CHAPTER III.

THE SCEPTICS.

Condition of Judaism--Complete Triumph of the Kabbala--The

Disciples of Isaac Lurya--Vital Calabrese, Abraham de Herrera,

and Isaiah Hurwitz--Immanuel Aboab--Uriel da Costa; his

Career and Death--Leo Modena; his Character and his Writings--

Deborah Ascarelli and Sarah Copia Sullam, Jewish Authoresses--

Leo Modena's veiled Scepticism--The Travels and Influence of

Joseph Delmedigo--The Writings of Simone Luzzatto.

1620-1660 C. E.

Judaism, then in its three thousandth year, was like a rich kernel,

covered and concealed by crusts deposited one upon another, and by

extraneous matter, so that only very few could recognize its true

character. The Sinaitic and prophetic kernel of thought had long

been covered over with the threefold layer of Sopheric, Mishnic, and

Talmudical explanations and restrictions. Over these, in the course of

centuries, new layers had been formed by the Gaonic, Spanish, French,

German, and Polish schools, and these layers and strata were enclosed

by an unsightly growth of fungus forms, the mouldy coating of the

Kabbala, which, settling in the gaps and chinks, grew and ramified.

All these new forms had already the authority of age in their favor,

and were considered inviolable. People no longer asked what was taught

in the fundamental Sinaitic law, or what was considered of importance

by the prophets; they scarcely regarded what the Talmud decided to be

essential or non-essential; the Rabbinical writers alone, Joseph Karo

and Moses Isserles being the highest authorities, decided what was

Judaism. Besides, there were superadditions from the Polish schools,

and lastly the Kabbalistic dreams of Isaac Lurya. The parasitic

Kabbala choked the whole religious life of the Jews. Almost all rabbis

and leaders of Jewish communities, whether in small Polish towns or

in cultivated Amsterdam, the Chacham Isaac Aboab de Fonseca, as well

as Isaiah Hurwitz, the emigrant to Palestine, were ensnared by the

Kabbala. Gaining influence in the fourteenth century, contemporaneously

with the ban against science, it had made such giant strides since

Isaac Lurya's death, or rather committed such gigantic ravages, that

nothing could keep it in check. Lurya's wild notions of the origin,

transmigration, and union of souls, of redemption, and wonder-working,

after his death attracted more and more adherents into his magic

circle, clouding their minds and narrowing their sympathies.

Lurya's disciples, the lion's whelps, as they boastfully called

themselves, made systematic efforts to effect conversions, circulated

most absurd stories about Lurya's miracles, gave out that their

master's spirit had come upon them, and shrouded themselves in mystery,

in order to attract greater attention. Chayim Vital Calabrese had

been most prominent, and with his juggleries deluded the credulous in

Palestine and the neighboring countries (1572-1620) till his death. He

claimed to be the Ephraimitic Messiah, and therefore assumed a sort of

authority over his fellow-disciples. In Jerusalem, where he resided

for several years, Vital preached, and had visions, but did not meet

with the recognition he expected. Only women said that they had seen

a pillar of fire or the prophet Elijah hovering over Vital while he

preached.

In Safet, Vital, imitating his master, visited graves, carried on

exorcism of spirits, and other mystic follies, but not living on good

terms with his colleagues, especially his brother-in-law, Gedaliah

Levi, of whom he was jealous, he settled at Damascus (1594-1620),

continued his mystifications, affected great personal importance, as if

the salvation of the world rested on his shoulders, and preached the

speedy appearance of the Messiah, and his mission to hasten it. Jesus

and Mahomet, repenting their errors, would lay their crowns at his

feet. Ridiculed on account of his wild proceedings, and declared to be

a false prophet, he took vengeance on his detractors by gross slanders.

In old age he continued his mystical nonsense, saying that he had been

forbidden to reveal his visions, but this prohibition having been

withdrawn, he could now announce that certain souls living in human

bodies would be united to him--of course, in a subordinate capacity--to

bring about the redemption, one of the souls destined for this mission

being in a foreign country. This was a bait to attract Kabbala

enthusiasts, and thus secure a following. And enthusiasts hastened

from Italy, Germany, Poland, and other countries to play a Messianic

part. The manuscript notes left by Lurya gave rise to further frauds.

Vital asserted that he alone was in possession of them, and obtained a

decree from the college at Safet, declaring that no one was authorized

to publish information about Lurya's Kabbala elsewhere. Kabbalists

became the more anxious to possess this incomparable treasure. Chayim

Vital's brother, Moses Vital, took advantage of their eagerness to make

a good business of it. During an illness of his brother's, he caused

the writings found at his house to be copied, and sold them at a high

price. After his recovery, Chayim Vital affirmed that the writings

stolen were not the genuine ones; these he would never publish. He

is said in his will to have directed them to be laid in his grave.

Nevertheless, after his death, his son, Samuel Vital, sold Luryan

Kabbalistic revelations, and published his father's dreams and visions

in a separate work. An immigrant Marrano from Portugal, a devotee of

the Kabbala, asserted that he had found the best collection in Vital's

grave.

After this time a regular search was made after the Kabbala of Lurya

and Vital. Whoever was in possession of copies, and offered them for

sale or publication, found ready purchasers. Messengers were employed

to give this fraud currency in the Jewish communities. Israel Saruk,

or Sarug, a German, one of Lurya's disciples, introduced the Luryan

Kabbala into Italy, gained many adherents for it, and much money for

himself. His account of his master's miracles offended the taste of

very few. From Italy he betook himself to Holland, and there gained

a disciple who knew how to give the Kabbalistic frenzy a philosophic

complexion. Alonzo, or Abraham, de Herrera (died 1639), a descendant of

the Great Captain, the viceroy of Naples, was introduced by Saruk into

the mysteries of the Luryan Kabbala. Having lived a Christian during

the greatest part of his life, he was more familiar with non-Jewish

philosophy than with Jewish literature; therefore it was easy to

deceive him into taking dross for gold. He felt clearly that Lurya's

Kabbala betrayed resemblances to Neoplatonic philosophy, but this

disturbed De Herrera little, or rather, it confirmed the Kabbalistic

teaching, and he endeavored to explain one by the other. Finding it

impossible to reconcile the two systems, he, too, fell into idle talk

and rambling expressions. Abraham de Herrera, who, as has been stated,

became a Jew at a ripe age, could not learn Hebrew, and hence had his

two Kabbalistic works, the "House of God" and the "Gate of Heaven,"

translated by the Amsterdam preacher Isaac Aboab from Spanish into

Hebrew, and in his will set apart a considerable sum of money for their

publication. The author and translator doubtless thought that they

had rendered an inexpressibly great service to Judaism. But by the

meretricious splendor which these works imparted to the Kabbala, they

blinded the superficial minds of the average Portuguese Jews, who, in

spite of their knowledge of classical literature and European culture,

abandoned themselves to the delusions of the Kabbala. Manasseh ben

Israel and all his older and younger contemporaries in Holland paid

homage to mysticism, and had no doubt of its truth and divinity.

In Germany and Poland two men, half Polish and half German, brought

Lurya's Kabbala into high estimation: Isaiah Hurwitz (Sheloh), called

the Holy, and Naphtali Frankfurter, to whom we may perhaps add the

credulous Solomon, or Shlomel, of Moravia, who glorified the silliest

stories of wonders performed by Isaac Lurya, Vital, and their circle,

in letters sent to Germany and Poland, which were eagerly read and

circulated.

However, in this thick unsightly crust over-spreading the Kabbala,

some rifts and chinks appeared, which indicated disintegration. Here

and there were found unprejudiced men, who felt and expressed doubts

as to the truth of Judaism in its later Rabbinical and Kabbalistic

form. Many went further, and included Talmudical interpretation.

Others advanced from doubt to certainty, and proceeded more or less

openly against the existing form of Judaism. Such inquirers, of

course, were not to be met with among German and Polish, nor among

Asiatic Jews; these considered every letter in the Talmud and Zohar,

every law in the code (Shulchan Aruch) as the inviolable word of God.

The doubters were only in Italian and Portuguese communities, which

had relations with educated circles. A pious adherent of tradition,

Immanuel Aboab, of Portuguese origin, who had long resided in Italy,

felt called upon to compose a defense of the Judaism of the Talmud and

the rabbis (Nomologia, composed 1616-1625), showing an unbroken chain

of exponents of true tradition down to his own time, a well-meant, but

not very convincing work. The confused Kabbalist Naphtali Frankfurter

complained of his contemporaries who ridiculed the Talmud. Three or

four gifted investigators more or less frankly revealed the scepticism

working beneath the surface. These three men, differing in character,

mode of life, and position, were Uriel Acosta, Judah Leo Modena, and

Joseph Delmedigo; we may perhaps add Simone Luzzatto to the list. They

endeavored to lay bare the disadvantages and weaknesses of existing

Judaism; but not one of them was able to suggest or apply a remedy.

Uriel da Costa (Gabriel Acosta, born about 1590, died April, 1640) was

an original character, whose inward unrest and external course of life

could not but bring him into conflict with Judaism. He was descended

from a Portuguese Marrano family at Oporto, whose members had been

made sincere believers in Christ by the terrors of the Inquisition.

His father, at least, who belonged to the higher classes in Portugal,

had become a strict Catholic. Young Gabriel learnt ecclesiasticism

and the accomplishments of a cavalier from his father, was, like

him, a good rider, and entered upon a course of education, limited,

indeed, but sufficient for that time. He adopted the only career open

to young Portuguese of the upper middle class, by means of which the

gifted could rise to distinction, and to a certain equality with the

nobility. He was prepared for the law, a study which might pave the

way to the second rank, the clerical. In his youth the Jesuits had

already obtained powerful influence over men's minds, and their methods

of exciting the imagination and subduing the intellect by depicting

everlasting damnation and the punishments of hell had proved effectual.

Nothing but punctilious, mechanical worship and continual confession

could overcome the terrors of hell.

Gabriel da Costa, in spite of his punctilious ecclesiasticism, did not

feel quieted in his conscience. Daily mechanical exercises failed

to influence his mind, and continual confession to obtain absolution

from the lips of the priest pleased him less as he became more mature.

Somewhat of the subtle Jewish spirit remained in his nature, and shook

the strongly built Catholic system of belief to its foundations.

The more deeply he plunged into the Catholic Jesuitic teaching, the

more did doubts trouble him, and disturb his conscience. However, he

accepted a semi-ecclesiastical office as chief treasurer to an abbey

about 1615. To end his doubts, he investigated the oldest records of

Holy Scripture. The prophets were to solve the riddles which the Roman

Catholic Church doctrines daily presented to him. The fresh spirit

which breathed from out of the Old Testament, disfigured though it

was in its Latin guise, brought repose to his mind. The doctrines of

Judaism appeared the more certain, as they were recognized by the New

Testament and the Church, while those of Catholicism were rejected

by Judaism; in the one case there was unanimity, in the other,

contradiction. Da Costa formed the resolution to forsake Catholicism

and return to Judaism. Of an impulsive, passionate temperament, he

sought to carry his resolution into effect quickly. With great caution

he communicated his intention to his mother and brothers--his father

was already dead--and they also resolved to expose themselves to

the danger of secret emigration, to leave their hearth and home, give

up a respected position in society, and exchange the certain present

for an uncertain future. In spite of the Argus-eyed espionage of

Marranos by the Inquisition and the secular authorities, the Da Costa

family succeeded in gaining a vessel and escaping to Amsterdam (about

1617-18). Gabriel da Costa and his brothers were admitted to the

covenant of Abraham, and Gabriel changed his name to Uriel.

Of a hot-blooded nature, an enthusiast whose imagination overpowered

his judgment, Uriel da Costa had formed for himself an ideal of Judaism

which he expected to meet with in Amsterdam, but which had never been

realized. He thought to see biblical conditions, supported by pure

Pentateuchal laws, realized in the young Amsterdam community, and to

find an elevation of mind which would at once clear up the puzzles that

the Catholic Church could not solve. What the Catholic confessors could

not offer, he thought that he would be able to obtain from the rabbis

of Amsterdam. Da Costa had built religious and dogmatic castles in the

air, and was annoyed not to meet with them in the world of reality. He

soon found that the religious life of the Amsterdam community and its

established laws did not agree with Mosaic or Pentateuchal precepts,

but were often opposed to them. As he had made great sacrifices for

his convictions, he thought that he had the right to express his

opinion freely, and point to the gap which existed between biblical and

Rabbinical Judaism. He was deeply wounded, embittered, and irritated,

and allowed himself to be completely overpowered by his feelings. He

did not stop at mere words, but regulated his conduct accordingly,

openly disregarded religious usages, and thought that in opposing the

ordinances of the "Pharisees" (as, in the language of the Church,

he called the rabbis), he was recommending himself to the favor of

God. He thereby brought upon himself unpleasantnesses destined to end

tragically. Were the Amsterdam Jews, who had suffered so much for

their religion, quietly to see one of their members openly assail and

ridicule Judaism, become so dear to them? Those born and brought up in

the land of the Inquisition had no idea of toleration and indulgence

for the conviction of others. The rabbis, perhaps Isaac Uziel and

Joseph Pardo, threatened Da Costa with excommunication, _i. e._,

expulsion from the religious community and severance of all relations

with it, if he persisted in transgressing the religious ordinances of

Judaism. This opposition only served to increase Da Costa's passion;

he was ill-content to have purchased new fetters by the sacrifices

he had made. He continued to disregard the laws in force, and was

eventually excommunicated. Uriel's relatives, who had more easily

adapted themselves to the new faith, avoided him, and spoke not a

word to him. Thus Da Costa stood alone in the midst of a great city.

Separated from his race, friends, and relatives, a stranger amongst

the Christian inhabitants of Amsterdam, whose language he had not yet

learnt, and thrown upon himself, he fell more and more into subtle

speculation. Acting under excessive irritation, he resolved to publish

a work hostile to the Judaism of the day, and bring out particularly

the glaring contrast between it and the Bible. As irrefragable proof,

he intended to emphasize that the former recognized only bodily

punishments and rewards, and taught nothing as to the immortality of

the soul. But he discovered that the Bible itself observes silence

about a purely spiritual future life, and does not bring within the

circle of religion the idea of a soul separated from the body. In

short, his investigations led him away not only from Catholicism and

Rabbinical Judaism, but from the Bible itself. It is not known how it

was circulated that the excommunicated Da Costa intended to give public

offense, but he was anticipated. Samuel da Silva, a Jewish physician,

in 1623 published a work in the Portuguese language, entitled "A

Treatise on the Immortality of the Soul, in order to confute the

Ignorance of a certain Opponent, who in Delusion affirms many Errors."

In the course of the work the author plainly named Uriel, and described

him as "blind and incapable." Da Costa thought his opponents,

especially the rabbis, had hired Da Silva's pen to attack him. Hence

he hastened to publish his work, also in Portuguese (1624-1625),

entitled "An Examination of the Pharisaic Traditions, compared with

the written Laws, and Reply to the Slanderer Samuel da Silva." The

fact of his calling his opponent a slanderer shows his confusion, for

he actually asserted what Da Silva had reproached him with, that the

soul is not immortal. As he now had unequivocally declared his breach

with Judaism, he had to take the consequences. Before, he had been

openly scorned by young people in the street as an excommunicant, a

heretic, an Epicurean (in the Talmudical sense); he had been pelted

with stones, disturbed and annoyed in his own house (as he thought, at

the instigation of the rabbis). Now, after the appearance of his work,

the official representatives of the Amsterdam community complained to

the magistrates that by denying the immortality of the soul, he had

attacked not only the teaching of Judaism, but also of Christianity,

and had published errors. Da Costa was arrested, kept for several

days in prison, at last fined 300 gulden, and his work condemned to

the flames. The freest state of that time believed that it had the

right to keep watch over and limit freedom of thought and writing;

its distinction was merely that it kindled no funeral piles for human

beings. Da Costa's brethren in race could not have persecuted him very

severely, for he was able to bear excommunication during the long space

of fifteen years. Only his isolation was a heavy burden; he could not

endure to be avoided by his family as one infected with the plague.

Da Costa was not a strong-minded man, a thinker of the first order,

who could live happily in his world of ideas as in boundless space,

unconcerned about the outer world, and glad of his solitary freedom;

he could not do without the world. He had invested his capital with

one of his brothers, and he thought that it would be endangered if he

continued the war against the community. He thought of taking a wife,

which was impossible so long as he was excommunicated. Hence he at

last yielded to the urgency of his relatives to become reconciled with

the community. He was willing, as he said, "to be an ape among apes."

He confessed Judaism with his lips at the very time when he had in his

heart thoroughly fallen away from it.

Da Costa, in his philosophical inquiries, had come upon a new

discovery. Judaism, even in its pure biblical form, could not have been

of divine origin, because it contradicts nature in many points, and

God, the Creator of nature, can not contradict Himself in revelation.

He cannot command a principle in the Law, if He has implanted in nature

an opposing principle. This was the first step to the deistic tendency

then appearing in France and the Netherlands, which acknowledged God

only in nature, not in the moral law, and in religious and political

development. Da Costa's theory supposed a religion of nature inborn

in man, which produced and built up the moral law, and culminated in

the love of members of a family to one another. The best in Judaism

and other revealed religions is borrowed from the religion of nature.

The latter knows only love and union; the others, on the contrary, arm

parents and children against one another on account of the faith. This

theory was the suggestion of his bitterness, because his relatives

avoided him, and showed him but little consideration. Da Costa appears

to have put forward as the religion of nature what the Talmud calls the

Noachian commandments.

In spite of his complete falling away from Judaism, he resolved, as he

himself states, on the intervention of his nephew, and after passing

fifteen years in excommunication (about 1618-1633), to alter his course

of life and actions, make a confession, or rather put his signature to

such a document, an act of what he himself describes as thoroughgoing

hypocrisy, designed to purchase repose and comfort, at the cost of

conviction. But his passionate nature robbed him of both. He could not

impose renunciation upon himself to conform to the religious usages

of Judaism, but transgressed them immediately after his penitent

confession. He was detected by one of his relatives, and they all,

especially the nephew who had brought about the reconciliation, were

so embittered that they persecuted him even more relentlessly than

those less nearly connected with him. They again renounced intercourse

with him, prevented his marriage, and are said to have injured him in

his property. Through his passionate hatred of Judaism, which he had

confessed with his lips, he committed an act of folly which exposed his

true sentiments. Two Christians, an Italian and a Spaniard, had come

from London to Amsterdam to attach themselves to Judaism. When they

consulted Uriel da Costa on the subject, he gave a frightful picture of

the Jewish form of religion, warned them against laying a heavy yoke on

their necks, and advised them to continue in their own faith. Contrary

to promise, the two Christians betrayed Da Costa's remarks on Judaism

to the leaders of the community. The war between them and him broke out

afresh. The rabbis summoned him a second time before their tribunal,

set before him his religious transgressions, and declared that he could

escape a second severe excommunication only by submitting to a solemn

penance in public. More from a sense of honor than from conviction he

refused this penance, and so was a second time laid under the ban, much

more severe than the first, in which condition he continued for seven

years. During this time he was treated by the members of the community

with contempt, and even spat upon. His brothers and nephews behaved

with the greatest severity towards him, because they thought by that

means to force him to repentance. They reckoned on his helplessness and

weakness, and they did not reckon amiss.

Da Costa meanwhile had reached middle age, had been made submissive

by conflicts and excitement, and longed for repose. By process of

law, which he had instituted against the Amsterdam authorities, he

could obtain nothing, because he could not put his complaints into a

tangible form; he consented, therefore, to everything demanded for

his humiliation. His public penance was to be very severe. There was

no definite prescription on the subject in the religious Code, which,

in fact, is opposed in spirit to public penance; the sinner is not

to confess aloud his transgressions against religion, but in silence

to God. Judaism, from its origin, objected to confession and the

mechanical avowal of sins. For this reason it remained for the college

of rabbis to appoint a form of penance. The Amsterdam rabbis and the

communal council, consisting of Marranos, adopted as a model the gloomy

form of the tribunal of the Inquisition.

As soon as Da Costa had consented to his humiliation, he was led into

one of the synagogues, which was full of men and women. There was to

be a sort of auto-da-fé, and the greatest possible publicity was given

to his penance because the scandal had been public. He had to ascend

a stage and read out his confession of sins: that he had desecrated

the Sabbath, violated the dietary laws, denied articles of faith, and

advised persons not to adopt Judaism. He solemnly declared that he

resolved to be no longer guilty of such offenses, but to live as a

true Jew. On a whisper from the first rabbi, probably Saul Morteira,

he went to a corner of the synagogue, stripped as far as the girdle,

and received thirty-nine stripes with a scourge. Then he was obliged

to sit on the ground, after which the ban was removed. Not yet having

satisfied the authorities, he had to stretch himself out on the

threshold of the synagogue, that those present might step over him.

It was certainly an excessive penance which was imposed upon him,

not from a desire of persecution or vengeance, but from religious

scrupulousness and mimicry of Catholic forms. No wonder that the

disgrace and humiliation deeply wounded Da Costa, who had consented

to the punishment, not from inward repentance, but from exhaustion.

The public disgrace had shaken his whole being, and suggested

thoughts of revenge. Instead of pitying the rabbis as the creatures

of historical conditions, he hated them with a glowing feeling of

revenge as the refuse of mankind, and as if they thought of nothing

but deception, lying, and wickedness. His wounded sense of honor and

heated imagination saw in the Jews of the Amsterdam community, perhaps

in all the Jews on the earth's surface, his personal, venomous foes,

and in Judaism an institution to stir up men to hatred and persecution.

Thinking that he was surrounded by bitter enemies, and feeling too

weak for a fresh conflict, he resolved to die, but at the same time to

take vengeance on his chief persecutor, his brother (or cousin). To

excite the sympathy of his contemporaries and posterity, he wrote his

autobiography and confession, which, however, contain no new thoughts,

only bitterness and furious attacks against the Jews, intermingled with

fresh aspersions of them in the eyes of Christians: that even at this

time they would have crucified Jesus, and that the state ought not to

grant them freedom of religious profession. This document, drawn up

amidst preparations for death, breathed nothing but revenge against his

enemies. After he had finished his impassioned testament, he loaded

two pistols, and fired one at his relative, who was passing his house.

He missed his aim, so he shut the door of his room, and killed himself

with the other weapon (April, 1640).

On opening his residence after the report of the shot, they found on

the table his autobiography, "An Example of Human Life," in which he

brought Jews and Judaism to the bar, and with pathetic sentences

described them as his excited imagination in the last hour suggested.

By this act and legacy Da Costa showed that he suffered himself to

be overpowered by his feelings rather than guided by reason. He was

neither a thinker nor a wise man, nor was his a manly character. As his

system of thought was not well balanced, leading him to oppose what

existed as false and bad, because it was in his way, he left no lasting

impression. His Jewish contemporaries persisted in stubborn silence

about him, as if they wished his memory to fall into oblivion. He acted

like a boy who breaks the windows in an old decaying building, and thus

creates a draught.

The second seditious thinker of this time, Leo (Judah) ben Isaac

Modena (born 1571, died 1649), was of another stamp, and was reared

in different surroundings. Leo Modena was descended from a cultivated

family which migrated to Modena, in Italy, on the expulsion of the Jews

from France, and whose ancestors, from lack of intellectual clearness,

despite their education, fostered every kind of superstition and

fanciful idea.

Leo Modena possessed this family peculiarity in a high degree. He

was a marvelous child. In his third year he could read a portion

from the prophets; in his tenth, he delivered a sort of sermon; in

his thirteenth, he wrote a clever dialogue on the question of the

lawfulness of playing with cards and dice, and composed an elegy on

the death of the teacher of his youth, Moses Basula, in Hebrew and

Italian verses having the same sound--a mere trifle, to be sure,

but which at a riper age pleased him so well that he had it printed.

But the marvelous child did not develop into a marvelous man, into

a personage of prominence or distinction. Modena became, however,

the possessor of astonishingly varied knowledge. As he pursued all

sorts of occupations to support himself, viz., those of preacher,

teacher of Jews and Christians, reader of prayers, interpreter,

writer, proof-reader, book-seller, broker, merchant, rabbi, musician,

match-maker, and manufacturer of amulets, without ever attaining to a

fixed position, so he studied many departments of knowledge without

specially distinguishing himself in any. He grasped the whole of

biblical, Talmudic, and Rabbinic literature, was well read in Christian

theological works, understood something of philosophy and physics,

was able to write Hebrew and Italian verses--in short, he had read

everything accessible through the medium of three languages, Hebrew,

Latin, and Italian. He remembered what he read, for he possessed an

excellent memory, invented a method of sharpening it still more, and

wrote a book on this subject. But Leo Modena had no delight either

in knowledge or poetry; neither had value for him except so far as

they brought bread. He preached, wrote books and verses, translated

and commented, all to earn money, which he wasted in card-playing,

a passion which he theoretically considered most culpable, but in

practice could not overcome. At the age of sixty he acquired property,

but lost it more quickly than he had acquired it, squandering 100

ducats in scarcely a month, and twice as much in the following year.

Knowledge had not enlightened and elevated him, had had no influence

on his principles. Leo Modena possessed neither genius nor character.

Dissatisfied with himself and his lot, in constant disquiet on account

of his fondness for gaming, and battling with need, he became a prey

to doubt. Religion had no power over his heart; he preached to others,

but not to himself. Unbelief and superstition waged continual war

within him. He envied naïve believers, who, in their simplicity, are

undisturbed by doubt, expect, and, as Leo added, obtain happiness from

scrupulously observing the ceremonies. Inquirers, on the other hand,

are obliged to struggle for their faith and the happiness dependent

upon it, and are tortured incessantly by pangs of doubt. He had no real

earnestness nor true conviction, or rather, according to his humor and

mood, he had a different one every day, without being a hypocrite.

Hence he could say of himself, "I do not belong to the class of painted

people, my outward conduct always corresponds with my feelings."

Leo Modena was sincere at each moment. On one day he broke a lance

for the Talmud and Rabbinical Judaism, on the next, condemned them

utterly. He disapproved of gaming, and grieved that the stars had given

him this unfortunate propensity, for he believed also in astrology;

yet he prepared a Talmudical decision defending it. When the Venetian

college of rabbis pronounced the ban on cards and dice, he pointed out

that gaming was permissible by Rabbinical principles, and that the ban

had no justification. His disciple, Joseph Chamiz, a physician and

mystic, once asked him his opinion on the Kabbalistic transmigration

of souls. Modena replied that as a rule he would profess belief in

the doctrine even though convinced of its folly, in order not to be

pronounced a heretic and a fool, but to him he was willing to express

his sincere and true views. Thereupon Leo Modena prepared a work to

expose the absurdity and inconsistency with Judaism of the belief in

transmigration of souls. But so feebly was this conviction rooted in

his nature that, having had an extraordinary experience, he again, at

least for a time, believed in the transmigration of souls, a favorite

theory of the Kabbala.

The Ghetto of Venice must have been a totally different place from that

of Frankfort, or Prague, or from the Polish-Jewish quarters, since it

was possible for men like Leo Modena, with his peculiar principles,

and Simone Luzzatto, as little of a genuine rabbi, to be members of

the rabbinate. In the largest Italian community next to that of Rome,

consisting of 6,000 souls, there were cultivated Jews interested in

Italian and general European culture, and enjoying not only social,

but also literary intercourse with Christian society. The walls of

the Ghetto formed no partition between the Jewish and the Christian

population. At this time, in the age of Shakespeare, there was no

Shylock, certainly not in Venice, who would have stipulated as payment

for his loan a pound of flesh from his Christian debtor. The people

properly so called, workmen, sailors, and porters, precisely in Venice,

were milder and more friendly towards Jews than in other Christian

cities. Jewish manufacturers employed 4,000 Christian workmen in the

lagoon city, so that their existence depended on their Jewish employers

alone. At the time of a devastating pestilence, when, even in this well

policed city, the reins of government became slacker and looser, and

threatened to fall from the hands of those in power, Jewish capitalists

voluntarily offered their money to the state to prevent embarrassment.

There were not a few among them who vied with the cultivated classes

among the Christians in the elegant use of the Italian language in

speaking and writing, and in making good verses. Besides the two

rabbis, Leo Modena and Simone Luzzatto, two Jewish poetesses, Deborah

Ascarelli and Sarah Copia Sullam, are illustrations thereof. The first,

the wife of Joseph Ascarelli, a respected Venetian, translated Hebrew

hymns into elegant Italian strophes, and also composed original verses.

A Jewish-Italian poet addressed her in verses thus: "Others may sing of

great trophies, thou glorifiest thy people."

The graceful and spiritual Sarah Copia (born about 1600, died 1641)

excited a certain amount of attention in her time. She was an original

poetess and thinker, and her gifts, as well as her grace, brought

her temptations and dangers. The only child of a wealthy father,

Simon Copia (Coppio) in Venice, who loved her tenderly, she yielded

to her inclination for instruction, and devoted herself to science

and literature. To this inclination she remained true even after her

marriage with Jacob Sullam. Sarah Copia Sullam surpassed her sex and

even men of her age in knowledge. She delighted in beauty, and breathed

out her inspirations in rhythmic, elegant verses. Young, attractive,

with a noble heart and a penetrating understanding, striving after high

ideals, and a favorite of the muses, Sarah Sullam fascinated the old as

well as the young. Her musical, well-trained voice excited admiration.

When an elderly Italian priest, Ansaldo Ceba, at Genoa, published an

heroic poem in Italian strophes, of which the scriptural Esther was the

heroine, Sarah was so delighted, that she addressed an enthusiastic

anonymous letter full of praise to the author (1618). It pleased her

to see a Jewish heroine, her ideal, celebrated in verses, and the

attention of the cultivated public directed to Jewish antiquity. She

hoped that thereby the prejudice against the Jews of the day would

vanish. Sarah did not conceal from the poet that she always carried

his poetical creations about with her, and at night put his book under

her pillow. Instead of finding satisfaction in the sincere homage of

a pure woman's soul, Ceba, in his zeal for conversion, thought only

of bringing her over to Christianity. When he heard Sarah's beauty

extolled by the servant whom he sent with presents and verses, love for

her awoke in him. This was increased by her sending him her portrait,

accompanied by enthusiastic verses in the exaggerated style of that

time, in which she said: "I carry my idol in my heart, and I wish

everyone to worship him." But the beautiful Venetian Jewess did not

allow herself to be entrapped. She held firmly to her Jewish beliefs,

and unfolded to her priestly friend the reasons that induced her

to prefer Judaism. In vain did Ceba, by tenderness, reproofs, and

sentimental languishing, with intimations of his speedy end, and his

longing to be united with her in heaven, endeavor to make her waver in

her conviction. When he begged permission to pray for her salvation,

she granted his request on condition that she might pray for his

conversion to Judaism.

Her exceptional position as poetess, and her connection with Christians

of high rank, brought her renown, not unattended by annoyances.

Slanderous fellow-believers spread the report, that she esteemed the

principles of Judaism but lightly, and did not fully believe in their

divinity. An unprincipled Christian priest, Balthasar Bonifaccio,

who later occupied the position of bishop, published a work accusing

the Jewess Sarah Sullam of denying the immortality of the soul.

Such a charge might in Catholic Venice have had other effects than

that against Uriel da Costa in free-thinking, Protestant Amsterdam.

Not merely fine and imprisonment might have been inflicted, but the

Inquisition might have sentenced her to the dungeon, to torture, and

perhaps even the stake. Hardly recovered from illness, she wrote (1621)

a manifesto on the immortality of the soul, full of ripe dialectics,

noble courage, and crushing force, against her slanderous accuser. The

dedication to her deceased father is touching, and still more touching

is her fervent psalm-like prayer in melodious Italian verses. The

consciousness that she, a woman and Jewess, could not rely on her own

strength, but only on help from above, spreads a halo about her memory.

The end of this affair is not known. Ceba's epic "Esther" probably

induced Leo Modena to translate Solomon Usque's tragedy on the same

subject from Spanish into Italian verse; he dedicated it to Sarah

Copia, whose epitaph he composed in melodious Hebrew verses.

Leo Modena also had frequent intercourse with Christians. His peculiar

nature, his communicative disposition, and great learning, as also

his wit and his fondness for gaming, opened the doors of Christian

circles to the volatile rabbi. Christian disciples sat at his feet.

The French bishop Jacob Plantavicius, and the half-crazed Christian

Kabbalist Jacob Gaffarelli, were his pupils. Nobles and learned men

corresponded with him, and permitted him to inscribe his works to them

with flattering dedications. Leo Modena held in Italy nearly the same

position as Manasseh ben Israel in Holland. In the conversation of

serious men and in the merry circle of gamesters, he often heard the

ceremonies of Judaism ridiculed as childish nonsense (Lex Judæorum

lex puerorum). At first he defended his religion, but gradually was

forced to admit one thing and another in Judaism to be defective and

ridiculous; he was ashamed to be so thoroughly a Jew as to justify

all consequences. His necessities led him, on pressure from Christian

friends, to render single portions, and at last the whole, of the

Jewish code accessible to the Christian public in the Italian language.

An English lord paid him for the work, with the intention of giving it

to King James I, who made pretensions to extensive learning. Afterwards

his Christian disciple Gaffarelli had this work, entitled "The Hebrew

Rites," printed in Paris, and dedicated it to the French ambassador

at Venice. In this work, eagerly read by Christians, Leo Modena, like

Ham, uncovered his father's nakedness, exposed the inner sanctuary of

the Jews to prying and mocking eyes. To the uninitiated, that which

within the Jewish circle was a matter for reverence could not but

appear petty, silly, and absurd. Leo Modena explained what ceremonies

and statutes Jews employ in connection with their dwellings, clothing,

household furniture, up-rising and lying down, physical functions, and

in the synagogues and schools. Involuntarily the author associated

himself with the despisers of Judaism, which he as rabbi had practiced

and taught. He showed that he was conscious of this:

"While writing I in fact forgot that I am a Jew, and considered

myself a simple, impartial narrator. However, I do not deny

that I have taken pains to avoid ridicule on account of the

numerous ceremonies, but I had no intention to defend and

palliate, because I wished only to communicate, not convince."

However, it would be an error to infer from this that Leo Modena had at

heart completely broken with Rabbinical Judaism. He was, as has been

stated, not a man of firm and lasting convictions. Almost at the same

time when he exposed the rites of Judaism to the Christian public, he

composed a defense of them and oral teaching in general against attacks

from the Jewish side. A Hamburg Jew of Marrano descent had raised

eleven points to show the falsehood of Talmudic tradition. Of these

arguments some are important, others frivolous. The Hamburg sceptic

laid chief stress on the point that Talmudic and Rabbinic ordinances

are additions to Pentateuchal Judaism, and the Pentateuch had expressly

forbidden additions of this sort. At the wish of certain Portuguese

Jews, Leo Modena confuted these objections, raised by a sciolist. His

confutation was a feeble performance, and contains nothing new. With

Leo Modena one never knew whether he was earnest in his belief or his

unbelief. As in youth he had brought forward reasons for and against

games of chance, had finally condemned them, and nevertheless freely

engaged in them, so he behaved with regard to Talmudical Judaism. He

attacked it, defended it, made it appear ridiculous, and yet practiced

it with a certain degree of honesty.

Some years after his vindication of Talmudical Judaism against the

Hamburg sceptic he composed the best work (1624) that issued from his

active pen. On the one side it was a weighty attack on Rabbinical

Judaism, such as had hardly been made even by Christians and Karaites,

on the other side, an impressive defense of it. He did not venture

to put his own name to the heavy charges against Judaism, but used a

fictitious name. The part which contains the attacks he called "The

Fool's Voice" (Kol Sachal), and the defense, "The Roaring of the Lion"

(Shaagath Aryeh). Leo Modena allotted to two characters his own duplex

nature, his varying convictions. He makes the opponent of Judaism

express himself with a boldness such as Uriel da Costa might have

envied. Not only did he undermine the Rabbinical Judaism of the Talmud,

but also biblical Judaism, the Sinaitic revelation, and the Torah. But

the blows which Leo Modena, under the name of Ibn-Raz of Alkala, in an

attack of unbelief, inflicted on oral teaching, or Talmudical Judaism,

were most telling.

He premises that no form of religion maintains itself in its original

state and purity according to the views of its founder. Judaism,

also, although the lawgiver expressly warned his followers against

adding anything, had many additions thrust upon it. Interpretation and

comment had altered many things in it. Ibn-Raz (or Leo Modena in his

unbelieving mood) examines with a critical eye Jacob Asheri's code, and

at each point marks the additions made by the rabbis to the original

code, and where they had weakened and distorted it. He goes so far as

to make proposals how to clear Judaism of excrescences, in order to

restore genuine, ancient, biblical, spiritual Judaism. This was the

first attempt at reform: a simplification of the prayers and synagogue

service, abolition of rites, omission of the second day of the

festivals, relaxation of Sabbath, festival, Passover, and even Day of

Atonement laws. Every one was to fast only according to his bodily and

spiritual powers. He wished to see the ritual for slaughtering animals

and the laws as to food set aside, or simplified. The prohibition to

drink wine with those of other creeds made Jews ridiculous, as also did

the strictness against alleged idolatry. All this, observed Ibn-Raz,

or Leo Modena, at the close, does not exhaust the subject; it is only

a specimen of the evil of Rabbinical Judaism. He knew well that he

would be pronounced a heretic, and persecuted on account of his frank

criticism, but if he could open the eyes of a single reader, he would

consider himself amply rewarded.

Had Leo Modena been in earnest with this bold view, which would have

revolutionized the Judaism of his day, had he uttered it to the world

with deep conviction, he would no doubt have produced great commotion

in Judaism. But criticism of the Talmud was only mental amusement for

him; he did not intend to engage in an actual conflict. He composed a

reply with as little sincerity, and let both attack and defense slumber

among his papers.

Leo Modena was more in earnest with the attack on the Kabbala, which

had become burdensome and repulsive to him. He felt impelled to

discharge destructive arrows against it, and this he did with masterly

skill. He called the anti-Kabbalistic work, which he dedicated to

his disciple Joseph Chamiz, a Luryan enthusiast, "The Roaring Lion"

(Ari Noham). From many sides he threw light on the deceptions, the

absurdity, and the falsehood of the Kabbala and its fundamental

source, the Zohar. Neither this work nor his attacks on Talmudical

Judaism were published by him: the author was not anxious to labor

in either direction. To a late age he continued his irregular life,

without striving after real improvement. Leo Modena died, weary of the

conflict, not with gods (_i. e._, ideas) and men, but with himself, and

of the troubles which he had brought upon himself.

Apparently similar, yet differing fundamentally from him, was the

third burrower of this period: Joseph Solomon Delmedigo (born 1591,

died 1655). Scion of an old and noble family, in whose midst science

and the Talmud were cultivated, and great-grandson on the female side

of the clear thinker Elias del Medigo, he but slightly resembled the

other members of his house. His father, a rabbi in Candia, had not

only initiated him into Talmudic literature, but also made him learn

Greek. Later Delmedigo acquired the literary languages of the time,

Italian and Spanish in addition to Latin. The knowledge of languages,

however, was only a means to an end. At the University of Padua he

obtained his scientific education; he showed decided inclination for

mathematics and astronomy, and could boast of having as his tutor the

great Galileo, the discoverer of the laws of the heavens, the martyr

to natural science. By him he was made acquainted with the Copernican

system of the sun and the planets. Neither Delmedigo nor any believing

Jew labored under the delusion that the stability of the sun and the

motion of the earth were in contradiction to the Bible, and therefore

heretical. Delmedigo also studied medicine, but only as a profession;

his favorite subject continued to be mathematics. He enriched his mind

with all the treasures of knowledge, more varied even than that of Leo

Modena, to whom during his residence in Italy he clung as a disciple

to his master. In the circle of Jewish-Italian semi-freethinkers he

lost the simple faith which he had brought from home, and doubts as

to the truth of tradition stole upon him, but he was not sufficiently

animated by a desire for truth either to overcome these doubts and

become settled in the early belief to which he had been brought up, or

unsparingly to expose the false elements in Jewish tradition. Joseph

Delmedigo was as little formed to be a martyr to his convictions as Leo

Modena, the latter by reason of fickleness, the former, of insincerity.

With doubt in his heart he returned to his home in Candia, and gave

offense by his free mode of thought, especially by his preference for

secular knowledge. He made enemies, who are said to have persecuted

him, and was obliged to leave his native land. Then began a migratory

life, which drove him from city to city, like his model Ibn-Ezra.

Like him, he made friends with the Karaites wherever he met them,

and they thronged to his presence. At Cairo Delmedigo celebrated a

complete triumph with his mathematical knowledge, when an old Mahometan

teacher of mathematics, Ali Ibn-Rahmadan, challenged him, a youth, to

a public combat, in which Ali was beaten. The victorious combatant was

magnanimous enough to show honor to Ali before the world. Instead of

betaking himself to Palestine as he had intended, Delmedigo traveled

to Constantinople; here also he attached himself to the circle of the

Karaites, and at last passed through Wallachia and Moldavia to Poland.

There, mathematics procuring him no bread, he practiced medicine, of

which, however, he had learnt more from books than by the bedside of

patients. In Poland he passed for a great physician, and was taken

into the service of Prince Radziwill, in Wilna (about 1619-1620).

Here, through the excessive attention given to the Talmud, general

culture was forsaken, but youths and men eager for learning, especially

Karaites, thronged to Delmedigo to slake their thirst for knowledge. A

half-crazed Karaite, Serach ben Nathan of Trok, who had an inclination

to Rabbinical Judaism, in order to show his extensive knowledge, with

mock humility laid before him a number of important questions, which

Delmedigo was to answer offhand, and sent him a sable fur for the

Polish winter.

Delmedigo found it to his advantage, in order to give himself the

appearance of a distinguished character in Poland, to shroud himself

in silence and seclusion. He at first answered Serach's questions

not personally, but through one of his companions, an assistant and

follower, Moses Metz. This man described his teacher as a choice

intellect, a demi-god, who carried in his brain all human and divine

knowledge. He sketched his appearance and character, his occupation and

behavior, regulated, as he said, by higher wisdom, gave information

about his descent from a learned and distinguished family on his

father's and his mother's side, and, as his teacher's mouth-piece,

imposed upon the credulous Karaite by saying that he had composed works

on all branches of knowledge, at which the world would be astonished,

if they came to light. Metz also communicated to Serach some of his

teacher's theories in mathematics, religion, and philosophy, and thus

still more confused Serach's mind. In his communications on Judaism,

which Delmedigo either made himself or through Moses Metz, he was

very cautious; here and there, it is true, he allowed a suggestion of

unbelief to glimmer through, but quickly covered it over with a haze of

orthodoxy. Only where he could do so without danger Delmedigo expressed

his real opinion.

When he at last sent the Karaite an answer to a letter with his own

hand (about 1621), he did not conceal his true views, but declared

his preference for Karaism and its ancient teachers, loaded them

undeservedly with praise, exalted science, and ridiculed the delusions

of the Kabbala and its adherents. In the same letter to Serach,

Delmedigo indulged in scoffs against the Talmud, and thought the

Karaites fortunate that they were able to dispense with it. He had

nothing to fear when he unburdened his heart before his Karaite admirer.

Delmedigo does not seem, on the whole, to have been at ease in Poland.

He could not carouse with the nobles whom he attended professionally

for fear of the Jews, and it was not possible to earn money in so

poor a country. So he betook himself by way of Dantzic to Hamburg,

where a Portuguese community had been lately permitted to settle. His

knowledge of medicine seems to have met with little esteem in the

city on the Elbe. What was his skill in comparison with that of the

De Castros, father and son? He was compelled, in order to subsist, to

undertake a certain amount of rabbinical duty, if only as preacher. For

the sake of bread he had to play the hypocrite, and speak in favor of

Rabbinical Judaism. Nay, in order to dissipate the rumor from Poland,

which represented him as a heretic, he was not ashamed to praise the

Kabbala, which he had shortly before condemned, as the highest wisdom,

before which philosophy and all sciences must be dumb. For this

purpose he prepared his defense of the secret doctrine, in refutation

of the crushing arguments against it by one of his ancestors, Elias

Del Medigo. His work was of the kind to throw dust in the eyes of the

ignorant multitude; it displayed a smattering of learning on all sorts

of subjects, but no trace of logic. He was too clever to maintain

the sheepish style of dull, stupid credulity, and could not refrain

from satire. He defended the genuineness of the Zohar as an ancient

work by Simon bar Yochaï, or at least by his school. He argued that

one must not be shocked by its many incongruities and absurdities;

the Talmud also contains not a few, and is yet a sacred book. To save

his reputation with the more intelligent, Delmedigo intimated that he

had defended the Kabbala only from necessity. We must not, he says,

superficially judge the character of an author by his words. He, for

instance, was writing this defense of the Kabbala at the desire of a

patron of high position, who was enamored of it. Should this friend

come to be of another mind, and require an attack upon the Kabbala, he

would not refuse him. In conclusion, he observes that philosophical

students would no doubt ridicule him for having turned his back on

wisdom, and betaken himself to folly; but he would rather be called a

fool all his life than for a single hour transgress against piety.

This work, commenced in Hamburg, Delmedigo could not finish there.

A pestilence broke out, and drove him, physician though he was, to

Glückstadt. In this small community, where, as he said, there was

neither town (Stadt) nor luck (Glück), he could find no means of

subsistence, and he traveled on to Amsterdam about 1629. He could not

attempt to practice medicine in a city where physicians lived of even

higher eminence than at Hamburg, and so was obliged a second time to

apply himself to the functions of rabbi. To show his importance, he

printed his scientific replies to the questions of his Polish admirers,

with the fulsome eulogies, clouds of incense, and foolish homage which

the young Karaite Serach had offered him. It is a work of truly Polish

disorder, in which mathematical theorems and scientific problems are

discussed by the side of philosophical and theological questions, in

a confused way. Delmedigo took care not to print his attacks upon

the Kabbala and the Talmud, and his preference for the Karaites--in

short, all that he had written to please the rich Serach. Instead

of publishing an encyclopædic work which he boastfully said he had

composed in his earliest youth, and which embraced all sciences and

solved all questions, he produced a mere medley.

The Amsterdam community was then full of suspicion against philosophy

and culture owing to the reckless behavior of Da Costa, and therefore

Delmedigo thought it advisable to ward off every suspicion of unbelief,

and get a reputation for strictest orthodoxy. This transparent

hypocrisy did not answer well. He was, it is true, appointed preacher,

and partially rabbi, in or near Amsterdam, but he could remain in

Holland only a few years. Poor and unstable as he was, he went

with his wife to Frankfort-on-the-Main about 1630 to seek means of

subsistence. But here, in a German community, where Rabbinical learning

was diffused, he could not obtain a rabbinical office; but he could

turn his medical knowledge, scanty as it was, to account. As he felt

no vocation for the office of rabbi, nor for medical practice, it was

a matter of indifference if he changed the preacher's gown for the

doctor's mantle. He was engaged, under irksome conditions, as communal

doctor (February 14, 1631). How long he remained at Frankfort is not

known; his position cannot have been favorable, for he removed to

Prague (about 1648-1650), and in this most neglected community he

settled. Later (1652) he was at Worms, probably only temporarily, and

ended his life, which had promised so much, and realized so little, at

Prague. Nor did he publish any part of his great work, which he had

announced with so much pomposity.

In a measure Simone (Simcha) Luzzatto (born about 1590, died 1663)

may be reckoned among the sceptics of this time. He was, at the same

time as Leo Modena, rabbi in Venice. Luzzatto was not an eminent

personage; but he had more solidity than his colleague Modena, or than

Delmedigo. By the latter, who knew him personally, he was praised as

a distinguished mathematician. He was also well read in ancient and

modern literature. His uprightness and love of truth, which he never

belied, distinguished him more than his knowledge and learning. A

parable which Luzzatto wrote in Italian in his youth shows his views,

as also his maturity of thought, and that he had reflected early on

the relation of faith to science. He puts his thoughts into the mouth

of Socrates, the father of Greek wisdom. At Delphi an academy had been

formed to rectify the errors of human knowledge. Reason immediately

presented a petition from the dungeon, where she had been so long

kept by orthodox authority, to be set at liberty. Although the chief

representatives of knowledge, Pythagoras and Aristotle, spoke against

this request, and uttered a warning against her liberation, because,

when free, she would produce and spread abroad most frightful errors,

yet the academy set her at liberty; for by that means alone could

knowledge be promoted. But the newly liberated minds caused great

mischief; and the academicians were at a loss what to do. Then Socrates

rose, and in a long speech explained that reason and authority, if

allowed to reign alone, would produce only errors and mischief; but if

mutually limited, reason by revelation, and revelation by reason, they

mingle in the right proportion, and produce beautiful harmony, whereby

man may attain his goal here below and hereafter. This thought, that

reason and faith must regulate and keep watch over each other, which,

in Maimuni's time had passed into a commonplace, was at this period,

under the rule of Lurya's Kabbala, considered in Jewish circles a bold

innovation.

Simone Luzzatto did not suffer himself to be ensnared by Kabbalistic

delusions; he did not cast reason behind him; he was a believer, but

withal sober-minded. He did not share the delusion of Manasseh ben

Israel and others that the lost tribes of Israel were existing in

some part of the world enjoying independence as a military power.

With sober Jewish inquirers of former times, he assumed that Daniel's

revelation does not point to a future Messiah, but only reflects

historical events. He composed a work on the manners and beliefs of the

Jews, which he proposed to exhibit "faithfully to truth, without zeal

and passion." It was probably designed to form a counterpart to Leo

Modena's representation, which cast a shadow on Judaism.

Luzzatto's defense of Judaism and the Jews, under the title "A Treatise

on the Position of the Hebrews," is masterly. It speaks eloquently

for his practical, sober sense, for his love of truth, his attachment

to Judaism, and his solid knowledge. He did not wish to dedicate it to

any individual patron out of flattery, but to the friends of truth in

general. He conjured these friends not to esteem the remnant of the

ancient Hebrew nation, even if disfigured by sufferings, and saddened

by long oppression, more lightly than a mutilated work of art by

Phidias or Lysippus, since all men were agreed that this nation was

once animated and led by the greatest of Masters. It is astonishing

what thorough knowledge the rabbi had of the commerce of that time,

and the influence upon it of the political position of European and

neighboring Asiatic states. The object of his defense was primarily to

disarm the ill-will of certain Venetian patricians against the Jews in

that strictly governed state. The common people had little antipathy

to the Jews; they lived to some extent on them. But among those who

had a share in the government there were fanatical religious zealots

and envious opponents, who advocated further restrictions, or even

banishment. It did not suit them that the Venetian Jews, who, shut

up in the Ghetto, possessed neither land nor the right to carry on a

handicraft, competed with them in finance and trade. The commercial

city of Venice, far surpassed by the new naval powers, Holland and

England, which had gradually obtained control of the trade with the

Levant, saw many of its great houses of business in splendid misery,

while new Jewish capitalists stepped into their place, and seized the

Levantine business. With artful turns and delicate hints, Luzzatto gave

the politicians of Venice to understand that exhaustion was hastening

the downfall of the republic. The prosperous cared only to keep what

they had acquired and for enjoyment, and former Venetian commerce

seemed to be falling into the hands of foreigners. Hence the Jews

had become a blessing to the state. It was more advisable to leave

its extensive trade, especially that of the East, to native Jews, and

to protect them, than to see it diverted to neighboring towns, or

to strangers, who formed a state within the state, were not always

obedient to the laws, and gradually carried the ready money out of the

country. Luzzatto calculated from statistics that the Jews contributed

more than 250,000 ducats to the republic every year, that they gave

bread to 4,000 workpeople, supplied home manufactures at a cheap rate,

and obtained goods from distant countries. It was reserved for a rabbi

to bring this political-economical consideration, of vital importance

for the island republic, to the notice of wise councilors. Luzzatto

also called attention to the important advantage which the capital

of the Jews had recently been, when, during the pestilence and the

dissolution of political government, the Jews had spontaneously offered

money to the state to prevent embarrassment.

Luzzatto also defended the Jews against attacks on the religious side,

but on this point his exposition is not original. If he brought out

the bright traits of his Jewish contemporaries, he by no means passed

over their dark ones in silence, and that redounds to his credit.

Luzzatto depicted them in the following manner. However different may

be the manner of Venetian Jews from their brethren in Constantinople,

Damascus, Germany, or Poland, they all have something in common:--

"It is a nation of timid and unmanly disposition, at present

incapable of political government, occupied only with its

separate interests, and caring little about the public welfare.

The economy of the Jews borders on avarice; they are admirers

of antiquity, and have no eye for the present course of

things. Many are uneducated, without taste for learning or the

knowledge of languages, and, in following the laws of their

religion, they exaggerate to the most painful degree. But they

have also noteworthy peculiarities--firmness and endurance in

their religion, uniformity of doctrinal teaching in the long

course of more than fifteen centuries since the dispersion;

wonderful steadfastness, which leads them, if not to go into

dangers, yet to endure the severest suffering. They possess

knowledge of Holy Scripture and its exposition, gentleness and

hospitality to the members of their race--the Persian Jew

in some degree suffers the wrongs of the Italian--strict

abstinence from carnal offenses, extraordinary carefulness to

keep the family unspotted, and skill in managing difficult

matters. They are submissive and yielding to everyone, only not

to their brethren in religion. The failings of the Jews have

rather the character of cowardice and meanness than of cruelty

and atrocity."

What Luzzatto's position was with regard to the Talmud he did not

distinctly state, but only explained generally that there are three

or four classes of Jews: Talmudists or Rabbanites, who hold the oral

law of equal authority with the Bible; secondly, a philosophical and

cultured class; and, lastly, Kabbalists, and Karaites. Yet he intimated

that he held the Talmudical tradition to be true; whilst he considered

the Kabbala as not of Jewish, but of Platonic, Pythagorean, and Gnostic

origin. One of his disciples relates of him that he ridiculed the

Kabbalists, and thought their theory had no claim to the title of

tradition; it was wanting in the Holy Spirit.

These four thinkers, more or less dissatisfied with the Judaism

of the day, who were furnished with so much intellect, knowledge,

and eloquence, yet exerted very little influence over their Jewish

contemporaries, and thus did not break through the prevailing

obscurity in the smallest degree. Luzzatto wrote for only a limited

class of readers, and did not inflict, or wish to inflict, heavy

blows on Judaism. Uriel da Costa missed his mark on account of his

violent, impatient disposition; Leo Modena was himself too wavering,

driven hither and thither by the wind of conflicting opinions, to

acquire serious convictions and do battle for them. His attacks on

the weak side of Judaism, as has been stated, were made in private.

Joseph Delmedigo did more harm than good through his insincerity and

hypocrisy. Lacking character, he sank so low as to speak in favor

of the confused doctrines of the Kabbala, and by the weight of his

knowledge confirmed and increased the delusion of the multitude. But

from two other quarters, by two quite opposite characters, weighty

blows against Judaism were delivered, threatening completely to shatter

it. Reason incorporated, as it were, in one Jew, and unreason incarnate

in another, joined hands to treat Judaism as abolished and dissolved,

and, so to speak, to dethrone the God of Israel.

History of the Jews, Vol. 5 (of 6) · 第 3 / 21 章