THE MEASFIM AND THE JUDÆO-CHRISTIAN SALON.
The Progressionists--The Gatherer (Meassef)--David Mendes--
Moses Ensheim--Wessely's Mosaid--Marcus Herz--Solomon
Maimon--Culture of the Berlin Jews--Influence of French
Literature--First Step for Raising the Jews--The Progressive
and Orthodox Parties--The Society of Friends--Friedländer
and Conversion--Depravity of Berlin Jewesses--Henrietta Herz
--Humboldt--Dorothea Mendelssohn--Schlegel--Rachel--
Schleiermacher--Chateaubriand.
1786-1791 C. E.
The state of the German Jews, among whom the battle against unreason
began, was more satisfactory than that of the Polish Jews. In Germany
youthful activity and energy asserted themselves, an impulse to
action that promised to repair in a short space of time the neglect
of centuries. Great enthusiasm suddenly sprang up, which produced
wonderful, or at least surprising, results, and overcame the benumbing
effects of apathy. Young men tore the scepter from the grasp of the
aged, and desired to preach new wisdom, or rather to rejuvenate the
old organism of Judaism with new sap. The synagogue might well have
exclaimed, "Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have lost my children,
and am desolate, a captive, and removing to and fro? and who hath
brought up these?" A new spirit had come upon these youths, which,
in one night, put an end to their isolation, and transformed them
into organs for historical reconstruction. As if by agreement they
suddenly closed the ponderous folios of the Talmud, turned away from
it, and devoted themselves to the Bible, the eternal fount of youth.
Mendelssohn's Pentateuch translation poured out a new spirit over them,
furnished them with a new language, and infused new poetry into them.
Whence this body of spirited young men? What had hitherto been their
course of education? Why were they so powerfully influenced? Suddenly
they made their appearance, prophesied a new future, without knowing
exactly what they prophesied, and, scarce fledged, soared aloft. From
Poland to Alsace, from Italy to Amsterdam, London, and Copenhagen, new
voices were heard, singing in harmonious union. Their significance
lay wholly in their harmony; singly, the voices appear thin, piping,
and untrained; only when united do they give forth a pleasant and
impressive tone. Those who had but recently learnt to appreciate the
beauties of Hebrew, came forward as teachers, to re-establish in its
purity a language, so greatly disfigured, so generally used, and so
continually abused. Inspired by ideals which the sage of Berlin had
conjured up, they desired to pave the way to a thorough understanding
of Holy Writ, to acquire a taste for poetry, and awaken zeal for
science. Carried away by ardor, they ignored the difficulties in the
way of a people, internally and externally enslaved, which seeks to
raise itself to the heights of poetry and philosophy, and therefore
they succeeded in accomplishing the revival. On the whole they achieved
more than Mendelssohn, their admired prototype, because the latter was
too cautious to take a step that might have an untoward result. But
these youths pressed boldly forward, for they had no reputation to
lose, and represented no interests that could be compromised.
This result was produced by a material and an ideal circumstance.
Frederick's eagerness for money, his desire to enrich the land, almost
compelled the Jews, especially those of Berlin, to accumulate capital.
Owing to their manufactories, speculations, and enormous enterprises
on the one hand, and their moderate manner of living on the other,
the first Jewish millionaires arose in Berlin, and by their side many
houses in affluent circumstances. But what could be done with these
riches? To the nobility and the court, Jews were not admitted; the
Philistine burghers closed their doors against these Jewish upstarts,
whom they regarded with envy. There thus remained for wealthy Jews only
literary intercourse, for which they have always had a preference. All
or the majority had in their youth made the acquaintance of the Talmud,
and were intimate with the world of books. This circumstance gave their
efforts an ideal character: they did not worship Mammon alone; reading
in their leisure hours was a necessity to them. As soon as German
literature had been naturalized in their midst through Mendelssohn,
they included it in their circle of studies, either with the serious
object of cultivating themselves or to be in accord with fashion. In
this matter they excelled the Christian citizens, who as a rule did not
care for books. Jewish merchants, manufacturers, and bankers interested
themselves in literary productions, as if they belonged to a guild
of learned men, using for them the time that Christian citizens and
workmen passed in drinking.
The first movement was made in Königsberg, a kind of colony to Berlin.
In this town certain men had acquired wealth by their industry and
circumspection, and shared in the culture dawning in Germany under
the influence of French literature. Three brothers named Friedländer
(Bärmann, Meyer, and Wolf) were the leaders. To this family belonged
David Friedländer (born 1750, died 1834), a servile imitator of
Mendelssohn, who by means of his connection by marriage with the
banking-house of Daniel Itzig, obtained influence in Berlin (since
1771), and brought about close intercourse between Berlin and
Königsberg. He also took part in the promotion of the revival among
Jews. It was an event in the history of the Königsberg Jews, when
Mendelssohn stayed there for several days while on a business journey.
He was visited by distinguished persons, professors and authors, and
was treated with extraordinary attention. Immanuel Kant, the profound
thinker, publicly embraced him. This trifling occurrence gave to the
cultured Jews of Königsberg a sort of consciousness that the Jew can by
self-respect command the regard of the ruling classes. Moreover, the
Königsberg University, at the instigation of certain liberal-minded
teachers, especially Kant, admitted Jewish youths thirsting for
knowledge as students and academical citizens. Among these young men,
trained partly on Talmudical, partly on academical lines, there were
two who awakened a new spirit, or rather, continued the quiet activity
of Mendelssohn with greater effect. These were Isaac Abraham Euchel and
Mendel Bresselau, both tutors employed by the wealthy, culture-loving
Friedländers. Isaac Euchel, through Mendelssohn and Wessely, had
acquired a dignified, correct Hebrew style contrasting most favorably
with the corrupt language hitherto employed. His younger companion,
Mendel Bresselau, who afterwards took part in the great contest against
the old school, was of more importance. He was truly an artist in
the Hebrew tongue, and without elaboration or ambiguity he applied
biblical phraseology to modern conditions and circumstances. He took
as his model the poet Moses Chayim Luzzatto, and like him composed
a moral drama, entitled "Youth." Supported by two young members of
the wealthy Friedländer family, Euchel and Bresselau, during the
lifetime of Mendelssohn, and at the time of Wessely's conflict with
the ultra-orthodox (spring, 1783), issued a summons to the whole
Jewish world to establish a society for the promotion of the Hebrew
language (Chebrath Dorshe Leshon Eber), and to found a journal to be
called "The Gatherer" (Meassef). They had reckoned upon the support of
Wessely, already recognized as an authority upon style, and had asked
contributions from him, who, as they expressed themselves, "had taken
down the harps from the willows of Babylon, and had drawn forth new
songs from them." The aged poet gladly joined the young men, but, as if
he had had a foreboding of the ultimate result, he warned them against
turning their darts against Judaism, and in general against employing
satire. Their summons found widespread response. They had chosen the
right means to advance culture, and they satisfied a real want. The
Hebrew language in its purity and chastity could alone accomplish the
union between Judaism and the culture of the day.
"The Gatherer" found most encouragement in Berlin, the capital of
Jewish culture. Here numerous literary contributions and material
support were forthcoming. In this city lived a number of youths
moved by the same aspirations as Euchel and Bresselau, who fostered
enthusiasm for the Hebrew language, and renewed its youth. Not
too proud to enter into rivalry with beginners, Mendelssohn also
contributed a few Hebrew poems anonymously. It is characteristic of
the newly-aroused spirit, that the fine introductory Hebrew verses
in the periodical are represented as being written by a young child
who modestly begs admittance, as if henceforth, not the grey-headed
Eliphaz, but the youthful Elihu was to be spokesman, and lay down
the law. Fresh names appeared in the newly-established organ, and
their owners, under the collective name of Measfim, contributors to
"The Gatherer" (Meassef, first published in the autumn of 1783),
mark a definite tendency, a _Sturm und Drang_ period of neo-Hebraic
literature. Another pair of friends of Euchel and Bresselau afterwards
undertook the editorship; these were Joel Löwe and Aaron Halle, or
Wolfssohn--the one an earnest inquirer, the other a bold iconoclast,
who first verified Wessely's fears, and, in a dialogue between Moses
Maimonides and Moses Mendelssohn, subjected unprogressive Judaism to
scathing criticism.
Two Poles residing in Berlin, Isaac Satanow and Ben-Zeeb, most
accomplished masters of Hebrew style, also belonged to the Measfim,
but their studies in German culture had an injurious effect upon their
moral character. Besides, the small number of contributors to the
"Gatherer" was swelled by Wolf Heidenheim, a strange man, who equally
abhorred the crudeness and folly of the old system, and the frivolity
and sophistry of the new, and banished his ill-humor by pedantically
exact grammatical and Masoretic studies on the lines of the old
masters. By his carefully arranged editions of old writings, if he did
not destroy, he at least curbed, the old habits of slovenliness and
carelessness.
The cultivators of Hebrew stretched out friendly hands to each other
across widely-sundered districts, and formed a kind of brotherhood
which spread to Holland, France, and Italy. David Friedrichsfeld was
also an enthusiast for the Hebrew language and biblical literature. He
possessed such delicate appreciation of the beauties of the language,
that an ill-chosen Hebrew word caused him pain. He constantly insisted
upon pure forms and expressions, and was a cultivated and severe judge.
In his youth, Friedrichsfeld had chosen the better fate, by turning
his back upon Prussia, so cruel to the Jews, and emigrating to the
free city of Amsterdam. He heartily welcomed, with youthful ardor,
the plan for the study of Hebrew, and lived to enjoy the good fortune
of celebrating in Hebrew verse the complete emancipation of the Jews
in Holland. At his proposition, the Jewish poets in Holland joined
the ranks of the Measfim. The most renowned was David Franco Mendes
in Amsterdam (born 1713; died 1792). He was descended from a Marrano
family, was a disciple of the poet Luzzatto when the latter lived in
Amsterdam, and took him as a pattern. A series of occasional poems, in
the form of the Judæo-Spanish poetry of the seventeenth century, had
gained him a name which was increased by his Hebrew historical drama,
"The Punishment of Athalia" (Gemul Athalia). It distressed Franco
Mendes to see how the Jews turned away from Hebrew to the fashionable
French literature, because the latter produced beautiful, artistic
works, whilst the Hebrew language seemed smitten with sterility.
This disgrace Mendes desired to blot out, and, following in the wake
of Racine and Metastasio, he undertook to dramatize the interesting
history of the royal boy Joash who, to be protected from murderous
hands, was brought up secretly in the Temple, and of the downfall of
the bloodthirsty queen Athalia.
In France the Hebrew literature of the Measfim was represented by
Moses Ensheim (Einsheim), or Moses Metz, who for several years was
private tutor to Mendelssohn's children. He was a mathematician of
great repute, whose work has been praised by qualified authorities of
the first rank. Thus he wrote a work upon Integral and Differential
Calculus, which won the applause of Lagrange and Laplace. But he never
published any of his writings. He only gave voice to triumphal songs
in Hebrew upon the victory of freedom over slavery in France, and some
of these were sung in the synagogues. Ensheim influenced an advocate
(Grégoire) of the liberation of his co-religionists in France, and
provided him with material wherewith to defend them. Ensheim formed
a contrast to an older teacher in Mendelssohn's house, Herz Homberg,
a great favorite with Mendelssohn. The latter was deceived in him,
and trusted in him too far when he invited his co-operation in the
Pentateuch translation. Homberg was of a prosaic nature, actuated
wholly by selfish motives, and was somewhat of a place-hunter. Through
Homberg, during his stay in Görz, and Elijah Morpurgo, who corresponded
with Mendelssohn and Wessely, the educational influence of the Measfim
penetrated to Italy; and the younger generation, which afterwards
united with the French Jews, drew inspiration from that source.
In this manner, the Hebrew language and neo-Hebraic poetry became a
bond of union for the Jews of Western Europe, to some extent embracing
also the Jews of Poland, and led the way to an astonishingly swift and
enduring revival. The Hebrew tongue was known to almost all Jews, with
the exception of a few ignorant villagers, and afforded an excellent
medium for propagating European culture. Thousands of youths who
studied the Talmud in various colleges, gradually, for the greater part
secretly, took an active share in the movement, and drank deep draughts
from the stream of innovation. Thus, with the expected deliverance
from political oppression, which had already been realized in various
places, there arose a peculiar excitement and confusion. The old
and the new mingled, forming a kind of a spiritual hotch-potch. The
question was raised whether or not, beside the Talmud, it was allowed
to engage in biblical studies and profane literature, to cultivate
philosophy, and in general to study the sciences (Chochmoth). The
great rabbis, Ezekiel Landau, Raphael Cohen, and others, condemned
such studies, whilst Mendelssohn and Wessely, blamelessly pious men,
not only permitted, but even recommended them for the elevation of
Judaism. Of the old and respected authorities, some permitted them and
even occupied themselves therewith, whilst others prohibited and held
aloof from them, as from some seductive sin. These important questions
presented themselves to thinking Jewish young men, and gave rise to
much disquietude. For the greater number the charm of novelty, the
attractive language of the representatives of the new tendency, or the
inclination to cast off burdensome ritual fetters decided the question.
The number of those interested in the periodical, "The Gatherer,"
increased from year to year. The death of Mendelssohn also exerted a
decided influence. His pupils--as such, all the Measfim regarded
themselves--deified him, glorified him in bright colors, idealized
him and his eventful history in prose and verse, pointed him out as
an ideal worthy of imitation, and turned his renown to advantage in
their cause. They went a step further, or widened the extent of their
activity, aiming not merely at ennobling the Hebrew language, but at
refinement in general. They called themselves "The Society for the Good
and the Noble" (from 1787), without being able to define their purpose.
The all-powerful stream of innovation could not be stemmed by the
adherents of the old school. Unskillfully they attempted to vindicate
the old system, exaggerating the dangers, and thereby losing all
influence.
Thus in almost every large community, there arose a party of the
"Enlightened" or "the Left," which had not yet broken with the old
school, but whose action bordered upon secession. By the ultra-orthodox
they were denounced as heretics, on account of their preference for
pure language and form, both in Hebrew and European literature. This
abusive name hurt them but little, and rather afforded them a certain
amount of satisfaction. The outcome of the work of the Measfim was that
they stirred men's minds, extending their range of observation, and
leading them to ennobling thoughts and acts; but these writers did not
leave any permanent results. Not a single production of the circle
has enduring value. Their best performance was Wessely's swan-song,
which possesses literary, if not artistic worth. Roused perhaps by the
astonishment of Herder, the admirer of ancient Hebrew poetry, that no
poet had celebrated the miracles of the departure from Egypt--whose
center was the sublime prophet Moses--Wessely determined to compose a
neo-Hebraic epic. Animated by the spirit of the prophets, there poured
from his pen smooth, well-rounded, euphonious verses, which unroll
before the eye the grand events that occurred from the cruel bondage in
Egypt till the miraculous passage of the Red Sea and the wanderings in
the wilderness. "Songs of Glory" Wessely called his Hebrew heroic poem,
his Mosaid. In fact his verses and strophes are beautifully arranged
and perfect in form. It is the best work that the school of the Measfim
produced. Wessely's epic was so much admired that two Christian poets,
Hufnagel and Spalding, rendered the first two cantos into German. The
Mosaid is, however, by no means a masterpiece; it lacks the breath of
true poetry, fancy and loftiness of conception. It is merely a history
of the origin of the Israelites transcribed into verse, or, more
correctly, a versified commentary on the Pentateuch. This criticism
holds of the school as a whole; its disciples were good neo-Hebraic
stylists, but as poets their ability was not even mediocre.
The appearance of the "Gatherer" aroused attention in Christian
circles. The old assailant of the Jews, Michaelis, could not remain
silent. Others greeted it as the dawn promising a fair day; it was
in fact daybreak for the Jewish race. What is the distinction of a
cultured people? Next to gentle manners, it consists in taste for
harmonious forms and in the power to produce artistic creations.
This taste and power, lost through external oppression and internal
disorganization, were re-awakened among the Jews by the organ of
the Measfim. To elevate the Jewish race to the rank of the cultured
nations, nothing new was required; it was merely necessary that a
comprehension of the beauties and sublimities of their own literature
be inculcated.
In this period, the Jews owned profound philosophical thinkers, if
not of the first, certainly of the second rank, who in acuteness of
intellect almost surpassed Mendelssohn. Three are especially to be
mentioned, who, though trained in the Mendelssohnian system, soon
recognized its weaknesses, and directed their minds to new paths: these
were Marcus Herz, Solomon Maimon, and Ben-David. The events of their
lives picture on a small scale how the Jewish race as a whole worked
its way from degradation and ignorance to freedom and enlightenment.
Marcus (Mordecai) Herz (born in Berlin, 1747, where he died 1803) was
the son of poor parents, and his father, like Mendelssohn's, supported
himself and his family by copying Hebrew manuscripts. He received his
Talmudical education in the school founded by Ephraim Veitel. Owing to
poverty he was unable in spite of his talents to continue his studies,
but at fifteen years of age was compelled to go to Königsberg as an
apprentice. The desire for knowledge soon withdrew him from business
and led him to the University, as the Albertina at that time admitted
Jewish youths to the medical department. Philosophy, however, exerted
greater attraction upon him. Herz was regarded as being gifted with the
"keen mind peculiar to the Jewish nation." Kant, then at work upon his
monumental system, saw Herz in his audience as often as the medical
professors saw him in theirs. He distinguished him, drew him into the
circle of his intimates, and treated him as his favorite disciple. When
entering upon his professorship, according to an absurd and antiquated
custom Kant had to argue in public upon a philosophical subject, and
found no one better fitted than Herz to act as his assistant. Several
University representatives objected that a Jewish student, however
talented and superior to his Christian companions, should be allowed
equal privileges with them. Kant, however, insisted upon his demand.
Pressed by pecuniary difficulties, and because a Jew could not receive
the degree at the Königsberg University, Herz returned to his native
town and joined Mendelssohn's circle. He was, however, an advocate
of the Kantian philosophy. He became at the same time a skilled
physician, and practiced his art with conscientiousness and zeal. By
his marriage with Henrietta de Lemos, he secured a large practice
and numerous acquaintances as assistant-physician to his Portuguese
father-in-law; and through his incisive wit and versatile knowledge he
became a noted personage in the Prussian capital. When he delivered
philosophical lectures upon the Kantian philosophy, still new and but
little understood, many distinguished men were among his auditors. Had
not progress been great, if notabilities sat at the feet of a Jew to
hear his instruction upon the highest truths, whilst men like Michaelis
roundly denied all possibility of culture in the Jews? Herz afterwards
delivered discourses upon physics, and illustrated the marvellous laws
of nature by experimental demonstration. These lectures were still
more crowded; even the Crown Prince (afterwards King Frederick William
III) and other princes did not disdain to enter the house of a Jew and
be taught by him. His philosophical lucidity, acquired from Kant and
Mendelssohn, contributed towards rendering his lectures upon medicine,
as well as upon other subjects, enjoyable and appreciated. Herz was
not, however, an independent thinker, able to illumine the dark ways
of human knowledge by brilliant ideas; but he succeeded in explaining
the profound thoughts of others and in making them intelligible to the
average mind. Through his personality and his social position, Herz
deeply influenced not alone the culture of Berlin Jews, but also of
Christian circles.
Of the remarkable capacity of Jews for culture, Solomon Maimon was a
still more striking example. This Pole, whose real name was Solomon
of Lithuania, or of Nieszwiez (born about 1753, died 1800), rose
from the thickest cloud of Polish ignorance to pure philosophical
knowledge, attaining this height by his unaided efforts, but owing to
his scepticism, he fell a prey to shocking errors. The story of his
life is full of travel and restlessness, and is a good example of the
versatility of Jews.
As in the case of Mendelssohn, Maimuni's philosophical religious
work, "The Guide of the Perplexed" (More Nebuchim), was the cause of
Solomon's intellectual awakening. He read the book until it became part
of him, consequently assumed the name of Maimon, swore by the name of
the Jewish sage whenever evil desire prompted him to sin, and conquered
by its aid. But whereas Mendelssohn reached the right way through
Maimuni, Solomon Maimon was led into error, doubt, and unbelief, and to
the end of his life lived an aimless existence. In despair he snatched
at the Kabbala, wishing to become a Jewish Faust, to conjure up spirits
who would obtain deep wisdom for him; he also made a pilgrimage to the
leader of the Chassidim, Beer of Mizricz. But the deception practiced
disgusted him, and he quickly turned away from him. But what was
he, with his spirit of scepticism, to do in a narrow world of rigid
orthodoxy? Continually play the hypocrite? Rumor had carried a report
to Poland, that in certain towns of Germany a freer religious system
prevailed, and that more scope for philosophical inquiry was given. At
this period a Pole felt no scruples in forsaking wife, children, and
home, and wandering abroad. It cost Maimon the less effort, seeing that
his wife had been thrust upon him when he was a child, and it was to
his vexation that children were born to him. To appease his conscience
he deceived himself by the pretext that he would study medicine in
Germany, and be enabled to maintain himself and his family.
Thus Maimon left Lithuania (spring, 1777), at the age of twenty-five,
"with a heavy, dirty beard, in torn, filthy clothes, his language a
jargon composed of fragments of Hebrew, Judæo-German, and Polish,
together with grammatical errors," as he himself says, and in this
guise he introduced himself to some educated Jews in Königsberg, saying
that he desired to devote himself to science. In this ragged Pole was
a brain full of profound thoughts, which, as he grew older, developed
into maturity. His journey from Königsberg to Berlin by way of Stettin
was a succession of pitiful troubles. In Berlin the authorities refused
to grant him residence. Those Poles who had severed themselves from the
Talmud, and devoted themselves to science, lived in the odor of the
worst heresy, and often gave occasion to suspicion. Maimon was sincere
enough to admit the justice of this opinion. A moral life, activity
of any kind, participation in the work of mankind, utilization of
talent in the conquest of nature, man's liberation from the shackles
of self-interest, the awakening of his moral impulse to act for the
welfare of his brethren, the realization of the heavenly kingdom of
justice and beneficent love--of all these ideals Maimon had no
appreciation. These were indifferent matters, with which a thinker
need not trouble himself. In this unsound state of mind he shunned
all active work; to meditate idly and draw up formulas were his chief
occupations. He attained no fixed goal in life, but staggered from
folly to folly, from misery to misery.
To the general public he was first known through his "Autobiography,"
wherein he revealed the weak points of the Polish Jews, to him the
only representatives of Judaism, as well as his own, with unsparing,
cynical severity, as some years previously Rousseau had done in
his "Confessions." He thereby performed an evil service for his
co-religionists. His opinions concerning his brethren, originating
in ill-humor, were accepted to their detriment as universal
characteristics; and what he depicted as hateful in the Polish Jews was
attributed to all Jews.
This kind of confession was considered extraordinary, and aroused
great attention, in stiff, pedantic Germany. The "Autobiography" found
its way into numerous circles, and gained many readers. The two great
German poets, Schiller and Goethe, were absurdly fond of the cynical
philosopher; and Goethe expressed the wish to have him live near him.
His fame made Maimon neither better nor happier, and he did honor
to the Jewish race only with his mental powers; in his actions he
altogether dishonored it.
The third Jewish thinker of this time, Lazarus Ben-David (born in
Berlin 1762; died there 1832), had neither the tragic nor the comic
history of Maimon. He was a prosaic, pedantic personality, who in any
German university could have filled the chair of logic and mathematics,
and year after year given the same instruction unabridged and
unincreased. For the philosophy of Kant, however, Ben-David possessed
ardor and enthusiastic devotion, because he recognized it as the truth,
and faithfully conformed to its moral principles. This philosophy was
well suited to Jews, because it demanded high power of thought and
moral action. For this reason Kant, like Aristotle in former days, had
many Jewish admirers and disciples. Ben-David was also learned in the
Talmud, and a good mathematician. It was perhaps a mistake on his part
to go to Vienna to lecture upon the Kantian philosophy. At first the
University permitted his discourses in its halls,--a Jew lecturing on
a philosophy which denied the right of Catholicism to exist! He soon
however had to discontinue them; but Count Harrach offered him his
palace as a lecture-room. Meeting with obstacles here, too, he left the
imperial city, continued his discourses in Berlin, and for some time
acted as editor of a journal. Ben-David produced but little impression
upon the course of Jewish history.
The German Jews, however, under Mendelssohn's inspiration, not only
elevated themselves with great rapidity to the height of culture, but
unmistakably promoted the spread of culture in Christian circles.
Intellectual Jews and Jewesses created in Berlin that cultured public
tone which has become the distinction of this capital, and has
influenced the whole of Germany. Jews and Jewesses were the first to
found a salon for intellectual intercourse, in which the elements of
elevated thought, taste, poetry, and criticism mingled together in a
graceful, light way, and were discussed, and made accessible to men
of different vocations. The Christian populace of Berlin at the time
of Frederick the Great and his successor greatly resembled that of a
petty town. The nobility and high dignitaries were too aristocratic
and uneducated to trouble themselves about intellectual and social
affairs and the outside world. For them the court and the petty events
of everyday life were the world. The learned formed an exclusive
guild, and there was no high or wealthy class of burghers. The middle
classes followed the narrow path of their old-fashioned German fathers;
met, if at all, over the beer-jug, and were continually engaged in
repeating stories of "old Fritz's victories." Particularly, the women
lived modestly within their four walls, or occupied themselves wholly
with the concerns of their family circles. With the Jews of Berlin
it was entirely different. All, or most of them, had been more or
less engaged with the Talmud in their youth; their mental powers were
acute, and susceptible to fresh influences. These new elements of
culture Mendelssohn gave them through his Bible translation, and his
philosophical and æsthetic writings. In Jewish circles, knowledge
procured more distinction than riches; the ignorant man, however
wealthy, was held up as a butt for contempt. Every Jew, whatever his
means, prided himself on possessing a collection of old and new books,
and, when possible, sought to know their contents, so that he might
not be wanting in conversation. Every well-informed Jew lived in two
worlds, that of business, and that of books. In consequence of the
impulse given by Mendelssohn, the younger generation occupied itself
with _belles-lettres_, language, and philosophy. The subjects of
study had changed, but the yearning for knowledge remained, or became
still stronger. Amongst the Jews of Berlin, shortly after the death
of Mendelssohn, were more than a hundred young men burning with zeal
for knowledge and culture, from whose midst the contributors to the
periodical "Ha-Meassef" were supplied.
To this honest inclination for study, there was added a fashionable
folly. Through Frederick the Great, French literature became
acclimatized in Prussia, and Jews were especially attracted by the
sparkling intellectuality of French wit. Voltaire had more admirers
in the tents of Jacob than in German houses. Jewish youths ravenously
flung themselves upon French literature, and acquired its forms;
French frivolity naturally made its entry at the same time. The
clever daughters of Israel also ardently devoted themselves to this
fashionable folly; they learned French, at first, to be sure, for the
purpose of conversing in the fashionable language with the youthful
cavaliers who borrowed money from their fathers. It was one more
ornament with which to deck themselves. Through the influence of
Mendelssohn and Lessing, such trifling gave way to earnest endeavors
for the acquisition of solid knowledge, in order that they might occupy
an equally exalted footing with the men. Mendelssohn's daughters, who
were continually in the society of cultivated men, led the way, and
stirred up emulation. In no town of Germany were there so many cultured
Jewish women as in Berlin, for they learned easily, were industrious,
and altogether superior to their Christian sisters in knowledge of
literature.
Mendelssohn's house became the center for scientific and literary
intercourse, and was the more frequented as his friends might expect
to meet distinguished strangers there who were attracted by his
wide-spread renown, and from whom something new might be learned. His
daughters were admitted to this witty and charming society, to which
they also introduced their young companions. After Mendelssohn's death
David Friedländer and Marcus Herz took his place. Friedländer was,
however, too stiff and plain to exercise attraction. Thus Herz's house
became headquarters for Mendelssohn's friends, who became the nucleus
of a large circle. Herz was a popular physician, and had numerous
acquaintances among distinguished Jewish and Christian families.
His lectures attracted people of every rank to his house, and those
eager for knowledge were admitted into the intimacy of the family
circle. Herz was gifted with caustic wit, with which he seasoned the
conversation. But more powerful than his science and his genius was the
influence of his wife. Hers was a magic circle, into which every native
or foreign personage of importance in Berlin was magnetically drawn.
Intercourse with the beautiful and gifted Jewess Henrietta Herz was,
next to the court circle, the most sought after in Berlin. Had she not
been misled by seductive influences, she might have been a source of
rich blessings to Judaism.
This beautiful woman, then, made her house the gathering-place of
the select society of Berlin, and illustrious strangers pressed for
the honor of an introduction to her. Here the Christian friends of
Mendelssohn, already accustomed to intercourse with Jews, mingled
freely with cultured Jews, but also new men, who filled high positions,
and diplomatists were to be met there. Mirabeau, in whose mind the
storm-charged clouds of the Revolution were already forming, and to
whom the Jews owed so much, during his secret diplomatic embassy (1786)
to Berlin was more in the society of Henrietta Herz than in that of her
husband. Gradually ladies of high degree and education also entered
into relations with Madame Herz and her friends, attracted by the charm
of refined, social communion. But her salon exercised most powerful
attraction upon cultured Christian youths, by reason of its beautiful
Jewish damsels and ladies, the satellites of the fair hostess. These
Jewish beauties, however, did not merely form the ornament of the
salon, but took an active part in the intellectual entertainment, and
distinguished themselves by their originality. Gentz called them "the
clever women of Jewry." Among them were two who shone by superior
intellectual qualities, and combined modern culture with Jewish
keenness of mind and wit: Mendelssohn's eldest daughter Dorothea, and
Rachel Levin, afterwards the wife of Varnhagen von Ense. Both possessed
eminent talents, in addition to which Rachel Levin had an inflexible
love for truth, united with gentleness and amiability.
Almost at the same time a brilliant salon, where authors, artists,
nobles, and diplomatists, native and foreign, came together, was opened
in Vienna, by a Berlin Jewess, Fanny Itzig, daughter of the banker
Daniel Itzig. She was witty, amiable and noble, and was married to
Nathan Adam von Arnstein, who had been made a baron. Like her friends
in Berlin she brought about the social intermingling of Jews with
Christians in Vienna. These Jewish coteries most triumphantly refuted
the foolish remark of the insolent scholar of Göttingen, "that gypsies
would sooner undergo the transformation into a people than Jews." The
prejudice of a thousand years was blown away with one breath more
effectually than by a hundred learned or eloquent disquisitions.
The social equalization of the Jews in cultivated circles of Prussia
caused them to hope, if not for complete civil rights, at least for a
lightening of the oppressive taxes and the humiliations imposed upon
them. Between the social position of cultured Jews and their legal
standing there was a deep chasm. In the burgher classes, the Jews of
Berlin were the first millionaires--no indifferent matter considering
the important place held by money at that time--yet, according to
the law, they were treated like peddlers. Humane treatment could not
be expected from the philosophical king. Dohm's apology for the Jews
did not exist for him. Hope was aroused among the Berlin Jews on the
accession of Frederick William II, who was of a weak but kindly nature.
Urged on by David Friedländer, who, the successor of Mendelssohn, was
at the same time considered the representative of Jewish interests, the
chiefs and elders of the Berlin community presented a petition for the
abolition of the Jewish poll-tax, the repeal of barbarous laws against
the Jews, and the concession of freedom of movement. They received
a favorable reply, directing them to "choose honest men from their
midst," with whom the government might negotiate. Their proposal to
select delegates from amongst the Jews in the provinces was assented
to, and a commission was established to investigate the complaints
of the Prussian Jews and make suggestions for improvement. As general
deputies of the Jews there were selected Friedländer and his rich
father-in-law, Daniel Itzig, who, with great independence and courage,
laid bare the barbarous and venal legislation of Frederick the Great in
reference to the Jews.
The deputies drew up a list of the imposts extorted from the Jews,
bearing ridiculous titles; for instance, the exportation of porcelain,
which bound them to purchase articles of the worst quality for an
exorbitant price (called in mockery "Jews' porcelain") from the royal
manufactory and to sell them abroad; and taxes for the support of
manufactories for caps, stockings, pocket-handkerchiefs, and veils.
They pointed out burdensome restrictions, how in courts of justice
they were not treated as the equals of Christian suitors, and they
especially complained of the responsibility laid upon all for each,
and boldly demanded complete equalization, not mere permission to
engage in agriculture and trades, but also to fill public offices
and university chairs (May, 1787). The expectations of the Jews of
Berlin and Prussia were however baffled. Only the law to deal in
bad porcelain was annulled for a sum of four thousand thalers. The
degrading body-tax was also repealed for native Jews journeying from
province to province, and for strangers when frequenting the fair at
Frankfort-on-the-Oder (December, 1787; July, 1788.) This release from
slavery had been effected by Joseph II and by Louis XVI of France
several years previously. The high officials therefore advised the
abolition of the Jewish poll-tax from shame. But the gain was not
great, for, as Prussian Jews had to prove themselves such at every
public gate, the stigma was not removed. The ultimate result of the
petition of the Jewish deputies was lamentable. What was given with
one hand, was taken away with the other. It redounds to the honor
of the deputies that they frankly rejected the paltry, narrow-minded
concessions, remarking, "The intended favors are below our expectation,
and hardly accord with the joyful hopes entertained at the accession
of the king." They declared that they were not empowered to accept the
reforms offered, "which contain few advantages and many restrictions,"
especially as regarded the enlistment of common soldiers. Only certain
individual Jews received exceptional equalization of rights. Orders
were given that in official acts they should not be treated as Jews.
Otherwise everything continued as of old, only slight relief being
given to the Jews in Silesia.
Thus a nucleus for the elevation of the Jewish race was formed in the
Berlin community, and their efforts were encouraged, if not by the
state, at least by public opinion. In two ways their action influenced
a wider circle--through the Free School (Chinuch Nearim), and the
printing establishment connected with it. The Free School, conducted
by David Friedländer and his brother-in-law, Itzig Daniel Itzig, was
not managed according to Wessely's ideal plan. The curriculum was
composed mainly of the subjects of a general education, and gradually
everything Jewish (Hebrew, the Bible, the Talmud) was crowded out.
In ten years (1781-1791) over five hundred well-taught pupils were
graduated from the school--apostles of the Berlin spirit, who spread
its influence in all directions. It became a model school for German
and other communities. With similar ends in view the printing-press
sent into the Ghettos a large number of instructive works in Hebrew and
German. The spirit engendered thereby was at first one of scepticism,
of superficial enlightenment. Its aim was to eradicate from Jewish
life and manners everything that offended cultured taste or made the
Jews objects of derision, but it included in its attack whatever
did not at once recommend itself to the sober-minded, and so tended
to obliterate everything that recalled the great events of the past,
and that caused the Jews to appear as a separate race in the eyes of
Christians. The dearest ambition of the advocates of this movement was
to resemble Christians in every respect. "Enlightenment, Culture" were
their passwords, the idols of their worship, to which they sacrificed
everything. Mendelssohn had left no disciple of any importance able
to recognize the great truths of Judaism, and bring them into accord
with culture. Men like Euchel, Löwe, Friedländer, Herz, and almost
all the Measfim, possessed mediocre minds and limited views; they
were unable to scatter abroad fruit-bearing germs of thought. Despite
their enthusiasm for Mendelssohn, they did not appreciate the essence
of his nature, and thought that he was still in their midst, when
they had long forsaken him. Even his own children, not excepting his
accomplished daughters, misunderstood him; and this misconception
resulted in great confusion.
With every step forward taken by the Berlin school of enlightenment,
it became more opposed to the main body of Judaism, vexing its
susceptibilities, and thereby frustrating its own efficacy.
Misunderstandings, bitter feelings, friction, and strife were the
direct consequences.
The ultra-orthodox party, however, numbered still fewer men of
importance than the advanced school. The most eminent leader among
them, or the one regarded as such, Ezekiel Landau, in Prague, had not
the slightest sympathy with the new tendency, but thoughtlessly clung
to every usage however unjustifiable, and thereby injured the cause he
represented. He had only condemnation and denunciation as heretics for
those who withdrew from the well-trodden path.
Owing to the friction between the progressive and the orthodox
parties, both of whom exceeded all proper bounds, an exciting quarrel
sprang up in the Berlin community. Young men--private tutors,
merchants' apprentices, the sons of the rich, and fashionable
youths--boasted a frivolous philosophy, and proudly despised their
hoary religion, considering everything that interfered with their
pleasures as superstition, prejudice, and Rabbinical folly. The
adherents of the old views therefore grew the more tenacious, and held
to everything that bore a religious stamp. As the orthodox communal
leaders still had the upper hand in the benevolent institutions,
they refused support to the partisans of enlightenment, especially
to strangers, would not admit their sick into the Jewish hospital,
and denied the dead honorable burial. In short all the phenomena that
usually accompany religious party conflicts appeared. Those without
families, among whom were two prominent Measfim, Euchel and Wolfssohn,
determined to unite together so as not to stand isolated against the
orthodox party. They desired to form a union for the protection of
its members. Mendelssohn's eldest son, Joseph, was very zealous in
promoting such a union, and on the strength of his name it met with
abundant encouragement. Thus the "Society of Friends" was formed
(1792), a community of _illuminati_ within the community, comprising
solely unmarried men, whose chief aim was to regard each other as
brothers, and to support each other in distress and illness; but their
collateral intention was to spread culture and promote enlightenment.
The "Friends" took a saying of Mendelssohn as their motto, "To seek for
truth, to love the beautiful, to desire the good, to do the best." A
bundle of staves was their symbol. In the first year of its existence,
the union numbered more than a hundred members in the capital. Young
men in Königsberg, Breslau, and Vienna, joined the ranks. A bond of
cordial brotherhood held the members together, and to the present
day, a fraternal feeling of delicate benevolence has survived in the
Society. But it was a morbid symptom. The Society floated in the air
without a firm basis; it had roots neither in its own midst, nor in
Judaism, nor did it attach itself to any great political ideal. It
aimed at bodily welfare and quietude, as if civilized men could live by
bread only: the catchwords and phrases of culture and enlightenment did
not avail much. The struggle against the old régime was but weak; all
that they succeeded in doing was to keep their deceased friends longer
above ground. In short, the "Society of Friends" lacked the leaven of
inspiration, the only quality which ultimately bears fruit.
If the members of this Society took up no firm attitude, those who
never knew an ideal, nor even a dreamy striving, the commonplace men
who were mere slaves, and sought their whole happiness in mixing with
Christians, acted yet more culpably. The old system had no charms for
them, and the new one no tangible form to attract them. The example
of the court and high circles of society exercised an evil influence
also upon the Jews of the large towns of Prussia. "Under Frederick
William II," as Mirabeau remarks from his own observation, "Prussia had
fallen into a condition of rottenness, before having attained the stage
of maturity." Jewish youths of wealthy houses followed the general
inclination to sensual pleasures. Not secretly, but openly in the light
of day, they over-leapt all bounds, and with contempt of Judaism united
contempt for chastity and morality. They aped other apes. Earnest men,
such as David Friedländer, Lazarus Ben-David, and Saul Asher, deplored
the decay of morality among the Jews, without noticing that their own
shallow desire for enlightenment had contributed to it.
"Vices have spread in our midst, which our fathers knew not,
and which at any price have been bought too dearly. Irreligion,
voluptuousness, and effeminacy, weeds that spring from the
misuse of enlightenment and culture, have alas! taken root
amongst us, and especially in the principal towns we are
exposed to the danger that the stream of luxury along with our
boorishness is sweeping away our severe and simple morals."
Having broken loose from the bond of a national religion existing for
thousands of years, superficial reasoners and profligates passed over
to Christianity in a body. "They were like moths, fluttering around
the flame, till they were consumed." Of what use was it to be galled
by the fetters of the "general privilege," of what use to continue to
bear the disgrace of being "protected" Jews, if by the repetition of
an empty formula they could become equal to the Christians! So they
washed away the mark of the yoke and its shame with the waters of
baptism. The congregations of Berlin, Breslau, and Königsberg beheld
daily the apostasy of their members, of the richest and outwardly the
most cultured people. It appeared as if the words of the prophet would
be verified, "I will leave in the midst of thee an afflicted and poor
people." It must be considered a miracle that the entire Jewish party
of enlightenment in Germany did not abjure Judaism. Three invisible
powers kept them from following _en masse_ the example of treachery
and apostasy: deep aversion to the dogma of Divine Incarnation,
indestructible attachment to their families and to their great past of
thousands of years, and love for the Hebrew language and literature.
Without suspecting it, they felt themselves united as a nation, a link
in the long chain of the history of the Jewish race, and they could
not persuade themselves to separate from it. The revival of Hebrew
through the Measfim had had beneficial influence in this direction.
Whoever could comprehend the beauties and elevated thoughts of biblical
literature, and could imitate the language, remained a Jew in spite of
secret doubts, degradation, and disgrace. Thus Mendelssohn provided the
new generation both with a poison and its antidote.
David Friedländer alone proved an exception to this rule. Neither
Jewish antiquity, nor Hebrew poetry, nor family ties, had power to keep
him loyal to his banner, even with half-hearted devotion. The tearing
asunder of all family connections, the casting aside of the duties of
the religious brotherhood, did indeed oppress him. Nevertheless, he
proceeded to sever himself from the Jewish community and to desert to
the hostile camp. He had striven to obtain for himself and his whole
family an exceptional naturalization with all its rights and duties,
but had not succeeded. This pained him, and instead of hiding his
annoyance in the pride of ancestry and martyrdom, instead of working on
behalf of his co-religionists so as to surpass the haughty Christians,
he coveted the honor of joining them. Friedländer, however, did not
desire to effect this desertion alone or absolutely. He therefore,
together with other fathers of families similarly disposed, in a
cowardly manner directed a letter, without mentioning either himself
or others by name, to the chief consistorial councilor Teller, who
was on friendly terms with Jews. This letter expressed their desire
for conversion and baptism, under the condition that they might be
excused from believing in Jesus, and from participating in the rites
of the church, or that at least they might be allowed to explain
Christian dogmas in their own manner--a suggestion equally silly
and dishonorable. Friedländer could not deny that, among the Jews,
"virtue was general, benevolence inherent, parental and filial love,
and the sanctity of marriage deeply rooted, self-sacrifice for the
sake of others frequent; and that, on the other hand, gross crimes--
murder, robbery, and outrage--were rare." But this bright side of
their servile state seemed to him only a secondary matter. Therefore,
in this foolish letter, he libeled his people and its past, called the
Talmud (that mental tonic) mysticism, spoke in illogical confusion now
of the harmful character, now of the utility of the ritual laws of
Judaism, and sketched the development of Jewish history in a way not to
be excelled for perversity.
Teller disposed of the Jewish fathers who craved a Christianity
without Jesus politely, but decisively, as they deserved. They might
remain what they were, for Christianity had no desire for such infidel
believers. Friedländer had met with an ignominious experience; he
remained a Jew, but his children pressed forward to be baptized without
conditions or qualifications. His letter however aroused more attention
than it deserved.
If the German Jews, especially those of Berlin, through their
intercourse with Christian society, and their interest in literature,
gained in external conduct, in forms of politeness, and social
manners--advantages not to be underrated--they lost something
for which there was no compensation. The chastity of Jewish women
and maidens during their isolation had been of inviolable sanctity;
the happiness of family life rested upon this precious basis. Jewish
women were seldom married for love--the Ghetto was not the place for
the dallyings of love--but after marriage duty induced love. This
sanctuary, the pride of Israel, which filled earnest Christians with
admiration, and led them highly to esteem the Jews, became dishonored
by their association with Christians of the corrupt higher ranks.
If the enemies of the Jews had designed to break the power of Israel,
they could have discovered no more effectual means than infecting
Jewish women with moral depravity, a plan more efficacious than that
employed by the Midianites, who weakened the men by immorality. The
salon of the beautiful Henrietta Herz became a sort of Midianite tent.
Here a number of young Jewish women assembled, whose husbands were kept
away by their business. The most prominent male member of this circle
was Frederick von Gentz, the embodiment of selfishness, licentiousness,
vice, and depravity, whose chief occupation was the betrayal of women.
Henrietta Herz was the first to be confused and led astray by homage
to her beauty. It was the time when German romanticism, the product
of Goethe's muse, began to act upon the minds of men, urging them
to translate lyrical emotions into reality, and transfigure life
poetically. This romantic tendency resulted in fostering sentimentality
and in infamous marriages which were contracted and dissolved at
pleasure. A so-called Band of Virtue (Tugend-Bund) was formed, of which
Henrietta Herz, two daughters of Mendelssohn, and other Jewesses,
together with Christian profligates, were members. The Jewish women
felt themselves exalted and honored by their close intimacy with
Christians of rank; they did not see the fanged serpent beneath the
flowers. With William von Humboldt, an ardent youth, afterwards
a Prussian minister, Henrietta secretly maintained an amatory
correspondence behind her husband's back.
When William von Humboldt married, and forgot Henrietta, who had been
misled by her vanity, she entered into an ambiguous relation with
Schleiermacher, the modern apostle of the new Christianity. Their
conspicuous intimacy was mocked at by acquaintances, even more than by
strangers. Both parties denied somewhat too anxiously the criminality
of their intimate intercourse. Whether true or not, it was disgrace
enough that evil tongues should even suspect the honor of a Jewish
matron of good family.
Schleiermacher's companion was Frederick Schlegel, who stormed heaven
with childish strength,--a chameleon in sentiments and views,
enthusiastic now for the republic, now for monarchical despotism,
who conjured up the specters and evil spirits of the Middle Ages.
Introduced into the salon of Herz, he became the bosom friend of
Schleiermacher, and at once resolved to seduce Dorothea Mendelssohn.
Her father had died with the knowledge that she was joined in happy
wedlock to the banker Simon Veit Witzenhausen. Her husband surrounded
her with marks of attention and love. Two children were the issue
of this marriage. Nevertheless, she allowed herself to be led into
faithlessness by the treacherous voice of the romantic Schlegel. It
was the fashion in this society to complain about being misunderstood
and the discord of souls. The immoral teachings of Goethe's elective
affinities had already taken root in Jewish families. The thought
of parting from her husband and children did not restrain Dorothea
from going astray, and Henrietta Herz acted as go-between. Dorothea
therefore left her husband, and lived with Schlegel, at first in
unlawful union. All the world was astounded at this immorality, which
dragged Mendelssohn's honorable name in the mud. Doctor Herz forbade
his wife to hold intercourse with this depraved woman. But she herself
was at heart an adulteress, and informed her husband that she would not
forsake her friend. Schleiermacher, the preacher, also took but little
offense at this dissolute conduct. Dorothea followed her romantic
betrayer from one folly to another, was baptized as a Protestant, and
finally, together with him, became converted to Catholicism. It was
a lamentable sight when Mendelssohn's daughter kissed the toe of the
pope. The younger sister, Henrietta Mendelssohn, was not handsome
enough to enthrall the libertines of the salon. It suffices to indicate
her bent of mind to say that she also went over to Catholicism. The
consequence of this internal corruption was to render the participators
out of sorts with life.
Rachel Levin, another high-spirited woman, was too clever to take
part in the frivolity of the Band of Virtue. She desired to pursue
her own way. But her wisdom and clear mind did not secure her against
the contamination of immorality. In one respect she was superior to
her sinful Jewish sisters; she was truthful, and wore no mask. When
Rachel first made the acquaintance of the heroic but dissolute Prince
Louis Ferdinand, she undertook to teach him "garret-truths"; but she
rather learned from him the follies of the palace. Herself unmarried,
she consented to become the intermediary between him and the abandoned
Pauline Wiesel. Rachel Levin, or, as she was also called, Rachel
Robert, in whose veins flowed Talmudic blood, which endowed her with
a bright and active mind, and enabled her to penetrate to the very
foundation of things, and pursue the soul and its varying instincts in
their subtlest manifestations, ignored her own origin. She desired to
distinguish the breath of God in the mutations of history, yet had no
appreciation of the greatness of her race. She despised it, considering
it the greatest shame and her worst misfortune to have been born a
Jewess. Only in the hour of death did a faint suspicion of the great
importance of Judaism and the Jews cross her mind.
"With exalted delight I meditate upon my origin and the web of
history, through which the oldest reminiscences of the human
race are united with present affairs, despite distance of
time and space. I, a fugitive from Egypt, am here, and find
assistance. What all my life I considered my greatest disgrace,
I now would not give up for any price."
But even in that hour her mind did not see clearly, her thoughts were
disordered, and she exhausted herself in fantastic dreams.
These talented but sinful Jewish women did Judaism a service by
becoming Christians. Mendelssohn's daughters and Rachel were converted
publicly, while Henrietta Herz, who had more regard for appearances,
received baptism in a small town to avoid hurting her Jewish friends,
and took this step only after her mother's death.
Schleiermacher again inoculated the cultivated classes in Germany
with a peculiar, scarcely definable, antipathy to Judaism. He was in
no way a Jew-baiter, in the usual sense of the term, and indignantly
protested against being called so; but his mind was agitated with a
vague, disagreeable feeling towards the Jews, from which he could not
escape. When Friedländer's foolish letter on the admission of certain
families into Christianity divested of the dogma of the Trinity, was
published, Schleiermacher expressed himself adverse to their admission.
The state might concede to the Jews the rights of citizenship, but
should tolerate them only as a special sect, inasmuch as they would
not surrender their hope in the Messiah. It was quite in accordance
with his romantic neo-Christianity, that from ignorance and confusion
he depicted Judaism as a mummy "around which its sons sit moaning and
weeping." He would not even acknowledge Judaism as the forerunner
of Christianity. "I detest this sort of historical relationship in
religion." Hitherto, Christendom had been conscious of a certain
connection with Judaism, and the Old Testament, the Bible, had been the
common ground upon which the insolent daughter and the enslaved mother
met, and for the moment forgot their hatred. To this connection, or its
recognition, the Jews owed their salvation in the sad days of excess
of Christian faith, or they would have been altogether annihilated in
Europe. The papacy protected them, "because the Saviour had come from
their midst." This bond Schleiermacher destroyed at a breath. To have
anything in common with the Jews enraged him. But were not Jesus, the
Apostles, and the early Fathers of the Church, Jews? Schleiermacher
would willingly have denied this fact, if he could possibly have done
it; but as this was impracticable, he enshrouded it in mystery.
"What? we are to believe that Jesus was only a Jewish Rabbi,
with philanthropic sentiments, and some Socratic morality;
with certain miracles, or at least what some consider as such,
and with the talent of composing neat riddles and parables--
some follies will even then have to be forgiven him, according
to the first three Evangelists; and such a man could have
established a new religion and a Church--a man who cannot be
compared with Moses and Mahomet?"
This fact Schleiermacher could not tolerate; for in such case, not only
Moses the prophet, but also Moses Mendelssohn, the sage of Berlin,
would have been greater. Therefore Schleiermacher removed his Jesus far
away from Judaism; he had only had the accident of birth in common with
the Jews, but he was superhuman, and still a man, "whose consciousness
of God may properly be called existence of God within him," as it is
expressed in this mystic, extravagant, romantic teaching, which thus
took its own chief under its protection. Schleiermacher's sermons were
filled with this kind of word-juggling, to which the Berlin Jews,
especially the women, listened as devoutly as their ancestors to the
lying tricks of the false prophets. The school of Schleiermacher, which
became the leading influence in Germany, made this intense contempt of
Judaism its password and the basis of its orthodoxy.
At the same time, another romanticist, Chateaubriand, invented new,
flimsy supports for Christianity, which was in ruins and almost
forgotten in France. Even though he traced the origin of the arts,
music, painting, architecture, eloquence, and poetry, to Christianity,
he, at least, did not deny a share in these merits to Judaism, though
only with the intention of claiming for Christianity the noblest
features in Hebrew literature and history. "There are only two bright
names and memories in history, those of the Israelites and the
Pelasgians (Greeks)." When Chateaubriand desired to prove his assertion
that the poetry of nature is the invention of Christianity, he cited
as examples the beautiful descriptions in Job, in the Prophets, and
the Psalms, to whose poetry the works of Pindar and Horace were much
inferior. Chateaubriand gathered the flowers of Hebrew poetry to
weave a beautiful garland for his crucified god. But he did not, like
Schleiermacher, crush Judaism into the dust by denying the paternity of
the child grown to be so powerful.
A new Judæophobia sprang from the neo-Christian school, which, as its
originators obtained political influence, grew much stronger than
that of old orthodox Christianity. It is remarkable that the twofold
reaction, that of the Church, brought about by Schleiermacher, and
that of the political world, which is connected with Gentz, had its
rise in the Judæo-Christian salon in Berlin. But in the same year when
the effeminate Schleiermacher, in his romantic delineation of himself,
calumniated Judaism by describing it as a mummy, there arose a man,
a hero, a giant in comparison with these wretched dwarfs, who issued
a summons for the Jews to gather round his standard. He wished to
conquer the Holy Land of their fathers for them, and, a second Cyrus,
to rebuild their Temple. The freedom which the Berlin Jews desired to
attain by the surrender of their peculiarities, and by humiliation
before the Church, they now obtained through France, without paying
this price and without disgraceful bargaining.