Eliezer of Beaugency and Moses of Paris (middle of the twelfth century) were doubtless among the disciples of Samuel ben Meir. Moses of Paris, in turn, had a pupil by the name of Gabriel.
Occasionally Rashbam did not disdain the Midrash. But the same cannot be said of his friend and collaborator Joseph ben Simon Kara (born about 1060-1070, died about 1130-1140), a nephew and disciple of Menahem ben Helbo, and the friend if not the disciple of Rashi, to whom he acknowledges himself indebted. He wrote additions to Rashi's commentaries, and on Rashi's advice wrote a part of his Biblical commentaries, several of which have been published. They enjoyed great vogue, and in certain manuscripts they are set alongside of, or replace, Rashi's commentaries. They fully deserve the honor; for, in fact, Joseph Kara surpasses Rashi and rivals Rashbam in his fair-minded criticism, his scrupulous attachment to the literal meaning, and his absolutely clear idea of the needs of a wholesome exegesis, to say nothing of his theological views, which are always remarkable and sometimes bold. He frankly rejected the Midrash, and compares the person making use of it to the drowning man who clutches at a straw. Contrary to tradition he denies that Samuel was the author of the Biblical book bearing his name.
Side by side with Joseph Kara belongs his rival and younger contemporary Joseph Bekor-Shor, doubtless the same person as Joseph ben Isaac, of Orleans, who was a disciple of Rabbenu Tam, and must, therefore, have lived in the middle of the twelfth century. His commentary on the Pentateuch, which has been published in part, is frequently cited by later exegetes, and its reputation is justified by its keen insight and its vein of odd originality. Joseph Bekor-Shor had felt the influence of the Spaniards, but he had yielded to the attractions of Talmudic dialectics, which he had acquired at a good school, although, like his master, he cites, in connection with the Bible, a certain Obadiah.
<I>Quae secutae sunt magis defieri quam narrari possunt.</I> In the works of the second half of the twelfth century this fault becomes more and more perceptible, and signs of decadence begin to appear. Moreover, the writings at this time were very numerous, fostering, and, in turn, stimulated by, anti-Christian polemics. The greater number of the Tossafists study the Bible in conjunction with the Talmud. Citations are made of explanations or Biblical commentaries by Jacob of Orleans, Moses of Pontoise, Isaac the Elder, Isaac the Younger, Judah Sir Leon, Jehiel of Meaux, and Moses of Coucy. All these rabbis wrote Tossafot to the Bible as well as to the Talmud. This comparative study of Bible and Talmud was continued for some time, untill [until sic] at the beginning of the thirteenth century intellectual activity was exhausted. Original works were replaced by a large number of compilations, all related to one another, since the authors copied without scruple and pillaged without shame.
Chief among these works, which bear the general title of Tossafot to the Torah and some of which have been printed, are <I>Hazzekuni,</I> by Hezekiah ben Manoah (about 1240), <I>Gan</I>[143] (Garden), by Aaron ben Joseph, (about 1250), <I>Daat Zekenim</I> (Knowledge of the Ancients), in which many exegetes are cited (after 1252), <I>Paaneah Razah</I> (Revealer of the Mystery), by Isaac ben Judah ha-Levi (about 1300), <I>Minhat Yehudah</I> (Offering of Judah), by Judah ben Eliezer (or Eleazar), of Troyes (1313), <I>Hadar Zekenim</I> (Glory of the Ancients; beginning of the fourteenth century), and <I>Imre Noam</I> (Pleasant Words), by Jacob of Illescas (middle of the fourteenth century).
All these works were more or less inspired by Rashi, and some, such as <I>Hazzekuni,</I> might be called super-commentaries to Rashi. But these disciples were not true to the spirit of the master. They gave themselves up to the Haggadah more than he did, and also to a thing unknown to him, Gematria and mystical exegesis. Thus this French school, which for nearly a century had shone with glowing brilliance, now threw out only feeble rays, and abandoned itself more and more to the subtleties of the Midrash, to the fancifulness of the Gematria. It almost consigned to oblivion the great productions in rational exegesis, always excepting Rashi's commentaries, the popularity of which never waned, as much because of the author's renown as because of his concessions to the Midrash.
It remained for a Christian exegete to free rational exegesis from the discredit into which it had fallen. The ecclesiastical commentators even more than the authors of the Biblical Tossafot were steeped in allegorism and mysticism; but among them were some who cultivated the interpretation of the literal meaning of Scriptures, and even appealed to Jewish scholars for explanations'. Unfortunately, Rashi's works, written in a language unintelligible to the Christians, could not in any degree influence a general intellectual movement.
However, exception must be made of the celebrated Franciscan monk Nicholas de Lyra (born about 1292, died in 1340), author of the <I>Postillae perpetuae</I> on the Bible which brought him the title of <I>doctor planus et utilis.</I> Nicholas de Lyra possessed knowledge rare among Christians, knowledge of the Hebrew language, and he knew Hebrew so well that he was thought to be a converted Jew. In his works, polemical in character, he comes out against the mystical tendencies in the interpretations of the rabbis, and does not spare Rashi, even attributing to him explanations nowhere existing in Rashi's writings. But these criticisms of his, as he himself says, are "extremely rare." Moreover he does not refrain from accepting for his own purposes a large number of Midrashim borrowed from Rashi. It was from Rashi's commentaries, in fact, that he learned to know rabbinical literature - only to combat it. On one occasion he said, "I usually follow Rabbi Solomon, whose teachings are considered authoritative by modern Jews." He sometimes modified the text of the Vulgate according to the explanations of the rabbi, and his commentary on the Psalms, for instance, is often only a paraphrase of Rashi's. For this reason Nicholas de Lyra was dubbed, it must be admitted somewhat irreverently, <i>simia Salomonis,</I> Rashi's Ape. Nevertheless, he exercised great influence in ecclesiastical circles, comparable to that of Rashi among the Jews. His commentary was called "the common commentary." Possibly it was in imitation of Nicholas's work that the name <I>glosa hebraica</I> (the Hebrew commentary), or simply <I>glosa,</I> was bestowed upon Rashi's work by a Christian author of the thirteenth century, who, if not the famous scholar and monk Roger Bacon, must have been some one of the same type. Another Christian exegete of the same period, William of Mara, cites Rashi's commentary under the title of Perus. The admiration felt for Nicholas de Lyra, which now seems somewhat excessive, is expressed in the well-known proverb: <I>Si Lyra non lyrasset, totus mondus delirasset.</I> A modification of the proverb, <i>si Lyra non lyrasset, Lutherius non saltasset,</I> is not an exaggeration; for the works of the Franciscan monk were soon translated into German, and they exercised a profound influence on the leader of the Reformation when he composed the translation of the Bible, epoch-making in the history of literature as well as of religion. It is known that Luther had large knowledge of the Hebrew and a strong feeling for it, a quality he owed to Nicholas de Lyra and, through him, to the Jewish exegetes, although his scornful pride would never permit him to concede that "Rashi and the Tossafists made Nicholas de Lyra and Nicholas de Lyra made Luther."
At the time when Rashi's influence was thus extended to Christian circles, the Jewish schools called into being by his work and his teachings fell into decay on account of the persecutions that shook French Judaism to its foundations and almost deprived it of existence. This shows how firmly intellectual activities are bound up with temporal fortunes - a truth manifested in the period of growth and maturity and illustrated afresh in the period of decadence.
Even after the First Crusade, the situation of the jews of France had remained favorable. It did not perceptibly change as a result of the various local disorders marking the Second Crusade. Nevertheless, the second half of the twelfth century witnessed the uprise of accusations of ritual murder and piercings of the host. Popular hatred and mistrust were exploited by the greedy kings. Philip Augustus expelled the Jews from his domain in 1181, though he recalled them in 1198. Yet the example had been set, and the security of the Jews was done for. The lords and bishops united to persecute them, destroy their literary treasures, and paralyze their intellectual efforts. They found the right king for their purposes in St. Louis, a curious mixture of tolerance and bigotry, of charity and fanaticism. "St. Louis sought to deprive the Jews of the book which in all their trials was their supreme consolation, the refuge of their souls against outside clamor and suffering, the only safeguard of their morality, and the bond maintaining their religious oneness - the Talmud." In 1239 an apostate, Nicholas Donin, of La Rochelle, denounced the Talmud to Gregory IX. The Pope ordered the seizure of all copies, and an investigation of the book. In France the mandate was obeyed, and a disputation took place at Paris. Naturally, the Talmud was condemned, and twenty - four cartloads of Hebrew books were consigned to the flames. The <I>auto-da-fe</I> of 1242 marks the decadence of an entire literature, the ruin of brilliant schools, and the check to the movement so gloriously inaugurated by Rashi. All the living forces of French Judaism were deeply affected.