But at this very time, while they were rapidly assimilating the best
results of modern culture and winning the respect and confidence of the
learned, the Jews of Germany were still laboring under an odious system
of special laws, and beheld themselves excluded from the common rights
of citizenship. The manly effort of Dohm in their behalf had as yet
availed nothing; the voice of bigotry was still supreme in the councils
of the sovereign. And yet they felt themselves to be the equals of those
whom the law unjustly ranked their superiors, and longed to see the
barriers done away that still divided them from their fellow-men. Many
of their number had amassed fortunes, and expended their wealth with
commendable prudence and generosity. They supported needy students,
founded libraries, extended their knowledge, and refined their tastes.
Even the Jewish maidens followed the general impulse toward self-culture
that was setting with such force in the Jewish community. In particular
the works of Schiller and Goethe, as they successively appeared at this
period, inflamed their enthusiasm, and none were more zealous than
they in spreading the fame and influence of the new school of German
literature. Still they were taught to consider themselves an inferior
class, and were despised as such. The position of equality which the
narrowness of the laws denied them they were resolved to achieve by the
weight ol character and the force of spiritual attractions. Henrietta de
Lemos, a young girl of singular beauty and attainments, had at this time
become the wife of Dr. Herz, of whom we have casually spoken above in
his connection with Kant. She is described as tall, graceful, possessing
a face in which the features of Hellenic and Oriental beauty were
blended in exquisite harmony; while the sobriquet of the "Tragic
Muse," by which she became known, denoted the majestic nobleness of
her presence. Under the guidance of competent masters she had acquired
considerable proficiency in many of the modern and ancient languages,
and to a mind stored with various knowledge was added the mellow charm
of a most sweet and loving disposition. Attracted by her fame and
captivated by her genius, the most eminent men of the day sought the
privilege of her society. The art of conversation, which had till then
received but little attention in the Prussian capital, was for the first
time cultivated in the _salon_ of Henrietta Herz. Sparkling wit and
profound philosophy were alike encouraged. Statesmen high in the service
of their country sought the amenities of these delightful gatherings.
Alexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt, Gentz, Schleier-macher, Friedrich
von Schlegel, Mirabeau, Dorothea, the daughter of Mendelssohn, Rahel,
afterwards wife of Varnhagen von Ense, were among the intimates of her
circle. Christians and Jews met here on terms of mutual deference, and
forgot for a while the paltry distinctions which still kept them
asunder in the world without. And yet these distinctions, senseless in
themselves, were full of ominous meaning to those who felt their
burden. Young men eager for advancement in life found their religion
an insuperable obstacle in their way. The professions, the army, the
offices of the government, were closed against them. On the threshold of
every higher career they were rudely repulsed, unless they embraced
the base alternative of changing their creed to satisfy their ambition.
Under these circumstances that fidelity to the faith of the fathers
which had so long marked the conduct of the Jews began seriously
to waver, and in many instances gave way. Not, indeed, that the new
converts became true and loyal Christians. On the contrary, they
considered the rite of baptism a mere hollow form, and left it to the
state, which had insisted upon their conformance, to justify the deep
disgrace that was thus brought upon the Christian sacraments. Moreover,
a certain laxity in the interpretation of dogma had at this time
become widely prevalent, which greatly assisted them in setting their
conscience at ease. Rationalism had stripped the positive religions
of much of their substance and individuality. To none of them was an
absolute value allowed. They were regarded as forms in which a principle
higher than all forms had found an imperfect and temporary expression.
Even the influence of Schleiermacher tended rather to obliterate than to
define the outlines of the contending creeds. Schleiermacher, the author
of a Protestant revival in Germany, spoke the language of Pantheism,
and his opinions are deeply suffused with the spirit of Pantheistic
teachings. He defines religion to be the sense of dependence on the
Infinite, the Universal. To the fact that different men in different
ages have been variously affected by the conception of the Infinite
he ascribes the origin of the different creeds. Theological dogmas,
according to him, cannot claim to be true in the sense of scientific or
philosophical propositions. They approach the truth only in so far as
they typically express certain emotional processes of our soul, and
those dogmas are nearest the truth which typify emotions of the most
noble and exalted character. Allowing Christianity to be what its
learned expounders had defined it, intelligent Jews could hardly find
it difficult to assume the Christian name. It is estimated that in the
course of three decades full one half of the Jewish community of Berlin
were nominally Christianized.
How thoroughly conventional, at the same time, the use of the term
Christian had become may be judged from a letter addressed by David
Friedlander, a friend of Mendelssohn's, to Councillor Teller of
the Consistory, in which he offered, on behalf of himself and some
co-religionists, to accept Christianity in case they might be permitted
to omit the observance of the Christian festivals, to reject the
doctrine of the Trinity, of the divinity of Jesus, and, in fact,
whatever is commonly regarded as essentially and specifically Christian.
It is true the reply of the Councillor was not encouraging.