{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41042/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41042","id":"gutenberg_41042","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41042","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - European","Category: History - Religious","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Jewish philosophers -- Germany -- Biography","Judaism -- Europe, Eastern -- History -- 18th century","Maimon, Salomon, 1754-1800"],"text":"Produced by Charlene Taylor,Josephine Paolucci and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.\n(This file was produced from images generously made\navailable by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n_SOLOMON MAIMON._\n\n\n\n\nSOLOMON MAIMON:\n\n_AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY._\n\nTRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN, WITH ADDITIONS AND NOTES,\n\nBY\n\nJ. CLARK MURRAY, LL.D., F.R.S.C.,\n\n_Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy, M'Gill College, Montreal_.\n\n/$\nALEXANDER GARDNER,\nPAISLEY; AND 12 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.\nDAWSON BROTHERS, MONTREAL; CUPPLES AND HURD, BOSTON.\n\n1888.\n$/\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n/$\n                                                                    PAGE\n\nTRANSLATOR'S PREFACE,                                                ix.\n\nINTRODUCTION.--State of Poland in last century,                        1\n\nCHAPTER--\n\nI.--My Grandfather's Housekeeping,                                     6\n\nII.--First Reminiscences of Youth,                                    19\n\nIII.--Private Education and Independent Study,                        22\n\nIV.--Jewish Schools--The Joy of being released from them causes\n a Stiff Foot,                                                        32\n\nV.--My Family is driven into Misery, and an old Servant loses by his\n great Faithfulness a Christian Burial,                               38\n\nVI.--New Abode, New Misery--The Talmudist,                            42\n\nVII.--Joy endureth but a little while,                                49\n\nVIII.--The Pupil knows more than the Teacher--A theft _\u00e0 la\nRousseau_, which is discovered--\"The ungodly provideth, and\nthe righteous putteth it on,\"                                         54\n\nIX.--Love Affairs and Matrimonial Proposals--The\nSong of Solomon may be used in the service\nof Matchmaking--A new _Modus Lucrandi_--Smallpox,                     59\n\nX.--I become an object of Contention, get two Wives\nat once, and am kidnapped at last,                                    65\n\nXI.--My Marriage in my eleventh Year makes me the\nSlave of my Wife, and procures for me\nCudgellings from my Mother-in-Law--A\nGhost of Flesh and Blood,                                             74\n\nXII.--The Secrets of the Marriage State--Prince\nRadzivil, or what is not all allowed in\nPoland?                                                               79\n\nXIII.--Endeavour after mental Culture amid ceaseless\nStruggles with Misery of every Kind,                                  89\n\nXIV.--I study the Cabbalah, and become at last a\nPhysician,                                                            94\n\nXV.--A brief Exposition of the Jewish Religion from\nits Origin down to the most recent Times,                            111\n\nXVI.--Jewish Piety and Penances,                                     132\n\nXVII.--Friendship and Enthusiasm,                                    138\n\nXVIII.--The Life of a Family Tutor,                                  145\n\nXIX.--Also on a Secret Society, and therefore a Long\nChapter,                                                             151\n\nXX.--Continuation of the Former, and also Something\nabout Religious Mysteries,                                           176\n\nXXI.--Journeys to K\u00f6nigsberg, Stettin, and Berlin, for\nthe purpose of extending my Knowledge of\nMen,                                                                 187\n\nXXII.--Deepest Stage of Misery, and Deliverance,                     197\n\nXXIII.--Arrival in Berlin--Acquaintances--Mendelssohn--Desperate\nStudy of Metaphysics--Doubts--Lectures\non Locke and Adelung,                                                210\n\nXXIV.--Mendelssohn--A Chapter devoted to the Memory\nof a worthy Friend,                                                  221\n\nXXV.--My Aversion at first for Belles Lettres, and my\nsubsequent Conversion--Departure from Berlin--Sojourn\nin Hamburg--I drown myself in\nthe same way as a bad Actor shoots himself--An\nold Fool of a Woman falls in Love with\nme, but her Addresses are rejected,                                  234\n\nXXVI.--I return to Hamburg--A Lutheran Pastor\npronounces me to be a scabby Sheep, and\nunworthy of Admission into the Christian\nFold--I enter the Gymnasium, and frighten\nthe Chief Rabbi out of his Wits,                                     253\n\nXXVII.--Third journey to Berlin--Frustrated Plan of\nHebrew Authorship--Journey to Breslau--Divorce,                      265\n\nXXVIII.--Fourth journey to Berlin--Unfortunate\n circumstances--Help--Study of Kant's Writings--Characteristic\nof my own Works,                                                     279\n\nCONCLUDING CHAPTER,                                                  290\n$/\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.\n\n\nOne effect of _Daniel Deronda_ was to make known to a wide circle of\nreaders the vitality of Judaism as a system which still holds sway over\nthe mental as well as the external life of men. During the few years\nwhich have passed since the publication of that great fiction, the\ninterest in modern Judaism has continued to grow. It is but a short time\nsince the Western world was startled by the outbreak of an ancient\nfeeling against the Jews, which had been supposed to be long dead, at\nleast in some of the quarters where it was displayed. The popular\nliterature of the day also seems to indicate that the life of existing\nJewish communities is attracting a large share of attention in the\nreading world. The charming pictures which Emil Franzos has drawn of\nJewish life in the villages of Eastern Galicia, are not only popular in\nGermany, but some have been reproduced in a cheap form in New York to\nmeet the demand of German Americans, and some have also been translated\ninto English. The interest of English readers in the same subject is\nfurther shown by the recent translation of Kompert's _Scenes from the\nGhetto_, as well as by Mr. Cumberland's still more recent and powerful\nromance of _The Rabbi's Spell_. Among students of philosophical\nliterature a fresh interest has been awakened in the history of Jewish\nthought by the revival of the question in reference to the sources of\nSpinoza's philosophy. The affinities of this system with the familiar\ntendencies of Cartesian speculation have led the historians of\nphilosophy generally to represent the former as simply an inevitable\ndevelopment of the latter, while the affinities of Spinozism with the\nunfamiliar speculations of earlier Jewish thinkers have been almost\nentirely ignored.\n\nIn these circumstances a special interest may be felt in the life of one\nof the most remarkable Jews of modern times--a life which forms one of\nthe most extraordinary biographies in the history of literature.\n\nReaders of _Daniel Deronda_ may remember that, in his search among the\nJews of London for some one who could throw light on the sad story of\nMirah, the hero of the novel was attracted one day to a second-hand\nbook-shop, where his eye fell on \"that wonderful bit of\nautobiography--the life of the Polish Jew, Solomon Maimon.\" There are\nfew men so remarkable as Maimon who have met with so little recognition\nin English literature. Milman, in his _History of the Jews_, refers\nonce[1] to the autobiography as \"a curious and rare book,\" but\napparently he knew it only from some quotations in Franck's _La\nCabbale_. Among English metaphysical writers the only one who seems to\nhave studied the speculations of Maimon is Dr. Hodgson.[2] Even the new\nedition of the _Encyclopedia Britannica_ gives no place to Maimon among\nits biographies. And yet he is a prominent figure among the\nmetaphysicians of the Kantian period. Kuno Fischer, in his _Geschichte\nder Neueren Philosophie_,[3] devotes a whole chapter to the life of\nMaimon, while the contemporary critics of Kant are dismissed with little\nor no biographical notice. Fischer's sketch is just sufficient to whet\ncuriosity for fuller details; but, amid the dearth of rare literature in\nColonial libraries, I certainly never expected to come, in a Canadian\ntown, upon \"a curious and rare book\" of last century, which was known\neven to the learned Milman only through some quotations from a French\nauthor. One day, however, in Toronto, in order to while away an\nunoccupied hour, I was glancing, like Daniel Deronda, over the shelves\nof a second-hand bookseller, when I was attracted by a small volume, in\na good state of preservation, with \"S. Maimon's Lebensgeschichte\" on the\nback; and on taking it down I found it to be the veritable autobiography\nwhich I had been curious to see.\n\nSome account of the work was given in an article in the _British\nQuarterly Review_ for July, 1885; but I thought that a complete\ntranslation would probably be welcomed by a considerable circle of\nEnglish readers. The book has many attractions. If the development of\nthe inner life of man can ever be characterised as a romance, the\nbiography of Maimon may, in the truest sense, be said to be one of the\nmost romantic stories ever written. Perhaps no literature has preserved\na more interesting record of a spirit imprisoned within almost\ninsuperable barriers to culture, yet acquiring strength to burst all\nthese, and even to become an appreciable power in directing the course\nof speculation. The book, however, is much more than a biography; it\npossesses historical interest. It opens up what, to many English\nreaders, must be unknown efforts of human thought, unknown wanderings of\nthe religious life. The light, which it throws upon Judaism especially,\nboth in its speculative and in its practical aspects, is probably, in\nfact, unique. For the sketches, which the book contains, of Jewish\nspeculation and life were made at a time when the author had severed all\nvital connection with his own people and their creed; and they are\ntherefore drawn from a point of view outside of Jewish prejudices: but\nthey are penned by one who had been brought up to believe the divine\nmission of his people, as well as the divine authority of their\nreligion; and the criticism of his old faith is generally tempered by\nthat kindly sympathy, with which the heart is apt to be warmed on\nlingering over the companionships and other associations of earlier\nyears. Maimon's account of Jewish philosophy and theology acquires an\nadditional value from the fact, that he was caught in the full tide of\nthe Kantian movement, and he was thus in a position to point out\nunexpected affinities between many an old effort of speculative thought\namong the Jews and the philosophical tendencies of modern Christendom.\n\nSince writing the above-mentioned article for the _British Quarterly\nReview_, I learnt that a volume of _Maimoniana_ had been issued in 1813\nby an old friend of our philosopher, Dr. Wolff[4]; and through the\nkindness of a friend in Leipsic, I was enabled, after some delay, to\nprocure a copy. It is a small volume of 260 pages, and adds extremely\nlittle to our knowledge of Maimon. Nearly one third is simply a\ncondensation of the autobiography; and the remainder shows the author\nwith the opportunities indeed, but without the faculty, of a Boswell. He\nhas preserved but few of the felicities of Maimon's conversation; and\nwhat he has preserved loses a good deal of its flavour from his want of\nthe lively memory by which Boswell was able to reproduce the peculiar\nmannerisms of Johnson's talk. Still I have culled from the little\nvolume a few notes for illustration of the autobiography, and I am\nindebted to it for most of the materials of the concluding chapter. All\nmy additions are indicated by \"_Trans._\" appended.\n\nThe translation gives the whole of the biographical portion of the\noriginal. There are, however, ten chapters which I have omitted, as they\nare occupied entirely with a sketch of the great work of\nMaimonides,--the _Moreh Nebhochim_, or _Guide of the Perplexed_. Owing\nto their somewhat loose connection[5] with the rest, these chapters\nexcite just the faintest suspicion of \"padding;\" and at all events there\nis no demand for such a sketch in English now, when our literature has\nbeen recently enriched by Dr. Friedl\u00e4nder's careful translation of the\nwhole work.\n\nIn the performance of my task I have endeavoured to render the original\nas literally as was consistent with readable English. Only in one or\ntwo passages I have toned down the expression slightly to suit the\ntastes of our own time; but even in these I have not been unfaithful to\nthe author's meaning.\n\nIn the spelling of Hebrew and other foreign words I have never, without\nsome good reason, interfered with the original. But as Maimon is not\nalways consistent with himself in this respect, I have felt myself at\nliberty to disregard his usage by adopting such forms as are more\nfamiliar, or more likely to be intelligible, to an English reader.\n\n\n\n\nSOLOMON MAIMON.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThe inhabitants of Poland may be conveniently divided into six classes\nor orders:--the superior nobility, the inferior nobility, the\nhalf-noble, burghers, peasantry and Jews.\n\nThe superior nobility consist of the great landowners and administrators\nof the high offices of government. The inferior nobility also are\nallowed to own land and to fill any political office; but they are\nprevented from doing so by their poverty. The half-noble can neither own\nland, nor fill any high office in the State; and by this he is\ndistinguished from the genuine noble. Here and there, it is true, he\nowns land; but for that he is in some measure dependent on the lord of\nthe soil, within whose estate his property lies, inasmuch as he is\nrequired to pay him a yearly tribute.\n\nThe burghers are the most wretched of all the orders. They are not, 'tis\ntrue, in servitude to any man; they also enjoy certain privileges, and\nhave a jurisdiction of their own. But as they seldom own any property\nof value, or follow rightly any profession, they always remain in a\ncondition of pitiable poverty.\n\nThe last two orders, namely the peasantry and the Jews, are the most\nuseful in the country. The former occupy themselves with agriculture,\nraising cattle, keeping bees,--in short, with all the products of the\nsoil. The latter engage in trade, take up the professions and\nhandicrafts, become bakers, brewers, dealers in beer, brandy, mead and\nother articles. They are also the only persons who farm estates in towns\nand villages, except in the case of ecclesiastical properties, where the\nreverend gentlemen hold it a sin to put a Jew in a position to make a\nliving, and accordingly prefer to hand over their farms to the peasants.\nFor this they must suffer by their farms going to ruin, as the peasantry\nhave no aptitude for this sort of employment: but of course they choose\nrather to bear this with Christian resignation.\n\nIn consequence of the ignorance of most of the Polish landlords, the\noppression of the tenantry, and the utter want of economy, most of the\nfarms in Poland, at the end of last century,[6] had fallen into such a\nstate of decay, that a farm, which now yields about a thousand Polish\ngulden, was offered to a Jew for ten; but in consequence of still\ngreater ignorance and laziness, with all that advantage even he could\nnot make a living off the farm. An incident, however, occurred at this\ntime, which gave a new turn to affairs. Two brothers from Galicia, where\nthe Jews are much shrewder than in Lithuania, took, under the name of\n_Dersawzes_ or farmers-general, a lease of all the estates of Prince\nRadzivil, and, by means of a better industry as well as a better\neconomy, they not only raised the estates into a better condition, but\nalso enriched themselves in a short time.\n\nDisregarding the clamour of their brethren, they increased the rents,\nand enforced payment by the sub-lessees with the utmost stringency. They\nthemselves exercised a direct oversight of the farms; and wherever they\nfound a farmer who, instead of looking after his own interests and those\nof his landlord in the improvement of his farm by industry and economy,\nspent the whole day in idleness, or lay drunk about the stove, they soon\nbrought him to his senses, and roused him out of his indolence by a\nflogging. This procedure of course acquired for the farmers-general,\namong their own people, the name of tyrants.\n\nAll this, however, had a very good effect. The farmer, who at the term\nhad hitherto been unable to pay up his ten gulden of rent without\nrequiring to be sent to jail about it, now came under such a strong\ninducement to active exertion, that he was not only able to support a\nfamily off his farm, but was also able to pay, instead of ten, four or\nfive hundred, and sometimes even a thousand gulden.\n\nThe Jews, again, may be divided into three classes:--(1) the illiterate\nworking people, (2) those who make learning their profession, and (3)\nthose who merely devote themselves to learning without engaging in any\nremunerative occupation, being supported by the industrial class. To the\nsecond class belong the chief rabbis, preachers, judges, schoolmasters,\nand others of similar profession. The third class consists of those who,\nby their pre-eminent abilities and learning, attract the regard of the\nunlearned, are taken by these into their families, married to their\ndaughters, and maintained for some years with wife and children at their\nexpense. Afterwards, however, the wife is obliged to take upon herself\nthe maintenance of the saintly idler and the children (who are usually\nvery numerous); and for this, as is natural, she thinks a good deal of\nherself.\n\nThere is perhaps no country besides Poland, where religious freedom and\nreligious enmity are to be met with in equal degree. The Jews enjoy\nthere a perfectly free exercise of their religion and all other civil\nliberties; they have even a jurisdiction of their own. On the other\nhand, however, religious hatred goes so far, that the name of Jew has\nbecome an abomination; and this abhorrence, which had taken root in\nbarbarous times, continued to show its effects till about thirteen years\nago. But this apparent contradiction may be very easily removed, if it\nis considered that the religious and civil liberty, conceded to the Jews\nin Poland, has not its source in any respect for the universal rights\nof mankind, while, on the other hand, the religious hatred and\npersecution are by no means the result of a wise policy which seeks to\nremove out of the way whatever is injurious to morality and the welfare\nof the State. Both phenomena are results of the political ignorance and\ntorpor prevalent in the country. With all their defects the Jews are\nalmost the only useful inhabitants of the country, and therefore the\nPolish people found themselves obliged, for the satisfaction of their\nown wants, to grant all possible liberties to the Jews; but, on the\nother hand, their moral ignorance and stupor could not fail to produce\nreligious hatred and persecution.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nMy Grandfather's Housekeeping.\n\n\nMy grandfather, Heimann Joseph, was farmer of some villages in the\nneighbourhood of the town of Mir, in the territory of Prince\nRadzivil.[7] He selected for his residence one of these villages on the\nriver Niemen, called Sukoviborg, where, besides a few peasants' plots,\nthere was a water-mill, a small harbour, and a warehouse for the use of\nthe vessels that come from K\u00f6nigsberg, in Prussia. All this, along with\na bridge behind the village, and on the other side a drawbridge on the\nriver Niemen, belonged to the farm, which was then worth about a\nthousand gulden, and formed my grandfather's _Chasakah_.[8] This farm,\non account of the warehouse and the great traffic, was very lucrative.\nWith sufficient industry and economical skill, _si mens non laeva\nfuisset_, my grandfather should have been able, not only to support his\nfamily, but even to gather wealth. The bad constitution of the country,\nhowever, and his own want of all the acquirements necessary for\nutilising the land, placed extraordinary obstacles in his way.\n\nMy grandfather settled his brothers as tenants under him in the villages\nbelonging to his farm. These not only lived continually with my\ngrandfather under the pretence of assisting him in his manifold\noccupations, but in addition to this they would not pay their rents at\nthe end of the year.\n\nThe buildings, belonging to my grandfather's farm, had fallen into decay\nfrom age, and required therefore to be repaired. The harbour and the\nbridge also had become dilapidated. In accordance with the terms of the\nlease the landlord was to repair everything, and put it in a condition\nfit for use. But, like all the Polish magnates, he resided permanently\nin Warsaw, and could therefore give no attention to the improvement of\nhis estates. His stewards had for their principal object the improvement\nrather of their own condition than of their landlord's property. They\noppressed the farmers with all sorts of exactions, they neglected the\norders given for the improvement of the farms, and the moneys intended\nfor this purpose they applied to their own use. My grandfather indeed\nmade representations on the subject to the stewards day after day, and\nassured them that it was impossible for him to pay his rent, if\neverything was not put into proper condition according to the lease. All\nthis, however, was of no avail. He always received promises indeed, but\nthe promises were never fulfilled. The result was not only the ruin of\nthe farm, but several other evils arising from that.\n\nAs already mentioned, there was a large traffic at this place; and as\nthe bridges were in a bad state, it happened not infrequently that these\nbroke down just when a Polish nobleman with his rich train was passing,\nand horse and rider were plunged into the swamp. The poor farmer was\nthen dragged to the bridge, where he was laid down and flogged till it\nwas thought that sufficient revenge had been taken.\n\nMy grandfather therefore did all in his power to guard against this evil\nin the future. For this purpose he stationed one of his people to keep\nwatch at the bridge, so that, if any noble were passing, and an accident\nof this sort should happen, the sentinel might bring word to the house\nas quickly as possible, and the whole family might thus have time to\ntake refuge in the neighbouring wood. Every one thereupon ran in terror\nout of the house, and not infrequently they were all obliged to remain\nthe whole night in the open air, till one after another ventured to\napproach the house.\n\nThis sort of life lasted for some generations. My father used to tell of\nan incident of this sort, which happened when he was still a boy of\nabout eight years. The whole family had fled to their usual retreat. But\nmy father, who knew nothing of what had happened, and was playing at the\nback of the stove, stayed behind alone. When the angry lord came into\nthe house with his suite, and found nobody on whom he could wreak his\nvengeance, he ordered every corner of the house to be searched, when my\nfather was found at the back of the stove. The nobleman asked him if he\nwould drink brandy, and, on the boy refusing, shouted: \"If you will not\ndrink brandy, you shall drink water.\" At the same time he ordered a\nbucketful of water to be brought, and forced my father, by lashes with\nhis whip, to drink it out. Naturally this treatment brought on a quartan\nfever, which lasted nearly a whole year, and completely undermined his\nhealth.\n\nA similar incident took place when I was a child of three years. Every\none ran out of the house; and the housemaid, who carried me in her arms,\nhurried forth. But as the servants of the nobleman who had arrived ran\nafter her, she quickened her steps, and in her extreme haste let me fall\nfrom her arms. There I lay whimpering on the skirt of the wood, till\nfortunately a peasant passing by lifted me up and took me home with him.\nIt was only after everything had become quiet again, and the family had\nreturned to the house, that the maid remembered having lost me in the\nflight, when she began to lament and wring her hands. They sought me\neverywhere, but could not find me, till at last the peasant came from\nthe village and restored me to my parents.\n\nIt was not merely the terror and consternation, into which we used to be\nthrown on the occasion of such a flight; to this was added the\nplundering of the house when deprived of its inhabitants. Beer, brandy,\nand mead were drunk at pleasure; the spirit of revenge even went so far\nat times, that the casks were left to run out; corn and fowls were\ncarried off; and so forth.\n\nHad my grandfather, instead of seeking justice from a more powerful\nlitigant, rather borne the injustice, and built the bridge in question\nat his own expense, he would have been able to avoid all these evils. He\nappealed, however, persistently to the terms of his lease, and the\nsteward made sport of his misery.\n\nAnd now something about my grandfather's domestic economy. The manner of\nlife, which he led in his house, was quite simple. The annual produce of\nthe arable lands, pasture-lands, and kitchen-gardens, belonging to the\nfarm, was sufficient, not only for the wants of his own family, but also\nfor brewing and distilling. He could even, besides, sell a quantity of\ngrain and hay. His bee-hives were sufficient for the brewing of mead. He\nhad also a large number of cattle.\n\nThe principal food consisted of a poor kind of corn-bread mixed with\nbran, of articles made of meal and milk, and of the produce of the\ngarden, seldom of flesh-meat. The clothing was made of poor linen and\ncoarse stuff. Only the women made in these matters a slight exception,\nand my father also, who was a scholar, required a different sort of\nlife.\n\nHospitality was here carried very far. The Jews in this neighbourhood\nare continually moving about from place to place; and as there was a\ngreat traffic at our village, they were frequently passing through it,\nand of course they had always to stop at my grandfather's inn. Every\nJewish traveller was met at the door with a glass of spirits; one hand\nmaking the _salaam_,[9] while the other reached the glass. He then had\nto wash his hands, and seat himself at the table which remained\nconstantly covered.\n\nThe support of a numerous family along with this hospitality would have\nhad no serious effect in impairing my grandfather's circumstances, if at\nthe same time he had introduced a better economy in his house. This,\nhowever, was the source of his misfortune.\n\nMy grandfather was in trifles almost too economical, and neglected\ntherefore matters of the greatest importance. He looked upon it, for\nexample, as extravagance to burn wax or tallow candles; their place had\nto be supplied with thin strips of resinous pine, one end of which was\nstuck into the chinks of the wall, while the other was lit. Not\nunfrequently by this means fires were occasioned, and much damage\ncaused, in comparison with which the cost of candles was not worth\ntaking into consideration.\n\nThe apartment, in which beer, spirits, mead, herrings, salt and other\narticles were kept for the daily account of the inn, had no windows,\nbut merely apertures, through which it received light. Naturally this\noften tempted the sailors and carriers who put up at the inn to climb\ninto the apartment, and make themselves drunk gratuitously with spirits\nand mead. What was still worse, these carousing heroes, from fear of\nbeing caught in the act, often took to flight, on hearing the slightest\nnoise, without waiting to put in the spigot, sprang out at the holes by\nwhich they had come in, and let the liquor run as long as it might. In\nthis way sometimes whole casks of spirits and mead ran out.\n\nThe barns had no proper locks, but were shut merely with wooden bolts.\nAny one therefore, especially as the barns were at some distance from\nthe dwelling-house, could take from them at pleasure, and even carry off\nwhole waggonloads of grain. The sheepfold had, all over, holes, by which\nwolves (the forest being quite near) were able to slink in, and worry\nthe sheep at their convenience.\n\nThe cows came very often from the pasture with empty udders. According\nto the superstition which prevailed there, it was said in such cases,\nthat the milk had been taken from them by witchcraft,--a misfortune,\nagainst which it was supposed that nothing could be done.\n\nMy grandmother, a good simple woman, when tired with her household\noccupations, lay down often in her clothes to sleep by the stove, and\nhad all her pockets full of money, without knowing how much. Of this\nthe housemaid took advantage, and emptied the pockets of half their\ncontents. Nevertheless my grandmother seldom perceived the want, if only\nthe girl did not play too clumsy a trick.\n\nAll these evils could easily have been avoided of course by repairing\nthe buildings, the windows, the window-shutters and locks, by proper\noversight of the manifold lucrative occupations connected with the farm,\nas also by keeping an exact account of receipts and disbursements. But\nthis was never thought of. On the other hand, if my father, who was a\nscholar, and educated partly in town, ordered for himself a rabbinical\nsuit, for which a finer stuff was required than that in common use, my\ngrandfather did not fail to give him a long and severe lecture on the\nvanity of the world. \"Our forefathers,\" he used to say, \"knew nothing of\nthese new-fashioned costumes, and yet were devout people. You must have\na coat of striped woolen cloth,[10] you must have leather hose, with\nbuttons even, and everything on the same scale. You will bring me to\nbeggary at last; I shall be thrown into prison on your account. Ay me,\npoor unfortunate man! What is to become of me?\"\n\nMy father then appealed to the rights and privileges of the profession\nof a scholar, and showed moreover that, in a well-arranged system of\neconomy, it does not so much matter whether you live somewhat better or\nworse, and that even my grandfather's misfortunes arose, not from\nextravagant consumption in housekeeping, but rather from the fact that\nhe allowed himself by his remissness to be plundered by others. All this\nhowever was of no avail with my grandfather. He could not tolerate\ninnovations. Everything therefore had to be left as it was.\n\nMy grandfather was held in the place of his abode to be a rich man,\nwhich he could really have been if he had known how to make use of his\nopportunities; and on this account he was envied and hated by all, even\nby his own family, he was abandoned by his landlord, he was oppressed in\nevery possible way by the steward, and cheated and robbed by his own\ndomestics as well as by strangers. In short, he was _the poorest rich\nman_ in the world.\n\nIn addition to all this there were still greater misfortunes, which I\ncannot here pass over wholly in silence. The pope, that is, the Russian\nclergyman in this village, was a dull ignorant blockhead, who had\nscarcely learned to read and write. He spent most of his time at the\ninn, where he drank spirits with his boorish parishioners, and let his\nliquor always be put down to his account, without ever a thought of\npaying his score. My grandfather at last became tired of this, and made\nup his mind to give him nothing more upon credit. The fellow naturally\ntook this very ill, and therefore resolved upon revenge.\n\nFor this he found at length a means, at which indeed humanity shudders,\nbut of which the Catholic Christians in Poland were wont to make use\nvery often at that time. This was to charge my grandfather with the\nmurder of a Christian, and thus bring him to the gallows. This was done\nin the following way: A beaver-trapper, who sojourned constantly in this\nneighbourhood to catch beavers on the Niemen, was accustomed at times to\ntrade in these animals with my grandfather; and this had to be done\nsecretly, for the beaver is game preserved, and all that are taken must\nbe delivered at the manor. The trapper came once about midnight, knocked\nand asked for my grandfather. He showed him a bag which was pretty heavy\nto lift, and said to him with a mysterious air, \"I have brought you a\ngood big fellow here.\" My grandfather was going to strike a light, to\nexamine the beaver, and come to terms about it with the peasant. He\nhowever said, that this was unnecessary, that my grandfather might take\nthe beaver at any rate, and that they would be sure to agree about it\nafterwards. My grandfather, who had no suspicion of evil, took the bag\njust as it was, laid it aside, and betook himself again to rest.\nScarcely, however, had he fallen asleep again, when he was roused a\nsecond time with a loud noise of knocking.\n\nIt was the clergyman with some boors from the village, who immediately\nbegan to make search all over in the house. They found the bag, and my\ngrandfather already trembled for the issue, because he believed nothing\nelse than that he had been betrayed at the manor on account of his\nsecret trade in beavers, and he could not deny the fact. But how great\nwas his horror, when the bag was opened, and, instead of a beaver, there\nwas found a corpse!\n\nMy grandfather was bound with his hands behind his back, his feet were\nput into stocks, he was thrown into a waggon, and brought to the town of\nMir, where he was given over to the criminal court. He was made fast in\nchains, and put into a dark prison.\n\nAt the trial my grandfather stood upon his innocence, related the events\nexactly as they had happened, and, as was reasonable, demanded that the\nbeaver-trapper should be examined too. He, however, was nowhere to be\nfound, was already over the hills and far away. He was sought\neverywhere. But the blood-thirsty judge of the criminal court, to whom\nthe time became tedious, ordered my grandfather three times in\nsuccession to be brought to torture. He, however, continued steadfast in\nhis assertion.\n\nAt last the hero of the beavers was found. He was examined; and as he\nstraightway denied the whole affair, he also was put to the test of\ntorture. Thereupon at once he blabbed the whole story. He declared that,\nsome time before, he had found this dead body in the water, and was\ngoing to bring it to the parsonage for burial. The parson however had\nsaid to him, \"There is plenty of time for the burial. You know that the\nJews are a hardened race, and are therefore damned to all eternity. They\ncrucified our Lord Jesus Christ, and even yet they seek Christian blood,\nif only they can get hold of it for their passover, which is instituted\nas a sign of their triumph. They use it for their passover-cake. You\nwill therefore do a meritorious work, if you can smuggle this dead body\ninto the house of the damned Jew of a farmer. You must of course clear\nout, but your trade you can drive anywhere.\"\n\nOn this confession the fellow was whipped out of the place, and my\ngrandfather set free; but the pope remained pope.\n\nFor an everlasting memorial of this deliverance of my grandfather from\ndeath, my father composed in Hebrew a sort of epopee, in which the whole\nevent was narrated, and the goodness of God was sung. It was also made a\nlaw, that the day of his deliverance should be celebrated in the family\nevery year, when this poem should be recited in the same way as the Book\nof Esther at the festival of Haman.[11]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nFirst Reminiscences of Youth.\n\n\nIn this manner my grandfather lived for many years in the place where\nhis forefathers had dwelt; his farm had become, as it were, a property\nof the family. By the Jewish ceremonial law the _Chazakah_, that is, the\nright of property in an estate, is acquired by three years' possession;\nand the right is respected even by Christians in this neighbourhood. In\nvirtue of this law no other Jew could try to get possession of the farm\nby a _Hosaphah_, that is, an offer of higher rent, if he would not bring\ndown upon himself the Jewish excommunication. Although the possession of\nthe farm was accompanied with many hardships and even oppressions, yet\nit was from another point of view very lucrative. My grandfather could\nnot only live as a well-to-do man, but also provide richly for his\nchildren.\n\nHis three daughters were well dowered, and married to excellent men. His\ntwo sons, my uncle Moses and my father Joshua, were married likewise;\nand when he became old, and enfeebled by the hardships to which he had\nbeen exposed, he gave over the management of the house to his two sons\nin common. These were of different temperaments and inclinations, my\nuncle Moses being of strong bodily constitution, but inferior\nintelligence, while my father was the opposite; and consequently they\ncould not work together well. My grandfather therefore gave over to my\nuncle another village, and kept my father by himself, although from his\nprofession as a scholar my father was not particularly adapted for the\noccupations of household-management. He merely kept accounts, made\ncontracts, conducted processes at law, and attended to other matters of\nthe same sort. My mother, on the other hand, was a very lively woman,\nwell disposed to all sorts of occupations. She was small of stature, and\nat that time still very young.\n\nAn anecdote I cannot avoid touching on here, because it is the earliest\nreminiscence from the years of my youth. I was about three years old at\nthe time. The merchants, who put up constantly at the place, and\nespecially the _shaffers_, that is, the nobles who undertook the\nnavigation, the purchase and delivery of goods, for the higher nobility,\nwere extremely fond of me on account of my liveliness, and made all\nsorts of fun with me. These merry gentlemen gave my mother, on account\nof her small stature and liveliness, the nickname of _Kuza_, that is, a\nyoung filly.[12] As I heard them often call her by this name, and knew\nnothing of its meaning, I also called her _Mama Kuza_. My mother rebuked\nme for this, and said, \"God punishes any one who calls his mother _Mama\nKuza_.\" One of these _Shaffers_, Herr Piliezki, used every day to take\ntea in our house, and enticed me to his side by giving me at times a bit\nof sugar. One morning while he was drinking his tea, when I had placed\nmyself in the usual position for receiving the sugar, he said he would\ngive it to me only on condition that I should say _Mama Kuza_. Now as my\nmother was present, I refused to do it. He made a sign therefore to my\nmother to go into an adjoining room. As soon as she had shut the door, I\nwent to him and whispered into his ear, _Mama Kuza_. He insisted however\nthat I should say it out loud, and promised to give me a piece of sugar\nfor each time that it was spoken. Accordingly I said, \"Herr Piliezki\nwants me to say _Mama Kuza_; but I will not say _Mama Kuza_, because God\npunishes any one who says _Mama Kuza_.\" Thereupon I got my three pieces\nof sugar.\n\nMy father introduced into the house a more refined mode of life,\nespecially as he traded with K\u00f6nigsberg in Prussia, where he procured\nall sorts of pretty and useful articles. He provided himself with tin\nand brass utensils; we began to have better meals, to wear finer\nclothes, than before; I was even clad in damask.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nPrivate Education and Independent Study.\n\n\nIn my sixth year my father began to read the Bible with me. \"In the\nbeginning God created the heaven and the earth.\" Here I interrupted my\nfather, and asked, \"But, papa, who created God?\"\n\n\"God was not created by any one,\" replied my father; \"He existed from\nall eternity.\"\n\n\"Did he exist ten years ago?\" I asked again.\n\n\"O yes,\" my father said, \"He existed even a hundred years ago.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps,\" I continued, \"God is already a thousand years old?\"\n\n\"Silence! God was eternal.\"\n\n\"But,\" I insisted, \"He must surely have been born at some time.\"\n\n\"You little fool,\" said my father, \"No! He was for ever and ever and\never.\"\n\nWith this answer I was not indeed satisfied; but I thought \"Surely papa\nmust know better than I, and with that I must therefore be content.\"\n\nThis mode of representation is very natural in early youth, when the\nunderstanding is still undeveloped, while the imagination is in full\nbloom. The understanding seeks merely to grasp, the imagination to grasp\nall round.[13] That is to say, the understanding seeks to make the\norigin of an object conceivable, without considering, whether the\nobject, whose origin is known, can also be actually represented by us or\nnot. The imagination, on the other hand, seeks to gather into a complete\nimage something, the origin of which is to us unknown. Thus, for\nexample, an infinite series of numbers, which progresses according to a\ndefinite law, is for the understanding an object, to which by this law\ndefinite qualities are attached, and an object just as good as a finite\nseries, which progresses according to the same law. For the imagination,\non the other hand, the latter indeed is an object; but not the former,\nbecause it cannot grasp the former as a completed whole.\n\nA long time afterwards, when I was staying in Breslau, this\nconsideration suggested to me a thought, which I expressed in an essay\nthat I laid before Professor Garve, and which, though at the time I knew\nnothing of the Kantian philosophy, still constitutes its foundation. I\nexplained this somewhat in the following way:--The metaphysicians\nnecessarily fall into self-contradiction. According to the confession\nof Leibnitz himself, who in this appeals to the experiment of Archimedes\nwith the lever, the Law of Sufficient Reason or Causality is a principle\nof experience. Now, it is quite true that in experience everything is\nfound to have a cause; but for the very reason, that _every_ thing has a\ncause, nothing can be met with in experience which is a _first_ cause,\nthat is, a cause which has no cause to itself. How then can the\nmetaphysicians infer from this law the existence of a first cause?\n\nAfterwards I found this objection more particularly developed in the\nKantian philosophy, where it is shown that the Category of Cause, or the\nform of hypothetical judgments used in reference to the objects of\nnature, by which their relation to one another is determined _a priori_,\ncan be applied only to objects of experience through an _a priori_\nschema. The first cause, which implies a complete infinite series of\ncauses, and therefore in fact a contradiction, since the infinite can\nnever be complete, is not an object of the understanding, but an idea of\nreason, or, according to my theory, a fiction of the imagination, which,\nnot content with the mere knowledge of the law, seeks to gather the\nmultiplicity, which is subject to the law, into an image, though in\nopposition to the law itself.\n\nOn another occasion I read in the Bible the story of Jacob and Esau; and\nin this connection my father quoted the passage from the Talmud, where\nit is said, \"Jacob and Esau divided between them all the blessings of\nthe world. Esau chose the blessings of this life, Jacob, on the\ncontrary, those of the future life; and since we are descended from\nJacob, we must give up all claim to temporal blessings.\" On this I said\nwith indignation, \"Jacob should not have been a fool; he should rather\nhave chosen the blessings of this world.\" Unfortunately I got for\nanswer, \"You ungodly rascal!\" and a box on the ear. This did not of\ncourse remove my doubt, but it brought me to silence at least.\n\nThe Prince Radzivil, who was a great lover of the chase, came one day\nwith his whole court to hunt in the neighbourhood of our village. Among\nthe party was his daughter who afterwards married Prince Rawuzki. The\nyoung princess, in order to enjoy rest at noon, betook herself with the\nladies of her court, the servants in waiting and the lackeys, to the\nvery room, where as a boy I was sitting behind the stove. I was struck\nwith astonishment at the magnificence and splendour of the court, gazed\nwith rapture at the beauty of the persons and at the dresses with their\ntrimmings of gold and silver lace; I could not satisfy my eyes with the\nsight. My father came just as I was out of myself with joy, and had\nbroken into the words, \"O how beautiful!\" In order to calm me, and at\nthe same time to confirm me in the principles of our faith, he whispered\ninto my ear, \"Little fool, in the other world the _duksel_ will kindle\nthe _pezsure_ for us,\" which means, In the future life the princess will\nkindle the stove for us. No one can conceive the sort of feeling which\nthis statement produced in me. On the one hand, I believed my father,\nand was very glad about this future happiness in store for us; but I\nfelt at the same time pity for the poor princess who was going to be\ndoomed to such a degrading service. On the other hand, I could not get\nit into my head, that this beautiful rich princess in this splendid\ndress should ever make a fire for a poor Jew. I was thrown into the\ngreatest perplexity on the subject, till some game drove these thoughts\nout of my head.\n\nI had from childhood a great inclination and talent for drawing. True, I\nhad in my father's house never a chance of seeing a work of art, but I\nfound on the title-page of some Hebrew books woodcuts of foliage, birds\nand so forth. I felt great pleasure in these woodcuts, and made an\neffort to imitate them with a bit of chalk or charcoal. What however\nstrengthened this inclination in me still more was a Hebrew book of\nfables, in which the personages who play their part in the fables--the\nanimals--were represented in such woodcuts. I copied all the figures\nwith the greatest exactness. My father admired indeed my skill in this,\nbut rebuked me at the same time in these words, \"You want to become a\npainter? You are to study the Talmud, and become a rabbi. He who\nunderstands the Talmud, understands everything.\"\n\nThis desire and faculty for painting went with me so far, that when my\nfather had settled in H----, where there was a manor-house with some\nbeautifully tapestried rooms, which were constantly unoccupied because\nthe landlord resided elsewhere, and very seldom visited the place, I\nused to steal away from home whenever I could, to copy the figures on\nthe tapestries. I was found once in mid-winter half-frozen, standing\nbefore the wall, holding the paper in one hand (for there was no\nfurniture in this apartment), and with the other hand copying the\nfigures off the wall. Yet I judge of myself at present, that, if I had\nkept to it, I should have become a _great_, but not an _exact_, painter,\nthat is to say, I sketched with ease the main features of a picture, but\nhad not the patience to work it out in detail.\n\nMy father had in his study a cupboard containing books. He had forbidden\nme indeed to read any books but the Talmud. This, however, was of no\navail: as he was occupied the most of his time with household affairs, I\ntook advantage of the opportunity thus afforded. Under the impulse of\ncuriosity I made a raid upon the cupboard and glanced over all the\nbooks. The result was, that, as I had already a fair knowledge of\nHebrew, I found more pleasure in some of these books than in the Talmud.\nAnd this result was surely natural. Take the subjects of the Talmud,\nwhich, with the exception of those relating to jurisprudence, are dry\nand mostly unintelligible to a child--the laws of sacrifice, of\npurification, of forbidden meats, of feasts, and so forth--in which the\noddest rabbinical conceits are elaborated through many volumes with the\nfinest dialectic, and the most absurd questions are discussed with the\nhighest efforts of intellectual power; for example, how many white hairs\nmay a red cow have, and yet remain a _red_ cow; what sorts of scabs\nrequire this or that sort of purification; whether a louse or a flea may\nbe killed on the Sabbath,--the first being allowed, while the second is\na deadly sin;--whether the slaughter of an animal ought to be executed\nat the neck or the tail; whether the highpriest put on his shirt or his\nhose first; whether the _Jabam_, that is, the brother of a man who died\nchildless, being required by law to marry the widow, is relieved from\nhis obligation if he falls off a roof and sticks in the mire. _Ohe jam\nsatis est!_ Compare these glorious disputations, which are served up to\nyoung people and forced on them even to disgust, with history, in which\nnatural events are related in an instructive and agreeable manner, with\na knowledge of the world's structure, by which the outlook into nature\nis widened, and the vast whole is brought into a well-ordered system;\nsurely my preference will be justified.\n\nThe most valuable books in the collection were four. There was a Hebrew\nchronicle under the title of _Zemach David_,[14] written by a sensible\nchief rabbi in Prague, named Rabbi David Gans. He was also the author\nof the astronomical book spoken of in the sequel, and he had had the\nhonour of being acquainted with Tycho Brahe, and of making astronomical\nobservations with him in the Observatory at Copenhagen. There were\nbesides, a Josephus, which was evidently garbled, and a History of the\nPersecutions of the Jews in Spain. But what attracted me most powerfully\nwas an astronomical work. In this work a new world was opened to me, and\nI gave myself up to the study with the greatest diligence. Think of a\nchild about seven years of age, in my position, with an astronomical\nwork thrown in his way, and exciting his interest. I had never seen or\nheard anything of the first elements of mathematics, and I had no one to\ngive me any direction in the study: for it is needless to say, that to\nmy father I dared not even let my curiosity in the matter be known, and,\napart from that, he was not in a position to give me any information on\nthe subject. How must the spirit of a child, thirsting for knowledge,\nhave been inflamed by such a discovery! This the result will show.\n\nAs I was still a child, and the beds in my father's house were few, I\nwas allowed to sleep with my old grandmother, whose bed stood in the\nabove-mentioned study. As I was obliged during the day to occupy myself\nsolely with the study of the Talmud, and durst not take another book in\nmy hand, I devoted the evenings to my astronomical inquiries.\nAccordingly after my grandmother had gone to bed, I put some fresh wood\non the fire, made for the cupboard, and took out my beloved astronomical\nbook. My grandmother indeed scolded me, because it was too cold for the\nold lady to lie alone in bed; but I did not trouble myself about that,\nand continued my study till the fire was burnt out.\n\nAfter I had carried this on for some evenings, I came to the description\nof the celestial sphere and its imaginary circles, designed for the\nexplanation of astronomical phenomena. This was represented in the book\nby a single figure, in connection with which the author gave the reader\nthe good advice, that, since the manifold circles could not be\nrepresented in a plane figure except by straight lines, he should, for\nthe sake of rendering them more clearly intelligible, make for himself\neither an ordinary globe or an armillary sphere. I therefore formed the\nresolution to make such a sphere out of twisted rods; and after I had\nfinished this work, I was in a position to understand the whole book.\nBut as I had to take care lest my father should find out how I had been\noccupied, I always hid my armillary sphere in a corner behind the\ncupboard before I went to bed.\n\nMy grandmother, who had on several occasions observed that I was wholly\nabsorbed in my reading, but now and then lifted my eyes to look at a\nnumber of circles formed of twisted rods laid on one another, fell into\nthe greatest consternation over the matter; she believed nothing less\nthan that her grandson had lost his wits. She did not delay, therefore,\nto tell my father, and point out to him the place where the magical\ninstrument was kept. He soon guessed what was the meaning of this.\nAccordingly he took the sphere in his hand, and sent for me. When I\ncame, he asked me, \"What sort of plaything is this?\"\n\n\"It is a _Kadur_,[15]\" I replied.\n\n\"What does it mean?\" he asked.\n\nI then explained to him the use of all the circles for the purpose of\nmaking the celestial phenomena intelligible. My father, who was a good\nrabbi indeed, but had no special talent for science, could not\ncomprehend all that I endeavoured to make comprehensible. He was\nespecially puzzled, by the comparison of my armillary sphere with the\nfigure in the book, to understand how out of straight lines circles\nshould be evolved; but one thing he could see,--that I was sure of my\nbusiness. He therefore scolded me, it is true, because I had\ntransgressed his command to meddle with nothing beyond the Talmud; but\nstill he felt a secret pleasure, that his young son, without a guide or\nprevious training, had been able by himself to master an entire work of\nscience. And with this the affair came to an end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nJewish Schools--The Joy of being released from them causes a stiff foot.\n\n\nMy brother Joseph and I were sent to Mir to school. My brother, who was\nabout twelve years old, was put to board with a schoolmaster of some\nrepute at that time, by name Jossel. This man was the terror of all\nyoung people, \"the scourge of God;\" he treated those in his charge with\nunheard of cruelty, flogged them till the blood came, even for the\nslightest offence, and not infrequently tore off their ears, or beat\ntheir eyes out. When the parents of these unfortunates came to him, and\nbrought him to task, he struck them with stones or whatever else came to\nhand, and drove them with his stick out of the house back to their own\ndwellings, without any respect of persons. All under his discipline\nbecame either blockheads or good scholars. I, who was then only seven\nyears old, was sent to another schoolmaster.\n\nAn anecdote I must here relate, which shows on the one side great\nbrotherly love, and on the other may be viewed as expressing the\ncondition of a child's mind, that sways between the hope of lightening\nan evil, and the fear of increasing it. One day as I came from school,\nmy eyes were all red with weeping, for which there was doubtless good\ncause. My brother observed this, and asked the reason. At first I showed\nsome hesitation in answering; but at last I said, \"I weep because we\ndare not tell tales out of school.\" My brother understood me very well,\nwas extremely indignant at my teacher, and was going to read him a\nlesson on the subject. I begged him however not to do it, because in all\nprobability the teacher would take his revenge on me for telling tales\nout of school.\n\nI must now say something of the condition of the Jewish schools in\ngeneral. The school is commonly a small smoky hut, and the children are\nscattered, some on benches, some on the bare earth. The master, in a\ndirty blouse sitting on the table, holds between his knees a bowl, in\nwhich he grinds tobacco into snuff with a huge pestle like the club of\nHercules, while at the same time he wields his authority. The ushers\ngive lessons, each in his own corner, and rule those under their charge\nquite as despotically as the master himself. Of the breakfast, lunch,\nand other food sent to the school for the children, these gentlemen keep\nthe largest share for themselves. Sometimes even the poor youngsters get\nnothing at all; and yet they dare not make any complaint on the subject,\nif they will not expose themselves to the vengeance of these tyrants.\nHere the children are imprisoned from morning to night, and have not an\nhour to themselves, except on Friday and a half-holiday at the Newmoon.\n\nAs far as study is concerned, the reading of Hebrew at least is pretty\nregularly learned. On the other hand, with the mastery of the Hebrew\nlanguage very seldom is any progress made. Grammar is not treated in the\nschool at all, but has to be learnt _ex usu_, by translation of the Holy\nScriptures, very much as the ordinary man learns imperfectly the grammar\nof his mother-tongue by social intercourse. Moreover there is no\ndictionary of the Hebrew language. The children therefore begin at once\nwith the explanation of the Bible. This is divided into as many sections\nas there are weeks in the year, in order that the Books of Moses, which\nare read in the synagogues every Saturday, may be read through in a\nyear. Accordingly every week some verses from the beginning of the\nsection proper to the week are explained in school, and that with every\npossible grammatical blunder. Nor can it well be otherwise. For the\nHebrew must be explained by means of the mother-tongue. But the\nmother-tongue of the Polish Jews is itself full of defects and\ngrammatical inaccuracies; and as a matter of course therefore also the\nHebrew language, which is learned by its means, must be of the same\nstamp. The pupil thus acquires just as little knowledge of the language,\nas of the contents, of the Bible.\n\nIn addition to this the Talmudists have fastened all sorts of\nextraordinary conceits on the Bible. The ignorant teacher believes with\nconfidence, that the Bible cannot in reality have any other meaning than\nthat which these expositions ascribe to it; and the pupil must follow\nhis teacher's faith, so that the right understanding of words\nnecessarily becomes lost. For example, in the first Book of Moses it is\nsaid, \"Jacob sent messengers to his brother Esau, etc.\" Now, the\nTalmudists were pleased to give out, that these messengers were angels.\nFor though the word _Malachim_ in Hebrew denotes messenger as well as\nangels, these marvel-mongers preferred the second signification, because\nthe first contains nothing marvellous. The pupil therefore holds the\nbelief firm and fast, that Malachim denotes nothing but angels; and the\nnatural meaning of messengers is for him wholly lost. A correct\nknowledge of the Hebrew language and a sound exegesis can be attained\nonly gradually by independent study and by reading grammars and critical\ncommentaries on the Bible, like those of Rabbi David Kimchi[16] and Aben\nEsra; but of these very few rabbis make use.\n\nAs the children are doomed in the bloom of youth to such an infernal\nschool, it may be easily imagined with what joy and rapture they look\nforward to their release. We, that is, my brother and I, were taken home\nto the great feasts; and it was on a trip of this sort, that the\nfollowing incident happened, which in relation to me was very critical.\nMy mother came once before Whitsuntide to the town where we were at\nschool, in order to purchase sundry articles required for the house. She\nthen took us home with her. The release from school, and the sight of\nthe beauty of nature which at this season displays its best attire,\nthrew us into such ecstasy, that we fell upon all sorts of wanton\nfancies. When we were not far from home, my brother sprang out of the\ncarriage, and ran forward on foot. I was going to imitate his daring\nleap, but unfortunately had not sufficient strength. I fell down\ntherefore with violence on the carriage, so that my legs came between\nthe wheels, and one of these passed over my left leg, which was thereby\npitiably crushed. I was carried home half-dead. My foot became cramped,\nand I was wholly unable to move it.\n\nA Jewish doctor was consulted, who had not indeed regularly studied and\ngraduated at a university, but had acquired his medical knowledge merely\nby serving with a physician and reading some medical books in the\nPolish language, who was nevertheless a very good practical physician,\nand effected many successful cures. He said that at present he was\nprovided with no medicines,--the nearest apothecary's shop was about\ntwenty miles[17] distant,--and consequently he could prescribe nothing\nin the ordinary method, but that meanwhile a simple domestic remedy\nmight be applied. The remedy was, to kill a dog and thrust into it the\ncramped foot; this, repeated several times, was to give certain relief.\nThe prescription was followed with the desired result, so that after\nsome weeks I was able to use the foot again, and by degrees I completely\nrecovered.\n\nI think it would not be at all amiss, if medical men gave more attention\nto such domestic remedies, which are used with good results in districts\nwhere there are no regular physicians or apothecaries' shops; they might\neven make special journeys with this end in view. I know many a case of\nthis sort, which can be in nowise explained away. This however in\npassing. I return to my story.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nMy Family is driven into Misery, and an old Servant loses by his great\nFaithfulness a Christian Burial.\n\n\nMy father, who, as already mentioned, traded with K\u00f6nigsberg in Prussia,\nhad once shipped in a vessel of Prince Radzivil's some barrels of salt\nand herrings which he had bought there. When he came home and was going\nto fetch his goods, the agent, Schachna, absolutely refused to let him\ntake them. My father then showed the bill of lading, which he had got on\nthe shipment of the goods; but the agent tore it out of his hands, and\nthrew it into the fire. My father found himself therefore compelled to\ncarry on a long and costly suit, which he had to delay till the\nfollowing year, when he would again make a journey to K\u00f6nigsberg. Here\nhe obtained a certificate from the custom-house, showing that he had\nshipped the said goods in a vessel of Prince Radzivil's under the\ndirection of Herr Schachna. On this certificate the agent was summoned\nbefore the court, but found it convenient not to make an appearance; and\nmy father gained the suit in the first, second, and third instances. In\nspite of this, however, as a consequence of the wretched administration\nof justice in Poland at the time, my father had no power to execute\nthis decision, and therefore from this successful suit he did not even\nrecover the costs.\n\nTo this was added the further result, that by this suit he made Herr\nSchachna an enemy who persecuted him now in every possible way. This the\ncunning scoundrel could accomplish very well, as by all sorts of\nintrigues he had been appointed by Prince Radzivil steward of all his\nestates situated in the district of Mir. He resolved therefore on my\nfather's ruin, and only waited for a convenient opportunity to carry out\nhis revenge.\n\nThis he found soon; and indeed a Jew, who was named after his farm\nSchwersen, and was known as the biggest scoundrel in the whole\nneighbourhood, offered him a hand. This fellow was an ignoramus, did not\neven understand the Jewish language, and made use therefore of Russian.\nHe occupied himself mainly in examining the farms in the neighbourhood,\nand he knew how to get possession of the most lucrative among them by\noffering a higher rent and bribing the steward. Without troubling\nhimself in the least about the laws of the _Chazakah_,[18] he drove the\nold legal farmers from their possessions, and enriched himself by this\nmeans. He thus lived in wealth and fortune, and in this state reached an\nadvanced age.\n\nThe scoundrel had already for a long time had his eye on my\ngrandfather's farm, and waited merely for a favourable opportunity and a\nplausible pretext to get possession of it himself. Unfortunately my\ngranduncle Jacob, who lived in another village belonging to my\ngrandfather's farm, had been obliged to become a debtor of the scoundrel\nto the amount of about fifty rix-dollars. As he could not clear off the\ndebt at the time when it was due, his creditor came with some servants\nof the manor, and threatened to seize the cauldron, in which my\ngranduncle's whole wealth consisted. In consternation he loaded a waggon\nsecretly with the cauldron, drove with all haste to my grandfather's,\nand, without letting any of us know, hid it in the adjoining marsh\nbehind the house. His creditor, however, who followed on his heels, came\nto my grandfather's, and made search all over, but could find the\ncauldron nowhere. Irritated at this unsuccessful stroke, and breathing\nvengeance against my grandfather who, he believed, had prevented his\nsuccess, he rode to the town, carried to the steward an imposing\npresent, and offered for my grandfather's farm double the rent, besides\nan annual voluntary present to the steward.\n\nThis gentleman, joyous over such an offer, and mindful of the disgrace\nwhich my father, a Jew, had brought upon him, a Polish noble, by the\nabove-mentioned suit, made on the spot a contract with the scoundrel, by\nwhich he not only gave over to him this farm with all the rights\npertaining to it even before the end of my grandfather's lease, but\nalso robbed my grandfather of all he had,--his barns full of grain, his\ncattle, etc.,--and shared the plunder with the new farmer.\n\nMy grandfather was therefore obliged with his whole family to quit his\ndwelling-place in mid-winter, and, without knowing where he should\nsettle again, to wander about from place to place. Our departure from\nthis place was very affecting. The whole neighbourhood lamented our\nfate. An old and faithful servant of eighty years, named Gabriel, who\nhad carried in his arms even my grandfather as a child, insisted on\ngoing with us. Representations were made to him on the severity of the\nseason, our unfortunate situation, and the uncertainty in which we\nourselves were placed as to our future destiny. But it was of no avail.\nHe placed himself on the road before the gate, by which our waggons had\nto pass, and lamented so long that we were obliged to take him up. He\ndid not however travel with us long: his advanced age, his grief over\nour misery, and the severe season gave him soon the finishing stroke. He\ndied when we had gone scarcely two or three miles; and as no Catholic or\nRussian community would allow him burial in their churchyard--he was a\nPrussian and a Lutheran--he was buried at our expense in the open\nfield.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nNew Abode, new Misery--The Talmudist.\n\n\nWe wandered about therefore in the country, like the Israelites in the\nwilderness of Arabia, without knowing where or when we should find a\nplace of rest. At last we came to a village which belonged to two\nlandlords. The one part was already leased; but the landlord of the\nother could not lease his, because he had still to build a house. Weary\nof wandering in winter-time with a whole family, my grandfather resolved\nto take a lease of this house, which was still to be built, along with\nits appurtenances, and meanwhile, till the house was ready, to make\nshift as well as he could. Accordingly we were obliged to take up our\nquarters in a barn. The other farmer did all in his power to prevent our\nsettlement in the place; but it was of no avail. The building was\nfinished, we took possession, and began to keep house.\n\nUnfortunately however everything went backward here; nothing would\nsucceed. An addition came to our misfortunes in my mother's illness.\nBeing of a very lively temperament and disposed to a life of activity,\nshe found here the weariness of having nothing to do. This, with her\nanxiety about the means of subsistence, threw her into a state of\nmelancholy, which developed at last into insanity. In this condition she\nremained for some months. Everything was tried for her benefit, but\nwithout success. At last my father hit upon the idea of taking her to a\ncelebrated doctor at Novogrod, who made a specialty of curing mental\ndisorders.\n\nThe method of cure employed by this specialist is unknown to me, because\nI was at the time too young to wish or be able to institute inquiries on\nthe subject; but so much I can declare with certainty, that in the case\nof my mother, as well as most of his patients afflicted with the same\nmalady, the treatment was followed with success. My mother returned home\nfresh and healthy, and from that time she never had an attack of the\nsame sort.\n\nImmediately after this I was sent to school at Iwenez, about fifteen\nmiles from our abode, and here I began to study the Talmud. The study of\nthe Talmud is the chief object of a learned education among our people.\nRiches, bodily advantages, and talents of every kind have indeed in\ntheir eyes a certain worth, and are esteemed in proportion; but nothing\nstands among them above the dignity of a good Talmudist. He has the\nfirst claim upon all offices and positions of honour in the community.\nIf he enters an assembly,--he may be of any age or rank,--every one\nrises before him most respectfully, and the most honourable place is\nassigned to him. He is director of the conscience, lawgiver and judge\nof the common man. He, who does not meet such a scholar with sufficient\nrespect, is, according to the judgment of the Talmudists, damned to all\neternity. The common man dare not enter upon the most trivial\nundertaking, if, in the judgment of the scholar, it is not according to\nlaw. Religious usages, allowed and forbidden meats, marriage and divorce\nare determined not only by the rabbinical laws which have already\naccumulated to an enormous mass, but also by special rabbinical\njudgments which profess to deduce all special cases from the general\nlaws. A wealthy merchant, farmer or professional man, who has a\ndaughter, does everything in his power to get a good Talmudist for his\nson-in-law. As far as other matters are concerned, the scholar may be as\ndeformed, diseased, and ignorant as possible, he will still have the\nadvantage over others. The future father-in-law of such a phoenix is\nobliged, at the betrothal, to pay to the parents of the youth a sum\nfixed by previous agreement; and besides the dowry for his daughter, he\nis further obliged to provide her and her husband with food, clothing,\nand lodging, for six or eight years after their marriage, during which\ntime the interest on the dowry is paid, so that the learned son-in-law\nmay continue his studies at his father-in-law's expense. After this\nperiod he receives the dowry in hand, and then he is either promoted to\nsome learned office, or he spends his whole life in learned leisure. In\neither case the wife undertakes the management of the household and the\nconduct of business; and she is content if only in return for all her\ntoils she becomes in some measure a partaker of her husband's fame and\nfuture blessedness.\n\nThe study of the Talmud is carried on just as irregularly as that of the\nBible. The language of the Talmud is composed of various Oriental\nlanguages and dialects; there is even many a word in it from Greek and\nLatin. There is no dictionary, in which you can turn up the expressions\nand phrases met with in the Talmud; and, what is still worse, as the\nTalmud is not pointed, you cannot even tell how such words, that are not\npure Hebrew, are to be read. The language of the Talmud, therefore, like\nthat of the Bible, is learned only through frequent translation; and\nthis constitutes the _first_ stage in the study of the Talmud.\n\nWhen the pupil has been directed for some time in translation by the\nteacher, he goes on to the independent reading or explanation of the\nTalmud. The teacher gives him a limited portion of the Talmud,\ncontaining within itself a connected argument, as a task in exposition,\nwhich he must perform within a fixed time. The particular expressions\nand forms of speech occurring in the passage must either be known by the\npupil from his former lessons, or the teacher, who here takes the place\nof a dictionary, explains them to him. But the tenor and the entire\nconnection of the prescribed passage the pupil is required to bring out\nhimself; and this constitutes the second stage in the study of the\nTalmud.\n\nTwo commentaries, which are commonly printed along with the text, serve\nas the chief guides at this point. The author of the one is Rabbi\nSolomon Isaac,[19] a man gifted with grammatical and critical knowledge\nof language, with extensive and thorough Talmudic insight, and with an\nuncommon precision of style. The other is known by the title of\n_Tosaphoth (Additions)_, and is the work of several rabbis. Its origin\nis very remarkable. A number of the most famous rabbis agreed to study\nthe Talmud in company. For this purpose each selected a separate\nportion, which he studied by himself till he believed that he had fully\ncomprehended it, and retained it in memory. Afterwards all the rabbis\nmet, and began to study the Talmud in company according to the order of\nits parts. As soon as the first part had been read out, thoroughly\nexplained, and settled according to the Talmudic Logic, one of the\nrabbis produced, from the part of the Talmud with which he was most\nfamiliar, anything that appeared to contradict this passage. Another\nthen adduced, from the part which he had made thoroughly his own, a\npassage which was able to remove this contradiction by means of some\ndistinction or some qualification unexpressed in the preceding passage.\nSometimes the removal of such a contradiction occasioned another, which\na third rabbi disclosed, and a fourth laboured to remove, till the first\npassage was explained harmoniously by all, and made perfectly clear. It\nmay easily be imagined, what a high degree of subtlety is required to\nreduce the Talmud to first principles, from which correct inferences may\nbe drawn after an uniform method; for the Talmud is a voluminous and\nheterogeneous work, in which even the same subject often turns up in\ndifferent passages, where it is explained in different ways.\n\nBesides these two there are several other commentaries which treat the\nsubject further, and even make corrections on the two just mentioned.\nIndeed, every rabbi, if he possesses sufficient acuteness, is to be\nviewed as a living commentary on the Talmud. But the highest effort of\nthe mind is required to prepare a selection from the Talmud or a code of\nthe laws deducible from it. This implies not only acuteness, but also a\nmind in the highest degree systematic. Herein our Maimonides undoubtedly\ndeserves the first rank, as may be seen from his code, _Jad Hachazekah_.\n\nThe _final_ stage in the study of the Talmud is that of disputation. It\nconsists in eternally disputing about the book, without end or aim.\nSubtlety, loquacity, and impertinence here carry the day. This sort of\nstudy was formerly very common in the Jewish high schools;[20] but in\nour times along with the schools it has also fallen into decay. It is a\nkind of Talmudic scepticism, and utterly incompatible with any\nsystematic study directed to some end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nJoy endureth but a little while.\n\n\nAfter this digression on the study of the Talmud I return to my story.\nAs already mentioned, I was sent to school at Iwenez. My father gave me\na letter to the chief rabbi of this place, who was a relation of ours,\nrequesting him to give me in charge to an able teacher, and to give some\nattention to the progress of my studies. He gave me however in charge to\na common schoolmaster, and told me I was to visit him every Sabbath in\norder that he might examine me himself. This injunction I punctually\nfollowed; but the arrangement did not continue long; for at one of these\nexaminations I began to dispute about my lessons and suggest\ndifficulties, when, without replying to them, the chief rabbi asked me\nif I had stated these difficulties to my teacher also.\n\n\"Of course,\" I replied.\n\n\"And what did he say?\" asked the chief rabbi.\n\n\"Nothing to the point,\" I replied, \"except that he enjoined silence on\nme, and said, 'A youngster must not be too inquisitive; he must see to\nit merely that he understands his lesson, but must not overwhelm his\nteacher with questions.'\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the chief rabbi, \"your teacher is altogether too easy, we\nmust make a change. I will give you instruction myself. I will do it\nmerely out of friendship, and I hope that your father will have as\nlittle to say against it as your former teacher. The fee which your\nfather pays for your education, will be given to your teacher without\ndeduction.\"\n\nIn this way I got the chief rabbi for a teacher. He struck out a way of\nhis own with me. No weekly lessons repeated till they are impressed on\nthe memory, no tasks which the pupil is obliged to perform for himself,\nand in which the course of his thoughts is very often arrested for the\nsake of a single word or a figure of speech, which has little to do with\nthe main subject. His method distinguished itself from all this. He made\nme explain something from the Talmud _ex tempore_ in his presence,\nconversed with me on the subject, explained to me so much as was\nnecessary to set my own mind in activity, and by means of questions and\nanswers turned my attention away from all side-issues to the main\nsubject, so that in a short time I passed through all the three\nabove-mentioned stages in the study of the Talmud.\n\nMy father, to whom the chief rabbi gave an account of his plan with me\nand of my progress, went beside himself with joy. He returned his\nwarmest thanks to this excellent man for putting himself to so much\ntrouble with me out of mere friendship, and that notwithstanding his\ndelicate state of health, for he was consumptive. But this joy did not\nlast long; before a half year was ended, the chief rabbi had to betake\nhimself to his fathers, and I was left like a sheep without a shepherd.\n\nThis was announced to my father, who came and fetched me home. Not,\nhowever, to H----, from which I had been sent to school, but to Mohilna,\nabout six miles from H----, whither my father had meanwhile removed.\nThis new change of abode had taken place in the following way.\n\nMohilna is a small hamlet in the territory of Prince Radzivil four miles\nfrom Nesvij, his residence. The situation of this place is excellent.\nHaving the river Niemen on one side, and on the other a large quantity\nof the best timber for ships, it is adapted equally for trade and for\nshipbuilding. Moreover the district in itself possesses great fertility\nand amenity. These facts could not escape the attention of the Prince.\nThe farmer or _arendant_ of the place, whose family for some generations\nhad been in possession of this lucrative farm, and had become rich by\nmeans of the shipbuilding trade, and the numerous fine products of the\ndistrict, took all possible pains to prevent these great advantages from\nbeing observed, in order that he might be able to enjoy them alone\nwithout being disturbed. But it happened once that the prince was\ntravelling through the place, and was so taken with its beauty, that he\nresolved to make a town of it. He sketched a plan for this, and made an\nannouncement that the place was to be a _Slabode_; that is, every one\nwas to be at liberty to settle in the place, and drive any kind of\ntrade, and was even to be free from all taxes for the first six years.\nFor a long time, however, this plan was never carried out, owing to all\nsorts of intrigues on the part of the arendant, who went so far as even\nto bribe the advisers of the prince to turn his attention away from the\nsubject.\n\nMy father, who saw clearly that the miserable farm of H---- could not\nsupport him and his family, and had been obliged to remain there\nhitherto only from want of a better abode, rejoiced very much at the\nannouncement, because he hoped that Mohilna would offer him a place of\nrefuge, especially as the arendant was a brother-in-law of my uncle. In\nthis connection he made a journey to the place with my grandfather, had\na conversation with the arendant, and opened to him his proposal to\nsettle in Mohilna with his consent. The arendant, who had feared that,\non the announcement of the prince's wish, people would stream in from\nall sides, and press him out of his possession, was delighted that at\nleast the first who settled there was not a stranger, but related to his\nfamily by marriage. He therefore not only gave his consent to the\nproposal, but even promised my father all possible assistance.\nAccordingly my father removed with his whole family to Mohilna, and had\na small house built for himself there; but till it was ready, the family\nwere obliged once more to take up their quarters in a barn.\n\nThe arendant, by whom at first we were received in a friendly manner,\nhad unfortunately meanwhile changed his mind, and found that his fear of\nbeing pressed out of his possession by strangers was wholly without\nground, inasmuch as already a considerable time had passed since the\nannouncement of the prince's wish, and yet nobody had presented himself\nbesides my father. The prince, as a Polish chief and _Voivode_ in\nLithuania, was constantly burdened too much with State affairs in\nWarsaw, to be able to think on the carrying out of his plan himself; and\nhis subordinates could be induced by bribes to frustrate the whole plan.\nThese considerations showed the arendant that the new-comer could not\nonly be spared, but was even a burden, inasmuch as he had now to share\nwith another what he had before held in possession alone. He sought\ntherefore to restrict my father, and to disturb him in his settlement,\nas much as possible. With this view he built for himself a splendid\nhouse, and succeeded in obtaining a command from the prince, in\naccordance with which none of the newcomers should enjoy the rights of a\nburgher till he had built a similar house. My father saw himself\ntherefore compelled to waste his little fortune, which was indispensably\nrequired for the new arrangements, wholly and solely on this useless\nbuilding.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nThe Pupil knows more than the Teacher--A theft _\u00e0 la Rousseau_, which is\ndiscovered--\"The ungodly provideth, and the righteous putteth it on.\"\n\n\nMy father's condition had thus externally an improved appearance, but so\nmuch the more doubtful did it appear internally on that account. My\nmother, notwithstanding her unwearied activity, was able to make only a\nvery sorry provision for the family. Accordingly my father was obliged\nto seek, in addition to his other duties, a position as teacher, in\nwhich he carried on my education; and I must confess that in this\nconnection I gave him, on the one hand, much joy, but, on the other\nhand, not a little vexation. I was then indeed only about nine years\nold; still, I could not only understand the Talmud and its commentaries\ncorrectly, but I even took delight in disputing about it, and in this I\nfelt a childish pleasure in triumphing over my honest father, whom I\nthereby threw into no small perplexity.\n\nThe arendant and my father lived together like neighbours; that is, they\nenvied and hated each other. The former looked on my father as a\nvagrant, who had forced himself upon him, and disturbed him in his\nundivided possession of the advantages of the place. My father took the\narendant for a wealthy blockhead, who, against the consent which he had\ngranted, which my father might have dispensed with altogether and had\nsought merely from the love of peace, endeavoured in every way to\nrestrict him and to narrow his rights, notwithstanding the fact that he\nreceived actual advantages from his settlement. For from this time\nMohilna had acquired a sort of independence, by means of which the\narendant was spared many expenses and depreciations. There was also a\nsmall synagogue erected, and my father took the position of chief rabbi,\npreacher, and director of the conscience, as he was the only scholar in\nthe place. He lost, indeed, no opportunity of representing all this to\nthe arendant, and making complaints of his conduct; but unfortunately\nthis was of little use.\n\nI must take this opportunity of mentioning the only theft which I ever\nperpetrated in my life. I often went to the house of the arendant, and\nplayed with his children. Once, when I entered a room and found no one\nthere, it being summer and the people of the house all busy out of\ndoors, I spied in an open closet a neat little medicine-box which\nappeared to me uncommonly charming. When I opened it, I found, to my\nvery great sorrow, some money in it; for it belonged to one of the\nchildren of the house. I could not resist the desire to carry off the\nlittle box; but to take the money seemed to me in the highest degree\nshameful. But when I considered that the theft would be all the more\neasily discovered if I put the money out, full of fear and shame I took\nthe box as it was and thrust it in my pocket. I went home with it, and\nburied it very carefully. The night following I could not sleep, and was\ndisquieted in conscience, especially on account of the money. I\nresolved, therefore, to take it back; but in regard to the little box, I\ncould not conquer myself: it was a work of art, the like of which I had\nnever seen before. The next day I emptied the box of its contents, slunk\nwith them into the room already mentioned, and waited for an opportunity\nwhen nobody was there. I was already engaged in smuggling the money into\nthe closet; but I had so little skill in doing this without noise and\nwith the necessary despatch, that I was caught in the act, and forced to\na confession of the whole theft. I was obliged to dig up again the\nvaluable work of art,--it must have cost about a quarter of a\ngroschen,--to return it to its owner, little Moses, and to hear myself\ncalled _thief_ by the children of the house.\n\nAnother incident, which happened to me and had a comical issue, was the\nfollowing. The Russians had been quartered for some time in Mohilna, and\nas they obtained new mountings, they were allowed to sell the old. My\neldest brother Joseph and my cousin Beer applied to Russian\nacquaintances of theirs, and received in a present some brass buttons,\nwhich, being considered a fine decoration, they got sewed on to their\nhose instead of the wooden buttons they had before. I also was\ndelighted with the decoration; but as I had not the skill to furnish\nmyself by my own diligence, I was compelled to make use of force. I\napplied, therefore, to my father, and demanded that Joseph and Beer\nshould be required to share their buttons with me. My father, who,\nindeed, was extremely fair, but still was fond of me above everything,\nsaid that the buttons were, of course, the rightful property of their\nowners, but that, as these had more than they required for their own\nwants, it was but fair that they should give me some of those that they\ndid not require. To my commendation and their confusion he added the\npassage of the Bible, \"The ungodly provideth, and the righteous putteth\nit on.\"[21] This decision had to be carried out in spite of the protest\nof Joseph and Beer; and I had the pleasure of also shining in brass\nbuttons on my hose.\n\nJoseph and Beer however could not get over their loss. They complained\nloudly of the impious wrong which had been done to them. My father, who\nwished to get rid of the affair, told them therefore, that, as the\nbuttons had been already sewed on to Solomon's hose, they must not use\nforce, but that, if they could get them back again by stratagem, they\nwere at liberty to do so. Both were pleased with this decision. They\ncame to me, looked at my buttons, and both at once exclaimed in\nastonishment, \"Oh! what is that we see? Buttons sewed on to cloth hose\nwith linen instead of hemp thread! They must be taken off at once.\"\nWhile they were speaking, they took off all the buttons, and went off\nwith joy over their successful stratagem. I ran after them, and demanded\nthat they should sew the buttons on again; but they laughed me to scorn.\nMy father said to me smiling at this, \"Since you are so credulous, and\nallow yourself to be deceived, I cannot help you any longer; I hope you\nwill be wiser in the future.\" With this the affair came to an end. I was\nobliged to content myself with wooden buttons, and to have often\nrepeated to my mortification by Joseph and Beer, the biblical passage,\nwhich my father had used to my advantage, \"The ungodly provideth, and\nthe righteous putteth it on.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nLove Affairs and Matrimonial Proposals--The Song of Solomon may be used\nin Matchmaking--A new _Modus Lucrand_i--Smallpox.\n\n\nIn my youth I was very lively, and had in my nature a good deal that was\nagreeable. In my passions I was violent and impatient. Till about my\neleventh year, as I had the benefit of a very strict education, and was\nkept from all intercourse with women, I never traced any special\ninclination towards the fair sex. But an incident produced in me a great\nchange in this respect.\n\nA poor, but very pretty, girl about my own age was taken into our house\nas a servant. She charmed me uncommonly. Desires began to stir in me,\nwhich till this time I had never known. But in accordance with the\nstrict rabbinical morals, I was obliged to keep on my guard against\nlooking on the girl with attentive gaze, and still more against speaking\nwith her, so that I was able only now and then to throw at her a stolen\nglance.\n\nIt happened once however that the women of the house were going to\nbathe, which by the usage of the country they are accustomed to do two\nor three times a week. By chance my instinct drove me without\nreflection towards the place where they bathed; and there I suddenly\nperceived this beautiful girl, as she stepped out of the steam-bath and\nplunged into the river flowing by. At this sight I fell into a sort of\nrapture. After my feelings had calmed down again, being mindful of the\nstrict Talmudic laws, I wished to flee. But I could not; I remained\nstanding, as if rooted in the spot. As I dreaded however lest I might be\nsurprised here, I was obliged to return with a heavy heart. From that\ntime I became restless, was sometimes beside myself; and this state\ncontinued till my marriage.\n\nOur neighbour, the arendant, had two sons and three daughters. The\neldest daughter, Deborah, was already married. The second, Pessel, was\nabout my age; the peasantry of the place professed to find even a\ncertain resemblance in our features, and therefore, in accordance with\nall the laws of probability, conjectured that there would be a match\nbetween us. We formed also a mutual affection. But by ill luck the\nyoungest daughter, Rachel, had to fall into a cellar and dislocated one\nof her legs. She herself, indeed, completely recovered, but the leg\nremained somewhat crooked. The arendant then started a hunt after me; he\nwas absolutely determined to have me for a son-in-law. My father was\nquite agreeable, but he wished to have for his daughter-in-law the\nstraight-legged Pessel rather than Rachel of the crooked leg. The\narendant however declared that this was impracticable, inasmuch as he\nhad fixed on a rich husband for the elder, while the youngest was\ndestined for me; and as my father was unable to give me anything, he was\nwilling to provide for her richly out of his own fortune. Besides a\nconsiderable sum which he agreed to give as a portion, he was willing in\naddition to make me a joint-heir of his fortune, and to provide me with\nall necessaries the whole of my life. Moreover he promised to pay my\nfather a fixed sum immediately after the betrothal, and not only to\nleave him undisturbed in his rights, but also to try and promote his\ndomestic happiness in every possible way. The feuds between the two\nfamilies were to cease from this time, and a league of friendship was to\nunite them for the future into one family.\n\nHad my father lent an ear to these representations, he would without\ndoubt have established the fortune of his house, and I should have lived\nwith a spouse, who, it is true, had a crooked leg, but (as I found out\nsome time afterwards when I was tutor in her family) was in other\nrespects an amiable woman. I should thus have been freed from all cares\nin the midst of good fortune, and I should have been able to apply\nmyself without hindrance to my studies. But unhappily my father rejected\nthis proposal with scorn. He was absolutely determined to have Pessel\nfor his daughter-in-law; and since this, as already mentioned, was\nimpracticable, the feuds between the two families broke out afresh. But\nas the arendant was rich, and my father was a poor man, the latter was\nnecessarily always the loser.\n\nSome time afterwards another matrimonial proposal for me turned up. Mr.\nL---- of Schmilowitz, a learned and at the same time a rich man, who had\nan only daughter, was so enchanted with my fame, that he chose me for\nhis son-in-law without having seen me before. He began by entering into\ncorrespondence with my father on the subject, and left it to him to\nprescribe the conditions of the union. My father answered his letter in\nlofty style, made up of Biblical verses and passages from the Talmud, in\nwhich he expressed the conditions briefly by means of the following\nverses from the Canticles, \"The thousand gulden are for thee, O Solomon,\nand the two hundred for those who keep his fruits.\"[22] Consent was\ngiven to everything.\n\nMy father accordingly made a journey to Schmilowitz, saw his future\ndaughter-in-law, and had the marriage-contract drawn in accordance with\nthe terms agreed upon. Two hundred gulden were paid to him on the spot.\nWith this, however, he was not content, but insisted that in his letter\nhe had been obliged to limit himself to two hundred gulden merely for\nthe sake of the beautiful verse which he did not wish to spoil; but he\nwould not enter into the transaction at all unless he received for\nhimself twice two hundred gulden (fifty thalers in Polish money). They\nhad therefore to pay him two hundred gulden more, and to hand over to\nhim the so-called little presents for me, namely, a cap of black velvet\ntrimmed with gold lace, a Bible bound in green velvet with silver\nclasps, etc. With these things he came home full of joy, gave me the\npresents, and told me that I was to prepare myself for a disputation to\nbe held on my marriage day, which would be in two months' time.\n\nAlready my mother had begun to bake the cakes she was expected to take\nwith her to the wedding, and to prepare all sorts of preserves; I began\nalso to think about the disputation I was to hold, when suddenly the\nmournful news arrived that my bride had died of smallpox. My father\ncould easily reconcile himself to this loss, because he thought to\nhimself that he had made fifty thalers by his son in an honourable way,\nand that now he could get fifty thalers for him again. I also, who had\nnever seen my bride, could not particularly mourn her loss; I thought to\nmyself, \"The cap and the silver-clasped Bible are already mine, and a\nbride will also not be awanting long, while my disputation can serve me\nagain.\" My mother alone was inconsolable about this loss. Cakes and\npreserves are of a perishable nature and will not keep long. The labour\nwhich my mother had expended was therefore rendered fruitless by this\nfatal accident; and to this must be added, that she could find no place\nto keep the delicious cakes from my secret attacks.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nI become an object of contention, get two wives at once, and am\nkidnapped at last.\n\n\nMeanwhile the domestic circumstances of my father became every day\nworse. He saw himself, therefore, compelled to make a journey to the\ntown of Nesvij, and apply for a position as teacher there, whither I\nalso had to follow him. Here he opened under favourable conditions a\nschool of his own, in which he could employ me as assistant.\n\nA widow, celebrated for her superior talents, as well as for her\nXanthippe-like character, kept a public-house at the extremity of one of\nthe suburbs. She had a daughter who yielded to her in none of the\nabove-mentioned qualities, and who was indispensable to her in the\nmanagement of the house. Madam Rissia, (this was the widow's name),\nexcited by my constantly increasing reputation, fixed on me as a husband\nfor her daughter Sarah. Her family represented to her the impossibility\nof carrying out this plan; first, my father's pride, and the demands\nwhich he would therefore make, and which she could never satisfy; then\nmy fame, which had already excited the attention of the most prominent\nand wealthy people of the town; and finally, the moderate character of\nher own fortune, which was far from sufficient to carry out such a\nproposal. All these representations, however, were of no avail with her.\nShe had once for all taken it into her head, to have me for a\nson-in-law, let it cost her what it might; and she thought, the devil\nwould needs be in it, if she could not get the young man.\n\nShe sent a proposal to my father, let him have no rest the whole time he\nwas in the town, discussed the matter with him herself on various\noccasions, and promised to satisfy all his demands. My father, however,\nsought to gain time for deliberation, and to put off the question for a\nwhile. But the time came when we were to return home. My father went\nwith me to the widow's house, which was the last on our road, in order\nto wait for a conveyance which started from that place. Madam Rissia\nmade use of the opportunity, began to caress me, introduced my bride,\nand asked me how I was pleased with her. At last she pressed for a\ndecisive answer from my father. He was still always holding back,\nhowever, and sought in every possible way to represent the difficulties\nconnected with the subject.\n\nWhile they were thus treating with one another, suddenly there burst\ninto the room the chief rabbi, the preacher, and the elders of the\nplace, with many of the most respectable people. This sudden appearance\nwas brought about without any magic in the following way. These\ngentlemen had been invited to a circumcision at the house of a prominent\nman in this very suburb. Madam Rissia, who knew this very well, sent her\nson at once to the house with an invitation to the whole company to\ncome, immediately after rising from table, to a betrothal at her house.\nThey came therefore half intoxicated; and as they believed nothing else\nthan that all the preliminaries of the marriage-contract had been\nsettled, and that nothing was awanting but to write out and subscribe\nthe contract, they sat down to table, set my father in the midst, and\nthe chief rabbi began to dictate the contract to the scribe of the\ncommunity.\n\nMy father assured them that on the main point nothing had yet been\ndecided, and that still less had the preliminary articles been settled.\nThe chief rabbi fell into a passion at this, for he supposed that it was\nonly a quibble, and that his sacred person and the whole honourable\ncompany were being made sport of. He turned therefore to the company,\nand said with a haughty air, \"Who is this Rabbi Joshua, who makes\nhimself of so much consequence?\" My father replied, \"The Rabbi is here\nsuperfluous. I am, 'tis true, a common man; but I believe, no man can\ndispute my right to care for the welfare of my son, and to place his\nfuture happiness on a firm footing.\"\n\nThe chief rabbi was greatly offended with the ambiguity of the\nexpression, \"The Rabbi is here superfluous.\" He saw clearly that he had\nno right to lay down laws to my father in the matter, and that it was a\npiece of rashness on the part of Madam Rissia to invite a company to a\nbetrothal before the parties were agreed on the preliminary articles. He\nbegan therefore to strike a lower tone. He represented to my father the\nadvantages of this match, the high ancestry of the bride, (her\ngrandfather, father, and uncle, having been learned men, and chief\nrabbis), her personal attractions, and the willingness and ability of\nMadam Rissia to satisfy all his demands.\n\nMy father, who in fact had nothing to say against all this, was\ncompelled to yield. The marriage-contract was made out, and in it Madam\nRissia made over to her daughter her public-house with all its\nbelongings as a bridal portion, and came under an obligation also to\nboard and clothe the newly-married couple for six years. Besides I\nreceived as a present the entire work of the Talmud with its\nappurtenances, together worth two or three hundred thalers,[23] and a\nnumber of other gifts. My father came under no obligation at all, and in\naddition received fifty thalers in cash. Very wisely he had refused to\naccept a bill for this sum; it had to be paid to him before the\nbetrothal.\n\nAfter all this had been arranged, there was a capital entertainment, and\nthe brandy bottle was vigorously plied. The very next day my father and\nI went home. My mother-in-law promised to send after us as soon as\npossible the so-called little presents and the articles of clothing for\nme, which in the hurry she had not been able to get ready. Many weeks\nhowever passed without our hearing or seeing anything of these. My\nfather was perplexed about this; and as the character of my\nmother-in-law had long been suspicious to him, he could think nothing\nelse than that this intriguing woman was seeking some subterfuge to\nescape from her burdensome contract. He resolved therefore to repay like\nwith like.\n\nThe following circumstance strengthened him in this resolve. A rich\narendant, who used to bring spirits to Nesvij for sale, and to lodge in\nour house on his journey through Mohilna, likewise cast his eye upon me.\nHe had an only daughter, for whom he fixed on me in his thoughts as a\nhusband. He knew however what difficulties he would have to overcome, if\nhe were to treat on the subject directly with my father. He chose\ntherefore an indirect way. His plan was to make my father his debtor;\nand as his critical circumstances would make it impossible for him to\nclear off the debt, he expected to force him, as it were, to consent to\nthis union with the view of wiping out the debt by means of the amount\nstipulated for the son. He offered my father therefore some barrels of\nspirits on credit, and the offer was accepted with delight.\n\nAs the date of payment approached, Hersch Dukor (this was the name of\nthe arendant) came and reminded my father. The latter assured him, that\nat the moment he was not in a position to clear off the debt, and begged\nhim to have patience with him for some time yet. \"Herr Joshua,\" said the\narendant, \"I will speak with you quite frankly on this matter. Your\ncircumstances are growing daily worse; and if no fortunate accident\noccurs, I do not see any possibility of your being able to clear off\nyour debt. The best thing for us both therefore is this. You have a son,\nand I have a daughter who is the sole heiress of all my property. Let us\nenter into an alliance. By this means not only will your debt be wiped\nout, but a sum to be fixed by yourself will be paid in addition, and I\nshall take a general care to improve your circumstances so far as lies\nin my power.\"\n\nNo one could be more joyous over this proposal than my father.\nImmediately a contract was closed, in which the bride's dowry, as well\nas the required presents, was decided in accordance with my father's\nsuggestion. The bill for the debt, which amounted to fifty thalers in\nPolish money, was returned to my father, and torn on the spot, while\nfifty thalers in addition were paid to him.\n\nThereupon my new father-in-law went on to Nesvij to collect some debts\nthere. Unfortunately he had to lodge at my former mother-in-law's. She,\nbeing a great prattler, told him of her own accord about the good match\nwhich her daughter had made. \"The father of the bridegroom,\" said she,\n\"is himself a great scholar, and the bridegroom is a young man of eleven\nyears, who has scarcely his equal.\"\n\n\"I also,\" replied the arendant, \"have, thank God, made a good choice for\nmy daughter. You have perhaps heard of the celebrated scholar, Rabbi\nJoshua, in Mohilna, and of his young son, Solomon: he is my daughter's\nbridegroom.\"\n\nScarcely had these words been spoken, when she cried out, \"That is a\nconfounded lie. Solomon is my daughter's bridegroom; and here, sir, is\nthe marriage-contract.\"\n\nThe arendant then showed her his contract too; and they fell into a\ndispute, the result of which was that Madam Rissia had my father\nsummoned before the court to give a categorical explanation. My father,\nhowever, did not put in an appearance, although she had him summoned\ntwice.\n\nMeanwhile my mother died, and was brought to Nesvij for burial. My\nmother-in-law obtained from the court an attachment on the dead body, by\nwhich its interment was interdicted till the termination of the suit. My\nfather therefore saw himself compelled to appear in court, my\nmother-in-law of course gained the suit, and I became again the\nbridegroom of my former bride. And now to prevent any similar reversal\nof her plans in the future, and to take from my father all occasion for\nit, my mother-in-law endeavoured to satisfy all his demands in\naccordance with her promise, clothed me from top to toe, and even paid\nmy father for my board from the date of the betrothal to the marriage.\nMy mother also was now buried, and we returned home again.\n\nMy second father-in-law came too, and called upon my father for the\nratification of his contract. He however pointed out that it was null\nand void, as it contravened a previous contract, and had been made by\nhim merely in the supposition that my mother-in-law had no intention of\nfulfilling hers. The arendant seemed to give an ear to these\nrepresentations, to yield to necessity, and reconcile himself to his\nloss; but in reality he was thinking of some means to get me into his\nhands. Accordingly he rose by night, yoked his horses, took me in\nsilence from the table on which I was sleeping, packed me with all\ndespatch into his carriage, and made off with his booty out at the gate.\nBut as this could not be accomplished without some noise, the people in\nthe house awoke, discovered the theft, pursued the kidnapper, and\nsnatched me out of his hand. To me the whole incident appeared at the\ntime like a dream.\n\nIn this way my father was released from his debt, and got fifty thalers\nbesides as a gratuity; but I was immediately afterwards carried off by\nmy legal mother-in-law, and made the husband of my legal bride. I must\nof course confess that this transaction of my father's cannot be quite\njustified in a moral point of view. Only his great need at the time can\nin some measure serve as an excuse.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nMy Marriage in my Eleventh Year makes me the Slave of my Wife, and\nprocures for me Cudgellings from my Mother-in-law--A Ghost of Flesh and\nBlood.\n\n\nOn the first evening of my marriage my father was not present. As he\ntold me at my departure that he had still to settle some articles on my\naccount, and therefore I was to wait for his arrival, I refused, in\nspite of all the efforts that were made, to appear that evening.\nNevertheless the marriage festivities went on. We waited the next day\nfor my father, but still he did not come. They then threatened to bring\na party of soldiers to drag me to the marriage ceremony; but I gave them\nfor an answer, that, if this were done, it would help them little, for\nthe ceremony would not be lawful except as a voluntary act. At last, to\nthe joy of all interested, my father arrived towards evening, the\narticles referred to were amended, and the marriage ceremony was\nperformed.\n\nHere I must mention a little anecdote. I had read in a Hebrew book of an\napproved plan for a husband to secure lordship over his better half for\nlife. He was to tread on her foot at the marriage ceremony; and if both\nhit on the stratagem, the first to succeed would retain the upper hand.\nAccordingly, when my bride and I were placed side by side at the\nceremony this trick occurred to me, and I said to myself, Now you must\nnot let the opportunity pass of securing for your whole lifetime\nlordship over your wife. I was just going to tread on her foot, but a\ncertain _Je ne sais quoi_, whether fear, shame, or love, held me back.\nWhile I was in this irresolute state, all at once I felt the slipper of\nmy wife on my foot with such an impression that I should almost have\nscreamed aloud if I had not been checked by shame. I took this for a bad\nomen and said to myself, Providence has destined you to be the slave of\nyour wife, you must not try to slip out of her fetters. From my\nfaint-heartedness and the heroic mettle of my wife, the reader may\neasily conceive why this prophecy had to be actually realised.\n\nI stood, however, not only under the slipper of my wife, but--what was\nvery much worse--under the lash of my mother-in-law. Nothing of all that\nshe had promised was fulfilled. Her house, which she had settled on her\ndaughter as a dowry, was burdened with debt. Of the six years' board\nwhich she had promised me I enjoyed scarcely half a year's, and this\namid constant brawls and squabbles. She even, trusting to my youth and\nwant of spirit, ventured now and then to lay hands on me, but this I\nrepaid not infrequently with compound interest. Scarcely a meal passed\nduring which we did not fling at each other's head, bowls, plates,\nspoons, and similar articles.\n\nOnce I came home from the academy extremely hungry. As my mother-in-law\nand wife were occupied with the business of the public house, I went\nmyself into the room where the milk was kept; and as I found a dish of\ncurds and cream, I fell upon it, and began to eat. My mother-in-law came\nas I was thus occupied, and screamed in rage, \"You are not going to\ndevour the milk with the cream!\" The more cream the better, thought I,\nand went on eating, without disturbing myself by her cry. She was going\nto wrest the dish forcibly from my hands, beat me with her fists, and\nlet me feel all her ill-will. Exasperated by such treatment, I pushed\nher from me, seized the dish, and smashed it on her head. That was a\nsight! The curds ran down all over her. She seized in rage a piece of\nwood, and if I had not cleared out in all haste, she would certainly\nhave beat me to death.\n\nScenes like this occurred very often. At such skirmishes of course my\nwife had to remain neutral, and whichever party gained the upper hand,\nit came home to her very closely. \"Oh!\" she often complained, \"if only\nthe one or the other of you had a little more patience!\"\n\nTired of a ceaseless open war I once hit upon a stratagem, which had a\ngood effect for a short time at least. I rose about midnight, took a\nlarge vessel of earthenware, crept with it under my mother-in-law's bed,\nand began to speak aloud into the vessel after the following\nfashion:--\"O Rissia, Rissia, you ungodly woman, why do you treat my\nbeloved son so ill? If you do not mend your ways, your end is near, and\nyou will be damned to all eternity.\" Then I crept out again, and began\nto pinch her cruelly; and after a while I slipped silently back to bed.\n\nThe following morning she got up in consternation, and told my wife,\nthat my mother had appeared to her in a dream, and had threatened and\npinched her on my account. In confirmation she showed the blue marks on\nher arm. When I came from the synagogue, I did not find my mother-in-law\nat home, but found my wife in tears. I asked the reason, but she would\ntell me nothing. My mother-in-law returned with dejected look, and eyes\nred with weeping. She had gone, as I afterwards learned, to the Jewish\nplace of burial, thrown herself on my mother's grave, and begged for\nforgiveness of her fault. She then had the burial place measured, and\nordered a wax-light as long as its circumference, for burning in the\nsynagogue. She also fasted the whole day, and towards me showed herself\nextremely amiable.\n\nI knew of course what was the cause of all this, but acted as if I did\nnot observe it, and rejoiced in secret over the success of my stratagem.\nIn this manner I had peace for some time, but unfortunately it did not\nlast long. The whole was soon forgotten again, and on the slightest\noccasion the dance went on as before. In short, I was soon afterwards\nobliged to leave the house altogether, and accept a position as a\nprivate tutor. Only on the great feast-days I used to come home.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nThe Secrets of the Marriage State--Prince Radzivil,[24] or what is not\nall allowed in Poland?\n\n\nIn my fourteenth year I had my eldest son, David. At my marriage I was\nonly eleven years old, and owing to the retired life common among people\nof our nation in those regions, as well as the want of mutual\nintercourse between the two sexes, I had no idea of the essential duties\nof marriage, but looked on a pretty girl as on any other work of nature\nor art, somewhat as on the pretty medicine-box that I stole. It was\ntherefore natural that for a considerable time after marriage I could\nnot have any thought about the fulfilment of its duties. I used to\napproach my wife with trembling as a mysterious object. It was therefore\nsupposed that I had been bewitched at the time of the wedding; and under\nthis supposition I was brought to a witch to be cured. She took in hand\nall sorts of operations, which of course had a good effect, although\nindirectly through the help of the imagination.\n\nMy life in Poland from my marriage to my emigration, which period\nembraces the springtime of my existence, was a series of manifold\nmiseries with a want of all means for the promotion of culture, and,\nnecessarily connected with that, an aimless application of my powers, in\nthe description of which the pen drops from my hands, and the painful\nmemories of which I strive to stifle.[25]\n\nThe general constitution of Poland at the time; the condition of our\npeople in it, who, like the poor ass with the double burden, are\noppressed by their own ignorance and the religious prejudices connected\ntherewith, as well as by the ignorance and prejudices of the ruling\nclasses; the misfortunes of my own family;--all these causes combined to\nhinder me in the course of my development, and to check the effect of my\nnatural disposition.\n\nThe Polish nation, under which I comprehend merely the Polish nobility,\nis of a very mixed kind. Only the very few have an opportunity of\nculture by means of upbringing, instruction, and well-directed travels,\nby which they can best promote at once their own welfare and that of\ntheir tenantry. Most of them, on the other hand, spend their lives in\nignorance and immorality, and become the sport of their extravagant\npassions, which are ruinous to their tenants. They make a display with\ntitles and orders, which they disgrace by their actions; they own many\nestates which they do not understand how to manage, and they are at\nperpetual feud with one another, so that the kingdom must of necessity\nbecome the prey of its neighbours, who are envious of its greatness.\n\nPrince Radzivil was, as Hettmann in Poland and Voivode in Lithuania, one\nof the greatest magnates, and as occupant of three inheritances in his\nfamily owned immense estates. He was not without a certain kindness of\nheart and good sense; but, through neglected training and a want of\ninstruction, he became one of the most extravagant princes that ever\nlived. From want of occupation, which was a necessary consequence of\nneglect in cultivating his tastes and widening his knowledge, he gave\nhimself up to drinking, by which he was tempted to the most ridiculous\nand insane actions. Without any particular inclination for it he\nabandoned himself to the most shameful sensuality; and without being\ncruel, he exercised towards his dependents the greatest cruelties.\n\nHe supported at great cost an army of ten thousand men, which was used\nfor no purpose in the world except display; and during the troubles in\nPoland he took, without knowing why, the part of the Confederates. By\nthis means he got himself encumbered with the friendship of the\nRussians, who plundered his estates, and plunged his tenants into the\ngreatest destitution and misery. He himself was obliged several times to\nflee from the country, and to leave as booty for his enemies treasures\nwhich had been the gathering of many generations.\n\nWho can describe all the excesses he perpetrated? A few examples will, I\nbelieve, be sufficient to give the reader some idea of them. A certain\nrespect for my former prince does not allow me to consider his faults as\nanything but faults of temperament and education, which deserve rather\nour pity than our hatred and contempt.\n\nWhen he passed through a street, which he commonly did with the whole\npomp of his court, his bands of music and soldiers, no man, at the peril\nof his life, durst show himself in the street; and even in the houses\npeople were by no means safe. The poorest, dirtiest peasant-woman, who\ncame in his way, he would order up into his carriage beside himself.\n\nOnce he sent for a respectable Jewish barber, who, suspecting nothing\nbut that he was wanted for some surgical operation, brought his\ninstruments with him, and appeared before the prince.\n\n\"Have you brought your instruments with you?\" he was asked.\n\n\"Yes, Serene Highness,\" he replied.\n\n\"Then,\" said the prince, \"give me a lancet, and I will open one of your\nveins.\"\n\nThe poor barber had to submit. The prince seized the lancet; and as he\ndid not know how to go about the operation, and besides his hand\ntrembled as a result of his hard drinking, of course he wounded the\nbarber in a pitiable manner. But his courtiers smiled their applause,\nand praised his great skill in surgery.\n\nHe went one day into a church, and being so drunk that he did not know\nwhere he was, he stood against the altar, and commenced to ----. All who\nwere present became horrified. Next morning when he was sober, the\nclergy brought to his mind the misdeed he had committed the day before.\n\"Eh!\" said the prince, \"we will soon make that good.\" Thereupon he\nissued a command to the Jews of the place, to provide at their own\nexpense, fifty stone of wax for burning in the church. The poor Jews\nwere therefore obliged to bring a sin-offering for the desecration of a\nChristian Church by an orthodox Catholic Christian.\n\nHe once took it into his head to drive on the wall round the town. But\nas the wall was too narrow for a coach with six horses,--and he never\ndrove in any other,--his hussars were obliged, with much labour and\nperil of their lives, to carry the coach with their hands till he had\ndriven round the town in this way.\n\nOnce he drove with the whole pomp of his court to a Jewish synagogue,\nand, without any one to this day knowing the reason, committed the\ngreatest havoc, smashed windows and stoves, broke all the vessels, threw\non the ground the copies of the Holy Scriptures kept in the ark, and so\nforth. A learned, pious Jew, who was present, ventured to lift one of\nthese copies from the ground, and had the honour of being struck with a\nmusket-ball by His Serene Highness' own hand. From here the train went\nto a second synagogue, where the same conduct was repeated, and from\nthere they proceeded to the Jewish burial-place, where the buildings\nwere demolished, and the monuments cast into the fire.\n\nCan it be conceived, that a prince could show himself so malicious\ntowards his own poor subjects, whom he was in a position to punish\nlegally whenever they really did anything amiss? Yet this is what\nhappened here.\n\nOn one occasion he took it into his head to make a trip to Mohilna, a\nhamlet belonging to him, which lay four short miles from his Residence.\nThis had to be done with his usual suite and all the pomp of his court.\nOn the morning of the appointed day the train went forth. First marched\nthe army in order according to its usual regimental\ndivisions,--infantry, artillery, cavalry, and so on. Then followed his\nbodyguard, Strelitzi, consisting of volunteers from the poor nobility.\nAfter them came his kitchen-waggons, in which Hungarian wine had not\nbeen forgotten. These were followed by the music of his janissaries, and\nother bands. Then came his coach, and last of all his satraps. I give\nthem this name, because I can compare this train with no other than that\nof Darius in the war against Alexander. Towards evening His Serene\nHighness arrived at our public house in the suburb of the town which was\nHis Serene Highness' Residence, Nesvij. I cannot say that he arrived in\nhis own high person, for the Hungarian wine had robbed him of all\nconsciousness, in which alone of course personality rests. He was\ncarried into the house and thrown with all his clothes, booted and\nspurred, on to my mother-in-law's dirty bed, without giving it a supply\nof clean linen.\n\nAs usual, I had to take to flight. My Amazons, however, I mean my\nmother-in-law and my wife, trusted to their heroic mettle, and remained\nat home alone. Riot went on the whole night. In the very room where His\nSerene Highness slept, wood was chopped, cooking and baking were done.\nIt was well known that, when His Serene Highness slept, nothing could\nwaken his high person except perhaps the trumpet of the Judgment-Day.\nThe next morning, when he wakened, and looked around, he scarcely knew\nwhether to trust his eyes, when he found himself in a wretched\npublic-house, thrown on to a dirty bed swarming with bugs. His valets,\npages, and negroes waited on his commands. He asked how he had come\nthere, and was answered, that His Serene Highness had yesterday\ncommenced a journey to Mohilna, but had halted here to take rest, that\nhis whole train had meanwhile gone on, and had undoubtedly arrived in\nMohilna by this time.\n\nThe journey to Mohilna was for the present given up, and the whole train\nordered back. They returned accordingly to the Residence in the usual\norder and pomp. But the prince was pleased to hold a great banquet in\nour public-house. All the foreign gentlemen, who happened to be in the\nplace at the time, were invited. The service used on the occasion was of\ngold, and it is impossible adequately to realise the contrast which\nreigned here in one house, between Asiatic splendour and Lappish\npoverty. In a miserable public-house, whose walls were black as coal\nwith smoke and soot, whose rafters were supported by undressed round\nstems of trees, whose windows consisted of some fragments of broken\npanes of bad glass, and small strips of pine covered with paper,--in\nthis house sat princes on dirty benches at a still dirtier table, and\nhad the choicest dishes and the finest wines served to them on gold\nplate.\n\nBefore the banquet the prince took a stroll with the other gentlemen in\nfront of the house, and by chance observed my wife. She was then in the\nbloom of her youth; and although I am now separated from her, still I\nmust do her the justice to allow that--leaving, of course, out of\naccount all that taste and art contribute to the heightening of a\nperson's charms, inasmuch as these had had no influence on her--she was\na beauty of the first rank. It was therefore natural that she should\nplease the prince. He turned to his companions, and said, \"Really a\npretty young woman! Only she ought to get a white chemise.\" This was a\ncommon signal with him, and meant as much as the throwing of a\nhandkerchief by the Grand Sultan. When these gentlemen therefore heard\nit, they became solicitous for the honour of my wife, and gave her a\nhint to clear out as fast as possible. She took the hint, slipped\nsilently out, and was soon over the hills and far away.\n\nAfter the banquet His Serene Highness proceeded again with the other\ngentlemen into town amid trumpets, kettle-drums, and the music of his\njanissaries. Then the usual order of the day was followed; that is, a\ncarousal was carried on the whole afternoon and evening, and then the\nparty went to a pleasure-house at the entrance to the prince's\nzoological garden, where fire-works were set off at great expense, but\nusually with accidents. As every goblet was drained, cannons were fired;\nbut the poor cannoneers, who knew better how to handle the plough than\nthe cannon, were not seldom injured. \"Vivat Kschondsie Radzivil,\" that\nis, \"Long live Prince Radzivil,\" shouted the guests. The palm in this\nBacchanalian sport was of course awarded to the prince; and those who\nawarded it were loaded by him with presents, not in perishable coin or\ngolden snuff-boxes or anything of that sort, but in real estate with\nmany hundred peasants. At the close a concert was given, during which\nHis Serene Highness fell gently asleep, and was carried to the castle.\n\nThe expenses of such extravagance were of course extorted from the poor\ntenantry. If this was not sufficient, debts were contracted, and estates\nsold to wipe them out. Not even the twelve golden statues in\nlife-size,--whether they represented the twelve apostles or the twelve\ngiants, I do not know,--nor the golden table which had been made for\nhimself, were spared on such emergencies. And thus the noble estates of\nthis great prince were diminished, his treasures which had accumulated\nduring many generations were exhausted, and his tenants----But I must\nbreak off.\n\nThe prince died not long ago without heirs of his body. His brother's\nson inherited the estates.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nEndeavour after mental Culture amid ceaseless Struggles with Misery of\nevery kind.\n\n\nBy means of the instruction received from my father, but still more by\nmy own industry, I had got on so well, that in my eleventh year I was\nable to pass as a full rabbi. Besides I possessed some disconnected\nknowledge in history, astronomy, and other mathematical sciences. I\nburned with desire to acquire more knowledge, but how was this to be\naccomplished in the want of guidance, of scientific books, and of all\nother means for the purpose? I was obliged therefore to content myself\nwith making use of any help that I could by chance obtain, without plan\nor method.\n\nIn order to gratify my desire of scientific knowledge, there were no\nmeans available but that of learning foreign languages. But how was I to\nbegin? To learn Polish or Latin with a Catholic teacher was for me\nimpossible, on the one hand because the prejudices of my own people\nprohibited to me all languages but Hebrew, and all sciences but the\nTalmud and the vast array of its commentators, on the other hand because\nthe prejudices of Catholics would not allow them to give instruction in\nthose matters to a Jew. Moreover I was in very low temporal\ncircumstances. I was obliged to support a whole family by teaching, by\ncorrecting proofs of the Holy Scriptures, and by other work of a similar\nkind. For a long time therefore I had to sigh in vain for the\nsatisfaction of my natural inclination.\n\nAt last a fortunate accident came to my help. I observed in some stout\nHebrew volumes, that they contained several alphabets, and that the\nnumber of their sheets was indicated not merely by Hebrew letters, but\nthat for this purpose the characters of a second and a third alphabet\nhad also been employed, these being commonly Latin and German letters.\nNow, I had not the slightest idea of printing. I generally imagined that\nbooks were printed like linen, and that each page was an impression from\na separate form. I presumed however that the characters, which stood in\nsimilar places, must represent one and the same letter, and as I had\nalready heard something of the order of the alphabet in these languages,\nI supposed that, for example, _a_, standing in the same place as\n_aleph_, must likewise be an aleph in sound. In this way I gradually\nlearnt the Latin and German characters.\n\nBy a kind of deciphering I began to combine various German letters into\nwords; but as the characters used along with the Hebrew letters might be\nsomething quite different from these, I remained always doubtful\nwhether the whole of my labour in this operation would not be in vain,\ntill fortunately some leaves of an old German book fell into my hand. I\nbegan to read. How great were my joy and surprise, when I saw from the\nconnection, that the words completely corresponded with those which I\nhad learned. 'Tis true, in my Jewish language many of the words were\nunintelligible; but from the connection I was still able, with the\nomission of these words, to comprehend the whole pretty well.[26]\n\nThis mode of learning by deciphering constitutes still my peculiar\nmethod of comprehending and judging the thoughts of others; and I\nmaintain that no one can say he understands a book, as long as he finds\nhimself compelled to deliver the thoughts of the author in the order and\nconnection determined by him, and with the expressions which he has\nused. This is a mere work of memory, and no man can flatter himself with\nhaving comprehended an author till he is roused by his thoughts, which\nhe apprehends at first but dimly, to reflect on the subject himself,\nand to work it out for himself, though it may be under the impulse of\nanother. This distinction between different kinds of understanding must\nbe evident to any man of discernment.--For the same reason also I can\nunderstand a book only when the thoughts which it contains harmonise\nafter filling up the gaps between them.\n\nI still always felt a want which I was not able to fill. I could not\ncompletely satisfy my desire of scientific knowledge. Up to this time\nthe study of the Talmud was still my chief occupation. With this however\nI found pleasure merely in view of its form, for this calls into action\nthe higher powers of the mind; but I took no interest in its matter. It\naffords exercise in deducing the remotest consequences from their\nprinciples, in discovering the most hidden contradictions, in hunting\nout the finest distinctions, and so forth. But as the principles\nthemselves have merely an imaginary reality, they cannot by any means\nsatisfy a soul thirsting after knowledge.\n\nI looked around therefore for something, by which I could supply this\nwant. Now, I knew that there is a so-called science, which is somewhat\nin vogue among the Jewish scholars of this district, namely the\nCabbalah, which professes to enable a man, not merely to satisfy his\ndesire of knowledge, but also to reach an uncommon perfection and\ncloseness of communion with God. Naturally therefore I burned with\ndesire for this science. As however it cannot, on account of its\nsacredness, be publicly taught, but must be taught in secret, I did not\nknow where to seek the initiated or their writings.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nI study the Cabbalah, and become at last a Physician.\n\n\nCabbalah,--to treat of this divine science somewhat more in\ndetail,--means, in the wider sense of the term, _tradition_; and it\ncomprehends, not only the occult sciences which may not be publicly\ntaught, but also the method of deducing new laws from the laws that are\ngiven in the Holy Scriptures, as also some fundamental laws which are\nsaid to have been delivered orally to Moses on Mount Sinai. In the\nnarrower sense of the term, however, Cabbalah means only the tradition\nof occult sciences. This is divided into _theoretical_ and _practical_\nCabbalah. The former comprehends the doctrines of God, of His attributes\nwhich are expressed by means of His manifold names, of the origin of the\nworld through a gradual limitation of His infinite perfection, and of\nthe relation of all things to His supreme essence. The latter is the\ndoctrine which teaches how to work upon nature at pleasure by means of\nthose manifold names of God, which represent various modes of working\nupon, and relations to, natural objects. These sacred names are\nregarded, not as merely arbitrary, but as _natural_ signs, so that all\nthat is done with these signs must have an influence on the object which\nthey represent.\n\nOriginally the Cabbalah was nothing but psychology, physics, morals,\npolitics, and such sciences, represented by means of symbols and\nhieroglyphs in fables and allegories, the occult meaning of which was\ndisclosed only to those who were competent to understand it. By and by,\nhowever, perhaps as the result of many revolutions, this occult meaning\nwas lost, and the signs were taken for the things signified. But as it\nwas easy to perceive that these signs necessarily had meant something,\nit was left to the imagination to invent an occult meaning which had\nlong been lost. The remotest analogies between signs and things were\nseized, till at last the Cabbalah degenerated into an art of _madness\naccording to method_, or a systematic science resting on conceits. The\nbig promise of its design, to work effects on nature at pleasure, the\nlofty strain and the pomp with which it announces itself, have naturally\nan extraordinary influence on minds of the visionary type, that are\nunenlightened by the sciences and especially by a thorough philosophy.\n\nThe principal work for the study of the Cabbalah is the _Zohar_, which\nis written in a very lofty style in the Syrian language. All other\nCabbalistic writings are to be regarded as merely commentaries on this,\nor extracts from it.\n\nThere are two main systems of the Cabbalah,--the system of Rabbi Moses\nKordovero, and that of Rabbi Isaac Luria.[27] The former is more _real_,\nthat is, it approximates more closely to reason. The latter, on the\nother hand, is more _formal_, that is, it is completer in the structure\nof its system. The modern Cabbalists prefer the latter, because they\nhold that only to be genuine Cabbalah, in which there is no rational\nmeaning. The principal work of Rabbi Moses Kordovero is the _Pardes_\n(Paradise). Of Rabbi Isaac Luria himself we have some disconnected\nwritings; but his pupil, Rabbi Chajim Vitall, wrote a large work under\nthe title, _Ez Chajim_ (The Tree of Life), in which the whole system of\nhis master is contained. This work is held by the Jews to be so sacred,\nthat they do not allow it to be committed to print. Naturally, I had\nmore taste for the Cabbalah of Rabbi Moses than for that of Rabbi Isaac,\nbut durst not give utterance to my opinion on this point.\n\nAfter this digression on the Cabbalah in general, I return to my story.\nI learned that the under-rabbi or preacher of the place was an adept in\nthe Cabbalah; and therefore, to attain my object, I made his\nacquaintance. I took my seat beside him in the synagogue, and as I\nobserved once that after prayer he always read from a small book, and\nthen put it past carefully in its place, I became very curious to know\nwhat sort of book this was. Accordingly, after the preacher had gone\nhome, I went and took the book from the place where he had put it; and\nwhen I found that it was a Cabbalistic work, I went with it and hid\nmyself in a corner of the synagogue, till all the people had gone out\nand the door was locked. I then crept from my hiding-place, and, without\na thought about eating or drinking the whole day long, read the\nfascinating book till the doorkeeper came and opened the synagogue again\nin the evening.\n\n_Shaarei Kedushah_, or _The Gates of Righteousness_, was the title of\nthis book; and, leaving out of account what was visionary and\nexaggerated, it contained the principal doctrines of psychology. I did\nwith it therefore as the Talmudists say Rabbi Me\u00efr acted, who had a\nheretic for his teacher, \"He found a pomegranate; he ate the fruit and\nthrew the peel away.\"[28]\n\nIn two or three days I had in this way finished the book; but instead of\nsatisfying my curiosity, it only excited it the more. I wished to read\nmore books of the same sort. But as I was too bashful to confess this to\nthe preacher, I resolved to write him a letter, in which I expressed my\nirresistible longing for this sacred science, and therefore entreated\nhim earnestly to assist me with books. I received from him a very\nfavourable answer. He praised my zeal for the sacred science, and\nassured me that this zeal, amid so little encouragement, was an obvious\nsign that my soul was derived from _Olam Aziloth_ (the world of the\nimmediate divine influence), while the souls of mere Talmudists take\ntheir origin from _Olam Jezirah_ (the world of the creation). He\npromised, therefore, to assist me with books as far as lay in his power.\nBut as he himself was occupied mainly with this science, and required to\nhave such books constantly at hand, he could not lend them to me, but\ngave me permission to study them in his house at my pleasure.\n\nWho was gladder than I! I accepted the offer of the preacher with\ngratitude, scarcely ever left his house, and sat day and night over the\nCabbalistic books. Two representations especially gave me the greatest\ntrouble. One was the _Tree_, or the representation of the divine\nemanations in their manifold and intricate complexities. The other was\nGod's _Beard_, in which the hairs are divided into numerous classes with\nsomething peculiar to each, and every hair is a separate channel of\ndivine grace. With all my efforts I could not find in these\nrepresentations any rational meaning.\n\nMy prolonged visits however were extremely inconvenient to the preacher.\nHe had, a short time before, married a pretty young wife; and as his\nmodest little house consisted of a single apartment, which was at once\nparlour, study, and bedroom, and as I sat in it at times reading the\nwhole night, it happened not infrequently that my elevation above the\nsphere of sense came into collision with his sensibility. Consequently,\nhe hit upon a good plan for getting rid of the incipient Cabbalist. He\nsaid to me one day, \"I observe that it necessarily puts you to a great\ndeal of inconvenience to spend your time constantly away from home for\nthe sake of these books. You may take them home with you one by one if\nyou please, and thus study them at your convenience.\"\n\nTo me nothing could be more welcome. I took home one book after\nanother, and studied them till I believed that I had mastered the whole\nof the Cabbalah. I contented myself not merely with the knowledge of its\nprinciples and manifold systems, but sought also to make a proper use of\nthese. There was not a passage to be met with in the Holy Scriptures or\nin the Talmud, the occult meaning of which I could not have unfolded,\naccording to Cabbalistic principles, with the greatest readiness.\n\nThe book entitled _Shaarei Orah_[29] came to be of very good service\nhere. In this book are enumerated the manifold names of the ten\n_Sephiroth_, which form the principal subject of the Talmud, so that a\nhundred or more names are given to each. In every word of a verse in the\nBible, or of a passage in the Talmud, I found therefore the name of some\nSephirah. But as I knew the attribute of every Sephirah, and its\nrelation to the rest, I could easily bring out of the combination of\nnames their conjoint effect.\n\nTo illustrate this by a brief example, I found in the book just\nmentioned, that the name _Jehovah_ represents the six highest Sephiroth\n(not including the first three), or the person of the Godhead _generis\nmasculini_, while the word _Koh_ means the _Shechinah_ or the person of\nthe Godhead _generis feminini_, and the word _amar_ denotes sexual\nunion. The words, \"Koh amar Jehova,\"[30] therefore, I explained in the\nfollowing way, \"Jehovah unites with the Shechinah,\" and this is high\nCabbalism. Accordingly, when I read this passage in the Bible, I thought\nnothing else, but that, when I uttered these words, and thought their\noccult meaning, an actual union of these divine spouses took place, from\nwhich the whole world had to expect a blessing. Who can restrain the\nexcesses of imagination, when it is not guided by reason?\n\nWith the _Cabbalah Maasith_, or the _practical Cabbalah_, I did not\nsucceed so well as with the theoretical. The preacher boasted, not\npublicly indeed, but to everybody in private, that he was master of this\nalso. Especially he professed _roeh veeno nireh_ (to see everything, but\nnot to be seen by others), that is, to be able to make himself\ninvisible.\n\nAbout this trick I was specially anxious, in order that I might practise\nsome wanton jokes on my comrades. More particularly I formed a plan for\nkeeping my ill-tempered mother-in-law in check by this means. I\npretended that my object was merely to do good, and guard against evil.\nThe preacher consented, but said at the same time, that on my part\ncertain preparations were required. Three days in succession I was to\nfeast, and every day to say some _Ichudim_. These are Cabbalistic forms\nof prayer, whose occult meaning aims at producing in the intellectual\nworld sexual unions, through means of which certain results are to be\nbrought about in the physical.\n\nI did everything with pleasure, made the conjuration which he had taught\nme, and believed with all confidence that I was now invisible. At once I\nhurried to the _Beth Hamidrash_, the Jewish academy, went up to one of\nmy comrades, and gave him a vigorous box on the ear. He however was no\ncoward, and returned the blow with interest. I started back in\nastonishment; I could not understand how he had been able to discover\nme, as I had observed with the utmost accuracy the instructions of the\npreacher. Still I thought I might, perhaps, unwittingly and\nunintentionally have neglected something. I resolved, therefore, to\nundertake the operation anew. This time, however, I was not going to\nventure on the test of a box on the ear; I went into the academy merely\nto watch my comrades as a spectator. As soon as I entered, however, one\nof them came up to me, and showed me a difficult passage in the Talmud,\nwhich he wished me to explain. I stood utterly confounded, and\ndisconsolate over the failure of my hopes.\n\nThereupon I went to the preacher, and informed him of my unsuccessful\nattempt. Without blushing, he replied quite boldly, \"If you have\nobserved all my instructions, I cannot explain this otherwise than by\nsupposing that you are unfit for being thus divested of the visibility\nof your body.\" With great grief, therefore, I was obliged to give up\nentirely the hope of making myself invisible.\n\nThis disappointed hope was followed by a new delusion. In the preface to\nthe _Book of Raphael_, which the angel of that name is said to have\ndelivered to our first father Adam at his banishment from paradise, I\nfound the promise, that whoever keeps the book in his house is thereby\ninsured against fire. It was not long, however, before a conflagration\nbroke out in the neighbourhood, when the fire seized my house too, and\nthe angel Raphael himself had to go up into heaven in this chariot of\nfire.\n\nUnsatisfied with the literary knowledge of this science, I sought to\npenetrate into its spirit; and as I perceived that the whole science, if\nit is to deserve this name, can contain nothing but the secrets of\nnature concealed in fables and allegories, I laboured to find out these\nsecrets, and thereby to raise my merely literary knowledge to a rational\nknowledge. This, however, I could accomplish only in a very imperfect\nmanner at the time, because I had yet very few ideas of the sciences in\ngeneral. Still, by independent reflection I hit upon many applications\nof this kind. Thus, for example, I explained at once the first instance\nwith which the Cabbalists commonly begin their science.\n\nIt is this. Before the world was created, the divine being occupied the\nwhole of infinite space alone. But God wished to create a world, in\norder that He might reveal those attributes of His nature which refer\nto other beings besides Himself. For this purpose He contracted Himself\ninto the centre of His perfection, and issued into the space thereby\nleft void ten concentric circles of light, out of which arose afterwards\nmanifold figures (_Parzophim_) and gradations down to the present world\nof sense.\n\nI could not in any way conceive that all this was to be taken in the\ncommon sense of the words, as nearly all Cabbalists represent it. As\nlittle could I conceive that, before the world had been created, a time\nhad past, as I knew from my _Moreh Nebhochim_, that time is a\nmodification of the world, and consequently cannot be thought without\nit. Moreover, I could not conceive that God occupies a space, even\nthough it be infinite; or that He, an infinitely perfect being, should\ncontract Himself, like a thing of circular form, into a centre.\n\nAccordingly I sought to explain all this in the following way. God is\nprior to the world, not in time, but in His necessary being as the\ncondition of the world. All things besides God must depend on Him as\ntheir cause, in regard to their essence as well as their existence. The\ncreation of the world, therefore, could not be thought as a bringing\nforth _out of nothing_, nor as a formation of something independent on\nGod, but only as a bringing forth _out of Himself_. And as beings are of\ndifferent grades of perfection, we must assume for their explanation\ndifferent grades of limitation of the divine being. But since this\nlimitation must be thought as extending from the infinite being down to\nmatter, we represent the beginning of the limitation in a figure as a\ncentre (the lowest point) of the Infinite.\n\nIn fact, the Cabbalah is nothing but an expanded Spinozism, in which not\nonly is the origin of the world explained by the limitation of the\ndivine being, but also the origin of every kind of being, and its\nrelation to the rest, are derived from a separate attribute of God. God,\nas the ultimate subject and the ultimate cause of all beings, is called\nEnsoph (the Infinite, of which, considered in itself, nothing can be\npredicated). But in relation to the infinite number of beings, positive\nattributes are ascribed to Him; these are reduced by the Cabbalists to\nten, which are called the ten Sephiroth.\n\nIn the book, _Pardes_, by Rabbi Moses Kordovero, the question is\ndiscussed, whether the Sephiroth are to be taken for the Deity Himself\nor not. It is easy to be seen, however, that this question has no more\ndifficulty in reference to the Deity, than in reference to any other\nbeing.\n\nUnder the ten circles I conceived the ten categories or predicaments of\nAristotle, with which I had become acquainted in the _Moreh\nNebhochim_,--the most universal predicates of things, without which\nnothing can be thought. The categories, in the strictest critical sense,\nare the logical forms, which relate not merely to a _logical_ object,\nbut to _real_ objects in general, and without which these cannot be\nthought. They have their source, therefore, in the subject itself, but\nthey become an object of consciousness only by reference to a real\nobject. Consequently, they represent the ten Sephiroth, which belong,\nindeed, to the Ensoph in itself, but of which the reality is revealed\nonly by their special relation to, and effect upon, objects in nature,\nand the number of which can be variously determined in various points of\nview.\n\nBut by this method of explanation I brought upon myself many an\nannoyance. For the Cabbalists maintain that the Cabbalah is not a human,\nbut a divine, science; and that, consequently, it would be degradation\nof it, to explain its mysteries in accordance with nature and reason.\nThe more reasonable, therefore, my explanations proved, the more were\nthe Cabbalists irritated with me, inasmuch as they held that alone to be\ndivine, which had no reasonable meaning. Accordingly I had to keep my\nexplanations to myself. An entire work, that I wrote on the subject, I\nbrought with me to Berlin, and preserve still as a monument of the\nstruggle of the human mind after perfection, in spite of all the\nhindrances which are placed in its way.\n\nMeanwhile this could not satisfy me. I wished to get an insight into the\nsciences, not as they are veiled in fables, but in their natural light.\nI had already, though very imperfectly, learned to read German; but\nwhere was I to obtain German books in Lithuania? Fortunately for me I\nlearned that the chief rabbi of a neighbouring town, who in his youth\nhad lived for a while in Germany, and learned the German language\nthere, and made himself in some measure acquainted with the sciences,\ncontinued still, though in secret, to work at the sciences, and had a\nfair library of German books.\n\nI resolved therefore to make a pilgrimage to S----, in order to see the\nchief rabbi, and beg of him a few scientific books. I was tolerably\naccustomed to such journeys, and had gone once thirty miles[31] on foot\nto see a Hebrew work of the tenth century on the Peripatetic philosophy.\nWithout therefore troubling myself in the least about travelling\nexpenses or means of conveyance, and without saying a word to my family\non the subject, I set out upon the journey to this town in the middle of\nwinter. As soon as I arrived at the place, I went to the chief rabbi,\ntold him my desire, and begged him earnestly for assistance. He was not\na little astonished; for, during the thirty one years which had passed\nsince his return from Germany, not a single individual had ever made\nsuch a request. He promised to lend me some old German books. The most\nimportant among these were an old work on Optics, and Sturm's _Physics_.\n\nI could not sufficiently express my gratitude to this excellent chief\nrabbi; I pocketed the few books, and returned home in rapture. After I\nhad studied these books thoroughly, my eyes were all at once opened. I\nbelieved that I had found a key to all the secrets of nature, as I now\nknew the origin of storms, of dew, of rain, and such phenomena. I looked\ndown with pride on all others, who did not yet know these things,\nlaughed at their prejudices and superstitions, and proposed to clear up\ntheir ideas on these subjects and to enlighten their understanding.\n\nBut this did not always succeed. I laboured once to teach a Talmudist,\nthat the earth is round, and that we have antipodes. He however made the\nobjection, that these antipodes would necessarily fall off. I\nendeavoured to show that the falling of a body is not directed towards\nany fixed point in empty space, but towards the centre of the earth, and\nthat the ideas of Over and Under represent merely the removal from and\napproach to this centre. It was of no avail; the Talmudist stood to his\nground, that such an assertion was absurd.\n\nOn another occasion I went to take a walk with some of my friends. It\nchanced that a goat lay in the way. I gave the goat some blows with my\nstick, and my friends blamed me for my cruelty. \"What is the cruelty?\" I\nreplied. \"Do you believe that the goat feels a pain, when I beat it? You\nare greatly mistaken; the goat is a mere machine.\" This was the doctrine\nof Sturm as a disciple of Descartes.\n\nMy friends laughed heartily at this, and said, \"But don't you hear that\nthe goat cries, when you beat it?\" \"Yes,\" I replied, \"of course it\ncries; but if you beat a drum, it cries too.\" They were amazed at my\nanswer, and in a short time it went abroad over the whole town, that I\nhad become mad, as I held that _a goat is a drum_.\n\nFrom my generous friend, the chief rabbi, I received afterwards two\nmedical works, Kulm's _Anatomical Tables_ and Voit's _Gaziopilatium_.\nThe latter is a large medical dictionary, containing, in a brief form,\nnot only explanations from all departments of medicine, but also their\nmanifold applications. In connection with every disease is given an\nexplanation of its cause, its symptoms, and the method of its cure,\nalong with even the ordinary prescriptions. This was for me a real\ntreasure. I studied the book thoroughly, and believed myself to be\nmaster of the science of medicine, and a complete physician.\n\nBut I was not going to content myself with mere theory in this matter; I\nresolved to make regular application of it. I visited patients,\ndetermined all diseases according to their circumstances and symptoms,\nexplained their causes, and gave also prescriptions for their cure. But\nin this practice things turned out very comically. If a patient told me\nsome of the symptoms of his disease, I guessed from them the nature of\nthe disease itself, and inferred the presence of the other symptoms. If\nthe patient said that he could trace none of these, I stubbornly\ninsisted on their being present all the same. The conversation therefore\nsometimes came to this:--\n\n_I._ \"You have headache also.\"\n\n_Patient._ \"No.\"\n\n_I._ \"But you _must_ have headache.\"\n\nAs many symptoms are common to several diseases, I took not infrequently\n_quid pro quo_. Prescriptions I could never keep in my head, so that,\nwhen I prescribed anything, I was obliged to go home first and turn up\nmy _Gaziopilatium_. At length I began even to make up drugs myself\naccording to Voit's prescriptions. How this succeeded, may be imagined.\nIt had at least this good result, that I saw something more was surely\nrequired for a practical physician than I understood at the time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nA brief Exposition of the Jewish Religion, from its Origin down to the\nmost recent Times.\n\n\nTo render intelligible that part of the story of my life, which refers\nto my sentiments regarding religion, I must first give in advance a\nshort practical _history of the Jewish religion_, and at the outset say\nsomething of the idea of _religion in general_, as well as of the\ndifference between _natural_ and _positive_ religion.\n\n_Religion in general_ is the expression of gratitude, reverence and the\nother feelings, which arise from the dependence of our weal and woe on\none or more powers to us unknown. If we look to the _expression of these\nfeelings in general_, without regard to the _particular mode of the\nexpression_, religion is certainly natural to man. He observes many\neffects which are of interest to him, but whose causes are to him\nunknown; and he finds himself compelled, by the universally recognised\n_Principle of Sufficient Reason_, to suppose these causes, and to\nexpress towards them the feelings mentioned.\n\nThis expression may be of two kinds, in conformity either with the\n_imagination_ or with _reason_. For either man imagines the causes to\nbe analogous to the effects, and ascribes to them in themselves such\nattributes as are revealed through the effects, or he thinks them merely\nas causes of certain effects, without seeking thereby to determine their\nattributes in themselves. These two modes are both natural to man, the\nformer being in accordance with his earlier condition, the latter with\nthat of his perfection.\n\nThe difference between these two modes of representation has as its\nconsequence another difference of religions. The first mode of\nrepresentation, in accordance with which the causes are supposed to be\n_similar_ to the effects, is the mother of _polytheism_ or _heathenism_.\nBut the second is the basis of _true_ religion. For as the kinds of\neffects are different, the causes also, if held to be like them, must be\nrepresented as different from one another. On the other hand, if, in\naccordance with truth, we conceive the idea of _cause in general_ for\nthese effects, without seeking to determine this cause, either _in\nitself_ (since it is wholly unknown), or _analogically_ by help of the\nimagination, then we have no ground for supposing several causes, but\nrequire to assume merely a single subject, wholly unknown, as cause of\nall these effects.\n\nThe different philosophical systems of theology are nothing but\n_detailed developments_ of these different modes of representation. The\n_atheistic_ system of theology, if so it may be called, rejects\naltogether this idea of a _first cause_, (as, according to the\n_critical_ system at least, it is merely of _regulative use_ as a\nnecessary _idea of reason_). All effects are referred to particular\nknown or unknown causes. In this there cannot be assumed even a\n_connection_ between the various effects, else the _reason_ of this\nconnection would require to be sought beyond the connection itself.\n\nThe _Spinozistic_ system, on the contrary, supposes one and the same\nsubstance as immediate cause of all various effects, which must be\nregarded as predicates of one and the same subject. _Matter_ and _mind_\nare, with Spinoza, one and the same substance, which appears, now under\nthe former, now under the latter attribute. This single substance is,\naccording to him, not only the sole being that can be _self-dependent_,\nthat is, independent of any external cause, but also the sole\n_self-subsistent_ being, all so-called beings besides it being merely\nits _modes_, that is, particular limitations of its attributes. Every\nparticular effect in nature is referred by him, not to its proximate\ncause (which is merely a _mode_), but immediately to this first cause,\nwhich is the common substance of all beings.\n\nIn this system _unity is real_, but _multiplicity_ is merely _ideal_. In\nthe atheistic system it is the opposite. _Multiplicity_ is _real_, being\nfounded on the _nature of things themselves_. On the other hand, the\n_unity_, which is observed in the order and regularity of nature, is\nmerely an _accident_, by which we are accustomed to determine our\n_arbitrary_ system _for the sake of knowledge_. It is inconceivable\ntherefore how any one can make out the Spinozistic system to be\natheistic, since the two systems are diametrically opposed to one\nanother. In the latter the existence of _God_ is denied, but in the\nformer the existence of the _world_. Spinoza's ought therefore to be\ncalled rather the _acosmic_ system.\n\nThe _Leibnitzian_ system holds the mean between the two preceding. In it\nall _particular effects_ are referred immediately to _particular\ncauses_; but these various effects are thought as _connected_ in a\nsingle system, and the cause of this connection is sought in a being\nbeyond itself.\n\n_Positive_ religion is distinguished from _natural_ in the very same way\nas the positive laws of a state from natural laws. The latter are those\nwhich rest on a self-acquired, indistinct knowledge, and are not duly\ndefined in regard to their application, while the former rest on a\ndistinct knowledge received from others, and are completely defined in\nregard to their application.\n\nA _positive_ religion however must be carefully distinguished from a\n_political_ religion. The former has for its end merely the correction\nand accurate definition of knowledge, that is, _instruction_ regarding\nthe first cause: and the knowledge is communicated to another, according\nto the measure of his capacity, just as it has been received. But the\nlatter has for its end mainly the welfare of the state. Knowledge is\ntherefore communicated, not just as it has been received, but only in so\nfar as it is found serviceable to this end. Politics, merely as\npolitics, requires to concern itself about _true religion_ as little as\nabout _true morality_. The injury, that might arise from this, can be\nprevented by other means which influence men at the same time, and thus\nall can be kept in equilibrium. Every political religion is therefore at\nthe same time positive, but every positive religion is not also\npolitical.\n\nNatural religion has no _mysteries_ any more than merely positive\nreligion. For there is no mystery implied in one man being unable to\ncommunicate his knowledge to another of defective capacity with the same\ndegree of completeness which he himself has attained; otherwise\nmysteries might be attributed to all the sciences, and there would then\nbe _mysteries of mathematics_ as well as _mysteries of religion_. Only\n_political religion_ can have mysteries, in order to lead men in an\nindirect way to the attainment of the _political end_, inasmuch as they\nare made to believe that thereby they can best attain their _private\nends_, though this is not always in reality the case. There are _lesser_\nand _greater_ mysteries in the political religions. The former consist\nin the _material_ knowledge of all particular operations and their\nconnection with one another. The latter, on the contrary, consist in the\nknowledge of the _form_, that is, of the end by which the former are\ndetermined. The former constitute the totality of the _laws of\nreligion_, but the latter contains the _spirit of the laws_.\n\nThe _Jewish religion_, even at its earliest origin among the nomadic\npatriarchs, is already distinguished from the _heathen_ as _natural\nreligion_, inasmuch as, instead of the _many comprehensible_ gods of\nheathenism, the _unity of an incomprehensible_ God lies at its\nfoundation. For as the particular causes of the effects, which in\ngeneral give rise to a religion, are in themselves unknown, and we do\nnot feel justified in transferring to the causes the attributes of the\nparticular effects, in order thereby to characterise them, there remains\nnothing but the idea of cause in general, which must be related to all\neffects without distinction. This cause cannot even be _analogically_\ndetermined by the effects. For the effects are opposed to one another,\nand neutralise each other even in the same object. If therefore we\nascribed them all to one and the same cause, the cause could not be\nanalogically determined by any.\n\nThe _heathen_ religion, on the other hand, refers every kind of effect\nto a special cause, which can of course be characterised by its effect.\nAs a _positive_ religion the Jewish is distinguished from the heathen by\nthe fact, that it is not a merely political religion, that is, a\nreligion which has for its end the social interest (in opposition to\ntrue knowledge and private interest); but in accordance with the spirit\nof its founder, it is adapted to the theocratic form of the national\nGovernment, which rests on the principle, that only the true religion,\nbased on rational knowledge, can harmonise with the interest of the\nstate as well as of the individual. Considered in its _purity_,\ntherefore, it has no mysteries in the proper sense of the word; that is\nto say, it has no doctrines which, in order to reach their end, men\n_will_ not disclose, but merely such as _can_ not be disclosed to all.\n\nAfter the fall of the Jewish state the religion was separated from the\nstate which no longer existed. The religious authorities were no longer,\nas they had been before, concerned about adapting the particular\ninstitutions of religion to the state; but their care went merely to\n_preserve_ the religion, on which the existence of the _nation_ now\ndepended. Moved by hatred towards those nations who had annihilated the\nstate, and from anxiety lest with the fall of the state the religion\nalso might fall, they hit upon the following means for the preservation\nand extension of their religion.\n\n1. The fiction of a method, handed down from Moses, of expanding the\nlaws, and applying them to particular cases. This method is not that\nwhich reason enjoins, of modifying laws according to their intention, in\nadaptation to time and circumstances, but that which rests upon certain\nrules concerning their literary expression.\n\n2. The legislative force ascribed to the new decisions and opinions\nobtained by this method, giving to them an equal rank with the ancient\nlaws. The subtle dialectic, with which this has been carried on down to\nour times, and the vast number of laws, customs and useless ceremonies\nof all sorts, which it has occasioned, may be easily imagined.\n\nThe history of the Jewish religion can, in consequence of this, be\nappropriately divided into five great epochs. The first epoch embraces\nthe _natural religion_, from the times of the patriarchs down to Moses\nat the exodus from Egypt. The second comprehends the _positive_ or\n_revealed_ religion, from Moses to the time of the _Great Synagogue_\n(_Keneseth Haggedolah_). This council must not be conceived as an\nassembly of theologians at a definite time; the name applies to the\ntheologians of a whole epoch from the destruction of the first temple to\nthe composition of the Mishnah. Of these the first were the _minor\nprophets_ (Haggai, Zachariah, Malachi, etc., of whom 120 are counted\naltogether), and the last was _Simon the Just_.[32] These, as well as\ntheir forerunners from the time of Joshua, took as their basis the\nMosaic laws, and added new laws according to time and circumstances, but\nin conformity with the traditional method, every dispute on the subject\nbeing decided by the _majority of voices_.\n\nThe third epoch extends from the composition of the Mishnah by Jehudah\nthe Saint[33] to the composition of the Talmud by Rabina and\nRabassi.[34] Down to this epoch it was forbidden to commit the laws to\nwriting, in order that they might not fall into the hands of those who\ncould make no use of them. But as Rabbi Jehudah Hanassi, or, as he is\notherwise called, Rabbenu Hakades observed, that, in consequence of\ntheir great multiplicity, the laws may easily fall into oblivion, he\ngave himself a licence to transgress a single one of the laws in order\nto preserve the whole. The law transgressed was that against committing\nthe laws to writing; and in this licence he defended himself by a\npassage in the Psalms, \"There are times, when a man shows himself\nwell-pleasing to God by transgressing the laws.\"[35] He lived in the\ntime of Antoninus Pius, was rich, and possessed all the faculties for\nsuch an undertaking. He therefore composed the Mishnah, in which he\ndelivers the Mosaic laws in accordance either with a traditional or with\na rational method of exposition. It contains also some laws which form\nthe subject of dispute.\n\nThis work is divided into six parts. The first contains the laws\nrelating to agriculture and horticulture; the second, those which refer\nto feasts and holidays. The third part comprehends the laws which define\nthe mutual relations of the two sexes (marriage, divorce, and such\nsubjects). The fourth part is devoted to the laws which deal with the\nteachers of the law; the fifth, to those which treat of the\ntemple-service and sacrifices; and the sixth, to the laws of\npurification.\n\nAs the Mishnah is composed with the greatest precision, and cannot be\nunderstood without a commentary, it was natural, that in course of time\ndoubts and disputes should arise, regarding the exposition of the\nMishnah itself, as well as the mode of its application to cases which it\ndoes not sufficiently determine. All these doubts and their manifold\nsolutions, controversies and decisions, were finally collected in the\nTalmud by the above-mentioned Rabina and Rabassi; and this forms the\nfourth epoch of Jewish legislation.\n\nThe fifth epoch begins with the conclusion of the Talmud, and extends\ndown to our time, and so on for ever (_si diis placet_) till the advent\nof the Messiah. Since the conclusion of the Talmud the rabbis have been\nby no means idle. 'Tis true, they dare not alter anything in the Mishnah\nor the Talmud; but they still have plenty of work to do. Their business\nis to explain those two works, so that they shall harmonise; and this is\nno small matter, for one rabbi, with a superfine dialectic, is always\nfinding contradictions in the explanations of another. They must also\ndisentangle, from the labyrinth of various opinions, expositions,\ncontroversies and decisions, the laws which are applicable to every\ncase; and finally for new cases, by inferences from those already known,\nthey must bring out new laws, hitherto left indeterminate in spite of\nall previous labours, and thus prepare a complete code of laws.\n\nIt is thus that a religion, in its origin _natural_ and _conformable to\nreason_, has been abused. A Jew dare not eat or drink, lie with his wife\nor attend to the wants of nature, without observing an enormous number\nof laws. With the books on the _slaughter_ of animals alone (the\ncondition of the knife and the examination of the entrails) a whole\nlibrary could be filled, which certainly would come near to the\nAlexandrian in extent. And what shall I say of the enormous number of\nbooks treating of those laws which are no longer in use, such as the\nlaws of sacrifice, of purification, etc.? The pen falls from my hand,\nwhen I remember that I and others like me were obliged to spend in this\nsoul-killing business the best days of our lives when the powers are in\ntheir full vigour, and to sit up many a night, to try and bring out some\nsense where there was none, to exercise our wits in the discovery of\ncontradictions where none were to be found, to display acuteness in\nremoving them where they were obviously to be met, to hunt after a\nshadow through a long series of arguments, and to build castles in the\nair.\n\nThe abuse of Rabbinism has, as will be seen, a twofold source.\n\n1. The first is an _artificial method_ of expounding the Holy\nScriptures, which distinguishes itself from the _natural_ method by the\nfact, that, while the latter rests on a thorough _knowledge of the\nlanguage_ and the true _spirit of the legislator_ in view of the\ncircumstances of the time, as these are known from history, the former\nhas been devised rather for the sake of the laws passed to meet existing\nemergencies. The rabbis look upon the Holy Scriptures, not only as the\nsource of the fundamental laws of Moses, and of those which are\ndeducible from these by a rational method, but also as a vehicle of the\nlaws to be drawn up by themselves according to the wants of the time.\nThe artificial method here, like every other of the same kind, is merely\na means of bringing the new laws at least into an _external connection_\nwith the old, in order that they may thereby find a better introduction\namong the people, be reduced to principles, divided into classes, and\ntherefore more easily impressed on the memory. No reasonable rabbi will\nhold, that the laws, which are referred in this way to passages of the\nHoly Scriptures, render the true sense of these passages; but if\nquestioned on this point, he will reply, \"These laws are necessities of\nthe time, and are referred to those passages merely for this reason.\"\n\n2. The second source of the abuse of Rabbinism is to be found in the\nmanners and customs of other nations, in whose neighbourhood the Jews\nhave lived, or among whom they have been gradually scattered since the\nfall of the Jewish state. These manners and customs they were obliged\nto adopt in order to avoid becoming objects of abhorrence. Of this sort\nare the laws, _not to uncover the head_ (at least in holy places and at\nholy ceremonies), _to wash the hands_ (before meals and prayers), to\nfast the whole day till sunset, to say a number of daily prayers, to\nmake pilgrimages, to walk round the altar, etc.,--all manifestly of\n_Arabian_ origin.\n\nFrom hatred also towards those nations that destroyed the Jewish state,\nand afterwards made the Jews undergo manifold oppressions, they have\nadopted various customs, and among others many religious usages which\nare opposite to those of the _Greeks_ and _Romans_.\n\nIn all this the rabbis had the Mosaic laws themselves for a model, these\nbeing sometimes in agreement, sometimes in hostility, with the Egyptian\nlaws which lie at their root, as has been shown in the most thorough\nmanner by the celebrated Maimonides in his work, _Moreh Nebhochim_.\n\nIt is remarkable, that, with all rabbinical extravagancies in the\n_practical_ department, namely the laws and customs, the _theoretical_\ndepartment of the Jewish theology has still always preserved itself in\nits purity. Eisenmenger may say what he will, it may be shown by\nunanswerable arguments, that all the limited figurative representations\nof God and His attributes have their source merely in an endeavour to\nadapt the ideas of theology to the common understanding. The rabbis\nfollowed in this the principle which they had established in reference\nto the Holy Scriptures themselves, namely, that _the Holy Scriptures use\nthe language of the common people_, inasmuch as religious and moral\nsentiments and actions, which form the immediate aim of theology may in\nthis manner be most easily extended. They therefore represent God to the\ncommon understanding as an earthly King, who with His ministers and the\nadvisers of His cabinet, the angels, takes counsel concerning the\ngovernment of the world. But for the educated mind they seek to take\naway all anthropomorphic representations of God, when they say, \"It was\nan act of high daring on the part of the prophets, to represent the\nCreator as like His creature, as when, for example, it is said in\nEzekiel (i., 26), 'And upon the throne was an appearance like man.'\"\n\nI have disclosed the abuses of the rabbis in regard to religion without\nany partiality. At the same time however I must not be silent about\ntheir good qualities, but do them justice as impartially. Compare then\nMahomed's description of the reward of the pious with the rabbinical\nrepresentation. The former runs:--\"Here (in paradise) there are as many\ndishes as there are stars in heaven. Maidens and boys fill the cups, and\nwait on the table. The beauty of the maidens surpasses all imagination.\nIf one of these maidens were to appear in the sky or in the air by\nnight, the world would become as bright as when the sun is shining; and\nif she were to spit into the sea, its salt water would be turned into\nhoney, and its bitter into sweet. Milk, honey, white wine will be the\nrivers which water this delicious abode. The slime of these rivers will\nbe made of sweet-smelling nutmegs, and their pebbles of pearls and\nhyacinths. The angel Gabriel will open the gates of paradise to faithful\nMusselmans. The first thing to meet their eyes will be a table of\ndiamonds of such enormous length, that it would require 70,000 days to\nrun round it. The chairs, which stand around the table, will be of gold\nand silver, the tablecloths of silk and gold. When the guests have sat\ndown, they will eat the choicest dishes of paradise, and drink its\nwater. When they are satisfied, beautiful boys will bring them _green_\ngarments of costly stuff, and necklaces and earrings of gold. To every\none will then be given a citron; and when he has brought it to his nose\nto feel its odour, a maiden of enchanting beauty will come out. Every\none will embrace his own with rapture, and this intoxication of love\nwill last fifty years without interruption. Each couple will obtain an\nenchanting palace for a dwelling, where they will eat and drink and\nenjoy all sorts of pleasure for ever and ever.[36]\" This description is\nbeautiful; but how sensuous! The rabbis, on the other hand, say, \"Above\n(in the blessed abode of the pious) there is neither eating nor\ndrinking, but the pious sit crowned, and delight themselves with the\nvision of the Godhead.\"\n\nEisenmenger seeks, in his _Entdecktes Judenthum_ (Theil 1., Kap. 8), by\na crass exposition to throw ridicule on the Platonic doctrine of\nreminiscence, which the rabbis maintain; but what may not be made\nridiculous in the same way? He also makes sport, with equal injustice,\nof other rabbinical teachings. With the Stoics, for example, the rabbis\ncall wise men _Kings_; they say, that God does nothing without\npreviously taking counsel with his angels, that is, Omnipotence works\nupon nature not immediately, but by means of the natural forces; they\nteach, that everything is predestined by God, except the practice of\nvirtue. These are the subjects of Eisenmenger's mockery; but does any\nreasonable theologian find in these anything ridiculous or impious? I\nshould be obliged to write a whole book, if I were to answer all the\nunjust charges and jeers which have been brought against the Talmudists,\nnot by Christian writers alone, but even by Jews who wished to pass for\n_illuminati_.\n\nTo be just to the rabbis it is necessary to penetrate into the true\nspirit of the Talmud, to become thoroughly familiar with the manner in\nwhich the ancients generally, but especially the Orientals, deliver\ntheological, moral, and even physical truths in fables and allegories,\nto become familiar also with the style of Oriental hyperbole in\nreference to everything that can be of interest to man. Moreover, the\nrabbis should be treated in the spirit in which they themselves excused\nRabbi Me\u00efr who had a heretic for his teacher,--the spirit expressed in a\npassage already quoted. If justice is thus dealt to the rabbis, the\nTalmud will certainly not show all the absurdities which its opponents\nare disposed too readily to find.\n\nThe rabbinical method of referring theoretical or practical truths, even\nby the oddest exegesis, to passages in the Holy Scriptures or any other\nbook in general esteem, as if they were truths brought out of such\npassages by a rational exegesis,--this method, besides procuring an\nintroduction for the truths among common men, who are not capable of\ngrasping them on their own merits, and accept them merely on authority,\nis also to be regarded as an excellent aid to the memory; for since, as\npresumed, these passages are in everybody's mouth, the truths drawn from\nthem are also retained by their means. Consequently it very often occurs\nin the Talmud, when the question concerns the deduction of a new law\nfrom the Holy Scriptures, that one rabbi derives the law from this or\nthat passage, while another brings the objection, that this cannot be\nthe true meaning of the passage, inasmuch as the true meaning is this or\nthat. To such an objection every one is wont to reply, that it is a new\nlaw of the rabbis, who merely refer it to the passage mentioned.\n\nAs it is therefore universally presupposed that this method is familiar,\nthe Talmudists regard it as unnecessary to inculcate it anew on every\noccasion. A single example will suffice to illustrate this. One\nTalmudist asked another the meaning of the following passage in the\nBook of Joshua (xv., 22), _Kinah Vedimonah Veadadah_.[37] The latter\nreplied, \"Here are enumerated the then familiar places of the Holy\nLand.\" \"Of course!\" rejoined the other. \"I know very well that these are\nnames of places. But, Rabbi ---- knows how to bring out of these,\nbesides the proper meaning, something _useful_, namely this:--'(Kinah)\nHe to whom his neighbour gives occasion for revenge, (Vedimonah) and who\nyet, out of generosity, keeps silence, taking no revenge, (Veadadah) to\nhim will the Eternal execute justice.'\" What a fine opportunity this\nwould be for laughing at the poor Talmudist, who derives a moral\nsentence from particular names of places, and besides makes in an\nextraordinary manner a compound out of the last name, _Sansannah_,[38]\nif he had not himself explained that he is seeking to know, not the\n_true meaning_ of the passage, but merely a _doctrine_ which may be\nreferred to it.\n\nAgain, the Talmudists have referred to a passage in Isaiah the important\ndoctrine, that in morals the principal object is, not theory, but\npractice, by which theory receives its true value. The passage runs as\nfollows:--\"The expectation of thy happiness\"--that is, the happiness\npromised by the prophet--\"will have for its consequence strength, help,\nwisdom, knowledge, and the fear of God.\"[39] Here they refer the first\nsix subjects to the six _Sedarim_ or divisions of the Mishnah, which are\nthe foundation of all Jewish learning. _Emunath_ (Expectation) is Seder\nSeraim; _Etecho_ (Happiness) is Seder Moad, and so on. That is to say,\nyou may be ever so well versed in all these six _sedarim_; yet the main\npoint is the last, the fear of God.\n\nAs far as rabbinical morals in other respects are concerned, I know in\ntruth nothing that can be urged against them, except perhaps their\nexcessive strictness in many cases. They form in fact genuine Stoicism,\nbut without excluding other serviceable principles, such as perfection,\nuniversal benevolence, and the like. Holiness with them extends even to\nthe thoughts. This principle is, in the usual fashion, referred to the\nfollowing passage in the Psalms, \"Thou shalt have no strange God in\nthee\";[40] for in the human heart, it is argued, no strange God can\ndwell, except evil desires. It is not allowed to deceive even a heathen\neither by deeds or by words--not even in cases where he could lose\nnothing by the deceit. For example, the common form of courtesy, \"I am\nglad to see you well,\" is not to be used, if it does not express the\nreal sentiments of the heart. The examples of Jews who cheat Christians\nand heathens, which are commonly adduced against this statement, prove\nnothing, inasmuch as these Jews do not act in accordance with the\nprinciples of their own morals.\n\nThe commandment, \"Thou shalt not covet anything that is thy\nneighbour's,\" is so expounded by the Talmudists, that we must guard\nagainst even the wish to possess any such thing. In short, I should\nrequire to write a whole book, if I were to adduce all the excellent\ndoctrines of rabbinical morals.\n\nThe influence of these doctrines in practical life also is unmistakable.\nThe Polish Jews, who have always been allowed to adopt any means of\ngain, and have not, like the Jews of other countries, been restricted to\nthe pitiful occupation of _Schacher_ or usurer, seldom hear the reproach\nof cheating. They remain loyal to the country in which they live, and\nsupport themselves in an honourable way.\n\nTheir charity and care for the poor, their institutions for nursing the\nsick, their special societies for burial of the dead, are well enough\nknown. It is not nurses and grave-diggers _hired for money_, but the\n_elders of the people_, who are eager to perform these acts. The Polish\nJews are indeed for the most part not yet enlightened by science, their\nmanners and way of life are still rude; but they are loyal to the\nreligion of their fathers and the laws of their country. They do not\ncome before you with courtesies, but their promise is sacred. They are\nnot gallants, but your women are safe from any snares with them. Woman,\nindeed, after the manner of the Orientals in general, is by them not\nparticularly esteemed; but all the more on that account are they\nresolved on fulfilling their duties towards her. Their children do not\nlearn by heart any _forms_ for expressing love and respect for their\nparents--for they do not keep French _demoiselles_;--but they show that\nlove and respect all the more heartily.\n\nThe sacredness of their marriages, and the ever fresh tenderness which\narises from this, deserve especially to be mentioned. Every month the\nhusband is wholly separated from his wife for a fortnight (the period of\nmonthly purification in accordance with the rabbinical laws); they may\nnot so much as touch one another, or eat out of the same dish or drink\nout of the same cup. By this means satiety is avoided; the wife\ncontinues to be in the eyes of her husband all that she was as maiden in\nthe eyes of her lover.\n\nFinally, what innocence rules among unmarried persons! It often happens\nthat a young man or woman of sixteen or eighteen years is married\nwithout knowing the least about the object of marriage. Among other\nnations this is certainly very seldom the case.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nJewish Piety and Penances.\n\n\nIn my youth I was of a somewhat strong religious disposition; and as I\nobserved in most of the rabbis a good deal of pride, quarrelsomeness,\nand other evil qualities, they became objects of dislike to me on that\naccount. I sought therefore as my model only those among them, who are\ncommonly known by the name of _Chasidim_, or _the Pious_. These are they\nwho devote the whole of their lives to the strictest observances of the\nlaws and moral virtues. I had afterwards occasion to remark that these\non their part do harm, less indeed to _others_, but all the more to\n_themselves_, inasmuch as they root out the wheat with the tares;[41]\nwhile they seek to suppress their desires and passions, they suppress\nalso their powers and cramp their activity, so much so as in most cases\nby their exercises to bring upon themselves an untimely death.\n\nTwo or three instances, of which I was myself an eye-witness, will be\nsufficient to establish what has been said. A Jewish scholar, at that\ntime well known on account of his piety, Simon of Lubtsch, had undergone\nthe severest exercises of penance. He had already carried out the\n_T'shubath Hakana_--the penance of Kana--which consists in fasting daily\nfor six years, and avoiding for supper anything that comes from a living\nbeing (flesh, milk, honey, etc.). He had also practised _Golath_, that\nis, a continuous wandering, in which the penitent is not allowed to\nremain two days in the same place; and, in addition, he had worn a\nhair-shirt next his skin. But he felt that he would not be doing enough\nfor the satisfaction of his conscience unless he further observed the\n_T'shubath Hamishkal_--the penance of weighing--which requires a\nparticular form of penance proportioned to every sin. But as he found by\ncalculation, that the number of his sins was too great to be atoned in\nthis way, he took it into his head to starve himself to death. After he\nhad spent some time in this process, he came in his wanderings to the\nplace where my father lived, and, without anybody in the house knowing,\nwent into the barn, where he fell upon the ground in utter faintness. My\nfather came by chance into the barn, and found the man, whom he had long\nknown, lying half-dead on the ground, with a _Zohar_ (the principal book\nof the Cabbalists) in his hand. As he knew well what sort of man this\nwas, he brought him at once all sorts of refreshments; but the man would\nmake no use of them in any way. My father came several times, and\nrepeated his urgent request, that Simon would take something; but it\nwas of no avail. My father had to attend to something in the house,\nwhereupon Simon, to escape from his importunity, exerted all his\nstrength, raised himself up, went out of the barn, and at last out of\nthe village. When my father came back into the barn again, and found the\nman no longer there, he ran after him, and found him lying dead not far\nfrom the village. The affair was generally made known among the Jews,\nand Simon became a saint.\n\nJossel of Klezk proposed nothing less than to hasten the advent of the\nMessiah. To this end he performed strict penance, fasted, rolled himself\nin snow, undertook night-watches and similar severities. By all sorts of\nsuch operations he believed that he was able to accomplish the overthrow\nof a legion of evil spirits, who kept guard on the Messiah, and threw\nobstacles in the way of his coming.[42] To these exercises he added at\nlast many Cabbalistic fooleries--fumigations, conjurations, and similar\npractices--till at length he lost his wits on the subject, believed that\nhe really saw spirits with his eyes open, calling each of them by name.\nHe would then beat about him, smash windows and stoves under the idea\nthat these were his foes, the evil spirits, somewhat after the manner of\nhis forerunner Don Quixote. At last he lay down in complete exhaustion,\nfrom which he was with great difficulty restored, by the physician of\nPrince Radzivil.\n\nUnfortunately I could never get further in pious exercises of this sort,\nthan to abstain for a considerable while from everything that comes from\na living being; and during the Days of Atonement I have sometimes fasted\nthree days together. I once resolved indeed on undertaking the\n_T'shubath Hakana_; but this project, like others of the same sort,\nremained unfulfilled, after I had adopted the opinions of Maimonides,\nwho was no friend of fanaticism or pietism. It is remarkable, that at\nthe time when I still observed the rabbinical regulations with the\nutmost strictness, I yet would not observe certain ceremonies which have\nsomething comical about them. Of this kind, for example, was the\n_Malketh_ (Beating) before the Great Day of Atonement, in which every\nJew lays himself on his face in the synagogue, while another with a\nnarrow strip of leather gives him thirty-nine lashes. Of the same sort\nis _Haphorath Nedarim_, or the act of setting free from vows on New\nYear's Eve. In this three men are seated, while another appears before\nthem, and addresses to them a certain form, the general drift of which\nis as follows:--\"Sirs, I know what a heinous sin it is, not to fulfil\nvows; and inasmuch as I have doubtless this year made some vows which I\nhave not fulfilled, and which I can no longer recollect, I beg of you\nthat you will set me free from the same. I do not indeed repent of the\ngood resolutions to which I have bound myself by these vows; I repent\nmerely of the fact, that in making such resolutions I did not add, that\nthey were not to have the force of a vow,\" etc., etc. Thereupon he\nwithdraws from the judgment-seat, pulls off his shoes, and sits down on\nthe bare ground, by which he is supposed to banish himself till his vows\nare dissolved. After he has sat for some time, and said a prayer by\nhimself, the judges begin to call aloud, \"Thou art our brother! thou art\nour brother! thou art our brother! There is no vow, no oath, no\nbanishment any longer, after thou hast submitted thyself to the\njudgment. Rise from the ground and come to us!\" This they repeat three\ntimes, and with that the man is at once set free from all his vows.\n\nAt serio-comic scenes of this sort I could only with the greatest\ndifficulty refrain from laughing. A blush of shame came over me, when I\nwas to undertake such performances. I sought therefore, if I was pressed\non the subject, to free myself by the pretext, that I had either already\nattended to it, or was going to attend to it, in another synagogue. A\nvery remarkable psychological phenomenon! It might be thought impossible\nfor any one to be ashamed of actions which he saw others performing\nwithout the slightest blush of shame. Yet this was the case here. This\nphenomenon can be explained only by the fact, that in all my actions I\nhad regard first to the nature of the action in itself (whether it was\nright or wrong, proper or improper), then to its nature in relation to\nsome end, and that I justified it as a means, only when it was not in\nitself incapable of being justified. This principle was developed\nafterwards in my whole system of religion and morals. On the other hand,\nthe most of men act on the principle, that the end justifies the means.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nFriendship and Enthusiasm.\n\n\nIn the place where I resided I had a bosom friend, Moses Lapidoth by\nname. We were of the same age, the same studies, and nearly the same\nexternal circumstances, the only difference being, that at an early\nperiod I already showed an inclination to the sciences, while Lapidoth\nhad indeed a love of speculation, and also great acuteness and power of\njudgment, but had no wish to proceed further than he could reach by a\nmere sound common sense. With this friend I used to hold many a\nconversation on subjects of mutual interest, especially the questions of\nreligion and morals.\n\nWe were the only persons in the place, who ventured to be not mere\nimitators, but to think independently about everything. It was a natural\nresult of this, that, as we differed from all the rest of the community\nin our opinions and conduct, we separated ourselves from them by\ndegrees; but, as we had still to live by the community, our\ncircumstances on this account became every day worse and worse. 'Tis\ntrue, we noted this fact, but nevertheless we were unwilling to\nsacrifice our favourite inclinations for any interest in the world. We\nconsoled ourselves therefore, as best we might, over our loss, spoke\nconstantly of the vanity of all things, of the religious and moral\nfaults of the common herd, upon whom we looked down with a sort of noble\npride and contempt.\n\nWe used especially to open our minds, _\u00e0 la Mandeville_, on the\nhollowness of human virtue. For example, smallpox had been very\nprevalent in the place, and thereby many children had been carried off.\nThe elders held a meeting to find out the secret sins, on account of\nwhich they were suffering this punishment, as they viewed it. After\ninstituting an inquiry it was found, that a young widow of the Jewish\npeople was holding too free intercourse with some servants of the manor.\nShe was sent for, but no sort of inquisition could elicit from her\nanything beyond the fact, that these people were in the habit of\ndrinking mead at her house, and that, as was reasonable, she received\nthem in a pleasant and polite manner, but that in other respects she was\nunconscious of any sin in the matter. As no other evidence was\nforthcoming, she was about to be acquitted, when an elderly matron came\nflying like a fury and screamed, \"Scourge her! scourge her! till she has\nconfessed her sin! If you do not do it, then may the guilt of the death\nof so many innocent souls fall upon you!\" Lapidoth was present with me\nat this scene, and said, \"Friend, do you suppose that Madam is making so\nfierce a complaint against this woman, merely because she is seized\nwith a holy zeal and feeling for the general welfare? Oh no! She is\nenraged, merely because the widow still possesses attractions, while she\nherself can no longer make claim to any.\" I assured him that his opinion\nwas thoroughly in accordance with my own.\n\nLapidoth had poor parents-in-law. His father-in-law was Jewish sexton,\nand by his slender pay could support his family only in a very sorry\nstyle. Every Friday the poor man was therefore compelled to listen to\nall sorts of reproach and abuse from his wife, because he could not\nprovide her with what was indispensable for the holy Sabbath. Lapidoth\ntold me about this with the addition:--\"My mother-in-law wants to make\nme to believe that she is zealous merely for the honour of the holy\nSabbath. Nay, verily; she is zealous merely for the honour of her own\nholy paunch, which she cannot fill as she would like; the holy Sabbath\nserves her merely as a pretext.\"\n\nOnce when we were taking a walk on the wall round the town, and\nconversing about the tendency of men, which is evinced in such\nexpressions, to deceive themselves and others, I said to Lapidoth,\n\"Friend, let us be fair, and pass our censure on ourselves, as well as\non others. Is not the contemplative life which we lead, and which is by\nno means adapted to our circumstances, to be regarded as a result of our\nindolence and inclination to idleness, which we seek to defend by\nreflections on the vanity of all things? We are content with our\npresent circumstances; why? Because we cannot alter them without first\nfighting against our inclination to idleness. With all our pretence of\ncontempt for everything outside of us, we cannot avoid the secret wish\nto be able to enjoy better food and clothing than at present. We\nreproach our friends as vain men addicted to the pleasures of sense,\nbecause they have abandoned our mode of life, and undertaken occupations\nadapted to their powers. But wherein consists our superiority over them,\nwhen we merely follow our inclination as they follow theirs? Let us seek\nto find this superiority merely in the fact, that we at least confess\nthis truth to ourselves, while they profess as the motive of their\nactions, not the satisfaction of their own particular desires, but the\nimpulse to general utility.\" Lapidoth, on whom my words produced a\npowerful impression, answered with some warmth, \"Friend, you are\nperfectly right. If we cannot now mend our faults, we will not deceive\nourselves about them, but at least keep the way open for amendment.\"\n\nIn conversations of this kind we two cynics spent our pleasantest hours,\nwhile we made ourselves merry sometimes at the expense of the world,\nsometimes at our own. Lapidoth, for example, whose old dirty clothes had\nall fallen into rags, and one of whose sleeves was wholly parted from\nthe rest of his coat, while he was not in a position even to have it\nmended, used to fix the sleeve on his back with a pin, and to ask me,\n\"Don't I look like a _Schlachziz_ (a Polish noble)?\" I, again, could\nnot sufficiently commend my rent shoes, which were quite open at the\ntoes, because, as I said, \"They do not squeeze the foot.\"\n\nThe harmony of our inclinations and manner of life, along with some\ndifference in our talents, made our conversation all the more agreeable.\nI had more talent for the sciences, made more earnest endeavours after\nthoroughness and accuracy of knowledge than Lapidoth. He, on the other\nhand, had the advantage of a lively imagination, and consequently more\ntalent for eloquence and poetry than I. If I produced a new thought, my\nfriend knew how to illustrate it, and, as it were, to give it embodiment\nin a multitude of examples. Our affection for one another went so far,\nthat, whenever it was practicable, we spent day and night in each\nother's company, and the first thing we did, on returning home from the\nplaces where we severally acted as family-tutors, was to visit each\nother, even before seeing our own families. At last we began to neglect\non this account the usual hours of prayer. Lapidoth first undertook to\nprove, that the Talmudists themselves offered up their prayers, not\nexclusively in the synagogue, but sometimes in their study-chambers.\nAfterwards he pointed out also, that the prayers held to be necessary\nare not all equally so, but that some may be dispensed with altogether:\neven those, which are recognised as necessary, we curtailed by degrees,\ntill at last they were totally neglected.\n\nOnce, when we went for a walk on the wall during the hour of prayer,\nLapidoth said to me, \"Friend, what is going to become of us? We do not\npray now at all.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" I inquired.\n\n\"I throw myself,\" said Lapidoth, \"on the mercy of God, who certainly\nwill not punish his children severely for a slight neglect.\"\n\n\"God is not merely _merciful_,\" I replied; \"He is also _just_.\nConsequently this reason cannot help us much.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" asked Lapidoth.\n\nI had by this time obtained from Maimonides more accurate ideas of God\nand of our duties towards Him. Accordingly I replied, \"Our destination\nis merely the _attainment of perfection through the knowledge of God and\nthe imitation of His actions_. Prayer is simply the expression of our\nknowledge of the divine perfections, and, as a result of this knowledge,\nis intended merely for the common man who cannot of himself attain to\nthis knowledge; and therefore it is adapted to his mode of conception.\nBut as we see into the end of prayer, and can attain to this end\ndirectly, we can dispense altogether with prayer as something\nsuperfluous.\"\n\nThis reasoning appeared to us both to be sound. We resolved therefore,\nfor the purpose of avoiding offence, to go out of the house every\nmorning with our _Taleth_ and _Tephilim_ (Jewish instruments of prayer),\nnot, however, to the synagogue, but to our favourite retreat, the wall,\nand by this means we fortunately escaped the Jewish Inquisition.\n\nBut this enthusiastic companionship, like everything else in the world,\nhad to come to an end. As we were both married, and our marriages were\ntolerably fruitful, we were obliged, for the purpose of supporting our\nfamilies, to accept situations as family-tutors. By this means we were\nnot infrequently separated, and afterwards were able to spend merely a\nfew weeks in the year together.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nThe Life of a Family-Tutor.\n\n\nThe place, where I first occupied the position of family-tutor, was at\nthe distance of a league from my residence. The family was that of a\nmiserable farmer in a still more miserable village; and my salary was\nfive thalers in Polish money. The poverty, ignorance, and rudeness in\nthe manner of life, which prevailed in this house, were indescribable.\nThe farmer himself was a man of about fifty years, the whole of whose\nface was overgrown with hair, ending in a dirty, thick beard as black as\npitch. His language was a sort of muttering, intelligible only to the\nboors, with whom he held intercourse daily. Not only was he ignorant of\nHebrew, but he could not speak a word of Jewish; his only language was\nRussian, the common patois of the peasantry. His wife and children were\nof the same stamp. Moreover, the apartment, in which they lived, was a\nhovel of smoke, black as coal inside and out, without a chimney, but\nwith merely a small opening in the roof for the exit oi the smoke,--an\nopening which was carefully closed as soon as the fire was allowed to go\nout, so that the heat might not escape.\n\nThe windows were narrow strips of pine laid crosswise over each other,\nand covered with paper. This apartment served at once for sitting,\ndrinking, eating, study and sleep. Think of this room intensely heated,\nand the smoke, as is generally the case in winter, driven back by wind\nand rain till the whole place is filled with it to suffocation. Here\nhang a foul washing and other dirty bits of clothing on poles laid\nacross the room in order to kill the vermin with the smoke. There hang\nsausages to dry, while their fat keeps constantly trickling down on the\nheads of people below. Yonder stand tubs with sour cabbage and red\nbeets, which form the principal food of the Lithuanians. In a corner the\nwater is kept for daily use, with the dirty water alongside. In this\nroom the bread is kneaded, cooking and baking are done, the cow is\nmilked, and all sorts of operations are carried on.\n\nIn this magnificent dwelling the peasants sit on the bare ground; you\ndare not sit higher if you do not wish to be suffocated with the smoke.\nHere they guzzle their whiskey and make an uproar, while the people of\nthe house sit in a corner. I usually took my place behind the stove with\nmy dirty half-naked pupils, and expounded to them out of an old tattered\nBible, from Hebrew into Russian Jewish. All this together made such a\nsplendid group as deserved to be sketched only by a Hogarth, and to be\nsung only by a Butler.\n\nIt may be easily imagined, how pitiable my condition here must have\nbeen. Whiskey had to form my sole comfort; it made me forget all my\nmisery. This was increased by the fact, that a regiment of Russians, who\nwere rioting at that time with every conceivable cruelty on the estates\nof Prince Radzivil, was stationed in the village and its neighbourhood.\nThe house was constantly full of drunken Russians, who committed all\nsorts of excesses, hewed to pieces tables and benches, threw glasses and\nbottles into the faces of the people of the house, and so on. To give\nmerely one example, a Russian, who was stationed in this house as guard,\nand whose charge it was to secure the house against all violence, came\nhome once drunk, and demanded something to eat. A dish of millet with\nbutter was placed before him cooked. He shoved the dish away, and\nshouted an order for more butter. A whole small tub of butter was\nbrought, when he shouted again an order for another dish. This was\nbrought immediately, whereupon he threw all the butter into it, and\ncalled for spirits. A whole bottle was brought, and he poured it\nlikewise into the dish. Thereafter milk, pepper, salt, and tobacco, in\nlarge quantities had to be brought to him, the whole being put in, and\nthe mixture devoured. After he had taken some spoonfuls, he began to\nstrike about him, pulled the host by the beard, struck him in the face\nwith his fist, so that the blood flowed out of his mouth, poured some of\nhis glorious broth down his throat, and went on in this riotous manner\ntill he became so drunk that he could no longer support himself, and\nfell to the ground.\n\nSuch scenes were at that time very common everywhere in Poland. If a\nRussian army passed a place, they took with them a _prowodnik_, or\nguide, to the next place. But instead of seeking to be supplied by the\nmayor or the village magistrate, they used to seize the first person\nwhom they met on the road. He might be young or old, male or female,\nhealthy or sick, it mattered nothing to them; for they knew the road\nwell enough from special charts, and only sought an opportunity for\noutrage. If it happened that the person seized did not know the way at\nall, and did not show them the right road, they did not allow themselves\nto be sent astray on this account; they selected the road all right, but\nthey cudgelled the poor prowodnik till he was half-dead, _for not\nknowing the way_!\n\nI was once seized as a prowodnik myself. I did not indeed know the way,\nbut luckily I hit upon it by chance. Fortunately, therefore, I reached\nthe proper place, and the only violence I suffered, besides a good many\nblows and kicks from the Russian soldiers, was the threat, that, if ever\nI led them astray, I should certainly be flayed alive--a threat which\nthey might be trusted with carrying into execution.\n\nThe other places which I filled as tutor were more or less similar to\nthis. In one of these a remarkable psychological incident occurred in\nwhich I took the principal part and which is to be described in the\nsequel. An incident of the same kind, however, which happened to\nanother person and of which I was simply eye-witness, must be mentioned\nhere.\n\nA tutor in the next village, who was a somnambulist, rose one night from\nhis bed and went to the village churchyard with a volume of the Jewish\nceremonial laws in his hand. After remaining some time there he returned\nto his bed. In the morning he rose up, without remembering the least of\nwhat had happened during the night, and went to the chest where his copy\nof the ceremonial laws was usually kept, in order to take out the first\npart, _Orach Chajim_ or the Way of Life, which he was accustomed to read\nevery morning. The code consists of four parts, each of which was bound\nseparately, and all the four had certainly been locked up in the chest.\nHe was therefore astonished to find only three of the parts, _Joreh\nDeah_ or the Teacher of Wisdom, being awanting. As he knew about his\ndisease he searched everywhere, till at last he came to the churchyard\nwhere he found the _Joreh Deah_ lying open at the chapter, _Hilchoth\nAbheloth_ or the Laws of Mourning. He took this for a bad omen and came\nhome much disquieted. On being asked the cause of his disquietude he\nrelated the incident which had occurred, with the addition, \"Ah! God\nknows how my poor mother is!\" He begged of his master the loan of a\nhorse and permission to ride to the nearest town, where his mother\nlived, in order to enquire after her welfare. As he had to pass the\nplace where I was tutor, and I saw him riding in great excitement\nwithout being willing to dismount even for a little while, I asked him\nthe cause of his excitement when he related to me the above-mentioned\nincident.\n\nI was astonished, not so much about the particular circumstances of this\nincident, as about somnambulism in general, of which till then I had\nknown nothing. My friend, on the other hand, assured me that\nsomnambulism was a common occurrence with him, and that it meant\nnothing, but that the circumstance of the _Hilchoth Abheloth_ made him\nforebode some misfortune. Thereupon he rode off, arrived at his mother's\nhouse, and found her seated at her frame for needlework. She asked him\nthe reason of his coming, when he replied that he had come merely to pay\nher a visit, as he had not seen her for a long time. After he had rested\nfor a good while, he rode back; but his disquietude was by no means\nwholly removed, and the thought of the _Hilchoth Abheloth_ he could not\nget out of his head. The third day after, a fire broke out in the town\nwhere his mother lived, and the poor woman perished in the flames.\nScarcely had the son heard of the conflagration, when he began to lament\nthat his mother had so miserably perished. He rode off in all haste to\nthe town, and found what he had foreboded.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nAlso on a Secret Society, and therefore a Long Chapter.\n\n\nAbout this time I became acquainted with a sect of my nation, called the\n_New Chasidim_, which was then coming into prominence. _Chasidim_ is the\nname generally given by the Hebrews to the _pious_, that is, to those\nwho distinguish themselves by exercising the strictest piety. These\nwere, from time immemorial, men who had freed themselves from worldly\noccupations and pleasures, and devoted their lives to the strictest\nexercise of the laws of religion and penance for their sins. As already\nmentioned, they sought to accomplish this object by prayers and other\nexercises of devotion, by chastisement of the body and similar means.\n\nBut about this time some among them set themselves up for founders of a\nnew sect. They maintained that true piety does not by any means consist\nin chastisement of the body, by which the spiritual quiet and\ncheerfulness, necessary to the knowledge and love of God, are disturbed.\nOn the contrary, they maintained that man must satisfy all his bodily\nwants, and seek to enjoy the pleasures of sense, so far as may be\nnecessary for the development of our feelings, inasmuch as God has\ncreated all for his glory. The true service of God, according to them,\nconsists in exercises of devotion with exertion of all our powers, and\nannihilation of self before God; for they maintain that man, in\naccordance with his destination, can reach the highest perfection only\nwhen he regards himself, not as a being that exists and works for\nhimself, but merely as an organ of the Godhead. Instead therefore of\nspending their lives in separation from the world, in suppression of\ntheir natural feelings, and in deadening their powers, they believed\nthat they acted much more to the purpose, when they sought to develop\ntheir natural feelings as much as possible, to bring their powers into\nexercise, and constantly to widen their sphere of work.\n\nIt must be acknowledged, that both of these opposite methods have\nsomething true for a foundation. Of the former the foundation is\nobviously Stoicism, that is, an endeavour to determine actions by free\nwill in accordance with a higher principle than passion; the latter is\nfounded on the system of perfection. Only both, like everything else in\nthe world, may be abused, and are abused in actual life. Those of the\nfirst sect drive their penitential disposition to extravagance; instead\nof merely regulating their desires and passions by rules of moderation,\nthey seek to annihilate them; and, instead of endeavouring, like the\nStoics, to find the principle of their actions in pure reason, they seek\nit rather in religion. This is a pure source, it is true; but as these\npeople have false ideas of religion itself, and their virtue has for its\nfoundation merely the future rewards and punishments of an arbitrary\ntyrannical being who governs by mere caprice, in point of fact their\nactions flow from an impure source, namely the principle of interest.\nMoreover, in their case this interest rests merely on fancies, so that,\nin this respect, they are far below the grossest Epicureans, who have,\nit is true, a low, but still a real interest as the end of their\nactions. Only then can religion yield a principle of virtue, when it is\nitself founded on the idea of virtue.\n\nThe adherents of the second sect have indeed more correct ideas of\nreligion and morals; but since in this respect they regulate themselves\nfor the most part in accordance with obscure feelings, and not in\naccordance with distinct knowledge, they likewise necessarily fall into\nall sorts of extravagances. Self-annihilation of necessity cramps their\nactivity, or gives it a false direction. They have no natural science,\nno acquaintance with psychology; and they are vain enough to consider\nthemselves organs of the Godhead,--which of course they are, to an\nextent limited by the degree of perfection they attain. The result is,\nthat on the credit of the Godhead they perpetrate the greatest excesses;\nevery extraordinary suggestion is to them a divine inspiration, and\nevery lively impulse a divine call.\n\nThese sects were not in fact different sects of religion; their\ndifference consisted merely in the mode of their religious exercises.\nBut still their animosity went so far, that they decried each other as\nheretics, and indulged in mutual persecution. At first the new sect held\nthe upper hand, and extended itself nearly over the whole of Poland, and\neven beyond. The heads of the sect ordinarily sent emissaries\neverywhere, whose duty it was to preach the new doctrine and procure\nadherents. Now, the majority of the Polish Jews consist of scholars,\nthat is, men devoted to an inactive and contemplative life; for every\nPolish Jew is destined from his birth to be a rabbi, and only the\ngreatest incapacity can exclude him from the office. Moreover, this new\ndoctrine was to make the way to blessedness easier, inasmuch as it\ndeclared that fasts and vigils and the constant study of the Talmud are\nnot only useless, but even prejudicial to that cheerfulness of spirit\nwhich is essential to genuine piety. It was therefore natural that the\nadherents of the doctrine spread far and wide in a short time.\n\nPilgrimages were made to K. M. and other holy places, where the\nenlightened superiors of this sect abode. Young people forsook parents,\nwives and children, and went in troops to visit these superiors, and\nhear from their lips the new doctrine. The occasion, which led to the\nrise of this sect was the following.[43]\n\nI have already remarked that, since the time when the Jews lost their\nnational position and were dispersed among other nations where they are\nmore or less tolerated, they have had no internal form of government but\ntheir religious constitution, by which they are held together and still\nform, in spite of their political dispersion, an organic whole. Their\nleaders, therefore, have allowed themselves to be occupied with nothing\nso much as with imparting additional strength to this, the only bond of\nunion by which the Jews still constitute a nation. But the doctrines of\ntheir faith and the laws of their religion take their origin in the Holy\nScriptures, while these leave much that is indefinite in regard to their\nexposition and application to particular cases. Consequently the aid of\ntradition is of necessity called in, and by this means the method of\nexpounding the Holy Scriptures, as well as the deduction of cases left\nundetermined by them, is made to appear as if specified in determinate\nlaws. This tradition could not of course be entrusted to the whole\nnation, but merely to a particular body--a sort of legislative\ncommission.\n\nBy this means, however, the evil was not avoided. Tradition itself left\nmuch that was still indeterminate. The deduction of particular cases\nfrom the general, and the new laws demanded by the circumstances of\ndifferent times, gave occasion for many controversies; but through these\nvery controversies and the mode of their settlement, this body became\nalways more numerous, and its influence on the nation more powerful.\nThe Jewish constitution is therefore in its form aristocratic, and is\naccordingly exposed to all the abuses of an aristocracy. The unlearned\nclasses of the people, being burdened with the care of supporting not\nonly themselves but also the indispensable learned class, were unable to\ngive their attention to abuses of the kind. But from time to time men\nhave arisen out of the legislative body itself, who have not only\ndenounced its abuses, but have even called in question its authority.\n\nOf this sort was the founder of the Christian religion, who at the very\noutset placed himself in opposition to the tyranny of this aristocracy,\nand brought back the whole ceremonial law to its origin, namely, a pure\nmoral system, to which the ceremonial law stands related as means to\nend. In this way the reformation at least of a part of the nation was\naccomplished. Of the same sort also was the notorious Shabbethai Zebi,\nwho, at the close of last century[44] set himself up as Messiah, and was\ngoing to abolish the whole ceremonial law, especially the rabbinical\ninstitutions. A moral system founded upon reason would, owing to the\ndeeply rooted prejudices of the nation at that time, have been powerless\nto work out a wholesome reformation. To their prejudices and fanaticism\ntherefore it was necessary to oppose prejudices and fanaticism. This\nwas done in the following way.\n\nA secret society, whose founders belonged to the disaffected spirits of\nthe nation, had already taken root in it for a long time. A certain\nFrench rabbi, named Moses de Leon, is said, according to Rabbi Joseph\nCandia, to have composed the _Zohar_, and to have foisted it upon the\nnation as an old book having for its author the celebrated Talmudist,\nRabbi ben Jochai. This book contains, as stated above, an exposition of\nthe Holy Scriptures in accordance with the principles of the Cabbalah;\nor rather, it contains these principles themselves delivered in the form\nof an exposition of the Holy Scriptures, and drawn, as it were, from\nthese. It has, like Janus, a double face, and admits, therefore, of a\ndouble interpretation.\n\nThe one is that which is given with great diffuseness in Cabbalistic\nwritings, and has been brought into a system. Here is a wide field for\nthe imagination, where it can revel at will without being in the end\nbetter instructed on the matter than before. Here are delivered, in\nfigurative language, many moral and physical truths, which lose\nthemselves at last in the labyrinth of the hyperphysical. This method of\ntreating the Cabbalah is peculiar to Cabbalistic scholars, and\nconstitutes the lesser mysteries of this secret society.\n\nThe second method, on the other hand, concerns the secret political\nmeaning of the Cabbalah, and is known only to the superiors of the\nsecret society. These superiors themselves, as well as their operations,\nremain ever unknown; the rest of the society you may become acquainted\nwith, if you choose. But the latter _cannot_ betray political secrets\nwhich are unknown to themselves, while the former _will not_ do it,\nbecause it is against their interest. Only the lesser (purely literary)\nmysteries are entrusted to the people, and urged upon them as matters of\nthe highest importance. The greater (political) mysteries are not\ntaught, but, as a matter of course, are brought into practice.\n\nA certain Cabbalist, Rabbi Joel Baalshem[45] by name, became very\ncelebrated at this time on account of some lucky cures which he effected\nby means of his medical acquirements and his conjuring tricks, as he\ngave out that all this was done, not by natural means, but solely by\nhelp of the _Cabbalah Maasith_ (the practical Cabbalah), and the use of\nsacred names. In this way he played a very successful game in Poland. He\nalso took care to have followers in his art. Among his disciples were\nsome, who took hold of his profession, and made themselves a name by\nsuccessful cures and the detection of robberies. With their cures the\nprocess was quite natural. They employed the common means of medicine,\nbut after the usual method of the conjurer they sought to turn the\nattention of the spectator from these, and direct it to their\nCabbalistic hocus-pocus. The robberies they either brought about\nthemselves, or they discovered them by means of their detectives, who\nwere spread all over the country.\n\nOthers of greater genius and a nobler mode of thinking, formed far\ngrander plans. They saw that their private interest, as well as the\ngeneral interest, could be best promoted by gaining the people's\nconfidence, and this they sought to command by enlightenment. Their plan\nwas therefore moral and political at the same time.[46] At first it\nappeared as if they would merely do away with the abuses which had crept\ninto the Jewish system of religion and morals; but this drew after it of\nnecessity a complete abrogation of the whole system. The principal\npoints which they attacked were these:--\n\n1. The abuse of rabbinical learning. Instead of simplifying the laws and\nrendering them capable of being known by all, the learning of the rabbis\nleaves them still more confused and indefinite. Moreover, being occupied\nonly with the study of the laws, it gives as much attention to those\nwhich are no longer of any application, such as the laws of sacrifice,\nof purification, etc., as to those which are still in use. Besides, it\nis not the study, but the observance of the laws, that forms the chief\nconcern, since the study of them is not an end in itself, but merely a\nmeans to their observance. And, finally, in the observance of the laws\nthe rabbis have regard merely to the external ceremony, not to the moral\nend.\n\n2. The abuse of piety on the part of the so-called penitents. These\nbecome very zealous, it is true, about the practice of virtue. Their\nmotive to virtue, however, is not that knowledge of God and His\nperfection, which is based on reason; it consists rather in false\nrepresentations of God and His attributes. They failed therefore of\nnecessity to find true virtue, and hit upon a spurious imitation.\nInstead of aspiring after likeness to God, and striving to escape from\nthe bondage of sensual passions into the dominion of a free will that\nfinds its motive in reason, they sought to annihilate their passions by\nannihilating their powers of activity, as I have already shown by some\ndeplorable examples.\n\nOn the other hand, those who sought to enlighten the people required, as\nan indispensable condition of true virtue, a cheerful state of mind\ndisposed to every form of active exertion; and they not only allowed,\nbut even recommended, a moderate enjoyment of all kinds of pleasure as\nnecessary for the attainment of this cheerful disposition. Their worship\nconsisted in a voluntary elevation above the body, that is, in an\nabstraction of the thoughts from all created things, even from the\nindividual self, and in union with God. By this means a kind of\nself-denial arose among them, which led them to ascribe, not to\nthemselves, but to God alone, all the actions undertaken in this state.\nTheir worship therefore consisted in a sort of speculative adoration,\nfor which they held no special time or formula to be necessary, but they\nleft each one to determine it according to the degree of his knowledge.\nStill they chose for it most commonly the hours set apart for the public\nworship of God. In their public worship they endeavoured mainly to\nattain that elevation above the body, which has been described; they\nbecame so absorbed in the idea of the divine perfection, that they lost\nthe idea of everything else, even of their own body, and, as they gave\nout, the body became in this state wholly devoid of feeling.\n\nSuch abstraction, however, was a very difficult matter; and accordingly,\nwhenever they came out of this state by new suggestions taking\npossession of their minds, they laboured, by all sorts of _mechanical\noperations_, such as movements and cries, to bring themselves back into\nthe state once more, and to keep themselves in it without interruption\nduring the whole time of their worship. It was amusing to observe how\nthey often interrupted their prayers by all sorts of extraordinary tones\nand comical gestures, which were meant as threats and reproaches against\ntheir adversary, the Evil Spirit, who tried to disturb their devotion;\nand how by this means they wore themselves out to such an extent, that,\non finishing their prayers, they commonly fell down in complete\nexhaustion.\n\nIt is not to be denied that, however sound may be the basis of such a\nworship, it is subject to abuse just as much as the other. The internal\nactivity following upon cheerfulness of mind, must depend on the degree\nof knowledge acquired. Self-annihilation before God is only then\nwell-founded, when a man's faculty of knowledge, owing to the grandeur\nof its object, is so entirely occupied with that object, that he exists,\nas it were, out of himself, in the object alone. If, on the contrary,\nthe faculty of knowledge is limited in respect of its object, so that it\nis incapable of any steady progress, then the activity mentioned, by\nbeing concentrated on this single object, is repressed rather than\nstimulated. Some simple men of this sect, who sauntered about idly the\nwhole day with pipe in mouth, when asked, what they were thinking about\nall the time, replied, \"We are thinking about God.\" This answer would\nhave been satisfactory, if they had constantly sought, by an adequate\nknowledge of nature, to extend their knowledge of the divine\nperfections. But this was impossible in their case, as their knowledge\nof nature was extremely limited; and consequently the condition, in\nwhich they concentrated their activity upon an object which, in respect\nof their capacity, was unfruitful, became of necessity unnatural.\nMoreover, their actions could be ascribed to God, only when they were\nthe results of an accurate knowledge of God; but when they resulted from\na very limited degree of this knowledge, it was inevitable that all\nsorts of excesses should be committed on the credit of God, as\nunfortunately the issue has shown.\n\nBut the fact that this sect spread so rapidly, and that the new doctrine\nmet with so much applause among the majority of the nation, may be very\neasily explained. The natural inclination to idleness and a life of\nspeculation on the part of the majority, who from birth are destined to\nstudy, the dryness and unfruitfulness of rabbinical studies, and the\ngreat burden of the ceremonial law, which the new doctrine promised to\nlighten, finally the tendency to fanaticism and the love of the\nmarvellous, which are nourished by this doctrine,--these are sufficient\nto make this phenomenon intelligible.\n\nAt first the rabbis and the pietists opposed the spread of this sect in\nthe old fashion; but in spite of this, for the reasons just mentioned,\nit maintained the upper hand. Hostilities were practised on both sides.\nEach party sought to gain adherents. A ferment arose in the nation, and\nopinions were divided.\n\nI could not form any accurate idea of the new sect, and did not know\nwhat to think of it, till I met with a young man, who had already been\ninitiated into the society, and had enjoyed the good fortune of\nconversing with its superiors. This man happened to be travelling\nthrough the place of my abode, and I seized the opportunity of asking\nfor some information about the internal constitution of the society, the\nmode of admission, and so forth. The stranger was still in the lowest\ngrade of membership, and consequently knew nothing about the internal\nconstitution of the society. He was therefore unable to give me any\ninformation on the subject; but, as far as the mode of admission was\nconcerned, he assured me that that was the simplest thing in the world.\nAny man, who felt a desire of perfection, but did not know how to\nsatisfy it, or wished to remove the hindrances to its satisfaction, had\nnothing to do but apply to the superiors of the society, and _eo ipso_\nhe became a member. He did not even require, as you must do on applying\nto a medical doctor, to say anything to these superiors about his moral\nweakness, his previous life, and matters of that sort, inasmuch as\nnothing was unknown to the superiors, they could see into the human\nheart, and discern everything that is concealed in its secret recesses,\nthey could foretell the future, and bring near at hand things that are\nremote. Their sermons and moral teachings were not, as these things\ncommonly are, thought over and arranged in an orderly manner beforehand.\nThis method is proper only to the man, who regards himself as a being\nexisting and working for himself apart from God. But the superiors of\nthis sect hold that their teachings are divine and therefore infallible,\nonly when they are the result of self-annihilation before God, that is,\nwhen they are suggested to them _ex tempore_, by the exigence of\ncircumstances, without their contributing anything themselves.\n\nAs I was quite captivated by this description I begged the stranger to\ncommunicate to me some of these divine teachings. He clapped his hand on\nhis brow as if he were waiting for inspiration from the Holy Ghost, and\nturned to me with a solemn mien and his arms half-bared, which he\nbrought into action somewhat like Corporal Trim, when he was reading the\nsermon. Then he began as follows:--\n\n\"'Sing unto God a new song; His praise is in the congregation of saints'\n(Psalm cxlix., 1). Our superiors explain this verse in the following\nway. The attributes of God as the most perfect being must surpass by far\nthe attributes of every finite being; and consequently His praise, as\nthe expression of His attributes, must likewise surpass the praise of\nany such being. Till the present time the praise of God consisted in\nascribing to Him supernatural operations, such as the discovery of what\nis concealed, the foreseeing of the future, and the production of\neffects immediately by His mere will. Now, however, the saints, that is,\nthe superiors, are able to perform such supernatural actions themselves.\nAccordingly in this respect God has no longer preeminence over them; and\nit is therefore necessary to find some new praise, which is proper to\nGod alone.\"\n\nQuite charmed with this ingenious method of interpreting the Holy\nScriptures, I begged the stranger for some more expositions of the same\nkind. He proceeded therefore in his inspired manner:--\"'When the\nminstrel played, the spirit of God came upon him' (2 Kings iii. 15).\nThis is explained in the following way. As long as a man is self-active,\nhe is incapable of receiving the influence of the Holy Ghost; for this\npurpose he must hold himself like an instrument in a purely passive\nstate. The meaning of the passage is therefore this. When the minstrel\n(\u05d4\u05b7\u05de\u05b0\u05bc\u05e0\u05b7\u05d2\u05b5\u05bc\u05df, the servant of God), becomes like his instrument\n(\u05db\u05b0\u05bc\u05e0\u05b7\u05d2\u05b5\u05bc\u05df), then the spirit of God comes upon him.\"[47]\n\n\"Now,\" said the stranger again, \"hear the interpretation of a passage\nfrom the Mishnah, where it is said, 'The honour of thy neighbour shall\nbe as dear to thee as thine own.' Our teachers explain this in the\nfollowing way. It is certain that no man will find pleasure in doing\nhonour to himself: this would be altogether ridiculous. But it would be\njust as ridiculous to make too much of the marks of honour received from\nanother, as these confer on us no more intrinsic worth than we have\nalready. This passage therefore means merely, that the honour of thy\nneighbour (the honour which thy neighbour shows to thee) must be of as\nlittle value in thine eyes, as thine own (the honour which thou showest\nto thyself).\"\n\nI could not help being astonished at the exquisite refinement of these\nthoughts; and charmed with the ingenious exegesis, by which they were\nsupported.[48] My imagination was strained to the highest pitch by these\ndescriptions, and consequently I wished nothing so much as the pleasure\nof becoming a member of this honourable society. I resolved therefore to\nundertake a journey to M----, where the superior B---- resided. I waited\nwith the greatest impatience for the close of my period of service,\nwhich lasted still for some weeks. As soon as this came to an end,\ninstead of going home (though I was only two miles away), I started at\nonce on my pilgrimage. The journey extended over some weeks.\n\nAt last I arrived at M----, and after having rested from my journey I\nwent to the house of the superior under the idea that I could be\nintroduced to him at once. I was told, however, that he could not speak\nto me at the time, but that I was invited to his table on Sabbath along\nwith the other strangers who had come to visit him; that I should then\nhave the happiness of seeing the saintly man face to face, and of\nhearing the sublimest teachings out of his own mouth; that although this\nwas a public audience, yet, on account of the individual references\nwhich I should find made to myself, I might regard it as a special\ninterview.\n\nAccordingly on Sabbath I went to this solemn meal, and found there a\nlarge number of respectable men who had met here from various quarters.\nAt length the great man appeared in his awe-inspiring form, clothed in\nwhite satin. Even his shoes and snuffbox were white, this being among\nthe Cabbalists the colour of grace. He gave to every new comer his\nsalaam, that is, his greeting. We sat down to table and during the meal\na solemn silence reigned. After the meal was over, the superior struck\nup a solemn inspiriting melody, held his hand for some time upon his\nbrow, and then began to call out, \"Z---- of H----, M---- of R----,\" and\nso on. Every new comer was thus called by his own name and the name of\nhis residence, which excited no little astonishment. Each recited, as he\nwas called, some verse of the Holy Scriptures. Thereupon the superior\nbegan to deliver a sermon for which the verses recited served as a text,\nso that although they were disconnected verses taken from different\nparts of the Holy Scriptures they were combined with as much skill as if\nthey had formed a single whole. What was still more extraordinary,\nevery one of the new comers believed that he discovered, in that part of\nthe sermon which was founded on his verse, something that had special\nreference to the facts of his own spiritual life. At this we were of\ncourse greatly astonished.\n\nIt was not long, however, before I began to qualify the high opinion I\nhad formed of this superior and the whole society. I observed that their\ningenious exegesis was at bottom false, and, in addition to that, was\nlimited strictly to their own extravagant principles, such as the\ndoctrine of self-annihilation. When a man had once learned these, there\nwas nothing new for him to bear. The so-called miracles could be very\nnaturally explained. By means of correspondence and spies and a certain\nknowledge of men, by physiognomy and skilful questions, the superiors\nwere able to elicit indirectly the secrets of the heart, so that they\nsucceeded with these simple men in obtaining the reputation of being\ninspired prophets.\n\nThe whole society also displeased me not a little by their cynical\nspirit and the excess of their merriment. A single example of this may\nsuffice. We had met once at the hour of prayer in the house of the\nsuperior. One of the company arrived somewhat late, when the others\nasked him the reason. He replied that he had been detained by his wife\nhaving been that evening confined with a daughter. As soon as they heard\nthis, they began to congratulate him in a somewhat uproarious fashion.\nThe superior thereupon came out of his study and asked the cause of the\nnoise. He was told that we were congratulating our friend, because his\nwife had brought a girl into the world. \"A girl!\" he answered with the\ngreatest indignation, \"he ought to be whipped.\"[49] The poor fellow\nprotested. He could not comprehend why he should be made to suffer for\nhis wife having brought a girl into the world. But this was of no avail:\nhe was seized, thrown down on the floor, and whipped unmercifully. All\nexcept the victim fell into an hilarious mood over the affair, upon\nwhich the superior called them to prayer in the following words, \"Now,\nbrethren, _serve the Lord with gladness_!\"\n\nI would not stay in the place any longer. I sought the superior's\nblessing, took my departure from the society with the resolution to\nabandon it for ever, and returned home.\n\nNow I shall say something of the internal constitution of the society.\nThe superiors may, according to my experience, be brought under four\nheads: (1) the prudent, (2) the crafty, (3) the powerful,[50] (4) the\ngood.\n\nThe highest class, which rules all the others, is of course the first.\nThese are men of enlightenment, who have attained a deep knowledge of\nthe weaknesses of men and the motives of their actions, and have early\nlearned the truth that prudence is better than power, inasmuch as power\nis in part dependent on prudence, while prudence is independent of\npower. A man may have as many powers and in as high a degree as he will,\nstill his influence is always limited. By prudence, however, and a sort\nof psychological mechanics, that is, an insight into the best possible\nuse of these powers and their direction, they may be infinitely\nstrengthened. These prudent leaders, therefore, have devoted themselves\nto the art of ruling free men, that is, of using the will and powers of\nother men, so that while these believe themselves to be advancing merely\ntheir own ends, they are in reality advancing the ends of their leaders.\nThis can be maintained by a judicious combination and regulation of the\npowers, so that by the slightest touch upon this instrument it may\nproduce the greatest effect. There is here no deceit, for, as\npresupposed, the others themselves reach their own ends by this means\nbest.\n\nThe second class, the crafty, also use the will and the powers of others\nfor the attainment of their ends; but in regard to these ends they are\nmore short-sighted or more impetuous than the former class. It often\nhappens, therefore, that they seek to attain their ends at the expense\nof others; and their skill consists not merely in attaining their own\nends, like the first class, but in carefully concealing from others the\nfact that they have not reached theirs.\n\nThe powerful are men who, by their inborn or acquired moral force, rule\nover the weakness of others, especially when their force is such as is\nseldom found in others, as, for example, the control of all the passions\nbut one, which is made the end of their actions.\n\nThe good are weak men who are merely passive in respect of their\nknowledge and power of will, and whose ends are reached, not by\ncontrolling, but by allowing themselves to be controlled.\n\nThe highest class, that of the prudent, supervising all the others\nwithout being under their supervision, as a matter of course rules them\nall. It makes use of the crafty on their good side, and seeks to make\nthem harmless on their other side by outwitting them, so that when they\nbelieve they are deceiving, they themselves are deceived. It makes use,\nmoreover, of the powerful for the attainment of more important ends, but\nseeks, when necessary, to keep them in check by the opposition of\nseveral, it may be weaker, powers. Finally it makes use of the good for\nthe attainment of its ends, not merely with them but also with others,\ninasmuch as it commends these weak brethren to the others as an example\nof submission that is worthy of imitation, and by this means clears out\nof the way those hindrances that arise from the independent activity of\nthe others.\n\nThis highest class begins usually with Stoicism, and ends with\nEpicureanism. Its members consist of pious men of the first sort, that\nis, such as have for a considerable time devoted themselves to the\nstrictest exercise of religious and moral laws, to the control of their\ndesires and passions. But they do not, like the Stoic, look upon\nStoicism as an end in itself; they regard it merely as a means to the\nhighest end of man, namely, happiness. They do not therefore remain at\nthe Stoical stage, but, after having obtained from it all that is\nnecessary to the highest end, they hasten to that end itself, the\nenjoyment of happiness. By their exercise in the strictest Stoicism\ntheir sensibility for all sorts of pleasure is heightened and ennobled,\ninstead of becoming duller, as it is with gross Epicureans. By means of\nthis exercise also they are placed in a position to defer every pleasure\nthat presents itself till they have determined its real worth, which a\ngross Epicurean will not do.\n\nThe first impulse to Stoicism, however, must lie in the temperament, and\nit is only by a kind of self-deception that it is shifted to the account\nof voluntary activity. But this vanity imparts courage for actual\nundertakings of a voluntary nature, and this courage is continually\nfired by their successful issue. As the superiors of this sect are not\nmen of science, it is not to be supposed that they have hit upon their\nsystem by the guidance of reason alone. Rather, as already said, the\nmotive was, in the first instance, temperament, in the second, religious\nideas; and it was only after that, that they could attain to a clear\nknowledge and practice of their system in its purity.\n\nThis sect was therefore, in regard to its end and its means, a sort of\nsecret society, which had nearly acquired dominion over the whole\nnation; and consequently one of the greatest revolutions was to have\nbeen expected, if the excesses of some of its members had not laid bare\nmany weak spots, and thus put weapons into the hands of its enemies.\nSome among them, who wished to pass for genuine Cynics, violated all the\nlaws of decency, wandered about naked in the public streets, attended to\nthe wants of nature in the presence of others, and so on. By their\npractice of extemporising, as a consequence of their principle of\nself-annihilation, they introduced into their sermons all sorts of\nfoolish, unintelligible, confused stuff. By this means some of them\nbecame insane, and believed that in fact they were no longer in\nexistence. To all this must be added their pride and contempt of others\nwho did not belong to their sect, especially of the rabbis, who, though\nthey had their faults, were still far more active and useful than these\nignorant idlers. Men began to find out their weaknesses, to disturb\ntheir meetings, and to persecute them everywhere. This was brought about\nespecially by the authority of a celebrated rabbi, Elias of Wilna,[51]\nwho stood in great esteem among the Jews, so that now scarcely any\ntraces of the society can be found scattered here and there.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nContinuation of the Former, and also something about Religious\nMysteries.\n\n\nAfter the account of the secret society in the last chapter, this seems\nthe most appropriate place to state, for the examination of the\nthoughtful reader, my opinion about _mysteries in general_, and about\nthe _mysteries of religion_ in particular.\n\n_Mysteries in general_ are modes of the causal relation between objects\nin nature,--modes which are real or held to be real, but which cannot be\ndisclosed to every man by the natural use of his powers of knowledge.\n_Eternal truths_, that is, those necessary relations of objects which\nare founded on the nature of our powers of knowledge, however few may be\nfamiliar with them, are not, according to this definition, mysteries,\nbecause any one can discover them by the use of his powers of knowledge.\n\nOn the other hand, the results of _sympathy_ and _antipathy_, the\nmedical _specifics_, and similar effects, which some men fall upon by\nmere accident, and which they afterwards find confirmed by means of\nobservations and experiments, are genuine _mysteries of nature_, which\ncan be made known to another person, not by the use of his powers of\nknowledge, but only either by an accident of the same kind, or by\ncommunication from the first discoverer. If mysteries of this sort are\nnot confirmed by observation and experiment, the belief in their reality\nis called _superstition_.\n\n_Religion_ is a covenant formed between man and another moral being of a\nhigher genus. It presupposes a natural relation between man and this\nhigher moral being, so that, by the mutual fulfilment of their covenant,\nthey advance the interest of each other. If this natural relation (not\nbeing merely arbitrary and conventional) is real, and the mutual\nobligation of the contracting persons is founded on this relation, then\nit forms a _true_, but otherwise a _false_, natural religion. If the\nmutual obligation between man and the higher being or his\nrepresentatives is drawn up in a formal code, there arises a _positive_\nor _revealed religion_.\n\nThe true religion, natural as well as revealed, which, as already\nobserved, constitutes Judaism, consists in a contract, at first merely\nunderstood, but afterwards expressed, between man and the Supreme Being,\nwho revealed Himself to the patriarchs in person (in dreams and\nprophetic appearances), and made known by them His will, the reward of\nobeying it and the punishment of disobedience, regarding which a\ncovenant was then with mutual consent concluded. Subsequently, through\nhis representative Moses, He renewed His covenant with the Israelites in\nEgypt, determining more precisely their mutual obligations; and this\nwas afterwards on both sides formally confirmed on Mount Sinai.\n\nTo the thoughtful reader I do not need to say, that the representation\nof a covenant between God and man is to be taken merely _analogically_,\nand not in its strict sense. The absolutely Perfect Being can reveal\nHimself merely _as idea to the reason_. What revealed itself to the\npatriarchs and prophets, suitably to their power of comprehension, in\nfigure, in an anthropomorphic manner, was not the absolutely Perfect\nBeing Himself, but a representative of Him, His sensible image. The\ncovenant, which this Being concludes with man, has not for its end the\nmutual satisfaction of wants; for the Supreme Being has no wants, and\nthe wants of man are satisfied, not by means of this covenant, but only\nby observation of those relations between himself and other natural\nobjects, which are founded on the laws of nature. This covenant,\ntherefore, can have its foundation nowhere but in the nature of reason,\nwithout reference to any end.\n\nHeathenism, in my opinion, is distinguished from Judaism mainly by the\nfact, that the latter rests upon the _formal_, absolutely necessary laws\nof reason, while the former (even if it be founded on the nature of\nthings and therefore real) rests upon the _material_ laws of nature\nwhich are merely hypothetically necessary. From this the inevitable\nresult is polytheism; every particular cause is personified by\nimagination, that is, represented as a moral being, and made a\nparticular deity. At first this result was a matter of mere\n_Empiricism_; but by and by men had occasion to observe that these\ncauses, which were represented as particular deities, were dependent on\neach other in their effects, and in a certain aspect subordinate to each\nother. There thus arose gradually a whole system of heathen theology, in\nwhich every deity maintains his rank, and his relation to the rest is\ndetermined.\n\nJudaism, on the other hand, in its very origin contemplated a _system_,\nthat is, a unity among the forces of nature; and thereby it received at\nlast this _pure formal_ unity. This unity is merely of _regulative_ use,\nthat is, for the complete systematic connection of all the phenomena of\nnature; and it presupposes a knowledge of the _multiplicity_ of the\nvarious forces in nature. But owing to their excessive love of system,\nand their anxiety for the preservation of the _principle_ in its purity,\nthe Israelites seem to have wholly neglected its application. The result\nwas that they preserved a religion which was pure indeed, but at the\nsame time very unfruitful, both for the extension of knowledge and for\nits application in practical life. By this cause may be explained their\nconstant murmuring against the leaders of their religion, and their\nrepeated relapse into idolatry. They could not, like enlightened nations\nat the present day, direct their attention to purity of principle and\nuseful application of their religion at the same time, and therefore of\nnecessity they failed either in the one or in the other. Finally the\nTalmudists introduced a merely _formal_ application of religion which\naimed at no real end; and by this means they made matters worse and\nworse.\n\nThis religion, therefore, which, by the intention of its founder, should\nhave formed the Jews into the wisest and most intelligent of nations,\nmade them by its injudicious application the most ignorant and\nunreasonable of all. Instead of the knowledge of nature being combined\nwith the knowledge of religion, and the former subordinated to the\nlatter merely as the material to the formal, the former was altogether\nneglected; and the principle, maintained in its mere abstractness,\ncontinued without any application.\n\nMysteries of religion are objects and acts, which are adapted to ideas\nand principles, and the inner meaning of which is of great importance,\nbut which have in their outward form something unseemly or ridiculous or\notherwise objectionable. They must therefore, even in regard to their\noutward form, be kept concealed from the vulgar eye, which cannot\npenetrate into the inner meaning of anything; and accordingly for it\nthey must be a double mystery. That is to say, the objects or acts\nthemselves constitute the lesser mysteries, and their inner meaning the\ngreater mysteries.\n\nOf this sort, for example, among the Jews, in the tabernacle, and\nafterwards in the Holy of Holies in the temple, was the ark of the\ncovenant, which, according to the testimony of renowned authors, showed\nmuch resemblance to the sacred chest in the innermost shrine of some\nheathen temples. Thus we find among the Egyptians the casket of Apis,\nthat concealed from the vulgar eye this dead animal, which as a symbol\nindeed had an important meaning, but in itself presented a repulsive\naspect. The ark of the covenant in the first temple contained, it is\ntrue, according to the testimony of Holy Scripture, nothing besides the\ntwo tables of the law; but of the ark in the second temple, built after\nthe Babylonian captivity, I find in the Talmud a passage which is too\nremarkable not to be adduced. According to this passage the enemies, who\nseized the temple, found in the Holy of Holies the likeness of two\npersons of different sex embracing, and profaned the sacred object by a\ncrass exposition of its inner meaning. This likeness was said to be a\nvivid sensible representation of the union between the nation and God,\nand, in order to guard against abuse, had to be withdrawn from the eye\nof the common people, who cling to the symbol, but do not penetrate to\nits inner meaning. For the same reason the _cherubim_ also were\nconcealed behind the veil.\n\nOf the same sort were the mysteries of the ancients in general. But the\ngreatest of all mysteries in the Jewish religion consists in the name,\nJehovah, expressing _bare existence_, in abstraction from all\n_particular kinds of existence_, which cannot of course be conceived\nwithout _existence in general_. The doctrine of the unity of God, and\nthe dependence of all beings on Him, in regard to their possibility as\nwell as their actuality, can be perfectly comprehended only in\nconformity with a _single system_. When Josephus, in his apology against\nApion, says, \"The first instruction of our religion relates to the\nGodhead, and teaches that God comprehends all things, is an absolutely\nPerfect and Blessed Being, and is the _sole cause of all existence_,\" I\nbelieve that these words contain the best explanation of the otherwise\ndifficult passage, where Moses says to God, \"Behold, when I come unto\nthe children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers\nhath sent me unto you, and they shall ask, What is his name? what shall\nI answer unto them?\" and God replies, \"Thus shalt thou say unto the\nchildren of Israel, Jehovah, the God of your fathers, the God of\nAbraham, Isaac, and Jacob hath sent me unto you, for this is my name for\never, and this is my memorial unto all generations.\"[52] For, in my\nopinion, this passage means nothing more than that the Jewish religion\nlays at its foundation the unity of God as the _immediate_ cause of all\nexistence; and it says therefore precisely the same as the remarkable\ninscription on the pyramid at Sais, \"I am all that is and was and shall\nbe; my veil has no mortal removed,\" and that other inscription under the\ncolumn of Isis, \"I am that which is.\" The name, Jehovah, is called by\nthe Talmudists _Shem haezam_ (_nomen proprium_), the name of the\nessence, which belongs to God in Himself, without reference to His\noperations. The other names of God, however, are _appellative_, and\nexpress attributes which he has in common with all His creatures, only\nthat they belong to Him in the most eminent degree. For example,\n_Elohim_ is a lord, a judge. _El_ is a mighty one, _Adonai_, a lord; and\nthe same is the case with all the rest. The Talmudists drive this point\nso far as to maintain, that the Holy Scriptures consist merely of the\nmanifold names of God.\n\nThe Cabbalists made use of this principle. Having enumerated the chief\nattributes of God, arranged them in order and brought them into a system\nwhich they call _Olam Eziloth_ or _Sephiroth_, they not only picked out\nan appropriate name for each in the Holy Scriptures, but they made in\naddition all sorts of combinations of these attributes in various\nrelations, which they expressed by similar combinations of the\ncorresponding names. They could therefore easily expound the Holy\nScriptures according to their method, inasmuch as they found therein\nnothing but what they had before put in themselves.\n\nBesides these there may also be mysteries in a religion which consist in\nthe knowledge that the religion, as understood by enlightened people,\nhas no mysteries at all. This knowledge may be connected either with an\nendeavour to destroy gradually among the people the belief in mysteries,\nand to banish the so-called lesser mysteries by publishing the greater,\nor, on the contrary, with an endeavour to preserve among the people the\nbelief in mysteries, and to make the preservation of the lesser\nmysteries part of the subject of the greater.\n\nThe Jewish religion, according to the spirit of its founder, is of the\nfirst kind. Moses, as well as the prophets who followed him, sought\nconstantly to inculcate that the end of religion is not _external\nceremonies_, but the knowledge of the true God as the sole\nincomprehensible cause of all things, and the practice of virtue in\naccordance with the prescriptions of reason.\n\nThe heathen religions, on the other hand, show evident traces of the\nsecond kind. Still I am not, like some, inclined to believe that\neverything in these was planned for _intentional deception_, but I\nbelieve that the founders of these religions were for the most part\ndeceived deceivers; and this mode of representing the matter is far more\nin accordance with human nature. I am also unable to imagine that such\nsecret designs could be propagated, by means of a formal tradition, from\ngeneration to generation. And, moreover, what would have been the use of\nthis? Have not later generations the same faculty as the earlier of\ncontriving schemes to reach their ends? There are princes who have never\nread Macchiavelli, and yet have admirably carried his principles into\npractice.\n\nWith regard to the society of pietists described above I am persuaded\nthat it had as little connection with the free-masons as with any other\nsecret society. But conjectures are allowed, and here we have to do\nmerely with the _degree of probability_. In my opinion there are in\nevery state societies which are essentially secret, but which externally\nhave no appearance of being such. Every body of men with a common\ninterest is to me a secret society. Its aim and principal operations may\nbe ever so well known, still the _most important_ of these remain\nconcealed to the uninitiated. Of such a secret society, as of others,\nmuch good as well as evil may therefore be said; and so long as they do\nnot carry their mischief too far, they are always tolerated.\n\nThe Society of Pietists had a similar end in view to that of the Order\nof Illuminati in Bavaria, and employed nearly the same means. Its aim\nwas to spread itself among people wandering in the dark; and it made use\nof superstition in a remarkable manner, as means to this end. It sought\nchiefly to attract the youth to itself, and by a sort of empirical\nknowledge of men, to educate every member to that, for which he seemed\nto be destined by nature, and to assign him his proper place. Every\nmember of the society was allowed to acquire as much knowledge of its\naim and internal constitution, as enabled him to look merely backwards\non his subordinates, but not forwards on his superiors. These superiors\nunderstood the art of communicating truths of reason by means of sublime\nfigures, and of translating these figurative representations into truths\nof reason. It might almost be said of them, that _they understood the\nlanguage of animals_--a very important art, which is indispensable to\nevery teacher of the people. By doing away with a gloomy piety, their\ndoctrines met with acceptance among the lively youth. The principle of\nself-annihilation, taught by them, is, when well understood, nothing\nelse than the foundation of self-activity. By its means all the modes of\nthought and action, which have become rooted by education, habit and\ncommunication with others, and by which human activity is wont to\nreceive a wrong direction, are to be destroyed, and one's own free mode\nof action introduced. Moral and \u00e6sthetic feeling can in fact be\npreserved and perfected by this principle alone. It is only when ill\nunderstood, that it can be injurious, as I have shown by the example of\nthis society itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\nJourneys to K\u00f6nigsberg, Stettin and Berlin, for the purpose of extending\nmy knowledge of men.\n\n\nMy external circumstances were becoming worse and worse. I was unwilling\nany longer to adapt myself to my ordinary occupations, and found myself\ntherefore everywhere out of my sphere. On the other hand, I was also\nunable in the place of my abode to satisfy sufficiently my favourite\ninclination to the study of the sciences. So I determined to betake\nmyself to Germany, there to study medicine and, as opportunity offered,\nother sciences also. But the question was, how such a long journey was\nto be made. I knew indeed, that some merchants in the place of my abode\nwere soon to make a journey to K\u00f6nigsberg in Prussia; but I had only a\nslight acquaintance with them, and could not therefore expect that they\nwould take me with them for nothing. After much deliberation I fell at\nlast upon a capital expedient.\n\nI had among my friends a very learned and pious man, who stood in great\nesteem among all the Jews of the town. To him I revealed my purpose, and\ntook him into counsel on the subject. I laid before him my miserable\ncircumstances, pointed out to him, that, as my inclinations had been\nonce directed to the knowledge of God and His works, I was no longer fit\nfor any ordinary occupation; and I represented to him especially, that I\nwas now obliged to support myself by my scholarship alone, as an\ninstructor in the Bible and the Talmud, which, according to the judgment\nof some rabbis, was not altogether allowable. I explained to him, that\non this account I wished to study medicine as a profane art, by which\nmeans I might be of service, not only to myself, but to the whole of the\nJews in this neighbourhood, as there was no regular physician here, and\nthose, who gave themselves out for such, were the most ignorant shavers,\nwho packed men out of the world by their cures.\n\nThese reasons produced an extraordinary effect on so devout a man. He\nwent to a merchant of his acquaintance, represented to him the\nimportance of my undertaking, and persuaded him to take me with him to\nK\u00f6nigsberg on his own vessel. The merchant could refuse nothing to so\ngodly a man, and therefore gave his consent.\n\nAccordingly I set out with this Jewish merchant for K\u00f6nigsberg in\nPrussia. When I arrived there, I went to the Jewish medical doctor of\nthe place, opened to him my proposal to study medicine, and begged him\nfor advice and support. As his professional occupations prevented him\nfrom conveniently speaking with me on the subject, and as he could not\nunderstand me well at any rate, he referred me to some students who\nlodged in his house. As soon as I showed myself to these young\ngentlemen, and opened to them my proposal, they burst into loud\nlaughter. And certainly for this they were not to be blamed. Imagine a\nman from Polish Lithuania of about five and twenty years, with a\ntolerably stiff beard, in tattered dirty clothes, whose language is a\nmixture of Hebrew, Jewish German, Polish and Russian, with their several\ngrammatical inaccuracies, who gives out that he understands the German\nlanguage, and that he has attained some knowledge of the sciences. What\nwere the young gentlemen to think?\n\nThey began to poke fun at me, and gave me to read Mendelssohn's\n_Phaedo_, which by chance lay on the table. I read in the most pitiful\nstyle, both on account of the peculiar manner in which I had learned the\nGerman language, and on account of my bad pronunciation. Again they\nburst into loud laughter; but they said, I must explain to them what I\nhad read. This I did in my own fashion; but as they did not understand\nme, they demanded that I should translate what I had read into Hebrew.\nThis I did on the spot. The students, who understood Hebrew well, fell\ninto no slight astonishment, when they saw that I had not only grasped\ncorrectly the meaning of this celebrated author, but also expressed it\nhappily in Hebrew. They began therefore to interest themselves on my\naccount, procured for me some cast-off clothing, and board during my\nstay in K\u00f6nigsberg. At the same time they advised me to go to Berlin,\nwhere I should best attain my object. To make the journey suit my\ncircumstances, however, they advised me to go by ship from K\u00f6nigsberg to\nStettin, and thence to Frankfurt on the Oder, from which place I should\neasily find means of getting to Berlin.\n\nI went therefore by ship, and had nothing for food but some toast, some\nherring, and a flask of spirits. I was told in K\u00f6nigsberg, that the\njourney might take ten or, at the most, fourteen days. This prophecy,\nhowever, was not fulfilled. In consequence of contrary winds, the voyage\nlasted five weeks. In what circumstances, therefore, I found myself, may\nbe easily imagined. There were in the vessel besides me no other\npassengers, but an old woman, who sang hymns all the time for her\ncomfort. The Pomeranian German of the crew I could understand as little\nas they could my medley of Jewish, Polish and Lithuanian. I got nothing\nwarm to eat the whole time, and was obliged to sleep on hard stuffed\nbags. The vessel came also sometimes into danger. Of course the most of\nthe time I was seasick.\n\nAt last I arrived at Stettin, where I was told that I could make the\njourney to Frankfurt quite pleasantly on foot. But how was a Polish Jew\nin the most wretched circumstances, without a pfennig to buy food, and\nwithout knowing the language of the country, to make a journey even of a\nfew miles? Yet it had to be done. Accordingly I set out from Stettin,\nand as I thought over my miserable situation, I sat down under a\nlime-tree, and began to weep bitterly. I soon became somewhat lighter in\nheart; I took courage, and went on. After I had gone two or three miles,\ntowards evening I arrived at an inn thoroughly worn out. It was the eve\nof the Jewish fast, which falls in August. Already I was nearly starving\nwith hunger and thirst, and I was to fast still the whole of the next\nday. I had not a pfennig to spend and nothing of any value to sell.\n\nAfter long reflection it occurred to me, that I must still have in my\ncoat-pocket an iron spoon, which I had taken with me on board ship. I\nbrought it, and begged the landlady of the inn to give me a little bread\nand beer for it. She refused at first to take the spoon, but after much\nimportunity she was at last induced to grant a glass of sour beer in\nexchange. I was obliged therefore to content myself with this, drank my\nglass of beer, and went off to the stable to sleep on straw.\n\nIn the morning I proceeded on my journey, having previously inquired for\na place, where there were Jews, in order that I might be able to go into\nthe synagogue, and sing with my brethren the lamentations over the\ndestruction of Jerusalem. This was done, and after the prayers and\nsinging,--about midday,--I went to the Jewish schoolmaster of the place,\nand held some conversation with him. He soon discovered that I was a\nfull rabbi, began to interest himself about me, and procured me a\nsupper at the house of a Jew. He also gave me a letter of introduction\nto another schoolmaster in the neighbouring town, recommending me as a\ngreat Talmudist and an honourable rabbi. Here also I met with a fair\nreception. I was invited to the Sabbath dinner by the most respectable\nand richest Jew of the place, and went into the synagogue, where I was\nshown to the highest seat, and received every mark of honour usually\nbestowed on a rabbi.\n\nAfter the close of the service the rich Jew referred to took me to his\nhouse, and put me in the place of honour at his table, that is between\nhimself and his daughter. She was a young girl of about twelve years,\ndressed in the most beautiful style. I began, as rabbi, to hold a very\nlearned and edifying discourse; and the less the gentleman and lady\nunderstood it, the more divine it seemed to them. All at once I\nobserved, to my chagrin, that the young lady began to put on a sour\nlook, and to make wry faces. At first I did not know how to explain\nthis; but, after a while, when I turned my eyes upon myself and my\nmiserable dirty suit of rags, the whole mystery was at once unriddled.\nThe uneasiness of the young lady had a very good cause. And how could it\nbe otherwise? Since I left K\u00f6nigsberg, about seven weeks before, I had\nnever had a clean shirt to put on; and I had been obliged to lie in the\nstables of inns on bare straw, on which who knows how many poor\ntravellers had lain before? Now all at once my eyes were opened to see\nmy misery in its appalling magnitude. But what was I to do? How was I to\nhelp myself out of this unfortunate situation? Gloomy and sad I soon\nbade farewell to these good people, and proceeded on my journey to\nBerlin under a continued struggle with want and misery of every kind.\n\nAt last I reached this city. Here I believed that I should put an end to\nmy misery, and accomplish all my wishes. But alas I was sadly deceived.\nIn this capital, as is well known, no Jewish beggars were allowed.\nAccordingly the Jewish community of the place, in order to make\nprovision for their poor, have built at the Rosenthaler gate a house, in\nwhich the poor are received, and questioned by the Jewish elders about\nwhat they want in Berlin. According to the results of such inquiry, they\nare either taken into the city, if they are sick or want employment, or\nthey are sent forward on their journey. I was therefore conducted to\nthis house, which was filled partly with sick people, partly with a lewd\nrabble. For a long while I looked round in vain for a man, with whom I\nmight talk about my affairs.\n\nAt last I observed a man, who, to judge by his dress, was surely a\nrabbi. I went to him, and how great was my joy to learn from him, that\nhe was really a rabbi, and pretty well known in Berlin! I conversed with\nhim on all sorts of subjects connected with rabbinical learning; and as\nI was very open-hearted, I related to him the course of my life in\nPoland, revealed to him my purpose of studying medicine in Berlin,\nshowed him my commentary on the _Moreh Nebhochim_, and so forth. He\nlistened to all, and seemed to interest himself very much in my behalf.\nBut all at once he disappeared out of sight.\n\nAt length towards evening came the Jewish elders. Each of the persons in\nthe house was called, and questioned about his wants. When my turn came,\nI said quite frankly, that I wished to remain in Berlin, in order to\nstudy medicine. The elders refused my request point-blank, gave me a\npittance in charity, and went away. The reason of this conduct towards\nme in particular was nothing else than the following.\n\nThe rabbi, of whom I spoke, was a zealot in his orthodoxy. Accordingly\nwhen he had discovered my sentiments and purposes, he went into town,\nand informed the elders about my heretical mode of thinking. He told\nthem, that I was going to issue a new edition of the _Moreh Nebhochim_\nwith a commentary, and that my intention was not so much to study\nmedicine, but mainly to devote myself to the sciences in general, and to\nextend my knowledge. This the orthodox Jews look upon as something\ndangerous to religion and good morals. They believe this to be specially\ntrue of the Polish rabbis, who, having by some lucky accident been\ndelivered from the bondage of superstition, suddenly catch a gleam of\nthe light of reason, and set themselves free from their chains. And\nthis belief is to some extent well-founded. Persons in such a position\nmay be compared to a man, who, after being famished for a long time,\nsuddenly comes upon a well spread table, who will attack the food with\nviolent greed, and fill himself even to surfeiting.\n\nThe refusal of permission to stay in Berlin came upon me like a\nthunderclap. The ultimate object of all my hopes and wishes was all at\nonce removed beyond my reach, just when I had seen it so near. I found\nmyself in the situation of Tantalus, and did not know where to turn for\nhelp. I was especially pained by the treatment I received from the\noverseer of this poorhouse, who, by command of his superiors, urged my\nspeedy departure, and never left off till he saw me outside of the gate.\nThere I threw myself on the ground and began to weep bitterly. It was a\nSunday, and many people went, as usual, to walk outside of the city.\nMost of them never turned aside to a whining worm like me, but some\ncompassionate souls were very much struck with the sight, and asked the\ncause of my wailing. I answered them; but, partly on account of my\nunintelligible language, partly because my speech was broken by frequent\nweeping and sobbing, they could not understand what I said.\n\nI was so deeply affected by this vexation, that I fell into a violent\nfever. The soldiers, who kept guard at the gate, reported this at the\npoorhouse. The overseer came, and carried me in. I stayed there over the\nday, and made myself glad with the hope of becoming thoroughly sick, so\nas to enforce a longer sojourn in the place, during which I thought I\nmight form some acquaintances, by whose influence I hoped to receive\nprotection and permission to remain in Berlin. But alas! in this hope I\nwas deceived. The following day I rose quite lively again without a\ntrace of fever. I was therefore obliged to go. But whither? That I did\nnot know myself. Accordingly I took the first road that I came upon, and\nsurrendered myself to fate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\nDeepest Stage of Misery, and Deliverance.\n\n\nIn the evening I came to an inn, where I met a poor tramp who was a\nJewish beggar by profession. I was uncommonly pleased to meet one of my\nbrethren, with whom I could talk, and to whom this neighbourhood was\npretty well known. I resolved therefore to wander about the country with\nthis companion, and to preserve my life in this way, though two such\nheterogeneous persons were nowhere to be met with in the world. I was an\neducated rabbi; he was an idiot. I had hitherto maintained myself in an\nhonourable way; he was a beggar by profession. I had ideas of morality,\npropriety, and decency; he knew nothing of these. Finally, I was in\nsound health, it is true, but still of weakly constitution; he, on the\nother hand, was a sturdy, able-bodied fellow, who would have made the\nbest of soldiers.\n\nNotwithstanding these differences, I stuck close to the man, as, in\norder to prolong life, I was compelled to become a vagrant in a strange\nland. In our wanderings I laboured to communicate to my companion ideas\nof religion and of true morality, while he in return instructed me in\nthe art of begging. He taught me the usual formulas of the art, and\nrecommended me especially to curse and swear, whenever I was sent away\nwithout anything. But with all the trouble, which he gave himself in the\nmatter, his teachings would not take any hold on me. The formulas of\nbegging appeared to me absurd I thought, if a man was once compelled to\nbeg help of others, he should express his feelings in the most simple\nform. As far as cursing was concerned, I could not understand why a man,\nwho refused another's request, should draw a curse upon himself; and\nthen it seemed to me, that the man thus treated would be thereby\nembittered, and the beggar be all the less likely to attain his object.\nWhen therefore I went to beg with my comrade, I conducted myself always\nas if I were begging and cursing at the same time, but in fact I never\nspoke a single intelligible word. If, on the other hand, I went alone, I\nhad absolutely nothing to say; but from my appearance and conduct could\neasily be seen what was wanted. My comrade sometimes scolded me on\naccount of my slowness in learning his art, and this I bore with the\ngreatest patience.\n\nIn this way we wandered about in a district of a few miles for nearly\nhalf a year. At last we resolved to turn our steps towards Poland. When\nwe arrived at Posen we took up our quarters in the Jewish poorhouse, the\nmaster of which was a poor jobbing tailor. Here I formed the resolve, at\nwhatever cost, to bring my wandering to a close. It was harvest-time,\nand already began to be pretty cold. I was almost naked and barefoot. By\nthis vagrant life, in which I never got any regular meals, for the most\npart had to content myself with bits of mouldy bread and water, and at\nnight was obliged to lie on old straw, sometimes even on the bare earth,\nmy health had seriously suffered. Besides, the sacred seasons and\nfast-days in the Jewish calendar were coming on; and as at that time I\nwas of a somewhat strong religious disposition, I could not endure the\nthought of passing in complete idleness this period which others\nemployed for the welfare of their souls.\n\nI resolved, therefore, for the present at least, to go no farther, and,\nat all events if it should come to the worst, to throw myself before the\nsynagogue, and either die there or excite the compassion of my brethren,\nand by that means bring my sufferings to an end. Consequently as soon as\nmy comrade awoke in the morning, began to make arrangements for a\nbegging tour, and summoned me to the same, I told him that I would not\ngo with him at present; and when he asked how I intended to sustain life\nin any other way, I was able to answer nothing but \"God will surely\nhelp.\"\n\nI then went off to the Jewish school. Here I found a number of scholars,\nsome of whom were reading, while others took advantage of the master's\nabsence to pass the time in play. I also took a book to read. The\nscholars, who were struck by my strange dress, approached and asked me\nwhence I came and what I wanted. Their questions I answered in my\nLithuanian dialect, at which they began to laugh, and make merry at my\nexpense. For this I cared little. But I recollected that, some years\nbefore, a chief rabbi from my neighbourhood had been appointed to the\nsame office in Posen, and that he had taken with him an acquaintance and\na good friend of mine as his secretary. Accordingly I asked the boys\nabout this friend. To my extreme grief I learned that he was no longer\nin Posen, as the chief rabbi had been afterwards promoted to the same\noffice in Hamburg, and his secretary had gone with him to that place.\nThey told me, however, that his son, a boy about twelve years old, had\nbeen left behind in Posen with the present chief rabbi, who was a\nson-in-law of his predecessor.\n\nThis information saddened me not a little. Still the last circumstance\ngave me some hope. I inquired after the dwelling of the new chief rabbi,\nand went to it; but, as I was almost naked, I shrank from entering, and\nwaited until I saw some one going into the house, whom I begged to be so\ngood as to call my friend's son out. The boy recognised me at once, and\nmanifested his astonishment at seeing me here in such a pitiable plight.\nI replied, that this was not the time to relate all the misfortunes\nwhich had brought me into this state, and that at present he should\nconsider merely how he might somewhat relieve my distress.\n\nThis he promised to do. He went to the chief rabbi, and announced me as\na great scholar and a pious man, who by extraordinary accidents had\nfallen into a very miserable condition. The chief rabbi, who was an\nexcellent man, an acute Talmudist, and of very gentle character, was\ntouched by my distress, and sent for me to come in. He conversed with me\na while, discussing some of the most important subjects in the Talmud,\nand found me well versed in all branches of Jewish learning. Then he\ninquired about my intentions, and I told him that I wished to be\nintroduced as a tutor into some family, but that meanwhile my only\ndesire was to be able to celebrate the sacred season here, and for this\nshort period at least to interrupt my travels.\n\nThe good-hearted rabbi bade me, so far as this was concerned, to lay\naside all anxiety, spoke of my desire as a small matter, which it was\nnothing more than reasonable to want. He then gave me what money he had\nby him, invited me to dine with him every Sabbath, as long as I remained\nhere, and bade his boy procure a respectable lodging for me. The boy\ncame back soon, and conducted me to my lodging. I expected this to be\nonly a small chamber in the house of some poor man. I was therefore not\na little astonished, when I found myself in the house of one of the\noldest Jews of the town, and that here had been prepared for me a neat\nlittle room, which was the study of the master, he and his son being\nboth scholars.\n\nAs soon as I had looked round a little, I went to the housewife, and,\nthrusting some coppers into her hand, I asked her to get me some gruel\nfor supper. She began to smile at my simplicity, and said, \"No, no, sir,\nthat is not our agreement. The chief rabbi has not given you such a\nrecommendation, that you are obliged to have us making you gruel for\nmoney.\" She then went on to explain, that I was not only to lodge in her\nhouse, but also to eat and drink with them, as long as I stayed in the\ntown. I was astonished at this unexpected good fortune; but my delight\nwas still greater, when after supper I was shown to a clean bed. I could\nnot believe my eyes, and asked several times, \"Is this really for me?\" I\ncan say with truth, that never, before or since this incident, have I\nfelt such a degree of happiness, as when I lay down that night, and felt\nmy limbs, which for half a year had been overwearied and almost broken,\nrecovering their former strength in a soft bed.\n\nI slept till late in the day. I had scarcely risen when the chief rabbi\nsent for me to come and see him. When I made my appearance he asked me\nhow I was pleased with my lodging. I could not find words to express my\nfeelings on the subject, and exclaimed in ecstasy, \"I have slept in a\nbed!\" At this the chief rabbi was uncommonly pleased. He then sent for\nthe school precentor, and as soon as this man appeared he said to him,\n\"Go to the shop of ----, and get cloth for a suit to this gentleman.\"\nThereupon he turned to me and asked what sort of stuff I liked.\nOverpowered by the feeling of gratitude and esteem for this excellent\nman I could answer nothing. The tears streaming down my cheeks served\nfor my only answer.\n\nThe chief rabbi also ordered for me some new linen. In two days\neverything was ready. Dressed in my new linen and new suit I went to the\nchief rabbi. I was going to express my gratitude to him, but could\nscarcely get out a few broken words. For the chief rabbi this was a\ncharming sight. He waived my thanks, and said that I was not to think\ntoo highly of him for this, inasmuch as what he had done for me was a\nmere trifle not worth mentioning.\n\nNow the reader may perhaps suppose that this chief rabbi was a wealthy\nman, for whom the expense to which he put himself on my account was\nreally a trifle; but I can give the assurance that this was far from\nbeing the case. He had merely a moderate income; and as he occupied\nhimself wholly with study, his wife had the management of his affairs,\nand especially the charge of housekeeping. Actions of this sort,\ntherefore, had to be done without the knowledge of his wife, and under\nthe pretext that he received from other people the money for the\npurpose. Moreover, he lived a very temperate life, fasted every day\nexcept Sabbath, and never ate flesh the whole week through.\nNevertheless, to satisfy his benevolent inclinations he could not avoid\nmaking debts. His severe manner of life, his many studies and vigils,\nweakened his strength to such a degree that he died about the\nthirty-sixth year of his life. His death took place after he had been\nappointed chief rabbi in F\u00f6rdet, to which place he was followed by a\nlarge number of disciples. I can never think of this godly man without\nbeing deeply affected.\n\nIn my former lodging at the poor tailor's I had left some trifles which\nI now went to fetch. The tailor, his wife, and my former comrade in\nbeggary, who had already heard of the happy change in my affairs,\nexpected me with the greatest impatience. It was a touching scene. The\nman, who three days before arrived in this poor hut, quite debilitated,\nhalf naked, and barefoot, whom the poor inmates of the house regarded as\nan outcast of nature, and whose comrade in linen blouse had looked down\nupon him with mockery and contempt,--this man (his fame before him) now\ncomes into the same hut with a cheerful face, and in reverend garb\ndressed as a chief rabbi.\n\nThey all testified their joy and surprise at the transformation. The\npoor woman took her babe in her arms and, with tears in her eyes, begged\na blessing for him. My comrade begged me very affectingly for\nforgiveness on account of his rough treatment. He said that he deemed\nhimself fortunate in having had such a fellow-traveller, but would hold\nhimself unfortunate if I would not forgive the faults he had committed\nin ignorance. I spoke to them all very kindly, gave the little one my\nblessing, handed to my old comrade all the cash I had in my pocket, and\nwent back deeply affected.\n\nMeanwhile my fame was spread through the whole town by the conduct\ntowards me of the chief rabbi, as well as that of my new host, who was\nhimself a scholar, and had formed a high opinion of my talents and\nlearning from frequent conversations and discussions which we had held\ntogether. All the scholars of the town, therefore, came to see me and\ndiscuss with me as a famous travelling rabbi; and the more intimately\nthey came to know me, so much the higher rose their esteem.\n\nThis period was undoubtedly the happiest and most honourable in my life.\nThe young scholars of the town passed a resolution at their meeting to\nmake up for me a salary, for which I was to deliver lectures to them on\nthe celebrated and profound work of Maimonides, _Moreh Nebhochim_. This\nproposal, however, was never carried out, because the parents of these\nyoung people were anxious lest their children should be thereby led\nastray, and by independent thinking on religion be made to waver in\ntheir faith. They acknowledged indeed that, with all my fondness for\nreligious speculation, I was still a pious man and an orthodox rabbi.\nBut they could not rely upon their children having sufficient judgment,\nto be able to enter upon this course without passing from one extreme to\nthe other, from superstition to unbelief; and therein perhaps they were\nright.\n\nAfter I had spent about four weeks in this way, the man, with whom I\nlodged, came to me, and said, \"Herr Solomon, allow me to make a proposal\nto you. If you are inclined merely to solitary study, you may remain\nhere as long as you like. If, however, you do not wish to withdraw into\nsuch complete retirement, but are inclined to be of service to the world\nwith your talents, there is a wealthy man here--one of the most\nprominent people of the town--who has an only son, and wishes nothing so\nmuch as to have you for his tutor. This man is my brother-in-law. If you\nwill not do it for his sake, please do it for mine, and to gratify the\nchief rabbi, as he has deeply at heart the education of my nephew, who\nis connected by marriage with his family.\" This offer I accepted with\ndelight. I came therefore into this family under advantageous conditions\nas tutor, and remained with them two years in the greatest honour.\nNothing was done in the house without my knowledge. I was always met\nwith the greatest respect. I was held in fact to be almost something\nmore than human.\n\nThus the two years flowed on imperceptibly and happily for me. But\nduring the time some little incidents took place, which I believe should\nnot be altogether omitted in this history.\n\nIn the first place the esteem entertained for me in this house went so\nfar, that _malgr\u00e9 moi_ they were going to make me a prophet. My pupil\nwas betrothed to the daughter of a chief rabbi, who was a brother-in-law\nof the chief rabbi in Posen. The bride, a girl of about twelve years,\nwas brought to Posen by her parents-in-law at the feast of Pentecost. On\nthe occasion of this visit I observed that the girl was of a very\nphlegmatic temperament and somewhat consumptive. I mentioned this to the\nbrother of my host, and added with a significant look, that I was very\nanxious for the girl, as I did not believe that her health would last\nlong. After the feast was over the girl was sent home, and a fortnight\nafterwards a letter was received announcing her death. On this account,\nnot only in the house where I lived, but in the whole town, I was taken\nfor a prophet, who had been able to foretell the death of this girl. As\nI wished nothing less than to deceive, I endeavoured to bring these\nsuperstitious people to a different train of thought. I told them that\nanybody, who had made observations in the world, would have been able to\nforetell the same thing. But it was of no use. Once for all I was a\nprophet, and had to remain one.\n\nAnother incident occurred in a Jewish house one Friday when they were\npreparing fish for the Sabbath. The fish was a carp, and it seemed to\nthe cook who was cutting it up as if it uttered a sound. This threw\neverybody into a panic. The rabbi was asked what should be done with\nthis dumb fish that had ventured to speak. Under the superstitious idea\nthat the carp was possessed with a spirit, the rabbi enjoined that it\nshould be wrapped in a linen cloth, and buried with pomp.\n\nNow, in the house where I lived, this awe-inspiring event became the\nsubject of conversation. Having by this time emancipated myself pretty\nthoroughly from superstitions of this sort by diligent study of the\n_Moreh Nebhochim_, I laughed heartily over the story, and said, that, if\ninstead of burying the carp, they had sent it to me, I should have tried\nhow such an inspired carp would taste.\n\nThis _bon mot_ became known. The learned men fell into a passion about\nit, denounced me as a heretic, and sought to persecute me in every way.\nBut the respect, entertained for me in the house where I was tutor, made\nall their efforts fruitless. As I found myself in this way safe, and the\nspirit of fanaticism, instead of deterring me, rather spurred me on to\nfurther reflection, I began to push matters a little farther, frequently\nslept through the time of prayer, went seldom to the synagogue, and so\non. At last the measure of my sins became so full, that nothing could\nsecure me any longer from persecution.\n\nAt the entrance to the Common Hall in Posen there has been, no one knows\nfor how long, a stag-horn fixed into the wall. The Jews are unanimously\nof the conviction, that any one who touches this horn is sure to die on\nthe spot; and they relate a multitude of instances in proof. This would\nnot go down with me at all, and I made fun of it. So one day when I was\npassing the stag-horn with some other Jews, I said to them, \"You Posen\nfools, do you think that any one who touches this horn must die on the\nspot? See, I dare to touch it!\" Horror-struck, they expected my death\non the spot; but as nothing happened, their anxiety for me was converted\ninto hatred. They looked on me as one who had profaned the sanctuary.\n\nThis fanaticism stirred up in me the desire to go to Berlin, and destroy\nby enlightenment the remnant of superstition which still clung to me. I\ntherefore begged leave of my employer. He expressed the wish indeed,\nthat I should remain longer in his house, and assured me of his\nprotection against all persecution. But as I had once for all taken my\nresolution, I was determined not to alter it. I therefore bade goodbye\nto my employer and his whole family, took a seat on the Frankfurt post,\nand set out for Berlin.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\nArrival in Berlin--Acquaintances--Mendelssohn--Desperate Study of\nMetaphysics--Doubts--Lectures on Locke and Adelung.\n\n\nAs I came to Berlin this time by post, I did not require to remain\noutside the Rosenthaler Gate to be examined by the Jewish elders; I\nproceeded without any difficulty into the city, and was allowed to take\nup my quarters where I chose. To _remain_ in the city, however, was a\ndifferent thing. The Jewish police-officers--L. M. of those days was a\nterrible fellow,--went every day round all the hotels and other houses\ndesigned for the reception of strangers, made inquiry into the quality\nand occupation of newcomers, as well as the probable length of their\nstay, and allowed them no rest till they had either found some\noccupation in the city, or were out of it again, or--the alternative\ngoes without saying. I had taken a lodging on the New Market with a Jew,\nwho was accustomed to receive in his house poor travellers that had not\nmuch to spend, and who the following day received a visit of this sort.\n\nThe Jewish police-officer, L. M., came and examined me in the strictest\nmanner. I told him that I wished to enter into service as a\nfamily-tutor in Berlin, and that therefore the length of my stay could\nnot be exactly determined. I appeared to him suspicious; he believed he\nhad seen me here before, and evidently looked on me as a comet, which\ncomes nearer to the earth the second time than the first, and so makes\nthe danger more threating. But when he saw by me a _Milloth Higgayon_ or\nHebrew Logic, drawn up by Maimonides, and annotated by Mendelssohn, he\nwent into a perfect rage. \"Yes! yes!\" he exclaimed, \"that's the sort of\nbooks for me!\" and as he turned to me with a threatening look, \"Pack,\"\nhe said, \"out of Berlin as quick as you can, if you don't wish to be led\nout with all the honours!\" I trembled, and knew not what to do; but as I\nhad learnt that there was a Polish Jew, a man of talent, residing in\nBerlin for the sake of study, and received with esteem in the best\nfamilies, I paid him a visit.\n\nHe received me as a countryman in a very friendly manner, asked about my\nhome in Poland, and what had brought me to Berlin. When I told him in\nreply, that from my childhood I had discovered an inclination to the\nsciences, had already made myself acquainted with this and that Hebrew\nwork which touches upon these, and now had come to Berlin in order to be\n_Maamik Bechochmah_ (to become absorbed in the sciences), he smiled at\nthis quaint rabbinical phrase, but gave me his full approval; and after\nconversing with me for some time, he begged me to visit him often, which\nI very willingly promised to do, and went away rejoicing in spirit.\n\nThe very next day I visited my Polish friend again, and found with him\nsome young people belonging to a prominent Jewish family, who visited\nhim often, and conversed with him on scientific subjects. They entered\ninto conversation with me, found much amusement in my jargon, as well as\nin my simplicity and open-heartedness; in particular they laughed\nheartily at the phrase, _Maamik Bechochmah_, of which they had heard\nalready. All this gave me courage, and they assured me that I should not\nfind myself mistaken in the expectation of being able to be _Maamik\nBechochmah_ in Berlin. And when I made known my fear about the\nabove-mentioned police-officer, they made me pluck up courage by\npromising to obtain protection for me from their family, so that I might\nremain in Berlin as long as I chose.\n\nThey kept their word, and Herr D---- P----, a well-to-do man of\nexcellent character, of many attainments and fine taste, who was an\nuncle of these young men, not only paid me much attention, but also\nprocured for me a respectable lodging, and invited me to the Sabbath\ndinner. Others of the family also sent me meals at my room on fixed\ndays. Among these was a brother of these young men, in other respects an\nhonourable man, who was not without attainments. But as he was a zealous\nTalmudist, he inquired earnestly whether with my inclination towards the\nsciences I had not quite neglected the Talmud; and as soon as he\nlearnt, that I was so _Maamik Bechochmah_ as to neglect the study of the\nTalmud, he gave up sending me my meals.\n\nAs I now had permission to remain in Berlin, I thought of nothing but\nhow to carry my purpose into effect. Accidentally one day I went into a\nbutter-shop, and found the dealer in the act of anatomising a somewhat\nold book for use in his trade. I looked at it, and found, to my no small\nastonishment, that it was Wolff's _Metaphysics, or the Doctrine of God,\nof the World, and of Man's Soul_. I could not understand, how in a city\nso enlightened as Berlin such important works could be treated in this\nbarbarous fashion. I turned therefore to the dealer, and asked him, if\nhe would not sell the book. He was ready to part with it for two\ngroschen. Without thinking long about it I gave the price at once, and\nwent home delighted with my treasure.\n\nAt the very first reading I was in raptures with the book. Not only this\nsublime science in itself, but also the order and mathematical method of\nthe celebrated author,--the precision of his explanations, the exactness\nof his reasoning, and the scientific arrangement of his exposition,--all\nthis struck a new light in my mind.\n\nWith the Ontology, the Cosmology, and the Psychology all went well; but\nthe Theology created many difficulties, inasmuch as I found its dogmas,\nnot only not in harmony, but even in contradiction, with the preceding\npropositions. At the very beginning I could not assent to Wolff's\nargument _a posteriori_ for the existence of God in accordance with the\nPrinciple of Sufficient Reason; and I raised the objection to it, that,\ninasmuch as, according to Wolff's own confession, the Principle of\nSufficient Reason is abstracted from particular cases of experience, the\nonly point which can be proved by it is, that every object of experience\nmust have its sufficient reason in some other object of experience, but\nnot in an object beyond all experience. I also compared these new\nmetaphysical doctrines with those of Maimonides, or rather of Aristotle,\nwhich were already known to me; and I could not bring them into harmony\nat all.\n\nI resolved therefore to set forth these doubts in the Hebrew language,\nand to send what I wrote to Herr Mendelssohn, of whom I had already\nheard so much. When he received my communication, he was not a little\nastonished at it, and replied to me at once, that in fact my doubts were\nwell founded, that I should not however allow myself to be discouraged\non their account, but should continue to study with the zeal with which\nI had begun.\n\nEncouraged by this, I wrote in Hebrew a dissertation in which I brought\ninto doubt the foundations of Revealed as well as of Natural Theology.\nAll the thirteen articles of faith, laid down by Maimonides, I attacked\nwith philosophical arguments, with the exception of one, namely the\narticle on reward and punishment, which I conceded merely in its\nphilosophical interpretation, as referring to the natural consequences\nof voluntary actions. I sent this dissertation to Mendelssohn, who was\nnot a little amazed, that a Polish Jew, who had scarcely got the length\nof seeing the Metaphysics of Wolff, was already able to penetrate into\ntheir depths so far, that he was in a position to shake their results by\nmeans of a correct Ontology. He invited me to visit him, and I accepted\nhis invitation. But I was so shy, the manners and customs of the\nBerliners were so new to me, it was not without fear and embarrassment,\nthat I ventured to enter a fashionable house. When therefore I opened\nMendelssohn's door, and saw him and other gentlefolks who were there, as\nwell as the beautiful rooms and elegant furniture, I shrank back, closed\nthe door again, and had a mind not to go in. Mendelssohn however had\nobserved me. He came out and spoke to me very kindly, led me into his\nroom, placed himself beside me at the window, and paid me many\ncompliments about my writing. He assured me, that, if I went on in this\nway, I should in a short time make great progress in Metaphysics; and he\npromised also to resolve my doubts. Not satisfied with this, the worthy\nman looked after my maintenance also, recommended me to the most\neminent, enlightened and wealthy Jews, who made provision for my board\nand other wants. Their tables I was at liberty to enjoy when I chose,\nand their libraries were open to my use.\n\nEspecially worthy of mention among these gentlemen was H----, a man of\nmany attainments and excellent disposition, who was a particular friend\nand disciple of Mendelssohn. He took great pleasure in my conversation,\noften discussed with me the most important subjects in Natural Theology\nand Morals, on which I expressed my thoughts to him quite frankly and\nwithout disguise. I went over with him in a conversational way all the\nsystems known to me that are generally denounced, and defended them with\nthe greatest pertinacity. He met me with objections; I answered them,\nand brought in my turn objections against the opposite systems. At first\nthis friend regarded me as a speaking animal, and entertained himself\nwith me, as one is apt to do with a dog or a starling that has been\ntaught to speak a few words. The odd mixture of the animal in my\nmanners, my expressions, and my whole outward behaviour, with the\nrational in my thoughts, excited his imagination more than the subject\nof our conversation roused his understanding. By degrees the fun was\nturned to earnest. He began to give his attention to the subjects\nthemselves; and as, notwithstanding his other capabilities and\nattainments, he had no philosophical head, and the liveliness of his\nimagination generally interfered with the ripeness of his judgment, the\nresults of our conversations may be readily imagined.\n\nA few examples will be sufficient to give an idea of the manner in which\nI conducted a discussion at the time, of the ellipses in my diction\narising from my deficiency in expressions, and of the way in which I\nillustrated everything by examples. I endeavoured once to make\nSpinoza's system intelligible,--to show that all things are merely\naccidents of a single substance. My friend interrupted me and said,\n\"But, good heavens! are not you and I different men, and do we not each\npossess an existence of our own?\" \"Close the shutters,\" I called in\nreply to his objection. This strange expression threw him into\nastonishment; he did not know what I meant. At last I explained myself.\n\"See,\" said I, \"the sun shines through the windows. This square window\ngives you a square reflection, and the round window a round reflection.\nAre they on that account different things, and not rather one and the\nsame sunshine?\"\n\nOn another occasion I defended Helvetius' system of self-love. He\nbrought against it the objection, that we surely love other persons as\nwell as ourselves. \"For instance,\" said he, \"I love my wife;\" and to\nconfirm this he gave her a kiss. \"That proves nothing against me,\" I\nreplied. \"For, why do you kiss your wife? Because you find pleasure in\ndoing it.\"\n\nHerr A---- M---- also, a good honest fellow, and at that time a wealthy\nman, allowed me free access to his house. Here I found Locke in the\nGerman translation, and I was pleased with him at the first hasty\nglance, for I recognised him as the best of the modern philosophers, as\na man who had no interest but the truth. Accordingly I proposed to the\ntutor of Herr A---- M----, that he should take lessons from me on this\nadmirable work. At first he smiled at my simplicity in proposing, that\nI, who had scarcely got the length of seeing Locke, should give lessons\nto him whose native tongue was German, and who had been brought up in\nthe sciences. He acted, however, as if he found nothing offensive in the\nmatter, accepted my proposal, and fixed an hour for the lessons. I\npresented myself at the time appointed, and began the lessons; but as I\ncould not read a word of German correctly, I told my pupil to read aloud\nparagraph by paragraph in the text, and that then I should give him an\nexposition of each. My pupil, who pretended to be in earnest, consented\nto this also, to carry on the joke; but how great was his astonishment\nwhen he found, that no joke was to be played in the matter, that in fact\nmy expositions and remarks, though delivered in my own peculiar\nlanguage, evinced a genuine philosophical spirit.\n\nIt was still more amusing, when I became acquainted with the family of\nWidow Levi, and made the proposal to her son, the young Herr Samuel\nLevi,[53] who is still my Maecenas, that he should take lessons from me\nin the German language. The studious youth, incited by my reputation,\nwas resolved to make a trial, and wished me to explain Adelung's _German\nGrammar_. I, who had never seen Adelung's Grammar, did not allow myself\nto be at all disconcerted on this account.[54] My pupil was obliged to\nread Adelung bit by bit, while I not only expounded it, but added\nglosses of my own. In particular I found a good deal to take exception\nto in Adelung's philosophical explanation of the parts of speech; and I\ndrew up an explanation of my own, which I communicated to my intelligent\npupil, by whom it is still preserved.\n\nAs a man altogether without experience I carried my frankness at times a\nlittle too far, and brought upon myself many vexations in consequence. I\nwas reading Spinoza. His profound thought and his love of truth pleased\nme uncommonly; and as his system had already been suggested to me by the\nCabbalistic writings, I began to reflect upon it anew, and became so\nconvinced of its truth, that all the efforts of Mendelssohn to change my\nopinion were unavailing. I answered all the objections brought against\nit by the Wolfians, brought objections against their system myself, and\nshowed, that, if the _nominal definition_s of the Wolfian Ontology are\nconverted into _real definitions_, conclusions the very opposite of\ntheirs are the result. Moreover, I could not explain the persistency of\nMendelssohn and the Wolfians generally in adhering to their system,\nexcept as a political dodge and a piece of hypocrisy, by which they\nstudiously endeavoured to descend to the mode of thinking common in the\npopular mind; and this conviction I expressed openly and without\nreserve. My friends and well-wishers, who for the most part had never\nthemselves speculated on philosophical subjects, but blindly adopted the\nresults of the systems prevailing at the time as if they were\nestablished truths, did not understand me, and therefore also were\nunable to follow me in my opinions.\n\nMendelssohn, whose usual course was to tack, did not wish to oppose my\nlove of inquiry, secretly even took pleasure in it, and said, that at\npresent indeed I was not on the right road, but that the course of my\nthoughts must not be checked, because, as Descartes rightly remarked,\ndoubt is the beginning of thorough philosophical speculation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\nMendelssohn--A chapter devoted to the memory of a worthy friend.\n\n\n_Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus tam cari capitis?_\n\nThe name of Mendelssohn is too well known to the world, to make it\nnecessary for me here to dwell long on the portraiture of the great\nintellectual and moral qualities of this celebrated man of our nation. I\nshall sketch merely those prominent features of his portrait, which have\nmade the strongest impression upon me. He was a good Talmudist, and a\npupil of the celebrated Rabbi Israel, or, as he is otherwise named after\nthe title of a Talmudic work which he wrote, Nezach Israel (the strength\nof Israel),--a Polish rabbi who was denounced for heresy by his\ncountrymen. This rabbi had, besides his great Talmudic capabilities and\nacquirements, a good deal of scientific talent, especially in\nmathematics, with which he had attained a thorough acquaintance, even in\nPoland, from the few Hebrew writings on this science, as may be seen in\nthe above-mentioned work. In this work there are introduced solutions of\nmany important mathematical problems, which are applied either to the\nexplanation of some obscure passages in the Talmud, or to the\ndetermination of a law. Rabbi Israel of course was more interested in\nthe extension of useful knowledge among his countrymen than in the\ndetermination of a law, which he used merely as a vehicle for the other.\nHe showed, for example, that it is not right for the Jews in our part of\nthe world to turn exactly to the East at prayer; for the Talmudic law\nrequires them to turn to Jerusalem, and, as our part of the world lies\nnorth-west from Jerusalem, they ought to turn to the south-east. He\nshows also how, by means of spherical trigonometry, the required\ndirection may be determined with the utmost exactness in all parts of\nthe world, and many other truths of a similar kind. Along with the\ncelebrated Chief Rabbi Fr\u00e4nkel, he contributed much to develop the great\nabilities of Mendelssohn.\n\nMendelssohn possessed a thorough acquaintance with mathematics; and this\nscience he valued, not only for its self-evidence, but also as the best\nexercise in profound reasoning. That he was a great philosopher, is well\nenough known. He was not indeed an originator of new systems; he had\nhowever amended the old systems, especially the Leibnitio-Wolfian, and\nhad applied it with success to many subjects in philosophy.\n\nIt is hard to say whether Mendelssohn was endowed with more acuteness or\nwith depth of intellect. Both faculties were found united in him in a\nvery high degree. His exactness in definition and classification, and\nhis fine distinctions, are evidences of the former talent, while his\nprofound philosophical treatises afford proofs of the latter.\n\nIn his character, as he himself confessed, he was by nature a man of\nstrong passions, but by long exercise in Stoical morality he had learnt\nto keep them under control. A young man, under the impression that\nMendelssohn had done him a wrong, came one day to upbraid him, and\nindulged in one impertinence after another. Mendelssohn stood leaning on\na chair, never turned his eye from his visitor, and listened to all his\nimpertinences with the utmost Stoical patience. After the young man had\nvented all his passion, Mendelssohn went to him and said, \"Go! You see\nthat you fail to reach your object here; you can't make me angry.\" Still\non such occasions Mendelssohn could not conceal his sorrow at the\nweakness of human nature. Not infrequently I was myself overheated in my\ndisputes with him, and violated the respect due to such a man,--a fact\non which I still reflect with remorse.\n\nMendelssohn possessed deep knowledge of human nature,--a knowledge which\nconsists not so much in seizing some unconnected features of a\ncharacter, and representing them in theatrical fashion, as in\ndiscovering those essential features of a character, from which all the\nothers may be explained, and in some measure predicted. He was able to\ndescribe accurately all the springs of action and the entire moral\nwheelwork of a man, and understood thoroughly the mechanism of the soul.\nThis gave a character, not only to his intercourse and other dealings\nwith men, but also to his literary labours.\n\nMendelssohn understood the useful and agreeable art of throwing himself\ninto another person's mode of thought. He could thus supply whatever was\ndeficient, and fill up the gaps in the thoughts of another. Jews newly\narrived from Poland, whose thoughts are for the most part confused, and\nwhose language is an unintelligible jargon, Mendelssohn could understand\nperfectly. In his conversations with them he adopted their expressions\nand forms of speech, sought to bring down his mode of thinking to\ntheirs, and thus to raise theirs to his own.\n\nHe understood also the art of finding out the good side of every man and\nof every event. Not infrequently, therefore, he found entertainment in\npeople whose intercourse, owing to the eccentric use of their powers, is\nby others avoided; and only downright stupidity and dullness were\noffensive to him, though they were so in the highest degree. I was once\nan eye-witness of the manner in which he entertained himself with a man\nof the most eccentric style of thinking and the most extravagant\nbehaviour. I lost all patience on the occasion, and after the man was\ngone I asked Mendelssohn in wonder, \"How could you have anything to do\nwith this fellow?\" \"We examine attentively,\" he said, \"a machine whose\nconstruction is unknown to us, and we seek to make intelligible its mode\nof working. Should not this man claim a like attention? should we not\nseek in the same way to render intelligible his odd utterances, since he\ncertainly has his springs of action and his wheelwork as well as any\nmachine?\"\n\nIn discussion with a reasoner who held stubbornly to a system once\nadopted Mendelssohn was stubborn himself, and took advantage of the\nslightest inaccuracy in his opponent's way of thinking. On the other\nhand, with a more accommodating thinker he was accommodating also, and\nused commonly to close the discussion with the words, \"We must hold\nfast, not to mere words, but to the things they signify.\"\n\nNothing was so offensive to him as an _esprit de bagatelle_ or\naffectation; with anything of this sort he could not conceal his\ndispleasure. H---- once invited a party, in which Mendelssohn was the\nprincipal guest, and he entertained them the whole time with talk about\nsome hobby of his, which was not exactly of the choicest kind.\nMendelssohn showed his displeasure by never deigning to give the\nslightest attention to the worthless creature. Madam ---- was a lady who\naffected an excess of sensibility, and as is customary with such\ncharacters, used to reproach herself in order to extort praise from\nothers. Mendelssohn sought to bring her to reason by showing her\nimpressively how exceptionable her conduct was and how she ought to\nthink seriously about improvement.\n\nIn a disconnected conversation he took little part himself; he acted\nrather as observer then, and took pleasure in watching the conduct of\nthe rest of the company. If, on the other hand, the conversation was\ncoherent, he took the warmest interest in it himself, and, by a skilful\nturn, he could, without interrupting the conversation, give it a useful\ndirection.\n\nMendelssohn could never take up his mind with trifles; matters of the\ngreatest moment kept him in restless activity, such as the principles of\nMorals and of Natural Theology, the immortality of the soul, etc. In all\nthese branches of inquiry, in which humanity is so deeply interested, he\nhas also, as I hold, done as much as can be done on the principles of\nthe Leibnitio-Wolfian philosophy. Perfection was the compass which he\nhad constantly before his eyes, and which directed his course, in all\nthese investigations. His God is the Ideal of the highest perfection,\nand the idea of the highest perfection lies at the basis of his Ethics.\nThe principle of his \u00c6sthetics is sensuous perfection.\n\nMy discussion with him on our first acquaintance referred mainly to the\nfollowing points. I was a faithful adherent of Maimonides before I\nbecame acquainted with modern philosophy; and, as such, I insisted on\nthe negation[55] of all positive attributes to God, inasmuch as these\ncan be represented by us only as finite. Accordingly I proposed the\nfollowing dilemma: Either God is not the absolutely perfect being, in\nwhich case his attributes may by us be not only _conceived_, but also\n_known_, that is, represented as realities belonging to an object; or He\n_is_ the absolutely perfect being, and then the idea of God is conceived\nby us, but its reality is merely _assumed_ as problematic. Mendelssohn,\non the other hand, insisted on the affirmation, with regard to God, of\nall realities,--a position which goes very well with the\nLeibnitio-Wolfian philosophy, because it requires, in order to prove the\nreality of an idea, nothing more than that it is thinkable, that is,\nfulfils the law of Non-Contradiction.\n\nMy moral theory was then genuine Stoicism. It aimed at the attainment of\nfree will and the ascendency of reason over the feelings and passions.\nIt made the highest destination of man to be the maintenance of his\n_differentia specifica_, the knowledge of the truth; and all other\nimpulses, common to us with the irrational animals, were to be put in\noperation merely as means to this chief end. The knowledge of the good\nwas not distinguished by me from the knowledge of the true; for,\nfollowing Maimonides, I held the knowledge of the truth to be the\nhighest good of man. Mendelssohn, on the other hand, maintained that the\nidea of perfection, which lies at the basis of Ethics, is of much wider\nextent than the mere knowledge of the truth. All natural impulses,\ncapacities and powers, as something good in themselves (not merely as\nmeans to something good), were to be brought into exercise as realities.\nThe highest perfection was the idea of the maximum, or the greatest sum,\nof these realities.\n\nThe immortality of the soul, for me, following Maimonides, consisted in\nthe union with the Universal Spirit of that part of the faculty of\nknowledge which has been brought into exercise, in proportion to the\ndegree of that exercise; and in accordance with this doctrine I held\nthose only to be partakers of this immortality, who occupy themselves\nwith the knowledge of eternal truths, and in the degree in which they do\nso. The soul, therefore, must, with the attainment of this high\nimmortality, lose its individuality. That Mendelssohn, in accordance\nwith modern philosophy, thought differently on this subject, every one\nwill readily believe.\n\nHis sentiments in reference to revealed or positive religion I can give\nhere, not as something made known to me by himself, but merely in so far\nas I have been able to infer them from his utterances on the subject in\nhis writings with the assistance of my own reflections. For at that\ntime, as an incipient freethinker, I explained all revealed religion as\nin itself false, and its use, so far as the writings of Mendelssohn had\nenabled me to understand it, as merely temporary. Moreover, being a man\nwithout experience, I thought it an easy matter to convince others in\nopposition to their firmly rooted habits and long-cherished prejudices,\nwhile I assumed the usefulness of such a reformation to be undoubted.\nMendelssohn therefore was unable to hold any conversation with me on the\nsubject, since he could not but fear lest, as has happened, and happens\nstill, in the case of several others, I should pronounce his arguments\nin reply to be mere pieces of sophistry, and should attribute motives to\nhim on that account. From his utterances, however, in the preface to his\n_Manasseh ben Israel_ as well as in his _Jerusalem_, it is clear that,\nthough he did not consider any revealed _doctrines_ to be eternal\ntruths, yet he accepted revealed laws of religion as such, and that he\nheld the laws of the Jewish religion, as the fundamental laws of a\ntheocratic constitution, to be immutable as far as circumstances allow.\n\nSo far as I am concerned, I am led to assent entirely to Mendelssohn's\nreasoning by my own reflections on the fundamental laws of the religion\nof my fathers. The fundamental laws of the Jewish religion are at the\nsame time the fundamental laws of the Jewish state. They must therefore\nbe obeyed by all who acknowledge themselves to be members of this state,\nand who wish to enjoy the rights granted to them under condition of\ntheir obedience. But, on the other hand, any man who separates himself\nfrom this state, who desires to be considered no longer a member of it,\nand to renounce all his rights as such, whether he enters another state\nor betakes himself to solitude, is also in his conscience no longer\nbound to obey those laws. I assent moreover to Mendelssohn's remark,\nthat a Jew cannot, by simply passing over to the Christian religion,\nfree himself from the laws of his own religion, because Jesus of\nNazareth observed these laws himself and commanded his followers to\nobserve them. But how, if a Jew wishes to be no longer a member of this\ntheocratic state, and goes over to the heathen religion, or to the\nphilosophical, which is nothing more than pure natural religion? How,\nif, merely as a member of a political state, he submits to its laws, and\ndemands from it his rights in return, without making any declaration\nwhatever about his religion, since the state is reasonable enough not to\nrequire from him a declaration with which it has nothing to do? I do not\nbelieve Mendelssohn would maintain that even in this case a Jew is bound\nin conscience to observe the laws of his fathers' religion merely\nbecause it is the religion of his fathers. As far as is known,\nMendelssohn lived in accordance with the laws of his religion.\nPresumably, therefore, he always regarded himself as still a member of\nthe theocratic state of his fathers, and consequently acted up to his\nduty in this respect. But any man who abandons this state is acting just\nas little in violation of his duty.\n\nOn the other hand I consider it wrong in Jews, who from family\nattachments and interests profess the Jewish religion, to transgress its\nlaws, where, according to their own opinion, these do not stand in the\nway of those motives. I cannot therefore understand the conduct of\nMendelssohn in reference to a Jew of Hamburg who openly transgressed\nthe laws of his religion, and who was on that account excommunicated by\nthe chief rabbi. Mendelssohn wanted to cancel the excommunication on the\nground that the church has no rights in civil matters. But how can he\nthen maintain the perpetuity of the Jewish ecclesiastical state? For\nwhat is a state without rights, and wherein consists, according to\nMendelssohn, the rights of this ecclesiastical state? \"How,\" says\nMendelssohn, (in the preface to _Manasseh ben Israel_, p. 48), \"can a\nstate allow one of its useful and respected citizens to suffer\nmisfortune through its laws?\" Surely not, I reply; but the Hamburg Jew\nsuffers no misfortune by virtue of the excommunication. He required only\nto say or do nothing which legally leads to this result, and he would\nthen have avoided the sentence. For excommunication is merely tantamount\nto saying:--\"So long as you put yourself in opposition to the laws of\nour communion, you are excluded from it; and you must therefore make up\nyour mind whether this open disobedience or the privileges of our\ncommunion can most advance your blessedness.\" This surely cannot have\nescaped a mind like Mendelssohn's, and I leave it to others to decide\nhow far a man may be inconsistent for the sake of human welfare.\n\nMendelssohn had to endure many an injustice at the hands of otherwise\nestimable men, from whom such treatment might least have been expected.\nLavater's officiousness is well enough known, and disapproved by all\nright-thinking men.[56] The profound Jacobi had a predilection for\nSpinozism, with which surely no independent thinker can find fault, and\nwanted to make out Mendelssohn, as well as his friend Lessing, to be\nSpinozists, in spite of themselves. With this view he published a\ncorrespondence on the subject, which was never intended to appear in\nprint, and be subjected to public inspection. What was the use of this?\nIf Spinozism is true, it is so without Mendelssohn's assent. Eternal\ntruths have nothing to do with the majority of votes, and least of all\nwhere, as I hold, the truth is of such a nature, that it leaves all\nexpression behind.\n\nSuch an injustice must have given Mendelssohn much annoyance. A\ncelebrated physician maintained even, that it caused his death; but,\nthough I am not a physician, I venture to gainsay the assertion.\nMendelssohn's conduct in relation to Jacobi, as well as to Lavater, was\nthat of a hero. No, no! this hero died in the fifth act.\n\nThe acute preacher, Jacob, in Halle published, after Mendelssohn's\ndeath, a book entitled, _Examination of Mendelssohn's Morgenstunden_, in\nwhich he shows that, according to the _Critique of Pure Reason_, all\nmetaphysical doctrines are to be rejected as baseless. But why does this\nconcern Mendelssohn more than any other metaphysician? Mendelssohn did\nnothing but develop to greater completeness the Leibnitio-Wolfian\nphilosophy, apply it to many important subjects of human inquiry, and\nclothe it in an attractive garb. It is just as if any one were to attack\nMaimonides, who has written an excellent astronomical treatise on\nPtolemaic principles, by writing a book with the title, _Examination of\nthe Hilchoth Kidush Hakodesh of Maimonides_, in which he should seek to\nrefute his author on Newtonian principles! But enough of this.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\nMy aversion at first for belles lettres, and my subsequent\nconversion--Departure from Berlin--Sojourn in Hamburg--I drown myself in\nthe same way as a bad actor shoots himself--An old fool of a woman falls\nin love with me, but her addresses are rejected.\n\n\nFor _belles lettres_ I discovered not the slightest inclination; I could\nnot even conceive how any man was to form a science of what pleases or\ndispleases--a matter which, according to my opinion at the time, could\nhave merely a subjective ground. One day when I was taking a walk with\nMendelssohn, our conversation fell upon the subject of the poets, whom\nhe recommended me to read. \"No,\" I replied, \"I am going to read none of\nthe poets. What is a poet but a liar?\" Mendelssohn smiled at this and\nsaid, \"You agree in this with Plato, who banished all poets from his\nRepublic. But I hope that with time you will think differently on the\nsubject.\" And so it happened soon.\n\nLonginus' _On the Sublime_ fell into my hand. The examples of the\nsublime which he adduces from Homer, and particularly the celebrated\npassage of Sappho, made a deep impression on my mind. I thought to\nmyself, these are but foolish trifles, it is true, but the imagery and\ndescriptions are really very beautiful. After that I read Homer himself,\nand was forced to laugh heartily at the foolish fellow. What a serious\nair, I said to myself, over such childless stories! By and by, however,\nI found a great deal of pleasure in the reading. Ossian, on the other\nhand, whom I got to read afterwards (of course only in German\ntranslations) produced on me a peculiarly awe-inspiring effect. The pomp\nof his style, the impressive brevity of his descriptions, the purity of\nhis sentiments, the simplicity of the objects described by him, and\nlastly, the similarity of his poetry to that of the Hebrews, charmed me\nuncommonly. Thus I found also a great deal of gratification in Gessner's\nIdylls.\n\nMy friend, the Pole of whom I spoke in the preceding chapter, who\noccupied himself mainly with _belles lettres_, was greatly delighted at\nmy conversion. I used to dispute with him the utility of these studies;\nand once, when he was reading to me as a model of vigour in expression a\npassage of the Psalms, in which King David shows himself a master in\ncursing, I interrupted him with the words, \"What sort of an art is this?\nWhy, my mother-in-law--God bless her!--when she was squabbling with a\nneighbour woman, used to curse much more wildly than that!\"\n\nNow, however, he had his triumph over me. Mendelssohn also and my other\nfriends were uncommonly pleased at this change. They wished me to devote\nmyself regularly to the _humaniora_, as without these a man can\nscarcely make his own intellectual productions useful to the world. It\nwas very difficult, however, to convince me of this. I was always in\nhaste to enjoy the present, without thinking that, by due preparation, I\ncould make this enjoyment greater and more lasting.\n\nI now found gratification, not only in the study of the sciences, but\ngenerally in everything good and beautiful, with which I became\nacquainted; and I carried this out with an enthusiasm which passed all\nlimits. The hitherto suppressed inclination to the pleasures of sense\nalso asserted its claims. The first occasion of this was the following.\nFor many years some men, who were occupied in various kinds of teaching,\nhad insinuated themselves into the most prominent and wealthy families\nof the Jewish nation. They devoted themselves especially to the French\nlanguage (which was then regarded as the highest point of\nenlightenment), to geography, arithmetic, bookkeeping, and similar\nstudies. They had also made themselves familiar with some phrases and\nimperfectly understood results of the more profound sciences and\nphilosophical systems, while their intercourse with the fair sex was\nmarked by studious gallantry. As a result of all this, they were great\nfavourites in the families where they visited, and were regarded as\nclever fellows. Now, they began to observe that my reputation was always\non the increase, and that the respect for my attainments and talents\nwent so far, that they were being thrown wholly into the shade.\nAccordingly they thought of a stratagem, by which they might be able to\nward off the threatened evil.\n\nThey resolved to draw me into their company, to show me every\ndemonstration of friendship, and to render me every possible service. By\nthis means they hoped, in the first place, as a result of our\nintercourse, to win for themselves some of the respect which was shown\nto me, and, in the second place, to obtain, from my frank and\ncommunicative spirit, some additional knowledge of those sciences which\nas yet they knew only in name. But, in the third place, as they knew my\nenthusiasm for everything which I once recognised as good, they expected\nto intoxicate me with the allurements of sensual pleasure, and to cool\nin some measure my ardour in the study of science, which would at the\nsame time alienate my friends, my intimacy with whom made them so\njealous.\n\nAccordingly they invited me into their society, testified their\nfriendship and esteem for me, and begged the honour of my company.\nSuspecting no harm, I received their advances with pleasure, especially\nas I reflected that Mendelssohn and my other friends were too grand for\neveryday intercourse with me. It became therefore a very desirable\nobject with me, to find some friends of a middle class, with whom I\ncould associate _sans fa\u00e7on_, and enjoy the charms of familiarity. My\nnew friends took me into gay society, to taverns, on pleasure\nexcursions, at last also to ----;[57] and all this at their own\nexpense. I, on my side, in my happy humour, opened up to them in return\nall the mysteries of philosophy, explained to them in detail all the\npeculiar systems, and corrected their ideas on various subjects of human\nknowledge. But as things of this sort cannot be poured into a man's\nhead, and as these gentlemen had no special capacity for them, of course\nthey were not able to make any great progress by this kind of\ninstruction. When I observed this, I began to express some sort of\ncontempt for them, and made no attempt to conceal the fact, that it was\nmainly the roast and the wine that gave me pleasure in their company.\nThis did not please them particularly; and as they were unable to reach\ntheir object with me completely, they tried to reach it at least in\npart. They told tales to my grand friends behind my back about the most\ntrifling incidents and expressions. For instance, they asserted that I\ncharged Mendelssohn with being a philosophical hypocrite, that I\ndeclared others to be endowed with but shallow pates, that I was seeking\nto spread dangerous systems, and that I was wholly abandoned to\nEpicureanism. (As if they were genuine Stoics!) They even began at last\nopenly to manifest their enmity.\n\nAll this of course had its effect; and to add to the impression, my\nfriends observed that in my studies I followed no fixed plan, but merely\nmy inclination. Accordingly they proposed to me that I should study\nmedicine, but could not induce me to do it. I observed that the theory\nof medicine contains many departments as auxiliary sciences, each of\nwhich requires a specialist for its thorough mastery, while the practice\nof medicine implies a peculiar genius and faculty of judgment, that are\nseldom to be met with. I observed at the same time, that the most of\nphysicians take advantage of the ignorance of the public. In accordance\nwith established usage they spend some years at the universities, where\nthey have an opportunity indeed of attending all the lectures, but in\npoint of fact attend very few. At the close of their course, by means of\nmoney and fair words, they get a dissertation written for them; and\nthus, after a very simple fashion, become medical practitioners.\n\nAs already mentioned, I had a great liking for painting; but I was\nadvised against this, because I was already well advanced in years, and\nconsequently might not have sufficient patience for the minute exercises\nrequired for this art. At last the proposal was made to me, to learn\npharmacy; and as I had already obtained some acquaintance with physics\nas well as chemistry, I consented. My object in this, however, was not\nto make any practical use of my attainments, but merely to acquire\ntheoretical knowledge. Accordingly, instead of setting to with my own\nhands, and thereby acquiring expertness in this art, at important\nchemical processes I played the part of a mere spectator. In this way I\nlearnt pharmacy, yet without being in the position of becoming an\napothecary. After the lapse of a three years' apprenticeship, Madame\nRosen, in whose shop I was apprenticed, was duly paid by H. J. D. the\npromised fee of sixty thalers. I received a certificate, that I had\nperfectly mastered the art of pharmacy; and this ended the whole matter.\n\nThis, however, contributed not a little to alienate my friends. At last\nMendelssohn asked me to come and see him, when he informed me of this\nalienation, and pointed out to me its causes. They complained, (1) that\nI had not made up my mind to any plan of life, and had thereby rendered\nfruitless all their exertions in my behalf; (2) that I was trying to\nspread dangerous opinions and systems; and (3) that, according to\ngeneral rumour, I was leading a rather loose life, and was very much\naddicted to sensual pleasures.\n\nThe first of these complaints I endeavoured to answer by referring to\nthe fact, which I had mentioned to my friends at the very first, that,\nin consequence of my peculiar training, I was indisposed for any kind of\nbusiness, and adapted merely for a quiet speculative life, by which I\ncould not only satisfy my natural inclination, but also, by teaching and\nsimilar means, provide for my support in a certain fashion. \"As to the\nsecond point,\" I proceeded, \"the opinions and systems referred to are\neither true or false. If the former, then I do not see how the knowledge\nof the truth can do any harm. If the latter, then let them be refuted.\nMoreover, I have explained these opinions and systems only to gentlemen\nwho desire to be enlightened, and to rise above all prejudices. But the\ntruth is, that it is not the mischievous nature of the opinions, it is\nthe incapacity of those gentlemen to comprehend them, coupled with their\nreluctance to make such a humiliating confession, that sets them in arms\nagainst me. In reference to the third reproach, however, I must say with\ndownright honesty, Herr Mendelssohn, we are all Epicureans. The\nmoralists can prescribe to us merely rules of prudence; that is to say,\nthey can prescribe the use of means for the attainment of given ends,\nbut not the ends themselves. But,\" I added, \"I see clearly that I must\nquit Berlin; whither, is a matter of indifference.\" With this I bade\nMendelssohn farewell. He gave me a very favourable testimonial of my\ncapabilities and talents, and wished me a prosperous journey.\n\nTo my other friends also I bade farewell, and in brief but emphatic\nterms thanked them for the favours they had shown. One of my friends was\ntaken aback, when I bade him goodbye, at my using the brief form, \"I\nhope you will enjoy good health, my dear friend; and I thank you for all\nthe favours you have bestowed upon me.\" It seemed to this excellent, but\nprosaically poetical man, as if the form were too curt and dry for all\nhis friendliness towards me. So he replied with evident displeasure, \"Is\nthis all that you have learnt in Berlin?\" I made no answer, however, but\nwent away, booked by the Hamburg post, and departed from Berlin.\n\nOn leaving I received from Samuel Levi[58] a letter of introduction to\none of his correspondents. When I arrived in Hamburg, I went to the\nmerchant to whom this letter was addressed, and delivered it. He\nreceived me well, and invited me to his table during my stay in the\ncity. But as he knew nothing except how to make money, and took no\nparticular interest in scholarship or science, he evidently entertained\nme merely on account of my letter of introduction, because he had to do\nsomething to gratify his correspondent. As I knew nothing of trade,\nhowever, and besides made no very presentable figure, he endeavoured to\nget rid of me as soon as possible, and with a view to that asked me\nwhere I meant to go when I left Hamburg. When I replied that I was going\nto Holland, he gave me the well-meant advice to hasten my departure, as\nthis was the best season of the year for travelling.\n\nAccordingly I took out a passage on a Hamburg vessel that was to sail\nfor Holland in two or three weeks. For travelling companions I had two\nbarbers, a tailor, and a shoemaker. These fellows made themselves merry,\ncaroused bravely, and sang all sorts of songs. In this joviality I could\nnot take a part; in fact they scarcely understood my language, and\nteased me on that account in a thousand ways, though I bore it all with\npatience. The vessel glided pleasantly down the Elbe to a village at\nthe mouth of the river some miles below Hamburg. Here we were obliged to\nlie about six weeks, prevented by contrary winds from putting out to\nsea. The ship's crew, along with the other passengers, went to the\nvillage tavern, where they drank and played. For me, however, the time\nbecame very dreary, and I was besides so sick, that I nearly despaired\nof my recovery.\n\nAt last we got a favourable wind, the vessel stood out to sea, and on\nthe third day after our departure we arrived before Amsterdam. A boat\ncame out to the ship to take the passengers into the city. At first I\nwould not trust myself to the Dutch boatman, because I was afraid of\nfalling into the hands of the crimps, against whom I had been warned in\nHamburg; but the captain of our ship assured me that he knew the boatman\nwell, and that I might trust myself to him without any anxiety.\nAccordingly I came into the city; but as I had no acquaintances here,\nand as I knew that at the Hague there was a gentleman belonging to a\nprominent Berlin family, and that he had obtained from Berlin a tutor\nwith whom I was acquainted, I set out for that place in a drag-boat.\n\nHere I took lodgings at the house of a poor Jewish woman, but before I\nhad time to rest from my journey, a man of tall, spare figure, in untidy\nclothing, and with a pipe in his mouth, came in, and, without observing\nme, commenced to speak with my landlady. At last she said to him, \"Herr\nH----, here is a stranger from Berlin; pray, speak to him.\" The man\nthereupon turned to me, and asked me who I was. With my usual\ninstinctive frankness and love of truth, I told him that I was born in\nPoland, that my love of the sciences had induced me to spend some years\nin Berlin, and that now I had come to Holland with the intention of\nentering some situation, if an opportunity offered itself. When he heard\nthat I was a man of learning, he began to speak with me on various\nsubjects in philosophy, and especially in mathematics, in which he had\ndone a good deal. He found in me a man after his own heart, and we\nformed at once a bond of friendship with one another.\n\nI now went to seek the tutor from Berlin, to whom I referred before. He\nintroduced me to his employer as a man of high talent, who had made a\ngreat figure in Berlin, and had brought letters of introduction from\nthat city. This gentleman, who made much of his tutor, as well as of\neverything that came from Berlin, invited me to dinner. As my external\nappearance did not appear to promise much, and I was besides thoroughly\nexhausted and depressed by my sea-voyage, I made a comical figure at\ntable, and our host evidently did not know what to think of me. But as\nhe put great confidence in the written recommendation of Mendelssohn and\nthe oral recommendation of his tutor, he suppressed his astonishment,\nand invited me to his table as long as I chose to remain here. In the\nevening he invited his brothers-in-law to meet me. They were children of\nB----, celebrated for his wealth as well as his beneficence; and as\nthey were men of learning themselves, they were expected to sound me.\nThey conversed with me on various subjects in the Talmud, and even in\nthe Cabbalah. As I showed myself thoroughly initiated into the mysteries\nof this sort of learning, even explained to them passages which they\nregarded as inexplicable, and untied the most complicated knots of\nargument, their admiration was excited, and they believed they had come\nupon a great man.\n\nIt was not long, however, before their admiration turned to hatred. The\noccasion of this was the following. In connection with the Cabbalah they\ntold me of a godly man, who had now for many years been a resident of\nLondon, and who was able to perform miracles by means of the Cabbalah. I\nexpressed some doubts on the subject, but they assured me they had been\npresent at performances of the kind during this man's residence at the\nHague. To this I replied as a philosopher, that I did not indeed\nquestion the truth of their statement, but that perhaps they had not\nduly investigated the matter themselves, and gave out their\npre-conceived opinions as facts. Moreover, I declared that I must regard\nwith scepticism the effect of the Cabbalah in general, until it is shown\nthat that effect is of such a kind as cannot be explained in accordance\nwith the known laws of Nature. This declaration they held to be heresy.\n\nAt the end of the meal the wine-cup was passed to me, that I might, in\naccordance with the usual custom, pronounce the blessing over it. This\nhowever I declined with the explanation, that I did so not from any\nfalse shame of speaking before a number of men, because in Poland I had\nbeen a rabbi, and had very often held disputations and delivered sermons\nbefore large assemblies, and, in order to prove this, was now willing to\ndeliver public lectures every day. It was merely, I explained further,\nthe love of truth and the reluctance to do anything inconsistent, that\nmade it impossible for me, without manifest aversion, to say prayers\nwhich I regarded as a result of an anthropomorphic system of theology.\n\nAt this their patience was completely exhausted; they reviled me as a\ndamnable heretic, and declared it would be a deadly sin to tolerate me\nin a Jewish house. Our host, who was no philosopher indeed, but a\nreasonable and enlightened man, did not mind much what they said; my\nhumble talents were of more value in his eyes than my piety. Accordingly\nthey broke up immediately after dinner, and left the house in deep\ndispleasure; but all their subsequent efforts to drive me from their\nbrother-in-law's house were fruitless. I remained in it about nine\nmonths, lived at perfect freedom, but very retired, without any\noccupation or any rational society.\n\nHere I cannot pass over in silence an event which was remarkable both in\na psychological and in a moral point of view. In Holland I wanted\nnothing but an occupation suited to my powers, and naturally, therefore,\nI became hypochondriac. From feelings of satiety, not infrequently I\nfell upon the idea of making away with myself, and of thus putting an\nend to an existence which had become a burden to me. But no sooner did I\ncome to action, than the love of life always assumed the upper hand\nagain. Once, at the Feast of Haman, in accordance with the custom of the\nJews, I had banquetted very heartily in the house where I took my meals.\nAfter the feast, about midnight I returned to my lodging; and as I had\nto pass along one of the canals that are laid out everywhere in Holland,\nit occurred to me that this was a very convenient opportunity for\ncarrying out the design which I had often formed. I thought to myself,\n\"My life is a burden. At present, indeed, I have no wants; but how will\nit be with me in the future, and by what means shall I preserve my life,\nsince I am of no use for anything in the world? I have already resolved,\non cool reflection at different times, to put an end to my life, and\nnothing but my cowardice has restrained me hitherto. Now, when I am\npretty drunk, on the brink of a deep canal, the thing may be done in a\nmoment without any difficulty.\" Already I had bent my body over the\ncanal, in order to plunge in; but only the upper part of the body obeyed\nthe command of the mind, trusting that the lower part would certainly\nrefuse its services for such a purpose. So I stood for a good while with\nhalf the body bent over the water, and propped myself carefully with my\nlegs firmly planted on the ground, so that a spectator might have\nfancied I was merely making my bow to the water. This hesitation\ndestroyed my whole plan. I felt like a man who is going to take\nmedicine, but, wanting the resolution required, raises the cup time\nafter time to his mouth, and sets it down again. I began at last to\nlaugh at myself, as I reflected that my sole motive for suicide was a\nreal superfluity for the present and an imaginary want for the\nfuture.[59] I therefore let the project drop for the time being, went\nhome, and thus brought the serio-comic scene to an end.\n\nStill another comical scene must be mentioned here. At the Hague there\nlived at that time a woman of about forty-five, who was said to have\nbeen very pretty in youth, and supported herself by giving lessons in\nFrench. One day she called upon me at my lodging, introduced herself,\nand expressed an irresistible desire for scientific conversation. She\ndeclared therefore that she would visit me frequently in my lodging, and\nrequested the honour of a visit from me in return.\n\nThis advance I met with great pleasure, returned her visits several\ntimes; and thus our intercourse became more and more intimate. We\nconversed usually on subjects in philosophy and _belles lettres_. As I\nwas still at that time a married man, and, except for her enthusiasm in\nlearning, Madam had little attraction for me, I thought of nothing\nbeyond mere entertainment. The lady, however, who had been a widow now\nfor a pretty long while, and had, according to her own story, conceived\nan affection for me, began to express this by looks and words in a\nromantic manner, which struck me as very comical. I could never believe,\nthat a lady could fall in love with me in earnest. Her expressions of\naffection therefore I took for mere airs of affectation. She, on the\nother hand, showed herself more and more in earnest, became at times\nthoughtful in the midst of our conversation, and burst into tears.\n\nIt was during a conversation of this sort, that we fell upon the subject\nof love. I told her frankly, that I could not love a woman except for\nthe sake of womanly excellences, such as beauty, grace, agreeableness,\netc., and that any other excellences she might possess, such as talents\nor learning, could excite in me only esteem, but by no means love. The\nlady adduced against me arguments _a priori_ as well as instances from\nexperience, especially from French novels, and tried to correct my\nnotions of love. I could not, however, be so easily convinced; and as\nthe lady was carrying her airs to an absurd length, I rose and took my\nleave. She accompanied me to the very door, grasped me by the hand, and\nwould not let me go. I asked her somewhat sharply, \"What's the matter\nwith you, madam?\" With trembling voice and tearful eyes she replied, \"I\nlove you.\"\n\nWhen I heard this laconic declaration of love, I began to laugh\nimmoderately, tore myself from her grasp, and rushed away. Some time\nafterwards she sent me the following _billet doux_:--\n\n/p\n      \"Sir,\np/\n\nI have been greatly mistaken in your character. I took you for a man of\nnoble thoughts and exalted feelings; but I see now that you are a\ngenuine Epicurean. You seek nothing but pleasure. A woman can please you\nonly on account of her beauty. A Madame Dacier, for example, who has\nstudied thoroughly all the Greek and Latin authors, translated them into\nher native language, and enriched them with learned annotations, could\nnot please you. Why? Because she is not pretty. Sir, you, who are\notherwise so enlightened, ought to be ashamed to cherish such pernicious\nprinciples; and if you will not repent, then tremble before the revenge\nof the injured love of\n\n/p\n      Yours, etc.\"\np/\n\nTo this I returned the following reply:--\n\n/p\n      \"Madam,\np/\n\nThat you have been mistaken, is shown by the result. You say that I am a\ngenuine Epicurean. In this you do me a great honour. Much as I abhor the\ntitle of an _epicure_, on the other hand I feel proud of the title of\n_genuine Epicurean_. Certainly it is beauty alone that pleases me in a\nwoman; but as this can be heightened by other qualities, these must also\nbe pleasing as means towards the chief end. On the other hand, I can\nmerely _esteem_ such a woman on account of her talents; _love_ her I\ncannot, as I have already explained in conversation. For the learning of\nMadame Dacier I have all respect: she could at all events fall in love\nwith the Greek heroes who were at the siege of Troy, and expect in\nreturn the love of their _manes_ that were constantly hovering around\nher; but nothing more. For the rest, Madam, as far as your revenge is\nconcerned, I do not fear it, since Time, which destroys all things, has\nshattered your weapons, that is, your teeth and nails.\n\n/p\n      Yours, etc.\"\np/\n\nThus ended this strange love-affair.\n\nI discovered that in Holland there was nothing for me to do, inasmuch as\nthe main desire of the Dutch Jews is to make money, and they manifest no\nparticular liking for the sciences. Besides, in consequence of not\nknowing the Dutch language, I was unable to give instructions in any\nscience. I determined therefore to return to Berlin by Hamburg, but\nfound an opportunity of travelling to Hanover by land. In Hanover I went\nto a wealthy Jew,--a man who does not deserve even to enjoy his\nriches,--showed him my letter of introduction from Mendelssohn, and\nrepresented to him the urgency of my present circumstances. He read\nMendelssohn's letter carefully through, called for pen and ink, and,\nwithout speaking a word to me, wrote at the foot:--\"I also hereby\ncertify that what Herr Mendelssohn writes in praise of Herr Solomon is\nperfectly correct.\" And with this he dismissed me.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\nI return to Hamburg--A Lutheran Pastor pronounces me to be a scabby\nSheep, and unworthy of Admission into the Christian Fold--I enter the\nGymnasium, and frighten the Chief Rabbi out of his Wits.\n\n\nI made a prosperous journey back to Hamburg, but here I fell into\ncircumstances of the deepest distress. I lodged in a miserable house,\nhad nothing to eat, and did not know what to do. I had received too much\neducation to return to Poland, to spend my life in misery without\nrational occupation or society, and to sink back into the darkness of\nsuperstition and ignorance, from which I had hardly delivered myself\nwith so much labour. On the other hand, to succeed in Germany was a\nresult on which I could not calculate, owing to my ignorance of the\nlanguage, as well as of the manners and customs of the people, to which\nI had never yet been able to adapt myself properly. I had learnt no\nparticular profession, I had not distinguished myself in any special\nscience, I was not even master of any language in which I could make\nmyself perfectly intelligible. It occurred to me, therefore, that for me\nthere was no alternative left, but to embrace the Christian religion,\nand get myself baptised in Hamburg. Accordingly I resolved to go to the\nfirst clergyman I should come upon, and inform him of my resolution, as\nwell as of my motives for it, without any hypocrisy, in a truthful and\nhonest fashion. But as I could not express myself well orally, I put my\nthoughts into writing in German with Hebrew characters, went to a\nschoolmaster, and got him to copy it in German characters. The purport\nof my letter was in brief as follows:--\n\n\"I am a native of Poland, belonging to the Jewish nation, destined by my\neducation and studies to be a rabbi; but in the thickest darkness I have\nperceived some light. This induced me to search further after light and\ntruth, and to free myself completely from the darkness of superstition\nand ignorance. In order to this end, which could not be attained in my\nnative place, I came to Berlin, where by the support of some enlightened\nmen of our nation I studied for some years--not indeed after any plan,\nbut merely to satisfy my thirst for knowledge. But as our nation is\nunable to use, not only such planless studies, but even those conducted\non the most perfect plan, it cannot be blamed for becoming tired of\nthem, and pronouncing their encouragement to be useless. I have\ntherefore resolved, in order to secure temporal as well as eternal\nhappiness, which depends on the attainment of perfection, and in order\nto become useful to myself as well as others, to embrace the Christian\nreligion. The Jewish religion, it is true, comes, in its articles of\nfaith, nearer to reason than Christianity. But in practical use the\nlatter has an advantage over the former; and since morality, which\nconsists not in opinions but in actions, is the aim of all religion in\ngeneral, clearly the latter comes nearer than the former to this aim.\nMoreover, I hold the mysteries of the Christian religion for that which\nthey are, that is, allegorical representations of the truths that are\nmost important for man. By this means I make my faith in them harmonise\nwith reason, but I cannot believe them according to their common\nmeaning. I beg therefore most respectfully an answer to the question,\nwhether after this confession I am worthy of the Christian religion or\nnot. In the former case I am ready to carry my proposal into effect; but\nin the latter, I must give up all claim to a religion which enjoins me\nto lie, that is, to deliver a confession of faith which contradicts my\nreason.\"\n\nThe schoolmaster, to whom I dictated this, fell into astonishment at my\naudacity; never before had he listened to such a confession of faith. He\nshook his head with much concern, interrupted the writing several times,\nand became doubtful, whether the mere copying was not itself a sin. With\ngreat reluctance he copied it out, merely to get rid of the thing. I\nwent then to a prominent clergyman, delivered my letter, and begged for\na reply. He read it with great attention, fell likewise into\nastonishment, and on finishing entered into conversation with me.\n\n\"So,\" he said, \"I see your intention is to embrace the Christian\nreligion, merely in order to improve your temporal circumstances.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, Herr Pastor,\" I replied, \"I think I have made it clear\nenough in my letter, that my object is the attainment of perfection. To\nthis, it is true, the removal of all hindrances and the improvement of\nmy external circumstances form an indispensable condition. But this\ncondition is not the chief end.\"\n\n\"But,\" said the pastor, \"do you not feel any inclination of the soul to\nthe Christian religion without reference to any external motives?\"\n\n\"I should be telling a lie, if I were to give you an affirmative\nanswer.\"\n\n\"You are too much of a philosopher,\" replied the pastor, \"to be able to\nbecome a Christian. Reason has taken the upper hand with you, and faith\nmust accommodate itself to reason. You hold the mysteries of the\nChristian religion to be mere fables, and its commands to be mere laws\nof reason. For the present I cannot be satisfied with your confession of\nfaith. You should therefore pray to God, that He may enlighten you with\nHis grace, and endow you with the spirit of true Christianity; and then\ncome to me again.\"\n\n\"If that is the case,\" I said, \"then I must confess, Herr Pastor, that I\nam not qualified for Christianity. Whatever light I may receive, I shall\nalways make it luminous with the light of reason. I shall never believe\nthat I have fallen upon new truths, if it is impossible to see their\nconnection with the truths already known to me. I must therefore remain\nwhat I am,--a stiffnecked Jew. My religion enjoins me to _believe_\nnothing, but to _think_ the truth and to _practise_ goodness. If I find\nany hindrance in this from external circumstances, it is not my fault. I\ndo all that lies in my power.\"\n\nWith this I bade the pastor goodbye.\n\nThe hardships of my journey, coupled with poor food, brought on an ague.\nI lay on a straw-bed in a garret, and suffered the want of all\nconveniences and refreshments. My landlord, who took pity on me, called\na Jewish physician, who prescribed an emetic which soon cured me of my\nfever. The doctor found that I was no common man, stayed to converse\nwith me for some hours, and begged me, as soon as I recovered, to visit\nhim.\n\nMeanwhile, however, a young man, who had known me in Berlin, heard of my\narrival. He called on me to say that Herr W----, who had seen me in\nBerlin, was now residing in Hamburg, and that I might very properly call\nupon him. I did so, and Herr W----, who was a very clever, honourable\nman, of a benevolent disposition naturally, asked me what I intended to\ndo. I represented to him my whole circumstances, and begged for his\nadvice. He said that in his opinion the unfortunate position of my\naffairs arose from the fact, that I had devoted myself with zeal merely\nto the acquisition of scientific knowledge, but had neglected the study\nof language, and therefore I was unable to communicate my knowledge to\nothers, or make any use of it. Meanwhile, he thought, nothing had been\nlost by delay; and if I was still willing to accommodate myself to the\ncircumstances, I could attain my object in the gymnasium at Altona,\nwhere his son was studying, while he would provide for my support.\n\nI accepted this offer with many thanks, and went home with a joyful\nheart. Meanwhile Herr W---- spoke to the professors of the gymnasium, as\nwell as to the principal, but more particularly to the syndic, Herr\nG----, a man who cannot be sufficiently praised. He represented to them,\nthat I was a man of uncommon talents, who wanted merely some further\nknowledge of language to distinguish himself in the world, and who hoped\nto obtain that knowledge by a short residence in the gymnasium. They\nacceded to his request. I was matriculated, and had a room assigned to\nme, in the institution.\n\nHere I lived for two years in peace and contentment. But the pupils in\nsuch a gymnasium, as may be easily supposed, make very slow progress;\nand it was therefore natural that I, who had already made considerable\nattainments in science, should find the lessons at times somewhat\ntedious. Consequently I did not attend them all, but made a selection to\nsuit my taste. The Director Dusch I esteemed very highly on account of\nhis profound scholarship and his excellent character. I therefore\nattended the most of his lectures. It is true, the philosophy of\nErnesti, on which he lectured, could not give me much satisfaction, and\njust as little did I receive from his lectures on Segner's Mathematical\nCompendium. But I derived great benefit from his instructions in the\nEnglish language. The Rector H----, a cheerful old man, though somewhat\npedantic, was not altogether pleased with me, because I would not\nperform his Latin exercises, and would not learn Greek at all. The\nProfessor of History began his lectures _ab ovo_ with Adam, and at the\nend of the year with a great deal of effort reached as far down as the\nbuilding of the Tower of Babel. The teacher of French used for\ntranslation Fenelon's _Sur l'existence de Dieu_,--a work for which I\nconceived the greatest dislike, because the author, while appearing to\ndeclaim against Spinozism, in reality argues in its defence.\n\nDuring the whole period of my residence in the gymnasium the professors\nwere unable to form any correct idea of me, because they never had an\nopportunity of forming my acquaintance. By the end of the first year I\nthought I had attained my object, and laid a good foundation in\nlanguages. I had also become tired of this inactive life, and therefore\nresolved to quit the gymnasium. But Director Dusch; who began by and by\nto become acquainted with me, begged me to stay at least another year,\nand, as I wanted for nothing, I consented.\n\nIt was about this time that the following incident in my life took\nplace. My wife had sent a polish Jew in search of me, and he heard of my\nresidence in Hamburg. Accordingly he came and called on me at the\ngymnasium. He had been commissioned by my wife to demand, that I should\neither return home without delay, or send through him a bill of divorce.\nAt that time I was unable to do either the one or the other. I was not\ninclined to be divorced from my wife without any cause; and to return at\nonce to Poland, where I had not yet the slightest prospect of getting on\nin the world or of leading a rational life, was to me impossible. I\nrepresented all this to the gentleman who had undertaken the commission,\nand added that it was my intention to leave the gymnasium soon and go to\nBerlin, that my Berlin friends would, as I hoped, give me both their\nadvice and assistance in carrying out this intention. He would not be\nsatisfied with this answer, which he took for a mere evasion. When he\nthus found that he could do nothing with me, he went to the chief rabbi,\nand entered a complaint against me. A messenger was accordingly sent to\nsummon me before the tribunal of the chief rabbi; but I took my stand,\nthat at present I was not under his jurisdiction, inasmuch as the\ngymnasium had a jurisdiction of its own, by which my case would require\nto be decided. The chief rabbi made every effort through the Government\nto make me submit to his wishes, but all his efforts were in vain. When\nhe saw that he could not accomplish his purpose in this way, he sent me\nan invitation a second time on the pretext that he wished merely to\nspeak with me. To this I willingly consented, and went to him at once.\n\nHe received me with much respect; and when I made known to him my\nbirthplace and family in Poland, he began to lament and wring his hands.\n\"Alas!\" said he, \"you are the son of the famous Rabbi Joshua? I know\nyour father well; he is a pious and learned man. You also are not\nunknown to me; I have examined you as a boy several times, and formed\nhigh expectations of you. Oh! is it possible that you have altered so?\"\n(Here he pointed to my shaven beard). To this I replied, that I also had\nthe honour of knowing him, and that I still remembered his examinations\nwell. My conduct hitherto, I told him, was as little opposed to religion\nproperly understood, as it was to reason. \"But,\" he interrupted \"you do\nnot wear a beard, you do not go to the synagogue: is that not contrary\nto religion?\" \"No!\" I replied, and I proved to him from the Talmud that,\nunder the circumstances in which I was placed, all this was allowed. On\nthis point we entered into a lengthy dispute, in which each maintained\nhis right. As he could effect nothing with me by such disputation, he\nadopted the style of mere sermonising; but when this also was of no\navail, he began to cry aloud, \"_Shophar! Shophar!_\" This is the name of\nthe horn which is blown on New-Year's day as a summons to repentance,\nand at which it is supposed that Satan is horribly afraid. While the\nchief rabbi called out the word, he pointed to a _Shophar_ that lay\nbefore him on the table, and asked me, \"Do you know what that is?\" I\nreplied quite boldly, \"Oh yes! it is a ram's horn.\" At these words the\nchief rabbi fell back upon his chair, and began to lament over my lost\nsoul. I left him to lament as long as he liked, and bade him goodbye.\n\nAt the end of my second year I began to reflect, that it would be an\nadvantage in view of my future success, as well as fair to the\ngymnasium, that I should make myself more intimately acquainted with the\nprofessors. Accordingly I went to Director Dusch, announced to him that\nI was soon to leave, and told him that, as I wished a certificate from\nhim, it would be well for him to examine me on the progress I had made,\nso that his certificate might be as nearly as possible in accordance\nwith the truth. To this end he made me translate some passages from\nLatin and English works in prose as well as in verse, and was very well\npleased with the translation. Afterwards he entered into conversation\nwith me on some subjects in philosophy, but found me so well versed in\nthese, that for his own safety he was obliged to back out. At last he\nasked me, \"But how is it with your mathematics?\" I begged him to examine\nme in this also. \"In our mathematical lessons,\" he began, \"we had\nadvanced to somewhere about the subject of mathematical bodies. Will you\nwork out yourself a proposition not yet taken up in the lessons, for\nexample, that about the relation of the cylinder, the sphere and the\ncone to one another? You may take some days to do it.\" I replied that\nthis was unnecessary, and offered to perform the task on the spot. I\nthen demonstrated, not only the proposition prescribed, but several\nother propositions out of Segner's Geometry. The Director was very much\nsurprised at this, called all the pupils in the gymnasium, and\nrepresented to them that the extraordinary progress I had made should\nmake them ashamed of themselves. The most of them did not know what to\nsay to this; but some replied, \"Do not suppose, Herr Director, that\nMaimon made this progress in mathematics here. He has seldom attended\nthe mathematical lessons, and even when he was there he paid no\nattention to them.\" They were going to say more, but the Director\ncommanded silence, and gave me an honourable certificate, from which I\ncannot avoid quoting a few sentences. They became to me afterwards a\nconstant spur to higher attainments, and I hope it will not be\nconsidered vainglory in me to cite the opinion of this esteemed man.\n\n\"His capacity,\" says he, \"for learning all that is beautiful, good and\nuseful in general, but in particular those sciences which require severe\nexertion of the mental powers, abstract and profound thought, is, I\nmight almost say, extraordinary. All those sorts of knowledge, which\ndemand in the highest degree one's own mental efforts, appear to him the\nmost agreeable; and intellectual occupations seem to be his chief, if\nnot his sole, enjoyment. His favourite studies hitherto have been\nphilosophy and mathematics, in which his progress has excited my\nastonishment, &c.\"\n\nI now bade goodbye to the teachers and officers of the gymnasium, who\nunanimously paid me the compliment, that I had done honour to their\ninstitution. I then set out once more for Berlin.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\nThird Journey to Berlin--Frustrated Plan of Hebrew Authorship--Journey\nto Breslau--Divorce.\n\n\nOn my arrival in Berlin I called upon Mendelssohn, as well as some other\nold friends, and begged them, as I had now acquired some knowledge of\nlanguages, to employ me in some occupation suited to my capacity. They\nhit upon the suggestion, that, in order to enlighten the Polish Jews\nstill living in darkness, I should prepare in Hebrew, as the only\nlanguage intelligible to them, some scientific works, which these\nphilanthropists were to print at their own expense, and distribute among\nthe people. His proposal I accepted with delight. But now the question\narose, with what sort of works a beginning should be made. On this point\nmy excellent friends were divided in their opinions. One of them thought\nthat the history of the Jewish nation would be most serviceable for this\npurpose, inasmuch as the people would discover in it the origin of their\nreligious doctrines and of the subsequent corruption which these had\nundergone, while they would thus also gain an insight into the fact,\nthat the fall of the Jewish state, as well as all the subsequent\npersecution and oppression which they had suffered, had arisen from\ntheir own ignorance and opposition to all rational arrangements.\nAccordingly this gentleman recommended that I should translate from\nFrench Basnage's _History of the Jews_; he gave me the work for this\npurpose, and asked me to furnish a copy of my translation. The specimen\ngave satisfaction to them all, even to Mendelssohn, and I was ready to\ntake the work in hand; but one of our friends thought that we ought to\nbegin with something on natural religion and rational morals, inasmuch\nas this is the object of all enlightenment. Accordingly he recommended\nthat for this purpose I should translate the _Natural Religion_ of\nReimarus. Mendelssohn withheld his opinion, because he believed that\nwhatever was undertaken in this line, though it would do no harm, would\nalso be of little use. I myself undertook these works, not from any\nconviction of my own, but at the request of my friends.\n\nI was too well acquainted with the rabbinical despotism, which by the\npower of superstition has established its throne for many centuries in\nPoland, and which for its own security seeks in every possible way to\nprevent the spread of light and truth. I knew how closely the Jewish\ntheocracy is connected with the national existence, so that the\nabolition of the former must inevitably bring with it the annihilation\nof the latter. I saw therefore clearly that my labours in this direction\nwould be fruitless; but I undertook this commission, because, as already\nstated, my friends would have it so, and because I could think of no\nother means of subsistence. Accordingly without fixing anything definite\nabout the plan of my labours, my friends resolved to send me to Dessau,\nwhere I could carry on my work at leisure.\n\nI reached Dessau in the hope, that after a few days my friends in Berlin\nwould resolve upon something definite about my work: but in this I was\ndeceived; for, as soon as I turned my back on Berlin, nothing further\nwas thought of the plan. I waited about a fortnight; but when during\nthat period I received no communication, I wrote to Berlin in the\nfollowing terms:--\"If my friends cannot unite upon a plan, they might\nleave the settlement of it to my own judgment. For my part I believe\nthat, to enlighten the Jewish nation, we must begin neither with history\nnor with natural theology and morals. One of my reasons for thinking so\nis, that these subjects, being easily intelligible, would not be able to\ninstil any regard for science in general among the more learned Jews,\nwho are accustomed to respect only those studies which involve a strain\nupon the highest intellectual powers. But a second reason is, that, as\nthose subjects would frequently come into collision with religious\nprejudices, they would never be admitted. Besides, sooth to say, there\nis no proper history of the Jewish nation: for they have scarcely ever\nstood in political relation with other civilised nations; and, with the\nexception of the Old Testament and Josephus and a few fragments on the\npersecutions of the Jews in the middle ages, nothing is to be found\nrecorded on the subject. I believe, therefore, that it would be best to\nmake a beginning with some science which, besides being most favourable\nfor the development of the mind, is also self-evident, and stands in no\nconnection with any religious opinions. Of this sort are the\nmathematical sciences; and therefore with this object in view I am\nwilling to write a mathematical text-book in Hebrew.\"\n\nTo this I received the answer, that I might follow my plan. Accordingly\nI applied myself with all diligence to the preparation of this\ntext-book, using the Latin work on mathematics by Wolff as its basis;\nand in two months it was finished. I then returned to Berlin, to give an\naccount of my work, but received immediately from one of the gentlemen\ninterested the disappointing information, that, as the work was very\nvoluminous, and as it would entail heavy expenditure especially on\naccount of the copper-plates required, he could not undertake the\npublication at his own expense, and I might therefore do with my\nmanuscript whatever I chose. I complained of this to Mendelssohn; and he\nthought, that certainly it was unreasonable to let my work go without\nremuneration, but that I could not require my friends to undertake the\npublication of a work which could not calculate on any good result in\nconsequence of that aversion to all science, which I myself knew to be\nprevalent among the Jewish nation. His advice therefore was, that I\nshould get the book printed by subscription; and of course I was\nobliged to content myself with this. Mendelssohn and the other\nenlightened Jews in Berlin subscribed, and I received for my work merely\nmy manuscript and the list of subscriptions. The whole plan, however,\nwas thought of no more.\n\nOn this I fell out again with my friends in Berlin. Being a man with\nlittle knowledge of the world, who supposed that human actions must\nalways be determined by the laws of justice, I pressed for the\nfulfilment of the bargain made. My friends, on the other hand, began,\nthough too late, to see, that their ill-considered project must of\nnecessity collapse, because they had no assurance of a market for such\nvoluminous and expensive works. From the religious, moral and political\ncondition of the Jews up to this time it was easy to foresee that the\nfew enlightened men among them would certainly give themselves no\ntrouble to study the sciences in the Hebrew language, which is very\nill-adapted for the exposition of such subjects; they will prefer to\nseek science in its original sources. The unenlightened, on the other\nhand,--and these form the majority,--are so swayed by rabbinical\nprejudices, that they regard the study of the sciences, even in Hebrew,\nas forbidden fruit, and persistently occupy themselves only with the\nTalmud and the enormous number of its commentaries.\n\nAll this I understood very well, and therefore I never thought of\ndemanding that the work I had prepared should be printed; I asked merely\nremuneration for the labour spent on it in vain. In this dispute\nMendelssohn remained neutral, because he thought that both parties had\nright on their side. He promised to use his influence with my friends,\nto induce them to provide for my subsistence in some other way. But when\neven this was not done, I became impatient, and resolved to quit Berlin\nonce more, and go to Breslau. I took with me some letters of\nintroduction, but they were of little service; for before I reached\nBreslau myself, letters in the spirit of those which Uriah carried had\npreceded me, and made a bad impression on the most of those to whom my\nletters of introduction were addressed. As a natural result, therefore,\nI was coldly received; and as I knew nothing of the later letters, I\nfound it impossible to explain my reception, and had made up my mind to\nquit Breslau.\n\nBy chance, however, I became acquainted with the celebrated Jewish poet,\nthe late Ephraim Kuh. This learned and high-minded man took so much\ninterest in me, that, neglecting all his former occupations and\nenjoyments, he confined himself entirely to my society. To the wealthy\nJews he spoke of me with the greatest enthusiasm, and praised me as a\nvery good fellow. But when he found that all his complimentary remarks\nfailed to make any impression on these gentlemen, he took some trouble\nto find out the cause of this, and at last discovered that the reason\nlay in those friendly letters from Berlin. Their general tenor was, that\nI was seeking to spread pernicious opinions. Ephraim Kuh, as a thinking\nman, at once saw the reason of this charge; but with all the efforts he\nmade, he could not drive it out of the heads of these people. I\nconfessed to him that, during my first sojourn in Berlin as a young man\nwithout experience or knowledge of the world, I had felt an irresistible\nimpulse to communicate to others whatever truth I knew; but I assured\nhim that, having for some years become wise by experience, I went to\nwork with great caution, and that therefore this charge was now wholly\nwithout foundation.\n\nIrritated by my disheartening situation, I resolved to form the\nacquaintance of Christian scholars, by whose recommendation I thought I\nmight find a hearing among the wealthy men of my own nation. I could not\nbut fear, however, that my defective language might form an obstacle to\nthe expression of my thoughts; so I prepared a written essay, in which I\ndelivered my ideas on the most important questions of philosophy in the\nform of aphorisms. With this essay I went to the celebrated Professor\nGarve, explained to him briefly my intention, and submitted my aphorisms\nto him for examination. He discussed them with me in a very friendly\nmanner, gave me a good testimonial, and recommended me also orally in\nvery emphatic language to the wealthy banker, Lipmann Meier. This\ngentleman settled a monthly allowance on me for my support, and also\nspoke to some other Jews on the subject.\n\nMy situation now improved every day. Many young men of the Jewish nation\nsought my society. Among others the second son of Herr Aaron Zadig took\nso much pleasure in my humble personality, that he desired to enjoy my\ninstruction in the sciences. This he earnestly begged his father to\nallow; and the latter, being a well-to-do enlightened man of great good\nsense, who wished to give his children the best German education, and\nspared no expense for that object, willingly gave his consent. He sent\nfor me, and made the proposal that I should live at his house, and for a\nmoderate honorarium should give his second son lessons for two hours a\nday in physics and _belles lettres_, and also a lesson in arithmetic of\nan hour a day to his third and youngest son. This proposal I accepted\nwith great willingness; and, not long after, Herr Zadig asked me, if I\nwould not also consent to give lessons in Hebrew and elementary\nmathematics to his children who had hitherto had for their teacher in\nthese subjects a Polish Jew, named Rabbi Manoth. But I thought it would\nbe unfair to supplant this poor man, who had a family to support, and\nwho was giving satisfaction at any rate; and therefore I declined this\nrequest. Accordingly Rabbi Manoth continued his lessons, and I entered\nupon mine.\n\nIn this house I was able to carry on but little study for myself. In the\nfirst place, there was a want of books; and, in the second place, I\nlived in a room with the children, where they were occupied with other\nmasters every hour of the day. Besides, the liveliness of these young\npeople did not suit my character which had already become somewhat\nstern; and therefore I had often occasion to get angry at petty\noutbursts of unruliness. Consequently, as I was obliged to pass most of\nmy time in idleness, I sought society. I often visited Herr Hiemann\nLisse, a plump little man of enlightened mind and cheerful disposition.\nWith him and some other jolly companions I spent my evenings in talk and\njest and play of every sort. During the day I strolled around among the\ncoffee-houses.\n\nIn other families also I soon became acquainted, particularly in those\nof Herr Simon, the banker, and Herr Bortenstein, both of whom showed me\nmuch kindness. All sought to persuade me to devote myself to medicine,\nfor which I had always entertained a great dislike. But when I saw from\nmy circumstances, that it would be difficult for me to find support in\nany other way, I allowed myself to be persuaded. Professor Garve\nintroduced me to Professor Morgenbesser, and I attended his medical\nlectures for some time; but after all I could not overcome my dislike to\nthe art, and accordingly gave up the lectures again. By and by I became\nacquainted with other Christian scholars, especially with the late Herr\nLieberk\u00fchn, who was so justly esteemed on account of his abilities, as\nwell as for his warm interest in the welfare of mankind. I also made the\nacquaintance of some teachers of merit in the Jesuits' College at\nBreslau.\n\nBut I did not give up wholly literary work in Hebrew. I translated into\nHebrew Mendelssohn's _Morgenstunden_. Of this translation I sent some\nsheets as a specimen to Herr Isaac Daniel Itzig in Berlin; but I\nreceived no answer because this excellent man, owing to his business\nbeing too extensive, cannot possibly give attention to subjects that are\nnot of immediate interest to him, and therefore such affairs as the\nanswering of my letter are easily forgotten. I also wrote in Hebrew a\ntreatise on Natural Philosophy according to Newtonian principles; and\nthis, as well as the rest of my Hebrew works, I still preserve in\nmanuscript.\n\nAt last, however, I fell here also into a precarious situation. The\nchildren of Herr Zadig, in pursuance of the occupations to which they\nwere destined in life, entered into commercial situations, and therefore\nrequired teachers no longer. Other means of support also gradually\nfailed. As I was thus obliged to seek subsistence in some other way, I\ndevoted myself to giving lessons; I taught Euler's _Algebra_ to a young\nman, gave two children instruction in the rudiments of German and Latin,\n&c. But even this did not last long, and I found myself in a sorrowful\nplight.\n\nMeanwhile my wife and eldest son arrived from Poland. A woman of rude\neducation and manners, but of great good sense and the courage of an\nAmazon, she demanded that I should at once return home with her, not\nseeing the impossibility of what she required. I had now lived some\nyears in Germany, had happily emancipated myself from the fetters of\nsuperstition and religious prejudice, had abandoned the rude manner of\nlife in which I had been brought up, and extended my knowledge in many\ndirections. I could not therefore return to my former barbarous and\nmiserable condition, deprive myself of all the advantages I had gained,\nand expose myself to rabbinical rage at the slightest deviation from the\nceremonial law, or the utterance of a liberal opinion. I represented to\nher, that this could not be done at once, that I should require first of\nall to make my situation known to my friends here as well as in Berlin,\nand solicit from them the assistance of two or three hundred thalers, so\nthat I might be able to live in Poland independent of my religious\nassociates. But she would listen to nothing of all this, and declared\nher resolution to obtain a divorce, if I would not go with her\nimmediately. Here therefore it was for me to choose the less of two\nevils, and I consented to the divorce.\n\nMeanwhile, however, I was obliged to provide for the lodging and board\nof these guests, and to introduce them to my friends in Breslau. Both of\nthese duties I performed, and I pointed out, especially to my son, the\ndifference between the manner of life one leads here and that in Poland,\nwhile I sought to convince him by several passages in the _Moreh\nNebhochim_, that enlightenment of the understanding and refinement of\nmanners are rather favourable than otherwise to religion. I went\nfurther: I sought to convince him, that he ought to remain with me; I\nassured him, that, with my direction and the support of my friends, he\nwould find opportunities of developing the good abilities with which\nNature had endowed him, and would obtain for them some suitable\nemployment. These representations made some impression upon him: but my\nwife went with my son to consult some orthodox Jews, in whose advice she\nthought she could thoroughly confide; and they recommended her to press\nat once for a divorce, and on no account to let my son be induced to\nremain with me. This resolution, however, she was not to disclose till\nshe had received from me a sufficient sum of money for household\npurposes. She might then separate from me for ever, and start for home\nwith her booty.\n\nThis pretty plan was faithfully followed. By and by I had succeeded in\ncollecting some score of ducats from my friends. I gave them to my wife,\nand explained to her that, to complete the required sum, it would be\nnecessary for us to go to Berlin. She then began to raise difficulties,\nand declared at once point-blank, that for us a divorce was best, as\nneither could I live happily with her in Poland, nor she with me in\nGermany. In my opinion she was perfectly right. But it still made me\nsorry to lose a wife, for whom I had once entertained affection, and I\ncould not let the affair be conducted in any spirit of levity. I told\nher therefore that I should consent to a divorce only if it were\nenjoined by the courts.\n\nThis was done. I was summoned before the court. My wife stated the\ngrounds on which she claimed a divorce. The president of the court then\nsaid, \"Under these circumstances we can do nothing but advise a\ndivorce.\" \"Mr. President,\" I replied, \"we came here, not to ask advice,\nbut to receive a judicial sentence.\" Thereupon the chief rabbi rose from\nhis seat (that what he said might not have the force of a judicial\ndecision,) approached me with the codex in his hand, and pointed to the\nfollowing passage:--\"A vagabond, who abandons his wife for years, and\ndoes not write to her or send her money, shall, when he is found, be\nobliged to grant a divorce.\" \"It is not my part,\" I replied, \"to\ninstitute a comparison between this case and mine. That duty falls to\nyou, as judge. Take your seat again, therefore, and pronounce your\njudicial sentence on the case.\"\n\nThe president became pale and red by turns, while the rest of the judges\nlooked at one another. At last the presiding judge became furious, began\nto call me names, pronounced me a damnable heretic, and cursed me in the\nname of the Lord. I left him to storm, however, and went away. Thus\nended this strange suit, and things remained as they were before.\n\nMy wife now saw that nothing was to be done by means of force, and\ntherefore she took to entreaty. I also yielded at last, but only on the\ncondition, that at the judicial divorce the judge, who had shown himself\nsuch a master of cursing, should not preside in the court. After the\ndivorce my wife returned to Poland with my son. I remained some time\nstill in Breslau; but as my circumstances became worse and worse, I\nresolved to return to Berlin.[60]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\nFourth Journey to Berlin--Unfortunate Circumstances--Help--Study of\nKant's Writings--Characteristic of my own Works.\n\n\nWhen I came to Berlin, Mendelssohn was no longer in life,[61] and my\nformer friends were determined to know nothing more of me. I did not\nknow therefore what to do. In the greatest distress I received a visit\nfrom Herr Bendavid, who told me that he had heard of my unfortunate\ncircumstances, and had collected a small sum of about thirty thalers,\nwhich he gave to me. Besides, he introduced me to a Herr Jojard, an\nenlightened and high-minded man, who received me in a very friendly\nmanner, and made some provision for my support. A certain professor,\nindeed, tried to do me an ill turn with this worthy man by denouncing me\nas an atheist; but in spite of this I gradually got on so well, that I\nwas able to hire a lodging in a garret from an old woman.\n\nI had now resolved to study Kant's _Kritik of Pure Reason_, of which I\nhad often heard but which I had never seen yet.[62] The method, in which\nI studied this work, was quite peculiar. On the first perusal I\nobtained a vague idea of each section. This I endeavoured afterwards to\nmake distinct by my own reflection, and thus to penetrate into the\nauthor's meaning. Such is properly the process which is called _thinking\noneself into a system_. But as I had already mastered in this way the\nsystems of Spinoza, Hume and Leibnitz, I was naturally led to think of a\ncoalition-system. This in fact I found, and I put it gradually in\nwriting in the form of explanatory observations on the _Kritik of Pure\nReason_, just as this system unfolded itself to my mind. Such was the\norigin of my _Transcendental Philosophy_. Consequently this book must be\ndifficult to understand for the man who, owing to the inflexible\ncharacter of his thinking, has made himself at home merely in one of\nthese systems without regard to any other. Here the important problem,\n_Quid juris?_ with the solution of which the _Kritik_ is occupied, is\nwrought out in a much wider sense than that in which it is taken by\nKant; and by this means there is plenty of scope left for Hume's\nscepticism in its full force. But on the other side the complete\nsolution of this problem leads either to Spinozistic or to Leibnitzian\ndogmatism.\n\nWhen I had finished this work, I showed it to Marcus Herz.[63] He\nacknowledged that he was reckoned among the most eminent disciples of\nKant, and that he had given the most assiduous application while\nattending Kant's philosophical lectures, as may indeed be seen from his\nwritings, but that yet he was not in a position to pass a judgment on\nthe _Kritik_ itself or on any other work relating to it. He advised me,\nhowever, to send my manuscript directly to Kant himself, and submit it\nto his judgment, while he promised to accompany it with a letter to the\ngreat philosopher. Accordingly I wrote to Kant, sending him my work, and\nenclosing the letter from Herz. A good while passed, however, before an\nanswer came. At length Herz received a reply, in which, among other\nthings, Kant said:--\n\n\"But what were you thinking about, my dear friend, when you sent me a\nbig packet containing the most subtle researches, not only to read\nthrough, but to think out thoroughly, while I am still, in my\nsixty-sixth year, burdened with a vast amount of labour in completion of\nmy plan! Part of this labour is to furnish the last part of the\n_Kritik_,--that, namely, on the Faculty of Judgment,--which is soon to\nappear; part is to work out my system of the Metaphysic of Nature, as\nwell as the Metaphysic of Ethics, in accordance with the requirements of\nthe _Kritik_. Moreover, I am kept incessantly busy with a multitude of\nletters requiring special explanations on particular points; and, in\naddition to all this, my health is frail. I had already made up my mind\nto send back the manuscript with an excuse so well justified on all\nthese grounds; but a glance at it soon enabled me to recognise its\nmerits, and to show, not only that none of my opponents had understood\nme and the main problem so well, but that very few could claim so much\npenetration as Herr Maimon in profound inquiries of this sort. This\ninduced me...,\" and so on.\n\nIn another passage of the letter Kant says:--\"Herr Maimon's work\ncontains moreover so many acute observations, that he cannot give it to\nthe public without its producing an impression strongly in his favour.\"\nIn a letter to myself he said:--\"Your esteemed request I have\nendeavoured to comply with as far as was possible for me; and if I have\nnot gone the length of passing a judgment on the whole of your treatise,\nyou will gather the reason from my letter to Herr Herz. Certainly it\narises from no feeling of disparagement, which I entertain for no\nearnest effort in rational inquiries that interest mankind, and least of\nall for such an effort as yours, which, in point of fact, betrays no\ncommon talent for the profounder sciences.\"\n\nIt may easily be imagined how important and agreeable to me the\napprobation of this great thinker must have been, and especially his\ntestimony that I had understood him well. For there are some arrogant\nKantians, who believe themselves to be sole proprietors of the Critical\nPhilosophy, and therefore dispose of every objection, even though\nintended, not exactly as a refutation, but as a fuller elaboration of\nthis philosophy, by the mere assertion without proof, that the author\nhas failed to understand Kant. Now these gentlemen were no longer in a\nposition to bring this charge against my book, inasmuch as, by the\ntestimony of the founder himself of the Critical Philosophy, I have a\nbetter right than they to make use of this argument.\n\nAt this time I was living in Potsdam with a gentleman who was a\nleather-manufacturer. When Kant's letters arrived, I went to Berlin, and\ndevoted my time to the publication of my _Transcendental Philosophy_. As\na native of Poland I dedicated this work to the king, and carried a copy\nto the Polish Resident; but it was never sent, and I was put off from\ntime to time with various excuses. _Sapienti sat!_\n\nA copy of the work was also sent, as is usually done, to the editor of\nthe _Allgemeine Litteraturzeitung_. After waiting a good while without\nany notice appearing, I wrote to the editor, and received the following\nanswer:--\"You know yourself how small is the number of those who are\ncompetent to understand and judge philosophical works. Three of the best\nspeculative thinkers have declined to undertake the review of your book,\nbecause they are unable to penetrate into the depths of your researches.\nAn application has been made to a fourth, from whom a favourable reply\nwas expected; but a review from him has not yet been received.\"\n\nI also began to work at this time for the _Journal f\u00fcr Aufkl\u00e4rung_. My\nfirst article was on _Truth_, and was in the form of a letter to a\nfriend[64] in Berlin. The article was occasioned by a letter which I had\nreceived from this friend during my stay in Potsdam, and in which he\nwrote to me in a humorous vein, that philosophy was no longer a\nmarketable commodity, and that therefore I ought to take advantage of\nthe opportunity which I was enjoying to learn tanning. I replied, that\nphilosophy is not a coinage subject to the vicissitudes of the exchange;\nand this proposition I afterwards developed in my article. Another\narticle in the same periodical was on _Tropes_, in which I show that\nthese imply the transference of a word not from one object to another\nthat is analogous, but from a relative to its correlate. I wrote also an\narticle on _Bacon and Kant_, in which I institute a comparison between\nthese two reformers of philosophy. _The Soul of the World_ was the\nsubject of another discussion in this journal, in which I endeavoured to\nmake out, that the doctrine of one universal soul common to all animated\nbeings has not only as much in its favour as the opposite doctrine, but\nthat the arguments for it outweigh those on the other side. My last\narticle in the journal referred to the plan of my _Transcendental\nPhilosophy_; and I explain in it that, while I hold the Kantian\nphilosophy to be irrefutable from the side of the Dogmatist, on the\nother hand I believe that it is exposed to all attacks from the side of\nthe Scepticism of Hume.\n\nA number of young Jews from all parts of Germany had, during\nMendelssohn's lifetime, united to form a society under the designation,\nSociety _for Research into the Hebrew Language_. They observed with\ntruth, that the evil condition of our people, morally as well as\npolitically, has its source in their religious prejudices, in their want\nof a rational exposition of the Holy Scriptures, and in the arbitrary\nexposition to which the rabbis are led by their ignorance of the Hebrew\nlanguage. Accordingly the object of their society was to remove these\ndeficiencies, to study the Hebrew language in its sources, and by that\nmeans to introduce a rational exegesis. For this purpose they resolved\nto publish a monthly periodical in Hebrew under the title of [Hebrew:**\n], _The Collector_, which was to give expositions of difficult passages\nin Scripture, Hebrew poems, prose essays, translations from useful\nworks, etc.\n\nThe intention of all this was certainly good; but that the end would\nscarcely be reached by any such means, I saw from the very beginning. I\nwas too familiar with the principles of the rabbis and their style of\nthought to believe that such means would bring about any change. The\nJewish nation is, without reference to accidental modifications, a\nperpetual aristocracy under the appearance of a theocracy. The learned\nmen, who form the nobility in the nation, have been able, for many\ncenturies, to maintain their position as the legislative body with so\nmuch authority among the common people, that they can do with them\nwhatever they please. This high authority is a natural tribute which\nweakness owes to strength. For since the nation is divided into such\nunequal classes as the common people and the learned, and since the\nformer, owing to the unfortunate political condition of the nation, are\nprofoundly ignorant, not only of all useful arts and sciences, but even\nof the laws of their religion, on which their eternal welfare is\nsupposed to depend, it follows that the exposition of Scripture, the\ndeduction of religious laws from it, and the application of these to\nparticular cases, must be surrendered wholly to the learned class which\nthe other undertakes the cost of maintaining. The learned class seek to\nmake up for their want of linguistic science and rational exegetics by\ntheir own ingenuity, wit and acuteness. To form an idea of the degree in\nwhich these talents are displayed, it is necessary to read the Talmud\nalong with the commentary called _Tosaphoth_, that is, the additions to\nthe first commentary of Rabbi Solomon Isaac.[65]\n\nThe productions of the mind are valued by them, not in proportion to\ntheir utility, but in proportion to the talent which they imply. A man\nwho understands Hebrew, who is well versed in the Holy Scriptures, who\neven carries in his head the whole of the Jewish _Corpus Juris_,--and\nthat is no trifle,--is by them but slightly esteemed. The greatest\npraise that they give to such a man is _Chamor Nose Sepharim_, that is,\n_An ass loaded with books_. But if a man is able, by his own ingenuity,\nto deduce new laws from those already known, to draw fine distinctions,\nand to detect hidden contradictions, he is almost idolised. And to tell\nthe truth, this judgment is well founded, so far as it concerns the\ntreatment of subjects that have no ulterior end in view.\n\nIt may therefore be easily imagined, that people of this sort will\nscarcely accord a hearing to an institute which aims merely at the\ncultivation of taste, the study of language, or any similar object,\nwhich to them appears mere trifling. Yet these are not the few educated\nmen, scattered here and there,--the steersmen of this ship which is\ndriven about in all seas. All men of enlightened minds, it does not\nmatter how much taste or knowledge they possess, are treated by them as\nimbeciles. And why? Simply because they have not studied the Talmud to\nthat extent, and in the manner, which they require. Mendelssohn was in\nsome measure esteemed by them on this account, because in point of fact\nhe was a good Talmudist.\n\nI was therefore neither for, nor against, this monthly periodical; I\neven contributed to it at times Hebrew articles. Among these I will\nmention merely one,--an exposition of an obscure passage in the\ncommentary of Maimonides on the Mishnah, which I interpreted by the\nKantian philosophy. The article was afterwards translated into German,\nand inserted in the _Berlinische Monatsschrift_.\n\nSome time after this I received from this society, which now calls\nitself the _Society for the Promotion of all that is Noble and Good_, a\ncommission to write a Hebrew commentary on the celebrated work of\nMaimonides, _Moreh Nebhochim_. This commission I undertook with\npleasure, and the work was soon done. So far, however, only a part of\nthe commentary has as yet appeared. The preface to the work may be\nconsidered as a brief history of philosophy.\n\nI had been an adherent of all philosophical systems in succession,\nPeripatetic, Spinozist, Leibnitzian, Kantian, and finally Sceptic; and I\nwas always devoted to that system, which for the time I regarded as\nalone true. At last I observed that all these systems contain something\ntrue, and are in certain respects equally useful. But, as the difference\nof philosophical systems depends on the ideas which lie at their\nfoundation in regard to the objects of nature, their properties and\nmodifications, which cannot, like the ideas of mathematics, be defined\nin the same way by all men, and presented _a priori_, I determined to\npublish for my own use, as well as for the advantage of others, a\nphilosophical dictionary, in which all philosophical ideas should be\ndefined in a somewhat free method, that is, without attachment to any\nparticular system, but either by an explanation common to all, or by\nseveral explanations from the point of view of each. Of this work also\nonly the first part has as yet appeared.\n\nIn the popular German monthly already mentioned, the _Berlinische\nMonatsschrift_, various articles of mine were inserted, on Deceit, on\nthe Power of Foreseeing, on Theodicy, and other subjects. On Empirical\nPsychology also I contributed various articles, and at last became\nassociated with Herr Hofrath Moritz in the editorship of the\nperiodical.[66]\n\nSo much with regard to the events which have occurred in my life, and\nthe communication of which, I thought, might be not without use. I have\nnot yet reached the haven of rest; but--\n\n/p\n      \"Quo fata trahunt retrahuntque sequamur.\"\np/\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUDING CHAPTER.\n\n\nThe closing words of the Autobiography themselves awaken the desire to\nknow the sequel of the author's life, and it seems therefore appropriate\nto finish the narrative by the sketch of a few facts derived mainly from\nthe little volume of _Maimoniana_, to which reference has been made in\nthe preface.\n\nIt is perhaps scarcely necessary to state that Maimon's life to the very\nend continued to retain the stamp it bore throughout the whole period\ndescribed in the preceding chapters. That stamp had apparently been\nimpressed on it even before he left Poland; and the Western influences,\nunder which he came in Germany, never altered essentially the character\nhe brought with him from home.\n\nEven in its external features his life enjoyed no permanent improvement.\nFate had indeed been somewhat hard upon a man of so much genuine culture\nand sensibility. Still the chronic poverty, which filled the largest cup\nof suffering in his life, was due not wholly to circumstances: it was\npartly his own nature or habits that kept him a pauper. This is all the\nmore remarkable, that there is perhaps no work of moral or religious\ninstruction which attaches more importance than the Talmud to industrial\npursuits.[67] Saturated as his mind was with Talmudic lore, and\ndisciplined as his early years had been by Talmudic training, Maimon\ncould not be ignorant of the advantage which the spiritual life derives\nfrom financial independence on others; and it might therefore have been\nexpected of him that, like many of the great rabbis, and Spinoza and\nMendelssohn too, he would have devoted himself to some remunerative\noccupation, however humble. This would not have been impossible even in\nPoland, where the Jews were subject to no disability excluding them from\nthe common industries of the country; and from the Autobiography it\nappears that, even at an early period of his life, he was more than half\naware that his poverty was due, not wholly to the imperious demands of a\nhigher culture, but to a somewhat selfish indolence.[68] In Germany,\nwith its more advanced civilisation, it would have been much less\ndifficult for him to make a tolerable living at some employment. The\nAutobiography shows that he was very generously received by a large\ncircle of influential friends, who took a great deal of pains to secure\nfor him a position of independence, and that they abandoned their effort\nonly when they found it in vain. From the _Maimoniana_ also it appears\nthat some of the most eminent men of his time continued to tender their\nfriendly services. Among others, Plattner, Schultze (Aenesidemus), and\neven Goethe, made advances towards Maimon in a way that was not only\nvery flattering, but might have been very helpful, if he had so\nchosen.[69] But he never got rid of the habit, which he had acquired in\nPoland, of depending on others; and the low standard of comfort, to\nwhich he had accustomed himself, left him without sufficient stimulus to\nseek an escape from his pauperised condition.\n\nHis condition, therefore, never improved. He continued during his later\nyears to work at various literary employments; but the remuneration he\nobtained for these was never sufficient for his subsistence. His works\nappealed to a very limited public. He had consequently often to go\na-begging for a publisher, and to content himself with what slight\nhonorarium the reluctant publishers chose to give.[70] The literary\nhack-work, of which he was obliged to do a good deal, brought him no\nbetter return. That sort of labour was probably as poorly paid in Berlin\nat the time as in the Grub Street of last century. He was therefore at\ntimes reduced to utter beggary. Many of his earlier friends, as appears\nfrom the Autobiography, had lost patience with him; and some, who had\nhelped him before, when he was forced by sheer starvation to apply to\nthem afterwards, treated him as a common beggar, dismissing him with a\ncopper in charity (_Zehrpfennig_), and at times with unnecessarily cold,\neven insulting language.[71] If we add to this the fact, that his\nirregular habits often made him the victim of unscrupulous men,[72] it\nwill not seem surprising that he sometimes fell into a bitter tone and\nharsh judgments about his friends,[73] or that he was apt occasionally\nto burst out into pretty strong language of general misanthropy.[74]\n\nPerhaps Maimon might have risen out of the chronic destitution, to which\nhe seemed doomed, if he had cultivated in any degree the virtue of\nthrift. But thriftlessness, as the Autobiography shows, had been an\nhereditary vice in his family, at least for two generations before him;\nand though he gives vivid pictures of its pitiable results in the\nhouseholds of his grandfather and father, he never made any effort to\nrise above it himself. Whenever he obtained any remuneration for his\nwork, instead of husbanding it economically till he obtained more, he\nusually squandered it at once in extravagancies, often of a useless,\nsometimes of a reprehensible kind.[75] He points out in his first\nchapter, that his grandfather might have been a rich man if he had kept\naccounts of income and expenditure. But his friend Wolff, has to confess\nthat, good mathematician as Maimon was, he never seemed to think of the\ndifference between _plus_ and _minus_ in money-matters.[76] With such a\ncharacter one of Maimon's friends was not far from the truth, when on a\nfresh application for assistance, he dismissed him, too harshly perhaps,\nwith the blunt remark, \"People like you there is no use in trying to\nhelp.\"[77] Certainly help was not to be found in Maimon himself, and it\nis difficult to see how he could have avoided the chance of a miserable\ndeath by actual starvation, had it not been that a generous home was at\nlast opened to him, where he closed his days in comfort and peace.\n\nA character like that of Maimon implied a general irregularity of\nlife,--an absence of that regulation by fixed rules of conduct, which is\nessential to wellbeing. He was not indeed unaware of the importance of\nsuch regularity. \"I require of every man of sound mind,\" he said one\nday, \"that he should lay out for himself a plan of action.\" No wonder\nthat this requirement leads his friend to remark, that it seemed to him\nas if Maimon's only plan of life had been to live without any plan at\nall.[78]\n\nThe irregularity of his habits is strikingly seen in his want of method\neven at his literary work. Notwithstanding the technical culture he gave\nhimself in early life in drawing, he seems never to have reached any\ndegree of muscular expertness. Wolff remarked his awkwardness in\nhandling his pen, and his inability to fold a letter with tolerable\nneatness.[79] In other respects also he was careless about those\nmechanical conveniences by which mental work is usually facilitated. He\nwas commonly to be seen working at a very unsteady desk, one leg of\nwhich was supported by a folio volume.[80] He did not even confine\nhimself to any particular place for work. Apparently he spent more of\nhis day in public taverns than in his private lodging, and he might\noften be seen amid the distraction of such surroundings writing or\nrevising proofs, while, as a consequence, his papers sometimes were\nmislaid and lost, and his work had all to be done over again. It was\nsaid of the Autobiography itself that it had been written on an alehouse\nbench.[81] He could never understand how any man could do intellectual\nwork by rule; and therefore, though he had to make his living as best he\ncould by literature, he never formed the habit of reserving one part of\nthe day for work. He commonly worked in the morning, at least in _his_\nmorning, and that, his friend acknowledges, was not very early;[82] but\nthis itself was evidently no fixed rule. Probably for the same reason he\nnever adopted the plan, which authors find so serviceable, of first\nsketching an outline of a work before it is written out in detail. \"I\nhave,\" he said one day, \"given up, with good result, the habit of making\na draught beforehand. You are not, by a long way, so careful about your\nwork when you know that you are going to write it over again; you\nneglect many a thought, do not write it down, because you believe that\nit will occur to you again in copying out, which frequently does not\nhappen.\"[83] It is clear, however, that, his opinion to the contrary\nnotwithstanding, his writings suffered from his unmethodical habits.\n\"The fact,\" says the most competent of judges on this subject, \"that\nMaimon is far from having attained the recognition which his importance\ndeserves, may be accounted for by the defective condition of his\nwritings. His extraordinary acuteness was designed, but was not\nsufficiently cultivated, to give to his investigations the light and the\nforce of methodical exposition. He wrote with most pleasure in his\nTalmudic fashion, commenting and disputing, without proper sifting and\narrangement of his materials. To these defects must be added the faults\nof his style. It is surprising that he learned to write German as he\ndid. In his writings there are passages in which the thought bursts out\nwith really resplendent power, and actually forces the language, even\nplays with it, in turns of expression that take you by surprise. But a\nGerman author he never became; and as a philosophical author he wanted a\ncertain sense of order that is indispensable for exposition. He can\nsometimes formulate very well, but cannot systematise, and hence his\nmost important opinions, in which the whole meaning of his position\nrests, are often in the course of his writings found in passages the\nleast lucid and the least prominent.\"[84]\n\nIt is perhaps only saying the same thing of Maimon in another form, that\nhe had no mechanical memory, that consequently he was apt to forget the\nnames of persons and of places, sometimes could not remember the name of\nthe street where he lived, or the day or even the month; and it is not\ntherefore surprising that he often injured himself by neglecting all\nsort of engagements.[85] It may be readily inferred that he was\nparticularly negligent about all engagements and regulations bearing\nupon the mere externals of life. That a man of his condition and\ncharacter must have been unusually careless about his personal\nappearance, follows as a matter of course, and therefore we may pass\nover the references of Wolff to peculiarities of Maimon's dress. He was\nusually to be seen out of doors clad in an overcoat which had evidently\nnot been made for himself, and which, we may suspect, was intended as a\nconvenient covering for the defects of under-garments, his boots bearing\nthe weather-stains of many days, and his beard often showing that for a\ngood while he had forgotten his engagement with his barber. In the\nlatter years of his life he abandoned the use of a wig, as well as of\npowder in his hair, at a time when these changes must have been regarded\nas rather daring innovations on prevalent fashion. But in all his\nsurroundings he showed what, for a man of his intellectual attainments,\nseems a most astonishing disregard of sanitary cleanliness and the\ncomfortable decencies of life. The state of his lodging must have raised\na shudder in any one sensitive to disorder or uncleanliness. He\nacknowledged that he was constantly at war with the housemaid on this\nsubject, as he could never bear to have his room swept and dusted, and\nhe complained of the perpetual annoyance to which he was exposed in\nAmsterdam from the excessive scruples of the people in regard to\ntidiness.[86] It may fairly be suspected that the annoyance was\nconsiderably greater, as it was more justifiable, on the other side. His\nhabits in this respect clung to him to the last, and it was evidently\ndifficult to keep his surroundings tolerable even in the comparatively\nsumptuous home in which he closed his days.\n\nThe frank confessions of the Autobiography reveal the fact, that the\nirregularity, which characterised the life of Maimon, sometimes led to a\nbreach of the weightier matters of the law. The habit, which he began in\nPoland, of seeking relief from external discomfort and internal\nwretchedness in alcoholic stimulation, grew upon him afterwards; and as\nhis health began to fail, he used to treat his various complaints by a\nliberal allowance of various wines and beers which he supposed adapted\nto their cure.[87] The liberal allowance was very apt, especially in the\nevenings, to exceed all reasonable moderation; and the sleepy\ninhabitants of Berlin were not infrequently disturbed by the half-tipsy\nphilosopher, as he wended his way unsteadily homewards at unseasonable\nhours, discoursing on all sorts of speculative themes in disagreeably\nloud tones that were occasionally interrupted by the expostulations of a\nnight-watchman.[88]\n\nThe peculiarly undisciplined manners of Maimon were occasionally shown\nin violent outbursts of various feelings. Too frequently it was an\nirritable temper that gave way. The slightest provocation, even the loss\nof a game at chess,[89] was apt to cause a painful explosion; and then\nhis language was certainly far from being restrained by those usages\nwhich are found essential to the pleasantness of social intercourse.[90]\nThe uncontrollable violence of these outbursts was amusingly exhibited\nin the fact, that sometimes he could not command the intellectual calm\nrequisite for thinking and expressing himself in his acquired German,\nand, even though it might be a Gentile with whom he quarrelled, he fell\nback on his Jud\u00e6o-Polish mother tongue, which came to him as if by\nnatural instinct.[91] It is but fair, however, to add that these\noutbursts were often merely the unusually forcible, but not altogether\nunjustifiable, utterances of an honest indignation at wrong.[92]\n\nFor this strangely educated man, who in his outward manners seemed to\nremain a somewhat rude child of nature, was after all ready to yield,\nnot only to an unkindly irritability, but also to the more genial\nemotions. It is pleasing, for example, to know that he had a particular\nfondness for animals; and his pets were allowed in his lodging liberties\nwhich, however objectionable to a tidy housemaid, showed at least the\nessential gentleness of his heart. Tutored as he was himself in the\nseverest school of poverty, it is also pleasing to know that he\ncherished a kindly sympathy for the poor, and was ever ready to help\nthem as he could, sometimes at the cost of no small sacrifice to\nhimself.[93] The finer sensibilities of his nature were also easily\ntouched by music. Though he had no musical culture, and used to regret\nthat he had had none, an old Hebrew melody, long after he had broken off\nall connection with the Jews, could move him so deeply that he was\nobliged, even in company, to seek relief in tears.[94] For in the\nuncontrolled simplicity of his nature he allowed his feelings to find\ntheir natural vent without much restraint from circumstances; and\ntherefore he was seen at times in the theatre excited to loud sobbing by\na tragedy, or to boisterous laughter over a comedy.[95]\n\nNor is it to be regarded as an unpleasant feature of his character, but\nrather as an indication of a wholesome check on the general irregularity\nof his life, that, even after he had thrown off all the peculiar\nrestraints of his national religion, he clung with evident fondness to\nmany of those rabbinical habits which he had cultivated in his earlier\nyears. From Fischer's account of the style of Maimon's works we have\nseen how his intellectual work was affected by his Talmudic studies. The\ncriticism is evidently just. Maimon himself had met with it, and\nacknowledged its justice. He protested indeed that it did not affect the\ntruth of his speculations, though he evidently felt its disadvantages,\nand laboured at times to acquire a more methodical style.[96]\n\nThe rabbinical habits of Maimon, however, were most quaintly seen in\npeculiarities of outward manner. Gesticulations customary in the study\nof the Talmud he was seen to adopt not infrequently when he forgot\nhimself in the earnestness of conversation, or when in a company he fell\ninto a brown study, or even in the studies of his retirement. Thus in\nreading Euler's mathematical works or any other book which required\ngreat attention, he would fall into the Talmudic singsong and rhythmical\nswing of the body.[97]\n\nIt is noteworthy also, that, with all the unrestrained rudeness which\noften characterised his manners, Maimon was not without a certain\ndignified courtesy; and when the occasion demanded it, he could turn a\npolite phrase as prettily as the most accomplished gentleman.[98] There\nwas, moreover, in Maimon an intrinsic shyness which must have gone a\nlong way to soften the less amiable side of his social character.[99]\nThen it is evident that his conversation, in his better moods at least,\nhad a charm which made him a welcome guest in any company. Thus, amid\nall that may have been repulsive at times, there must have been in\nMaimon's character a good deal to attract the friendly companionship of\nothers. The Autobiography itself, as well as Wolff's little book, shows\nthat Maimon enjoyed as much as he desired of the cultured society of his\ntime. Being naturally shy, indeed, he rather shrank from company in\nwhich intercourse is regulated by a somewhat rigid social code; and the\ndesire of freedom from such restriction often drove him into company of\na much more objectionable kind. He also seems to have entertained a\nstrong dislike to any excessively demonstrative affection. He himself\nwas rather curt in his expressions of courtesy or friendliness towards\nothers, contenting himself generally, on meeting them, with a familiar\nnod. The lifting of the hat appeared to him meaningless, and a\ndeliberate embrace \"in cold blood\" was intolerable.[100] Yet in many\ninstances the attachment of his friends was marked with an unusual\ndegree of warmth, and brought many an hour of sunshine to a life which\notherwise would have been shadowed with insufferable gloom.\n\nAmong all Maimon's friends, the most conspicuous place must be given to\nthe man by whose generous hospitality he was able to close his\nchequered life amid the comforts of a luxurious home. While he was\nliving in a miserable lodging in one of the suburbs of Berlin, he\nlearned from one of his friends that a Silesian nobleman, Graf\nKalkreuth, who had formed a high opinion of his writings, was anxious to\nmake his personal acquaintance. After a good deal of delay, Maimon was\nat last induced to call upon the Graf at his residence in Berlin.\nFortunately he was very favourably impressed with the character of his\nnoble friend; and the friendship thus begun led before long to his\ntaking up his abode permanently with the Graf.[101] The generous\nconsideration which the host displayed for all the eccentricities of his\nguest, made this arrangement one of the happiest for the poor\nphilosopher, who since his childhood had seldom enjoyed the comforts of\na home.\n\nBut it is evident that the hardships of his life had at an early period\nbegun to tell upon his constitution, and that this was further shattered\nby irregular habits in his later years. Symptoms of serious trouble in\nthe lungs excited his alarm in the winter of 1795, and he was induced to\nseek medical advice. Partly from an unwise scepticism in regard to\nmedicine, partly from his usual failure to adhere to any fixed rule in\nhis conduct, the services of his physicians commonly ended with the\nconsultation; he seldom or never acted on their advice.[102] He lived\nin indifferent health for five or six years more. When his last illness\novertook him, he was living in the house of Graf Kalkreuth at\nSiegersdorf near Freistadt, in Lower Silesia. The only account of him at\nthis crisis was written by the pastor of Freistadt, for a monthly\nperiodical of the time, entitled _Kronos_. It forms the close of Wolff's\nlittle book; and as it is the only account, it may be of some interest\nhere. The pastor, Herr Tscheggey, had made the acquaintance of Maimon\nabout the year 1795; but their intercourse had become much closer about\nsix weeks before Maimon's death, when he used to visit the pastor two or\nthree times a week. On hearing that Maimon had been confined for some\ndays, the good pastor at once went to see him. He found him in a state\nof great weakness, unable to leave his room, and besought him earnestly,\nbut in vain, to take medical advice. A few days afterwards he called\nagain, and saw that evidently the end was drawing nigh. Curious to know\nwhether Maimon in this situation would remain true to his principles, he\ngave the following turn to the conversation, which he professes to\nreport word for word.\n\n\"I am sorry to find you so ill to-day, dear Maimon,\" said the pastor.\n\n\"There will perhaps be some improvement yet,\" replied Maimon.\n\n\"You look so ill,\" his friend proceeded, \"that I am doubtful about your\nrecovery.\"\n\n\"What matters it after all?\" said Maimon. \"When I am dead, I am gone.\"\n\n\"Can you say that, dear friend,\" rejoined the clergyman, with deep\nemotion. \"How? Your mind, which amid the most unfavourable circumstances\never soared to higher attainments, which bore such fair flowers and\nfruits--shall it be trodden in the dust along with the poor covering in\nwhich it has been clothed? Do you not feel at this moment that there is\nsomething in you which is not body, not matter, not subject to the\nconditions of space and time?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied Maimon, \"these are beautiful dreams and hopes\"----\n\n\"Which will surely be fulfilled,\" his friend broke in; and then, after a\nshort pause, added, \"You maintained not long ago that here we cannot\nreach further than to mere _legality_. Let this be admitted; and now\nperhaps you are about to pass over soon into a condition, in which you\nwill rise to the stage of _morality_, since you and all of us have a\nnatural capacity for it. Why? Should you not wish now to come into the\nsociety of one whom you honoured so much as Mendelssohn?\"\n\nThe zealous pastor says he gave the conversation this turn on purpose,\nin order to touch this side of the philosopher's heart. After a while\nthe dying man exclaimed, \"Ay me! I have been a foolish man, the most\nfoolish among the most foolish--and how earnestly I wished it\notherwise!\"\n\n\"This utterance,\" observed the pastor, \"is also a proof that you are not\nyet in complete accord with your unbelief. No,\" he added, taking Maimon\nby the hand, \"you will not all die; your spirit will surely live on.\"\n\n\"So far as mere faith and hope are concerned, I can go a good way; but\nwhat does that help us?\" was Maimon's reply.\n\n\"It helps us at least to peace,\" urged the pastor.\n\n\"I am at peace (_Ich bin ruhig_),\" said the dying man, completely\nexhausted.\n\nHere Tscheggey broke off the conversation, as the sufferer was evidently\nunable to continue it. When he rose to leave, Maimon begged him to stay,\nor at least to come back again soon. He came back the following morning,\nbut found the patient unconscious. At ten o'clock on the same\nevening--it was the 22nd of November, 1800--this strangely tossed life\nhad reached its haven.\n\n\"He died at peace,\" says the kindly clergyman, \"though I do not venture\nto say from what source the peace was derived. When a few days\nafterwards I passed the castle of his noble friend, I looked up with\nsadness to the window of his former room, and blessed his ashes.\" It is\nto be regretted that the generous piety of the friendly minister was not\nuniversal, and that the ashes of the unfortunate doubter were only with\na grudge allowed to find a decent resting-place.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Vol. iii., p. 370, note.\n\n[2] See the Preface to his _Philosophy of Reflection_, pp. 16-18.\n\n[3] Vol. v., chap. 7.\n\n[4] The volume bears the somewhat quaint title in full:--_Maimoniana,\noder Rhapsodien Zur Charakteristik Salomon Maimon's_. Aus Seinem\nPrivatleben gesammelt von Sabattia Joseph Wolff, M.D. Berlin, gedruckt\nbei G. Hayn, 1813.\n\n[5] The only logical connection is the fact, that the writings of\nMaimonides formed the most powerful influence in the intellectual\ndevelopment of Maimon. In illustration of this he writes:--\"My reverence\nfor this great teacher went so far, that I regarded him as the ideal of\na perfect man, and looked upon his teachings as if they had been\ninspired with Divine Wisdom itself. This went so far, that, when my\npassions began to grow, and I had sometimes to fear lest they might\nseduce me to some action inconsistent with those teachings, I used to\nemploy, as a proved antidote, the abjuration, 'I swear, by the reverence\nwhich I owe my great teacher, Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, not to do this\nact.' And this vow, so far as I can remember, was always sufficient to\nrestrain me.\" _Lebensgeschichte_, Vol. ii., pp. 3-4.\n\n[6] That is, of course, the seventeenth.--_Trans._\n\n[7] Maimon himself nowhere mentions the date or place of his birth; but\nWolff says that he was born at Nesvij, in Lithuania, about the year 1754\n(_Maimoniana, p. 10_). _Trans._\n\n[8] This word is explained below, at the beginning of the next chapter.\n\n[9] The customary Jewish salutation.\n\n[10] The original is \"ein Kalamankenes Leibserdak,\"--a provincialism\nwhich, I believe, is substantially rendered in this\ntranslation.--_Trans._\n\n[11] Till quite recently it had been almost forgotten that one of the\ncommonest manifestations of fanaticism against the Jews, especially in\nEastern Europe, was to charge them with the murder of Christian children\nfor the use of some horrid religious rite, and that scarcely ever was\nthe dead body of a child found in the neighbourhood of a Jewish\ncommunity without some outburst of this cruel suspicion, ending in an\nindiscriminate massacre of the Jews by the infuriated mob. It is a\nsingularly creditable proof of the liberal government of Stephen\nBatory,--one of the ablest monarchs who ever sat on the throne of\nPoland,--that, so long ago as 1576, he issued an edict prohibiting the\nimputation of this crime to the Jews, as being utterly inconsistent with\nthe principles of their religion. Yet, in spite of this enactment, the\nfanatical suspicion continued to display itself at frequent intervals.\nMilman supposed it had been finally quelled by the ukase of the Russian\nGovernment in 1835, which went in the same direction as the earlier\nprohibition of the Polish king (_History of the Jews_, vol. iii., p.\n389). What would have been his astonishment, had he lived to learn that,\nhalf a century after he thought it extinguished, this ancient delusion\nwas to revive, that an Hungarian court was to spend thirty one days in\nthe solemn trial of a Jewish family on the charge of sacrificing a\nChristian girl in their synagogue, that a learned professor in the\nImperial and Royal University of Prague was to write in defence of the\ncharge, and that the trial was to form the subject of an extensive\ncontroversial literature in the language of the most learned nation in\nthe world! An interesting account of this famous trial at Tisza Eszlar,\nas well as of the literature connected with it, will be found in an\narticle by Dr. Wright, on _The Jews and the Malicious Charge of Human\nSacrifice_ in the _Nineteenth Century_, for November, 1883.--_Trans._\n\n[12] It seems that Maimon gives a euphemistic explanation of this word,\nas I am told its real meaning makes much more intelligible its extreme\noffensiveness to his mother.--_Trans._\n\n[13] The original runs: \"Der Verstand sucht bloss zu _fassen_, die\nEinbildungskraft aber zu _umfassen_.\"--_Tr._\n\n[14] That is, _The Branch_ (or _Offspring_) _of David_. See Jeremiah\nxxiii. 5; xxxiii. 15; Isaiah xi. 1.--_Trans._\n\n[15] The Hebrew word for a globe.\n\n[16] This rabbi belonged to a family of eminent linguists. The father,\nJoseph Kimchi, was one of the numerous Jews who were obliged to flee\nfrom Spain to escape the cruel persecutions of the Mohades about the\nmiddle of the twelfth century. He left two sons who both followed his\nfavourite studies. The elder, Moses, has the credit of having educated\nhis younger and more illustrious brother, David, whose Hebrew grammar\nand dictionary continued in general use among scholars for centuries.\nKimchi is said to have been powerfully influenced, not only by\nMaimonides, but also by Aben Esra, who preceded him by nearly a century,\nand who was one of the most learned scholars, as well as one of the most\nversatile authors, of his time. (Jost's _Geschichte des Judenthums_,\nvol. ii., pp. 419-423; and vol. iii, pp. 30-31).--_Trans._\n\n[17] That is, about 100 English miles.--_Trans._\n\n[18] See above, p. 14.--_Trans._\n\n[19] Solomon ben Isaac, as he is more correctly named, or Raschi, as he\nis also called, was an eminent Talmudic scholar of Troyes in the latter\nhalf of the eleventh century. It was his son-in-law, Me\u00efr, and the three\nsons of Me\u00efr, who may be said to have begun the Tosaphoth, referred to\nin the text.--_Trans._\n\n[20] As it was at one time throughout all Christendom, and probably\nunder every civilisation at a certain stage of its history.--_Trans._\n\n[21] This seems to be Job xxvii. 17, which in our Authorised Version\nruns:--\"He (a wicked man) may prepare it (raiment), but the just shall\nput it on.\" Maimon seems to render it from memory:--\"Der Gottlose\nschafft sich an, und der Fromme bekleidet sich damit.\"--_Trans._\n\n[22] Evidently viii., 12, rendered in our Authorised Version, \"Thou, O\nSolomon, must have a thousand (pieces of silver), and those that keep\nthe fruit thereof two hundred.\" Maimon translates apparently from\nmemory, \"Die tausend Gulden sind f\u00fcr dich, Salomo, und die Zweihundert\nf\u00fcr die, die seine Fr\u00fcchte bewahren.\" In my rendering of this the\npronoun \"his\" must be understood in its old English latitude as either\nneuter or masculine.--_Trans._\n\n[23] The bulk of the gift explains its costliness. \"The Babylonian\nTalmud is about four times as large as that of Jerusalem. Its thirty-six\ntreatises now cover, in our editions, printed with the most prominent\ncommentaries (Rashi and Tosafoth), exactly 2947 folio leaves in twelve\nfolio volumes.\" (E. Deutsch's _Literary Remains_, p. 41).--_Trans._\n\n[24] Maimon gives merely the initial \"R\" of this name; but as he has\nalready (Chap. i.) told us that his prince was Radzivil, there is not\nmuch mystery in this artifice.--_Trans._\n\n[25] This horror of memory tormented Maimon to the end of his days. \"He\ndreamed often that he was in Poland again, deprived of all his books;\nand Lucius metamorphosed into an ass was not in a more pitiable plight.\n'From this agony,' said Maimon, 'I was usually aroused by a loud cry,\nand my joy was indescribable on finding that it was only a dream.'\"\n(_Maimoniana_, p. 94). \"He once received a visit from his brother, for\nwhom he was deeply affected. Poor as he was himself, Maimon kept him a\nlong while, gave him clothing and everything else that he could, besides\nprocuring from some friends enough money to pay his travelling expenses.\nAbove all, he told me, he was affected at letting his brother go back\ninto the wilderness; and if he had not had a wife and children at home,\nhe would have tried to keep him beside himself.\" (_Ibid._, p.\n175).--_Trans._\n\n[26] It was probably a reminiscence of this labour of deciphering, that\nled to the following outburst of sympathy:--\"One day Maimon read in an\nEnglish work, that the author had only commenced to learn the ABC when\nhe was eighteen years of age, and that the first book which fell into\nhis hands was one of Newton's works. His master (for he was a servant)\ncame upon him at this task, and asked, 'What are you doing with that?\nyou can't read?' 'O yes,' he replied, 'I have learnt to read, and I\nbegan with the most difficult subjects.' Maimon read this in my presence\nwith tears in his eyes.\" (_Maimoniana_, pp. 230-1).--_Trans._\n\n[27] Both of these Cabbalists belonged to the sixteenth century. The\nformer, as his name implies, belonged to Cordova in Spain; the latter,\nto the German community in Jerusalem (_Jost's Geschichte des\nJudenthums_, Vol. iii., pp. 137-140).--_Trans._\n\n[28] Rabbi Me\u00efr\u0092s teacher was Elisha ben Abuyah, \"the Faust of the\nTalmud,\" as he has been strikingly styled by Mr. Deutsch. The Talmud\npreserves a beautiful story illustrative of the devoted affection which\nMe\u00efr continued to cherish for his apostate master. Four men, so runs the\nlegend, entered _Paradise_; that is, according to Talmudic symbolism,\nthey entered upon the study of that secret science with its bewildering\nlabyrinth of speculative dreams, through which it is given only to a few\nrare spirits to find their way. Of these four, \"one beheld and died, one\nbeheld and lost his senses, one destroyed the young plants, one only\nentered in peace and came out in peace.\" The destroyer of the young\nplants was Elisha ben Abuyah. Once he was passing the ruins of the\ntemple on the great day of atonement, and heard a voice within \"moaning\nlike a dove,\"--\"All men shall be forgiven this day save Elisha ben\nAbuyah who, knowing me, has betrayed me.\" After his death flames hovered\nincessantly over his grave, until his loving disciple threw himself upon\nit and swore an oath of devout self-sacrifice, that he would not partake\nof the joys of heaven without his master, nor move from the spot until\nhis master's soul had found forgiveness before the Throne of Grace. See\nEmanuel Deutsch's _Literary Remains_, p. 15; and Jost's _Geshichte des\nJudenthums_, Vol. ii., pp. 102-4.\n\n[29] _The Gates of Light._--_Trans._\n\n[30] \"Thus saith the Lord\" in the English version.--_Trans._\n\n[31] About 150 English miles.--_Trans._\n\n[32] Highpriest about the time of Antiochus the Great, that is, the\nfirst half of the third century before Christ.--_Trans._\n\n[33] Also named below Jehudah Hanassi or Hakades, died probably in 219\nor 220 A.D.--_Trans._\n\n[34] _Rabbina_ is a contraction for Rabbi Abina and _Rabassi_ for Rabbi\nAshe. Maimon puts Abina first, but he was the younger of the two. They\nboth belonged to the fifth century.--_Trans._\n\n[35] This seems to be Psalm cxix., 126, rendered in our Authorised\nVersion:--\"It is time for thee, Lord, to work; for they have made void\nthy law.\" See Mendelssohn's _Jerusalem_, Vol. ii., p. iii., (Samuels'\ntranslation).--_Trans._\n\n[36] _Charakteristik der Asiatischen Nationen_, Theil ii., pp. 159-160.\n\n[37] \"And Kinah and Dimonah and Adadah\" in the English Authorised\nVersion.--_Trans._\n\n[38] Here apparently Maimon makes a slip. He seems to forget the passage\nhe had selected for illustration; and his eye, if not his memory,\nglances at the last word in verse 30, instead of verse 22.--_Trans._\n\n[39] Probably Isaiah xxxiii., 6.--_Trans._\n\n[40] Psalm, lxxxi., 9.--_Trans._\n\n[41] In the original, \"Das Kind mit dem Bade aussch\u00fctten.\"--_Trans._\n\n[42] In the same way a fool, called Chosek, was going to starve the city\nof Lemberg, against which he was enraged; and for this purpose he placed\nhimself behind the wall, in order to blockade the city with his body.\nThe result of the blockade, however, was that he nearly died of hunger,\nwhile the city knew nothing whatever of a famine.\n\n[43] In our times, when so much is said both _pro_ and _contra_ about\nsecret societies, I believe that the history of a particular secret\nsociety, in which I was entangled, though but a short time, should not\nbe passed over in this sketch of my life.\n\n[44] That is, of course, the 17th century.--_Trans._\n\n[45] _Baalshem_ is one who occupies himself with the practical Cabbalah,\nthat is, with the conjuration of spirits and the writing of amulets, in\nwhich the names of God and of many sorts of spirits are employed.\n\n[46] As I never attained the rank of a superior in this society, the\nexposition of their plan cannot be regarded as a fact verified by\nexperience, but merely as an inference arrived at by reflection. How far\nthis inference is well founded, can be determined merely by analogy\naccording to the rules of probability.\n\n[47] The ingenuity of this interpretation consists in the fact, that in\nHebrew \u05e0\u05d2\u05df  may stand for the infinitive of _play_, as well as\nfor a _musical instrument_, and that the prefix \u05db may be\ntranslated either _as_, in the sense of _when_, or _as_, in the sense of\n_like_. The superiors of this sect, who _wrenched passages of the Holy\nScriptures from their context_, regarding themselves as merely vehicles\nof their teachings, selected accordingly that interpretation of this\npassage, which fitted best their principle of _self-annihilation_ before\nGod.\n\n[48] Maimon in a footnote here refers, by way of a parallel, to the\ninterpretation by a Catholic theologian of a passage in Ezekiel (xliv.,\n1-2) as an allegorical prophecy of the Virgin Mary; but most readers\nwill probably prefer to leave the exposition of the allegory to the\nimagination of those who choose to follow it out.--_Trans._\n\n[49] A trait of these, as of all uncultivated men, is their contempt of\nthe other sex.\n\n[50] Of this class I became acquainted with one. He was a young man of\ntwenty-two, of very weak bodily constitution, lean and pale. He\ntravelled in Poland as a missionary. In his look there was something so\nterrible, so commanding, that he ruled men by means of it quite\ndespotically. Wherever he came he inquired about the constitution of the\ncongregation, rejected whatever displeased him, and made new regulations\nwhich were punctually followed. The elders of the congregation, for the\nmost part old respectable men, who far excelled him in learning,\ntrembled before his face. A great scholar, who would not believe the\ninfallibility of this superior, was seized with such terror by his\nthreatening look, that he fell into a violent fever of which he died.\nSuch extraordinary courage and determination had this man attained\nmerely through early exercises in Stoicism.\n\n[51] Born 1720; died 1797. See Jost's _Geschichte des Judenthums_, Vol.\niii., pp. 248-250.--_Trans._\n\n[52] _Exodus_, iii., 13, 14.\n\n[53] These names are taken from _Maimoniana_, p. 108.--_Trans._\n\n[54] The method, in which, as before explained, I had learnt to read and\nto understand books without any preparatory studies, and to which I had\nbeen driven in Poland by the want of books, grew to such an expertness,\nthat I felt certain beforehand of being able to understand anything.\n\n[55] Here there seems in the original an evident misprint of\n_Vereinigung_ for _Verneinung_.--_Trans._\n\n[56] The incident referred to was the following. Lavater had translated\ninto German a work, which had a great reputation in its day, by the\neminent Swiss scientific writer, Bonnet, on the evidences of\nChristianity. Out of respect for Mendelssohn, Lavater dedicated the\ntranslation to him, requiring him, however, either to refute the work,\nor to do \"what policy, love of truth, and probity demand,--what Socrates\nwould doubtless have done, had _he_ read the work, and found it\nunanswerable.\" Mendelssohn was thus placed in an awkward dilemma. He\ncould not well let the challenge pass unacknowledged; and yet, owing to\nthe disabilities under which the Jews laboured all over the world, he\nwould have seriously imperilled their interests by appearing even to\nimpugn the evidences of Christianity. He had, moreover, resolved never\nto enter into religious controversy. Under the circumstances his reply\nwas masterly as it was dignified and candid. Lavater saw his mistake;\nand it is but due to him to say, that he publicly apologised for it in\nthe fullest and frankest manner.--_Trans._\n\n[57] This \"hiatus _haud_ valde deflendus\" is in the original.--_Trans._\n\n[58] This name is taken from _Maimoniana_.--_Trans._\n\n[59] The love of life, that is, the instinct of self-preservation, seems\nrather to increase than to decrease with the diminution or uncertainty\nof the means of living, inasmuch as man is thereby spurred to greater\n_activity_, which developes a stronger _consciousness of life_. Only\nthis want must not have reached its maximum; for the necessary result of\nthat is _despair_, that is a conviction of the impossibility of\npreserving life, and consequently a desire to put an end to it. Thus\nevery passion, and therefore also the love of life, is increased by the\nobstacles which come in the way of its gratification: only these\nobstacles must not make the gratification of the passions _impossible_,\nelse despair is the result.\n\n[60] \"Afterwards when he spoke of Poland, he used to be deeply affected\nin thinking of his wife, from whom he was obliged to separate. He was\nreally very much devoted to her, and her fate went home to his very\nheart. It was easy when the subject came up in conversation, to read in\nhis face the deep sorrow which he felt; his liveliness then sensibly\nfaded away, he became by and by perfectly silent, was usually incapable\nof further entertainment, and went earlier than usual home.\"\n_Maimoniana_, p. 177. He seems, however, at a later period, to have at\nleast spoken to his friends about marrying a second time; but the\nproject was never carried out. _Ibid._, p. 248.--_Trans._\n\n[61] He died 4th Jan., 1786.--_Trans._\n\n[62] Kant's work must still have been quite new, as it appeared in\n1781.--_Trans._\n\n[63] The name is left blank by Maimon, but is known to be that which I\nhave inserted. See Fischer's _Geschichte der neueren Philosophie_, Vol.\nv., p. 131.--_Trans._\n\n[64] Samuel Levi, according to _Maimoniana_, p. 78.--_Trans._\n\n[65] See above, p. 41--_Trans._\n\n[66] The last few pages have been condensed from the original; in which\nthe author gives detailed information, which seems no longer of any\nspecial interest, about the articles he contributed to periodicals.--\n_Trans._\n\n[67] By the kindness of my friend, the Rev. Meldola de Sola, of the\nPortuguese Synagogue in Montreal, I am enabled to make an interesting\nnote on this subject. Among the Talmudic passages enjoining industry are\nthe following:--\"Rather skin a carcase for pay in the public streets,\nthan be idly dependent on charity,\" \"Rather perform the meanest labour\nthan beg.\" As a further evidence of the estimation in which labour was\nheld by the sages of the Talmud, it may be mentioned that Hillel, before\nbeing admitted to the Great College, earned his livelihood as a\nwood-cutter; that Rabbi Joshua was a pinmaker; Rabbi Nehemiah Halsador,\na potter; Rabbi Judah, a tailor; Rabbi Joshua Hasandler, a shoemaker;\nand Rabbi Judah Hanechtan, a baker. \"Of all things,\" says Mr. Deutsch,\n\"the most hated were idleness and asceticism; piety and learning\nthemselves only received their proper estimation when joined to healthy,\nbodily work. 'It is well to add a trade to your studies; you will then\nbe free from sin,' 'The tradesman at his work need not rise before the\ngreatest doctor,' 'Greater is he who derives his livelihood from work\nthan he who fears God'--are some of the most common dicta of the\nperiod.\" (_Literary Remains_, p. 25, where there are some striking\nstories in condemnation of asceticism). Mr. Deutsch elsewhere quotes,\n\"Rather live on your Sabbath as you would on a week day than be\ndependent on others,\" (_Ibid._, p. 30).--_Trans._\n\n[68] See above, pp. 140-1.\n\n[69] _Maimoniana_, pp. 196-200.\n\n[70] _Ibid._, p. 80.\n\n[71] _Ibid._, pp. 80, 83-4.\n\n[72] _Ibid._, p. 95, note.\n\n[73] _Ibid._, pp. 82-3.\n\n[74] _Ibid._, pp. 154, 157.\n\n[75] _Ibid._, pp. 80, 95, 104.\n\n[76] _Ibid._, p. 84.\n\n[77] _Ibid._, p. 105.\n\n[78] _Ibid._, p. 159.\n\n[79] _Ibid._, pp. 231-2.\n\n[80] _Ibid._, p. 96.\n\n[81] _Ibid._, p. 140.\n\n[82] _Ibid._, p. 96.\n\n[83] _Ibid._, p. 97.\n\n[84] Fischer's _Geschichte der neuern Philosophie_, vol. v., pp. 133-4.\n\n[85] _Maimoniana_, pp. 190-6.\n\n[86] _Ibid._, pp. 90-1.\n\n[87] _Ibid._, pp. 183-8.\n\n[88] _Ibid._, pp. 101-4.\n\n[89] _Ibid._, p. 217.\n\n[90] _Ibid._, pp. 109-112, 208, 212-3.\n\n[91] _Ibid._, p. 87.\n\n[92] _Ibid._, p. 213.\n\n[93] _Ibid._, p. 249.\n\n[94] _Ibid._, p. 88.\n\n[95] _Ibid._, p. 230.\n\n[96] _Ibid._, pp. 86-7.\n\n[97] _Ibid._, p. 89.\n\n[98] See, for example, _Ibid._, pp. 112, 115, 209, 250-1.\n\n[99] _Ibid._, p.\n\n[100] _Ibid._, pp. 165-6.\n\n[101] _Ibid._, pp. 201-210.\n\n[102] _Ibid._, pp. 183-8.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Notes on some Books of Special Interest_\n\nPUBLISHED BY\n\nALEXANDER GARDNER,\n\nPAISLEY AND LONDON.\n\n_AT ALL LIBRARIES._\n\n\n_JAMES HEPBURN, Free Church Minister._ By SOPHIE F. F. VEITCH, Author of\n\"Angus Graeme, Gamekeeper,\" etc. 2 vols., Crown 8vo., 21s.\n\n\"=A strong story of real life and cannot fail to give Miss Veitch a\nprominent position among modern novelists.... The whole story is\nexceedingly powerful.=\"--_Saturday Review._\n\n\"The work of fiction which heads the list may fairly be described as =a\nsingularly powerful and fascinating novel=. Description by comparison is\nfrequently convenient, though occasionally misleading; but we do not\nthink we shall convey a wrong impression if we say that 'James Hepburn'\nbears a strong resemblance to some of the most vigorous and\ncharacteristic of Mrs. Oliphant's realistic Scottish stories.... James\nHepburn is one of the most truly heroic characters in recent fiction,\nwith a certain largeness and grandeur in his heroism which are\nwonderfully impressive, and yet with a homeliness which never permits\nhim to slip for a moment outside the range of our imaginative belief. In\ncreating an ideal character of unmistakable flesh and blood, Miss Veitch\nhas achieved an unequivocal success, and one or two of the pivot\nsituations in the book are conceived and presented with such dramatic\npower and sympathetic insight, that in virtue of them alone 'James\nHepburn' takes place among the most remarkable and admirable of recent\nnovels.... There are chapters in 'James Hepburn' of which we feel\nconvinced that the author of _Scenes of Clerical Life_ would not have\nbeen ashamed.... Such a novel is not only a book to admire, but one for\nwhich to be grateful.\"--_The Spectator._\n\n\"='James Hepburn' is a novel in two volumes, which is quite startling in\nthe freshness and beauty of its conception.... This book deserves\ncareful reading; there is much more in it than the mere interest of a\nclever story, and only good can result from its influence.=\"--_Literary\nWorld._\n\nThe author of 'Angus Graeme, Gamekeeper,' has produced another Scottish\nnovel of remarkable power. 'James Hepburn, Free Church Minister,' is at\nonce a striking character study, a skilful picture of the social life of\na country town and district, and a powerful sensational story. It is in\nthe first of these aspects that it displays most original vigour.... It\nmust be admitted to be one of the strongest productions of the fictional\nart that have recently appeared.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"There can be no question that 'James Hepburn' is the most notable\nScottish story that will be issued in the jubilee year.\"--_The Christian\nLeader._\n\n\"And of this tendency towards pure character-painting and everyday\nincident Miss Sophie Veitch promises to be the best exponent. In the two\nvolumes which contain the story of episodes in the life of James\nHepburn, each character is carefully studied and presented as a finished\nmasterpiece.... The book is a drama palpitating with intense and real\nlife, whose author should have a grand professional future.\"--_Whitehall\nReview._\n\n\"The book deserves the highest praise. Hepburn's relations with Lady\nEllinor--his pure and noble love for her--are fitly crowned by his\nsplendid self-sacrifice.... The descriptive part of this fine and often\nbrilliant novel is admirably done.\"--_London Figaro._\n\n\"No one who begins this story will pause till he has seen the hero\nthrough his troubles, and we are sure no one who has done so will think\nhe has spent his time badly.\"--_The British Weekly._\n\n_James Hepburn_ is a story of very unusual power, promise, and\ndesert.... The story of Lady Elinor is exceedingly pathetic; and all her\nmoods, as she gradually progresses along a path of peril, are described\nwith a hand at once sure and delicate.--_Academy._\n\nSeldom do we meet with a novel by a comparatively unknown author which\ncan afford such unalloyed pleasure.... It is not every writer who can,\nlike Mrs. Oliphant, throw a glamour over the sordid details of\n_bourgeois_ life. Amongst the few who can do so Miss Veitch may now\nclaim to rank; her novel is a remarkable one, and if it does not attain\nto considerable popularity the fault will not be with the author....\nThere is intense pathos in the loyal struggle of the beautiful young\nwife who believes herself to be unsympathised with.... We had marked\nmore than one passage for quotation, but space warns us that the\npleasure must be forgone. We must, however, draw special attention to\nLady Ellinor's withering summary of Radicalism (vol. ii. p. 242). The\nnovel is one of the very few that follows Mr. Weller's recipe, and makes\nus \"wish that there was more of it.\"--_Pictorial World._\n\n\"A SUCCESSFUL SCOTCH NOVEL.--It is long since a Scottish novel met with\nsuch a demand or created such a genuine sensation as has attended the\npublication of 'James Hepburn, Free Church Minister,' which was issued a\nfew weeks ago by Mr. Gardner, of Paisley, and which we noticed in the\nweek of its publication. We hear that already Mr. Mudie has ordered four\nseparate supplies, the latest being for a large number of copies, so\ngreat is the demand for the story on the part of the subscribers to his\nlibrary. Miss Sophie Veitch, the authoress, had already made her mark by\nher fine novel of 'Angus Graeme, Gamekeeper.'\"--_Daily Mail._\n\n\"'James Hepburn,' by Miss Veitch, is a _clever and strong_ novel.... Its\npower and literary skill are undeniable.\"--_World._\n\n\"Novel-readers who may think there is not much promise of entertainment\nin the title which Sophie F. Veitch has chosen for her new story, will\ncommit the common blunder of forming an erroneous judgment from\nsuperficial appearances. A more interesting or vigorously-written tale\nwe have not met with for some time back.\"--_The Scottish Leader._\n\n\"A cleverly written story here includes both interesting incident and\nwell-drawn character.\"--_The Queen._\n\n\n_SUPPLEMENT TO JAMIESON'S SCOTTISH DICTIONARY._ By DAVID DONALDSON. Now\nReady, Price 25s.; Large Paper, 42s.\n\n\"The work, taken as a whole, entitles Mr. Donaldson to the gratitude of\nall interested in the study of philology, for having performed so\nthoroughly and so well a difficult and laborious task.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"The soundness of the judgment which he has applied to this portion of\nhis herculean task is only equalled by the fulness of his knowledge of\nthose works which cover the whole period of Scottish history, during\nwhich the vernacular was written and spoken by all classes of society. A\nvery large number of the words in the Supplement are recorded by Mr.\nDonaldson for the first time, at least as Scottish words, and of many of\nthem the explanation will be found nowhere else.... Of Mr. Donaldson's\nwork, it may safely be said that it is the most complete and scholarly\nendeavour that has thus far been made to accomplish a very difficult\ntask.\"--_Mail._\n\n\"On every page we find evidence that Mr. Donaldson has mastered all the\nworks that cover the entire period of Scottish history during which the\nvernacular was written and spoken by all classes of society. He has,\nfurthermore, utilised an extensive personal knowledge derived from the\nliving speech of the people; and alike in the definitions and\nillustrations he displays unfailing soundness of judgment, shown\nsometimes as much in what he has omitted as in that which is given. An\nexcellent memoir of Dr. Jamieson, admirable both for the fullness of its\ninformation and the generous warmth of its spirit, adds to the value of\na work without which, we may safely affirm, no Scottish library can\nhenceforth be regarded as complete.\"--_Leader._\n\n\n_IDYLL OF THE CAPTIVE KING; and Other Pieces._ With Etchings. By JAMES\nSHARP. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s.\n\n\"The author gives undoubted evidence of his right to be heard, and our\nperusal of this volume enables us to commend his wide reading and\nknowledge of the world, both in its physical and ethical aspects. It is\nneedless to add that Mr. Gardner has done his part admirably.\"--_The\nKelso Chronicle._\n\n\"Whether Mr. Sharp's poetry be regarded in the abstract, or as the\nproduct of the hours of leisure of a man of business, much of it is\ncommendable, and much is genuine and sound in feeling.\"--_The Scottish\nNews._\n\nMr. James Sharp does not miss the occasion in his volume of poems, _The\nCaptive King_ (Alexander Gardner). His Jubilee Ode, like those of\nbetter-known bards, scarcely represents his poetic powers, as the\nfollowing couplet may show:--\n\n/p\n      Much as we love the Prince of Wales, the Princess fair, serene,\n      We want no other sovereign! We want no other Queen!\np/\n\n\"Tullibardine's Bride,\" though a little diffuse, is a readable narrative\npoem based on a Perthshire legend. In other lyrical pieces Mr. Sharp\nsustains a patriotic vein with fervour.--_Saturday Review._\n\nMr. Sharp's lyrics and shorter pieces, are always pleasing in sentiment,\nand are often sweet in expression.--_Scotsman._\n\nThe book of poems which we introduce to our readers to-day has, we\nthink, amply justified its issue in the beautiful form in which it is\npresented to the public.... This delightful book will do something to\nmodify that conception, and to show that mercantile pursuits and the\nexalted, if traditionally prosaic, dignity of Bailieship are not\nincompatible with a successful cultivation of the Muses. In depicting\none of the most tragic chapters in our national annals, Mr. Sharp has\nattained charming results in his use of those heroic measures which the\ngenius of Scott and of Edmonstone Aytoun has made classic, and through\nwhich these masters have made the dim shadows that erewhile flitted\nacross the stage of Scottish history to stand forth as living men.... We\nhave directed the attention of our readers to these poems because of\ntheir intrinsic merits.--_Strathearn Herald._\n\nIf it be the poet's task to feel pleasure in life and discern beauty in\nnature, to praise virtue and rejoice in love, and make his readers do\nthe same, then Mr. Sharp has succeeded admirably in effecting his\npurpose.--_Dundee Advertiser._\n\nMr. Sharp is seen at his best in his shorter poems. In these, as a rule,\nhealthy sentiment is expressed in unpretentious verse.--_Academy._\n\n\nSECOND AND ENLARGED EDITION.\n\n_LAW LYRICS._ Fcap. 8vo, 3s. 6d.\n\n\"The anonymous author of the 'Lyrics'--is he not to be met with among\nthe sheriffs?--plays his tunes for session and vacation on the\n'goose-quill of the law,' and he manages to produce from that ancient\ninstrument a considerable variety of expression.... His pronounced\nnational tastes are admirably shown in 'Oatmeal,' etc.; in lyrics like\n'Stornoway Bay,' there is the true lyrical gush; while in such poems as\n'A Still Lake,' there is revealed an exquisite power of\nword-painting....\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"For neatness and aptness of expression, it is equal to anything we have\nseen.\"--_Scots Law Review._\n\n\"A very agreeable little book for an idle hour. The author shows himself\nequally at home in the serious as in the comic.\"--_Graphic._\n\n\"They are exceedingly clever, and brimming over with fun and humour. The\nauthor has earned a right to be called the Laureate of the Law, for\ncertain it is that he invests the most prosaic of all professions with\nquite a halo of poetical interest.\"--_Nonconformist._\n\n\"Unkempt enthusiasm and rollicking good humour are the chief features of\nthis little volume.\"--_Academy._\n\n\"A charming little book. We should seek the author on the bench, not at\nthe bar.\"--_Glasgow Daily Mail._\n\n\"Will please not only those 'gentlemen of the long robe' to whom the\ntiny volume is dedicated, but a far larger circle. It is a delightful\nbook of verses daintily got up.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\"These lyrics will bear comparison with the best work that has been done\nin this particular line. Will rival some of the best of Outram's lyrics\nin common sense and humour.\"--_Scottish News._\n\n\"The lyrics are written for the most part with sprightliness and ease.\nThe more serious and imaginative pieces disclose a rich vein of poetic\nfancy. There are many who will procure the second edition from a\nrecollection of the pleasure which the first gave them.\"--_Journal of\nJurisprudence._\n\n\"Will bear comparison with Outram's, Neave's, and Aytoun's. Faultless in\nrhythm, and remarkable for rhyme.\"--_Evening News._\n\n\"The picture seems to us exquisite. Altogether, the work proves the\nwriter to be a true poet.\"--_Stirling Advertiser._\n\n\"The verses are inspirited and inspiring, expressive of the feelings of\nmany in these golden days of summer. To the second edition the author\nhas added some sixty pages brimful of the delightful verses which are\nfound so attractive in the first edition.\"--_Weekly Citizen._\n\n\"One of the two strongest and purest writers in the Scottish vernacular\nthat have been added to the choir of Northern minstrels during the\npresent century.\"--_Christian Leader._\n\n\"The admirable _Law Lyrics_ ... bright with strokes of pawky humour, and\nabounding in verses each of which contains a picture, the volume is one\nwhich will become a lasting favourite with its readers.\"--_The Bailie._\n\n\"Strongly incentive to hearty honest laughter which makes the heart grow\nbrighter, while to staid and grave and reverend seigniors the sweet\nlark-song-like verses relating to nature, no less form subjects for\nreflection.\"--_Ayrshire Weekly News._\n\n\"The little volume is interesting from the first page to the\nlast.\"--_Inverness Courier._\n\n\"Some of the verses exhibit a power of picturesque description which it\nwould be difficult to match, except out of the masters of song. Reveal\nin attractive style the patriotism which animates the poet, and\nestablishes a claim additional to that of his undoubted genius, to a\nlarge and appreciative Scotch audience.\"--_Greenock Telegraph._\n\n\"Such pieces as 'Scotch Porridge, etc.\" are amongst the most felicitous\nexamples of Scotch poetry we have seen in recent years.\"--_Brechin\nAdvertiser._\n\n\"Strong common sense pervades the whole, and the views of the author are\nexpressed with a directness, force, clearness, and simplicity, which\nleaves nothing to be desired.\"--_North British Advertiser._\n\n\"Of a highly captivating nature, the author being possessed of a keen\nsense of the humourous.\"--_Stirling Observer._\n\n\"Equal to anything of their kind known to us after Burns. A very genial\nand enjoyable volume.\"--_Aberdeen Gazette._\n\n\"He expresses himself with a felicity and pawky humour that equal Lord\nNeaves and Outram at their best, and in several poems the natural grace\nand pith of expression remind one more of Burns than any other writer.\nThis may seem pitching it very high, but in our opinion, the poems will\nbear out the assertion. We recommend it to all in the profession of its\nauthor, and to everyone who can appreciate true humour and good\npoetry.\"--_The People's Friend._\n\n\"Many of the lyrics which celebrate the charms of rural life and scenery\nare extremely fine, displaying as they do rare observing powers, a rich\nfancy, and flowing tasteful language.\"--_Dumfries Standard._\n\n\"He is a follower of Robert Burns and finds in the Court, and in the\nTemple, an inspiration which the great Scotch poet found in the fields\nof Ayrshire.\"--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n\"He possesses the power of writing simple flowing verse in an eminent\ndegree.\"--_Literary World._\n\n\n_THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST AND THE SALVATION OF THE FEW._ A Criticism\nof _Natural Law in the Spiritual World_. By Rev. A. WILSON. Crown 8vo,\ncloth, 2s. 6d. Post free.\n\n\"In a former number of this _Review_ we drew attention to two or three\nof the main fallacies of Professor Drummond's shallow but attractive\nbook. We are glad to see that Mr. Alexander Wilson has, with a\nscientific knowledge equal to Professor Drummond's, and with a logical\nfaculty far superior, subjected it to a far more systematic and\nexhaustive analysis. Those who were interested in the dazzling pages of\n_Natural Law in the Spiritual World_, but not blinded by their glitter,\nwill welcome this justification of their doubts in the solid form of\nfacts and arguments, and those who were fascinated by the Professor's\nbrilliant rhetoric and imagery will have a rather painful awakening.\nThey will see the idol shattered which they had to fall down and worship\nas a condition of attaining to an intellectual standpoint from which\nthey might see all known facts in their harmony and continuity. It is,\nno doubt, very fascinating to be able to harmonize and to systematize;\nbut suppose your theory of law, identical in the natural and in the\nspiritual worlds, results in the necessity of assuming that man is\nnothing more than a part of material nature until he is \"converted,\" and\nof believing that the survival of the fittest means the salvation of the\nfew (according to the analogy of the seeds of an orchid, of about one\nperson in a generation), would a God who has made men so be the object\nof religious feeling, or this spiritual world, with its rare and lonely\ntenants, be worth arguing for? It is probable that few readers of this\nnew \"analogy\" drew such inferences, but were merely interested in\nProfessor Drummond's spiritual and scientific gymnastics; but for the\nthoughtful few who may have been disturbed by them it is well that he\nhas been answered by one so capable, both from a Christian and\nscientific point of view, as Mr. Wilson.\"--_Saturday Review._\n\n\"It is this fallacy, the presumption that the laws of matter are\ncontinuous through the spiritual universe, that Mr. Wilson finds himself\nfirst called on to meet; and he does so by contending that the principle\nof continuity applies only if the spiritual universe be itself material,\nand not necessarily even them, inasmuch as there are in the material\nuniverse imponderable bodies to which the law of gravitation, for\nexample, does not extend.... Mr. Wilson has written a very able, acute,\nand temperate criticism, in a thoroughly religious spirit, with perfect\ncourtesy to his opponent; and we should be glad to think that his work\nwould be widely read.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"... The critique is interesting, clever, earnest, and, we may add,\nrespectful to Professor Drummond.... Here, we think, Mr. Wilson occupies\na very strong--indeed, an invulnerable position. This is not, however,\nso much the critic's own position as that of other writers, but, he\nappears to us, in great measure, to recognise and accept it. His own\nwords farther on are: 'The identification of the natural and spiritual\nlaws, if taken absolutely, would lead to the confounding together of\nmind and body, God and Nature.' ... We are much interested in the\nauthor's criticism of the Professor's arguments touching the subject\nwhich gives the book its title. It forms an earnest and powerful\nchapter....\"--_Literary World._\n\n\"An answer to Professor Drummond, a work of some importance has just\nmade its appearance. It is certain that Mr. Wilson's able examination of\n'Natural Law in the Spiritual World' will attract a good deal of\nattention and controversy.\"--_London Figaro._\n\n\"Mr. Wilson, with great vigour and intrepidity, criticises the\nProfessor's conclusions.... The great question raised by Professor\nDrummond's work is that of the relation of the natural law of the\nsurvival of the fittest to the doctrine of election. His critic combats\nthis conclusion with much acuteness and ability.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\nWITH PORTRAIT AND NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n_DAVID KENNEDY, The Scottish Singer: Reminiscences of his Life and\nWork._ By MARJORY KENNEDY. And _SINGING ROUND THE WORLD: A Narrative of\nhis Colonial and Indian Tours_. By DAVID KENNEDY, Junr. Demy 8vo, 480\npages, cloth extra, 7s. 6d. Post free.\n\n\"These unique musical tours were from time to time described by the\nchief musician's son David in different books having reference to the\nColonies, to India, and to the Cape. They have now found a graceful and\nappropriate preliminary chapter in the form of a memoir of David Kennedy\nhimself.... The memoir has been prepared by Miss Marjory Kennedy with\nmuch taste and judgment, and will be read with interest, not only for\nthe sake of her father's characteristic letters and stories of early\nlife, but as recalling in various other ways pleasant memories\nassociated with a family of rare gifts and graces.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\n_LIFE IN SHETLAND._ By JOHN RUSSELL. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 3s. 6d. Post\nfree.\n\n\"Contains a great quantity of very interesting information about\nShetland and its people. By a happy instinct, Mr. Russell has been led\nto write about those things which he knows thoroughly--namely, his own\ndoings and experiences.... There follows the story of the strange\nminister at the 'second diet' of a Presbytery meeting who wanted to\npropose a toast, but was informed by the horrified moderator that 'God's\npeople in that part of the country were not in the habit of drinking\ntoasts.' The rebuked stranger quietly rejoined that he 'had never before\nseen God's people drink so much toddy.' Much, both edifying and\nentertaining, might be quoted from this unique volume, but enough may\nhave been said to gain for it the public attention it\ndeserves.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"We owe much to men like Mr. Russell, who, without any pretence, note\ndown what comes under their observation of an interesting nature\nregarding curious customs, habits of life, and folk-lore, among the\npeople with whom they come into contact.... He is never entirely dull,\nand we prefer such volumes which bring us into actual contact with a\npoor but unsophisticated people to many pretentious stories. We follow\nthe minister as he goes out and in among the people, suffering hardship,\nvisiting, catechising, getting up a stock of fifty sermons, relating odd\nanecdotes, and noting down peculiarities. We recommend this book to all\nwho are interested in the subject. It makes luminous to us the obscure\nlives and labours of an interesting people.\"--_Pen and Pencil._\n\n\"An interesting and thoroughly realistic picture of life in Shetland is\npresented to us in this volume by Mr. Russell, whose sojourn in those\nNorthern islands gave him good opportunity of observing the place and\nthe people.... Good stories, and brief observations and remarks on the\ngeology, natural history, and antiquities of the islands, and the\npeculiar manners and customs of the people, ever and anon crop out in\nthe narrative.... It contains, however, a faithfully accurate and very\nreliable description of _Ultima Thule_. And as the reader closes the\nvolume he will find that he has made acquaintance at once with a\nsingular country, and a pleasant guide to its chief points of\ninterest.\"--_Aberdeen Free Press._\n\n\"A bright and entertaining volume, and a valuable volume withal, anent\nShetland and the Shetlanders.... I know no book on Shetland equal to\nthis of Mr. Russell's. Its style is pointed and racy; the author talks\nabout what he knows and what he knows intimately. To put the matter in a\nword, there isn't a dull page in 'Three Years in Shetland,' from the\ntitle to the sentence at the close in which Mr. Russell expresses the\nwish that 'all good things may attend' the islanders among whom he spent\nthree delightful years.\"--_Bailie._\n\n\"A very readable book about a very interesting people.... A minister, of\ncourse, enjoys altogether exceptional opportunities, and Mr. Russell\nseems to have made good use of them. He writes frankly about things as\nhe found them, which he is perhaps all the better able to do for his\nchange to the position of an outsider.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\"It contains some of the best clerical stories--though not always of the\nmost dignified nature, nor such as will tend to exalt the cloth in the\nestimation of rude and irreverent laics--that we have come across, and\nit gives very interesting, and for the most part accurate, details of\nthe everyday life of the people.\"--_Elgin Courant and Courier._\n\n\nUNIFORM WITH \"BENDERLOCH.\"\n\n_LOCH CRERAN. Notes from the West Highlands._ By W. ANDERSON SMITH.\nCrown 8vo, cloth, 6s. Post free.\n\n\"Readers of Mr. W. Anderson Smith's _Benderloch_ will welcome from the\nsame pen a second instalment of notes of natural history in the Western\nHighlands entitled _Loch Creran_.... The influences of free moorland air\nand buoyant water, of a spacious heaven and wide horizon, are with us,\nand give zest to the study of fish and fowl and flower that are\nliberally displayed. Whether it is the flight of a solitary bunting, or\nthe habitat of the pipe-fish (_Sygnathus_), the progress of _My\u00e6_ in the\nrefluent tide or a nested robin domiciled among strange perils, the\nscenic suggestion cannot fail to persuade the senses. A large and\ndistinctive portion of Mr. Smith's book is devoted to the investigation\nof the rich spoil of the dredger, as might be anticipated of so\nenthusiastic a student of fish culture, and many of the most interesting\npages describe excursions on the waters of Etive and Creran and\nBenderloch, or among the rocky pools and stretches of sand exposed by\nthe ebbing sea. By sea or land, on the wild hills or among the flowers\nand insects of his garden, Mr. Smith has ever something to say that is\nworth hearing, and he says it with admirable clearness and\nforce.\"--_Saturday Review._\n\n\"These charming notes from the Western Highlands are truly fascinating.\nEntering into the very spirit of the life and scenery by which he is\nsurrounded, Mr. Smith gives his readers the benefit of the vast and\nout-of-the-way stores of information he has gathered in all branches of\nnatural history. Each month, as it passes, has a chapter devoted to all\nits manifold changes and doings, and we get many glimpses of charming\nexcursions, not unmixed with danger, when overtaken by those sudden\nclimatic changes to which that grand wild mountainous coast is often\nexposed. An enthusiastic naturalist, the writer does not ride his hobby\nto death, but, like a true lover of Nature, his sketches are bright and\nfresh, and full of vivid descriptions, interspersed with many curious\nanecdotes and facts relating to both the animal and vegetable kingdoms.\nNo better or more instructive guide to the fauna and flora of the\nWestern Highlands could be had than Mr. Anderson Smith's most pleasant\nbook.\"--_Literary World._\n\n\"They will be well rewarded who follow Mr. Anderson Smith along the\nsea-shore, the hill-side, or the trouting stream; they will find how\nmuch a quiet and attentive eye can glean from a loving study of the\ndenizens of earth, air, and water. The book is provided with a good\nindex, and those who have not leisure or patience to read it through at\na sitting may dip where they please. Like Mr. Smith's dredge, they\nhardly ever fail to bring up something of interest.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\"Students of natural history who read _Benderloch_, by Mr. W. A. Smith,\nwill give a cordial welcome to _Loch Creran_, another and even more\nattractive work by the same observant author. With the exception,\nperhaps, of Mr. Jefferson, no living naturalist is gifted with a more\npicturesque manner of depicting the habits of birds, beasts, and fishes\nthan is Mr. Smith.... Then what a vast fund of entertaining instruction\nis gathered in these excursions; a royal road to natural history is laid\ndown by Mr. Smith, and the student follows it leisurely, culling\ncharming bits of zoological lore here and there. One never knows what a\nnew day may bring forth when accompanying Mr. Smith on his rambles....\nThere is, indeed, no end to the curious things observed by Mr. Smith. He\nseems only to sleep at home, for, with his waterproof handy, he roams\nabout all day in the open air, and comes home at night with a\nwell-filled note-book.... The wealth of interesting matter in this\ndelightful volume is, however, tempting us beyond our space, and we\nthink we have collated enough to make all who love the country, its\nsights and sounds, and health-giving breezes read the work\nitself.\"--_Dundee Advertiser._\n\n\"To those who are familiar with Mr. Anderson Smith's _Benderloch_, no\nintroduction or recommendation will be necessary on behalf of his new\nbook, _Loch Creran_. The work is, in fact, as the preface explains,\nsimply a continuation of the natural history sketches of which\n_Benderloch_ is composed.... With what a happy combination of vivacity\nand patience, insight and enthusiasm, Mr. Anderson Smith scans the open\npages of that great tome of nature.... Treasure-trove of this kind,\nalong with notes of a more strictly scientific character, is freely\nscattered through Mr. Anderson Smith's pages; and so it will have a\ncharm for every reader with healthy natural tastes.\"--_Scottish Leader._\n\n\"There are few books in the language more delightful than White's\n_Selborne_, and in Mr. W. Anderson Smith that earnest Hampshire\nnaturalist has a distinguished successor. His most recent volume is\nworthy of the author of _Benderloch_, a book which, it may be hoped, is\nalready familiar to our readers.... The variety of his researches on\nland and water prevent monotony. The author has much to tell, and he\nexplains what he has seen and done without waste of\nwords.\"--_Illustrated London News._\n\n\"Mr. Anderson Smith's observations extend over 1881-2, and refer mainly\nto the natural history of the district, but he deals also with other\naspects of Nature, and his book is well worth reading.\"--_Times._\n\n\"There can be no hesitation in assuring lovers of Nature that in _Loch\nCreran_ they will find a work after their own heart.... The charm of the\nvolume before us is that it is not the hasty outcome of the bookmaker\nfeverishly eager to piece together into a volume odds and ends of\ninformation. There is an air of leisureliness about _Loch Creran_. Month\nby month are given the results of two years' close intercourse with loch\nand sea, field and wood. The work is one to be enjoyed by those who\nshare the writer's tastes and spirit, and not to be rushed by the\nheedless.\"--_Graphic._\n\n\"Every page has its charm, something at once to instruct the mind and to\ntickle and amuse the fancy. It is not a book to be read through at one\nsitting, but one to dip into occasionally and to ruminate over in\npleased contentment. Perhaps its worth will be best appreciated by those\ntaking a holiday in the country, or, above all, at the seaside. And it\nwill serve as a very efficient guide to persons beginning the study of\nnatural history, directing them what and how to observe. Many a capital\nstory he gives illustrating the remarkable intelligence of the lower\nanimals. Some of these border upon the marvellous.\"--_Perthshire\nConstitutional and Journal._\n\n\"Chatty and discursive, rather than elaborate, the interest in 'Loch\nCreran' is well maintained throughout, and the book appeals to the\ngeneral reader, by whom it will doubtless be perused with greater\npleasure than a more highly scientific disquisition.\"--_Pall Mall\nGazette._\n\n\"He is a charming companion. His descriptions are vivid and true to\nnature--whether he makes us shiver and feel glad of the shelter of the\nhouse, as he tells us of winter's storms and floods, or whether he fills\nour hearts with a longing for the freshness and gladness of spring as he\nnotes the signs of its advent on the shores of Loch Creran.\"--_Glasgow\nHerald._\n\n\n_OLD CHURCH LIFE IN SCOTLAND: Lectures on Kirk-Session and Presbytery\nRecords._ _Second Series._ By ANDREW EDGAR, D.D. Demy 8vo, cloth, 7s.\n6d. Post free.\n\n\"Antiquaries may welcome the minister of Mauchline as an elder brother\nof their craft. We have not seen the first series of lectures, but\ncertainly these contain much that is queer and quaint. Odd people, these\nScotch folks; but there is a homeliness and a reverence about them which\nwe greatly value. Our author is evidently of the Established Church, and\nknows most about the old customs of that body, of which he writes with a\ntwinkle in his eye which causes our eye to twinkle also. The grim want\nof humour in some of the proceedings is about the same thing as the\npresence of humour: you may laugh till you cry, and cry till you laugh;\nbetween the tremendously solemn and the ridiculous there is but a step.\nWe have been so interested with the lectures that we must get the former\nvolume. What times those must have been when guests at a funeral began\nto meet at ten in the morning, though the body might not be moved till\nthree or four! Five or six hours! How did they spin them out? No marvel\nthat the Kirk-Session had to hear charges of drunkenness. Such books as\nthese are the best of history, leading us indeed into byways and lone\npaths which the general historian never traces.\"--=C. H. Spurgeon.=\n\n\n_MY COLLEGE DAYS: The Autobiography of an Old Student._ Edited by R.\nMENZIES FERGUSSON, M.A., Author of \"Rambles in the Far North,\" &c. 8vo,\ncloth, 5s. Post free.\n\n\"Mr. Fergusson, either as author or as editor, has well earned our\ngratitude by giving us a volume which all may read with enjoyment and\npleasure.... Space and its limits will not allow us to dwell on many\nother points of interest to be found in this entertaining volume; but we\ncannot pass without mentioning the worthy dame who said, in praise of\nher preacher: 'There's ae thing aboot yon man--he's a grand roarer.' Nor\nmust we forget the careful landlady who was always anxious to know if\nher student-lodger was as yet an unengaged man, or, to use her own\ngraphic phrase, was 'a bund sack set by.'...\"--_Literary World._\n\n\"We own to a suspicion that in this instance Mr. Fergusson has been his\nown literary executor. Whether this be the case or not, he has no\nreason to be ashamed of the bequest. The sketches have a pleasant grace\nof literary style, and a good deal of power in description of\ncharacter-sketching, while there is in the writer a subtle under-strain\nof pawky humour, and he has brought together and put permanently on\nrecord a number of traditions of University life in Edinburgh and St.\nAndrews that are well worth preservation.... Our old student's\nreminiscences of St. Andrews, where he took the theological course after\ngraduating in arts at Edinburgh, are not less lively or interesting than\nthose he sets down respecting his Alma Mater; and his book is likely to\ntake a place both on the shelves and in the enduring regard of many\nreaders who have had similar experiences and tasted similar pleasures. A\nword of praise is due to the excellence of its typography and\nget-up.\"--_Scottish Leader._\n\n\"We think the verdict will be that Mr. Fergusson has done well in\npublishing this thoughtful book. It abounds in vigorous, and, in many\ncases, eloquent delineations of University life; it is sympathetic in\nits spirit and catholic in its tone, especially when dealing with such\nsubjects as the stage, so frequently abused. Its author was a student of\nthe Universities of Edinburgh, St. Andrews, and Oxford, his\nreminiscences of which are often humorous, and always interesting. Some\nof the anecdotes recorded in this volume regarding the Edinburgh\nProfessors are exceedingly entertaining.... We venture to predict for\nthis autobiography a wide circulation.\"--_Dundee Advertiser._\n\n\"The book is eminently readable, very quiet for the most part, but not\nwithout a few touches of gaiety and sprightly humour; and it betokens no\nlittle culture together with a strong poetic tendency. The contents are\nalmost entirely confined to sketches of life at Scottish Universities,\nwith some playful personal satire, of which various Professors, some\nmentioned by name and others denoted by initials, are the objects in\nchief, although the peculiarities of certain landladies whose province\nit is, or was, to let lodgings to students at Edinburgh or elsewhere,\ncome in for their share of more or less satirical delineation. But there\nis nothing spiteful, nothing bitter, nothing cynical in the mode of\ntreatment. Two chapters are devoted to a sketch, brief but graphic and\nsympathetic, of academic Oxford, whither the author went to sojourn and\nto study for two months.\"--_Illustrated London News._\n\n\"This is a delightful book, calculated to afford much pleasurable\namusement of a quiet kind. It is written in a light sparkling style....\nThe book itself is an enjoyable one, and perhaps none will read it with\ngreater relish than the old fogies who see in it much of what they\nthemselves passed through, and who, by the perusal are led to recall,\nwith mingled feelings, the aspirations, the freshness, and the frolic of\ntheir own College days.\"--_Perthshire Constitutional._\n\n\"By those who have passed through the Universities it will be read with\nconsiderable pleasure, affording as it does such happy reminiscences of\n'College days,' with their grave, plodding seriousness, or that more\nboisterous playfulness which is supposed to be the characteristic of\nstudents as a class. Those, again, who are simply outsiders, and have\nhad no College days whatever, will be charmed by the recital here given\nof the doings of the students, and the customs associated with the\nrespective Universities, the pen-portraits of the several professors,\nthe opinions expressed regarding men and things, the poetry, original\nand selected, and the hundred and one subjects here treated of by a man\nof observant nature possessing facility of expression, besides a keen\nsense and appreciation of the humorous....\"--_Stirling Observer._\n\n\"Many a 'varsity man, who has won his decree in the modest 'little city,\nworn and grey,' will welcome the appearance of Mr. R. M. Fergusson's\n_College Days_. Redolent every page of it, of the class-room, and the\nwild Bohemianism of student life, and bristling with the 'classic'\nditties which have so often made the halls of St. Salvator's resound,\nhere is material for a mental revel in the past.\"--_Northern Chronicle._\n\n\"This series of autobiographical notes deserve recognition, if only\nbecause the style is perfectly natural and perfectly good-natured....\nThe book contains several capital anecdotes and some excellent\nverse.\"--_London Figaro._\n\n\"But after all the charm of the volume lies in the whole life of a\nstudent which is presented to us, for his joys and his troubles, his\namusements and his hard reading, are here written of by one who has\nevidently experienced all. Scattered throughout these pages are numerous\nverses, some original, some well-known students' songs. The original\nverses are very good....\"--_Stirling Journal._\n\n\"The volume contains some very excellent poems which are worthy of\nfinding, and doubtless will find, a place as verses to future songs.\nThere is not a chapter in the book which is not thoroughly\nentertaining.\"--_The Tribune._\n\n\"The 'Old Student' has to speak of Scotch Universities, Edinburgh, to\nwit, and St. Andrews, while he gives some impressions, gained as an\noutsider, of Oxford.... There is much that is interesting and\nentertaining, some good stories, and generally a pleasant picture of a\nhappy and busy life.\"--_Spectator._\n\n\"The writer is always entertaining and kindly, is wise in season, and\nalso _desipit in loco_, and tells some good stories--professors being\nnaturally his chief subjects.\"--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n\"It is, to say the least, eminently probable that Mr. Fergusson relates\nhis own experiences in Edinburgh and St. Andrews. He does so in a\nsufficiently lively and 'freshman' style.... _My College Days_ is, on\nthe whole, as readable as any book of the kind that has recently been\npublished.\"--_The Academy._\n\n\"Mr. R. Menzies Fergusson paints life as he thinks he saw it as a young\nman at St. Andrews and Edinburgh, in _My College Days_. This\n'autobiography of an old student' contains much interesting\nreminiscence, and Mr. Fergusson has perhaps not erred in introducing\ninto his text specimens of the verse into which some of his Caledonian\nstudent contemporaries were in the habit of dropping occasionally. Mr.\nFergusson's little book should find many a sympathetic reader among\nformer _alumni_ of the Scottish Universities, for he writes without\naffectation.\"--_Graphic._\n\n'Seldom have we had more pleasure than in the perusal of these\nreminiscences of College days. No one who has gone through the\ncurriculum of a Scotch University can fail to attest the fidelity with\nwhich his experience here finds expression.... 'An Old Student' was\nprivileged to have more than one _alma mater_. He could boast the\nfostering care of Edinburgh, of St. Andrews, and of Oxford, and of all\nthese he has most pleasant reminiscences. Our author's experiences at\nOxford will repay perusal. The whole book, written in a most happy,\nthough thoughtful and affectionate strain, must incite the most cordial\nsympathy of all whose student days have not been forgotten, while the\ngeneral public will peruse it with responsive hearts and a regretful\nfeeling that they have missed the experiences of which it\ntreats.'--_Brechin Advertiser._\n\n'The minister of Logie, who made a decided hit with _Rambles in the Far\nNorth_, has attempted a very difficult bit of work in _My College Days_.\nThis purports to be the MS. legacy of a College friend who died young\nafter some experience of student life in Edinburgh, St. Andrews, and\nOxford. The fiction will impose upon nobody, although it may shield the\neditor from some blame, for while there is mirth and vigour and kindly\nreminiscence, there is also some very sharp criticism, and much\nreference to Academic dignitaries who are still in the flesh, and may be\nsensitive and inclined to sting when they find some of their class jokes\nnot merely in print but bound in a book.... If certain Edinburgh divines\nbeguile a leisure hour over these pages, they will for once see\nthemselves as the keen-witted see them, and be amazed at the impudence\nof the rising generation. Everybody who knows Edinburgh will recognise\nthe portrait of the preacher who is likened to Dr. Andrew Thomson in one\nthing--'There's ae thing about yon man, he's a grand roarer.' The St.\nAndrews part is full and cleverly done, and will have a charm for most\n_alumni_ of the 'College of the scarlet gown,' because it contains a\nlarge number of the songs, original and selected, with which the lobby\nof the Natural Philosophy class-room was wont to resound.\"--_Elgin\nCourant._\n\n\"The style is lively, and the descriptions of scenes of student life are\ngraphic. The account of the election of Rector at Edinburgh will\ndoubtless interest many, and the chapter dealing with landladies, their\nvarieties and idiosyncracies, is humorous.\"--_Morning Post._\n\n\"To recent students of our two greatest Scottish Universities--Edinburgh\nand St. Andrews--_My College Days_ is charged with intense interest,\nthough its racy humour and chatty discursiveness will render it\nattractive reading to those uninitiated in academic mysteries and\ninnocent of student frivolities. The life of an Edinburgh student, in\ncollege and out of college, in the class-room, the debating society, the\ntheatre, and the church, is described with untiring vivacity.... Whether\nauthor or merely editor, Mr. Menzies Fergusson is to be sincerely\ncongratulated upon his success. Reminiscence is a species of literature\nnot always instructive, not always even entertaining; in Mr. Fergusson's\nhands it becomes both.\"--_Fifeshire Journal._\n\n\"We think the verdict of every impartial reader will be that Mr.\nFerguson has done well in publishing this book. It abounds in vigorous,\nand, in many instances, impressive descriptions of University life; it\nis enlivened at judicious intervals with original verses, which evince\nlyrical power; its style is admirably condensed and clear; it is\nsympathetic in its spirit and catholic in its tone, especially when\ndealing with such subjects as the stage and its modern exponents by\nnarrow-minded writers so frequently abused.\"--_Ayr Observer._\n\n\"It is pleasantly written, is full of the fun of student life, full,\ntoo, of its hardships, abounds with excellent stories, is very\ndiscriminating in professional criticism, while scattered throughout the\nracy pages are many snatches of jovial college songs recorded nowhere\nelse.... Altogether the volume is very readable, and no student, at all\nevents, can find a dull page in it.\"--_Kelso Chronicle._\n\n\n_THE TRAGEDY OF GOWRIE HOUSE._ An Historical Study. By LOUIS A. BARB\u00c9.\nFcap. 4to, 6s.\n\nIn this new work on the interesting and mysterious episode of Scottish\nHistory, usually known as the Gowrie Conspiracy, the author has not only\nsubmitted the old materials to a close examination, but also thrown new\nlight on the subject by the help of letters to be found in the Record\nOffice, but overlooked or suppressed by former historians, of documents\nrecently discovered by the Commission on Historical MSS., and also of\nimportant papers preserved in the French Archives.\n\n\"_A treasure of almost priceless thought and criticism._\"--_Contemporary\nReview._\n\nIn the press. Second Edition, Thoroughly Revised. Cr. 8vo, 338 pp., 7s.\n6d.\n\n\nWIT, WISDOM, AND PATHOS,\n\nFROM THE PROSE OF HEINRICH HEINE.\n\n_WITH A FEW PIECES FROM THE \"BOOK OF SONGS.\"_\n\nSELECTED AND TRANSLATED BY J. SNODGRASS.\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass has produced a book in which lazy people will find a\ngreat deal to please them. They can take it up at any moment, and open\nit on any page with the certainty of finding some bright epigram; they\nneed not turn down the page on shutting up the volume, as it matters\nlittle where they resume. There is nothing jarring in the whole\nbook.\"--_Athen\u00e6um, April 19, 1877._\n\n\"No Englishman of culture who is unacquainted with Heine can fail to\nderive a new intellectual pleasure from Mr. Snodgrass's\npages.\"--_Contemporary Review, September 1880._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass would appear to have saturated himself with Heine\nliterature, to have so caught Heine's mode of thought and his turns of\nexpression--quaint, droll, swift, and scathing by turns--that the\ntranslator would appear to have had no more difficulty in presenting\nHeine as he was to the reader than he would have in presenting his own\nthoughts.\"--_Glasgow Herald, March 31, 1879._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass, in his 'Wit,' &c., has dime a great service in this\nrespect, presenting as it were a full-length miniature of the man, clear\nand effective, wherein his characteristic expression is faithfully\ncaught and where, if we look carefully, we can see him as he really was,\nfor he is made to paint his own portrait.\"--_British Quarterly Review,\nOctober 1881._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass has certainly done great service to English literature in\npresenting us with a compact little volume like that before\nus.\"--_Spectator._\n\n\"A word of cordial praise is due to the translator, Mr. J. Snodgrass,\nfor his admirable performance of a very difficult task. His book is one\nto welcome and to keep as a treasure of almost priceless thought and\ncriticism.\"--_Contemporary Review, February 1881._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass is to be thanked for a very seasonable bit of\nwork.\"--_Examiner, April 26, 1879._\n\n\"We are bound to say that Mr. Snodgrass has done his work exceptionally\nwell.\"--_The Literary World, May 9, 1879._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass has made a valuable addition to English literature in\nthis volume, and has given us a most attractive and efficient\nintroduction to the study of Heine.\"--_The Nonconformist, August 20,\n1879._\n\n\"He has performed his task with skill, tact, and judgment; and it is\neasy to perceive that he has a thorough acquaintance with his author and\nsympathy for his matter.\"--_Notes and Queries, April 19, 1879._\n\n\"The result of Mr. Snodgrass's attempt has been the production of a\nvolume which, for variety and interest, may be pronounced one of the\nmost successful books of the season.\"--_Aberdeen Journal, March 26,\n1879._\n\n\"In Heine, whose prose writings in German fill well on to a score of\nvolumes, we find in remarkable combination the best qualities of German\nthought, along with the sparkle and brilliancy of an accomplished\nFrenchman's style.\"--_Aberdeen Daily Free Press, April 21, 1879._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass has done his selection and translation admirably well and\nwe owe him thanks for a volume which has in it mere wit of the highest\nsort, and more political insight, than any book that has lately been\ngiven to the public.\"--_Vanity Fair, November 8, 1879._\n\n\"The compiler of this interesting little volume, Mr. J. Snodgrass is\nperfectly right in saying that Heine is chiefly known to English readers\nas the author of the 'Book of Songs.'\"--_The Week, April 19, 1879._\n\n\"The 'English Fragments' have a special interest for the English reader;\nbut the selection from Heine's prose works in general, most judiciously\nmade and excellently translated by Mr. Snodgrass, gives a much completer\nview of the qualities of the writer's mind.\"--_Saturday Review._\n\n\"Mr. Snodgrass has not essayed to give at all an exhaustive collection\nof Heine's witty, wise, and pathetic sayings; but he has selected, in\nthe order in which they occur in the complete German edition, such\nextracts as have specially commended themselves to himself. He has\nproduced a very enjoyable volume, exactly adapted to the taste of lazy\nand luxurious persons, who can just take up the book for five minutes to\nread a delightful passage, complete in itself, and not long enough to\nfatigue the most fastidious attention.\"--_Academy, May 31, 1879._\n\n\nALEX. GARDNER, PAISLEY AND LONDON.","title":"Solomon Maimon: An Autobiography.","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":84600}