CHAPTER XL.
A.D. 1700-1800.
THE JEWS IN ENGLAND.
During this century no marked change of any kind took place in the position of the English Jews, though their affairs several times came before the notice of the legislature. They had obtained under the Stuarts liberty to carry on their public worship, to practise all trades and professions, and hold all property, except such as was not permitted to aliens. None of these privileges were withdrawn or modified during the eighteenth century. On the other hand, the Jews were not naturalized, could not possess land, could not hold any public office of whatsoever kind—were not, in any real sense, English citizens. Yet it was evident they regarded themselves as permanent settlers in the country. They began to build synagogues, and to establish schools, hospitals, and other charitable foundations for the benefit of their community. It should be noted that, as in Holland, so in England also, there were two classes of Jews—the German and Polish (called the Ashkenazim), and the Spanish and Portuguese (the Sephardim).[207] These agree in their religious opinions, but in other matters differ considerably from each other, and it is said that intermarriages between them were for a long time rare. The last-named were the first to erect a synagogue, which was opened in 1662, in King Street, Aldgate. In 1676, a larger synagogue had to be provided, and a third was built three years later. This stands in Bevis Marks, and remains to this day, but little changed in appearance. In 1703 the Jews’ Hospital was opened, which now stands in Mile End Road. In 1730 a girls’ school was built by Isaac da Costa, and called after his name; and in 1735 another school for general education was set up and endowed by Ruez Lamego.
The German and Polish Jews did not settle in England for a generation later. They were, on the whole, inferior in respect of culture and education, as well as less wealthy, than their Spanish brethren. They provided themselves with a place of worship about the beginning of the last century. It was enlarged in 1722. The present Hamburg synagogue was erected in 1726; and the Great Synagogue, in Duke Street, in 1763.
The first legislation of the century respecting the Jews was in 1703, when an Act was carried obliging the Jews to make provision for any members of their family who might become converts to Christianity. This was passed in consequence of the action of a wealthy Jew, whose daughter had been baptized; immediately after which he turned her out of doors in a state of entire destitution. Not long afterwards, the question of their naturalization began for the first time to be agitated. A proposal was made to the Treasurer Godolphin, in Queen Anne’s time, to purchase the town of Brentford for their occupation, the purchase carrying with it the full rights of citizenship. Godolphin was urged by influential persons to accept it. But he foresaw the opposition which both the merchants and the clergy would offer to it, and declined the proposal. A few years afterwards a pamphlet was issued by the notorious John Toland,[208] who has very generally been branded as an infidel, but who appears to have been really guilty of nothing worse than eccentricity. He urged the wisdom and justice of naturalizing the Jews. But John Toland, one of whose works had been ordered to be burnt by the public hangman, was not a very likely person to be listened to on such a subject. It appears to have drawn forth a pamphlet, written in 1715, deprecating in strong language the proposed naturalization. It is curious to read this pamphlet, which may be seen at the British Museum. The writer repeats with unabated acrimony the charges which had been made for centuries against the Jews, but which the English people had now happily ceased to act upon. It says the reasons why Edward I. expelled them from England were, first, their crucifying and torturing Christian children; secondly, their betraying the secrets of the State to foreign enemies; thirdly, their tampering with and debasing the coinage; fourthly, the hatred which they bore to Christian men; and, lastly, their extortionate usuries. Of these, the first two could hardly be expected to obtain any credit, and must have been repeated merely for form’s sake, like the preamble of a deed. The fourth, too, almost all men at that day would reject as absurd in itself; because, if the Jews really entertained this bitter hate against Englishmen, why should they be so anxious to dwell among them? The third and fifth undoubtedly have some truth, though the charge of debasing the coinage was never satisfactorily proved, and at all events could not reasonably be charged on the Jews of the eighteenth century. With the last we have more than once dealt in this history. The idea, again, that the Jews are the enemies of Heaven, and that showing favour to them is disloyalty to Almighty God, already belonged only to the past. The writer’s real ground for objecting is, no doubt, the injury supposed to be done to English trade by the competition of the Jews, whose presence in England he is anxious to prove does not increase the wealth of the community. No Naturalization Bill was introduced, but in 1723 another step was taken towards improving their condition. It was then enacted that when any one of His Majesty’s subjects professing the Jewish religion shall present himself to take the customary oath of abjuration of the Pretender’s supposed rights in England, he shall be permitted to omit the words ‘On the true faith of a Christian.’ This is the first time that any regard for a Jew’s conscience or feelings was manifested in any public document. In 1740 another Act of Parliament conceded to foreign Jews who had served for two years on board a British man-of-war the privilege of British citizenship.
In 1753 Mr. Pelham, at that time Premier, brought forward his famous Act for the naturalization of the Jews. One reason for it is said to have been the loyal services rendered by the Jews to the Crown during the attempt of Charles Edward, in 1745, to regain the throne.[209] The Bill was introduced into the House of Lords early in the session, and passed without opposition,[210] almost without remark. It provided for the naturalization of all Jews who had resided in England for three years consecutively. But it should be noted that it did not permit them to hold any public offices, not even of the most petty character. They could not even be excisemen or custom-house officers. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the extreme moderation of the Bill, when it was brought into the Commons, an angry debate ensued. Some members declared that to admit Jews to the privilege of citizenship was an insult to the Christian faith. The inspired Word, it was said, had declared that they should be scattered over the face of the earth, having nowhere any fixed abode; to give them a permanent home, therefore, was to fly in the face of God and of prophecy. It would deluge the kingdom with Jew usurers, brokers, and beggars. The Jews would buy up advowsons, and so ruin the Church! Pelham answered, that the fears expressed were idle and chimerical, that the Jews were too few and uninfluential to work any of the mischief that had been predicted; and, as they could not take any part in our religious services, or even enter our churches, it was impossible they could injure the Church. As for any supposed opposition to the will of God, if there had been any such Divine decree as was represented, it would be impossible for man to overthrow or even to modify it. The Bill passed by a majority of ninety-five, only sixteen being found to vote against it. But the Bill, though accepted by Parliament, excited out of doors a perfect storm of indignation. The peers, and especially the bishops,[211] were pursued by mobs with insult and rancour. The common people filled the streets with cries of ‘No Jews—no wooden shoes!’ ‘The wooden shoes’ were typical of the French peasants, who ordinarily wore them. The popular brocard ‘No wooden shoes’ thus meant ‘Nothing French.’ There was no kind of connection between the Jews and the French, but the rhyme between ‘Jews’ and ‘shoes’ hit the popular fancy, and so the two cries were combined in one.
The members of the House of Commons were threatened with the loss of their seats; and, as Parliament was near its last session, this was no idle menace. As the autumn advanced, the agitation increased. A clergyman named Tucker, who had written a pamphlet in defence of the measure, was attacked and maltreated by the mob. The Bishop of Norwich, Thomas Gooch, also an advocate of the measure, when he went down to his diocese on his confirmation circuit, was everywhere insulted. At Ipswich the boys whom he was about to confirm shouted out to him that they wished to be circumcised; and on the door of one of the churches a paper was found, announcing that the bishop would confirm the Jews on the Saturday, and the Christians on the Sunday next ensuing.
It was not by the mob only that these clamours were raised. The Lord Mayor and Corporation of London, actuated, it is to be feared, by commercial jealousy, publicly denounced the measure as an inroad on the Constitution and an insult to the Christian religion, and the country clergy everywhere preached the same from their pulpits.
The ministry found that they could not withstand the popular fury. On the very first day of the ensuing session, immediately after the Peers had agreed to the usual address to the Crown, the Duke of Newcastle made an harangue, declaring that disaffected persons had made use of the Act passed last session in favour of the Jews to raise discontent among His Majesty’s subjects. As the Act itself was of little importance, it had better be repealed. As little opposition was offered to this proposal as to the original Bill. Some few did indeed protest against this concession to mob clamour; amongst them the Bishop of St. Asaph and Lord Temple. But in the Lower House both parties seemed to vie with each other in expressing their aversion to this unfortunate measure.
Even this ready compliance with the popular will did not allay the ferment that had been excited. There was, it appeared, an Act in existence, by virtue of which any Jew who had resided for seven years in any of His Majesty’s American plantations might become a free denizen of Great Britain. It was discovered that this was fraught with almost as much danger to the interests of the English people as the obnoxious measure which had just been removed from the statute book. A member of the Lower House moved that a list of the Jews who had availed themselves of the benefit of this Act since 1740 should be laid on the table for the perusal of the members of the House. It was found that, as claiming the privilege in question was attended by a good deal of expense and trouble, very few Jews had availed themselves of it. Nevertheless, as the possibility still remained that Jews in great numbers would at some future time take advantage of the Act in question, and so deluge England with Jews, whose presence would be in the highest degree prejudicial to the interests and even the safety of Great Britain, Lord Harley asked for leave to bring in a Bill to strike out of the Act its obnoxious clauses. But at this point Government refused to concede any further to out-door clamour. Lord Harley’s motion was seconded by Sir James Dashwood, and supported by other influential persons. But Mr. Pitt made one of his great speeches against it, and it was rejected by a decisive majority. The whole affair is a curious instance of how easily the English people may be stirred up to loud and clamorous indignation upon the most trivial subjects, in which neither their safety nor their convenience are in any way concerned;[212] though they cannot, like their Continental neighbours, be induced to proceed to acts of violence, unless where some real danger threatens them or some important interest is at stake.
During the remainder of the century, and indeed for a large part of that which followed, no new attempt was made to accomplish the naturalization of the Jews. It was probably felt by their friends that the angry and unreasonable prejudice which had been roused by the proposed measure of 1753 would in all likelihood break out as virulent as ever,[213] if a similar Bill should be brought into Parliament. It is also a singular fact that many of the Jews themselves were not anxious for the measure to pass, as they feared that the conversion of many of their communion to the Christian faith might follow from it.