If most of the rabbinical legends cited in the preceding sections have
served simply to amuse the general reader--though to those of a
philosophical turn they must have been suggestive of the depths of
imbecility to which the human mind may descend--the stories, apologues,
and parables contained in the Talmud, of which specimens are now to be
presented, are calculated to furnish wholesome moral instruction as well
as entertainment to readers of all ranks and ages. In the art of
conveying impressive moral lessons, by means of ingenious fictions, the
Hebrew sages have never been excelled, and perhaps they are rivalled
only by the ancient philosophers of India. The significant circumstance
has already been noticed (in the introductory section) that several of
the most striking tales in European mediæval collections--particularly
the _Disciplina Clericalis_ of Petrus Alfonsus and the famous _Gesta
Romanorum_--are traceable to Talmudic sources. Little did the
priest-ridden, ignorant, marvel-loving laity of European countries
imagine that the moral fictions which their spiritual directors recited
every Sunday for their edification were derived from the wise men of the
despised Hebrew race! But, indeed, there is reason to believe that few
mere casual readers even at the present day have any notion of the
extent to which the popular fictions of Europe are indebted to the old
Jewish Rabbis.
Like the sages of India, the Hebrew Fathers in their teachings strongly
inculcate the duty of active benevolence--the liberal giving of alms to
the poor and needy; and, indeed, the wealthy Jews are distinguished at
the present day by their open-handed liberality in support of the public
charitable institutions of the several countries of which they are
subjects. "What you increase bestow on good works," says the Hindú sage.
"Charity is to money what salt is to meat," says the Hebrew philosopher:
if the wealthy are not charitable their riches will perish. In
illustration of this maxim is the story of
_Rabbi Jochonan and the Poor Woman._
One day Rabbi Jochonan was riding outside the city of Jerusalem,
followed by his disciples, when he observed a poor woman laboriously
gathering the grain that dropped from the mouths of the horses of the
Arabs as they were feeding. Looking up and recognising Jochonan, she
cried: "O Rabbi, assist me!" "Who art thou?" demanded Jochonan. "I am
the daughter of Nakdimon, the son of Guryon." "Why, what has become of
thy father's money--the dowry thou receivedst on thy wedding day?" "Ah,
Rabbi, is there not a saying in Jerusalem, 'the salt was wanting to the
money?'" "But thy husband's money?" "That followed the other: I have
lost them both." The good Rabbi wept for the poor woman and helped her.
Then said he to his disciples, as they continued on their way: "I
remember that when I signed that woman's marriage contract her father
gave her as a dowry one million of gold dínars, and her husband was a
man of considerable wealth besides."
* * * * *
The ill-fated riches of Nakdimon are referred to in another tale, as a
lesson to those who are not charitable according to their means:
_A Safe Investment._
Rabbi Taraphon, though a very wealthy man, was exceedingly avaricious,
and seldom gave help to the poor. Once, however, he involuntarily
bestowed a considerable sum in relieving the distressed. Rabbi Akiba
came to him one day, and told him that he knew of certain real estate,
which would be a very profitable investment. Rabbi Taraphon handed him
4000 dínars in gold to be so invested, and Rabbi Akiba forthwith
distributed the whole among the poor. By-and-by, Rabbi Taraphon,
happening to meet his friend, desired to know where the real estate was
in which his money had been invested. Rabbi Akiba took him to the
college, where he caused one of the boys to read aloud the 112th Psalm,
and on his reaching the 9th verse, "He distributeth, he giveth to the
needy, his righteousness endureth for ever"--"There," said he, "thou
seest where thy money is invested." "And why hast thou done this?"
demanded Rabbi Taraphon. "Hast thou forgotten," answered his friend,
"how Nakdimon, the son of Guryon, was punished because he gave not
according to his means?" "But why didst thou not tell me of thy purpose?
I could myself have bestowed my money on the poor." "Nay," rejoined
Rabbi Akiba, "it is a greater virtue to cause another to give than to
give one's self."
* * * * *
Resignation to the divine will under sore family bereavements has,
perhaps, never been more beautifully illustrated than by the incident
related of the Rabbi Meir. This little tale, as follows, is one of three
Talmudic narratives which the poet Coleridge has translated:[82]
_The Jewels._
The celebrated teacher Rabbi Meir sat during the whole of the Sabbath
day in the public school instructing the people. During his absence from
the house his two sons died, both of them of uncommon beauty, and
enlightened in the law. His wife bore them to her bed-chamber, laid them
upon the marriage-bed, and spread a white covering over their bodies. In
the evening the Rabbi Meir came home. "Where are my two sons," he asked,
"that I may give them my blessing? I repeatedly looked round the school,
and I did not see them there." She reached him a goblet. He praised the
Lord at the going out of the Sabbath, drank, and again asked: "Where are
my sons, that they too may drink of the cup of blessing?" "They will not
be afar off," she said, and placed food before him that he might eat. He
was in a gladsome and genial mood, and when he had said grace after the
meal, she thus addressed him: "Rabbi, with thy permission, I would fain
propose to thee one question." "Ask it then, my love," he replied. "A
few days ago a person entrusted some jewels into my custody, and now he
demands them of me; should I give them back again?" "This is a
question," said the Rabbi, "which my wife should not have thought it
necessary to ask. What! wouldst thou hesitate or be reluctant to restore
to every one his own?" "No," she replied; "but yet I thought it best not
to restore them without acquainting you therewith." She then led him to
the chamber, and, stepping to the bed, took the white covering from the
dead bodies. "Ah, my sons--my sons!" thus loudly lamented the father.
"My sons! the light of my eyes, and the light of my understanding! I was
your father, but ye were my teachers in the law." The mother turned away
and wept bitterly. At length she took her husband by the hand, and said:
"Rabbi, didst thou not teach me that we must not be reluctant to restore
that which was entrusted to our keeping? See--'the Lord gave, the Lord
hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!'"[83] "Blessed be the
name of the Lord!" echoed Rabbi Meir. "And blessed be his name for thy
sake too, for well is it written: 'Whoso hath found a virtuous wife,
hath a greater prize than rubies; she openeth her mouth with wisdom, and
in her tongue is the law of kindness.'"[84]
[82] _The Friend_, ed. 1850, vol. ii, p. 247.
[83] Book of Job, i, 21.
[84] Prov. xxxi, 10, 26.
* * * * *
The originals of not a few of the early Italian tales are found in the
Talmud--the author of the _Cento Novelle Antiche_, Boccaccio, Sacchetti,
and other novelists having derived the groundwork of many of their
fictions from the _Gesta Romanorum_ and the _Disciplina Clericalis_ of
Peter Alfonsus, which are largely composed of tales drawn from Eastern
sources. The 123rd novel of Sacchetti, in which a young man carves a
capon in a whimsical fashion, finds its original in the following
Talmudic story:
_The Capon-Carver._
It happened that a citizen of Jerusalem, while on a distant provincial
journey on business, was suddenly taken ill, and, feeling himself to be
at the point of death, he sent for the master of the house, and desired
him to take charge of his property until his son should arrive to claim
it; but, in order to make sure that the claimant was really the son, he
was not to deliver up the property until the applicant had proved his
wisdom by performing three ingenious actions. Shortly after having given
his friend these injunctions the merchant died, and the melancholy
intelligence was duly transmitted to his son, who in the course of a few
weeks left Jerusalem to claim his property. On reaching the town where
his father's friend resided, he began to inquire of the people where his
house was situated, and, finding no one who could, or would, give him
this necessary information, the youth was in sore perplexity how to
proceed in his quest, when he observed a man carrying a heavy load of
firewood. "How much for that wood?" he cried. The man readily named his
price. "Thou shalt have it," said the stranger. "Carry it to the house
of ---- [naming his father's friend], and I will follow thee." Well
satisfied to have found a purchaser on his own terms, the man at once
proceeded as he was desired, and on arriving at the house he threw down
his load before the door. "What is all this?" demanded the master. "I
have not ordered any wood." "Perhaps not," said the man; "but the person
behind me has bought it, and desired me to bring it hither." The
stranger had now come up, and, saluting the master of the house, told
him who he was, and explained that, since he could not ascertain where
his house was situated by inquiries of people in the streets, he had
adopted this expedient, which had succeeded. The master praised the
young man's ingenuity, and led him into the house.
When the several members of the family, together with the stranger, were
assembled round the dinner-table, the master of the house, in order to
test the stranger's ingenuity, desired his guest to carve a dish
containing five chickens, and to distribute a portion to each of the
persons who were present--namely, the master and mistress, their two
daughters and two sons, and himself. The young stranger acquitted
himself of the duty in this manner: One of the chickens he divided
between the master and the mistress; another between the two daughters;
the third between the two sons; and the remaining two he took for his
own share. "This visitor of mine," thought the master, "is a curious
carver; but I will try him once more at supper."
Various amusements made the afternoon pass very agreeably to the
stranger, until supper-time, when a fine capon was placed upon the
table, which the master desired his guest to carve for the company. The
young man took the capon, and began to carve and distribute it thus: To
the master of the house he gave the head; to the mistress, the inward
part; to the two daughters, each a wing; to the two sons, each a leg;
and the remainder he took for himself. After supper the master of the
house thus addressed his visitor: "Friend, I thought thy carving at
dinner somewhat peculiar, but thy distribution of the capon this evening
seems to me extremely whimsical. Give me leave to ask, do the citizens
of Jerusalem usually carve their capons in this fashion?"
"Master," said the youth, "I will gladly explain my system of carving,
which does appear to you so strange. At dinner I was requested to divide
five chickens among seven persons. This I could not do otherwise than
arithmetically; therefore, I adopted the perfect number _three_ as my
guide--thou, thy wife, and one chicken made _three_; thy two daughters
and one chicken made _three_; thy two sons and one chicken made _three_;
and I had to take the remaining chickens for my own share, as two
chickens and myself made _three_." "Very ingenious, I must confess,"
said the master. "But how dost thou explain thy carving of the capon?"
"That, master, I performed according to what appeared to me the fitness
of things. I gave the head of the capon to thee, because thou art the
head of this house; I gave the inward part to the mistress, as typical
of her fruitfulness; thy daughters are both of marriageable years, and,
as it is natural to wish them well settled in life, I gave each of them
a wing, to indicate that they should soon fly abroad; thy two sons are
the pillars of thy house, and to them I gave the legs, which are the
supporters of the animal; while to myself I took that part of the capon
which most resembles a boat, in which I came hither, and in which I
intend to return." From these proofs of his ingenuity the master was now
fully convinced that the stranger was the true son of his late friend
the merchant, and next morning he delivered to him his father's
property.[85]
[85] The droll incident of dividing the capon, besides being
found in Sacchetti, forms part of a popular story
current in Sicily, and is thus related in Professor
Crane's _Italian Popular Tales_, p. 311 ff., taken from
Prof. Comparetti's _Fiabe, Novelle, e Racconti_
(Palermo, 1875), No. 43, "La Ragazza astuta": Once upon
a time there was a huntsman who had a wife and two
children, a son and a daughter; and all lived together
in a wood where no one ever came, and so they knew
nothing about the world. The father alone sometimes went
to the city, and brought back the news. The king's son
once went hunting, and lost himself in that wood, and
while he was seeking his way it became night. He was
weary and hungry. Imagine how he felt. But all at once
he saw a light shining in the distance. He followed it
and reached the huntsman's house, and asked for lodging
and something to eat. The huntsman recognised him at
once and said: "Highness, we have already supped on our
best; but if we can find anything for you, you must be
satisfied with it. What can we do? We are so far from
the towns that we cannot procure what we need every
day." Meanwhile he had a capon cooked for him. The
prince did not wish to eat it alone, so he called all
the huntsman's family, and gave the head of the capon to
the father, the back to the mother, the legs to the son,
and the wings to the daughter, and ate the rest himself.
In the house there were only two beds, in the same room.
In one the husband and wife slept, in the other the
brother and sister. The old people went and slept in the
stable, giving up their bed to the prince. When the girl
saw that the prince was asleep, she said to her brother:
"I will wager that you do not know why the prince
divided the capon among us in the manner he did." "Do
you know? Tell me why." "He gave the head to our father,
because he is the head of the family; the back to our
mother, because she has on her shoulders all the affairs
of the house; the legs to you, because you must be quick
in performing the errands which are given you; and the
wings to me, to fly away and catch a husband." The
prince pretended to be asleep, but he was awake and
heard these words, and perceived that the girl had much
judgment, and as she was also pretty, he fell in love
with her [and ultimately married this clever girl].
V