"May my tongue cleave parched
To the roof of my mouth, and my right hand
Wither, if ever
I forget thee, O Jerusalem."
For affronts put upon him in connection with the performance of "Almansor," it was his intention to take thorough revenge on his German-Christian enemies, and to hold up a mirror to them in a Jewish novel. In the "Rabbi of Bacharach" he described vividly, as only he could, the sad and the glorious scenes of Jewish history, and to this end he carefully studied the Jewish chronicles, as he wished to keep strictly to history. His imagination only illuminated facts, but did not invent them, there being material enough at his disposal. Heine did not shrink from ransacking the rubbish contained in old books, such as Schudt's "Jewish Curiosities," "that memorial of Frankfort Jew-hatred"; and he succeeded in extracting something even from chaff and straw. "The spirit of Jewish history reveals itself more and more to me, and the pursuit of it will no doubt prove useful to me in the future." In the course of Jewish history, outlined by acts of heroism and by sacrifices, he beheld a connection between the plans of Providence: "In the same year in which the Jews were expelled from Spain, the new land of religious liberty was discovered." The golden period of mediæval Jewish history—the history of the Spanish Jews—had greatest charm for him. In the foreground of this stage he wished to introduce proud Jews, who would not bow their necks beneath the yoke of German restrictions and canonical arrogance, and who professed their religion with pride; but this epoch was not well known at that time, and Heine longed in vain for sources whence to draw pregnant information. Instead of facts, those to whom he applied gave him only threshed straw. But Heine allowed no difficulty to prevent his collecting interesting historical material for his novel; this production was to be the child, not of his hate, but of his love. He fairly basked in it: "Since it proceeds from love, it will be an immortal book, an ever-burning lamp in the palace of God—no fitful theatrical light."
Heine's romance was indeed grandly conceived. The scene of action was laid in Germany, but the history of the Jews of Spain, their expulsion, and enforced baptism, were to be the main incidents.
However, at the time when Heine was earnestly engaged in the study of Judaism, and became enthusiastic for its history, and hated Christianity most fiercely, he quietly passed over to the Christian fold (June 28, 1825), and assumed the baptismal name of Christian Johann Heinrich. He had fought for a long time against this temptation. He expressed his opinion upon the question plainly:—
"Not one of my family is opposed to it except myself. This act may be of importance to me, as through it I may the better devote myself to the cause of my unhappy co-religionists. But I should consider it a blot upon my dignity and honor, if I were to be baptized in order to obtain a post in Prussia—in dear Prussia!... Vexation may drive me to become a Catholic, and hang myself."
In spite of this declaration he became a convert, in order to obtain a position in Prussia, and also to escape from humiliating dependence upon his uncle. In his diary he wrote the following verses upon the subject:—
"And unto the cross now bendest thou low,
To the cross that erstwhile thou didst despise;
Which but a few short weeks ago
Seemed so vile in thy scornful eyes."
Shortly afterwards (July 20, 1825) he passed his law examination. But he pursued phantoms, and had made a vain sacrifice of his honor. He was unable to procure employment, and could not dispense with his uncle's support. Shamefaced as a girl guilty of some fault, Heine communicated the fact of his conversion in allegorical language to his bosom friend Moser:
"A young Spanish Jew, at heart a Jew, who, owing to the demands of pleasure, had abjured his faith, corresponded with the youthful Judah Abrabanel, and sent him a poem translated from the Moorish. Perhaps he was loth to tell his friend in plain terms of his not very creditable performance; still he sends the poem.—Do not meditate about it."
Through his apostasy, Heine became only the more embittered against Christianity, as though it were directly responsible for his faithlessness, his loss of dignity, and his disloyalty to his better self. "I assure you," he wrote to his intimate friend, "if the law had permitted the stealing of silver spoons, I should not have been baptized." When at about the same time, Edward Gans, the leader of young Israel, founder of the Society of Culture, and one of its active promoters, also embraced Christianity, Heine could not forgive him, for he had not been compelled by poverty to take the step. Heine was yet more indignant when informed that Gans had induced weak-minded Jews to forsake their belief.