Chapter XVI (1)

AWAKENING OF INDEPENDENCE AND THE SCIENCE OF JUDAISM.

Dawn of Self-respect--Research into Jewish History--Hannah
Adams--Solomon Löwisohn--Jost--His History--The
Revolution of July (1830)--Gabriel Riesser--His Lectures--
Steinheim--His Works--His "Revelation"--Nachman Krochmal--
Rapoport--Erter--His Poems--Rapoport's Writings--Zunz--
Luzzatto--His Exegesis--Geiger--The "Nineteen Letters" of
Ben Usiel--New School of Reform--Joel Jacoby.

1830-1840 C. E.

If for a moment fancy is allowed full play, one can imagine, not only that the houses, utensils, and pictures excavated from the ruins of Herculaneum and Pompeii were renewed, but also that the entombed men were suddenly aroused from their sleep of centuries, and enabled to collect their thoughts. If these resurrected Romans could recall their condition when the catastrophe befell them, could conjure up before their mind's eye the splendor of their greatness, remember the mighty institutions which they and their ancestors called into existence, realize the heroic power which the Roman people developed, and if they felt the same power still stirring within them, a not altogether unjustifiable self-esteem would seize them. This supposition is no fantastic idea: a nation actually did arise from the darkness of the tomb, the only example chronicled in the annals of man. This resuscitated people, the Jewish race, endeavored at its resurrection to collect its thoughts and memories, and recall a vision of its glorious past; feeling itself to be at once old and young, rich in memories and lacking in experience, chained to hoary antiquity by a perfect sequence of events, yet seeming as if of yesterday. The Jews first examined the monuments of their intellect, which had influenced the history of nations, and had brought forth a wealth of peculiar products. They served as signposts in the labyrinth of Jewish history. That is the science of Judaism--a vivid realization of its great history, and its peculiar doctrines. This effort of memory is not merely an amusing game, a pleasant pastime, the satisfaction of a desire for knowledge akin to curiosity, but an irresistible impulse of self-examination. It aroused the dormant strength in the breast of the inquirer, and inspired him with self-confidence to act in the future as in the past. Self-consciousness--the consciousness of being the people of God--was awakened in this old, resuscitated nation, and it at once entered into competition with the young nations, to assert its peculiar powers.

But history has not yet gone so far: it only shows that self-respect was awakened; that the Jews no longer blush for their origin and confession; no longer hesitate when questioned about them; no longer, from false shame and their own evil plight, take a false step, pretending belief in a faith certainly more distasteful to them than to those born therein. As if this feeling of self-esteem were to be particularly favored by the generative force of history, there arose from the midst of the Jewish nation artists of great ability--artists in tone and color, and poets of the first rank, who by their steadfastness secured public recognition for their race. This self-respect of the Jews was the outcome of political maturity, the latter in turn being due to the wonderful inventions and the increase of general intelligence during the last decades, but it has chiefly been awakened, strengthened, and fostered by the science of Judaism and the achievements of talented Jews in connection therewith.

Although the history of this period is still in progression--at many points touches the fleeting present--and its results cannot be summed up like those of bygone days, yet the fact cannot be denied that the aim of Jewish life has been the attainment of those two precious acquirements--self-reliance and self-knowledge. These qualities are intimately connected, the one completing and promoting the other. Knowledge of their own experiences and of history enabled the Jews to make a careful, unprejudiced study of the origin and growth of their nationality, and of the peculiarity of their teaching, and to hide and ignore nothing. Insight into their own doctrines increased their self-reliance, and induced them to remove the burdens assumed by the generations that had lived under oppression. The struggles in which the Jews had just been engaged to secure civil, political, and social equality and to bring about the reformation and refinement of Judaism, stand in closest connection with these two qualities--on the one hand, with the better appreciation of their own nature, on the other, with their growing self-reliance--influencing them, or being influenced by them.

Step by step the mountain heaps of obstructive rubbish had to be cleared away, an open space cut out, new building materials procured or collected, before it was possible, to think, not of putting the crowning stone to the edifice, but of erecting the frame of the structure. Unconsciously the entire generation, many members of which are still active, set to work upon this gigantic task, which had not been dreamed of fifty years before, still less considered in any way practicable. Deep but almost unconscious attachment to Judaism on the part of enthusiastic spirits enabled them to attain a goal which must be regarded as a marvel by posterity, even though it has itself advanced beyond it. Jewish science by laborious research and investigations has developed three important points: the course of Jewish history in its long chain of events and its significance, the precious basis of Jewish teaching in all its bearings, and, finally, the enduring faculty of the Jewish race, which defied so many persecutions, rendered certain qualities hereditary, accomplished such wondrous miracles of history, and was the means of bringing salvation to the world. These three aspects, the comprehension of history, of the tenets of Judaism, and of peculiar nationality, were developed one after the other. Each of these branches of knowledge had to be pursued from its commencement, and followed through a long course, and if not brought to a conclusion, it at least reached a state in which it could be clearly grasped and understood.

All nations desirous of asserting their independence and vitality seek to prove their age: they interest themselves in remembrances of the past, and bring to light their ancestral portraits and their armorial bearings, to demonstrate that they have passed through the vicissitudes of fortune and misfortune, the alternations of strength and weakness, victory and defeat, that they have given evidence of intellectual capacity, and therefore may lay claim to continued existence and development. The Jewish people had no need to make search for their famous exploits or the monuments of their intellectual powers; even in their apparently servile condition these were not wanting. Each century proclaimed this fact to the next, and it was only needful to give ear to, or not wholly to disregard this voice amid a crowd of selfish interests. The history of the Jews naturally bore most eloquent testimony to the people's greatness; but it was not easy to present it in its brilliancy. The history of the Jewish nation had been distorted by the thousand unjust prejudices of the ages. Under the cruel persecutions of their tormentors, the Jews could not retain the accumulated reminiscences of their great past; they knew them only in distorted fragments. Christian scholars, attracted by the grandeur of the theme, had indeed formed these disjointed fragments into a picture; but it could not be a true one, seeing that many component parts were wanting. The bright colors had faded, and there was a preponderance of shadow, perhaps intentionally placed there. Even to well-disposed defenders of the Jews, like Dohm and Grégoire, who had zealously studied the annals of Jewish history, they did not give a clear idea of its course. More than a century had elapsed since the worthy French Protestant clergyman, Basnage, after diligently studying Jewish history, had given to the world his somewhat fragmentary researches, when the wife of an American clergyman, Hannah Adams, of Boston, struck by the marvelous fate of the Jewish nation, delineated their history from the time of the return from Babylon to recent days. For many reasons she was not qualified to give an intelligible outline of Jewish history, but could only string together a number of rough sketches without connection or sequence. This crude work, nevertheless, was good enough for the purposes of the London Society for the Promotion of Christianity among the Jews, which besides made several alterations in the book in order to serve its ends. Fidelity to history and truth were entirely disregarded in the changes.

It was high time for Jews to take away the historian's pen from the hands of Christians who only trifled with it. However feeble might be their first attempts, and inadequate though their conception of the peculiarity of Jewish history was, yet it was meritorious to remove the Christian seal, impressed upon it by unconscious forgers, in order to claim it as the property of the Church. The first Jew who bore in his heart the great characteristics of the history of his race, and in part published it, deserves a place of honor. He was a talented youth whose early death was due to insanity, so often the mark of a true poet. Solomon Löwisohn (born in Moor, Hungary, 1789, died 1822) had succeeded under most unfavorable circumstances in acquiring secular culture, and thereby had qualified himself to appreciate the value of his nation's treasures. Löwisohn had a much truer comprehension of the beauty and sweetness of Hebrew poetry, of its sublimity and simplicity, than Herder, because he was better acquainted with it. He regarded the history of his people from the standpoint of poetry, as from that of faith. In his "Lectures upon the Modern History of the Jews," from their dispersion till the present day, he succeeded in unrolling a charming picture. He also distinguished certain important points, and correctly showed the lines to be followed, to avoid losing oneself in this apparent chaos.

Jewish history assumed a better form in the hands of Isaac Marcus Jost (born at Bernburg, 1793; died at Frankfort-on-the-Main, 1860). He had greater courage than a more gifted contemporary, and although not possessed of sufficient resources he undertook the gigantic task, and he deserves credit for having pointed out a way through the vast labyrinth. When the bigoted Teutomaniacs desired to banish the Jews from Teutonic soil, and the Jew-haters searched the pages of history for an excuse to slander them, Jost determined to show them in a better light. He desired to prove that they had always been peaceful citizens and faithful subjects. They had certainly opposed the Roman Emperors, and had maintained a vigorous war against them, but this was the act of a few boisterous brawlers, whose folly should not be visited upon the entire people. On the whole, the Jews had proved themselves honest men, who had not slaughtered Christian children, nor in any way deserved the reproaches leveled against them. Only the Pharisees and their descendants, the rabbis, detestable men, filled with superstition, darkness, and arrogance, had made hell hot for the people, the property of the rabbis. This is the basis of Jost's delineation of Jewish history. He wished to confute at the same time the admirers and the antagonists of Jewish history. No one at the present day can deny the one-sidedness of his representation. Nevertheless Jost performed a real service to his people by his historical labors. He offered something new to his age, and as accurately as possible laid down the indispensable foundations of history--time and space. He cannot be reproached for utilizing the sources of history without having investigated them; his generation was not endowed with the faculty of carefully testing historical evidences. Jost's "History" proved a good guide and instructor to statesmen engaged in the amelioration of the condition of the Jews.

But the main objection to Jost's narrative cannot be disregarded, seeing that even in his old age, and in spite of instructive criticism, he stubbornly pursued his method. He gave to Jewish history, undeniably heroic, a dry, Philistine character, despoiling it of the brightness with which it was endowed even in the eyes of unprejudiced Christian observers. He tore to shreds the heroic drama of thousands of years. Between the old Israelites, the ancestors and contemporaries of the Prophets and Psalmists, and the Jews, the disciples of the rabbis, Jost hollowed out a deep chasm, making a sharp distinction between them, as if the latter were not the descendants of the former, but of entirely different stock. And why? Because Jost, the pupil of Friedländer and Jacobson, denied all miracles, not only those involving changes in the laws of nature, but also such as are brought about through inspiration and steady endurance, the miracles of history, arising out of the peculiar combination of circumstances, blow following on blow, reaction on action. He saw in history only an accumulation of contingencies subject to no law. Therefore the Jews were not to be considered the sons of the Israelites, nor the rabbis the successors of the Prophets, nor the Talmud the outcome of the Bible, otherwise the intervention of miracles had to be conceded.

In Europe, which had fallen into a state of almost glaring stupidity, there now occurred a historical marvel which caused a sensation from one end of the continent to the other. From the serene sky in the West there came a lightning flash; a thunderclap and terrifying crash followed, as if the end of the world had come--the Revolution of July (1830) was indeed a miracle. No one had expected it, or was prepared for it. Even the men who brought it about, and fought in it, were impelled by some dark feeling, were not aware of the force of their actions, were only the blind agents of the Ruler of history.

This revolution affected the Jews and consequently Judaism, like every important change in history. The equalization of the Jews in France, although sealed by the constitution, had suffered somewhat under the two Bourbons, Louis XVIII and Charles X, as the nobility and the Catholic clergy were possessed of great influence, and the officials understood their hint not to be too friendly to the Jews. The reactionary Catholic clergy began to renew their intolerance towards the Jews, and the police displayed hostility to the Jewish ritual. Had the Bourbons been able to gratify their own wishes by discrediting the constitution as well as liberty and equality, the French Jews would have been the first victims, and like their German co-religionists would once more have been placed under exceptional laws. The July Revolution was thus of momentous importance to them. The first assembly of deputies under King Louis Philippe, who desired to execute the Charter, at once considered the abolition of all existing inequalities, however slight, between Jews and Christians. One of the deputies, Viennet, proposed (August 7, 1830) to remove from the constitution the recognition of a state religion. His proposition was supported on all sides. A few months later (November 13) the minister of public education, Mérilhou, brought forward a motion to place Judaism upon an equal footing with the other two creeds, to pay salaries from the public treasury to the Synagogue and the rabbis, as well as to the Church and its ministers. He praised the French Jews, saying that since the removal of their disabilities by the Revolution they had shown themselves worthy of the privileges granted them. He exhorted the deputies to agree to the law of equality for the three creeds. His motion was adopted by a large majority.

In the chamber of peers it was more difficult to pass the law decreeing the equality of Judaism and Christianity. The advocates of the motion were eloquent in their recognition of Jewish virtues. The names of those Jews who had left behind them a glorious reputation in history were mentioned, such as Philo, the representative of Jewish philosophy in ancient times; Maimonides, of that of "the Middle Ages and modern days"; Mendelssohn, "the sage, whom philosophic Germany was in the habit of comparing with Plato."

When the division was taken in the chamber of peers (January 1, 1831), the law for the complete equalization of the Jews was carried by 89 votes to 57. Thus the last barriers between the adherents of Judaism and their Christian neighbors were removed in France. King Louis Philippe, on the 8th of February, ratified the law, which enacted that the French rabbis, like the Catholic and Protestant clergymen, should receive part of their salary from the public exchequer. The High School (Collège Rabbinique) for the training of rabbis, which a short time before had been founded in Metz, was also recognized as a state institution, and partly supported from the public budget. At the same time, the Senate at Frankfort-on-the-Main brought forward a motion to grant civil rights to the Jews, particularly abrogating the limitations to marriage. But of the 90 members of the legislative body, two-thirds voted against it.

The shock caused by the events of July, which was felt also in Germany, awakened a feeling of self-dependence; it dispelled all timidity and false shame in speaking about Jews and Judaism, which had hitherto been avoided, as if a loud word would have precipitated the avalanche of Judæophobia with destructive force. Even Jews belonging to so-called good society, who, for the sake of some material advantage, had been anxious to have people forget that they were members of an oppressed race, and had preferred to conceal or ignore the injustice done them, began to appreciate their own worth and ceased to be ashamed of being recognized as Jews. This change of sentiment manifested in different ways, like every change, was brought about by influential personalities.

Gabriel Riesser (born 1806, died 1860), a man of noble mind and great energy, took a prominent part in awakening this self-respect. However bitter the complaints of the German Jews of the disgrace brought upon them by immigrant Polish Jews, they were amply compensated by Riesser. His spirit of firm determination he derived more from his maternal grandfather, Rabbi Raphael Cohen, who had emigrated from Poland, than from his weak, good-natured German father. Gabriel Riesser in every respect belonged to modern times. Unlike most of the promoters of the new spirit, he was not rooted in the old order of things. His thoughts, feelings, and dreams were German, and only slight traces of his Jewish origin are perceptible. To Judaism in its national form, as the leaven of history, Riesser was indifferent; only the recollections of his youth and his parental home bound him to the faith. Beyond that, he looked upon it as an attenuated system of diluted doctrines, which he tacitly professed without desiring to defend them. He suspected, however, that Judaism might continue to flourish in a rejuvenated healthy form, though he did not define clearly wherein this revival should consist. To promote it was altogether outside his sphere. Had he not been hampered in his chosen vocation, he would have been a quiet German citizen, a conscientious judge or lawyer, without troubling himself to improve the world or rectify a corrupt state of affairs. German Jew-hatred roused him to defend the derided cause of his fellow-sufferers. His first work as a jurist attracted attention, and he tried to become an attorney in his native town, but was rejected. He next sought to deliver lectures upon jurisprudence in Heidelberg, but the professor's chair was refused him likewise. His gentle, peaceable nature revolted against such foolish exclusions. Thus Riesser, who felt no particular call to work for the general good, was driven to become an agitator, not alone for the freedom of his co-religionists, but also for that of the whole German nation. He made it his duty in life to secure equal privileges for the Jews, and to defend them whenever attacked. "The unspeakable sufferings throughout two centuries of many millions of persons who patiently waited for deliverance" weighed heavily upon him. His ideal was Lessing. In his first pamphlet (1831) he spoke with conscious pride, not alone against German rulers, but against the people, who refused permission to the Jews to ascend even the lowest rung on the ladder of distinction. Nor did he spare his co-religionists who, on account of superior education and social position, contemptuously looked down upon the mass of Jews, and were ashamed of the name of Jew. "If unjust hatred," he exclaimed, "clings to our name, should we not, instead of denying it, rather use all our strength to secure honor for it?" He contributed freely towards the removal of the contempt cast upon this name. Riesser aimed chiefly at defending the honor and dignity of the Jews. No selfish attainment of advantages withheld stimulated his action; but a desire to take part in the unceasing contest between freedom and oppression, justice and injustice, truth and falsehood. Filled with indignation he openly represented to the German rulers that the reason for depriving the Jews of their rights as men was the hope that they might thereby be induced to accept baptism. He also reproached the faint-hearted Jews who, having a comfortable position, separated themselves from the main body of their brethren, or by a false confession purchased equality, or handed over their children to the Church to smooth their path through life. Riesser desired to see societies established which should energetically work for the emancipation of the Jews. Sympathizers were to be united in a kind of covenant that, from a sense of honor, they might remain true to their fellow-sufferers, until the contest was decided. Ten years previously the Berlin Society for Culture had not dared to publish such a programme. But between Edward Gans and Gabriel Riesser came the July Revolution. Riesser also invited Christians to join, inasmuch as it behoved well-disposed men of every belief to participate in the release of an enslaved people.

Riesser's words produced their due effect; they came at an opportune moment, when men's minds had become susceptible. His mild though determined utterances made a deeper impression than Börne's with their incisive keenness. The tone of positive certainty with which Riesser foretold the ultimate victory of liberty infused hope into every heart. Various favorable events which now took place appeared to put a seal on his prophecy. For the first time the question of the emancipation of the Jews began to be discussed in the English Parliament, and the chief leaders in the House of Commons were in favor of the removal of the disabilities. A resolution was passed in the Electorate of Hesse, the first German province to legalize the emancipation of the Jews. This gave Riesser courage to pursue his ideal further. He was indefatigable in his efforts for the cause to which he had devoted his life, but he kept in view the honor and credit to be obtained, more than any desire for material gain. Not even the most unimportant ceremony might be sacrificed to obtain rights of citizenship, if they could be procured only at such a cost; a rule which he most emphatically laid down on two occasions.

The Jews of Baden, as a token of their gratitude, presented him with a beautifully designed picture by the Jewish painter Oppenheim, which artistically depicted the transition period in Jewish life, the separation of the old and the new. It was called "The Return of the Jewish Warrior," who is represented as surprising his parents and family in the repose of the Sabbath. In his letter acknowledging this gift, Riesser remarked, "The father is foolish who wishes to wrap his son in the garments of antiquity ... but wanting in dignity is the son ashamed of his father, the generation ashamed of the past." This deeply-rooted feeling was communicated to the younger generation with the more intensity, because it proceeded, not from an official representative of Judaism, but from a lawyer whose being was pervaded by the German spirit. Riesser made the emancipation question popular by his contest with the Judæophobists Paulus, Edward Meyer, Pfizer, Streckfuss, and other driveling enemies of freedom in the German Assemblies of the estates, who utilized the contempt attached to the Jews to bring the whole struggle for liberty into disrepute. Riesser further managed to have the Jewish question placed on the programme of the liberalists. Young Germany, and all who took part against oppression, were thenceforth compelled to inscribe religious liberty and the equality of all classes upon their banner, however great might be their antipathy against the Jews. But Riesser performed a far greater service, by rousing a feeling of dignity in the Jews, and destroying that false shame which so-called cultured people felt at the name of Jew. The sincerity of his convictions and the genuineness of his sentiments, as evinced in every stroke of his pen, opened all hearts to him.

At this time men of commanding intellect were not to be found in great numbers among the Jews; but the younger generation was rich in men of character who, as it were, compensated for the losses occasioned by the Berlin Society for Culture. One of these sterling characters was the bosom friend of Riesser, a physician, Solomon Ludwig Steinheim (born, Altona, 1790; died, Zürich, 1866). His was a highly gifted nature, which dwelt upon the sunny height of thought; and from this eminence the foolish pursuits of the multitude appeared like mist formations, blown hither and thither by the wind.

In Steinheim was revealed, in all its splendor and all its powers of redemption, the Jewish thought--without which Judaism were merely a thousand years' dream--that the Jewish people has a gigantic mission, with which its teachings and fortunes are in consonance. This idea may have been unconsciously aroused in Steinheim by Isaac Bernays. Together with his wealth of thought, Steinheim was skillful in clothing his ideas in an interesting form, and adorning them with his rich gifts of eloquence. He might be compared to Jehuda Halevi, the Castilian poet-philosopher, had he been gifted with higher poetical talents. His first production, "The Songs of Obadiah ben Amos in Exile," displayed germs of the fruitful seed of thought which he disseminated. A Jewish sage, Obadiah, in Egypt, describes to his son Eliakim, supposed to be living at the time of the Ptolemies, the different stages of greatness and abjection through which the Jewish people were to pass.

"It is the design of Providence that a weak people, appointed
to proclaim salvation, shall be persecuted, hunted down, and
sacrificed among millions of enemies throughout thousands
of years, and nevertheless continue alive and active. Our
ancestors received for themselves and their descendants the
consecrated office of the priesthood. The family of Jacob,
since its beginning, has been alternately dispersed and
gathered together, and thus trained for its vocation."

The Jewish people have entered upon their pilgrimage over the surface of the globe, to scatter the luminous seeds of pure worship of God and the ideal of exalted morality. From this moral pinnacle Steinheim beheld the past and the future of Judaism in the clearest light. All riddles were solved, all questions answered; the doctrines and history of Israel afforded satisfactory and comforting replies. The priestly mission of Israel was to be fulfilled through great sufferings; this saviour of the world was compelled to wear a crown of thorns, and to be humbled to the condition of a slave. Steinheim saw the past and the future of Israel as in a magic mirror, bright, clear, and rich in color. Only the present was puzzling to him. The estrangement of the sons of his people from their origin, their despair of themselves, their contempt for their teachings and descent, the daily recurring apostasies and desertion from the flag, appeared to him as omens of approaching downfall, as though the high priests of mankind were secularizing themselves, profaning their sanctity, exchanging their birthright for a mess of pottage. Such self-estrangement and self-debasement Steinheim desired to counteract. He therefore composed his "Songs of Obadiah in Exile," in which he worked out his system.

"Such times are dangerous, when oppression is lessened, but not
altogether removed, or when freedom is near, but not completely
attained. At these periods, to desert the customs of bygone
ages is deemed meritorious and advantageous, while a desire for
transitory benefits gives rise to indifference to the eternal.
This is the time for real lamentation, when every folly is
taken seriously, and every serious thing is considered folly;
when mockery is in every mouth, and insolence and license in
every heart, and when, by reason of satirical laughter, there
is no time for serious matters."

Steinheim's muse severely rebuked the unthinking who seceded from the Jewish religion.

He wished, however, not only to reprove, but also to instruct and convince. He did not address himself to the prosperous, the contented, and the rich, but to "youth with its pains and its ardent longings, its ready sensibility to light and justice." To these he dedicated his book so fertile in thought, "Revelation according to the System of the Synagogue" (February, 1835). Gifted with a philosophical mind, Steinheim submitted the whole system of the law to a searching examination, regarding it as the highest consideration, as the "miracle of miracles," by which alone the restless inquiring human mind can arrive at contentment. Boldly he attempted to give an answer to the question: What is this highly-praised and deeply-scorned Judaism? All Jewish thinkers had been happy in proving that its fundamental principles agreed with the axioms of mental philosophy, or, at least, were not in contradiction to them. If man were left solely to the guidance of reason or of natural philosophy, he would find no clue for his moral actions in the labyrinth of contradictions and uncertainties. It is, therefore, concluded Steinheim, a poor compliment to a religion to say that it is in accord with reason; for the latter is Chronos consuming his own offspring; building up with one hand and destroying with the other. The only religion in accordance with reason is heathenism, or natural religion, in its various modifications--the heathenism which was the origin of so much mischief to morality, in which "robbers, thieves, adulterers, and sodomites found their finest examples in the highest beings." If Christianity renounces its joint origin with Judaism, the fashion since Schleiermacher and Hegel, it thereby sinks to the lowest depths of heathenism. Love and hatred, Ahriman and Ormuz, Christ and Satan, with all variations of the opposing principles, the eternal substance about which the two powers are ever contending, and inexorable necessity--these are the fundamental ideas of natural religion: man himself succumbs under the suffering inflicted by necessity:

"Through eternal, immovable, mighty laws
Must we all complete the circle of our existence."

"Like the gods, so are their priests and sages: like king, like herd."

In opposition to this sensual or perhaps refined heathenism comes Judaism with its totally different mode of thought. It sets up a personal God who is not identical with Nature, and is not divided into two principles: it recognizes a "Creatio ex nihilo," without an eternal substance. It lays stress upon free will, consequently upon man's responsibility for his moral actions. These truths and others have not been evolved by human reason, nor could they be so evolved; they had been revealed upon Sinai. Although they were alien to reason, yet they are so clear and convincing that it soon accepts them, displacing the contradictory phases of thought regarding the perplexing natural phenomena, whose laws reason cannot explain. Sinai, with its lightning-flashes, shed both light and warmth over the world, clearness of thought and moral purity. The synagogue forms a sharply defined antithesis both to mythological religion and the church. "Out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord out of Jerusalem": with inspired enthusiasm Steinheim subscribed to these prophetic, half-fulfilled words. When he had discovered, or thought he had discovered, the soul of Judaism, Steinheim became filled with ardent zeal, a striking phenomenon in a time of sober speculation. This love for Judaism so illumined his mind and facilitated his understanding of the past, that he even learned to value the activity and energy of the greatly despised rabbis.

In his "Revelation" Steinheim revealed many truths, or rather, he brought to light ancient truths which had been ignored or forgotten. No one either in his own or in the preceding age understood the fundamental principles of Judaism so thoroughly as he did, although several of his hypotheses and inferences cannot be completely established. He, however, made but a slight impression upon his contemporaries, although he set forth the grandeur of Judaism with almost prophetic inspiration, and in an attractive manner. Whence came his isolation? It arose from the fact that the life and actions of Steinheim did not accord with his thoughts and sentiments. In agreement with his words, he ought to have become intimately associated with the Synagogue which from ignorance "became daily more deserted," to have participated in its woes and ignominy, to have joined in the celebration of its days of festivity and sadness, and to have clothed himself with the pride of those who were externally slaves, but in their hearts freemen. But Steinheim did nothing of the kind: he kept himself aloof from the Jewish community and Jewish life. What he correctly recognized as the reason of the resistance to the doctrines of Judaism, "the simplicity and servile condition of its adherents," repelled even him.

"The name of the people, which has become its guardian, has
degenerated into a by-word, and now it is demanded that a
doctrine shall be accepted whose supporters are given up to
hatred, contempt, and persecution."

To renounce Judaism altogether, like Heine, Edward Gans, and many others, appeared to Steinheim dishonorable and wanton; and he therefore remained externally faithful. But, although he had recognized the truth that the mission of Israel consisted in being not only priests, but also sacrifices, he did not permit this knowledge to influence his course of life. This was not due to weakness of character in Steinheim, but to insufficient knowledge of Judaism in its many-sidedness. In spite of his predilection for its intellectual treasury, he was more at home in every other subject than in Jewish literature.

A deeper knowledge of Judaism was unexpectedly aroused in a country which cultured Jews like Riesser and Steinheim were accustomed to despise. As it was formerly asked, What good can come out of Galilee? so now it was said, What good can come out of Poland? Yet, from this very place there came fruitful seeds which developed into healthy blossoms. Two men especially, Nachman Krochmal and Solomon Jehuda Rapoport, profitably employed the knowledge gained in Germany. Both seemed destined to fill a gap, to which the scholars of Jewish science in Germany and France were unequal. They dug solid ore from the mines inaccessible in these countries, and showed how to procure and work it. They stirred up a spirit of rivalry, which within the short space of three decades, was instrumental in removing the ruins covering the great past of Judaism, and in bringing to light the Divine image hidden beneath. They were the founders of a new school, which may be called the Galician.

Nachman Cohen Krochmal (born at Brody, 1785; died at Tarnopol, 1840), the son of a well-to-do merchant interested in science, who was accustomed to make journeys to Germany, caught up the pale, dying light of the Mendelssohn school. Mendelssohn was the ideal upon which Krochmal modeled himself. Married at the age of fourteen, and transplanted to the little village of Zolkiew, where the method of instruction so destructive to science was still in vogue, Krochmal secretly became absorbed in the study of Hebrew literature. He also tried to obtain the writings of the German philosophers, especially of Kant, in order to expand and clear his mind with earnest thoughts. The more the strict Talmudists and heretic-hunting Chassidim of Poland endeavored to discover those who occupied themselves with works other than the Talmud or Kabbala, or who read a non-Hebraic book, in order to denounce them--the more did Krochmal and his fellows enjoy their stolen pleasure. Along with a mass of knowledge from the Talmud, Krochmal stored up many thoughts of a character hostile to Talmudism. But open war was never declared. Krochmal, probably on account of his health, enfeebled by continued mental activity, was too timid to venture out of the beaten track: he avoided disputes, and followed all the superstitiously pious Polish customs, exaggerating them indeed, in order not to jeopardize his peace of mind. He was too earnest and too prudent to overstep the bounds of habit; nevertheless, he could not altogether escape suspicion. He had carried on a harmless correspondence with a Karaite Chacham in the neighboring village of Kukizow. Certain pious persons knew this, and represented that he was hatching a conspiracy against the Talmud with the Karaites. They obtained one of his letters from the unsuspecting Karaite, endeavored to extract heresies from the innocent compliments paid his correspondent in verse, and spread it throughout the large community of Lemberg in order to excite the mob against him. This intrigue greatly affected Krochmal, and becoming yet more timid and cautious, he locked up his thoughts within his own breast, and for a long time could not be induced to publish anything.

But he revealed the treasures of his mind to his trusty friends and disciples, not within treacherous walls, but in the open field. His hearers, schooled in the Talmud, and accustomed to unravel dark and difficult problems, quickly understood his hints without diffuse explanations. By his laconic method Krochmal could turn everything topsy-turvy, and unfold a series of investigations, every link of which, if made public, would have stamped him in the eyes of his countrymen as a wicked heretic. What made his method of instruction and his investigations especially fruitful, was the clearness and finish of his thoughts, which were arranged in admirable sequence. Thus his teaching was a wholesome antidote to the chaotic contradiction and confusion from which the best Polish minds greatly suffered. His acquaintance with German philosophy had schooled his mind, and taught him logical discipline. Krochmal did not develop original philosophic thoughts, which he nevertheless seems to have thought his strong point. He was the first to take a philosophical view of history, especially Jewish history, and make a clear survey of its intricacies. He also pointed out how the mine of the Talmud could be utilized, and rendered valuable in historical research. Krochmal himself devoted his attention to this neglected and little valued literature, and applied his results to the elucidation of Jewish history. He succeeded in throwing so much light on the period from the Babylonian Captivity until the conclusion of the Mishnah, which Jost and Christian scholars had completely failed to understand, that it was an easy task for succeeding inquirers to follow in his path. He was the first to teach scholars to examine Talmudical sources of history through a microscope, or to reproduce half-obliterated features. This was, indeed, a great gain, and an immense advance compared with Jost's clumsy view of history. Krochmal's results do not always bear investigation, because having no access to non-Hebraic writings, he was obliged to content himself with secondary or tertiary sources. But his acuteness and sincere devotion to this study, did not allow him to stray from the right track often. He inspired his disciples to engage in research, and gave them the key to these hieroglyphic sources. Although he had not yet published many of his discoveries, his fame extended beyond the boundaries of his own country. The community of Berlin, which since the time of Friedländer had felt deep aversion to Poles and rabbis, entertained the idea of calling him as their rabbi. He was considered one of the leaders of the young science of Judaism, and had many admirers in Germany.

The most receptive and gifted among his disciples, Solomon Jehuda Rapoport (born Lemberg, 1790? died Prague, 1867), contested with him for preëminence, and even overshadowed him, partly by reason of his more fertile productions. Rapoport was descended from a respected Jewish family, a race of learned rabbis, one of whose branches had been transplanted from Italy to Poland. Traces of his hereditary nobility were apparent in his bearing and appearance. Of a gentle nature, which won for him all hearts, having a fund of genial humor, and of a sociable disposition, Rapoport was a well-beloved and attractive person in every circle. These qualities softened the severity of his astonishing learning. Nothing of especial importance occurred during his youth. At an early age he was admitted to the study of the Talmud, and soon was at home in its labyrinths, owing to his extraordinary memory and penetrating acuteness. He also married young.

During his youth, Rapoport became partly false to Talmudical study, inasmuch as he favored its rivals--science and poetry. He has graphically described the painful path trodden by him and his peers in order to arrive at the tree of knowledge. It was difficult to obtain any scientific book, most difficult to secure one written in a European language. The index of books prohibited by public opinion was much more comprehensive than that of the popes. If one thirsting for knowledge secretly procured such a book, and it was scented out by the prying eyes of his relatives or friends, he was implored to throw it aside, or his friends, on their own responsibility, confiscated the heretical work, so as to preserve the student from fanatical persecution by the Chassidim. Even clear-minded men were doubtful whether, according to the Talmud, the study of profane sciences was not forbidden.

Rapoport was not alone in his longing for knowledge. Here and there, in Galicia, the germs of a fresh spirit awoke, which struggled hard to remove the yoke of an unthinking, fanatical public opinion. Intercourse with Vienna, the Napoleonic wars, in general, communication with the world, caused many old forms to fall into abeyance. The spread of the Chassidistic cult and its presumptuous, outrageous, and increasingly frantic actions, stimulated thoughtful, reasonable men to meet it with firm opposition, for it filled them with passionate hatred, and drove them to invent expedients whereby to crush it. The most appropriate method seemed to be to remove the boorish ignorance in religious and secular matters and the childlike credulity, by means of education. Although the Austrian government had declared it a duty of the Galician congregations to establish schools, the lower officials had not shown much zeal in causing this order to be carried into effect. This neglect was to some extent advantageous, as the self-deliverance of the Jews was the more effectual by reason of the struggle undergone. Since the wars with Napoleon, there had arisen small circles in the three largest Galician communities of Brody, Lemberg, and Tarnopol, banded together for self-culture, the promotion of education, and a war of annihilation against Chassidism. The beginning of this movement was made in Tarnopol by Joseph Perl (born at Tarnopol, 1773; died, 1839). With great sacrifice of time and money, and with unswerving perseverance, he founded a pattern High School for the middle classes. He made incisive attacks upon the Chassidim in a work, intentionally written in a corrupt, barbarous jargon, which was in no way inferior to "The Letters of Obscure Men" in the monkish Latin of Rubianus and Hutten, perhaps slightly more artistic. This bitter enemy of the Chassidim entered into communication with the Jewish representatives of education in Germany, and was elected an honorary member of the Berlin Society for Culture. In Brody, where Jews engaged in extensive foreign trade, the rich merchants, who traveled in Germany and Austria, introduced the desire to imitate the German Jews. In Lemberg, where Rapoport lived, a kind of literary circle was founded, at whose head was a wealthy, highly-cultured man, Jehuda Löb Mises (died 1831). He provided ambitious young men in Lemberg with money, counsel, and, what was of especial value to them, with an excellent library of Hebrew and European books.

From this circle arose an admired scholar, who deserves a golden page in the records of Jewish literature. This was Isaac Erter, born in a village near Przemysl, 1792, and died at Brody, 1851. He who by means of his magic poetry succeeds in showing the powers of renaissance dormant in a so-called dead language, unconsciously also demonstrates the vitality of the race in whose midst such artistic creations can arise, and can by many be understood, and admired. Erter's object was to scourge the perversity of Polish Judaism, the chaos of superstition and learning, and the coarseness of the Chassidim; but by the noble form in which he clothed his scorn and his righteous indignation he attested the immortality of the Hebrew language and people. Born in a wretched Galician village, he created beautiful Hebrew pictures, such as would have delighted Isaiah and the most refined Psalmists. Erter's father, though a poor man, little more than a peasant, had nevertheless not neglected the sacred duty of a Jew to have his talented son instructed in Jewish writings. The Talmud, to be sure, was the only work with which young Erter was thoroughly acquainted. Of the beauties of biblical poetry, like all Jews of Poland at that time, he had no idea in his youth. When he was thirteen years old his father imposed the bonds of marriage upon him, and shortly afterwards, having become a widower, the boy married a second wife. His second father-in-law, who had promised to support him, did not keep his word, and thus Erter tasted the bread of misery in his youth. To dispel his bitter cares he joined the merry Chassidim, taking part in all their follies; but his innate love of the beautiful made him feel disgust at the sight of their moral and physical degradation, nor could he believe in their miracles. A fortunate accident acquainted him with a cultured man, who introduced him to two ideals, Maimuni and Mendelssohn, and so he learned to understand, love, and imitate the highest models, viz., the prophet Moses and Hebrew literature. A new spirit was breathed into Erter by this old, still ever new revelation, working a change in his views and his relation to Judaism. To increase his culture Erter betook himself to Lemberg, where he hoped to find better means for satisfying his thirst for science. Here he found struggling sympathizers of his own age, who, like himself, had married early, had been tortured by material cares, but had nevertheless directed all their energies to the cultivation of the mind. Here he met Rapoport, to whom as the more learned he looked up with reverence. There was a peculiar charm in the intercourse of these young knowledge-seekers, each at once master and pupil. Whatever was beautiful and true in European literature they elaborated, for their own use and that of others, in the Hebrew language, which they employed as if it were a living language. The difficulties which members of this circle could not overcome were submitted to the wise master, Krochmal, and to him they made pilgrimages to Zolkiew as to a wizard. This intellectually idyllic life, which they remembered even in their old age as a golden dream, lasted for three years. But their occupation with profane literature and their actions and aims gave great offense.

One day a ban of excommunication (in the name of Rabbi Jacob Orenstein) was found affixed to the gates of the synagogue. It was directed against four men, who were said to teach the young their heretical views, viz., Rapoport, Erter, Natkes, and Pastor. The formal excommunication, customary in olden days, had been forbidden in Galicia since the time of Emperor Joseph: therefore the zealots chose this method. At the time when they had brought Krochmal under the accusation of heresy, they had determined to make a vigorous onslaught upon all apostles of culture. But, seeing that the ban was directed only against these four poor men, and that they dared not attack the wealthy, respected Mises, who openly poured ridicule upon Talmudical Judaism, their cowardice rendered their zeal ineffectual. The sentence of excommunication did not have the expected result, and Orenstein was compelled by the Austrian authorities to withdraw it. It hardly affected Rapoport, who had a fairly independent, if somewhat inferior position, and who had instructed the young gratuitously. In the eyes of the common people, however, he was a heretic; but this did not hinder him from becoming district rabbi of Tarnopol and afterwards chief rabbi of Prague.

Poor Erter, however, was severely affected, because he had to support himself and his family by teaching. Although the rabbi was obliged to recall the ban, Erter found that many parents did not care to entrust their sons to him, and he had to take up his staff and journey to Brody. But he had his revenge upon Orenstein and the zealots: he immortalized their bigotry and pettiness by his poetry. Indignation and anger at being persecuted by such tormentors forced the pen into his hand, and gave rise to his masterpieces of delineation. Erter harmed Orenstein with his poetical thunders of excommunication more severely than he himself had been made to suffer, and completely crushed him. In a poem he represented a court of justice which determined the value of objects from a standpoint dissimilar to that of the actual world. Books of immense size shrink to nothing, because their contents prove to have been stolen from various quarters, and the plagiarism is discovered; only the title-page remaining the property of the author. This satire was aimed at Orenstein, who had published a Rabbinical work in many volumes, which he was said to have adorned with borrowed plumes.

Börne and Heine would certainly never have credited it, had they heard that, hidden away in Poland, among the bearded Jews, there lived a brother artist "as capable of making filigree-work of finest words, of weaving a wire-net for the souls of gnats, or pointing a satire so sharp that it could penetrate through the pores of glass." As they had improved, refined, and polished the German language, so Erter improved the Hebrew tongue. He breathed youthful vigor and freshness into "the old woman with silvery hair and wrinkled brow, who showed only traces of her former beauty" (as he says), made her susceptible to the prevailing influences of the day, and docile to express new thoughts. Was Erter a poet? In his prose he was a perfect poet. In his faithful and touching descriptions, there is a store of magic poetry and humor, which, like the offspring of Heine's wit, attracts and enchains our minds.

Two thousand years after the prophets had ceased, there arose a voice which sounded at once familiar and new. And in this intermingling of the old and the new in Erter's style, which recalls Isaiah and Heine, there lies an extraordinary charm. Faithfully translated, Erter's poems would still be interesting; but the peculiar, indescribable fragrance of his work would have passed away. In their original form and color, in the contrast of solemnity and childlike simplicity, of sublimity and detailed description, these poetical productions make an inexpressibly pleasant impression upon minds susceptible to delicate shades of thought. In perusing these masterly delineations, one only regrets that they are not longer, and that this profound artist left no more than six of these delightful pictures, and only a few equally beautiful letters.

Like a true poet, Erter had come too late at the distribution of the world's goods, and had to contend with poverty. In his thirty-third year, when he already had marriageable daughters, he began to study medicine, in order to earn his daily bread therewith. The time spent in efforts to rejuvenate the Hebrew language had to be snatched from sleep, and death hurried him away in the full maturity of his poetical powers. Erter performed great services for Judaism. Through his proofs of the flexibility of the Hebrew language he awakened fresh love for it, and created a comparatively new medium for disseminating the young science of Judaism. His influence upon his contemporaries is unmistakable. Whilst the Hebrew style of Nachman Krochmal was rugged, awkward, almost as stiff as that of the Tibbonides, and reads like a translation from a foreign language, Rapoport, Natkes, Jacob Solomon Byk, the Goldbergs, father and son, and the younger men of the Galician school, displayed flow of language, fluency, and ease, which were afterwards misused in rendering French novels and conceits into Hebrew.