4. A Specimen Planet.—Astronomers, before they begin to study the orbit of any particular star, like to be familiar with the general aspect of the heavens; and students of history, who wish to learn about any special period or personage, have to follow much the same course, in order that they may be able to fill in for themselves the background to any prominent figure. The general condition of the Jewish people in the chief countries of Europe during the Middle Ages is now, perhaps, sufficiently familiar to us for this plan to be possible, and, as each star peeps out from its own particular corner of the dark sky, we can picture somewhat accurately the nature of the surrounding darkness which it illumined. Thus, the end of the ninth century, and the country Egypt, recalls to memory the tempestuous close of a long period of literary activity. The labours of the Gaonimwere becoming, by that date, intermittent and interrupted, and Jehuda the Blind, one of the most active of them all, was already nearly a hundred years dead,when in 849 the Sultan Mutavakel[33] imposed those intolerant and degrading disabilities on the Jews of the East which were the beginning of the end. Oppressed from without, and divided by jealousies from within, the schools of Babylon gradually closed, one after the other, and the scholars migrated to Egypt and to Spain.In 892, to one of these settlers in Upper Egypt there was born a child who grew up and grew famous under the name and title of Gaon Saadia.[34] He became head of the college at Sora, and was a great authority on all theological matters. He translated the Bible into Arabic, which language was growing to be a second mother-tongue to the transplanted Eastern Jews.Saadia fought a good fight against Karaism and its principles, which seemed so wide and were so narrow.[35] His arguments in many forms were directed against the plausible and impracticable doctrines which, about the middle of the eighth century, Anan ben David had done his best to spread. But Saadia’s chief original work was called [a]אֱמוּנָה וְדֵעוֹת], Faith and Morals. This book battles against unbelief, and sums up the arguments in favour of holding by ‘tradition’ under seven excellent and pithy heads. It shows that there is ignorant denial quite as often as ignorant belief, and that doubting comes more often from knowing too little than fromknowing too much. But Saadia was no bigot. He taught that religion has no cause to fear research, and that if research is only carried far enough it confirms revelation. He wrote, all these centuries ago, in the same spirit as the Poet Laureate in these days,—
‘Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in thee dwell.’
And Saadia led an active life apart from his books. Like Mordecai, ‘he sought the prosperity of his brethren, and the peace of all his seed.’ But in these efforts our Rabbi was not successful, or only very partially so. The spirit which asks, ‘Who made thee a leader over us?’ was as active in the days of Saadia as in the days of Moses, and the Jews of Babylon were just as impatient as the Jews of the wilderness of wise direction and control. However, if Saadia’s moderate counsels did not always prevail among his people in his lifetime, the influence of his written words remains to them, and are a fine record of fifty years of useful life. He had a great deal of trouble, in consequence of communal disputes with the [a]רֵישׁ נְּלוּתָא], David ben Sakkai. A reconciliation, after many years’ discord, was effected between David ben Sakkai and the community, and David’s grandson, who was the last [a]רֵישׁ נְּלוּתָא], was brought up in Saadia’s house. Rabbi Saadia ben Joseph died in 942.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SOME FIXED STARS.
1. Solomon ibn Gabirol (1021–1070).—This poet and philosopher, who was born at Malaga in 1021, is a very good example of what tolerant Mahomedan Spain produced among her Jews. The truest lives, it has been said, are those which have been cut rose-diamond fashion, that is to say, many-sided, and each side answering to some useful aspect of the life around them. This many-sidedness is perhaps a distinctive feature of Jewish genius, and due as much to circumstances as to nature. Solomon ibn Gabirol is an instance in point. He was poet, patriot, astronomer, and philosopher in one, and equally distinguished all round. Of his own life-history we unfortunately know almost as little as we do of Shakespeare’s, for biographies and autobiographies were not so much in fashion in those days as in these. But sonnets and poems with Gabirol, as with the great Englishman, take often a personal turn, and from these we learn that the Spanish poet was early left an orphan, and that he found a friend and protector in a certain Jekuthiel ibn-Hassan, the chief minister of the reigning kaliph. There are verses in existence which tell us of the friendship, and verses, too, of a sadder sort, which tell us of that friendship’s ending. Jekuthiel died when the boy he loved, and who loved him back again as only boys and poets can, was but eighteen, and the sorrow that came thus early intoGabirol’s life shadowed it henceforth. He seems always to have been of a somewhat sombre temperament, and it is possible that the loss of his parents when he was a child, and then the loss of this good friend just as he was entering manhood, may have made him more inclined than even he was naturally, to take sad views of things. He wrote a really wonderful elegy for so young a poet, on the death of Jekuthiel, and for the rest of his life he seems to have turned to work as a cure for heart-break. The most valuable of his writings is called ‘The Fountain of Life,’ and its philosophy was so wise and so original that the book grew more celebrated than the author. It was translated about 1150, from the Arabic language in which it was written, into Latin, and under its name of Fons Vitæ it was greatly prized by learned schoolmen of the period, and in time it became a puzzle to identify the writer. ‘Avicebron’ was received as the name of the author, but who Avicebron might be was only conclusively solved in these days, when the French savant Munk proved, to the satisfaction of all who knew most about the facts, that the unknown and celebrated ‘Avicebron’ of general fame, and the known and loved Gabirol of Jewish fame, were identical. To Jewish literature his chief contributions were numerous Piyutim, to be found in the various rituals, and the [a]כֶּתֶר מַלְכוּת], or Kingly Crown, which forms part of the New Year service in the Prayer-books of the Spanish and Portuguese and the British Jews. This is a most beautiful religious poem, beginning ‘Heavenly and earthly creatures bear witness that they decay, andthat Thou alone dost endure.’ The German astronomer and philosopher, Humboldt, said of this composition of Gabirol’s that it was a worthy and noble echo of ancient Hebrew poetry. It has a certain scientific as well as a theological value, for the first part of the prayerful poem gives a scholar’s rendering of the truth that ‘the heavens declare the glory of God,’ by presenting to the reader a faithful picture of what was the astronomical knowledge of the period in which the author lived. The [a]כֶּתֶר מַלְכוּת] has been translated into almost every European language. Another work of this many-sided man was the composition of a Hebrew grammar in verse, and a more interesting one was a small collection of wise and witty saws and sayings. This little book was called a ‘Choice of Pearls,’ and here are a few sample jewels:—
‘Questioning is halfway to wisdom.’
‘Courtesy is halfway to cleverness.’
‘Thrift is halfway to wealth.’