LIBRARY 
 
 OF THB 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class 
 
) 
 
Judaism and Its History 
 
 IN TWO PARTS 
 
 By 
 
 Dr. Abraham Geiger 
 
 Rabbi of the Israelite Congregation at Frankfort on the Main.. 
 
 Translated from the German 
 By 
 
 Charles Newburgh 
 
 The Bloch Publishing Co. 
 
 New York 
 
^. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 / 
 
 y^ 
 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress In the year 1911 
 
 By CHARLES NEWBURGH 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
Preface to the First Edition. 
 
 The following pages owe their origin to a Course of 
 Lectures before a limited audience of educated persons. As 
 they met with friends among those, so they seek them now 
 among an educated public at large. 
 
 Ought subjects of such serious, profound importance as 
 those considered in these pages to venture into the vast 
 market of life, if their treatment claims to present new results 
 gained from new points of view? It can not be contested 
 that the results which science has apparently established with 
 the aid of all the means at her command, should be made the 
 property of all educated people. But as long as such proof 
 has not been furnished in full, would it not be preposterous 
 to drag them before the public at large? I have seriously 
 considered these doubts. For the views expressed herein 
 differ in important points from those generally prevailing, and 
 I have thus far not had the opportunity to substantiate all 
 of them so fully as to be able to refer to works previously 
 published. I can only refer to my book, "The Original Text 
 and Versions of the Bible," to my essay, "Sadducees and 
 Pharisees," and a few other shorter articles published in my 
 " Jewish Review for Science and Life " and in other periodicals. 
 Notwithstanding those doubts, I could not resist the tempta- 
 tion presented by a finished manuscript. Considering that 
 life is short and time is fleeting, I think myself to have the 
 permission of saying with the wise Hillel, "Praise to God, 
 day by day." It is not always advisable to defer and repress 
 that which we deem useful until, perchance, it might become 
 more useful. It shall remain the literary task of my life to 
 elaborate, in closer connection and more exhaustively, the 
 historical views presented in these pages. In the mean time I 
 trust that they may in their present form disclose the back- 
 ground, afford an insight into the serious studies upon which 
 they are based, and make them sufficiently clear for those 
 acquainted with the subject-matter and the original sources. 
 
 On the other hand, the very importance of the questions 
 
 228526 
 
' 4/' : '- •' ' • • • ' -' ' ' Judaism and Its History 
 
 treated upon, as they require on the one side a thorough and 
 cautious consideration, may on the other side even involve 
 the demand not to withhold too long our own views gained 
 by honest research. The questions are, after all, on every 
 lip, and the man can least be exempted from answering them 
 of whose official and literary position such answers may pre- 
 eminently be expected and demanded. Historical facts must 
 be explained for everyone, because they are the sources 
 whence convictions, rules for belief and practice are derived. 
 How then under such circumstances, and especially in our 
 time, characterized by mental and spiritual commotion, could 
 the impulse to a publication of one's own attempted solution 
 be repressed? May, then, my views also mingle with the 
 crowd of diverging opinions and testify for themselves. 
 
 To provide them with a passport in the form of extensive 
 proofs and citations would be entirely out of place in a 
 preface. Yet one thought I desire to recommend to the con- 
 sideration of my readers. Just because the events treated 
 upon herein have exercised a lasting influence, views have 
 been formed of them which are regarded as completely 
 settled, so that any deviation from them appears as highly 
 extraordinary. Most men find it difficult to transpose them- 
 selves, regardless of the later conceptions, into the very time 
 of the events and tendencies then prevailing, and to consider 
 with open eyes that which then actually existed, and not that 
 which it became in the views of a later period. Men are so 
 accustomed to identify the present mode of thinking, which 
 has been developed in the course of two thousand years, with 
 that then existing; words and terms which at the time when 
 first used, had quite a different meaning, are now taken in a 
 sense which was gradually attributed to them and is now 
 prevailing. Hence, when we read the ancient writings 
 containing those expressions, according to the modern use 
 of language, we must necessarily arrive at gross miscon- 
 ceptions; nevertheless, resistance is made, whenever the 
 original meaning is demonstrated and the whole mode of 
 thinking at that time elucidated accordingly. The terms 
 Pharisees^ this worlds the world to comet ihe kingdom of God^ 
 
Preface to the First Edition 5 
 
 and the like, belong, according to my settled conviction, to 
 that class of words whose meanings have undergone an 
 important change. I appeal therefore, to impartial exami- 
 nation, in order that it may gain the strength to wean itself 
 from traditional prejudices and acquire the insight to view 
 properly into historical events long past. If it be conceded 
 that two thousand years have not vanished away without 
 leaving their traces in the entire process of thought of man- 
 kind, it is absurd to allege that ideas and words which through- 
 out such a period liave exercised a decisive influence upon 
 thought and practice, had no other meaning in former times 
 and were not changed as to their significance with the change 
 of external conditions and sentiments. Yet, if we desire to 
 comprehend Antiquity, we must understand its mode of 
 thought and speech, and not measure it by our own standard. 
 How far my views will meet with approval, time naturally 
 will show ; I am prepared for opposition from some quarters. 
 Whenever it shall be presented to me with quiet and soberness, 
 I shall examine it with all candor and wilHngly confess all 
 errors proven; but I shall also persist in the truth of my 
 conviction and, if need be, defend it whenever I regard it as 
 well founded. Irritation can not affect me. Through labors 
 of many years in the domain of the life and science of Judaism 
 I have acquired the experience that opposing scorn to many 
 an unaccustomed expression could not prevent its extensive 
 general recognition at a later time. If I have also entered 
 the domain of Christianity as far as the subject of these 
 lectures required it, and have unhesitatingly presented con- 
 victions which may be now and then in sharp conflict with 
 those ordinarily current, every fair-minded thinker will soon 
 recognize that I have not done so wantonly nor from insidious 
 hostility, but because I was forced into it by the necessity 
 for authentification of my own conviction, while laboring in 
 the cultivation of my own soil. It is high time that Jews 
 should openly declare how they understand events from the 
 very consideration of which comes the difference of the two 
 religions. If free expression of opinion is both a right that 
 must not be denied, and a duty that must not be neglected, 
 
6 Judaism and Its History 
 
 an opponent should even be glad when contradiction presents 
 an open front, so that he may know whither to direct his 
 mental weapons during the contest, and is not compelled to 
 grope in uncertain darkness in warding off hidden attack from 
 the ambush of silence. With zealots who regard every 
 contradiction as blasphemy, every view different from their 
 own as damnable, and who would therefore close its mouth ; 
 who love to strengthen the weakness of their arguments by 
 the violence of their proceeding — with such zealots, considera- 
 tions like those mentioned will have no weight; with calmness, 
 I look forward to condemnation by them. And for their use, 
 I say: I alone and exclusively bear the responsibility of all I 
 have said in these lectures. How many or how few of my 
 co-religionists share my views, I do not know. Hence, I make 
 exclusive claim to the entire honor of being attacked. My 
 words must not afford a pretext for an accusation against Jews 
 and Judaism. But should that, nevertheless, be done under the 
 hypocritical pretence of piety, a new, sad example would be 
 shown of the value placed in certain circles — I will not say 
 upon the vaunted word of love, but in general — upon justice 
 and fairness. 
 
 If I have here added a few words to what I have declared 
 in the lectures, I owe yet an explanation for all omissions. 
 Originally it had not been my intention to give such scanty 
 review, as is contained \ii the twelfth lecture, to the long 
 period from the destruction of the Second Temple to the 
 present time. The narrow limit of time only, and the num- 
 bers of the lectures ultimately made that brevity a necessity. 
 But I trust that I shall meet no serious blame on that account. 
 The earlier period remains the foundation and could not yield 
 to a shorter consideration than has been given to it. For the 
 present, the survey of that later period may be regarded as 
 a preliminary account of the transition to the present time. 
 To be able to present this period also according to its funda- 
 mental ideas and decisive events in a similar manner, in a 
 new course of lectures, is a hope to the realization of which I 
 look forward with delight. 
 
 May these leaves, then, borne by favorable breezes, reach 
 the hands of appreciative readers. Geiger. 
 
 Frankfort on the Main, March ii, 1864. 
 
Preface to the Second Edition. 
 
 Faster than I had expected, the demand for a second 
 sdition has appeared. The fact is to me a glad guaranty 
 that the book has not lacked notice in wider circles of educated 
 persons, and probably found attention and approval, too. If 
 the organs of criticism have so far kept silent about it, I am 
 far from interpreting their silence as intentional in a demon- 
 strative sense, neither does that give me reason to assume 
 that the book made no impression. Besides a few short 
 notices, three notable papers have published lengthy discus- 
 sions last year; viz.. Die Grenzboten (No. 41), Die Augs- 
 burger Allgemeine Zeitung (Supplement No. 321), and 
 Steinschneider's Hebrew Bibliography (No. 42). Their 
 verdict was not an agreement in all parts with the views of 
 the author, yet at any rate such a one as is declared upon 
 something worth noticing. The reviewers differed widely 
 among themselves, so that their verdicts often mutually cancel 
 each other in surprising manner. It appeared to one of them 
 that my remarks on Renan and Strauss touched them but 
 very little, while the other one found that I had thrown 
 strong light upon their central points. If this one thought 
 proper to designate my review of some sayings of Jesus as 
 subtle, the third was of the opinion that just that view would 
 meet with most approval. The last one again emphasized 
 the doubt expressed by myself, whether views ought to be 
 offered in popular presentation to the public at large before 
 being scientifically authenticated by all parties ; and this with 
 a certain amount of reproachful aside. In contradiction to 
 that, the first one declares that whoever knows my other 
 scientific labors, would find nothing new in the book. The 
 reviewer of the Allgemeine Zeitung seems to enjoy, relative 
 to that point, a naive ignorance which behaves in the manner 
 of self -admiration or arrogance, belonging to that mental 
 plane. 
 
8 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Considering those contradictions in which the preliminary 
 representatives of public opinion are moving, and considering 
 the mere indicatory manner by which, notwithstanding 
 greater detail, they rather touch the results, without entering 
 deeper into examination of those and the investigations 
 leading to them, I have no cause for making essential changes 
 in the book. From the surprise expressed by the Christian 
 reviewers at my giving to Judaism both in Antiquity and in 
 relation to Christianity, continuous justification of existence 
 as a religious force and a future and a mission for the future 
 — from that surprise they will gradually recover. To be 
 shaken out of a prejudice in which one has been comfortably 
 rocked, is inconvenient. But that can not induce me to 
 cease from designating the prejudice, spread ever so far, as 
 prejudice, and I feel neither desire nor need of working over 
 a book which has proceeded out of the author's inmost mental 
 and spiritual life, as long as my presentation has not been 
 proven erroneous. I have therefore limited myself in this 
 edition to smoothing occasional crudities in expression. I can 
 now point more definitely to a supplement, because a course 
 of lectures which I am delivering this winter is continuing 
 the consideration of the history into the Middle Ages and 
 will be published later. 
 
 Meanwhile, may the book begin its journey for the second 
 time, and gain new friends in addition to the old ones. 
 
 Geiger. 
 
 Frankfort on the Main, January 15 1 186$ » 
 
Contents. 
 
 Page 
 
 Preface to the First Edition 3 
 
 Preface to the Second Edition 7 
 
 First Lecture : On the Nature of Religion 13 
 
 Second Lecture: Religion in Antiquity and Religion in 
 
 Judaism 24 
 
 Third Lecture: Revelation 39 
 
 Fourth Lecture: Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 49 
 
 Fifth Lecture: Sacrificial Service and Priesthood, 
 
 Divided Nationality 61 
 
 Sixth Lecture: Exile and Return, Tradition 77 
 
 Seventh Lecture: Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees. . 90 
 
 Eighth Lecture : Sadducees and Pharisees, The World to 
 
 Come, Hillel 106 
 
 Ninth Lecture: Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 122 
 
 Tenth Lecture: Evolution of Christianity 137 
 
 Eleventh Lecture : Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World 
 
 Power. The Destruction of Jewish Nationality 152 
 
 Twelfth Lecture: In the Dispersion 163 
 
 Appendix: A Glance at the Latest Works on the Life of 
 
 Jesus 179 
 
First Part 
 
 Closing with the Destruction of the Second Temple 
 
 In Twelve Lectures, with an Addition 
 
 "Renan and Strauss" 
 
Judaism and Its History. 
 
 L 
 
 On the Nature of Religion, 
 
 If I ask your attention for a series of Lectures on Judaism, 
 its essence, formation, development, its relation to similar 
 appearances in history, on the mission which it undertook to 
 fulfill and the manner in which it has fulfilled it, on the mission 
 which still remains to it, both for the present and a long 
 future — the subject, presenting a grand world-historic phe- 
 nomenon, may well demand your sympathy. A grand, 
 world-historic phenomenon — not conveying the idea that 
 Judaism, like many other historic phenomena, entered upon 
 the world's stage for a certain time, and during that time 
 exerted great influence, but as something finite, disappeared 
 again and has become merely a subject for historical con- 
 sideration. No, we may call it a world-historic phenomenon 
 as an institution reaching back into that period whence 
 historical knowledge began for the world, having not only 
 existed for thousands of years and still existing, but because 
 passed, as it were, as an immortal traveler through history, 
 continuously accompanying history and co-operating with 
 history from its very beginning to this day. A world-historic 
 phenomenon, because it had given birth to kindred phenomena, 
 Christianity and Islam, and projected them into history as 
 grand energies which exerted their transforming, vivifying 
 effect upon great multitudes, ruled the whole tendency of 
 their mind and affected the entire development of the con- 
 ditions and of Judaism too, through them. And notwith- 
 
14 Judaism and Its History 
 
 standing Judaism presents such a world-historic phenomenon 
 — may claim such great importance — notwithstanding, or 
 perhaps on that very account, the opinions expressed con- 
 cerning it are most conflicting ; the importance of Judaism is 
 denied out and out, or it is asserted that it has lost all 
 importance a long time ago, or at least for our time. 
 
 Judaism, such is the first assertion, is a Religion ^ is one 
 of the various forms in which religion presents itself in the 
 life of man, inhistory;but religion itself is something beyond 
 which we have progressed. Obscure, blind belief, hypotheses 
 that can not be proven and should not be proven, which the 
 human mind can not master, but which take possession of it 
 and subjugate it — such conceptions have been relegated to 
 the rear, long ago. Such ideas may have been very appro- 
 priate for a time when mankind was yet in its parliest infancy, 
 groping its way in attempts to understand its environment, 
 while the premises were lacking by which it might have 
 arrived at knowledge. But we are the knowing ones, we 
 have already reached such an eminence as affords us the 
 means to pronounce the most decided judgment so that we 
 are no longer fit subjects for blind belief and submission. 
 But granted even that religion may still claim in our time 
 some authority, that it embraces higher truths which man 
 evolves from his own mind, higher truths concerning God, 
 the human soul, freedom of will, immortality, virtue, etc., 
 and that those truths, arranged in compact order may be 
 designated as a System of Religion; what validity can be 
 adjudged to the claim pre-eminently asserted by Judaism and 
 after its manner also by other religions, the claim to Revelation^ 
 through the medium of which those truths have reached the 
 mind without being produced by it; the claim that those 
 truths made their appearance within mankind in an extra- 
 ordinary manner and have thus been handed down without 
 being reproduced anew by each and every generation. We 
 have conquered for ourselves the autonomy of the mind ; all 
 claims raised against it, such as Judaism raises, are unjustified, 
 and still more so when the turbid admixture of tradition is 
 added to be also received as a truth. Or does Judaism 
 
On the Nature of Religion 15 
 
 perchance repudiate revelation and tradition? Does it want 
 to be satisfied with the glory of having first proclaimed those 
 sublime truths that have become common property of 
 mankind — that it was the first to clearly enunciate ideas 
 which are destined for all mankind and have completely 
 taken possession of it? Be it so! Let it rejoice in that 
 glory! But so runs the further assertion, even this glory can 
 not be granted to it undiminished. The truths, as enunciated 
 by Judaism, are imperfect; other, later religions have given 
 them proper profundity and made them perfectly clear, on 
 one side filling all gaps in magnificent manner, and on the 
 other side, removing all superfluous matter and correcting all 
 errors. Accordingly, Judaism is antiquated^ is a ruin which 
 has been preserved for a small circle, but which is no longer 
 a determinative energy, its spiritual life became stunted and 
 has fallen to the rear, while other religions have gone forward 
 and extended their power over the world. Judaism remained 
 within a small circle for which, it is still further asserted, it 
 may perhaps still have had some importance in a period 
 likewise passed away during the Middle Ages; for those 
 professing it, it was a medium of spiritual and moral life. 
 At a time when barriers of separation were the rule and 
 fashion, when every small group existed as a close corporation 
 and the members of each one of those had their growth and 
 development only within such narrow confines, Judaism also 
 had its authoritative and beneficent influence. But now we, 
 especially those who think and have attained to a higher 
 plane of culture, have progressed far beyond that point. 
 Mankind has become a unit; mental and spiritual life, thought, 
 and feeling, though manifesting themselves in many forms, 
 are nevertheless one and the same in essence, all mental, 
 treasures have become a common inheritance of humanity; 
 the individual is satisfied with being a man. Those occupy- 
 ing a higher point of view among all parties and associations 
 constitute a unit; Judaism has lost its importance for the 
 present age for those who stand on the summit of our time. 
 
 Those are powerful and weighty objections. Let us 
 approach them. The thinking man must unswervingly face 
 
16 Judaism and Its History 
 
 all doubts, must not cowardly hide himself before them, and 
 even when such doubts are presented in the form of assertions, 
 he must not at once despair and surrender to them. 
 
 We are the knowing ones. This assertion is put forward 
 with proud consciousness by our age in opposition to a sage 
 of whom it is said that he had brought wisdom from heaven 
 to earth by announcing that the highest degree of knowledge 
 consisted in knowing that we know nothing. During the two 
 thousand years since that saying was given to the world, 
 we have made immense progress, and results of which there 
 was then not the slightest presentiment are now either 
 common property of all, or at least of those who more seriously 
 devote themselves to research. Natural science has made 
 giant strides. It now knows how to dissolve substances 
 which were formerly considered indissoluble. It under- 
 stands how to follow up the forces which bind and dissolve; 
 it knows how to come at the volatile and evasive elements, 
 how to fathom their laws deeper and deeper and reduce them 
 to higher laws. How far it may progress, who can foresee? 
 What depths it may yet penetrate, who can foretell? It has 
 watched the secret ways in which growth and decay proceed, 
 and has arranged them in a system of rules and laws. And 
 yet, however farther and farther it may penetrate, for we 
 can put no limits to its progress, will it not meet individual 
 matters which can not be dissolved? Will it not ultimately 
 come up with original substance that will ever remain original 
 substance? With an original energy that will ever remain 
 intangible and inexplicable? Will it not everlastingly be 
 compelled to imagine laws and rules which must be supposed 
 as existing, without being able further to prove them? Grant 
 even one law is established, one order is arranged. The 
 human mind will not quiet down at the point of blind force, 
 will not be satisfied with standing still upon arrival at a 
 certain point. With a presentient glance it will always 
 perceive the ordering mind that must have put it up in 
 such manner. Man, conscious of his own reason, can never 
 resist that impulse. 
 
 Nature presents herself to us in a great variety of beings 
 
On the Nature of Religion 17 
 
 according to classes and species; they are different and 
 distinct; though they touch each other, they do not pass 
 over, one into the other. Modern investigation has made 
 the bold advance to search out how from the lower orders 
 the higher ones might have evolved, how from the most 
 imperfect organisms, the higher ones gradually shaped them- 
 selves. Whether it will succeed in clearing up also that 
 mystery, whether such production of one from the other shall 
 prove to be the truth — that is the business of the naturalists 
 to decide, now or in the future. But this much we see: 
 species do exist, they do not change one into the other, they 
 are apart and they remain apart. The same force which 
 created them at the beginning, one out of the other, as 
 alleged, should necessarily continue the same process, should 
 even at this time produce an animal out of the plant and 
 perfect it to the higher organism. But the present world 
 does not present to us such a phenomenon, each kind remains 
 within its fixed limits, it continually begets only individuals 
 of its own kind, and not one is transformed into another. 
 Hence it is not a necessarily propelling force, but an ordering 
 one which puts up each kind according to its peculiarity and 
 preserves it, one that is not blindly rushing ahead without 
 stopping, but which preserves nature as a whole, composed 
 of different parts, so that it is unchangeable both as a whole 
 and in its variety. Nature is ordered according to a definite 
 willf according to an independently ruling reasony and is 
 preserved in that arrangement; the whole universe is one 
 structure, united notwithstanding its great variety, forming 
 a harmonious whole, notwithstanding its various parts. 
 That is wisdom^ arrangement according to purpose and plan, 
 so that even destroying forces present themselves as trans- 
 forming ones, in order to cause the rising of new and nobler 
 creations. That can be only the work of conscious reason — 
 no, never that of a force propelling without purpose. It is 
 a bold word which a great astronomer once uttered when he 
 presented his work upon the mechanism of the heavens to 
 his sovereign. The monarch expressing surprise at not 
 finding God mentioned in the book, the man of science said, 
 
18 Judaism and Its History 
 
 "I do not need that hypothesis." Of course, it was not 
 necessary for him in his explanation of the laws and their 
 operation, at the same time to state how those laws originated 
 and who fixed them everlasting and unchangeable; but what 
 a man in a certain specialty may put aside, that a thinking 
 man can not avoid, he is compelled to seek a higher cause 
 that works according to rational principles. 
 
 Man has to explain not only nature surrounding him — 
 he himself must be explained together with it; he is part and 
 parcel of nature, and to know himself is a task which he can 
 not avoid. But just to himself man becomes the greatest 
 enigma, the more he reflects upon himself. It has been 
 attempted to connect man very closely with similar creatures; 
 species of apes have been mentioned as being but very little 
 apart from man. Some kinds of apes, so it was said, have 
 the appearance of being sunk in melancholy, as if pervaded 
 by a longing desire to get out of that close restraint of mind. 
 A contemplative sentiment, such as man attributes to the 
 animal, but simply attributes, if he regards and conceives 
 animal stupor as melancholy. The distance between the 
 most highly organized animals and man remains a gap that 
 can not be filled. To draw the most remote parallel between 
 man who, despite his inconsiderate bodily strength, notwith- 
 standing he is in many ways with regard to corporeal qualities 
 inferior to other animals which are stronger and swifter, has 
 nevertheless become lord of the earth, of all creation, who 
 more and more gains dominion over everything in inanimate 
 and animate nature, who accommodates himself to every 
 place and knows how to control all conditions ; to draw even 
 the most distant comparison between man and any animal 
 which leads an unprogressive life, which continuously remains 
 on the same plane and is limited to a certain part of the 
 world ; which, without exercising any influence upon the rest 
 of creation, perishes and leaves no trace behind — such a 
 comparison, it must be admitted, looks like childish behavior, 
 throwing away and destroying its own valuables. 
 
 No, man is of an entirely different genus. Man who is 
 bound to time and space like all other corporeal and earthly 
 
On the Nature of Religion 19 
 
 creatures; individual man who is tied to a certain locality, 
 who lives and moves within a small particle of time, never- 
 theless on the other hand overcomes time and space within 
 him, he can transpose himself into the most distant regions, 
 can place the past before him, presuppose the future, has a 
 conception of what is beyond the present. Such faculty can 
 not be the attribute of the body. The body is circumscribed 
 by space and time. Man has the power of recollection, he 
 bears within him that which is past, he can recall it, bring 
 back the most various things from his memory, knowledge 
 has become his property; secure in the possession of knowl- 
 edge of one thing, he progresses step by step. Yet, where, in 
 what part of his body is it? Let us pronounce the word 
 which would not exist at all if the thing did not exist: it is 
 the spirit. Man has a spirit, a faculty which is connected 
 with his body in so far as it moves and animates him, but 
 which is still far more because it leads him to rational con- 
 templation, opens for him an insight into objects which his 
 physical vision is unable to perceive or to grasp. That is a 
 great word pronounced by the thinker who inaugurated the 
 modern system of thought: "I think; therefore I am." 
 The consciousness of the fact that I think, affords me the 
 guaranty that I am; I might doubt all that surrounds me, 
 might lose faith in my own existence, my physical vision is 
 very deceptive, it assures certainty only through my con- 
 sciousness. In fact, man sees all objects presented to him 
 from without in a reverse position as they are mirrored on 
 his retina, and his belief that he sees them as they really are, 
 is the result of our thought, which effects the transposition 
 with imperceptible velocity. Properly speaking, man sees 
 no distance, the impression made of an object through the 
 medium of ray is fixed within his sense of seeing. One object 
 appears as near to him as another, no matter how much the 
 one may be removed or the other brought nearer to him. It 
 is for that reason that, at first, nothing appears distant to a 
 blind person on gaining sight; every object presents itself to 
 his vision as though it were close to him. Thought, habit 
 only, teaches man to size the objects lying between, and from 
 
20 Judaism and Its History 
 
 that he concludes that some objects are not so near as they 
 are reflected upon his organ of sight, that they are at different 
 distances. Sounds approach one after another; their con- 
 nection is expressed only through our thought; through our 
 mental grasp they become a unit; their harmony is within 
 us; it is, as it were, awakened within us by the sounds suc- 
 ceeding each other. And the same can be proven with 
 regard to all other senses. Thought gives shape to the 
 perception of our senses, thought which, at the same time, 
 furnishes man with expression for all feelings, sentiments 
 and ideas. For language, the most faithful reflector of the 
 spirit, constitutes the connecting link between man's inmost 
 essence and the outer world ; language most decisively marks 
 him apart from all other creatures, language which, born as 
 it were, of inward clearness, in its turn renders thought 
 intelligible and gives it full and complete clearness. And 
 nevertheless, that being upon whom the mark of dominion 
 is so distinctly stamped, who can view the universe and all 
 time through his spirit and its mind, that being feels himself, 
 at the same time, limited, meets everywhere bars set up to 
 his life and thought. An individual may advance ever so far 
 and still remains an atom of humanity, so mankind itself is 
 but a part of creation, and creation in its turn streams forth 
 from the source of a greater Spirit. The limits adhere to 
 man ; being but a part, he can not arrive at a complete knowl- 
 edge of the Original Cause of the whole; he must ever bear 
 within himself the consciousness that he is but a fractional 
 part, a fragment, incomplete. 
 
 And yet man feels that he occupies a high position in 
 other respects according to resolutions, according to principles 
 which he forms for himself; he proceeds according to his own 
 will, he chooses, he is the author of his own deeds; no com- 
 pulsion from without drives him on, he reflects, judges, and 
 decides accordingly — what a boundless distinction! Oh, if he 
 only could rejoice thereat in perfect ease! Even there, a 
 mighty conflict arises within him. Whatever I may choose, 
 however I may decide, I am induced thereto by certain 
 reasons. These depend upon knowledge, and this I have 
 
On the Nature of Religion 21 
 
 derived from certain causes; aye, I am a child of my time, I 
 suffer myself to be impelled and guided by what my time 
 presents as truth ; I am a product of my environment, I am 
 not my own creator, I am not the author of my own actions. 
 The desire everywhere to recognize the law of cause and effect 
 crowds against my freedom, shows a necessary continuance of 
 cause and effect, until I arrive at causes that are without me. 
 And yet, man in his deepest self-consciousness feels that he 
 is free, that his will is vested with the power to oppose and 
 dominate all external influences. He is seized with repentance 
 when he recognizes an action of his to be wrong; but he must 
 reproach himself only with actions that have been prompted 
 by himself, and not with those to which he was impelled by 
 uncontrollable necessity. Thus, then, man is free and yet 
 again in bonds! Here also, he perceives his limits, feels that 
 he has not arrived at that degree of perfection for which he 
 longs and of which he has presentiments. He is endowed 
 with a double nature: the consciousness of his greatness and 
 eminence, and over against that, the humiliating feeling of 
 his dependence; on the one hand, the impulse to raise himself 
 to that source whence has proceeded his own mental and 
 spiritual faculty which is not self-creative even because it is 
 dependent; and on the other hand, his inability to completely 
 occupy that highest plane. Now, is not this true religion: 
 the consciousness of man's eminence and lowness; the aspira- 
 tion to perfection, coupled with the conviction that we can 
 not reach the highest plane; the presentiment of the Highest 
 which must exist as a freely acting will, of the Wisdom whence 
 also our little fragment of wisdom proceeds, of an infinitely 
 ruling Freedom whence also our limited freedom has sprung 
 forth — is not that longing for the higher, that soaring up with 
 all the strength of our soul, the very essence of religion? 
 Religion is not a system of truths, it is the jubilation of the 
 soul conscious of its eminence and, at the same time, its 
 hum.ble confession of its finiteness and limitations. Religion 
 is the aspiration of the spirit after the ideal; the pursuit after 
 the loftiest ideas; the desire to reach maturity in spiritual 
 life and to dive deeper and deeper into it; to conquer the 
 
22 Judaism and Its History 
 
 corporeal and earthly; and on the other hand, the unavoidable 
 sentiment that we are still linked with the finite and limited. 
 Religion is the aspiration after the Most High whom we 
 conceive as the sole, full truth; the soaring up to the All- 
 encircling Unity which man, through the whole nature of his 
 spirit, presupposes as a whole, as the foundation of all that 
 exists and shall be, as the source of all earthly and spiritual 
 life, of which he bears within him the vivid conviction, though 
 he be unable to completely know it. All that may be desig- 
 nated as an ancient conception; nothing but presentiment, 
 longing, assumption, which can not be satisfactorily proven. 
 But such is the very nature, the very essence of man, and it 
 must be so, because he is a disconnected being, a fragment 
 torn from the whole spiritual life to which he feels himself 
 attracted without being able to perceive it in its entirety and 
 perfection. The great saying of Lessing: "If God, holding 
 in one hand complete truth, and searching after truth in the 
 other, were to say to me, *Man, choose!' I should ask God 
 and say, 'The whole truth is not for me, searching after 
 truth is fit for me,' " is a saying of the most profound and truest 
 religiousness. Yea! longing after the Highest, attachment to 
 the Whole, striving toward the Infinite despite our finiteness 
 and limitations — that is religion. Therein we have also the 
 guaranty for the Highest and Infinite, because we long to rise 
 up to it; for the Eternal Wisdom, for the Free Agency that 
 encompasses and produces everything out of itself, because 
 we aspire thereto, because we bear the longing after it within 
 ourselves. It can not be a fiction, the offspring of our imagi- 
 nation; it is the noblest reality within us. Religion is not an 
 invention of idle priests; it existed and exists in mankind, and 
 every good and noble aspiration — when man, putting aside 
 his seclusive selfishness, lovingly and fervently attaches him- 
 self to his country and gives to it his own life and welfare 
 and gladly labors for all and is filled with the desire to strive 
 toward the Highest — is the work of religion. Though religion 
 may present itself according to its rise in various outward 
 forms, religion, as such, is a necessity, the noblest feature 
 within man. It will cease only with man, not among men. 
 
On the Nature of Religion 23 
 
 As long as the spirit's yearning for the Spirit of All remains, 
 as long as that must remain, so long religious life will exist. 
 Religion is life. All actions of man, as far as they are 
 prompted by and are striving toward higher views, are the 
 work of religion, and the results of religion. Religion will 
 become purer, more enlightened, its essence and function will 
 be better understood, and it will always remain in existence, 
 because man's longing and imperfection will always remain. 
 The more he advances, the more he will feel this distance from 
 the Infinite and Eternal Wisdom; but he will also the more 
 devotedly look up to it, draw from it, bow to it with fervency 
 and humility. If Judaism did and still does work such an 
 effect as a religion, it is one of the noblest animating forces 
 among mankind. 
 
II. 
 
 Religion in Antiquity, and Religion in 
 Judaism. 
 
 The preceding considerations do not lay claim to estab- 
 lishing new foundations confirming truths thereby. That 
 would be in conflict with the essence of religion; it would 
 divest it of its very peculiarity of being the inheritance of 
 humanity. Religion is an eternal, self -containing force, not 
 a fragile thing which, soon breaking down, is put up again in 
 an altered manner. Nor did our essay mean to adduce new, 
 decisive evidences for religion, to prove its existence. Religion 
 is not philosophy, the slowly progressing thinking power of 
 man ; it is an inborn longing of a whole man who thinks, feels, 
 and wants to act morally and right. Our intention was 
 merely to invite you to again examine whether science, 
 especially natural philosophy and the knowledge of man, had 
 now so far progressed as to have so clearly solved the enigma 
 of existence, of the nature of man, and to have so thoroughly 
 explained all antagonism that man's desire for looking 
 beyond, for breaking through finiteness, for seeking some 
 explanation which may satisfy the wants of his inmost soul, 
 even if it may not afi"ord the most perfect evidence — that 
 such a desire ought to be repudiated as something foolish and 
 uncalled for. Religion is not philosophy; it is rather the 
 manifestation of the force of attraction spread throughout all 
 nature. Wherever we turn, we discover in the separate parts 
 of the life of nature a propulsion of one toward the other, a 
 sensation of one part being attracted by another, that every 
 being is invested with the desire of one for another. The 
 same force of attraction moves man, but with this difference, 
 that he is conscious of it; he feels the desire to associate, to 
 step out of his finiteness and to connect himself with the 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 25 
 
 Infinite, to nestle himself lovingly, with all the fervency of 
 his soul, near the Source of Wisdom and Love. Philosophy, 
 like every other science, is the toilsome conquest of indi- 
 viduals, of those endowed with faculties of a higher order. 
 Religion is a common property of humanity, it is a peculiar 
 susceptibility of man, which irresistibly develops itself within 
 him, more or less clearly illuminating him with its truths. 
 Hence, religion has existed from eternity and will exist unto 
 eternity. 
 
 While religion is thus the most individual element which 
 appears to man as his deepest, innermost quality and dis- 
 tinguishes him as an individual in his belief and practice, 
 constituting the inmost motive power of his whole being, it 
 forms, on the other hand, the bond of all mankind, just 
 because it is something common to all, the connecting link 
 between the several parts, as well as between them and the 
 whole. Everything in each man is vested with the desire of 
 union with all men ; mankind has the desire that all individuals, 
 while completely preserving their independence, may put 
 aside their distinct exclusiveness and co-operate together as a 
 united whole. Such mingling of the separate individual with 
 the common interest is primarily manifested in the tribe and 
 the nation. A nation appears as a unit, distinct from other 
 nations, and yet as a conglomeration of a large number of 
 widely differing human beings. Thus also, religion primarily 
 presents itself as the religion of a tribe, but with the instinct 
 to conquer all mankind, to gather all under its banner. If 
 that instinct is powerful enough, if religion, though presenting 
 itself as a tribal or national religion, yet rises superior to its 
 nationality, if it continues its existence after the fetters 
 which national life had put upon it have been broken, if it 
 does not die when the people among whom it lived have lost 
 their existence as a nation, then indeed, it has successfully 
 passed the trial of its reliability and its truth. Judaism has 
 proved itself a force outliving its peculiar nationality and 
 therefore may lay claim to special consideration. But the 
 fact of enduring existence alone should not sway our judg- 
 ment ; an examination into its intrinsic worth alone can afford 
 
26 Judaism and Its History 
 
 us a true measure for our estimate. A comparison between 
 Judaism and other religions at a time when they had not yet 
 come into contact with it and had not yet been affected by 
 its influence, will furnish us the surest conviction of its 
 superiority over the other religions of Antiquity. 
 
 Without doubt, the most talented nation of Antiquity 
 which was distinguished by noble culture and which exerted 
 the most profound influence upon the development of the 
 whole human race, whose art and science have had the most 
 vivifying and quickening effect upon all times, so that when 
 they were again dug up from under the rubbish that had 
 covered them so long, they appeared as a refreshing well from 
 which humanity drank with greedy drafts — that nation was 
 the Greek nation. As Pallas Athene comes forth armed and 
 equipped from the head of Zeus, thus also the Greek nation 
 appears on the stage of history completely furnished with the 
 noblest weapons of the mind, decked out with the loveliest 
 bloom of life. Even in its first authors and poets, it displays 
 its whole inner being, presenting, though not yet grown out 
 of its infancy nor fully emerged from semisavagery, a har- 
 monious, complete nature. Its most ancient poet. Homer, 
 has remained an unequaled pattern for all time. He exhibits 
 an imagination which boldly soars up and yet is not unbridled, 
 a taste for the beautiful and harmonious expressed in the 
 noblest euphony. How much joy we derive from beholding 
 the beautiful, noble forms of his creation! Men of giant 
 strength and yet sobered and moderated by an innate feeling 
 for the decorous; figures that, though high and sublime, move 
 and affect us by their childlike traits. Nausicaa in her 
 maiden modesty, Penelope's touching faithfulness, the 
 stalwart, bold Hector affectionately bidding farewell to his 
 wife and playing with his child — those are everlasting, noble, 
 human figures to which we return again and again with 
 heartfelt elation. And what strange religious belief did that 
 richly endowed nation bring forth! How imperfect and 
 childish is its belief concerning the Divine, its mythology! 
 Its gods — for of an only God there is no mention — are a set 
 of powerful turbulent aristocrats presided over by a more 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 27 
 
 powerful one. A more powerful one, but by no means an 
 All-Powerful One; for his power is not effectual everywhere, 
 is barely able to execute what his will had resolved to accom- 
 plish. Why, the other gods at one time ventured to bind 
 him; of which he was once reminded by Thetis, who saved 
 him: 
 
 "When the other Olympians did once threaten to bind him" 
 
 she called Briareus to her assistance, 
 
 " . . for his strength is greater than even his father's." 
 
 His power being thus limited, that of the other gods is 
 still more so. It is true, they surpass man; but after all, 
 they are but greater, more exalted men whom even mortals 
 can resist, and who are even wounded by bold heroes. Why, 
 Cypris and Ares, the god of war, receive wounds at the 
 hand of the impetuous Diomedes! And when Venus com- 
 plains of her disgrace, her mother consoles her with the reply: 
 
 "Many of us who inhabit Olympian houses have suffered 
 Grief at the hands of men " 
 
 Above the gods there stands a mysterious, unconquerable 
 power, before which even the gods must bow. Ate, the 
 goddess of mischief, dements them, so that Agamemnon refers 
 to her in order to clear himself from responsibility, saying, 
 
 "What then, indeed, could I? All things are done by the goddess, 
 Jove's all-powerful child, Ate, dementing all mortals. 
 She allures them to sin, and one at least, she misguided; 
 Jove himself, she seduced, though he surpasses supremely 
 Men and gods in power . . . . " 
 
 and then relates how she deceived him : 
 
 " Jove did not suspect her deception, 
 
 Uttered the fatal oath and sustained deep grief for his rashness." 
 
 Jove has no power to control unavoidable Fate, Moira, 
 and breaks into this lament: 
 
 "Woe me! Woe me! Fate now wills that Sarpedon, of mortals 
 Dearest, should fall by the hand of Patroclus, the son of Menoetius." 
 
28 Judaism and Its History 
 
 The same doctrine resounds centuries thereafter, out of 
 Sophocles: 
 
 "The pow'r of Fate supremely rules Indeed, 
 No Ares can, nor courage bold, 
 Nor towers, nor the blackened ship 
 Borne by the waves, escape its blows." 
 
 Thus even Ares, the god of war, must yield to that mys- 
 terious power. 
 
 That an omniscience of the gods, or even of the highest 
 god, can not be even imagined, is evident from the idea that 
 they are ruled by Ate, are demented and deceived by her, 
 because they are ignorant of what is to happen. Therefore, 
 we must not be astonished to hear very strange statements 
 concerning the life of the gods, how they indulge in sweet 
 slumber: 
 
 "Now all beings, the gods as well as the warriors gallant 
 Slept all night; but slumber would flee from the eyes of 
 Jove, who pondered within his soul " 
 
 He was awake, not because he never sleeps nor slumbers, 
 but because reflections in which he indulged drove sleep 
 away. Those imperfections, those ideas unworthy of God, 
 are deeply rooted in moral defects to which the gods are heirs, 
 in foibles exhibited with the most open naivety. We have seen 
 that Ate dements them and causes them to do wrong; they 
 also revel in repasts, indulge in the most sensual pleasures, 
 break faith and promises, perpetrate fornication, dispute and 
 quarrel in the most intolerable manner, so that even Jove can 
 not help complaining to Thetis: 
 
 "Fatal, indeed, it is, that strife and contention with Here 
 Thou wilt excite, who will upbraid me with gibes and reproaches. 
 Why, she quarrels already with me in the midst of th' immortal 
 Gods, unceasing " 
 
 They are cruel and arbitrary, envy men their happiness 
 and welfare; and if they now and then protect the cause of 
 justice, it is merely the whim of the moment, which at another 
 time is frustrated by all sorts of causes. 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 29 
 
 If then, the gods are such, it is but natural that the men 
 who have produced such divine ideals and looked up to them, 
 can not aspire to true perfection. Man, it is true, is often 
 better than his principles, and the Greeks may also have 
 been better than their mythology would lead us to suppose 
 them to have been. Nevertheless, the ideal of the divinity 
 above us and the ideal of the morality within us is too close, 
 that the defects of the former should not make an impression 
 on the latter. Let us consider how that is shown in Hellen- 
 ism. It is emphatically man's limitations and evanescence: 
 All must die and pass away; man has no power to contend 
 against the gods, and whenever he ventures to do so, guilt 
 and horrible ruin will pursue him. Therefore man should 
 put off all pride, abstain from all bold aspirations, move 
 within certain limits. Moderation — Sophrosyne — is the true 
 virtue, the taste for the proper and decorous, for harmony, 
 the intelligence for judging and limiting; virtue is the middle 
 of the road between all extremes, preventing all excesses. 
 Accordingly, to the Greek, virtue is the Useful, the Agreeable; 
 but the inner striving for higher purity, the desire to put off 
 human moral defects, and to lean on the Divine as the source 
 of all purity, had not come clearly to the surface with the 
 Greeks. The consciousness of our sinfulness, of the dis- 
 position of our nature which is limited also as to purity; the 
 consciousness of the continual struggle which we have to 
 make against sensuality, in order to be able to follow our 
 impulse toward the good and perfection — a struggle which 
 ennobles and elevates man, which through repentance even 
 leads him to worthy victory — such ideas were almost com- 
 pletely hidden from Greek perception. If the later poets 
 who drew from the noblest elements of Greek nature, if the 
 tragic poets preeminently emphasize guilt as the cause of the 
 most difficult entanglement in human existence, the guilt is 
 almost always brought over upon the sufferer, not the result 
 of his own doings, but inherited from sire to son down to 
 succeeding generations. Because someone would not honor 
 the gods, scorned them, dared to contend against them, 
 defiled himself by heavy guilt, that guilt passes over upon a 
 
30 Judaism and Its History 
 
 succeeding generation which suffers and perishes by it, 
 without taking an active part in the matter. It is not a 
 really moral struggle, not a guilt from which man has to 
 cleanse himelf ; it is blind Fate that throws the sin, posterity 
 is laid in chains by the cruel decree of ancient guilt. Of 
 course, we are moved at seeing such a struggle, when great 
 strength shakes its fetters; we feel our weakness, we bow in 
 reverent fear, it is a taming of passions, as Aristophanes 
 expresses it, but not a moral elevation. But how different 
 it is if man, though conquered physically, gains the victory 
 within himself by his moral exertions, by his struggles against 
 external adversities; if noble thoughts give support to him; 
 when profound ideas gain the ascendency within him in spite 
 of the actuality without which does not permit their execu- 
 tion; if the individual as the representative of a higher idea 
 must yield, but nevertheless rises a hero, a victor even in 
 defeat: — that higher conception we find but little exhibited 
 in Hellenism. 
 
 Greek philosophy is not blind to those shortcomings and 
 defects; it did not hesitate to express its censure. In the 
 sixth century before the Christian era, Xenophanes, the 
 founder of the Eleatic School, severely inveighs against a 
 belief in such gods. Their plurality is an objection to him; 
 only a unity agrees with a true conception of Deity. He 
 censures also the idea that, even if the gods are not mortal 
 they had a beginning, as if 
 
 "It were not so wicked to believe they had been born, 
 As to present them vested with mortality." 
 
 When sacrifices and dirges are part of the worship of the 
 goddess of the sea, Leucothea, he denounces the contradic- 
 tion: 
 
 "If she be mortal, sacrifice should not be offered to her; 
 
 If she be goddess, funeral dirges should not be sung for her." 
 
 Thus also, he inveighs against the fancy that the gods 
 occupy certain localities, that they have certain forms, and 
 especially the sensual qualities that are attributed to them 
 without hesitation: 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 31 
 
 "Hesiod and Homer attribute unto the gods 
 Whatever disgraces the mortals and calls for censure, 
 Robbery, and adulterous practice, and cunning deception." 
 
 Here we perceive a full and clear acknowledgment of the 
 imperfect idea of Deity in Hellenism, a severe censure pro- 
 nounced by one of the more ancient Greek philosophers, but 
 one which was hardly repeated with such scorching emphasis. 
 Later philosophers have not entirely abstained from censure, 
 but they preferred an attempt to idealize, to teach purer ideas 
 of Deity and man's relation to it, without undertaking such 
 a distinct fight against the current belief. Such action on 
 their part undoubtedly proceeded less from fear of the issue 
 of a conflict between their conviction and error, it rather 
 seems as though they felt that such a conflict would involve 
 the very essence of the nation, that it would cut the nerve of 
 national life by openly assaulting the history of their gods. 
 They sought to remain more or less in agreement with the 
 popular belief, either by ignoring it, or by attempts to explain 
 it. But if, nevertheless, a bold expression now and then 
 ventured out among the people, such a decided opposition 
 arose that the critic was soon forced into silence. Anaxagoras 
 and Protagoras were compelled to go into exile; Socrates, 
 who treated the popular belief with great discretion, had to 
 drink the poisoned chalice. The popular belief of the Greeks 
 was not susceptible of transformation or reformation ; it had 
 to remain such as it was, or cease altogether. A religion 
 which bears within itself a more powerful idea than it can 
 exhibit in the transient imperfection of the time, may, in the 
 course of its development, cast away many a side-shoot, 
 efface many antiquated expressions and produce new ones by 
 its creative energy. But a religion that has completely 
 exhausted itself by its very appearance, whose stem, blossom, 
 and fruit, fully correspond to its root and have taken all 
 available substance out of that, must perish down to its very 
 root, when its blossom and fruit are injured. Such was the 
 case with Hellenism. 
 
 Considering that one of the most talented nations of 
 Antiquity produced such crude religious conceptions, we need 
 
32 Judaism and Its History 
 
 hardly cast an examining glance at the multitude of other 
 nations that have passed away without leaving any vestige 
 of culture ; nations that lived in rude savageness must naturally 
 have had rude notions concerning the Deity and man's rela- 
 tion to it. And when we contemplate the groups of nations 
 surrounding the Jews, nations that far surpassed that little 
 people in power and kept it encircled, some of which for a 
 time exerted decisive influence upon the destiny of the world, 
 we shall feel horrified at the savage cult that prevailed among 
 them, at the excesses presented as divine worship: human 
 sacrifices offered up to Moloch, who robbed mothers of their 
 children to consume them in his red-hot embrace, degenerate 
 debaucheries as pleasing worship of their gods. The standing 
 expression of the bible, *'to go a-whoring after the gods of 
 the nations,'* may be taken in its most literal meaning. A 
 horrible picture! 
 
 Now, in the midst of such surroundings, Judaism ap- 
 peared, and, like the witch of Endor at seeing Samuel, we may 
 well exclaim, "I see God ascending out of the earth;" out of 
 the earth that is defiled, given up to sensuality, desecrated by 
 low practices, out of that earth I behold the Divine arise in 
 lustrous purity. The name attributed in Judaism to God 
 was afterwards most significantly considered as ineffable, 
 because no name can comprise Him, is adequate to His being; 
 the very sounds of that name have been lost, and we do not 
 know its true pronunciation. But its meaning is certain. 
 **He is" is that meaning; as God, speaking of Himself, 
 proclaims in holy writ, "I am who I am," so man says of 
 Him, "He is!" — the Only Existence, the All-comprising, 
 both for nature and for the life of man. He is and as such 
 All-comprising naturally also absolute Unity. That term of 
 unity resounds through all the writings of Judaism and the 
 fundamental axiom of Israel is: "Hear, O Israel, He is is our 
 God, He is is one." That Existence which comprises all, is 
 the Sole, fully living Individuality, but at the same time, as 
 the Most Universal One, indivisible. "Ye saw no manner of 
 form," you heard only utterances, you observed only the 
 brilliant light beaming forth from Him, sounds proceeding 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 33 
 
 from Him ; those are merely effects ; but to represent Him by 
 an image, Judaism had avoided as a great monstrosity, as 
 the greatest abomination. For that Infinity, the Jews have 
 at all times sacrificed their lives. It was this that at first 
 appeared as something curious in the eyes of heathendom: 
 a religion without idols. Even Juvenal still refers to it, 
 saying: 
 
 "Nil praeter nuhes et coeli numen adorant" 
 
 Nothing but cloud and a God of heaven they worship. 
 
 **There is no image in the Temple of the Jews!'* Tacitus 
 scornfully writes — a queer religion without images. And 
 just that was its very core, the conviction of the All-compris- 
 ing — "the whole earth is full of His glory." And to this 
 Unity, to this idea of the All-comprising One, naturally 
 omnipotence is joined. Should there be anything impossible 
 for God? "Is God's hand, perchance, waxed short?" Nor 
 are the pages of Judaism less full of the conception of God's 
 omnipotence, of that supreme wisdom which penetrates and 
 searches everything; of the eyes of God that see through 
 everything, not merely beholding the outward appearance, 
 but looking into the heart, into the innermost mind of man. 
 No man can fully grasp true wisdom which is so sublime and 
 can be found only with God. Thus Job teaches, taking his 
 beautiful poetical comparison from the science of mining: 
 
 "There is a vein for the silver, and a place for gold where they fine it. 
 Iron is taken out of the earth, and brass is molten out of the stone. Man 
 setteth an end to darkness, and pierceth down to the bottom, to the 
 stones of darkness and the shadow of death. The flood breaketh forth 
 before him, which runneth about there, forgotten by the foot, removed 
 from men. The earth, out of which cometh bread, is turned up under it 
 as by fire. There is a place of sapphires and precious stones, and it hath 
 dust of gold. That path no fowl knoweth and the vulture's eye hath not 
 seen it. . . . Man cutteth out rivers among the rocks, and he seeth 
 every precious thing. . . . But where shall wisdom be found? Where 
 is the place of understanding? Man knoweth not the price thereof, it is 
 not found in the land of the living. The depth saith, It is not in me, and 
 the sea saith, It is not in me. . . . Destruction and death say, We 
 have heard the fame thereof with our ears. God understandeth the way 
 thereof, and He knoweth the place thereof." 
 
34 Judaism and Its History 
 
 A grand presentation of wisdom, hidden from the eyes of 
 men, and seen through only by God ! 
 
 But all that is surpassed by the conviction of God*s 
 Holiness, of the purity that can not bear the sight of evil, 
 nor tolerate wrong. *' Of pure eyes, so that He can not behold 
 evil, nor look on iniquity." 
 
 God is pure, holy. He alone, and no other being besides 
 Him. In His holiness, He is all-kind, gracious, merciful: 
 "Self -existent, eternal, almighty, gracious and merciful, 
 long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and in truth," that 
 is the keynote running through all doctrines and convictions 
 of Judaism. He is the Loving One, who though He also 
 awards punishments, loves the repentant and extends His 
 hand to him, that he may turn from his evil ways, for He 
 rejoices in all His works and accords His love to all of them. 
 
 Guilt is not fate irretrievably clinging to man: "I have 
 no pleasure in the death of the sinner, but that he may turn 
 from his ways and live," that he may attain the true and 
 pure, higher life. The certainty of His justice, of His bound- 
 less love for man, is based upon such immovable foundation 
 in Judaism, that even the saddest experiences can not shake 
 the conviction thereof. Poets and prophets complain of 
 sufferings and trials; they present the riddles of human 
 experience; they can not understand why many fare well 
 or ill on the earth contrary to their practices; they confess, 
 too, that they are unable to find the full explanation of such 
 facts. But they are far from uttering any doubt of the 
 justice of God on that account; their conviction remains 
 unshaken, that His proceeding is based on supreme justice. 
 
 The relation of men to God and to each other tends toward 
 the same ideal. Man is a finite, limited, dependent being; 
 that thought is often repeated in Judaism. 
 
 But the complaint about it is by no means as predominant 
 as in Hellenism. The fact is accepted with quiet resignation, 
 together with the consciousness of man's high position, and 
 that consciousness breaks forth everywhere as with jubilation. 
 At the very beginning it is said: "Let us make man in our 
 image, after our likeness," a likeness to God, which is soon 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 35 
 
 explained as referring to the spirit. "He breathes into his 
 faculties the spirit of life." Endowed with that likeness, 
 man is soon represented in his greatness. The psalmist says: 
 "Thou hast crowned him (man, who is so insignificant and 
 puny) with glory and honor. Thou madest him to have 
 dominion over the works of Thy hands.'* Everywhere man 
 is presented to us in that high position which advantage 
 actually gives him the impulse for further development and 
 aspiration to higher eminence. For man has the capability 
 of higher development : 
 
 "Yea, there is a spirit in mankind and the inspiration of the Almighty 
 giveth them understanding." 
 
 Reason being a ray from Divine Reason, ennobles man, 
 awakens within him the desire more and more to rise toward 
 the Supreme Reason. But the most essential element in 
 him is the consciousness of his moral power, which is innate 
 in man and is the foundation of his real nobility; and which, 
 even because it awakens his aspiration to perfect purity, 
 makes him feel his limitations along that line, and the bars 
 to moral life so much the more. He feels that sensuality 
 accompanies him from his infancy, that it is a part of his 
 nature, so that a conflict is started between his sensuality and 
 his spiritual ideals: "the desire of man's heart is evil from his 
 youth.'* That sentence expresses the imperfection which is 
 also manifested in the moral life, an appetite the allurements 
 of which we have the power to resist. In ancient time the 
 question was raised, why the bible begins with an account of 
 the beginning of time instead of the first commands, and why 
 all that introduction. The answer runs: "He hath showed 
 to His people the power of His works," and though com- 
 mandments do not occupy the first space, yet the pages con- 
 tain considerations replete with religious element. The 
 question was prompted by a narrow, literal view. But when 
 we read that beginning of the bible, we discover a deep 
 significance in the naive and simple presentation which even 
 at this day not only fascinates us, but furnishes material for 
 reflection. Not only that creation is presented in its well- 
 
36 Judaism and Its History 
 
 constructed order, the conflict within man is brought in too. 
 We behold man first in his innocence, then soon in struggle 
 with craving that is, of course, part of his nature; he must 
 control it if he does not want to become a prey to sin. Physi- 
 cal desire did not allure the first man only, it is part of the 
 nature of all men and in that way the mother of sin which 
 is not an involuntary inheritance from father to son but is 
 committed by every one individually. Sin proceeds also 
 from selfishness, from the narrowminded separation of man 
 from his fellow-man; it is the product of envy and manifests 
 itself as discord ; Cain is filled with ill-will against his brother. 
 There we meet the great word: "Sin lurketh at the door, 
 unto thee is its desire, hut thou canst rule over it.'' 
 
 At the entrance into the outer world, in our connection 
 with it, sin is lurking; but thou art a man, endowed with 
 the sublime power of the will, who is not bound to yield to sin, 
 to whom sin is not an external, invincible pov/er, but a 
 desire within, which can be kept down by using thy better 
 force. The doctrine of man's striving for self-ennoblement, 
 of the conflict from which he can and should proceed as victor, 
 is presented to us everywhere. With that moral conviction, 
 connected as it is, with the consciousness of his limitations 
 on that point, he moves toward Eternal Purity and seeks its 
 aid in loving devotion. Love of God is an idea which pagan- 
 ism did not know, which Judaism presents with such sublime 
 simplicity, as though it were a matter of course: "Thou 
 shalt love the Lord, thy God, with all thy heart, with all thy 
 soul, and with all thy might.** "Though my flesh and my 
 heart faileth, God is the strength of my heart and my portion 
 forever. '* " It is good for me to draw near to God. '* "Whom 
 have I in heaven but Thee? And there is none upon earth 
 that I desire besides Thee." 
 
 Those are expressions found scattered about in great 
 numbers. The full devotion, the intensity of feeling, where- 
 with moral man attaches himself to the Highest Moral Purity, 
 to God's holiness, the expression of such a relation to the 
 Most High, determines also the relation of men to each other, 
 produces the mutual attachment of men to each other in 
 
Religion in Antiquity and Religion in Judaism 37 
 
 love: *'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" is an ad- 
 monition which in like manner is treated as a matter of course 
 and is not especially accentuated; it bears its own emphasis 
 within itself, because it runs through the whole law, whose 
 every provision breathes love. I shall point only to one noble 
 moral flower, the like of which is probably not to be found 
 in the law books: 
 
 "Thou shalt not respect the person of the poor in judgment." 
 
 That the person of the rich and respected should not be 
 given advantage is also emphasized, of course; and such 
 admonition appears natural against the temptation of favor- 
 ing the rich man, in view of the benefits that his good will 
 might afford, or of violating justice in favor of the influential 
 one on account of his power. But Judaism presupposes 
 also sympathy, commiseration with misfortune as such, a 
 profound fundamental trait, that it apprehends justice might 
 be violated in suit-at-law in favor of the poor, who might be 
 favored even if in the wrong, just because he is in distress. 
 Beware also of such an act! Sympathy and pity are emo- 
 tions that have their proper place and use, but even those 
 noble feelings must be silent before justice. In that script- 
 ural command, there is a height of conception, a sublimity 
 of moral view, which we can but reverence. 
 
 And this Religion has also in its very nature the impulse 
 to offer its blessings as the religion of humanity. It is an ex- 
 alting strain resounding from all prophets and poets in the idea 
 that the acknowledgment of God will spread over all the 
 world; it is not to be a narrow nationality but a complete 
 humanism. Because God is the Sole Father of all men, be- 
 cause Love turns toward all men and should bring its 
 quickening and consecrating power to all: 
 
 ' God shall be king over all the earth : in that day there 
 sha be one God, and His name one. 
 
 *They shall beat their swords into plowshares and 
 their spears into pruning hooks, nation shall not lift sword 
 against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." 
 
 A time shall come when all nature is transformed, when 
 
38 Judaism and Its History 
 
 enlightened mankind will so prevail that savagism exists no 
 more and even the wild beasts* havoc ceases, "and the suck- 
 ling child shall play on the hole of the adder, and the weaned 
 child shall put his hand on the basilisk's den; they shall 
 not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain : for the earth 
 shall be full of the knowledge of God, as the waters cover 
 the sea.'* 
 
 The religion shall be a light to all people: "My house 
 shall be a house of prayer unto all nations." At the consecration 
 of the Temple, Solomon prays also for the stranger who cometh 
 out of a far country: "Hear Thou him, O God in heaven, 
 Thy dwelling place, and do according to all that the stranger 
 calleth to Thee for." That is a grand sweeping look beyond 
 oneself, beyond the barrier, an aspiration manifesting that 
 the idea in Judaism is mightier than the vessel in which it 
 first appeared; it seems as if from every side we hear the 
 ancient teacher's words: "Let the vessel be broken, but 
 preserve the precious contents," the contents that cannot 
 be contained by the physical outside matter. 
 
 In such manner, Judaism presents itself to us, and its 
 very simplicity and originality reveal its inexhaustible glory. 
 Even the foregoing short outlines show the vastly different 
 form in which that religion entered the world, how it was 
 the only one of its kind, unlike all other religions in Antiquity. 
 Besides, it must be considered that it arose among a nation 
 that did not develop a finished logical system of philosophy, 
 that is not distinguished by works of other sciences or of art, 
 and yet brought forth such conceptions and views unaided, 
 as if prompted by some inner force. How did it happen 
 that such a people, a mere tribe surrounded by so many 
 mightier nations, which had no opportunity of having an 
 unobstructed view of the great events in the world, which 
 had to fight many battles for its bare existence, which was 
 confined within a limited territory, and had to employ all 
 its resources to defend itself against its powerful enemies — 
 how did it happen that such a people rose to those sublime 
 conceptions? It is an enigma in the world's history. Who 
 will give us a complete solution? 
 
III. 
 
 Revelation. 
 
 There are facts of such an overwhelming power that 
 even the most stubborn opinion must yield to them. Such 
 a fact is the origin of Judaism in the midst of rude surround- 
 ings, like a vigorous growth out of a barren soil. We have 
 essayed to draw, in a few scanty outlines, a comparison 
 between the convictions, presentiments and assertions that 
 prevailed in Antiquity in general, and those presented by 
 Judaism. Even that incomplete sketch must convince the 
 unprejudiced mind that we behold an original energy which 
 has preserved its significance for all times and has proven 
 to be a creative force. Let us for a few more moments, dwell 
 upon the principal representatives, the organs of that religious 
 idea, upon the Prophets. In them we perceive characters of 
 quiet greatness, of simple sublimity; of fervor with modera- 
 tion; of boldness with humble submission — traits that are 
 imposing and make us feel the very breath of a higher spirit. 
 Our ancient teachers observe: *'No two prophets deliver 
 the prophetic message in the same strain and expression. 
 Each one of them is complete within himself, each has a 
 peculiar, distinct character of his own, and yet all have the 
 same general characteristics and are animated by one great 
 idea. Isaiah^ bold, noble, severely serious, and yet lovingly 
 indulging in the most joyful and glorious hopes, full of the 
 most cheerful confidence; hence hurrying from gloomy pre- 
 dictions and threats of severe chastisement over to a descrip- 
 tion of a most brilliant future. Jeremiah^ tender-hearted, 
 looking sad into the tangled and desperate condition of 
 his time; hence plaintive and reproving his contemporaries 
 with, severity, yet never despairing, yet full of cheerful con- 
 viction that the idea he proclaims must prevail, if not in his 
 time, certainly in the future. Ezekiel, as if overwhelmed 
 
40 Judaism and Its History 
 
 by the idea that animates him, as if dazzled by the light 
 surrounding him, indulges in bold figures in the effort to 
 represent the glory of his visions, yet clearly and fully con- 
 scious whenever moral precepts are to be distinctly emphasized 
 to his people; and withal, endowed with that clear, compre- 
 hensive vision which penetrates the very heart of man and 
 calls attention to his faults and virtues.'* Our ancient teachers 
 finely describe that difference: "Isaiah appears as a man 
 of the palace, familiar with the manners and the pomp of a 
 court, with the divine appointments, speaks only in general 
 terms of its brilliancy; standing on an eminence, he draws 
 the sublime in his own light. Ezekiel appears as a villager 
 who is suddenly brought into brilliant city life, and in his 
 excitement does not know where to stop in his picturing of 
 both the detail and the whole of his impressions.** They 
 differ, but all are devoted to one great idea, all are sustained 
 by the same higher spirit. 
 
 They love their country with intense fervor; their speeches 
 and admonitions are addressed to the people at widely dif- 
 ferent times, to uplift them, to strengthen and encourage 
 them, to support their country and the national life. They 
 love their country, take profound pleasure in describing it 
 as a land flowing with milk and honey, a land in which a man 
 "may eat bread without stint,'* "whose stones are iron, 
 out of whose hills thou mayest dig brass"; joyfully they de- 
 scribe it as a land that has been favored by God with the most 
 various blessings, but the most essential matter to them 
 always remains: "For from Zion goeth forth the Law, and 
 the word of God from Jerusalem.** "Mountains around 
 about Jerusalem, but God round about His people.** 
 
 And with naivety and affection, the condition of that 
 land in comparison with Egypt is described: "The land 
 whither thou goest in to possess it is not like the land of 
 Egypt from whence you came out, there ye sowed seed and 
 watered it with your own labor, as a garden of herbs: but 
 the land whither ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and 
 valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven: a land 
 which God forever careth for: His eyes are always upon it, 
 
Revelation 41 
 
 from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the 
 year." 
 
 Egypt, it is true, is a garden of God in the eyes of the 
 Israelites, a land which, by the annual overflowing of the 
 Nile and by canals, carries water everywhere; which may be 
 cultivated with the sure hope of success; which exhibits, with 
 but rare exceptions, its fertility from year to year and offers 
 its rich treasures in abundance; but nevertheless, Palestine 
 is prized more highly : a land of valleys and mountains, need- 
 ing rains, depending upon Nature's moods, so that the eye 
 of God has to be upon it from the beginning of the year to 
 its end: and therein consists the glory and the excellence of 
 the country. 
 
 They glorify that land as an especially favored and gifted 
 one; and even when it has vanished from them, when it has 
 been taken from them, their strength is not broken, they are 
 not bound to its soil; their love for their earthly country rests 
 upon their love for a higher one from which a ray descends 
 upon the former. The poet, after bewailing the destruction of 
 the city, the banishment of its inhabitants, after having 
 indulged in lamentations, exclaims: "Thou, O God, remain- 
 est forever; Thy throne, from generation to generation" — a 
 thought which runs through thousands of years, even after 
 the national life has disappeared. Can it be wondered at 
 that such a cheerful confidence exerted a powerful influence 
 also on later generations? You hear the same words centuries 
 thereafter. The state was destroyed a second time, every 
 hope blasted, the last flickering light, kindled by Ben Kosiba, 
 was put out, and Roman oppression lay heavy upon the 
 people. Rabbi Akiba with some friends visited Jerusalem, 
 and they saw a jackal running out from where formerly the 
 Holy of Holies had been standing. Akiba's companions 
 wept and rent their clothes; Akiba remained quiet, almost 
 cheerful. His friends asked, "Since when have you become 
 so indiff"erent to the misfortunes of our people? Do you 
 not see the second fulfillment of the words: 'Yea, for this 
 do we weep, because of the mountain of Zion, which is desolate, 
 jackals walk about upon it? ' " "Well, my friends," replied 
 
42 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Akiba, "indeed those words have again been verified; but 
 the other will also come true: *Thou O God, remainest 
 forever. Thy throne from generation to generation.* I live 
 in unshaken, firm confidence." 
 
 That the prophets did not look for security of their per- 
 sons when the interests of the cause demanded their devotion; 
 that they labored with entire unselfishness, regardless of 
 appreciation or glory or praise, is attested by every word 
 uttered by them. It appears as though the words spoken by 
 one of them resounds through all their sermons: 
 
 "I gave my back to the smiters and my cheeks to them 
 that plucked off the hair, I hid not my face from the shame 
 and spitting, for God the Lord will help me; therefore shall 
 I not be confounded, therefore have I set my face like a flint, 
 I know I shall not be ashamed." 
 
 And though from different sides they heard cries such 
 as these: " Prophesy to us of wine and strong drink," "Fool- 
 ish is the prophet, the man of the spirit raveth," they 
 did not yield, they did not desecrate their lips, they did 
 not keep silent: "The Lord God hath spoken, who can 
 but prophesy?" A higher force impelled them, would not suffer 
 them to keep silent, to grow weary of preaching; it was a 
 moral and spiritual enthusiasm that placed them on an 
 eminence to which we, in later days, must ever look up. 
 
 Thus Judaism is a grand phenomenon in history; and thus 
 its representatives and organs are men of such dignity and 
 spiritual greatness that we must pay them the tribute of our 
 admiration. They entered the lists without being encouraged, 
 without having patterns before them; on the contrary, in a 
 discouraging environment, encircled by nations addicted 
 to idolatry, amidst priests and proclaimers of other nations 
 who did homage to sensuality which degraded human nature. 
 Whence, then, came that force which all at once enters the 
 scene as something original? We arrive here at the consider- 
 ation of the very depth and bottom of the human soul, 
 beyond which it can not go, of an energy creating of its 
 own apprehension, without being impelled thereto by any 
 external impulse. 
 
Revelation 43 
 
 We discriminate, in general, a two-fold intellectual 
 operating ability in man, a two-fold distinguishing endowment 
 — we discriminate talent and genius. They touch upon 
 each other in many points, so that a distinct line of demark- 
 ation can not be drawn between them; yet they preserve 
 each its own particular peculiarity; they are not only sepa- 
 rate, but they differ in their whole nature, in their foundation. 
 Talent is an endowment with the ability of easily and quickly 
 receiving, digesting, and reproducing with taste and skill; 
 but talent leans upon something that has been achieved, 
 upon results that are present before it, upon treasures already 
 acquired — it creates nothing new. Genius works quite dif- 
 ferently. It is independent, it creates, it discovers truths 
 heretofore hidden, it discloses laws heretofore unknown; it 
 is as though the forces that work in the depth of nature 
 bared themselves to it in greater clearness according to their 
 connection and legitimate co-operation; as though they pre- 
 sented themselves to it to be grasped, as though the mental 
 and spiritual movements in the individual as well as in man- 
 kind as a whole, unveiled themselves before it, that it may 
 behold the deepest foundation of the soul and may be able to 
 dissect the motives and impulses hidden away there. Talent 
 may be practiced, it may even be acquired by laborious 
 application; genius is a free gift, a gift of grace, a mark of 
 consecration stamped upon man, that can never be acquired, 
 if it be not in the man. Talent, therefore, can not overcome 
 impediments and obstacles if they present themselves with 
 overwhelming force, it can not thrive under unfavorable cir- 
 cumstances. Genius, on the other hand, advances its 
 conquering force against the most untoward conditions, it 
 opens a way, it must expand its force, for it is a living impulse, 
 a power that is stronger than its possessor, a touch of the 
 energy dispersed into nature but condensed in him, linking 
 him with the Spirit of all spirits who manifests Himself to 
 him by higher illumination. Talent propagates the knowledge 
 which has been stored up, perfects it also now and then, and 
 makes it the common property of all. Genius enriches 
 humanity with new truths and perceptions, it gives the 
 
44 Judaism and Its History 
 
 impulse to all great things that have come and are still to 
 come to pass in this world. 
 
 When Columbus discovered the New World, he had not 
 been specially prepared for it, nor fitted thereto by superior 
 geographical knowledge, by greater experience gained on 
 his voyages; nor could those justify any conclusion that India 
 was to the west of Spain. It was the light of genius that 
 caused him to see the surface of the earth, he was favored 
 with a look into the nature of the globe and to feel that the 
 land must be across the ocean which had been thought to be 
 boundless; and thus what had been as knowledge, but im- 
 perfect, in him, turned into living conviction whose truth he 
 made every effort to prove. Copernicus was probably not 
 the greatest astronomer of his time; others may have made 
 more correct calculations and may have been far superior to 
 him in the science, but it was as if the whole working of the 
 natural forces of attraction and repulsion and the entire 
 movement of the world had been revealed to his vision; as 
 though the veil which dark tradition had thickened, had been 
 drawn aside from before him; as though he had looked with 
 bold eye into the mechanism of the universe and held fast to 
 what he had seen as a rapidly grasped truth which he after- 
 wards with deep insight tried to substantiate, in which he 
 did not fully succeed, because it had to be more clearly 
 explained and more firmly established than he was able to do 
 then. Newton is said to have been induced to establish the 
 law of gravitation by the falling of an apple observed by him 
 while sitting near an apple tree. Many people before him 
 had seen apples falling, but not with the eye of genius; for 
 that beholds in the single phenomenon the great, comprehen- 
 sive law which causes that phenomenon ; it looks through that 
 external manifestation into the invisible working from which 
 everything proceeds. 
 
 Such instances could be added to by others from every 
 field. The historian who deserves the name as such, is not 
 made by the profundity and care in research, the full knowl- 
 edge of all incidents; he is perhaps often compelled to refuse 
 a mass of burdensome material in order not to be perplexed 
 
Revelation 45 
 
 and crushed by crowd of details. But this affords him his 
 favored position, that his vision is sharper and sees into the 
 character of the time, that the entire working of the wheels 
 of the ideas moving in the depths of the period, is laid bare 
 before him. It is as if the period as a whole with its deepest 
 foundations uncovered, stood before his mental vision, as if 
 he had actually listened to the most secret intentions of its 
 chief actors. In that way, all that was before known is put 
 into its proper place, because the connection between the 
 events and the actors has only become perfectly clear. You 
 may perhaps call that good sense, acumen, a happy faculty 
 of combination. When the acute thinker does not run into 
 error, when his combination knows how to connect the 
 proper parts, then it is the work of genius. And what is it 
 that enables the poet to look so deep into the soul that he 
 recognizes the temperament, the desires, the passions so 
 clearly, as though the chambers of the heart were opened for 
 him? What enables him to grasp and present all complica- 
 tions and combinations in the most various relations and 
 conditions, however much they may be entangled and hidden 
 to ordinary vision, and to fathom and picture a character in 
 its unity? Is it the great experience he has had? Is it 
 that, perchance, he himself has passed through all that? 
 Certainly not! It is the vision that more surely and sharply 
 receives the picture of the whole life of the human soul from 
 the individual phenomenon and knows how to represent it. 
 In fact, it is only genius that enables an individual to inter- 
 fere with might in the movements of the mind and spirit and 
 to give them a forward impulse for centuries to come — and. 
 as it is in individuals, so it is in whole nations as well. 
 
 The Greeks boasted of being autochthons, of having risen 
 and sprung from their own soil. We shall not examine 
 whether that claim is justified; but another claim, which is 
 the real meaning of it, will surely be admitted; namely, the 
 autochthonic character of their mind, the aboriginal nature 
 of their national talent. The Greeks had neither pattern nor 
 teacher in art or science, they were teacher and .master to 
 themselves, they speedily attained such perfection in art as 
 
46 Judaism and Its History 
 
 makes them instructors of mankind almost for all time. It 
 is as though a higher living sense for the Beautiful, the 
 Harmonious, the Symmetrical, and the Pleasing had been 
 innate in that nation — we observe a National Genius through 
 the possession of which masters in every art and science made 
 their appearance. Therefore, even later centuries willingly 
 listened to the words of that nation, hastened thither, where 
 they could see the works of the plastic art, where they could 
 enjoy, as it were, a rejuvenating bath in the spiritual fountain 
 that parts thence and runs through the centuries. Is not the 
 Jewish people, likewise, endowed with such a genius, a 
 Religious Genius? Is it not, likewise, an aboriginal power 
 that illuminated its eyes so that they could see deeper into 
 the higher life of the spirit, could feel more deeply and recog- 
 nize more vividly the close relation between the spirit of man 
 and the Supreme Spirit, that they could more distinctly and 
 clearly behold the real nature of the Moral in man, and then 
 present to the world the result of that inborn knowledge. If 
 this be so, we may speak of a close touch of the individual 
 spirit with the Supreme Spirit, of the light thrown into 
 individual spirits by the Power that fills everything, so that 
 they could break through their finite barrier; it is — let us not 
 hesitate to speak the word — it is Revelation , and that too, as 
 manifested in the whole nation. 
 
 The Greeks were not all artists; each one of them was not 
 a Phidias or a Praxiteles, but yet the Greek nation alone was 
 capable of producing such great masters. The same was the 
 case within Israel. Surely not all its men were prophets, and 
 the exclamation, "Would that all the people were prophets" 
 was but a pious wish; the other: *'I shall pour out My 
 spirit upon all flesh," is a promise, it had not become the reality. 
 Nevertheless, Israel is the people of revelation within which 
 the favored representatives appeared ; it is as if the sparks of 
 light had been scattered and had been gathered into a blaze 
 in the more favored ones. A thorn-bush produces no grape- 
 vine; a neglected people produces no prophets such as the 
 Jews gave to the world. The historical books of the bible are 
 full of reproach about the morals and the depravity of the 
 
Revelation 47 
 
 people of Israel at the time of their kings; the authors want 
 to prepare us for the devastation that came on later as a 
 punishment for their sins. Yet, noble forces in great number 
 must have existed within that nation ; there must have been 
 a native endowment and disposition, when men of such 
 significance could rise and develop out of the people. 
 Judaism was not a mere voice crying in the wilderness, 
 and though it did not prevail in all, it was still an 
 energy which existed, though weaker in many, yet to such an 
 extent that, concentrating in individuals, it could produce 
 such heroes of the spirit. Nor does Judaism claim to be the 
 work of individuals, but that of the whole people. It does 
 not speak of the God of Moses or of the God of the prophets, 
 but of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of the God of 
 the whole race, of all the patriarchs who were equally endowed 
 with the gift of prophetic vision, the genius of revelation 
 which was latent in the whole people and found concentration 
 and expression in individuals. The fact that the greatest 
 prophet left his work unfinished contains a great truth: he 
 must not be regarded as the Atlas who bears the world on 
 his shoulders, who completes the work without the co-opera- 
 tion of others from beginning to end. "No man knoweth of 
 his sepulchre unto this day" and our ancient teachers remark, 
 "His grave should not serve for a place of pilgrimage whither 
 people go to do honor to one and thus raise him above the 
 level of man." Moses did his part of the work according to 
 his great capacity as one of the whole people. Judaism arose 
 within the people of revelation. And why then should we 
 not use the word where we touch bottom rock, an illumination 
 proceeding from a higher mind and spirit, which can not be 
 explained; which is not a compound produced by a process 
 of development even if it is further developed afterwards; 
 which all at once appears in existence as a whole, like every 
 new creation proceeding from the Original Spirit? We do not 
 want to limit and define the word in any dogmatic manner; 
 it may be understood in different ways, but as to its essence 
 it remains the same: the point of contact of human reason 
 with the Fundamental Source of all things. High as the 
 
48 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ancient teachers estimated revelation, they never denied that 
 it is connected with human ability. The Talmud teaches: 
 "The spirit of God rests only on a wise man, on a man pos- 
 sessing moral power, who is independent because he is frugal 
 and contented by having conquered all ambition, greed, and 
 desire;" a man who bears his importance within him, who 
 feels the divine within him. Only such a one is capable of 
 receiving the Divine, not a mere speaking trumpet through 
 which the spoken word passes without his being conscious of 
 it; no, a man in the true sense of the word, who touches close 
 upon the divine and is therefore susceptible of it. A deep 
 thinker and great poet of the Middle Ages, Juda Ha-Levi, 
 emphatically designated revelation as a disposition that was 
 present in the whole people. Israel, he says, is the religious 
 heart of mankind which in its totality always preserved its 
 greater susceptibility, and its individual distinguished men 
 were the heart of that heart. Maimonides speaks of a flash- 
 like illumination as which revelation must be regarded ; to one 
 the light lasted but for a short time, to another it occurred 
 repeatedly, and with Moses, it was a lasting one, an illumination 
 which lights up the darkness, affords man a look into the 
 hidden recesses, which reveals to him what remains con- 
 cealed for others. 
 
 Judaism is such a religion, has grown out of such divine 
 visions and has connected into a whole all that it did behold; 
 Judaism is a religion of truth, because the view into the 
 essence of things is infallible, beholding the Unchangeable and 
 the Everlasting: That is its everlasting message. 
 
IV. 
 
 Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position. 
 
 Every new birth is attended with painful labor ; every new 
 idea which, creative and transformatory, enters into the 
 mental world, must expect a hard and obstinate fight with all 
 those mental powers which insist on their right of custom and 
 well feel that they are threatened with destruction by a 
 mightier force; they contend against it with all the bluntness 
 and rudeness of inert possession, with all the violent arro- 
 gance of mental shallowness which easily works itself into 
 bitter harshness. An idea which endeavors to create a new 
 mental and spiritual life, must of course fight with mental 
 weapons, it bears within itself the guaranty of certain 
 victory, it sees in it something imperishable which is equal to 
 all emergencies and can defy all obstacles. But though it 
 enters the mental world light- winged, it will, by the pro- 
 tracted contest, be compelled to put on coarser material arms 
 and harness, in order not to be crushed at the very outset. 
 Young David enters a glorious fight and comes out of it 
 victorious. Saul, on hearing of his bold resolution, armed 
 him with his armor, and put a helmet of brass upon his head ; 
 also he armed him with a coat of mail. David tried to go, 
 but he takes them off again, saying, "I can not go with 
 these, for I am not accustomed to them." He enters the 
 contest with Goliath, armed only with his shepherd's staff and 
 smooth stones — and conquers. It is the confidence of bold 
 youth that objects to constraint and will not be fettered; it 
 is the assurance of victory, manifested in the shepherd boy 
 whose mind has grown up and gained vigor in contact with 
 nature. But can you suppose that David, after having 
 passed on into the serious struggles of his life, would then also 
 refuse helmet and armor? As he became more deeply engaged 
 in life's battling, he was forced to also adopt life's usages. 
 
50 Judaism and Its History 
 
 though full of the bold spirit of youth. And the same is the 
 case with an idea, if it is to assume real life, that, though it 
 be conscious of its mental and spiritual existence, it must also 
 bear arms and enter the bloody contest of opposition, offered 
 to it from all sides. 
 
 Judaism's doctrine of revelation has not been spared its 
 battles. By struggle, individual man gains strength, he needs 
 it; but here and there it will cover him with dust. Judaism 
 also needed such a struggle against the world, and in conse- 
 quence, many a dust from the earth has settled upon it. In 
 opposition to the whole world, possessed by other conceptions, 
 there arose a small nomadic tribe that had just emerged from 
 a great empire addicted to idolatry. It must needs keep 
 closely together, lest it be crushed beneath the weight of the 
 outside powers. With the divine spirit that had been fanned 
 into life within it, it intended to proclaim a new faith, pre- 
 serve it, and make it victorious throughout the world. A 
 beautiful, grand, sublime, but difficult task! Every contact 
 with the outside world was a snare; every word exchanged 
 with a person outside of its own pale contained a temptation ; 
 every friendly meeting, every meal taken with the outsider 
 was profanation, because it was dedicated to his idols. Thus 
 every closer association was a sin, a temptation offered by the 
 outside world. And could it be avoided that many in Israel 
 jast eager looks at the brilliant pomp surrounding them 
 everywhere? Of course, a living spirit was present in the 
 whole people, not only in the individual, distinguished rep- 
 resentatives who were the implements of shaping and firmly 
 setting the new thoughts in corresponding expressions, it was 
 present in the whole people, even if in lower and weaker 
 degree. But would there not also be many who suffered 
 themselves to be seduced by the material pomp, by the allur- 
 ing prevalence of superior numbers? The entire history of 
 Israel during the period of the first Temple, covering the very 
 establishment of the faith, offers innumerable instances of 
 apostacy, of energetic battling, which the truly enthusiastic, 
 the great men, had to carry on against their wayward ones. 
 
 The closer the seductive influence approached to Israel, 
 
Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 51 
 
 the more the danger increased that the worm of corruption 
 might gnaw into the body of the sound trunk, so much the 
 more had the glowing zeal of the better-minded to increase 
 for keeping that danger at a distance; they were compelled 
 to contend against the inroads of the corruption with all 
 possible determination, with a fire of energy that would not 
 only produce heat, but consume the evil itself. Considering 
 that condition, should we then be surprised, if we find here 
 and there a harsh, severe expression against other nations, 
 that implacable opposition to them is preached and practiced? 
 Should we marvel that in a contest wherein not a bit of 
 territory or some other earthly territory is at stake, but 
 wherein defense is made for an idea which the combatants 
 reverence as their highest treasure; which raises them above 
 the nations, which is destined to be spread over the whole 
 earth by the people chosen for that purpose — should we marvel 
 if the fire of devotion and enthusiasm burns in them in mighty 
 flames and puts them into glowing heat, so that now and then 
 they uttered sentiments which did not always express the 
 purest benevolence, the most friendly consideration for those 
 that wanted to rob them of their most valued treasure by 
 their allurements? We fail altogether to transpose ourselves 
 into that time and its conditions if we gauge, with the large- 
 hearted idea of tolerance appropriate to an age of considerate 
 mutual recognition and appreciation, a time in which two 
 antagonistic convictions were engaged in a struggle of life 
 and death; if we want to judge every harsh word with superior 
 tenderness, if we talk of hostile nationality and national pride 
 (which, by the way, make their appearance even nowadays 
 for vastly less valuable possessions), while the stake was by 
 no means something merely national, but was the protection 
 of freedom of the mind and spirit and the safety of the very 
 foundation of truth, as well as the neutralization of all de- 
 structive influences. No, it must not appear strange if we 
 meet many a severe expression, with many a harsh precept; 
 on the contrary, it must ever be a proof of the mental and 
 spiritual vigor with which the people were endowed, that in 
 those struggles the conscious impulse for holding all mankind 
 
52 Judaism and Its History 
 
 in its embrace and laboring for it has not disappeared out of 
 Israel; that, notwithstanding that hostile attitude which 
 could be but mutual, there always prevailed the word: that 
 this religion came into existence for the benefit of the whole 
 world, that the whole earth should be comprised within its 
 fold. It affords a testimony of the profound spiritual life of 
 Judaism, that the purity and clearness of that idea were never 
 dimmed. We are uplifted indeed when, despite all outbursts 
 of passion engendered by the heat of the conflict, we can again 
 breathe the refreshing spiritual air as it flows from the words 
 of the prophets: "Let not the son of the stranger that has 
 joined himself to God speak, saying, *God has utterly sep- 
 arated me from His people,' neither let the eunuch (the 
 eunuchs of the Persian court are here referred to) say, 
 * Behold, I am a dry tree.' For this saith the Lord unto the 
 eunuchs that keep my festivals, and choose the things that 
 please me, and take hold of my covenant; even unto them I 
 will give in my house and within my walls a place and a name 
 better than of sons and of daughters, an everlasting name that 
 shall not perish. And the sons of the stranger that join them- 
 selves unto God to serve Him and to love His name, that 
 keep the Sabbath from polluting it, and take hold of my 
 covenant: even them I will bring to my holy mountain and 
 make them joyful in my house of prayer, their burnt offerings 
 and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar; for 
 mine house shall be called a house of prayer for all people." 
 ''It is not sufficient," thus we read elsewhere, "that thou 
 alone shouldst be my servant: I will also give thee for a 
 light to the gentiles." And again we read: "And I will also 
 take of them for priests and Levites." All mankind is to be 
 united in the one true service of God. 
 
 It is mere nonsense to assert that Judaism teaches the 
 doctrine of a national god, a god belonging exclusively to the 
 one people. Such an assertion is even childish, made in the 
 very face of the passages quoted and in plain contradiction 
 of the oft-repeated vision of the future when God will be One 
 and His name one. It is true that here and there an expres- 
 sion can be found, apparently attributing some importance to 
 
Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 53 
 
 idols, such as, ''Greater is our Lord than all gods" and others 
 like it. But how does the prophet so often characterize 
 them? *'One breath and there is nothing good in them." 
 And with what fine irony does he show how the gods are 
 made, how the workmen work with their hammers and assist 
 each other, how one portion of the material is used to prepare 
 food with, while the other is employed to fashion a god from it! 
 How can that refer to a national god? Yes, a God is spoken 
 of who was first recognized among that people; nay, was first 
 acknowledged by that nation alone, but who is the God of 
 the whole world, the God whose throne is the heavens and 
 His footstool is the earth? That surely is the God of the 
 world, the God who fills all time and space, the God who 
 shall be acknowledged by all nations. We perceive here 
 the traces of a struggle in which, of course, many expressions 
 must occur that do not wholly and perfectly correspond to 
 the spiritual idea, but lucid clearness is gradually developed. 
 We behold ancient Jacob as he must wrestle in the darkness 
 with a man, they are covered with dust, and he limps because 
 the hollow of his thigh gets out of joint, but yet he prevails, 
 prevails according to both the human and the divine idea, 
 and becomes a blessing to all mankind. 
 
 But Judaism was not intended simply to introduce a new 
 idea concerning God into the world, but also to dignify and 
 ennoble all human relations. The men who taught in ancient 
 time, "The true foundation and the nerve of the Law, What- 
 ever displeases thee, do not unto others, that is the essence 
 and the root of the Law, all the rest is commentary which 
 thou mayest learn at thy leisure," or, "Thou shalt love thy 
 neighbor as thyself, that is the great comprehensive principle 
 of the Law," or, "This is the book of the generations of man, 
 is still a greater principle, conveying the lesson to be a man 
 and to recognize under all conditions, all men as equals and 
 peers" — the men like Hillel, Akiba, and Ben Soma, who 
 taught such lessons, are the props and pillars of Judaism, and 
 we must well take to heart their words. Judaism, I repeat, 
 did nor enter into this world to simply present to it a new idea 
 of God, but to illumine and ennoble all human relations and 
 
54 Judaism and Its History 
 
 to teach the proper recognition and estimate of man. But 
 just with regard to the relation between man and man it is 
 so much the more incidental that the idea must at first appear 
 with limitations, must accommodate itself to existing con- 
 ditions, if it is to have any success. An individual, if he 
 stands separated from his fellow-men by his eminence, does 
 not share their lives, takes no part in their endeavors, will be 
 without influence and will labor without effect, however 
 superior he may be; men may look up to him with reverence, 
 but they will not be influenced by him. If a man wants his 
 work to be effective, he must enter into the existing con- 
 ditions; there must be mutual accommodation. Of course, 
 on the point of the idea of God, there is no compromise, no 
 accommodation possible; there can be no agreement between 
 the Pure Spirit and Corporeality; where the fundamental 
 principle is at stake, Judaism could not choose half-way 
 measures, the opposition had to be contended against with 
 unswerving determination. Not so, concerning the relations 
 between men; there the idea may, even must, perform its 
 work of education and transformation by the process of 
 gradual solution until the hard shell crumbles and falls off. 
 The nations of Antiquity believed that the state could 
 hardly exist without slavery being firmly established within 
 it as irrefutable right. A free citizen should do no labor, 
 that was left to the slave; the slave was the property of his 
 master, a chattel, a mere thing completely subject to the 
 pleasure of his owner. Judaism enters with the idea that 
 every man is called to labor: God places the first man into 
 paradise, the Garden of Eden, but even there, to work it and 
 keep it. Yet, man soon enters into more prosaic conditions 
 and is told : "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." 
 But all men are created in divine image, not the forefather of 
 one nation or another one only, but the progenitor of all, and 
 from him the whole human race has descended, endowed with 
 equal rights. Of course, the complete abolition, the annihila- 
 tion of slavery by Judaism, at its first entrance into the world, 
 would have been in direct conflict with nature and the his- 
 torical development of human relations; it would have proved 
 
Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 55 
 
 an undertaking without the intended salutary results either 
 for the people or for mankind who can be gradually educated 
 but not transformed at one stroke. Hence, slavery was not 
 entirely abolished, but it really existed only in name without 
 its essential substance; the new wine which, poured into the 
 old vessel, must burst it in time. Among the race, within the 
 people itself, real slavery was out of the question ; for the slave 
 served only six years, or regained his freedom even sooner, 
 when the year of jubilee arrived; he then returned to his 
 former civil conditions, of fully equal standing and rights 
 with his brethren. But the slavery of aliens, for that was 
 tolerated — how were alien slaves treated? The smallest 
 injury to the body of a slave, smiting out his tooth, was not 
 regarded as a mere blemish caused by the owner in his prop- 
 erty; no, the slave was free. And the killing of a slave was 
 punished, even if done by the master. And what beautiful 
 precept is this, removing the very sting of stings of slavery: 
 "Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the slave that is 
 escaped from him unto thee : he shall dwell with thee in thy 
 cities which he may choose. Do not deceive him.** 
 
 With those words a problem was solved thousands of 
 years ago, which in our day left its bloody traces on a whole 
 continent, and came near rending it in twain. And yet, the 
 inhabitants of that country are professors of the dominant 
 religion, some of whom cleave to that branch which claims to 
 be the sole and only saving Church, and others cling to the 
 form of tenacious puritanism, and both with the missionary 
 fever of making converts. The fight had in its beginning 
 nothing to do with the nature of slavery, whether or not it 
 should be permitted to exist; one section had repudiated it 
 for itself, but had hitherto found it altogether right to pre- 
 serve it as a constitutional institution in the other. The 
 whole question was mainly narrowed down to this: whether 
 a slave who had fled into the Free States must be delivered 
 to his master, whether it was not theft to allow him to remain 
 away from his master; whether, in that case, rights were not 
 violated and the very idea of justice shaken. That question 
 of a punctilious conscientiousness was settled by Judaism 
 
56 Judaism and Its History 
 
 three thousand years ago; and when Judaism shall have pre- 
 vailed, when its spirit shall animate all men, when the spirit 
 proceeding from it, undiluted and in full, shall have spread 
 everywhere, then that question will be finally decided. 
 Truth and real right, humanity and recognition of the human 
 dignity of every individual will then, and only then, prevail 
 over that sham- justice which boasts the more insolently, the 
 shallower it is itself. 
 
 The regard in which domestic life is held by a nation is of 
 still higher moment. A dark shadow rests on the Greek 
 nation, otherwise so finely gifted and beautifully developed, 
 that the sanctity of matrimonial life comes so little to the 
 front, that the unity of the family finds so little expression; 
 the worth of woman according to her true character has not 
 been properly appreciated in Hellenism. How different that 
 is in Judaism! At the very beginning we find the idea 
 expressed: A man leaveth his father and his mother, and 
 cleaveth unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh — an essen- 
 tial unity. The reverence due to parents, however diligently 
 taught, however fervently cultivated, is secondary to that 
 ardent attachment that should bind husband and wife 
 together in domestic life. The wife shall follow her husband: 
 "To thy husband is thy desire, though he rule over thee," 
 yet in full equality; he joins himself to his wife, they become 
 one being, one house. 
 
 And what noble pictures of woman we find throughout the 
 Jewish literature! What noble relation within the families 
 — simple, unpretending, yet great and heart-refreshing! 
 The wives of the patriarchs occupy almost the same position 
 with their husbands. Later generations regard them both 
 alike. And what a picture of life is presented to us when, for 
 instance, we contemplate Rebekah as at first she appears in 
 the unrestraint of maiden innocence, friendly and kind- 
 hearted toward the stranger, readily complying with his 
 request to give him water to drink, and caring even for his 
 camels. She steps with him into the house of her folks, and 
 behold ! he has been sent hither by a highly respected kinsman 
 from a distant land to ask for the daughter. Rebekah is 
 
Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 57 
 
 asked; free choice is left to her — "Wilt thou go with this 
 man?'* Her heart tells her that yonder is the place where 
 she will attain full development and she replies, "I will go." 
 She starts upon her journey; without restraint she looks all 
 around; all at once she observes the man to whom she is 
 destined to be a companion for life and she asks, *'What man 
 is this that walketh in the field to meet us?" The servant 
 replies, *'It is the son of my master." Maidenly blushes 
 mantle her face, and she covers herself with a veil. "He 
 brought her into his mother's tent, and he loved her." Jacob 
 takes his wife, Rachel, home; he had served for her seven 
 years, "and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the 
 love he had to her." Farther on, we read the history of the 
 great Liberator; his infancy is beset by great dangers. Moses 
 was born when dark clouds hovered above Israel. They put 
 him in an ark of bulrushes and lay it among the flags by the 
 river's brink; his sister Miriam cannot endure remaining at 
 home ; she hurries near to the place, to know what would be 
 done to him. The king's daughter comes down to wash her- 
 self, she notices the ark, opens it and sees the child. The girl, 
 generally timid and embarrassed, but courageous now when 
 her brother's life is in the balance, steps out and asks, "Shall 
 I go and call thee a nurse of the Hebrew women?" We do 
 not find it strange that Miriam who, while young, exhibited 
 such devoted courage, appeared later as prophetess. And 
 our ancient teachers say of her indeed: "Miriam was for 
 Israel like a fresh fountain whence refreshing waters pour 
 forth" — she had glowing enthusiasm for truth, joined with 
 the devotion of a woman's heart. And again our ancient 
 teachers say with profound insight: "Through the merits of 
 their women, the Israelites were delivered from Egypt." 
 The men were given over to oppression, they were forced to 
 hard labor. Who guarded their homes, who attended to the 
 morals of their children, who watched over the domestic 
 hearth, who held up the standard of purity and chastity? It 
 was the mothers in Israel who attended to those matters, it 
 was their work that Israel was made worthy of deliverance 
 from the dangers that surrounded them. We proceed still 
 
58 Judaism and Its History 
 
 farther, we enter upon the period which appears to be a dim, 
 confused age of heroes, the time of the Judges when the loose 
 tie of the tribes was dissolving and their union was to all 
 appearances breaking up. Now in one place, then in another, 
 a Judge appeared, a light was started; and again a beautiful 
 figure rises before us, Deborah the prophetess and Judge, a 
 brave and courageous woman, an enthusiastic leader, and yet 
 fully conscious of her womanhood. She does not want to go 
 into battle, amazon-like, and says to Barak, "It will not be 
 unto thy honor that thou shalt gain the victory through the 
 hand of a woman." But since he will not undertake to fight 
 without her, she consents to go with him, and gains the 
 victory ; and afterwards she announces it in a song, chastising 
 and praising like a true prophetess of God. And later, after 
 that period, when matters appear as settling down into more 
 tranquil conditions, at the very threshold of this new epoch, 
 we meet again with a woman who demands our reverence; it 
 is Hannah, the mother of Samuel. With the yearning of a 
 genuine woman who laments that children are denied her and 
 fervently, from the very bottom of her heart, she prays to 
 her God, "for I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit." And 
 Elkanah, her husband, comforts her: " Hannah, why weepest 
 thou? Am I not better to thee than ten sons?" What pro- 
 found affection those few words express! And Ruth — ^what 
 a lovely picture! A Judean has emigrated into a foreign land 
 where his two sons get them wives. The man dies, and both 
 sons also pass away without leaving children. The mother, 
 Naomi, is returning to her native country and the second 
 daughter-in-law — the other one is too much a Moabite to go 
 with her and turns back at the last moment — Ruth, goes with 
 Naomi, saying, "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return 
 from following after thee: for whither thou goest I will go, 
 and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my 
 people, and thy God my God;" and she follows her as an 
 obedient child, remains her daughter, lovingly cares for her 
 and is her devoted companion — is she not worthy to be the 
 ancestress of David? 
 
 All that is told with childlike simplicity, without embellish- 
 
Nationality, Slavery, Woman's Position 59 
 
 ing pomp, because it is part of the very nature of Israel, and 
 it must come to the surface, although we often see it come in 
 only as insignificant shading in the picture. Can you then 
 wonder that among that people — a rare example in Antiquity 
 — woman was not treated with disregard, can we wonder that 
 the scanty remains of the literature of that people, the whole 
 compendium of which is almost exclusively devoted to 
 religious life and historical narrative, nevertheless contains a 
 booklet which is designated as the Song of Love? At a time 
 when the pressure from without weighed them down, when 
 not the consecration of the senses, but their suppression, when 
 not the glorification of natural life, but its deadening, were 
 regarded as piety, it was impossible to conceive that the little 
 book, taken in its plain, natural meaning, was intended to 
 extol a fine, pure love. Granted even that it contained also 
 a so-called deeper meaning, this much is at all events certain : 
 a picture must be true if it is to mirror a higher relation. 
 However — as a recent ingenious scholar observes — ^when the 
 poet was singing, the language had not yet died the agonizing 
 death of its holiness; fresh, natural vitality coursed through 
 it then, and the song that glorifies love flowed quick and alive 
 from the poet's heart. And as a consequence, we find in the 
 booklet many a sensual embellishment. But with what 
 depth is the higher, nobler nature of love depicted, what 
 fervor do even these few lines express: "I sleep, but my 
 heart is awake." A world of feeling is shown, and we may 
 well say without further commenting on its contents, that 
 whoever reads the little book with a pure mind will find that 
 profound emotions are described in it in noble expression. 
 
 It is but natural that a later poet also indulges in the con- 
 sideration of the virtuous woman, and the conclusion of his 
 proverbs and lessons of wisdom is devoted to her glorification. 
 ''Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above 
 pearls.'* *'Who can find her?" does not mean that she is 
 rare; no, he describes her in full, and he that has found her 
 has obtained a precious treasure. And he concludes with, 
 *'Her children arise and call her blessed, her husband also, 
 and he praiseth her. Favor is deceitful and beauty evanes- 
 
60 Judaism and Its History 
 
 cent, but a God-fearing woman, she shall be praised." Only 
 the subtle, melancholy Ecclesiastes who can find hardly one 
 tolerable man among thousands, can not find in a thousand 
 women one that is not treacherous and cunning. But that 
 is not the general view running through the literature of 
 Judaism, and if isolated Oriental opinion mingles in, the pure 
 estimation of woman, the moral eminence of matrimonial life, 
 remain the fundamental principle. 
 
 Judaism teaches the marriage of one wife to one man, 
 monogamy. Although exceptions are now and then met 
 with, they are simply exceptions which are explained by the 
 fact that the tendency could not at once take full effect by 
 formulating a law at a time when the opposite practice ruled 
 among the nations all around; but monogamy alone is in 
 agreement with the fundamental principle of Judaism, and 
 with thorough union of husband and wife. It is therefore 
 but natural that in later times, when external influences 
 became different, a teacher appeared in Europe who put the 
 ban on every one that should violate the natural law of 
 Judaism. And even in such countries where polygamy is the 
 rule, Judaism had repudiated it, and though not prohibited 
 there by a distinct law, practice, which is always the living 
 spirit in Judaism, had ruled it out long ago, even if legally 
 permissible. By such fruits Judaism is known, and a noble 
 family life has at all times been cultivated in Israel. Of 
 course, courts of love, love's tournaments, and playing at love, 
 were unknown to Judaism, just as it was unable to fathom 
 the mystery of unconscious virginity coupled with the feelings 
 of a mother. Healthful and energetic, pure and fresh was the 
 clear fountain flowing forth from their homes over all their 
 relations in life; pure domestic life has at all times kept Israel 
 fresh and vigorous. Having supported them during the days 
 of oppression, it will not disappear from among them in better 
 times, and the exclamation of Balaam at the sight of Israel 
 encamped according to its tribes will ever remain true: 
 "How beautiful are thy tents, O Jacob, thy habitations, O 
 Israel!" 
 
V. 
 
 Sacrificial Service and Priesthood. 
 Divided Nationality. 
 
 The conception of Deity by a nation is also the gauge for 
 its views of morality, and vice versa. The higher or lower 
 moral culture of a people is an infallible index of its more or 
 less enlightened religious convictions. As the savage indi- 
 vidual, so also does an uncivilized people, living in a state of 
 nature, respect and honor superior force only. The power 
 which it exercises over others or which others can enforce 
 against it, affords the measure of the estimation with which 
 it claims, or in which it holds others. Neither justice nor 
 moral worth nor purity of moral sentiment is of any value in 
 its eye, but pre-eminently and essentially, brute force, worldly 
 power. A man without education and culture, just as an 
 uncivilized people, bows before his superior who can make 
 him or it feel his power; and on the other hand, they are rude 
 and tyrannical towards their inferiors. A people which as 
 yet has but a religious instinct and has not yet worked its 
 way towards a clear conception of religion, which is not yet 
 permeated by a higher idea, recognizes in God at first a 
 mighty being and fears the power that shows the ability to 
 crush it. It bows before that power just as it bows before a 
 man of superior force, but on the other hand, its treatment 
 of others whom it regards as its subordinates shows what low 
 position it occupies with regard to morality. Therefore, the 
 very views concerning slavery and the treatment of the 
 weaker sex, is a true gauge for the high or low plane of their 
 religious ideas. Judaism — as we have shown by the pre- 
 ceding considerations — establishes itself as a religion that 
 adores God as the Holy One, as the ideal of moral purity, by 
 the fact that it invariably emphasizes moral worth also in its 
 
62 Judaism and Its History 
 
 human relations, that it does not recognize the mightier ones 
 as possessing exclusive rights, but grants them power only so 
 far as they are justly entitled thereto. Justice, the pure, 
 moral relation between man and man, is its highest con- 
 sideration, the gauge wherewith to measure the conditions. 
 That difference in the plane of culture occupied by various 
 nations must eminently manifest itself in their divine worship, 
 in the manner in which God is approached it is bound to 
 show, whether men have a presentiment of God only as a 
 higher power, whether they tremble before Him and seek to 
 conciliate Him, or whether they worship Him as the Holy 
 One, look up to Him as the pattern of highest morality, the 
 purest expression of mercy and benevolence. Wherever, 
 above all, only the power of God is recognized, the tendency 
 predominates of courting His favor, men will bow before Him 
 that He may not pour His wrath upon them ; they will try by 
 some act or other to win His good graces, to procure His kind 
 consideration, to ward off His displeasure by offering to Him 
 gifts and undergoing privations. That is the origin of 
 sacrificial worship. Sacrifice expresses the endeavor to win 
 favor or soften the possible wrath of God, or at least to show 
 Him in what deep subjection one is to Him, by offering to 
 Him and depriving oneself of something, be it even the 
 dearest object, if it may be pleasing in His sight. The 
 crudest manifestation of such a feeling exhibited at the lowest 
 stage of religious life is human sacrifice, especially the sacrifice 
 of those nearest and dearest to us. Rude heathenism sacri- 
 ficed its children to the gods. The dearest and most priceless 
 treasure — that is the meaning of such sacrifice — I offer unto 
 my God, and He will be pleased therewith because I do not 
 hesitate to deaden every feeling and emotion within me and 
 to give up to His pleasure the dearest treasure I possess. 
 That lowest religious sentiment is a complete misconception 
 of the Divine Being, that He is to be conciliated by slavish 
 self-degradation and self-imposed cruelty; it is fear of the 
 cruel and arbitrary element as Deity, and cruelty and arbi- 
 trariness in man is nurtured by it. That was the religion all 
 around Israel, the worship of God or gods among those nations 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 63 
 
 that now and then ruled over Israel and were at all times in 
 such close contact with Israel, that the sentiment necessarily 
 became known to the people and here and there had its 
 influence. The worship of Moloch is well known to have been 
 one that demanded human sacrifices; to burn one's own 
 children was the terrible sacrificial service designated as the 
 worship of God. 
 
 Judaism carried on an energetic war against that degrada- 
 tion of the Divine Being; for that kind of sacrificial service, 
 it knows no mercy. It is true, traces of it are imprinted also 
 in its history; it influenced weak minds that believed to 
 perceive in the self-suppression of the tenderest emotions an 
 act of devotion to God; but with what indignation do the 
 prophets inveigh against that eruption of the most brutal 
 heathenism! At its very threshold, Judaism makes the 
 individual patriarch go through that struggle in his mind and 
 gain a glorious victory. "£ZoMm tempted Abraham." Various 
 names of God are used in Holy Writ, and our ancient teachers 
 give us an ingenious explanation: "Elohim" represents 
 God as the Mighty One, the Rigorous One, which attribute is 
 also reverenced in God, as the other nations likewise recognize 
 him in some manner, but the other name, **He is" — the 
 Ineffable, as we have become acquainted with it — the Eter- 
 nally Existent, underlying all earthly and spiritual existence, 
 "the God of the spirits for all flesh," is the God of mercy, of 
 benevolence, of ardent love and kindness toward man. 
 Elohim tempted Abraham. The old conception of God, as it 
 then predominated, was uppermost also in the mind of 
 Abraham, the recognition of that Divine Power has posses- 
 sion of him to such a degree that he wants to show himself as 
 its obedient servant. "Offer thine only son, whom thou 
 lovest!" What greater treasure hast thou acquired, where- 
 with canst thou better manifest thy submissiveness? He is 
 ready for the sacrifice, everything is prepared for its consum- 
 mation; then a messenger of the God "He is" calls from 
 heaven: "Lay not thy hand upon the lad!" The higher 
 knowledge of God awakens in him: God is mighty, but is 
 He not also all-kind? God is all-powerful, but is that power 
 
64 Judaism and Its History 
 
 a tyrannical one? Does it demand of man that he should 
 not ennoble his feelings, but that, on the contrary, he should 
 deaden them? Is it worship of God to mutilate myself, or to 
 mutilate or immolate the only child I call my own? No, 
 "Lay not thy hand upon the lad" — that is the true worship 
 of the All-merciful one, and Abraham did not sacrifice his 
 child. Not his readiness to offer that sacrifice constitutes the 
 true piety of Abraham, but his omission of it; not the will of 
 offering his son, but the deed of preserving him; not that he 
 shows blind submission to the Divine Power by tearing his 
 child from his heart, but that he recognizes God in His sublime 
 and true nature, constitutes his true, enlightened piety. 
 Therefore it is not proper to always point to Abraham's 
 willingness to offer his son as an act of extreme piety — he was 
 and is an example of piety because he omitted that sacrifice. 
 
 Thus we find at the very outset the picture of that struggle, 
 together with the victory of pure moral conviction, and that 
 victory runs through the whole of Judaism. The service of 
 Moloch is detested as an abomination which God abhors, 
 which deeply degrades men ; and whenever a horrible place is 
 to be mentioned, the Valley of Hinnom is named, the location 
 where sacrifices were offered to Moloch. "Ge Hinnom,^* the 
 Valley of Hinnom, Gehinnom, Gehenna, later became the 
 designation of the place where all evil is concentrated, where 
 the severest punishment is dealt out, where damnation dwells; 
 in one word, it became the name for hell. Human sacrifice 
 was thus most energetically contended against in Judaism; 
 no compromise was possible on that point. 
 
 But animal sacrifice is no less the expression of a low 
 religious sentiment. Animal sacrifice, too, has for its object 
 the winning of favor by giving up some property without 
 tending to moral reform and furthering moral ennoblement. 
 Nor did animal sacrifice spring from the soil of Judaism, it 
 was tolerated, and only tolerated ; it was continually inveighed 
 against by Israel's best and noblest men, the prophets, who 
 point out its low degree in the most emphatic terms. The 
 prophet Micah says: "Wherewith shall I come before God, 
 bow myself before the High God? Shall I come before Him 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 65 
 
 with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old ? Will the Lord 
 be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of 
 rivers of oil? Shall I give my first-born for my transgression, 
 the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He hath showed 
 thee, O man, what is good, and what doth God require of 
 thee but to do justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly 
 with thy God?'* That is the manifesto of prophetism against 
 sacrifice, and that manifesto is often repeated, is authenticated 
 everywhere in the same manner, though differently worded. 
 '"To what purpose,* saith the Lord, *is the multitude of your 
 sacrifices unto me, I am full of the burnt offerings of rams and 
 the fat of fed beasts, I delight not in the blood of bullocks 
 or of lambs or of he-goats'." "Wilt thou offer sacrifices unto 
 me," says the psalmist, "am I hungry? If I were hungry, need 
 I tell thee? Is not the cattle upon a thousand hills mine?" 
 Away with sacrifice! — And Jeremiah pronounces with dry 
 soberness and really with almost surprising directness: "I 
 spake not unto your fathers, saith the Lord, nor commanded 
 them when I brought them out of the land of Egypt concern- 
 ing burnt offerings or sacrifices." More clearly and emphatic- 
 ally, it cannot be expressed. Yet, the institution of sacrifi- 
 cial service was so deeply rooted in the universal conviction, 
 was to such an extent the expression corresponding to the 
 natural religious promptings, that it made its way also into 
 Israel. And as everything corporeal occupies space, whereas 
 the spiritual, being in mind and heart, is not visible in space, 
 the regulations and laws concerning sacrifices may, of course, 
 occupy a very great space; but nevertheless it is but the 
 expression of something tolerated. And if you desire another 
 strong proof of that, examine the Repetition of the Law, in 
 Deuteronomy, and notice how the provisions concerning sac- 
 rifices have dwindled down, are merely indicated as something 
 customary, but are not elaborated with the extensiveness 
 which such an important branch of divine worship, if it were 
 a direct command, could properly claim. Sacrifice was a 
 tolerated institution in Judaism, and speedily it vanished 
 away. During the period of the Second Temple, numerous 
 Houses of Prayer arose as a victorious power, rivals of the 
 
66 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Temple at Jerusalem, where sacrifice was still retained and 
 which as a symbol of unity of the Commonwealth, preserved 
 its significance while those Houses of Worship actually rose 
 above that Temple in spiritual importance. And when the 
 latter was destroyed, sacrificial service also was buried 
 beneath its ruins. We have before emphasized the idea that 
 whatever is truly fundamental in a religion can not be sepa- 
 rated from it, however unpropitious the circumstances sur- 
 rounding it may be: the very spirit contends against the 
 separation, and seeks the preservation of the matter; if it can 
 not be preserved in the old form, transformation is resorted 
 to. It is as though the whole foundation were injured; 
 hence this dilemma presents itself: either complete dissolution 
 or preservation with proper natural expression. When pagan- 
 ism perished in its forms, its very spiritual foundation fell 
 with it. If the sacrificial idea had been a necessary element in 
 Judaism, sacrificial service would certainly have outlived the 
 destruction of the Temple, and attempts were made to con- 
 tinue it. But the very idea had become completely exhausted. 
 Sacrifice had lost its hold upon the hearts and minds of the 
 people; it was an inherited custom, an institution upon which 
 some political offices were based, upon which the authority 
 of so many leaders and their employees rested, and which, 
 therefore, could not have been overthrown all at once. But as 
 soon as the storm burst upon the Commonwealth, the disrooted 
 tree became a sport for the winds, and sacrifice is vanished 
 from Israel, and will forever remain vanished. Every estab- 
 lishment of religion on the basis of sacrificial worship, of a sac- 
 rifice that was offered once upon a time, be it animal, human, 
 or even divine, every longing, retrospective glance at the 
 ancient sacrifices as being manifestation of a fuller and loftier 
 life, every assertion that sacrificial service had vanished for the 
 present and must therefore be represented by a certain prayer 
 — every such acknowledgment attributing spirituality to sac- 
 rifice is a relapse into heathenism. Together with the animal 
 which is offered up as a sacrifice unto God, the loftier relig- 
 ious knowledge is immolated; from the ashes, with the smoke 
 of the sacrificial animal curling towards heaven, rises an idol. 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 67 
 
 Sacrificial worship, wherever it is practiced, requires also 
 an especial method of operation. It demands special em- 
 ployees for its management; there must be specially designated 
 persons who understand how to offer the sacrifices, who are 
 consecrated in order to be better prepared to appear before 
 their gods, or God. The worship of God through sacrifice is 
 the mother of Priesthood ; priests are necessary as officers to 
 conciliate the gods, to approach them in an appropriate 
 manner. Priesthood in its connection with sacrifice, is not a 
 straight growth out of the native soil of Judaism. Even at the 
 outset, before the Ten Commandments had been proclaimed, 
 God commanded Moses to tell the people, "Ye shall be unto 
 me a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation. These are the 
 words which thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel." 
 All shall be priests! In the religion of Judaism there is no 
 need for mediation by particular persons, every one shall be 
 his own priest, his own mediator between himself and God. 
 Priesthood was merely tolerated in Judaism, and again a con- 
 tinued war against it runs through the whole history. Tales 
 of the discontent against their priesthood, both in the first 
 time of its establishment, and at later periods, are not isolated 
 instances, they are a characteristic element of the national 
 life of the Jews. On the one hand, the want of it exists; the 
 people have not yet passed beyond the stage of sacrificial 
 worship, hence there must be priests; but since they have to 
 be on hand, they must exhibit special purity, must not be 
 priests of idols, but priests of the True God, so that they might 
 be leaders to the people in purity of morals and in honest 
 endeavor of self-improvement. But, after all, every insti- 
 tution which arises from a mere yielding to human weakness, car- 
 ries along with it the defects of its low origin. The priests did not 
 come up to that standard during the first period of Judaism. 
 The prophets continually contended against the priests. 
 "The priests that despise my name." "Both priests and 
 people, all are alike full of sin." They are inveighed against 
 for the selfish motives that they joined and carried out along 
 with their prominent office. Thus, then, priesthood is a 
 tolerated institution, not an integral part of Judaism. When 
 
68 Judaism and Its History 
 
 idolatry was subdued by means of the one Temple, and those 
 of the priestly estate who belonged to that Temple gained 
 greater respect thereby, priesthood was highly honored for a 
 time, so that after the return from the Babylonish captivity 
 the descendants of those priests became also rulers. But 
 they preserved their authority only for a brief period; even 
 then, during the time of the second Temple, they did not 
 come up to the expectations entertained of them. Therefore 
 again a struggle was carried on against them with all energy, 
 and again we read in one of the later books: "God hath 
 given unto all the inheritance, the priesthood, and sanctifica- 
 tion." Equality for all! And again, all the earlier writings 
 of that second period state that the priests had not proven 
 true, that they were selfish, poor in religious knowledge. As 
 during the existence of the first Temple alongside of the 
 priests of lower degree, there had arisen the great men of 
 God, the prophets, men who performed no priestly function, 
 who were no descendants of the priestly caste, so we find 
 during the period of the second Temple, alongside of the 
 priests, the teachers, the men of the law and of knowledge, 
 men who rose from the humblest classes of the people, but 
 were permeated by the spirit of God. 
 
 Priesthood, too, fell with the Temple, and though isolated 
 fragments of the disintegrated structure remain, although cer- 
 tain arrangements connected therewith still continue a feeble 
 existence, they are nothing but fragments which may retain 
 a significance as reminiscences of Antiquity, but they are not 
 in line or touch with the essence of Judaism, or true Jewish 
 piety. 
 
 Thus the world-reforming Idea of Judaism manifests 
 itself. I have essayed in a few outlines, to present to you its 
 innate power, its substance as well as several of its important 
 practical manifestations. The world-reforming and world- 
 moving Idea of Judaism naturally required for its practical 
 introduction a ready host bearing its arms; it required a 
 numerous, united multitude raising high the banner of their 
 idea, ready for victory or death. A compact nationality, a 
 thoroughly united community was necessary, if the Idea 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 69 
 
 would claim recognition as a legitimate power. Right here 
 enters the conflict manifested in all phenomena of history. 
 The idea is comprehensive, but it requires its standard- 
 bearers, and those must be compactly organized, lest they be 
 scattered. The Idea of Judaism is a world-comprising one, but 
 it required an individual nation for its first introduction into 
 the world. That thereby contradictions arose, that universal 
 humanity and nationality came into conflict with each other, 
 we have already endeavored to show in several instances. 
 
 But another thought suggests itself in that connection. 
 It is the lot of all culture-historic nations which have exercised 
 a profound influence upon the whole world, that with all their 
 spiritually powerful unity, they are not able to attain to a 
 perfect political unity. A nation that has not such a brilliant 
 mission to fulfill, unites more closely and easily for the per- 
 formance of the task allotted to it. Every nation consists of 
 various tribes, but the more cultured, powerful one rises above 
 the rest and gathers them under its sway, and unity results. 
 But nations permeated by a more profound spirit, borne by a 
 mightier idea can not so easily arrive at unity. Look at the 
 Greek people! The Doric, the Ionian, the Attic, the Lacede- 
 monian tribes — all of the Greek type and character, in all of 
 them the power of the Greek spirit crops out — but that spirit 
 was too vast not to be formed in different expressions; each 
 tribe had its own clear-cut peculiarity, and none of those 
 peculiarities would suffer itself to be effaced by the other ones. 
 The Greek people did not attain a political unity; each tribe 
 would preserve its own distinctiveness. Of course, a unity of 
 spirit did exist among them; and that spiritual unity was 
 indeed powerful enough to resist hostile assaults. History 
 does not record how Persian diplomats might have regarded 
 the small nation with silent contempt, and many a statesman 
 may have expressed the opinion that Hellas was but a geo- 
 graphical term comprising but individual tribes which could 
 be easily subdued. But the powerful Persian Empire stumbled 
 against that geographical term and had a great fall that 
 came near breaking it, and we would hardly know anything 
 of the Persians and their mighty empire if the same Hellas 
 
70 Judaism and Its History 
 
 and despised and enslaved Judea had not furnished us with 
 information about them. The unity of the Greek people was 
 strong, the national consciousness was its living tie and 
 bond, yet they never attained to a really compacted political 
 united state. Only when its vital energy flagged and its 
 peculiarity began to vanish, a ruder tribe, the Macedonian, 
 came to the surface, forced them together into a unit, and 
 spread the shallow remnants of Grecian culture all over the 
 world — but it was no longer true Greek genius, genuine 
 Hellenism. Yet, for all that, Hellenism has not perished, it 
 revived repeatedly to refresh the world; its spirit did not die, 
 although the nation itself perished and had never presented a 
 real political unity. In the same manner, although not to 
 the same extent, the Italian states of the Middle Ages appear 
 in history. They were states small in territory, but great in 
 their characteristic peculiarities which are so sharply marked 
 and so deeply graven into the culture and historic develop- 
 ment of their people that each was determined to preserve its 
 own type, and thus a union into one state was not possible. 
 Whether Piedmont is destined to become the Italian Mace- 
 donian, the future will show. Does Germany present the 
 same picture? Does she, too, occupy a culture-historic posi- 
 tion in history? And is each one of her races for that reason 
 intent upon preserving its independence so that they may 
 never attain to that unity which they crave with their whole 
 heart? Is the German nation destined not to become a greater 
 state but a great mental factor in mankind? Well, it is not 
 the worst destiny that may be allotted to a people, though it 
 is painful and sadly grievous to the patriot who desires not its 
 mental and spiritual importance only, but also its full direc- 
 tive power. 
 
 Be that as it may, Israel was such a people. Israel too, 
 had an Idea which went beyond its national existence, and for 
 that very reason, that idea assumed different forms of expres- 
 sion in the several tribes, so that a thorough unity of their 
 political life could not be arrived at. The ancient history of 
 the Jewish people has reached us in very fragmentary form, 
 conceived and rendered by its writers from their several and 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 71 
 
 individual points of view only; a great part presented by its 
 conception by that tribe which, in the end, remained the 
 victor; namely, the tribe of Judah. Furthermore, that 
 history is always written from the point of view as to whether 
 the people were sinful or not, as to whether the kings were 
 devout or remiss. Besides, there are, in the history of a 
 state or nation many other factors ; and although the working 
 out of the true conception of God was its proper task, there 
 was also a more general history of the Jewish state which has 
 come down to us in fragments only, and we have to guess at 
 it together again by ourselves. The people lived in tribes, that 
 the whole history shows ; each individual tribe remained rather 
 independent for a long time; the tribes joined themselves 
 together into several unions. Of that grouping, we have 
 various information: a grouping into four divisions repre- 
 sented by descent from four mothers, which indicated a 
 certain dividing line between the tribes, and marked each 
 division as belonging together by itself. Besides that divi- 
 sion, we find another grouping of the tribes as they were 
 camped in the desert, three invariably march under the 
 banner of one chief tribe, but upon that arrangement into 
 four parts we are also informed very little. On the other 
 hand, another division is exhibited as decisive from the 
 earliest time. I say, from the earliest time, for it is a very 
 significant remark made by our ancient teachers: "The his- 
 tory of our patriarchs, the first founders of Israel, is of great 
 significance for the history of later times." The traits which 
 determine the history of the later time, are pointed out. 
 Now, from the very beginning, Reuben, Ephraim, and Judah, 
 are presented as the chief tribes. 
 
 Reuben, the first-born, who has the legal claim of pri- 
 mogeniture which is not acknowledged, is the first tribe to 
 settle down, to acquire territory, and thus to gain importance 
 beyond the other tribes, yet fails to get their confidence. 
 Reuben claims leadership, he seeks — so it is told of the 
 patriarch Reuben, and it forms the characteristics of the tribe 
 — to take possession of his father's concubine and thereby to 
 acquire dominion. With rare exceptions in the most ancient 
 
72 Judaism and Its History 
 
 times, we find among the Jews concubines only with kings; 
 whoever took possession of them indicated thereby that he 
 claimed the dominion. Therefore the prophet Nathan in his 
 sermon to David on account of his misdoings with Bathsheba 
 said that he should have been satisfied that God had given 
 him the wives of his former master, Saul. When Absalom 
 sought to usurp the dominion of his father David, his cunning 
 counsellor Ahitophel saith to him: "Go in unto thy father's 
 concubines which he hath left to keep the house, and all 
 Israel shall hear that thou hast broken with thy father; then 
 shall the hands of all that are with thee, be strong." Another 
 rebellion threatened David by the Benjaminite Sheba, the 
 son of Bichri whom all Israel joined, with the exception of 
 Judah. Then David "took the ten women, his concubines, 
 whom he had left to keep the house, and put them in ward, 
 and fed them, but went not in to them, and they were shut up 
 unto the day of their death, living in widowhood." The 
 reason for that proceeding is not that he abhorred intercourse 
 with the women that had been violated by Absalom, but 
 rather because he wanted to protect them against another 
 attack, and himself against the usurpation of another pre- 
 tender, and thus, while his throne was tottering, he volun- 
 tarily resigned his royal prerogative. When Adonijah, who 
 had also unsuccessfully sought to usurp the reign during the 
 life-time of David, received after the king's death, permission 
 to remain in the country, he goes to Bathsheba, the mother 
 of Solomon, and tells her: "Speak, I pray thee, to Solomon, 
 the king, that he give me Abishag, the Shunamite" — who 
 attended David in his last years — "to wife." Which appears 
 to her a harmless request, and Bathsheba innocently conveys 
 that request of Adonijah to Solomon, but Solomon takes 
 offense and says: "Ask for him the kingdom also." To the 
 writer of the Books of Kings, the connection between the 
 request for Abishag as the concubine of David, and an attempt 
 at usurpation of the crown, is something very serious, and to 
 justify Solomon's suspicion, he has the tale of Abishag's 
 reception by David, and Adonijah's rebelfion during David's 
 lifetime quite close together, as if to illustrate that second 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 73 
 
 attempt. You see that the intercourse with the concubines 
 of the father and ruler involved also a claim to the acquisition 
 of dominion ; and thus the pretension of the tribe is mirrored 
 in the proceeding of its progenitor Reuben. Reubenites, 
 Dathan and Abiram, revolted against Moses; the whole of 
 them appear almost as seceders, and the other tribes of Israel 
 do not trust them. When a national war was being fought, 
 the prophetess Deborah exclaims: "Reuben, why bodest 
 thou among the sheep-folds? to hear the blea tings of the 
 flocks? for as to the divisions of Reuben there were serious 
 doubts." Thus Reuben is pushed into the background, is 
 blamed, though he has his claims which, however, find no 
 favor. He wants to save Joseph, but he is not listened to; he 
 is ready to offer himself as hostage for Benjamin, but receives 
 no answer; he afterwards complains that he had not been 
 obeyed, but no attention is paid to his complaint. When 
 Jacob blesses his sons before his death, he says: "Reuben, 
 thou art my first-born, my might, and the beginning of my 
 strength, destined for the excellency of dignity and the excel- 
 lency of power; but unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." 
 Moses says in his blessing: "Let Reuben live, and not die, 
 although his men be few" — and nothing more. The tribe of 
 Reuben was the first to disappear. Even before the other 
 tribes were carried into exile, his land was conquered and the 
 inhabitants carried into captivity. That is one tribe that 
 aspired to prominence, but could not obtain it for any length 
 of time. 
 
 Another tribe, more powerful, is that of Ephraim. The 
 history of Ephraim from his earliest time, or rather, that of 
 Joseph, his father, is overcast with real charms; it is a pro- 
 totype of the later time, of the history of the tribe itself. 
 Joseph is also a first-born son — he is the first-born son of the 
 beloved wife, of that wife who was the wife of Jacob, whom 
 he had beheld first, for whom he had served, whom he loved, 
 and whom he bore in his heart as long as he lived. Joseph 
 himself, a lovely, beautiful youth, how noble is his conduct 
 everywhere! Dreaming, he peers into the future, but just 
 therein appears the aspiring disposition, a profound pre- 
 
74 Judaism and Its History 
 
 sentiment of his future importance and greatness, and not 
 only that he is great and becomes great in authority, but he 
 is also great morally. His purity is proven by his resisting 
 all temptations, he remains guileless and cheerful by the 
 innocence of his heart amidst the heaviest trials. But he 
 removes to a strange land ; his greatness is exhibited in exten- 
 sion of power outside, rather than within. Such are the 
 indications about the tribe of Ephraim. We do not know 
 enough about him to demonstrate his importance fully; the 
 accounts have all a Judean coloring, have reached us through 
 Judean channels, and yet his prominent position shines 
 through them everywhere. Out of Ephraim is he that first 
 enters Canaan: Joshua is an Ephraimite, and he is the 
 successor of Moses. Ephraim is the first to establish the 
 power of Israel. The first prophets arose in Ephraim and 
 proclaimed the noble, high-minded spirit reigning there. Of 
 course, it has the temptation and impulse to become a great 
 power; it is not satisfied with occupying an important posi- 
 tion within Israel, and often attempts conquests. The chief 
 power in Israel wants to be a Great Power in Asia, and yet 
 fails to attain its purpose of ruling all Israel. 
 
 By the side of Ephraim we* meet Judah. Judah, gloomier, 
 less attractive, is in his whole appearance more self-contained 
 and secluded, more austere, and through that austerity, more 
 tenacious and impelled to develop the idea farther. Judah 
 saves Joseph from death; Judah offers himself as surety for 
 Benjamin, when Joseph wants to detain him. Out of Judah 
 is one of the messengers, Caleb, the son of Jephuneh, who is 
 also full of enthusiasm for the conquest of Canaan, and 
 rejects the hesitancy of the other tribes as unworthy. Judah 
 preserves his tribal independence and, for a short time, 
 attains dominion over all Israel. That dominion was cer- 
 tainly not an absolute one, the independence of the tribes 
 was surely distinct enough, so that also David's and Solomon's 
 time does not show a really consolidated monarchy, although 
 Judah's hegemony was fully, even if unwillingly, acknowl- 
 edged. A story which is really more of a parable, signifi- 
 cantly discloses the very ideal of the popular movement: 
 
Sacrificial Service and Priesthood 75 
 
 David was dead, and Solomon succeeded him; he was a wise 
 king, and of his wisdom one instance is related, which at the 
 same time reveals the principal issue of that time. Two 
 women appeared before him, one with a living child, the other 
 with a dead one, but each one asserted that the living child 
 belonged to her and must be adjudged to her. Then Solomon 
 said: "Bring me a sword and divide the living child in two, 
 and give half of the child to each." One of the women was 
 satisfied with the division, but the other exclaimed: "Let 
 the child live, give her the living child, and in no wise slay 
 it." Then Solomon decided : "She is the true mother of the 
 child" — she would rather give him up than see his life put in 
 jeopardy. A beautiful thought, of genuine sagacity. But it 
 is more than that, it is a complete designation of the tribal 
 condition at that time. Division of the realm was the issue, 
 and the animosity which one tribe nursed against the other 
 appeared when the strong arm of Solomon was palsied in 
 death. The kingdom was divided; the desire of each indi- 
 vidual tribe to assume the supremacy could no longer be 
 repressed. "Mine is the living child; mine is the whole 
 people!" was the cry of either tribe, and division followed. 
 The division surely displeased the true patriots, yet neither 
 one of the rivals could bring himself to the point of saying: 
 "Give him the whole kingdom, but do not divide it!" Solo- 
 mon's word may have flashed as an admonition, but it failed 
 to kindle in their hearts the proper enthusiasm; the division 
 of the kingdom was consummated, and mutual animosity 
 between Judah and Ephraim ensued; Ephraim was the Great 
 Power, Judah a small state of second or third rank. 
 
 Do you want to listen to a significant expression of that 
 condition? There was a king in Judah, Amaziah, a valiant, 
 gallant man, who had humbled and chastised many a neigh- 
 boring ruler. Encouraged by these victories, he sent word to 
 Jehoash, the king of Israel at that time, saying: "Come, 
 let us look one another in the face!" And Jehoash, the king 
 of Israel, sent to Amaziah, the king of Judah, saying: "The 
 thistle that was in Lebanon sent to the cedar that was in 
 Lebanon, saying, 'Give thy daughter to my son to wife,' and 
 
76 Judaism and Its History 
 
 there passed by a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and trod 
 down the thistle.** You can easily hear in that speech the 
 overbearing manner of a Great Power towards a smaller 
 state. Ephraim treated Judah as such, and it came so far 
 that Ephraim allied himself with foreign nations to humble 
 Judah." Pekah entered into an alliance with Syria against 
 Judah, and through such measures Ephraim, the kingdom of 
 Israel, sealed its own destruction; thinking it had grown 
 beyond the Israelite Idea, it aspired to be an Asiatic Great 
 Power, and to achieve that project, it believed itself at 
 liberty to betray the true interests of Israel, its spiritual life 
 and ideal, under the pretense of serving larger and more 
 general interests. But a greater power, Assyria, came in and 
 crushed Israel. Judah maintained its ground on the battle- 
 field, the Assyrian Power was compelled to retreat, preserved 
 its political existence for some time thereafter, and during the 
 short time allotted to it, the great men arose who gave vigor 
 to the ideal of the people. Judah knew how to preserve its 
 more austere unity within, and that manifested itself in the 
 unity of divine service at Jerusalem as well as in all its relig- 
 ious institutions. Judah developed that spirit to an imperish- 
 able, intrinsic strength. It had also to submit to the force of 
 arms and was swallowed by the Babylonian Empire, but not 
 consumed. Its political existence perished, but the mental 
 and spiritual life was preserved, despite the exile; Judah was 
 compelled to emigrate, but it was only an emigration of 
 citizens, the fellow-members of the faith continued their 
 connection and union. The ten tribes had disappeared; a 
 part of them mingled and blended with the population of 
 other nations, the other part went over and joined the people 
 of the Kingdom of Judah which continued longer and remained 
 the standard-bearer of the spiritual life, and from that is 
 derived the name that is now borne by the religion that for 
 thousands of years has victoriously maintained itself in the 
 world's arena. 
 
VI. 
 
 Exile and Return, Tradition. 
 
 Let us for a few moments more dwell upon the considera- 
 tion of the various political groups which in their time cor- 
 responded to the religious tendencies in the process of develop- 
 ment in Israel. We observed that the tribe of Reuben was 
 the first that changed its nomadic life into a permanent 
 settlement. It was the first that had become the element in 
 Israel which led to the organization of a state, to the estab- 
 lishment of a nation, but in later times it was pushed to the 
 rear and did not receive the consideration which its pioneer 
 establishment of nationality perhaps deserved. Nor is there 
 any doubt as to its having been laggard in religious develop- 
 ment. It is true that the foundation of the doctrine of 
 revelation was laid on the other side of the Jordan in the 
 territory which belonged to the tribe of Reuben and those 
 that were allied with it. Moses never passed beyond that 
 territory, he remained within it and he died there; there 
 revelation had its first habitation and was first entrenched 
 and elaborated according to the varying conditions of life but 
 yet it evidently remained in a stage of arrested development, 
 immature, and passed by higher evolution, it finally sank into 
 oblivion. At a very early date, we learn that Reuben and 
 those tribes that followed its leadership built an altar unto 
 the One Living God, and that such proceedings had excited 
 suspicion, as they had manifested idolatrous intentions, so 
 that the other tribes came near making war upon them. 
 Reuben went down, unsung and unremembered, and its land 
 came into possession of Ammon, Moab, and Edom, nations 
 which are described as especially hostile to Judaism. There 
 is no trace of a continued existence within that territory of a 
 spiritual life such as had come down through the remaining 
 tribes. At a very late period, the land was again annexed by 
 
78 Judaism and Its History 
 
 conquest as belonging geographically to Judea, and then no 
 difference appeared, because Judaism, spreading far and wide, 
 penetrated there, too. The ancient religious condition of the 
 territory had completely passed out of existence. 
 
 Next, it was the tribe of Ephraim that came to the front, 
 both by political power and by spiritual eminence and ennoble- 
 ment. In Ephraim, distinguished alike by intellectual 
 qualities and noble, refined manners, the prophets arose, the 
 men who bore within themselves the full, pure knowledge of 
 God, who proclaimed the Doctrine according to its profound 
 conception and full development. *Tis true, it did not grow 
 within the entire people to its full, vigorous vitality, and 
 Ephraim is also laid low; its political life, and with that, the 
 soil for further religious development disappears, but yet it 
 does not waste away altogether. The kingdom of Israel 
 was destroyed by Assyria, and its inhabitants were car- 
 ried into captivity; however — as in Antiquity generally, 
 only partial expatriation but not total extermination of 
 nations took place — a portion of its people remained in their 
 native country. That part was increased by settlers sent into 
 the country by the conqueror, with the view of saving the 
 territory from desolation. And here the power of intellectual 
 culture proved its superiority; the conquerors had to yield 
 spiritually to the conquered. As in later times, savage hordes 
 destroyed the Roman Empire and, as victors, crushed the 
 ancient nationality, but had to yield to its higher culture, 
 were civilized by it and thus transformed into a humanizing 
 element of the world, so it happened also in the conquered 
 land of the ancient Kingdom of Israel. The settlers who 
 were sent to share the land with the remainder of its native 
 inhabitants, themselves gradually changed into Israelites, or 
 rather, Ephraimites. They called themselves Shomronim, 
 Samaritans, after the ancient capital of the Kingdom of 
 Israel, Shomron (Samaria). They were people who accepted 
 Israelite belief at first with an admixture of their own Assyrian 
 customs, and gradually grew more and more into the Eph- 
 raimite ideas, hence into the fundamental principles of 
 Judaism, taking hold of the pure idea of God and together 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 79 
 
 with it of the practices of life as they had come forth out of 
 that idea, both in moral action and in ceremonial form. 
 That is the origin of the Samaritans; and they occupied a 
 stage of development beyond which the Idea had then pro- 
 gressed. The Kingdom of Israel had lagged in the rear in 
 religious knowledge and although it possessed the foundation, 
 it had neglected the living spirit which ceaselessly continued 
 to work ahead and was cultivated in the Kingdom of Judah. 
 The Samaritans had only the law of Moses; but the great 
 prophets that had arisen in Judah, who regarded Jerusalem 
 as their center, who looked upon the house of David as the 
 representative of the political, social, and religious con- 
 viction of its people — those great prophets, they repudiated 
 from motives of jealousy. Thus they had the letter of the 
 law, but the full spirit w^as not alive in them to mature nobler 
 fruit, and therefore they clung with tenacity to their ancient 
 holy places. Shechem, which already in ancient times had 
 been a place for the cultivation of religious life, continued to 
 be their holy city; Mt. Garizim, at the foot of which Shechem 
 was situated, was venerated as the place of Revelation, and 
 both as localities of peculiar sanctifying influence; to offer their 
 sacrifices there was considered an act of loftiest piety. The 
 Samaritans of later times adopted much of Jewish doctrine; 
 poor in knowledge, living only on isolated ancient recollections 
 and traditions, they had to draw out of the living, spiritual 
 stream running through Judaism; they adopted from Judaism 
 parts only, and only such parts and only so much of those as 
 did not endanger their own separate existence. Thus they ^ 
 remained a sickly religious community, and yet maintained - 
 themselves a long time. Such is the power of even a crippled 
 idea, that, after all, it proves to be a life-imparting agency. . 
 They maintained themselves a long time; they exist even to 
 this day, but their existence was a sickly one, their religious 
 life morbid. Their spiritual development could not rise 
 farther, because they clung to weather-beaten ruins on which 
 moss may start, but no healthy, vigorous plant can grow 
 and develop there. Even at those times when fresh starts 
 were made in the march of events and they touched also those 
 
80 Judaism and Its History 
 
 regions, some slight quiverings became perceptible in those 
 benumbed members and a few individuals gave signs of 
 awakening, but they did not get fully out of their sleep, and 
 their community sank deeper and deeper into spiritual 
 atrophy and political decay. Their members diminished 
 more and more; they could not tear themselves away from 
 the little spot which alone continued to afford them new 
 nourishment. The idea within them was not an idea com- 
 prising all mankind, one that might be carried unto all the 
 world; they must cling to their home city. There they 
 would live, there they live even unto this day, dwindled down 
 to about a hundred families; and there they are waiting for 
 extinction, living on the memory of a great time of youth 
 which, because it was not able to rise into vigorous manhood, 
 was arrested while in the midst of its course. 
 
 It was the tribe of Judah that took upon itself and com- 
 pletely carried out the development of the Divine Idea. In 
 Judah, in its austere union, permeated by the belief in the 
 One in Unity who as the Pure and Incorporeal One was rep- 
 resented as "He is," that belief had fully taken hold of the 
 people. And as the belief bears unity within itself, it pro- 
 duces also unity in all the institutions of the tribe, in the 
 uninterrupted succession within the same royal family, in its 
 Temple and all the institutions connected therewith, and in 
 the harmony of a living, civilizing spirit in all the forms and 
 expressions resulting from that belief: it was Judah that 
 ripened into true manhood and developed the Revealed 
 Doctrine into a full life-power. There those great men arose 
 whose comprehensive works — but why call them works? — 
 whose comprehensive words of life and deeds of life have been 
 handed down even to this day as a life-giving fountain. In 
 Judea, the Idea had been developed to such power that it 
 had no further need for being confined within a certain 
 country. The establishment of a nationality was not Israel's 
 mission; Israel's mission was not accomplished by the estab- 
 lishment of its nationality. 
 
 Nations which the World's History commissions only to 
 establish and preserve commonwealths for a time, in order 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 81 
 
 that they may do their allotted share in the world's work, are 
 cut asunder, their lives and works cease, they move toward 
 their destruction, as soon as they are disengaged from their 
 commonwealth. But a nationality which is only a means for 
 a higher object, an external form for a great Idea intended to 
 comprise all mankind must, for a time, gather its forces, 
 until a serried host is prepared, among whom the Idea may 
 obtain its full manifestation, so that it may, fully strengthened, 
 spread all over the world. Such a nationality may cease as 
 a commonwealth, and yet is not broken up as far as its essence 
 is concerned. The Kingdom of Judah fell, but Judaism did 
 not fall with it. Judaism is the name which thenceforward 
 the Revealed Doctrine bore and still does bear; Judaism alone 
 is the full and mature expression of it. Let us bear and keep 
 that name as a name of honor. Much ignominy has been 
 heaped upon that name and the name of those that hold that 
 faith ; ignominy has settled upon it, and therefore it has often 
 been regarded by those that bear it, with a certain nervous- 
 ness; they would willingly exchange it for another: Israelites, 
 Professors of the Mosaic religion, etc. But taking the term 
 in its more limited sense, we are by no means Israelites. We 
 are Israelites as descendants from Jacob- Israel, but not 
 Israelites as citizens of the Kingdom of Israel. We are not 
 professors of the Mosaic religion exclusively, because we do 
 not cling to the letter of the law only, even if it is our symbol, 
 that comprehensive book which contains from its beginning 
 to its end the Doctrine of God. Let us not repudiate the 
 great men who appeared in Judah, the Isaiahs and Jeremiahs, 
 the poets of the Psalms and Job ; they are part of the quicken- 
 ing spirit, part of the spiritual stream that flows through the 
 whole; and if we, as the Ephraimites did, would hold only to 
 the dead letter of the law without accepting the spiritual 
 stream, then indeed, we are no Jews, nor do we deserve to 
 bear the name. 
 
 Judah fell, but Judaism continued to exist even after 
 Judah had been carried into captivity. For Judah was not 
 spared that fate either, it succumbed to the power of Babylon. 
 But it had become firmly established in mind and it now 
 
82 Judaism and Its History 
 
 proved to be permeated by a higher spiritual energy. True, 
 in their exile, the Judeans hanged their harps upon the 
 willows, they would not sing the songs of Zion, lamentations 
 flowed from their hearts, yet together with those, there also 
 arose the conviction that their greatest possession had come 
 along with them and had not been left behind to decay. 
 They had gone to Babylon, and as everything in the history 
 of that people is providential, as everywhere the direction of 
 a higher power is manifested, so it appears also in the destiny 
 that awaited them there. They did not remain long under 
 Babylonian rule; Babylon was forced to surrender to another 
 empire; the recollections of Babylon are buried; another 
 nation took her place — Persia — ^which was animated by milder 
 manners and higher knowledge. It was also an Asiatic nation, 
 moved in the mental environment of that time, and yet had 
 a peculiar higher culture of its own. Judah, or rather the 
 believers in Judaism living in Persia, had to adopt nothing of 
 Persian teachings, they carried their specialty within them- 
 selves and developed it independently ; but the fact that they 
 had no longer to contend against crude idolatry, was of 
 powerful effect upon them. Life in Persia was of a purer 
 kind; the Religion of Light, the worship of Light (Fire) as 
 the purest emanation of the Deity, afforded peculiar religious 
 satisfaction to the Persians. The Jews adopted nothing of 
 the Persian views, at all events, nothing important. The 
 assumption that a transformation was effected by the influence 
 of the Parsees, is not justified by any facts, nor is there any- 
 thing in sight that would show a need or cause for such action; 
 isolated, subordinate conceptions may, as even our ancient 
 teachers tell us, have crept into Judaism, but they remained 
 secondary. Our ancient teachers report: "The names of 
 the angels migrated with the Jews at their return into their 
 home country," and that means nothing else than that the 
 whole belief in angels had crept into Judaism from Babylon, 
 from Persia. That belief in angels, that grand court, or state 
 council gathered around God, as the rulers of Persia had it 
 around them, the assumption of seven Archangels who, as the 
 highest princes near the king, are assembled around Ormuzd 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 83 
 
 as his most immediate serving ministers, may have passed 
 into Judaism. Judaism also had adopted in many places the 
 theory of angels and their ministrations ; but that conception 
 never rose to the dignity of an influential belief, to a dogma, 
 that would have had any decisive effect upon the develop- 
 ment of Judaism. On the contrary, we find a determined 
 struggle against Parseeism, insofar as it was antagonistic to 
 the fundamental principles of Judaism. 
 
 Parseeism recognized a Dualism: Ormuzd as the creator 
 and god of light and every good thing, Ahriman as the creator 
 of darkness and every evil. Now, the prophet writing from 
 the standpoint of that time, especially that great seer who by 
 no means shows hatred of Parseeism nor raises his voice against 
 its rule; who, on the contrary, glorifies Cyrus and his deeds 
 in exulting strains, that same prophet proclaims: "I am the 
 Lord, and there is none else, there is no God besides me; I 
 girded thee (Cyrus) though thou hast not known me ; that 
 they may know from the rising of the sun and from the west, 
 that there is none besides me: I am the Lord, and there is 
 none else. I form the light and create darkness; I make peace 
 and create evil. I the Lord do all these things." There are 
 not, as the Persians assume, two creating spirits; no, the same 
 God is the creator of dark and evil. The assertion that God 
 is the very creator of evil, is here announced with such 
 trenchant directness as we do not find it elsewhere, and it 
 does not even correspond fully to the spirit of Judaism, but 
 the antagonism had then to be emphasized with all directness. 
 In the course of time, when the influence of Parseeism offered 
 no longer any danger, and when the authorities introduced 
 that verse into the prayer-book, they changed it into: "who 
 formeth and createth darkness, who maketh peace and safety 
 and createth the whole'' — not, "the evil." 
 
 Thus the Jews lived under Persian sovereignty in general 
 without oppression, as it seems, zealously attending to their 
 own peculiar spiritual life. Then there appeared in that 
 nation a man entrusted with a civilizing mission, with a 
 grand, world-historic task. Every hero, every great con- 
 queror is an instrument in the hand of Providence, and what- 
 
84 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ever his ambition undertakes, becomes a seed of blessing for 
 many centuries. Cyrus undertook to destroy many kingdoms 
 and to make great conquests, and he succeeded in founding a 
 great Persian empire. He certainly also was a noble man, 
 permeated by a lofty spirit. Everything which ancient his- 
 torians report of him, bears the character, not of a cruel con- 
 queror, but of a noble, high-minded man, and as such he 
 showed himself also to the Jews who lived in his domains. 
 He seems to have understood the character of that closely 
 connected band, the Jews, who preserved their union even in 
 a strange land, and he proclaimed to them: *'Who is there 
 among you of all his people, whom God urges to go up again 
 to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and build the house of the 
 Lord God of Israel? And whosoever remaineth in any place 
 where he sojourneth, let the men of his place help him with 
 money and with goods and with beasts." And many went 
 thither, not all — a great part of the Jewish population re- 
 mained in Persia ; nor were those that remained the worst of 
 them. Even then, fervent attachment to their faith was 
 united with love for their new home, although but a short 
 time, hardly two generations, had elapsed since they had 
 settled in their new country. Many remained, a considerable 
 number returned to Palestine, and they were followed by 
 several separate emigrations, and thus they established, for 
 the second time, their national existence, the Jewish common- 
 wealth. Another phenomenon is thus presented, the like of 
 which is hardly found in history. Whenever a people has 
 left its country, when its commonwealth is destroyed, its 
 citizens are dispersed, State and Nation can not be restored; 
 when the nerves of a nation are severed, its bond of union 
 rent asunder, its inner life deadened, it is a difficult task to 
 breathe new life into the same material. To the attempt of 
 renewing the circulation in the dead members, hardly any 
 people has shown itself equal; the example of the Jews is 
 almost the only one in the world's history. 
 
 The Jews returned and established a nationality a second 
 time, and how could they succeed in that? Because they were 
 more than a nation, they were a Community united by the 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 85 
 
 bond of an idea. Greek mythology relates of the giant 
 Antaeus, that he had been invincible as long as he stood upon 
 the ground, but that it was an easy task to conquer him when 
 he was raised up from it; and when Hercules was set to kill 
 him, he was unable to overcome him while on the ground, but 
 as soon as he had lifted him up, it was an easy matter. The 
 same is the case with almost every nation. Upon its parent 
 soil, it continually receives fresh energy; as long as it abides 
 there without interruption, its life is assured for a long time, 
 but when it is removed from that soil, its vigor has vanished. 
 But Judah was not merely a people, it was the depositary of 
 an Idea, permeated by a living thought of which its nationality 
 was one mode of expression only, and which could therefore 
 be repeated a second time. 
 
 True, the real, direct, creative agency of revelation was at 
 an end. Nevertheless, at that restoration, men arose in Judea 
 who, in a measure, are the seal or the conclusion of prophecy: 
 above all, that seer who with exulting strain greets the 
 beautiful time of restoration and rejuvenation, that great seer 
 who, as one of the noblest and far-seeing, penetrates all 
 conditions with comprehensive glance and loftiest view, and 
 forcibly describes the mission of Judah to all mankind. He 
 hails that time, and Cyrus, the hero of that time, with enthu- 
 siastic word, saying: ". . . That saith to Cyrus, my 
 Shepherd! Let him perform all my pleasure, that he may 
 proclaim. Let Jerusalem be built; let the foundations of the 
 Temple be laid. Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to 
 Cyrus, I have seized his right hand, to subdue nations before 
 him, I will go up before thee, and make the crooked places 
 straight, break the gates of brass, give thee the treasures of 
 darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that thou mayest 
 know that I am the Lord who call thee, the God of Israel." 
 And then the prophet continues: "That they may know 
 from the rising of the sun and from the west ... I form 
 the light and create darkness," etc. (as quoted above). In 
 those words we hear the enthusiasm of a richly endowed bard 
 who, permeated by the living idea of Judaism, greets with 
 fervor and highest delight the time in which it could again 
 
86 Judaism and Its History 
 
 display a living activity through a living nation. Several 
 other prophets, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, appeared at the 
 beginning of the enterprise and greeted the time in the spirit 
 of revelation. But yet the time was to arrive when the 
 stream of Divine Revelation was to cease running, the 
 Revealed Doctrine was finished, Israel and Judah had become 
 thoroughly imbued with it. 
 
 Revelation was at an end, but as a sequence, a living spirit 
 was yet to continue and animate the whole if it was not to 
 become stagnant; the spirit that formerly prepared men by 
 direct effect and created the Doctrine must needs continue 
 its work in order to preserve and quicken it. As in nature, 
 the creative energy called forth the entire existence in a 
 marvelous manner and then, when things settled down, rested 
 in a certain measure, ceased to produce new formations, but 
 still manifests itself as a force of preservation and advance- 
 ment; as the same force that created, still lives in the laws 
 which regulate nature in her freshness and continuance, 
 forming a living stream that ever fertilizes her anew — so it 
 is also in the spiritual life which was created by Revelation, 
 and was to be preserved and quickened by Tradition. The 
 creative spirit had not altogether vanished from Judaism, 
 there was no complete conclusion, so that nothing could be 
 renewed, nothing improved — the living spirit continued to 
 flow through the times. Though the complaint is heard, 
 "There is no more prophet among us" — yet the same holy, 
 ennobling spirit continued to work. Tradition is the develop- 
 ing power which continues in Judaism as an invisible, creative 
 agent, as a certain ennobling something that never obtains 
 its full expression but ever continues to work, transform, and 
 create. Tradition is the animating soul in Judaism, it is the 
 daughter of Revelation and of equal rank with her. Tradition 
 never did, and never will, vanish from Judaism; it is the 
 fountain that ever fertilizes the times and must make trans- 
 formations according to the changing wants and necessities 
 of life arising from the contact with the outside world. It 
 was the spirit that laid the foundation of the renewed national 
 existence, the new religious life. If ever a time should come 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 87 
 
 — but it will never come — when the stream of Tradition will 
 be dried up, when Judaism may be regarded as something 
 completely finished and closed, when men turned backwards, 
 look at the creations of former times and, without inquiry, 
 want to preserve them, while others will not readily conform 
 with the past and yet look with romantic reverence, with a 
 sort of antiquarian affection upon Judaism as upon ruins 
 which must be preserved in their fragmentary shape, or 
 when others pass by those ruins with aristocratic indifference, 
 when no living energy, no transforming force, shows its 
 appearance anywhere — ^whenever such a time should come, 
 then indeed, you may prepare a grave for Judaism, then it 
 will be dead, then its spirit will have vanished altogether, it 
 has then become a walking skeleton that may continue a little 
 while but must surely move towards dissolution. But 
 Judaism is not constituted that way; Judaism has a con- 
 tinuously advancing Tradition. Let us give due honor to 
 that word! Tradition is, like Revelation, a spiritual energy 
 that ever continues to work, a higher power that does not 
 proceed from man, but is an emanation from the Divine Spirit, 
 a power that works in the community, chooses its own 
 ministers, manifests itself by its ever purer and riper fruits, 
 and thus preserves vitality and existence itself. 
 
 With Tradition, the second popular and political life, 
 the second epoch of the existence of Judah was developed. 
 But that political life had to be established by a hard struggle, 
 and notwithstanding the intense delight felt at first by all, 
 sadness soon crept into their hearts on account of the scanty 
 means at their command and the small results gained. For 
 it was a second birth that had to be effected, and it soon 
 became evident that the work went on with a certain nervous- 
 ness, that it was not guided by the living, creative spirit, but 
 that with painful consideration, ancient custom was preferred, 
 though it no longer auited the time. Again, priesthood and 
 sacrifice appeared in the foreground ; the more so because in 
 Judah the Davidian dynasty and the priests who had remained 
 faithful, the sons of Zadok, had attained to high authority 
 and were regarded as the natural leaders around whom all 
 
88 Judaism and Its History 
 
 gathered, and in fact, the first leaders of the returned pilgrims 
 were descendants of those two families; one a descendant of 
 the House of David, and the other, one of the sons of Zadok. 
 Now, as the new state was merely a province under the 
 sovereignty of Persia, it was but natural that the reigning 
 descendant of David was of less importance and that the 
 High Priest obtained a greater honor and thus formed around 
 himself a priest-court, a nobility, which soon boasted of their 
 sanctity, a family which identified their personal claims with 
 those of the sanctuary and clothed their human passions with 
 the garb of holiness. The same great seer, therefore, uttered 
 his severe strictures against those who boasted of their 
 inherited holiness, who prided themselves of their aristo- 
 cratic descent, and who derided the servant of God, although 
 he was the only faithful one, the man of the middle class who 
 clung to what he had inherited as sacred but who did not 
 belong to the set in authority, yet constituted the core 
 and body of the political and religious life in Judah. We hear 
 complaints about oppression, about internal decadence; and 
 another circumstance added its burden; namely, that the 
 political life could not gain vigor; it had not been produced 
 by growth, it was a gift by the grace of the king of Persia. A 
 given liberty is a broken reed which is not in connection with 
 the soil, and withers and dies. Thus, sadness had seized upon 
 the people, it was a kind of despair of themselves. Many 
 gloomy, despair-breathing words uttered by the Preacher- 
 Prophet are the production of that very time. They are 
 expressive of the sense of insecurity which takes hold of the 
 popular mind when its inner and outer life is attacked, when 
 culture has reached an advanced stage and yet can not 
 proceed to its full development. It was a state of things 
 which the prophet expresses thus: "Children have come to 
 birth, but there is no strength to bring forth." There is no 
 advance or development, nothing but dissension and dis- 
 ruption, the feeling of impotence gnaws upon all. That is 
 the worst disease of a people, its heart breaks thereby and its 
 spiritual power dies of it. And yet, that was not to happen 
 in Judah; even if heavy burdens settled upon it, it was to be 
 
Exile and Return, Tradition 89 
 
 roused up and rise again. There is a point which no people 
 suffers to be injured, for which it struggles with all the energy 
 of its soul, for the defense of which it awakens all its powers 
 — that point is its vital center. Judah was assailed at its 
 vital center: it was its faith that was to be broken up by the 
 inroads of Hellenism. Then a struggle ensued for its very 
 life, and Judaism came out of it with new-born strength. 
 
VII. 
 
 Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees. 
 
 The history of the world lazily and quietly passed over 
 the new Jewish commonwealth and Society for several 
 centuries without recording any particular results. *' Shall a 
 country bring forth anew in one day, shall a nation be born 
 at once?'* Thus exclaims the great prophet of that time, and 
 we repeat his words. Many centuries pass away in history 
 with apparent stillness while yet, in the deepest parts of the 
 popular life, lasting work is accomplished to become manifest 
 in due time; even great mundane events pass by certain 
 sections quite unnoticeable, and it seems as if hardly any 
 traces had been left upon them, and yet impressions were 
 made, and they become visible through their fruits and results 
 as soon as air and light are favorable, as soon as impulses from 
 within are pressing forward. Alexander the Macedonian 
 established his vast empire in which portions of three con- 
 tinents were united. In consequence of that enterprise, 
 Hellenism was spread far and wide, seeds of the Grecian spirit 
 all over his great empire. It is true, Hellenism as it was 
 carried over the world by the armies of Alexander, was already 
 exhausted and faded ; Alexander himself, though a disciple of 
 Aristotle, was to a certain extent a wild graft upon the olive 
 tree of Hellenism; and whatever he intended to achieve by 
 the force of his arms, was undoubtedly less the dissemination 
 of the Grecian spirit than the subjection of nations under his 
 rule. At any rate, a Grecian culture went along with him, 
 which, even if approaching senility, was new to those countries. 
 His empire did not outlast his life; it broke to pieces after his 
 death, but Grecian states maintained their existence in those 
 regions of which Palestine formed a part. The visit of 
 Alexander among the Jewish people is pretty well wrapped in 
 legend. His presence shook the whole Orient; his name shone 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 91 
 
 everywhere and for a long time; nor did the Jews forget him. 
 They remembered him as a ruler who was not unfriendly to 
 them, who even met the reigning High Priest with humble 
 reverence. How much of truth there may be in all that, or 
 how much embellishing legend may have added to it, we are 
 now unable to determine clearly. This much is certain, that 
 Alexander's campaigns and his reign did not influence the 
 development of Judaism or the Jewish people, but the states 
 that were formed out of his great empire and were also founded 
 on Grecian culture, did exert their influence in various ways. 
 Whenever two spiritual powers meet, such as Hellenism 
 and Hebraism, Greek culture and Jewish religion, when two 
 such spiritual world-transforming powers come into contact 
 with each other, that contact must necessarily cause new 
 formations ; something new will grow out of it, be it the result 
 of antagonistic struggle or of their spiritual interpenetration. 
 New creations will be evolved, bearing either the character of 
 both, or pre-eminently that of one of them, yet in a certain 
 measure impregnated by that of the other. The clashing of 
 Hellenism and Judaism produced effects in two ways. In 
 Egypt, and especially in Alexandria, which had been founded 
 by Alexander as a city of refuge and which soon became a 
 free center of Grecian culture in Egypt, a country that 
 offered a field deeply furrowed by elements of culture, ancient 
 Grecian culture sprang forth, even if not in rejuvenated form, 
 as a kind of aftermath, and spread mainly among the higher 
 class, among those endowed with higher intellect. Grecian 
 culture became there a new element of life, yet without being 
 able to show creative effects or result in new, sound pro- 
 ductions. In that new Grecian home, dependence upon the 
 ancient mental achievements predominated, learned critical 
 research and investigation, an endeavor to adopt and repro- 
 duce the external form of ancient science and learning, a 
 pedantic, would-be scholasticism which was not impregnated 
 with inborn, scientific impulse. The remnants of the science 
 of that time which have been preserved, and whatever other 
 information on that subject is available to us elsewhere, 
 exhibit no fresh living spirit, but merely an endeavor to 
 
92 Judaism and Its History 
 
 punctiliously investigate the ancient literature, to squeeze its 
 letter and to gnaw at its bone. And yet, Alexandrianism 
 spread manifold culture. 
 
 Here again, we behold a remarkable trait in Judaism, 
 guaranteeing its importance. Wherever a new culture springs 
 up, where the mind develops itself untrammeled, where a fresh 
 nationality or a fresh spiritual development is manifested, 
 there Judaism quickly joins the movement and its professors 
 soon adopt the new culture, digest it, and regard the country 
 which offers them the highest boon of life, mental and spiritual 
 liberty, as their home. As a healthy plant longs for air and 
 light and winds, and climbs up to them through all kinds of 
 obstacles, so also does Judaism. It requires air and light, 
 and wherever those are granted to it, there is its home, there 
 it feels as in its own native land, as though it had been natural- 
 ized there for centuries past. Such is man's superiority over 
 the brute creation that he is not limited to certain spots of 
 the world for the selection of his abode, that he may establish 
 himself wherever life may be developed, wherever organic 
 beings may exist; he is the lord of the earth, unlike the brute 
 that is confined to a certain region. Judaism, in that respect, 
 shows its comprehensively human character ; it can acclimatize 
 itself everywhere, carry its seeds and participate in the 
 popular life everywhere, and especially where higher culture 
 can spiritually transform also the substratum. 
 
 In a word, the Jews had soon established a new home in 
 Egypt. Whether they emigrated thither with Alexander, or 
 whether some refugees had already gone there with Jeremiah 
 after the dissolution of the Jewish commonwealth and came 
 then more into prominence by reason of freer opportunity for 
 development, we will not investigate; they were there, fully 
 nationalized and naturalized. Soon the Grecian language 
 was their speech which they used, not only in their daily life, 
 but also the language of their religion, the Jewish religion. 
 They went so far that they erected at Leontopolis, a city in 
 the district of Heliopolis, a temple which was a copy of the 
 Temple at Jerusalem, not with the intention of seceding from 
 Jerusalem and breaking off connection with their mother 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 93 
 
 country, but moved by the full consciousness that they 
 belonged entirely to the country in which they lived and 
 desired to fully gratify their religious wants there. That 
 temple was called after its founder, the temple of Onias, and 
 it was considered perfectly proper, and even in Palestine it 
 was not pronounced idolatrous. The temple was the visible 
 housing, but far above that was the spirit, the doctrine ; and 
 that too must needs be made accessible to them in Hellenism, 
 in the Grecian language. That a translation of the bible and 
 the pentateuch was made for a Greco-Egyptian prince, one 
 of the Ptolemies, is but legendary glorification. The people 
 felt the urgent necessity of becoming fully possessed of the 
 bible, their written sanctuary, in the Grecian language. 
 Although they had not yet altogether been estranged from 
 the Hebrew, when the translation was made, they were no 
 longer so much at home and versed in it that they could have 
 readily read and understood the book which was to furnish 
 them the bread and water of life ; the Grecian language was to 
 bring it home to them. 
 
 We have here the first instance in history of the translation 
 of a book. The Hebrew bible was translated into the 
 Grecian language, and that translation is still extant under 
 the name of The Septuagint Version (70). Embellishing 
 legend tells us that seventy elders had translated the book, 
 each one of them separated from the others, yet all agreed 
 completely, and it was thereby shown that the translators 
 had worked under inspiration. In such manner, legend 
 glorified that version, not only among the Greco-Egyptians, 
 but the same story is given to us in the writings of Palestine 
 and in the Talmudic accounts; proof sufficient, to show what 
 authority and reverence that work enjoyed, even outside of 
 Egypt. Yet, that version could not escape the influence of 
 the local spirit; it clings closely to the letter of Holy Writ, 
 fully rendered its meaning as the translators understood it, 
 but it has also alterations such as were demanded by the 
 conditions of that country. Aside from such variations as 
 were due to local conditions, due consideration was given to 
 religious and philosophical views. In order to afford a glance 
 
94 Judaism and Its History 
 
 into the manner of variation of the first class — influence of the 
 local spirit — we may adduce as an example, how the trans- 
 lators took care not to give offence to the reigning dynasty 
 or to popular prejudice. Among the animals prohibited as 
 food, the hare is named. The Hebrew term would have 
 required the equivalent word lagos in the Grecian version; 
 but as the royal family was called "the Family of the Lagi," 
 the mention of that name as that of an unclean animal in the 
 law-book of the Jews would have given offence. They 
 changed it and used a word which signifies "hairy-footed" or 
 "thick-footed," a word which they coined to avoid giving 
 offence. Asses for riding were used by the lowest classes only ; 
 in the bible they are often mentioned as the customary riding 
 animal. The translators did not use the word, fearing to 
 excite scorn and derision. But also with regard to law and 
 religion, they carefully avoided all expressions that might 
 give offence to the critical mind of those Grecians, especially 
 all figurative expressions for God, which are permissible in 
 Holy Writ as innocent, poetical terms, but would have 
 appeared strange in the eyes of those sober-minded critics. 
 Such infiltration of Grecian language and culture pro- 
 ceeded more and more, without shaking the Jewish-religious 
 views of the community. Knowledge of the Hebrew language 
 gradually decreased ; that language which is the depository of 
 the Jewish religious conviction, which breathes forth the 
 religious idea in its freshness, was gradually neglected and 
 forgotten by the Greco-Egyptian Jews, so that even their 
 most distinguished scholars, such as Philo, had but a school- 
 boy knowledge of it. Even at a later time, during the second 
 and third centuries after the Christian era, when a large 
 portion of the Grecian Jews had changed into another religion, 
 while the faithful remnants of them more firmly embraced 
 the Hebrew, Palestinian Judaism, the want of a Grecian 
 version of the bible was felt. Then it was noticed that the 
 ancient version corresponded too little to the original text, 
 a more faithful, closer adherence to it was demanded — but 
 yet, a translation could not be dispensed with. Hence, new 
 Grecian versions had to be essayed, although the Hebrew was 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 95 
 
 then again more generally known among them. Such trans- 
 lations were not undertaken in ancient times with the view 
 to furnishing a work of art to be handed down to posterity, 
 but because the demand for them proceeded from the very 
 soul and heart of the time. Three bible translators of that 
 time are mentioned: Aquila, Theodotion, and Symmachus; 
 fragments of their versions are still extant. Even the teachers 
 of the Talmud praised them for their work, and the bible 
 verse, ^'God shall enlarge Japhet and he shall dwell in the 
 tents of Shem," was expounded according to the manner of 
 paraphrasing then usual, to mean, "The beauty of Japhet 
 shall dwell in the tents of Shem, the grace of Hellenism shall 
 acquire a home also in the tents of Semitism," a verse which 
 has been perverted and misused also by others in various 
 ways. For when Christianity became predominant at a later 
 day, the verse was interpreted to mean, "God shall enlarge 
 Japhet so that he shall dwell in the tents of Shem, Japhet is 
 the heir of Shem and will become the new Israel"; and in our 
 day it has been asserted with more checkered ornament than 
 plain truth that the ancient Shem must be polished by 
 the culture of the race of Japhet. But enough of that! 
 Grecian life and spirit entered deep into Jewry, and out of 
 later periods yet, it is reported that a teacher of the Talmud 
 heard congregations using the Grecian language when re- 
 citing the Shemang portion of the prayers [the confession 
 of the Divine Unity. Deut. vi, 4-9.] You perceive from such 
 examples of Antiquity that an enlightened nationality which 
 exerts its mighty influence upon the minds of men, leaves its 
 traces also upon the religious life of Judaism, and that the 
 professors of Judaism, though remaining faithfully attached 
 to their religion, nevertheless identified themselves with the 
 manners and the language of the country in which they lived. 
 While Alexandrianism, as a scholastic science of Antiquity, 
 exhibits neither freshness nor vigor, it is the more significant 
 that it acted within Judaism as a motive power, as a germ for 
 new creations. The desire arose to blend the Jewish inheri- 
 tance with the newly acquired knowledge to heighten the 
 truths of Judaism by the addition of Grecian culture, to 
 
96 Judaism and Its History 
 
 harmonize both possessions so that each should make the 
 lustre of the other shine the more clearly and brightly. The 
 most various literary productions were the result of that 
 desire, although there is not one of them of special value. 
 A fruit of an earnest, spiritual struggle, was the ^'Alexandrian 
 Jewish Philosophy.'* In the domain of philosophy, a severe 
 spiritual struggle and peculiar results were bound to be pro- 
 duced by the clashing of Judaism and Hellenism. Directly 
 antagonistic as they were to each other, a compromise must 
 needs be effected between them. Judaism starts with self- 
 evidence, with inward experience and living conviction for 
 which no proof is required, which can not be fully proven. 
 On the contrary, Hellenism starts with investigation, with 
 human research, rising from the physical to reach by analysis 
 and combination, the Higher Idea. Those are two different 
 processes diverging not only in their progress, but in their 
 whole conception ! And those two directly antagonistic views 
 clashed against each other. But there was also in Hellenism 
 a philosophical school which, though born of the Greek spirit, 
 nevertheless endeavored to apprehend by a certain prophetic- 
 poetic effort the Higher, thence to descend to the Lower, and 
 assumed that in similar manner, the former descended into 
 lower planes. It also attempts to directly conceive the 
 Divine, the Ideal, by intuition, by higher perception. By 
 such bold flight, Plato conceived the everlasting Good, the 
 everlasting Beautiful, whence individual ideals evolve them- 
 selves, which as archetypes — ^we are not told whether they 
 have an actual existence or must be regarded as mere pictures 
 of the spirit — are expressed in real objects, perfect in them- 
 selves, while the several visible objects represent them only 
 in their limitations. That was a system which especially 
 suited the philosophizing Jews. It afforded them a bridge 
 between the purely Spiritual and the physical objects. How 
 does the Highest Spirit, the eternally Perfect One, enter into 
 the finite world? He creates ideals from Hjmself, says Plato 
 — He introspects Himself, and thus Perfection is produced; 
 and that Perfection impresses itself in more subordinate 
 existences and thus it descends from intermediate causes to 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 97 
 
 intermediate causes, until the real objects spring into existence 
 and Creation becomes manifest to us. God, the Eternal 
 Existence, the eternally Perfect, is the highest cause ; but the 
 eternally Pure One does not immediately come into contact 
 with the impure — only by means of manifold emanations and 
 concatenations, the earthly grows into existence. 
 
 Such views were agreeable to the Grecian Jews who had 
 enjoyed a philosophic education. They afforded them a 
 happy means of preserving the incomprehensibility and 
 unrepresentability of God, and yet of accepting the different 
 figurative expressions concerning God in the bible, because 
 they could refer those to the subordinate existences. Hellen- 
 ism of that time, stiff and sober as it was, was unable to 
 descend into naive poetical imageries and to admit them as 
 poetical expression, without marring the sublimity of the 
 thought. The letter was tenaciously clung to, and whenever 
 it was too sensible and corporeal, it had to yield to forced 
 interpretation. And by such the narratives and commands 
 of the bible, too, were forced from their natural simplicity into 
 artificial philosophical propositions, in the belief that their 
 value would thus be enhanced ; the symbolic method of inter- 
 pretation is the product of the Jewish -Alexandrian spirit. The 
 figurative expressions and events in connection with God were 
 referred to such subordinate spirits as had evolved themselves 
 from God. In the writings of Philo, the most distinguished 
 philosopher of the Jewish -Alexandrian period, and perhaps 
 also in those of all earlier authors whose works have been lost, 
 that doctrine is comprised in the ''Logos.'" Philo is a believ- 
 ing, zealous Jew ; he is fully convinced of the truth of Judaism 
 which, for him, requires no proof; with the most intense love, 
 he devotes himself to an examination of the doctrines of 
 Judaism, he conceives its moral spirit in the noblest purity, 
 but he is just as completely possessed by symbolical interpre- 
 tation, and the fudamental character of the Jewish-Alexandrian 
 philosophy converges, in his system, in the "Logos." That 
 term means, in Greek, both ''thought'' — as Philo understands 
 it — and "wordy The Logos is the demiurgos, the creator of 
 the world; it was the first creation of God, emanating from 
 
98 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Him as thought, as a pure idea; as a force emanating from 
 God, it then produces the world and sustains it as animating 
 and transforming energy. Such was the compromise which 
 Judaism made with Hellenism. The Jewish-Alexandrian 
 philosophy is the mother of numerous systems of philosophy 
 that prevailed throughout the Middle Ages; it is one of the 
 factors in the creation of a new Religion, at the very beginning 
 of which it exerted a highly important influence upon its 
 formation, and surrounded it with a certain halo, illuminated 
 it with a certain mystic-philosophic lustre. 
 
 That was one way in which the contact of Judaism and 
 Hellenism produced new effects. 
 
 But in another country also, Hellenism clashed with 
 Judaism, and that was in Palestine itself. While the Egyptian 
 Commonwealth was filled with true civilization, the Syrio- 
 Grecian Commonwealth seems to have been at a much 
 lower stage of culture. Only a purely outward civilization 
 existed there, a mere varnish without affecting the inside; 
 not a trace remains to show that a* purely Grecian mode of 
 thinking, or any product thereof existed there. But the 
 more half-refinement, the more fanaticism, the less inner 
 worth there is, the more will outward forms be valued. 
 Whenever religion is not a true inward power, wherever na- 
 tional life is not actually borne by an idea, the people will be 
 seized with the zealous desire to establish an apparent outward 
 unity, and one of the ways to effect that is the attempt to 
 bring about apparent religious unity within the commonwealth. 
 As we find in later times, that desire expressed as endeavor 
 for a German-Christian State, so we meet in Asia with 
 the design to establish a Pagan-Hellenic Realm. Palestine 
 was under Syrian sovereignty, it should now become part 
 of that Pagan-Hellenic State. Judaism had thus far, in the 
 course of its second political existence, suffered many trials 
 and tribulations — it endured them quietly, now and then 
 with a shriek of complaint, yet there was never a forceful 
 popular endeavor to throw off the oppression. But now, its 
 very innermost heart had been touched, the time had arrived 
 that called for answer to the question: To be or not to be? 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 99 
 
 Not all showed a readiness to enter upon the contest. 
 Those who stood at the head of the people, the priests, the 
 Sons of Zadok, are said not to have been filled with glowing 
 zeal to undertake the contest ; they thought to be able to cast 
 a spell upon the approaching storm by subterfuges. The 
 statue of Jupiter should be placed in the Temple; it was put 
 up there. Contributions should be paid to the Temple of 
 Hercules; they were paid. Gymnasiums, that is to say, not 
 schools for instruction, but places for the peculiar Greek 
 athletic games, should be established in Judea in order to 
 introduce and exhibit Grecian manners and amusements; that 
 was done. In every way, obedience was yielded to the ruler, 
 perhaps to ward off the storm from cowardice and lack of 
 spirit, with the sole aim of self-preservation. But the heart 
 of the people could not endure it; and being deserted by its 
 leaders, it was compelled to undertake from its own ranks 
 its defense against foreign oppression which designed not only 
 to destroy its earthly home, but to rob it also of its spiritual 
 realm. A small band collected under the leadership of the 
 Hasmoneans, a high-minded, priestly family, made resistance, 
 found adherents; the enthusiasm spread, the oppressor had 
 to retreat, and in consequence of the insurrection, there arose 
 from the distracted little commonwealth a valorous, inde- 
 pendent State which lasted much longer than could have been 
 expected under the circumstances. Hellenism and Judaism 
 had measured their strength against each other — it is true, it 
 was faded and enervated Hellenism against Judaism not yet 
 grown to its full strength — and yet the latter gained the 
 victory and survived, whereas the Syrian Empire perished 
 after a short and morbid existence. 
 
 In such times, when the innermost parts of the popular 
 heart are stirred up, the popular energies also are roused from 
 their deepest hiding places, spiritual life is mightily and 
 speedily developed. Quiet reigned for centuries; all at once 
 a noisy bustle appears, the stirring motive power is perceived 
 producing new creations, or rather driving freshly invigorated 
 tendencies. Even at the establishment of the Second Com- 
 monwealth, various parties had sprung into existence. At 
 
100 Judaism and Its History 
 
 the head of the people, as leader of the first band of returning 
 emigrants from the captivity, there was a descendant of the 
 family of Zadok, a branch of the priestly race. The ancestor 
 of that family had enjoyed high honor as High Priest of the 
 Temple of Solomon; his descendants had uninterruptedly 
 exercised the priestly function in that Temple at Jerusalem. 
 By the side of that descendant of the family of Zadok, Joshua, 
 the son of Jozadok — there was also a descendant of the House 
 of David, Zerubbabel, the son of Shealtiel. These two 
 together were at the head of affairs, and they and their 
 immediate descendants remained at the head of the nation. 
 But the nation was neither then nor afterwards independent; 
 at first it was under the sovereignty of Persia, then of Egypt, 
 and later of Syria, till the contest began. By those sovereigns, 
 satraps were sent, and they were the actual rulers of the land. 
 A native king or prince directing the administration of the 
 civic and political affairs of the people, was scarcely tolerated, 
 and if tolerated at all, his power was so insignificant that his 
 authority soon vanished. It was otherwise with the High 
 Priest who represented their religious life ; his office being the 
 only homesprung one with the holiness of his functions super- 
 added, his authority increased more and more, and he soon 
 united with power, all that remained of native, secular 
 authority. That time was the only period in the history of 
 Judaism when, to a certain extent, there existed a hierarchy, 
 when a real priestly rule prevailed, and it proved itself pitiful 
 enough. The family of the priests was that of the Zadokites. 
 The people that had returned were full of enthusiasm to 
 restore their nationality, clung with all their might to those 
 whom they regarded as their chiefs, especially the religious 
 representatives of the nation: they reverently attached them- 
 selves to the priests. The determination to preserve their 
 ancient customs was uppermost in their minds at that time. 
 The Temple and Temple service, the priesthood connected 
 therewith, the contributions to the Temple and priests con- 
 stituted the center of their religious life and occupied the 
 mind of the zealous part of the people. But they found in 
 the territory of Palestine, various elements that had in the 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and PHARii?^^E^\ J ;> loi*- :!/ i\i 
 
 meantime settled there and who were either not at all in 
 sympathy with the Jewish faith, or were only lukewarm in 
 their support. The more zealous portion of those that had 
 returned and their adherents separated themselves from those 
 of mixed descent, and were on that account called "Separat- 
 ists," or "men separating from the nations of the country 
 and their uncleanness," and they stuck closely to their chiefs 
 and leaders. The other portion of the people were called 
 "the People of the Country"; they were the inhabitants who 
 had either not accepted the Jewish faith, or had only ancient, 
 dim recollections of it, or were converts, proselytes, strangers. 
 For such were readily accepted, even if they would not rigor- 
 ously adhere to all the precepts which the Separatists regarded 
 as binding upon themselves. 
 
 It is a current phrase that Judaism is opposed to prose- 
 lytism. That is partially true but only so far as the phrase 
 is understood in its true meaning. Every religion which is 
 convinced of its truth not only for a limited circle, but for all 
 mankind, must exert itself to spread over the whole human 
 race. If it would confine itself within the narrow limits of 
 the ground it occupies for the time being, address itself only 
 to those that are born to it, who belong to a certain country, 
 who have a distinct history of their own, then it ceases to bear 
 the characteristic attribute of true Religion; then it has 
 become a mere sect, it is no longer that breath of life, which, 
 intended for all men, should spread over all humanity. 
 Judaism, on the contrary, was the very first to speak of 
 proselytism; it was the first that recognized the strangers 
 that join themselves to the Lord and who were received into 
 all its rights and privileges, whereas Antiquity elsewhere 
 recognized only that citizen who was in the country and had 
 grown up on its soil. The stranger remained always a 
 stranger until perhaps he became identified with the nation in 
 succeeding generations or citizenship was especially con- 
 ferred upon him. Judaism broke down the barriers of narrow 
 nationality; it is not birth that makes the Jew, but conviction, 
 the profession of faith, and he also who is not born of Jewish 
 parents but accepts the true faith, becomes a Jew, fully 
 
i;0^ Judaism and Its History 
 
 entitled to all rights and privileges. Proselytism in the more 
 exalted meaning of the term, conveying the idea that the 
 conviction of those hitherto strangers is accepted, because 
 they have declared to be in agreement with the principles — 
 that kind of proselytism is an offspring of Judaism. Of course, 
 "making proselytes," mere change of form, use of violence to 
 force affectation of belief without conviction by means of the 
 innate power of truth — such a kind of proselytism is an 
 abomination in the sight of Judaism — it is opposed to it. 
 
 Accordingly, strangers or proselytes constituted a large 
 portion of the people at that period. 
 
 Even at the beginning, long before the outbreak of the 
 Syrian war, some disagreements arose between the several 
 portions of the people. The Zadokites, the princes, and 
 priests became — as it naturally is in the character of such 
 hereditary dignity and especially when joined with the attri- 
 bute of holiness — more and more narrow-minded, sought to 
 identify the whole range of religion with themselves, they 
 gradually ceased to be the ministers and servants of religion, 
 religion was to serve them. On the other hand, the Sepa- 
 ratists, the sound and vigorous body of the citizens, regarded 
 the priests and ruler their representatives only insofar as they 
 truly watched over their religious and political life; but as 
 soon as they made their own personal interests paramount to 
 the claims of Religion and the Commonwealth, the Sepa- 
 ratists, the best body of the citizens, were in opposition to the 
 Zadokites. Then, when the great struggle began, and the 
 reigning families showed themselves lukewarm, while the 
 middfe class resisted with all strength and enthusiasm, such 
 disagreements grouped the people in distinctly separate 
 parties. The Zadokites, the Sadducees^ the descendants of 
 the priest estate in connection with the families of rank, con- 
 stituted one party; the Separatists, the Pharisees ^ as they were 
 designated in the Aramaic vernacular, were the other party. 
 The Hasmonean or Maccabee family, supported by the citi- 
 zens, crowded the Zadokite dynasty from the throne and took 
 possession of both the throne and the altar. The Hasmonean 
 family attained to the office of princes and high priests, partly 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 103 
 
 through their own merits as leaders, but chiefly by their close 
 alliance and action with the solid mass of the middle class of 
 the people. But here too, we see a general historic phenom- 
 enon repeated. A new dynasty makes every effort to rally 
 the ancient nobility around it. The Sadducees were the old 
 nobility; the differences between the new kings and priests 
 and the descendants of those who had formerly held those 
 offices, were soon reconciled; the Sadducees became the 
 courtiers, the nobility of the new royal court, and that clung 
 to the noblemen as the party powerful through its hereditary 
 dignity. And that produced a still more serious struggle 
 between the Sadducees and the Pharisees ; the reigning dynasty 
 tried to please first one party and then the other, but on the 
 whole yielded to the designs of the nobility. 
 
 It was a religio-political fight that had started between the 
 Sadducees and the Pharisees, so that the chasm widened more 
 and more; a religio-political fight in which, so far as that period 
 is concerned, it is hard to discern which element predominated, 
 the political or the religious. On the religious side, the chief 
 point of difference of the Pharisees is this, that they objected 
 to having the sanctity of the priesthood placed so much in 
 the foreground. A sentence in the Second Book of the Macca- 
 bees, which belongs to that period, most distinctly expresses 
 that sentiment, saying: " Unto all are given the heritage, the 
 kingdom, the priesthood, and the sanctuary." All the people 
 should be regarded as priestly and holy, was the contention of 
 the Pharisees; of course, there were especial priestly func- 
 tions and rules that could not be disputed, but the whole 
 people was to be raised to sanctification, should be formed into 
 a holy, priestly establishment. In that way, burdens were 
 made for the whole people, ordinances which were to make 
 them priests as much as it could be done. If certain precepts 
 concerning cleanness and uncleanness were observed by the 
 priests, all the people should observe them with equal care; 
 if certain ablutions at the holy sacrificial ministrations were 
 prescribed for the priests, all the people were to eat their 
 ordinary meals after the same preparation: "every-day fruit 
 with the holiness of the sanctuary." If the Temple was the 
 
104 Judaism and Its History 
 
 place for the priests where they performed the sacrificial 
 service and if the sacrificial repasts constituted a religious act 
 aff"ording to the body of the priests an opportunity of assem- 
 bling together, in like manner the people got their side- 
 temples, their synagogues, which, though not intended to 
 supplant the Temple, should serve as people's temples at 
 which they also had their communion repasts that were to be 
 considered a sacred function. The repast was prepared for 
 by ablution which consecrated the meat, wine was a substitute 
 for the drink offering, and frankincense was not wanting, 
 either. The holiness of those repasts was yet heightened by 
 prayers, and thus every man became a priest to a certain 
 extent. Thus the design of the Pharisees to acquire the 
 character of priests called the great institution of Houses of 
 God into existence. The institution of Prayer is a fruit of 
 that design which now and then was rather one-sided and 
 unbalanced, but yet contained many sound and vigorous 
 creations. But there were also many arrangements fixed that 
 were burdensome, and of which some are still observed and 
 others are flitting about as the shadows of the past. For 
 instance, the ceremony of bidding farewell to the departing 
 Sabbath with wine and spices, is a survival out of that period 
 of popular desire to observe priestly practices. 
 
 In all matters where religious or secular matters called for 
 a decision, the Sadducees and the Pharisees came into col- 
 lision. The Pharisees succeeded in getting into their hands 
 the management of all the institutions that were of great 
 importance in the popular life. The arrangement of the 
 calendar and the judiciary were taken out of the hands of the 
 priests, and the People, the Learned, attended to all that. 
 The "People," the "Learned," we say; for the names "Phari- 
 sees" and "Sadducees" were used more by the respective 
 opponents than by the parties themselves. The Sadducees 
 called themselves "the Sons of the Noble Families," or "the 
 Sons of the Priests," while their opponents called them 
 "Zadokites," "Sadducees," which conveys no idea of con- 
 tempt, but was intended to designate them by a mere family 
 name as denial of any special nobility. In like manner, the 
 
Hellenism, Sadducees and Pharisees 105 
 
 Separatists called themselves "the Learned" or "the Fellows 
 of the Society," who advocated self-sanctification ; their 
 opponents called them by their ancient name "Pharisees," 
 which was no disgracing expression, but simply ignored their 
 claims to especial learning and holiness. Only later times 
 sought to asperse ignominy upon that appellation. 
 
 Thus a great division had arisen within Judah; and that 
 division increased and produced mighty internal transforma- 
 tions. 
 
VIII. 
 
 Sadducees and Pharisees, The World 
 to Come, Hillel. 
 
 The difficulty of presenting and looking at a past age 
 according to its inner motives and impulses is great enough 
 in itself, but it is very much increased when we are without 
 contemporary records which might by their mere existence 
 reveal to us what the people of that time thought and what 
 they strove for, and how certain events came to happen. 
 Even the most faithful accounts given by a later time view 
 the conditions and events from their own standpoint, involun- 
 tarily or intentionally color them with their partisanship, or 
 misrepresent things from want of a true conception of the 
 past. If unimportant periods of time are hidden behind a 
 misty veil, we might pass by them with indifference and leave 
 them to the industry of the antiquarian curiosity seeker or to 
 bold, combinative criticism. But just such periods are 
 sometimes the very ones that have shaped a long line of 
 succeeding centuries. Although we may know little of them, 
 they have left deep traces behind ; their creations and events 
 have exerted an influence lasting for all times; and if we wish 
 to gain a clear understanding of ourselves, of what we are, 
 and how we became such, it can not be a matter of indifference 
 to us, thoroughly to understand the source from which we 
 have sprung, to know the very foundation whence the Present 
 has grown. The ideas entertained, the events that happened 
 in Judea two thousand years ago, the conflict of the Sadducees 
 and Pharisees, and the results produced by that conflict, 
 exerted their efl^ect upon later centuries, are of great 
 importance in the world's history, and exert their influence 
 unto this day. That very influence is it to which we some- 
 times yield, against which we struggle at other times, which 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 107 
 
 is now the foundation on which we stand, and then again is 
 the barrier the limit of which we feel and strive to break 
 down. 
 
 If we desire to gain a conclusive judgment concerning the 
 most important questions of the Past as well as of the Present, 
 we must cease to grope in uncertain darkness while explaining 
 the events within Judaism during the period of the Second 
 Temple. It is high time that all fable and fiction about 
 Sadducees and Pharisees should cease. On one hand the 
 Sadducees have been represented as Philhellenists who had 
 placed themselves beyond the pale of Judaism, who had 
 embraced new Grecian refinement and had thus become 
 entirely denationalized; they were made to appear as Epicu- 
 reans, Sensualists, Worldlings, who neglected all religious 
 interests. Others on the contrary, misled by the similarity of 
 the sound in the name, went so far astray as to take them for 
 Stoics. But for a time, they were the very representative 
 men of the Jewish national life, and their exertions likewise 
 were directed towards fathoming the foundation of Judaism; 
 they were the first priest-nobility vested with power, and 
 formed, at the time, the center around which the people 
 gathered, but which later degenerated and went down, as is 
 often the end of those who, elevated above the masses, strive 
 to rise still higher, make their own persons and personal 
 interests paramount to all others, and therefore, making but 
 very little effort to promote the advancement of the welfare 
 of the people, are at last pushed aside by the people. 
 
 The name of the Pharisees, too, has assumed a false 
 meaning in the memory of later generations. It was especially 
 by the influence of another religion that the Pharisees were 
 regarded as petty, narrowminded men, who strain at a gnat, 
 indulge in outward worship, without being animated by true 
 inward piety, as men devoid of more exalted religious ideas. 
 The Jews did not judge them thus severely, yet that worth 
 which was actually innate in them was not attributed to them. 
 For, in reality, they were the very core, the brain and the 
 brawn of the nation ; their exertions were directed toward the 
 establishment of equal rights for all — their fight was the fight 
 
108 Judaism and Its History 
 
 that was repeated in all times wheii great interests are at 
 stake, the fight against priestcraft and hierarchy, against 
 privilege of individual classes, the fight for the very truth that 
 not outward qualities alone, but inward religious conviction 
 and consequent moral conduct constitute the proper worth of 
 the man. The means which they were in many respects forced 
 to employ, seem at first sight not to bear out such a view, but 
 when examined more closely, they fully correspond to it. 
 To oppose the priests they were compelled to claim for every 
 man everything that distinguished the priesthood ; they would 
 not assign higher duties to others lest they were obliged to 
 yield them also special rights. We are — thus they said — ^just 
 as holy, and occupy the same exalted position as you. Let 
 us suppose a case, that some later period received the super- 
 ficial account, that once upon a time a dispute had arisen as 
 to whether it should be the duty of all classes of the people 
 to defend their country, and that even those who in former 
 times had been exempt from military service now were 
 foremost in their determination to leave that duty no longer 
 to the nobility, the knights, who alone had hitherto staked 
 their lives and fortunes for the security of their common 
 country; might not some persons think that those who were 
 so anxious to do the fighting were ruffians, dissatisfied because 
 others fought the fight to a finish? Would such an opinion 
 be just? Certainly not! The classes who enjoyed that 
 negative privilege, the privilege of having no share in the 
 activities of the country, now come forward with the claim: 
 "We are equally children of our country, we shall perform 
 the same duties and demand the same rights; you shall per- 
 form no higher duties, to claim in consequence superior 
 privileges and represent yourselves as the pillars of the 
 Commonwealth; we are equally ready to bring the same 
 sacrifices." The same sentiment brought forth the struggle 
 of the Pharisees against the Sadducees, and was the motive 
 of their readiness to submit to the same priestly burdens. 
 
 That serious, bitter fight was sometimes carried on with 
 insufficient means — a phenomenon which is often repeated in 
 history. The aspiring party bear within themselves the full 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 109 
 
 power of the idea but can not put it into practice. The 
 stubborn fact was that the Sadducees were the nobility; they 
 held all offices; they were either priests and therefore com- 
 manded respect, or noble families connected with the priests; 
 they basked in the favor of the Court, which occasionally, 
 when it could not help itself, grasped the hand of the Pharisees, 
 but felt comfortable only in the atmosphere of the Sadducees. 
 As it was, the Sadducees were in actual possession of the 
 administrative affairs and were sure to retain a part of them. 
 The Pharisees might be ever so determined in their fight 
 against the special privileges of the priestly families, as far 
 as they touched civil and political life and legal rights, yet 
 they could not abolish priesthood altogether because history 
 had established its right of existence, and as long as the 
 Temple with its sacrificial service remained, their ministers 
 could not be dispensed with. In such times when the result 
 of a struggle appears dubious and undetermined, when the 
 combatants struggle with full determination, behold their 
 victory close by and yet begin to despair of its results, men 
 will then turn their eyes to the future. 
 
 Healthful times, healthy nations are thoroughly conscious 
 of their spiritual power, they feel their infinity and eternity of 
 the spirit even in the present; vigorous spiritual energy is so 
 strong, superior as it is to all that is finite, it requires no 
 additional guaranty for itself. Healthful times, healthy 
 nations will never arrive at the conclusion that the spirit is 
 but a weak decoction, a mixture of changing matter, of nervous 
 fluid and blood-globules; they are conscious of their spiritual 
 independence, of the convincing power wherewith it is endowed - 
 — of the distinct and separate existence of the spirit. And 
 for that reason they do not continually think of the future,, 
 do not indulge in dreams as to what may be in times to come; 
 in the very present they bear within themselves the strength 
 of the spirit with its convincing power; to them every minute 
 is an infinity containing the germs of development for all later 
 times. Such times and such nations look upon the future as 
 upon the natural result of the present, well knowing that 
 whatever moves and animates it, will and must be realized at 
 
110 Judaism and Its History 
 
 some time to come, being to them as something already 
 present in the spirit. Morbid men, morbid times or religions, 
 incessantly think of the future, place it upon the foreground. 
 From the present, in which they lack the energy to effect their 
 ardent wishes, they take refuge into a future to which they are 
 unable to find a natural transition, and for which they long 
 the more fervently, and which they picture to themselves 
 with embellishments so much the more brilliant. "It will be 
 otherwise" is their continual consolation; the weaker their 
 present confidence, the bolder the poetic imageries of a 
 brilliant future. 
 
 Judaism knows no such weakness, it is deeply and fully 
 convinced of an independent spiritual life; it regards man's 
 likeness to God impressed upon him by Divinity Himself, as 
 none other than a spiritual attribute. The directness with 
 which it speaks of a spiritual power, both of the spiritually 
 living God and of man as living through the spirit, that pro- 
 found conviction permeating all its writings, is a guaranty for 
 the belief within Judaism, that the spirit is everlasting and 
 can never be cut off. But it does not place that belief in the 
 foreground, it has not designated this earth as a vale of tears, 
 nor pictured the reward to come beyond the grave in brilliant 
 colors; it has never commanded us to destroy this earth as 
 something vain and sinful; it has never demanded that joy in 
 life on earth should be crushed, because this life is but a time 
 of probation. Judaism does not know such morbid sen- 
 timentality. 
 
 That it contains the belief in the immortality of the soul 
 and further develops it is proved even by the subtle author of 
 Ecclesiastes ; he expresses his doubts about that subject the 
 same as with regard to other matters, but the very fact that 
 he utters such doubts, proves that the belief had been generally 
 adopted: "The spirit of man goeth upward." "The dust 
 returneth to the earth as it was; and the spirit returneth unto 
 God who gave it." In that manner, the belief affords strength, 
 elevation and inspiration without deadening and crushing the 
 present. But times had arrived when the present was very 
 gloomy, when men could not feel satisfied with what it 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 111 
 
 afforded. They beheld their own efforts and the contrast 
 exhibited in the actual conditions; they considered their means 
 to carry their endeavor into effect, and saw their insufficiency. 
 It is but natural in such times men will take comfort by 
 saying to themselves: "Nevermind! Whatever can not be 
 accomplished in the present, will assume form in a better 
 time. Another time is bound to come in this world, and then 
 conditions will be changed at once." In such mental con- 
 dition, the Pharisees said: "The priesthood will go down, a 
 descendant of the House of David will reign, the people will 
 be invigorated, the national life will mature the fruit which 
 we so much long for; another world will come, and we, too, 
 shall participate in it." They were not satisfied with the 
 hope that the future would develop what the hot air of the 
 present had germinated ; they themselves desired to participate 
 in the enjoyment of that future, because they had enjoyed 
 nothing in the present. That is the origin of a belief in a 
 future Resurrection of the body. That belief was part of 
 Parseeism, and the Jews may have become acquainted with 
 it during their sojourn in Persia. Traces of its existence 
 among them at an earlier period can not be discovered; the 
 book of Daniel is the first that makes mention of it, and that 
 book dates from that very time in which the internal severe 
 battle was raging. Granted even that such belief, prevailing 
 among the Parsees, affected the Jews there, Judaism would 
 never have adopted it if it had not been impelled thereto by 
 circumstances in its internal development. Just as the Phari- 
 sees, the men who struggled for a change of conditions and 
 could not bring that about, could not help creating for them- 
 selves a future as the realization of their present desires: so 
 the Sadducees who were satisfied with their power, who did 
 not wish for a change and even opposed it, for that very reason 
 repudiated the belief in the resurrection of the body. Whether 
 they can be condemned on that account as infidels, is a 
 question which I may confidently leave to your own decision 
 rather than to that of many another tribunal. 
 
 The fight between the Sadducees and the Pharisees grew 
 hotter and hotter, both in the domain of civil life and in that 
 
112 Judaism and Its History 
 
 of religious affairs, and dominated all thought and sentiment. 
 The more serious and gloomier the aspect of affairs became, 
 the more intense became the differences ; the threatening crisis 
 into which the nation was thrust, challenged all healthy 
 popular energy. Just as the people arose at the time of the 
 Maccabean War, when foreign oppression wanted to crush 
 them, so it also happened in the subsequent history of Judaism. 
 Conflicts of the most various kinds raged within, even in the 
 royal family; the several sons of a deceased king, the succes- 
 sion not being fully regulated, made rival claims to the throne 
 and contended against each other; foreign nations were 
 appealed to for their decision, for their assistance to one or 
 the other. That increased the discontent with the present 
 and its representatives. That, for all that, true religious 
 sentiment was not extinct in the heart of the noble-minded 
 during those strifes, may be shown by the following incident. 
 During the contest of two rival claimants, Hyrcanus and 
 Aristobulus, the adherents of one, and the officiating priests 
 with them, had fortified themselves in the Temple, and their 
 opponents laid siege to the building. Both crowds were full 
 of the most rabid party spirit. A man of great reputation, 
 Onias, known in the Talmud as Honi Ha-Meaggel, to whose 
 prayer especial efficacy was ascribed, was called for by the 
 besiegers and requested to pray for their victory and the defeat 
 of the besieged. But he made this prayer: "Lord of the 
 universe, our Father in Heaven ! within Thy Temple are Thy 
 priests, sons of Thy people ; out here are likewise sons of Thy 
 people; they are enraged against each other, do not hearken 
 unto the prayers of those against these, nor unto the impre- 
 cation of these against those." The crowd stoned him to 
 death. That man was the child of true Jewish spirit, who can 
 be numbered among the noblest martyrs. Inspired by true 
 love of man and country, he remains tfaithful even in the very 
 face of death. He would not desecrate his speech in spite of 
 the wrath and rage boiling around him. Whether that noble 
 martyr, when he breathed his last, did or did not utter the 
 prayer, ''Father, forgive them, they know not what they do," 
 legend does not inform us; for it is only legend that can tell 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 113 
 
 such things — the words of a dying man are heard by no one 
 — his sentiments are surely of that character. 
 
 But the fierceness of those conflicts was soon to mount 
 and be merged into a question of existence. A nation entered 
 upon the world's stage which soon gained the greatest power 
 and exerted the most decisive and authoritative influence 
 everywhere. Rome came in like a lion among the weaker 
 animals, and in cat-fashion, like the lion, it at first approached 
 cunningly and pleasantly, acted the part of a mediating ally, 
 then to pounce upon those friends, usurping supremacy over 
 them, and then reducing them into complete subjection. 
 When Rome began its cat-lion game with Judea, the people 
 felt that a mighty foe was approaching; alarming restlessness 
 seized upon their minds ; the party conflicts grew more violent 
 and more general. Herod was hated, feared as a foreigner 
 and a tyrant, yet his good qualities might, in the eyes of the 
 people, perhaps, have covered those two objections, and his 
 native energy might have acted as a bond of union. But 
 what constantly brought him to mind as a foreigner and put 
 fuel to the flame of hatred against him, was the fact that he 
 appeared as a satellite of Rome, that his face was incessantly 
 turned toward Rome and that he always earned favors from 
 Rome. 
 
 In times like those, men appear who reflect the very soul 
 of the nation and who mean to give it shape and form. I 
 shall mention to you a name which is not circled in history 
 with the halo that is attached to many other names, although 
 it well deserves it and that his great importance should be 
 recognized and appreciated. As the Revealed Doctrine is 
 connected with the name of Moses, Tradition with that of 
 Ezra, so Regenerated Judaism is identified with the name of 
 Hillel. The Talmudists have well understood and, in the 
 naive expression of their time, have characterized the import- 
 ance of Hillel in the saying: **The Torah had been forgotten, 
 then Ezra came from Babylon and established it anew; and 
 again the Torah fell into oblivion and Hillel arrived from 
 Babylon and established it anew." It was not forgotten, but 
 it was paralyzed, it was about to lose its vital energy and 
 
114 Judaism and Its History 
 
 influence upon later development, if Hillel, the man of pro- 
 found understanding and true religious life, had not effected 
 its regeneration. It may be that the Babylonian Gemara 
 emphasizes with especial pleasure the fact that Ezra and 
 Hillel had come from Babylon — for the men of the Babylonian 
 Talmud were proud of Babylon, despite the oppression they 
 had to suffer there — and that very fact may contain a truth ; 
 viz., that just such men who had aot been mixed in and were 
 not wholly saturated with the momentary conditions of 
 Palestine, who had breathed a different atmosphere and per- 
 haps viewed wider fields, were especially fit to awaken a new 
 popular spirit. At any rate, Hillel was a man who exerted a 
 decisive influence upon Judaism. 
 
 Hillel is a fully historical person. The records concerning 
 him may surround him with some embellishing legend but 
 those legends only draw some lines more distinctly, they do 
 not cover or blur his portrait. Legends accompany every 
 distinguished man, even in the most historical ages; anecdotes, 
 piquant tales and incidents are related of him, which can not 
 stand the test of historical investigation, but they emanate 
 from his character, so that we must acknowledge that, even 
 if they did not actually come to pass, they are yet in full 
 harmony with his character. Legends of that kind are no 
 fiction, they are the product of true poesy: the inmost depth 
 of such a man's heart is fathomed, pearls are brought up 
 thence which are to be found there and only accident had not 
 started them out into the light of day before ; the sharp contour 
 of his picture becomes more perceptible by them. As a poet, 
 although he does not render history with complete fidelity, 
 nevertheless must portray his hero faithfully, even if adding 
 a line here and changing another there, in order to throw a 
 clearer light upon his entire character, so also does healthy 
 and sound popular tradition treat persons who have taken a 
 well-defined part in history, so that legend must fit closely to 
 them, unable to obliterate their physiognomy. It is true that 
 with others, legend changes their whole character, ornaments 
 them with miracles and covers them with a full stock of tinsel, 
 but the more miraculous legend appears, the less credible it 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 115 
 
 is and the more does it veil the real character of the person. 
 The glorification leaves so much less of the actual historical 
 man. If such a man would have presented a sharp, well- 
 marked outline, legend could not have surrounded it with 
 direct contradictions and could not have obliterated the distinct 
 traits. It did not do so in Hillel's case. Some legends may- 
 have become affixed to his life, but they are so completely in 
 accordance with his character, no miracles are attributed to 
 him, that he continues a man, a sound, whole human being; 
 he is not claimed to be more, and for that very reason he is 
 the greater. 
 
 He is designated as a disciple of Shemaya and Abtalyon. 
 While a poor youth, so it is related, he was once unable to 
 pay to the janitor the small fee which was demanded of those 
 desiring admission. It was a cold winter evening; he climbed 
 up to the window of the lecture room, in order to hear the 
 discourses of the teachers, and there he lay, regardless of what 
 happened around him ; the snowfiakes fell upon him thick and 
 fast and covered him entirely. Stiffened with the cold, he 
 passed the whole night there and when, in the morning the 
 lecture room was opened and daylight would not enter by 
 that window, on examination being made, Hillel was dis- 
 covered, unconscious and half frozen; he was carried into the 
 house and resuscitated. We will pass no judgment on the 
 truth of the tale; if it be but a legend it keeps within the 
 bounds of probability and nature, intended to depict both his 
 extraordinary zeal for study and his great poverty. Of his 
 poverty we are informed also in other ways; but although he 
 had no abundance of the good things of this life, he preserved 
 his independence, and because he was of the common people, 
 he had the more heart for the people and their wants. 
 
 Of all his virtues, his meekness is especially praised. That 
 trait of his wa3 so well known that it has passed into a prover- 
 bial saying. Two men entered into a wager, one of them 
 taking the side that he could arouse Hillel to anger. One 
 Friday evening when people were preparing for the Sabbath 
 he went three times to him and asked him the most trivial 
 questions. Hillel admitted him and answered the questions 
 
116 Judaism and Its History 
 
 in the most quiet manner. When the man, upon his third 
 attempt, perceived that he had failed, he exclaimed violently: 
 "May there not be many in Israel like thee!'* which caused 
 Hillel to ask the reason. *'Why?" replied the questioner, 
 "through thee, I have lost a large bet." "Well," said Hillel, 
 "it is better that thou shouldst lose thy bet than I my calm- 
 ness and humility." Persons desiring information upon 
 Judaism with a view to joining, applied to him as well as to 
 Shammai. Shammai was older and his superior; clinging 
 more to inherited custom and following old, beaten tracks, 
 he was the leader and was first addressed. Such an inquirer 
 came to Shammai, saying: "I desire to join Judaism, but 1 
 make the condition that I shall be made high-priest." Sham- 
 mai sent him rudely away. He then applied to Hillel, who 
 said to him: "My son, let us try." He gave him instruction; 
 soon they came to a passage treating of the priests where it 
 was said of those not descended from priests that they could 
 not enter certain parts of the Temple under penalty of 
 death. And the man said to himself, "If not all native 
 Israelites are permitted to assume priestly functions, how 
 could I do it?" And he withdrew that condition. Another 
 came scoffing and wanted to be taught the tenets of Judaism 
 during the brief space of time that he could stand on one 
 leg. Shammai drove him away; he went with the same 
 request to Hillel, who said to him, "Whatever is displeasing 
 unto thee, do not unto another; that is the foundation and 
 root of Judaism; the rest is commentary which you may learn 
 at your leisure." The scoffer was changed into a convert. 
 A third one came, saying, "I should like to join Vv^ith you; 
 I have read the Written Law, the Bible, and accept it; but I 
 do not want to observe another law which has been but orally 
 transmitted." Shammai repulsed him, but when he applied 
 to Hillel, the latter received him kindly, at once commenced 
 his instruction, and taught him on the first day the letters in 
 their usual order, but on the second, he read them to him in 
 reversed order. "How is this?" asked the pupil, "Yesterday 
 I heard the letters in a different order." "Behold!" replied 
 Hillel, "Yesterday you believed in the order of the letters 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 117 
 
 adopted by me ; follow me further in that which is not written 
 down, but which is only a natural development of the other." 
 Those men became ardent disciples of Judaism and once upon 
 a time, meeting each other, observed, "The harshness of 
 Shammai well-nigh drove us away from the sanctuary, but 
 the suavity of Hillel has kindly initiated us into it.'* 
 
 Such tales afford us a full insight into the character of the 
 man. If it should be supposed from the fact that he pointed 
 to passages of Holy Writ for certain privileges of the priests, 
 that he was favorable to the priests, it would be a great 
 mistake. He accepted what could not be changed by him, 
 but he was the very man who carried on the contest against 
 the priests with all possible determination and narrowed down 
 the limits of their prerogatives most closely. His presenta- 
 tion of the foundation and essence of Judaism fully discloses 
 the sentiment of the man; the essence of Judaism consists in 
 love of man and mutual regard, in the respect of the dignity 
 of man and the equality of all men; the rest is commentary. 
 Do you perchance suppose that Legend has attributed to 
 Hillel in that story a trait out of the life of the founder of 
 another religion? It would be in itself unnatural to adopt 
 from another religion, and especially from a hostile daughter 
 religion, a maxim of which it boasts as its exclusive property; 
 it would rather be contended against and its value denied. 
 Besides, that maxim was not so much in keeping with the 
 rigid legalism of a later time that it should have invented the 
 story which was really an obstacle in their way. But aside 
 from that, as you gain a better knowledge of our Hillel, you 
 will see that the maxim is in full accordance with his char- 
 acter. At an earlier date, the canon had been established: 
 "Whoever believes God to be all-merciful and all-gracious, 
 regards also benevolence and love towards his fellow-men as 
 a fundamental duty." Listen now how our Hillel thinks of 
 God. There are three different classes of men; namely, the 
 fully pious, the intermediary, and the fully wicked. On some 
 future day, there will be a day of judgment for men; the fully 
 pious will at once enjoy their reward, the fully wicked will 
 receive their punishment, but what will become of the inter- 
 
118 Judaism and Its History 
 
 mediary? Of them the School of Shammai says, "They will 
 first be sent into hell, given up to punishment, but will 
 longingly look up and wail and gradually ascend." — "Not 
 so," says Hillel, "as regards the intermediary, He who is 
 abundant in mercy will incline the scale unto mercy." Who- 
 ever entertains such an idea of God, holds also higher opinion 
 of man and teaches love for all mankind. Accordingly, that 
 maxim is quite in agreement with his character. As regards 
 a third point, that he defends Tradition, his very character 
 affords the clue: he is a man of living, continuous development, 
 he demands that actual practical life in its freshness should 
 decide upon measure and form. 
 
 Hillel knows man according to his inner being but no less, 
 according to the demands of life. He is wont to consult with 
 his soul. He hastens, a tale beautifully relates, from the 
 house of learning, in order to attend to a dear guest. His 
 disciples ask him, "Master, who is the dear guest whom thou 
 keepest in thy house from day to day?" "That guest," he 
 replied, "is my own soul — during my intercourse with the 
 world, it must always be pushed back, but it claims its right 
 nevertheless." That is true, profound introspection. But 
 he was, withal, far from sentimentality and transcendentalism; 
 he apprehends life rather in its freshness, beauty and im- 
 portance. A long-drawn-out dispute existed between the 
 Schools of Shammai and Hillel. The adherents of the former 
 maintained in perfect accordance with their gloomy ways, 
 that it would be better for man never to have been born than 
 to be born; the followers of the latter asserted that it is better 
 for man that he has been created; he is born for action and 
 the earth is the place of his activity. They had to yield in 
 a manner, because the others had the greater authority, but 
 their whole yielding amounted to this: "Well, we are 
 created; let us be active, and examine well our action." 
 "Make the most of life and its day," was the motto of Hillel. 
 Whenever Shammai came across anything good and nice 
 during the week, he said, "Let this be kept for the Sabbath." 
 Hillel said, " Praise to God day by day; this is a day on which 
 I may rejoice through the goodness of God; another day will 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 119 
 
 bring its own.** He recognized the claims and the mission 
 of every period, and the difference of the times gave him the 
 rule for his labors. He used to say, "At a time of gathering 
 in when they love to see everything clothed in religious garb, 
 you may spread and scatter, let ceremonies and formalities 
 grow in luxurious abundance; but at a time of casting off, 
 when ceremonies and formalities are dropping out, then pull 
 up, be ready to yield, desist from forcible preservation and 
 enlargement." 
 
 That was the fundamental idea along the lines of which 
 Hillel proceeded, as attested by all his works and words. 
 He presents the picture of a genuine reformer ; that word will 
 not do him any harm ; it ought to raise him in our estimation. 
 He was confronted by the difficulties that present themselves 
 to rejuvenation and revival at all times; some may have told 
 him, "Why wilt thou make changes? Stand by that which is 
 authoritative now. How canst thou usurp the right of making 
 innovations?" The saying of his : " If I work not for myself, 
 who will work for me?" is probably the answer to such 
 objectors. If only that which former times have produced, 
 beyond which we have already passed, shall be binding, and 
 I do not make timely regulations for myself, who is to make 
 them for me? — Others may have said, " Well, keep it to thyself; 
 think and act accordingly; but why wilt thou interfere by 
 introducing changes and reforms for the community?" As 
 if an idea were for one individual only, as if it could be locked 
 up in a box, to be looked at, at an opportune time, while it 
 is in fact a vital energy ruling and impelling man, as the 
 prophet expresses it: "It was in mine heart as a burning 
 fire, shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing 
 and I could not stay." And Hillel's saying replies to those: 
 "If I am for myself alone, what am I then?" — Do I ask 
 anything for myself? The community wants its burden made 
 lighter. "Desist, dear friend," others may have cautioned 
 him, "thou art too hasty." His maxim, "If not now, when 
 then?" is probably the reply to those conservatives. Every 
 age labors and must labor, and if we mean to creep along in 
 indolence, the future is killed in its very germ. Such was 
 
120 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Hillel, and that he labored in that manner, that he was the 
 man who dared to make determined resistance to all aggra- 
 vations, that he never feared the name of mitigator, all will 
 clearly perceive who have once cast a glance into the history 
 of Judaism. I shall not trouble you with details; but I shall 
 adduce a few examples to show how he understood his time. 
 There is a biblical precept that, when a house situated in 
 a city surrounded by a wall has been sold, it can be redeemed by 
 its former owner within a year ; if he has neglected the redemp- 
 tion, the house remains the property of the purchaser (mort- 
 gagee). Usually the grantor (mortgagor) waited till the last 
 day of the term, when he would use every effort to raise the 
 money for the redemption. But often the purchaser (mort- 
 gagee) went away on the last day for redemption and locked 
 the house, in order to make it impossible for the former 
 owner (mortgagor) to repay him the purchase money and 
 regain his property. The law existed, its letter was binding. 
 "No," said Hillel, "the letter is not binding — in case the man 
 in possession is not at home, let the door be forced open, or 
 the money be deposited in the Temple treasury; the lawful 
 owner shall not lose his property in consequence of the 
 cunning used by the other party." Another much more 
 far-reaching example is the following: Every seventh year 
 there was a release of debts, a precept born of the tender 
 spirit of Judaism, but naturally intended only for the simple 
 times when the people's life moved within the plainest 
 conditions. In such a period, only those borrow money who 
 are in actual want and the sums are small — to assist such 
 persons is an act of pure charity — and under such circum- 
 stances the law of the year of release is a very beautiful one; 
 the time has expired, the debt is canceled. But in later times, 
 borrowing and lending were no longer merely the result of 
 want on the one side and of pure generosity on the other; 
 men borrowed for business purposes, to have ready means for 
 carrying on trade; nor did people do the lending from a 
 sentiment of charity, perhaps as a favor, but mainly to share 
 in the profits. Now, if the debtor had an opportunity in the 
 seventh year to get rid of his debts, what would follow as 
 
The World to Come, Hillel 121 
 
 the consequence? That which Holy Writ apprehended; there 
 was no longer any one willing to lend money, because it was 
 known that at a definite time the right of collecting the loan 
 would lapse, because the year of release canceled all debts. 
 How could that be remedied? "What do I care?" said 
 conservatism, ''it is written; the law must stand." "No," 
 said Hillel, "shall business be stopped because the defrauder 
 covers himself with the mantle of the law? Shall the poor 
 starve, because fear of loss ties up the hand of the wealthy 
 — and all in the cause of religion? No, this thing must be 
 remedied. Henceforth the contracts may be executed at 
 court, with the stipulation that the year of release shall not 
 cancel the debt; and that stipulation shall be valid." — "But 
 that is clearly against the law as it is written." — "Maybe; 
 but when we stick to its letter, all morality will be lost; 
 written or not, practical life decides." And Hillel's announce- 
 ment was accepted and prevailed. 
 
 Such was the man and thus he became a restorer or 
 reformer of Judaism, and his influence continues to this day. 
 He did not believe in seclusive piety, as his saying, "Separate 
 not thyself from the community or thy fellow-men," plainly 
 expresses. To assume to be pre-eminently devout, to forsake 
 others as backsliders and bask in a lustre of seclusive piety, 
 is immoral. He had no respect for hermitical piety — he was 
 a man of social practical life and he invigorated and elevated 
 the life of Judaism in all possible manner. How that period 
 might have further shaped itself, if the quiet development of 
 Judaism had thus continued its course, is superfluous to 
 conjecture. Quiet development was not granted to it. Great 
 events came to pass; two events which, taken together, do 
 not constitute the heart and central point of the world's 
 history, but which produced great revolutions; I mean the 
 origin of Christianity and the dissolution of the Jewish 
 Commonwealth. 
 
IX. 
 
 Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity, 
 
 If it is a difficult task to show how the spirit of Religion 
 has entered the human mind and become rooted therein, to 
 disclose the mysterious ways through which its development 
 has passed, to point out the various formations by which it 
 manifested itself amid the chances and changes of external 
 historic life, and yet, at the same time not to lose sight of 
 the Unity of the religious idea: the difficulty of such a task 
 is greatly increased when, in reviewing history, we have 
 arrived at a turning point which is followed by most searching 
 consequences and with which a world-historic transformation 
 begins. Even the various impelling and moving forces which 
 co-operate, as it were, to introduce a new creation into the 
 world, are at work at such a depth that they are concealed 
 from our view and manifest themselves only through their 
 external effects. From insignificant beginnings, limited at 
 first within a narrow circle, a new spiritual power has all at 
 once developed itself; and we must track it into its various 
 starting points, examine how its paths are entwined with and 
 met by circumstances and conditions which favored that 
 development. And here, still another difficulty presents itself. 
 Historical events which have turned into deepest convictions, 
 which are regarded by some as the very life's nerve of their 
 own minds and also of the spiritual movement of the world's 
 history, in fact, as the very aim and center of man's existence, 
 which are reverenced as the Holiest of Holies, challenge our 
 attention; whereas, by the other side, the protest now raised 
 aloud and then again by intentional silence, is no less deter- 
 mined, and also has its root in the idea and conception of 
 human life and destiny. Every one who perceives the moving 
 of the Divine Spirit in the grand course of the world's history, 
 will reverence also God's work in a world-historic event that 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 123 
 
 produced such important transformations in all relations; 
 will see His disposing hand in a faith that has kept for nearly 
 fifteen centuries the civilized world under its sway; he will 
 with reverence examine a religion by which millions have been, 
 and still are, quickened and comforted. And, though he does 
 not share the belief that this historical event should be ven- 
 erated as the spiritual center of the entire historic existence 
 of the world, that an .entirely new spiritual creation had 
 occurred which had illuminated the world with ideas that 
 had never before been felt or conceived; that henceforth it 
 had become the prop and pillar of a new world-structure as 
 well as the only source of a new spiritual life: he will feel 
 himself pressingly called upon to justify his opposition and 
 to explain his interpretation of the peculiarities of those events. 
 But he must also be permitted to utter, though modestly, 
 yet without repression, his own opinion, without fearing that 
 a word might escape his lips which would sound unpleasantly 
 to one side or the other. Whoever respects in himself free, 
 honestly acquired convictions, and claims the right to freely 
 express his own opinion, honoring true manly courage therein, 
 will not, it is hoped, deny the same right to others, but will 
 quietly receive the utterance of an independent conviction, 
 however much it may militate against his own. 
 
 A great world-historic movement approaches; and before 
 we proceed, we must once more vividly place before our eyes 
 the state of the world at that time, especially the conditions 
 in Judea. There was a strong, in part very healthy move- 
 ment of the spirits in that country. The reformatory labors 
 of Hillel had partly turned the minds from the tactical error 
 of assuming priestly garb in the fight against the priest- 
 caste. Phariseeism had entered upon a phase of development 
 wherein it gave the true spirit of Judaism free rein, although, 
 as is the case with all such movements towards reform, only 
 a sort of halfway station had been reached. Priesthood and 
 Temple-service still retained their importance, although that 
 was on the decline; but the elevation of man to free and 
 independent religiousness had not yet reached that high point, 
 from which the sight can behold, free and untrammeled, the 
 
124 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Divine in man ruling the conviction and transforming and 
 creating the outward form. Transformation was ardently 
 striven for, but effected only by closely leaning upon existing 
 forms, and in that manner it succeeded. Continual working 
 along those lines would surely have carried Judaism to higher 
 development. Phariseeism was a sound limb on the body of 
 Judaism, and proved itself as such also at that time. Its 
 adherents were zealous patriots, and at the same time seri- 
 ously devoted to the study and practice of their religion. 
 Yet, with all their efforts to preserve the national and political 
 life, to fortify the customs and independence of their country, 
 they were men who were opposed to every revolutionary 
 enterprise and exerted themselves to moderate all inconsider- 
 ate zeal. They had entered into the heart of political life, 
 their leaders had gradually acquired enough importance to 
 have a weighty voice in the council of the nation by the side 
 of the high-priests, the chiefs of the Sadducees, to pronounce 
 their decisive judgment concerning both political and civil 
 affairs. And it could now be seen that they themselves, 
 formerly the men of violent opposition, weighed with prudent 
 circumspection the means at their command, and well esti- 
 mated the forces in their hands. Even Josephus, the fawning 
 and partial historian of that time, is forced to acknowledge, 
 when speaking of the man who stood at the head of the 
 Pharisees during the period of the Jewish war — Simon Ben 
 Gamaliel, grandson or great-grandson of Hillel, who was no 
 friend of Josephus but rather opposed him in his measures 
 because he probably had suspicions about him — even Josephus 
 is forced to concede that Simon Ben Gamaliel was a man of 
 determined energy joined with the most circumspect prudence, 
 a man who studiously sought to keep the people from com- 
 mitting excesses, who by no means approved the foolhardy 
 enterprises which shall yet present themselves to our atten- 
 tion. Thus the Pharisees, though powerfully impelled by 
 religious hopes for the future, lived nevertheless chiefly in 
 their present, and their energies and activities were directed 
 towards improving conditions in their own time. • 
 
 But in such times as we have under consideration, men of 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 125 
 
 that stamp might in a measure preserve their authority, but 
 they could never satisfy the people. Rome was knocking at 
 the gates of Jerusalem with an iron hand, to lay it heavily 
 on the neck of the nation ; the distant roll of the thunder was 
 heard long before the storm burst forth in its full fury. There 
 is a saying of our ancient teachers still extant: ** Forty years 
 before the Temple was destroyed, its gates opened and could 
 no more be closed." Be that as it may, at all events the 
 words convey the idea that even a generation before the 
 catastrophe actually occurred, all eyes were turned towards 
 it with alarm, and people settled down to the conviction that 
 a desperate struggle was coming, that the battle would have 
 to be fought even if it should turn out barren of results. In 
 such times, the mass of the people will not regard prudent 
 moderation as a virtue. It chooses quite different men for 
 its favorites, men who come forward with burning zeal, with 
 a fervor of faith and patriotism bordering on raving madness, 
 to whom every means appears fair as long as it seems to lead 
 towards the accomplishment of their object; men who, with- 
 out reflecting whether or not their means are sufficient and 
 without regarding what the result may be, will attempt 
 anything to give vent to the vehemence of their emotions, 
 even if it should accelerate the catastrophe. Such men did 
 appear, and even their contemporaries designated them by 
 the fully characteristic name of Zealots {Kannaim), With 
 their zeal for their faith, they nurtured an implacable hatred 
 against the tyrannical rule and influence of the foreigners. 
 On account of the insufficiency of the means at their command, 
 many of fhem had no scruples against employing such means 
 as would have been indignantly rejected in more quiet times. 
 They were also called Sikarioi, because they carried a dagger, 
 concealed beneath their cloaks and secretly stabbed everyone 
 who advocated moderation and, by that, appeared to them 
 suspicious, as a traitor hired by the enemy. They were so 
 numerous and well-connected together, they were in such 
 favor with the population, that the legal authorities dared 
 not lay hands upon them. With such ideas, revolts occurred. 
 Judah of Gaulonitis, a Galilean, proclaimed it as a crime, as 
 
126 Judaism and Its History 
 
 a denial of religion, to obey the empire or to yield in any 
 manner to the secular rule imposed by a foreign country. 
 "There is but one kingdom," so ran his dictum, "and that is 
 the kingdom of Heaven, the Kingdom of God. When the 
 country's God-believing power is broken and is to bow down 
 before the heathen unbelief, then is the world moved from 
 its foundation. Our duty, first and last, is not to yield to 
 that worldly power." In his eyes it was a sin to touch a 
 piece of money which had the picture of the Roman Emperor 
 on it; to pay taxes to a foreign power was a crime; to date 
 contracts according to the Roman custom, under this or that 
 Consul, or under this or that Procurator, was blasphemy as 
 well as treason against the country. The words of another 
 one of those Galilean zealots are related as follows: "How 
 can you Pharisees make any claim to piety? You write in 
 contracts the name of the foreign ruler by the side of that of 
 Moses, beginning them with *In the . . . year of the 
 Emperor . . . .' and conclude with * according to the 
 law of Moses and Israel.' If the name of the unbeliever is 
 in such manner incorporated in contracts of marriage and the 
 like, that have any religious significance, can you call that 
 piety?" The Pharisees of course rejected and rebuked such 
 exaggerations, but among the population at large, they rever- 
 berated to such an extent that they led to isolated revolts and 
 the formation of new sects. To such an importance had the 
 party of the Zealots risen that Josephus actually represents 
 the adherents of Judah of Gaulonitis as a fourth sect, by the 
 side of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, and a third one, the 
 Essenes, which last one we shall also consider. Theudas, 
 another Zealot leader, acted on the same ideas somewhat 
 later; he too came from Galilee, stirred up revolts, and found 
 many enthusiastic adherents. That the leaders were crucified 
 by the Romans, did not injure the respect paid to them; their 
 sentiment spread only the more rapidly. 
 
 The feeling which prevailed in Judea, bursting forth in 
 deeds of wild fanaticism, rested on an old spiritual foundation 
 which increased more and more in strength and intensity. 
 Already during the time when the Maccabean war had 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 127 
 
 started, an idea had general circulation which was firmly 
 rooted in the assurance of the faith in themselves, though 
 joined with the certainty of despair that it could not come 
 to pass just then. The idea took form in the exclamation: 
 "The world is breaking up; the future world must soon come." 
 In the book of Daniel which describes those matters in the 
 form of a vision, the mighty powers who rise against the saints 
 of the Most High are described in their full terror; but at the 
 same time he encourages the timid, saying, "A son of man 
 shall then arise, hidden in the clouds of heaven; all empires 
 shall bow to him, all peoples shall yield in obedience to him, 
 and many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall 
 awake and rise up, some to everlasting life and some to 
 everlasting shame." This world is in itself completely ruined 
 and destroyed; a future one, not beyond, but here on this 
 earth, shall appear, in which also the ancient saints, rising 
 up, shall participate. The Kingdom of God, or the Heavenly 
 Kingdom, as it is also called in Daniel, shall come. Of course, 
 the Maccabees did not appear as such sons of men, hidden 
 in clouds of heaven; they were warriors and ended as victors; 
 nor was the position pointed out in the visions reached; the 
 nations did not obey them, the empires did not yield to them, 
 but Judea had become independent. A position had been 
 reached sufficient for the considerate and energetic ; and those 
 hopes for the future fell to the rear into the background. 
 But again a time had come which witnessed spoliations and 
 devastations, and betokened yet greater evils; again, a still 
 more powerful enemy pressed upon Israel with far more 
 effective opposition; again it was intended to break not only 
 the power of the nation as an independent state — for that was 
 already broken — but also their spiritual life was to be crushed 
 out. The worship of images and idols was again to be intro- 
 duced in Judaism, the Emperors were to be adored as gods, 
 as Divij their statues were to be set up in the Temple. Even 
 the Roman standards, adorned with the eagles as the emblem 
 of the Roman Empire, the flight of the bird being observed 
 and interpreted, appeared to the Jews as of idolatrous sig- 
 nificance. And those eagles were ordered to be affixed to the 
 
128 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Temple, and their removal to be punished with death ! Then 
 despair again seized the minds of the people; their religious 
 sentiment was so powerful, ruled all conditions of life, had 
 grown in intensity, and yet was to be crowded down. Then 
 it was that the ancient idea, which had fallen to the rear for 
 awhile, came again with full force to the front : The Kingdom 
 of Heaven will and must come, this world is given up to evil, 
 it is a world of heathenism and doomed to destruction ; let it 
 perish, the future world will soon succeed it; the Kingdom of 
 Heaven appears, the pious will rise up again, and theirs will 
 the kingdom be then. Will you hear the words of a zealot, 
 or rather the disciple of a zealot of a later day, as it has been 
 preserved for us by our ancient teachers? He announces: 
 ** Whoever takes upon himself the yoke of the Law, shakes 
 off the yoke of the empire and the yoke of civil authority ; but 
 whoever shakes off the yoke of the Law, upon him shall be 
 the yoke of the kingdom of this world and the yoke of all 
 civil ordinances.*' Only the Law, the faithful observance of 
 the religious statutes shall and must rule, and when the Law 
 rules, the whole artificial political structure will fall ; all those 
 organizations that keep political life together, unless Religion 
 prescribes them, are superfluous and will vanish; but as soon 
 as you shake off the yoke of the Law, that easy, sweet yoke, 
 then you must bear the whole pressure of the heavy yoke of 
 the world. Therefore away with it, and seriously cling to 
 the Law! Such thoughts filled the hearts, such hopes were 
 entertained with the most decided confidence. 
 
 There were also timid and tender-chorded hearts that did 
 not join in the energetic fury or in the elated hopes, and who 
 found satisfaction for their religious sentiment in seclusion 
 through hermitical asceticism ; they were the Essenes, the third 
 sect mentioned by Josephus. They did not influence the 
 changing conditions of the commonwealth, yet found favor 
 and won disciples; they were regarded as having power to 
 work miracles and were revered on account of their quiet, 
 pious practices. The Essenes, generally speaking, did not 
 greatly differ from the Pharisees; they were of the Middle 
 Class, were not at all on a friendly footing with the aristocracy 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 129 
 
 and the priests; they are even reported as having altogether 
 repudiated animal sacrifices, but (far more than the most 
 extreme Pharisees and almost in opposition to the main body 
 of them) they shunned as much as possible all contact with 
 the world at large, secluding themselves, as it were, in the 
 secret sanctuary of their hearts, satisfying their spiritual 
 wants by mystical contemplation. They regarded the world 
 and its affairs with indifference; they are even said (but the 
 only authority for particulars about them is the very unre- 
 liable Josephus) to have espoused celibacy, community of 
 property, etc. All that increased their reputation and they 
 gained reverence as healers, workers of miracles, prophets, 
 but they exerted no influence upon the development of events. 
 
 Such was the state of feeling in Judea. 
 
 Whatever found expression and shape in and around 
 Jerusalem, the center of the kingdom, found also not alone 
 its echo, but even its peculiar intensified expression in the 
 outermost limits of the country; and these outermost limits 
 were Galilee. Galilee was separated from Judea only by 
 Samaria, inhabited from very early times by a mixed people, 
 whence its name, "the Land of the Nations," surrounded by 
 Syrians and Phoenicians, and containing quite a number of 
 settlements of those populations. You have probably read 
 in a recent work a very glowing description of Galilee of that 
 time. It runs about like this: "Galilee is a highly fertile, 
 picturesque country in which pleasant plains are varied by 
 green, wooded hills whose soil furnishes everything that man 
 can wish for; its inhabitants are unsophisticated children of 
 nature, harmless, ignorant men, and lovely ignorant women 
 who follow an enthusiastic youth with innocent love." It is 
 not exactly stated whether that love is directed more to the 
 person or to the cause he represents. I am sorry that I have 
 to demolish this charming idyl. It is true, Galilee was a 
 fruitful country; it was intersected by rivers and hills, and 
 yielded an abundance for the gratification of all physical 
 wants; its inhabitants were ignorant indeed; their language 
 was mixed and corrupt, having lost its purity and character 
 and accepted many foreign elements. Hence the people 
 
130 Judaism and Its History 
 
 stood not so high as the inhabitants of Judea. But their 
 ignorance was by no means an idyllic life of quietude. On 
 the contrary, it was blended with a certain amount of savage- 
 ness. The revolutionists before mentioned, those who sought 
 to do away with their opponents by fire and sword, by dagger 
 and other secret means, hailed mostly from Galilee. Young 
 Herod, even at a period just preceding the one under con- 
 sideration, gave the first proofs of his character in Galilee. 
 He had executed the robbers around about there without 
 ceremony and mercy, driven to it by the exigencies of the 
 case. He was indicted for it; but his power — although at the 
 time he was but governor of the province of Galilee under his 
 father Antipater, the representative of Hyrcanus — had even 
 then become so great that the Sanhedrim did not dare to 
 pass judgment against him, and it is certain that he had good 
 cause for his extraordinary proceeding. For a spirit had 
 spread in Galilee, such as generally lays hold of that portion 
 of a people which only receives the general impetus of a 
 movement without being able to account clearly for the 
 reasons and causes. The Galileans were, if I may be per- 
 mitted to coin the term, the Marseillesians of the Jewish 
 struggle, of that commotion which surged so violently. It 
 was in Galilee where the most violent and extreme movements 
 found the fullest applause. In a similar way, as the Galileans 
 were inclined to rebellion, so they were ruled and inflamed by 
 the belief that this world was breaking down and a new 
 world, the future world, would soon appear — an idea which 
 visionaries who use little reflection but have strong feeling, 
 will always readily accept. It was there probably, where 
 John went about exclaiming, "Repent, for the Kingdom of 
 Heaven is near at hand." That kingdom is the future world 
 — the rule of justice on this earth, the destruction of all 
 secular fetters and the illegitimate reign of heathenism to 
 which the present world is given over as prey. 
 
 Thus the hearts were in full agitation, prepared for the 
 most wonderful phenomena. 
 
 It was then that a man appeared in Galilee who still more 
 confidently gave shape to the commotion of the times. While 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 131 
 
 others before him had merely advised preparation for the 
 Kingdom of Heaven, promising that it would come — that a 
 son of man wrapt in the clouds of heaven would appear — 
 that a complete transformation would take place, while others 
 acted only as prophets and proclaimers of that belief, bearing 
 in their imagination that hope without giving it shape, he 
 had the courage and confidence to state, "The time is ful- 
 filled, the Kingdom of Heaven is come, and the son of man 
 wrapt in the clouds of heaven" — at first he did not distinctly 
 pronounce it, but he had the belief within him and let it shine 
 through everjrwhere — "that son of man, I am.'* It was not 
 his idea to carry on a fight against the kingdom of this world ; 
 the words attributed to him by a later narrator, " My kingdom 
 is not of this world" may have fully corresponded to that 
 belief. It means, " My kingdom does not begin in the present 
 heathen world ; this heathen world will soon have been broken 
 up and passed away; the future world will then come in, 
 actually and tangibly, and then my kingdom will begin." 
 He was fully convinced of that, and in all later times of deep 
 oppression we meet with men who presented themselves with 
 the same self-assurance as Messiahs. Should we wonder that 
 at such a time of general tension and suspense, a bold and 
 glowing enthusiasm for Judaism and its reign at large should 
 completely possess and carry an over-anxious man to the 
 point of faith in himself, of filling him with the courage to 
 announce those hopes with the fullest assurance? It was 
 such a belief that animated the first author of Christianity. \ 
 He was a Jew, a Pharisean Jew with Galilean coloring — a man 
 who joined in the hopes of his time and who believed that 
 those hopes were fulfilled in him. He did not utter a new 
 thought, nor did he break down the barriers of nationality. 
 When a foreign woman came to him with request to heal her, 
 he said, " It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast 
 it to the dogs." He did not abolish any part of Judaism; he 
 was a Pharisee who walked in the way of Hillel, did not set 
 the most decided value upon every single external form, yet 
 proclaimed "that not the least tittle should be taken from 
 the Law;" "The Pharisees sit in Moses' seat, and whatsoever 
 
132* Judaism and Its History 
 
 they bid you observe, that observe and do.'* It is true that, 
 if the accounts are faithful, he allowed himself to be carried 
 away to trifling depreciatory expressions concerning one 
 subject or another, when he was opposed ; but he never faltered 
 in his original convictions. The replies which we learn from 
 the most faithful reporter — a completely accurate report can 
 hardly be expected, but the one styled "according to Mark'* 
 is the most reliable — the objections and tests presented to 
 him rest all on the basis which he occupied. The Sadducees 
 took him to task concerning the resurrection which he dis- 
 tinctly-emphasized with his assertion of the entrance of the 
 future world, of the kingdom of Heaven. With the scoffing 
 question, "Moses wrote unto us, if a man*s brother die and 
 leave his wife behind him and leave no children, that his 
 brother take his wife and raise up seed unto his brother; — 
 now there were seven brothers, and the first took a wife, and 
 dying, left no seed; and the second took her and died, neither 
 left he any seed; and the third likewise, and the seven had 
 her and left no seed; last of all, the woman died also; — in the 
 resurrection therefore, when they shall rise, whose wife shall 
 she be?" — with that scoffing question, cunningly calculated 
 to meet his assertion of the speedy appearance of the future 
 world and the resurrection, the Sadducees met him. He 
 replied, "The future world will appear, but there will be no 
 more marrying nor giving in marriage." When a Pharisee 
 heard that and found that the answer was a good one, he 
 asked, "Which is the first commandment of all?" and Jesus 
 replied, "The first of all commandments is, Hear O Israel, 
 God is our Lord, God is One (this beginning of his answer is 
 found only in Mark, the other Evangelists — a very significant 
 pointer — have omitted it) and thou shalt love God thy Lord 
 with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind 
 and with all thy strength. This is the first commandment. 
 And the second is like, namely this: Thou shalt love thy 
 neighbor as thyself." There was nothing new in that. And 
 the Pharisee replied, "Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: 
 for there is one God; and there is none other but he: And 
 to love him with all the heart and with all the understanding 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 133 
 
 and with all the soul and with all the strength, and to love 
 his neighbor as himself, is more than all whole burnt-offerings 
 and sacrifices." The Pharisee raised no objection, for what 
 he had heard corresponded fully to his own conviction. That 
 reply of the Pharisee is also to be found only in Mark; the 
 other later Gospels shape it to suit their purposes. 
 
 If the author of Christianity is represented as having 
 taught the specific doctrine: "God is a God of love and not 
 of anger and vengeance," it is likewise a later addition which 
 is not found in the book of the more faithful narrator. What 
 could be added to the saying of Hillel: "The Merciful 
 incline th the scale toward mercy?" If Jesus* utterances con- 
 cerning the purely moral relations of men to each other are 
 indeed faithfully reported, they either present nothing new, or 
 whatever is new, bears such a diseased character as belongs 
 to a diseased age. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" 
 was a saying to which the Pharisee gave his approval, "Well, 
 Master, thou hast said the truth!" But in the varying 
 reports, Jesus is said also to have praised poverty and con- 
 tempt of the world and everything that proceeds from this 
 world ; to have repudiated cheerful participation in the affairs 
 of this world. Such doctrines are not taught by Phariseeism; 
 on the contrary, it announces this principle: "The world is 
 an ante-chamber for the future one; prepare thyself well in 
 the ante-chamber, that thou mayest appear properly in the 
 reception room. One hour in the future world is sweeter than 
 all enjoyments in this one, but also, one hour in this world 
 spent in the study of the Law and the performance of good 
 deeds, is better than all the pleasures in the future world.'* 
 If such cheerful and energetic participation in the affairs of 
 this world, undertaken in honor and honesty, is to be shunned 
 and everything earthly to be despised, it must be a morbid 
 tendency, unless it can be explained by the belief that the 
 future world, organized quite differently, was near at hand. 
 If an alleged morality is to suppress every sense of justice, 
 if the doctrine is to prevail: "Whosoever shall smite thee 
 on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also" (in other 
 words, Do not only suffer, but lose all sense of honor) and 
 
134 Judaism and Its History 
 
 also: " If anyone take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak 
 also," if that be the new doctrine proclaimed by Jesus {Jesus 
 is the Greek pronunciation of the name Joshua; Joshua, the 
 son of Nun, is called Jesus by the Greek translators, and so 
 is Jesus Sirach), then it is either the product of a diseased 
 period which perverts all order and destroys all notions of 
 right, or it proceeds from the transfer of an entirely different 
 future world into the present. 
 
 Thus the movement started at first, and no new departure 
 in religion is exhibited, although the impulse to one was con- 
 tained in it. It was the belief in the fulfilment of the Mes- 
 sianic hopes entertained by Pharisean Judaism of that period. 
 Whatever else is related concerning the author of Christianity 
 belongs to that class of myths or legends which we have 
 alluded to in a former place. Whenever legend fails to make 
 the outlines of a person sharper and more distinct, whenever 
 it fails to draw its matter from the distinctive character and 
 essence of the man and thereby throws more light upon him; 
 but when, on the contrary, it adorns him so much that he 
 becomes unrecognizable, far exalted beyond all individual dis- 
 tinctness and volatilizes him into a mere abstraction, then the 
 legend is a formation of the imagination which in exuberant 
 growth shapes things out of the dim fancies of the period and 
 wraps them in an ever deepening darkness. 
 
 That the first author of Christianity found believing 
 adherents was the natural effect of the conditions of his time. , 
 At first, the educated and intelligent were not attracted by 
 him. In Galilee, a small band who stood low and were 
 despised by the bulk of the population — many of them 
 mercenaries of the government, publicans that gathered the 
 taxes for the hated empire, upon whom the whole weight of 
 contempt rested, who were shunned on all sides; they, the 
 low and vulgar, willingly listened to his announcement. 
 "They that are whole have no need of the physician, but 
 they that are sick,'* he said. And those sick ones were 
 gathered around him. Soon he did not confine his addresses 
 to those exiles from the population; his fame spread, and he 
 ventured to move to the metropolis of Judea. But soon, 
 
Parties and Sects, Origin of Christianity 135 
 
 charges were made against him. Here and there he also met 
 approval, he was hailed with, "Hosanna, son of David." 
 For such he must needs be, if he meant to be a Messiah. 
 He was brought before a court, and we are not told that a 
 large number of followers were with him, so that they would 
 have been afraid to pronounce judgment against him. The 
 judgment had to be executed by the procurator. Pilate asked 
 him, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" and he replied, 
 "Thou sayest it." He did not deny it. According to a later 
 account, he added, "My kingdom is not of this world" — of 
 course not, but of the future which will soon come and appear. 
 "Verily I say unto you, there be some standing here which 
 shall not taste of death till they see the Kingdom of God" — 
 "there be many here who shall see it how the end of 
 things shall be fulfilled." To Pilate, the whole matter 
 seemed strange, unintelligible doings, not important enough 
 to demand his rigorous interference, but the people to whom 
 he left it to pray for his release, according to an ancient 
 custom, giving them the right to obtain pardon for a criminal 
 before a festival, repudiated all fellowship with him and 
 refused their intercession. Thus a judgment was pronounced 
 which could not have been different in a time of such commo- 
 tion, which threatened to be made still more miserable by the 
 announcement of lying hopes — for such they were to those who 
 did not believe in him — and by the implied attempt at revolu- 
 tion. Imbued with the religious convictions of his time, he 
 raised himself into a position which was not accorded to him, 
 represented the hope of the future as fulfilled and embodied 
 in himself, raised expectations of a complete change in all 
 political conditions, and ignored the whole civil arrangement 
 of the time, even if he did not start a revolt. Under such 
 circumstances, the verdict could not have been otherwise; he 
 was crucified, as was Judah of Gaulonitis and his followers 
 at a previous time. The adherents of Jesus at first were 
 stunned by that issue, but not shaken in their belief. Of 
 course this world moves on in its course, he also dies; this 
 world must hate him, it had power yet for a short time, but 
 the Heavenly Kingdom comes, then he rises again, the 
 
136 Judaism and Its History 
 
 resurrection will start with him and then become general. 
 That faith prevailed even during his lifetime, it could not be 
 shaken by his death ; on the contrary, it was but natural that 
 it would appear more vividly in the foreground. He must 
 rise again — he will surely rise again — and soon the opinion 
 was arrived at: He is risen — he is gone to heaven and will 
 appear again, wrapt in the clouds of heaven at the general 
 resurrection with the entrance of the Heavenly Kingdom. 
 That course of development is perfectly natural, there is 
 nothing strange about it; and his disciples see him, waiting 
 day by day for his glorious return. That is the first dispo- 
 sition to the origin of Christianity, the germ out of which the 
 mighty tree comes forth, to which the other factors become 
 joined, to gradually transform the sect, feeble in its incip- 
 iency, into a ruling power. 
 
X. 
 
 The Evolution of Christianity. 
 
 By the side of the various tendencies then existing within 
 Judaism, by the side of Sadduceeism, of Phariseeism with 
 the profound commotion within it, of Essenism, of Zealotism, 
 of the following of Juda of Gaulonitis, and some other minor 
 groups, all within the small territory of Judea — a proof of 
 the deepest excitement of all forces, of a severe struggle, both 
 spiritual and political — by the side of those various tendencies, 
 another new one sprouted from the soil of Pharisean Judaism, 
 that of the fulfilled Messianism. The Greek translation of 
 that term is Christianity; Messiah, the anointed (Christos) 
 was the designation of the king who was expected to 
 inaugurate the future world, to bring about, while destroying 
 the entire present ancient world, the conditions in which 
 God alone shall be King, and the Heavenly Kingdom, or 
 the Kingdom of God, proclaimed and introduced by that 
 Messiah, shall prevail. Thus the belief in the fulfilled 
 Messiahship, or Christianity, presented the claim that the 
 new world was now beginning, or had already begun, that 
 the Messiah had appeared, that he had died within the old 
 world, in fact, had to die in it, but would rise, had even risen, 
 and would soon reappear in the clouds of heaven, in order to 
 completely arrange the new world, to force all mankind to 
 submit to the Kingdom of God, and to call a new race into 
 existence, even outside of the present disrupted and corrupted 
 civil laws. Such was the new tendency which now came 
 to the surface within Judaism, and starting from the very 
 soil of Phariseeism. 
 
 The new feature was this, that the event which all, or at 
 least the greater part of the Jewish people regarded as some- 
 thing to come in a far-distant time, and therefore sketched 
 in indistinct outline, was now believed to have been fully 
 
138 Judaism and Its History 
 
 accomplished and would soon show up in its full glory. 
 That was the first phase of Christianity. That tendency 
 could not make much growth within Judaism in Palestine. 
 The old time was indeed a gloomy and hard one for the Jews 
 there; that the old world was doomed to perish, was a belief 
 which afforded them comfort and fortitude; but that it had 
 already perished, that a new world had already appeared, 
 was a great step from reality into imagination, which the 
 facts and actual conditions most emphatically refuted. " No, 
 the new world has not yet appeared, though we most fervently 
 hope for it," was the general verdict. Besides, the minds 
 were burdened with too many heavy cares to indulge in the 
 play of the imagination that the future had actually come. 
 Every day brought new troubles; as often as the sun arose, 
 it shone upon new struggles and new hardships — all energies 
 were called for, not to indulge in speculation and to strengthen 
 a belief which stamped ideals of the future as present real- 
 ities, but to give undivided attention to the actual present 
 with its burdens and oppression. Accordingly, the belief 
 in the actual fulfilment of the Messianic hope spread very 
 little within the boundaries of Palestine. The historian 
 of that time, Josephus Flavins, makes no mention of the 
 author of the tendency and of the tendency itself, while he 
 treats extensively of all the others, especially of those which 
 were of a very recent date: that of Juda of Gaulonitis, that 
 of Theudas, of the Zealots, and gives a full account of the 
 persons and their purposes. The few lines found in the pre- 
 sent shape of his book concerning the author of Christianity, 
 bear the most distinct mark of a later interpolation ; the brief 
 words are in the fullest conflict with the character of the whole 
 book, are without connection, a fragmentary patch, not the 
 work of an author who elaborates the task proposed to 
 himself, according to a certain plan. 
 
 Within Palestine, the tendency could not gain an extensive 
 spread. The lower class of the people, by nature prone to 
 believe in wonders, and greedy of miracles, who, because 
 pushed to the rear by the better class, gladly take up some- 
 thing new — the lower class were the first to take and follow 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 139 
 
 the new lead. That miracle-mad class creates its fulfilled 
 prophecies and miracles with the greatest ease, in luxurious 
 abundance. Accordingly the new doctrine was almost entirely 
 covered with the most luxuriant creepers of the superstition of 
 the lower class of the time. The belief in Demons who can be 
 found everywhere in innumerable multitudes, as evil spirits 
 infest the atmosphere, take possession of men and infatuate 
 them, but can be driven out by incantation — that crude 
 belief in demons may now and then be found in Jewish writ- 
 ings, but it forms by no means their center and substance. 
 But such matters occupy a very great portion of the records 
 of incipient Christianity; the stories of the work of the Devil, 
 that he possesses humanity, that his hosts enter men as 
 demons, and that the possessed are cured again, almost crowd 
 out everything else. 
 
 Such was its course in Palestine. 
 
 It fared differently among the Jews residing elsewhere. 
 From ancient time, Jews had been living among the Grecians, 
 had formed congregations, and their numbers were swelled 
 by emigration from Judea so much the more, the gloomier 
 the conditions became there. Although those Grecian Jews 
 felt deep sympathy with the sufferings of their brethren in their 
 old home country; although every woe that befell Palestine, 
 found a responsive chord in their hearts; although they 
 looked with reverence toward the holy land which ever 
 remained to them their parent soil, yet they did not have 
 to go through the struggles or fight the battles themselves. 
 While arms clashed in Judea, while all energies were called 
 upon, day after day, to attend to the demands of the day, to 
 endure its labors and hardships, to make front against vexations 
 and irritations ; while thus in Judea, mind and strength 
 were directed entirely towards the present, the Grecian 
 Jews were but passive spectators who from afar beheld with 
 profound grief, perhaps derided as aliens with different 
 customs and ceremonies by the nations among whom they 
 lived, yet from a safe distance the ruin of their parent country 
 and the probable loss of their spiritual center. Now, as they 
 were also looking with hope and trust for the new time in 
 
140 Judaism and Its History 
 
 which they were to be rid of those ills that were with them 
 of rather a mental nature, they were much nearer to the belief 
 that such hopes would soon be fulfilled, or even that they 
 were fulfilled. They were not pressed down by the burdens of 
 the day, they breathed more freely; hence hope had freer play. 
 Besides, the announcements of the enthusiastic votaries 
 were more readily believed in the distance than among those 
 who had seen everything pass before their own eyes. Thus 
 it happened that Messianic Judaism proclaimed as already 
 fulfilled, found a far greater number of adherents within 
 Grecian-Jewish colonies even in the very beginning. And 
 among them the new belief met again a new spiritual element. 
 The Grecian Jews possessed a Greco- philosophical trait 
 which they had interwoven with their religious belief. The 
 religious speculations tended towards the recognition of a 
 divine reflex, a Logos, the Divine Thought which, as emana- 
 tion from God, had called the world into existence and keeps 
 up the connection with it; filled with the spiritual idea of Juda- 
 ism, philosophy attempted to place God beyond all contact 
 with the material world, to put him so far beyond all that is 
 finite and temporal that a certain connecting link was found 
 necessary for making it possible to deduce the creation and 
 preservation of the world from God. The Logos, the Thought, 
 the Reflex, the Idea emanating from God, was the DemiourgoSf 
 the creator of the world. Whether he was to be regarded as 
 an individual being, or as a mere idea, remained undecided; 
 it was a habit begun by Plato, to keep the idea suspended 
 between something actually existing and something merely 
 imaginary. Now, the Thought, the Idea, or the "Word," 
 all of which meanings are in the Greek term Logos, was in a 
 way, the connecting link, the medium or mediator between 
 God and the world, and was, as Philo and others expressed 
 it in bold poetic figure, the only begotten (Monogenes) of 
 God — a bold, poetic expression, but justified by their 
 philosophic system. The Thought born of God, but always 
 remaining with God, could justly be called the one and only 
 begotten son of God. That conception and its figure of 
 speech had spread afar and become common property, and 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 141 
 
 leaning upon expressions in Holy Writ, such as the word of 
 God, the glory of God, and other similar terms, it did not 
 remain confined to the Grecian Jews, but passed also into 
 the vernacular of Palestine. Here, Logos was Memra, the 
 "Word," the emanation from God to guide mankind, the 
 medium or means for all that produces effects upon the 
 senses, and the Chaldean version uses the word "Memra" 
 when it seeks to avoid sensible, corporeal attributes to God. 
 Now, a new world has come, the future world is becoming a 
 reality. The world had first been created through the Logos, 
 through its mediation. If then the ancient world, created by 
 the Logos, passes away and a new world takes its place, if 
 the future world becomes the present reality, can that have 
 been created by anything else than the Logos? To be sure, 
 the Messiah is the Logos, the Word, the only begotten son 
 of God! The Messianic idea is thus transplanted upon 
 another soil, the views are transformed, and the Son of Man 
 is changed into the Son of God, at first only as an idea, as 
 a philosophical thought; but in the belief of the multitude, he 
 soon becomes the real Son of God. The Son of God creates 
 a new world; the old one is destroyed; by his appearance, a 
 new one is being inaugurated. By his appearance — should 
 he indeed have been born like an ordinary man? The 
 Palestinian Messiah is a descendant of David, is born like 
 any other son of man, enters the world with a sublime mission 
 from God, yet without being more than a man. But should 
 the Logos, the Son of God, enter into the world as a child of 
 human parents — the Logos a child? the Logos born in human 
 manner? Are those not contradictory terms? If generation 
 and birth can be spoken of in connection with him, they can 
 not be understood as ordinary, natural events. He is the 
 Son of God; of course he enters the flesh, but in a miraculous 
 manner: a mother gives him birth, but the Spirit of God is 
 his father. That was a transformation which necessarily 
 grew from the contact with Grecian Judaism. And if such 
 was his entrance, how about his exit from the world? The 
 Messiah is a man, even if vested with divine power, yet he 
 ever remains an instrument in the hand of God. He can die, 
 
142 Judaism and Its History 
 
 can be killed, he appears again, he will inaugurate the new 
 world, he rises again, he is risen again. But how can the 
 only begotten son of God, who bears within himself the full 
 power of God, be killed? Why of course he can not be killed 
 by human power, but he may die, if he wills it himself — he 
 can voluntarily give himself up an apparent sacrifice. The 
 old world must perish, it was also begotten by the Logos — 
 Adam represented the archetype of the human race, Adam 
 bore within him the whole of mankind. According to that 
 philosophic system which holds that everything is produced 
 by a process of emanation and effluence, and that the higher 
 contains the lower, in the first man, in Adam, lay also the 
 whole human race. Now, if the human race has become so 
 corrupt, if the old world has turned so evil that it must perish, 
 such a condition must be referred back to Adam. He sinned, 
 and through his sin the entire succeeding race became diseased, 
 and in order to be made whole, the old world must die and a 
 new one arise. But, if the old world must die, must not all 
 men perish with it? No, the Logos himself, the creator of 
 the human race, dies for it. By means of his incarnation he 
 takes upon himself the whole punishment of humanity, sac- 
 rifices himself for the human race; but his divinity remains, 
 and henceforward fills the new mankind. 
 
 Such were the new conceptions which developed themselves 
 out of the Jewish-Grecian philosophy, making thorough- 
 going changes in the idea concerning God and coming 
 very near to going beyond the bounds of Judaism. And 
 concerning man also, those new conceptions produced a mighty 
 change. Judaism teaches that man dies for his sin, that 
 everyone receives his punishment for his own transgressions; 
 that God is a forgiving and merciful God who, though He 
 allows no sin to go unpunished, yet works no universal 
 destruction on account of sin, and least of all, visits the sin 
 of a man upon others, even if his near relatives. Necessarily, 
 a totally different view arose upon that point. In one man 
 — of course in the first of all men — all men had sinned ; guilt 
 had been bequeathed, all bore the disease wrought by that 
 guilt, it clung to them as fetters from which they could not 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 143 
 
 relieve themselves. That was the second phase of Christianity. 
 Such ideas are foreign to Judaism, they are merely grafted 
 upon it. Some mystical speculative minds might have 
 favored them, but a general acceptance could not be effected, 
 even among the Grecian Jews. 
 
 While in the first phase of Christianity, the Kingdom of 
 God as brought about the human Messiah is emphasized, in 
 the second phase, the Son of God is brought to the front. Of 
 the miraculous conception and birth connected with that 
 transformation of ideas, the most faithful report "according 
 to Mark" knows nothing; even if in its present form — rarely 
 enough — ^here and there the expression "Son of God" occurs, 
 it occupied pretty much the first stage of development in 
 which there T^as no necessity for such an idea. Only in the 
 second phase the miraculous generation makes its appearance, 
 and still later, in another account, which stands wholly on 
 Grecian footing, in the one bearing the name of John, we find 
 the full, plain statement that the Logos became flesh and 
 appeared on earth ; that as the vicar of the whole human race 
 he had taken their sins upon himself and expiated them by 
 his death. Such was the second phase of Christianity, and 
 it had thereby almost ceased to represent a tendency within 
 Judaism, however much it kept still within its pale. For as 
 yet we find no efforts made to break out through the barriers 
 of Judaism, to effect changes and transformations, such as 
 to declare that the law was abolished and that its provisions 
 had lost their validity. Of course, an impulse thereto lay in 
 the very root of the matter. The Messianic time — such is 
 the expression all through ancient Judaism — is to be quite 
 different from the present, all special statutes and ordinances 
 will cease, all separation is to vanish. Thus there was in the 
 very belief that the Messiah had come, that a new world had 
 appeared, the impulse to transform all practices in life. And 
 yet, thus far the demand is not uttered. 
 
 But the more the new tendency, the belief in the new 
 Messiahship placed itself beyond the pale of Judaism, the 
 more it came into conflict with its essence and fundamental 
 principles, so much the more it must have felt the pressure 
 
144 Judaism and Its History 
 
 to go outside of it. The belief had adopted ideas which, the 
 farther they were developed, came in the most glaring conflict 
 with the basic principles of Judaism; to remain standing still 
 at that point was impossible; there was but this alternative, 
 either to pass beyond the pale of Judaism, or to cease to exist. 
 Compromise was out of the question. The impulse for spread- 
 ing outside of Judaism was natural. If the Logos had indeed 
 appeared, if a new world had really come, that new world 
 must form itself out of itself through the belief in the Messiah 
 who had come, who had risen to reform the world; through 
 him alone, even if starting from Judaism, the new world must 
 be built up. A man of force and decision first uttered that 
 word, he had the courage to break down the bridge. It was 
 Paul, a Grecian Jew, not a disciple of the author of Christian- 
 ity, who had never been in personal touch with Jesus who had 
 always with determination proclaimed and emphasized the 
 continuance of Judaism in all its parts. Paul at first per- 
 secuted the adherents of the new tendency; he was a man of 
 thoroughgoing work who could brook no half-way doing. 
 Either to oppose the new departure with all determination, or 
 to carry it through to its extremest consequences, such was 
 his character. On the way to Damascus, that is, to the Gre- 
 cian cities, a new idea struck him: "How, if in the tendency 
 as it has been developed by Hellenism there be a truth, and 
 by that truth a new order of things, a new world could be 
 inaugurated? Judaism teaches that the Messiah is destined 
 for all mankind; the Logos is the creator of the world, the 
 creator of all mankind — well then, forth to all mankind! 
 Down with all barriers! Let the new Messianic Judaism take 
 them all!" Such was Paul's conclusion, and with that began 
 the third phase of Christianity. 
 
 A new formation now arose. Paul constituted himself the 
 Apostle to the Gentiles ; he first ventured to address the people 
 outside of Judaism, to preach the new doctrine to those who 
 were outside of the movement and unaffected by the course 
 of its development and must have been startled by his an- 
 nouncement. He carried the pure doctrine concerning God 
 into the pagan world and made the Jewish moral and religious 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 145 
 
 ideas the common property of mankind, but without the aids 
 to their observance as formulated in clear and certain laws. 
 That was sufficient for those people, and the general spread 
 of those truths of Judaism was a mighty step in the advance 
 of mankind. The various historically evolved laws were not 
 known to them, and would have been an intolerable burden. 
 For a declaration of their abolition or invalidity no justifica- 
 tion was called for, for them; but for Paul's own conscience 
 and for the believers won over from the Jews, it was neces- 
 sary. Granted even that the God-given law has lost its 
 binding force in this Messianic time, does it not remain a 
 sanctifying power, does it not exalt those who still cling to 
 it and observe it? Granted even that it should not be 
 imposed upon Gentiles as a binding rule, could it be taken 
 away from the Jews who were born into such obligations? 
 Should it not remain at least for them as a means of higher 
 sanctification? Should the express declaration of its in- 
 validity not be postponed at least until the return of the 
 Messiah and the complete establishment of the new world? 
 Paul was undecided. Although the bold idea of uniting the 
 whole human race under the banner of one belief had silenced 
 all doubts within his own heart, it was not so easy to move 
 his Jewish brethren in the faith, from their view. They had 
 already merged the ancient practices with the new faith. 
 Why then, should they discontinue them? Paul hesitated, 
 and drew a distinction: "Let the Jews cling to their ancient 
 accustomed law; for the Gentiles, the new belief is sufficient." 
 But that brought a dangerous cleft into the new faith and 
 Paul's entire plan would have been wrecked thereby. Such 
 a double-headed arrangement of votaries of the same belief, 
 producing in itself confusion, bore the germ of dissolution in 
 its own bosom. By it, the Gentiles did not appear as citizens 
 of equal rights in the new Empire of Religion; the Jews 
 remained the privileged class of saints by birth and the 
 continued observance of the law, the Gentile believers were 
 but an unholy appendage. And just they were the main 
 support of Paul. 
 
 Thus Paul was forced to take a further step. It was not 
 
146 Judaism and Its History 
 
 sufficient to designate the *'Law" as superfluous, as dis- 
 pensable, it must be entirely abolished, it must be declared 
 an obstacle to holiness. The present observance of the law, 
 such was his next proceeding, is not merely unmeritorious, 
 it is the result of a defective faith, the true believer is not 
 even permitted to practice the ordinances of the Law. How 
 should the observance of the Law be a sin? Was it not given 
 by God? Was it not binding in former days, and should now 
 its observance be even sinful? Yes indeed, Paul made 
 response, the Law was given by God, but in behalf of sinful 
 mankind to the Jews; it is in a measure, the result of sin; 
 it is a "yoke," but not a sweet one, it is a hard and heavy 
 yoke. The new faith is a sweet yoke, a blessing for all 
 mankind; the old law was a curse, a scourge for the Jewish 
 people; the ban is removed in consequence of the vicarious 
 death of Jesus; the whole, human race, the Jews as well as 
 the Gentiles, are now sanctified through the Holy Spirit 
 which has been poured out over all mankind. And will ye 
 be willing to remain further under the curse, under the 
 scourge, now when a blessing, a kinder treatment awaits 
 you? Break the Law! If you desire to be the saints, you 
 must fully acknowledge the fulfilled salvation. Away with 
 circumcision, away with the dietary laws! The former is a 
 token of the old covenant, a new one has been established; 
 the latter consider the Gentile meats as idolatrous sacrificial 
 repasts, but they have now become feasts of love and sweet 
 communion. 
 
 That line of thought was, on the one hand, the most 
 logical consistency, but contained also, on the other hand, the 
 most trenchant severity against Judaism, because not alone 
 its forms, while appropriating its fundamental principles, 
 were represented as worthless, but because it was violently 
 divested of its entire profound intrinsic substance. A recon- 
 ciliation of such views with Judaism, "even if representing it 
 as a divine institution but merely for the past, could be 
 established only by the most artful dialectics, which Paul 
 practised by both oral instruction and epistles. He created 
 an imposing effect, but did not carry matters so easily. A 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 147 
 
 violent struggle arose between the so-called Judaizing Chris- 
 tians and the Gentile Christians. The doctrine of Judaizing 
 Christianity — i. e., Messianism joined to continued observ- 
 ance of the whole Jewish Law — was predominating; the new 
 (Paulinian) tendency seeking to obtrude itself upon it, was 
 contended against, not alone by the Jews, but also by the 
 Judaizing Christians. The new Christians were called 
 Balaamites, men who attempted to introduce idolatrous 
 sacrifices among the Jews, as Balaam had sought to lead the 
 Israelites astray by idolatrous practices. Violent struggles 
 and frequent splits occurred within the various congregations; 
 mutual concessions were made and peace was restored; only 
 after a long time, after many ups and downs in the fight. 
 Gentile Christianity prevailed, as it was in the nature of the 
 case. Within Judaism, the contradiction of the ideas was 
 too glaring — there could be no harmony of mind in an indi- 
 vidual who attempted to be a Jew on the one side, and tried 
 to accept for the present, Messiah and Logos ideas — to be a 
 worshiper of the One God and to make an addition by a new 
 element of God. The conflict did not last long; Judaizing 
 Christianity succumbed to pagan-Gentile Christianity which 
 was the third phase of Christianity. Heathendom had formerly 
 been held to be unclean, impure, unholy; now the Holy Spirit 
 — a genuine Jewish idea in itself — entered the new world, 
 purifying and sanctifying it. The third phase was now com- 
 plete, and with that belief in the Holy Ghost which pours out 
 over all mankind and acts as a creative personality, comes 
 into prominence. Thus there was in three phases of develop- 
 ment which could not be parted from one another and which 
 were bound to run together into one complete course, the 
 belief in the Trinity. God and His Kingdom was the first 
 phase; the Son of God to establish the Kingdom, was the 
 second; the Holy Spirit to purify all mankind, constituted the 
 third ; their connection into a unit thenceforward formed the 
 essence of the belief. Christianity, thus fully developed, was 
 destined to enter heathendom. 
 
 But could it indeed enter heathendom — were the pagans 
 prepared and inclined to adopt it? Let us now cast a glance 
 
148 Judaism and Its History 
 
 at the pagan world. We no longer stand on the ground of 
 ancient Hellenism. The educated classes of the time are no 
 longer illumined by philosophy, no longer develop their ideas 
 with an original creative energy, as at the time of the ancient 
 Greeks — we behold a very different age. Roman spirit rules 
 that world, everything proceeds from Rome, her hand rests 
 heavily on all nations. Rome has a great mission to fulfill 
 in the world's history, and is fulfilling it, somewhat in the 
 same manner as absolutism works in the evolution of the state. 
 Absolutism, that rule of might by one man without regard to 
 the rights of all the rest, which is so clearly designated by 
 the words of Louis XIV.: "L'etat, c'est moV — "I am the 
 state" — as a form of government, represents, properly speak- 
 ing, no idea at all; it has no innate justification for investing 
 one man with all possible power, and divesting all the others 
 of their natural rights, yet absolutism has its place in the 
 historic evolution — it was its mission to level mankind, to 
 produce an equality of the various prerogatives that had 
 grown up as estates with all their perverted phenomena; to 
 destroy at one blow, all those prerogatives that had become 
 an obstacle in the world's progress; to convert all into slaves 
 first, in order that afterwards all might become free citizens, 
 and that every one of them might have free chance according 
 to his ability and merit. A similar mission was that of Rome 
 in the history of the world. Rome united the world under 
 one and the same oppression, brought all nations into servi- 
 tude, forced their approach to one another, and brought them 
 close together. Rome did not develop from within herself 
 any peculiar native spiritual power or ideas; whatever she 
 accomplished in the realm of the mind was imitation, was 
 adopted, and merely adopted superficially and poorly. 
 Philosophy dragged on a sickly life among the Romans, and 
 was popularized in the most sober conceptions; all other 
 mental and spiritual products that gained authority, had 
 been received from without, borrowed, transplanted upon 
 Roman soil, but were not sustained by creative vigor, did not 
 originate from native excellence. 
 
 If mental and spiritual life in general did not occupy a 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 149 
 
 high plane, it was but natural that the idea of God, the 
 doctrine concerning gods, was in a still worse condition. 
 The mythology of the Greeks was not the strongest point of 
 their culture, of their spiritual life, but yet there is a certain 
 ideality in it; it bears the impress of the law of beauty; it 
 contains ideas which, though they are wrapped in corporeal 
 forms and as such sensible phenomena were not deeply rooted 
 in the mind of the people, could nevertheless give the impulse 
 to a higher conception, and philosophy deepened that con- 
 ception. In Rome, mythology was something bare, a kind 
 of home-made product. The gods of the house, the Lares and 
 Penates, were to a certain degree the center of religious life; 
 the boundaries of the fields received consecration; the affairs 
 of every-day life, of the rude popular power, were personified 
 and worshiped as gods. And when with advancing culture, 
 with the contact with Hellenism, not alone general science, 
 though in rather faded state, but also an acquaintance with 
 Greek mythology entered Rome, a curious mixture took place: 
 the Greek divinities were identified with those of ancient 
 Rome, the former were forced down from their ideal heights, 
 and the latter were divested of their originality. Thence- 
 forward there were but shadows that the people adored. 
 
 Then even in Hellenism, a tendency arose to divest Greek 
 mythology of all poetic character, and very soon Rome was 
 ready to adopt the same. Euhemeros was the name of a 
 Grecian author who reduced mythology to the level of most 
 vulgar rationalism. The gods — thus he taught — ^were great 
 kings who were glorified and raised into high position by later 
 admirers. All that is related of them is but embellishment 
 of common events which we must trace back to their plain, 
 natural realities. If, for example, Kronos is said to have 
 swallowed his own children and to have been dethroned by 
 Jupiter, he makes it out to be the history of a king in ancient 
 times, when human sacrifices were in vogue, who was de- 
 throned by another king that abolished such immolation of 
 human beings. In such way everything in Greek mythology 
 was flattened out, divested of its deeper meaning; for after 
 all, poetic thought, even if clothed in fanciful garb of the 
 
150 JXJDAISM AND ItS HiSTORY 
 
 imagination, is more profound than such platitude. That 
 conception soon invaded Rome; the book of Euhemeros was 
 translated into Latin, and his views became predominant. 
 The old customs still prevailed, the old priestly institution, 
 the ancient sacrificial service, the examination of the entrails 
 of the sacrificed animals, the observation of the flight of birds 
 — all were still in practice, but the belief in them no longer 
 existed. It became almost a proverbial saying that two 
 augurs meeting had to do all in their power not to burst into 
 laughter. If the gods were but human beings, it was naturally 
 an easy step to make gods out of men, and it came about 
 that the emperors with their passions and follies were adored 
 as gods, and they demanded and received such divine worship. 
 To such a low point all religious life had sunk in Rome and 
 in the world in which she ruled. 
 
 But human nature is not satisfied with such a state of 
 things. As there arose bold disbelief on the one side, so 
 started on the other side a longing for another faith, a desire 
 for a higher idea, for something wonderful that does not meet 
 the eye, day after day in the natural course of events. Along- 
 side of disbelief, superstition arose ; for such is human nature 
 that, by the side of luxuriant materialism, rapping spirits are 
 honored. Thus Rome became full of a number of the most 
 varying and heterogeneous ways of divine worship. The 
 Oriental divinities which, by their novelty and their mys- 
 terious character, offered stimulation to the imagination, 
 were in great preference. Judaism also spread in Rome to a 
 considerable extent, but it was too serious and too earnest a 
 religion to be accepted by the degenerate Roman world at 
 large. Now, a new belief presented itself, which was in close 
 touch with heathendom, and yet was altogether different. A 
 man who was at the same time a god, was the center; but 
 the manner and form of his appearance, the doctrine con- 
 nected with the belief in him, had impressed upon that new 
 religion a character such as had, until then, not been pre- 
 sented to them. It must have made a deep impression, 
 acted as a caustic, and gave new elasticity to the enervated 
 minds. And thus the doctrine of Christianity, in its third 
 
The Evolution of Christianity 151 
 
 phase, when it had become accessible to the whole human 
 race, made its entrance into heathendom. It went in, not 
 as a triumphator, not as a power that strikes like a bolt of 
 lightning illuminating the minds and overpowering, but very 
 gradually, after being fought against for a long time, and only 
 after centuries, raised to the throne and made dominating the 
 religion by an event that has not yet been fully cleared up. 
 After a long protracted struggle, it penetrated into the 
 heathen world — it was then Christianity completely severed 
 from Judaism. It went its own way, and we are not called 
 upon to farther follow its history. Yet it is for us to give 
 an answer to the question. Is there any task left to Judaism 
 by the side of Christianity which has now become a religion 
 of the world? Or is Judaism in a state of decay, an ancient 
 ruin that should be abandoned? The reply to that question 
 which forces itself upon us requires, before we follow the 
 history of Judaism any farther, that we take yet another look 
 at Christianity. 
 
XL 
 
 Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power. 
 The Destruction of Jewish Nationality. 
 
 The inspiring proclamation which the prophets of Judaism 
 had sent into the world with the most determined confidence 
 — namely, that a time shall come when God alone shall be 
 acknowledged, when peace based upon justice shall unite and 
 gladden all mankind — that glance at an ennobled future of 
 truth and human brotherhood contained a decided energy 
 which afforded Judaism durability and courage and conferred 
 upon it a never-failing self-confidence going hand in hand with 
 the very development of mankind. In direct contrast to 
 Greek mythology, which places the golden age in the very 
 cradle of the human race, and lets it be followed by times 
 more and more worthless, Judaism preserves the sublime 
 belief that mankind is the fertile soil out of which the seed of 
 the spirit shall ripen into an abundant harvest. Hence also 
 the mighty perseverance displayed by Judaism; and this very 
 hope has proved its preserving energy throughout the cen- 
 turies. But now, if such hope is not merely hailed as one the 
 fruition of which yet was to be in a distant future, if it is 
 announced as one soon to be fulfilled, if times appear when 
 men boldly proclaim, "The present world is broken down to 
 its very foundation — the new world, the Messianic time must 
 and will soon take its place," then that confidence, that glance 
 at the speedily approaching future in which a complete 
 betterment and transformation was to take place, created a 
 courage and a strength which could make front and battle 
 against the greatest obstacles. We beheld that phenomenon 
 in the time of the Maccabean wars which, although a sore 
 trial, yet could not break the popular strength, because the 
 sure conviction of a change of the conditions living in the 
 
Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power 153 
 
 minds of the people, produced an unconquerable, unshaken 
 confidence. But now, if even the proclamation is made, 
 "The old world has perished, is broken up, the new one has 
 already appeared; a new human race, as it was promised, 
 now lives and shall live henceforth" — that belief in oneself, 
 that confidence entertained by mankind or a portion of man- 
 kind, such increased self -consciousness contains a power 
 which naturally invested that portion of mankind, not only 
 with an intensive elasticity to persevere even under the most 
 trying conditions, but even to present an imposing front to 
 the world at large. 
 
 A sublime self-confidence, the bold assertion of one's own 
 power, bears within itself such an energy that the rest of the 
 world is astonished and shaken thereby. We see such an 
 effect in the history of even individuals. If a man confronts 
 the world with the full conviction of his own worth, if he has 
 the belief in himself, he will obtain much, his bold demand will 
 actually compel many to yield to him ; his belief in himself will 
 beget also the belief of others in him. Review the great char- 
 acters in the world's history and you will find this generally 
 proven : they became great because they presented themselves 
 with the claim of being great. When Caesar said, **This ship 
 carries Caesar and his destiny," such an expression of his full 
 conviction, that the destiny of the whole world was interlaced 
 with his own, contained an imposing power. When the 
 French Revolution entered into the world's history with the 
 determined conviction, "The old times have perished, a 
 completely new time must come," when it announced itself 
 as a New Era with which a new computation of time must 
 begin, its successes did not come so much from the new ideas 
 which it created, nor from the positive truths which it pro- 
 claimed, but from its very determination, from its belief in 
 itself. That constituted its triumphant power that gave it 
 the impulse to spread all over the world. If it was indeed a 
 new world, the whole earth must be subjected to it, no barrier 
 of any nationality must impede its onward march. That 
 constituted also the power of Christianity when it presented 
 itself to the world. 
 
154 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Christianity proclaimed, "I am the new mankind, the new 
 world is come, the old world is dead and broken up." That 
 was a word making an epoch ; and if the author of Christianity 
 is represented as having said, "I am the truth, the way, and 
 the life," the words are probably apocryphal, the idea and 
 the claims with which Christianity represented itself to the 
 world found their full expression in them. I am a new power, 
 a new world, all must yield to me; before me there was 
 nothing, before me — such was the assertion — there were but 
 sin, decay, and spiritual perversity; all the wisdom of former 
 times is but tinkling folly, all their virtue but shining vice. 
 Even while it puts its structure on the foundation of Judaism, 
 acknowledged the ancient sacred scriptures of the Jews, 
 adopted their contents, it yet announced — and if it is not 
 found in the earlier writings, it is the full consequence of its 
 doctrine and is contained in the teaching of Paul — that the 
 author of Christianity had to descend into hell in order to 
 save all the damned souls of former times. All those pa- 
 triarchs, devout men, prophets, preachers of truth and 
 religion, were acknowledged of course, yet they were doomed 
 to spiritual death. *'For with me," such was the assertion, 
 "the new race begins, and all that existed before is vain, and 
 not only vain, but entirely corrupt." Such boldness 
 contains a force which not only exerts an inspiring influence 
 upon its adherents, but also has a startling effect upon 
 outsiders. And if such claims happen to strike an age and 
 a community that are really decayed and in a decline, they 
 take them as productive of full health. Mankind at the 
 time, had become severed from its former phases of develop- 
 ment; it had arrived at a point where decay commences; its 
 vigor formerly existing in Hellenism and indirectly transmitted 
 to Rome, was exhausted, had lost its impulse. From the 
 decay in all conditions they found but one way of salvation, 
 and that way was disavowal of this world, in casting off 
 everything that appeared unsound. With all that, Chris- 
 tianity had to struggle for several centuries before it prevailed, 
 as it was bound to prevail in that degenerate Grecian-Roman 
 world. Whether it would have been able to effect a reforma- 
 
Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power 155 
 
 tion and new creation within the empire, is a question un- 
 answered by history. It swept away, like a wind-storm, all 
 the withered leaves of the ancient culture, and covered up 
 all fragments of the ancient magnificent mental structure; but 
 whether it would then have been able to construct new 
 edifices on the sam.e ground, we may just as well answer 
 negatively, as it is claimed affirmatively by others; history 
 leaves us without the slightest intimation on that point. We 
 may perhaps find in Byzantinism, which represents a con- 
 tinued development of the Grecian world within Christianity, 
 such an intimation of an answer to the query where the world 
 would have been driven if the ancient elements had been 
 permitted to develop under the rule of Christianity — that 
 answer would not be favorable, of course. 
 
 But the new world was destined to take a different course. 
 Antiquity was annihilated, not only in its remnants, by 
 Christianity, it was also in part destroyed in its very elements, 
 thoroughly riddled and mixed up with new material. The 
 migration of nations brought a host of uncivilized new people, 
 still possessing pristine vigor, into that ancient world. And 
 there Christianity unfolded its special important power; there 
 it fulfilled its great mission within mankind. There no ancient 
 recollections were to be wiped out — those nations had no 
 history in the true sense of the word — they possessed no 
 peculiar culture of their own, but they were characters of 
 primitive vigor. To meet that, and to thunder into their 
 ears, their minds, their conscience, "Your force is nothing, your 
 intrepidity is wickedness, your natural propensities are sin, 
 all your creature endowments are degeneracy" — to tame those 
 iron bodies, and make gentle those obstinate spirits, to startle 
 those rude consciences, that was the task of a world-power, 
 of a power that asserted of itself, "I am all in all; all your 
 actions, all your efforts, all your boasts of your bodily strength 
 with which you might confront an enervated world, all those 
 are vain. You must bend your necks under my yoke." 
 Such an autocratic edict prepared the nature of those people 
 for a truly spiritual and moral culture, the religious and moral 
 elements that were thrown out of Christianity into that virgin 
 
156 Judaism and Its History 
 
 soil found a fertile ground there, receptive to produce mature 
 fruit. This is the grand work of Christianity, that it met 
 as a spiritual power a raw product of nature, a power that 
 boasted merely of stalwart arms and iron strength of bodies. 
 And Christianity executed at the same time, its grand mission 
 by this, that it united the nations hitherto living in isolation 
 and stupid seclusion, that it entwined the bond of humanity 
 around those separate and selfishly closed-up elements, infused 
 into them ideas of a common interest, and wove them together 
 into a great human aspiration. That is the power of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 But that which was, and still is, its power, is at the same 
 time its weakness. It made the assertion, "I am the new 
 world, all that existed before is nothing," and accordingly 
 smashed and destroyed everything humane, beautiful, and 
 noble, that earlier times had produced. It is not due to 
 Christianity, if anything has been saved out of the wrecking. 
 For it opposed with a perfect mania for destruction, not only 
 what was idolatrous and pagan as such, but all the mental 
 treasures of Antiquity too — all was adjudged to be the work 
 of the devil, all must be destroyed. The genius of mankind 
 has ordered with more charity, has saved it from losing it 
 all, it has saved productions of the art and the science of 
 earlier times, some in fragments, others in full, fine form, in 
 order that later times may be elevated and fertilized through 
 them; the genius of mankind has protected it against such 
 complete self-destruction, and that too, in the most deter- 
 mined opposition to the demands of Christianity, and has 
 shown that it is mightier than the latter. Christianity dis- 
 avowed the old world, denied both its proper existence and 
 its right of existence — all right was to begin with itself and 
 from thenceforth it never tolerated anything to exist by its 
 side as long as it had the power of suppression. "There is 
 nothing outside of me, I am mankind, I rule mankind, all 
 the actions of the world must be under my superintendence, 
 must be according to my rule," such is its ever-recurring 
 demand. Every development in the human world which 
 would take its course by the side of Christianity, was desig- 
 
Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power 157 
 
 nated by it as a sin, as heresy, and fought against with all 
 determination. When we contemplate the world's history 
 with an unprejudiced eye, we find the assertion that Chris- 
 tianity is the mother of modern culture a decided error. 
 The Christian Religion, the Church representing its body, has 
 always fought against science, she has invariably declared 
 every light that would shine beside her own, to be a will-o'- 
 the-wisp, false light that must be put out. 
 
 For that reason, its power could not gain full entrance 
 into those portions of mankind whose native character was 
 still healthy, and which still produced from within themselves 
 a healthy development. Even paganism made a long fight 
 with Christianity, not because it so highly honored its idols 
 and considered them as nearer to truth than the doctrine of 
 Christianity. That belief had long been shaken, that struggle 
 proceeded from the higher culture among the pagans. Their 
 philosophic schools disputed the teachings of the new religion 
 with an enthusiasm born of their love of science. The neo- 
 platonic, neo-pythagorean, and other schools protested with 
 all their might against the glorification of ignorance, against 
 the praise given to the poor in spirit, against the lustre that 
 was claimed to attach to the lack of wisdom. Christianity 
 had great difficulty to force that power of a higher culture to 
 yield. Only fire and sword, the greatest physical horrors, not 
 the power of the spirit, finally annihilated its fragments. Yet 
 in the ninth century such scattered remnants as had been 
 preserved in the East, the Harranensians, asserted with full 
 consciousness that they stood far higher than the Christians. 
 Thabet Ben Korra, a Harranensian Syrian pagan — for even 
 into the tenth century philosophic Hellenism had preserved 
 its existence in those regions, until the combined fury of 
 Christianity and Mohammedanism succeeded in destroying 
 even those small remnants — Thabet Ben Korra says in one 
 of his books, "When many were subjected by violence to 
 error, our fathers persevered with the help of God, and escaped 
 through their heroism, and this blessed city (Harran) has 
 never been defiled by the errors from Nazareth. We are now 
 the heirs and transmitters of heathenism which shone. so 
 
158 Judaism and Its History 
 
 brilliantly in this world. Happy is he that, with unshaken 
 confidence, endures sufferings for the sake of heathenism. 
 Who rendered the earth habitable, who built the cities for 
 places of abode for families, who else than the nobles and 
 kings of heathenism? Who constructed the havens, made 
 the rivers navigable, who discovered hidden sciences? . . 
 Only the renowned among the heathens have fathomed 
 that, have caused soothing of souls to come about, shown the 
 means for their liberation; they have also discovered and 
 taught the healing of the flesh; they alone have filled the 
 world with well-ordered morals, with wisdom which is the 
 chief of excellency. Without those fruits of heathenism, the 
 world would be void, poor, wrapped in deficiency and scanti- 
 ness." That is a proud assertion, but an assertion emanating 
 from the consciousness of the object in view, to which the 
 latest remnants of philosophic paganism clung with perfect 
 clearness in their struggle against Christianity. And again, 
 when the nations attained to independence, when a new 
 human culture grew up within them, when they awoke to a 
 free use of their mental and spiritual powers, then also the 
 struggle at once began against Christianity, as well as the 
 fight of Christianity against all those new formations which 
 it condemned as heresy and even condemns today in its 
 consistency. For the power of Catholicism consists in this, 
 that it most decidedly asserts the claims of Christianity in all 
 their consequences, that it represents itself as the only power 
 on earth vested with the prerogative of regarding the whole 
 world as subject to its authority, that it appoints bishops in 
 partibus infidelium, that it maintains, "I alone am the human 
 race, and to those who represent me, the whole world must 
 do homage, all consciences must disclose themselves to them, 
 all spirits must bow to them, and all impulses and endow- 
 ments of men must yield their service to me." 
 
 That assertion which constitutes the power of Chris- 
 tianity, contains also its weakness which is that it is not 
 willing to work as a spiritual power within mankind, but 
 claims to stand above mankind, and denies humanity itself 
 in all its other relations. It would be folly joined to bias- 
 
Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power 159 
 
 phemy, were we to deny that a religion which has exhibited 
 such a power through eighteen centuries, has not a mission 
 imposed upon it by God; but on the other hand, it would be 
 no less a defiance of history if we were to deny a historic 
 mission to that religion which is the mother and root of the 
 new religion and which, throughout all the period that the 
 other developed its power to its full extent, still preserved 
 its existence despite all oppression and derision, poverty and 
 broken conditions, aye, even when its spiritual eye was by 
 violence covered with darkness — to that religion which has, 
 despite all that, preserved its existence, exhibited its vitality 
 with renewed freshness whenever it was permitted to move, 
 and at all times retained a fund of spiritual ability, moral 
 stimulation, and moral power. It could not have existed 
 throughout that long period alongside of Christianity, it must 
 have decayed, it must have died long ago or have been 
 brought near death, if it did not have within itself a healthy 
 vitality. 
 
 Yes, Judaism has been preserved alongside of Chris- 
 tianity, and despite Christianity. It has been assailed not 
 alone with carnal weapons, with fire and sword, with expulsion 
 and oppression, but also with, spiritual weapons; all the good 
 and noble elements accorded to Judaism before it had given 
 birth to Christianity, were adjudged as simply a preparation 
 for Christianity, as Christian property even before its exist- 
 ence. Judaism has kept alive nevertheless, has saved its 
 eternal treasures, and has not allowed itself to be dimmed. 
 It has not permitted its belief in God to be disfigured and 
 combined with foreign elements. It has not allowed the 
 doctrine of original sin to be grafted into it, though great 
 pains were taken in the attempt to deduce that idea from the 
 Scriptures; it has not permitted the annihilation of the title 
 of the nobifity of mankind and has clung to the conviction 
 that man has been invested by God with the power of free 
 self-determination and self-improvement; that despite the 
 sensual propensity innate in man*s nature, he is vested with 
 the power of conquering it and of reaching by his own exertions 
 the goal of elation and ennoblement. And precisely because 
 
160 Judaism and Its History 
 
 it remained free from the doctrine of original sin and the cor- 
 ruption of human nature, it never had any need or desire for 
 again attaining purification by means of an extraneous 
 redemption. It has never exchanged its Merciful God for the 
 God of that Love which, to satisfy its anger, requires a grand, 
 sufficiently vicarious sacrifice. Judaism has not regarded the 
 development of mankind towards a higher goal as a negation 
 of itself, and therefore has never undertaken a fight against 
 the process; it has never announced the verdict: "The time 
 is already fulfilled; eighteen centuries ago the keystone was 
 put in, being the keystone of one world and at the same time, 
 the foundation stone of another — there is the whole truth; 
 nothing can be added." 
 
 Christianity must needs look upon that time as the most 
 important in the world's history, it is its heart and center — 
 the person that brought it about must always remain its 
 highest ideal. Even the most liberal-minded, who divest the 
 author of Christianity of everything miraculous about him, 
 can not escape the urgent necessity of creating for themselves, 
 in order to retain some connection with their religion, a 
 fanciful, artificially constructed ideal to which they attribute 
 the greatest earthly perfection — a form which falls to pieces 
 before criticism far more quickly than the old massive pre- 
 sentation. Judaism, on the contrary, can dispense with 
 individualities, it can allow free play to criticism on all its 
 great men, even if it were to go so far — which it might do 
 only in overbold presumption — as to erase Moses out of 
 history. We might perhaps regret such work; but is it 
 Moses, is it any one of the succeeding elaborators, upon whom 
 the foundation of Judaism rests? The doctrine exists; therein 
 is its belief and it will continue its existence; the doctrine 
 stands of itself as it entered Judaism, no matter who taught 
 it, no matter who was the historic individual that was the 
 means of its announcement; no matter whether he was free 
 from sin or a man not free from human foibles. Therefore, 
 Judaism has preserved its mission, its history is not broken 
 by the rise of Christianity. It acknowledges in that, a great 
 world-historic event which deserves to be appreciated in its 
 
Christianity as an Ecclesiastical World-Power 161 
 
 full significance and hence the following question must suggest 
 itself to a Jew: "Why do you not appreciate it in the same 
 manner as a large portion of the human race do? Why do 
 you recognize in it only a world-transforming event, and not 
 as the sole truth, the full, whole, unclouded truth entered 
 into the world?" Having reached in our view of the course 
 of the development of Judaism the time of the rise of Chris- 
 tianity, we could not avoid the task of examining what that 
 tendency which was started within Judaism and afterwards 
 shaped itself into a world-power, was to us, and how we explain 
 it and its triumphant march. It is not my intention to 
 furnish a criticism of Christianity, and still much less to 
 attack a faith that did and still does inspire millions, or to 
 give offense to devout hearts. But after all, it is our duty 
 to state clearly how those who do not profess that belief, 
 regard it in its origin and as a world-historic event — and what 
 justifies us in preserving, alongside of it, our own spiritual 
 structure and even to add thereto. Whoever is not willing 
 to listen to our defense may close his ears and shut his eyes; 
 but he must not bear us any ill-will for it, nor deny us the 
 free expression of our opinion. 
 
 Judaism had arrived at a period which was in the highest 
 degree fraught with danger. Our review left it at a time when 
 all destructive powers gnawed at its vitals, when from with- 
 out, all-powerful Rome charged down upon it, and within, 
 the parties were riotously burrowing and thereby threatening 
 to undermine its best elements. And it was under such con- 
 ditions that it commenced and continued the fight which was 
 decided against it, or rather against its national existence.. 
 Such issue was in the very nature of things. The small nation 
 had to succumb to Rome; it could not, for any great length, 
 of time, withstand her superior power. Besides, it was not its 
 mission to establish a nation, its nationality was but a temporal 
 hull, a necessary means for fortifying the belief and so deeply 
 rooting it in the constitution of the individual members that 
 it could continue to live with full vitality even in their dis- 
 persion. That point having been reached, the national form 
 might be broken. Of course, the men living in that period 
 
162 Judaism and Its History 
 
 did not see it in that light. They fought with courage and 
 enthusiasm in defense of their national existence. I shall 
 not place before you the sufferings endured by that little 
 band; I shall not depict to you how slain were heaped upon 
 slain, how destruction progressed step by step, how the men 
 closed up breaches in the walls by their bodies, how enthusiasm 
 sustained the waning strength of the weakened arms; I shall 
 not detain you with the woes and lamentations that filled 
 those times. Suffice it to say, the Temple fell, the nationality 
 was demolished, Judah ceased from being a nation, her 
 citizens were driven from their ancient soil, again led into 
 exile and dispersed all over the globe. The hatred of the 
 victor, who was deeply mortified at having been forced to a 
 test of his fighting qualities for a long time by such a small 
 nation, persecuted them; scorn and oppression weighed them 
 down, especially when the daughter-religion ascended the 
 throne of Rome. From that time on, a tearful drama unfolds 
 itself before our eyes, the most painful sufferings without and 
 within were not wanting ; for even the minds and spirits were 
 oppressed, and gloomy despair often took possession of the 
 hearts; and it almost seems as if they must have been forced 
 to lose confidence in the truths which had become part and 
 parcel of their being. And yet, it is not a tearful tragedy; 
 the tragic unfolded in the destiny of the Jews since that time, 
 contains a grand idea, discloses a profound conviction which 
 remains alive, and preserves a spiritual freshness which never 
 suffers itself to be bent down, an original vigor which again 
 and again expands wherever room is granted to it. The 
 history since that time is not a mere fatal tragedy, it is more 
 than may be guessed or felt by romance which sees in Jewish 
 history but a continuous woe over which to shed tears in a 
 sentimental mood, but over which the staff must be broken 
 without mercy. No! the power of resistance in Judaism 
 knows not alone how to suffer, but knows also how to preserve 
 and create in the domain of the spirit. The drama is not yet 
 concluded^ and he only, who shall have seen the last scene of 
 it, may pronounce a full verdict. 
 
XII. 
 In the Dispersion. 
 
 The Jewish commonwealth was destroyed, dissolved, the 
 Jewish nationality disrupted, the Temple was burnt down. 
 Whether the tears which Titus is said to have shed at the 
 sight of the devastation, flowed from the depth of his heart, 
 or whether they were hypocritical — what does history care 
 about it? What did it matter to the scattered remnants of 
 the Jewish people? They had been struck a severe blow, and 
 however long it may have been foreseen, however well they 
 may have been prepared for it, they stood deeply shaken, 
 wounded and broken in their innermost hearts. 
 
 Sadduceeism was annihilated. What was now left for the 
 priests and the men of rank? The priests with their minis- 
 trations in the Temple, with the sacrificial service, were 
 banished from the sacred places; they were defiled, their traces 
 could hardly be seen any longer; what was left for the priests? 
 Legend tells us that they threw the keys of the Temple and 
 sacred cells toward heaven, exclaiming, "Do Thou preserve 
 them. Heavenly Father; we have no more use for them." 
 And the officials and men of rank, what were they to do? 
 Not a shadow of political rule was left; there was no more 
 struggling for office and distinction, no separation from, nor 
 elevation above the masses; one oppression weighed upon all, 
 all glory was buried in one grave. The Sadducees vanished 
 from history. 
 
 The Zealots — the Kannaim — stood in sullen anger, in 
 brooding depression; but what avails anger in opposition to 
 superior power? For some time they nursed plans of revenge ; 
 guerilla warfare continued to devastate Judea; isolated forts, 
 unimportant outposts, were for a time defended with fool- 
 hardy bravery — they too, fell. The fire which they kindled 
 served only to consume them. Still two generations later, 
 
164 Judaism and Its History 
 
 an insurrection arose, a new Messiah appeared; Bar Kosiba 
 placed himself at the head of bold, daring men, and found 
 adherents and confidence among even the considerate and 
 sober-minded. He was a hero in the full meaning of that 
 word, and succeeded with a small band in resisting mighty 
 Rome for years. The war of Adrian assumed large dimen- 
 sions, but resulted, of course, in a further destruction of the 
 weak remnant and an increase in repressive measures. The 
 Roman, ordinarily caring little or nothing about the religion 
 of his enemy, felt too well that he was confronted by a mental 
 and spiritual force which offered him greater resistance than 
 the feeble bodies of its defenders, and his fury was kindled 
 against Judaism and its customs and ceremonies. The 
 observance of ceremonies and ordinances of Judaism, of 
 everything that externally designated the Jew, was punished 
 with death — the blood of martyrs flowed in streams. It was 
 but natural that renewed vigor of the faith should be produced 
 by that blood, but the demolition of independence as a nation 
 was sealed thereby for all time. The Zealots (Kannaim) 
 gradually disappeared, leaving but their name behind them; 
 blind fanatics who, misjudging the holy spirit of history, fight 
 against the power of the times, and seek violently to preserve 
 the ancient conditions, are called "zealots." 
 
 Pharisees of the ancient strict observance still existed in 
 large numbers — the Shammaites who had made resistance to 
 the power of the priests by covering themselves with the garb 
 of priestly law, who believed to effect the sanctification of 
 the people and their equality with the priesthood by adding 
 burdensome usages; but they would have gradually died out, 
 for they did not possess the living energy able to preserve 
 Israel's holy treasure for centuries. When the Temple had 
 fallen, their gloomy sentiment, continually looking back to 
 ancient customs and institutions, tried to assert itself; they 
 announced: It is no longer permitted to eat meat or drink 
 wine, now that the Temple is fallen, because animals can no 
 longer be sacrificed in the sacred house, nor wine offered there 
 as a drink-offering. By such asceticism, those Pharisees of 
 the strict school would have caused the destruction of Judaism. 
 
In the Dispersion ld6 
 
 But the Hillelites were still alive — the men who had 
 inherited the spirit of Hillel, who rated conviction higher than 
 burdensome ceremonies, and consulted the times more than 
 the old ordinances. It was they who kept the remnants 
 together in close connection, did not permit the spirit to 
 vanish, although the material outward bond was broken. 
 That branch of Phariseeism as it had shaped itself out of the 
 very core of Judaism, breathed into it the living spirit that it 
 was able to enter upon its pilgrimage through the world at 
 large. 
 
 Israel now started upon his new pilgrimage, full of hardships 
 and sufferings. Thenceforth, heavy oppression was piled 
 upon him, almost down to the present time. The Romans 
 could not forgive him for having kept their military forces 
 busy for such a long time, for being obliged to put forth their 
 whole strength to break up that weak and small nation; and 
 the triumphal march of the victors had to be raised and made 
 more brilliant by the contumely and chains which were put 
 upon the vanquished. Thenceforward the Romans nursed a 
 deep hatred against the scattered remnants of the Jews, 
 against the dispersed individuals who gradually settled down 
 in all parts of the Roman Domain. And when the belief in 
 the fulfilled Messianic idea ascended the throne of the Caesars, 
 the heritance of that transmitted hatred was joined by another 
 factor — the weapon of humiliation was added, plunging into 
 the very vitals and making it a meritorious work to mortify 
 the spirits, to lacerate the hearts. Thus the poor pilgrim 
 made his progress through the wilderness of the Middle Ages. 
 
 Is it surprising that he turned his face towards the past, 
 which appeared to him so much the more brilliant the farther 
 it receded, that he expected all happiness and glory from its 
 re-establishment only, that he imagined the future as a copy 
 of all that had been dead and buried long ago? Do you marvel 
 that he journeyed along, panting and depressed, that he put 
 on a rough coat of mail in order to be protected against the 
 dagger and hostile touch from without; that he added hull 
 upon hull to keep his limbs from shaking with the cold, icy 
 breath that met him from every speech, from every word? 
 
166 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Is it surprising that he wore many a worthless amulet and 
 kept it in sight, to deck out his joyless life and, while in its 
 contemplation, to indulge in pleasant and cheerful dreams? 
 Only tottering huts were permitted him. He might expect 
 to be compelled to-morrow to tear down the hovel which he 
 put up to-day, or that it might be torn down by others. And 
 yet, wherever he found greater security, wherever a breath of 
 kindness met him, wherever the new phase of his sojourn gave 
 him an opportunity to till the mental field and sow spiritual 
 seed in quiet, that new abode soon became to him a new and 
 true home. 
 
 It is an affecting sight — but no! it is more than affecting; 
 History is not merely a sentimental comedy, not merely 
 material for tearful, romantic sentiment that it may thereby 
 for awhile feed its agony at the world's disappointment and 
 then give itself the more undisturbedly and indolently to 
 worldly pleasures. It is more than affecting, it is inspiring, 
 to behold how the Jews, wherever they were permitted to 
 settle down for a longer time, also became deeply rooted in 
 the spirit and character of the country, despite their love for 
 Palestine, despite their fervent attachment to their inherited 
 customs, notwithstanding they were full of the spirit that 
 went forth from Jerusalem, full of the law that proceeded from 
 Zion. Soon after the destruction of the Temple, they had 
 again settled in numerous congregations in Babylonia. There 
 the new Persian Empire, the empire of the Parthians, existed 
 — a mighty empire which alone knew how to meet the Empire 
 of Rome with an unconquerable resistance. We are not suf- 
 ficiently informed of the internal institutions of that empire, 
 of the mental and spiritual life that reigned there; at all events, 
 the very fact that it knew how to resist the all-coveting 
 superior power of Rome testifies to the independent energy 
 of the people. Numerous Jewish congregations existed there, 
 soon a mental and spiritual life began to bloom, and soon also 
 their love and attachment to their new country became firmly 
 founded. It is a significant declaration, handed down from 
 a teacher of that time — viz., the third century — a declaration 
 which truly expresses the sentiments of the Jewish population 
 
In the Dispersion 167 
 
 of that time and country, to wit: "He that emigrates from 
 Babylonia to Palestine violates God's command and commits 
 a sin." To that extent they felt themselves affiliated with 
 Babylonia, with New- Persia. Of course, that teacher founded 
 his decision on a verse of the Bible which he interpreted and 
 explained according to the manner of that time, but the verse 
 had not produced that sentiment, it is merely quoted as a 
 support for it; the sentiment arose out of their love for their 
 newly acquired country. Fully consonant with that declara- 
 tion is that of another teacher, who decides: "The law of 
 the land is religiously binding;" in former times, the law of 
 the land (political and civil laws) had been declared the 
 product of paganism, a work of ungodly, heathenish nature, 
 and as such, not entitled to existence or recognition; and it 
 was considered the worst stumbling-block. But now, in a 
 new country which, though it did not afford full liberty, yet 
 offered a firm and safe place of abode, its laws were regarded 
 as perfectly correct and valid. Babylonia was a new home 
 for the Jews; and its language, the Aramaic or Chaldean, 
 became almost a sacred language to them. The Aramaeans 
 had formerly been called idolators, and the name itself was 
 used as equivalent to idolator; the faith of ancient Aram had 
 been in hostile antagonism to Israel, but now the Jews lived 
 among them, enjoyed a favorable and secure position, and 
 thus became identified with the people in their civil policy 
 and language. Even to this day our prayers contain Aramaic 
 portions and they are regarded as sacred, though they are no 
 sounds of Zion. The Aramaic version of the bible is recog- 
 nized as the most authoritative, partly, perhaps, on account 
 of its faithful and close adherence to traditional views, but 
 chiefly because coming from a country which had become a 
 second home to the Jews. The language of Babylonia, the 
 Aramaic, held its own for a long time, even after Arabian 
 literature had begun to exert an influence upon Judaism, and 
 the Arabians had supplanted the remnants of an older culture 
 by their own. 
 
 When that young nation entered the world's history with 
 its young literature which for a time exerted its fertilizing 
 
16S Judaism and Its History 
 
 influence both upon the progress of mankind in general and 
 upon its higher development in particular; when Arabianism, 
 growing up fast, ruled a large portion of the human race, the 
 great number of Jews who lived in the Arabian-Islamitic 
 territories soon identified themselves with those countries and 
 considered themselves members of those nations. The 
 numerous Jewish congregations in Spain which was also soon 
 brought under the dominion and culture of the Moslems, 
 especially show a fine example of complete affiliation with the 
 inhabitants of the country; they revered the soil as their 
 home, fertilized it with the sweat of their face, drew from it by 
 their industry the most variegated fruits. Proudly they 
 called themselves *' Sephardinif'' exiled Jews who live in 
 Sepharad, maintaining that Sepharad in the bible meant 
 Spain. With noble pride, they regarded their Spain, glorified 
 it in poems, clung to it with all the fervor of their hearts. 
 The weary wanderer had found a new, beautiful abiding place 
 and looked no longer back toward the past, he loved the 
 present. After they were expelled from thence, their memory 
 yet turned, and in a measure is still turning towards Spain 
 and Portugal. — In other countries, too, wherever they had 
 found a place of abode for a longer time, the Jews affiliated 
 with the people in heart and spirit, loved its language, adopted 
 its manners and diffused them farther and maintained the 
 speech even when they were again driven away by the blind 
 fury of the inhabitants. The German language is heard from 
 the lips of Jews of the most distant countries, they have kept 
 it for centuries among themselves; they love the old sounds 
 that remind them of a home which, though irrigated with 
 their blood and never grown into a lasting, peaceable resting 
 place, yet for awhile had given them chance to breathe and 
 receive a certain amount of culture. The wanderer felt that 
 it was his task not to proceed on his pilgrimage through man- 
 kind merely with fleeting foot, but to establish lasting habita- 
 tions, in order to live with and among men and work for their 
 elevation. 
 
 He had guarded himself against intrusion by the world 
 without; he had to walk about panting, filled only, as it 
 
In the Dispersion 169 
 
 seemed, with the care of the day, his countenance furrowed 
 by wrinkles, his looks sad and careworn. But enter his frail 
 hut and you find there: — the rough coat of mail is laid aside, 
 the hulls are taken ofT, and a life of cordiality flows from his 
 heart. He is not chilling, though he be covered with bandages 
 and wraps ; he has no thorns, though it may seem so ; he carries 
 a warm heart in his breast though he be compelled to protect 
 himself against the icy breezes of the outside. Wherever he 
 finds genial warmth, he is also warm and genial, and in the 
 family, in the mutual affection and fidelity encircling the 
 individual members thereof, the comfort and fortitude of 
 Israel rested and persevered. He was excluded from the 
 outside world and he protected himself against its influences 
 and assaults as long as he had reason to fear hostile approaches ; 
 but whenever fresh mental and spiritual life awoke, whenever 
 a breath of spring, even if often but seemingly, passed through 
 the world, when new culture started, when the streams of 
 the spirit traversed the land with their fertilizing waters, there 
 he also knew to eagerly draw new life, there he also was in 
 close connection with the spirit of the age. 
 
 In general, his spirit was never bowed down, however 
 much depressed in his outward carriage. While in dark ages, 
 bishops and knights were given to praised and sanctified 
 ignorance and the art of reading and writing remained some- 
 thing foreign to them, that remnant of dispersed Jews retained 
 an aspiration to mental and spiritual development, often one- 
 sided and not always keeping pace with life as it was progress- 
 ing, but still it was a mental activity which preserved their 
 vitality. Canonization of ignorance never held sway in Israel ; 
 science took a crooked route now and then; their acuteness 
 went astray sometimes; their mind decked itself out with 
 worthless tinsel on occasions, but it was always active. 
 Gigantic works from darker and brighter times stand before 
 us, productions of thought and mental labor, that excite our 
 reverence. I do not endorse every word of the Talmud, nor 
 every idea of our teachers of the Middle Ages, but I would 
 not cast away a tittle of them. They contain an acumen 
 and power of thought which command respect of the spirit 
 
170 Judaism and Its History 
 
 that animated our ancestors, an abundance of sound sense 
 and salutary maxims — an originality of opinion often bursts 
 out which even to this day exerts a vivifying and inspiring 
 effect upon us. 
 
 A new people, hitherto untamed and wildly roaming about, 
 entered upon the stage of history, impelled by a lightninglike 
 idea to a new spiritual development; in Arabia, a new civiliza- 
 tion is in process of formation. At the cradle of that new 
 culture also, Judaism stood with its doctrines. Whatever 
 good elements Islam contains, whatever enduring idea appears 
 in it, it has taken over from Judaism. With the battle cry, 
 "There is no God but the one God in Unity!" the Arabian 
 galloped through the world on his fiery charger — ^but his 
 battle cry was not heard by him on Mount Sinai, he simply 
 took it over from those who were carrying it as their inher- 
 itance through the world. It is the only fruit-bearing and 
 world-conquering thought contained in Islam. Islam adorned 
 that thought and repeated it in many shallow and tautological 
 formulas. It was garnished, and that too, with Jewish views 
 and tales. And hardly a century after its birth, that new 
 religion had, in a most remarkable way, conquered not only 
 a large portion of the world but tamed the conquerors them- 
 selves, and awakened them to a new spiritual life. Those 
 nations which were then in their early youth, which had been 
 initiated, raw and uncivilized, into that new religion, soon 
 listened eagerly to the word that was delivered to them from 
 Antiquity by the remnants of Hellenism through the channel 
 of the Syrian pagans. The latter had translated the writings 
 of the ancient Greeks, of both the philosophers and the men 
 of other sciences, into their own idiom, and soon the Arabians 
 took possession of the remnants of Antiquity, accessible to 
 them in that way; they sat at the feet of the ancient Greek 
 teachers as industrious disciples of their doctrines in the form 
 transmitted to them, became civilized through the discipline 
 in the sciences and a new culture flourished, such as can not 
 be seen at any other period of the Middle Ages. The Jews 
 soon take part in it; they too, live right in the midst of it; 
 they are also philosophers and translators and feel the kinship 
 
In the Dispersion 171 
 
 of the aspirations awakened in the youthful nation. They 
 too, are translators of that new mental and spiritual upward 
 movement, and to a much wider extent. They were not 
 confined to the Arabians; they did not labor like the Arabians, 
 only within their own limits and their own soil; they carry 
 those Greek works everywhere, and scatter the seeds of the 
 new culture far and wide. From the Arabic they are trans- 
 lated into Hebrew, and from the Hebrew into the Latin and 
 the various languages of Europe; only through that channel, 
 the works came to be known to Medieval Europe, and they 
 were the only mental and spiritual seed sown during that 
 time of drought. Jews are often mocked at as business 
 brokers, as old-clothes men peddling cast-off clothes from 
 house to house; as a matter of fact they have carried the 
 cast-off garments of ancient culture into the habitations of 
 the nations of Europe ; and if these had not clothed themselves 
 with those remnants, they would have remained naked indeed. 
 But the Jews were not only transmitters and middlemen, 
 they exerted also great influence by original production. 
 Whatever knowledge there was during the Middle Ages of 
 botany, especially of the so-called officinal branch of botany, 
 was gotten through a translation of the work of Dioskorides, 
 made with the assistance and under the direction of a Jew, 
 the physician and vizier, Chasdai Ben Isaac Shaprut. The 
 more distinguished philosophers of the Arabian time, or at 
 least a large portion of them, were Jews. The name Avicebron 
 resounds through many writings of the Middle Ages as that 
 of one of the most original minds. He was a Jew, Solomon 
 Ben Gabirol, or Gebirol. His name Aben-Gebirol was 
 mutilated into Avengebrol, Avencebron. He was an original 
 thinker, and also a distinguished poet — a mind upon whose 
 creative power I should like to dwell longer. Moses Ben 
 Maimon, Maimonides, a pillar of the faith, a mind productive 
 in all departments of Jewish science, was also a thinker whose 
 works exerted a lasting influence, not only upon Judaism; he 
 became a teacher for all Europe. Albertus Magnus appro- 
 priated to himself the best thoughts, and Thomas Aquinas 
 has borrowed much from him. Who could count all the great 
 
172 Judaism and Its History 
 
 minds who lived within the Arabian territory, where they 
 developed their mental activity and issued the productions 
 of their poetic talent? What a glorious age! What testi- 
 mony it bears to the energy in Judaism, which can not be 
 broken, which develops itself in rich luxuriance, if only time 
 and space are granted to it. When in Italy there came a 
 revival of poetry, a sense of the beautiful rather than the 
 vigorous spirit of science, a Jewish poet appeared by the side 
 of Dante, intimate friends, Immanuel, a man full of fresh 
 humor; and we shall generally find that, despite all oppression, 
 the Jewish mind never became weak and weary. Mathe- 
 matics counts many votaries among the Jews; and in the 
 medieval books of that science we meet another strange 
 sounding name, "Savasorda," who is none other than Abraham 
 Ben Chiva, a Spanish Jew residing in the Provence. He had 
 the Arabian title Sahib al Shorta — i. e.. Chief of Police — given 
 to large landed proprietors, like lord, or prince, *'Nasi" as the 
 title is in Hebrew. 
 
 Times became brighter and everywhere we behold Jews 
 participating with lively interest in everything that quickens 
 the spirit. In a measure, the bible had to be again discovered 
 for Christendom. Who saved it, the Hebrew bible? Who 
 kept it for fifteen centuries, that it could again reappear in 
 its original form? Canonization of ignorance would have 
 condemned it long ago — it would have been lost if it had been 
 under that protection only ; we might perhaps find a few pieces 
 of it under an old Palimpsest, under a breviary of some monk, 
 and we should guess at it as at the Assyrian cuneiform in- 
 scriptions. It is owing to the care of the Jews that this part 
 of the mental and spiritual achievement of Antiquity has not 
 been lost — the product of Hebraism, of Revelation. The 
 Jews have saved it, they have carried it as their treasure 
 through the world, have explored its hidden spirit with nice 
 understanding and transferred their own aids for instruction 
 to the world. Proud Science, that imagines herself to-day 
 independent and able to explain the bible in her own way, 
 works with the very aids furnished her by the Jews — she 
 walks about on crutches borrowed from the Rabbis. As they 
 
In the Dispersion 173 
 
 had punctuated and accentuated it, and in places transformed 
 it, Science has taken it and works farther on. When the time 
 of the awakening of culture arrived, the staff of Judaism was 
 looked to as a supporting pillar. Reuchlin, the instructor of 
 Germany, took hold of the two pillars of the mental and 
 spiritual temple, Hellenism and Hebraism, and depended on 
 them, drawing on both for support. Holy ignorance laid 
 snares for him on that account, wanted to give his works over 
 to the ban ; her minions complained grievously because he was 
 not delivered into their hands. He held the transmitted 
 treasures of Judaism in great respect, perhaps some counter- 
 feit more than it deserved. The critical works of Jews of 
 that time, the works of Elias Levita, of Azariah de Rossi, are 
 of great importance. As the time progressed, the Jews 
 advanced with it. 
 
 In that land where a beautiful life had flourished for the 
 Jews for a long time, in the land which they loved with holy 
 fervor, blind fanaticism was mightier than science. The latter 
 had fertilized the land as long as the Arabians occupied it; 
 when they were crowded back, science also fled from before 
 the serpent tongue of religious fury. The flame of fanaticism 
 was fed by ignorance more and more; it consumed the best 
 energies of the land, and the Jews too, were compelled to give 
 way. It was not enough to oppress them, their very presence 
 was regarded as a profanation; they were forced to leave a 
 country in which they had dwelt with honor for a thousand 
 years, in the welfare and glory of which they had most 
 brilliantly co-operated. They were forced to emigrate. What- 
 ever they saved of mental and spiritual culture, they carried 
 along into Turkey, where, however, they were not able to 
 graft a higher culture on the barren tree of the Ottomans. 
 But also to another country which had been tributary to, and 
 had made itself independent of Spain, to Holland, they 
 carried, together with their love for their former Spanish 
 fatherland, the remnants of culture and refinement of the 
 time. Holland set the first example in Christendom of 
 announcing and proclaiming the principle of religious liberty 
 in its essentials, at least, if not fully; and Holland flourished 
 
174 Judaism and Its History 
 
 for a long time, in both material prosperity and mental and 
 spiritual superiority, and its Jewish inhabitants with it. 
 Right there in Holland a Jewish child was born who, though 
 he grew up a man of feeble body, became the pioneer of a 
 new mental and spiritual era, and soon became celebrated, 
 even to this day. Baruch Spinoza was a native of Amster- 
 dam ; he was the originator of a new line of* thought which 
 has since made its entrance into the thinking world and trans- 
 formed many ideas. He did not remain a close adherent of 
 the Jewish doctrine, yet he never severed his connection with 
 it ; he matured under the instruction of his old Jewish teachers ; 
 he had zealously studied Aben Esra and Maimonides, and 
 rose on the support of Judah Alfakar and Chisdai Kreskas. 
 He contended against the Jewish adherents of Aristotle, and 
 yet he had got his education in philosophy through them. 
 He also fought against the Cabbala, though he had received 
 many an impulse from it; its doctrine of emanation became 
 with him his doctrine of immanation. Baruch Spinoza laid 
 the foundation of a new philosophy which has become the 
 mother of many modern philosophies. He was a character 
 of granite, and accordingly his system is of granite construc- 
 tion. Others have chipped little stones from that structure 
 and fitted them into various conglomerate and thus created 
 new systems; yet they originate in his structure. Has he 
 found the truth? I can hardly assume it; but that he has 
 become an instructor of mankind, that he has freed it from 
 many errors and prejudices, has mightily stirred up the minds, 
 was the father of a new mental and spiritual life and the 
 creator of free biblical criticism, is an uncontrovertible fact. 
 The poor Jewish lens-grinder of Amsterdam has not passed 
 through the world without leaving fertile productions behind 
 him. Let us not proceed farther into later times — let us 
 forego the mention of many more recent brilliant names; 
 those times are yet too near to us and their contemplation 
 might be regarded as vainglorious self-admiration. 
 
 But now a new time is taking shape. We have not com- 
 pletely passed out from the Middle Ages, but their pillars 
 are crumbling ; what was their staff of support formerly, proves 
 
In the Dispersion 175 
 
 to be but a splinter to-day. As yet, no new mental and 
 spiritual idea with fertilizing influence appears on the horizon 
 of the world; as yet, no fresh breeze passes through the 
 withered leaves of mankind. But it is getting ready for the 
 New Age — sound science, live reason, honest inquiry shall 
 investigate everything and clear up everything. Before sound 
 science, that science which, despairing of itself and aware of 
 its weakmindedness, denies the existence of the spirit, shows 
 up with triumphant mien the apparatus of a skeleton and 
 thereby supposes to have given an explanation of man, will 
 retire with shame. With a sound science which respects the 
 spirit and has a presentiment of the Spirit of All, Judaism will 
 go hand in hand, because it has always been permeated and 
 quickened by such ideas. 
 
 How then are we prepared for that New Age? There are 
 many overeducated and sensual ones that would willingly 
 throw away all ancient treasures, bend their knees before the 
 powers that be, and divest themselves of their own character 
 and their past as something valueless; they are frail clay 
 vessels, unavailable as instruments for ushering in a spiritually 
 healthy time. There are also zealots among us, who, merely 
 looking back upon the ancient time, are in love with the shell 
 worn during the Middle Ages and will not lay aside the rough 
 coat of mail ; who want to use the dagger of suspicion and the 
 poison of calumny against every new aspiration ; they likewise 
 are unavailable as instruments for ushering in a new time. 
 Neither are Pharisees of the strict observance lacking; they 
 carefully wrap themselves up, cling devoutly to all that has 
 been handed down from former times; they are animated by 
 the ancient spirit, but without new, fresh, quickening energy. 
 But where is the new Hillel, with his mild, clear eye, with his 
 loving enthusiasm, with his sound mental and spiritual energy 
 to co-operate in the ushering in of the new time? Whenever 
 he shall appear — and surely he will not fail us — he will again 
 pronounce, perhaps in another form, his old maxim: "// / 
 do not for my self ^ who will do for me? Beloved pilgrim, do 
 not continually look backwards," he will say, "do not con- 
 tinually keep your eyes on the past. Jerusalem is a tomb; 
 
176 Judaism and Its History 
 
 you must draw from the living present and labor in it. If we 
 do not labor and produce from the innate spirit within us as 
 it is linked with the spirit of Revelation, who shall do it? 
 And if I do for myself alone, what am I then? If we do not 
 identify ourselves with mankind, we do not do our duty. 
 Beloved pilgrim, cast off your rough coat of mail, there is no 
 longer hostility abroad; undo the wrappings that hide and 
 disfigure you, frosty and icy winds no longer blow against 
 you — love will blossom everywhere — you have a warm heart, 
 and all mankind appreciates it; take them all in your embrace. 
 Lo! the wrap is not the spirit, and the rough coat of mail is 
 not the essence. And if not now, when then? If not now, 
 while the spirit of Judaism yet animates its members, if 
 nothing is done now, if no space is cleared whence the knowl- 
 edge of ancient times may fertilize the world and new seeds 
 be sown for the future; if indifference increases in Israel and 
 throws away the old treasures as worthless; if the understand- 
 ing of truly Jewish knowledge, the illumination of the idea of 
 Revelation, the draft from that eternal fountain is not 
 encouraged now — when then? Is it to be done only then 
 when everything shall be encoffined, when on the one side 
 there will be but dead bones, and on the other, only ashes?" 
 With such words the new Hillel will, when he puts in his 
 appearance, encourage the pilgrim to vigorous action, to 
 cheerful co-operation in the spiritual sowing; he will speak it 
 with tongue of fire, with that conquering enthusiasm which 
 bears down all caviling hesitancy. The time will come, 
 Judaism has not yet finished its mission. Judaism does not 
 consider the world's history closed up, neither eighteen cen- 
 turies ago, nor to-day; it moves along with mankind on its 
 conquering march of progress, and brightens it with mild 
 rays. 
 
Appendix 
 
Renan and Strauss. 
 
 A Glance at the Latest Works on the Life of Jesus. 
 
 About thirty years ago, Strauss accomplished the great 
 feat of writing a critical work on the life of Jesus, and showed 
 that the accounts of that time, as contradictory in themselves 
 and impossible as the records are in conflict with one another, 
 contained no actual history, but merely the legends which 
 were formed within the circle of the first Christian Congrega- 
 tion about the personality of Jesus, and that those same 
 legends were the result of the Messianic belief, were the 
 offspring of expectations connected with the coming Messiah 
 or with the events that were related in the bible, of the lives 
 of other men, either by direct statement or put into it by 
 interpretation. Thus it was very doubtful how much there 
 would be left of real history besides the fact of the existence 
 of the person. But Strauss had then just emerged from the 
 School of Hegel, which, in the habit of converting historical 
 facts into a dialectic process from within, in the habit of 
 regarding events of the past as preparatory steps to later 
 finished ideas, had long before viewed the facts of incipient 
 Christianity — without, however, denying their historical 
 character — as the hulls of higher ideas, and had asserted that 
 those formerly veiled ideas had been brought to light and made 
 perfectly clear in philosophy — the Hegelian philosophy, of 
 course. That School called its philosophy the Absolute. 
 Philosophy ; it represented Christianity, which it respected as 
 a ruling religious power, as the chrysalis of its philosophy, as 
 the popular, yet immature religious presentation, preceding 
 the complete, clear conception, and called the Absolute Reli- 
 gion. In that manner, the Hegelian School had persuaded 
 itself and others that it was not only in perfect accord with 
 the belief of the church, but raised it even to the dignity of 
 inviolable, philosophic certainty, it imprinted the stamp of 
 the highest mental and spiritual perfection. 
 
180 Appendix 
 
 Strauss, with his love of truth, and his clear, critical 
 acumen, destroyed that cobweb which the Hegelian had spun 
 around itself as a saint's garment; he shook the whole founda- 
 tion of the belief in the definite historical person, and on that, 
 the entire Christian faith is based. Yet he wanted to think 
 that in those representations which, though without being 
 actual facts, had been shaped into history, the philosophical 
 ideas of his School had found expression, even if immature, 
 and that therefore the essence of Christianity, now more 
 purely expressed in their philosophical ideas, was preserved.* 
 With that, he not only eased his mind, but he even believed 
 that the Church could and should be satisfied with what had 
 thus been saved. But it very soon became evident that the 
 Church was not at all satisfied with seeing the One Person 
 whom she adored as her highest ideal, nay, even as a super- 
 human being, yield his place to the whole human race that 
 continually develops, struggles, suffers, dies, rises again, 
 ascends to heaven in a transfigured state, etc. Although he 
 gallantly held his ground in the fight that was made against 
 him from all sides, yet he thought there was a possibility of 
 efi'ecting a reconciliation between the traditional faith of the 
 Church and the glorification of the individual. In his "Leaf 
 of Peace," published a little later, he announced: "The Idea 
 manifests itself in the fullness of its radiations only in the 
 whole community, yet it appears in especially gifted individ- 
 uals with such force that they seem unapproachable, that we 
 look up to them as the highest possible embodiment of the 
 Idea, and yield to them a Worship of Genius. If we behold 
 the art of poetry, of painting, manifested in the highest 
 possible perfection in certain persons who do not arise as the 
 crown of a long line of development, but rather as the first 
 ones with regard to time, and whom other, later ones try to 
 approach, just so, an individual may have been a genius of 
 religious sentiment as author of a religion worthy of adoration 
 or at least, emulation." 
 
 * It followed out of that view that he preferred to designate the 
 popular legends, as which he regarded the stories, rather as myths, because 
 the latter are held to be ideas couched in poetic forms. 
 
The Tuebingen School 181 
 
 With that, Strauss let the matter rest, and turned away 
 from the subject for a long time. Of course, such action on 
 his part did not set at rest the commotion that had been 
 stirred up. Some, seeing that the very center had been 
 unhesitatingly assailed, sought to defend the more obstinately 
 the fartherest outposts which had before been almost sur- 
 rendered; others thought they could, by way of compromise, 
 the more securely save that part which to them seemed to be 
 the more important one, if they would yield the apparently 
 less important and tenable branch. But soon results of 
 criticism were again brought forward, though from a different 
 starting point. A system came into existence which, though 
 also the offspring of the Hegelian School, investigated the 
 growth and development of the ideas within Christianity 
 rather with a view to the history of the dogmas of the church ; 
 it is the so-called *' Tuebingen School." In the course of the 
 researches made for that purpose by Baur, its author and 
 indefatigable leader, in conjunction with some gifted disciples, 
 they were compelled to investigate the events during the first 
 centuries of Christian history. Gradually they arrived at the 
 result, that the manifold dogmatic differences which dis- 
 turbed especially the first periods, could not be regarded as 
 an apostacy from convictions previously settled, but pre- 
 sented a process of fermentation out of which Christianity 
 only very gradually was shaped into its subsequent fixed form. 
 Christianity — such was the result of which they became more 
 and more convinced — is not a new spiritual system produced 
 by one man and arising suddenly, but it is the product of a 
 mental and spiritual commotion running through two cen- 
 turies, and it was made up by a number of various factors. 
 The person who, until then, had been adored as the creator 
 of full, complete, and finished Christianity, was divested of 
 that glory by the result of such researches; yet the honor of 
 having given the impulse to that commotion was left to him. 
 The investigators were also inclined, following the example 
 of Strauss, to admit that he should be regarded as an over- 
 whelming individuality on account of the ability to give such 
 a powerful impulse, even as a religious Genius who, in advance* 
 
182 Appendix 
 
 with the intuitive grasp of genius, had already completely 
 apprehended all that the process of development later got into 
 shape by laborious toil. Closely examined, the latter sup- 
 position especially is superfluous, even contradictory. To 
 what purpose should that have existed in advance in an 
 individual which the commotion of the minds produced out 
 of the bitter and severe fight with one another? But still 
 more! If the Master had indeed arrived at that high plane 
 which was attributed to complete and finished Christianity, 
 how was it possible that his immediate disciples who, in their 
 immediate intercourse with him, saw his actions, to whom he 
 gave uninterruptedly his personal instruction, who must have 
 known the convictions held by him down to his death, to 
 whom, as his chosen apostles he disclosed his innermost 
 thoughts and communicated his best aims — how was it 
 possible that they rendered his doctrine, conceived in an 
 entirely different shape from what it afterwards assumed and 
 was attempted to be ascribed to its author? But soon they 
 were led to this conclusion, that during the internal conflict 
 in the first centuries, the Apostles proper had not been the 
 standard-bearers of the doctrine which worked its way to 
 victory, but that theirs was gradually compelled to give way 
 to a later tendency, as the representative of which especially 
 Paul, the Apostle to the heathens, came into view. And thus 
 the person of Paul made its way as the carrier of the pro- 
 gressive movement of the ideas more and more to the fore- 
 ground, and the first author receded in proportion. That was 
 not announced very emphatically by that School — they were 
 satisfied with a so-called Ideal Christ; i. e., with the Idea of a 
 finished Christianity. How much was left of a Historical 
 Christ J they left undecided. 
 
 The clearer knowledge of that conflict of the ideas in the 
 first Christian time brightened the view for critical investiga- 
 tion of the Gospels and the other earliest writings of Chris- 
 tianity; it even forced a more searching criticism of them. 
 Those oldest monuments of Christianity in its formation period 
 must be likewise speaking witnesses of that conflict which 
 excited the minds so mightily, they must show in sharp lines 
 
Renan and Strauss 183 
 
 the questions of those times, even the number of the records 
 — namely, that four gospels have been handed down — and 
 the diversity existing between their composers can have 
 proceeded only from more or less conscious intent of carrying 
 the shades of their own religious opinions into the efforts of 
 the author of the faith. That knowledge has greatly pro- 
 moted criticism of the Gospels and insight into the inner 
 process of the development of Christianity; but at the same 
 time it has brought still greater uncertainty upon what the 
 author did, intended, and taught. If the records are legendary 
 and mythical, as Strauss asserted, in that they had intended 
 to see all former expectations fulfilled in the author and thus 
 unhistorically ascribed to him their actual fulfilment, another 
 difficulty was added, to wit, that their own later and more 
 recently formed shape was also dressed up as act and doctrine 
 of Jesus, and thus obscured his character still more. Accord- 
 ingly, the Tuebingen School has thus far not attempted to 
 draw a full picture of the Author of Christianity; it lacked all 
 material for it, because the Past and the Future had worked 
 on it to such an extent that the living character then present 
 had become completely indiscernible. Besides, he had been 
 reduced to a single factor in the great sum of Christianity; to 
 know that in its entirety, in the demonstrable phases of its 
 development, was of more importance than to trace the single, 
 less seizable factor. 
 
 When now all at once, and that from the point of view of 
 that School, two new works appear, which treat exclusively 
 of "The Life of Jesus," it is really a retrogressive step. Of 
 course, less so in the case of the French author. That 
 process of thought had not yet been independently worked 
 out in France. The first " Life of Jesus" by Strauss had been 
 translated into French, the literary works of the Tuebingen 
 School had been known, considered, and discussed within a 
 certain circle of French theologians, but independent research 
 and elaboration had not been attained. Mr. Renan, there- 
 fore, was fully justified in commencing again, for France, with 
 the life of Jesus. And yet, he has not stopped there. He 
 does not desire that his book should be regarded as a whole 
 
184 Appendix 
 
 work completed ; he publishes it as a first volume of a larger 
 work calculated to treat upon the development of Chris- 
 tianity during the first three centuries, as the beginning of a 
 full and elaborate disquisition. The German author stands 
 worse in this respect. He regards his task fully accomplished 
 by his book, he means to present "The Life of Jesus" exclu- 
 sively, and that too, after having performed this task, thirty 
 years ago, as far as it can be performed from his standpoint 
 — namely, as a critical opinion upon the records on that 
 subject — a task which may be executed now more correctly 
 and in better shape in consequence of the new views gained, 
 but can hardly turn out a new work intended for the general 
 public. While now the second part of the new work is merely 
 a recast of his former critical analysis with omission of a large 
 portion of learned matter, Strauss means, after all, to give in 
 the first part a positive presentation of the actual historical 
 facts regarding Jesus — ^just like Renan, who, however, blends 
 both points. And right there, the evil result of a mode of 
 proceeding unjustifiable by science appears, and again much 
 more so in the work of Strauss than in that of Renan. For 
 while we must accord the palm of superiority to the German 
 author as far as labor of criticism is concerned, it must be 
 admitted that his historical presentation — even aside from the 
 historical art which, with Renan, is working more in a more 
 poetic, divinatory manner than in elaborating the material on 
 hand — is far more untenable, much less permeated by a 
 historic spirit than that of the French scholar. The latter 
 has this advantage, that he intermingles criticism with his 
 narrative, that he introduces many more portions of the 
 records — often in a very uncritical and arbitrary manner — as 
 genuine history and has thus far more material left him. 
 Finally he sees in Jesus a man wrestling and struggling within 
 himself, soaring and falling back until death relieves him at 
 the right time, before he might turn faithless to his mission. 
 In contrast to that, Strauss at first presents us a history, and 
 only afterwards proves the unreliability of the records, so that 
 when we have come to the close of his book, we look about 
 with uncertainty for the remainder, of which the actual 
 
Renan and Strauss 185 
 
 history must once have consisted; of a growth, of a develop- 
 ment within the person of Jesus, which is the real object of 
 biography, we learn nothing at all, for he presents his man 
 finished and complete from the start. 
 
 But how does this man appear in both works? There is 
 the rock against which the feeble bark of either was wrecked 
 as soon as it ventured to pass from the waters of historical 
 criticism into those of biography. Every attempt at biogra- 
 phy is attended with danger. As soon as an individual is 
 taken up as a fixed point in the moving fluid stream of history, 
 he has been given a higher importance, and the temptation 
 grows stronger and stronger to justify in the presentation, 
 why such importance is given him ; compelled to group around 
 him the facts connected with him, the writer easily falls into 
 the mistake of deducing them from him, and thus he becomes 
 the center and representative of the history of which he was 
 but a single part by the side of many others. The interest 
 which an earnest author takes in the subject of his treatise, 
 passes over to the appreciation of the person; he is led astray 
 into overrating him, in emphasizing, more than unbiased 
 judgment could permit, his bright sides, into paling the dark 
 spots, in excusing the foibles; in short, the biographer easily 
 turns into the advocate, into the eulogist. Such being the 
 danger attending every biographical work, how much greater 
 must it be when its subject is a person who is closely connected 
 with one of the grandest events in the world's history, who has 
 hitherto been regarded not merely as one of its impelling 
 or co-operating factors, but as its complete and sole creator. 
 However critically unbiased the writer may be, as soon as he 
 disengages such an agent from all other factors, he slips into 
 ascribing to him more than he would in a work comprising a 
 history of all co-operating causes — he would not like to go too 
 far out of the beaten track, he would not want to make the 
 transition from the customary conception to his own, too 
 steeply precipitous. And when criticism proves that very 
 little of all that the ancient records contain can be relied 
 upon, then the writer is left to himself, to his own combina- 
 tion, to the picture moving before his imagination, and in that 
 
186 Appendix 
 
 light he will represent his hero. But critical truth suffers 
 shipwreck thereby. 
 
 And such has been the case with both authors, with each 
 in his own way. In the work of Renan, Jesus appears as a 
 visionary hypocrite, greatly vascillating: now as a pronounced 
 national Jew, and then again as a cosmopolitan; now as 
 initiated by John the Baptist into ascetics, then rising above 
 all outward forms; now as overcoming all obstacles by the 
 most amiable meekness and then again in great wrath at the 
 lack of results of his labors and losing heart, and withal, devoid 
 of all means and efforts towards higher culture of mind and 
 spirit; — and towards the end, after we are shown some very 
 suspicious preparations for deceptive miracles, some very low 
 morality which our author defends with oratorical pathos and 
 and even praises, because he thinks it to belong to a creative, 
 idealistic time which should not be measured by our own short 
 standard, we finally come to a glorification of Jesus who is to 
 be the pattern of highest religious and moral perfection for all 
 times, an ideal which has as yet not been sufficiently under- 
 stood and much less reached. Though he should not be 
 worshiped as a God, yet he must be looked up to as an Ideal 
 of Mankind, as a "Demigod." Thus the epos closes in a 
 dignified manner with a surprising flash. But when we shut 
 the book, calmly weigh its contents in our mind and render 
 its poetry into sober prose, we find the hero has been dissolved 
 into vapor during the course of that chemical process of 
 thought. The demands made upon us by the historian prove 
 to be wholly illegitimate. 
 
 Nor do we fare better with Strauss. He saves us from all 
 flight of the imagination, from all suspense and tension that 
 might be caused by contemplation of a wrestling mind ; in his 
 presentation, Jesus appears from the very beginning in 
 unchangeable, unapproachable tranquility, in lofty dignity. 
 Even in the preface (p. xviii.) he is announced as "the indi- 
 vidual in whom the deeper consciousness of man's inner nature 
 first appeared as an all-pervading force, determining his entire 
 life and being," and again at the conclusion of the book (p. 
 625), we are assured that "among the promoters of the ideal 
 
Renan and Strauss on Jesus 187 
 
 of humanity, Jesus stands at all events in the front rank. 
 He introduced features into it which were wanting in it before, 
 or had remained undeveloped; he reduced others which 
 prevented its universal application; he imparted to it by the 
 religious aspect he gave to it a more lofty consecration and 
 bestowed upon it the most vital warmth by its embodiment 
 in his own person, while the Religious Society which took its 
 start from him, provided for this ideal the widest acceptance 
 among mankind." But when we ask for the facts underlying 
 that picture, we are refused an answer by Strauss regarding 
 actual facts, because he does not recognize the reported actions 
 as historical and true; and if those reported acts were recog- 
 nized as actual facts, they would in a great measure contradict 
 his views and could find their explanation only in a relapse 
 by the immediately succeeding age, which we shall consider 
 farther on. Now then, actual facts do not furnish the basis 
 for such a description of the character of Jesus ; but instructions 
 and maxims do. But many of those have to be deducted from 
 the sum of that character, because they originated at a later 
 time. Others are decided to be genuine and thus ought to 
 afford the best testimony for that lofty individuality. Strauss 
 selects (p. 253) some of "that rich collection of sentences or 
 maxims as they are found in the gospels, of those pregnant 
 sayings which, even independent of their religious value, are 
 so inestimable for the clear penetration, the unerring sense 
 of right expressed in them.'* 
 
 Let us consider these pregnant sayings which by themselves 
 alone are to furnish the justification for the claim to that 
 proud unapproachable character. "Give unto Caesar that 
 which is Caesar's, and unto God that which is God's." If 
 that saying is taken in that sense which a later application 
 attributed to it, namely, that the domains of the religious 
 and civil bonds of Church and State, should be separated, 
 and that each should be recognized on its own soil and accord- 
 ing to its title, then we rejoice at the tangible expression in 
 which the idea is given. But right there, another opinion of 
 Strauss gives us pause and doubt. Considering his admission 
 (p. 626) that "in the pattern exhibited by Jesus in his instruc- 
 
188 Appendix 
 
 tion and life, some sides being shaped and worked out to 
 perfection, while other sides were but faintly sketched or not 
 indicated at all," and that in elaborating that idea, he con- 
 tinues, "his relation to the body politic appears simply 
 passive," we soon conclude that in the first part of the cited 
 saying the sensible idea of the rights of the State can not be 
 contained, that Jesus did not recognize the State, but merely 
 tolerated it. But that the meaning of that saying is altogether 
 different from that put into it, after it was elevated into a 
 maxim under changed conditions and altered views, is proven 
 by its shape and the occasion that called it forth. According 
 to the meaning now generally adopted, it should demand that 
 to Caesar should be given what is due him, but not "that 
 which is Caesar's" already, that which already fully belongs 
 to him — for that is self-understood as a matter of course. 
 But Jesus employed the saying for a reply to the question of 
 the Pharisees, whether they should pay tribute to the emperor, 
 to Rome, and only after he had made them show him a coin 
 which bore the emperor's picture. The Pharisees, being the 
 party of compromise, did not refuse to pay tribute; with all 
 their attachment to their faith and country, hence with all 
 their readiness to give unto God all that they could dispose 
 of as a gift to God, it was their principle not to rebel reck- 
 lessly against the authority of the Emperor, but rather to 
 give to him that which under existing conditions he could 
 justly claim. But the Kannainiy the Zealots, rejected such 
 pliant weakness, condemned the payment of tribute or taxes 
 to Rome as an apostacy from faith and country. The 
 Pharisees and Herodians — as they are called in Matthew and 
 Mark, i. e., the Boethusians, the priestly families and their 
 adherents — ^who regarded the announcement by Jesus that he 
 was the Messiah both as a religious presumption and as an 
 implied dangerous political agitation, very naturally supposed 
 that he would, like the Zealots, repudiate the payment of 
 tribute to Rome; and that would have afforded them a cause 
 for delivering him as a rebel over to the Roman authorities 
 for punishment. Jesus cunningly foiled the attempt, without 
 turning from his principles. The coin bearing the image and 
 
Sayings of Jesus 189 
 
 inscription of the Emperor showed that everything still moved 
 within the condition of this world which, after all, "was" 
 Rome's, *'was'' Caesar's — not "ought to be his" — the reply 
 meant, give unto him that which he has already, until the 
 world-to-come appears, when all things will be God's, and you 
 will then pay all tribute to Him. Judging from his point of 
 view, the reply may have been appropriate, even wise, but 
 it can not claim authority for all times, it reveals no insight 
 into the nature of the State, hence "peculiar, clear penetra- 
 tion, the unerring sense of right" is not expressed in it. 
 
 As a second example, the author quotes the saying, *'No 
 man putteth a new patch unto an old garment; neither do 
 men put new wine into old bottles." What the sentence is 
 intended to express is well known; but I have great doubts 
 about its fitness and the general application. About a new 
 patch upon an old garment, the figure is extremely puzzling. 
 An old patch is undoubtedly less suitable for an old, torn 
 garment than a new patch ; for if a garment be still usable and 
 have but a rent, one will certainly take a new patch for 
 mending the damage and preserving the whole garment for 
 some time yet. If, therefore, Matthew (ix. 16) and Mark 
 (ii. 21) add: "for that which is put in to fill up, taketh from 
 the garment and the rent is made worse," they commit, as 
 far as I understand such matters, a direct error. Luke seems 
 to have felt that, for he changes the metaphor somewhat by 
 quoting the saying (v. 36) in this manner: " No man putteth 
 a piece of a new garment upon an old ; if otherwise, then both 
 the new maketh a rent, and the piece that was then taken 
 out of the new, agreeth not with the old." But by that turn, 
 the truth to be embodied by the parable is entirely changed, 
 and it evidently does not correspond to its original object. 
 According to Matthew and Mark, Jesus, following up the 
 observation that the disciples of the Baptist and the Pharisees, 
 but not his, might fast, means to say, that it is of no avail to 
 patch an old, torn system of religious views with a few new 
 ideas; that it must be formed anew from its very foundation 
 — that meaning fits the saying, but it can not be applied to a 
 garment. Now, while Luke intends to improve the parable, 
 
190 Appendix 
 
 he destroys the meaning intended to be conveyed by it. For 
 according to him, the system of new views must have been 
 completely established and carried into practice, to have a 
 piece taken from it and tear it, while the new patch would 
 not agree \^ith the old. That does not correspond to the idea 
 intended to be conveyed. At all events, the older form of 
 the saying is such as is found in Matthew and Mark, and as 
 Strauss has transcribed it from them; but in that form, the 
 metaphor, being little to the point, seems to have roused 
 already the suspicion of Luke. The same can be said of the 
 second part. That new wine, being in process of fermenta- 
 tion, may easily break the bottles, is correct; but that old 
 bottles, if they are at all fit for preserving liquids, are more 
 liable to burst than new ones, I am inclined to doubt. Even 
 the new ones are more apt to burst, on account of their untried 
 tension, as expressed also by the author of Job (xxxii. 19), to 
 which verse only forced interpretation could attribute the 
 meaning from the passage in the Gospels. Thus then, the 
 form of the saying with its simile is badly selected. But is 
 the idea to be conveyed by it, to be adopted without any 
 limitation? The saying, if accepted as of general application, 
 is in conflict with all historical development, the law of which 
 consists even in gradual transformation, in the interpenetra- 
 tion of the old elements by the new ones. It has an intelligent 
 meaning only — and that, too, in a Paulinian sense — for the 
 commotion of that time which was opposed to Judaizing 
 Christianity, as being a mingling of ancient custom with the 
 new Messianism. Now if it alludes to that condition — and 
 in this sense it is still farther elaborated by Luke, who had 
 the new system completely finished before him — it can not 
 be ascribed to Jesus at all but belongs to the later time when 
 the internal struggle was well under way. And in fact, the 
 saying is very loosely, even contradictorily attached to the 
 preceding reply. If the disciples of Jesus, as is stated in the 
 preceding passages under consideration, do not then fast, 
 because the bridegroom is with them, but would make up 
 for it after the latter shall have been taken from them, the 
 saying does not at all contend against ancient custom, but 
 
The Development 191 
 
 designates it as untimely only for the moment, again to 
 become appropriate at a future period. But the added 
 phrases occupy a different standpoint, that of a later period, 
 which insists on having abolished all ancient custom for all 
 time to come. 
 
 Both the expression and the idea of the saying, *'If thy 
 hand or thy foot offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee," 
 are of very doubtful value. The other, "Take first the beam 
 out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast 
 out the mote out of thy brother's eye,'* was, as is evident 
 from the Talmud, an adage in general use at the time. The 
 other two sentences, *'They that be whole need not a physi- 
 cian, but they that are sick," and *'Not seven times shalt 
 thou forgive thy brother who offends thee, but seventy times 
 seven," are of very ordinary kind. If Strauss adds with 
 emphasis, "These are imperishable words; for in them, truths 
 that are every day getting fresh corroboration are enclosed 
 in a form that exactly suits them and is at the same time 
 universally intelligible," the otherwise unbiased thinker can 
 have been blinded only by the frequent application that has 
 been made of them during the course of centuries, and this 
 too, with a partial sublimation of their original meaning. In 
 comparison with the great treasure of pithy sentences and 
 proverbs, the single pearls of which are scattered about in the 
 Talmudic literature, one is tempted to say, with the lavish 
 carelessness of a millionaire, the sentences quoted deserve 
 very small consideration. 
 
 But Strauss is determined, at all hazards, to see in the 
 subject of his book, the embodiment of the human ideal, even 
 if he should be forced to assume that history had taken a 
 retrogressive in place of an advance movement. When we 
 read expressions such as (p. 140), "Luke and Mark un- 
 doubtedly did right when they omitted from the instruc- 
 tions to the twelve, the command not to turn to the Gentiles 
 and Samaritans, as that prohibition in the account of the first 
 gospel had probably got into it only from the ideas of rigid 
 Judaizing Christians," when we read soon thereafter, "If we 
 accept , . . that the first disciples of Jesus did not fully 
 
192 Appendix 
 
 comprehend him, that the standpoint of the first congrega- 
 tion remained behind his own, and that our oldest Evangelists, 
 especially Matthew, were also on the standpoint of the oldest 
 congregation . . . and if we put up the saying in 
 Matthew, about the indestructibility of even the smallest 
 letter of the Law, and that in John about the worship of God 
 in spirit and in truth, as the two most extreme points, it is 
 very doubtful to which of those two points we are to think 
 the historical Jesus to have been the nearest"; or when he 
 says (p. 318) of "the phantastic mood of the most ancient 
 congregations, that it had been in many respects a simultane- 
 ous relapse into the views of Jewish times"; or when (p. 616), 
 the fact that Mark "names as the signs which are to charac- 
 terize believers, the power to cast out devils, to speak with 
 new tongues, to lift up snakes, to drink deadly poison without 
 harm, to heal the sick by laying on of hands" is to show "at 
 how early a period in the Church, a superstitious feeling 
 directed only to signs and wonders began to smother the 
 genuine spirit of Jesus" — when we read those and similar 
 expressions, we no longer recognize in them an unbiased 
 historical mind and spirit, but the violent assertions of the 
 Apologist. 
 
 Many of the passages quoted above, show that Strauss 
 approaches those assertions with rather unsteady and hesi- 
 tating step, yet he rushed unhesitatingly into them in other 
 places. His critical conscience must necessarily have troubled 
 him then. For such assumptions rob all settled historical 
 results accomplished by modern research, of their true value. 
 If it is true that Christianity was evolved only from the 
 struggle between an older tendency and the later Paulinian 
 view, it is impossible that the later, more finished form had 
 been already known, and had been taught in its complete 
 state, and even in a higher form, by the original starter. It 
 is impossible that all his immediate disciples and all the 
 churches established by them, should not only completely 
 have misunderstood the intentions of their Master, should 
 have totally renounced his doctrines, but that they even con- 
 tended against his views and purposes with the most deter- 
 
The Development 193 
 
 mined and violent opposition, as soon as they were presented 
 to them in mere tentative form by Paul, who had not known 
 Jesus, nor even heard anything from him directly, and that 
 those views gained the ascendency only by the pressure of 
 events. And even Paul is made out to have only approached 
 them ; for the author is represented as having possessed a far 
 loftier conception than that which Paul deduced by scholastic 
 dialectics, and thus his real spirit has remained unknown to 
 this day. Whenever a writer enunciates new views, they may 
 be ignored for a time or be bent to the prevailing opinions 
 and perceived more clearly by a later generation only. But 
 when a teacher — who in personal intercourse and by oral 
 instruction unhesitatingly and with the greatest emphasis, 
 pronounces his convictions which are diametrically opposed 
 to the prevailing views and "in a form that exactly fits them 
 and is at the same time universally intelligible'' — gives his 
 ideas the most definite expression in all his actions, accepts 
 the contest with the ruling powers for them, and dies for 
 them, can he have been so totally misunderstood by the men 
 who were unceasingly with him, who were prepared by him 
 as his missionaries and devoted themselves to that mission 
 with the greatest self-sacrifice, and also by the crowds and 
 congregations that gathered around those men — can he by 
 all of them, and how-ever weak their mental powers may have 
 been, have been so totally misunderstood that they repudiated 
 all his doctrines without exception while other points which 
 be peremptorily rejected or, at least, did not emphasize and, 
 at best, only tolerated, were made by them the core and 
 center of the new system? It is claimed that Jesus breaks 
 down the national barriers between Jews and non-Jews; his 
 disciples adhere to them with determination, call "Heathens 
 and Samaritans'* outcasts, contend against the adherents of 
 Paul who accepts such, as apostates, as " Balaamites. " It 
 is claimed that Jesus abolishes the validity of the Jewish law 
 and ceremonies; his disciples emphatically enforce them, 
 assert their everlasting validity, say that "it is easier for 
 heaven and earth to pass away than one tittle of the law to 
 fail," are indignant at the later attempted assault upon those 
 
194 Appendix 
 
 institutions. It is claimed that Jesus repudiates signs and 
 wonders; his adherents cite them again and again, and on 
 that point the greatest unanimity has existed to this day. 
 On the other hand, there is the conviction, which comprises 
 everything immediately succeeding Jesus and held by all as 
 an unshaken faith, namely: that Jesus was the Messiah, 
 commissioned as such to bring about a new epoch for the 
 world, and that he, though he died, had soon risen again and 
 would return with the greatest power in a short time, in order 
 to establish the new epoch with a general, rigorous judgment 
 of the whole world. What is the relation of the new apolo- 
 getic, or the relation of Jesus as represented by it, to that 
 faith? Strauss devotes a separate chapter (C. 39) to that 
 subject, and we must here transcribe his own words, omitting 
 only unessential parts. He says (p. 236, etc.): 
 
 ** Jesus speaks in the Gospels ... of the coming of 
 the Son of Man; i. e., of his own Messianic second coming 
 at a later, though not distant period when he will appear in 
 the clouds of heaven, in divine glory and accompanied by 
 angels, to wake the dead, to judge the quick and the dead, 
 and to begin his kingdom, the kingdom of God, or of Heaven. 
 
 . . . To this part of the doctrine of Jesus in the most 
 literal conception, the older Church held fast; it is even built 
 on that foundation because without the expectation of the 
 early return of Christ, no Christian Church could have been 
 established at all. ... To a human being, no such thing 
 as he here prophesied of himself could happen. If he did 
 prophesy it of himself, and expected it himself, he is for us 
 nothing but an enthusiast; as he would be a braggart and an 
 impostor if he had said it of himself without any faith in it 
 on his own part. . . We find the speeches of Jesus about his 
 second coming in all four gospels; we certainly find them in 
 the first three, which we a-cknowledge as the repository of 
 much genuine historical tradition, at greater length and more 
 definite than in the fourth. What then, is here to be done? 
 
 . . . Shall we make him bear the burden of all those 
 speeches in the full literal meaning of the words and therefore 
 be compelled to confess that he was an enthusiast, and not 
 
The Second Coming of the Messiah 195 
 
 of a small degree at that? . . . With our Christian habits 
 of thought, it might be a very bitter pill for us; but if it 
 turned out to be a historical result, our habits of thought 
 would have to give way. Nor can it be said that an enthusiast 
 could not have had the sound, lofty views, the historic effects 
 that proceeded from him. . . . It is no unusual phenom- 
 enon to see high mental and spiritual gifts and excellency of 
 sentiment tempered with a dose of exaggerated enthusiasm. 
 
 . . . That Jesus, according to the Evangelical accounts, 
 should have considered his second advent so near that he 
 said to his disciples that there were some among those stand- 
 ing around him who should not taste of death until they had 
 seen the Son of Man coming in his kingdom . . . that 
 therefore he should have made a great mistake with reference 
 to the time ... all that, on our standpoint, does not 
 make the case even worse. ... So much the less can 
 we feel ourselves tempted to one of the violent interpretations 
 of the words which the theologians, in genuine rivalry, have 
 here undertaken. . Also by the coming of Jesus himself 
 
 . . . we can not, if his words are faithfully reported to 
 us, understand an invisible and gradual development, i. e., 
 the natural development of the effects of his action upon 
 earth, but only a visible and sudden, a miraculous catastrophe. 
 
 . . . . What Jesus says in the principal passage of 
 Matthew (xxiv. 30, etc., xxv. 31, etc.). . . . such a de- 
 scription resists every attempt to give it a merely symbolical 
 meaning .... of course, it is but too plain that the 
 speeches referring to this point have undergone all sorts of 
 later modifications. . . . All that, however, . . . 
 does not touch the point itself with which we are here con- 
 cerned. . . . Jesus promised to return into his kingdom; 
 and now the question is, how he spoke on other occasions of 
 his kingdom, especially whether he represented it as one 
 which he had founded already during his human existence, 
 or one which he would initiate only at a future return. • 
 
 . . That Jesus distinguished the present as preparation, 
 from a future as perfection, this life as a period of earning 
 [?J from a life to come as recompense, and connected with 
 
166 Appendix 
 
 the beginning of that perfection a miraculous change of the 
 world to be brought about by God, appears not only in the 
 gospels in the most decided manner, if any historical validity 
 is left to them, but must also be assumed from the bare 
 historical analogies. . . . But if Jesus had once held to 
 that conviction, as of course he must have done, if he dis- 
 tinguished between this present earthly existence and a future 
 one in the kingdom of God, whether in heaven or on the 
 renovated earth, and if he conceived the beginning of the latter 
 as a miraculous act of God, then it is indifferent in what 
 nearer or more distant period he placed that act, and it would 
 be nothing more than a human error if he expected it after 
 the shortest possible delay and announced the expectation for 
 the consolation of his followers; although we can not know 
 whether his followers, in the troubles and distress after his 
 passing away, may not have comforted themselves by ascrib- 
 ing to him such prophecies of a near approach of the better 
 constitution of the world. In all those speeches, there is but 
 one point that creates a difficulty for us, and that is, that Jesus 
 is said to have connected with his own person that miraculous 
 change, the beginning of that ideal state of recompense, that 
 he is said to have designated himself as the one who will come 
 with the clouds of heaven, accompanied by angels, to awaken 
 the dead and hold judgment. The expectation of such a 
 thing of himself is something quite different from a mere 
 general expectation of it, and he that expects it of himself 
 and for himself, will not appear to us as only a fanatical 
 enthusiast, but we see also an impermissible self-exaltation in 
 it, if a human being . . . comes to think of selecting 
 himself to such an extent from all the rest as to put himself 
 up as their future judge. ... Of course, if Jesus was 
 convinced that he was the Messiah, and referred the prophecy 
 in Daniel to the Messiah, he must also have expected in 
 accordance with it, sometime or other, to come with the 
 clouds of heaven." 
 
 With that last "of course," closes that rather uncertain 
 groping for a verdict for or against the matter. But with what 
 impression does an unprejudiced reader take leave of that 
 
Ignorance about Judaism 197 
 
 disquisition? If he is really unprejudiced, he will, I think, 
 throw down that apologetic, even in its new dress, as worth- 
 less, and will accept as firmly established historical fact only 
 this: Jesus told about himself that he was the Messiah, and 
 that, in accordance with that, the expected new period of the 
 world would begin with his appearance. He found believers, 
 and after he was executed, the belief in him still continued, 
 the beginning of the new period of the world was expected 
 from day to day with his early return — he was looked upon 
 as naving already arisen from the dead. He himself may 
 have expected that the miraculous beginning of the new 
 period of the world would happen, without his death occurring 
 before; with his death, that expectation changed, as stated. 
 
 And that, indeed, is all that we are able historically to 
 establish concerning him; and it is sufficient, too, for an 
 explanation, not only of his appearance, but also for all 
 consequences that followed it. That historical fact must not 
 be garbled, must not be weakened, nor must other things not 
 belonging to it be added, lest new confusion be caused. Thus 
 it puts the matter out of the proper perspective if it is at- 
 tempted to attribute to him the belief in his being the Son of 
 God in the eminent sense of the term, or in the Messiah 
 being the Logos; and above all, it is pure delusion to attribute 
 to him the character of a universal God-Man as taught by 
 the Hegelian School. The idea that he stepped beyond 
 national and legal Judaism must also be totally rejected, and 
 solely ascribed to later development. Nor can the nobler 
 religious and moral conceptions and doctrines which are 
 put in his mouth and heart — though we should attribute them 
 to him and acknowledge their excellence with necessary 
 limitations — be regarded as his own in the sense that he was 
 their author and was the first who entertained and proclaimed 
 them, but at the utmost that he adopted them and appro- 
 priated them as he found them already made by others. 
 
 And here we have arrived at the point which to us is the 
 starting point, but which has not yet risen into the horizon 
 of Christian science, however necessary for a proper under- 
 standing. It not only lacks the knowledge, but also — 
 
198 Appendix 
 
 however heavy the charge may sound, all experience leads to 
 prove its accuracy — the uncovetous acknowledgment of the 
 property of others. And in this respect also, each one of our 
 authors occupies his own peculiar position, although they 
 meet in the same error ultimately. Mr. Renan makes a 
 running start toward justice, does not avoid the means neces- 
 sary to a clearer understanding in order — as he is pleased to 
 assume the same of his ideal pattern — to have a serious 
 relapse. Mr. Strauss has made up his mind at the very start; 
 on this point he fully occupies the grounds of the ancient 
 apologetics, repeats the old faded and exploded ideas con- 
 cerning the Judaism of that time, knows nothing of recent 
 investigations, and though he may not be charged with 
 intentionally ignoring them, we can not but blame him for 
 having neglected the requisite care and labor to inform him- 
 self of them. 
 
 Everyone who contemplates the origin of Christianity with 
 a historical eye must come to the conclusion that he has to 
 estimate and consider the three co-operating factors, viz.: 
 Palestinian Judaism of that time, Hellenistic Judaism, and 
 Roman-Grecian culture. It appears perfectly natural to us 
 that former writers who, from the start ranged themselves 
 with one side, looked at those factors through the spectacles 
 of their party and presented them accordingly. With all of 
 those, Palestinian Judaism fared badly. Some painted it in 
 very black colors in order to let the picture of rising Chris- 
 tianity stand out in more dazzling brilliancy. Others, who 
 admitted that Christianity had some blemishes, ascribed them 
 to Judaism of that time; whatever in Christianity did not 
 please them was called Jewish prejudice which had not been 
 quite overcome at the first start but had to yield gradually 
 as Christianity gained strength — or must yet yield. Of men 
 who mean to consider and present the life of Jesus from a 
 purely historical point of view, we can demand and expect a 
 closer examination of the three factors named. They could, 
 indeed, pass by Hellenistic Judaism and Pagan culture, both 
 of which were unknown to Jesus, and co-operate only in the 
 subsequent development of Christianity, and they are perhaps 
 
Ignorance about Judaism 199 
 
 even forced to leave them in the background in order to avoid 
 the error of assuming that Jesus had been influenced by those 
 elements. But they are bound to examine the more closely, 
 the rock from which Christianity was originally hewn, the 
 fountain from which Jesus himself, and exclusively at that, 
 drew his knowledge. Renan in fact distinctly denies all 
 influence of the other two factors and abstains from further 
 examination of both, as he could and even was obliged to do 
 for his present purpose. On the other hand, he earnestly 
 seeks to throw light upon the Judaism of that time, carefully 
 informs himself of all recent researches, speedily appropriates 
 them, and makes ready with unprejudiced and just mind, to 
 disclose the fountain and its contents from which Jesus had 
 drawn. If some harsh and queer opinion creeps in, some 
 incorrect statement occurs, it happens because his aids are 
 still insufficient. But the more deeply he enters into the 
 history, the more embarrassing the foibles of his hero become 
 to him, so much the more his bias gains upon him and he 
 works himself into wrath against Judaism that much more. 
 If it bothers him that the teacher who was at first so meek 
 and mild "employed very harsh expressions against his oppo- 
 nents," he explains it by this, that "Jesus who was almost 
 exempt from all the defects of his race, was led against his 
 will into making use of the style used by all the polemics." 
 "One of the most prominent faults of the Jewish race is its 
 bitterness in controversy, and the abusive tone which it always 
 throws into it " (p. 325). If our writer soon after (p. 334) does 
 not deduce from Judaism the manner adopted by Jesus in con- 
 troversy, it is done because he there means to make it a 
 virtue: "His exquisite scorn, his sharply pointed challenges 
 always struck to the heart. Eternal brands, they seared the 
 marks into the wounds forever. The Nessus shirt of ridicule 
 which the Jew, the son of the Pharisees, has dragged along 
 in tatters for eighteen centuries, was woven by Jesus with 
 divine art. Masterpieces of lofty raillery, the marks of his 
 brush have burned into fiery lines into the flesh of the hypocrite 
 and pretender of devotion. Incomparable pictures, worthy of 
 a Son of God! Only a God can kill in that manner. Socrates 
 
200 Appendix 
 
 and Moliere but graze the skin. He carries fire and rage into 
 the very marrow of the bones.'* I simply quote his words, 
 and therefore will only add his opinion on the persons who 
 took part in the condemnation of Jesus, and on their pro- 
 ceeding. Of the generation of the high priests of that time, 
 he says (p. 366): "The spirit of the family was haughty, 
 bold and cruel; it had that peculiar and reserved malignity 
 which characterizes Jewish politics." Mr. Renan caps the 
 climax at the conclusion. That he calls (p. 396) the death of 
 Jesus a judicial murder and yet designates it as legal (p. 411) 
 and only says "The law was detestable" may be passed over. 
 He is also kind enough to admit that the Jew of the present 
 day should not be made to suffer on account of the application 
 of "that detestable law" of long ago; he calls it (p. 412) "the 
 law of ferocity" and remarks, "The hero who offered himself 
 to abrogate it, had to suffer it before all." And then he 
 continues, "Alas! it will require more than eighteen hundred 
 years before the blood which he now loses will bear its fruit ! 
 In his name, for centuries, tortures and death will be inflicted 
 upon thinkers as noble as he. Even to-day, in countries 
 which call themselves Christian, penalties are imposed for 
 religious delinquencies. Jesus is not responsible for such 
 aberrations. He could not foresee that any people with dis- 
 ordered imagination would ever conceive him as a frightful 
 Moloch, greedy for burnt flesh. Christianity has been 
 intolerant, but intolerance is not an essentially Christian act. 
 It is a Jewish act," etc. 
 
 We are weary of citing such expressions of a thinker who 
 otherwise aspires to impartiality ; the relapse appears into the 
 old apologetics which knew to defend only by abuse. How- 
 ever, Mr. Havet has already exposed in the Revue des Deux 
 Mondes the injustice of such a mode of proceeding, and the 
 belletristic form in which it is presented removes the necessity 
 of serious refutation. Against definite charges that are more 
 than unsupported assertions, we are at all times ready to 
 enter the arena. But it would be unjust to Mr. Renan to 
 charge him with a considerable remnant of religious hatred. 
 His is not the opinion of the Christian about Jews and Judaism, 
 
Ignorance about Judaism 201 
 
 it is the race-jealousy between the Aryan — i. e., the Indo- 
 European (or we call it the Indo-German) — and the Semite. 
 Mr. Renan, as descendant of Japhet, even now, fights in the 
 Jew, not his faith, but the son of Shem. Let us not follow 
 him into that domain of the jealousy between races. Let us 
 pass on to the German writer. 
 
 In my opinion, the two chapters in the book of Strauss, 
 entitled respectively *' Development of Judaism" and "De- 
 velopment of the Greco-Roman Culture" are the weakest 
 part of the work. The latter part, and especially the manner 
 in which it is treated, have really no connection with the 
 subject of the book. As we have already stated, Grecian 
 culture was unknown to Jesus himself, perhaps even its very 
 name, and can not afford the smallest clue to an explanation 
 of his character. But even into the succeeding formation of 
 Christianity, Grecian culture entered as a fermentative agent, 
 rather in its degenerate state than in its earlier, nobler form. 
 But Mr. Strauss emphasizes just that earlier form and would 
 like to ascribe to it the ennobling moral influence on incipient 
 Christianity, while he denies such work to Judaism. An 
 assertion of Welcker serves him as guide (p. 180) and he 
 quotes: "Out of Hebrew supernaturalism, humanity could 
 never have proceeded; for in proportion as its conception is 
 earnest and exalted, must the authority and the law of the 
 One God and Master press down human God-conscious liberty 
 from which all energy and cheerful aspiration to the best 
 and noblest aims emanates." Mr. Strauss may have felt the 
 weakness of such reasoning, for he adds with a view to 
 strengthening it, "Just because the Divinity did not confront 
 the Greek in the force of a commanding law, he had to become 
 a law unto himself; because he did not, like the Jew, see his 
 life regulated for him, step by step, he was compelled to 
 seek for a moral pattern within himself." It ought to be 
 high time for finally dispensing with the abuse of such abstract 
 construction of history. Whoever does not make history 
 along the lines of such self-made categories, but derives it 
 from the facts, and takes pains to comprehend it, will soon 
 come to the conclusion that the moral doctrines of a people 
 
202 Appendix 
 
 are the reflection of its conception of the Deity; the more 
 perfect the thought of God, the more exalted the ideal towards 
 which man aspires. As an actual fact, just that moral 
 rottenness of the paganism of that time made it easier for 
 Christianity to gain converts among serious thinkers ; Grecian 
 culture in its then decomposed state was a troubled, fermen- 
 tative element, but never, as Strauss would like to make it, 
 a worthy instructress. 
 
 What Strauss thus attributes and adds to Grecian culture, 
 that he deducts in good measure from Judaism. With 
 delight he grabs for its actual or alleged defects, and his 
 knowledge of the Judaism of that time stands on the same 
 plane which he occupied twenty-nine years ago. As then, 
 so even now he ransacks Eisenmenger and Gfoerer that they 
 may supply him through channels outside of legitimate 
 criticism with passages from comparatively recent works, 
 such as that of an addle-brained cabal ist of two hundred 
 years ago, Ruben Hoeschke, viz. his Yalkut Rubeni and the 
 like. He shares that ignorance with the entire Christian 
 science in Germany; yet he almost surpasses it in ignoring 
 all recent researches in Jewish literature, and his delight in 
 painting Judaism in the darkest shades is evident. His 
 continual placing of priests and prophets in juxtaposition 
 without divining the fundamental antagonism between the 
 principles animating them; his presenting of priests and 
 Pharisees as one, his outlines of the Sadducees and Pharisees, 
 his dwelling with preference on the Essenes who were without 
 sensible inflyence and of whom only the unreliable Josephus 
 gives an extended account; his manipulation of the stenciled 
 categories of obstinacy, narrowmindedness, one-sidedness, 
 national rigidity, etc., exhibit the deplorable relapse of the 
 historian into the prejudiced apologist whose phrase and 
 verbiage but poorly veil the lack of knowledge and fathoming 
 of the actual relation of the facts.* In that, he outdoes 
 modern science, which still gropes in the dark with uncertain 
 steps in this part of history, and continues to operate with 
 
 * For some particulars, compare II. Vol., pp. 295, etc., in my "Juedische 
 Zeitschrift fuer Wissenschaft und Leben." 
 
Ignorance about Judaism 203 
 
 old, used-up material without examining it anew or increasing 
 it, but which yet sometimes feels an impulse to gain better 
 knowledge. Mr. Strauss seems to have stopped investiga- 
 tion, and thereby gives up the office of historian. 
 
 It is a very deplorable fact that men who are as highly 
 esteemed by one side for their religious liberality as they are 
 condemned by the other, are so little familiar with the very 
 territory an exact knowledge of which is indispensable to a 
 scientific examination of the subject, and that they cling 
 with a certain tenacity to antiquated prejudices. To melt 
 the ice of unjust prejudice may be left to the sun of pro- 
 gressive civilization. But the continued efforts of true science 
 alone can succeed in overcoming ignorance. We can not 
 clear the Jewish students of science from the charge that 
 they have not sufficiently turned their attention to the 
 investigation of the most important periods and develop- 
 ments and thereby afforded in their works, material and 
 results to Christian investigators for correction of their 
 opinion. But Christian science is not justified thereby. In 
 any other department, scholars would long hesitate to pro- 
 nounce a final judgment upon subjects for the examination 
 of which the necessary premises and capacities are wanting; 
 only as far as Judaism is concerned, they think to be at 
 liberty to act with sovereign licentiousness. At all events, 
 it is the right, as well as the duty, of the Jewish scholar 
 emphatically to expose such proceedings. We hope that all 
 sides will seriously undertake a thorough and unbiased 
 investigation of Jewish ancient history and bring their results 
 to the knowledge of the general public. 
 
Second Part 
 
 In Twelve Lectures, with an Appendix: Open Letter to 
 Professor Dr. Holtzmann 
 
Preface. 
 
 The recital in this part starts from the same basic idea, 
 continues that of the first part, and the produced historic 
 development can itself undertake the justification of my 
 concept of history. The introductory and closing remarks, 
 to which I count also the "Open Letter" (a defense against 
 attacks on the first part), likewise contain some confirmation 
 of it. The matter develops in this volume closer to the 
 thread of history, and as I could not presume the events, 
 the most important spiritual moments and carriers of the 
 period treated, as so well known as those of the preceding 
 one, I had to set forth more definitely the general content 
 of the time as far as it contains the impress and development 
 of Judaism. Accordingly, this part had to draw the essential 
 Jewish-historical part with large strokes, and it may thereby 
 help the larger cultured public to a better acquaintance with 
 Jewish history without claiming to furnish a complete his- 
 torical work. Yet it is to be hoped that a sharp imprint of 
 the character of each time and the inner historic connection 
 will be perceived so much the more easily. In the selection 
 of the facts, the representation of which the intelligent 
 reader will easily notice to rest upon independent investiga- 
 tion without requiring, according to the plan of the book, 
 copious citations, there was no room for new, detailed exam- 
 inations, and I had to be satisfied with a few short notices 
 which treat more fully of some especially interesting particu- 
 lars illustrating the general mental condition. 
 
 May this part, too, enjoy the favor of the readers. When 
 in the eleven centuries of which it treats during an exceed- 
 ingly dry period of the world's history, there is yet revealed 
 within Judaism so much motion of spirit influencing the entire 
 development, the superiority with which "Jewish affairs'* 
 are kept at a distance as not worth considering, might bq 
 
208 Judaism and Its History 
 
 surrendered, the impregnation starting thence be acknowl- 
 edged, and the duty accepted to become better acquainted 
 with them as influential historical factors of the world. 
 
 Geiger. 
 
 Frankfort on the Main, May ii, 1865. 
 
Contents. 
 
 Page 
 Preface 207 
 
 First Lecture: Introduction 211 
 
 Second Lecture: The Dissolution of the State and Its 
 
 Consequences 216 
 
 Third Lecture : Akiba. Interpretation of the Scriptures 
 
 Mishnah. Babylonian Gemara 230 
 
 Fourth Lecture : Islam 247 
 
 Fifth Lecture : Karaites. Awakening of Science 260 
 
 Sixth Lecture: Saadias 275 
 
 Seventh Lecture: In Spain 286 
 
 Eighth Lecture : First Half of the Eleventh Century. . . . 300 
 
 Ninth Lecture: The Orient. Spain from 1070 to 1140. 317 
 
 Tenth Lecture: Aben Esra and Maimonides 332 
 
 Eleventh Lecture : In Germany and France 354 
 
 Twelfth Lecture: Italy and Provence 369 
 
 Notes 383 
 
 Appendix: Open Letter to Prof. H. I. Holtzmann 387 
 
I. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Judaism had not completed its mission with the end of 
 its second commonwealth. Within itself, it had completely 
 conquered idolatry, and had worked the idea of the unity 
 and sanctity of God into a living conviction. It had repre- 
 sented to man that divine sublimity as pattern to be imitated, 
 had exhorted him to act as a likeness of it. It had almost 
 reduced to complete loss of importance the pretentious 
 influence of a privileged priest-caste and an atoning sacrificial 
 service, and had brought into prominence the equality of men 
 and their value according to their free moral aspiration. 
 But these foundation principles of all truly human piety, 
 these eternal truths to which all mankind shall rise, had been 
 worked out within a tribe which felt the necessity of forming 
 itself into a narrow, close nation, because they had grown 
 up amidst an environment led by vastly different convictions. 
 The Jewish people had, therefore, to separate itself with 
 some severity, in order not to be seized by those aberrations, 
 while it could not, on the other hand, wholly avoid the in- 
 fluences from without, and many customs entered into its 
 religious thought and life which never sprouted from its idea, 
 but rather were intruders from the surrounding nations. 
 Thus the mission of Judaism was not completed. It lived 
 separate, it accepted this separation as a duty, and had to 
 keep it up according to the condition then prevailing, while 
 according to its true calling it shall pour out over all mankind, 
 in love embracing all. It should guide man to walk in the 
 ways of God, in the ways of the highest wisdom and the 
 highest moral freedom; it should educate him to that, and 
 it was through its exclusion, as well as through the influence 
 of its environment, forced into many unfree extraneous 
 formalities. 
 
212 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Whether Judaism with undisturbed development in its 
 home country would have broken through those barriers, 
 whether it would, according to the enthusiastic view of its 
 prophets, have opened its gates wide for the reception of all 
 humanity, whether it would have developed from within to 
 overcome all legal formalities, is a question which the course 
 of history does not answer for us. Nearly contemporaneous 
 with the dissolution of the Jewish state, the attempt appeared 
 to proclaim the entrance of the Messianic time and the 
 dominion of Judaism as near at hand or actually in existence, 
 but the attempt had come from an over-excited time, wrestling 
 with despair; neither the Jewish people nor humanity was 
 sufficiently prepared for that. Truth is not conquered by a 
 charge; it penetrates gradually and transfigures. Judaism, 
 indeed, sent forth a messenger who in course of time made 
 many of its doctrines the common property of mankind; 
 but, soon estranged from the faith that had sent him, he 
 accepted, when he entered into the world and mixed with 
 the heathen, also much of that world, and blended with 
 paganism. The mission of Judaism was not accomplished 
 by that. 
 
 It was itself to journey into the world with all its mem- 
 bers, according to the entire form of life which it had taken. 
 The call of the spirit directing history went out to Judaism: 
 Go out over the whole earth, prove thy power in it, preserve 
 thyself, purify thyself, and win over all mankind. It did not 
 do that from free choice, nor with a heart confident of vic- 
 tory; sad necessity imposed the journey; shy, anxious, and 
 timid, it stepped into a world which it regarded with suspicion. 
 And the world growlingly turned its eyes upon it and noticed 
 it with suspicion and gloom. Thus Judaism was cast into 
 conditions pot only foreign but hostile. Its battle had to be 
 fought for a long time, more for mere preservation than for 
 purification and extension. It must therefore not surprise us 
 when we notice the endeavor for separation, for anxious 
 preservation of every trifling differentiation, and see such 
 endeavor crowded to the front. The indestructibility of the 
 fundamental ideas was to be proved even under the most 
 
Introduction 213 
 
 unfavorable circumstances, and has been proved, even when 
 in the difficulties under which they were forced to labor, they 
 found singular expressions. A plant that roots in darkness, 
 works in singular twists and turns towards the light; it takes 
 shapes and forms which are wholly strange to its nature. 
 But he would be a poor botanist that would judge of the 
 species according to such crooks contrary to its nature. The 
 expert will not misjudge the normal nature and force, he will 
 rather admire in the anomaly, the endeavor to get to the 
 light. In the same way, he poorly judges Judaism, who 
 attributes its medieval abnormity to its innermost nature, 
 and does not take into consideration how it had to wind 
 through all artificial restraints, get over unsurmountable 
 barriers, breathe in tainted air, exist in the dark shadow of 
 death lurking on every side, that does not rather admire the 
 inexhaustible force of life with which it has not only preserved 
 itself, but even worked to the light by every possible way, 
 how it has been able to soon straighten out its crooks and 
 has not been wrecked under all those unfavorable conditions 
 in its process of purification and its salutary effects. 
 
 For Judaism does not present to us, even from the time 
 when it began its journey among the nations, the picture of 
 decay; its way is not barren; rich seeds of the spirit are 
 scattered by it and impregnate the soil of humanity. The 
 following chapters shall furnish the proof. Not in the sense 
 that we are arbitrarily selecting proofs for an arbitrarily 
 accepted result. We want to undertake our journeyings 
 through the centuries, as far as we are favored to continue 
 them, not with the intention of shutting our eyes before sad 
 apparitions, spiritual deterioration and malformation, to 
 exclusively accentuate the predominant healthy developments, 
 to veil the other sides or even put them by artificial illumina- 
 tion into a blinding light and lend them a magic charm. 
 That would be falsification of history. Let us keep far 
 from that oblique consideration of the Middle Ages, from 
 that forced praise of the sad aberrations of that long period 
 of time. Let us give honor to the truth, even when it wounds 
 us and gives us pain. We see a long period of the world's 
 
214 Judaism and Its History 
 
 history go its peculiar ways, fight its heavy, calamitous 
 battle, first with manifold relapses, and after frequent falls, 
 rise by the greatest efforts to very slowly ripening results. 
 Within this history, Judaism, which has not made the con- 
 ditions, but is suffering with and by them, is producing 
 remarkable phenomena of itself. This historic fact shines 
 forth to us by all exact knowledge and open view, and so 
 much the more, the more exact our knowledge and the more 
 open the view. To bring into prominence this unmistakable 
 truth of history is not a constraint forced upon history; it is 
 the true expression of its innermost movement; to explain 
 this highly remarkable fact from the deep impulse which in 
 Judaism even under the burdensome oppression constantly 
 stirred its forces afresh, is no far-fetched interpretation, no 
 artificial extenuation, it is the quite simple presentation of 
 the development which evidences itself as according to nature, 
 This proceeding in the contemplation of history is a truly 
 unprejudiced objective one. The investigator who proceeds 
 in this way does not permit his sight to be dimmed by the 
 power gained by an opposing tendency, while Judaism had 
 pantingly to drag itself along. The conditions of power, even 
 if existing for a long time, are no final judgment of God in 
 the world's history. The good and true has to wrestle long 
 before it can rise from its insignificance and lowness and 
 surmount the mass of opposing obstacles. Error or half- 
 truth suits an imperfect stage better than the whole or more 
 developed truth. The final verdict is only given at the end 
 and when the end arrives in the course of history, who will 
 determine that? The world's history has not yet passed over 
 Judaism; it still stands, stands in full freshness, receptiveness^ 
 and capacity of development. He that explains it, he that 
 reveals the reason of its endurance, is the unprejudiced 
 investigator, not he that in his imagined superiority ignores 
 it. Whoever judges objectively will no longer permit himself 
 to be misled by deteriorations which sometimes were con- 
 ditioned by its own peculiar circumstances and sometimes 
 were forced from without; he will penetrate to the creative 
 force which did not exhaust itself in those malformations. 
 
Introduction 215 
 
 which was yet able to surmount and set them aside, and now 
 works on their removal and on noble new formations. That 
 is poor objectivity which sees only the particularities that 
 force themselves to the surface, puts them together and 
 expects to form by that a picture true to nature; a faithful 
 picture must not only fix the momentary distortion of the 
 features but it must render the enduring character which rules 
 every situation, even the most disagreeable one. 
 
 From many sides, such a proceeding may again be called 
 apologeticSj with an insinuation of condemnation. Against 
 the word I have no objection. To get for the misjudged 
 good its right of which it has been despoiled, to undertake 
 the defense of an unjustly reviled person or matter may be 
 called apologetics, as Plato and Xenophon wrote apologies of 
 their master, Socrates. But such apologetics is meritorious, 
 is no blamable distortion, is no fencing trick of a pettifogger. 
 They may always call our endeavor apologetical ; we shall not 
 be frightened by the word, but rather glory in such apolo- 
 getics. To defend the weak, to awaken a minority that is 
 gradually losing heart, to a conscious knowledge of their 
 rights and get them their dues although they are blamed and 
 disgraced by a public opinion which the privileged ones have 
 produced and preserve for their self-glorification, such defense 
 is an enterprise which had at all times more attraction for 
 noble men than that cheap and dishonorable course of flatter- 
 ing the powerful and mocking the wronged and disinherited 
 by jeers. 
 
 But let us keep far from excitement and pass on to the 
 facts. 
 
II. 
 
 The Dissolution of the State and Its Conse- 
 quences, Divine Service, NationaHty 
 and Faith, Akiba. 
 
 The murderous fight about Jerusalem was ended; to the 
 last moment the courageous remainder that had retreated into 
 the Temple, defended its ruined walls. It was a hot fight in 
 and about Jerusalem, about the Temple and within it, and 
 long after every prudent calculation had seen the last glimmer 
 of hope fade away, the zeal of those passionately enthusiastic 
 for their noblest possessions could not be restrained from 
 giving their bodies over to sure destruction. The fight was 
 terminated, the Temple fell, it had become a ruin. Whether 
 it was intentionally, by order of the commander, or through 
 the blind rage of the soldiery, set afire, is not certain ; at any 
 rate, the flames consumed it. The last remainder of inde- 
 pendence had given way, Judea was conquered, the state 
 was shattered, and consequently there was nothing left of 
 actual nationality and independent administration. Mighty 
 convulsions of that kind are attended with complete trans- 
 formations, but the consequences are of greatly varying kind. 
 If they hit institutions which are already hollow and under- 
 mined, the blast shatters what had been preserved simply by 
 force of habit, and makes room for new formations and new 
 institutions. The effect of such convulsion is different upon 
 arrangements and institutions which until then were yet fully 
 alive, though needing a transformation in their root, or only 
 leaning upon the whole and not existing by their own living 
 force. If they have never been questioned and are now first 
 shaken by the sudden turn of things, those who are touched 
 thereby hold to them so much the more strongly and are more 
 anxious, in order not to lose by outside pressure, something 
 
Dissolution of the State and Its Consequences 217 
 
 which they carried along as a valued possession. In this 
 manner appeared the consequences of the dissolution of the 
 Jewish state and the destruction of the Temple. 
 
 Up to that time, a thousand years* fight had been fought 
 about Temple, sacrificial service, and priesthood; a fight of 
 a thousand years, in which the noblest forces demanded a 
 rejuvenation or a complete removal, a different expression of 
 ideas from the manner in which they were represented by 
 priesthood and sacrificial service. For a long time the old 
 prophets and the later teachers had sometimes totally rejected 
 sacrificial service and priesthood, and sometimes at least 
 represented spiritual service as much more meritorious and 
 rooting more properly in the essence of Judaism. In the 
 meeting-houses of the Pharisees and their societies, a new 
 divine service had grown up alongside and outside of the 
 Temple service. In these meetings, prayer, contemplation, 
 and instruction, took the place of sacrifice; it was a divine 
 service in a smaller circle which existed by the side of the 
 general official one, which perhaps was not considered as 
 sufficient for the whole nation, but which still took away the 
 best forces from that official divine service. Thus, priest- 
 hood and sacrificial service had long been outgrown; yet as 
 existing arrangements they were too much connected with 
 the whole life of the nation, were too closely interlaced with 
 all institutions of the state, were so closely joined with the 
 administration and government that their removal could 
 hardly have been expected as long as the exterior conditions 
 for their preservation were not absent. Now, the wind came 
 and the withered stem fell down. Sacrificial service and 
 priesthood were suddenly swept away, the Temple which had 
 been their necessary basis, existed no more. If the institution 
 had been alive, it would have been possible to look up a new 
 place for it; but such a desire was not at all in the spirit of 
 the time. The new divine service, prayer, took the place of 
 the old Temple service. Prayer, contemplation, and instruc- 
 tion, as they already were in practice in the meeting-houses 
 (synagogs) of the societies of the Pharisees, were now recognized 
 as the only true worship of God, which should rule in Israel, 
 
218 Judaism and Its History 
 
 That was a great step, Judaism itself rose by it to a 
 higher plane, offered a high gift to all humanity. As long 
 as divine service consists in pilgrimage and exterior symbolical 
 service, it remains on the plane of childhood; when the 
 definite place gives the consecration, when the place only, 
 gives to the assembly the possibility of approaching their god, 
 so long worship of God remains something coming to man 
 from without, only a dim idea of the sublimity of a higher 
 overwhelming power is excited, it remains at the plane of 
 obscure sensation, at childish babble that struggles for expres- 
 sion. Only with the step, that the place does not consecrate 
 the assembly, but that the assembly gives the place its 
 importance ; that the clear and definite thought is pronounced 
 and not hovering in general dim sentiment; that the manly, 
 ripe expression takes the place of the childish babble; that 
 man struggles to apprehend with full consciousness his rela- 
 tion to God and to render it in definite, clear words, to enter 
 into himself and to securely lay down the resulting contem- 
 plations: only then man is truly religious, only then religion 
 has produced ripened fruit. For divine service is not a 
 religious exercise at the side of many various other ones, is 
 not a single religious action at the side of which many equal 
 ones have the same rank; divine service is the immediate 
 expression of man's relation to God. Here he wants to put 
 together all the sensations and thoughts that he is filled with 
 towards God and which join him to God. Divine service is 
 the expression of the common consciousness of a community 
 of the same faith and of their religious position ; in the purity 
 and depth of divine service the truth of the religious creed 
 is reflected in the clearest manner. The plane to which, 
 accordingly, Judaism has risen, must be apprehended in its 
 full importance. We have become used to divine service as 
 an existing fact, but this fact is an acquisition of Judaism and 
 has, therefore, only been perfectly communicated to those 
 religions which have gone forth from Judaism or are leaning 
 upon it. When another motive than prayer, contemplation, 
 and instruction, presses forward, the condition of obscure 
 sentiment recurs, mankind has suffered a relapse, religion has 
 
Nationality and Faith 219 
 
 lost its purity and the fight must be fought anew, in order 
 to again acquire that old genuine possession which Judaism 
 has handed out. 
 
 That is on one side a consequence of the great convulsion 
 which proceeded from the fall of the Temple and the disso- 
 lution of the state. In another manner those consequences 
 are not made so clear and plain. Judaism had arisen in a 
 people; this people was the carrier of the ideas of that faith 
 and it could not historically be otherwise. The religion 
 reached out far beyond the barriers of the people; it taught 
 that it should at some time become the common property of 
 mankind; it did not confine itself to the compatriots but 
 joyfully accepted all who acknowledged it in true and full 
 fidelity. 
 
 Not Jewish parentage made one a member of that nation, 
 but the acknowledgment of the faith. The stranger and the 
 home-born, thus it was continually repeated, were to be 
 perfectly equal. Yet for the present, Judaism existed among 
 definite people, the religion was interlaced with this nationality 
 and closely interwoven with the life of its state. Where 
 religion and people coincide, where religion and state institu- 
 tions remain in constant reaction upon each other, there the 
 state is, of course, consecrated in its laws and institutions by 
 the religious life breathed into it; but vice versa, the religious 
 institutions become at the same time commands of the state 
 and popular custom, they penetrate and color the ideas of 
 right which the state is called upon to materialize ; they wear 
 the garment of nationality which that people has to form. 
 As long as people and religion, state and doctrine progressed 
 within Judaism with hands joined, isolated clouds might arise 
 out of such commingling, but the junction was a natural one. 
 But now the people's bands were dissolved, nationality was 
 to cease, the state was broken up, the confessors of Judaism 
 became and should become members of that people among 
 whom they lived and citizens of the state within the sov- 
 ereignty of which they resided. How will this religion now 
 accomplish its new task within this new position? Is Judaism 
 really so completely permeated by nationality that it cannot 
 
220 Judaism and Its History 
 
 exist without the same, is its real task exhausted as soon as 
 nationality has disappeared? Or does this religion (Judaism) 
 stand higher than nationality, will it dissolve the national ties 
 by which it was swathed, and strive to respond to the call 
 of becoming common property of mankind? 
 
 That question came to Judaism with precipitation; history 
 put it without preparation. Until then a perforation of 
 nationality had not been striven for; on the contrary, its 
 strengthening was desired that it might be a support to the 
 religion. What is to be withdrawn so suddenly is not sur- 
 rendered so readily. Nor was the problem recognized in its 
 full clearness at once. A people that has just been sub- 
 jugated and is still bleeding from a thousand wounds is so 
 much the less inclined to surrender the smallest particle of 
 what has been saved of its national force. The convulsions 
 of the organism just cut through are so mighty that it appears 
 as the highest task to preserve the life still pulsating, and hope 
 is yet present of quickly bringing about a complete restoration. 
 Things were at first arranged as well as could be done. Jeru- 
 salem could no longer be the place of assembly ; they removed 
 to Jamnia to preserve coherence from there ; a new magistracy 
 was established there, the old institutions were observed as 
 far as they were possible in life, and new ordinances and 
 arrangements necessary for the moment were set up. It is 
 significant that most of them proceeded from this view: 
 "Perhaps the Temple will be rebuilt to-morrow; everything 
 must be prepared for that, we must be properly ready to move 
 into it at once." Thus the dissolution was regarded as a 
 condition that would soon pass by: "All will soon be formed 
 over, for the moment we had to give way to superior force, 
 things will level up again, the old conditions will be renewed, 
 let us keep prepared and ready for them." 
 
 Soon the silent longing was not enough; the convulsions 
 took life, attempts at rebellion appeared, and barely seventy 
 years after the destruction of the Temple, about 130, a 
 powerful rising took place, it seemed as if the fight would be 
 made all over again. The rebellion had wonderful fresh and 
 new strength and kept in the field during several years against 
 
Ben-Kosiba. Persecutions 221 
 
 the veteran legions and the powerful dominion of Rome. 
 Under Ben-Kosiba (also called Bar Kokhba, "the son of the 
 star'* or "starlike" — so hailed as the star that was to rise 
 out of Jacob) whose real name we do not even know, but is 
 supposed to have been Simeon — under Ben-Kosiba, a cour- 
 ageous troop gathered and he was a brave and skillful general. 
 He knew how to attach the scattered remnants to himself, and 
 to breathe courage into them for resistance against the 
 powerful adversaries. Especially in the mountain fortress 
 Bethar, he maintained himself for a long time ; the life breath 
 of Israel was kept in anxious suspense by his enterprise; but 
 he succumbed, and every hope of a successful rising dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Then a sad time began. So far, the Romans, if not 
 particularly mild to the Jews, who were subjugated enemies, 
 had, on the whole, paid no attention to their interior institu- 
 tions and religious opinions, but now the conditions took 
 another turn. Every Jewish ordinance, every custom, was 
 considered a sign of rebellion; they no longer saw in it a 
 religious practice proceeding from the heart, but considered 
 them the visible marks of a rebellion which must be put down 
 with fire and sword. "Why art thou condemned to die on 
 the cross?" — "Because I performed circumcision." — "Why 
 art thou sentenced to die?" — "Because I rested on the 
 Sabbath." — "Why art thou whipped?" — "Because I observed 
 the feast of the tabernacles." Such conversations have been 
 handed down from that time. The most severe punishments 
 were ordered to keep the Jew from making himself known as 
 professing his religion; the gloomy shadows of "the time of 
 danger, the time of repression of the faith" run through this 
 later literature. 
 
 Yet, persecution and blood are the surest means to fortify 
 opposing opinions, instead of suppressing them. The ancient 
 teachers with deep historic insight said: "That for which 
 the Israelites have given their life, has become firm and 
 constant within them; what they have not sealed with their 
 blood has not acquired such enduring force." Particulars that 
 would have seemed nonessential and would never have 
 
222 Judaism and Its History 
 
 appeared as the center, were now to attain a higher value 
 because so much had to be suffered for them, and they even 
 became foundations of the faith. The persecutions which, 
 from that time on, scarcely relented, removed them from their 
 fellow-inhabitants and threw them back within themselves; 
 their own national memories and hopes were kept awake that 
 much the more. The present was gloomy; to enter into and 
 commingle with the people with whom they now resided, 
 became an impossibility. The rulers regarded the professors 
 of Judaism as a separate part of civil society, as a close 
 community. They were treated as such a one and had to feel 
 themselves so. In ancient Rome, that great world-empire, 
 it was hardly possible that one tie should closely bind all the 
 various countries together; each one retained its peculiarity 
 within the loose bond. The greater part of the Jews had 
 remained in Judea, in Palestine, and thus under pagan Rome 
 the preservation of a certain amount of nationality resulted 
 of itself. In the later Christian time, persecution and pres- 
 sure increased, and the repelling forces from without knitted 
 the individual members of the Jewish confession still closer 
 together, and thus the memories of the past assumed quite 
 naturally the colors of shining ideals and the hope of the 
 future could consist only in this, that therein whatever the 
 past appeared to have been would reappear. The memories 
 heightened into religious veneration, the hopes into religious 
 longing. 
 
 The mood was fed through the whole character of the 
 approaching Middle Ages. Pagan Rome was verging towards 
 its dissolution; no longer was fresh, living force circulating 
 into its far-off members which were the component parts of 
 the large body. Judaism, which by all fidelity to its own 
 faith, rapidly enters into the spirit of any virile nationality, 
 did not find such a one to which it could join itself. While 
 pagan Rome remained without influence upon the formation 
 of Judaism and acted only repellent, the ruling course of ideas 
 of the Christian world which took possession of Rome^s 
 heritage, had altogether injurious effects: it confirmed and 
 developed an oblique tendency existing within Judaism of 
 
Character of the Middle Ages 223 
 
 that time, by making that tendency the ruling one within 
 itself and for the whole world. With the rise of Christianity, 
 the history of the world was actually completed for the Middle 
 Ages ; perfection had been reached ; further development was 
 neither ordered nor possible. On the contrary, to lean upon 
 that ancient time, to carry that ancient ideal into the present, 
 and when that was not possible, to hope for a future which 
 in a marvelous way would yet make that ideal the actuality, 
 was the inmost core of all effort of the Middle Ages. The 
 present was ignored ; it was, to use a recent form of expression, 
 the bad fallen reality. It existed, but was unfit, useless; it 
 appeared degenerate insomuch as it was not the counterpart 
 of the ideal which shone over from the past, insomuch as it 
 tried to be something of itself. Thus the world of that time 
 had no present, it had only a past to which it looked up, and 
 a future for which it waited. To create by their own powers 
 of the time, to produce new formations by their own ability, 
 that was wholly outside of the horizon of the long enduring 
 Middle Ages. Past and present played, therefore, into each 
 other in an exceedingly curious manner; the past times were 
 carried along in the frame of the every-day happenings of the 
 present, and vice versa. With such views the Christian 
 world looked back upon the old prophets and the patriarchs; 
 they were looked upon as men who had already had the full 
 belief of the present, who had been full of the same longing 
 that was felt by the world of that time ; qualities were imputed 
 to them that were now considered the best ones. Even the 
 great ancient pagans, as far as they were known, took Chris- 
 tian form or were transfigured into wizards. Of historic 
 development, of things having been different in earlier times, 
 there was not even an inkling of an idea; consequently, they 
 tried to bring all the past into the present and form it as a 
 shadow into the present. What was it that really produced 
 the great and violent struggle in the Middle Ages, what shows 
 the only sign of life moving deeply through those times? The 
 struggle to make a Christian-Roman world empire, attempted 
 in two different ways, and just that difference caused 
 mighty struggles which, after all, wrought great advantages 
 
224 Judaism and Its History 
 
 for the world, but sapped its best forces and caused splits 
 and division of nations, from which the present still suffers. 
 In a certain sense, the German nation was the normal people 
 of the Middle Ages, and its chief did not strive to strengthen 
 the nation within itself, to soundly form by its own healthy 
 material, to make a close junction of the individual members, 
 but he attempted to present the succession of the Roman 
 Empire in Christian form. He was perfectly satisfied with 
 a pseudo-investiture, with an empty, formal acknowledg- 
 ment of power that had no real strength. It was enough if 
 only the shadow of the old ideal moved in the present across 
 the world's stage, if only the semblance appeared that the 
 Roman world-empire still existed. On the spiritual side also, 
 the reality of the Roman Empire was striven for, and it was 
 now commanded by the founder of Christianity. If he him- 
 self was not present, his shadow was to rule, he was to be 
 represented by his vice-gerent. Even the religious idea 
 needed his real presence at the communion table, he had to 
 walk now as then, among his believers. Whatever else was 
 done by the Middle Ages was esteemed ungodly; the present 
 had merit only if it was leaning upon the past. For the 
 future, nothing new was hoped; it should simply set up the 
 past, perfect in all its particulars. 
 
 Can we now be astonished if that diseased tendency was 
 also nourished within Judaism? Within it also, memory of 
 the past and hope for the future became the chief principle 
 of life. The national, which without this had its food by the 
 persecutions from without, had now to permeate the religious 
 life, the present was to be represented as a complete picture 
 of the past, and everything that had its root in the state's 
 existence should be preserved, even when the conditions for 
 it were wholly lacking; whatever had been inherited, was 
 esteemed of value, without examining its origin, was con- 
 sidered as law; externals grew on luxuriously without the 
 sprout's receiving sap from the inner roots of the present life. 
 They lived with the past in the present, they imagined the 
 ancient devotees exactly as they beheld the devotees of the 
 time, they wrapped the patriarchs into such masquerade as 
 
Character of the Middle Ages 225 
 
 if those worthies had practiced all rules and ordinances down 
 to the very last as they had grown up later. David and 
 Mephiboset disputed about minor legal questions with all 
 scholastic seriousness, even Shem and Eber had arranged 
 schools exactly like those existing in later time. Historic 
 sense was lacking and the different times were mixed in motley 
 naivety; Laban was spoken of as an enemy of to-day, Haman 
 and Amalek in like manner; Elijah was thought to be con- 
 stantly at work among Israel, as present at the reception of 
 every boy into the covenant and to have conversation with 
 the teachers in the schools and synagogs, instructing and 
 sometimes correcting them, often appearing in lovely manner 
 as friend and savior, and entering every year into every 
 house on the evening when the memories of the ancient 
 delivery from Egyptian bondage were renewed. That 
 delivery was, of course, an event of to-day! If our ancestors 
 had not then been delivered from Egypt, we should to-day 
 be subject to the Egyptians; that was repeated year by year. 
 Past conditions were the present ones, and thus it is natural 
 that the present ones should be the complete representation 
 of the past ones; they strove with every force of mind and 
 spirit to remove out of the present and to belong to a past 
 which, in addition, they conceived upside down. 
 
 That is a strong reverse which Judaism of the Middle 
 Ages reveals to us. It fed a life of shadows and semblances, 
 and such a one naturally gives occasion for the most various 
 aberrations. We must not hide that reverse if we want to 
 estimate history justly and without bias, if we want to com- 
 prehend the task we have to work out regarding the Middle 
 Ages. There must have been a solid sterling kernel alongside 
 of that shadowy reverse, which could endure under the most, 
 various formations of life, under the hardest pressure of 
 nearly eighteen centuries; there must have been an interior 
 force which drove its sap even into those creepers. Legalism 
 could never have preserved religion so long; religion carried 
 legalism. Nationality could never have supplied to faith its 
 force ; faith quickened the quivering manifestations of national 
 life, its memories and hopes. If in other religions, aberrations 
 
226 Judaism and Its History 
 
 have been preserved for a long time, it has its cause in quite 
 different conditions. Where rich, full life courses all its 
 forces, when all saps that produce and nourish the planting, 
 pour into one channel, it is natural that the movement endures, 
 and thus all the stems that are not perfectly strong and roots 
 that are not entirely fresh can be constantly freshened and 
 receive new life. But when broken trunks, like Judaism, 
 overgrown with creepers, are constantly exposed to new 
 windstorms and yet keep alive, the root must be sound and 
 the saps must be healthy; if they cannot, in gloomy times, 
 appear in full beauty and noblest development, they yet have 
 the imperturable force of self-preservation which, in spite of 
 all overgrowth of creepers that the conditions force upon 
 them, does not let them perish. 
 
 Therefore, even in those gloomy and difficult times, the 
 genuine ideas of Judaism were not blotted out but always 
 enjoyed further cultivation. We find the same men, in whom 
 we see the founders of what we now call rigid legalism, the 
 representatives of the most sterling truths of religion and of 
 the deepest moral principles. Akiba Ben Joseph especially 
 stands forth in that period. He lived at the time of the 
 rising under Ben Kosiba, manifested in his life and teaching 
 ardent zeal for the preservation of Israel in its inherited form. 
 He believed in the restoration of its state and fought for it; 
 he carried through with consistence the pharisaic principles in 
 sharply defined externals, and contemporaries as well as pos- 
 terity bow before him. The same man lays down principles 
 that reveal a deeper comprehension than we should suppose 
 from the author of those external ordinances. God, man, and 
 humanity, are presented by him in the most dignified and 
 sublime manner. He bases his sayings on verses of Scripture, 
 interprets those in this way, as was the custom of that time. 
 The custom had its foundation in the desire to find one's own 
 thoughts complete in the past, designated by the same expres- 
 sion now in use for it. That is a method or proceeding which 
 we may consider lacking independence and exegetically 
 unjustifiable. But if we put aside the desire to lean upon 
 the past and consider the views on their merits, they could 
 
Akiba 227 
 
 not now be expressed better. "In the image of God created 
 he him" (man), says the Scripture. Is there a shape of God 
 and is man its image? By no means, says Akiba, the passage 
 is to be understood in this way: God created man in a 
 definite image, in an excellent shape; far be it that we should 
 even in poetic expression, speak of an image of God. And 
 again: "And the Lord God said. Behold, the man is become 
 as one of us to know good and evil.** How? Has man 
 moved into the sphere of divinity? Should God say that? 
 Impossible. The sense of the passage is quite different, says 
 Akiba, and he interprets it: Man is become as one to know 
 good and evil by himself. This interpretation is rather forced 
 and hardly fits into the context, but it aims to remove God 
 beyond corporeal presentation and to prevent the removal of 
 the barrier between God and man. "For there shall no man 
 see me and live.** Is there only the death penalty against 
 seeing God, can any man see God? Is that possible? Another 
 misunderstanding, says Akiba. The passage means: No 
 man sees me, and no living being, not the angels, not the 
 holy, pure, spirits. Thus Akiba applies all the forces of his 
 mind to preserve the conception of the spirituality of God 
 in its purity. 
 
 In the same manner he presents man in his superiority. 
 We have just quoted his sayings based on Scripture verses: 
 "He created man in a definite image, in an excellent shape** 
 and "man is become as one to know good and evil by him- 
 self.*' As the first saying designates man relative to his 
 superiority above all creatures, so the second accentuates his 
 conscience, sharp and short. Let us now quote an inde- 
 pendent saying of his: "All is foreseen, freedom is given.** 
 These two sentences are put together which are the basis of all 
 religion; Providence on the one side, and yet on the other 
 side human freedom that acts of its own free will. On this 
 metaphysical problem many religions have been wrecked. 
 To hold fast to the sublimity and perfection of God, they 
 pressed man deep down and made him a being incapable of 
 acting or doing by himself. No, says Akiba, everything is 
 forseen, but yet freedom is given. And while the former is 
 
228 Judaism and Its History 
 
 assertion of deeper knowledge of God, the latter is assertion 
 of true human piety. United, they form the possibility of 
 all religiousness; united, they are of Judaism the basis which 
 must never be shaken and has never been shaken. This 
 capacity of man to determine for himself with full freedom, 
 and therefore to elevate himself, to strive toward perfection 
 by himself, and to attain it by honest endeavor, this capacity 
 Akiba has presented in pregnant brevity as base and center 
 of Judaism, and Judaism has steadily held fast to it. By 
 that it has preserved the unbroken energy with which it bore 
 and ruled the sorrowful life. Through its greatly inter- 
 mingled history, this dignified conception of man runs along 
 as the guiding line. 
 
 In recent times it has been recognized how the great poet 
 and thinker who presented to us the struggle of the different 
 religions, how Lessing in "Nathan" puts up, as noble repre- 
 sentatives of the other two religions, men whose entire longing 
 it is to withdraw from human activity. The friar would like 
 to avoid all intercourse with men, and the dervish would flee 
 out of the world's business to get back into his loneliness. 
 On the contrary, the representative of Judaism is a man of 
 the world, but at the same time a sage, a man that draws 
 experience out of life, knows it, thoroughly apprehends its 
 weaknesses and reverse side, but who still looks upon them 
 with tolerance and kindness, sees in every human being a 
 noble foundation and nourishes the joyful hope of being able 
 to forward his development from that. Did Lessing want to 
 glorify Judaism by that representation? By no means, but 
 the poet in his genius has by that taken a deep look into the 
 essence of the religions. It is true, other religions regard 
 loneliness as the flower of all piety; they praise the withdrawal 
 from human society, glorify celibacy and silent contempla- 
 tion. The friar pronounces it with touching candor: "A 
 hundred times a day I long to be on Tabor," and the hot- 
 blooded dervish in his more violent manner says, *'At the 
 Ganges, at the Ganges alone, are men" — in both religions, 
 fleeing out of the world is praised as true religiousness. In 
 contrast to that, energetic endeavor in the world, recognition 
 
Force of Judaism 229 
 
 of humanity, is the basis of Judaism. A Nazarite was looked 
 upon as a sinner because he abstained from wine; who under- 
 goes fasting without good reason is also adjudged a sinner 
 because he inflicts upon himself unjustifiable burdens and 
 privations which are not approved by God. Fleeing out of 
 the world would really have been natural to Judaism in view 
 of its suffering and heavy trials; hermit's brooding ought to 
 have made its appearance, and yet such doings were never 
 recognized as worthy action. On the contrary, separation 
 from society was reproved, labor in humanity, recognition of 
 the goodness of God in nature and in the human world were 
 at all times recognized and praised as the innermost kernel, 
 as the foundation of all moral will and endeavor. 
 
III. 
 
 Akiba, Interpretation of the Scriptures, 
 Mishnah, Babylonian Gemara. 
 
 Let us continue the view of the period. Akiba, as we 
 have observed, one of the foremost carriers of the tendency 
 of that time (first half of the second century) has in brief 
 words pronounced great eternal truths; he has presented God 
 in pure spirituality and man in his capacity and task to 
 develop out of himself the noblest product. Let us try to 
 complete that representation by a few illustrations. Besides 
 God and man separately, the question arises as to man 
 within mankind, as to the relation of the individual within 
 society. This question also, Akiba, in conjunction with his 
 contemporaries, answers for us. Already the quoted saying 
 of the excellent shape of man gives us in the form of its 
 expression, sufficient guidance. It is, so the words run, a 
 great preference for man to have been created in excellent 
 shape. By that it is announced that man in general, not a 
 separate class of men, not man under certain conditions, of 
 a certain faith, the individual of an exclusive people, alone 
 possesses that excellency, but man in general, all men. To 
 leave no doubt about that meaning, he continues: For 
 Israel, it is an excellency that they have recognized the 
 fatherhood of God and are designated as God's children; 
 what he said earlier of men and his high excellence, he holds 
 to under all forms and conditions. And it corresponds to it, 
 if he repeats the words of Hillel and pronounces: The com- 
 prehensive great principle of the law is, Love thy neighbor 
 as thyself. In the most perfect agreement with that, is the 
 doctrine of a little earlier contemporary of Akiba, Joshua Ben 
 Chanania, who in general is most like Akiba. In contra- 
 diction to some other teachers, he quotes the verse of Psalms: 
 
Akiba, Interpretation of the Scriptures 231 
 
 The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that 
 forget God; and interprets, Only those that forget God are 
 turned into hell, but not any that think of God; all — those 
 outside of Israel as well — who harbor a divine idea, who strive 
 toward higher, nobler development, even if in error now and 
 then, who want to lift themselves toward God by honest 
 endeavor, to all of them is due a share in eternal life, as he 
 expresses it. That is a great thought which occurs here in 
 briefest form, according to the method peculiar to the time, 
 based upon a verse of the bible and without larger develop- 
 ment of its contents, but which is of great depth and was for 
 that period and for the long centuries thereafter, the fountain 
 of richest and truly religious stimulation. At a time in which 
 Judaism was forced, in order to defend itself against exterior 
 influences, into exclusiveness, and austerely carried it through, 
 at the selfsame time, it decidedly rejected by that doctrine, 
 all one-sided narrowness which prevailed so mightily on the 
 outside. It preserves to itself the recognition of all that is 
 human, never lets go of the guiding line by which it joins the 
 tie of peace with all humanity. We must apprehend this 
 doctrine so much the more according to its full importance 
 and recognize the indestructibility of the live Jewish religious- 
 ness, the more it seems to be in contradiction with the entire 
 attitude and the efforts of the time. And this doctrine did 
 not remain unnoticed; it became valid doctrine for all time 
 in Judaism, even if the rigor from without, did not let it 
 attain to its complete consequences, yet through all periods 
 sounded the undisputed doctrine: The pious of all nations 
 and all religions have a share in eternal life. 
 
 As to the position of the individual in society, sayings 
 have come down to us from that time, which bear witness of 
 the deep insight into the nature of man and his task. Every- 
 one has value who carries within himself endeavor toward 
 perfection, who accepts God's law and develops accordingly; 
 he is measured by that, not according to position and rank. 
 There are three crowns : the crown of government, the crown 
 of priesthood, and the crown of the knowledge of the law; 
 yet they are excelled by the crown of a good name. In every 
 
232 Judaism and Its History 
 
 condition of life, only the faithful doing of duty which merits 
 good repute, is the true crown. Government and priesthood 
 are gifts of birth ; knowledge of God's law can be acquired by 
 everybody, and with it he grasps the finest crown, puts it on 
 his head, and thereby attains true nobility. Already, at its 
 first formation, Phariseeism had opposed priestly nobility, 
 and all externals resting on office and birth; the value of 
 learning and of science, as it was then understood, the value 
 of what a man develops under all conditions, was put to the 
 front. Akiba, like Hillel, was a man of the people, not of a 
 higher rank, not endowed with inherited, unearned dignity; 
 but the plain scholar, risen to the greatest importance in 
 Israel, he stands as the hero of his time, and the builder for 
 all times. In this, too, lies an energy of Judaism, which kept 
 it fresh through the long period. It contained many a germ 
 which, if it had belonged to its spiritual essence, must have 
 necessarily developed and led to hierarchy. That this was not 
 the case, proves that the spirit of liberty within it was too 
 powerful for such attempts to succeed, even when they had 
 their historic connecting links and points of departure. 
 Induction into office by laying on of hands as sign of trans- 
 ference of spiritual dignity which in another religion became 
 out-and-out endowment with the holy ghost, dates back into 
 Judaism. Moses inducts Joshua into office in that manner. 
 Yet, such induction never became in Israel a priestly one and 
 was never considered to raised man to higher power. It re- 
 mained an expression of acknowledgment of attained ability. 
 It bestows the ornament of science, not the scepter of domin- 
 ion; it was a testimony of the acquisition of scholarship, not 
 a magical consecration and elevation. Therefore, at that 
 time, as in all times, the most modest scholar without position 
 or office, was esteemed in his circle just as much as another 
 who had attained high position and office. This recognition 
 of the love of the spirit and of the power of knowledge gave 
 to Judaism strength and freshness. 
 
 Such principles, as we have learned to know them from 
 that time, from a time in which Judaism was driven into 
 externalism and exclusiveness, remained the living force that 
 
Akiba, Interpretation of the Scriptures 233 
 
 again gave even to the hulls some spirituality, and this 
 endowed them with endurance; while on the other side, those 
 hulls were necessary to guard the innermost kernel of Judaism 
 from injuries which threatened it in such a terrible manner 
 from that time on. Indeed, the conditions of the time 
 demanded a tighter closing of ranks, a tangible external band, 
 because old ties had been broken. To obtain a correct 
 understanding of how this band was woven, which stretched 
 around the whole life, to be able to correctly estimate the 
 remarkable structure which then arose, we must present yet a 
 few complementary facts which introduce us into the mental 
 tendency that remained ruling within Judaism for a long time. 
 Already when the exiles had returned from Babylon to 
 restore the state and attempted to rehabilitate the Temple, 
 there had a certain antiquarian endeavor come back along- 
 side of the quick and fresh spirit which they had preserved 
 from the time of the old prophets, and which had become 
 their real energy for overcoming all paganism. That anti- 
 quarian sentiment had prevailed in all arrangements. While 
 yet Jeremiah, living about the time of the destruction of the 
 first Temple, announced: " I will put my law in their inward 
 parts and write it in their hearts;" while he, like all genuine 
 prophets, put the emphasis upon the point that the spirit 
 should rule, and not the letter, that not the written word but 
 the live inner meaning should become the measure for thought 
 and action, at the founding of the second Temple, we con- 
 stantly meet the phrase, "and they found written" On all 
 occasions, the books, accepted as written in godly spirit 
 during Israel's early ages, were consulted about their 
 opinions, and even opinions which were but temporary 
 effusions arisen out of the conditions of a definite period, 
 prevailed as general ordinances, valid for all eternity. It 
 was not easy to make up the mind to admit the necessity 
 for development and real, accomplished transformation. 
 The spirit of tradition, which is nothing else than the 
 creative instinct for further development, was at hand 
 and the stream of life ran unconsciously through the whole 
 and did the transforming — but to pronounce with full decis- 
 
234 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ion that a new time had arrived which must grow new pro- 
 ducts out of the old, energetic spirit, for such a decided 
 declaration of their majority they were not ready. Even 
 when Phariseeism arose against the priestly usurpations of 
 the Sadducees, when it battled for the right of practical life 
 and the vigorous body of the people, its importance against 
 the arrogance of those who made regulations for the people 
 as officers of the sacrificial service and the written law, 
 it did not at first know how to give to its sound conviction 
 and energy any other expression, and to apply for their pre- 
 sentation any other remedy than to transfer the letter of the 
 law to themselves as well as to the priests, that it wrapped the 
 whole people in priestly vestment and adjudged every possible 
 priestly thing to them, so that they were more cramped, 
 notwithstanding the liberal, free thought, out of which the 
 resistance had come. In the later time, too, when mainly 
 through Hillel, a free sentiment penetrated still farther, the 
 endeavor was always present to compound with the letter as 
 much as possible. That something else was ordained in the 
 Scripture than that which prevailed in the present — to admit 
 that, courage was lacking. They sought rather to expound 
 one thing out and interpret another into it, to develop some- 
 thing different; in short, they wanted to carry the entire 
 present into the past in order to attain the ease of mind of 
 being really in accord with the past. 
 
 Such action was yet easier in the time of the second 
 Temple. With the great political and religious congruence 
 existing in those older conditions, transformations flowed in 
 more unnoticed ; the text of the old Scriptures was not as yet 
 fixed and it was in parts treated very much at the pleasure of 
 the copyist, never shrinking from making many changes, in 
 the belief that it must always have read that way, since it 
 could not be imagined to have been diff'erently written 
 according to then present views. The peculiarities of the 
 Hebrew language, like those of the Semitic sister-languages, 
 greatly favored such a change in the interpretation. As is 
 well known, the Hebrew has in its writing, in the cold pre- 
 sentation by letters, only consonants — the mere skeleton of 
 
Akiba, Interpretation of the Scriptures 235 
 
 the idea, as it were — which receives its actual life only from 
 the various pronunciations. According to the change in the 
 unwritten vowels, sense, meaning, and importance vary 
 greatly. Thus it was very easy at that time, when the vowels 
 had not been written (for only much later they came to be 
 directly indicated by little marks and points), at that time, 
 when all punctuation was lacking, it was very easy to give 
 new meaning to the text by other vocalization and different 
 punctuation, joining or separating words and phrases. Such 
 continued even when the efforts were made to fix the meaning 
 more exact by vocalization and punctuation, and thus they 
 have gained lasting shape in our present text of the bible. 
 In that way, there was in that time a peculiar identification 
 of one's own conception with the written word, a mutual 
 accommodation, a looking up of one's own in the book which 
 was adjudged to have exclusive validity in all its particulars, 
 and then again a half-conscious carrying into it and soft 
 bending of its general rules. With all veneration for the 
 standard book, they proceeded with a certain degree of 
 freedom; a people's life existed, which formed its wants and 
 peculiarities independently, in which the conditions of living 
 enforced their claims. Separate books were spoken of with 
 boldness, they were rejected, they were accepted, according 
 to the view held of them, according to the propriety of con- 
 viction found in them. This determination of the inner 
 consciousness would surely have matured its fruits with a 
 continued free nationality. 
 
 But now the time of ruin came. The tie was dissolved; 
 if the members of this faith were to be kept together while 
 they were scattered into the different countries, surrendering 
 the hope of being soon again gathered; if they were not to 
 totally fall apart, a new solid band had to be thrown around 
 them and the spirit had to receive a lasting form by which 
 it could be recognized. Yet the form into which it had 
 already moulded itself was held to be the one authorized and 
 binding for all time ; it was the expression of the people to be 
 preserved, and had to be kept with it. They believed that 
 they must cling to the past in all its peculiarities. To ask 
 
236 Judaism and Its History 
 
 for reasons, for occasions that might have produced this or 
 that regulation, to measure them by the spirit within them — 
 that seemed a wicked beginning, a presumptuous undertak- 
 ing. Independence of one's own conviction could now no 
 longer be permitted to prevail over the letter of the Scripture. 
 Proceeding freely with the text, as had been the habit, could 
 no longer be permitted, if everything was not to be made 
 uncertain with the dismemberment of the national life. 
 Accordingly, we then hear for the first time the acceptance 
 as a firm principle (which on the one side became scientifically 
 justified and preventing arbitrary action, had its favorable 
 influence, but on the other side became a great hindrance): 
 The traditional pronunciation — that is, the vocalization of 
 the text, which was then not written but was customary in 
 definite form — is a fence to the law; it must remain as it is 
 now fixed and traditionally delivered to us; it can no longer 
 be permitted that anybody should change it according to his 
 own views. 
 
 Nothing should now be different from what the present 
 letter of the Scripture presented, and nothing outside of it. 
 But there were so many transformations and additions in use? 
 That those were actually transformations and additions, 
 could not be admitted. Clinging to the letter, they tried to 
 interpret it as containing everything, all was to have existed 
 as valid from the beginning, even if it was not found in the 
 Scriptures; all should not be simply tradition as born out of 
 the original spirit of the people and fitted to the conditions, 
 but was to have existed in part by having been orally given 
 in all its particulars, with the written law, to Moses, and in 
 part by being indicated and contained in the Scriptures 
 according to an interpretation which was regarded as per- 
 fectly justified with a divine book that chooses no superfluous 
 word, no curious form, no irregularity, for nothing. From 
 such seeming indications it was believed the regulations that 
 varied from the natural meaning, and the ordinances that 
 were outside of it, could be sufficiently proved. And thus an 
 exceedingly dangerous method of interpretation was formed, 
 which at first simply tried to bring the actual existing into 
 
Akiba, Interpretation of the Scriptures 237 
 
 harmony with the received text, but which, very soon in 
 luxurious growth, created many a new regulation. Akiba and 
 his contemporaries are patterns in this proceeding. Because 
 Akiba demonstrated such an indication for ordinances which, 
 without being given in the Scriptures, had become firmly 
 established, but the validity of which was doubted by earlier 
 teachers because they could not find any warrant for them 
 in the written word — because Akiba demonstrated such an 
 indication for them, he was glorified as a skillful scholar, as a 
 man who had laid new and irremovable foundations for 
 Judaism in its then existing form. 
 
 We have noticed a few attempts in which Akiba ex- 
 pounded verses in accordance with his conviction, going far 
 away from the natural meaning. Another sample may 
 suffice to mark the whole proceeding. It is a peculiarity of 
 the Hebrew language that it sometimes indicates the objec- 
 tive case simply by the position of the noun in the sentence 
 and sometimes by the addition of the little word "eth." 
 That was sufficient occasion for those times to look for a 
 particular reason why that little word or particle was used 
 in some passages, although it might just as well have been 
 absent, and to ask for indications in its apparently super- 
 fluous presence. That word, but derived from a different 
 root, has the meaning "with." And that was enough for 
 that school to expound it accordingly in that sense and call 
 it "with" in every passage where it occurs. The proceeding 
 grew to such an extent that the interpretation was not 
 limited to discussion of the laws in the schools, but was 
 carried into the bible translations. The want was felt for a 
 new translation for the Jews who spoke the Greek language 
 only. The ancient Greek septuagint version which represented 
 the old position and had been made with great freedom, had lost 
 its former authority, and thus several new Greek translations 
 arose. Among them, the one of Aquila, a contemporary of 
 Akiba, especially wanted to render the new position in full, 
 and he is for that treated with great acknowledgment. It 
 clings to the letter and in that way translates everywhere 
 where that little word occurs as sign of the objective case as 
 
238 Judaism and Its History 
 
 if "with'* were in the text; it is rendered by the Greek "syn" 
 although it does not fit into the connection and is repugnant 
 to grammatical rules of the Greek language. That proceed- 
 ing governed the time, and as it faces us in that translation, 
 in the same way it was followed up by the teachers of the 
 Mishnah — the name of the teachers of the law at that time — 
 they expounded every sentence in which the little word was, 
 as if something else was included. In the beginning, God 
 created *'the" heavens and "the" earth; here too, the ob- 
 jective case is indicated by "eth.** Thence their interpre- 
 tation: "the" heavens, ''with the" heavens, all its hosts 
 were created; "the" earth, ''with the" earth everything 
 produced that moves and grows upon it. Thus it is said of 
 a contemporary of Akiba, Simon, or Nehemiah the Amsonite, 
 that he had successfully found interpretations for all passages 
 with that sign of the objective case, that he in fact found the 
 mission of his life in that work. But he came across one 
 passage at which he shied: "Thou shalt fear the Lord thy 
 God;" here also the objective case is indicated by that par- 
 ticle. That besides the Lord, others should be given like 
 fear, that another being should be named as on a certain 
 equality with God, that he did not dare to pronounce, and 
 he gave up any attempt at interpretation. Asked for the 
 reason why, after so many interpretations, he abstained from 
 finding one here, he said, "As I hope to receive reward for 
 the interpretations which I made, so I hope to receive reward 
 for abstaining from it in this passage." A fine sense for 
 truth! It did not suffice to Akiba, he had more courage and 
 was more consistent; he found an interpretation: "Besides 
 God, you shall honor the teachers of His law." 
 
 This example may be sufficient to show with what anxiety 
 the letter was observed on the one side, and how arbitrarily 
 it was squeezed and pressed into service on the other side in 
 order to interpret the most various things out of it. That 
 anxious clamping and cramping at a given word was a sad 
 necessity, if all was not to fall apart. The spirit could not 
 reveal itself in its freedom. It could not in a fluid and 
 esoteric manner have resisted a world that met it with rude- 
 
MiSHNAH 239 
 
 ness and violence; it needed a hard, surrounding matter, a 
 protecting hull, a sheltering roof, under which the scattered 
 members got closer together. We learn about Akiba that he 
 traveled far about, but we do not exactly know for what 
 purpose. Yet it can hardly be doubted that in those journeys 
 he did not omit to cement together the scattered members 
 in the various countries, so that they remained parts of a 
 whole. That endeavor was a leading principle with more or 
 less clear consciousness. In Palestine, the old ties were 
 dissolved, a new one was to get around them. Indeed, it 
 gradually became a very coarse rope, but it answered the 
 purpose; it held fast together until the time comes when the 
 shell may be burst, and the mind and spirit can unfold freely. 
 The new movement with seeming convulsive clinging to 
 the old things, effected a complete inner transformation and 
 was decisively pressing to a close. And thus we meet, a 
 short time thereafter, a new book worked out of that move- 
 ment. It is the Mishnah. The word means "repetition," 
 but is intended for "doctrine." Everything in it was then 
 styled repetition; nothing appeared new, everything had to 
 appear as simply repeated and renewed injunction of what 
 the ancient time had given long ago. What the old law, so 
 they persuaded themselves, had laid down in short words, in 
 dim indications, that was here repeated, but expanded more 
 definitely and more extensively. That Mishnah was closed 
 by Rabbi Juda the Prince about sixty years after Akiba. 
 Akiba himself appears to have started one, but it came to a 
 close only then. It can not be our task here to enter into the 
 particulars of it, but the spirit that rules in it is known by 
 the matter accepted and the manner in which the material 
 is arranged. It is in six divisions. It begins with the divine 
 service and almost leads to the belief that this amounts to a 
 demonstration, the presentation of the great treasure that 
 had been gained, because divine service is the real and lasting 
 conquest of Pharisaic Judaism against the priesthood. Priest- 
 hood is on the whole neglected and rather ignored in the 
 Mishnah. And yet one-half of it is filled with instruction 
 about things that had already been removed out of the 
 
240 Judaism and Its History 
 
 present. Besides the still-valid ordinances about festivals, 
 marriage relations, civil law matters, and the like, it treats 
 of regulations about the soil, the dues or taxes to be paid 
 from the crops, about sacrifices, cleanness and uncleanness. 
 Those matters fill the greater part of the book, matters which 
 had disappeared out of practical life and had no longer 
 validity in the present, but were a tradition of the past. 
 But they lived in the past and presented it. 
 
 That was the last incisive action which affected Judaism 
 from Palestine. That country did not wholly rest during the 
 coming centuries, forced a few sprouts, but they were without 
 particular creative force and did not attain to governing influ- 
 ence upon the remaining Jewish world. The soil of Palestine 
 had become unstable and slippery for Israel and his faith. 
 The entire Roman empire no longer offered a safe spot for 
 him. But a new country opened to him, or rather, a territory 
 came again into the foreground that had once before been a 
 refuge for Israel and in which Jewish seed had once before 
 come up abundantly. Immediately after Rabbi Juda the 
 Prince — that is, after the close of the Mishnah at the begin- 
 ning of the third century — we find a large number of schools 
 in Babylonia, in the country whither the scattered remmants 
 of the first Temple had been conducted, where they were still 
 germinating and growing, in the country whence Ezra had 
 arisen, who undertook the restoration of the second common- 
 wealth, and from which also Hillel, another rejuvenator of 
 Judaism, had emigrated into Palestine to apply his fresh force 
 to its revival. There we meet fast flourishing schools at 
 Nehardea, Sora, Pumbeditha, and in many other places, 
 schools that did not teach what they had received only, in 
 the manner as it was wretchedly carried on yet for awhile in 
 Palestine, but which took hold of their task with a fresh and 
 live spirit. Heretofore we have mentioned the important 
 words pronounced by a teacher there: He that emigrates 
 from Babylonia to Palestine, commits a sin and transgresses 
 God's command. Palestine, which was regarded as the holy 
 land, whose soil was venerated as a holy one, which was 
 looked upon as endowed with a certain sanctity — to migrate 
 
The Babylonian Schools 241 
 
 into that land from Babylonia should be prohibited? They 
 felt the new spirit within themselves, felt themselves at home 
 in a vigorous country in which endeavor could develop 
 untrammeled. Here was the only empire into which the 
 power of the Romans did not reach; the rough hand of the 
 Parthians had opened a refuge for the Jews the like of which 
 they hardly found in the remaining civilized world of that 
 time. There were some romantics who looked toward 
 Palestine with fond longing. It is told of such a one that he 
 secretly withdrew from his teacher and fasted forty days, in 
 order to forget the fresh manner and doctrine of Babylon and 
 get used to the more sober and stunted ways of Palestine; 
 fast days were scarcely necessary for him, because his desire 
 indicates that the right spirit had departed from him. Bui 
 those were exceptions, few and far between. The fresh spiri*- 
 which moved about there, penetrated the scholars and 
 invigorated them. 
 
 At any rate, life was not outside of the present. Many 
 a thing was felt missing, many earnest hopes had to be deferred 
 to a distant future, yet they did not so completely efface the 
 present as it had become the custom on leaving Palestine, 
 While in that country they dreamed themselves into the pasi 
 and could picture the future only in order to restore the past 
 in ideal form, a future which could not grow out of the natural 
 course of development, they had in Babylonia a healthier 
 realism. Between this world and the days of the Messiah, 
 said a teacher there, there is no further difference than the 
 pressure of the nations; the world will go on, the pressure only 
 will cease; it is the same development, the same order of the 
 state, only freedom enters with her reviving breath. While 
 they in Palestine regarded the entire government of the time, 
 as it ruled outside of Israel and pressed upon it, as illegitimate; 
 while they recognized no verdict coming from that govern- 
 ment machinery as legal because emanating from an illegiti- 
 mate power and even put up as doctrine that it was only 
 permissible to ask a Jewish court for a verdict and that any 
 other should be rejected, even if the court decided according 
 to the same principles: they taught in Babylonia that the 
 
242 Judaism and Its History 
 
 law of the state, because founded on legitimate principles, was 
 effective and legitimate and had religious validity. Such 
 thoughts flow from a view which adjudges to the present its 
 right and knows how to esteem it. Sayings along such lines 
 are reported chiefly of a teacher Samuel, and he is also de- 
 scribed as a patron of science. He is said to have been a 
 physician, and learned in mathematics and astronomy. To 
 him is attributed the saying: "The paths of the heavens are 
 as familiar to me as the streets of Nehardea." We do not 
 want to take that too literally and examine into the exact 
 truth of the statement, but it shows to us at any rate, that 
 science was studied there, and if that is especially true of 
 astronomy, the reason is in its close connection with the fixing 
 of the festivals. 
 
 For here again we meet a point which reveals the inde- 
 pendence of Babylonia in a noteworthy manner. To keep 
 the festivals according to their traditionally-fixed time, is 
 something upon which every religious association places great 
 importance. Many controversies were carried on in the early 
 Christian times about the day on which Easter should be 
 celebrated, one side insisting on the fifteenth day of Nissan, 
 and the other side on the following Sunday. Great schisms 
 followed out of it, and at the most various periods the dispute 
 about the celebration of holidays has separated more than 
 inner differences. In Israel, it was formerly the custom to 
 send messengers out upon the high mountains to look for the 
 new moon, and then when its appearance had been proven 
 by their testimony, the beginning of the month, and accord- 
 ingly the festivals occurring therein, were fixed by the courts, 
 and runners of the court announced the decision to the 
 inhabitants all around. The influence of Palestine became 
 weaker, the ties looser, the want was felt to get out of de- 
 pendence on Palestine and to order the festivals in a definite 
 manner. That requires great resolution, to arrange a new 
 order of fixing the religious festivals and to depart from the 
 old proceeding of consulting the visible, natural phenomenon 
 as it had been believed to be ordained in the letter of the 
 Scripture and to bear the seal of divinity. Such an under- 
 
The Babylonian Schools 243 
 
 taking can arise only out of a fresh living time, and it was 
 accomplished then. Its beginnings are hidden from us; it 
 suddenly stands before us, a definite calendar is ordained so 
 that the festivals are ordered according to fixed calculation, 
 without having to observe the appearance of the new moon. 
 With the acceptance of that ordinance, many consequences 
 of the old proceeding fell into disuse. In the olden times, 
 new year often had to be celebrated two days, because they 
 did not know whether the new moon had actually appeared, 
 and often the second day was the correct one. Those who 
 resided far away and learned of the announcement of the 
 appearance of the new moon only towards the middle of the 
 month, could not know the day decided on in Jerusalem, and 
 had to keep other holidays for two days. With a fixed 
 calendar, all doubts disappeared, and the reason for a two 
 days* celebration existed no longer. The two days for the 
 new year were retained. For, said they, when the Temple is 
 rebuilt, the former regulations about observing the appear- 
 ance of the new moon will be restored, and then the cases 
 when two days have to be kept will occur again, and therefore 
 it is better to leave it in this way. But for the other holidays, 
 they felt a two days' celebration to be unnecessary. Yet from 
 Palestine a message came: "Hold fast to the custom of 
 your fathers." Palestine felt itself injured by a transforma- 
 tion of the former regulation. 
 
 Thus in Babylonia a new order had arisen; and not 
 enough, that calculation had taken the place of seeing the 
 new moon. They shifted in some cases the day of the festival 
 out and out. It was considered burdensome to have sabbath - 
 and a day of atonement follow each other, that the day of 
 atonement should be on a Friday or a Sunday, as had often ^ 
 happened before, and is expressly shown in the Mishnah. 
 To keep two such important rest days and holidays in suc- 
 cession interfered with all conditions of life; and to prevent 
 that, it was ordained that new year should not be celebrated 
 on Wednesday or Friday; the day was shifted if it should 
 happen to fall on one of those days according to the calcula- 
 tion of the moon's course. It was a bold interference, the 
 
244 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ordinance cut deep into the arrangements which had till then 
 been valid, but it carried, and became the rule for all time. 
 
 In other ways they showed their independence of Palestine. 
 In Palestine, winter is the rainy season, and for this rainy 
 season there is in the prayer-book a fixed formula: "Give 
 dew and rain for a blessing." In Palestine this rainy season 
 begins in the first half of Marcheshvan, in November. But 
 Babylonia has a different climate. The rainy season begins 
 a month later, sixty days after the sun crosses the line in 
 Tishri. **We pray for ourselves,'* said the Babylonians, 
 "not for Palestine, for the right kind of winter and the 
 growth of vegetation in our own country." And without 
 hesitation, they ordered that the prayer should be made later. 
 Consider the difference between that vigorous time and the 
 periods of weakness following later. Then in Babylonia 
 shortly after their removal from the soil of Palestine when 
 the wound of its loss was still bleeding, near the land which 
 still exerted great influence, they yet dared with decision to 
 break away in prayer from its forms, if they did not cor- 
 respond to the needs of their own country. The later time 
 stuck to the Babylonian order. We have no rainy season, 
 our seasons are quite different; but still we follow the Baby- 
 lonian ordinance and use the formula of prayer at the time 
 which was set for that country, with a show of fitness. Nor 
 do we follow the rule of Palestine, which would have some 
 justification m the mind of those who have their view upon 
 the holy land of the future. 
 
 In every way. Babylonia had become a spiritual world- 
 power. It had not completely emancipated itself from 
 Palestine, had continued in its spirit, but with independent 
 energy, with boldness and clear mind, so that its influence 
 upon the later time remained a lasting one. A healthy, here 
 and there, a rough realism ruled there, and the religious 
 expressions are sometimes rough and harsh, but never sickly 
 and weak. That rugged nature shows itself also in their tales 
 and legends which often are very sensual, yet at the same 
 time plastic, and proceed from a certain energy of life. Sound 
 nature reveals itself in the vigorous moral sense that breaks 
 
Gemara 245 
 
 through everywhere. Not only is every injustice reproved, 
 but every action, too, which might mislead anybody into 
 erroneous conception, even if that is not their intention. 
 For such, the pictorial expression is used: to commit theft 
 of the supposition of the other man. Desecration of the 
 divine name, it is called, when a man who enjoys high regard 
 as a teacher of religion, does not at once pay for his require- 
 ments and causes the appearance as if he would avoid doing 
 so. It was a life of solid core, even if the stuff appears rude 
 here and there. 
 
 Thus the schools flourished there for some time. Many a 
 new thing was developed, even if free science could not 
 succeed under the government of the Parthians. With all 
 externalism, a sharp, penetrating sense is revealed so that by 
 the collection of the local discussions Judaism was kept from 
 stagnation. That collection was joined to the Mishnah. 
 Yet, about the beginning of the sixth century, the schools 
 continued in their debates, a formal closing never took place, 
 but gloomy circumstances came in time and brought it about, 
 and all at once completion and inactivity arrived. The 
 Gemara — i. e., learning, completion, as that work which 
 joined the Mishnah was called — the Babylonian Talmud, as 
 the two works were named, was not closed; they closed of 
 themselves. The work was never formally voted on or 
 accepted, it gained validity and kept it until — a new spiritual, 
 equally vigorous power arises. A complete, free develop- 
 ment could not form itself in those times, but furrows were 
 drawn for later seeding, the soil was kept fresh, that it may 
 be filled with new germ. 
 
 In the meantime, the Roman empire had been moving 
 nearer its disintegration. Roman paganism, grown weak, 
 became at last persecution-mad in the consciousness of its 
 impotency; it decayed gradually and could not resist new 
 powers. Christianity in its mediation between paganism and 
 Judaism increased in importance and respect, overcame 
 crumbled paganism and mounted the throne. Even that 
 new force, ecclesiastical life, was not able to rejuvenate the 
 ageing Roman empire, so that it might have resisted the 
 
246 Judaism and Its History 
 
 approaching storms, it did not breathe into it a full, new 
 spirit which could have raised a dam against the floods. 
 When the floods of the migration of nations rolled over it, 
 all at once, the Roman empire broke down, barbarism flowed 
 over it, perhaps necessary barbarism to bring fresh, rugged 
 forces into the world. The Church was now the carrier of 
 the only wretched remains of culture as far as it permitted 
 it to be harbored. For Judaism, a hard, gloomy time had 
 come. In comparison with that, its members had formerly 
 only sipped at the cup of sorrows, now they were to empty 
 it to the lees. Even the rude nations did not put up as 
 violent resistance to Judaism, as now the councils of the 
 Church organized it. They prohibited every intercourse 
 with Jews; not only was marriage between them and the 
 members of the Christian Church forbidden under severe 
 penalties, but every tie of friendship, every intimate inter- 
 course is represented as leading to damnation and is warned 
 against. Thus the rudeness of the nations was paired with 
 the refined animosity of a religion which could not pardon 
 another for still existing and remaining among the living 
 while it asserted to have consumed it long ago. Thus it 
 seemed as if mankind would fall completely into barbarism. 
 Yet the spirit ot humanity never sleeps altogether; even if a 
 part flags, if it laboriously pants along here under difficulties 
 piled up to giant height, it rises elsewhere with unsuspected 
 energy. All at once, day breaks within a people which had 
 never been looked at and which until then had never been 
 noticed. A new factor entered humanity, and it carried the 
 light in the lead for several centuries — the Arabians. 
 
IV. 
 
 Islam. 
 
 At the beginning of the seventh century, the world seemed 
 in fact to have sunk into complete barbarism. Mental 
 drouth and emptiness everywhere ; nowhere a living fountain 
 which, flowing along, fertilizes anew. Ancient Greek and 
 Roman culture had almost completely perished ; in the Greek 
 empire, culture had shrunk together into narrow-minded for- 
 mality and courtly etiquette, and the very language, once so 
 beautiful and plastic, was barbarized. Ancient Roman 
 culture had long ago become pithless and was no longer 
 known by name. The Latin language, which still kept up as 
 the language of the scholars, could hardly be recognized if 
 tried by the measure of the old classics. In Christianity it 
 had come so far that the knowledge of the original languages 
 upon which the religion based itself and in which its holy 
 books were written, had altogether disappeared. Yet in the 
 third and fourth centuries, fathers of the church with learned 
 mind had looked for means to spread the knowledge of the 
 holy Scriptures and to effect understanding of them. Origines 
 had put together all Greek translations of the Hebrew bible 
 as they had been put forth by Jews after the Septuagint 
 translation; namely those of the second and third centuries 
 by Aquila, Symmachus, and Theodotion, in order to effect 
 in that way a more correct comprehension of the text of the 
 bible, and we now owe to his endeavor the knowledge of those 
 valuable remains of antiquity, even if in sorry fragments, as 
 far as the crushing ignorance has not destroyed them. Jerome 
 had undertaken to correct, according to recent Jewish investi- 
 gations, the old Latin translation as it had come out of the 
 Greek of the Septuagint, and contained a mass of errors, and 
 to make a new Latin translation. He was, after much 
 resistance, followed by the Christian church, and the Latin 
 
248 Judaism and Its History 
 
 translation which even now is canonical with Catholics and 
 is regarded as the only valid one, the so-called Vulgata, rests 
 mainly on the corrected comprehension received by Jerome 
 from Jews, according to original Hebrew text. That hap- 
 pened in the third and fourth centuries. In the meantime 
 the knowledge of the ancient languages disappeared entirely, 
 and naturally the Scriptures too, lost all consideration — there 
 was drouth and sterility. 
 
 In Judaism also, the last creative force, which had not 
 rejuvenated, but yet worked with independence, those 
 Babylonian schools which in the consciousness of their energy, 
 influenced deeply and transformed, it also was dried up. 
 The Parthian empire fell, and with its vigor the flower of the 
 Babylonian schools went down — here too, gloomy silence 
 soon covers everything. From the beginning of the seventh 
 century, hardly a sound penetrates to us; at most that per- 
 haps in Palestine an after-growth of legend-work ventured out 
 which perhaps belongs to this time and may belong to a later 
 one. Now a new phenomenon arises, original energy sud- 
 denly steps out among a people which till then had not been 
 gifted by culture and which lived on its separate soil unfettered 
 in isolated tribes. Islam arose. 
 
 The rise and course of Islam is one of the most instructive 
 world-historical phenomena, if we do not permit our receptive- 
 ness to be dimmed f®r esteeming, without bias, historical 
 events according to their true value. Since the cry, "The 
 Turk breaks forth," no longer brings fright and confusion 
 into the mind, since the Turk has been confined within his 
 borders, men have in general passed on to the regular order 
 of business. They believe that Islam is really existing only 
 by the grace of Christianity, that it is a sick man whose dis- 
 solution may be expected at any moment, whose life is pre- 
 served but artificially, and that only the mutual jealousy of 
 the Christian powers prolongs that artificial life and keeps it 
 from expiring, as the faith is anyway in mortal sickness. 
 With that conception, the present believes itself also absolved 
 from a deeper consideration of the former importance of 
 Islam. But if such judgment about the present condition of 
 
Islam 249 
 
 Islam is one-sided and superficial, if the remarkable forces of 
 life that are yet working within, even when they do not press 
 so violently to the surface, are underestimated, such small 
 consideration of its past is a gross mistake of an important 
 historical power. 
 
 Six centuries had elapsed since a new religion had arisen. 
 It had then full possession of the most powerful kingdoms of 
 the world, had absorbed the saps of the entire ancient cul- 
 tured world and spread to great distances. Now arises again 
 a new religion in a cultureless people, runs a victorious race 
 almost through the whole known world, takes the best and 
 finest provinces of the Greek empire, spreads over Africa, 
 takes possession of fine countries in Europe (Sicily, Southern 
 Italy, Spain, and for awhile the southern part of France), and 
 remains for a long time a very dangerous enemy of Europe 
 and Christianity, becomes a feared power which for centuries 
 has the decision of the world's affairs in its hands, and even 
 when the original carrier of this faith grows weary and sinks 
 down, a wild and for culture unreceptive tribe arises and 
 freshens up the declining empire. The Ottomans came, and 
 not only that, they offer a new stronghold, they destroy the 
 last remains of the Greek empire, the old homestead of 
 Christianity. Constantinople falls into their hands, and for 
 centuries more, they stand as a threatening power. For a 
 thousand years Islam rules over a large part of the globe, and 
 still to-day counts its professors by millions. And not only 
 that it rules and shows power, but during a great portion of 
 that thousand years, it carries the torch of science at the 
 head, culture proceeds from it, it is the refreshing fountain 
 that prevents the spirits from going to sleep and drying up. 
 That is certainly a grand and remarkable phenomenon. 
 
 Necessarily that religion must contain truths which helped 
 it to so quick and long-enduring victory. But not the truths 
 alone which it proclaimed, which were not even new, prepare 
 that triumph, but rather that those truths were expressed in 
 a form fitting the times and the people among whom they 
 were spread; that was what gave to Islam such great ascen- 
 dency. Islam proclaims truths which, of course, it has not 
 
250 Judaism and Its History 
 
 created, with all energy, and they conducted the convictions 
 to it indeed. The unity of God and the impossibility of 
 representing Him by pictures is its emblem, the doctrine 
 which it sustains with all decision, and every stunting of that 
 idea is an abomination to it. That truth marched victori- 
 ously in advance of its sword and tied the power to its colors. 
 Still another circumstance lent to Islam high meaning. It 
 met the sickliness of the Middle Ages with a healthy feeling 
 of the present. Islam had no ideal of the past toward which 
 it was striving. It had no weakly longing to mirror only 
 conditions as they had once existed ; it lived in the immediate 
 present and worked to use and enliven that. The healthiness 
 of its essence gave it a real power in the world's history, 
 and enabled it to pour forth encouragement for the unfolding 
 of the living forces while they were long wasted elsewhere in 
 sickliness. And also the defects and weaknesses even which 
 Islam carried within itself, because they belonged to' the time, 
 because they fitted the people among whom it spread, even 
 they were in the same degree, cause and assurance of its quick 
 acceptance. 
 
 Islam recognizes in God, the one, the unrepresentable. It 
 recognizes in Him the only power, the only ruler, besides 
 whom no one can exist, besides whom nothing may be 
 esteemed, it worships in God the almighty one. God is 
 great, God is almighty; that is the exclamation to which it 
 always returns with true monotony. But it does not also at 
 the same time proclaim the holiness and purity with which 
 He rises over all evil; that deeper recognition of the moral 
 essence as ideal, of which the divine must be recognized, is 
 missing from the whole elaboration of its doctrine in the 
 multiple praises of the Koran as well as in the later writings. 
 A deeper view into the moral order of the world, into the moral 
 progress which proceeds from the fountain of all purity, is 
 not found in Islam. There is hardly a word for ''holy" in 
 the Arabian language. It is true, Mohammed uses the 
 designation "merciful" of God and it is well known that most 
 suras of the Koran begin with the superscription, *'In the 
 name of God the merciful." But just that expression, 
 
Islam 251 
 
 " merciful" (rachman), he borrowed from Judaism; the word 
 and the idea did not arise in and were not born of the Arabian 
 spirit, but they were called and taken over from the source 
 out of which it has drawn so much. Mohammed uses a word 
 that had become customary with the Babylonian Jews who 
 formulated "the Merciful One (rachmana) says" instead of the 
 former expression, "the Scripture says." To such an extent 
 had that become the usual expression for God. Yet, while 
 Mohammed gladly adopted that word out of his Jewish 
 environment and wanted to put it also at the head of his 
 system, he found decided opposition to the designation; it 
 remained simply Koranic, the people exchanged it for another 
 one which means *' Ruler " or "Lord of all." The deeper moral 
 insight is lacking in Islam, as the Arabians themselves lacked 
 it; man according to his higher worth, according to the deeper 
 significance of his being, does not receive his full rights in 
 Islam. "God is great," Islam, surrender to Him, complete 
 surrender y without question, without making any claim for 
 oneself, to expunge oneself in a measure while God alone rules: 
 that is the whole inner core of Islam. That man carries some- 
 thing of the divine within him ; that he has to furnish his share 
 for the ennobling of the world ; that he is the crown of creation 
 according to his full spiritual and moral perception — that is 
 an idea which did not reach full consciousness in Islam. 
 Dull resignation is the highest and best that man can offer 
 and with which he can worship God — the true fatherhood of 
 God and sonship of man which is so beautifully expressed in 
 Judaism and which the daughter-religion has adopted from 
 it, is something foreign and unknown in Islam. 
 
 The real worth of man, according to its true significance, 
 has never been recognized within the Arabian people. 
 Every vigorous people forms out of itself a solid core which 
 constitutes, not dependent upon the accidents of events, an 
 almost unchangeable center around which the whole groups 
 itself. The best ancient and modern nations had worked 
 out of themselves such a core, old generations, families that 
 carried their importance within themselves by merit in- 
 herited from father to son, who conceived their duties and 
 
252 Judaism and Its History 
 
 requirements from their own worth, and who well recognized 
 what task was incumbent upon them just on account of their 
 social position. Such a patriciate, such an aristocracy, if it 
 does not become fossilized, if it does not become submerged 
 by vain pomp and claims of privileges, is such a concentra- 
 tion of the best and worthiest, and if it is freshened up by 
 reception of new and healthy forces and thereby preserves 
 its youth, forms the moral foundation of a people. It is 
 found in all nations that have obtained world-historic im- 
 portance. Greeks, Romans, Jews, and the more modern 
 European nations show such a center within the people, 
 which does not completely lose its worth, even when the 
 power has been wrested out of its hands. On the contrary^ 
 people among whom even the hint of an arbitrary despot or 
 the rumbling tramp of the mob commands, where the momen- 
 tary capricious favor raises and again casts down into in- 
 significance, are like heaps thrown together, now extending 
 far, and again scattered apart. Such was the peculiarity of 
 the people to whom Islam was brought hrst. Personal 
 dignity of man did not exist among those people according 
 to its full recognition, and thus Islam, which also denies it, 
 and forces it to the rear, was particularly fitting to those 
 nations. During the ninth and tenth centuries, there arose 
 among the Arabians a school of philosophers who were not 
 considered orthodox and were looked upon with suspicion; 
 they were called Brothers of Purity. They made many 
 scientific investigations, important for that time, and among 
 other things there has come down from them a presentation 
 of the dispute between man and the animals. The animals 
 complain that man has subjugated them in an arbitrary 
 manner and the verdict is in favor of the animals. The 
 advantage of man above the animal, which is of course given 
 through his reason and which he can not shake off, is not 
 recognized according to its true justification because the 
 moral element is beyond the horizon and not considered. 
 
 Those are dark sides of Islam, a germ of disease which was 
 in it from the very beginning and necessarily contributed to 
 its degeneration and enfeeblement. But for just that reason 
 
Mohammed 253 
 
 it was fitted to the taste of the people to whom it was brought. 
 The religion of Islam spread because it was in the disposition 
 of the people whom it was to rule. The disposition of the 
 people, the peculiarity of the conditions of the time it is — 
 and that is a great lesson we draw from Islam, its rise and 
 acquisition of power — what introduces a religion into life and 
 preserves it therein for a long time. The man who under- 
 stands it to be the exponent of the mood of the time and the 
 people, who comprehends how to wrap a general truth into 
 the fitting garment, fitting in the eyes of the men who are to 
 accept it, that man is the bearer of an idea shaped in keeping 
 with the time, and he succeeds in his endeavors. Mohammed, 
 the founder of Islam, was such a man. The religion spread 
 so fast in Mohammed's lifetime that we are tempted to 
 attribute to him all merit and all significance. When any- 
 where, in any religion from its eflfects a conclusion upon the 
 dignity of the founder is justified, it should be thought to 
 be the case in Islam. Mohammed created all, in his lifetime 
 Islam was already a victorious power, he himself is the author 
 of the holy book which, if he does not write it himself, he 
 yet dictates to be written. The saying, "There is no God but 
 Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet,'* has remained from 
 the very beginning of Islam until the present day the confes- 
 sion of faith by which it is accepted, Mohammed is accord- 
 ingly the true and full exponent of Islam. If Islam has, what 
 can not be disputed, obtained high importance, it should be 
 thought that its founder must have been a man that towered 
 above the ordinary stature of men. And yet, Mohammed 
 was not a great man. He was not a mind that, mastering 
 and subjugating, makes the others bow before him. He was 
 not one who, by his own importance, finds easy acceptance 
 by the intelligent and studious, not one who, by his luminous 
 ray, puts others into the shade. He was not a great man, 
 had not the moral superiority, that silent grandeur to chain 
 the minds to him. Mohammed was ignorant; he did not 
 excel by any superiority of mind. Mohammed was a slave 
 to his passions and to sensual greed in every way. No traits 
 of moral nobilit)^, of deeper sentiment, are related of him.. 
 
254 Judaism and Its History 
 
 The Arabians are naive enough that they present his char- 
 acter to us in its entire nakedness, without adornment and 
 paint. Nobody, free from bias, will count Mohammed 
 among heroes. With this judgment those also agree who 
 turn with preference to Arabian studies and ideas and are 
 not influenced by any religious prejudice, and it suffices if, 
 instead of other witnesses, I quote the words of a thorough 
 and competent investigator. Sprenger (Moh. I, 313) says: 
 "Burning enthusiasm, paired with low cunning, pure sacrifice 
 for a higher aim with mean selfishness, indulgence, even 
 dependence upon others, with obstinacy, devotion with 
 treachery; those are a few of the contradictory psychic 
 qualities of Mohammed's character.'* And yet he is founder 
 of a religion which has exerted such a powerful influence and 
 has it yet. He is that, because he received the truth as it 
 lay in the disposition of his people at the time ; because, filled 
 with it, he served it, and thus he became a benefactor of 
 mankind. 
 
 He received those truths; he was not their creator, he 
 simply took them over out of Judaism. The rise of Islam 
 reveals to us a fragment of Jewish history which would have 
 remained entirely hidden from us, without it. The Jews of 
 that country exerted no particular influence upon the inner 
 development of Judaism as a whole; situated away off in a 
 corner, without higher culture mentally, without learned 
 knowledge of the law, knowing particulars only by con- 
 nection with the territories which were the homes of higher 
 culture among the Jews, they went to the rear, their whole 
 life and existence remained out of sight. We get a knowledge 
 of them only through Islam and the history of its rise. Jews 
 were spread throughout Arabia from ancient time. When 
 they first entered it, cannot be accurately determined. And, 
 if we can not yet accord the right of historic facts to recent 
 suppositions which want to put them back into earliest times 
 and make them part of the original population of Arabia, so 
 much is certain: the Jewish population of Arabia was spread 
 in great extent through the whole country during the first 
 Christian centuries. From the sixth century, we hear of 
 
The Jews in Arabia 255 
 
 powerful Jewish kings who have ruled in Southern Arabia, 
 in Yemen, with courage and power, and spread Judaism afar. 
 Their empire is destroyed by Christian Ethiopian kings, but 
 it had impressed its memories deep into the whole Arabian 
 existence. But in Arabia proper, too, in the northern part, 
 where the new religion arose, there were numerous Jewish 
 tribes who carried the complete Arabian characteristics. 
 They move about independent, raise cattle, and carry on less 
 agriculture, because the fertile soil offers of itself sufficient for 
 their few wants. They carry on frequent bloody feuds among 
 themselves and with their neighbors, and gather again in a 
 common city, which is the meeting-place for barter, sale, and 
 exchange, mainly in the Arabian city Jethrab, which later 
 was called Medina, or in full, Medinath al Nabi. They were 
 Arabian tribes with Arabian peculiarities, but at the same 
 time with complete devotion to the faith of their fathers. I 
 will present one man as example ; he may bear witness for the 
 ideas which ruled among those tribes, particularly in the 
 better part of them. At the beginning of the sixth century, 
 Samual Ben Adija was living in a strong castle on Ablak in 
 Taima. Samual — Arabian for Samuel — was a prince of far 
 fame in his part of the country. Mockingly, some fault- 
 finding voices pointed to the insignificance of the Jewish 
 tribes, to the small number of the entire Jewish nation. 
 With manly pride, he meets the fault-finder in a song — for, 
 like all Arabs, he was fond of poetry and song: 
 
 "If a man's honor is unspotted by disgrace, 
 Any garment that covers him is well-becoming. 
 Courageously his soul attempts the difficult, 
 Else his course is not directed toward fame. 
 They reproach: Our people's number is but small, 
 I say: Few are the noble ones everywhere. 
 A troop is not insignificant that knows to stand 
 As we do, striving for the best, youth as well as age. 
 What matters that but few we are, yet with us is honored 
 The refugee who, with the many, is often injured. 
 Ours is a mount that shields the friend in our protection, 
 Unscalable, it bids defy to coward eye, 
 
256 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Its foot fast rooted in the ground, up to the stars 
 Unattainable, its high, rock-front carries him." 
 
 A refugee is here mentioned, who is in his castle protected, 
 even honored. He does not unjustly claim the glory of 
 hospitality, that particular virtue of the Arabians toward him 
 who entrusts himself to the house, to protect him with entire 
 faith and devotion ; he proves it in his life. He is a friend of 
 Amrulkais Ben Hodohr of the tribe of Kend. This friend is 
 driven from power and home; to regain it, he seeks assistance 
 at the Greek imperial court. Before he starts on his way he 
 entrusts his entire property, five valuable suits of armor to 
 his friend Samual. Amrulkais has no success at the imperial 
 court, and dies soon thereafter. Then Alhareth, an enemy of 
 Amrulkais, appears before the castle and demands the surren- 
 der of the armor. Samual refuses and Alhareth, lays siege to 
 the castle. It resists his wild attacks. One day the slave 
 nurse walks outside with the youngest child of Samual; 
 Alhareth captures her and sends to the besieged a threat that 
 he will kill the child if his enemy's armor is not handed over 
 to him. Samual hesitates a moment, but only a moment; 
 then he speaks: ** I can not surrender the armor and be faith- 
 less to my trust: Do as you like to do. Treachery is a collar 
 that does not rust. My boy has brothers." 
 
 He does not hand over the armor, the child is murdered, 
 but Alhareth is obliged to raise the siege. Again voices speak 
 with blame on Samual's action, but he replies: 
 
 "Faultfinder, cease blaming the man 
 Whom you have often seen defying blame. 
 You should, if I am in error, put me on the right road, 
 Not make me err by words without understanding. 
 I have kept the armor of the man of the Kend. 
 Another may betray what is entrusted to him ! 
 Adija, my father, long ago advised me: 
 Oh tear not down, Samual, what I have built! 
 He strongly built the fort for me in which 
 I did not fear to defy the besieger." 
 
 Asha, a poet of that time, glorifies Samual for it, and puts 
 him forth as a pattern; 
 
Samual Ben Adija 257 
 
 "Be like Samual, when the warrior prince 
 Pressed hard against him with all his might; 
 Stand between loss of child and treachery ! 
 A bad choice which has to be selected, 
 But he spoke with quick decision : 
 Thou mayst murder thy captive, I shield my guest." 
 
 That such a man had to stand up in many a feud is 
 natural, but he did not lose heart, and said: 
 
 "When doubtful and precarious stand affairs, 
 When thinking of the outcome makes one fear. 
 When narrow buckled armor almost breaks the chest, 
 When weak ones turn, unfaithful to their brethren. 
 Then do I avoid what to my weakness is the easier. 
 And act what helps to shield my honor." 
 
 And when near his end, he said: 
 
 "Would like to know, when I am on my bier 
 What testimony the mourners will bear of me, 
 If they will say: Do not leave us, for from many 
 A plight thou didst find means to raise us. 
 Thou never couldst be kept from taking thy rights, 
 Nor was there need of admonishing thee to give them." 
 
 There was a picture of a proud Arabian Emir, who looks 
 with pride upon his valor and his sense of justice, upon his 
 faithfulness and his descent. Thus were the Jewish-Arabian 
 tribes of that time. And when Mohammed arose, we see a 
 great number of them, the Benu Kainoka, Benu Nadhir, Benu 
 Chaibar, and other more or less important ones as factors in 
 the history of Mohammed himself and in the course of events. 
 With a few individuals he had particularly intimate inter- 
 course, like that with Abdallah Ben Salam, Pinehas, and 
 others. From them he accepted the truths which he an- 
 nounced in the Koran, and they came into validity in Islam. 
 The unity of God and the impossibility of representing Him 
 by images, which form the basis of Islam, are taken over from 
 Judaism, and the entire presentation of its truths is a wholly 
 Jewish one. The principal religious ideas are borrowed from 
 Judaism with the Hebrew words: Shekinah, as the omni- 
 
258 Judaism and Its History 
 
 presence of God; Gan Eden as Paradise and reward of the 
 good ; Gehinnom as place of punishment of the wicked. And 
 many other comprehensive ideas with their words have 
 passed over from Judaism into Islam and the Arabian language 
 without their having there an independent root; they are 
 carried over bodily and complete. The entire presentation 
 which he gives to his doctrine is of Jewish coloring, and he 
 verifies and illustrates his doctrine by examples from the 
 Jewish bible and the Jewish history. He could not read the 
 bible, of course, but the intercourse he had with Jewish 
 tribes, made him familiar with its tales; he completely retains 
 the coloring of the biblical stories, the legendary ornamenta- 
 tion which Talmud and Midrash have wrapped around them, 
 and thus they are related in the Koran. 
 
 Thus Judaism, if not the mother of Islam as it is of Chris- 
 tianity, is yet its nurse that nourished it with her best forces, 
 yet its teacher that fitted out the pupil and raised him. Did 
 the fosterchild treat his nurse with kinder feeling than the 
 daughter showed to her mother? In the beginning it had 
 that appearance. At first, Mohammed courted the favor of 
 the Jews, did very much to please them, introduced, with a 
 view to gain them, the fast-day Ashura (that is, the fast-day 
 of the tenth of Tishri), he wanted to fix the Kiblah, the posi- 
 tion to be taken at prayer, instead of the Arabian custom 
 toward Mecca, toward Jerusalem, the holy city of the Jews. 
 Yet he found but a small number of followers among the 
 Jews, the greater portion could not be induced to do homage 
 to him as a prophet. And that was perfectly natural. There 
 was nothing new offered to them in his pretended revelations; 
 on the contrary, they did not find in the new religion the 
 rich treasures complete as they already had them. The 
 more Mohammed flattered the Jews, the more offended he 
 felt by the want of success of his condescension ; and he began 
 to persecute them as unbelievers. Violent and destructive 
 wars broke out, and every new victory of Islam made the 
 Jews feel its ascendancy the harder. The Koran recommends 
 tolerance to the Jews, Christians and Sabians — probably a 
 Christian sect of the time — as professors of the only God, 
 
Islam ^50 
 
 while idolators are to be destroyed. But the friendly, kindly 
 relation between Islam and Jerusalem was done away with. 
 Thus Islam enters without new creative impulse, rude and 
 poor in ideas, wild, and with stormy rattling of arms. A 
 pupil of Judaism in its religious views and sentiments, it soon 
 turns inimically against its spiritual conductor. And yet, 
 what breathes out of it is like fresh air. For Islam is not 
 like a sick old man who, feeling the wasting of his force, 
 watches the more jealously lest the power escape his hands, 
 who punishes the more hard-heartedly every attempt at 
 asserting one's own right as an invasion of his legitimate 
 power, who, mean and suspicious, permits no new idea to 
 sprout, and who spreads lingering sickliness in every direction. 
 No, Islam was like a youth in high spirits who boldly inter- 
 feres in the conditions, sometimes perhaps wasteful and 
 destructive, but from a superabundance of energy which after 
 all invigorates like a breath of fresh air. The living impulse, 
 too, of building and shaping, pulsates within it, rejuvenates 
 its entire surroundings, with new receptiveness it has also the 
 sound sense for nobleness and high-mindedness and rapidly 
 develops them. Islam spreads and at first esteems science 
 and culture but little. Omar is said to have burnt the 
 library at Alexandria with the remark: **If in these books 
 there is something else than in the Koran, they are idolatrous; 
 if they contain the same thing, they are superfluous.** But 
 hardly a century is past, and an ardent zeal arises among the 
 adherents of Islam for appropriating all culture and to turn 
 it over to the world newly invigorated. From the Syrian 
 pagans they receive the remains of Greek culture, the treasures 
 of the old wisdom; soon they are translated from the Syriac 
 into the Arabic, and newly rises culture in the Middle Ages. 
 The treasures of knowledge are again raised and are turned 
 to good account for Moslems as well as for those living among 
 them, and the entire Middle Ages are nourished at the 
 reopened source of supply. Thus Islam requites, even if not 
 with friendly, kind feeling, but yet by the new energy which 
 it pours forth, to Judaism what it has borrowed, and partly 
 amends the wrong done to it. 
 
V. 
 
 Karaites, Awakening of Science. 
 
 A century had passed away after the rise of the new 
 religion, Islam, and by force of arms it had conquered a great, 
 wide extent of territory, and mental culture had penetrated 
 deep into the mighty empire. The fresh youthfulness which 
 poured forth from the new faith and the young nation from 
 which it had proceeded, gave also to those inhabitants of the 
 extensive lands taken by Islam, even if they had not accepted 
 the new faith, greater liberty in civil conditions, refreshed 
 and elevated their spirits. The newly-incited scientific 
 endeavor penetrated powerfully also into the Jews who resided 
 in Arabia and the countries dependent upon it. In peculiar 
 manner this comes to the surface in a phenomenon which soon 
 faces us. A new schism arises in Judaism. About the year 
 750, Anan Ben David, claimed to be of the house of David, 
 comes forward and founds or confirms — as the old accounts 
 call it — Karaitism, a new name, which has not appeared in 
 history until then. 
 
 What is the essence of Karaitism? The Karaites reject 
 the ordinances of the Talmud and their tradition affirmed by 
 it, they cling more firmly to the letter of the Holy Scriptures. 
 Thence also the name: Karaites, Bene Mikra, sons of the 
 Scripture, disciples of the Scripture. What was the occasion 
 for this new schism? The rabbis say, "Anan had been a 
 learned but ambitious man ; he had tried to obtain the highest 
 dignities, wanted to be Chief of the Exile and the Academy, 
 but they had no confidence in him and had refused him; 
 driven on by his ambition, he then founded a renegade sect. 
 How little or how much truth may be at the bottom of that 
 account, this much is indisputable: one single man, be he 
 ever so important, be his mental power ever so superior and 
 his eloquence ever so overpowering, one single man gives no 
 
Karaites, Awakening of Science 261 
 
 tiew direction and founds no new sect; the entire time must 
 be fit for it. He can at most grasp the right moment, can 
 first and definitely pronounce the word which is at the lips 
 of all. Then a new direction is taken and a schism may 
 result, but it does not start from the one individual as its 
 original cause. We therefore ask again: What was the 
 occasion for the rise of Karaitism, for the defection of the 
 Karaites? Well, somebody may say, the ordinances of the 
 Talmud were oppressive, their burdens could no longer be 
 carried, it appeared unjustifiable in a freely stimulated time; 
 the interpretations, as they had been used to confirm those 
 ordinances, had gone too far away from the natural meaning 
 of Scripture. The intelligent and reasonable men could not 
 help seeing that the bolder ones came forward with contra- 
 dictions and when they could not convince the community, 
 they seceded. What a pity, might be perhaps added, that 
 such a healthy and sensible direction was not taken, that a 
 secession which arose eleven centuries ago and which rested 
 on sound principles, yet could not become victorious and 
 carry all with it. 
 
 Where we hear such mourning expressed about the course 
 of history, mourning about expected successes that never 
 came to pass, we may judge with certainty: History made 
 no mistake, we are in error in our conception of the matter; 
 the causes of which we regret that their expected effects did 
 not appear, had never existed at all. If the result does not 
 come out right, there must be an error in the figuring. Giving 
 such a judgment, it is forgotten that our consideration is only 
 in the middle of the eighth century when scientific movement 
 existed, when many endeavored to acquire knowledge, when 
 many a liberal idea dared to show itself, but it would be a 
 misjudgment of the time to suppose that the idea had been 
 so powerful that it formed a separate party and joined it 
 together into a separate religious association. Schisms in 
 religious life do not generally arise on the soil of science and 
 free investigation. Science is too conscious of its general 
 validity and of its task to take in and illuminate all mankind, 
 to make schisms and separate itself into a sect of its own. 
 
262 Judaism and Its History 
 
 It has too much the full confidence of gradually penetrating 
 into the lowest stratum, of casting the high light into the 
 deepest nook, to seclude itself into narrow confines. Never 
 diet a religious schism come out solely from the soil of science. 
 Only when pressure wants to bend down by force a direction 
 that claims its justification, when power will not permit it to 
 rise, and thus squeezes the band which has gathered around 
 the idea to the outside; when, in addition to that, heads of the 
 ruling religious direction show themselves unworthy and yet 
 make claim of sanctity, yet demand to be honored as legitimate 
 representatives of the sanctuary, when the conscience of the 
 people is grossly insulted so that they become indignant and 
 enraged, only then schisms enter. Toward that outcome 
 science may have prepared, may have co-operated by break- 
 ing a way for freedom of the mind and by working the new 
 faith into ordered, consistent and connected form. But from 
 free investigation schism never starts. The ruling Jewish 
 direction at that time had neither the power nor the will to 
 persecute; its representatives were plain and pious scholars. 
 Science was not suffering under repression and force, the 
 moral conscience was not offended by mockery and scorn. 
 Free investigation had no occasion to unfurl a flag of its own 
 for its disciples in order to join them into a separate body. 
 Nor are the Karaites the advocates of progress or the 
 representatives of liberal ideas. The Karaites — to state it 
 briefly — are the corporeal and spiritual posterity of the 
 Sadducees; they are the antiquaries of that time, although 
 by force of peculiar circumstances many a bright ray illumi- 
 nates them and many a fresh thought comes forth out of 
 them. We have lost sight of the Sadducees ; let us again look 
 back at them. Their permanency had ceased with the 
 destruction of the Temple. They had once been the priests, 
 the nobility, the ruling class joined to sacrificial service and 
 Temple, to offices and administration. All that was thrown 
 down at one blow. The Sadducees had been crowded 
 toward the rear in many ways by the spiritual energy of the 
 Pharisees during the existence of the second Temple. Yet a 
 great and powerful party does not come to an end at once. 
 
Karaites, Awakening of Science 263 
 
 We hear their name resound in later centuries. The Tal- 
 mudical writings speak of them unwillingly. And, though 
 they intentionally omit them, they could surely tell us more 
 about them than they do in their scanty accounts where the 
 name of the Sadducees often crops out, after all. Sacrificial 
 worship and service had disappeared, the Temple existed no 
 more, but differences as they existed in practice and life 
 between Sadducees and Pharisees, differences in customs and 
 ordinances did not cease altogether. The descendants of the 
 Sadducees had kept them up quite seriously among themselves. 
 They had no literary life by which they might refresh them- 
 selves, but they vegetated on, unnoticed, for several centuries. 
 
 They may have undergone some transformations, par- 
 ticularly relative to one point that was more mental and did 
 not enter practical life. The hopes of the future had formed 
 one point of dispute between Sadducees and Pharisees. 
 While the latter recognized the resurrection of the dead and 
 longed for a new time in which they would take part them- 
 selves, expecting an invigoration of the state and the nation 
 and the whole religious existence, the Sadducees rejected it. 
 They did not ask that conditions should undergo a transfor- 
 mation, they did not live in the future, the present was satis- 
 factory, and good enough for them. But matters had 
 changed greatly. The present was no longer joyful to the 
 Sadducees ; on the contrary they, as descendants of the Patri- 
 ciate, of the ruling class, must feel it especially deeply and 
 painfully that they had dropped from their former height. 
 They must now, too, nourish the hope of a new future with 
 a restoration of the old, brilliant conditions and surrender 
 their protest against the resurrection. Thus some other 
 transformations may have happened. In still, quiet times, 
 when thought is not quickened and stimulated, many demar- 
 cations disappear without their being noticed, and there 
 arises, even if not an approach, yet a grinding away of con- 
 trasts. That probably happened in the case of the Sad- 
 ducees, and centuries pass while they live in their own circle 
 without coming forth. 
 
 Then, at one stroke, a new time enters, a fresh breath 
 
264 Judaism and Its History 
 
 draws through them, it is as if the stiff limbs quiver, as if a 
 spirit were to enter the dead bones to revive them. Even 
 the scattered and wasting remnant feels the need to gather 
 themselves for preservation from total disappearance, liberty 
 gives them room and occasion. The convictions of every- 
 body are respected. We learn from dark, fragmentary 
 accounts that the calif expressly gives the Karaites permission 
 to constitute themselves into a sect. The desire to rouse 
 themselves into their ancient peculiarity had grown strong. 
 The name Sadducees had, of course, become disreputable; 
 the recollection of their variations, though many had dis- 
 appeared, was still alive. Besides, it was in the time, that 
 new names came in with almost every century, and new 
 conditions are indicated by them. The teachers of the time 
 of the Mishnah were called Tannaim, the teachers; those of 
 the Gemara, Amoraim, the speakers; then followed the 
 Saboraim, the givers of opinions; and then came the Geonim, 
 a pompous name, probably come in with the Arabians, the 
 Excellencies — names designating the heads of the schools as 
 they were given under the different conditions. Thus it is 
 not astonishing that the Sadducees, too, took a new name, 
 because they did not want to be the same in all matters of 
 faith, but yet desired to preserve their principles in practical 
 life. As it historically appears, they were at first called 
 Ananites after the name of their founder. Together with the 
 adoption of many variations from the opinions of Anan, the 
 name of Karaites was gradually accepted for general use. 
 
 The Karaites are spiritual and corporeal descendants of 
 the Sadducees, The same postulates as we in part know 
 them completely from the fragmentary accounts of the latter 
 and in part can reconstruct them, are again found with the 
 Karaites but with a certain accentuation and more decided 
 consistency which then again weakens in the course of time. 
 The Sadducees had attributed decided importance to sac- 
 rifices; the Karaites of course could no longer do that, for 
 sacrificial service had ceased with the destruction of the 
 Temple. But after its loss, individuals who were close to the 
 principles of the Sadducees, arose and said, *'From now on, 
 
Karaites 265 
 
 we may not use meat nor wine for of both a certain amount 
 must be given as dues to the Temple and as that can not be 
 done while the altar is lacking, the use of meat and wine is 
 prohibited." The Pharisees opposed that and won the 
 victory. With the very appearance of the Karaites, we hear 
 that they prohibit the use of meat while in exile. Of course, 
 the prohibition does not last long. In the course of centuries 
 it disappears, but just at first when the time next reveals the 
 historic impulse, it comes forth with marked decision. But 
 even then, when that decision weakened and the insistence 
 on the Temple service slackened, we find that they observe 
 the rabbinical regulations for the killing of cattle, with great 
 severity and even go beyond them. How do they arrive at 
 that? They who consulted the letter of the bible, found no 
 indication of regulations for killing which have their founda- 
 tion only in the Talmudical tradition and interpretation. 
 But evidently the entire proceeding of ritual killing is taken 
 from the custom in use by the priests at the killing of the 
 sacrificed animals. It was a real Sadducean custom that 
 came into use at their public repasts and which the Pharisees 
 adopted in their struggle for priestly consecration. Of course 
 the Karaites had to adjudge such regulations as obligatory. 
 On the other side, it would have been natural with a schism 
 just then appearing, to retain the element of religious life, 
 the divine worship with its corresponding forms which, 
 though not ordered by the bible, yet had sufficient warrant 
 in it and had grown to fill a want of the whole community. 
 But it does not suit the Karaites. They can not object to 
 divine service and prayer; but they rejected the quickening, 
 inspiring part of the accepted forms, and put together a few 
 scanty, disconnected verses of the bible, dry and cold in that 
 arrangement. That was because they had kept away from 
 the labors of the Pharisees for such divine worship, and it 
 had never become a living element with them. But cleanness 
 and uncleanness were upheld with minute exactness by all 
 classes who either were of the priesthood or considered them- 
 selves close to it. The Pharisees gradually modified and 
 alleviated those regulations, and when the Temple went 
 
266 Judaism and Its History 
 
 down, they departed from them to a very great extent and 
 considered them inapplicable. The Karaites hold to them 
 with tenacity in all their severity. In relation to prohibition 
 of certain parts of the fat and the use which might be made 
 of the meat of cattle that were not killed according to the 
 regulations, there were disputes between the Sadducees and 
 the Pharisees which were completely inherited by the Karaites 
 without the letter of the Scripture indicating any decision in 
 favor of either party. 
 
 In many customs relating to the sabbath and the holidays, 
 Sadducees and Pharisees differed widely; the Sadducean usage 
 being more severe and gloomy, although they may not have 
 held such severity obligatory on themselves and their priestly 
 functions, the Pharisean rules being to alleviate in many 
 cases. Thus the Pharisees placed great importance upon 
 consecrating the sabbath with bright illumination, which is 
 sensible and fit. But they insisted so much more strongly 
 and attributed special value to the sabbath lights because the 
 Sadducees asserted that the verse, "Ye shall kindle no fire 
 in your dwellings on the sabbath day,'* prohibited not only 
 the kindling but also the burning of fire or lights. The 
 Karaites followed blindly after the Sadducees and carried on 
 a bitter fight with the Rabbinites about their using, on the 
 sabbath, the lamps which had been lit before. The Pharisees 
 endeavored to make the ordinances conform to the needs of 
 actual life, often against the literal meaning of the Scripture. 
 The verse, *'No one shall go from his place on the seventh 
 day,'* had formerly been interpreted that only very short 
 journeys were permitted on the sabbath and in like manner the 
 carrying of any burden outside of the house had been strictly 
 prohibited. The Pharisees managed to increase the distance by 
 fictitious joining of the spaces and to extend the "house" within 
 which things might be carried, by the "Erub," an alleviation 
 which of course rested on a legal fiction but which was proper for 
 the needs of the people. The Sadducees disputed the matter; 
 and the Karaites followed and abused the Rabbinites — as the 
 Pharisees were called from this time, as followers of the rabbis 
 (teachers) — for daring to get around the ordinances by cunning. 
 
Karaites 267 
 
 The Sadducees, or at least a part of them, the Boethusians, 
 asserted that the feast of weeks (Shabuoth) should be cele- 
 brated on Sunday, not seven weeks after Passover. The 
 Pharisees oppose that with all decision ; they even arrange the 
 counting of the days from Passover until the feast of weeks 
 so that each day there was specially pronounced: This is 
 the day of such number, not another day, as the Boethusians 
 claim. The Karaites follow the Boethusians and decide that 
 the feast of weeks must be celebrated on Sunday. But in 
 the meantime, as already mentioned, the divergence had been 
 aggravated and extended over the whole calendar. The 
 calendar had been fixed according to new principles in Baby- 
 lonia, no longer dependent upon the actual visibility of the 
 new moon, but according to calculation with the addition of 
 some regulations demanded by practical life. New moons 
 and festivals were fixed for all time without the necessity of 
 sending out messengers to observe the appearance of the moon. 
 Scripture gives no indication how new moons should be 
 appointed, calculating them found no objection in Scripture. 
 But it was not in use in olden time from which the custom had 
 come down, to see the new moon and to proclaim its appearance 
 by witnesses. It is quite in the manner of the Sadducees not 
 to make use of calculation because it was not ancient and had 
 been produced by the development of the times ; and actually 
 the Karaites point with all decision to the old custom and 
 cling to it. Triumphantly they relate that the Rabbinites had 
 once celebrated New Year's Day while the old moon was still 
 visible. The Rabbinites pay no attention to that; they stick 
 properly to the time fixed by calculation, which must keep 
 its validity to prevent uncertainty. And they care nothing for 
 the narrowminded mockery of the Karaites, those literal anti- 
 quaries. I might add many things which verify the complete 
 agreement of Karaitism and Sadduceeism and plainly prove that 
 Karaitism did not proceed from a want for progress, but rather 
 from a demand for standing still. I might say, out of the needs 
 of the reactionaries, for they felt a need of fortifying them- 
 selves for standing still and for preserving themselves against 
 the energy of development that was moving through the time. 
 
268 Judaism and Its History 
 
 History always repeats itself in this, that just in times 
 when healthy life breaks through the entire mass and quickens 
 it, when it is to be expected that development moves vic- 
 toriously through all classes, those who convulsively want to 
 cling to the old, feel within themselves the demand to get 
 closer together and secede, lest the new life enter their ranks. 
 They must now group themselves more closely and insist on 
 their principles with more marked consistency and greater 
 emphasis than had been done. While they did not cry out 
 before in the current and even drifted along, now they must 
 rouse themselves, their protest must sound aloud, their 
 resistance must be strengthened. He that should consider 
 such noisy demonstration of reaction as a relapse of the time, 
 is much in error. On the contrary, that shrill dissonance of 
 reaction, that seeming retreat of the time, is the most eloquent 
 testimony for the power of the development and progress 
 which seizes all. Thus the appearance of Karaitism was the 
 sign of the lively currents of the time. 
 
 Of course Karaitism contained in part also, healthier 
 elements. Let us not forget that the development which 
 had not affected it, may not be called a wholly clear and clean 
 one. It had gone on in dark and gloomy times. The 
 changes of Scripture by interpretation, as they were made by 
 Talmudism and Rabbinism, did not agree at all with a reason- 
 able conception of the word. When the Karaites returned 
 closer to the letter of Scripture, they stimulated a study of 
 the bible, which became very fertile. But they only stimu- 
 lated, the fruits were not ripened by them. It is a remark- 
 able phenomenon that just those men who looked only to 
 the letter and regarded only the Scripture as their canonical 
 book, who held to it to the exclusion of the later works, and 
 should therefore be the more zealous to study and investigate 
 it,' that those men yet achieved nothing important in explain- 
 ing the Scriptures, that they stand far behind the Rabbinites, 
 have to learn much from these, and finally are weakening 
 and wasting away. That fine peculiarity which Phariseeism 
 and its rejuvenation, Rabbinism, show, viz., to enter always 
 full and fresh into the course of mental and spiritual develop- 
 
Awakening of Science 269 
 
 ment with perfect clinging to its own principles, it appears 
 very little in Karaitism. We find in their more recent writ- 
 ings only repetition of what the older ones have developed. 
 That other fine exhibition of living energy in Judaism, to 
 settle everywhere and to be able to feel at home everywhere, 
 to move along everywhere where new soil becomes accessible, 
 to draw nourishment from that soil as well as to carry there 
 its own spiritual seed, that fine exhibition of the life of Juda- 
 ism which reveals general human character — it is wanting in 
 the Karaites; they cling to the old soil from which they can 
 not part. They cling first to Palestine, and although they 
 had for awhile a colony in Spain, they spread only in the 
 Orient. They live to-day in Eastern countries and can not 
 get loose from them. Still, now and then a new motion is 
 noticed among them, but it seems as breathed over from 
 Rabbinism. 
 
 Thus that new schism is of course evidence of a newly- 
 awakened spirit, even if only by its contrast. Yet the spirit 
 was wide awake and showed itself in the development of 
 Rabbinical Judaism. Right in the first period when the new 
 literature of the Arabian began, we see Jews taking part as 
 translators, grammarians, astronomers, physiologists, phy- 
 sicians. In the seventh century already, in the same century 
 in which the new religion arose, we meet Masdershvai, a 
 Jewish scholar who translated and elaborated mathematical 
 works; also Mashallah, who has a place of importance as 
 astronomer and astrologer; Sahl al Taberi, and many others 
 who appear among the first founders of the new literature 
 and may be called the fathers of the new culture. Soon they 
 do not remain at collaboration in which the Jews were but 
 part in the multitude, but they carry the science over into 
 Judaism, giving it Hebrew dress. From that time, works 
 exist which have been rediscovered in recent times and which 
 are now recognized as belonging to that period, breathing 
 the Arabian spirit, and showing how active the scientific 
 spirit was among the Jews. The astronomical work of one 
 Samuel belongs to the ninth century. A work on mathe- 
 matics and geometry by one Rabbi Nathan in forty-nine 
 
270 Judaism and Its History 
 
 paragraphs, also called the Mishnah of the forty-nine meters, 
 also belongs to that time. 
 
 We meet also a philosophical work peculiarly interlaced 
 with Jewish views. Philosophy was very soon cultivated 
 among the Arabians, at first that branch of philosophy which 
 was more in agreement with the imagination. The neo- 
 platonic and neo-pythagorean were the branches which were 
 first followed with favor. Only later, Aristotle became the 
 autocrat in philosophy among the Arabians, and during the 
 whole Middle Ages. The neo-pythagorean branch had had 
 peculiar charms for that time. Its fundamental element is 
 the number as something least concrete, something belonging 
 to pure perception without sensible wrap, an idea without a 
 body, a contemplation without sensibility. This branch 
 takes the Arabians, and a remarkable Jewish work of the 
 eighth or ninth century appears wholly in such dress. The 
 ten digits and the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet, 
 so teaches that booklet about creation {Yezirah), are the 
 instrument, the element, out of which God formed the world. 
 They are a breath, a perception, with all their generality, yet 
 the expression for everything physical; they are reflected in 
 everything. As they become firm and express themselves 
 visibly, they are the first elements of creation, of existence. 
 These conceptions were dressed up with many more explicit 
 Jewish definitions and worked out into a philosophical system 
 which later gave occasion for many mystical dreamings, 
 although that little old book is not so fantastical and chimeri- 
 cal. These ten digits (Sefirahs) were in the cabala — the later 
 Jewish mysticism — conjointly with the twenty-two letters of 
 the Hebrew alphabet, the thirty-two paths of wisdom in 
 which it dreamingly promenades. Yet the little book which 
 forms the fulcrum for this and similar fantasms is innocent 
 of all that. It rather appears as a serious philosophical 
 attempt, a first start for later real philosophical works. 
 
 Scientific endeavors go more closely into the real contents 
 of Judaism. Soon after the rise of Islam, the Arabians had 
 zealously worked at fixing their language and its grammar, 
 especially at a visible presentation of the vowels. They had 
 
Vowel Marks and Punctuation 271 
 
 started serious labors as to how the Koran should be read 
 in public. Like all Semitic languages, the Arabic has in its 
 writings originally only the skeleton; i. e., only the con- 
 sonants are shown by letter, the life-giving breath which gives 
 them various meanings, the vowels, are not written originally. 
 But when the Arabians became a literary people with a 
 Scripture, a holy book, it soon was of importance that the 
 sound should be definitely fixed lest various pronunciations 
 should enter the holy book and thus obscure or even pervert 
 its contents. Thus the Arabians acquired vowel signs which 
 presented the three basic sounds. Grammar schools arose in 
 different countries of the empire. The Jews did not remain 
 idle spectators. Long ago the text of their Scriptures and of 
 many other books had been reduced to writing, but they had 
 been satisfied with the consonants, and the fixity of the pro- 
 nunciation had been left to oral tradition. When the Arabians 
 invented their vowel marks, the Jewish schools began to 
 work for the same end for their Scriptures and that with a 
 zeal and care yet surpassing the Arabians. Even the least 
 variation of the sound was fixed by some sign and the vocali- 
 zation was shaped by a thoroughgoing system. In fact, two 
 different systems arose, one in Babylonia and the other in 
 Palestine. The latter prevailed and is in use to-day. If we 
 consider those labors expended upon the inherited holy 
 treasures, they furnish the best evidence of the mental and 
 spiritual industry and the scientific earnestness which pre- 
 vailed at that time. 
 
 The Arabians are a people fond of poetry and song. But 
 poetry among them is shown more in frequent return of the 
 sounds than by depth of sentiment and vigor of the idea. 
 Like children, they like the fine, full sound that comes out 
 in their language which is rich in vowels; and thus they come 
 to practice rhyming. In their poetic pieces the same rhyme 
 is repeated innumerable times. One Kasside runs along 
 with the same rhyme, even if it has a hundred strophes; and 
 in other poems which have a diversity of rhymes, they prefer 
 to have the rhymes repeated. They also delight in bold 
 images. The flight of fancy in their poems often iQses all 
 
272 Judaism and Its History 
 
 measure, mocks the discipline of the thought and the clearness 
 of the conception, the shape of the image is in a far-off fog. 
 The Hebrew language and conception begin differently. 
 Standing with its vocalization in the middle, between the 
 scanty Aramaic and the richer Arabic, it does not give prefer- 
 ence to ringing sound, it did not know rhyme at all and did 
 not seek for a terminal ring of the sound, but rather for the 
 rounding out of the thought. It liked to repeat the idea to 
 be expressed, in various ways and to illuminate it on all sides. 
 That is the parallelism of the lines, where two parts of a 
 sentence present one idea, but in different lights, sometimes 
 by contrast, sometimes by repetition, but always so that it 
 comes out in sharper outline. The later prayers which we 
 have from the first centuries after the destruction of the 
 Temple, still carry that biblical form without using any 
 rhyme. But now the Jews were living among the Arabians; 
 sound bribes the ear, the flight of fancy carries along and they 
 tried to do like the Arabians. Of course it did not succeed 
 particularly at first. There were imitations carrying over 
 the peculiarity of one language into the other one which, 
 though closely related, yet has its own characteristics that 
 may not be infringed upon. Nor was the taste sufficiently 
 purified to find the proper mean. Rhyme was used in endless 
 repetition in the new liturgical poems, artificial turns were 
 purposely looked up with the intent to imitate the pomp of 
 words. Unheard-of wrenching of words, bold, new forma- 
 tions which attempted something transcendant but turned 
 out shapeless and uncouth, are surprising but lack all poetic 
 grace. 
 
 Elasar Ben Kalir, a man in Palestine, probably of the 
 eighth or ninth century, composed a great number of poetic 
 prayers for the holidays containing a mass of sound figures, 
 prayers in which the words with the same endings are con- 
 stantly repeated, in which the boldest new formations are 
 used without regard to whether they are correctly shaped 
 grammatically or justified etymologically. A verse was 
 considered the more poetical, the more artificial and bom- 
 bastic it was. It was an effect of the time, an assumption of 
 
Criticism of the Bible 273 
 
 the character of Arabianism, without the intelligent judgment 
 and labor which a later time applied to such adaptations 
 as the Spanish school presents artistically. If such 
 attempts brought no gain, nor offer any ripe fruit of mental 
 activity, yet we perceive in them the endeavor to appropriate 
 all mental treasures of the environment. When in our 
 modern days, those jingling sound figures are in the houses 
 of worship still offered to our eyes and ears, when those 
 cumbersome prayers for dew and rain are still recited with 
 their inharmonic rhymes, their hard words and their uncom- 
 prehended contents, it is the result of the same want of 
 thought which keeps up a prayer in the Chaldean language 
 for the well-being of the princes of the exile (the Geonim) 
 who no longer exist. But for those times in which those 
 prayers originated, we recognize in that laborious work an 
 unconscious impulse which desires to join into the ruling 
 culture. 
 
 The philosophical culture of the time burrows much 
 deeper. Even doubters and critical investigators appear. 
 It sounds rather dark but we know enough of it to be able 
 to announce their existence with certainty. Among other 
 names, one Chivi of Balk in Persia is quoted as a man of 
 such bold sayings that we should hardly expect them for 
 that time. Not only that he disputes creation out of nothing, 
 that he asserts the world was shaped out of original matter; 
 not only that he says about sacrifices, "Why offer sacrifices 
 to the eternal God, for what purpose were Temple and 
 lamps?" but also about the miraculous in the Scripture, he 
 speaks in a manner as it was never more boldly used by the 
 later men who attempted to explain the miracles in a natural 
 way. Thus for instance, he explains that the passage of the 
 Red Sea was made at low ebb; the manna he regards as a 
 gum yielded by the trees in the desert; he does not believe 
 that the face of Moses became shining, to him the expression 
 appears to mean that from long fasting his skin had become 
 hornlike. Such explanations are sober enough and do not 
 fit the spirit of the Scriptures, but at any rate, they show a 
 bold frankness. And this man was not the only one; it is 
 
274 Judaism and Its History 
 
 related that his explanations were introduced into schools, 
 which shows that he was not abused as a heretic; on the 
 contrary, he must have passed as a respectable scholar and 
 have found decided adherents. 
 
 That was a time of full and many-sided stimulation. 
 Only the Talmudic schools could not properly follow the spirit 
 of the time. At the center of the religious life there was 
 weakness, among the Geonim there were no men of import- 
 ance; their academies could not produce them. And thus a 
 conflict between science and religion threatened to arise; it 
 was avoided for the time. 
 
VI. 
 
 Saadias. 
 
 About the end of the ninth and the beginning of the tenth 
 century, the mental currents in the Eastern Arabian Empire 
 rose high, the floods washed also around the rock of Talmudism 
 which lay right in the middle of this movement ; they did not 
 shake it, but their roaring sound frightened all around it. 
 Just in the interior of the Eastern Arabian Empire were the 
 old academies as they had grown up from the Babylonian- 
 Parthian time with the formation of the Babylonian Talmud, 
 and had become fixed with determinative influence, Sora and 
 Pumbeditha — the latter city quite close to Bagdad — at which 
 the teachers had gathered numerous students and whence 
 they spread their decisions into all countries. Under Arabian 
 rule, the inherited Jewish constitution had reached a high 
 importance and great regard. A Chief of the Exile, Rosh 
 Galuth, invested with a certain amount of political power and 
 the dignity of governor, presided over the Jews of the vast 
 empire, collected the taxes from them, and enjoyed in this way, 
 great respect. The teachers at the two above-named academ- 
 ies were the religious chiefs. After the close of the Babylonian 
 Talmud, they went by the name Sahoraim, "givers of 
 opinions," but now in the Arabian period we find 
 them designated by the pompous name Geonim, "the Excel- 
 lencies," and the power of the empire as well as the liberty 
 accorded to all inhabitants even to those not avowing Islam, 
 gave to the academies and their chiefs higher dignity. They 
 appeared in public with splendor, surrounded by guards who 
 accompanied them. Their lectures, which they delivered 
 only at stated times, were regarded as important events and 
 were preceded by special ceremonies. Thus the Geonim 
 were respected not only as scholars but also as spiritual 
 dignitaries and chiefs of the entire religious union. In spite 
 
276 Judaism and Its History 
 
 of all that, the intrinsic importance of those teachers did not 
 correspond to the high mental movement of the time. They 
 kept within their antiquarian, theological, Talmudical 
 dominion, and even there they do not appear as fertile 
 authors. We have works of Acha of Shabecha and of Simon 
 of Cahira, but they never held the office of Gaon. Of the 
 Geonim we have little to show; mostly decisions, answers to 
 questions which were addressed to them from all countries. 
 Only a few individuals stand out. We learn of one Judai Gaon 
 who attempted to fix Halachoth (conclusions or customs); 
 and of Zemach Ben Paltoi who made a weak, pioneer attempt 
 to compose a kind of Talmudical dictionary. Amram Ben 
 Sheshna sends a complete liturgy to Spain with the regulations 
 to be observed at prayer. Those are about all the scanty 
 literary products from the academies. The schools were 
 weak, and became so low that even in the Talmudical branch, 
 the most important men did not head them. Ambition had 
 cast its eye upon those spiritual dignities and many a rich 
 dilettante aspired to occupy that position and succeeded in 
 getting it. 
 
 Thus the gaonate decreased in value and importance, but 
 the times demanded something else. It was felt that the 
 whole structure would break down if, while science was rising 
 everywhere, religion should remain in its old shape and waste 
 more and more. And a man was looked for who, as a son of 
 his time, could also be accepted as an able scholar, learned in 
 the Talmud. Such a man was found about the first half of 
 the tenth century, near 930, in Saadias Ben Joseph, called 
 Said in Arabic. He did not belong to the Babylonian schools 
 and had not resided in Babylonia, but was an Egyptian, born 
 in Fasum in 892. He had become known in many ways. 
 He was of a virile nature and full of a desire to reconcile the 
 differences, yet at the same time to oppose his whole force 
 to any obstinate opinions that tended to prevail, with rigor 
 and determination. As a young man of twenty-three he 
 appears to have composed an argument against Anan, of 
 which we have not even a fragment. Possessing little 
 mentally creative power, he was a man of broad and wide 
 
Saadias 277 
 
 knowledge, eager to bend aside the points in order that the 
 varying tendencies might tolerate each other and cause no 
 wounds. Saadias himself, in some of his writings, places 
 before us the principles which determine the course of his 
 ideas. 
 
 Scripture, tradition, and reason, are the sources of knowl- 
 edge and these three have their full validity and form com- 
 plete unity. Scripture is to him the complete expression of 
 reason and he not only finds nothing contradictory to reason 
 in it, but on the contrary he goes so far as to propose the 
 question, for what purpose revelation was given, since it 
 completely corresponds to reason, and its announcements 
 could and must be found as well by reason. His answer is: 
 "They correspond perfectly to each other, their contents 
 coincide, but revelation had the purpose to bring the con- 
 tents which reason could but slowly dig out, sooner into 
 reality. Long periods would have to elapse before mankind 
 would have been led up by its own reason. Revelation 
 hastened the process of thinking. Scripture, tradition, and 
 reason, are, accordingly, the three sources of knowledge and 
 are in complete agreement with one another, because they are 
 born out of the same divine mind. They are simply shaped 
 in different modes of expression, but are alike in their real 
 contents. Accordingly, Scripture must agree perfectly with 
 reason, and such objections as are made by bold rationalists 
 as we have heard them from Chivi of Balk, he rejects in 
 different ways. 
 
 According to Saadias, it is not at all repugnant to reason 
 that God should miraculously interfere with his almightiness. 
 Miracle, as emanation of divine power, is in his opinion not 
 in contradiction with the otherwise general and regular 
 operations of the laws of nature and therefore not in contra- 
 diction with reason. If he solves that question, which is still 
 pending nine centuries after him, in such manner, we must 
 not consider him for that, an opponent of knowledge by 
 reason. But there are some miracles which contradict all 
 reason and natural law with a certain directness, as when the 
 serpent speaks to Eve, or the ass to Balaam. Such a miracle 
 
278 Judaism and Its History 
 
 changes the whole nature of those animals; there is not a 
 momentary interruption but a complete upsetting of the laws 
 of nature and reasoning power. When in modern times a 
 representative of liberal tendencies points to such examples 
 for his assertion that Scripture should be read, not according 
 to the letter, but according to its spiritual meaning, and 
 addresses to his adversaries the question whether they really 
 believe that Balaam's ass had spoken, and they answer with 
 a loud and vigorous yes, Saadias had no such courage to 
 subject reason completely to faith. "No," he says, "the 
 serpent never spoke, but an angel pronounced the words so 
 that it appeared to Eve as if the serpent had spoken. In like 
 manner, God caused a voice to be heard which Balaam 
 thought came from the ass." All divine revelation he takes, 
 not as a visible appearance of God (for everything corporeal 
 must be kept out), but rather as hearing a voice created by 
 God, or seeing a glimmer of light produced by God, therefore 
 momentary creations for the definite purpose of being audible 
 and visible to the prophet. He had therefore no difficulty 
 in assuming a similar proceeding in those miracles. But how 
 is it with the witch of Endor when she conjures up Samuel for 
 Saul? How does a witch acquire such power? What God 
 may do for accrediting his prophet should not happen for the 
 benefit of a witch. But he stands by his opinion. Saul had 
 provoked confirmation of his superstition so that God caused 
 the appearance of the shade of Samuel to become visible to 
 him at the time of the witch's conjuration, but not by that. 
 In the prolog of Job, Satan appears as the accuser of Job. 
 We find in that highly poetic representation no difficulty. 
 We know how to take poetry as poetical, and Goethe did not 
 know how to introduce his Faust more fittingly than by 
 imitating the prolog of Job. That old time had no proper 
 conception of the poetical; for it, that poem was a historical 
 fact. How is a Satan, a bad spirit, to be imagined? The 
 superior spirits must be pure and perfectly sinless, a bad 
 spirit is to Saadias a contradiction in itself. Therefore 
 Saadias transfers the event from heaven to earth. In a 
 company of excellent men who admired Job for his virtue, 
 
Saadias 279 
 
 there was a doubter who found fault with Job's purity and 
 thus became his accuser. To disprove him, the divine trial 
 of Job is made that he may prove himself true. We may 
 consider such attempts at explanation weak and insufficient 
 and yet they have been repeated in similar manner in the 
 course of the centuries. 
 
 Saadias holds decidedly fast to freedom of human will, 
 and where an expression occurs to endanger that freedom and 
 seems to indicate interference by God, he is not satisfied to 
 say simply that the expression should not be taken too liter- 
 ally, but he rather attempts to so twist it that the threatening 
 meaning disappears. For instance, if we read, "The king's 
 heart is in the hands of the Lord as the rivers of water, he 
 turneth it whithersoever he will," this sounds as if God puts 
 the thoughts into the heart of man. "No," says Saadias, 
 "such is not the meaning; rather, the king's heart is in 
 divine power; i. e., when the fear of God fills it as water and 
 rivers, he has his heart and his passions under control and can 
 turn his heart whither he will." 
 
 As Saadias tries in this manner to make Scripture and 
 reason agree, so he proceeds also in regard to tradition. Here 
 it was important, especially in opposition to the Karaites who 
 emphasized the variation between the word of the Scripture 
 and the development of law as it was shaped in Talmudical 
 Judaism, to prove that such variation was but a seeming one, 
 that on the contrary, tradition and the word of Scripture 
 express the same thing. The admission that a historic 
 development had taken place which produced a removal from 
 the word of the Scripture and transformed its regulations, 
 was repugnant to the spirit of the time, in spite of the fact 
 that the impulse and its justification were deeply inherent in 
 Judaism. In earlier times there had been no hesitation to 
 announce that the court has the right to tear up by the roots 
 any ordinance which was no longer fitting for the times even 
 if written in the bible. It had been acknowledged that 
 custom and practice have the power to acquire validity even 
 if opposed to ordinances, which means nothing else than that 
 the development of the time as it shapes itself has well- 
 
280 Judaism and Its History 
 
 grounded validity as against the dead letter. That could be 
 announced without hesitation at a time when the fight against 
 it had not been started and things were moving in still self- 
 confident unconsciousness. But when the Karaites came 
 forward with their contradictions and denied the right of 
 shaping ordinances against the divine letter, the leaders 
 shied, and Saadias attempted to bring all ordinances, as they 
 had been shaped by development and were considered tra- 
 ditional, into agreement with the word of the Scripture, even 
 to find them in it. Let us consider a single example. 
 
 The Scripture says, "When two brothers reside together, 
 and one of them dies without leaving children, the surviving 
 brother shall take the widow as wife, and the oldest son 
 produced of this marriage shall take the dead brother's place 
 and inherit his possession." The ancient Sadducees and the 
 Karaites like them, took no offense at this regulation, because 
 it permits marriage of the brother's wife, which is forbidden 
 elsewhere; and they applied the law exclusively to the be- 
 trothed woman, but not to the married one. Pharisees and 
 Rabbinites were closer to the letter, when they contended 
 that in such a case it was permitted to marry the wife of the 
 deceased brother. But in course of time, practice among the 
 Rabbinites had changed the law. If the bible says, "And it 
 shall be that the first-born which she beareth shall succeed 
 in the name of his brother which is dead" (i. e., he should 
 inherit by right of primogeniture), the actual practice had 
 become that such a marriage was no longer considered a mere 
 continuance of the old one, but an entirely new one; the 
 husband took possession of the inheritance and all children 
 proceeding from this marriage had equal shares, the first-born 
 had no advantage above the others. But upon the first- 
 born, the oldest one of the surviving brothers, the obligation 
 of marrying the widow was to rest. The Karaites objected 
 to this as an innovation and declared it contrary to Scripture 
 and unjustifiable. Saadias does not hesitate to attempt to 
 carry the new practice into the word of the bible; he trans- 
 lates: "That the first-born to whom she beareth, he shall 
 succeed in the name of his brother" — so that the word "first- 
 
Saadias 281 
 
 born" does not mean the first son of the new marriage but 
 the oldest of the brothers, to whom the widow bears children, 
 and he takes the inheritance. 
 
 We have before mentioned the hot fight between the 
 Karaites and the Rabbinites about the regulation of the 
 calendar. Saadias finds here also a way out, though rather 
 a forced one. He asserts that the calculation is not a new 
 thing; that both calculation and observation of the new moon 
 had been in use in the earliest times, and if both are not 
 plainly expressed in Scripture, he seeks to figure them out 
 from some slight indications. The violent dispute into 
 which he enters with the Karaites about this matter is not 
 a particularly successful one. Later Rabbinites admit that 
 Saadias leant upon a broken reed. But at the time, Saadias 
 could not make any concession; he had to gather all forces 
 together to support the customary practice in a rational 
 manner and to concede the proper right to reason without 
 divesting usage of its sanctified character. Saadias is a 
 theologian of reconciliation, and thus a perfect son of his time 
 which is to develop a stronger period. 
 
 That he was a man of his time, he shows also by this, 
 that he wrote all his works in the language of his country, in 
 Arabic. So long as religious subjects are elaborated and 
 treated in the customary language of the scholars, in which 
 they first arose, the conceptions are the customary ones and 
 remain the old ones. They are like the coins which pass from 
 hand to hand, the value of which is accepted according to their 
 determined coinage without questioning what their actual 
 value might be. Religious conceptions, too, pass for what 
 they were formerly claimed to be and appear in a certain 
 independence as long as they are pronounced in their ancient 
 language. It is something quite different when the language 
 elaborates from the home, if it comes forth quick and alive 
 from the pure fountain of the temper and spirit with which 
 the entire life is in connection; then thoughts are rejuvenated. 
 It is not sufficient that the conceptions be customary, they 
 must be in harmony with the entire mode of thinking as it 
 runs alon^ constantly fresh in life. When Thomasius, at the 
 
282 Judaism and Its History 
 
 end of the seventeenth century, first delivered his lectures in 
 German instead of the Latin, he effected by that as much as 
 by his fight against the belief in witches; and when Saadias 
 wrote his works in the Arabic language, he essentially broke 
 the way for a union of the consciousness of the time with 
 religious custom, even if he did not effect it completely. But 
 he did more yet, he made an Arabic translation of the bible. 
 A new translation of the bible — if it does not proceed from 
 purely literary endeavor, if it is worked out in times when 
 the activity of authors is not a trade and every work comes 
 forth in response to an actual demand — every such transla- 
 tion of the bible is the revelation of a changed consciousness 
 of the time, the expression of a newly recognized desire for 
 better connection of the derived religious life with its source. 
 It always comes forth at the threshold of a new period of 
 time. When the Greek-Alexandrian Jews wanted to bring 
 their ancient religious inheritance into a certain unison with 
 the Greek ideas which flowed around them, the Greek Sep- 
 tuagint translation came forth and gave the impulse to a new 
 culture in Egypt. When Talmudism had acquired firmness 
 and spread afar, the Chaldec translation received its final 
 touches and became fixed and standard. When science 
 attempted to penetrate into the church of the Middle Ages, 
 which, sunk into ignorance, was moving along by sheer 
 momentum and had lost all acquaintance with its source — 
 when science dared the attempt to throw its rays into the 
 tightly-closed portals of the church, Luther arose with a new 
 translation of the bible which became the banner of the new 
 time and the new tendency grouped itself accordingly. When 
 in Judaism a new time of redemption and illumination arrived, 
 after long and hard oppression had enslaved the minds and 
 custom, and want of taste had held dominion, Mendelssohn 
 inaugurated that new period with his translation of the bible 
 and gave it a definite impression. Such a translation of the 
 bible is, therefore, the work of the time, and he that under- 
 takes it, is the man of the time and the carrier of the thought 
 and the mental forces which are moving the time. Such a 
 man Stadias was top. 
 
Arabian Translation of the Bible 283 
 
 Translations of such a kind do not proceed from a purely 
 scientific impulse, but from a religious instinct, from the 
 endeavor to arrange a union of the new thought with the tra- 
 ditional religious conceptions and views. They are, there- 
 fore, not built on strictly scientific principles. And if the 
 translation can not stand up in all regards before the judg- 
 ment-seat of science, it has great importance in that it is the 
 mirror of a newly awakened consciousness, and as it arises 
 from attachment to the faith which it wants to reconcile with 
 arising opposition, so it is, on the other side, the product of a 
 new culture for which it becomes a strong support, and which 
 spreads and sanctions it. 
 
 In addition to all that, Saadias was very busy as Gaon, 
 labored in the Talmudical field, had to send into many 
 countries answers and decisions upon questions addressed to 
 him, and composed a considerable number of small polemical 
 writings. He was mixed up in many disputes. Of a virile 
 nature, he was not easy to bend, and thus had to fight out 
 a long quarrel with the Chief of the Exile, David Ben Saccai, 
 who wanted to force him to confirm a decision which he 
 (Saadias) considered unjust, so that he was divested of the 
 Gaonate during seven years, and had to keep in hiding. A 
 man of compromise and reconciliation, and yet of unbending 
 sense of justice! And all that, he accomplished in a life 
 which lasted but fifty years. Such a man is well worthy to 
 be glorified, a man of valiant, untiring endeavor, of unbroken 
 energy, and a mind filled with general knowledge. He did 
 not carry the new endeavors to completion, but he gave 
 stimulus in all directions and thus laid the foundations for a 
 new period. 
 
 Yet in general, the Arabian Empire in the East was enter- 
 ing its decline. As the sun rises in the east but moves toward 
 the west, so too in the history of mankind, culture starts in 
 the East and spreads toward the West to be completed there 
 in higher development. The califate of Bagdad paled gradu- 
 ally. The califates subordinate to it acquired their inde- 
 pendence and developed into superior powers, and power is 
 followed by mental elevation, We soon see in Northern 
 
284 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Africa, rich culture arise. Saadias, too, had been from 
 Northern Africa, from Egypt. Cairo had become an im- 
 portant gathering place of intellect. There flourished the 
 contemporary of Saadias, Isaac Ben Solomon, also called 
 Israeli, who lived nearly a hundred years, from the middle of 
 the ninth to the middle of the tenth century — one of the most 
 fertile authors. His works were translated from the Arabic 
 into the Latin, and retained their supremacy through the 
 entire Middle Ages. Physician, philosopher, mathematician, 
 and astronomer, he had accomplished and produced much, 
 judged by the condition of the time; but he also labored in 
 the theological field and he also attempted to explain that 
 neo-pythagorean philosophical little book, "Of the Creation," 
 in a natural, rational way. He busied himself, too, with 
 interpretation and explanation of the Scripture and proba- 
 bility indicates that he is the "Isaaki" in whose name many 
 critical opinions are quoted. Among other things, Isaaki 
 asserts that the passage, "And these are the kings that 
 reigned in the land of Edom before there reigned any king 
 over the children of Israel" (Genesis xxxvi, 31), after which eight 
 generations are named, was written at the time of Josaphat, 
 one of the later kings of Juda, and not by Moses. And con- 
 sider that the man lived nine centuries ago. 
 
 Another man of decided literary attainments is Juda Ben 
 Koraish who did solid work in comparative philology. It 
 was natural to him; he had a good knowledge of Hebrew, 
 Arabic was his mother tongue, Chaldee, which he calls Syrian, 
 he had in the Targum (the bible translation). He compared 
 those three Semitic sister-languages and recognized that they 
 are closely related dialects, derived from a common root; that 
 they are in essentials determined by the same laws, even if 
 they diverge again in their complete development. The 
 science of comparative philology has only in most recent times 
 again found intelligent treatment. The nine centuries be- 
 tween Juda Ben Koraish and the present are almost entirely 
 void in that field. What ventured to show up as comparative 
 philology is fantastic and confused dreaming. It is the more 
 gratifying to meet among the Arabian Jews of that early time 
 
JxjDA Ben Koraish 285 
 
 with a man who with clear, sober view and scientific certainty 
 correctly recognizes the basic laws of comparative philology 
 and knows how to present them. But the richer land deserves 
 our fuller attention, and we pass over to Spain. 
 
VII. 
 
 In Spain. 
 
 There are periods in the world's history which cast their 
 illuminating rays into the late centuries. They are like a 
 mighty fountain which, when the grounds through which 
 it had formerly wandered have been covered by drifting 
 sands or laid waste, breaks forth somewhere else and starts 
 growth there, a fountain from which the late comer yet 
 eagerly dips refreshing drink. Such is the biblical-Hebrew 
 period, such the Greek-Hellenic time, and such is, even if 
 not in the same high degree, the Jewish-Spanish-Arabian 
 period. Already in early times, Spain had not been entirely 
 unknown to the Jews, but it was regarded by them as a far 
 distant country. It is not named in the bible, and Sepharad, 
 ^s the Spanish Jews called their country in Hebrew, is not 
 Spain in biblical language. But the Mishnah mentions it 
 ^nd knows the fine fish from there which are served on the 
 tables of gormandizing Romans as dainty dishes. It is 
 also spoken of as the province of the sea, the land of the West, 
 and as the farthest limits of the world. The time when Jews 
 first settled there can not be fixed with certainty. But 
 while all the ancient nations — Phoenicians, Greeks and 
 Romans — visited Spain and founded colonies there, Jews 
 may have come along with them; and when the Romans con- 
 quered the country and held it as a pearl of their empire, 
 it may be accepted as certain that Jews went and settled there. 
 In the first Christian centuries we find them there in large 
 numbers and as long as Christianity existed there in milder 
 form, as long as the Arians who were less dogmatic, ruled 
 in Spain, we find the Jews in friendly intercourse with the 
 rest of the population. But when the more severe tendency 
 of the trinitarian faith gained the supremacy and councils of 
 the church convened frequently, ordering the suppression 
 
In Spain 287 
 
 of so-called heresies with rigor and violence, the Jews were 
 treated as the worst unbelievers, Judaism was adjudged the 
 most criminal heresy, and severe measures were employed 
 against them. To the fanaticism of the church, West-Gothic 
 brutality became joined, and the lot of the Jews was a very 
 sad one as long as the West-Gothic church government re- 
 mained unshaken down to the eighth century. The names 
 Reckared, Sisibut, Receswinth, Erwig, Erika, are written in 
 blood into the history of the Jews. The most severe laws 
 were ordered against them, so that toward the last, they 
 were considered and treated as slaves and bondmen. 
 
 Then a storm swept along, convulsing and purifying. 
 Hardly a century had passed since Islam had arisen and its 
 adherents had spread over Northern Africa, reached the 
 Pillars of Hercules and now crossed the narrow strait which 
 separates Africa from Europe and quickly took possession of 
 the whole of Spain. Spain turned over a new leaf. Arabian- 
 ism, Islam, kept itself on Spanish soil from the beginning of 
 the eighth century for over seven hundred years and gave to 
 the country splendor and glory and noble civilization. Merry 
 song, elevation of mind, flourishing science soon prevailed in 
 the country; amidst battle and clanking of arms the minds 
 became strong, and yet mild manner did not disappear. A 
 peculiar life arose there. Two nationalities wrestle for ex- 
 clusive possession; to each nationality attaches different 
 speech and faith. Here is the old-Spanish-Roman population 
 with Roman-Castilian language and Christianity; there is 
 the Oriental population with musical Arabic language and 
 Islam. A fight for life starts. Who speaks Arabic professes 
 Islam; who speaks Roman is an adherent of Christianity, 
 and both languages flourish with that mutual emulation. 
 At the side of both populations and languages there exists 
 a third nationality, the Jewish, with Judaism for faith, and 
 also with the desire, natural under the circumstances, to 
 revive the Hebrew language. The Jews are said to have 
 assisted the Arabians at their invasion of Spain. If they did 
 so, no fault should be found with the slave who had been 
 robbed of his country for eagerly seizing the means offered 
 
288 Judaism and Its History 
 
 to break his chains. They were not deceived. Their fetters 
 were struck off and they who carried many scars and marks 
 of wounds in body and soul, breathed again anew. 
 
 Almost two centuries passed before the country entered 
 more quiet conditions, before the rapid conquest changed 
 to peaceable possession, and the mental elevation could attain 
 its proper development. At the beginning of the tenth 
 century, a ruler arises to whom it is permitted to spread the 
 culture of his tribe over the whole of Spain and to establish its 
 power therein. A reign of fifty years gives endurance to his 
 labors. Abdorrahman III. reigns from 911 to 961, a wise 
 and mighty prince, who with his son and successor Al Hakim, 
 represents the time when Arabian dominion in Spain was in 
 flower. The Spanish califate had become separated from 
 the supremacy of Bagdad and was independent. The 
 calif of Spain also took the title of Ruler of the Faithful and 
 made treaties independently with other powers. At the 
 side of Abdorrahman stood a Jew who is named everywhere 
 as his faithful adviser and agent of his enterprises, viz., 
 his physician, Chasdai Ben Isaac Ben Ezra Ben Shaprut. 
 Chasdai belongs to those eminent, grand natures who every- 
 where operate creatively, whose appearance commands 
 confidence and reverence so that the mean and narrow does 
 not dare to come near them. He was a statesman of genius, 
 of that genius which does not delight in daring conceits, 
 but which completely overlooks the road to be taken with 
 clear view before beginning, keeps his eye constantly on the 
 goal, and knows how to move toward it wisely and without 
 ceasing. A man of that kind acts stimulating and elevating 
 even where he can not and will not move independently. 
 Whether Chasdai held a political office besides his position 
 as physician to the calif, if he was minister (secretary) of 
 Abdorrahman, is not certain. He is not designated as visier, 
 but in any case he was his prince's faithful adviser and confi- 
 dant who took the most difficult tasks in hand and executed 
 them. He directed the foreign relations ; the negotiations which 
 Abdorrahman entered into with foreign powers were made 
 through him. Abdorrahman considered it very important 
 
Chasdai Shaprut 289 
 
 to be on good terms with the realms which bordered on the 
 Eastern Arabian Empire, especially with the Greek Empire, 
 in order to be secure against the sovereignty which the calif 
 of Bagdad did not want to relinquish. On this account he 
 sent a deputation to Constantinople, which was returned with 
 presents. That was done through the agency of Chasdai, 
 who turned the legation to the advantage of science because 
 he obtained the botany of Dioscorides and procured a learned 
 Greek monk, with whose assistance he m,ade the book the 
 property of the Arabians and of Europe. Abdorrahman 
 made also connection with the German Empire. Between 953 
 and 956, a deputation went to Otto I., who was then German 
 emperor, and it was answered by letter in the hands of a 
 German legation, of which John Von Goertz was the leader. 
 His biographer relates that the calif had at first been suspicious 
 and full of doubt lest the letter might contain something 
 insulting to Islam as similar expressions about Christianity 
 had greatly delayed the reception of the Arabian deputation 
 at the German imperial court. He therefore entrusted the 
 first steps to a Jew Hasdeu (Chasdai) and, he adds, our men 
 testify that they never saw a wiser man. He knew how to 
 manage that he learned the contents of the letter, and as 
 there were really some expression in it which might wound the 
 calif's feelings, he made great exertions to have the letter 
 changed for another one, and succeeded in having it done. 
 If such arrangements served only to raise the glory of the 
 court, there were others of essential advantage, especially 
 as they were made with small, still existing Christian prin- 
 cipalities in Spain. Don Sancho, the son of Ramir, was ruler 
 of Leon, but he was considerably objected to by his people; 
 in Navarra, a relative of his with his grandmother Tota held 
 sway. Through the diplomacy of Chasdai, Abdorrahman 
 succeeded so well that the two princes came to Cordova and 
 requested the calif to act as arbitrator. As Don Sancho was 
 sick, Chasdai gave him medical treatment, and then as dip- 
 lomat, succeeded in getting him to yield. From the Slavic 
 kingdoms, too, delegations came of half-savage tribes and 
 as among the other legations, there were among those Slavish 
 
290 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ones also isolated Jews who understood best how to effect 
 the approach. From them Chasdai heard the confirmation 
 of a rumor which had reached him before, that in that eastern 
 part of the world, a Jewish kingdom existed, a realm of 
 which a Jew occupied the throne. It was the realm of the 
 Chazars. 
 
 It had been founded in the eighth century in the Caucasus 
 and the present Crimea formed a part, in those regions where 
 wild mountaineers dwelt who retain their character till the 
 present time. There a realm was formed with Chakanes 
 at the head; these professed Judaism since the eighth century. 
 The realm presents a picture the like of which we hardly 
 find again in the Middle Ages. A great number of Jews 
 lived there and they left their traces deeply marked in the 
 history of those lands. At the present time the fragments 
 of that ancient Chazar-Jewish culture are yet to be found 
 in the Karaites residing there who in part are their descendants 
 and antiquities have been and are discovered which reach 
 back into early times and permit us to get a deeper view into 
 the development of many a Jewish quality. The Chazar- 
 Jewish rulers did not force the population into acceptance 
 of their faith; the realm was governed by a council of state, 
 composed of members of the various faiths prevailing in the 
 land. In the tenth century when Chasdai heard of it, the 
 empire of the Chazars had already passed the time of its 
 flower; the wildly crowding, half-savage populations of the 
 frontiers had somewhat shaken the throne, and shortly there- 
 after, the Moscowites put their hands against the realm, 
 when the Mongols destroyed it. Chasdai was greatly affected 
 by the news; he could not rest until he should have com- 
 munication with that Jewish monarch, this time not by order 
 of his master, but to satisfy his own heart. After much 
 trouble and several unsuccessful attempts, he succeeded. 
 As his messenger, Jacob of Nemez is named, which in the 
 Slavonic languages means Germany. A copy of the Hebrew 
 letter which Chasdai addressed to the King of the Chazars 
 has been preserved and is in many regards a valuable docu- 
 ment from that time. After high-flown, pompous beginning, 
 
Chazars 291 
 
 Chasdai explains his position in the Western Empire, how 
 God raised him up, gives an account of Sepharad, now 
 called Andalusia, its location, character, government, and 
 relations with other countries. Yet he was always grieved 
 by the jeers that the government had been taken from Israel, 
 and he had rejoiced the more upon hearing of a Jewish- 
 Chazar kingdom. He therefore prays for more exact informa- 
 tion, and it would be a great comfort to him to behold it with 
 his own eyes. The pompous introduction is an acrostic 
 showing the name Chasdai Ben Isaac Ben Ezra Ben Shaprut. 
 The king of the Chazars, who had the Hebrew name Joseph, 
 answered in very smooth Hebrew, gives information about 
 his realm, its extent, borders, and connections; he derives 
 the descent of the Chazars from Japhet, and tells that his 
 ancestors had been converts. He would be glad to see Chasdai 
 and wishes him health and prosperity. If that intercourse 
 has had no further consequences, that exchange of letters has 
 preserved to us a historic fact, illustrating the position 
 of Judaism in the East at that time. Out there where the 
 power of Greece and Rome had not penetrated, it hung long in 
 the balance which religion would prevail. Even the Moscow- 
 ite ruler was in doubt as to which one he should incline to 
 and Christianity owes its acceptance there almost to chance. 
 That exchange of letters without consequences, the Chazars 
 washed away without deeper effects upon world-historic 
 development like so many other kingdoms, was for a long 
 time overlooked and then doubted. Only recent time has 
 proved the letters genuine and the actual existence of the 
 Chazar realm with its Jewish kings. Now we also find more 
 and more remains of ancient Jewish culture in those parts, 
 which give us revelation of deep effects of Judaism upon that 
 time and at the same time throw remarkably strong light 
 upon the entire inner course of Judaism, revealing ancient 
 inner developments which without that, had been completely 
 covered up, and showing points that fit into the whole process 
 as necessary parts. 
 
 But let us return to Chasdai. He also put himself into 
 communication with the academies at Sora and Pumbeditha, 
 
292 Judaism and Its History 
 
 aimed to get learned Talmudical writings in return, corre- 
 sponded with Dosa, the son of Saadias, and sought to complete 
 his knowledge of the conditions in the country which was 
 acknowledged as the land of the birth of Judaism. In that 
 an event came to his aid which he seized eagerly. Four 
 Jewish scholars — probably residents of the Greek Empire — 
 had undertaken a journey by sea, the ship was captured by 
 a Spanish-Arabian admiral, the crew and passengers were 
 made slaves and sold. Of the four Jewish scholars, Shemarjah 
 was sold to Alexandria and redeemed by Jews residing there, 
 Chushiel went to Cairo, and Moses with his son (who was 
 probably the fourth one) whose wife preferred death in the 
 sea to the embraces of the lascivious admiral, came to Spain 
 and was sold to Cordova. He was not recognized at once, 
 but his true character was soon revealed. Chasdai joyfully 
 seized this opportunity to appoint him chief of an academy, 
 to dissolve the dependence in which Judaism had been on 
 Eastern Arabia, and to make Spain independent in Talmudic 
 scientific relations, just as his master had dissolved the 
 dependence of Spain from the Rulers of the Believers at 
 Bagdad. 
 
 Such grand efficacy on all sides — and he was in communi- 
 cation with the learned polyhistor Isaac Ben Solomon in Cairo 
 — had to exercise an important influence upon the mental 
 elevation of the Jews in Spain. All later authors are full of 
 his praise and proclaim that through his patronage Jewish 
 thought had first moved glad and new, all science had flour- 
 ished, and song and poetry had begun among the Jews. In 
 the days of prince Chasdai — says Abraham Ben David about 
 1160 — began a merry chirping, and later, under prince Samuel, 
 clear song resounded. The later literary critic, Charisi, 
 himself at the beginning of the thirteenth century a straggler 
 after the eminent poets, gives in a Hebrew poem extravagant 
 praise to Chasdai for his influence and liberal patronage of 
 Hebrew poets and scholars. In another short passage, he 
 acknowledges that the beginning of culture had started then, 
 but that those beginnings had been weak in comparison 
 with the later, higher accomplishment: "Formerly there 
 
Menahem Ben Saruk 293 
 
 was a number of poets — the crowd grew wild and rank — 
 now their songs are forgot — nobody wants to hear them 
 — Menahem Ben Saruk, Dunash Ben Librat and others alike 
 their songs have dropped out of sight — they were weak and 
 empty and Hght." 
 
 Charisi, an aesthetician, characterizes the periods almost 
 exclusively by the poetic attempts made and executed, but 
 he mentions in that passage names that are important in 
 other fields. Menahem Ben Saruk was an industrious scholar 
 and exerted great influence through his quiet work. He 
 was born at Tortosa, made his living as a merchant, but 
 lived for science. Chasdai induced him to remove to Cordova. 
 There he composed the first Hebrew dictionary with an 
 introduction containing the principles of grammar. As a 
 first attempt, that book has its faults and weak places. The 
 proper insight into the structure of the language had not 
 yet been attained ; Menahem did not yet know the law of the 
 three-letter roots, which is the basic law for all Semitic lan- 
 guages and especially for the Hebrew, and upon which alone 
 grammar and dictionary can be scientifically constructed. 
 But he placed everything known up to his time properly 
 together, and broke the road for further progress by the 
 general survey of what had been done. He looks with clear 
 and sober comprehension upon the phenomena of the lan- 
 guage, and his explanations of the numerous passages 
 quoted by him are sound and preparative for his successors. 
 Menahem's dictionary remains even later a guide for that part 
 of the Jews in the Middle Ages who, ignorant of the Arabic, 
 worked along the lines of his book which was in Hebrew. 
 For even that was an important step in advance, made by 
 Menahem; he composed his work in the Hebrew language 
 and founded a new scientific style which put aside the degen- 
 eracies and mixtures customary till then, and strove for 
 linguistically correct as well as elegant expression. If just 
 in Spain we meet such an attempt to renew the youth of the 
 Hebrew language, the reason for it is probably in the battle 
 of languages going on there. In the fight between Islam 
 and Christianity, the Arabic wrestled with the Castilian 
 
294 Judaism and Its History 
 
 tongue for the prize, and thus Judaism might be incited to 
 to take part in the struggle and attempt to revive its lan- 
 guage. The enterprise could not succeed with a language that 
 no longer prevailed in practical life. If excellent results 
 were yet achieved, it is a strong proof of the noble zeal and 
 the high gifts applied to it, and the aesthetic culture acquired 
 by it effected a purification of the taste in the explanation 
 of the Scriptures. Menahem made an important advance 
 in that. With clear, often sublime expression, he has a 
 fine sense for the characteristical of the presentation, and 
 does not permit his eye to be dimmed by the customary 
 interpretations. As far as science can be his guide, he 
 follows it. Of course, Menahem was no poet. If he had to 
 make an effort now and then to celebrate his patron Chasdai 
 in a poem or to sing of some event in his house, he did not 
 make a great success at it. It probably did not suit his 
 upright, honest mind to follow the Arabian fashion of climb- 
 ing the ladder of praises and placing extravagant homage at 
 the feet of a patron. He may have thought with a later 
 maker of proverbs: 
 
 Who likes to make songs of praise for the men on high 
 Must know how to flatter and understand how to lie. 
 
 With all his thoroughgoing, scientific activity, Menahem 
 recognized and appreciated the work of others, and as much 
 as he excelled the labors of his predecessors, he yet abstains 
 from any detracting remarks even where he cannot avoid 
 contradicting their opinions, and on the contrary, tries to 
 keep any blame away from them. 
 
 A man of such sterling and gentle character deserved a 
 quiet life and reverential recognition, and yet he did not receive 
 what his modest claims entitled him to demand. The times 
 were crowding and stormy. A younger contemporary, Dunash 
 Ben Librat, also known as Adonim Ha-Levi, a native of 
 Bagdad, had made his residence at Fez. Whether he removed 
 to Spain, attracted by the glory of Chasdai, is not certain 
 although probable; at any rate, he was in close communication 
 with Spain. Of a nature very different from that of Menahem, 
 
DuNASH Ben Librat 296 
 
 Dunash pitches with youthful impetuosity into his learned 
 contemporaries. At first he attacks Saadias and does not 
 confine his remarks within decent limits, eagerly seeks for 
 small faults, and points his criticisms into little epigrams which 
 he adds effectively to each critical remark. He does not 
 belong among the strongest, yet he tells the highly respected 
 Gaon, ** Notice who is behind, and who the right does 
 find." His egotism is not altogether without reason, for 
 he has a better insight into the peculiarities of the language 
 and has suppositions which later students form into scientific 
 certainties. Aben Ezra says of him correctly, " Dunash awoke 
 somewhat out of the sleep into which the earlier ones had 
 dropped, and his explanation of the Scripture strives for 
 greater objectivity." — But his fight against Saadias was 
 merely a skirmish which he soon ceased. He appears against 
 Menahem with greater severity. He annotates the diction- 
 ary with cutting glossaries which now and then hit correctly, 
 but treat the meritorious scholar with arrogant contempt 
 and he attempts to violently strip him of the pioneer's honor. 
 Those criticisms he hands to Chasdai, who accepts them 
 favorably, so much the more as they are accompanied by a 
 poem that praises Chasdai to the sky. 
 
 Dunash belongs to the first ones who introduced Arabic 
 verse metre into the Hebrew language. Exact metre is 
 foreign to the biblical Hebrew, although a natural rhythm 
 prevails in its poetical portions and especially a rhythm of 
 thoughts. If they aimed at that time to introduce an exactly 
 constructed metre in poetry, such was of course not in the 
 character of the Hebrew language but was an imitation of 
 the Arabic which used various metres and rhymes. The 
 kinship of the Hebrew with thfe Arabic facilitated the carry- 
 ing over of the peculiarities of the latter and they did not 
 sound foreign. The sensation of euphony was heightened 
 and the severe discipline of fixed laws kept out the prolixity 
 of unlimited prose. Although that taking over of Arabic 
 poetic forms into the Hebrew did not revive it anew, nor 
 could acquire a lasting or scientific property for it, it was 
 yet a good educational remedy which did not miss its aim. 
 
296 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Dunash was one of the first to compose by the Arabic 
 metres, and he plumes and prides himself on that account. 
 When he lays his poem at the feet of Chasdai, he does not 
 omit to remark that it is constructed in compliance with the 
 new art of versification. He addresses Chasdai: 
 
 In song, cast into metre-mold 
 (Better. than it was made of old, 
 Perhaps it might seem bold, 
 
 I made the great improvement,) 
 
 I sing the honor and glory 
 Of the gallant man's story 
 Who knows well how to parry 
 
 Against foreign foes' intent. 
 
 He towers above all men, 
 Skilled both with sword and pen 
 He took strong cities, ten, 
 
 And forced the foes* consent. 
 
 Oh, how he has close-mown 
 The weeds so overgrown 
 When Ramir's son was thrown 
 And had to be content. 
 
 With prayer, and in bad plight 
 Without heart for a fight, 
 That king came in to write 
 
 His name to th' agreement. 
 
 Tota, the king's grandmother, 
 She, too, just like the other. 
 Surrendered with small bother 
 To diplomatic argument. 
 
 Our faith he makes secure. 
 Though 'gainst the evil-doer. 
 He cares for many poor 
 
 And helps them to ascent. 
 
 To poets does his hand 
 With gifts and cheer expand. 
 Like waters o'er the land 
 
 By clouds in rain are spent. 
 
 And in the Diaspora 
 He glorifies the Torah; 
 To th' academy in Sora 
 
 Rich presents he has sent. 
 
Menahem in Disfavor 297 
 
 We do not want to find fault with the extravagant praise 
 which his poetic verbiage renders to the great statesman and 
 gracious patron, but it wounds our feelings when he tacks to 
 that pompous halo of glory mean and cutting attacks upon 
 the meritorious scholar Menahem. For, without further 
 ado, he continues: 
 
 The false Scripture explainer, 
 The word- and meaning- sprainer 
 I meet as strong retainer, 
 
 As safe and proven guard. 
 
 And when he thus continues in many rhyming lines, we 
 regret such impassioned invective, which can find its excuse 
 only in the stormy youthfulness of the age. What effect 
 that homage, joined to the abuse of Menahem, may have 
 had upon Chasdai, we do not learn. It can not be supposed 
 that Menahem was by it crowded out of his heart. And 
 when we read the surprising account in papers which have 
 recently been found, that Menahem had once suddenly fallen 
 into disfavor with Chasdai, that the latter had even permitted 
 or himself ordered Menahem 's house demolished on a Sab- 
 bath day, there must have been some other circumstance 
 to excite Chasdai 's ill-will to such a degree. The writings 
 do not reveal the incident. We simply learn that Menahem 
 asserts his innocence and feels convinced that Chasdai will 
 also recognize it, if he will only quietly hear him and read 
 his words properly. A first address which has not come down 
 to us, seems to have borne the introduction: 
 
 Thou great pillar of honor, 
 A very fountain of fairness, 
 I adjure thee by the law 
 Of Moses the Korahite. 
 
 Oh, take notice of my excuse, 
 A hearing do not me refuse, 
 By answer return good news 
 To a soul that suffered deeply. 
 
 It very often happens in history, and specially in the 
 history of literature, that events of importance are not even 
 
298 Judaism and Its History 
 
 mentioned, and that we can only grasp at them by a tip that 
 has been preserved on account of its oddity. The letter to 
 which those uncouth verses were the introduction, has been 
 lost, but that introduction has survived the centuries on 
 account of its oddity. The strange designation of Moses as 
 Korahite — i. e., as attacked by Korah — has caused the pre- 
 servation of the lines. If the letter has not come down to 
 us, it certainly reached the hands of Chasdai, for we learn 
 the hard answer he gave to this or a later one: *'If you 
 did wrong, the punishment has made it right; if you are inno- 
 cent, I have increased your reward in the next world." A 
 bitter word, with which a proud magnate thinks to square 
 things. Menahem complains of this in a fine letter still ex- 
 isting, which keeps within the proper bounds in spite of the 
 full indignation of the injured man and the just consciousness 
 of his own innocence, and does not fail to appreciate the 
 merits of the man whom he accuses to himself. He represents 
 to Chasdai whether he may be judge in his own behalf without 
 examination or investigation, and execute such verdict; 
 whether he, a human being, could penetrate into the heart 
 and mind of another and make himself the judge of his inten- 
 tions. It seems that the former friendly relations were 
 re-established and history had spread reconciliating silence 
 upon that dissonance. And yet curiosity incites us to lift 
 the veil. What was it that could goad Chasdai to such severe 
 proceeding? 
 
 Where sure facts depart from us, supposition attempts 
 to take their place. And if we can not clear Chasdai of 
 passionate irritation, we may guess that wounded vanity 
 blinded the man. We know that Chasdai addressed an epistle 
 to the king of the Chazars, which carried the acrostic of his 
 name in the introduction. Chasdai did not write the letter 
 himself. He was a man of general scientific acquirements, 
 but not specially learned in Hebrew, though he had the title 
 of Chief of the Academy. If he had been such a scholar, 
 he would hardly have established the liberated Rabbi Moses 
 as chief of an academy with such glad haste, and contemp- 
 oraries and posterity would have also celebrated his achieve- 
 
Chasdai Shaprut 299 
 
 ments in that branch beyond the proper dues, while there is 
 perfect silence on the subject. He was a physician and 
 statesman, loved science and promoted it, without taking 
 actual, productive share in it. Surely, as he generally em- 
 ployed Menahem in such matters, he made use of him for the 
 epistle to the Chazar king, and the letter was composed and 
 made up with the acrostic by that scholar. When we con- 
 sider the matter further, we find that the introduction does 
 not end with the acrostic, but the verses run on with the 
 same rhyme. If we examine those closely, very plain frag- 
 ments of another acrostic, "Menahem BenSaruk," appear, 
 and it is very easy to restore the whole name by a few small 
 changes which correspond to the expressions and the mean- 
 ing more than they would disturb it, and the presumption is 
 near, that Menahem actually indicated his name in that way. 
 Will you call that literary vanity? It may have been, yet 
 at any rate pardonable, and it corresponded to the fashion 
 which permitted to the writers of even hymns and liturgical 
 poems such indication of their names as authors. Yet, 
 Chasdai himself, or the flatterers around him, may have 
 thought differently about it. Envious and mean, they may 
 have seized the occasion to cast suspicion on Menahem and 
 represent him as ambitious to share or even dim the glory 
 of his patron of whom he was simply the servant. And thus 
 probably the sensitiveness of Chasdai was aroused. The 
 fragmentary condition in which the name of Menahem appears 
 in the letter now, is very likely the result of intentional changes. 
 At any rate, the spirits were reconciled long ago, and 
 from Chasdai 's memory, too, that dim shadow has moved 
 away. Chasdai, Menahem, and Dunash, shine in pure lustre. 
 They are the men of the beginning and promise ; they deserved 
 to have their lives and their work considered more at length. 
 The rich Spanish-Arabian period begins with Chasdai, who 
 worked half a century to the honor of his country and for the 
 ennobling of Jewish culture. His name and those of his con- 
 temporaries are graven into history, and their monuments 
 are the more complete and finished achievements which 
 follow upon their time. 
 
VIII. 
 
 First Half of the Eleventh Century. 
 
 Whenever intellectual culture is about to begin a new 
 flight, whenever the endeavor is renewed to advance from the 
 plane of naive consideration to a higher point of view, the 
 students lean upon two ancient cultured nations and avail 
 themselves of their literatures; namely, the Hebrew and the 
 Greek. Different in their points of view, Hebraism and 
 Hellenism mutually supplement each other. Islam availed 
 itself of those resources and formed connection with them. 
 The Koran had drawn from Judaism and its bible the best 
 and noblest contents. The literature of the Moslems follow- 
 ing thereafter leaned especially upon the monuments of Greek 
 literature which came to them in translations. For Islam 
 was able to direct into its territory only the brooklets draining 
 out of those streams of life, it could not draw directly out of 
 the source. Hebrew and Greek remained entirely unknown 
 to the professors of Islam, they drew only from translations 
 which interpreted the Greek originals to them, and from that 
 which was communicated to them from Judaism. In that 
 way they received a culture that was brought to them at 
 second hand as it were; the actual spirit of the well, moving 
 and living in those fountains, did not touch them. If the 
 culture is to be a truly refreshing one, it must go up to the 
 fountain itself. Thus we see in later times, when men at the 
 resurrection of science dived with real eagerness and youthful 
 enthusiasm into the rediscovered languages of Greek and 
 Jewish antiquity, how again in the last century, after the 
 fountain has been roiled for a time, people crowded more 
 closely up to it and drank mental health out of the limpid 
 waters. 
 
 While every foreign language remained unknown to the 
 professors of Islam, the Hebrew language and literature were 
 
First Half of the Eleventh Century 301 
 
 never wholly sealed up to the Jews, and whenever a fresh 
 breath moved them, endeavor awoke to dive into the Hebrew 
 language and acquire a deeper insight into it, lively and 
 youthful, not simply as scientific impulse, but as dim con- 
 sciousness that it would bring fresh life and rejuvenation. 
 Philology appears at such times, as history teaches us, as the 
 queen of sciences ; humanism, study of humanity, is then the 
 name for knowledge of antiquity; with this knowledge, the 
 truly humane is cultivated. The labors expended on that 
 study pass, therefore, not as purely academic inquiries, but 
 are considered problems of the entire mental existence. 
 Immensely high value is attributed to linguistical discussion 
 which we now consider insignificant ; then, they are an issue 
 of the mental life's current. 
 
 Thus it occurred also within Judaism during that period; 
 the awakening culture revealed itself in the great attention 
 given to the Hebrew language. We have become acquainted 
 with that zeal in Menahem and Dunash. If the fight becomes 
 hot between them about something peculiar and insignificant, 
 that inflammability of temper finds its explanation in the 
 immense value which they necessarily had attributed to those 
 subjects that were to them more than mere learning. What 
 they had begun, their successors continued with the same 
 zeal to happier success. One pupil of Menahem is the cele- 
 brated Juda Chayug with the Arabian name Abu Sakaria 
 Jachia, the most important grammarian, who first penetrated 
 into the inner nature of the Hebrew language and first revealed 
 the triliterality of the roots, thus gaining and communicating 
 clearness in the whole view of the grammatical structure of 
 the language. The double names with which we meet among 
 the Jews of Spain consist of an Arabian, besides the Hebrew 
 name, and that is a mark of the period. As Jews, they have 
 their Hebrew names, but they lived so much within the people 
 and the language of their country, in its manners and customs, 
 that they had to bear an Aral^ian name as well, for general 
 use — a sort of double nature, repeated in later times. A suc- 
 cessor of Chayug, who immediately follows him, correcting 
 and completing, and with whom science of biblical grammar 
 
302 Judaism and Its History 
 
 ^nd lexicography of that period closes, is Jonah, Abulwalid 
 Mervan Ben Ganach. He was a physician and philosopher 
 and created an epoch as philologist by elaborating a complete 
 Hebrew grammar and a Hebrew dictionary in the Arabic 
 language and laid enduring foundations in that science. He 
 was master of the entire material, showed deep insight into 
 the structure and the fundamental traits of the language and 
 knew how to prove systematically and put into order all its 
 fine points. All later writers drew on him, and though his 
 works were hidden from those who were not masters of the 
 Arabic and are in part yet unprinted in the Hebrew transla- 
 tion because later works, made more to the taste of the time, 
 seemed to make them superfluous, the most generally accepted 
 books of instruction have all drawn from Abulwalid and the 
 most recent time has gladly turned to him again to profit from 
 his unexhausted wealth, and to receive instruction out of the 
 depth of his views. 
 
 With him we have entered into the first half of the eleventh 
 century, into the period that shows great numbers of men of 
 culture and scholars of every kind. In all branches of science, 
 men appear who reveal the profound and many-sided mental 
 movement; astronomers like Hassan Ben Hassan, also known 
 as Jekuthiel, numerous Talmudists, although that science was 
 then in Spain at an early stage and rose only later into greater 
 perfection, workers in the most various philosophical branches, 
 as also men who entered more deeply into the essence of 
 human life and endeavored to know man himself according 
 to his moral requirements. As such a one, I want to particu- 
 larly mention Bachia (Bechai) Ben Joseph Bakuda, a man of 
 an amiable sincerity, who introduces us into the depths of 
 the human heart, who deeply feels and examines its true 
 religious and moral requirements, so that, putting aside the 
 outer rubble, he dives into the stream of mental and senti- 
 mental life, permits it to rush through himself and presents 
 the refreshing waters to others. There is a certain trait of 
 pietism in him, not altogether free of tenderheartedness, but 
 otherwise of such cordiality that he knows how to break 
 through the fetters of the prescribed credence and manner 
 
Bachia 303 
 
 of action and puts mere naked doing behind fresh, living con- 
 viction. The name of his work is sufficient to show by what 
 tendency the man is ruled: "Duties of the Heart." He 
 wants to present what the heart feels as obligatory and what 
 it requires for its ennobling. He lets man descend into him- 
 self that he may become conscious of his advantages and 
 abilities and strive to cultivate and develop them, but also 
 to recognize his shortcomings and finiteness and humbly labor 
 towards perfection. ** Duties of the heart,'* he says, "surely 
 precede duties of the limbs as the compliance with a mere 
 commandment. Works, that are outside of me, which I can 
 thoughtlessly practice with hands or feet, are not the highest 
 goal of man; such is rather the awakening within himself of 
 the consciousness of the duties of the heart to gain strength 
 by them." And this man was Dayan (judge), by office and 
 calling, a religious leader of the community, and thereby his 
 time is yet more distinctly characterized by the circumstance 
 that men of his position place disposition and conviction 
 higher than ritual performance and learning. It surprises 
 him, he said, to see how many raise the most remote questions 
 and make searching investigations about particulars relating 
 to ceremonies which occur but rarely. Upon such a question 
 once addressed to him, he replied: "My dear, you must 
 surely have advanced very far in the culture of your heart. 
 Have you actually achieved so much along that line that you 
 have leisure to investigate such rare matters?" A beautiful 
 period that holds such a man. 
 
 Song and poetry in the Hebrew language were cultivated 
 with particular enthusiasm. As scientific knowledge of the 
 language stood high then, they wanted to have full possession 
 of it, sing in it and make poems in it. Such an undertaking 
 could not succeed ; a language that has departed out of every- 
 day life is not fitted for song welling forth from the heart. 
 And yet the attempt was natural, and we see it come out at 
 all periods of awakening culture. With the revival of the 
 sciences and the resurrection of classic antiquity, men dived 
 into the Latin and Greek languages and attempted to make 
 poems in them as if they were the speech of head and heart* 
 
304 Judaism and Its History 
 
 To the Jews, the Hebrew was much nearer; for it was the 
 language of their religious life, of their divine service, and 
 seemed thus to be well fitted for the expression of deepest 
 sentiment. Therefore, while scientific works were written in 
 Arabic, poetry was composed in Hebrew. Two men in par- 
 ticular attract our attention ; one more by the wide compass 
 of his knowledge, the wealth of his effectiveness, and at the 
 same time, the many-sided attempts in various branches of 
 literary activity to which his poetical works also belong. I 
 mean Samuel Ha-Levi, surnamed Ha-Nagid, or the prince, 
 with the Arabian name Ibn Nagdilah. 
 
 Samuel is an elevating character. Of plain station, he 
 rises to the visierate at the court of the calif of Granada. 
 He was born at Cordova, but persecutions occurring there 
 drove him out of that city. For even in that time, shining 
 to us in the poetic shimmer of distance, violent eruptions 
 were not infrequent. Rebellion against one dynasty broke 
 forth, and it was crowded out by another; incursions of the 
 Berbers from North Africa threatened to suffocate the flowers 
 of culture and, at any rate, frequently shook the secure posi- 
 tion of the thrones. Thus, that period must not appear to 
 us too ideal; it did not enjoy undisturbed evolution; civil 
 welfare and mental progress were often interrupted by rough 
 blows. Only they were passing convulsions, not the con- 
 stant pressure, almost enacted into law, as it was the rule in 
 the Christian Middle Ages. By such a convulsion, Samuel 
 was driven out of Cordova. In Malaga, where he went and 
 where the calif of Granada had established his seat for awhile, 
 he became known to his visier and used by him. And before 
 his death, that officer recommended Samuel to the calif as 
 his successor, perhaps because he had recognized him as a 
 well-cultured, adroit and reliable man, who was master of the 
 Arabic language up to its most artistic, pompous forms. 
 Samuel obtained the visierate and remained in that place in 
 the empire for a long succession of years; his sincerity and 
 good sense, his ability joined with modesty, caused him to 
 surmount all difficulties arising on numerous occasions. 
 While he thus showed himself thoroughly equal to his position 
 
Gabirol 305 
 
 as statesman, he shines to posterity also as one of the most 
 important scholars in many fields. He was head of the acad- 
 emy, an important Talmudist, author of scholarly works, 
 entertained a lively correspondence with scholars in various 
 countries and left a large number of Hebrew poems which, 
 if they do not exhibit special genius, yet are not without skill 
 and fine expression in their language. He died highly 
 honored in 1055, and left the visierate to his son, who is also 
 greatly praised, but who, grown up in position and affluence, 
 did not possess the modesty of his father, and lost his life 
 during a riot. 
 
 A man of different kind, and towering high above his 
 time, is Solomon Gabirol, also named Aba Ajub Suleiman Ben 
 Gebrol. Sublime is the poetic tale of antiquity, how the men 
 of the days of yore shake at the bars of their finite power and 
 endeavor to acquire their full independence. The Titans 
 pile mountain upon mountain to storm the heavens; the men 
 of one language and one speech want to build in Babylon's 
 wide plain, a city with a tower the point of which shall reach 
 into heaven, in order that, relying upon their own power, they 
 may have a guarantee of endurance and preservation. Such 
 bold aspiration of man fails on account of his weakness, and 
 results in punishment and fall. Yet more sublime is the 
 poetic conception that presents man in his mental strife, how 
 he wants to break through the narrow confines that surround 
 his mind, by penetrating the darkness of the moral order of 
 the world. Job carries the consciousness of his virtue and 
 purity with a certain intrepidity into the fight against the 
 mishaps of life; he calls eternal justice to account: *'Why 
 all this to me? Do I not rate higher than my fate? And yet 
 such things happen to me?" In that strife of moral indigna- 
 tion with the afflictions of life lies* an elevation and dignity 
 that we feel ourselves lifted up with the wrangler in spite of 
 his afflictions. Composed, we enter with him again into the 
 subjection to the higher spirit of God, who reveals Himself 
 to him in His infinite sublimity. Still more profound and 
 ingenious is it, when the poet of modern times presents Faust 
 to us, as he tries to penetrate into the depths of knowledge, 
 
306 Judaism and Its History 
 
 see the veil lifted from the secret of creation, descend into the 
 web and woof of the source of force and spirit, work with 
 them, and thus solve the riddle of all existence, impatiently 
 wants to become master of his mental finiteness and limitation. 
 Deep is his fall when he sinks from that presumptuous height 
 into sensuality to suffocate his high endeavor in it. Only 
 through the naivety of an innocent, pure being that becomes 
 chained to him, he is saved. Such a Faust-nature, but with- 
 out any mixture of sensuality, without desire of exhausting 
 the enjoyment of life at one time and of draining the cup to 
 the lees, such a nature is Solomon Gabirol. A man whose life 
 is an uninterrupted wrestling to descend into the deepest 
 secrets of existence, to apprehend the driving wheel of mind 
 and life and of the forces which bind the universe together. 
 Such men are driven by a constant unrest; they are never 
 satisfied within themselves, because they never reach the goal 
 for. which they strive without ceasing. The ideal appears to 
 them from afar in its full grace and beauty, they rush after 
 it, they think of seizing it, and it disappears. Yet they never 
 weaken, they begin the race anew, they rise with the bold 
 flight of enthusiasm to come near to the last reason of things, 
 they weaken in their flight but still rise again. Deep gloom 
 surrounds such men, a world-pain, or rather a knowledge- 
 pain, goes through their soul, and yet it is like the cloud that 
 veils the divine glory and reflects it at the same time. When 
 they enter into the reality, it appears naked and bald to them, 
 they do not find their ideals materialized. The idea, as it 
 enters the material, visible world, appears to them broken, 
 dishonored, profaned, and they run over with complaints 
 about the insusceptibility of their contemporaries for the 
 grand and sublime, complaints which appear to us often very 
 bitter and unjust. They throw their whole contempt upon 
 their own time especially; the former times, they think, may 
 have been better. The difference between the ideal and the 
 actual is with them too great, so that a just verdict can 
 hardly be expected from them. They would like to join in 
 close communion with individuals, their heart longs for a 
 mind of like tone ; sometimes they think of having found one 
 
Gabirol 307 
 
 to whom they may pour out their impulse, but alas! it was 
 an illusion. Some come to them with the self-complacency 
 of a Wagner, admire and praise their great knowledge without 
 surmising the depth of their soul. From the other ones with 
 the practical understanding who in addition think themselves 
 far superior to such noble souls, they turn away with the 
 same indignation as from the serfs of sensuality. And thus 
 they remain lonesome and alone. 
 
 Such a man is Solomon Gabirol, a poet whose poems are 
 consecrated, full of thought, a thinker whose thoughts are 
 poetically transfigured. When Charisi, the later poet and 
 aesthetic critic, gives his verdict upon the various earlier 
 poets, it seems as if the flight of Gabirol's muse had lent him 
 wings, as he characterizes him with a few words: 
 
 A king he stands, sublime and grand, alone; 
 The song of songs is made by Solomon. 
 
 Sublime, high, is with him both thought and word. — ^Who 
 goes up into heaven and brings them from there? — His songs 
 for fast -days are beautiful — wonderfully powerful — his 
 prayers for repentance hours give odor like beds of flowers 
 — incomparable is his figure's force — unattainable the word 
 as it powerfully roars. 
 
 Legend loves to glorify the childhood of great men. It 
 is spared the trouble in Gabirol's case, for he stands out 
 finished, scarcely beyond the years of childhood. At the age 
 of sixteen, he says of himself: 
 
 A boy of sixteen years f 
 
 In experience of gray hairs. 
 
 In experience, not in the sense of having lived many years . 
 and gained knowledge of the world, but experienced in the 
 painful sense that the dissonance between the ideal and the 
 actual had then already sounded within him, and that he felt 
 it as if a rent had set his heart a-trembling. He punishes him- 
 self for breaking out into such painful complaints at so early 
 an age and for not overcoming them, because he can not quit 
 his high aim: 
 
308 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Does plaint fit one of sixteen years 
 Bemoaning disappointment in his life? 
 With cheeks like the morning's ray 
 With the youngsters I ought to play. 
 But no; my heart so old in manner 
 Enrolled me under wisdom's banner, 
 And thus my youth has disappeared, 
 And the road for pain was cleared. 
 Sighing and groaning close to me keep. 
 If I see pleasure, I have to weep. 
 What profits the tear? Vain conceit! 
 What promises hope? Pale deceit! 
 They say some balsam will make me sound; 
 Me? who is down with mortal wound. 
 
 It may have once been better, but what use is that to 
 
 him? ^^ 
 
 What use my plaint, my pine, 
 That the world is not perfected? 
 No doubt it once was very fine — 
 My coming's time's too late selected. 
 
 He lived at first at Saragossa, whose inhabitants certainly 
 were not the worst among the Jews of Spain; Bachia too, 
 whom we have mentioned before, seems to have been a resi- 
 dent of that city. Of course they did not come up to Gabirol's 
 ideal. 
 
 With this bad generation I am in sore plight, 
 
 What I call left, they call that right; 
 
 Lonesome like a grave it is all around, 
 
 My house feels like a coffin, I am so bound. 
 
 Yet I must sit in their council's assembly 
 
 And must hear their senseless babble. 
 
 For around me are fools and hinds 
 
 Who think themselves giant minds. 
 
 They would give me wormwood to sip 
 
 With smiling mien and flattering lip 
 
 And bitter hatred in their heart. 
 
 When I hear them speak, it makes me start. 
 
 It seems as if they're whispering Latin apart. 
 
 What profit to me if poet I am, 
 
 To sing for that kind of rabble? 
 
 'Tis better I loose every latchet, 
 
 And chop them up with my tongue for hatchet. 
 
Gabirol 309 
 
 He entertained at times very friendly relations with 
 Samuel Ha-Levi. The noble prince probably liked to see the 
 excellent man in his neighborhood, recognized his worth and 
 valued him accordingly, but he was a poet himself and per- 
 haps felt a rival's jealousy. Gabirol sang the fame of Samuel 
 now and then, but we catch discords too, which sound through 
 their relations. A short verse of Gabirol's, preserved by 
 chance, reveals the tension. It says: 
 
 ^I feel so cold, I am chilled most stiff and tight 
 As if I heard a song by Samuel the Levite. 
 
 Such sharp scorn sounds through other poems. Epicurean 
 worldlings approach him to be wise, to live like others, to 
 apply the world's pleasures against melancholy, and to drown 
 his pain in wine. But he opposes that with that deep, nobler 
 pain which mocks at such remedies: 
 
 With tears thy grief thou dost bemoan 
 Tears that would melt the hardest stone. 
 Oh, wherefor sing'st thou not the vine? 
 Why chant'st thou not the praise of wine? 
 
 But I : Poor fools the wine may cheat, 
 Lull them with lying visions sweet; 
 Upon the wings of storms may bear 
 The heavy burden of their care; 
 The father's heart may harden so 
 He feeleth not his own child's woe. 
 
 No ocean is the cup, no sea, 
 To drown my broad, deep misery. 
 It grows so rank; you cut it all, 
 The aftermath springs just as tall. 
 My heart and flesh are worn away, 
 I Mine eyes are darkened from the day. 
 
 The lovely morning red behold 
 Wave to the breeze her flag of gold 
 The hosts of stars above the world 
 Like banners vanishing are furled. 
 The dew shines bright; I bide forlorn. 
 And shudder with the chill of morn. 
 
 There is but one thing by which he can overcome his pain, 
 
310 Judaism and Its History 
 
 that same which produces the pain — investigation, striving 
 for the goal of his desire : 
 
 Endowed with the strength, never shall I cease 
 
 Until I finish what I swore to do. 
 
 If Time does melt me up, as fire melts gold, 
 
 Yet shall I faithful be to wisdom, ever true. 
 
 If Time for me would not put saddle on his racer 
 
 Yet did I dare the ride, as long as life does last, 
 
 I'll not surrender, and shall yet succeed; 
 
 My heart is strong, courageous, too, indeed. 
 
 I've often wrestled hard with fate: 
 
 I have not conquered it, it has not mastered me. 
 
 The same decision breathes through another song: 
 
 My soul, thou'rt whirring, the thoughts 
 
 Are tottering restless about. 
 
 As clouds of smoke are curling aloft 
 
 When flames are starting up. 
 
 Perhaps thou art a wheel, circling the earth, 
 
 A sea in which the cares are heaving, 
 
 A maelstrom in the swirl of which 
 
 The earth's foundations are a-sinking? 
 
 The world thou didst not court, and it knows 
 
 How to richly requite thee with trouble. 
 
 Quit wisdom's path, and that same world 
 
 Will hand to thee its festive garments. 
 
 This is what makes me full of sorrow, 
 
 Who'll cure me of this pain so sharp? 
 
 I'm looking for a man of mind and spirit — 
 
 In vain! My chase has no result. 
 
 And if the world has but illusion, 
 
 I'll spit at its deceptive image, 
 
 I want it not if to my light its 
 
 Eye is dimmed and veiled and blind; 
 
 And yet, how I should love it, 
 
 If kind and friendly face it would show me. 
 
 Enough of wickedness has been accomplished. 
 
 Face right about, O world, and turn thy wheel; 
 
 Full long enougn the wise and honest 
 
 Thou hast selected to do slaves* work. 
 
 *Tis long enough that noble cedars 
 
 Have been esteemed like useless brush ; 
 
 Oh take away the wicked wights 
 
 Who, because hollow, are puffed up so much. 
 
Gabirol 311 
 
 If by justice, thy award is made, 
 They should not harvest all the joys, 
 Nor choose the daughters of the sun 
 To propagate their folly. 
 
 Is it your quarrel, O thorny labyrinths, 
 
 That I descend into the depths 
 
 Of wisdom, dig her treasures? 
 
 Because you can not see, you ask 
 
 That I be blind to all her lustre, 
 
 And dissolve my covenant with her 
 
 Ordained by God's own power. 
 
 How could I leave thee, lovely mother, 
 
 Who kindly bendest to thy child? 
 
 How could I cast away the soul's treasures, 
 
 Tear from my head thy glorious diadem? 
 
 While her Eden's streams are running 
 
 Mighty, yet so clear and mild, 
 
 O sweetest pleasure, heart's refreshment 
 
 Which all along their shores I find ! 
 
 Therefore, my soul, get up and rise. 
 
 At her sun, get your fire, 
 
 And swear it loud and firm: 
 
 I'll search until I find the Source. 
 
 Thus does Gabirol's spirit wrestle boldly titanic in many- 
 grand poems in which his true sentiment is expressed more 
 deeply than in the many religious ones which do not deny 
 his wrestling but still follow the customary views more closely. 
 And a peculiar force is in those, too. A few out of the great 
 plenty which are yet in use in many of our houses of worship 
 may serve as proof. 
 
 At dawn and in the evening 
 I seek Thee, rock and lord. 
 To give my heart an opening 
 And speak a praying word. 
 Afraid I stand, and anxious; 
 I know Thine eye has caught 
 The most secret of my thought 
 Before the word can sound. 
 Withal, what is the force of thought 
 What does the word avail, 
 Howe'er it boldly soar aloft 
 Or try a pleading, soft? 
 
312 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Yet Thou art pleased with praise 
 And thanks in songs of men to Thee, 
 And so I'll sound it merrily 
 As long Thy breath's in me. 
 
 Another: 
 
 Before mine eyes, three things stand firmly founded 
 
 Of which each one Thy name has sounded : 
 
 I see Thee when the high heavens I regard 
 
 Which 'round the earth, proclaiming Thee, is wound. 
 
 The earth itself, my dwelling place, incites the mind, 
 
 That in its structure, the master it may find. 
 
 And my soul praises my God in glee, 
 
 When by introspection it finds itself of Thee. 
 
 Entering still deeper into Jewish life, and joining more 
 closely to customary manner, his muse sounds in accords no 
 less gracious and strong: 
 
 Judge of the world, take a pleasure 
 In our morning prayers' measure, 
 As of old, in the Temple's time, 
 When the priest yet did the pleading, 
 When he did the interceding 
 With the sacrificial odors rising. 
 
 Mercy and pity and grace is Thy name, 
 Merit of our own we can not claim. 
 Kindly remember our forefathers' deeds, 
 Accept it if their memory for us pleads 
 For their sake accept our supplication 
 As at the sacrificial odors rising. 
 
 Thou always lettest mercy prevail. 
 When we tremble in balancing scale. 
 Impress with Thy grace's bliss 
 The loving, fatherly kiss 
 On the forehead of all Thy children 
 As at the sacrificial odors rising. 
 
 Remember Zion, once so praised! 
 Let the mild light now be raised 
 O'er the minds of all mankind. 
 That Thy laws* truth they may find 
 As once from the Temple's court 
 With the sacrificial odors rising. 
 
Gabirol 313 
 
 God alone can be your stay; 
 If you walk along His way 
 He turns the threatened wrath 
 Mildly into pardon's path, 
 Lets repentance be advising 
 As at the sacrificial odors rising. 
 
 No wonder when his word sounds also cutting and gloomy 
 against the oppressors, against Christians (Edom) and 
 Moslems (Ishmael): 
 
 The foe's triumphant. I am down, exhausted. 
 To wild and rough, untamed hordes a prey; 
 Plaint of my pain in words I dare not say; 
 A trembling lamb, a beggar by the way. 
 O God, when will relief come to Thy throng! 
 When will this end? O Lord, how long! 
 
 Babel oppressed me down to its very fall. 
 Then Persians, Greeks, and Edom's nations all, 
 Till, fugitive, I roam from land to land, 
 Ishmael, too, strikes me with heavy hand. 
 Four hundred sixty and one years* so strong — 
 When will this end? O Lord, how long! 
 
 The first redemption to Abram was revealed. 
 
 The second was to Jeremiah's word fulfilled, 
 
 The third was told in enigmatic writ 
 
 To Daniel, but its solution deeply hid, 
 
 No clue to questioner's mind, however strong — 
 
 When will this end? O Lord, how long? 
 
 After such serious poems, let us listen to a merry song. 
 He had been invited to a banquet by a certain Moses; the 
 wine provided was but a small quantity and soon drunk up. 
 The guests had to be satisfied with water. With mock 
 mourning and comical indignation, Gabirol complains of the 
 misfortune and laughs at the miser who causes the wine 
 (Hebrew yayin, the letters used as numbers equal to 70) to be 
 crowded out by water (mayim, equal to 90) : 
 
 Gone is the wine! 
 Oh torture of mine! 
 My eye overflows 
 With water. 
 
 * The year 461 of the Hegira: 1169 A. C. 
 
314 Judaism and Its History 
 
 The Seventy is full of the fire of youth 
 Banished is he by the Ninety-Monster uncouth. 
 
 Now quit your singing, 
 
 The glasses stop ringing, 
 Full of water, and water, and water. 
 
 From the bread has parted its flavor, 
 From the meat, too, has fled all savor; 
 
 I am not even myself 
 
 When cups come from shelf 
 Full of water, and water, and water. 
 
 By Moses were dried up the sea and its showers, 
 The Nile's flood changed. But this Moses of ours 
 
 O Heavens! makes drip, 
 
 O Heavens! makes sip 
 But water, and water, and water. 
 
 To a frog to turn me he'd like. 
 To croak like a frog by the dyke, 
 
 He never tires quite 
 
 To shriek and invite 
 Quaff water, and water, and water. 
 
 Turn hermit, if you live ever so long! 
 
 May drink ne'er refresh you, enjoy never song, 
 
 And the children when near, 
 
 May cry in your ear: 
 Bring water, and water, and water. 
 
 As Gabirol reveals as poet his desire to apprehend the first 
 cause, so he attempts as philosopher such a mental flight with 
 the full fervor of his soul and the energy of his will. The 
 work which contains the results of his thoughts was composed 
 in the Arabic language and is no longer extant in the original 
 and exists only in translations. Its name is *'The Source of 
 Life." The Neoplatonists are undoubtedly his instructors. 
 Like them, he uses the method, not to get up to the infinite 
 and unfathomable by gradual rising from the comminuted 
 actuality, but to sink into the all-sun with intuitive view, in 
 order to recognize how all is illuminated by its rays, to seize 
 the absolute in genial flight and to comprehend how it pene- 
 trates with creative necessity into constantly lowering circles. 
 His doctrine is a doctrine of emanation, divine omnipotence 
 
Gabirol 315 
 
 pours out in its plenty and inexhaustibility, and thus gradually 
 arise weaker mental formations which close together into 
 constantly narrowing forms until it arrives at our sober world 
 in which we must breathe, but from which we can lift ourselves 
 up to the first cause, the all-spirit, the impregnating stream 
 of all existence. Yet the divine creative energy is not blind 
 necessity; it is the mighty Will which freely emanates from 
 Divinity to form and sustain its creations through the times. 
 We can not follow that system further here. But it is 
 recognized that Gabirol in the boldness of his thought reminds 
 us of Spinoza to whom he has been frequently compared in 
 recent times, even if he does not approach him in plastic quiet 
 and consistency, while he towers above him in fervor and 
 poetic talent. His theory of the will reminds us of Schopen- 
 hauer, who stands far below him in moral enthusiasm and 
 depth of investigation. Like both, he went lonesome and 
 alone through the world, recognized during his life and in later 
 times as a great man but yet not fully estimated according to 
 his high importance. After eight centuries, let us put the 
 wreath of honor on the head of Gabirol. Like one de- 
 scended from unapproachable heights, unrecognized, he ran 
 his race in life's arena. Rubbish and gravel soon piled up 
 around his writings. His philosophical work, translated into 
 Latin, was much used by the scholiasts of the Middle Ages, 
 called by a name that hardly makes Gabirol known; viz., 
 Avizebron or Avencebrol, which is nothing else than Aben 
 Gebrol. A later Hebrew translation, rather abbreviated, 
 remained altogether unknown. After the middle of the 
 thirteenth century, history is almost silent about the laborious 
 work of his thoughts. Of his best poems, many have been 
 lost, many were long covered up, only a few of his religious 
 pieces have preserved the name Gabirol to recent times. 
 And only now he has in a certain way been again discovered 
 and properly estimated. We are far removed from him. A 
 long interval of time, development broadly swollen in the 
 meantime, separates us from him, in strange garb and in 
 distant views he appears before us. Yet the high and deeply 
 furrowed forehead of the thinker bids us reverence, the fervid 
 
316 Judaism and Its History 
 
 eye of the talented poet flashes toward us, and thus we repeat 
 after Charisi: 
 
 A king he stands, sublime and grand, alone! 
 
IX. 
 
 The Orient, Spain from 1070 to 1140. 
 
 The first half of the eleventh century in Spain reminds the 
 observer of the time of maturing youth. To the able and 
 aspiring youth a new mental world is opening; his enraptured 
 eye rests upon it, he dives with pleasure into it, endeavors to 
 enrich and deepen his knowledge in all directions. In that 
 occupation he is so happy, and he is so taken up with it that 
 he hardly takes notice of the world around him; he does not 
 bother about the contradictions which stand in the actuality 
 against his ideals; and pursuing these, he lets the other be 
 and merrily enjoys what is offered to him. The man who has 
 arrived at his conclusions and lives no longer within himself, 
 takes offense at the actuality much more easily; the fight 
 between that which he has formed within himself and strives 
 for, and that which exists and which he can execute and com- 
 plete, comes to him nearer and more oppressive. The time 
 of that age was a period of youth and men dive into the great 
 mental treasury which they elaborate farther. Culture grows 
 up richer, it completely fills minds according to their different 
 bents; each one cultivates his own branch, tries to make 
 himself feel at home in it according to his condition and 
 occupation and to complete his knowledge through the 
 progress made elsewhere. Whatever was valid in actual life 
 was left alone without taking offence at it. The contra- 
 dictions between the results of thought and the existing ordi- 
 nances remained yet covered and did not come forward with 
 great distinctness so that they would have come into collision. 
 Everybody was too busy with himself for entertaining any 
 desire to start a fight between the external actuality and the 
 pressure for transformation. Spain's development went on 
 happily natural. It had no fixed ancient learning against 
 which the new culture arose as an alien thing. The Jewish 
 
318 Judaism and Its History 
 
 population had passed over out of plain conditions into the 
 new culture, and that spread equally in all directions, philo- 
 sophical, linguistical, Talmudical, each peaceably communi- 
 cating with the others. 
 
 It was different in the empire of the Arabian East. There, 
 an old Talmudic learning had become already fixed since the 
 Babylonian time. There was the seat of the Gaonate, those 
 Talmudical excellencies who were acknowledged as the 
 highest religious authorities, who sought and found their 
 importance in their Talmudic learning. When the new culture 
 arose with Islam, the contradiction was soon felt, and the 
 attempts at compromise and reconciliation were not sufficient, 
 especially as the culture in the East was soon dimmed, and 
 fell into decline. So we meet at that period with a man who 
 at the last yet vigorously upheld the Gaonate, and imparted 
 to it a rich glory like a fine sunset on its sky. It broke down 
 soon after him. The Gaon at Pumbeditha, Hai Ben Sherira 
 — his father too, had been Gaon and had acquired great fame 
 as such — was justly considered a great Talmudic authority. 
 He possessed rich, many-sided knowledge, but was not favor- 
 ably inclined toward science and especially toward philosophy. 
 In a letter of his to his influential contemporary in high 
 position in Spain, whom we know already, prince Samuel 
 Ha-Levi, who probably had announced to him his appoint- 
 ment as visier and head of the academy, and asked advice of 
 the older authority, he writes impressively, warning against 
 surrender to tempting science, and exhorts him to avoid the 
 snares of logic which catch everything in the net of reason and 
 rules of thought. He says science had been given entry for a 
 time in Bagdad and permitted to influence the religious life; 
 there too the assertion had been made that true knowledge 
 of religion could only be attained by investigation and 
 philosophical study. But it was soon shown that it only leads 
 away from compliance with the commandments and ordi- 
 nances and brings unbelief. Gaon Samuel (Ben Chofni, 
 Hai's father-in-law in Sora) had cultivated science but had 
 given it up after he found out that it led into error. 
 
 In fact, we learn of Samuel many bold sayings. For 
 
The Orient, Spain from 1070 to 1140 319 
 
 instance, when Saadias — and Hai concurring with him — had 
 said of the witch of Endor, that she could not have conjured 
 Samuel up through her own power, but that God had made 
 an arrangement by which Samuel appeared at the same time 
 when the conjuration took place, Chofni rejects that con- 
 ception as an improper one: ''Nothing is to be accepted as 
 true, that contradicts reason." The tale should rather be 
 considered a vain pretence of the witch who fraudulently 
 said that she saw Samuel, when there was nothing to see. 
 Hai does not rise to such boldness. 
 
 The Talmudical writings contain legends of many kinds. 
 They are products of the people*s poetic imagination, folk- 
 lore, brought forth by the people when on the child's plane, 
 bearing its mark. One hardly knows whether they are a 
 merry play of poetic fancy or arise with a claim of full belief; 
 such twilight of opinion corresponds to the child's plane of 
 culture. But when time has progressed, people become 
 serious and want a decisive verdict upon them. Talmudical 
 scholars who cultivate science, leave such legends aside or 
 treat them as dreams, visions that appeared to one or the 
 other teacher, or they give them symbolic interpretation. 
 Hai would not accept such expedient, he sticks to the plain, 
 natural conception and, even if he does not want to place the 
 most decisive importance upon the matter and find the center 
 of faith in them, he yet asks what objection there be to 
 believing that the heroes of a later time were also glorified by 
 divine apparitions and that extraordinary things had hap- 
 hapened to them. — Thus in the East. 
 
 In North Africa we meet yet excellent scholars whose ideas 
 were more for compromise, but who occupied a strict Tal- 
 mudical stand and acquired important fame. Hai enjoyed 
 great respect in Spain; he was honored and when he died 
 (1038), he was deeply mourned and celebrated for his great 
 poetic merits. And yet his tendency did not carry the day. 
 Prince Samuel, to whom the above-mentioned letter was 
 addressed, as practical statesman may have kept away from 
 high-flying metaphysical speculations, but he was a man too 
 highly educated and too much of a bel-esprit to run against 
 
320 Judaism and Its History 
 
 the fruits of culture as they had matured in Spain. On the 
 contrary, the general cultivation of learning increased con- 
 tinually and scientific labors expanded. Great Talmudists 
 also appear in the succeeding generation. Five men are 
 named to us, all bearing the name Isaac; four of them born 
 in Spain; all of them, in addition to being excellent teachers 
 of the Talmud, were well versed in the various sciences. One 
 was an astronomer, another a poet, the third was a philos- 
 opher, and the fourth a linguist, and thus science and religious 
 discipline went together, hand in hand. The fifth Isaac, a 
 very famous Talmudist, Isaac Alfasi, was not born in Spain 
 but came from North Africa and was head of the most im- 
 portant school at Lucena. We know him as important only 
 in his field, the Tahnudlcal literature. But with what clear- 
 ness he treats that; what soft, cultured breath wafts through 
 that dry work which puts the results of the Talmud together. 
 Nowhere appears rude bluntness, there is no hard word 
 against science; on the contrary, many a point is bent and 
 many an edge is smoothed. 
 
 In all branches of knowledge men arise who promote 
 investigation and define the results. They are again crowded 
 out by men of the succeeding generation, so that we know 
 their names but only few of their works; and thus it may 
 suffice if I name only one; Moses Ben Samuel Gikatilia, who 
 belongs to the second half of the eleventh century and stands 
 very high as grammarian, as linguist of fine feeling and as 
 explainer of the bible. By the few fragments which have 
 come down to us of his works, we recognize the independent 
 thinker and critic who acts in the explanation of Scripture 
 with bold frankness, lays hold of the problems with clear view 
 and presses them toward their solution. 
 
 Even with an uninterrupted, quiet development, the 
 contrasts would gradually sharpen and the inner, undimmed 
 joy could not last. But in the first half of the twelfth century, 
 events were preparing that must effect a change. The power 
 of Islam in Spain began to decline. The realm was divided 
 among several small dynasties which lost in respect and 
 importance. From North Africa more and more Berber 
 
Decline of Arabian Power in Spain 321 
 
 tribes forced an entry, savage, refractory hordes, who soon 
 acquired the ascendency over the effeminate Arabians of 
 Spain. After having made their conquests, the intruders 
 were yet slowly civilized, but the stability of state and of 
 culture were threatened by them. The time was long past 
 when the mighty arm of Abdorrahman III. united nearly the 
 whole of Spain under his califate and held down every re- 
 sistance of the original population. But now the old Romanic 
 Christian population arose in opposition to the divided prin- 
 cipalities which weakened themselves still more by mutual 
 feuds. It was especially Castile where the Romanic or 
 Christian element erected a bulwark. There the church of 
 the Middle Ages first founded its power firmly, and from 
 there the excursions constantly penetrated, conquering deeper 
 into Spain. 
 
 The influences upon culture in general and upon Jewish cul- 
 ture in particular were of a wholly different kind from those 
 proceeding from Islam. Islam is poor, has few religious prin- 
 ciples, bases itself altogether on the belief in the unity and 
 omnipotence of God and takes little account of all other aspects 
 of God and man. It therefore offers few points of support for 
 speculation, but on the same account it opposes fewer obstacles 
 and barriers to a free development of reason and science. 
 Culture within Islam perished through the brutality of the 
 tribes that surged over it, not through inner contradiction which 
 Islam itself raises against culture. It was different with the 
 church of the Middle Ages. According to her origin she made 
 it her task to unite Judaism and paganism within herself. Juda- 
 ism offered the pure spirituality of God, His unity. His infinity 
 and perfection, the unlimited in God which therefore can not 
 be attained by any physical representation, to whom no 
 image can correspond, for which even the word remains 
 insufficient, the all-comprehending, unseizable, impalpable to 
 which thought can not rise perfectly, and so much less, the 
 senses. On the contrary, paganism elaborated its ideals to 
 the senses. Its divinities were not perfect beings, they were 
 only more perfect than men, they were seizable ideals, could 
 be copied in individual appearances, art could approach them 
 
322 Judaism and Its History 
 
 and present them to view. The church of the Middle Ages 
 had the endeavor to unite those two contrasts within herself. 
 The infinite, limitless, and spiritual on the one side, and yet 
 on the other side again, the individual, corporeal, palpable, 
 appearing in human shape, and represen table to human 
 senses. In the expression "Godman," those contrasts are 
 forced together into a word which language attains by side- 
 by-side position, without designating a clear thought by it. 
 But the church strove to reconcile those two contrasts, or 
 rather, to push and slide them into each other and thus to 
 assert them as an actually existing unity. She fought against 
 every tendency which placed one of the sides in the back- 
 ground and did not permit in that union either the divine 
 in its ideal unity, or the human, to come forward sufficiently. 
 Either was heresy. The two natures of equal power, the 
 human and the divine in their union, in perfect mutual pene- 
 tration, that was fixed as the only true faith. 
 
 That desire, to slide the corporeal and the spiritual, the 
 sensible and the infinite supersensible into each other, resounds 
 everywhere as supreme principle in the church. From that 
 follows the other desire, that in certain corporeal apparitions, 
 the fullness of the spirit should be recognized as perfectly 
 indwelling. In the host, divinity itself was to be; from the 
 relics or fragments of saints* bodies, spiritual mercies were to 
 proceed. The individual, ecclesiastical actions did not pass 
 as simple means serving for consecration and religious uplift; 
 they became sacraments, including within themselves a full- 
 ness of divinity and mercy which pours out upon the per- 
 former. Such a religious tendency prescribes certain results 
 to philosophy, it does not remain passive about the product 
 of speculation, it dictates where the striving must arrive and 
 what its goal must be. It commands — as it actually hap- 
 pened during the long period of the church's dominion over 
 the minds — that the greatest efforts be made to comprehend 
 and unify those contrasts. Truly astonishing resources of 
 mind have been exhausted and wasted without the Middle Ages 
 arriving at anything beyond formulas and skeleton scholastics. 
 At a later period, the church itself fought against the con- 
 
Tendency of the Church 323 
 
 sequences of that basic tendency. Protestantism put aside 
 the most glaring parts without, however, surrendering the 
 root out of which they had naturally sprouted, and thus the 
 contrasts are now, as then, unreconciled in their existence. 
 Whether a solution may yet be attained, can be left to the 
 future. The church of the Middle Ages put the contrasts 
 side by side without permitting them to be considered con- 
 trasts; they should rather be recognized as perfectly united 
 and mutually penetrated. 
 
 Where the church dominated, that tendency was the 
 mental air that was breathed by all, even those who did not 
 profess Christianity. Its influence upon the development of 
 Judaism within the Christian countries can not be misunder- 
 stood. Its full measure appears only later when the undis- 
 puted domination of the church asserted itself. The later 
 Jewish mystic is a product of that influence; the cabala with 
 its effort to prove how divinity limits itself to let the ter- 
 restrial proceed from it, how the terrestrial beings on their 
 side affect the spiritual order of the universe by the practice 
 of the several ceremonies, and how thus a mutual penetration 
 and interweaving arises. But even at that time and especially 
 in Castile, that basic tendency of the church could not fail to 
 have a partial effect upon the conception of Judaism, especially 
 upon such men as felt the want of a fervent heart and had 
 a poetic temperament. While fully rooted in Judaism, they 
 took a certain coloring from the church, because just for 
 poetic temperaments such a tendency has great attraction. 
 For as it put fetters on speculation and liberty of philos- 
 ophical and clear thought, the heart and fancy love to pour 
 out all their riches upon the singular, to reverse the individual 
 and palpable as something higher, to embrace with all fervor 
 and to spread the whole glory of the divine over it. 
 
 We meet a thinker of poetic geniality who remains an 
 ornament of Judaism for all times and yet appears with the 
 designated coloring of his views in Juda Ha-Levi, Arabian 
 name Abul Hassan, born about 1080 in Castile, died about 
 1140 in Palestine. Juda is an amiable character and im- 
 portant man. Not satisfied with that speculation which 
 
324 Judaism and Its History 
 
 feeds on philosophic generalities, he demands something more 
 personally seizable upon which he can lean his warm heart 
 and which he can take into his poetic breast. To recognize 
 God, the proof which rises from full actuality into constantly 
 attenuated abstraction, does not suffice to him; that is not 
 sufficiently alive for him, is nothing individual which one 
 may love, worship and revere. Of course he carries Him 
 within, in his heart, in his longing, as he so often sublimely 
 expresses it in his religious poems; yet more vivid He is 
 recognized by him in history, especially in that of Israel. 
 Here God appears, personally causing effects, shows Himself 
 as the power which rules everywhere and leads to definite 
 ends. In general the influence of God upon individual men 
 appears with him in the foreground, for full life is only in the 
 individual and personal. The revelation of God, he says, was 
 first addressed to the first man, upon him the full, immediate 
 influence of God was poured out, the fullness of the divine 
 spirit entered into him. From him the inspired divine 
 disposition goes over into his descendants by corporeal 
 propagation. In some, that divine afflatus is veiled, some- 
 times by their own fault, sometimes by a chain of unfavorable 
 circumstances, is dimmed and condensed in the descent more 
 and more into gloomy materialism. But in others it appears 
 through favorable conditions or through self-ennobling efforts 
 with unlimited enlargement and becomes true divine illumi- 
 nation. Thus the divine spirit entered into the patriarchs, 
 from them into Israel, especially into the prophets, and thus 
 it is inherited on and on in Israel, even in its dispersed indi- 
 viduals. It is an inheritance, interwoven in body and soul, 
 and indestructible. 
 
 As through the persons, so the divine spirit runs through 
 the ordinances, even if they are not comprehended in their 
 deeper meaning, yet carrying ennobling force and cementing 
 the ties to divinity. While the ancient teachers say of many 
 ordinances that they are to be observed as commandments 
 issued by God and to be practiced in pure obedience, without 
 entering into reasons for them, Juda's deeper sentiment was 
 not satisfied with that, neither did he want to look for forced 
 
JuDA Ha-Levi 325 
 
 reasons which would deprive them more of consecrative 
 character than add to their illumination. No — ^and here it is 
 especially where the influence of the church becomes visible 
 — no, he says, those ordinances are imbued with the divine 
 spirit, they eff"ect ennoblement and spirituality of themselves, 
 the consecration placed in them by God pours out upon those 
 who practice them. He gets into a tight squeeze with a few 
 ordinances; with all his visionary, enthusiastic tinge and yet 
 plain, unsophisticated sense he finds it difficult to attribute 
 to them consecrating force. He does not mistake that many 
 a Talmudical ordinance looks too much like a cunning evasion 
 or an artificial shift. It is plain how he is troubled by that 
 view because he returns to it several times, yet he finally 
 shakes off his hesitation. If it is prescribed in the bible, 
 he says for instance, that a greater distance should not be 
 traveled on the Sabbath nor a burden carried outside of a 
 narrow limit, how can the long road he squeezed together and 
 outside territory be turned into one's own by an artificial 
 arrangement, eruh, in contradiction to the actual conditions, 
 fancifully changing and getting around the prohibition? 
 But the force of the system gets over such scruples also. 
 Such arrangements, too, carry a consecration which we can- 
 not recognize but is still hidden within them. If you want 
 to inquire, he adds, and seek after reasons only according to 
 your intelligence, then you shake all firm foundations; you 
 must surrender yourself to the influence of the outpouring 
 consecration and subject your reason to it. 
 
 What he asserts of the several practices holds good also of 
 the places. The ancient teachers have especially accentuated 
 the peculiar sanctity of Palestine. There was the Temple ; there 
 was the dwelling place of the independent realm; there only, 
 the ordinances could be practiced in proper completeness. 
 Yet there is but a very weak indication that perhaps Palestine 
 or Jerusalem pours out sanctity or spreads greater consecra- 
 tion even at a time when the Temple was destroyed, the realm 
 dissolved, and Israel no longer gathered there. The Baby- 
 lonians asserted the contrary with all decision: It is sinful 
 to emigrate from Babylonia to Palestine. With Juda we first 
 
326 Judaism and Its History 
 
 meet the idea of the sanctity of Palestine even in its devasta- 
 tion. According to him, the grace of God has located there 
 for all times, there the junction of the divine and the corporeal 
 is lastingly established, there was the place of full revelation, 
 those localities have received the stream of sanctity, it never 
 dries up from them, they bear the indelible mark of holiness. 
 Therefore, for him the grace of God was still pouring forth 
 upon the ruins of Jerusalem, the gates of heaven still com- 
 municated with the broken gates of the holy land, from there 
 a transfigured and transfiguring light was still going out 
 over all. 
 
 Those views Juda Ha-Levi presented in a religious- 
 philosophical work of which the introduction is characteristic 
 enough. Beginning with the realm of the Chazars, the rulers 
 of which professed Judaism, he lets that king appear before 
 us, who first accepted Judaism. A devout, thinking man, as 
 reverential toward God as benevolent toward his subjects, 
 he lived in natural religion. In dreams there appears to him 
 several times, an angel who speaks to him: "Thy disposi- 
 tion is pleasing to God, but not thy actions." Troubled by 
 such exhortations, he sends for the priests and teachers of the 
 different religions. Since Islam and Christianity point to 
 Judaism as the mother religion, he turns to Judaism, and 
 thus Juda develops in the dialogue between the king and the 
 Jewish teacher, his own views, the basic thought of which 
 we have given, with instructive fullness of thought and 
 powerful fervor of sentiment. At the close, when the Jewish 
 master thought to have accomplished his task, he announces 
 his resolution to go to the holy land. "How," says the king, 
 "what do you want there now? It is laid waste, the Temple 
 stands no more, dangers of various kinds surround you, what 
 good will staying there afford you? Can you not lead a 
 devout life anywhere?** "Well,** replies the teacher, "if we 
 are prevented from going there, if our settling there is impos- 
 sible, God will accept my sentiments and my actions in any 
 other country; but if there is any possibility, heart and duty 
 call me there. If the land is but a place of ruins, then I 
 must journey over the rubbish; if I can not perform my 
 
JuDA Ha-Levi 327 
 
 devotions in the Temple, the ruins and remaining fragments 
 are so consecrated that the heart finds noble nourishment and 
 greater uplift in them." And the king lets him go. 
 
 The teacher is Juda Ha-Levi himself. He has not talked 
 the matter over with a king of the Chazars, but weighed it 
 seriously in his mind, and it pressed him on and on more 
 irresistibly. His countrymen meet him with decided oppo- 
 sition, for the tendency of the Arabian Jews of that time was 
 nothing like that of Juda. He is not understood, he is 
 reminded with sober admonitions, he is almost a subject of 
 mockery. But he can not do otherwise, his poetic longing 
 must find satisfaction in the journey. 
 
 For Juda Ha-Levi was a poet, a poet of the noblest kind, 
 of the most fervid depth of heart, of the most brilliant pre- 
 sentation. He appears perfectly ready in early youth, and 
 when he is a mere boy, sends a poem to a famous man and 
 poet; the latter designates the effusion with the following 
 words: 
 
 "A writing like the morning's glow, 
 A song — a wreath of spirit's bloom, 
 Of sound so strong, tender and soft, 
 Of noble sense, deep and aloft. 
 Yet still a lad, my dear young son, 
 How comes it that you are so wise? 
 Such diving in the depths of knowledge, 
 Such rising to the heights of view?" 
 
 His poetic force is revealed in all his pieces as it pours 
 out over the most various subjects, especially wherever his 
 tender elegiac sentiment can come forward — in religious 
 hymn and in longing for Palestine. A few samples may be 
 enough as proof. 
 
 "God, I've plainly heard Thy call, 
 
 Thee I'll faithful serve in all, 
 Shall not question, shall not scan ' 
 
 Nor be so bold to grasp Thy plan. 
 Thou art my refuge, rock and shield, 
 
 Thou art the light that goes through all. 
 Each soul to Thee in praise does yield. 
 
 My own heart, too, breaks forth in song. 
 
328 Judaism and Its History 
 
 "The heavens in fear and trembling 
 
 Proclaim Thy honor and glory. 
 Thy messengers, angels assembling, 
 
 Bear witness to the old story. 
 How without tiring or slumber 
 
 Thou sustainest beings without number: 
 Angels on the ether's flow. 
 
 Creatures of the earth below. 
 
 "Who the hidden God can find? 
 
 Yet in His all-gracious mind 
 He to all His sons descends. 
 
 Shows Himself in holiness. 
 And the prophets do behold 
 
 Him, not as figure, not a face, 
 Yet as ruler, high, sublime. 
 
 Great in wisdom, full of grace. 
 
 "His working! Who can fully trace? 
 
 But, O man, do not delay 
 To render homage unto Him whose place 
 
 Is all the suns and worlds and space. 
 Unto Him give all the honor! 
 
 Without change or pretense 
 Reverence what He may dispense 
 
 And give thanks to the donor. 
 
 "Know thyself! and wonder 
 
 What you are and who's your founder. 
 Upon God's handiwork ponder, 
 
 It announces to you His grandeur. 
 Inquiring too much is but sinning. 
 
 Entertain no bold pretenses, 
 Impenetrable has been from beginning 
 
 What is hidden from our senses." 
 
 Juda was a physician of great practice and highly honored. 
 He had an only daughter who bore two grandsons, Juda and 
 Asarel. He was fond of and bound up in his house, his home 
 and his family; and yet he tears himself away, leaves his 
 hpme; he must go to Palestine, to Zion, which shines to him 
 from afar and which he glorifies in song: 
 
 " For my God's dwelling I am forced to depart. 
 Where the anointed throned, there is my heart. 
 No longer I find joy, my loved ones to kiss. 
 My longing prevents me the garden to miss 
 
JuDA Ha-Levi 329 
 
 Which I planted and worked as a pleasant pursuit. 
 
 Oh how I cared for its growth and its fruit. 
 
 Of Asarel and Juda I dare not even think, 
 
 Though they be of my family the most beautiful link, 
 
 Nor of Isaac whom like a son I did hold, 
 
 And at my sun he did to manhood unfold. 
 
 The place I forget where in prayer I stood. 
 
 Where in searching for God my soul found its food, 
 
 The joy of the sabbath that filled the whole house 
 
 The festival's rest which freshened us all; 
 
 All those I give up of my own free will 
 
 And trust to the sea for a voyage until 
 
 My eye will behold where God's glory was shown 
 
 And, with satisfied look, may claim it its own. 
 
 There I shall sit, cooled by that heavenly air, 
 
 And daily bathe in Jordan's flood so fair; 
 
 There shall I praise and sing and cheer. 
 
 Hasten, ye months, to bring that glorious time near." 
 
 He tears himself away. He goes by the way of Egypt. 
 There too, friends besiege him with doubts: *'You want to 
 go to Palestine? Alas, the soil there is waste. Remain with 
 us. In Egypt too, there was a revelation of God ; it was the 
 first place where the wonderful appearance of God brought 
 help and redemption to Israel." But he cannot. They try 
 to keep him with bonds of love, but he breaks away: 
 
 "How? May body's wants then set at naught 
 The heart's imperative word: You ought? 
 What is still left to me in life, 
 For what can I yet plan and strive. 
 Than to behold thee, noble soil, 
 Sacred by high-bred priests* and prophets' toil? 
 In pain I broke the family ties 
 And miss my Spanish ground and skies, 
 And cross the seas, traverse the plain. 
 Repel the friends who would retain. 
 Make company with savage throng, 
 Their moan and howl to me is song. 
 No lure to me is Egypt's sight, 
 Canaan attracts me with irresistible might. 
 
 "For that I'm blamed by their cold reason 
 Which simply thinks of present season. 
 I suffer still and dumb; I'll overcome; and — 
 What use to speak? Thou wouldst not understand. 
 
330 Judaism and Its History 
 
 To them appears the only thing of worth 
 Serving the great ones of this earth. 
 A bird in the hand of young boys 
 I was, with which they had fun and joys. 
 No day appeared to me fair, 
 Meat and drink fed but my care. 
 Exhausted, pressed down to the sod, 
 Serving but men, removed from God, 
 My heart burns like the desert sand — 
 I travel forth to holy land. 
 
 "There in the land of revelation, 
 I look for pardon and acceptation; 
 There my eyes behold Mount Sinai, 
 Abarim's hill with Moses' blessing. 
 There needed rest for body I shall find, 
 There is peace for weary spirit and mind. 
 There is the blessed promised land 
 Where seers received their high instruction. 
 There at the graves of all my saints, 
 There I shall weep, pour out my plaints. 
 Where they lived and worked and now rest, 
 There I shall be with the blessed. 
 Therefore hasten, sail fast, O my ship. 
 To where the law came from God's lip. 
 
 "Yet I fear for my youthful transgression 
 Which on Time's page has left its impression. 
 Mature age too, escaping so fast. 
 Has it all without errors passed? 
 I do not claim freedom from fault, 
 Not always I warded off sin's assault. 
 And yet, my heart, what will you offer 
 While my soul such pain does suffer? 
 If the heart carries a heavy load. 
 It still appeals to the pity of God 
 And gains strength by confession 
 And quiet by Mercy's intercession. 
 Recompense, reward or punish; I trust 
 Thy judgments are always just." 
 
 And he moves on. How long he remained there, whether 
 his soul found the deep refreshment and satisfaction, whether 
 it was sobered by the ruins, we know not. No message 
 reaches us, yet legend knows how to decorate the end of Juda 
 with proper dignity. It has invented a trait that is drawn 
 
^- 
 
 JudaHa-Levi 331 
 
 from a deep understanding of his character. The tale runs, 
 that when he entered Jerusalem, an Arab came galloping 
 along and rode him down, and Juda's last breath was his 
 Zion*s song. His longing was satisfied, his task was done; 
 arrived at the goal, the legend has him finding life's end, too. 
 With poetic spirit, Juda anticipates the tendency of a later 
 time; his contemporaries did not entertain it. Culture in 
 Spain progresses further, problems and conflicts rise with 
 greater distinctness and press for solution. Full of deep, 
 mental seriousness, men attempt the task in a manner which 
 towers high above the fine labors of the Spanish time thus far. 
 
X. 
 
 Aben Esra and Maimonides. 
 
 Firmly and deeply rooted culture is not readily shaken 
 even when it has to wrestle with great difficulties and is met 
 by obstructions not known thus far. As if driven by an 
 interior mental necessity of nature, it keeps working toward 
 its height even under unfavorable circumstances. Only then 
 when its task is accomplished and it has reached its goal, it 
 may decline in weakness and quickly succumb to the storms 
 which break over it. In Spain, the sad events which were to 
 burst in over that land and especially over its Jewish popula- 
 tion, were already casting their gloomy shadows before ; the sky 
 was already covered with dense clouds and yet the sheaves 
 of the mind were ripening apace. The incursions of the 
 Berbers from North Africa were increasing in threatening 
 rapidity. Those tribes, rude and uncivilized, filled with wild 
 fanaticism, founded a few disconnected kingdoms; and the 
 sciences found no patrons in them. About the middle of the 
 twelfth century, the Almohades arose, those fanatical bands 
 who first satisfied their blind zeal in North Africa, in order 
 to carry on similarly in Spain. They acted as if driven by 
 the instinct of declining Islam, and to ward off the weakening 
 which culture caused to it, they proceed with fire and sword 
 against science, and in addition, persecute the other religions 
 with rough violence. Christians and Jews were to be toler- 
 ated only when they ceased to be Christians and Jews by 
 conversion to Islam. Both confessions could be adhered to 
 only in secret. The more serious minds, the men of higher 
 culture gradually sought to leave the country in order to live 
 publicly elsewhere according to their convictions. Islam does 
 not carry on the work of such persecution persistently; it does 
 not inquisitorially invade houses and hearts and the effect does 
 not slink destructive and enervating into the marrow of the 
 
Aben Esra 333 
 
 mind, but anyway, that persecution is like a mildew that falls 
 upon the growing crops. 
 
 At the end of the eleventh century those circumstances 
 had not yet reached their full severity and the mental move- 
 ment was not disturbed in the regularity of its progressive 
 development. Even the influence of the Romanic-Christian 
 element which grew stronger and spread more and more with 
 the disruption of the Spanish-Arabian power, was in general 
 little to be noticed, although individual soft hearts, like Juda 
 Ha-Levi, were not entirely proof against its impressions. 
 Castile was Christian, and yet Jewish culture within it was 
 Arabian through and through. The Jewish inhabitants of 
 that part of the country were always in closest connection 
 with the Spanish-Arabian Jews, and were drawn by their 
 mind and sentiment toward the place where they found 
 higher mental development. A number of highly cultured 
 men meet us about that time, men who excelled in the most 
 various ways, yet without adding any new element or elabor- 
 ating any old one with greater distinctness or clearness. 
 
 Only two men tower above the others in such manner and 
 deserve our careful consideration. A younger contemporary 
 and fellow-Castilian of Juda Ha-Levi, Abraham Ben Meir 
 Aben Esra, born at Toledo in 1093, died in Rome in 1167. A 
 man of extraordinary versatility, an acutely penetrating mind 
 and a pliable cleverness. He possessed the Arabian culture 
 and the Jewish learning of that time in all directions to per- 
 fection, and yet the place of his birth seems to have exercised 
 a certain disadvantageous influence upon him because, as I 
 think, although familiar with the Arabic language and 
 perfectly at home in the Arabian literature, he had not 
 become so fully master of the Arabic as to become an author 
 in it. He lived among the Romanics, his mother tongue 
 accordingly was not the Arabic, and the supposition lies close 
 that he learned it but was not able to handle it for literary 
 work. Else it would be surprising in the highest degree that 
 we have no work of Aben Esra in Arabic written during the 
 period when he lived in Spain; that is, while in his youth and 
 vigorous manhood — the smaller ones said to be of that time 
 
334 Judaism and Its History 
 
 are dubious — and that no work of his has appeared in Arabic. 
 That circumstance weighed down the entire Middle Ages and 
 in the same manner heavily handicapped the Jewish scholars 
 of that time, namely, that they had no speech in which they 
 conversed and thought and wrote, but had to translate their 
 thoughts into a dead language, had to cast their feelings into 
 standing forms, which detracts liveliness from the course of 
 thinking, and freshness from the presentation. Only about 
 1140, when Aben Esra as a matured man had attained the 
 age of forty-seven years, the first larger work of his appeared 
 and, from thence, work rapidly succeeds work. Nearly 
 everyone gives, in addition to the date, the place of composi- 
 tion; they are written outside of Spain. As it seems, he went 
 by way of North Africa and Egypt into the Christian countries 
 where we see him in Rome, Lucca, and Mantua; then into the 
 Provence where he stays at Narbonne, Beziers, and Rhodez; 
 then into Northern France where the scholars receive him 
 with reverence as everywhere. At all those places as well as 
 at those of his later residence, he elaborates works for patrons 
 and friends, of which he rewrites a few repeatedly. From 
 there he goes to England and does some literary work there 
 during several years. Then he makes the return trip, prob- 
 ably along the same route, until he passes away from earth 
 at Rome in his seventy-sixth year. 
 
 His life must be called a disrupted one. A man with the 
 complete Spanish culture, living in the Arabian atmosphere, 
 breathing its free mental air in full drafts — he is driven about 
 in countries the tendencies of which he did not share, whose 
 language was strange to him, communicating with men who 
 occupied other points of view, everywhere at home, yet 
 nowhere enjoying a home. He himself expresses his pain in 
 many places about that restlessness: 
 
 "Aged, in foreign land I wander without rest 
 Like the birds that anxiously coo for the nest." 
 
 He longed for his native country and yet dared not enter 
 it. The disturbances which had broken out there, the fury 
 of the oppressors as he says, had driven him forth, and so he 
 
Aben Esra 335 
 
 was wandering about and found nowhere a lasting home. 
 He was honored everywhere, the scholars know how to 
 estimate his importance ; and yet he had to experience insults 
 and carry on fights with the illiberality and narrowminded- 
 ness among the Jews in the Christian countries. He himself 
 occasionally gives us an account of such happenings. Some- 
 where in Italy, he met with a Jewish scholar from the Byzan- 
 tine Empire, who with the narrowmindedness of his home and 
 imbued with the Talmudical spirit, looked down with con- 
 tempt upon every scientific endeavor. That man corre- 
 sponded more to the mental attitude of Italy than Aben Esra, 
 and this one had to hear how the other abused all the im- 
 portant Spanish scholars, and yet was treated with all respect. 
 He pours out his pain at that to a friend in a poem: 
 
 "My youthful hopes are under the ground, 
 My mouth and tongue in chains are bound 
 My mind is sore with serious wound, 
 And restless roving strain. 
 
 "O friend, here I am rated vile, 
 Around me are madness, folly and guile, 
 My mind is now in double exile 
 By scorn, with grief and pain. 
 
 "How lucky if I had but died. 
 While fortune yet with me did abide 
 Before this rabble began to deride 
 
 And treat me with grievous disdain. 
 
 "In Edom* is neither honor nor praise 
 For sages from Spain or one of their ways, 
 Where ignorance rules all of the days, 
 Contempt is their only gain. 
 
 "Yet if there comes in a cricket from Greece, 
 Of all dignity he is given a lease, 
 And in his mind he does increase 
 To a giant on uppermost plane. 
 
 " See the winks and the nods of the hypocrite. 
 What bows he makes, how he tries to fit, 
 How he presses their hands and does never omit 
 To press hands for money to gain. 
 
 * f^dpm means (he Christian countries, 
 
336 Judaism and Its History 
 
 "And then he swells up, abuses the blessed 
 The great spirits now gone to their rest, 
 While the empty heads who feather his nest 
 With laughter are bursting in twain. 
 
 "O masters and men! ye that spread the light. 
 Our teachers and poets, heroes in the fight 
 'Gainst folly and wrong! Does this requite 
 The work and stress of your brain? 
 
 "And now he makes his voice resound 
 So loud, it must be heard all around; 
 He pretends the Talmud to expound, 
 And yet he is weak in that domain. 
 
 "Ask him who does so glibly converse. 
 Ask out of the bible but for one verse. 
 Known to a child from the mouth of his nurse, 
 'I do not know' is his refrain. 
 
 "To make of such a fool a god. 
 To tremble at his wink and nod ! 
 Yet fill they him with meats and wash 
 Them down with best champagne. 
 
 "So feed him up lest he grow less. 
 Get him purple and linen for his dress, 
 Maids for his service also press. 
 
 Perhaps absolution may be your gain. 
 
 "Well, keep on with serving his weight, 
 Procession and pray at his gate! 
 We shall stay true to the word of God 
 And true in the spirit's domain." 
 
 Deep pain goes through Aben Esra during his restless 
 wandering, and the pain is reflected in all his works. Pessim- 
 ism and melancholy shine through everywhere. Just as he 
 is at home in every land but without a home in it, so he is 
 at home in every mental field and yet finds no rest for his 
 soul in any. Aben Esra is grammarian, elucidator of Script- 
 ure, philosopher, astrologer, mathematician, poet, important 
 in every branch, and yet he is wanting in the union which 
 ties the whole together; he lacks the penetrating idea which 
 brings peace into all. An unceasing digression dominates 
 him, his mind hurries disquieted from one subject to another; 
 we notice that he never finds full satisfaction in what he works 
 
Aben Esra 337 
 
 and cultivates. I said that Aben Esra is an astrologer. That 
 is a disease of an unsatisfactory time and dissatisfied minds. 
 Times and men who feel uneasy in the present would like to 
 lift the veil of futurity and look into the mysterious growth 
 in order to get a glimpse of the fulfillment in the future of 
 hopes the realization of which they despair of for the present, 
 and thus to gain peace by that view. They would like to 
 solve the riddle of the reason of the contradiction between 
 their fate and the ruling of justice. They try to recognize in 
 the stars a solution of the riddle of futurity and also the 
 power which guides terrestrial conditions and to which all 
 must submit without resistance. 
 
 Aben Esra is the first humorous Jewish author. Humor 
 as literary manner is a beauty-patch of modern literature. 
 The ancients did not know it, and it really only has its justi- 
 fication if it enters as a merry joke, as a graceful wrap for a 
 harmless thought; or vice versa, if it arises from deep, bitter 
 earnest, tacking itself to the mean, revealing it in its complete 
 ridiculousness, pouring sharp lye over it, if it works decom- 
 posing in its vitals and tears it with a certain pleasure. But 
 when it enters as a surprise into serious investigation, when 
 it is wound as artistic drapery about the thought without 
 clinging to it naturally, when it dashes in like a flash as 
 something extraneous, then it is uncalled for and unjustifiable. 
 It always seems to me of an author to whom humor has 
 become his manner, as if he was not fully alive to the subject 
 he treats of; a foreign subjective moment leaps into the center 
 and tears him out of the objective consideration of the 
 matter before him. His presentation is not the faithful 
 picture of the thought produced by the object, but he cal- 
 culates it for the future reader from whom he wants to gain 
 a smile. He looks to him, enjoys his surprise, and listens 
 for the admiration which the striking turn produces. Aben 
 Esra was the first humorous Jewish author, and he may 
 perhaps owe his greater favor to his spicy manner of pre- 
 sentation at a time when taste was declining. Yet we must 
 acknowledge that with Aben Esra, humor is not artificially 
 joined to the thought. It rather pours out from within and 
 
338 Judaism and Its History 
 
 is the expression of his mental restlessness, the dissatisfied 
 digression from his subject; he must break violently through 
 the fetters that confine him, he must roll away the pressure 
 that hinders the full free expression of his opinion, sometimes 
 by fine irony, sometimes by a merry turn. 
 
 For Aben Esra is a man of depth and acuteness of mind, 
 and even though he illuminates all fields through which he 
 travels, with bright rays, yet he makes you guess much more 
 than he reveals. He is especially great in explaining Script- 
 ure. There he could treat the most various branches in 
 motley changes, join thoughts in sharp points without sys- 
 tematic arrangement, and use and disseminate, stimulated by 
 the variety of the themes, a mass of scattered ideas. In that 
 branch, Aben Esra feels himself particularly at home; here 
 he works with the greatest pleasure and with the greatest 
 success. Here too, he acts with a boldness such as had 
 hardly been heard before him and has for a long time been 
 totally silent since, but also again with that mocking caution 
 which veils the bold expression or assumes the air of taking 
 it back. Aben Esra is the Jewish exegetist who mostly uses 
 biblical criticism and who gathers for us the accounts of the 
 more ancient teachers who worked in like manner at the 
 Scriptures. No difficulty escapes his eye, and he has the 
 courage to confess the difficulty and call attention to it. For 
 instance, if he finds that places the names of which owe their 
 origin to later events are mentioned with those names in the 
 older writings, in the Pentateuch, he says, " Here is a mystery, 
 or," he adds at once, "this is here so designated by prophetic 
 foreknowledge." As in this case, so in other matters that 
 belong to a later time and yet are in earlier accounts, he 
 points to a mystery which he reveals while he covers it. In 
 one place he puts a number of such passages together, of 
 which he asserts that they belong to the same category, but 
 that a wise man keeps quiet about them. Of course, the 
 mystery, which consists in the fact that such passages can 
 only have been written at later times, was not hidden from 
 intelligent teachers, and the judgment about that bold 
 indication was very different according to the position of the 
 
Aben Esra 339 
 
 judge. For instance, Nachmanides says about it, "Rabbi 
 Abraham says there is a mystery; well, I shall be the traitor 
 and make the mystery known." And then he abuses Aben 
 Esra in severe, unseemly terms. On the other hand, a later 
 writer of the middle of the fourteenth century, a great admirer 
 of Aben Esra and yet fully convinced of his orthodoxy which 
 he wanted to save against all attacks, says in naive sincerity, 
 ** Aben Esra says there is a mystery here;" i. e., these passages 
 cannot have been written by Moses, they must have been 
 added by later prophets. Does that matter? Whether 
 written by Moses or by later prophets, they remain prophetic 
 words. 
 
 Aben Esra is an expounder who enters deeply into the 
 natural and plain sense of the text and therefore perceives 
 that in accordance with such proceeding he is often obliged 
 to differ f^om the interpretation which the Talmudists and 
 the Rabbinists following in their footsteps give to them in 
 order to find a foundation for regulations. He gives the 
 natural exposition full, circumstantial, and clear, but adds: 
 **We should explain thus, if it were not for tradition, but 
 tradition is valid, and the insight of our teachers was deeper 
 and clearer than ours; we have to stand by it." But, is it 
 not enough if he cast the flashes of lightning into the dark 
 night of the Italian, French and English sky of that time? 
 Was he not forced to cautiously cover the points which, if 
 inclined or intended to pierce more deeply into those regions, 
 would certainly have been turned against him? It might also 
 be explained psychologically, if his clear view were sometimes 
 dimmed within that stiffened environment where thought 
 found no receptive soil and proper words no echo, that he 
 thus sometimes lost confidence in himself. With all such 
 necessary imperfections, Aben Esra is one of the clearest 
 minds, one of the most talented thinkers of the rich Spanish 
 development. The sparks which he emits are not simply 
 momentary crackling sparks of wit, but thought sparks that 
 give steady light for all times. He possesses inextinguishable 
 force, so that the most important minds gladly accepted his 
 support and were instructed by him. 
 
340 Judaism and Its History 
 
 That which Aben Esra lacked, namely, complete tendency 
 to reconciliation with his own mind and therefore a systematic 
 rounding out, a younger contemporary possessed, and through 
 that he became the maker of an epoch. Moses Ben Maimon, 
 with the Arabian name Abu-Amran Musa Ben Abdallah, and 
 generally known as Maimonides, was born at Cordova on 
 March 30, 1135. His father Maimon, was a pupil of the 
 highly esteemed Joseph Ben Migash, pupil and successor of 
 the famous Isaac Alfasi at Lucena. Maimon was Dayan 
 (judge) in his native city of Cordova, then one of the most 
 flourishing cities of Spain. 
 
 He was an able Talmudist and at the same time — which 
 was a matter of course with the men of his kind in Arabian 
 Spain — a thoroughly educated man in science. His son Moses 
 received his education from him and was initiated from his 
 early youth into the various branches of science. He soon 
 became as well versed in the Talmud as at home in the other 
 scientific training. As Saadias, the pioneer of the Jewish- 
 Arabian tendency, tried to acquire the entire field of knowl- 
 edge, just as he, when Gaon, as representative of the prevail- 
 ing Talmudical-Judaism and at the same time as philosopher, 
 linguist, and expounder of Scripture, took the initiative for 
 the new foundation of a united scientific and Jewish-religious 
 development of thought, so we find in Maimonides the full 
 possession and domination of the two separate mental fields. 
 While among Spanish scholars in general, one tendency 
 prevails, some being able Talmudists with only moderate 
 general acquirements, and others, men of science with but 
 general Talmudic knowledge, we find both equally united in 
 Maimonides. He dominates the various branches, which 
 formed the learning and the mental ornament of the Jewry 
 of the times, with equal excellence. As a practising phy- 
 sician his studies, theoretically as well as practically, must 
 have produced a much wider expansion of his mental sweep. 
 
 The life of Maimonides falls just into that period which 
 threatened the most danger to Jewish-Arabianism in Spain. 
 When he was yet a boy, the Almohades invaded Spain with 
 the rallying cry, "Confess Islam or die!" Maimon and his 
 
Maimonides 341 
 
 family for a short time conformed with the enforced conver- 
 sion, but soon made their escape into Northern Africa. There 
 too, in Fez, the Almohades were masters, and the stay there 
 could only serve as a point of passage until they might get, 
 by way of the sea and Palestine, to Egypt where they could 
 again live as Jews, under a high-minded ruler, Saladin. 
 But even during the time of repression as well as later, when 
 Moses again breathed in liberty, the activity of his mind was 
 not interrupted. Already in Spain, he began to elaborate 
 his first larger work, the commentary to the Mishnah, in 
 which he revealed the intention which he pursued through 
 his whole life, and the impulse which forced him from writing 
 to writing. He first wanted to master the immense mass of 
 discussions as they are put down in the Talmud and spread 
 more and more so that a whole life is hardly long enough to 
 go through it — that mass he wanted to master, form into a 
 well-ordered digest, and clearly sum up the result in order 
 to save future generations the labor of making their way 
 through the dialectic thickets. His commentary to the 
 Mishnah is short, intelligible, and clear. He attempts to 
 present the results of the entire Talmudic-practical life, and 
 thus to offer to the disciples of that science an abstract which, 
 he believed, would be sufficient for them. 
 
 But he soon found that he had not yet exhaustively 
 elaborated the whole material, and he undertook that grand, 
 Titanic work, the code, which bears the name Mishne Tora, 
 repetition of the law, or Yad Chasakah (the strong hand) ; the 
 latter, because it is divided into fourteen books, which number 
 corresponds to the numerical value in Hebrew to Yad, hand. 
 In that codex he knows how to gather the different subjects 
 and the immense material in intelligible, clear order, so that 
 a general view over the whole is gained, and with the exclusion 
 of the discussions, everything is taken up and put into 
 proper connection. He says in the preface frankly and 
 sincerely, for which he was afterwards blamed by many: " I 
 have here composed a work so that if you have read the bible 
 and made yourself familiar with this work, you can do with- 
 out the Talmud, for you will have complete knowledge of the 
 
342 Judaism and Its History 
 
 doctrines of Judaism as it has grown up Talmudically." 
 That such an undertaking — because it presents the whole 
 like a finished structure in which stone is fitted upon stone as 
 an inseparable totality which, if a part is taken out, falls to 
 pieces — that such an undertaking injures or prevents the 
 historic conception, just because it makes everything appear 
 as if moulded at one casting without giving a chance to suppose 
 how the times have long labored at it and have only gradually 
 put together very various matters ; that it also cuts off the pos- 
 sibility of giving entry to the breath of coming times for 
 bringing new life into the torpidity by solving, completing, 
 or reforming action: such disadvantages Maimonides could 
 not consider. For the idea of looking at things in their 
 historic development was wanting in him as in the entire 
 Middle Ages. To them, whatever existed, appeared as having 
 always existed and as lasting forever. 
 
 Already in both of these works, Maimonides shows that 
 — even if their contents were purely practical — theological 
 and the whole matter of precept and dogma of Judaism as it 
 was contained in the Talmud, was to be clearly put together 
 — he yet had a higher motive in the background. For wher- 
 ever a chance offers, he strays over into religio-philosophical 
 subjects, attempts to illustrate, takes pains to show the deeper 
 bases of Judaism and to present the thoughts which give it 
 life and support it, as the most essential thing to be achieved. 
 Thus he had used in his first work the treatise of the "Fathers" 
 to elaborate a moral code along Aristotelian principles and 
 prove their harmony with Judaism. Thus, among other 
 things at the passage which speaks about the exclusion of 
 individuals from a share in the world to come, he seizes the 
 chance to prove the bases of Judaism and designate them as 
 eternal and inviolable as he lays them down in thirteen articles 
 of faith. In the same manner he shows in his larger work, 
 not only in many separate passages how to point to the 
 deeper proof in the moral-religious idea which dwells in the 
 precepts, but he gives also, introducing in popular espression 
 a philosophy of religion as essential basis of the dogma, 
 philosophic-practical rules of life and other matter that can 
 
Maimonides 343 
 
 be joined to it. But all appears as developed out of the 
 Talmud, artificially based on passages which he brings into 
 connection and groups systematically. Yet small space only 
 could be given to those philosophical discussions, and they 
 had to come in as an occasional side issue. The work itself 
 was chiefly to serve to open Talmudical knowledge to the 
 student and at the same time, as he hoped, to conclude it. 
 But his final goal was not attained by it. 
 
 Maimonides cultivated philosophy with a noble passion, 
 metaphysics was a matter of heart to him ; in the confirmation 
 of the recognition of the pure spirituality of God and His 
 perfection he saw the true task of his life and that was not 
 completed in the works he had written thus far. As a man 
 who had already attained the zenith of life and as a physician 
 in extensive practice, he went at his chief work which, like 
 his first one, the commentary to the Mishna, he wrote in 
 Arabic — ^while for the code he had used a pleasing and easy 
 Hebrew. That work to which he gave the Arabian title 
 Dhalalath Al-Hajirin, Guide of the Perplexed — better known 
 by the name in the Hebrew translation — Moreh Nebuchim — 
 has the exclusive aim to reveal the deeper principles of 
 Judaism, to prove its complete harmony with philosophy, to 
 adjust the opposing difficulties and to consummate its recon- 
 ciliation with science. Bible and Aristotle are for him two 
 infallible sources. He draws from them, they are the two 
 basic books of wisdom which teach the same thing in differ- 
 ent expression. The pure spirituality of God, the perfection 
 of His being which may not be limited by anything even in 
 thought, is to him the deepest principle of Judaism; even those 
 attributes which are spoken of God as good and glorifying 
 ones appear to him a limitation. An attribute does not per- 
 fectly inhere to the being, it only approaches it in a certain 
 sense. But nothing is added to God, all is indivisibly united 
 in Him, while an attribute of qualities presupposes a certain 
 division and asserts a composite unity, not one perfect within 
 Himself as God must be thought. Accordingly, because 
 nothing individual can be predicated of God, in order not to 
 limit the conception thereby, we may only speak of negative 
 
344 Judaism and Its History 
 
 qualities: that no fault is in Him, that no defect can be thought 
 of Him, so that all limit is removed and only the complete 
 separation of all concrete and the most high abstract may be 
 considered as the only idea approaching Him. 
 
 But if there occur so many corporeal expressions about 
 God in the bible, they are corporeally sounding designations 
 for spiritual things. Maimonides is not satisfied to say by 
 that, that they are paraphrases, pictures, naive ways of 
 expression as they have to be used for the understanding at 
 a low plane of culture. And when he supposes that, he is 
 not satisfied with it, because then the word of the bible 
 would not be significant enough, he rather asserts that there 
 is in those corporeal expressions also a spiritual meaning. 
 The words, he says, express different conceptions related to 
 each other, of which one more accentuates the corporeal and 
 the other the spiritual moment. For instance, when we read, 
 "God stands," it means he is constant, unchangeable; if the 
 bible says, "He descends," it means His effect upon worldly 
 matters; if the throne of God is spoken of, that means the 
 higher sphere which is more spiritual because it receives the 
 nearest effects from God; and so on. He also thinks, in 
 general, that the ancients purposely express themselves in a 
 manner which has an external sense suitably for those of an 
 immature understanding, while the intelligent comprehend 
 the deeper signification of it; that the men of the bible and the 
 Talmud had, like the ancient philosophers, sometimes pur- 
 posely chosen expressions and forms of presentation which 
 say also something for the ordinary human, without that he 
 recognizes the complete truth, but which disclose the deeper 
 wisdom for the thinker. Such declarations, he says, are 
 golden apples in perforated silver shells. To him that stands 
 afar, like to a near-sighted person, only the silver shells are 
 visible, the more valuable contents within are hidden from 
 him; he that approaches nearer, like one who has sharp eye- 
 sight, recognizes the golden apples through the silver shells. 
 Therefore, the intelligent must look deeper into such cor- 
 poreally sounding expressions of the ancients, to apprehend 
 the truth hidden deeper in them. 
 
Maimonides ' 345 
 
 Of course God in His spirituality can not be perceived by 
 the senses; therefore revelation can not be an appearance 
 which is seen with the eyes or heard with the ears. If former 
 philosophizing theologians, avoiding such a conception, 
 express themselves in effect that God causes an appearance 
 of light to become visible and creates a voice that may be 
 heard, Maimonides does not want to contradict such a solu- 
 tion straight out, it satisfies him if everything corporeal is 
 kept away from God, but such a conception does not cor- 
 respond to his real thought. For him, revelation is exclusively 
 a purely spiritual act, it is the rising of the human spirit to 
 the Divine Spirit, which act can of course take place in very 
 few men in full measure, and is therefore the property only of 
 select individuals in very different degrees. While one can 
 rise only once in his life to that complete height as if a flash 
 of lightning illuminates the horizon only for a short time and 
 all sinks back into darkness, thus in another one the flash is 
 repeated several times. In a third one it occurs still oftener 
 and with greater clearness and completeness, and in another 
 one, as in Moses, it lasts through life. This spiritual height 
 of man is to him revelation, because through it man comes 
 into closer touch with the spirit of God. 
 
 In general, according to his conception — ^which dominates 
 the entire Arabian philosophy and is by it considered as 
 Aristotelian, while it is really a neoplatonic modification — 
 the whole universe is inspirited by degrees through the over- 
 flowing of the Divine Spirit. There are various heavenly 
 spheres which are inhabited by heavenly spirits; the stars and 
 the spheres are for him, as for all philosophers of his age, 
 living beings of a higher kind. Thus the Divine Spirit next 
 influences the highest spheres, from them it descends and 
 permeates the lowest earth sphere; the inspiration of which 
 is designated as the effective reason, we are tempted to say, 
 as the spirit of the earth which illuminates and guides all 
 terrestrial beings and things. The man who endeavors to 
 raise himself to that all-spirit of the earth, who is able by his 
 deep thinking and by his pure morality, by overcoming 
 sensuality, by liberation from limitations and prejudices, to 
 
346 Judaism and Its History 
 
 purify and spiritualize himself, enters into closer connection 
 with the spirits, he continually rises higher on the scale of the 
 spheres; the prophets attained to the highest point. The 
 concept of divine providence also signifies to him nothing else 
 than the junction of the Divine Spirit with the human spirit, 
 so, that the enlightened and higher standing one stands 
 during his whole life in closer connection with God and 
 receives stronger effusions of His omnipotence. 
 
 In such sense the reward of men is also to be apprehended. 
 The man who has arrived at a higher development of his 
 mind, who has purified his spirit, who has steeled his moral 
 force, retains such lasting gain firmly and approaches God and 
 the eternal blessed spirits. In his system there is of course 
 no room for a bodily resurrection, a reviving of the body of 
 the dead. For him the future world is a purely spiritual life, 
 and in his first work already, in the commentary of the Mishna, 
 he reveals that view by a beautiful and significant compari- 
 son. He says, he that wants to instruct men and to urge 
 them towards the good, must use different ways of proceeding 
 according to the stage in which they are, just as it has to be 
 done with children with whom advance is made gradually. 
 If it is desired to spur the young, unintelligent child to dili- 
 gence in study, sweetmeats are promised to him as reward; 
 when he grows older, such a reward produces no longer any 
 effect with him ; other things are promised which have greater 
 influence. With one of a larger growth, ambition is aroused; 
 he is told. My son, if you are diligent, you will be called a 
 master in Israel, you will occupy a high position. All those 
 matters are without him, by which he may be allured. But 
 when he has attained mature age, then he can finally be led 
 to a recognition of the importance attained by the develop- 
 ment of the spirit within him, of the value with which the 
 endeavor for the culture of his soul endows him. In similar 
 manner the representation of rewards and punishments in the 
 Scriptures is to be apprehended as means of education. The 
 true reward is and remains the eternal life of the mind and 
 spirit; as to the resurrection of the dead, we have already 
 developed it — and nothing more, And yet he puts it up ag 
 
Maimonides , 347 
 
 one of his thirteen articles of faith. For Maimonides pays 
 due regard to public opinion, "give honor to general accept- 
 ance." He does not break the thin thread which joins him 
 to the community, he does not destroy the bridge which keeps 
 him in communication with the mass. He, too, uses, as he 
 presumes it of the ancients, here and there a form of presenta- 
 tion which assumes a popular wrap but reveals his views 
 perfectly to the truly intelligent. Gradually it may have 
 happened to him as to many other thinkers who chose the 
 same proceeding that the reader can not judge with full 
 decision what is form of presentation and what is true inner 
 intention. And so it gradually becomes unclear in the mind 
 of the thinker himself, he sometimes grasps at the form and 
 designation chosen by him, in order to hold it fast as essential 
 and of deeper values. 
 
 Even about the view of Maimonides of the creation of the 
 world, we are therefore, not quite clear. He acknowledges 
 that philosophy asserts that creation proceeded out of existing 
 matter and that the Divine Spirit only shaped that matter. 
 Thus says his highly revered Aristotle; yet, he thinks, this 
 is the only point in which he must disagree with him. The 
 natural meaning of Scripture would by no means force him to 
 that, for they may be interpreted in many ways, "the gates of 
 explanation are not closed;" but on the other side, the proofs 
 of original matter are not all-convincing, and the general accep- 
 tance in Judaism of creation out of nothing is preponderating, 
 and thus he joins that general religious view, especially 
 because, if it should be set aside, the possibility of miracle 
 would disappear. If everything has not come out of God, 
 if matter has its own independence, the miraculous influenc- 
 ing of the course of things cannot be explained. He recurs 
 also upon miracle at the resurrection of the dead which he 
 will not admit to have contradicted. The passages in tha bible 
 which are referred to for that dogma, he thinks, all permit of 
 different explanation, only one passage in Daniel uses a more 
 definite expression; but the general acceptation is so unan- 
 imous that we must follow it. It is a miracle, can only take 
 place in miraculous manner, and we must accept it as such. 
 
348 Judaism and Its History 
 
 But what is his opinion of miracle itself? Here, too, we 
 meet that double presentation which retains a certain twilight. 
 Already in his earlier works, he pronounces: The ancient 
 teachers say, the world goes its regular course ; whatever arises 
 as miraculous is put into the movement of the world as con- 
 dition together with its creation, so that it must appear at 
 the given point of time; the miracles are therefore not a 
 sudden event, not a breaking through the eternal law, but 
 they are part of the law put into matter from the very begin- 
 ning. But with that, what appears as miraculous ceases to 
 be a miracle. The Israelites, he says in his second work, did 
 not believe in Moses on account of the miracles he performed, 
 for we meet miracles performed by wizards; but they believed 
 him because they themselves had seen and heard, they had a 
 revelation themselves. Thus the miraculous is substituted 
 for the miracle without denying it straightout. Its force as 
 proof is set aside, and an appeal to it is to be adjudged as 
 nothing but popular presentation. 
 
 But even in that he attempts to effect many diminutions 
 of the miracles. Individual revivals of the dead, as they are 
 related of Elijah, he explains as cures only in cases of trance, 
 or severe sickness which brought the patient near death but 
 did not produce actual death. Many other miracles he con- 
 siders dream-visions, seen in a trance, not actual events; 
 others he weakens, if he can not do away with them altogether. 
 The first men lived many centuries, then suddenly the high 
 age ceases and the duration of life corresponds to ours. Such 
 an extreme age is plainly an exception to the laws of nature. 
 With individuals of whom it is expressly mentioned in Script- 
 ure, as in the case of Adam, Seth, and others, it must certainly 
 be admitted; but the other contemporaries, "the sons and 
 daughters" begotten by those patriarchs, whose ages are not 
 plainly given, attained the ordinary age only. Later oppo- 
 nents think that a very insufficient solution; for if there be 
 one exception to the law, there might be others. 
 
 The resurrection at some future period is a miracle, he 
 pronounces several times; but let us not be too extravagant in 
 the provisions of that miracle. The dead rise, but they will 
 
Maimonides 349 
 
 then not live forever, they rise and die again, after having 
 enjoyed a long and happy life. The true goal remains the 
 eternal life, the immortality of the soul. A younger con- 
 temporary replies to that, not indelicately: 
 
 " Ton resurrection follows second death? 
 What good to me this second loss of breath? 
 Out of the grave I rather would not rise, 
 Than have death to suffer twice." 
 
 With such discussions Maimonides transgresses beyond 
 the proper scientific-philosophical field, and he does not 
 hesitate to penetrate still farther into the conceptions and the 
 arrangements of every-day life; he wants to explain also the 
 practical religious ordinances and place them in their proper 
 position. To take them simply as precepts to which we have 
 to submit without further ado as having proceeded from the 
 highest lawgiver, that would not agree with his general view. 
 They must be effluences of the highest wisdom, means which 
 guide us toward a higher conception of life; if we do not 
 comprehend them, they have no value. Accordingly, he 
 attempts to prove deeper reasons for a part of the precepts, 
 and of others he thinks that they were measures of protection 
 against former erroneous conceptions and idolatrous customs. 
 The sacrificial service, for instance, has no value for him, but 
 the Israelites were to be weaned away from the sacrifices 
 which they brought to idols, and since a complete abolition 
 could hardly have been effected, they were to consecrate 
 them to the eternal God, by which they were led away from 
 the most injurious error. With many other precepts he 
 believes to have historically found the superstitious ideas of 
 ancient time to which they should make opposition. Of 
 course, here the highly uncritical manner which in his time 
 dominated the entire consideration of history, crops out. 
 Maimonides with all his contemporaries, seriously accepted 
 the intentional and legendary forgeries which were handed 
 around of an aboriginal nation of Sabians. Biblical and pagan 
 data, thrown together promiscuously, fitted that alleged 
 aboriginal nation out wonderfully, and Maimonides uses them 
 
350 Judaism and Its History 
 
 to explain by them the precepts of Scripture and partly those 
 of the Talmud, and thus prove their justification. Evidently 
 this part of the proof of the pract'cal-Jewish precepts is the 
 weakest of his work and system. Such proof may at the most 
 induce the admission that they may be considered admissible 
 and not contradictory to reason, without furnishing any evi- 
 dence for recognizing in them an essential religious motive or 
 establishing their necessity and inviolability or possessing 
 intrinsic force of moral and spiritual elevation. With all 
 that, it must be admitted that the existing precepts of practice 
 are considered as forever obligatory by Maimonides himself, 
 in spite of his poor proof. 
 
 For Maimonides occupies the point of view of the Middle 
 Ages, out of which no man of that time could escape. The 
 Middle Ages gave to the individual no complete justification, 
 no independent freedom; the individual was a member of a 
 corporation, not only of the state and the nation, but rather 
 of the narrow circle within which he moved. That circle has 
 its fixed manners and usages, its rights and liberties, its 
 privileges, its charter, but also its perfectly defined formation 
 within which he has to keep himself. The guild, like the 
 feudal system, the city, like every close corporation, in 
 which the population of the Middle Ages were divided, — all 
 had their definite precepts and customs ; whoever did not hold 
 to them was suspended in air. The Jew had to hold to that 
 which designated him as Jew and made him known as such, 
 which assigned him his definite position as Jew in the articu- 
 lation of the whole. Wanting to free oneself from it was to 
 remove the ground from under one's feet. Maimonides feels 
 that condition quite correctly when he considers the precepts 
 as ordered for the preservation of the world, as part of the 
 proper social conformation and strengthening of the social 
 tie. The Middle Ages can not get out of that circle; even if 
 his mental culture rose to the greatest height, the line of 
 limitation, within which the individual and the circle to which 
 he belonged, remained fixed and impassable. Thus Maimon- 
 ides was necessarily more interested in a purely philosophical 
 conception than in a transformation of life. If that generally 
 
Maimonides 351 
 
 offered barriers which the Middle Ages could not break 
 through, we must also not forget that Islam had become 
 fanatical in the time of Maimonides and did not at all favor 
 free, independent action of the individual. Averrhoes (Ibn 
 Roshd) was a contemporary, a little older than Maimonides, 
 an Aristotelian philosopher who represents the height of that 
 tendency in Spanish Islam, a philosopher who enjoyed great 
 esteem through the entire Middle Ages. Averrhoes, too, had to 
 bend and submit to the most customary conceptions and 
 practices. Yet a few unguarded, incautious, and very 
 innocent but for the time bold expressions brought him under 
 suspicion and exposed him to great persecution. 
 
 Thus Maimonides actually attained the greatest height 
 which it was possible to attain in Judaism at that time. He 
 was a man of the holiest and purest zeal for deeper knowledge 
 of Judaism and for general, scientific, thoroughgoing culture, 
 a man who certainly paid regard to public opinion and gave 
 honor to what had been accepted, without, however, per- 
 mitting his fervor for truth and the spreading of truth to be 
 dimmed. He does not misjudge the doubts which oppose the 
 publication of his religio-philosophical work, he himself calls 
 attention to the considerations and the form of presentation 
 which he thought necessary, and yet he knows that he could 
 not avoid offense. " In short," he says, " I am so constituted. 
 If a thought presses me, and I can present it only in a manner 
 that satisfies and aids one thinker among ten thousand men, 
 while it perhaps appears insufferable to the great mass, I 
 boldly and openly pronounce the word which illuminates the 
 intelligent one, even if the blame of the ignorant crowd is 
 cast upon me." Maimonides was a man of thought, but at 
 the same time, of the purest and most serious intent. If pure 
 knowledge, theoretical culture, was the highest to him, that 
 was yet in closest connection with pure moral action and 
 ennobling of character as the indispensable condition for 
 mental elevation. Without presumption, he is always busy 
 with self-examination. Modesty and benevolence mildly 
 shine through every one of his words, and in this way even 
 his Talmudic-legal works— a few dogmatic-metaphysical 
 
352 Judaism and Its History 
 
 severities excepted — are full of a gratifying moral warmth. 
 For that he stood highly honored as a man of mind and noble 
 deed in his own time and in all later periods. 
 
 We have now arrived at the summit of the Spanish de- 
 velopment. It could not go higher. Even if conditions had 
 remained favorable, weakening would have followed ; unfavor- 
 able conditions hastened the fall. Yet before we close with 
 the highest development of Jewish-Spanish Arabianism, let 
 it pass before us in short review. Let us imagine as present, 
 the three brilliant centuries as they passed before our eyes. 
 What magnificent results that period offers to us! Science 
 is not only nurtured, it is enriched in every relation. Knowl- 
 edge of the Hebrew language rises into science and attains a 
 degree which has not been passed until the last century. 
 Interpretation and explanation of the Scripture enter deep 
 into its meaning and stimulate the greatest problems. Phi- 
 losophy becomes common property, and though it is not 
 creative, it is yet ennobling and enlightening. The Jews did 
 not walk alongside, they stand in the front ranks of the mental 
 movement. Gabirol is one of the few who arise as genuine 
 masters of philosophy in Spain, Maimonides is the contem- 
 porary of Averrhoes, who are not mutually dependent, but 
 only at later age the labors of either become known to the 
 other. Both are the rulers on the throne of philosophy 
 through the entire Middle Ages. The Jews remain the lasting 
 intermediaries in all sciences, for the Arabian writings would 
 have perished completely and remained without influence for 
 later times if they had not been saved for us in Hebrew 
 translations, because they would have remained unknown in 
 Arabic and many of the originals were completely lost. We 
 owe it only to the zeal of the Jews that they exist yet to-day 
 as monuments of a time of fine culture. Islam rendered 
 great service to Judaism by leaving to it room; it did not go 
 in advance of it in everything and could not offer everything 
 to it, but it gave it room for the development of its powers. 
 And thus we look back upon that illustrious time as a 
 brilliant period of Judaism. We shall honor that Spanish- 
 Arabian development of Judaism. It produced men who 
 
Maimonides 353 
 
 have remained bright stars at all times. On Aben Esra, 
 Spinoza grew up. Maimonides was the teacher of the whole 
 Middle Ages, and every enlightened mind that arose later, 
 drew eagerly from him, found stimulation in him, and gladly 
 acknowledged himself his pupil. 
 
XI. 
 
 In Germany and France. 
 
 From wide, high-vaulted halls, permitting the freest move- 
 ment of the mind, I now lead you into low, narrow chambers, 
 affording very limited distance to the view. The position which 
 the Church of the Middle Ages occupied toward culture and the 
 use of reason in general, was a quite different one from that 
 which Islam held. Islam left reason wide, free room, did not 
 prescribe the results of its investigation and made no demands 
 contradictory to its natural impulses and tendency. Its deepest 
 principle, the unity and omnipotence of God, carried no op- 
 position against the demand of reasonable thought, and con- 
 sequently in its best days it always showed itself favorable to 
 the cultivation of science and philosophy. It was different 
 with the Church of the Middle Ages. From the beginning, 
 that Church had attempted to unite opposite principles within 
 itself and to make such union the basis upon which it sought to 
 erect the entire superstructure of faith. Having thus planted 
 within its own vitals an irritating contradiction, the irritation 
 became more acute with the awakening of study so that every 
 attempt to heal the wound, caused it to gape more widely. It 
 had put up, before reason, certain results which were to be 
 esteemed as inviolable and unassailable and which yet could not 
 be comprehended by it, and were in fact in complete opposi- 
 tion to reason. Thus in the development of the Church, the 
 repugnance toward the use of reason and all science had to 
 be nourished more and more. In that mental atmosphere as 
 it was wafted out from the Church, mental health within 
 Judaism could not prosper as we have seen it appear so finely 
 in the realms of Islam. The flower of true culture, deeper 
 entrance into the meaning of Scripture and into the prin- 
 ciples of Judaism as well as progress in science could not be 
 maintained as among the Spanish Jews. 
 
Islam and Judaism 355 
 
 The position of the Church toward Judaism and Jews 
 was also a wholly different one from that of Islam. This 
 permitted Judaism to walk by its side, and did not think it 
 necessary to undertake a fight against it. Relying upon its 
 power, it looked proudly down upon it; its superior domina- 
 tion was sufficient warrant for its truth. It formed no con- 
 trast to Judaism. The unity and omnipotence of God, upon 
 which it based its whole system of faith, its pure spirituality, 
 so that divinity might not be represented in image or picture, 
 the moslem heard accentuated with equal decision by Judaism 
 and he felt in that a kindred spirit. On the whole, there was 
 a certain trait of kinship between Islam and Judaism; both 
 carried the unmistakable imprint of their Oriental origin, 
 even the languages being closely related. Thus they went 
 side by side, even if not in perfect harmony, yet not repelled 
 by each other, but on the contrary tied together by similar 
 traits. Even in the customs and precepts of practical life, 
 there was a certain agreement. For Islam has taken over 
 from Judaism many legalities which he observed as seriously 
 as Judaism and its adherents. The moslem practised cir- 
 cumcision, the use of pork was prohibited to him, and in Islam 
 many other things are found which it has borrowed from 
 Judaism and has in common with it. They could remain 
 quietly side by side without troubling about each other, so 
 much the more as each had its own source and basis which 
 the other left untouched. The moslem had his koran, which 
 he esteemed as the only infallible authority. He was per- 
 fectly satisfied with it, without going back to its source, the 
 Hebrew bible. He ignored that, and since it remained strange 
 to him and he did not understand it, he left its treatment to 
 the Jews. These, on their side, were wholly taken up with 
 the bible, either knew very little of the koran or paid no 
 attention at all to it. Thus, each had its own particular 
 ground. 
 
 The position of the Church toward Judaism and the Jews 
 was quite different. The contrast between them both could 
 not be covered up; it came always clearly forward. To the 
 powerful Church, it was a thorn in the flesh, that Judaism 
 
356 Judaism and Its History 
 
 kept up at all; its very existence appeared unjustifiable to it; 
 like a mockery, every Jew was a walking protest against its 
 truth. If the Jew emphatically asserted the indivisible unity 
 of God, it was a wicked attack upon the trinity; his abstention 
 from every corporeal presentation of God appeared a denial 
 of the human incarnation of God. The belief that by proper 
 acting, even after having sinned, he might by repentance 
 regain God's favor and accordingly could obtain forgiveness 
 by his own force, was negation of original sin and necessity 
 of redemption. His hope of a better time, on the coming of 
 the Messianic Kingdom, was a blasphemous assertion that 
 the redeemer had not yet appeared. Thus the entire con- 
 tents and the whole appearance of Judaism, even if it kept 
 perfectly still, was an eloquent contradiction of Christianity. 
 At the same time, they stood on the same original ground, 
 and the Church could not tolerate the idea that Judaism 
 should claim that ground as its own. They both stood on 
 the bible. The Church asserted it was its property. Its 
 doctrine was contained in it and whoever deviated from that 
 was a heretic, an enemy of the Church, and a perverter of 
 Scripture. And since Judaism did so with that certainty 
 which the exact knowledge of the contents of the bible and the 
 superiority which the familiarity with the language of the 
 original gave it, the hatred was inextinguishable and had to 
 be so, according to the manner of that time. The Israel of 
 which the bible speaks, the Church asserted, was the Church 
 itself, although its confessors were not bodily descended from 
 Israel, yet all promises were given to it. If the Jews asserted 
 the contrary, it was an invasion of the sacred rights of the 
 Church, a wicked attempt to cut the nerve of the Church. 
 The interpretation of the bible was, accordingly, a field of 
 constantly waging battle on which they moved. What did 
 Islam care how any verse in the bible was explained? The 
 Church was greatly interested: everywhere, indications of 
 Jesus should be found, everywhere the doctrines of the 
 Church should be expressed or typically indicated. 
 
 In this way the position of Judaism and the Jews within 
 the territory of the Church was necessarily a far more un- 
 
First Period of the Middle Ages 357 
 
 favorable one than within the realms of Islam. Of course, 
 the three centuries which we have seen passing before us as 
 the time of fine, rich culture of Jewish-Arabian-Spanish 
 civilization, namely from the beginning of the tenth to the 
 end of the twelfth century, those three centuries form the 
 advance period of the real degeneracy of the Middle Ages. 
 In that time the medieval stagnation within the Church itself, 
 as well as among the Jews, had not reached its full perversity. 
 At that time there was yet a certain freshness of nature in 
 the nations that then were yet novices in Christianity. The 
 nations of Western Europe had then been converted to Chris- 
 tianity, but were still natural, still possessing plain, fresh, 
 original sentiment, not yet artificial in thinking and feeling, 
 not yet scholastically entangled. Of sound, even if uncul- 
 tured sense, the population was not yet filled with hatred of 
 the Jews as it was in later centuries of the Middle Ages. It 
 is true, persecutions, fanatical ebullitions, of course through 
 artificial spurring, took place in those centuries, as the 
 crusades belong to them too. But that was more a wild out- 
 burst of momentary passion, a running over of brute force, 
 not the uninterrupted refinement of petty cruelty which 
 pricked with needle points into the healthy and then into the 
 sore flesh and could never cease to spitefully practice its 
 petty malicious tortures. That entire time shows yet a 
 sound energy, the leading persons in the state as well as in 
 the Church show aptitude, freshness, and a forceful endeavor 
 which was stimulating, even if science in the true and full 
 sense of the word, could not prosper within that circle. 
 
 The Jews had come in early times already into Western 
 Europe. On the banks of the Rhine, in the Vosges moun- 
 tains, in Germany, in France, we meet them in early centuries, 
 we find them at the courts, as members of embassies, as 
 physicians. Their position in general was, on the whole, that 
 of a well-liked, often influential class. The suspicious tension 
 between them and the people did not yet exist. Of course, 
 we hear nothing of a special culture among them, and just as 
 little of Talmudic learning. They lived in a certain state of 
 nature like the people in whose midst they abode; enough 
 
358 Judaism and Its History 
 
 that they were firm and constant in their faith. Zealous 
 princes of the Church made violent opposition to them, like 
 Agobard of Lyon in the ninth century, but his voice dies away 
 and has no effect on the position of the Jews. An emperor 
 Charles is said to have brought along a learned Jewish family 
 from Lucca in Italy, to Germany, and some wanted to trace 
 from them the Talmudic learning which later spread in those 
 countries. But such fugitive notice is not confirmed by the 
 historic course, at least, as to any influence upon learning. 
 
 There were very old, important congregations, but before 
 the tenth century we learn even within them, nothing of any 
 particular mental movement. The congregations at Speyer, 
 Worms and Mainz are especially named to us as old, firmly 
 organized communities, and they soon come into the fore- 
 ground by a rich number of learned men in their midst. But 
 even in them there are no traces of learning before the period 
 which we are now considering. With the tenth century, all 
 at once Talmudic learning meets us quite independently and 
 fertile. Where did it come from? Everything points to the 
 fact that Talmudic learning came directly from the Gaons in 
 Babylonia to Germany and France. If the distance seems 
 to you too great under the difficulties of communication at 
 that time, such really wonderful action is repeated through 
 the entire Middle Ages that, in spite of the great impediments 
 opposed to communication, a lively intercourse is going on 
 between the Jews of the most distant countries, and that an 
 exchange of learned letters is carried on from Occident to 
 Orient, from Spain to Bohemia, from France to Bagdad. 
 This shows us how a serious mental striving knows how to 
 overcome all barriers of space. Enough! In France at first 
 a man appears who is named as propagator of Talmudic 
 learning, but of whom we know nothing more than that he 
 had a great pupil whom we shall now consider. Rabbi 
 Leontin is named to us as teacher of Gershom Ben Jehuda. 
 The name given to the latter, "Light of the Exile," announces 
 sufficiently the regard he enjoyed and the mighty influence 
 he exerted. 
 
 Gershom, who flourished at the end of the tenth and the 
 
Gershom 359 
 
 beginning of the eleventh century and who, it seems, taught 
 principally in Mainz, was a comprehensive Talmudic scholar. 
 The whole, widely branching field lay perfectly open before 
 him. He cultivated it, made various commentaries on 
 Talmudic tracts, was occupied in like manner with the bible 
 down in its detail, and we learn to know in him, even though 
 not much of his writing remains, the sober, clear, intelligent 
 mind, who does not rise boldly, does not dive speculatively 
 nor lose himself in fantastic dreaming, does not bring strange 
 presumptions to his investigations, goes objectively at what 
 is before him and apprehends that with simple, sound sense, 
 keeping close to the thought and expression. We recognize 
 also by him, how in healthy times, even without higher 
 culture, the general custom of the country and its pecularity 
 exercise an important influence upon religious views. Gershom 
 was a scholar with European sentiment, with German views, 
 and formulates them in important decisions when they deviate 
 from the Oriental view. 
 
 Judaism, according to its deepest base, knows well how to 
 recognize the dignity of woman. It, therefore, according to 
 its character, demands marriage of one man to one wife. It 
 does not favor polygamy, even if it does not prohibit it 
 straightout. The entire history bears witness to that — the 
 history of the bible and of the Talmud — so that all examples 
 of a different kind are to be considered exceptions, tolerated 
 only, while the sacred custom demands monogamy, without 
 being fixed as law. Even under Islam, which in that point 
 allows the Oriental custom in full extent, Judaism held fast 
 to its basic character, and we meet among the Jewish-Spanish 
 poets, poetical products which bear testimony to the sincerity 
 between husband and wife, bearing a wholly different char- 
 acter from the Arabic erotic poetry. A peculiar Jewish trait, 
 for instance, is an entire class of poetry which, quite strange 
 to the Arabians, is made only by Jews, as we have some 
 excellent ones by Juda Ha-Levi, namely, wedding songs, 
 which express the sacredness of marriage and the cordiality 
 of the relation between husband and wife full of deep senti- 
 ment. Thus the fixed custom, which is mightier than law, 
 
360 Judaism and Its History 
 
 has sanctified that relation. If the custom was not shaped 
 into law so that exceptions, even though occurring rarely and 
 with general disapproval, could not be proscribed, it was 
 because the conditions did not force toward it and the author- 
 ities did not think themselves justified in fixing a law for 
 which there was no support in the letter of the Scripture. 
 It was different in Western Europe. There also, outside of 
 Judaism, monogamy was the general custom; a deviation from 
 it, even if it happened only seldom, must violate the popular 
 sentiment. Accordingly, Gershom, in connection with learned 
 contemporaries, met in a synod, to sanction the custom as 
 law from now on, and polygamy was put under the ban. 
 Thus we owe to this convention of rabbis the legal fixing of 
 a principle which has root in Judaism and grew out of it 
 naturally, but which yet until then had not found legal 
 authority and recognition. We owe it to the freshness of 
 those men who understood the needs of their country and had 
 no hesitation in giving them expression. A later, narrow- 
 minded orthodoxy would have found imitation of foreign 
 custom in such action, and would have wrapped itself into 
 sickly fear, abusing the name of piety, to throw blame upon 
 the preceding ages by such an innovation, if something was 
 put under the ban, that had been tolerated before. Of such 
 narrowmindedness or refined pietism, Gershom had no idea. 
 A like narrow liberalism would in that well-timed regulation 
 have feared the hierarchical interference by a synod of rabbis. 
 That healthy, naive time did not know such weakly fears. 
 In close connection with that view are yet other decisions 
 of Gershom. One of them relates to divorce. According to 
 the Oriental view, which by the way is shared by all Antiquity, 
 divorce is entirely in the power of the husband. Already the 
 prophet Malachi designates the putting away of the wife as 
 an action hated by God, and Judaism as it was shaped about 
 the beginning of the second Temple under the rule of the 
 Sadducees and the old custom, made divorce more difficult; 
 it was to be permitted only in case of adultery committed 
 by the wife. By that, the power of the husband was limited, 
 but the remedy ending marital discord was also withdrawn. 
 
Gershom. Divorce 361 
 
 Phariseeism In its more consistent development, as repre- 
 sented by Hillel and Akiba, made divorce more easy and again 
 put it completely at the pleasure of the husband. But even 
 then the living impulse of Judaism was better and mightier 
 than the law. Divorces did not increase in number and im- 
 properly as some had expected. If in general, marriages 
 were cordial and peaceable, many difficulties in married life 
 were patiently borne, too; and the teachers give us fine 
 examples how by mildness and quiet resignation, even the 
 fate of being tied to a quarrelsome wife may be borne. It is 
 an old saying: "Even the altar sheds tears at him that puts 
 his wife away." Yet, according to law, the matter was always 
 only in the hands of the husband. The wife was provided 
 for according to his financial condition; the right was even 
 granted her, of which the bible contains nothing, to demand 
 divorce under certain circumstances and to obtain it by 
 judicial proceeding. But anyhow there remained to the 
 husband the unlimited power to put away his wife, and the 
 inclination to make use of such legal right even for small cause 
 would now — Gershom felt that very well — gain fresh strength 
 if he lost the possibility of marrying a second wife besides the 
 one looked upon with disfavor. Well considering the wife's 
 position in his country as deviating from that in the Orient, 
 Gershom ordained that divorce cannot take place without the 
 consent of the wife. A very important transformation of the 
 legal ordinances. 
 
 Yet, a similar case expresses his recognition of the greater 
 independence of the wife. According to biblical order, at the 
 death of a childless man, his wife shall be married by the 
 brother, the leviratical m^arriage shall take place. Only if the 
 brother-in-law refuses the marriage, the liberation of the wife 
 from her obligation to him is effected by a judicial proceeding 
 according to a fixed form. Accordingly, the leviratical 
 marriage was the rule; its refusal by the brother-in-law was 
 considered a blamable action and a disgracing of the widow, 
 and in its stead the so-called Chalizah took place. In Tal- 
 mudical times already, that relation between leviratical 
 marriage and its neglect with subsequent Chalizah was no 
 
362 Judaism and Its History 
 
 longer understood in that way. Many voices asserted 
 Chalizah to be preferable to marriage of the brother's widow; 
 that this should be omitted and the Chalizah be performed 
 under all circumstances. Yet the matter was not settled and 
 under Islam the opinion again prevailed which had the letter 
 of the bible and the most important Talmudical teachers on 
 its side, that the leviratical marriage held the first place, while 
 Chalizah was but a makeshift. Here, too, Gershom acted in 
 conjunction with his colleagues, in correspondence with the 
 character of his time and country and demanded that Chalizah 
 should take place under all circumstances and the leviratical 
 marriage should cease. Those are expressions of a mind, 
 bearing witness to his complete independence and a thorough 
 entrance into his time and its view. By those settlements, 
 Gershom towers far above that rigid legalism which covers 
 itself with the brazen shield of the inviolable law against 
 many a remainder of antiquated views, which deafens its ear 
 against the lamentations of the broken heart of a woman and 
 mocks its desiccation without sympathy with such suffering 
 caused by the rigors of an antiquated law as weak senti- 
 mentality. 
 
 On the whole, Gershom's tendency was a mild, natural, 
 healthy one. Gershom had to make a sad experience. His 
 son abandoned Judaism and joined the Church. When the 
 young man died, Gershom kept mourning double time, 
 fourteen days instead of the prescribed seven. As long as 
 his son was alive, he thought that he would return to his 
 father. That hope was now gone; now he must fear that his 
 son was lost to him in the next world too, and his mourning 
 was doubled. A later stunted orthodoxy will not permit to 
 a parent's heart that expression of his sorrow; it demands 
 that no mourning be done or worn for such a son, for his 
 passing away ought to make no difference. 
 
 Of other learned contemporaries in France and Germany, 
 little information has come down to us. Gershom's brother 
 Machir is named and his attempt at a dictionary, his "Alpha- 
 bet," is mentioned. Joseph Tob-Elem (Bonfils) at Limoges 
 seems likewise to belong to that period, a man of wide Tal- 
 
Rashi 363* 
 
 mudical knowledge, who earned particular merit by spreading 
 the products of Jewish literature brought over from the 
 Orient. At any rate, Gershom's light outshines them all, 
 and numerous pupils spread his fame everywhere as they 
 make the products of his learning common property. The 
 school at Worms is especially praised, where Jacob Ben Jakar, 
 Isaac Ben Jehudah, and several others appear as excellent 
 scholars of that time, although they have left no writings, 
 they fitted out a pupil who has exercised an influence the 
 more lasting upon the entire Judaism of the Middle Ages, who 
 does not rise above the character of the Jews in the Christian 
 countries of the Middle Ages, but is still an appearance as 
 amiable as he is important. Solomon Ben Isaac of Troyes 
 in the Champagne, who falls into the second half of the 
 eleventh century, from about 1040 to 1105, generally called 
 Rashi after the initial letters of his name, was, like Gershom, 
 a man of sober, clear sense, at home in his field and dominating 
 it, of amiable modesty. His own personality almost com- 
 pletely recedes behind the objects which he treats. Solomon 
 Ben Isaac wrote a commentary to the entire Talmud, the 
 whole bible, and a part of the Midrash. He composed also 
 penitential hymns, which, like all penitential hymns and 
 similar poems of the French-German Paitanim (liturgical 
 poets) have no other value than that they furnish a sad 
 illustration of the conditions then existing. He carried on 
 an extensive, learned correspondence, inquiries being ad- 
 dressed to him from all directions. In his commentaries, the 
 clear view of the commentator is recognized, who feels the 
 least difficulty which might arise in the passage for a reader 
 not so well versed. With short words, keeping close to the 
 text, he knows how to remove the difficulty and clear up the 
 darkness. He keeps off every digression and avoids every 
 discussion not strictly belonging to the subject. He wants to 
 be commentator only, and he is that completely. Of course 
 he appears to us as such, first in his commentary of the 
 Talmud. There he is perfectly on his home soil and moves 
 in his manner of view and thought. In his commentary of 
 the bible, his endeavor is similar, but here the mighty current 
 
364 Judaism and Its History 
 
 of the Talmudical way of explanation, legends and far-fetched 
 interpretations have overpowered him to such an extent that 
 he thinks himself obliged to give their results briefly, so that 
 by such proceeding the natural sense and meaning is obscured. 
 He feels that himself, and joins to the artificial Talmudical 
 and Midrashic interpretations his own simple explanation 
 and seeks, as far as it is possible for him from his standpoint, 
 to investigate the meaning of the passage of the Scripture 
 and to explain the construction by the grammatical aids at 
 his command. Of course, as far as they are at his command, 
 for the French school of that time had not got beyond the 
 degree reached by Menahem Ben Saruk and Dunash Ben 
 Librat, whose works, because written in Hebrew, were acces- 
 sible to the French scholars, while the later works, written 
 in Arabic, remained unknown to them. Thus they stayed 
 limited to the childhood of linguistical knowledge and were 
 not able to penetrate to the depth of the simple meaning. 
 As stated, Rashi was dependent upon the whole interpretation 
 as delivered to his hands by the old Talmudical writings, so 
 that his explanation often leads more away from the simple 
 meaning than up to it. Under the conditions and influences 
 of that time, the appearance of a man can not surprise us, 
 who on the one side never denies clear, undimmed view and 
 sound, sober sense, and who yet, on the other side, quite 
 harmlessly agrees with all legends and miraculous stories, 
 accepting them as perfectly valid and indisputable as if there 
 were nothing strange in them. Such is Rashi, and such is 
 his School. 
 
 Among his contemporaries and successors, of course, there 
 were men who ventured upon simple explanation of the 
 Scriptures with far more decided earnestness and conscious- 
 ness. One of Rashi 's contemporaries who later, because the 
 age had no longer an organ for his sober conception of the 
 bible, received but little attention, was Menahem Ben Chelbo, 
 whom we may designate from the quotations of his pupils 
 as the father of a reasonable exegesis in France. A nephew 
 of his, and probably grown up under his tutorship, was 
 Joseph Ben Simon Kara. A later dark age has almost buried 
 
Kara. Rashbam 365 
 
 him, too, under its rubbish, until he was again discovered in 
 our days. Kara had a bright mind, was a sober expounder 
 of Scripture who came close to critical results by his clear 
 way of looking at things, although he was without philosophic 
 culture and scientific guidance. A grandson of Rashi, as 
 famous as Talmudist as he was meritorious as expounder of 
 Scripture, Samuel Ben Meir, known by the appellation of 
 Rashbam, was a man of very fine linguistic sense and happy 
 mode of interpretation. Yet he lacked his grandfather's skill 
 in expression, so that he becomes too prolix at times and at 
 other times too brief and dark. If his clumsy way of expres- 
 sion is overcome, a treasure of sound interpretation is revealed 
 which may be used even to-day in many directions. Rash- 
 bam is fully conscious of the opposition in which the natural 
 manner of interpretation stands to the Talmudic one. He 
 himself tells us how he had many discussions with his grand- 
 father and how that famous old man had with his admirable 
 modesty admitted to the mere youth that if time were granted 
 him, he would completely rewrite his biblical commentaries 
 and shape them more according to the simple conception. 
 Samuel Ben Meir handles that manner with all decision and 
 there is no escape from his view for critical problems which 
 he solves with fine, tracing tact. 
 
 Yet the same man appears to us again as expounder of the 
 Talmud, diving into the most isolated and petty discussions, 
 perfectly naive in his views, and we scarcely comprehend how 
 the clear soberness in his biblical works can be made to agree 
 with his proceeding in those upon the Talmud, how it is 
 possible that in the latter he goes into the queerest things 
 without hesitation. The Spaniards had kept themselves 
 either on the parry against such matters or were satisfied to 
 ignore them. But those clear Frenchmen walk into them 
 without distrust. One example may suffice, and we may as 
 well quote it here as the same passage will come up again in 
 the course of our historical review. 
 
 The Talmudic legend to which we refer, belongs perhaps 
 to the queerest, even if similar ones occur. Of course, it is 
 not characteristic of the whole Talmud. Legends are, as 
 
366 Judaism and Its History 
 
 already mentioned, children of the peopIe*s poetry, fabulous 
 presentations, of which one hardly knows how the childish 
 mind conceives them, whether simply as a merry plaything or 
 if it lays claim to a serious belief in them. The legend runs 
 thus: *' Rabbi Banaa marked the grave caves, and came to 
 the one in which Abraham and Sarah are entombed. Elieser, 
 Abraham's servant, stood before it, and replied to the question 
 of Rabbi Banaa whether he might go in, that Sarah and 
 Abraham were in private, but he would ask. He returned 
 with the answer to enter, because in that world no sensuality 
 exists." The Spanish scholars passed that legend, like all 
 similar ones, in silence; they avoided it. The great con- 
 temporary, Isaac Alfasi, had not admitted it into his work. 
 And when asked how it should be taken, he said that it might 
 have been a dream of Rabbi Banaa's. Samuel Ben Meir 
 expounds the tract in which that passage occurs. He has not 
 the least doubt about the truth of the story, he makes only 
 isolated remarks: "Only to a man like Rabbi Banaa, who 
 was so devout and learned, it might have been conceded to 
 enter the grave caves of the blessed ; also, Elieser, Abraham's 
 servant, belongs to the seven persons who entered Paradise 
 alive and had an eternal life; and thus he is Abraham's 
 servant in that world as he had been in this one." The 
 Tosaphists (makers of additions), as the later teachers are 
 called, who proceeded from the School of Rashi and others, 
 have another question to join to the story; they say, "Rabbi 
 Banaa probably marked the grave caves only to designate the 
 places where there were bones of the dead which have to be 
 considered unclean. But as Abraham and Adam, to whose 
 grave Rabbi Banaa comes also, had lived before the revelation 
 on Sinai, and the law about uncleanness had its origin only 
 then, it could not apply to those patriarchs. And then they 
 grope for a solution of that difficulty. 
 
 Jacob, surnamed Tham, the brother of Samuel, also was a 
 man of great literary activity, famous on account of his great 
 Talmudic learning and ingenuity, and he was not without 
 sympathy for other scientific knowledge. A few later Spanish 
 grammatical works had reached him in translations. He had 
 
TOSAPHISTS 367 
 
 a short, personal intercourse with Aben Esra, wrote a recon- 
 ciliation between Menahem and Dunash, in which, in the 
 manner of that time, he took the side of the older Menahem, 
 and is on the other side out-and-out the beginner of that 
 method which, grasping the particular, esteems the discus- 
 sions higher than the result and raises the legends above their 
 basic idea. From those men, a school arises, called the 
 Tosaphists, which enters with a great expenditure of ingenu- 
 ity into all particulars of dialectics, discovers contradiction 
 and attempts to reconcile them, without caring for the result 
 but simply to execute a maneuver of ingenuity and mental 
 activity. We must not pass over one of Jacob Tham's 
 pupils who deserves to be assigned a very important position 
 as a simple expositor of Scripture. I mean Joseph Behor 
 Shor who, in the ways of Samuel Ben Meir, furnishes a very 
 meritorious work in his commentary of the Pentateuch, a 
 work which the centuries had also long buried, because they 
 did not know how to estimate its value, until it was again dug 
 up in our times. We meet yet industrious scholars with very 
 useful works. Thus, Tohia Ben Elieser at Mainz, plainly after 
 a residence for a long time in the Orient, puts together a 
 Talmudical collection to the Pentateuch ; and similar but more 
 comprehensive, Simon DarshaUj to whom, on the title-page 
 of his repeatedly printed work, "Yalkut," Frankfort on the 
 Main is assigned as birthplace, for which I would not under- 
 take a guarantee. If those and men like them do not repre- 
 sent an independent tendency, if they do not work with 
 creative and stimulating effect, they are yet worth our esteem 
 as being useful, collecting together from partly remote works 
 the material referring closely to passages in the bible. 
 
 In that way, all those men and their activity bear witness 
 of devoted, earnest, and mental freshness as far as it could 
 exist in that surrounding. They all are not dry scholars; all 
 their sayings are borne by enthusiastic, deep faith, breathing 
 loving fervor, and revealing pure, sound, moral sense. The 
 simplicity of the manners, the naivety of the benevolent heart 
 reconciles us with their mental conception, sometimes so 
 narrow, so that when we approach them, we are forced to say, 
 
368 Judaism and Its History 
 
 **We have entered gloomy, narrow huts, the mind's light 
 could not shine bright in there, and yet it was not extinguished, 
 and still the heart was fresh and sound.'* 
 
 That was in Northern France and in Germany. 
 
XII. 
 
 Italy and Provence. 
 
 An essential difference between the Middle Ages and 
 Antiquity, among others, is the following: In Antiquity, a 
 single people always stands in the foreground, deploys its full 
 power toward the outside and appears as surpassing the rest 
 of the world with its mental culture ; the other nations either 
 follow its lead or remain in their dark, dreaming life. In such 
 solitary prevalence, the Egyptians, the Assyrians, the Baby- 
 lonians, the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, take their 
 turns. In the Middle Ages, the relation shapes itself differ- 
 ently. Several nations live side by side, remaining on the 
 same plane, even if dissimilar and differing among themselves 
 in power and mental progress, but representing together in 
 general a certain division of the world relative to power and 
 mental effect. That is to be ascribed partly to the influence 
 of the ruling Church. Antiquity produced everything out of 
 the people; mental culture and religion were its own full 
 property as it grew out of it, and for that reason it had to 
 shape itself to a power dominating the less developed nations. 
 In the Middle Ages, the Church was a universal power, it 
 represented itself as such, standing above all nations, acknowl- 
 edging the life of no single nation, or rather, no national life 
 at all, as justifiable. It did not permit that the individuality 
 of a nation should become a creative energy which might 
 produce something out of itself. It wanted to be the only 
 power to which all mankind must do homage, out of which 
 they must draw all their force. Civil life was considered 
 subordinate, the whole worldly activity was adjudged vain, 
 null and void, and accordingly, each people might carry on 
 their affairs, but the Church alone was the institution which 
 contained the mental and spiritual treasures for all and dealt 
 them out equally to all. Thus the mental life was separated 
 
370 Judaism and Its History 
 
 from the popular life, the state had no inspiration, religion 
 and science were without real life, without the energy which, 
 rooting in the innermost impulses of the people, constantly 
 receives new nourishment out of the soil of actuality. And 
 both religion and science, became mere shadows or rigid 
 shapes which did not live in the innermost heart of the people. 
 Thus the intermediate link which joins popular life with 
 higher popular culture was missing too; viz., the cultured 
 language which, through the nobility of the thought that 
 science puts into it, elevates even the ordinary relations of 
 life, talked about in it, and keeps scientific investigation in 
 connection with practical life. The affairs of daily life 
 belonged, in the Middle Ages, to the popular language, 
 uncultured and barbarized, which increased the rudeness of 
 the manners and the want of taste in modes of conception. 
 The affairs of science and religion were the property of a 
 language of scholars, which remained remote from the people, 
 and being dead, did not draw out of the constantly running 
 fountain of life and rejuvenate itself. In addition, that 
 language of scholars, Latin, was not permitted to lead back 
 to its classic products. Being works of Paganism, they were 
 proscribed and only the degenerate, fossilized manner of 
 monkish expression was permitted. A long barrier to a free 
 development of the mind among Christian humanity. 
 
 On the other side, that arrangement of states was prepared 
 by the Church which permitted the existence of different 
 nations, side by side, and gradually brought forth a group of 
 formed states, that arrangement of states which later pre- 
 vailed as a political axiom under the name of European 
 balance of power, and strives now for acknowledgment as the 
 right of the nationalities. Thus we see during the Christian 
 Middle Ages, several nations, side by side, painfully working 
 themselves up out of the mental stagnation and equally taking 
 interest in the higher affairs of mankind, according to the 
 plane which they occupied. In the same way, we meet within 
 Jewry of that time in the different countries with the con- 
 temporaneous and equal endeavor of learning, and we see 
 men arise everywhere who unite in themselves a great amount 
 
DoNOLO 371 
 
 of knowledge as the exponents of the time. As in Germany 
 and France, we meet the same phenomenon in the other 
 countries which had at that time reached a certain degree 
 of culture. In Italy too, learning developed at first on the 
 Talmudical field only. 
 
 Italy, that land in which so many fragments of old culture 
 were scattered about everywhere, in which it should be 
 expected that the immediate succession to Antiquity should 
 produce a deep effect upon the whole life, Italy stood at that 
 time no higher than any one of the other countries. There, 
 too, science was in its infancy, befogged by the spooky shapes 
 which the religious tendency of the times had conjured up. 
 Accordingly, we find in Italy within Jewry also, although it 
 had gained a home in that soil for centuries, no appearance 
 of anything to attract attention, down to the eleventh cen- 
 tury. Out of the first half of the tenth century, a long- 
 forgotten man has been awakened in our days into historic 
 life. Physician, astronomer, astrologer, active also in the 
 field of Jewish knowledge, Shabthai Donolo, or DonuluSy 
 stood on the summit of the science of the times, but what 
 that summit means, is well enough known. Medical knowl- 
 edge at all times was not strange to the Jews. It was a free 
 science, which yet offered a secure position for living. Accord- 
 ingly, as we find everywhere and at all times, even in countries 
 and periods where science and culture were at a low ebb, 
 Jewish physicians and medical authors, so Shabthai was also 
 active as physician, astrologer and as commentator of the 
 booklet on the creation (Yezirah), in a certain sense also a 
 philosophical author. If we put him beside his contem- 
 porary and acquaintance, St. Nilus, it would be difficult to 
 deny him the preference in real human culture, scientific 
 intelligence and purified devoutness. When St. Nilus became 
 sick, Shabthai offered him his services. But the former 
 declined them; he feared that his cure by a Jew might injure 
 the position of the Church. 
 
 Only about the end of the eleventh century — he finished 
 the work in 1101 — ^we make the acquaintance of a Talmudical 
 scholar who has attained importance as an author. Nathan 
 
372 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Ben Yechiel of Rome composed a large dictionary to the 
 Talmud, the Midrashim, and the Targum (the Chaldec trans- 
 lation of the bible). It is not supported by higher scientific 
 intelligence, but it offers so rich material and rests on such 
 ancient sources that it lies before us a treasure that has not 
 been fully exploited even now. We have learned how Aben 
 Esra found Italy; he left no deeper impressions there. Even 
 Solomon Parchon, a pupil of Aben Esra and of Juda Ha-Levi, 
 a Spanish refugee, does not effect much there by his diction- 
 ary which, following Abulwalid, he finished at Salerno in 1160. 
 Italy remains up to the period which we have designated 
 as the terminal point of the present consideration, i. e., the 
 end of the twelfth century, on the same plane on which the 
 other Christian countries were stopping. 
 
 The Provence offers a somewhat different aspect. That 
 sunny part of France was more independent in its civil and 
 political relations, and the various influences which came in 
 from abroad, stimulated activity in many ways. France, 
 from its beginning, had the tendency to firmer centralization 
 so that the power of the crown was more influential and the 
 people more compact and united. But that had, in the 
 Middle Ages the disadvantageous consequence for the Jews 
 that they were totally pressed to the rear and out as an alien 
 element, and it actually very soon occurred in Northern 
 France. But in the South, the individual barons and counts 
 possessed greater independence, the people had a freer devel- 
 opment, and the Jewish people, too, enjoyed far greater 
 liberty. Still, in the middle of the twelfth century, we run 
 across a document by which a Jewish owner of real estate, 
 Kalonymos Ben Todros, sells to the Commander of St. Jean 
 two properties with all manorial rights which he had held as 
 owner. If such freer condition tended to mental development 
 in all directions, the geographical position at that time also 
 had an excellent effect on its intellectual advance. It lay 
 half way between France and Spain. From the former came 
 the severe, almost gloomy, Talmudical learning into the 
 country, from Spain the stream of science flowed in. Not 
 enough that numerous emigrants from Spain who escaped 
 
Provence .. 373 
 
 from the persecutions of the Almohades increased the popu- 
 lation of the Provence by settling there; they brought along 
 from their former home the entire rich culture and the treas- 
 ures of their science and literature, and tried to make another 
 home for them in their new country. 
 
 Before that, we meet in that country beginnings of learn- 
 ing, Talmudic and Midrashic authorities, like Moses Darshan 
 of Narbonne, who flourished there about the first half of the 
 eleventh century, and others who were teachers and propa- 
 gators of Talmudic science. In the twelfth century, the 
 group of men is numerous, who, provided with all aids of 
 Talmudic spirit and knowledge, made an excellent record, 
 practically and theoretically. In Lunel, Meshullam Ben Jacob 
 lived with his learned sons, also his pupil Serachya Ben Israel 
 Ha-Levij who is described as of Spanish descent, a man of 
 great self-consciousness, decided power, and great intelligent 
 youthfulness, who provided glossaries to the works of earlier 
 Talmudic scholars and asserted his own, independent view 
 in opposition to them. His fight against a great teacher, he 
 even defends in the preface with the words, "The old sages 
 say, *Dear is Plato to me, dear is Socrates,* but dearest to 
 me is truth." That is an assertion of independent conviction 
 against the belief in authority by words of Greek wisdom. 
 There in Posquieres lived Abraham Ben David, a man of vast 
 Talmudic learning, of bold mind, but in ill humor at every 
 opposition, and looking gloomily upon Spanish tendency and 
 dissatisfied with the Talmudic work of Maimonides, which 
 was the only work of that author he was acquainted with. 
 There was also Isaac Ben Ahhamari at Marseilles, author of a 
 learned Talmudic work, "Ittur," and many others. 
 
 The Provence is yet more important as go-between, 
 between the Northern-French and the Spanish views, or 
 rather by the labor of bringing the Spanish-Arabian works, 
 which would later have been inaccessible to the Jews, to the 
 knowledge of those who did not understand Arabic, in Hebrew 
 adaptations and translations, and thus spread them all over. 
 Already in the first half of the twelfth century we notice the 
 individual appearance of men of science coming over from 
 
374 Judaism and Its History 
 
 Spain; among others, Abraham Ben Chiyah, a mathematician, 
 who appears as an authority to the mathematicians of the 
 Middle Ages under the mutilated name Savasorda. Two 
 families gained excellent merit in the second half of the 
 twelfth century and exerted a peculiarly great influence upon 
 succeeding times. They are Kimchi and the Thibbon 
 families, Joseph Ben Isaac Kimchi^ the father, and his two 
 learned sons, Moses and David Kimchi^ as imitators, brought 
 linguistic knowledge, grammar, lexicography, sober explana- 
 tion of the bible, from Spain over into the Provence. Joseph 
 Kimchi composed commentaries to many biblical works, 
 adapted and translated some philosophical and poetical pieces 
 of literature of Spain, and thus became one of the new founders 
 of scientific life for the entire Middle Ages. Moreover, the 
 influence of the new home upon the linguistic treatment of 
 the Hebrew appears in Joseph Kimchi in a remarkable manner. 
 The Jewish grammarians among the Arabians had, according 
 to the peculiarity of the Arabic language, put up also for the 
 Hebrew three principal vowels; namely, a, e, o. Joseph 
 Kimchi was the first one who, influenced by the Romanic 
 languages, carried the division into five vowels also into 
 Hebrew, and that, with double marks for long and short 
 vowels. Both of his sons followed his way. Of greater 
 importance than the older son Moses who perhaps attained 
 greater fame than he merits, David, known everywhere under 
 the name Redak^ was the teacher of the entire Middle Ages 
 by his grammar, his dictionary, and his commentary on the 
 bible, and honored as almost indisputable authority. That 
 scholar well merits the fame and the respect he enjoys, by 
 his exact carefulness and his intelligent industry as collector, 
 even if he was not a creative energy. Just by not striving 
 for originality, by only desiring to present plainly and to 
 transmit comprehensibly, his effect was more lasting and he 
 became the reliable guide of the entire Middle Ages until the 
 past century; and even to-day, his writings are properly 
 much esteemed and offer instruction much material that has 
 not yet been exhausted. 
 
 The other family, the Thibbons, followed the Spaniards 
 
The Thibbons 375 
 
 much more closely. While the Kimchis worked more inde- 
 pendently, the Thibbons were satisfied to make translations 
 and closely followed the tracks of their predecessors and 
 masters. Jiida Ben Saul Thibbon, also at the beginning of 
 the second half of the twelfth century was a physician, pos- 
 sessed an exact knowledge of Arabic, and was a man of high 
 general culture. He not only translated grammatical books, 
 like the works of Abulwalid, which thereby became also 
 accessible to the younger Kimchis who, as it seems, did not 
 understand Arabic, but his greatest merit consists in having 
 made translations of the works of the Arabian-Jewish philos- 
 ophers. He translated the religio- philosophical works of 
 Saadias, the *' Duties" of Bechai Ben Bakuda, the religio- 
 philosophical book Cusari of Juda Ha-Levi, and other things. 
 Those works, if they had remained in Arabic only, might 
 perhaps in our days have been found again and appeared as 
 monuments of boldly striving, mightily wrestling and investi- 
 gating minds. But they would have had no effect, would 
 not have illuminated the long darkness. We owe it to Juda 
 Thibbon that those works were not only preserved through 
 the entire Middle Ages but that they flowed as a stream of 
 life through their sandy desert and impregnated it in many 
 ways. The oppressed spirit was refreshed by them, the 
 hearts bowed down were raised by them. Juda Thibbon had 
 an only son, Samuel. It is something peculiarly pathetic, if 
 we are introduced into the close domesticity and the little 
 cares of a scholar of merit, and that is permitted to us by 
 Juda Thibbon. We have a writing from him to his son 
 which contains a sort of scientific testament. Samuel, being 
 an only son, seems to have been somewhat spoiled. His 
 father cared for him with the greatest tenderness, took every 
 means to expand his mental power in the best manner, kept 
 for him the most excellent instructors, encouraged him in 
 every way, and on that very account, Samuel was peevish 
 and the petty pedantic guidance of his father made him 
 unwilling. In this testament, Juda complains of that and 
 exhorts his dear son, against whom he could not make any 
 other complaint, who was well endowed by nature and 
 
376 Judaism and Its History 
 
 possessed praiseworthy moral sentiment, to respond more to 
 his care. He had put up so many fine book-cases for him, 
 procured expensive works, all books were beautifully written, 
 bound excellently, and kept in good order. He had advised 
 him to write a fine, neat hand as he had noticed he could do, 
 had encouraged him in the study of Arabic and all sciences 
 and smoothed the way for him; in all books he would find 
 notes made to facilitate the understanding. What he had 
 so far done sluggishly, he ought now to attend to seriously, 
 as he would soon have no guide. He should take good care 
 of the books, take the unbound Hebrew ones out of the cases 
 and dust them once a month, the Arabic ones once in two 
 months, and the bound ones every three months, and thus he 
 continues with similar exhortations. I hardly think that 
 such well-intended and tender anxiety or benevolent torture 
 could have effected much; it might rather have set the son 
 still more against those studies than guide him up to them. 
 But the sun of Maimonides arose. That work, "The Guide 
 of the Perplexed" made a striking impression on the spoiled 
 youth by the fullness of the thoughts, the boldness and power 
 of conviction and the rounding out of his system. He needed 
 no further spurring to study. Samuel went at it with a will, 
 and resolved to translate the work. He opened communi- 
 cation with the author and sent him his translation for 
 approval and correction, piece by piece. The correspondence 
 between Samuel and Maimonides is as fine as instructive. 
 Thus, taking no account of some other translations made by 
 him, and his own literary attempts, Samuel executed a very 
 meritorious work by his translation of the "Guide." To him 
 we owe it that later times came into its possession and received 
 its fructifying effect. 
 
 By their translations, the Thibbons became the creators 
 of the peculiar philosophical, Hebrew style. Neither the 
 language of the bible, nor that of the rabbis was sufficient to 
 render all philosophical terms according to their speculative 
 development. The careful endeavors of the Thibbons have 
 created a philosophic-Hebrew language which is not elegant 
 but has the advantage of definiteness and exact expression 
 
The Church in the Middle Ages 377 
 
 of the thought. It gained adoption into Jewish literature and 
 became generally comprehensible in spite of its occasional 
 strange new formations. It grew into a pliant instrument for 
 the expression of philosophic ideas for later authors, and thus 
 again a new germ for rich growth of culture in succession. 
 The Provence had become a store-house for the manifold 
 treasures of learning, a gathering place for minds very differ- 
 ently developed and separate. Will they have peaceable 
 communication together? 
 
 We have come to the summit of the Middle Ages. With 
 the end of the twelfth century an important period closes for 
 the history of the Middle Ages in general as well as for the 
 history of Judaism within it. History has passed through 
 twelve centuries. We have kept company with it, and we 
 began the journey with two great events; the entrance of 
 Christianity into the world's history and the dissolution of 
 the Jewish nationality. In the course of those twelve cen- 
 turies, the Church has constantly extended its power and has 
 become dominant afar. Its first home, where its cradle 
 stood, it was soon forced to leave, and it has never carried 
 any fructifying life there. Palestine has never attained a 
 flowering growth through the Church; though the land wais 
 at one time in possession of the Church, it did not remain so. 
 Its second home was the city and the empire where the Church 
 mounted the throne. In Constantinople, in the Eastern 
 Roman Byzantine Empire, it attained domination in the 
 fourth century. It did not bring the blessings of a rich 
 development to that new home either. The Byzantine 
 Empire shrank together within itself, its power and mental 
 culture became empty formulas, stunted into quarrels about 
 etiquette, until that home in course of a later time was also 
 taken from the Church. But it has founded a third home for 
 itself and spread from there the fullness of its whole power 
 over the Occident. From Rome, which has not yet lost the 
 old right of possession to be the center of the world and all 
 political dominion, the Church has extended its influence afar, 
 has constantly increased its power in the course of those 
 centuries, and has attained its summit at the end of the 
 
378 Judaism and Its History 
 
 twelfth century. Yet it was not able in the first centuries to 
 penetrate the Roman people, the Italian state; it could furnish 
 no resistance to the submersion by barbarism. Pressure of 
 barbarism can overcome and throw down only there where it 
 strikes against inert, mindless masses, against effeminate 
 people with hollow, pseudo-culture. The living spirit, 
 awakened consciousness of the people, a refined mind, opposes 
 a powerful dam to the attacking flood, to the raw, natural 
 force. The migration of nations did not destroy Roman 
 culture, Roman culture was already collapsed, the Church 
 had not breathed a new, healthy spirit into it, and therefore 
 the migration of nations could force in without hindrance. 
 The Church, being carrier of higher ideas, tamed those savage 
 hordes ; that is its greatest merit. Yet it did not prove itself 
 a higher intellectual power to which free minds willingly do 
 homage, which brings all noble impulses in the character and 
 life of the people to development ; it became a spiritual power 
 that bent down the enslaved minds under itself. In the 
 course of those twelve centuries, there arose no new science, 
 no popular literature fed by the fresh forces and matter. 
 There is a long desert with scantily wrung fruits, a dried-up 
 scholarship, torturing dissection of uncomprehended ideas. 
 Facing such impressions and phenomena, Judaism had no 
 inducement to withdraw from the stage of the world, it did 
 not hear the urgent admonition of the world's history: 
 "Cease, a new living force has arisen which accomplishes 
 your task in higher manner." At the side of those phenomena, 
 Judaism had the complete right to preserve and present its 
 truth. 
 
 If in those twelve centuries, Judaism had to pass through 
 difficult times, worse were yet to come. With the beginning 
 of that period, a wholly new life commenced; no longer carried 
 by a closely secluded nation, its scattered individuals sent out 
 into widely different directions, the doubt might well arise: 
 Can such a cleft people preserve itself? Can a religion joined 
 so closely with the life of the state, continue without it? 
 History has banished such misgivings. Those torn-apart 
 members have accomplished a great work. Well considering 
 
Judaism in the Middle Ages 379 
 
 the circumstances of the time, they built manifold bulwarks 
 and walls around about themselves, in order not to succumb 
 to the pressure from without, and yet have shaped themselves 
 by great intrinsic force of preservation and evolution out of 
 national life into a fellowship of faith. They have elaborated 
 their system with mental abundance, have fortified and made 
 themselves more and more unassailable in the truths of the 
 faith, but have also imbued life with the views which, if in 
 part, forcibly retaining a passed away time, yet in part 
 impressed upon it true consecration and spiritual elevation. 
 Thus they have faithfully preserved their intrinsic property, 
 even if yielding here and there to the pressure that bore upon 
 them from without and led them to malformations; they have 
 elaborated their system to its depth and in all directions, and 
 have taken a lively part in all higher interests of life, especially 
 of intellectual life, as far as they were given room. In the 
 meantime, Judaism has impregnated the Church with a 
 knowledge of the Hebrew bible, has nurtured Islam in its 
 cradle, has matured new linguistic knowledge, has graven 
 deep marks in the development of every science in times when 
 mental elevation was possible. 
 
 What gives it its charter of nobility, is that during that 
 entire period it never lost the benevolent, genuinely humane 
 sentiment toward its own members as well as toward outsiders. 
 No proof is needed for the delicacy of feeling which Jews have 
 shown at all times toward their fellow-believers; it is a well- 
 known fact. But also toward other religions which had only 
 the word of damnation against men of other faiths, Judaism 
 held fast to the word which we already heard in the Talmudic 
 time, that the righteous of all various nations and religions 
 have a share in the future life. That had penetrated all circles 
 and strata of the Jewish popular life. When a Moslem, 
 convert to Judaism, heard from his teacher the harsh word, 
 that he had been an idolator before, and directed an inquiry 
 on that point to Maimonides, he was answered: "Such a 
 sentence is to be doubly disapproved, when coming from one 
 who should serve as teacher and pattern. If professors of 
 Islam tell falsehoods about the Jews, that does not give pro- 
 
380 Judaism and Its History 
 
 fessors of Judaism the right of judging Islam more severely 
 than it merits. The professors of Islam make pilgrimages to 
 Mecca and pray at the Kaaba, that old black stone which 
 had been idolatrously worshiped during pagan times among 
 the Arabs. But that could not be counted idolatry, it being 
 merely an old custom, while the belief in the one God is and 
 remains the basis and center of Islam." That corresponds 
 perfectly to another Talmudic saying, that the nations outside 
 of the holy land were not idolators and had simply preserved 
 the customs of their fathers, without idolatry taking root in 
 their heart. That doctrine had at all times the force of law 
 in Judaism, in spite of the fact that from its point of view, 
 the religion of the surrounding nations must have appeared 
 to it a second edition of heathenism. 
 
 During that entire period, the teachers and carriers of 
 Judaism shine by learning and purity of morals. In the 
 Church, it is not rare that even highest dignitaries are deeply 
 sunk in ignorance. The pride of Judaism was the fostering 
 of learning. Only the scholar enjoyed lasting honor ; everyone 
 considered it a holy duty to have a knowledge of the doctrine 
 according to his power and opportunity; his joy was in inter- 
 course with scholars, and it was a raising of his own value, to 
 esteem science in others. In other faiths, cases of demoraliza- 
 tion just in the places where we should expect virtue and 
 justice, love and benevolence, are not rare; with the Jewish 
 teachers, sense of justice, sentiment of fairness, and mild 
 disposition prevail, and an exception could hardly be 
 found. From all those centuries, we possess opinions and 
 legal decisions upon the most various relations in life, and in 
 all of them, sound sense and a clear conception of life are 
 joined to most severe impartiality, unbending sense of justice, 
 most serious care for preservation of morality and promotion 
 of the common weal. All honor to those men, able of mind 
 and heart, even if many among them could not pass beyond 
 the low standard of their time and country. 
 
 Judaism of the Middle Ages also reached its summit about 
 that time. From now on, the course is downward in the 
 history of the Middle Ages, as in that of Judaism. Within 
 
The Protestant Reformation 381 
 
 the Church, decompositions and frictions take place, the 
 nationalities want to work up, science wants to attain liberty 
 — but the Church draws the reins tighter, to prevent that. 
 From time to time, a mortal combat arises, but the power of 
 the Church is not broken, free movements are watched with 
 more suspicion and persecuted more severely. Then from all 
 sides arises the rallying cry: "Reform all through, reforma- 
 tion of morals, views, faith and life!" Again it almost seems 
 the call will be choked in blood and the flame of the pyre. 
 But no ! A part secedes, but the old Church retains its power 
 over the greater part. About the second half of the sixteenth 
 century the nations wrestle up and are still wrestling with the 
 old view which has not fully lost its power, which still to-day 
 sends out the fulminations of excommunications even if they 
 no longer set afire, and which still to-day comes forward with 
 the same, or even increased wrath against all science and 
 political formation. 
 
 Judaism has, during the course of that time, a doubly 
 difficult position for contrary reasons; it is persecuted by two 
 enemies, hostile to each other. The old animosity of the 
 Church is not decreased, but even the new rising nationality 
 looks no less unfriendly upon Judaism. People and state 
 have not yet the full consciousness of their power, they do not 
 yet possess the confidence in themselves that they can also 
 receive strange matter into their body, work it up and divest 
 it of its strangeness. To the just awakening and easily 
 vulnerable nationality, Judaism and its believers appear 
 strange material that must be excluded and kept off. Thus, 
 persecuted by both parties, crushed from without and within, 
 Judaism leads a sad existence for several centuries till in the 
 middle of the last century. Then a new time begins for it 
 also, a new light illuminates mankind, shines through the wide 
 spaces of the world, and penetrates also into the dark chambers 
 of Jewry. 
 
 How the time will develop farther, how mankind will 
 form itself in that wrestling, is not in doubt for the presentient 
 eye, spying into the distance. The mind of mankind is 
 striving upward, the nations altogether as individual members 
 
382 Judaism and Its History 
 
 of one great body of humanity will be illuminated by the real, 
 divine spirit, all mutually promoting, strengthening, and 
 purifying each other, and religion will appear as the energy 
 of life, rejuvenated as the noblest flower of wisdom in the 
 minds. Whether it will be that religion which has inherited 
 the power, whether it will be able to work up to the full 
 height of accomplishing its reconciliation with the live, political 
 spirit and with science — to render a final verdict on that, may 
 be left to the future. At any rate, Judaism, since it is permit- 
 ted to enter into the full movement of the world's history, has 
 rejuvenated its spirit, received science, and has partly broken 
 through the bars which excluded it as mere national faith from 
 the rest of mankind. That change of form and mental transfor- 
 mation of Judaism is a fact which it has already accomplished 
 during the narrow, only gradually widening opening of its 
 jail gates, a fact out of the history of the last, painful century 
 which is graven with shining lines into the tablets of history. 
 Animated by the breath of complete liberty, constantly 
 more and more imbued with the spirit of science and widening 
 and deepening the view, Judaism of the present will steadily 
 become more and more conscious of its task and strive for 
 its accomplishment, a task which corresponds as much to all 
 deeper endeavor of the present as it is deeply rooted in its own 
 basic essence: to become the religion of mankind. Only that 
 religion which is reconciled with free thought has the justifica- 
 tion, but at the same time also, the guarantee of its continuance. 
 On the contrary, every religion which makes battle against 
 the right of the mind will be crushed under the wheels of 
 time. Only that religion which carries the guarantee of its 
 future within itself, which considers it its task to spend its 
 blessings to all mankind, and therefore presents itself to the 
 totality in a form fit for it, not one that confines itself to a 
 narrow circle, withdraws into a cell, bars itself from the rest 
 of mankind as if that were a soulless or alien body and is 
 absorbed by preference into its own petty interests. Judaism 
 will always bear in mind that it is called to strive for the goal, 
 even if that can not be brought about by us alone, that God 
 will be acknowledged as one, and His name as one. 
 
Notes. 
 
 1. To 7 (Page 298) 
 
 These words are quoted in the Hebrew original by Abul- 
 walid in Rikmah C, 21 end page 140. The last word is to 
 be read ^nmo according to the manuscript, instead of *nnD 
 as it appears in print. That Menahem is the author of the 
 verses and that they are addressed by him to Chasdai is a 
 supposition which experts will approve. 
 
 2. To 7 (Page 299) 
 
 As the verses now appear, the acrostic p'm |a KnJK is 
 given. That the beginning of one verse should be read 
 nit3 (with Beth), instead of niTB Luzatto has already shown 
 from the first edition (Kerem Chemed VIII., page 86). 
 He then also recognized (ibid, page 188) that the name 
 Menahem Ben Saruk is in the acrostic, he having indicated 
 himself thereby as composer of the epistle. But how about 
 the three wrong letters? Luzatto supposes that Menahem 
 had been afraid and had hidden his name by exchanging the 
 letters. No proper reason can be imagined for such a game 
 of hide-and-seek which would have served no purpose and 
 would have destroyed the aim of the acrostic. I rather 
 suppose that Menahem had originally shown his name in full 
 and that his words appear now before us in changed form. 
 The sentence: D^DM 1DK^»:i wnvn IDIK may have been origin- 
 ally: D^DTi 1D1K1 D^nyn )^^D as he uses later on in the letter 
 the expression: D^nyn OtJ'D 1&J^« IV and by that, the first Mem 
 in Menahem would be established instead of the Alef. At 
 the beginning of the sentence >S3 K'-iDN ^ni^i^^X fiN ^« the 
 fitting word UMD may have dropped out, perhaps >:^y «15^K 
 stood in place of ^33 C^'IDK ; that will restore the second Mem 
 in Menahem. The words 21 ^^o nnp nVJ were probably 
 preceded by n^D which all ancients, and Menahem too, render 
 
384 Judaism and Its History 
 
 "forever" (compare his dictionary, Edition Filipowsky 
 page 120); and hereby the Samekh in Saruk would be 
 restored. If my supposition is correct, that the acrostical 
 indication of his name at the side of that of his patron 
 excited the ire of Chasdai against Menahem, it is also very 
 explicable that he caused the destruction of that acrostic, 
 which was easily attained by the omission of the first word of 
 the last two verses, and by transposition in the first one, 
 which was then closer to the biblical language because in the 
 bible ,'IK'D , used of time dragging along, occurs only in 
 Niphal, while Menahem here, where the Mem demanded by 
 the acrostic might induce it, but also in the body of the letter 
 where nothing forced it, uses the Kal in that sense. So 
 much, to support the position given in the text, which I want 
 to be considered a supposition only. 
 
 3. To 10. (Page 335) 
 
 It does not matter who was the Greek Talmudist whom 
 Aben Esra inveighed against so violently in that poem, and 
 we shall hardly be able to fix particulars about him, as Aben 
 Esra himself gives but dim indications about his person. 
 Luzatto, who was the first one to publish the poem (Kerem 
 Chemed IV., page 138), thought by one verse of it, that the 
 man's name was Shimei (page 139, Note 6). But that rests 
 on a misunderstanding. The words from which Luzatto con- 
 cludes that name, are (page 140): 
 
 iDytD Dy \)2^n) )dv t^'n^m idc^d '>vn^ idd 
 D^K^VD Y^P^ M^ n'>^ Dnn ^Ji> :D^p>ny Dnm 
 
 To that, Luzatto very correctly annotates (Note 8) that 
 if *' •'Jr " (the Greek), in numerical value of the letters = 
 76 is added to >yoj^ = 420, the sum, 496, corresponds to 
 the word j*1pK^ (abomination). But the preceding words 
 clearly indicate a play with the numerical value of the name, 
 and that the man's name was not Shimei. They are to be 
 rendered Odc^3) with Beth is probably better): "As much 
 as Shimei is in his name if his surname is added; the 
 
Notes 385 
 
 agreement of the numerical value with the meaning of the 
 word is an old, well-proved matter.'* Then he continues in 
 the same manner: "Add to them (the given name and the 
 patronymic), ^J1> , and it becomes Y^P^' . Accordingly, the 
 man's name was not Shimei, but his two names, of which 
 one is surname, equal Shimei in numerical value; by which 
 Shimei Ben Gera, who cursed and abused David, is indi- 
 cated (2 Sam. 16, 5, etc.), and the Greek is compared to 
 him because he attacked great teachers in like manner with 
 curses and abuse. But the real name is not given by Aben 
 Esra, and we can only guess at it by calculation. That 
 makes one suppose — without guarantee for its correctness — 
 that the Greek's name was |nD ntJ^D which two names, 
 given name and surname, together have the numerical value 
 420, just like "yoK^ . Of course, there is little gained by 
 guessing the name, as there is no Moses Cohen in Greece of 
 that time known or mentioned elsewhere, and as Aben Esra 
 described him, he would not be worth further search. But 
 other arbitrary suppositions that have been made with such 
 great assurance in this matter, are hereby shown to be 
 erroneous. 
 
Appendix 
 
Open Letter 
 
 To Professor Dr. H. I. Holtzmann, 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 You have honored the first volume of this book by 
 such a circumstantial discussion* that I feel obliged to 
 return the attention by entering into an examination of 
 the views you have put up in opposition to mine. What 
 we have to discuss between ourselves, are questions of general 
 interest; personal position can place no weight into the 
 balance. If my assertions are correct, it does them no detri- 
 ment that they "come from the mouth of a Jewish rabbi," a 
 man of whom you presume "that the questions treated of 
 here with such frankness about religion, revelation, Scripture, 
 biblical history, have already been decided in advance and 
 that in a sense which admits of no variations.'* That pre- 
 sumption only proves that within Christian-theological 
 scholardom there is no idea of the mighty spiritual movement 
 which has ruled at all times in Judaism and has prevailed 
 with renewed vigor during recent years. It is therefore not 
 surprising that you now, in me, "meet a Judaism which you 
 have not known thus far, at the sight of which you look in 
 vain for traces of Semitism, reminiscences of Eisenmenger^ 
 and even for echoes of the language of Canaan." 
 
 Such opening words might really spoil all desire of reading 
 on; to such degree they raise the presumption of mental 
 narrowness. Something like musty odor sticks to them and 
 they come close to the manner with which the anonymous 
 correspondent of the Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung reviews 
 my book, whose entire proceeding makes the impression of a 
 half -knowing dilettanteism. In fact, it is highly surprising 
 to me how you lean upon him in such dependence, copy his 
 
 * Protestantlsche Kirchenzeitung, 1865, No. 10, pp. 225-237. 
 
390 Judaism and Its History 
 
 disgusting pretenses of humorous allusions to Shylock and 
 become so captivated by them that you turn Shylock yourself 
 and ironically address me as "wise judge." So much as 
 passing remark. But do you really believe that in the pre- 
 sentation of Judaism reminiscences from Eisenmenger must 
 rise up to you? Is it possible that such is your knowledge of 
 Judaism, especially of biblical Judaism, which was principally 
 treated of in the first volume? Against such poorly stocked 
 knowledge, it is hardly worth while to dispute. You looked 
 in vain for traces of Semitism and even for echoes of the 
 language of Canaan. My German style should abound with 
 very rude Hebraisms and bad errors of speech, to be acknowl- 
 edged as Jewish by you. For what other purpose should the 
 language of Canaan serve here? Has every presentation of 
 Christianity to carry the imprint of the poor Hebrew-Grecian 
 dialect in which the earliest Christian writings are composed, 
 to be permitted to lay claim to fidelity? You look in vain for 
 traces of Semitism? With that word, a very wicked game is 
 played in recent times. The generic notion of Semitism 
 primarily expresses the gathering of a number of nations with 
 speech of the same family of languages and to whom therefore 
 it is believed to be proper to ascribe a common descent. In 
 the former conception, which can not be doubted, as well as 
 in the latter, which arises from analogy, a certain common 
 mental disposition of those nations, a certain view of matters 
 common to all, is acknowledged. That, too, may be called 
 Semitism. But the mental peculiarity clinging to such a 
 family of nations is difficult to grasp, and still more so to 
 characterize so definitely that such character could everywhere 
 with certainty be proved in their products. Such classifica- 
 tion has led into great errors in recent times. Sometimes 
 taking all Semitic nations together, a monotheistic instinct 
 has been attributed to them, while not one Semitic nation 
 outside of the Jews professed monotheism and that belief is 
 not original with the Arabs, but was accepted by them. On 
 the other hand, all philosophic disposition was denied to those 
 nations, while those of the Aryan or Indo-German family 
 were put forward as endowed with especial philosophic pro- 
 
Appendix 391 
 
 fundity. As if all European nations had not been philosoph- 
 ically educated solely through their contact with Hellenism — 
 which in part was brought to them by Arabianism and 
 Judaism — while they were not able to produce by themselves 
 any other culture nor any philosophic one. Susceptibility 
 was shown by those nations by accepting the influence of 
 Hellenism ; but was that not shown by the Arabians and the 
 Jews too, if it is still determined to estimate them apart 
 according to their descent? Of course, to you, seems "the 
 entire Alexandrian philosophy of religion to have value and 
 significance of a great curiosity only, particularly their most 
 prominent representative (Philo), with whom the figures of 
 the Old Testament have to act such queer roles upon Greek 
 boards and before a Platonic background." But, my dear 
 sir, is not the entire conception of Christianity as it is expressed 
 in the gospel of John with its Logos, the whole Greek patristic 
 with its symbolism, solely a fruit of that "great curiosity?'* 
 And now admit frankly, does not Schelling's and Hegel's 
 philosophy of religion, when it wants to join itself believingly 
 to the Christian facts, come very close to that "great curios- 
 ity?" You seem to have no idea of a speculative development 
 within Judaism after Alexandrianism. Perhaps this second 
 volume instructs you that it was never interrupted, perhaps 
 you may now become better acquainted with the influence 
 upon the speculative development of Christianity exerted by 
 the entire Jewish mental history, especially by several Spanish 
 thinkers, like Avicebron, Maimonides and others. You will 
 hardly say of those men that "they had grown beyond the 
 specific-Jewish world of conceptions and had then taken big 
 portions out of the contents of the modern Christian mind." 
 Yet you assert that of "the few names of modern culture 
 which are connected with the Old Testament." You surely 
 have Spinoza not in mind, you certainly do not count him 
 among the modern ones, although he furnished the most 
 prominent impulse to the modern conception. But of a few 
 more recent ones who may appear before your mind in that 
 connection, you say that they became what they were only 
 by having grown beyond the world of Jewish conception and 
 
392 Judaism and Its History 
 
 having taken big portions out of the contents of the modern 
 Christian mind. For the present, that growing beyond may 
 be left aside, but the expression "modern Christian'* which is 
 so much used in certain circles, deserves a serious word. 
 
 Of course, we have become accustomed, long ago, to meet 
 within Christendom with a combination of words which are 
 in most decided opposition to each other and which are yet 
 so put side by side or even compounded together as if the 
 contradiction were removed thereby, in the habit of seeking 
 a very peculiar profundity of thought in the welding together 
 of contradictory terms and conceptions and in the belief that 
 such profundity is formed in the lack of clearness and per- 
 spicuity (compare above, pp. 322, etc.). Used to such out- 
 of -joint compounds for centuries, the expression "modern 
 Christian" passes, although under other conditions its com- 
 ponent parts would quickly be recognized as completely dis- 
 solving each other. For, to speak plainly, the modern is not 
 Christian, and the Christian is not modern. Christianity has 
 closed up eighteen centuries ago, has kept away every further 
 movement, fought it at all times and still fights it to-day, not 
 only in its greater part, Catholicism, but also in the smaller 
 part of Christendom which has granted some room to historic 
 development. Protestantism, where in theological circles the 
 ruling so-called orthodoxy fights the modern as its worst 
 enemy. Modern culture leans in religion upon Jewish 
 monotheism and in science and arts on Hellenism, while it 
 either ignores or rejects the specifically Christian. Where 
 attempts appeared to really create something "modern 
 Christian," from Ezechiel's Vision by Raphael to Klopstock's 
 Messias, from the lucubrations of Jacob Boehme to Schelling*s 
 philosophy of revelation and the like, I am almost tempted 
 to use your expression, that we meet here "great curiosities." 
 I do not misjudge the estimable effort of the human mind to 
 reconcile the contradictions revealed thereby. And if no 
 healthy fruit resulted, thinking was practised and the mind 
 was exercised. The modern nations have called up the 
 modern mental development and Christianity has been 
 forced to yield, even if unwillingly, to its influence. That is 
 
Christianity and Culture 393 
 
 an effect exercised upon Christianity, and it is not the cause 
 thereof. To that general movement of culture, Judaism has 
 not closed its doors, it rather bas willingly given itself to it 
 and has taken part to the extent of its powers. It is therefore 
 wholly unjustifiable to say the Jews have "taken big portions 
 out of the contents of the modern Christian mind." They 
 have willingly given ear and mind to modern culture ; Christian 
 matter they have not discovered in it, and as far as found 
 therein, have decidedly kept away from themselves. 
 
 In general, there is a very dangerous error to which 
 Christian theology yields, and which produces very serious 
 confusion of thought. All earlier history it considers solely 
 as preparation for Christianity; all mental labor of Jews and 
 Greeks is only a preparatory school, education toward 
 Christianity ; it does not even hesitate to lay claim to all pithy 
 and juicy elements in them as Christian property. Every 
 new humane development since the origin of Christianity is 
 considered as its product. I have already acknowledged the 
 world-historic influence of Christianity; history can not be 
 erased unpunished. But want of careful consideration should 
 teach modesty. The first six centuries of Christianity are 
 times of mental decay, moving with impetuous rapidity; there 
 the effects of Christianity could be but latent. In the suc- 
 ceeding six, Islam stands at the head of national and mental 
 life; is that an aberration of the history of the world? Then 
 two centuries enter in which the mental movement within 
 Christendom is revealed by its trying to get rid of the fetters 
 which the existing Christian arrangements form, and ending 
 without result. The efforts may be considered as steps 
 leading toward a new plane of Christian culture, at any rate 
 the fight against the prevailing Christian ordinances pre- 
 dominated and that fight received its weapons from other 
 mental powers than Christianity. In the succeeding time 
 again, liberation does not proceed from Christian thought, 
 but from the newly resuscitated Hellenism; that shakes 
 violently at the Church, partly bursts it, and breaks its 
 omnipotence. Because now for three centuries the nations 
 with Christianity as their officially ruling religion stand at 
 
394 Judaism and Its History 
 
 the head of culture, just like the nations of Islam in former 
 centuries, Christianity claims itself entitled to proclaim all 
 modern culture as its work, without taking the earlier or con- 
 temporaneous factors into consideration, and brags on what 
 has been forced from it and accomplished in spite of its 
 resistance, as if it were its work. 
 
 In like manner you prove to me what I owe recent Chris- 
 tian authors. "What is said about the relation of revelation 
 and tradition that might, if Christianity is read instead of Juda- 
 ism, be inserted verbally into the famous part of Moehler's 
 apology." Of the first lecture, "The Nature of Religion," you 
 say: "It does not demand separate proof that that language 
 has not come out of the Talmud, that those ideas are not bor- 
 rowed from Rabbi Hillel or any other one of those teachers who 
 are praised by the author so much beyond all measure, . . . 
 but that both, thought and expression, were possible only 
 in a time in which at one side Schleiermacher had spoken on 
 the essence of religion, and on the other side there is the 
 endeavor to see the mental patterned in nature. ... At 
 any rate those are ideas which are and remain transcendent 
 to the genuine Jew." After quoting a few sentences from the 
 third lecture on revelation, you say with the same inexorabil- 
 ity: "There is hardly more particular proof required that 
 we can consider these sentences as Jewish only if the specula- 
 tive philosophy of the Hegelian school deserves that name. 
 We are out-and-out reminded of Strauss, if the sentence is 
 emphasized and elaborated with such great energy that the 
 Jewish people, not individuals, had been the vessels of that 
 revelation. . . . The idea does not pour its contents upon 
 individuals, but upon the totality. As the Greeks were the 
 people of artistic geniality, but not all artists, but as a nation 
 alone capable of producing great masters, so the Jews are the 
 people of revelation from which came the favored organs. 
 With such views the author steps still more decidedly beyond 
 into a circle of thought and presentation which has been 
 drawn neither by Jewish hands nor by Jewish instruments. 
 And when the author disregards sundry facts which disturb 
 his construction, and comforts with the sentence that the idea 
 
Appendix 395 
 
 IS also in Judaism mightier than the vessel in which it develops, 
 we may recall that already Herder wants to find the key to 
 the whole history of Judaism in this, that it had been a vessel 
 too narrow and confining for the contents poured into it, and 
 that it had perished through that contradiction in capability 
 and task. (Compare Allg. Ztg., page 5247.)" 
 
 Thus, according to you, they are everywhere "modern 
 and not rarely straight-out Christian ideas of which the 
 author lives and with which he operates," and I only remain 
 in this, "genuine Jew," that I have "by no means got over 
 the last remainder of the inveterate deep grudge against the 
 victorious daughter-religion.'* My dear sir, you might have 
 extended my borrowing much farther and would have been 
 sure of my complete approval. Continue and pronounce 
 that I have not myself made the German style used by me, 
 have not drawn it from the troubled waters of the Jewish- 
 German literature of the Middle Ages, have neither formed 
 myself only by Mendelsohn and his school nor by Boerne and 
 Heine who were of Jewish descent, still less exclusively by our 
 contemporaries Riesser, Berthold Auerbach, and others, but 
 that I have drawn eagerly from the German classics and have 
 endeavored to purify my esthetic sense by their artistic pre- 
 sentation as far as my capability reaches. But what does 
 that prove? Only so much, that average men as we are, 
 dear sir, have to accept the treasure of thought stored up by 
 the men of great genius and that it is meritorious if we work 
 it up, make it our own, and then know how to employ it 
 independently or even to enrich it. If I had stupidly passed 
 by those great treasures of the centuries, just reproach would 
 apply to me; on the contrary, it is queer that I am blamed for 
 being filled by the thoughts of all promoters, even of those 
 of the most diverging tendencies and for having in a particular 
 manner joined into an independent presentation the new 
 thoughts and mental turns with which they have corrected 
 and enlarged our view. 
 
 For as little as I want to deny the influence of the heroes 
 of our time upon my whole manner of thinking, as naturally 
 as that works upon everyone who does not live outside of his 
 
396 Judaism and Its History 
 
 time, just as little can it be proved in the external manner as 
 you attempt it, and just so much are you mistaken in your 
 endeavor to divest me of my borrowed ornamentation. 
 Thus, the newer Jewish literature has not waited with the 
 definition of the conception of its tradition for Moehler; 
 thirty years ago it has designated it as the fitting expression 
 for the uninterrupted development and its justification. 
 That conception has become the common property of the 
 whole recent Jewry, even of that portion calling itself con- 
 servative. You deny the truth of that conception, you call 
 Moehler's Catholicism "idealized, showily decked out with 
 ideas and moments of the consciousness of modern times.'* 
 — ^That you may fight out with Catholicism. Judaism has 
 at all times preserved its liberty, its unchecked mental move- 
 ment is therefore expressed in its whole formation. It is 
 therefore perfectly immaterial whether what I say about the 
 relation and tradition might be inserted verbally into Moeh- 
 ler's apology; it has grown on Jewish soil. If my definition 
 of tradition can be applied in any manner to Catholicism, it 
 is only natural, because it contains the conception the same 
 as Judaism, but it has naturally shaped itself in the latter, 
 it can not be said to have been borrowed of Moehler. The 
 "Protestant ideas and moments of the consciousness of 
 modern time" with which it is said to be patched up, belong 
 again to that favored side-by-side position of contradictions 
 which is so much less justifiable in the case because Protes- 
 tantism rejects tradition. 
 
 If you find in the religio-philosophical views, echoes of 
 Schleiermacher and Hegel, you sufficiently admit by the mere 
 joining of those two diverging tendencies — which with you 
 has become second nature — that I must have formed my 
 views independently. But as little as I hesitate to confess 
 that I have listened to the words of those masters and that, 
 without surrendering to them, I gladly accept from them 
 what I find correct thought, yet they are violently pulled in 
 at my touch upon the philosophy of religion. The problems 
 I treat of belong to thousands of years, Judaism has accom- 
 plished their solution in a very definite manner, the mounting 
 
Strauss 397 
 
 of those thoughts is modified, the influence of the progressing 
 mental development upon it is bound to show. And yet, even 
 the mounting is found in the works of the earlier, unprejudiced 
 minds only in different shape, sometimes not as clear and 
 sharply defined, and then again with surprising clearness and 
 brightest illumination. He that knows the works of the 
 ancient Jewish philosophers is often surprised at the agreement 
 in the conceptions down to the particular elaboration and 
 presentation, even if in the expressions of their time. — Yes, 
 you are out-and-out reminded of Strauss, and to clearly prove 
 the borrowing of the thought down to the very expression, 
 you attribute the following words to me: "The idea does not 
 pour its contents upon individuals, but upon the totality." 
 Well, that is the famous saying of Strauss in full, which was 
 to dethrone the single God-Man, in order to put the entire 
 God-Humanity into his place. And so I should of course 
 be caught with the goods on me — if I had said that or some- 
 thing like it. But thought and expression were far from me. 
 I did not and do not dispute the height of the individuals, 
 consequently not that of the individual prophets, but simply 
 emphasized that they, like other great men of genuis, whose 
 sublimity I do not attempt to drag down, arise only in a 
 nation which likewise has that even if latent undeveloped 
 disposition, that they are the center and focus of a widely 
 spread mental hearth. That thought lays no claim to 
 originality, even if its strong emphasis on the particular sub- 
 ject should not find approval everywhere. But it does not 
 touch the meaning of Strauss at all, just as Judaism has no 
 occasion for any dispute like that made by Strauss. That the 
 fullness of divine life is not poured into one individual, that 
 even "Moses and Aaron died on account of their own sins" 
 is something so well admitted in Judaism that it would be 
 ridiculous to go a-begging at Strauss' for that idea. 
 
 Christianity is so intergrown with that theory which 
 Strauss disputed, that just that sentence pressed out the most 
 violent screaming, so that Strauss for awhile felt like beating 
 a retreat on that point, instituted the "Cult of Genius" and 
 had the air of placing genius so high that it stands only and 
 
398 Judaism and Its History 
 
 alone, unattainable, as if elevated above all influences of its 
 time and nation. That is it which forced him against his 
 will in his new presentation: "For the People" to detach 
 special matters from the totality of history and to stamp 
 them as eternal, incomparable deeds. About that remainder 
 of an even very much weakened apologetic, I have not failed 
 to express my doubts. You as well as your *'Allgemeiner 
 Friend" have honored my verdict upon Renan and Strauss 
 with great praises and it is astonishing if "such a logical, 
 trenchant critic," a man who "in few sentences, so sharp and 
 fitting" — of course, "with sharp, Jewish sense," you say, 
 which I accept with thanks while others may refuse it at their 
 pleasure — has "scored up" two such important works and is 
 then again in other parts treated in a degrading manner with 
 proud superiority. In fact, that praise arises from a peculiar 
 position; it is, as the Talmudists say of Harbona, not the 
 product of love of Mordecai, but of hate of Haman. You 
 have real, malicious joy at seeing those acute critics shown 
 up in certain points as apologists, which is a just reproach to 
 them, as you admit from your point of view. But when I 
 enter into that weakly apologetic remainder, when I especially 
 reduce the estimation of "the rich collection of sentences or 
 maxims" to their proper modest measure, the "Allgemeine" 
 is quickly ready with the verdict that my criticism "shows 
 less of integrity than of hypercritical subtlety." You yourself 
 quote that verdict of your "Allgemeine friend" with pleasure, 
 yet pass by this " hypercritically subtle" dissection of mine 
 very quickly. You say only one thing: "Those synoptic 
 parallel passages of the new patch on the old garment must 
 undergo a rigorous examination, the result of which consists 
 only in that, what has been known long ago, every parable 
 limps." How queer! About every sentence and every 
 parable, innumerable long dissertations have been written, 
 which treat of every sentence and every word, of every 
 relation and every possible application with the greatest cir- 
 cumstantiality, and now my short discussions, because they 
 are incommodious to you, are to be all at once hypercritically 
 subtle, are to put up for the poor children of thought an 
 
Parables. Herder 399 
 
 unjustifiable, rigorous examination, because they do not 
 glorify? But it has no other result than, etc., etc. Is that 
 true? I prove that the whole sentence with its comparison 
 *'is very loosely, even contradictorily attached to the pre- 
 ceding reply," that it occupies a very different and later 
 attained point of view, and that it therefore "does not belong 
 to Jesus at all." All that you are silent about with innocent 
 air! If, as it seems, you know of nothing to say against it, 
 you have no right to shrug your shoulders in pity. Yet, you 
 pretend that the whole result consists in the proof that every 
 parable limps. Have you well considered what you express 
 by that? An admission as great as I can possibly demand. 
 Those are comparisons and parables, perhaps no worse, yet 
 no better, than hundreds of others, in no case "imperishable 
 sayings, for in them truths that are every day getting fresh 
 corroboration, are put into a form that plainly fits them and 
 is at the same time universally intelligible." I disputed that, 
 and proved how such claim and all pretension founded on it 
 are unjustifiable; you admit it, and say: "Well, the parables 
 are limping, as they all do.^^ By what right do you then 
 adopt the words of your "Allgemeine?" Yet do not believe 
 that I assert not to have learned anything from all recent 
 labors, whether done by Christians or Jews, and especially 
 not to have received anything from Strauss. I acknowledge 
 every instruction thankfully, and Strauss, as well as the mental 
 current of which he was and is the expression, has certainly 
 had its eft^ect on me. As there are defects clinging also to 
 favored minds, as I believe, I assert that in opposition to 
 one-sided conception the other view should be shown for 
 correction. With this, my respect for the great carriers of 
 culture remains, I gladly accept their mental impulse. Yet 
 in that external manner where you look for the effect, it is 
 not to be found. 
 
 It is yet worse with being reminded of Herder, Herder's 
 flashes of mind have illuminated us all, even if we have always 
 to be on guard against being wrapped into the often quickly 
 succeeding darkness. He would undertake a meritorious 
 work, who succeeds in fixing such a bright moment and 
 
400 Judaism and Its History 
 
 would elaborate the thought often thrown out by Herder, 
 loosely, without further connection. The idea which you 
 quote here, following your *'Allgemeine" has so little kinship 
 with my consideration of history, that in this connection it 
 has only now become known to me through both of you. 
 Therefore, I simply keep to your quotation. Judaism, 
 Herder says — according to you — contained in a too narrow 
 vessel a great idea which had to burst the same, in order to 
 be able to reveal itself in its fullness, and so should be added, 
 that happened by Christianity. As far as that figure is 
 applicable, it suffers from a certain obliquity which produces 
 a squint. The idea forms its vessel, its carriers; it transforms 
 them according to the needs of its growth; the hulls which 
 were formerly fitting, grow with it, become looser, and shape 
 themselves otherwise according to the inner ideal require- 
 ments. Vessel and idea are not in opposition, they are 
 correlates that bear the fate of mutability together. The 
 vessel breaks only when the idea has finished its life. As 
 long as the latter retains its vitality, the former is also pre- 
 served, only that it has to go with the other through the 
 entire process of formation. When Hellenism had exhausted 
 itself, the nation of the Greeks collapsed; when the national 
 energy of the Jews lost its vitality, the Jewish state ceased, 
 but therewith Judaism did not collapse, but it kept on forming 
 its vessel according to requirement. 
 
 The great chasm that separates us is not in that wherein 
 I agree as alleged, with the sentence of Herder quoted by 
 you, but in that wherein I differ with him. You and your 
 colleagues have to admit on the one side that the complete, 
 pure idea of religion was alive in Judaism, even if it neces- 
 sarily appeared in the form conditioned by the time, and yet, 
 on the other side, you would like to save for Christianity 
 something new, something hardly guessed at before, and you 
 can not do so in any other way than by again placing Judaism 
 low down, not only in the temporal expression of its appear- 
 ance but also in its essence and its deepest sentiment. In 
 that I find contradiction and injustice. You do not see with 
 materialism in the corporeal appearance, in the momentary 
 
Development 401 
 
 stage of the individual man, the complete exhaustion of his 
 being, you recognize that rather in the living, overtowering 
 spirit which impels him to higher development. Neither do 
 you find in the past of Christianity, nor even in its present, 
 the full formation of its soul, you rather assert a deeper 
 endeavor and its further formation from within to be hoped 
 for and you represent many a temporal expression thereof as 
 malformation not chargeable to it; you separate ideas from 
 appearance with all decision. But you stand up against 
 Judaism with flat sobriety and assert that it, which pro- 
 nounced its idea from the very beginning so often with such 
 decided emphasis, with such unclouded clearness, is so 
 imprisoned in the individual, temporal, limited expressions 
 that it cannot free itself from them, you shut your eyes 
 before the profundity and the compass of its spirit, and would 
 represent that also as narrowminded. That is the contra- 
 diction which clings to the entire confessional narrow theology. 
 
 You think: "Serious Christian science will, in view of 
 so many labors to throw light upon the genesis of the Hebrew 
 conception of God, only smilingly shake its head, if right here 
 in the second lecture, that conception of God drops in finished, 
 without all traces of national limitation, without any anthro- 
 pomorphic gift at its birth." I do not begrudge to the 
 seriousness of Christian science that smiling, I grant to it that 
 knowing shaking of the head, but if you would know my 
 "Urschrlft"* and my other labors not simply by their name, 
 but according to their actual contents, you might have even 
 caught me in a flagrant contradiction, as I have uncovered 
 those temporal expressions and the endeavors of later times 
 to cover up and blur those expressions leading to error, more 
 than any earlier author. Of course, then you could no longer 
 have smiled and shaken your head with "Christian serious- 
 ness" at my "Jewish learning." You would rather be 
 obliged to acknowledge that I do not clear the Jewish holy 
 scriptures of national and anthropomorphic presentation of 
 even the conception of God, just as no human expression can 
 at any time rise above it, just as it appears in naive times 
 
 * Urschrift & Ubersetzungen der Bibel. Geiger. Breslau 1857. 
 
402 Judaism and Its History 
 
 with the most natural harmlessness, but that yet the truth 
 in its inmost profundity shines through the defective expres- 
 sion, that the clearest light breaks through the slight clouding 
 and even gilds it. God is one, without form, is lord of heaven 
 and earth, is ruler of all fates — that is the conception pro- 
 claimed loud and unambiguous, even if it may be pronounced 
 in the most childlike expression. What you say of the 
 *'many labors to throw light upon the genesis of the Hebrew 
 conception of God" is but phrase. That conception of God 
 has its sole genesis in the secret depth of the Jewish spirit 
 and it is present as soon as that finds its expression, it is 
 undisputed in its entire literature, that mouthpiece of a 
 nation, it comes out "finished," if you so desire, from 
 that place of its birth, like the child, even if it does 
 grow up to manhood, it has not put itself together out of 
 component parts, blown together from the most various points. 
 You may call that "dropped in." I know of no genesis, God 
 Himself is its father and Israel its mother, and you can not 
 find for its parents, nor even nurses, wheresoever you may 
 look for them. It has had its history and has it yet farther 
 on, but it is independent according to its inmost essence, 
 always accepted for its development only what was homo- 
 geneous to that essence and what could not grow into it as 
 foreign substance, it owes at most the stimulation to more 
 rapid growth to external impulses. Neither is there any 
 occasion for you to smile, if all Parseean influence upon Jewish 
 consciousness is denied. Whatever opposed Jewish basic 
 disposition in Parseeism was decisively rejected with the 
 clearest feeling of the opposition, and what agreed with the 
 former, was as modification of its own not kept out, just as it 
 happened later with Hellenism and Islam. Even the Parseean 
 doctrine of the resurrection of the body could intrude only as 
 a complement of national longing, first as party shibboleth, 
 then as general comfort during national distress, and with 
 the existence of that as with the whole national tendency, 
 it stands and falls. 
 
 " It is something entirely new to you" if you read: "The 
 idea of Judaism is one embracing all mankind, but it needs 
 
Jewish Idea of God 403 
 
 at first an individual people for introduction into life," 
 "something entirely neWf the consciousness to encompass 
 mankind and to labor for it" forms the real germ of the Jewish 
 spirit which we, poorly informed, have thus far held to be 
 the expression of the toughest and most rigid particularism 
 and of unconquerable narrowmindedness." You were really 
 poorly informed, if that is something entirely new to you, if 
 you do not know one word of all biblical passages that an- 
 nounce it, from the account of the creation of man in the 
 image of God, from the promise to Abraham that in him and 
 in his seed all nations of the earth should be blessed, to the 
 announcement by all prophets, how all the world would be 
 united in knowledge of God and peace, down to the sayings 
 of all later teachers who under the heaviest pressure did not 
 part with that spirit nor lose that consciousness. Yes, the 
 Jewish spirit is tough, it does not bend nor break; rigid and 
 particularistic it was made only by the peculiar opposition. 
 Why is there such a great fight made by the other side, when 
 it is divesting itself of that particularism forced upon it? 
 You are greatly incensed if I say of animal sacrifice, that it 
 "had not sprouted from the root of Judaism," that it "had 
 been tolerated, and only tolerated;" you think, "ordinarily 
 the difference and prominence of Judaism over paganism is 
 placed in this, that its sacrificial service had originated from 
 a more deeply conceived need of expiation and reconciliation 
 than the pagan one," with that, you opine, I "might be 
 satisfied." It is just that, that I am not satisfied with the 
 crumbs thrown to us from the table of Christian theology, 
 that I investigate Judaism, not from the New Testament, but 
 from its own sources, and if I have therein prophets and poets 
 of psalms pronounce a unanimous verdict of rejection against 
 sacrificial service, if I observe its complete crowding out in 
 later history, if I see that many thinking leaders do not dive 
 into petty sacrificial symbolics, but step higher above the 
 whole conception of sacrifice, then I know that the ancient 
 sacrificial service was but tolerated. If you reply to me on 
 that point as well as in regard to the "law" lugged into the 
 dispute by you and the "Allgemeine," that I can not hide to 
 
404 Judaism and Its History 
 
 myself, that in the documents of the Old Testament sacrificial 
 service and priesthood are very often and for only tolerated 
 matters, much too often spoken of, your side is keeping with 
 improper preference to the Pentateuch, about the origin and 
 final completing of which criticism is as yet very defectively 
 informed. I have not hesitated to enter that difficult field 
 in learned works and shall try to further my contributions. 
 But where one should appear with sure results, the unfinished 
 must remain in the background. Here only this much! 
 The "law" is frequently a product of fights and compromises 
 with the external conditions, and those drag along through 
 the entire history of Judaism from its origin down to the 
 present ; yet its inmost energy arises always anew and pierces 
 even the bars of the compromise. The most instructive 
 example is furnished by the very history of priesthood in 
 Israel, an institution without which mankind does not believe 
 to be able to get along, which also in Judaism made efforts 
 to adapt itself to all formations and to rule them thereby, and 
 yet had to fall because in opposition to its essence. Yes, 
 "the traits of dissatisfaction with priesthood, which are com- 
 municated to us are," as I say, "nothing isolated;" and if 
 you point to Numbers 16 and 17, to represent "what the 
 relation of the Jewish spirit is to such traits of dissatisfaction," 
 you mistake the condition of the individual event that is 
 related for the Jewish spirit. In the same way, if you say 
 later, with fine irony, "If David has the enemies of God's 
 people sawed to pieces and baked in furnaces, it may be 
 comprehended by the economy of the materializing idea, and 
 if a curse is uttered against the Babylonian mothers (?) that 
 their children may be dashed against the stones, that is a 
 wise accommodation because the idea must not at once 
 appear too ideal, if it is to find admission." What does the 
 outburst of wrath of the individual concern me, even if his 
 name be David, or even if he be a poet whose song, pressed 
 out of him by deepest woe, has been received into the book 
 of psalms? That belongs to the essential differences between 
 Judaism and Christianity, that the former is not founded upon 
 a personality, but carries its base within itself. "Doubtless 
 
Personalities 405 
 
 thou art our Father," says the prophet, (Isai. 63:16) "though 
 Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not: 
 thou O Lord, art our Father, our Redeemer is thy name from 
 everlasting." With the finally achieved preponderance of 
 Judah, David, as founder of the Jewish dynasty, was highly 
 extolled, and yet, the traits from the old accounts, which in 
 part proceeded from the opposition, have not been wholly 
 obliterated from his history. That is a question of historic 
 criticism. In spite of many confessed defects, he and Solomon 
 were ideally glorified, David himself (as it reads in Ezechiel) 
 or "a son of David," as he was named in popular imagination, 
 was again to become the savior, the hero of the glorification. 
 Take no interest in the "son of David," divest David him- 
 self of his ornamentation, do just as you please. Only in the 
 interest of historic truth, a protest might appear from my side 
 against an unfair verdict, never in the interest of Judaism 
 which has not represented him or his son as a sinless saint. 
 This is and remains the kernel of the difference between 
 us. We do not base our truth upon persons and do not limit 
 it to determined times; you and your colleagues tie it to a 
 single personality which you elevate to the accomplished ideal 
 and make superhuman and close with his time as the time 
 of the realization of the ideal. By that you put yourself into 
 contradiction to history and yet would like to let history 
 testify for itself. You would like to make believe that you 
 alone had remained standing on the plan of the world's 
 history, you can not help getting angry if Judaism also makes 
 claim of not yet being dead as a factor in the world's history. 
 Then a remnant of those old faded phrases of Jew hatred 
 comes shuffling along. On such a road I do not follow you. 
 I am doing enough if I copy your sentences which you again 
 clamp to the " Allgemeine :" "Tough Judaism, indeed, 
 struggles and twists through all sorts of obstacles, and where 
 a new culture is produced, it grapples on, to work it up." 
 (What an outrage!) "But that it will find a new home any- 
 where" (who could join a clear thought to this?) "and enter 
 in really productive manner into the course of the mental 
 development of mankind and become merged with it" (that 
 
406 Judaism and Its History 
 
 it does not do you the small favor of perishing!) "that nobody 
 will hardly be able to assert in general." (Why screwed 
 down so carefully?) 
 
 But for what purpose should those phrases be quoted 
 farther? It is useless to enter into dispute about them. 
 Fleeting time calls for better use, There are still enough of 
 scientific problems that claim the force of every honestly 
 striving person. I shall always be glad to meet others, you 
 too, on that road; but that superior looking down upon the 
 Jew journeying alongside does not make the least impression 
 upon me, perhaps may only make me smile at the vain 
 pride. It is better if we move along together in mutual 
 esteem ! 
 
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