To-day Simon Eichelkatz told me about Rabbi Dr. Merzbach. This is his
favorite topic. He finds the most forceful expressions when he gets to
talking about him. "That was a man!" he exclaims over and over again,
"fine, clever, good--much too good for the _Parchonim_ in the Khille.
My, how it did look when he came here! I remember it as though it were
yesterday. The first _Shabbes_ in _Shul_--it was still the old
Shul--they little dreamed a time would come when there would be a 'New
Synagogue.' And _he_ built it. The old one was almost more below the
ground than above it. And that's the way the people here were, too.
Black! Black of heart, black of morals! And first he built a new
synagogue in the spirits of the people, and then he built a synagogue of
stone and wood, so that they could hold their services in a worthy
place. That's what he said, Herr Doktor, I can hear him preaching yet;
and I learned much from what he said, for I never missed a sermon, and,
besides, he was good and friendly toward me and spoke with me as often
as he saw me. A great scholar--a real Doktor, not just a _Talmid
Chochom_; he knew other things, too. On that first Shabbes, the old Shul
was so full that the people stood out on the street, and they were so
quiet, you could hear every word. And there he preached, like Mosheh
Rabbenu when he came down from Mount Sinai to the Children of Israel.
Not that they were bad, he told them, but that they must become better.
And that they must not let themselves be ruled by their instincts and
desires, but that each one must work away at himself to become nobler,
more intelligent, and that each one could do this, because it was his
Divine heritage, which was given to every man when God created him in
His image. And they should be proud to be men, and for that they should
acquire the dignity of man. It sounded glorious; and even if they didn't
understand him, they were so touched, they would cry, and say it was
rare good fortune for the congregation that such a man had become their
Rav. People came from all the places near here to listen to the sermons
of Doktor Salomon Merzbach; and in the wine-room of Heimann at the Ring
you heard about nothing else. Whoever was fine, or wanted to be
considered fine, stuck to him at first, but still more the plain people
and the poor and unfortunate, because to them he was like a messenger of
God."
The narrator paused a while, as though he were letting the past take
form again in his mind.
"He was gentle with the bad, and friendly and forbearing with the
hardened and the malicious, and he explained to them, that if it was
their will, they could be good, because the will was given to man to be
exerted and to be conquered. I was still young then, and I did not
understand him; but one thing I did understand, that a great and good
man had come to preach in our wilderness."
Whence had Simon Eichelkatz taken these metaphors, these conceptions,
these words? I stood before a great riddle.
"But later," he continued, "I understood what he meant. In ourselves
there is nothing good and nothing bad; it is only what we do, how we act
that determines the moral worth of things." I had to suppress an
exclamation. I jumped up and hastily said good-night. It was positively
uncanny to hear the new values, the basic principles of good and evil,
conveyed by one so absolutely unsuspecting of their import. The Jews,
without doubt, possess philosophic instincts.
When I stepped out into the open air, it was still raining. Impenetrable
clouds hung low in the heavens, as if the whole world would sink down
into the cold, trickling mass of fog. The steps leading down to the
Flour Market were smooth and slippery. I groped my way cautiously.
"Verily, I say unto you: Good and evil that perishes not--there is no
such thing. Out of itself it must always reconquer itself."
I said these words half aloud. I shivered, and worn and weary I crept
home.