Also on a Secret Society, and therefore a Long Chapter.
About this time I became acquainted with a sect of my nation, called the
_New Chasidim_, which was then coming into prominence. _Chasidim_ is the
name generally given by the Hebrews to the _pious_, that is, to those
who distinguish themselves by exercising the strictest piety. These
were, from time immemorial, men who had freed themselves from worldly
occupations and pleasures, and devoted their lives to the strictest
exercise of the laws of religion and penance for their sins. As already
mentioned, they sought to accomplish this object by prayers and other
exercises of devotion, by chastisement of the body and similar means.
But about this time some among them set themselves up for founders of a
new sect. They maintained that true piety does not by any means consist
in chastisement of the body, by which the spiritual quiet and
cheerfulness, necessary to the knowledge and love of God, are disturbed.
On the contrary, they maintained that man must satisfy all his bodily
wants, and seek to enjoy the pleasures of sense, so far as may be
necessary for the development of our feelings, inasmuch as God has
created all for his glory. The true service of God, according to them,
consists in exercises of devotion with exertion of all our powers, and
annihilation of self before God; for they maintain that man, in
accordance with his destination, can reach the highest perfection only
when he regards himself, not as a being that exists and works for
himself, but merely as an organ of the Godhead. Instead therefore of
spending their lives in separation from the world, in suppression of
their natural feelings, and in deadening their powers, they believed
that they acted much more to the purpose, when they sought to develop
their natural feelings as much as possible, to bring their powers into
exercise, and constantly to widen their sphere of work.
It must be acknowledged, that both of these opposite methods have
something true for a foundation. Of the former the foundation is
obviously Stoicism, that is, an endeavour to determine actions by free
will in accordance with a higher principle than passion; the latter is
founded on the system of perfection. Only both, like everything else in
the world, may be abused, and are abused in actual life. Those of the
first sect drive their penitential disposition to extravagance; instead
of merely regulating their desires and passions by rules of moderation,
they seek to annihilate them; and, instead of endeavouring, like the
Stoics, to find the principle of their actions in pure reason, they seek
it rather in religion. This is a pure source, it is true; but as these
people have false ideas of religion itself, and their virtue has for its
foundation merely the future rewards and punishments of an arbitrary
tyrannical being who governs by mere caprice, in point of fact their
actions flow from an impure source, namely the principle of interest.
Moreover, in their case this interest rests merely on fancies, so that,
in this respect, they are far below the grossest Epicureans, who have,
it is true, a low, but still a real interest as the end of their
actions. Only then can religion yield a principle of virtue, when it is
itself founded on the idea of virtue.
The adherents of the second sect have indeed more correct ideas of
religion and morals; but since in this respect they regulate themselves
for the most part in accordance with obscure feelings, and not in
accordance with distinct knowledge, they likewise necessarily fall into
all sorts of extravagances. Self-annihilation of necessity cramps their
activity, or gives it a false direction. They have no natural science,
no acquaintance with psychology; and they are vain enough to consider
themselves organs of the Godhead,--which of course they are, to an
extent limited by the degree of perfection they attain. The result is,
that on the credit of the Godhead they perpetrate the greatest excesses;
every extraordinary suggestion is to them a divine inspiration, and
every lively impulse a divine call.
These sects were not in fact different sects of religion; their
difference consisted merely in the mode of their religious exercises.
But still their animosity went so far, that they decried each other as
heretics, and indulged in mutual persecution. At first the new sect held
the upper hand, and extended itself nearly over the whole of Poland, and
even beyond. The heads of the sect ordinarily sent emissaries
everywhere, whose duty it was to preach the new doctrine and procure
adherents. Now, the majority of the Polish Jews consist of scholars,
that is, men devoted to an inactive and contemplative life; for every
Polish Jew is destined from his birth to be a rabbi, and only the
greatest incapacity can exclude him from the office. Moreover, this new
doctrine was to make the way to blessedness easier, inasmuch as it
declared that fasts and vigils and the constant study of the Talmud are
not only useless, but even prejudicial to that cheerfulness of spirit
which is essential to genuine piety. It was therefore natural that the
adherents of the doctrine spread far and wide in a short time.
Pilgrimages were made to K. M. and other holy places, where the
enlightened superiors of this sect abode. Young people forsook parents,
wives and children, and went in troops to visit these superiors, and
hear from their lips the new doctrine. The occasion, which led to the
rise of this sect was the following.[43]
I have already remarked that, since the time when the Jews lost their
national position and were dispersed among other nations where they are
more or less tolerated, they have had no internal form of government but
their religious constitution, by which they are held together and still
form, in spite of their political dispersion, an organic whole. Their
leaders, therefore, have allowed themselves to be occupied with nothing
so much as with imparting additional strength to this, the only bond of
union by which the Jews still constitute a nation. But the doctrines of
their faith and the laws of their religion take their origin in the Holy
Scriptures, while these leave much that is indefinite in regard to their
exposition and application to particular cases. Consequently the aid of
tradition is of necessity called in, and by this means the method of
expounding the Holy Scriptures, as well as the deduction of cases left
undetermined by them, is made to appear as if specified in determinate
laws. This tradition could not of course be entrusted to the whole
nation, but merely to a particular body--a sort of legislative
commission.
By this means, however, the evil was not avoided. Tradition itself left
much that was still indeterminate. The deduction of particular cases
from the general, and the new laws demanded by the circumstances of
different times, gave occasion for many controversies; but through these
very controversies and the mode of their settlement, this body became
always more numerous, and its influence on the nation more powerful.
The Jewish constitution is therefore in its form aristocratic, and is
accordingly exposed to all the abuses of an aristocracy. The unlearned
classes of the people, being burdened with the care of supporting not
only themselves but also the indispensable learned class, were unable to
give their attention to abuses of the kind. But from time to time men
have arisen out of the legislative body itself, who have not only
denounced its abuses, but have even called in question its authority.
Of this sort was the founder of the Christian religion, who at the very
outset placed himself in opposition to the tyranny of this aristocracy,
and brought back the whole ceremonial law to its origin, namely, a pure
moral system, to which the ceremonial law stands related as means to
end. In this way the reformation at least of a part of the nation was
accomplished. Of the same sort also was the notorious Shabbethai Zebi,
who, at the close of last century[44] set himself up as Messiah, and was
going to abolish the whole ceremonial law, especially the rabbinical
institutions. A moral system founded upon reason would, owing to the
deeply rooted prejudices of the nation at that time, have been powerless
to work out a wholesome reformation. To their prejudices and fanaticism
therefore it was necessary to oppose prejudices and fanaticism. This
was done in the following way.
A secret society, whose founders belonged to the disaffected spirits of
the nation, had already taken root in it for a long time. A certain
French rabbi, named Moses de Leon, is said, according to Rabbi Joseph
Candia, to have composed the _Zohar_, and to have foisted it upon the
nation as an old book having for its author the celebrated Talmudist,
Rabbi ben Jochai. This book contains, as stated above, an exposition of
the Holy Scriptures in accordance with the principles of the Cabbalah;
or rather, it contains these principles themselves delivered in the form
of an exposition of the Holy Scriptures, and drawn, as it were, from
these. It has, like Janus, a double face, and admits, therefore, of a
double interpretation.
The one is that which is given with great diffuseness in Cabbalistic
writings, and has been brought into a system. Here is a wide field for
the imagination, where it can revel at will without being in the end
better instructed on the matter than before. Here are delivered, in
figurative language, many moral and physical truths, which lose
themselves at last in the labyrinth of the hyperphysical. This method of
treating the Cabbalah is peculiar to Cabbalistic scholars, and
constitutes the lesser mysteries of this secret society.
The second method, on the other hand, concerns the secret political
meaning of the Cabbalah, and is known only to the superiors of the
secret society. These superiors themselves, as well as their operations,
remain ever unknown; the rest of the society you may become acquainted
with, if you choose. But the latter _cannot_ betray political secrets
which are unknown to themselves, while the former _will not_ do it,
because it is against their interest. Only the lesser (purely literary)
mysteries are entrusted to the people, and urged upon them as matters of
the highest importance. The greater (political) mysteries are not
taught, but, as a matter of course, are brought into practice.
A certain Cabbalist, Rabbi Joel Baalshem[45] by name, became very
celebrated at this time on account of some lucky cures which he effected
by means of his medical acquirements and his conjuring tricks, as he
gave out that all this was done, not by natural means, but solely by
help of the _Cabbalah Maasith_ (the practical Cabbalah), and the use of
sacred names. In this way he played a very successful game in Poland. He
also took care to have followers in his art. Among his disciples were
some, who took hold of his profession, and made themselves a name by
successful cures and the detection of robberies. With their cures the
process was quite natural. They employed the common means of medicine,
but after the usual method of the conjurer they sought to turn the
attention of the spectator from these, and direct it to their
Cabbalistic hocus-pocus. The robberies they either brought about
themselves, or they discovered them by means of their detectives, who
were spread all over the country.
Others of greater genius and a nobler mode of thinking, formed far
grander plans. They saw that their private interest, as well as the
general interest, could be best promoted by gaining the people's
confidence, and this they sought to command by enlightenment. Their plan
was therefore moral and political at the same time.[46] At first it
appeared as if they would merely do away with the abuses which had crept
into the Jewish system of religion and morals; but this drew after it of
necessity a complete abrogation of the whole system. The principal
points which they attacked were these:--
1. The abuse of rabbinical learning. Instead of simplifying the laws and
rendering them capable of being known by all, the learning of the rabbis
leaves them still more confused and indefinite. Moreover, being occupied
only with the study of the laws, it gives as much attention to those
which are no longer of any application, such as the laws of sacrifice,
of purification, etc., as to those which are still in use. Besides, it
is not the study, but the observance of the laws, that forms the chief
concern, since the study of them is not an end in itself, but merely a
means to their observance. And, finally, in the observance of the laws
the rabbis have regard merely to the external ceremony, not to the moral
end.
2. The abuse of piety on the part of the so-called penitents. These
become very zealous, it is true, about the practice of virtue. Their
motive to virtue, however, is not that knowledge of God and His
perfection, which is based on reason; it consists rather in false
representations of God and His attributes. They failed therefore of
necessity to find true virtue, and hit upon a spurious imitation.
Instead of aspiring after likeness to God, and striving to escape from
the bondage of sensual passions into the dominion of a free will that
finds its motive in reason, they sought to annihilate their passions by
annihilating their powers of activity, as I have already shown by some
deplorable examples.
On the other hand, those who sought to enlighten the people required, as
an indispensable condition of true virtue, a cheerful state of mind
disposed to every form of active exertion; and they not only allowed,
but even recommended, a moderate enjoyment of all kinds of pleasure as
necessary for the attainment of this cheerful disposition. Their worship
consisted in a voluntary elevation above the body, that is, in an
abstraction of the thoughts from all created things, even from the
individual self, and in union with God. By this means a kind of
self-denial arose among them, which led them to ascribe, not to
themselves, but to God alone, all the actions undertaken in this state.
Their worship therefore consisted in a sort of speculative adoration,
for which they held no special time or formula to be necessary, but they
left each one to determine it according to the degree of his knowledge.
Still they chose for it most commonly the hours set apart for the public
worship of God. In their public worship they endeavoured mainly to
attain that elevation above the body, which has been described; they
became so absorbed in the idea of the divine perfection, that they lost
the idea of everything else, even of their own body, and, as they gave
out, the body became in this state wholly devoid of feeling.
Such abstraction, however, was a very difficult matter; and accordingly,
whenever they came out of this state by new suggestions taking
possession of their minds, they laboured, by all sorts of _mechanical
operations_, such as movements and cries, to bring themselves back into
the state once more, and to keep themselves in it without interruption
during the whole time of their worship. It was amusing to observe how
they often interrupted their prayers by all sorts of extraordinary tones
and comical gestures, which were meant as threats and reproaches against
their adversary, the Evil Spirit, who tried to disturb their devotion;
and how by this means they wore themselves out to such an extent, that,
on finishing their prayers, they commonly fell down in complete
exhaustion.
It is not to be denied that, however sound may be the basis of such a
worship, it is subject to abuse just as much as the other. The internal
activity following upon cheerfulness of mind, must depend on the degree
of knowledge acquired. Self-annihilation before God is only then
well-founded, when a man's faculty of knowledge, owing to the grandeur
of its object, is so entirely occupied with that object, that he exists,
as it were, out of himself, in the object alone. If, on the contrary,
the faculty of knowledge is limited in respect of its object, so that it
is incapable of any steady progress, then the activity mentioned, by
being concentrated on this single object, is repressed rather than
stimulated. Some simple men of this sect, who sauntered about idly the
whole day with pipe in mouth, when asked, what they were thinking about
all the time, replied, "We are thinking about God." This answer would
have been satisfactory, if they had constantly sought, by an adequate
knowledge of nature, to extend their knowledge of the divine
perfections. But this was impossible in their case, as their knowledge
of nature was extremely limited; and consequently the condition, in
which they concentrated their activity upon an object which, in respect
of their capacity, was unfruitful, became of necessity unnatural.
Moreover, their actions could be ascribed to God, only when they were
the results of an accurate knowledge of God; but when they resulted from
a very limited degree of this knowledge, it was inevitable that all
sorts of excesses should be committed on the credit of God, as
unfortunately the issue has shown.
But the fact that this sect spread so rapidly, and that the new doctrine
met with so much applause among the majority of the nation, may be very
easily explained. The natural inclination to idleness and a life of
speculation on the part of the majority, who from birth are destined to
study, the dryness and unfruitfulness of rabbinical studies, and the
great burden of the ceremonial law, which the new doctrine promised to
lighten, finally the tendency to fanaticism and the love of the
marvellous, which are nourished by this doctrine,--these are sufficient
to make this phenomenon intelligible.
At first the rabbis and the pietists opposed the spread of this sect in
the old fashion; but in spite of this, for the reasons just mentioned,
it maintained the upper hand. Hostilities were practised on both sides.
Each party sought to gain adherents. A ferment arose in the nation, and
opinions were divided.
I could not form any accurate idea of the new sect, and did not know
what to think of it, till I met with a young man, who had already been
initiated into the society, and had enjoyed the good fortune of
conversing with its superiors. This man happened to be travelling
through the place of my abode, and I seized the opportunity of asking
for some information about the internal constitution of the society, the
mode of admission, and so forth. The stranger was still in the lowest
grade of membership, and consequently knew nothing about the internal
constitution of the society. He was therefore unable to give me any
information on the subject; but, as far as the mode of admission was
concerned, he assured me that that was the simplest thing in the world.
Any man, who felt a desire of perfection, but did not know how to
satisfy it, or wished to remove the hindrances to its satisfaction, had
nothing to do but apply to the superiors of the society, and _eo ipso_
he became a member. He did not even require, as you must do on applying
to a medical doctor, to say anything to these superiors about his moral
weakness, his previous life, and matters of that sort, inasmuch as
nothing was unknown to the superiors, they could see into the human
heart, and discern everything that is concealed in its secret recesses,
they could foretell the future, and bring near at hand things that are
remote. Their sermons and moral teachings were not, as these things
commonly are, thought over and arranged in an orderly manner beforehand.
This method is proper only to the man, who regards himself as a being
existing and working for himself apart from God. But the superiors of
this sect hold that their teachings are divine and therefore infallible,
only when they are the result of self-annihilation before God, that is,
when they are suggested to them _ex tempore_, by the exigence of
circumstances, without their contributing anything themselves.
As I was quite captivated by this description I begged the stranger to
communicate to me some of these divine teachings. He clapped his hand on
his brow as if he were waiting for inspiration from the Holy Ghost, and
turned to me with a solemn mien and his arms half-bared, which he
brought into action somewhat like Corporal Trim, when he was reading the
sermon. Then he began as follows:--
"'Sing unto God a new song; His praise is in the congregation of saints'
(Psalm cxlix., 1). Our superiors explain this verse in the following
way. The attributes of God as the most perfect being must surpass by far
the attributes of every finite being; and consequently His praise, as
the expression of His attributes, must likewise surpass the praise of
any such being. Till the present time the praise of God consisted in
ascribing to Him supernatural operations, such as the discovery of what
is concealed, the foreseeing of the future, and the production of
effects immediately by His mere will. Now, however, the saints, that is,
the superiors, are able to perform such supernatural actions themselves.
Accordingly in this respect God has no longer preeminence over them; and
it is therefore necessary to find some new praise, which is proper to
God alone."
Quite charmed with this ingenious method of interpreting the Holy
Scriptures, I begged the stranger for some more expositions of the same
kind. He proceeded therefore in his inspired manner:--"'When the
minstrel played, the spirit of God came upon him' (2 Kings iii. 15).
This is explained in the following way. As long as a man is self-active,
he is incapable of receiving the influence of the Holy Ghost; for this
purpose he must hold himself like an instrument in a purely passive
state. The meaning of the passage is therefore this. When the minstrel
(הַמְּנַגֵּן, the servant of God), becomes like his instrument
(כְּנַגֵּן), then the spirit of God comes upon him."[47]
"Now," said the stranger again, "hear the interpretation of a passage
from the Mishnah, where it is said, 'The honour of thy neighbour shall
be as dear to thee as thine own.' Our teachers explain this in the
following way. It is certain that no man will find pleasure in doing
honour to himself: this would be altogether ridiculous. But it would be
just as ridiculous to make too much of the marks of honour received from
another, as these confer on us no more intrinsic worth than we have
already. This passage therefore means merely, that the honour of thy
neighbour (the honour which thy neighbour shows to thee) must be of as
little value in thine eyes, as thine own (the honour which thou showest
to thyself)."
I could not help being astonished at the exquisite refinement of these
thoughts; and charmed with the ingenious exegesis, by which they were
supported.[48] My imagination was strained to the highest pitch by these
descriptions, and consequently I wished nothing so much as the pleasure
of becoming a member of this honourable society. I resolved therefore to
undertake a journey to M----, where the superior B---- resided. I waited
with the greatest impatience for the close of my period of service,
which lasted still for some weeks. As soon as this came to an end,
instead of going home (though I was only two miles away), I started at
once on my pilgrimage. The journey extended over some weeks.
At last I arrived at M----, and after having rested from my journey I
went to the house of the superior under the idea that I could be
introduced to him at once. I was told, however, that he could not speak
to me at the time, but that I was invited to his table on Sabbath along
with the other strangers who had come to visit him; that I should then
have the happiness of seeing the saintly man face to face, and of
hearing the sublimest teachings out of his own mouth; that although this
was a public audience, yet, on account of the individual references
which I should find made to myself, I might regard it as a special
interview.
Accordingly on Sabbath I went to this solemn meal, and found there a
large number of respectable men who had met here from various quarters.
At length the great man appeared in his awe-inspiring form, clothed in
white satin. Even his shoes and snuffbox were white, this being among
the Cabbalists the colour of grace. He gave to every new comer his
salaam, that is, his greeting. We sat down to table and during the meal
a solemn silence reigned. After the meal was over, the superior struck
up a solemn inspiriting melody, held his hand for some time upon his
brow, and then began to call out, "Z---- of H----, M---- of R----," and
so on. Every new comer was thus called by his own name and the name of
his residence, which excited no little astonishment. Each recited, as he
was called, some verse of the Holy Scriptures. Thereupon the superior
began to deliver a sermon for which the verses recited served as a text,
so that although they were disconnected verses taken from different
parts of the Holy Scriptures they were combined with as much skill as if
they had formed a single whole. What was still more extraordinary,
every one of the new comers believed that he discovered, in that part of
the sermon which was founded on his verse, something that had special
reference to the facts of his own spiritual life. At this we were of
course greatly astonished.
It was not long, however, before I began to qualify the high opinion I
had formed of this superior and the whole society. I observed that their
ingenious exegesis was at bottom false, and, in addition to that, was
limited strictly to their own extravagant principles, such as the
doctrine of self-annihilation. When a man had once learned these, there
was nothing new for him to bear. The so-called miracles could be very
naturally explained. By means of correspondence and spies and a certain
knowledge of men, by physiognomy and skilful questions, the superiors
were able to elicit indirectly the secrets of the heart, so that they
succeeded with these simple men in obtaining the reputation of being
inspired prophets.
The whole society also displeased me not a little by their cynical
spirit and the excess of their merriment. A single example of this may
suffice. We had met once at the hour of prayer in the house of the
superior. One of the company arrived somewhat late, when the others
asked him the reason. He replied that he had been detained by his wife
having been that evening confined with a daughter. As soon as they heard
this, they began to congratulate him in a somewhat uproarious fashion.
The superior thereupon came out of his study and asked the cause of the
noise. He was told that we were congratulating our friend, because his
wife had brought a girl into the world. "A girl!" he answered with the
greatest indignation, "he ought to be whipped."[49] The poor fellow
protested. He could not comprehend why he should be made to suffer for
his wife having brought a girl into the world. But this was of no avail:
he was seized, thrown down on the floor, and whipped unmercifully. All
except the victim fell into an hilarious mood over the affair, upon
which the superior called them to prayer in the following words, "Now,
brethren, _serve the Lord with gladness_!"
I would not stay in the place any longer. I sought the superior's
blessing, took my departure from the society with the resolution to
abandon it for ever, and returned home.
Now I shall say something of the internal constitution of the society.
The superiors may, according to my experience, be brought under four
heads: (1) the prudent, (2) the crafty, (3) the powerful,[50] (4) the
good.
The highest class, which rules all the others, is of course the first.
These are men of enlightenment, who have attained a deep knowledge of
the weaknesses of men and the motives of their actions, and have early
learned the truth that prudence is better than power, inasmuch as power
is in part dependent on prudence, while prudence is independent of
power. A man may have as many powers and in as high a degree as he will,
still his influence is always limited. By prudence, however, and a sort
of psychological mechanics, that is, an insight into the best possible
use of these powers and their direction, they may be infinitely
strengthened. These prudent leaders, therefore, have devoted themselves
to the art of ruling free men, that is, of using the will and powers of
other men, so that while these believe themselves to be advancing merely
their own ends, they are in reality advancing the ends of their leaders.
This can be maintained by a judicious combination and regulation of the
powers, so that by the slightest touch upon this instrument it may
produce the greatest effect. There is here no deceit, for, as
presupposed, the others themselves reach their own ends by this means
best.
The second class, the crafty, also use the will and the powers of others
for the attainment of their ends; but in regard to these ends they are
more short-sighted or more impetuous than the former class. It often
happens, therefore, that they seek to attain their ends at the expense
of others; and their skill consists not merely in attaining their own
ends, like the first class, but in carefully concealing from others the
fact that they have not reached theirs.
The powerful are men who, by their inborn or acquired moral force, rule
over the weakness of others, especially when their force is such as is
seldom found in others, as, for example, the control of all the passions
but one, which is made the end of their actions.
The good are weak men who are merely passive in respect of their
knowledge and power of will, and whose ends are reached, not by
controlling, but by allowing themselves to be controlled.
The highest class, that of the prudent, supervising all the others
without being under their supervision, as a matter of course rules them
all. It makes use of the crafty on their good side, and seeks to make
them harmless on their other side by outwitting them, so that when they
believe they are deceiving, they themselves are deceived. It makes use,
moreover, of the powerful for the attainment of more important ends, but
seeks, when necessary, to keep them in check by the opposition of
several, it may be weaker, powers. Finally it makes use of the good for
the attainment of its ends, not merely with them but also with others,
inasmuch as it commends these weak brethren to the others as an example
of submission that is worthy of imitation, and by this means clears out
of the way those hindrances that arise from the independent activity of
the others.
This highest class begins usually with Stoicism, and ends with
Epicureanism. Its members consist of pious men of the first sort, that
is, such as have for a considerable time devoted themselves to the
strictest exercise of religious and moral laws, to the control of their
desires and passions. But they do not, like the Stoic, look upon
Stoicism as an end in itself; they regard it merely as a means to the
highest end of man, namely, happiness. They do not therefore remain at
the Stoical stage, but, after having obtained from it all that is
necessary to the highest end, they hasten to that end itself, the
enjoyment of happiness. By their exercise in the strictest Stoicism
their sensibility for all sorts of pleasure is heightened and ennobled,
instead of becoming duller, as it is with gross Epicureans. By means of
this exercise also they are placed in a position to defer every pleasure
that presents itself till they have determined its real worth, which a
gross Epicurean will not do.
The first impulse to Stoicism, however, must lie in the temperament, and
it is only by a kind of self-deception that it is shifted to the account
of voluntary activity. But this vanity imparts courage for actual
undertakings of a voluntary nature, and this courage is continually
fired by their successful issue. As the superiors of this sect are not
men of science, it is not to be supposed that they have hit upon their
system by the guidance of reason alone. Rather, as already said, the
motive was, in the first instance, temperament, in the second, religious
ideas; and it was only after that, that they could attain to a clear
knowledge and practice of their system in its purity.
This sect was therefore, in regard to its end and its means, a sort of
secret society, which had nearly acquired dominion over the whole
nation; and consequently one of the greatest revolutions was to have
been expected, if the excesses of some of its members had not laid bare
many weak spots, and thus put weapons into the hands of its enemies.
Some among them, who wished to pass for genuine Cynics, violated all the
laws of decency, wandered about naked in the public streets, attended to
the wants of nature in the presence of others, and so on. By their
practice of extemporising, as a consequence of their principle of
self-annihilation, they introduced into their sermons all sorts of
foolish, unintelligible, confused stuff. By this means some of them
became insane, and believed that in fact they were no longer in
existence. To all this must be added their pride and contempt of others
who did not belong to their sect, especially of the rabbis, who, though
they had their faults, were still far more active and useful than these
ignorant idlers. Men began to find out their weaknesses, to disturb
their meetings, and to persecute them everywhere. This was brought about
especially by the authority of a celebrated rabbi, Elias of Wilna,[51]
who stood in great esteem among the Jews, so that now scarcely any
traces of the society can be found scattered here and there.