Though Hebrew literature is commonly reckoned as one of the ancient
literatures it has an advantage over them which is not inconsiderable. It
is that while no other ancient literature can be said to have ever risen
to any remarkable height of excellence after the close of its golden age,
in the case of the Hebrew there were at least three noteworthy revivals
after its first classical period had ended. The first occurred some time
about the return of the ancient Hebrews from the Babylonian exile to
Palestine; the second during the Middle Ages in Spain, France, and Italy;
and the third in modern times in Galicia, a country which forms part of
the Austrian empire. During the second half of the eighteenth century a
small band of writers of Hebrew prose and poetry, who may be regarded as
the founders of what is now termed the Galician school, flourished there.
The foremost representative of the school was Isaac Erter.
He was born in the year 1792 in a small Galician village called
Janischock. His father, a poor innkeeper, in spite of his indigence, did
not neglect to have his son educated in Hebrew and Talmudical lore. When
young Erter had made some progress in these studies, which, by the way, he
only learnt mechanically and on no fixed plan, his father caused him to
marry a Rabbi's daughter, who, however, died within the first year after
their marriage. Old Erter, however, insisted upon his son marrying again;
and the second marriage proved a very happy one, in spite of the
difficulties which a married man with no definite means of subsistence is
bound to encounter. Perhaps to relieve the monotony of his life he mixed
with the members of a strange religious sect known by the name of
“Chassidim.” Their chief characteristics were the hilarity and excitement
of their lives, and their passionate devotion to their spiritual leader
called “Rebbe.” Although these “Rebbes” are, as a rule, illiterate
persons, they are nevertheless held in high esteem by their devotees, who
credit them with the possession of supernatural powers, by means of which
they are able to work miracles. But, after a time, Erter grew weary of
this society and its absurd practices, and went to live at Lemberg, the
capital of Galicia. There he soon became acquainted with several young men
of talent and culture who interested themselves on his behalf, and
procured him pupils whom he instructed in Hebrew and religious subjects.
They also made him acquainted with the works of Maimonides and
Mendelssohn, to the study of which he later on devoted many of his leisure
hours. He here passed three happy years (from 1813 to 1816), and enjoyed
the society and friendship of some genial spirits, among whom may
particularly be mentioned Rapoport, afterwards Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
Nachman Krochmal, the renowned Hebrew scholar and philosopher.
Subsequently when Jacob Ornstein, the then Chief Rabbi of Lemberg, heard
of the existence among his flock of a small and youthful band who occupied
themselves with the study of secular subjects, he became alarmed, and
forthwith excommunicated all the culprits. The immediate effect of this
upon Erter was the loss of his pupils, and with them of his livelihood. He
consequently decided to settle in the neighbouring town of Brody. On his
arrival there he met with a hearty reception from the enlightened section
of the Jewish community, and as a new Jewish school had just been
inaugurated there he was entrusted with its management. After a short
time, however, he resigned his position, and made up his mind to prepare
himself for a more independent calling. With this object Erter left his
grown-up family of daughters in charge of some friends and went to
Buda-Pesth, at the university of which town he intended to prepare himself
for the medical profession. He was then thirty-three years old, and had
neither money nor friends to assist him, but after five years' hard study,
accompanied by severe privations, he succeeded in passing all the
necessary examinations, and took his degree, and soon after began to
practise in the country. It so happened that at that time the cholera was
raging, and as Erter displayed considerable skill in dealing with the
epidemic, he drew upon himself the attention of the Austrian government,
which entrusted him with the task of preparing certain essays, treating of
the origin and spread of contagious diseases. Ultimately he returned to
Brody, and continued to practise there, making himself especially popular
among the poor, who found in him a kindly benefactor. His leisure time he
devoted to his favourite occupation, the composition of Hebrew essays, or
rather satires on Jewish subjects. He usually sent them to his literary
friends to be read and criticized before allowing them to be printed in
the current Hebrew periodicals. Among them he reckoned, in addition to
Rapoport and Krochmal, Professor S. D. Luzzatto, Shalom Cohen (editor of
the Hebrew periodical _Bikurey-Ha-Ittim_, and Dr. Letteris, the subsequent
editor and publisher of Erter's collected writings under the title of
הצופה לבית ישראל^[129-1].
The last years of Erter's life were again visited by various trials,
chiefly caused by the untimely death of his two married daughters, to whom
he had been deeply attached. He did not, however, survive them long. He
died in the year 1851.
From what has been said it will be seen that Erter's life was a hard one,
and it is to this very circumstance that the existence of the excellent
Hebrew satires contained in the _Zophe_ is due. His sad experiences during
the early part of his married life, his association with the “Chassidim,”
the treatment he had received at the hands of the Chief Rabbi of Lemberg,
and, finally, the observations he had made in his capacity as a medical
practitioner—all these, and many other things, are graphically described
therein. His style is full of humour and sarcasm, and the book possesses
the true mark of excellence, inasmuch as familiarity with it merely adds
to its attractiveness. Erter also wrote some poetical pieces, but they
bear no comparison with his masterly prose, which, as Graetz well says,
has points of resemblance to that of Heine.
The titles of the satires in question are: 1. מאזני משקל. 2. הצופה
בשובו מקארלסבאד. 3. גלגול נפש. 4. תשליך. 5. תלונת סני וסנסני
וסמנגלוף. 6. חסידות וחכמה, and each section treats of a different
subject. It would be no easy task for any one to reproduce in English, or
in any other language, the many beauties of form and style found in the
original Hebrew of these satires. Equally difficult would it be to arrange
them in order of merit, since each has a peculiar charm of its own. But
the following free translation of some parts of the satire, entitled
גלגול נפש (“Transmigration of the Soul”), may, perhaps, give the reader
a faint idea of Erter's methods. It begins as follows:—
“I am a physician, and it is my duty to heal the wounds, and to procure a
remedy for every disease of the body. It is true that those of my
colleagues, who can boast of possessing high-sounding titles, look down
upon me with a certain contempt, inasmuch as they think that they alone
have a right to speak with authority of things they do not know much
about. But I am, nevertheless, as well qualified a medical practitioner as
they are, and my patients do not fare worse than theirs. The only
difference between them and myself is, perhaps, to be found in the fact
that they drive to their patients' houses in splendid carriages, while I
visit mine on foot. For the more horses and carriages a physician has, the
more knowledge and medical skill is attributed to him by the members of
the Jewish faith. Moreover, these distinguished and betitled physicians,
who are mostly employed by the wealthy classes of the community, are
generally handsomely rewarded for their services, even when their patients
die an untimely death, for among the rich even death is an expensive
affair. But I, whose chief practice is carried on among the poor, am
seldom rewarded for my services, and if any of them die, then his or her
soul ‘goes out for nothing.’
“I once passed in front of the house in which one of my patients had died
shortly before. He did not die quite suddenly, but had been ill for some
time, and I was called in to prescribe for him. He happened to be well
off, and after I had visited him once or twice, and he got no better, a
great crowd of his female neighbours and relations came—for the rich are
always surrounded by their relatives and pretended friends—and said
compassionately: ‘This poor sufferer is still in bed, and shall we keep
silence? Can that man (pointing to me) be expected to restore him to
health again? Where are his horses, and where is his carriage? Let us call
in some better and more skilful men, and let them have a consultation
about the case!’ Better and more skilful men were summoned; they arrived
and examined the patient. They then nodded their wise heads, and
prescribed a new medicine, which, having been fetched from the
apothecary's shop, was given to the patient. He took it once or twice, and
was soon after ‘gathered to his fathers.’”
Here follows a long and humorous description of the author's meeting with
the soul of his recently departed patient. The soul told him the story of
its many adventures during its long earthly career; how it frequently
passed over from one body into another, and how it had once also been
transferred from the body of an ass into that of a physician. In that
capacity, the soul informed the author that it had prospered greatly, not
on account of its cleverness or ability, but because it had acted on
certain practical rules which it recommended the author to follow in his
profession. The soul then goes on to explain what they are:—
“1. Powder your hair white, and place on the table of your study a human
skull and some curious skeletons of the animal world. Those coming to you
for medical advice will then say that your hair must surely have turned
white through overwork in your profession, and through your protracted
studies in the domain of natural science.
“2. Fill your library with large-sized books that are richly bound in red
and gold. No matter whether you ever open and read them or not, people
will always have a high opinion of your great acquirements and wisdom.
“3. Sell and pawn everything for the sake of having a carriage of your
own. Your patients may die right and left through your errors of judgment,
yet the fact of having your carriage waiting outside their doors will
shield you from adverse criticism.
“4. If called to a patient you must pay less attention to him and his
malady than to those persons who are round about him. On leaving the
sick-room assume a grave face, and say that the case is a very critical
one. Should the patient die then you will have hinted at his death; but
if, on the other hand, he gets well again, his relations and friends will
naturally attribute his recovery to your extraordinary medical skill.
“5. Have as little as possible to do with the poor. For, as they will only
send for you in hopeless and desperate cases, you will not gain any honour
or reward by attending them. Be therefore exceedingly reserved with them,
and keep them at a distance. Let them wait outside your house, and those
who pass by will look with amazement at the crowd patiently waiting to
obtain your services.
“6. Consider every medical practitioner as your natural enemy, and speak
always of him with the utmost disparagement. If he happens to be young,
then you must say that he has not had sufficient experience, and can do no
good; and if he is old, you must declare that either his eyesight is bad,
or that he is a little crazy, and is not fit to be trusted in important
cases.
“7. If asked to take part in a consultation with other physicians, you
will be acting wisely if you always loudly protest against the previous
treatment of the case by your colleagues. Whatever the issue of the case
may be, you will always be on the safe side.”
In the same satire Erter speaks in by no means flattering terms of his old
enemy, the Chief Rabbi of Lemberg, to whom he had already alluded in
another satire, entitled מאזני משקל. There he had censured him for
having published a bulky commentary on the well-known code of Jewish laws,
called _Shulchan Aruch_, under the title of ישועות יעקב, as being the
work of his own pen. But Erter shows that the contribution of the learned
divine was limited to the title-page, while the rest of it was in reality
the work of other authors. Not satisfied with this revelation, however,
Erter seizes the opportunity offered to him in the satire “Transmigration
of the Soul” to refer again to the soul of the same Rabbi, who had once
caused him such great trouble. This soul, says Erter, made him a full
confession of its origin, and declared that it had formerly belonged to a
mean, scurvy, and ill-tempered watchdog. Being too dangerous an animal to
be allowed to move freely about, it had to be kept chained to its kennel.
There it kept straining at its chain, watching all the time for any
passersby; and when it saw some one coming it began to howl and to bark
violently, and incited all the dogs in the neighbourhood to follow his
example, resulting in a deafening uproar. Woe to the person who came
within its reach without being provided with a long stick or some other
protective weapon. For the dog would attack him suddenly, and cause him
serious injuries. But, on the other hand, if the stranger were well armed,
the savage brute would, in spite of its pretended courage, retreat at once
and crouch behind its kennel. This dog once swallowed a big bone, in
consequence of which it died an untimely death, but its soul continued its
transmigration, and entered the body of a human being. When the latter
grew up and became a man he still retained the nature and the
characteristics peculiar to the canine species, or rather to a cowardly
watchdog. Unfortunately he thought fit to choose the Jewish ministry for
his calling, and as ill-luck would have it succeeded ultimately in
obtaining the guardianship of the souls of his flock. Far from following
the golden path of a true minister of the Jewish religion, who is in duty
bound to promote peace and harmony in his community, he allowed himself to
be guided by his canine instinct, and hectored every one whom he disliked.
He thundered forth his indiscriminate anathemas against those persons who
wished to enter the portals of the temple of knowledge, and induced his
adherents to assist him in carrying out his holy work. But, like his
cowardly prototype, the watchdog, he only inflicted mortal wounds on the
helpless and the unprotected, while he did not dare to harm the rich and
powerful, as well as influential members of his flock who resisted him.
When the Rabbinical tyrant died his soul, says Erter, migrated into the
body of a fox, and thence, in due course, it again entered into the human
frame of a spiritual leader of the “Chassidim.”
The “Rebbe” swindle and the clever tricks of the whole fraternity of these
performers of supernatural wonders give plenty of scope to Erter's satire,
and he is never weary of ridiculing them. In the satire under notice Erter
gets hold of the soul of such a “Rebbe,” and causes it to relate some of
the adventures through which it had passed during its earthly career.
Among other amusing stories it also gives a description of a clever trick,
by means of which its late owner, the “Rebbe,” had extricated himself from
an awkward position, and shows how he had deceived his devotees even at
the time of his death.
“My own son,” says the soul of the departed ‘Rebbe,’ “was once ill, and my
wife, his mother, came to me and implored me to offer prayers to God that
his life might be spared. ‘Be not afraid,’ I said to her, ‘the son of
God's favourite will not perish.’ Next day, and the day after, my wife
begged me again in the name of heaven and earth to intercede on behalf of
the poor sufferer whose illness had meanwhile taken a turn for the worse.
But I answered, and said, ‘Compose yourself, you silly woman. I have
already assured you that my son shall not die.’ Later in the day my wife
rushed into my room, bathed in tears, and exclaiming, ‘Alas, the Lord has
dealt very bitterly with me, and has taken from me my beloved child. What
shall I do, and what shall my life be without him, the joy of my
existence?’ Now it so happened that several of my devotees were present
when I told my wife that her son would _not_ die, and again when she
actually informed me of his death. I was thus placed in an awkward
predicament; but soon a happy thought struck me, which helped me out of my
embarrassment. I pretended to be amazed at the sad news, and exclaimed,
‘What? am I to believe that my own son has died, and no information has
reached me from heaven? No! never. You may do with my son whatever you
like, but I cannot acknowledge his death till it has been officially
notified to me from the world of spirits.’ And when, in due course, the
remains of my son were carried away to their last resting-place, I did not
tear my garments according to the general custom, nor did I follow the
funeral procession, pretending all the time to be unaware of the fact of
my son's death. But after the lapse of several days, when sitting one
evening in the midst of my adherents and devotees, explaining to them some
passages of the Bible in my own mysterious way, I suddenly burst into
tears. ‘Alas!’ I exclaimed, ‘now, just now, I begin to believe in my son's
death, for a heavenly message has just informed me of the sorrowful
event.’ Soon after, I began to mourn over my son's demise, and all the
people round about me looked on with amazement, and believed in me and in
my holiness more firmly and more truly than they had ever done before.”
The soul then goes on to relate the circumstances which caused its
departure from the “Rebbe's” body.
“One evening,” it said, “which happened to be the eve of the festival
called Simchath Torah, the ‘Rebbe’ leaped and danced, according to his
usual custom, round the _Bimah_ (‘reading platform’) of his little
synagogue, amidst the acclamations of his devotees. As on many other
occasions he had then also drunk a good deal of intoxicating wine, and
felt exceedingly jolly. In that sportive mood he called out: ‘Make room
for all the saints of the Bible, who have just come here to rejoice with
me on this joyful festival. Let me drink the health of Father Abraham and
of the other patriarchs, who accompany him.’ And amidst his shouting and
drinking he suddenly beheld a vision. It seemed to him that the walls of
the synagogue were turning round and round, and, fearing lest he might
fall to the ground, and his condition be observed by the bystanders, he
quickly exclaimed: ‘Come ye, my spiritual guests, Abraham, Isaac, and all
the rest of you, and follow me to my own room. There we will have a sacred
meeting, and discuss our secret affairs.’ Saying which, he staggered into
his own room, and locked and bolted the door behind him.
“When the devotees saw this, they said to each other: ‘No one is like our
Master; no one can be compared to our holy “Rebbe”; he is a perfect saint,
the Holy of holies to the letter. How they all left paradise, those great
and exalted personages of the Bible, and have come to his place of
worship, in order to rejoice in his pleasant company. Nay, before our very
eyes has he spoken to them as a man speaks to his friends, and amidst
leaping and dancing has he addressed them familiarly, and loudly toasted
their health. Now, they are all assembled in his room where they are
discussing certain matters concerning ourselves, such as our final release
from bondage, and our return to Zion by the help of the Messiah. Our
“Rebbe” will also succeed in subduing the powers of the evil spirit,
_Samael_, along with all the other legions of evil spirits; he will tread
him under his feet, and will thus prevent him from doing us any harm.’
“While they were thus addressing each other, and their minds were occupied
with the discussion of the ‘Rebbe's’ doings, a boy rushed in breathlessly,
and, in the greatest consternation, told all those present that he had
just seen the body of the ‘Rebbe’ lying lifeless on the ground in the yard
of his house. Thereupon all the Chassidim ran out woe-stricken and
terrified, and behold, there, on a heap of refuse, close to the window of
the ‘Rebbe's’ room, lay his corpse, the dead body of the great saint. At
the sight of which they began weeping and lamenting, and said: ‘Alas, on
account of our own sins and transgressions of the law that righteous man
had died. The evil spirit _Samael_ has overpowered him, and has thrown him
through the window into the yard.’
“But the truth is—thus the soul concludes its narrative—that he had no
quarrel with Satan, nor any fight with the rest of the evil spirits. The
evil spirit that caused his untimely death was of quite a different
nature. It was the spirit he had drunk that had cut short his existence.
For, after his heavy potations of the evening, the ‘Rebbe’ felt rather
ill. He opened the window of his room, and leant out into the fresh air.
No sooner had he done so than he lost his balance, and fell headlong on
the stones below. No immediate help being near at hand he soon after
expired.”
There are several other passages in Erter's writings which treat the same
subject equally humorously, but another short extract from one of the
satires, having for its title “Piety and Wisdom,” will suffice. After
having pointed out in general terms the great advantages which the calling
of a “Rebbe” offers, the author takes the young aspirant into his
confidence, and describes its glorious prospects in the following words:—
“When,” says he, “you are a holy man, you will have a greater treasury
than the king has, inasmuch as all the gold and silver belonging to your
devotees, who may live in your district, will be yours. Any king or ruler
of a land, who wishes to levy taxes from his loyal subjects, is obliged to
appoint and employ tax-collectors for that purpose, but your adherents
will place all their money and wealth at your disposal without your asking
for it. Should any one of them fall ill, money will be sent to you to
offer up prayers for his recovery. You keep, at any rate, those monetary
presents, for if such patients die it will generally be assumed that their
death was a punishment for their previous evil doings; but if they are
restored again to life and health, then that fact will be attributed to
the efficacy of your prayers. The same will be the case when people come
to you to obtain your advice in regard to business or matrimonial matters.
If they are successful, and everything turns out to be according to their
heart's desire, then it is you and your great divine power that have
effected all this; but, on the other hand, if your counsel and foretelling
lead them astray, they will have to ascribe their failure to their own
follies and misdeeds.”
Erter succeeded in infusing a new life and spirit into the Hebrew tongue,
which is generally classed among the dead languages. To quote the words
that he himself uses on behalf of the genius of the Hebrew language, “I am
dead in the mouths of my children, but I live still in their hearts.”
Erter did more than only protest against the lack of originality in later
Hebrew writers; he himself supplied the deficiency. But he was no mere
writer of Hebrew prose. He had the welfare of his Jewish countrymen
constantly at heart, and it was with the object of improving their low
mental and social position that he wrote those satires, in which their
shortcomings and follies were censured and ridiculed. He spared no class;
Rabbi and layman alike felt the sting of his scorn, and it was by this
means that he really did some good. For some time he also edited, in
co-operation with some friends, a Hebrew periodical under the name of
_He-Chaluz_ (החלוץ), which continued to appear after his death. This
journal was intended to promote the enlightenment and learning of the Jews
in Galicia, and gradually to win their sympathies for his favourite
project, namely, the establishment of an agricultural colony in his own
country, in which Jewish young men should be employed in tilling the
ground, and in farming tracts of land on their own account. This healthy
and useful occupation, he maintained, would help to decrease, to a great
extent, the misery and poverty, which are, even now, the characteristic
feature of that particular part of the Austrian empire. And strange to say
the very plan, which was drawn up so many years ago by Erter without being
carried into effect, has quite recently been taken up again in the capital
of Austria by the most influential members of the Jewish community, at the
instigation of the late Baron Hirsch.
Erter's writings form but a slender volume, but it may safely be said that
they will outlive many a more pretentious work. True humour is a rare
possession, and Erter's style will never cease to be a source of delight
to those who have a relish for keen satire, and for an elegant and
poetical employment of the language of the Bible.
Footnotes:
[129-1] Vienna, 1858; second edition, 1864.