, pl. Midrashim, 61, 64, 71, 81, 193, 195, 222, 262, 272,
273, 304
Milton, 114
Minhag, pl. Minhagim, 143, 192
Minim, 64
Minor Tractates, 81
Mishnah, 57, 64, 66, 76, 78, 82, 85, 87, 91, 157, 190, 193, 195,
271
Mistress of the Synagogue, 317
Moses Cordevora, 133
Moses Ibn Ezra, 262
Moses de Leon, 18, 133, 258, 262
Moses of Tachau, 131
Mother Zion, 321
Nachman, son of Nachmanides, 101

Index 333
Nachmanides, or Moses b. Nachman, 99-141, 213
Nahum of Gemzo, 215
Nasi, 84
Nathan, 194
Nephesh Chayah, 117
Neubauer, Dr. A., 263
Night of Watching, 288
Nissim of Gerona, 133
Nissim of Marseilles, 267
Olam Habba, 115
Old Victory, 304
Oral Law, 10
Orchard, the, 133
Ordinance of the Law, 293
Pablo Christiano, 103, 105, 106
Pairs, the, 185
Paradise Lost, 114
Pardes, 129
Pashut, 138
Path of Belief, 172
Perles, J., 99, 123, 294
Pharisees, 64, 185, 237, 241
Philo, 52, 64, 154, 238
Pilpul Pilpulist, 13, 78
Plato, 78
Pugio Fidei, 107
Raba, 311
Rabbanan Saburai, 206
Rabbah, 311
Rabbenu, 13
Rabbenu Mosheh, 103
Rabbinowicz, R. N. N., 261
Raimund Martini, 107
Rapoport, Solomon Leb, 50, 53, 56, 66
Reggio, Isaac, 270
Roots, the, 171
Ruskin, 328
[365]
Saadiah Gaon, 48, 162, 108, 272
Sacred Letter, 113

Index 335
Sadducees, 64, 185, 237
Salman the Good, 145
Sambatyon, 95
Sanctification-cup, 245
Sandalphon, 305
Sandek, 290
Sanhedrin, the, 188, 190, 191
Saul Berlin, 176, 180
Sayings of the Fathers, Aboth, 262, 299
Schelling, 51
Schiller, 73
Schlummerlied, 295
Schorr, O., 193
Schudt, 291, 298
Sechorah, 296
Seder Nezikin, 58
Seder Olam, 81, 92
Seder Taharoth, 58
Segulah, 122
Sephardim, 301
Sepher, 13
Sephiroth, Ten, 238
Sermon in the Presence of the King, by Nachmanides, 165
Shabbethai Tsebi, 134, 239
Shalom Zachar, 289
Shammai, 185, 188, 237
Shechinah, 120, 121, 228-230
Shema, reading of the, 141, 288
Shemaiah, 186
Shemariah of Crete, 166
Sherira Gaon, 263
Shiphluth, 30
Simchah, 31
Simeon Duran, 101, 170, 171
Simeon b. Eleazar, 289
Simeon b. Gamaliel, 222
Simeon b. Gamaliel II., 193, 194
Simeon b. Yochai, 18, 223
Simlai, 112
Index 337
Siphra, 58, 81, 91, 193, 262
Siphré, 58, 81, 91, 193, 262
Solomon b. Adereth, 70, 267
Solomon b. Gabirol, 210
Solomon of St. Goar, 143-145
Solomon b. Isaac, Rashi, 13, 210
Solomon b. Isaac b. Zadok, 137
Solomon Ladier, 43
Solomon Portaleone, 323
Solomon, son of Nachmanides, 110
Solomon Syrillo, 262
Solomon Wilna, 75
Son of the Law, 307, 312
Sopherim, 64
Spencer, Herbert, 97
Steinschneider, M., 99, 172
Taanith, 58
Talmid Chaber, 52
Talmid Chakam, 7
Talmud (of Jerusalem or Babylon), 16, 19, 33, 49, 52, 57-59,
64, 76, 78, 81, 82, 86, 87, 89, 91, 92, 96, 101,
104, 105, 111, 129, 131, 140, 151, 155, 158, 195,
196, 206, 207, 209, 210, 238, 252, 254-256, 261,
262, 271, 272, 277
Tanna, pl. Tannaim, 17, 84, 187
Tephillin, 249
Thackeray, 282
Thirteen Articles of the Creed, 148, 163, 164, 170, 176, 179
Thirteen Rules (of Interpretation), 195
Tobijah, the Priest, 175
Tosephta, 81, 82, 92, 262, 271
Toy, Prof., 233-239, 251
Tractate Berachoth, 221, 271
Tractate Evidences, 192
Tractate Joys, 194
Tractate Sanhedrin, 156, 157, 159
Tractate Sopherim, 301, 312, 321
Tree of Life, the, 133
Troki, Solomon, 161
Variae Lectiones (of the Talmud), 261

Index 339
Viterbo, Abraham Chayim, 175, 176

Vorsugerin, 324
Wars of the Lord, 101
Watchman, the, 59
Weiss, T. H., 65, 97, 99, 182, 183, 185-187, 191-197, 206, 207,
209-212
Wellhausen, 243
Wisdom of Solomon, 127, 154
Woilkennivdicke, 324
Yediah, 119
Yeshibah, pl. Yeshiboth, 94-96, 293
Yom-Tob Heller, 196
Zaddik, pl. Zaddikim (Zaddikism), 36-44, 53, 298
Zadoc, 245
Zebachim, 86
Zedner, 254-256
Zehub, 137-139
Zerahiah Hallevi of Gerona (or Gerondi), 100, 101, 111
Zion-Elegy, 208
Zobeoth, 314
Zohar, 18, 19, 71, 91, 133, 258
Zunz, Leopold, 44, 52, 56, 60, 65, 73, 97, 183, 279, 305
Footnotes
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STUDIES IN JUDAISM, FIRST SERIES***
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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Studies in Judaism, First Series

Title: Studies in Judaism, First Series

Author: Solomon Schechter

Release Date: May 6, 2015 [Ebook 48890]

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

familiar though it be to the Jewish student, may appear obscure

not entirely novel spectacle, of Agnosticism itself becoming the

at the time when Psalms were still being composed, expands in

in some living body, which, by reason of its being in touch

gious. These men are, however, representative of two extremes,

prophetic notions before they were formally sanctioned. But

dogmas is tantamount to saying that it was wise enough not to

may be useful for those who judge of the heaviness of a work

Throughout the whole of that interesting field of Theological

The Hebrew word “Chassidim”2 merely means “the Pious,”

To the purposes of fiction the romantic side of Chassidism

have their uses in indicating the ideals and in illustrating the

slept, so that he was popularly believed to be both ignorant and

returning to Brody, Abraham died, and Gershon his son, a scholar

the mountains and wander about rapt in spiritual ecstasies. He

Eybeschütz and Emden to concern itself with the vagaries of an

one disciple he revealed secrets which could have become known

Thy Holy Word.

And this Divine Word it was, which a persecuted religion has

them was declared infallible, but also to none of them, as soon

adapted for such propaganda. To that universal study of the Law

In the above estimate of the Polish Rabbis there undoubtedly

but he and his disciples seem to have missed no opportunity of

their original meaning. On this account Baalshem's tears had

the Zohar (Book of Brightness).14 This mystical book, “the Bible

only distinctively Jewish, but that for every part of it parallels

therefore there is good, actual or potential, in all things. It is our

God be far from him. God is regained in a moment of repentance,

prayer. The power of prayer, in the old-fashioned sense, to

His own wife he reverenced as a saint; when she died he

conceived and executed is at once a manifestation and a service

Beauty, and so on—and the explanation of the Torah must be

hast been so wise and good.’ O vanity, vanity! beshrew thee.”

The reader will be prepared to learn that Baalshem, taking this

seem to man as something ordained for him from without; but

exaggerated development of a single point in his teaching. That

The few chosen spirits who through the successful persistency

had got themselves into the proper devotional frame of mind.

The Chassidim were second to no other sect in their loyalty

the Russian authorities, and was thrown into prison. In Russia,

of smuggling, consented to withdraw the charge if he declared

For, apart from the obvious theological considerations already

not led to still more disastrous consequences is solely due to the

may under those circumstances be indifferent, but one can be

of his polemical writings are directed against the Caraites ( ) or

Hebrew literature, must needs be excluded from the programme

ing extract from a Hebrew letter of his disciple, Solomon Leb

him to interrupt his work. He was forced to go to Lemberg to

personality, which made him irresistible to all who came into

Krochmal in the last years of his life; he had already acquired a

be expected to devote only half the day to his business duties,

Wer den Dichter will verstehen

And I am probably expected to give some account of the state

to read twice. Most of them despised Rabbinism, but without

I will now pass to the writings of Krochmal. It must be