Raphael Cohen, of Hamburg, a man of hasty temper, was the most zealous

agitator against the German version of the Bible. But as Mendelssohn

had relatives on his wife's side in this town, and also many admirers,

no action could be taken against him there or in Prague, where there

were freethinkers among the Jews. Fürth, therefore, was looked upon as

the fittest place whence the interdict (about June, 1779) against "the

German Pentateuch of Moses of Dessau" should be launched. All true to

Judaism were forbidden, under penalty of excommunication, to use this

translation.

Meanwhile the conflict between the old and the new Judaism was

conducted with calmness, and no violent symptoms showed themselves.

If Jacob Emden had been alive, the contest would have raged more

fiercely, and evoked more disturbance. Mendelssohn was too unselfish,

too gentle and philosophically tranquil to grow excited on hearing of

the ban against his undertaking, or to solicit the aid of his Christian

friends of high rank in silencing his opponents. He was prepared for

opposition. "As soon as I yielded to Dubno to have my translation

printed, I placed my soul in my hands, raised my eyes to the mountains,

and gave my back to the smiters." He regarded the play of human

passions and excessive ardor for religion as natural phenomena, which

demanded quiet observation. He did not wish to disturb this peaceful

observation by external influence, by threats and prohibitions, or by

the interference of the temporal power. "Perhaps a little excitement

serves the best interests of the enterprise nearest to my heart." He

suggested that if his version had been received without opposition, its

superfluity would have been proved. "The more the so-called wise men

of the day object to it, the more necessary it is. At first, I only

intended it for ordinary people, but now I find that it is much more

needful for rabbis." On the part of his opponents, however, no decided

efforts were made to suppress his translation, which appeared to them

so dangerous, or to denounce its author. Only in certain Polish towns,

such as Posen and Lissa, it was forbidden, and it is said to have been

publicly committed to the flames. Violent action was to be feared only

from the indiscreet, resolute Rabbi Raphael Cohen. He seems, however,

to have delayed action until the whole appeared, in order to obtain

proofs of deserved condemnation. Mendelssohn, therefore, sought help

to counteract his zeal. He prevailed upon his friend, Augustus von

Hennigs, Danish state councilor and brother-in-law of his intimate

friend, Eliza Reimarus, to try to induce the king of Denmark and

certain courtiers to become subscribers to the work; this would quench

the ardor of the zealot. Hennigs, a man of hasty action, forthwith

turned to the Danish minister, Von Guldberg, to fulfill the request

of Mendelssohn. To his astonishment and Mendelssohn's, he received

an insulting reply, to the effect that the king and his illustrious

brothers were prepared to subscribe if the minister could assure them

that the translation contained nothing against the inspiration and

truth of the Holy Scriptures, so that the Jews might not afterwards say

"that Moses Mendelssohn was an adherent to the (ill-famed) religion of

Berlin."

This "Berlin religion" was at the time the terror of the orthodox, both

in the Church and the Synagogue, and it cannot be said to have been

an idle fear. To keep at a distance this scoffing tendency against

religion, over-zealous rabbis tried to block every possible avenue of

approach to the houses of the Jews. Events of the immediate future

proved that the rabbis were not pursuing a phantom. Mendelssohn,

in his innocent piety, did not recognize the enemy, although it

passed to and fro through his own house. At length, the interdict

against Mendelssohn's translation of the Pentateuch was promulgated

by Raphael Cohen (July 17th); it was directed against all Jews who

read the new version. The author himself was not excommunicated,

either out of consideration for his prominence, or from weakness and

half-heartedness. However, before the blow fell, Mendelssohn had

warded off its consequences. He persuaded Von Hennigs that he need

have no scruples about obtaining the king's subscription for the

translation, and it was done. At the head of the list of contributors

stood the names of King Christian of Denmark and the Crown Prince. By

this means Raphael Cohen was effectually foiled in his endeavors to

condemn and destroy a work which he regarded as heretical.

His adversaries nevertheless struck Mendelssohn a blow, to hinder

the completion of the translation. They succeeded in alienating

Solomon Dubno, his right-hand man, which caused Mendelssohn serious

perplexity. That his work might not remain unfinished, he had to

undertake the commentary to the Pentateuch himself, but finding the

work beyond his strength he was obliged to seek for assistants. In

Wessely he found a co-operator of similar disposition to his own; but

he did not care to undertake the whole burden, and thus Mendelssohn

was compelled to entrust a portion to Herz Homberg, his son's tutor,

and to another Pole, Aaron Jaroslav. The former was not altogether a

congenial associate. He knew that Homberg in his heart was estranged

from Judaism, and that he would not execute the holy work according to

his method and as a sacred duty, as he himself felt it to be. But he

had no alternative. Owing to Homberg's participation in the work, the

translation, finished in 1783, was discredited by the orthodox; and

they desired to exclude it altogether from Jewish houses.

This severity roused opposition. Forbidden fruit tastes sweet. Youthful

students of the Talmud seized upon the German translation behind

the backs of their masters, who depreciated the new influence, and

in secret learned at once the most elementary and the most sublime

lessons--the German language and the philosophy of religion, Hebrew

grammar and poetry. A new view of the world was opened to them. The

Hebrew commentary served as a guide to a proper understanding of the

translation. As if touched by a magic wand, the Talmud students,

fossils of the musty schoolhouses, were transfigured, and upon the

wings of the intellect they soared above the gloomy present, and

took their flight heavenwards. An insatiable desire for knowledge

took possession of them; no territory, however dark, remained

inaccessible to them. The acumen, quick comprehension, and profound

penetrativeness, which these youths had acquired in their close study

of the Talmud, rendered it easy for them to take their position in

the newly-discovered world. Thousands of Talmud students from the

great schools of Hamburg, Prague, Nikolsburg, Frankfort-on-the-Main,

Fürth, and even from Poland, became little Mendelssohns; many of them

eloquent, profound thinkers. With them Judaism renewed its youth.

All who, towards the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the

nineteenth century, were in various ways public workers, had up to a

certain period in their lives been one-sided Talmudists, and needed the

inspiration of Mendelssohn's example to become exponents and promoters

of culture among Jews. In a very short time a numerous band of Jewish

authors arose, who wrote in a clear Hebrew or German style upon matters

of which shortly before they had had no knowledge. The Mendelssohn

translation speedily resulted in a veritable renaissance of the Jews.

They found their level in European civilization more quickly than the

Germans, and--what should not be overlooked--Talmudic schooling

had sharpened their intelligence. Mendelssohn's translation of the

Pentateuch, together with his paraphrase of the Psalms, has produced

more good than that of Luther, because instead of fossilizing, it

animated the mind. The inner freedom of the Jews, as has been said,

dates from this translation.

The beginning of the outward liberation of the Jews from the cruel

bondage of thousands of years was also connected with Mendelssohn's

name, and like his activity for their internal freedom was unconscious,

without violence or calculation. It seems a miracle, though no

marvelous occurrence accompanied it. It secured to the Jews two

advocates, than whom none more zealous, none warmer could be desired:

these were Lessing and Dohm.

Since the middle of the eighteenth century the attention of the

cultured world had been directed towards the Jews without any action

on their part. Montesquieu, the first to penetrate to the profound

depths of human laws and reveal their spirit, was also the first

to raise his weighty voice against the barbarous treatment of the

Jews. In his widely-read, suggestive work, "Spirit of the Laws,"

he had demonstrated, with convincing arguments, the harm that the

ill-treatment of the Jews had caused to states, and branded the

cruelty of the Inquisition with an ineradicable stigma. The piercing

cry of agony of a tortured Marrano at sight of a stake prepared for

a "Judaizing" maiden of eighteen years of age in Lisbon had aroused

Montesquieu, and the echo of his voice resounded throughout Europe.

"You Christians complain that the Emperor of China roasts all

Christians in his dominions over a slow fire. You behave much

worse towards Jews, because they do not believe as you do. If

any of our descendants should ever venture to say that the

nations of Europe were cultured, your example will be adduced

to prove that they were barbarians. The picture that they will

draw of you will certainly stain your age, and spread abroad

hatred of all your contemporaries."

Montesquieu had rediscovered the true idea of justice, which mankind

had lost. But how difficult was it to cause this idea to be fully

recognized with reference to Jews!

Two events had brought the Jews, their concerns, their present, and

their past before public notice: their demand for a legal standing

in England, and Voltaire's attacks upon them. In England, where a

century before they had, as it were, crept in, they formed a separate

community, especially in the capital, without being tolerated or

recognized by law. They were regarded as foreigners--as Spaniards,

Portuguese, Dutchmen, or Germans, and had to pay the alien duty.

However, the authorities, especially the judges, showed regard for

the Jewish belief; for instance, they did not summon Jewish witnesses

on the Sabbath. After the Jews settled in the American colonies of

England had been naturalized, a bill was presented in Parliament by

merchants and manufacturers, Jews and their friends, to be sure,

begging that they be treated as natives of England, without being

compelled to obtain civil rights by taking the sacrament, as the law

prescribed. Pelham, the minister, supported the petition, and pointed

out the advantages that would accrue to the country by the large

capital of the Portuguese Jews and their warm attachment to England.

By their opponents, however, partly self-interest, partly religious

prejudices were brought to bear against them. It was urged that, placed

on an equal footing with English citizens, the Jews would acquire

the whole wealth of the kingdom, would obtain possession of all the

landed property, and disinherit Christians: the latter would be their

slaves, and the Jews would choose their own rulers and kings. Orthodox

literalists argued that according to Christian prophecies they were

to remain without a home until gathered to the land of their fathers.

Surprisingly enough, a bill was passed by the Upper House permitting

Jews who had resided in England or Ireland for three consecutive

years to be naturalized; but they were not to occupy any secular or

clerical office, nor to receive the Parliamentary franchise. The lords

and the bishops, then, were not opposed to the Jews. The majority

of the Lower House also agreed to the bill, and George II ratified

it (March, 1753). Was the decision of the Three Estates really the

expression of the majority of the nation? This at once became doubtful:

imprecations were immediately thundered from pulpits, guilds, and the

taverns against the ministry which had urged the Naturalization Act for

Jews. In our days it seems hardly credible that the London merchants

should have feared the ruin of their trade by the influx of Jewish

capitalists. Deacon Josiah Tucker, who took the part of the Jews,

and defended the Naturalization Act, was attacked by the opposition

in parliament, in the newspapers, and in pamphlets, and his effigy,

together with his defense of the Jews, was burnt at Bristol. To the

vexation of the liberal-minded, the ministry were weak enough to yield

to the clamor of the populace arising from mercantile jealousy and

fanatical intolerance, and to annul their own work (1754) "because it

had provoked displeasure, and the minds of many loyal subjects had

been disquieted thereby." For, even the most violent enemies of the

act could not impute evil to the Jews of England; they created a good

impression upon Englishmen by their riches, accumulated without usury,

and by their noble bearing. Public opinion warmly sided with them and

their claims for civil equality, and if, for the moment, these were

disregarded, yet no unfavorable result ensued.

The second occurrence, although originating in a single person, roused

even more attention than the action of the English Parliament towards

the Jews. This person was Arouet de Voltaire, king in the domain of

literature in the eighteenth century, who with his demoniacal laughter

blew down like a house of cards the stronghold of the Middle Ages.

He, who believed neither in Providence nor in the moral progress of

mankind, was a mighty instrument of history in the advancement of

progress. Voltaire--in his writings an entrancing wizard, a sage, in

his life a fool, the slave of base passions--picked a quarrel with

the Jews, and sneered at them and their past. His hostility arose from

personal ill-humor and irritability. He maintained that during his stay

in London he lost eighty per cent of a loan of 25,000 francs, through

the bankruptcy of a Jewish capitalist named Medina. He cannot, however,

always be believed.

"Medina told me that he was not to blame for his bankruptcy:

that he was unfortunate, that he had never been a son of

Belial. He moved me, I embraced him, we praised God together,

and I lost my money. I have never hated the Jewish nation; I

hate nobody."

Yet, a low-minded Harpagon, who clung to his money, Voltaire, on

account of this large or small loss, hated not only this Jew, but

all Jews on earth. A second incident excited him still more against

them. When Voltaire was in Berlin and Potsdam as court poet, literary

mentor, and attendant of King Frederick, who both admired and detested

this diabolical genius, he gave a filthy commission to a Jewish

jeweler, named Hirsch, or Hirschel (1750), which he afterwards, at

the instigation of a rival in the trade, named Ephraim Veitel, wished

to withdraw. Friction arose between Voltaire and Hirschel, until some

arrangement was made, which the former afterwards desired to evade.

In a word, Voltaire practiced a series of mean tricks upon his Jewish

tradesman: cheated him about some diamonds, abused him, lied, forged

documents, and acted as if he were the injured party. At length a

complicated lawsuit sprang from these proceedings. King Frederick, who

had obtained information of all this from the legal documents, and from

a pamphlet, written ostensibly by Hirsch, in reality by Voltaire's

enemies, was highly enraged with the poet and philosopher scamp. He

resolved to banish him from Prussia, and wrote against him a comedy in

French verse, called "Tantalus in the Lawsuit." Voltaire's quarrel with

the Prussian Jew created a sensation, and provided ample material for

the mischievous delight of his opponents.

Next to avarice, revenge was a prominent feature in his character. It

was too trifling for Voltaire to avenge himself upon the individual

Jew who had contributed to his humiliation; he determined to make the

whole Jewish nation feel his hatred. Whenever he had an opportunity of

speaking of Judaism or Jews, he bespattered the Jews of the past and

the present with his obscene satire. This accorded with his method of

warfare. Christianity, which he thoroughly hated and despised, could

not be attacked openly without rendering the aggressor liable to severe

punishment. Judaism, the parent of Christianity, therefore served as

the target, against which he hurled his elegant, lightly brandished,

but venomous darts. In one of his essays particularly he poured forth

his gall against Jews and Judaism.

This partial and superficial estimate of the Jews, this summary

judgment of a whole people, and a history of a thousand years,

irritated many truth-loving men; but no one dared provoke a quarrel

with so dreaded an antagonist as Voltaire. It required a bold

spirit, but it was hazarded by a cultured Jew, named Isaac Pinto,

more from skillfully-calculated motives than from indignation at

Voltaire's baseless defamation. Pinto (born in Bordeaux, 1715; died

in Amsterdam, 1787) belonged to a Portuguese Marrano family, was

rich, cultivated, noble, and disinterested in his own affairs; but

suffered from pardonable egoism, namely, on behalf of the community.

After leaving Bordeaux he settled in Amsterdam, where he not only

served the Portuguese community, but also advanced large sums of

money to the government of Holland, and therefore held an honorable

position. He always took warm interest in the congregation in which

he had been born, and assisted it by word and deed. But his heart

was most devoted to the Portuguese Jews, his brethren by race and

speech; on the other hand, he was indifferent and cold towards the

Jews of the German and Polish tongues; he looked down upon them with

disdainful pride, as Christians of rank upon lowly Jews. Nobility of

mind and pride of race were intimately combined in Pinto. In certain

unpleasant matters in which the Portuguese community of Bordeaux had

become entangled, he displayed, on the one hand, ardent zeal, on the

other, hardness of heart. In this prosperous commercial town, since the

middle of the sixteenth century, there had flourished a congregation of

fugitive Marranos, who had fled from the prisons and the autos-da-fé

of the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisition. These refugees had brought

considerable capital and an enterprising spirit, and thus secured

right of residence and certain privileges, but only under the name of

new-Christians or Portuguese merchants. For a time they were forced

to undergo the hypocrisy of having their marriages solemnized in

the churches. Their numbers gradually increased; in two centuries

(1550-1750) the congregation of Bordeaux had grown to 200 families,

or 500 souls. The majority of the Portuguese Jews, or new-Christians,

of Bordeaux, kept large banking-houses, engaged in the manufacture of

arms, equipped ships, or undertook trans-marine business with French

colonies. To their importance as merchants and ship-owners they united

staunch uprightness, blameless honesty in business, liberality towards

Jews and non-Jews, and the dignity which they had brought from the

Pyrenean peninsula, their unnatural mother-country. Thus they gained

respect and distinction among the Christian inhabitants of Bordeaux,

and the French court as well as the high officials connived at their

presence, and gradually came to recognize them as Jews. The important

mercantile town also attracted German Jews from Alsace, and French

Jews from Avignon, under papal government, who obtained the right

to settle by paying large sums of money. The Portuguese Jews were

jealous; they feared that they would be placed on a level with these

co-religionists, who were little educated, and engaged in petty trading

or monetary transactions, and that they would lose their honorable

reputation. Induced by these selfish motives they exerted themselves

to have the immigrant German and Avignon Jews expelled from the town,

by appealing to the old edict that Jews might not dwell in France. But

the exiles contrived to gain the protection of influential persons

at court, and thus obtained the privilege of sojourn. Through the

connivance of the authorities, 152 foreign Jews had already flocked

to Bordeaux, several of whom had powerful friends. This was a thorn

in the side of the Portuguese, and to hinder the influx of strangers,

they passed (1760) an illiberal communal law against their foreign

co-religionists. They branded every foreign Jew not of Portuguese

origin as a vagrant and a beggar, and as a burden to the wealthy. They

calumniated the strangers, asserting that they followed dishonorable,

fraudulent occupations, and thereby predisposed the citizens and

authorities against them. According to their proposal, Portuguese Jews,

or their council, should be vested with the right to expel the foreign

Jews, or "vagrants," from the town within three days. This cruel and

heartless statute had to be confirmed by King Louis XV. It was not

difficult to obtain from this monarch, who was ruled by his wives and

his courtiers, the most inhuman petitions. A friend and kinsman of

Isaac Pinto undertook to get the sanction of the court for this statute.

This was Jacob Rodrigues Pereira (born in Spain, 1715; died in Paris,

1780), grandfather of the famous and enterprising Emile and Isaac

Pereira, a man of talent and noble character, and an artist of a

peculiar kind, who had obtained wide renown. He had invented a sign

language for the deaf and dumb, and taught these unfortunate people a

means of expressing their thoughts. As a Marrano, he had taught the

deaf and dumb in Spain. Love for the religion of his ancestors, or

hatred of the bloodthirsty Catholic Church impelled him to leave the

land of the Inquisition (about 1734), and, together with his mother

and sister, to emigrate to Bordeaux. Here, even before Abbé de l'Epée,

he so thoroughly verified his theory for the instruction of those

born dumb, in a specially appointed school, that the king conferred a

reward, and the first men of science--D'Alembert, Buffon, Diderot,

and Rousseau--lavished praises upon him. Pereira afterwards became

royal interpreter and member of the Royal Society in London. The

Portuguese community of Bordeaux appointed him their representative

in Paris, to ventilate their complaints and accomplish their ends.

Moved with sympathy for the unfortunate, he was yet so filled with

communal egoism, that he did not hesitate to inflict injury upon his

German and Avignon co-religionists. The commission to secure from

Louis XV the ratification of the proposed statute, he carried out but

too conscientiously. But in the disorderly government of this king

and his court there was a vast difference between the passing and the

administering of a law. The higher officials were able to circumvent

any law or defer its execution. The expulsion of the Jews of German

and Avignon origin from Bordeaux lay in the hands of the governor, the

Duc de Richelieu. Isaac Pinto, who was on intimate terms with him, was

able to win his support. Richelieu issued an urgent command (November,

1761) that within two weeks all foreign Jews should be banished from

Bordeaux. Exception was made only in favor of two old men and women

whom the hardships of the expulsion would have killed, and of a man

who had been of service to the town (Jacob de Perpignan). All the rest

were plunged into unavoidable distress, as it was forbidden to Jews

to settle anywhere in France, and the districts and towns where Jews

already dwelt admitted no new-comers. What a difference between the

German Jew Moses Mendelssohn and the Portuguese Jews Isaac Pinto and

Rodrigues Pereira, who in their time were ranked side by side! The

former did not cease his efforts, until by his influence he brought

help to his unhappy brethren, or at least offered them comfort.

For the Jews in Switzerland, who were tolerated only in two small

towns, and even there were so enslaved that they must have died out,

Mendelssohn procured some alleviation through his opponent Lavater.

Several hundred Jews were about to be expelled from Dresden, because

they could not pay the poll-tax laid upon them. Through Mendelssohn's

intercession with one of his numerous admirers, Cabinet Councilor

Von Ferber, the unfortunate people obtained permission to remain in

Dresden. To a Jewish Talmudical scholar unjustly suspected of theft

and imprisoned in Leipsic, Mendelssohn cleverly contrived to send a

letter of consolation, whereby he gained his freedom. Isaac Pinto and

Jacob Pereira, on the other hand, were zealous in bringing about the

expulsion of their brethren by race and religion, which Mendelssohn

considered the hardest punishment of the Jews, "equal to annihilation

from the face of God's earth, where armed prejudice repulses them at

every frontier."

The cruel proceedings of the Portuguese Jews against their brethren

in Bordeaux made a great stir. If Jews might not tarry in France, why

should those of Portuguese tongue be tolerated? The latter, therefore,

saw themselves compelled to put themselves in a favorable light,

and requested Isaac Pinto, who had already appeared in public, and

possessed literary culture, to write a sort of vindication for them,

and make clear the wide difference between Jews of Portuguese descent

and those of other lands. Pinto consented, or rather followed his own

inclination, and prepared the "Reflections" upon Voltaire's defamation

of Judaism (1762). He told this reckless calumniator that the crime of

libeling single individuals was increased when the false accusations

affected a whole nation, and reached its highest degree when directed

against a people insulted by all men, and when the responsibility for

the misdeeds of a few is laid upon the whole body, whose members,

moreover, widely scattered, have assumed the character of the

inhabitants of the country in which they live. An English Jew as little

resembles his co-religionist of Constantinople, as the latter does a

Chinese mandarin; the Jew of Bordeaux and he of Metz are two utterly

different beings. Nevertheless, Voltaire had indiscriminately condemned

them, and his sketch of them was as absurd as untrue. Voltaire, who

felt called upon to extirpate prejudices, had in fact lent his pen to

the greatest of them. He does not indeed wish them to be burnt, but a

number of Jews would rather be burnt than so calumniated. "The Jews are

not more ignorant, more barbarous, or superstitious than other nations,

least of all do they merit the accusation of avarice." Voltaire owed

a duty to the Jews, to truth, to his century, and to posterity, which

would justly appeal to his authority when abusing and trying to crush

an exceedingly unhappy people.

However, as already said, it was not so much Pinto's aim to vindicate

the whole of the Jewish world against Voltaire's malicious charges

as to place his kinsmen, the Portuguese or Sephardic Jews, in a more

favorable light. To this end, he pretended that a wide gulf existed

between them and those of other extraction, especially the German

and Polish Jews. He averred, with great exaggeration, that if a

Sephardic Jew in England or Holland wedded a German Jewess, he would

be excluded from the community by his relatives, and would not even

find a resting-place in their cemetery. This arose from the fact that

the Portuguese Jews traced their lineage from the noblest families of

the tribe of Judah, and that their noble descent had always in Spain

and Portugal been an impulse to great virtues and a protection against

vice and crime. Among them no traces of the wickedness or evil deeds

of which Voltaire accused them were to be found. On the contrary, they

had brought wealth to the states which received them, especially to

Holland. The German and Polish Jews, on the other hand, Pinto abandoned

to the attacks of their detractors, except that he excused their not

over honorable trades and despicable actions by the overwhelming

sufferings, the slavery, and humiliation which they had endured, and

were still enduring. He succeeded in obtaining what he had desired.

In reply, Voltaire paid him and the Portuguese Jews compliments, and

admitted that he had done wrong in including them in his charges, but

nevertheless continued to abuse Jewish antiquity.

Pinto's defense attracted great attention. The press, both French and

English, pronounced a favorable judgment, and espoused the cause of

the Jews against Voltaire. But they blamed Pinto for having been too

partial to the Portuguese, and too strongly opposed to the German

and Polish Jews, and, like Voltaire, passing sentence upon all

indiscriminately, because of the behavior of a few individuals. A

Catholic priest under a Jewish disguise took up the cause of Hebrew

antiquity. He addressed "Jewish Letters" to Voltaire, pretending that

they came from Portuguese and German Jews; these were well meant but

badly composed. They were widely read, and helped to turn the current

of public opinion in favor of the Jews against Voltaire's savage

attacks. They did not fail to remind him that owing to loss of money

sustained through one Jew he pursued the whole race with his anger.

This friendly pamphlet on behalf of the Jews being written in French,

then the fashionable language, it was extensively read and discussed,

and found a favorable reception.

Sympathy for the Jews and the movement to elevate them from their

servile position were most materially stimulated by a persecution which

humane thinkers of the time considered surprising and unexpected,

but which has often been repeated in the midst of Christian nations.

This persecution kindled passions on both sides, and awakened men

to activity. In no part of Europe, perhaps, were the oppression and

abasement of Jews greater than in the originally German, but at

that time French province of Alsace, to which Metz may be reckoned.

All causes of inveterate Jew-hatred--clerical intolerance, racial

antipathy, arbitrariness of the nobility, mercantile jealousy, and

brute ignorance--were combined against the Jews of Alsace, to render

their existence in the century of enlightenment a continual hell.

Yet the oppression was so paltry in its nature that it could never

stimulate the Jews to offer heroic resistance. The German populace of

this province, like Germans in general, clung tenaciously to their

hatred of the Jews. Both the nobles and citizens of Alsace turned a

deaf ear to the voice of humanity, which spoke so eloquently in French

literature, and would not abate one jot of their legal rights over

the Jews, who were treated as serfs. In Alsace there lived from three

to four thousand Jewish families (from fifteen to twenty thousand

souls). It was in the power of the nobility to admit new, or expel old

families. In Metz the merchants had had a law passed limiting Jews

to four hundred and eighty families. This condition of affairs had

the same consequences as in Austria and Prussia: younger sons were

condemned to celibacy, or exile from their paternal home, and daughters

to remain unmarried. In fact, it was worse than in Austria and

elsewhere, because German pedantry carefully looked to the execution

of these rigorous Pharaonic laws, and stealthily watched the French

officials, lest any attempt be made to show indulgence towards the

unfortunate people. Naturally the Jews of Alsace and Metz were enclosed

in Ghettos, and could only occasionally pass through the other parts of

the towns. For these privileges they were compelled to pay exorbitant

taxes.

Louis XIV had presented a portion of his income derived from the

Jews of Metz as a gift to the Duc de Brancas and the Countess de

Fontaine. They had to pay these persons 20,000 livres annually; besides

poll-taxes, trade-taxes, house-taxes, contributions to churches and

hospitals, war-taxes, and exactions of every sort under other names.

In Alsace they were obliged to pay protection-money to the king,

tribute to the bishop of Strasburg, and the duke of Hagenau, besides

residence-taxes to the nobles in whose feudal territory they dwelt, and

war-taxes. The privilege of residence did not descend to the eldest

son, but had to be purchased from the nobleman, as if the son were a

foreign applicant for protection. The Jews had to win the good opinion,

not alone of their lord, but also of his officials, by rich gifts at

New Year, and on other occasions. Whence could they procure all these

moneys, and still support their synagogues and schools?

Almost every handicraft and trade were forbidden them in Alsace:

legally they could engage only in cattle-dealing, and in trading in

gold and silver. In Metz the Jews were allowed to kill only such

animals as they required for private consumption, and the appointed

slaughterers had to keep a list of the animals slain. If they wished

to make a journey outside their narrow province, they had to pay

a poll-tax, and were subjected to the vexations of passports. In

Strasburg, the capital of the province, no Jew could stay over night.

What remained but to obtain the money indispensable for their wretched

existence in an illegal way--through usury? Those who possessed money

made advances to the small tradesmen, farmers, and vinedressers, at

the risk of losing the amounts lent, and demanded high interest, or

employed other artifices. This only caused them to be more hated, and

the growing impoverishment of the people was attributed to them, and

was the source of their unspeakable sufferings. They were in the sad

position of being compelled to make themselves and others unhappy.

This miserable condition of the Alsatian Jews a villainous man sought

to turn to his own advantage, and he almost brought on a sanguinary

persecution. A lawyer, not without brains and literary culture, named

Hell, belonging to a poor family, and ardently wishing for a high

position, being acquainted with the devices of the Jewish usurers,

actually learned the Hebrew language, to be able to levy blackmail on

them without fear of discovery. He sent threatening letters in Hebrew,

saying that they would inevitably be accused of usury and deception,

if they did not supply him with a stated sum of money. This worthless

lawyer afterwards became district judge to several Alsatian noblemen,

and thus the Jews were given wholly into his power. Those who did not

satisfy his continually increasing demands, were accused, ill-treated,

and condemned. Meantime his unjust conduct was partially exposed: he

was suspected, and this excited him against the Jews of Alsace. He

devised a plan to arouse fanaticism against them. He pointed out to

debtors a way to escape the oppressive debts which they owed Jewish

money-lenders, by producing false receipts as for payments already

rendered. Some of his creatures traveled through Alsace, and wrote out

such acquittances. Conscientious debtors had their scruples silenced

by the clergy, who assured them that robbing the Jews was a righteous

act. The timid were pacified by a rogue especially despatched for that

purpose, who distributed orders and crosses, presumably in the name

of the king, to those who accepted and presented the false receipts,

and were ready to accuse the Jews of oppression and duplicity. Thus

a menacing feeling, bordering on actual violence, developed against

the Jews of Alsace. The debtors united with common ruffians and

clergymen to implore the weak-minded king Louis XVI, to put an end to

all disturbances by expelling the Jews from the province. To crown

his work, the villainous district magistrate strove to exasperate

the populace against them. He composed a venomous work against them

(1779), "Observations of an Alsatian upon the Present Quarrels of the

Jews of Alsace," in which he collected all the slanderous accusations

against Jews from ancient times, in order to present a repulsive

picture of them, and expose them to hatred and extermination. He

admitted that receipts had been forged, but this was in consequence of

the decrees of Providence, to whom alone vengeance was becoming. They

hoped by these means to avenge the crucifixion of Jesus, the murder

of God. This district judge aimed at the annihilation, or, at least,

the expulsion of the Jews. But the spirit of toleration had acquired

sufficient strength to prevent the success of such cunning designs.

His base tricks were revealed, and, at the command of the king, Hell

was imprisoned, and afterwards banished from Alsace. A decree of the

sovereign ordered (May, 1780) that lawsuits against usurers should no

longer be decided by the district courts of the nobility, but by the

chief councilor, or state councilor (Conseil Souverain) of Alsace.

One result of these occurrences was that the Alsatian Jews finally

roused themselves, and ventured to state that their position was

intolerable, and to entreat relief from the throne of the gentle king

Louis XVI. Their representatives (Cerf Berr?) drew up a memorial to the

state council upon the inhuman laws under which they groaned, and made

proposals for the amelioration of their lot. They felt, however, that

this memorial should be written so as to influence public opinion, at

this time almost as powerful as the king himself. But in their midst

there was no man of spirit and ability who could compose a fitting

description of their condition.

To whom could they turn except to Mendelssohn, looked upon by European

Jews as their advocate and powerful supporter in distress? To him,

therefore, the Alsatian Jews--or, more correctly, their distinguished

representative Cerf Berr, who knew Mendelssohn--sent the material

with the request, to give the necessary polish and an impressive form

to their petition. Mendelssohn had neither the leisure, nor perhaps

the skill to carry out their request. Fortunately, he had found a new

friend and admirer, who, by knowledge and position, was better able

to formulate such a memorial. Christian William Dohm (b. 1751, d.

1820), owing to his thorough knowledge of history, had shortly before

been appointed by Frederick the Great--with the title of military

councilor--to superintend the archives. Like all ambitious youths and

men who frequented Berlin, Dohm had sought out the Jewish philosopher,

at this time at the summit of his fame; and like all who entered his

circle Dohm felt himself attracted by his intellectuality, gentleness,

and great wisdom. During his stay in Berlin he was a regular visitor

at the house of Mendelssohn, who, on Saturday, his day of leisure,

always assembled his friends around him. Every cultivated Christian

who came in contact with Mendelssohn was pleasantly attracted by him,

overcame his bias against Jews, and experienced mingled admiration and

sympathy for a race that had endured so much suffering, and produced

such a personality. Dohm had already thrown aside his innate or

acquired antipathy against Jews. His interest in mankind rested not

upon the shifting ground of Christian love, but upon the firm soil of

human culture, characteristic of the eighteenth century, and included

also this unhappy people. He had already planned to make the "history

of the Jewish nation since the destruction of their own state" the

subject of his studies.

Dohm evinced his readiness to draw up the memorial for the Alsatian

Jews in a pleasing form, in conjunction with Mendelssohn. Whilst

engaged on this task, the thought struck him to publish a plea, not

alone for protection for the few, but on behalf of all the German

Jews, who suffered under similar oppression. Thus originated his

never-to-be-forgotten work, "Upon the Civil Amelioration of the

Condition of the Jews" (finished August, 1781), the first step towards

removing the heavy yoke from the neck of the Jews. With this pamphlet,

like Lessing with his "Nathan," Dohm partly atoned for the guilt of the

German nation in enslaving and degrading the Jews. Dohm's apology has

no clerical tinge about it, but was addressed to sober, enlightened

statesmen, and laid particular stress upon the political advantages.

The noble philanthropist who first pleaded for the emancipation of the

negroes had fewer difficulties to overcome than Dohm in his efforts

for the freedom of the Jews. The very circumstances that ought to have

spoken in their favor, their intelligence and activity, their mission

to teach Christian nations pure doctrines on God and morality, their

ancient nobility--all tended to their detriment. Their intellectual

and energetic habits were described as cunning and love of gain;

their insistence upon the origin of their dogmas as presumption and

infidelity, and their ancient nobility as pride. It is difficult to

over-estimate the heroism required to speak a word on their behalf,

in face of the numerous prejudices and sentiments against the Jews

prevailing among all classes of Christian society.

In his apology Dohm, as already noted, omitted all reference to the

religious point of view, and dwelt solely upon the political and

economical aspect. He started by asserting that it was a universal

conviction that the welfare of states depended upon increase of

population. To this end many governments spent large sums of money to

attract new citizens from foreign countries. An exception was made

only in the case of Jews. "Almost in all parts of Europe the tendency

of the laws and the whole constitution of the state is to prevent, as

far as possible, the increase of these unfortunate Asiatic refugees.

Residence is either denied them, or granted, at a fixed sum, for a

short time. A large proportion of Jews thus find the gates of every

town closed against them; they are inhumanly driven away from every

border, and nothing is left to them except to starve, or to save

themselves from starvation by crime. Every guild would think itself

dishonored by admitting a Jew as a member; therefore, in almost every

country, the Hebrews are debarred from handicrafts and mechanical

arts. Only men of rare genius, amidst such oppressive circumstances,

retain courage and serenity to devote themselves to the fine arts

and the sciences. Even the rare men who attain to a high degree of

excellence, as well as those who are an honor to mankind through their

irreproachable righteousness, meet with respect only from a few; with

the majority the most distinguished merits of soul and heart can never

atone for the error of 'being a Jew.' What reasons can have induced

the governments of European states to be so unanimous in this attitude

towards the Jewish nation?" asked Dohm. Is it possible that industrious

and good citizens are less useful to the state, because they originally

came from Asia, and are distinguished by a beard, by circumcision,

and their form of worship? If the Jewish religion contained harmful

principles, then the exclusion of its adherents and the contempt felt

for them would be justified; but that is not the case. "The mob, which

considers itself at liberty to deceive a Jew, falsely asserts that, by

his law, he is permitted to cheat the adherents of another creed, and

persecuting priests have spread stories of the prejudices felt by the

Jews, and thus revealed their own. The chief book of the Jews, the Law

of Moses, is regarded with reverence also by Christians."

Dohm reviewed the history of the Jews in Europe--how, in the first

centuries, they had enjoyed full civil rights in the Roman Empire, and

must have been considered worthy of such privileges--how they were

degraded and deprived of their rights, first by the Byzantines, then

by the German barbarians, especially by the Visigoths in Spain. From

the Roman Empire the Jews had brought more culture than the dominant

nations possessed; they were not brutalized by savage feuds, nor

was their progress retarded by monkish philosophy and superstition.

In Spain amongst Jews and Arabs there had existed a more remarkable

culture than in Christian Europe. Dohm then reviewed the false

accusations and persecutions against Jews in the Middle Ages, painting

the Christians as cruel barbarians and the Jews as illustrious martyrs.

After touching upon the condition of the Jews in the various states, he

concluded his delineation with the words:

"These principles of exclusion, equally opposed to humanity

and politics, which bear the impress of the dark centuries,

are unworthy of the enlightenment of our times, and deserve no

longer to be followed. It is possible that some errors have

become so deeply rooted that they will disappear only in the

third or fourth generation. But this is no argument against

beginning to reform now; because, without such beginning, a

better generation can never appear."

Dohm suggested a plan whereby the amelioration of the condition of the

Jews might be facilitated, and his proposals formed a programme for the

future. In the first place, they were to receive equal rights with all

other subjects. In particular, liberty of occupation and in procuring a

livelihood should be conceded them, so that, by wise precautions, they

would be drawn away from petty trading and usury, and be attracted to

handicrafts, agriculture, arts, and sciences, all without compulsion.

The moral elevation of the Jews was to be promoted by the foundation

of good schools of their own, or by the admission of their youth

into Christian schools, and by the elevation of adults in the Jewish

Houses of Prayer. But it should also be impressed upon Christians,

through sermons and other effectual means, that they were to regard

and treat the Jews as brothers and fellow-men. As a matter of course,

Dohm desired to see freedom in their private religious affairs granted

them: free exercise of religion, the establishment of synagogues, the

appointment of teachers, maintenance of their poor, if considered wise,

under the supervision of the government. Even the power of excluding

refractory members from the community should be given them. Dohm,

moreover, pleaded for the continuance, under certain restrictions,

of independent jurisdiction in cases between Jews, the power to be

vested in a tribunal of rabbis. He wished to debar them from only

one privilege, from filling public offices, or entering the arena

of politics. The ability to undertake these duties, he thought, was

completely lacking in that generation, and would not manifest itself

very conspicuously in the next. Besides there was a super-abundance

rather than a lack of competent state officers. For this reason, it

would, for the present, be better both for the state and the Jews, if

they worked in warehouses and behind the plough rather than in state

offices. The immediate future disproved his doubts.

Dohm foresaw that his programme for the emancipation of the Jews

would meet with violent and stubborn opposition from the clergy and

the theological school. He therefore submitted it to the "wisdom of

the governments," who at this time were more inclined to progress and

enlightenment than the people. Dohm was filled with the seriousness and

importance of his task; he was positive that his proposals would lay

the basis not only for the welfare of the Jews, but also for that of

the states. It is not to be overlooked that Mendelssohn stood behind

him. Even if he did not dictate the words, yet he breathed into them

his spirit of gentleness and love of mankind, and illumined the points

which were strange and dark to Dohm, the Christian and political

writer. Mendelssohn is, therefore, to be looked upon, if not as the

father, certainly as the godfather, of Dohm's work.

It was inevitable for such a treatise to create great excitement in

Germany. Must not this demand to treat Jews as equals have appeared to

respectable Christians as a monstrous thing; as if the nobility had

been asked to place themselves at the same table with their slaves?

Soon after its appearance, Dohm's work advocating Jewish emancipation

became extraordinarily popular; it was read, discussed, criticised,

and refuted by many, and approved by only a few. The first rumor was

that Dohm had sold his pen to the Jews for a very high price, although

he had specially entreated protection for the poor homeless peddlers.

Fortune began to smile upon the Jews after having turned its back

upon them for so many centuries. Scarcely had the pamphlet appeared,

when Emperor Joseph, the first Austrian ruler to allow himself in

some degree to be guided by moral and humane principles, having

snapt asunder the yoke of the Catholic Church, and having accorded a

Toleration Edict to the Protestants, issued a series of laws relating

to the Jews, which displayed sincere if rather fierce philanthropy.

By this new departure (October 19, 1781), the Jews were permitted to

learn handicrafts, arts, and sciences, and with certain restrictions

to devote themselves to agriculture. The doors of the universities and

academies, hitherto closed to them, were thrown open. The education

of the Jewish youth was a matter of great interest to this emperor,

who promoted "philosophical morality." He accordingly decreed the

establishment of Jewish primary and high schools (normal schools), and

forced adults to learn the language of the country, by decreeing that

in future only documents written in that language would possess legal

force. He considerately removed the risk of all possible attempts at

religious compulsion. In the schools everything that might be offensive

to any creed was to be omitted from the curriculum. An ordinance

enjoined (November 2) that the Jews were to be everywhere considered

"fellow-men," and all excesses against them were to be avoided. The

Leibzoll (body-tax), more humiliating to Christians than to Jews, was

also abolished by Joseph II of glorious memory, in addition to the

special law-taxes, the passport-duty, the night-duty, and all similar

oppressive imposts which had stamped the Jews as outcasts, for they

were now to have equal rights with the Christian inhabitants (December

19). Joseph II did not intend to concede complete citizenship to the

Jews; they were still forbidden to reside in those cities whence

Christian intolerance had hitherto banished them. Even in Vienna Jews

were allowed to dwell only in a few exceptional cases, on payment of

protection-money (toleration-tax), which protection did not extend to

their grown-up sons. They were not suffered to have a single public

synagogue in Vienna. But Joseph II annulled a number of vexatious,

restrictive regulations, such as the compulsory wearing of beards, the

prohibition against going out in the forenoon on Sundays and holidays,

or frequenting public pleasure resorts. The emperor even permitted

Jewish wholesale merchants, notables, and their sons, to wear swords

(January 2, 1782), and especially insisted that Christians should

behave in a friendly manner towards Jews.

A notable beginning was thus made. The ignominy of a thousand years,

which the uncharitableness of the Church, the avarice of princes,

and the brutality of nations, had cast upon the race of Judah, was

now partly removed, at least in one country. Dohm's proposals in

consequence met with earnest consideration; they were not regarded

as ideal dreams, but as political principles worthy of attention.

Scholars, clergymen, statesmen, and princes began to interest

themselves seriously in the Jewish question. Every thoughtful person in

Germany and elsewhere took one side or the other. Various opinions and

ideas were aired; the most curious propositions were made. A preacher,

named Schwager, wrote:

"I have always been averse to hating an unfortunate nation,

because it worships God in another way. I have always lamented

that we have driven the Jews to deceive us by an oppressive

political yoke. For, what else can they do, in order to live?

in what other way can they defray their heavy taxes?"

Diez, Dohm's excellent friend, one of the noblest men of that epoch,

afterwards Prussian ambassador to the Turkish court, thought that Dohm

had asked far too little for the Jews.

"You aver most truly," he remarked, "that the present moral

depravity of the Jews is a consequence of their bondage. But

to color the picture, and weaken the reproaches leveled at the

Jews, a representation of the moral depravity of the Christians

would have been useful; certainly it is not less than that of

the Jews, and rather the cause of the latter."

John von Müller, the talented historian of the Swiss, with his wide

attainments in general history, also admired the glorious antiquity of

the Jews, praised Dohm's efforts on behalf of the Jews, and supplied

him from the treasures of his knowledge with new proofs of the unjust

and pitiless persecution of the mediæval Jews, and their demoralization

by intolerable tyranny. He wished the writings of Maimuni, "the Luther

of the Jews," to be translated into one of the European languages.

Naturally, hostile pamphlets were not wanting. Especially noteworthy

was an abusive tract, published in Prague, entitled "Upon the Inutility

of the Jews in the Kingdoms of Bohemia and Moravia," in which the

author indulged in common insults against the Jews, and revived all

the charges of poisoning wells, sedition, and other pretexts for their

expulsion. This scurrilous work was so violent, that Emperor Joseph

forbade its circulation (March 2, 1782). A bitter opponent of the Jews

at this time was Frederick Traugott Hartmann. And why? Because he had

been cheated out of a few pennies by Jewish hawkers. On account of

their venomous tone, however, these writings harmed the Jews less than

those of the German pedants.

To these belonged a famous scholar of authority, John David Michaelis,

the aged professor at Göttingen. His range of vision had been widened

by travels and observation, and he had cut himself adrift from the

narrowness of Lutheran theology. Michaelis was the founder of the

rationalist school of theologians, who resolved the miracles and the

sublimity of the Holy Scriptures into simple natural facts. Through

his "Mosaic Law," and cultivation of Hebrew grammar and exegesis,

he gained high repute. But Michaelis had exactly that proportion

of unbelief and belief which made him hate the Jews as the bearers

of revealed religion and a miraculous history, and despise them as

antagonists of Christianity. A Jewish officer in the French army,

when it was stationed in Göttingen, had given but a grudging salute

in return for the slavish obeisances of the professors, which they

held as due to every Frenchman. This was ground enough for Michaelis

to abominate the Jews one and all, and to affirm that they were of

despicable character. Michaelis had several years before remarked,

on the appearance of Lessing's drama "The Jew," "that a noble Jew

was a poetic impossibility." Experience had disproved this assertion

through Mendelssohn and other persons; but a German professor cannot

be mistaken. Michaelis adhered to his opinion that the Jews were an

incorrigible race. Now he condemned the Jews from a theological point

of view, now from political considerations. It is hard to say whether

it is to be called insensibility, intellectual dullness, or malice,

when Michaelis blurts out with:

"It seems to me, that here in Germany they (the Jews) already

have everything that they could possibly desire, and I do

not know what he (Dohm) wishes to add thereto. Medicine,

philosophy, physics, mathematics, they are not excluded from,

--and he himself does not wish them to have offices."

He even defended the taking of protection-money from the Jews.

It cannot be said that the anti-Jewish treatise of Michaelis injured

them at the time, for in no case would the German princes and people

have emancipated them, had not the imperious progress of history

compelled it. But in after years Michaelis was employed as an authority

against the Jews. The agitation excited by Dohm, and the views _pro_

and _con_ had only resulted in forming public opinion upon Judaism,

and this affected not Germany, but France. Miraculous concatenation

of historical events! The venomous Alsatian district judge wished to

have the Jews of Alsace annihilated, and through his malice he actually

facilitated the liberation of the Jews in France.

Mendelssohn prudently kept himself in the background in this movement:

he did not desire to have attention drawn to him as a prejudiced

defender of his brethren in religion and race. He blessed the outbreak

of interest in his unhappy kinsmen.

"Blessed be Almighty Providence that has allowed me, at the end

of my days, to see the happy time, when the rights of humanity

begin to be realized in their true extent."

However, two things induced him to break silence. He found that the

arrows hurled by Dohm had been insufficient to pierce the thick-skinned

monster of Jew-hatred.

"Reason and humanity have raised their voices in vain, for

grey-headed prejudice is deaf."

Dohm himself did not appear to him to be free from the general

prejudice, because he admitted that the Jews of the present day were

depraved, useless, even harmful; therefore he suggested means to

improve them. But Mendelssohn, who knew his co-religionists better, did

not find them so greatly infected with moral leprosy--or differing

so widely from Christians of the same class and trade--as arrogant

Christians in their self-glorification were wont to assert. In a very

clever way Mendelssohn made not alone the Göttingen scholars Michaelis

and Hartmann, but also Dohm, understand that they had misconceived the

Jewish question.

"It is wonderful to note how prejudice assumes the forms of

every century in order to act despotically towards us, and

place difficulties in the way of our obtaining civil rights. In

superstitious ages we were said to insult sacred objects out of

mere wantonness; to pierce crucifixes and cause them to bleed;

secretly to circumcise children and stab them in order to

feast our eyes upon the sight; to draw Christian blood for our

Passover; to poison wells.

"Now times have changed, calumny no longer makes the desired

impression. Now we, in turn, are upbraided with superstition

and ignorance, lack of moral sentiments, taste, and refined

manners, incapacity for the arts, sciences, and useful

pursuits, especially for the service of war and the state,

invincible inclination to cheating, usury, and lawlessness; all

these have taken the place of coarse indictments against us, to

exclude us from the number of useful citizens, and reject us

from the motherly bosom of the state. They tie our hands, and

reproach us that we do not use them.... Reason and the spirit

of research of our century have not yet wiped away all traces

of barbarism in history. Many a legend of the past has obtained

credit, because it has not occurred to any one to cast doubts

upon it. Some are supported by such important authorities that

few have the boldness to look upon them as legends and libels.

Even at the present moment there is many a city of Germany

where no circumcised person, even though he pays duty for his

creed, is allowed to issue forth in open daylight unwatched,

lest he kidnap a Christian child or poison the wells; while

during the night he is not trusted under the strictest

surveillance, owing to his well-known intercourse with evil

spirits."

The second point in Dohm's memoir which did not please Mendelssohn was,

that it demanded the recognition of the state for the Jewish religion,

inasmuch as the government was to grant it the right of excluding

unruly members by a sort of excommunication. This did not harmonize

with his conception of a pure religion. In order to counteract the

errors of Dohm's well-meant apology, and the obstinate misapprehension

of the Jews as much as possible, Mendelssohn caused one of his young

friends, the physician Marcus Herz, to translate from the English

original the "Vindiciæ Judæorum" of Manasseh ben Israel against the

numerous slanderous charges brought against them. He himself wrote a

preface full of luminous, glowing thoughts (March, 1782), called "The

Salvation of the Jews," as an appendix to Dohm's work. Manasseh's

Apology was buried in a book little read; Mendelssohn made its

excellent truths known among the cultured classes, and by a correct

elucidation gave them proper emphasis. In this preface he insisted,

that while the church arrogates the right of inflicting punishment upon

its followers, religion, the true faith, based upon reason and love

of humanity, "requires neither an arm nor a finger for its purpose;

it concerns only the spirit and the heart. Moreover it does not drive

sinners and renegades from its doors." Without knowing the whole extent

of the harm caused by it in the course of Jewish history, Mendelssohn

detested the interdicting power. He therefore adjured the rabbis and

elders to give up their right of excommunicating.

"Alas! my brethren, you have felt the oppressive yoke of

intolerance only too severely; all the nations of the earth

seem hitherto to have been deluded by the idea that religion

can be maintained only by an iron hand. You, perhaps, have

suffered yourselves to be misled into thinking the same. Oh,

my brethren, follow the example of love, as you have till now

followed that of hatred!"

Mendelssohn now held so high a position in public opinion, that every

new publication bearing his name was eagerly read. The fundamental

thought of the preface to Manasseh ben Israel's "Vindication," that

religion has no rights over its followers and must not resort to

compulsory measures, struck its readers with astonishment. This had

never occurred to any Christian believer. Enlightened Christian

clergymen, such as Teller, Spalding, Zollikofer, and others, gradually

fell in with the new idea, and tendered its originator public applause.

Bigoted clerics and obdurate minds, on the other hand, beheld therein

the destruction of religion. "All this is new and difficult; first

principles are denied," said they. In Jewish circles also many

objections were made to Mendelssohn's view. It seemed as if he had

suddenly discarded Judaism, which certainly owns an elaborate system of

penalties for religious crimes and transgressions. From the Christian

camp a pamphlet called "Inquiry into Light and Truth" was launched

against him, which asserted that he had finally dropped his mask; that

he had embraced the religion of love, and turned his back upon his

native faith, which execrates and punishes.

A second time Mendelssohn was compelled to emerge from his retirement,

and give his views upon religion. This he did in a work entitled

"Jerusalem," or "Upon Ecclesiastical Power and Judaism" (spring,

1783), whose purity of contents and form is a memorial of his lofty

genius. The gentleness that breathes through this book, the warmth of

conviction, the frankness of utterance, its childlike ingenuousness,

yet profoundly thoughtful train of ideas, the graceful style which

renders even dry discussion enjoyable--all these qualities earned

contemporary approval for this work, and will always assure it a

place in literature. At the time it excited great surprise. It had

been believed, that, owing to his ideas upon religion and Judaism,

Mendelssohn, if he had not entirely broken away from Judaism, had yet

declared many things therein to be worthless. He now showed that he

was an ardent Jew, and would not yield a tittle of existing Judaism,

either rabbinical or biblical; that he, in fact, claimed the highest

privileges for it. All this was in accord with his peculiar method of

thought.

Judaism recognizes the freedom of religious convictions. Original,

pure Judaism, therefore, contains no binding articles of belief,

no symbolical books, by which the faithful were compelled to swear

and affirm their incumbent duty. Judaism prescribes not faith, but

knowledge, and it urges that its doctrines be taken to heart. In this

despised religion everyone may think, opine, and err as he pleases,

without incurring the guilt of heresy. Its right of inflicting

punishment begins only when evil thoughts become acts. Why? Because

Judaism is not revealed religion, but revealed legislation. Its first

precept is not, "thou shalt believe or not believe," but, "thou shalt

do or abstain from doing."

"In the divinely-ordained constitution, state and religion

are one. Not unbelief, false teaching, and error, but wicked

offenses against the principles of the state and the national

constitution are chastised. With the destruction of the

Temple, _i. e._, with the downfall of the state, all corporal

and capital punishment, as well as money fines, ceased. The

national bonds were dissolved; religious trespasses were no

longer crimes against the state, and religion, as such, knows

no punishments."

For those who seriously or jestingly had reported that Mendelssohn

had separated from Judaism, he laid stress upon two points not wholly

germane to his subject, viz., that the so-called ceremonial law of

Judaism is likewise, indeed particularly, of divine origin, and that

its obligatory character must continue "until it pleases the Supreme to

abrogate it as plainly and publicly as it was revealed."

The effect of this detailed apology was greater than Mendelssohn

could have expected. Instead of defending himself he had come forward

as an accuser, and in a manner at once gentle and forcible he had

laid bare the hateful ulcers of the church and state constitution.

Two authoritative representatives of the age pronounced flattering

opinions upon him and the subject which he was discussing. Kant, who

had already testified to his greatness of thought, wrote that he had

read "Jerusalem" with admiration for its keenness of argument, its

refinement, and cleverness of composition.

"I consider this book the herald of a great reform, which

will affect not alone your nation, but also others. You have

succeeded in combining your religion with such a degree of

freedom of conscience as was never imagined possible, and of

which no other faith can boast. You have, at the same time, so

thoroughly and clearly demonstrated the necessity of unlimited

liberty of conscience in every religion, that ultimately our

Church will also be led to reflect how to remove from its midst

everything that disturbs and oppresses conscience, which will

finally unite all men in their view of the essential points of

religion."

Michaelis, the rationalistic anti-Semite, stood baffled, embarrassed,

and ashamed before the bold ideas of the "Jerusalem." Judaism, which he

had scornfully disdained, now fearlessly and victoriously raised its

head. The Jew Mendelssohn, whom he would not have trusted with a penny,

appeared the incarnation of conscientiousness and wisdom. Michaelis

was sorely perplexed in passing judgment upon this remarkable work.

He was obliged to admit many things. Thus, without selfish motives,

impelled only by circumstances, Mendelssohn glorified Judaism, and

shook off disgrace from his people. In the meantime Dohm was aiding

him. He continued to expound Judaism in the most favorable light,

and refute all objections, the honest as well as the malicious ones;

he had come to regard the quarrel as his own. But Dohm effected most

by enlisting through his writings in favor of Jews the sympathies of

Mirabeau, a man with shoulders strong enough to bear a new system of

the world, and he continued the work of Dohm.

At the same time, and in the same way, that is, indirectly, Mendelssohn

again urged the internal rejuvenescence of the Jews, which was to

accompany their emancipation. From modesty or discretion, he would

not come to the front; he had stimulated Dohm to do battle for their

emancipation, and for their regeneration he brought forward another

friend, who appeared born for the task. Owing to Mendelssohn, Wessely

became a historical personage, who worked with all his energy for the

improvement of the Jews, completing the deficiency of Mendelssohn's

retiring character. Hartwig (Hartog, Naphtali-Herz) Wessely (born

in Hamburg, 1725; died in the same town, 1805) was of a peculiar

disposition, combining elements not often associated. His grandfather

had established a manufactory for arms in Holstein, and had been a

commercial councilor and royal resident. His father also conducted an

important business, and had frequent intercourse with so-called great

people. In this way Hartwig Wessely came with his father to Copenhagen,

where a Portuguese congregation, and also a few German Jews had

settled. His early education was the same as that of most boys of that

time; he learnt to read Hebrew mechanically, and to mis-translate the

Bible, to be launched, a boy of nine, into the labyrinth of the Talmud.

But a traveling grammarian, Solomon Hanau, promoted the development

of the germs within him, and inspired him with love for the Hebrew

language. His labor was not in vain. The seed sown by Hanau was to bear

thousand-fold fruit. Wessely's chief interest was the study of the

Holy Writings in the original tongue; it was the aim of his life to

understand them from all points of view. Owing to his father's frequent

contact with non-Jewish circles, in the course of business, Wessely

obtained an insight into actual life, and absorbed other branches of

knowledge, the modern languages, geography, history, descriptions of

travels. These only served as auxiliary sciences to be employed in

his special study of the Scriptures, and by their means to penetrate

deeper into their thought and spirit. Like Mendelssohn, Wessely was

self-taught. Very early he developed taste, a sense for beauty, feeling

for purity of speech and form, and repugnance to the mixed dialects and

the jargon commonly used among German Jews.

Wessely again resembled Mendelssohn in character, distinguished as he

was by strict conscientiousness and elevated feelings of honor. In him,

too, thoughts, sentiments, words, and deeds, showed no discrepancy.

He was of deep, pure piety, an unswerving adherent to Judaism. His

nature, however, did not display the gentle pliancy of Mendelssohn's.

He was stiff and pedantic, more inclined to juggle with words and split

hairs than to think deeply, and he had no correct idea of the action

of world-moving forces. All his life Wessely remained a visionary,

and saw the events of the real world through colored glasses. In one

way Wessely was apparently superior to Mendelssohn; he was a poet. In

reality, however, he only possessed uncommon facility and skill in

making beautiful, well-sounding verses of blameless refinement, of

graceful symmetrical smoothness, and accurate construction.

Wessely was greatly charmed by the laws of Emperor Joseph in favor

of the Jews, especially by the command to erect schools; he beheld

therein the dawn of a golden age for the Jews, whilst Mendelssohn, with

his keen perception, from the first did not expect great results. He

remarks, "It is perhaps only a passing idea, without any substance, or,

as some fear, it has a financial purpose." Wessely, however, composed a

glowing hymn of praise to the noble rule and the magnanimity of Emperor

Joseph. As soon as he was informed that the rigidly orthodox party in

Vienna regretted the order to establish schools as an interference

with their liberty of conscience, he addressed a Hebrew letter

(March, 1782), called "Words of Peace and Truth," to the Austrian

congregations, exhorting them to welcome it as a benefit, to rejoice

in it, and at once execute it. He explained that it was a religious

duty of the Jews, recommended even by the Talmud, to acquire general

culture, that the latter must even precede a knowledge of religion, and

that only by such means could they remove the disgrace which, owing

to their ignorance, had weighed upon them for so long a time. Wessely

emphasized the necessity of banishing the barbarous jargon from the

midst of the Jews, and of cultivating a pure, euphonious language. He

sketched a plan of instruction in his letter, showing how the Jewish

youth should be led, step by step, from elementary subjects to the

study of the Talmud. This letter, written with fervor, impressive

eloquence, and in a beautiful Hebrew style, could not have failed

to produce great effect, had not Wessely, in his fantastic manner,

recommended that all Jewish youths, without distinction of talents and

future profession should be taught, not only history and geography but

also natural sciences, astronomy, and religious philosophy, because

only by this preliminary knowledge could a thorough understanding of

Holy Writ and of Judaism be acquired!

This epistle bore him both sweet and bitter fruit. The community

of Trieste, chiefly comprising Italian and Portuguese Jews, who,

unlike the Germans, did not consider culture as heresy, had applied

to the governor, Count Zinzendorf, declaring their readiness to

establish a normal school, and begging him to advise them how they

might procure text books on religion and ethics. Zinzendorf directed

them to Mendelssohn, whose celebrated name had penetrated to that

distant place. Accordingly, Joseph Chayim Galaïgo, in the name of

the congregation of Trieste, addressed a petition to the Jewish sage

of Berlin for his writings. On this occasion, Mendelssohn called the

attention of the people of Trieste to his friend Wessely and to his

circular letter, recommending the founding of Jewish schools, and

the community forthwith entered into negotiations with him. Thus his

fervent words met with early encouragement.

From the strictly pious people, however, a storm now broke out against

him. They were particularly indignant at his hearty approval of Emperor

Joseph's reforms. The unamiable manner in which princes were wont to

concede freedom, the force brought to bear upon the Jews, a natural

aversion to forsake the past, the legitimate fear that through school

education and partial emancipation young men would be seduced from

Judaism, and that the instruction given at the normal schools would

supersede the study of the Talmud--all these things had induced the

rabbis and the representatives of tradition to oppose the reforming

Jewish ordinances of Emperor Joseph. Besides, men of doubtful piety,

such as Herz Homberg, eagerly pressed forward to obtain appointments at

the newly-founded training schools, and to tempt the youthful students

to innovations. There were, to be sure, intelligent men, especially

in Prague, who greeted the new laws as salutary measures, and hoped

that by these means the Jews would rise out of their wretched,

demoralized condition. But this minority was denounced by the orthodox

as innovators and triflers. Religious simplicity, which at every puff

of wind feared the downfall of the edifice of faith, and the desire

of gain, which fattened upon ignorance, and the perverse method of

instruction in a corrupt dialect, worked hand in hand to predispose

the communities against school reforms. Wessely destroyed the whole

opposition with one blow. He who had hitherto been respected as an

orthodox believer, now supported the new order of things. Further, in

his incautious way, he had quoted the Talmudical sentence, "A Talmudist

who does not possess knowledge (general culture), is uglier than a

carcass." This expression greatly angered the orthodox. The Austrian

rabbis dared not attack him openly, because he had only followed the

emperor in his ideas. They appear therefore to have incited certain

Polish rabbis to condemn his circular letter and excommunicate him.

Although the zealots were without support from Berlin, they continued

in their heretic-hunting, causing the pulpits to re-echo with

imprecations against Wessely; and in Lissa his letter was publicly

burnt. He had the bitter experience of standing alone in this conflict.

None of his adherents publicly sided with him, although he was

contending for a just cause by noble methods and in a most becoming

manner. Mendelssohn did not like such disputes, and at this time was

suffering too much, bodily and mentally, to take part. Thus Wessely had

to conduct his own defense. He published a second letter (April 24),

supposed to be addressed to the Trieste congregation, in which he again

dwelt upon the importance of regular instruction, and of the abolition

of old practices, and disproved the charges against him. Gentle and

forbearing as he was, he avoided retorting severely upon his opponents;

but he permitted words of censure against orthodoxy and the one-sided,

perverse Talmudic tendency to slip from him. It was, indeed, the irony

of history, that the most orthodox among the followers of Mendelssohn,

without wishing it, opened fire on Rabbinism, as the Kabbalist Jacob

Emden had given the first violent blow to the Kabbala. By and by,

several Italian rabbis of Trieste, Ferrara, and Venice, spoke in favor

of Wessely, and recommended culture, although they were unable to

bridge over the chasm between it and Rabbinism. Wessely was victorious;

and the opposing rabbis laid down their arms. Schools for regular

instruction arose here and there, even in Prague. But the strict

Talmudists were right. Their suspicions foreboded the future more truly

than Mendelssohn's and Wessely's confidence. The old rigid form of

Judaism could no more assert itself. Both these men, who had felt so

much at ease in the old structure, and wished only to see it cleansed

here and there from cobwebs and fungus growths, contributed to sap its

foundations.

Wessely, ever deserted by fortune, lived to see this decay with weeping

eyes. Mendelssohn, more fortunate, was spared this pain. Death called

him away in time, before he perceived that his circle, even his own

daughters, treated with contemptuous scorn and rejected what his heart

held to be most sacred, and what he so earnestly strove to glorify.

Had he lived ten years longer, even his wisdom would perhaps not

have availed him to tide over this anguish. He who without a trace

of romance had led an ideal life, died ideally transfigured, at the

right moment. The friendship and the philosophy which had elevated

his life and brought him fame broke his heart. When Mendelssohn was

about to raise a memorial to his unforgotten friend, to show him

in his true greatness to future generations, he learned from Jacobi

that shortly before his death Lessing had manifested a decided liking

for the philosophy of Spinoza. "Lessing a Spinozist!" This pierced

Mendelssohn's heart as with a spear. Nothing was so distasteful to

him as the pantheistic system of Spinoza, which denied a personal

God, Providence, and Immortality, ideas with which Mendelssohn's soul

was bound up. That Lessing should have entertained such convictions,

and that he, his bosom friend, should know nothing whatsoever about

them! Jealousy that Lessing had communicated to others the secret

so carefully concealed from himself, and deep disappointment that

his friend had not shared his own convictions took possession of

Mendelssohn. He suspected, that his philosophy, if it was true that

Lessing had not been pleased with it, would become obsolete, and be

thrust aside. His whole being rose in resistance against such doubts.

These thoughts robbed the last years of his life of rest, made him

passionate, excited, feverish. While composing his work in refutation

of Jacobi's, "To the Friends of Lessing," excitement so overpowered

him that it brought on his death (January 4, 1786). This ideal death

for friendship and wisdom worthily concluded his life, and showed him

to posterity as he appeared to his numerous friends and admirers, an

upright, honest man, in whom was neither falsehood nor guile. Almost

the entire population of the Prussian capital, and many earnest men

in Germany and beyond its borders mourned the man who, forty years

before, with heavy heart had knocked at one of the gates of Berlin,

in fear that the Christian or the Jewish beadle would drive him away.

The attempt of his Christian friends, Nicolai, Biester, and Engel,

the tutor of the Crown Prince Frederick William III, in conjunction

with Jewish admirers, to erect a statue to Mendelssohn in the Opera

Square next to those of Leibnitz, Lambert, and Sulzer, although it did

not meet with approval, characterizes the progress of the time. The

deformed son of the so-called "Ten Commandments writer" of Dessau had

become an ornament to the city of Berlin.