A brief Exposition of the Jewish Religion, from its Origin down to the most recent Times.
To render intelligible that part of the story of my life, which refers to my sentiments regarding religion, I must first give in advance a short practical history of the Jewish religion, and at the outset say something of the idea of religion in general, as well as of the difference between natural and positive religion.
Religion in general is the expression of gratitude, reverence and the other feelings, which arise from the dependence of our weal and woe on one or more powers to us unknown. If we look to the expression of these feelings in general, without regard to the particular mode of the expression, religion is certainly natural to man. He observes many effects which are of interest to him, but whose causes are to him unknown; and he finds himself compelled, by the universally recognised Principle of Sufficient Reason, to suppose these causes, and to express towards them the feelings mentioned.
This expression may be of two kinds, in conformity either with the imagination or with reason. For either man imagines the causes to be analogous to the effects, and ascribes to them in themselves such attributes as are revealed through the effects, or he thinks them merely as causes of certain effects, without seeking thereby to determine their attributes in themselves. These two modes are both natural to man, the former being in accordance with his earlier condition, the latter with that of his perfection.
The difference between these two modes of representation has as its consequence another difference of religions. The first mode of representation, in accordance with which the causes are supposed to be similar to the effects, is the mother of polytheism or heathenism. But the second is the basis of true religion. For as the kinds of effects are different, the causes also, if held to be like them, must be represented as different from one another. On the other hand, if, in accordance with truth, we conceive the idea of cause in general for these effects, without seeking to determine this cause, either in itself (since it is wholly unknown), or analogically by help of the imagination, then we have no ground for supposing several causes, but require to assume merely a single subject, wholly unknown, as cause of all these effects.
The different philosophical systems of theology are nothing but detailed developments of these different modes of representation. The atheistic system of theology, if so it may be called, rejects altogether this idea of a first cause, (as, according to the critical system at least, it is merely of regulative use as a necessary idea of reason). All effects are referred to particular known or unknown causes. In this there cannot be assumed even a connection between the various effects, else the reason of this connection would require to be sought beyond the connection itself.
The Spinozistic system, on the contrary, supposes one and the same substance as immediate cause of all various effects, which must be regarded as predicates of one and the same subject. Matter and mind are, with Spinoza, one and the same substance, which appears, now under the former, now under the latter attribute. This single substance is, according to him, not only the sole being that can be self-dependent, that is, independent of any external cause, but also the sole self-subsistent being, all so-called beings besides it being merely its modes, that is, particular limitations of its attributes. Every particular effect in nature is referred by him, not to its proximate cause (which is merely a mode), but immediately to this first cause, which is the common substance of all beings.
In this system unity is real, but multiplicity is merely ideal. In the atheistic system it is the opposite. Multiplicity is real, being founded on the nature of things themselves. On the other hand, the unity, which is observed in the order and regularity of nature, is merely an accident, by which we are accustomed to determine our arbitrary system for the sake of knowledge. It is inconceivable therefore how any one can make out the Spinozistic system to be atheistic, since the two systems are diametrically opposed to one another. In the latter the existence of God is denied, but in the former the existence of the world. Spinoza's ought therefore to be called rather the acosmic system.
The Leibnitzian system holds the mean between the two preceding. In it all particular effects are referred immediately to particular causes; but these various effects are thought as connected in a single system, and the cause of this connection is sought in a being beyond itself.
Positive religion is distinguished from natural in the very same way as the positive laws of a state from natural laws. The latter are those which rest on a self-acquired, indistinct knowledge, and are not duly defined in regard to their application, while the former rest on a distinct knowledge received from others, and are completely defined in regard to their application.
A positive religion however must be carefully distinguished from a political religion. The former has for its end merely the correction and accurate definition of knowledge, that is, instruction regarding the first cause: and the knowledge is communicated to another, according to the measure of his capacity, just as it has been received. But the latter has for its end mainly the welfare of the state. Knowledge is therefore communicated, not just as it has been received, but only in so far as it is found serviceable to this end. Politics, merely as politics, requires to concern itself about true religion as little as about true morality. The injury, that might arise from this, can be prevented by other means which influence men at the same time, and thus all can be kept in equilibrium. Every political religion is therefore at the same time positive, but every positive religion is not also political.
Natural religion has no mysteries any more than merely positive religion. For there is no mystery implied in one man being unable to communicate his knowledge to another of defective capacity with the same degree of completeness which he himself has attained; otherwise mysteries might be attributed to all the sciences, and there would then be mysteries of mathematics as well as mysteries of religion. Only political religion can have mysteries, in order to lead men in an indirect way to the attainment of the political end, inasmuch as they are made to believe that thereby they can best attain their private ends, though this is not always in reality the case. There are lesser and greater mysteries in the political religions. The former consist in the material knowledge of all particular operations and their connection with one another. The latter, on the contrary, consist in the knowledge of the form, that is, of the end by which the former are determined. The former constitute the totality of the laws of religion, but the latter contains the spirit of the laws.
The Jewish religion, even at its earliest origin among the nomadic patriarchs, is already distinguished from the heathen as natural religion, inasmuch as, instead of the many comprehensible gods of heathenism, the unity of an incomprehensible God lies at its foundation. For as the particular causes of the effects, which in general give rise to a religion, are in themselves unknown, and we do not feel justified in transferring to the causes the attributes of the particular effects, in order thereby to characterise them, there remains nothing but the idea of cause in general, which must be related to all effects without distinction. This cause cannot even be analogically determined by the effects. For the effects are opposed to one another, and neutralise each other even in the same object. If therefore we ascribed them all to one and the same cause, the cause could not be analogically determined by any.
The heathen religion, on the other hand, refers every kind of effect to a special cause, which can of course be characterised by its effect. As a positive religion the Jewish is distinguished from the heathen by the fact, that it is not a merely political religion, that is, a religion which has for its end the social interest (in opposition to true knowledge and private interest); but in accordance with the spirit of its founder, it is adapted to the theocratic form of the national Government, which rests on the principle, that only the true religion, based on rational knowledge, can harmonise with the interest of the state as well as of the individual. Considered in its purity, therefore, it has no mysteries in the proper sense of the word; that is to say, it has no doctrines which, in order to reach their end, men will not disclose, but merely such as can not be disclosed to all.
After the fall of the Jewish state the religion was separated from the state which no longer existed. The religious authorities were no longer, as they had been before, concerned about adapting the particular institutions of religion to the state; but their care went merely to preserve the religion, on which the existence of the nation now depended. Moved by hatred towards those nations who had annihilated the state, and from anxiety lest with the fall of the state the religion also might fall, they hit upon the following means for the preservation and extension of their religion.
1. The fiction of a method, handed down from Moses, of expanding the laws, and applying them to particular cases. This method is not that which reason enjoins, of modifying laws according to their intention, in adaptation to time and circumstances, but that which rests upon certain rules concerning their literary expression.
2. The legislative force ascribed to the new decisions and opinions obtained by this method, giving to them an equal rank with the ancient laws. The subtle dialectic, with which this has been carried on down to our times, and the vast number of laws, customs and useless ceremonies of all sorts, which it has occasioned, may be easily imagined.
The history of the Jewish religion can, in consequence of this, be appropriately divided into five great epochs. The first epoch embraces the natural religion, from the times of the patriarchs down to Moses at the exodus from Egypt. The second comprehends the positive or revealed religion, from Moses to the time of the Great Synagogue (Keneseth Haggedolah). This council must not be conceived as an assembly of theologians at a definite time; the name applies to the theologians of a whole epoch from the destruction of the first temple to the composition of the Mishnah. Of these the first were the minor prophets (Haggai, Zachariah, Malachi, etc., of whom 120 are counted altogether), and the last was Simon the Just.[32] These, as well as their forerunners from the time of Joshua, took as their basis the Mosaic laws, and added new laws according to time and circumstances, but in conformity with the traditional method, every dispute on the subject being decided by the majority of voices.
The third epoch extends from the composition of the Mishnah by Jehudah the Saint[33] to the composition of the Talmud by Rabina and Rabassi.[34] Down to this epoch it was forbidden to commit the laws to writing, in order that they might not fall into the hands of those who could make no use of them. But as Rabbi Jehudah Hanassi, or, as he is otherwise called, Rabbenu Hakades observed, that, in consequence of their great multiplicity, the laws may easily fall into oblivion, he gave himself a licence to transgress a single one of the laws in order to preserve the whole. The law transgressed was that against committing the laws to writing; and in this licence he defended himself by a passage in the Psalms, "There are times, when a man shows himself well-pleasing to God by transgressing the laws."[35] He lived in the time of Antoninus Pius, was rich, and possessed all the faculties for such an undertaking. He therefore composed the Mishnah, in which he delivers the Mosaic laws in accordance either with a traditional or with a rational method of exposition. It contains also some laws which form the subject of dispute.
This work is divided into six parts. The first contains the laws relating to agriculture and horticulture; the second, those which refer to feasts and holidays. The third part comprehends the laws which define the mutual relations of the two sexes (marriage, divorce, and such subjects). The fourth part is devoted to the laws which deal with the teachers of the law; the fifth, to those which treat of the temple-service and sacrifices; and the sixth, to the laws of purification.
As the Mishnah is composed with the greatest precision, and cannot be understood without a commentary, it was natural, that in course of time doubts and disputes should arise, regarding the exposition of the Mishnah itself, as well as the mode of its application to cases which it does not sufficiently determine. All these doubts and their manifold solutions, controversies and decisions, were finally collected in the Talmud by the above-mentioned Rabina and Rabassi; and this forms the fourth epoch of Jewish legislation.
The fifth epoch begins with the conclusion of the Talmud, and extends down to our time, and so on for ever (si diis placet) till the advent of the Messiah. Since the conclusion of the Talmud the rabbis have been by no means idle. 'Tis true, they dare not alter anything in the Mishnah or the Talmud; but they still have plenty of work to do. Their business is to explain those two works, so that they shall harmonise; and this is no small matter, for one rabbi, with a superfine dialectic, is always finding contradictions in the explanations of another. They must also disentangle, from the labyrinth of various opinions, expositions, controversies and decisions, the laws which are applicable to every case; and finally for new cases, by inferences from those already known, they must bring out new laws, hitherto left indeterminate in spite of all previous labours, and thus prepare a complete code of laws.
It is thus that a religion, in its origin natural and conformable to reason, has been abused. A Jew dare not eat or drink, lie with his wife or attend to the wants of nature, without observing an enormous number of laws. With the books on the slaughter of animals alone (the condition of the knife and the examination of the entrails) a whole library could be filled, which certainly would come near to the Alexandrian in extent. And what shall I say of the enormous number of books treating of those laws which are no longer in use, such as the laws of sacrifice, of purification, etc.? The pen falls from my hand, when I remember that I and others like me were obliged to spend in this soul-killing business the best days of our lives when the powers are in their full vigour, and to sit up many a night, to try and bring out some sense where there was none, to exercise our wits in the discovery of contradictions where none were to be found, to display acuteness in removing them where they were obviously to be met, to hunt after a shadow through a long series of arguments, and to build castles in the air.
The abuse of Rabbinism has, as will be seen, a twofold source.
1. The first is an artificial method of expounding the Holy Scriptures, which distinguishes itself from the natural method by the fact, that, while the latter rests on a thorough knowledge of the language and the true spirit of the legislator in view of the circumstances of the time, as these are known from history, the former has been devised rather for the sake of the laws passed to meet existing emergencies. The rabbis look upon the Holy Scriptures, not only as the source of the fundamental laws of Moses, and of those which are deducible from these by a rational method, but also as a vehicle of the laws to be drawn up by themselves according to the wants of the time. The artificial method here, like every other of the same kind, is merely a means of bringing the new laws at least into an external connection with the old, in order that they may thereby find a better introduction among the people, be reduced to principles, divided into classes, and therefore more easily impressed on the memory. No reasonable rabbi will hold, that the laws, which are referred in this way to passages of the Holy Scriptures, render the true sense of these passages; but if questioned on this point, he will reply, "These laws are necessities of the time, and are referred to those passages merely for this reason."
2. The second source of the abuse of Rabbinism is to be found in the manners and customs of other nations, in whose neighbourhood the Jews have lived, or among whom they have been gradually scattered since the fall of the Jewish state. These manners and customs they were obliged to adopt in order to avoid becoming objects of abhorrence. Of this sort are the laws, not to uncover the head (at least in holy places and at holy ceremonies), to wash the hands (before meals and prayers), to fast the whole day till sunset, to say a number of daily prayers, to make pilgrimages, to walk round the altar, etc.,—all manifestly of Arabian origin.
From hatred also towards those nations that destroyed the Jewish state, and afterwards made the Jews undergo manifold oppressions, they have adopted various customs, and among others many religious usages which are opposite to those of the Greeks and Romans.
In all this the rabbis had the Mosaic laws themselves for a model, these being sometimes in agreement, sometimes in hostility, with the Egyptian laws which lie at their root, as has been shown in the most thorough manner by the celebrated Maimonides in his work, Moreh Nebhochim.
It is remarkable, that, with all rabbinical extravagancies in the practical department, namely the laws and customs, the theoretical department of the Jewish theology has still always preserved itself in its purity. Eisenmenger may say what he will, it may be shown by unanswerable arguments, that all the limited figurative representations of God and His attributes have their source merely in an endeavour to adapt the ideas of theology to the common understanding. The rabbis followed in this the principle which they had established in reference to the Holy Scriptures themselves, namely, that the Holy Scriptures use the language of the common people, inasmuch as religious and moral sentiments and actions, which form the immediate aim of theology may in this manner be most easily extended. They therefore represent God to the common understanding as an earthly King, who with His ministers and the advisers of His cabinet, the angels, takes counsel concerning the government of the world. But for the educated mind they seek to take away all anthropomorphic representations of God, when they say, "It was an act of high daring on the part of the prophets, to represent the Creator as like His creature, as when, for example, it is said in Ezekiel (i., 26), 'And upon the throne was an appearance like man.'"
I have disclosed the abuses of the rabbis in regard to religion without any partiality. At the same time however I must not be silent about their good qualities, but do them justice as impartially. Compare then Mahomed's description of the reward of the pious with the rabbinical representation. The former runs:—"Here (in paradise) there are as many dishes as there are stars in heaven. Maidens and boys fill the cups, and wait on the table. The beauty of the maidens surpasses all imagination. If one of these maidens were to appear in the sky or in the air by night, the world would become as bright as when the sun is shining; and if she were to spit into the sea, its salt water would be turned into honey, and its bitter into sweet. Milk, honey, white wine will be the rivers which water this delicious abode. The slime of these rivers will be made of sweet-smelling nutmegs, and their pebbles of pearls and hyacinths. The angel Gabriel will open the gates of paradise to faithful Musselmans. The first thing to meet their eyes will be a table of diamonds of such enormous length, that it would require 70,000 days to run round it. The chairs, which stand around the table, will be of gold and silver, the tablecloths of silk and gold. When the guests have sat down, they will eat the choicest dishes of paradise, and drink its water. When they are satisfied, beautiful boys will bring them green garments of costly stuff, and necklaces and earrings of gold. To every one will then be given a citron; and when he has brought it to his nose to feel its odour, a maiden of enchanting beauty will come out. Every one will embrace his own with rapture, and this intoxication of love will last fifty years without interruption. Each couple will obtain an enchanting palace for a dwelling, where they will eat and drink and enjoy all sorts of pleasure for ever and ever.[36]" This description is beautiful; but how sensuous! The rabbis, on the other hand, say, "Above (in the blessed abode of the pious) there is neither eating nor drinking, but the pious sit crowned, and delight themselves with the vision of the Godhead."
Eisenmenger seeks, in his Entdecktes Judenthum (Theil 1., Kap. 8), by a crass exposition to throw ridicule on the Platonic doctrine of reminiscence, which the rabbis maintain; but what may not be made ridiculous in the same way? He also makes sport, with equal injustice, of other rabbinical teachings. With the Stoics, for example, the rabbis call wise men Kings; they say, that God does nothing without previously taking counsel with his angels, that is, Omnipotence works upon nature not immediately, but by means of the natural forces; they teach, that everything is predestined by God, except the practice of virtue. These are the subjects of Eisenmenger's mockery; but does any reasonable theologian find in these anything ridiculous or impious? I should be obliged to write a whole book, if I were to answer all the unjust charges and jeers which have been brought against the Talmudists, not by Christian writers alone, but even by Jews who wished to pass for illuminati.
To be just to the rabbis it is necessary to penetrate into the true spirit of the Talmud, to become thoroughly familiar with the manner in which the ancients generally, but especially the Orientals, deliver theological, moral, and even physical truths in fables and allegories, to become familiar also with the style of Oriental hyperbole in reference to everything that can be of interest to man. Moreover, the rabbis should be treated in the spirit in which they themselves excused Rabbi Meïr who had a heretic for his teacher,—the spirit expressed in a passage already quoted. If justice is thus dealt to the rabbis, the Talmud will certainly not show all the absurdities which its opponents are disposed too readily to find.
The rabbinical method of referring theoretical or practical truths, even by the oddest exegesis, to passages in the Holy Scriptures or any other book in general esteem, as if they were truths brought out of such passages by a rational exegesis,—this method, besides procuring an introduction for the truths among common men, who are not capable of grasping them on their own merits, and accept them merely on authority, is also to be regarded as an excellent aid to the memory; for since, as presumed, these passages are in everybody's mouth, the truths drawn from them are also retained by their means. Consequently it very often occurs in the Talmud, when the question concerns the deduction of a new law from the Holy Scriptures, that one rabbi derives the law from this or that passage, while another brings the objection, that this cannot be the true meaning of the passage, inasmuch as the true meaning is this or that. To such an objection every one is wont to reply, that it is a new law of the rabbis, who merely refer it to the passage mentioned.
As it is therefore universally presupposed that this method is familiar, the Talmudists regard it as unnecessary to inculcate it anew on every occasion. A single example will suffice to illustrate this. One Talmudist asked another the meaning of the following passage in the Book of Joshua (xv., 22), Kinah Vedimonah Veadadah.[37] The latter replied, "Here are enumerated the then familiar places of the Holy Land." "Of course!" rejoined the other. "I know very well that these are names of places. But, Rabbi —— knows how to bring out of these, besides the proper meaning, something useful, namely this:—'(Kinah) He to whom his neighbour gives occasion for revenge, (Vedimonah) and who yet, out of generosity, keeps silence, taking no revenge, (Veadadah) to him will the Eternal execute justice.'" What a fine opportunity this would be for laughing at the poor Talmudist, who derives a moral sentence from particular names of places, and besides makes in an extraordinary manner a compound out of the last name, Sansannah,[38] if he had not himself explained that he is seeking to know, not the true meaning of the passage, but merely a doctrine which may be referred to it.
Again, the Talmudists have referred to a passage in Isaiah the important doctrine, that in morals the principal object is, not theory, but practice, by which theory receives its true value. The passage runs as follows:—"The expectation of thy happiness"—that is, the happiness promised by the prophet—"will have for its consequence strength, help, wisdom, knowledge, and the fear of God."[39] Here they refer the first six subjects to the six Sedarim or divisions of the Mishnah, which are the foundation of all Jewish learning. Emunath (Expectation) is Seder Seraim; Etecho (Happiness) is Seder Moad, and so on. That is to say, you may be ever so well versed in all these six sedarim; yet the main point is the last, the fear of God.
As far as rabbinical morals in other respects are concerned, I know in truth nothing that can be urged against them, except perhaps their excessive strictness in many cases. They form in fact genuine Stoicism, but without excluding other serviceable principles, such as perfection, universal benevolence, and the like. Holiness with them extends even to the thoughts. This principle is, in the usual fashion, referred to the following passage in the Psalms, "Thou shalt have no strange God in thee";[40] for in the human heart, it is argued, no strange God can dwell, except evil desires. It is not allowed to deceive even a heathen either by deeds or by words—not even in cases where he could lose nothing by the deceit. For example, the common form of courtesy, "I am glad to see you well," is not to be used, if it does not express the real sentiments of the heart. The examples of Jews who cheat Christians and heathens, which are commonly adduced against this statement, prove nothing, inasmuch as these Jews do not act in accordance with the principles of their own morals.
The commandment, "Thou shalt not covet anything that is thy neighbour's," is so expounded by the Talmudists, that we must guard against even the wish to possess any such thing. In short, I should require to write a whole book, if I were to adduce all the excellent doctrines of rabbinical morals.
The influence of these doctrines in practical life also is unmistakable. The Polish Jews, who have always been allowed to adopt any means of gain, and have not, like the Jews of other countries, been restricted to the pitiful occupation of Schacher or usurer, seldom hear the reproach of cheating. They remain loyal to the country in which they live, and support themselves in an honourable way.
Their charity and care for the poor, their institutions for nursing the sick, their special societies for burial of the dead, are well enough known. It is not nurses and grave-diggers hired for money, but the elders of the people, who are eager to perform these acts. The Polish Jews are indeed for the most part not yet enlightened by science, their manners and way of life are still rude; but they are loyal to the religion of their fathers and the laws of their country. They do not come before you with courtesies, but their promise is sacred. They are not gallants, but your women are safe from any snares with them. Woman, indeed, after the manner of the Orientals in general, is by them not particularly esteemed; but all the more on that account are they resolved on fulfilling their duties towards her. Their children do not learn by heart any forms for expressing love and respect for their parents—for they do not keep French demoiselles;—but they show that love and respect all the more heartily.
The sacredness of their marriages, and the ever fresh tenderness which arises from this, deserve especially to be mentioned. Every month the husband is wholly separated from his wife for a fortnight (the period of monthly purification in accordance with the rabbinical laws); they may not so much as touch one another, or eat out of the same dish or drink out of the same cup. By this means satiety is avoided; the wife continues to be in the eyes of her husband all that she was as maiden in the eyes of her lover.
Finally, what innocence rules among unmarried persons! It often happens that a young man or woman of sixteen or eighteen years is married without knowing the least about the object of marriage. Among other nations this is certainly very seldom the case.