Rabinowitsch has also attempted a kind of poetic prose in his 'Nosegay,' but in this he has not been very successful. He is at best where he can make use of wit and sarcasm, and that he has been able to apply better in his stories and comedies. Of the latter his 'Jaknehos' is a good picture taken from the life of the men who do business on 'Change. Here again the plot is the minor part of the play, but the separate scenes are drawn in bold strokes.
When Rabinowitsch came into his fortune, he conceived the idea of devoting his energy and his money to the creation of a periodical such as had never before existed in Judeo-German literature. Only two volumes appeared, when bad speculations on 'Change made him a poor man. These two annuals show that had he been more fortunate, he soon would have brought Judeo-German letters to a height where they would have taken place by the side of the best in Europe. His enthusiasm, his critical acumen, his talents, fitted him eminently for that undertaking. Spektor's aim in issuing the Hausfreund was the more modest one of furnishing the people with wholesome reading. How difficult his task has been can be seen from the fact that the articles for his periodical are not paid for. They are voluntary contributions by those who have the welfare of the masses at heart. However good the forces may be, it is not possible in these degenerate days to expect a natural development of a literature when the writers can hope to earn neither glory nor money by their labors. No Judeo-German litterateur has ever been able to make more than a scanty living, and that only sporadically, out of his books. But here came Rabinowitsch, who paid liberally for all the articles furnished him. That was an innovation from which only good could result. But the editor not only paid his contributors; he demanded well-written articles, and he accepted only the best of those. In his annual we find departments,—Belles Lettres, Criticism, Science, Bibliography, each being strictly defined in its proper sphere. In the division of belles lettres we find all the best authors of the time. Here also appeared for the first time articles from the pen of Frischmann, M. J. Rabinowitsch, and Perez, who belong among the most talented of Judeo-German writers. Among the scientific articles there are several of a historical character, such as 'On the History of the Jews in Podolia,' by Litinski, 'The Massacres of Gonto in Uman and the Ukraine,' by Dr. Skomarowski. There are several discussions on popular medicine, mainly from the pen of the indefatigable worker in that direction for more than a quarter of a century, Dr. Tscherny, and there is one on 'The History of Judeo-German Literature' by A. Schulmann. The latter is the result of years of investigation and is remarkably rich in bibliographical data. It would do honor to any scientific periodical. The part given to bibliography is of great importance to the student of Judeo-German literature, as that bibliography is in such a bad condition that it is not possible for certain periods, especially the older, to give absolutely correct data. But the most interesting department in the periodical is that of criticism, which is a new factor in Judeo-German. Heretofore a few scattered remarks on books might be found in the Volksblatt, but a systematic treatment of that branch of literature was unknown to the older writers, and would have been of no use to the readers. But here, in the Volksbibliothēk, we not only find this new departure, but there are not less than eighty pages devoted to it in the first volume.
Rabinowitsch had published but a short time before a volume entitled 'Schomer's Mischpet,' i.e. 'The Judgment of Schaikewitsch,' which marks a new era. In this book the author passes in review the writings of Schaikewitsch and his like who have been supplying the people with a worthless literature. It is written in an entertaining style, in the form of a judicial proceeding, and has produced to a certain extent the effect that it was intended to produce: the sale of those books fell off rapidly, and thus the field was again free for a new and better class of works. It cannot be said that Rabinowitsch has always been just to the men under judgment, but on the whole his opinion is sound, and his verdicts will stand. In his zeal he has sometimes been led to make sweeping statements, by which he has left some loopholes to the opponents who have taken him to task. However, criticism from now on becomes an established institution, and no author can escape a thorough inspection. The first to follow the example of Rabinowitsch was Frischmann, who brought out the same year a few sound reviews in the Hausfreund. In the Volksbibliothēk that duty is attended to by Rabnizki[101] and the editor. They not only criticise unworthy productions, but also direct the attention to good books, and encourage young writers if they seem to deserve encouragement. Rabinowitsch's talent in this direction is shown at its best in his biting sarcasm in reviewing Perez's poetry[102] (although he is not entirely just to him), and still better in his witty criticism of the various dictions used in Judeo-German. Perez, who is a genius of no mean proportions and who has started out in new directions in literature, has somehow aroused the displeasure of the critics, who will not put up with his symbolism. Frischmann has taken him to task for his alleged obscurity and other imagined faults in a series of masterly caricatures.[103] Frischmann also does not spare others who incur his wrath, and though one need not subscribe to his judgments, one cannot help learning useful things by his anatomies. By these we see, among other things, what progress Judeo-German is making; for individuality of style must be pronounced to deserve imitation and parody. Frischmann has also written some pretty tales of a fantastic nature, such as fairy tales, and a few from actual life.[104] His stories are all well worth reading, particularly on account of the excellent style he cultivates. M. J. Rabinowitsch's stories are mainly translations of his own Russian compositions.[105] They are all pictures from the Ghetto in Russia and Roumania, not unlike those by Bernstein and Kompert. They lack the spontaneity of the Judeo-German writers, but are carefully executed as to form.
By far the most original author of this latest period is Perez,[106] whose poetical works have been discussed before. With him Judeo-German letters enter into competition with what there is best in the world's literature, where he will some day occupy an honorable place. Among his voluminous works there is not one that is mediocre, not one that would lose anything of its comprehensibleness by being translated into another language. Although they at times deal with situations taken from Jewish life, it is their universal human import that interests him, not their specifically racial characteristics. It is mere inertia and the desire to serve his people that keep him in the ranks of Judeo-German writers. He does not belong there by any criterions that we have applied to his confreres, who themselves complain that his symbolism is inaccessible to the masses for whom he pretends to write. While this accusation is certainly just in the case of some of his works, it cannot be brought up in many other cases, where, in spite of the allegory, mysticism, or symbolism underlying his tale, there is a sufficient real residue of intelligible story for the humblest of his readers. He, too, aims at the education of his people, but in a vastly different sense from his predecessors. It is not the material information of mere facts that he strives for, nor even the broader culture of the schools that he would substitute for the Jewish lore and religious training, nor is he satisfied, with Spektor, to rouse the dormant national consciousness. His sympathies are with humanity at large, and the Jews are but one of the units that are to be redeemed from the social slavery under which the wretched of the world groan. It is those who have become timid under oppression of whatsoever form, who have lost the power of thinking, who have developed only the power of suffering, who are saints without knowing it, that Perez loves best. To them he would restore the human rights so long withheld from them, not by political and social enfranchisement, but by a consciousness of their human dignity which must precede all reform. To those to whom belongs the Kingdom of Heaven must also be given the Kingdom on Earth. While, nevertheless, the material things are withheld from them, there is no reason why the spiritual things should not be turned over to them. Perez, for one, offers gladly all he has, his genius, in the service of the lowly. Literature, according to him, is not to be a flimsy pastime of the otiose, but a consolation to those who have no other consolation, a safe and pleasurable retreat for those who are buffeted about on the stormy sea of life. For these reasons he writes in Judeo-German and not in any other language with which he is conversant, and for these same reasons he prefers to dwell with the downtrodden and the submerged.
To these people he devotes his best energies, and he uses the same care in filing and finishing his works that he would use if he were writing for a public trained in the best thoughts of the world and used to the highest type of literature. His first prose work, though not the first to be printed, was a small volume entitled 'Well-known Pictures,' containing three stories: 'The Messenger,' 'What Is a Soul?' and 'The Crazy Beggar-Student.' In the first he tells of the last errand of an aged messenger who through cold and rain and snow is making his way on foot to a distant village where he has to deliver an important document. He trudges along in hunger and pain, but not a word of complaint escapes his lips. Through his head pass old recollections of the time when his wife was still alive, when his children were all gathered about him. They have left him, but he is sure they are getting on well in their new homes, for, he consoles himself, bad news travels fast. His strength gives out, and he seats himself on a heap of snow to take a rest. He begins to dream of the not distant inn where the wife of the innkeeper will prepare a warm broth for him. He already sees himself seated at the table when strange persons enter the room. He soon recognizes them as his sons, and they embrace him and kiss him impetuously. In vain he begs them to desist from their choking embraces, for he is old and feeble. He begs them to be careful with him, for he has been intrusted with a sum of money that must be brought to its place of destination.... The old messenger was found dead, his hand upon his coat pocket in which he carried the intrusted document.
The second sketch is of a more cheerful character. It tells of the many troubles and doubts that a certain boy has ere he discovers what a soul really is. When very young his father dies, and they tell him that his soul has flown to heaven. Ever after he imagines the soul to be a bird. But he is ridiculed for that belief by his teacher's monitor. The teacher himself is accustomed to maltreat the boys and whip them mercilessly. He explains to them that the punishment of the body is good for the soul. What, then, is the soul? the young boy asks himself again. Then the teacher tells the children many fairy tales about the prenatal life of the soul, when the angel of life instructs it daily in the wisdom of the Bible and the Talmud. And that belief is soon taken from him by his instructor of penmanship, who has a turn to liberal ideas. So the boy keeps on wavering from belief to doubt and back again until the age of seventeen or eighteen, when he is studying the Talmud with a new teacher. Once, in his absence, it occurs to him to get the opinion of Gütele, his beautiful daughter, who is known by the name of the wise Gütele, on the question which has been puzzling him so long, and for which he has suffered so often in his life. With trembling he asks her:
"'They say, Gütele, that you are wise. Tell me, then, I beg you, what is a soul?'
"She smiled and answered:
"Only all at once she grew sad, and tears filled her eyes.