Amsterdam is still a metropolis of capitalists, many of whom are of the Jewish race, while it is a principal European centre of the diamond trade. The famous banking system, established under guarantee of the city, in 1609, is described at length by Adam Smith in his “Wealth of Nations.”
“Public utility,” he writes, “and not revenue was the original object of this institution. Its object was to relieve the merchants from the inconvenience of a disadvantageous exchange.” The bank was under the control of four reigning burgomasters, who were changed every year.
The opulence of Amsterdam is apparent to the stranger who roams its streets to-day. Factories abound, artificers are numerous, and everywhere there are evidences of a prosperity that recalls the day when most of the business of Europe was transacted in these narrow, twisted streets, and a large fleet of vessels traded with the Indies.
Here several renowned printers set up their presses in the seventeenth century, and many famous books were printed in the city. During the following century Amsterdam still remained the great commercial capital of Europe.
The immigration of Spanish and Portuguese Jews into Holland brought to the city a fresh class of artisans, and gave an impulse to several crafts. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there was a vigorous intellectual development in Amsterdam. Several notable men were natives. Spinoza was born here, in 1632, after the routing of the Spanish forces. His parents were traders, Jewish fugitives from Spain.
Baruch, or Bendictus, Spinoza excelled even his tutors at the age of fourteen, and the Rabbin Saul Levi Morteira was astounded by the boy’s capacity for learning. A troubled, but resplendent life lay before this dark-eyed Hebrew youth. He was of the order of reformers, and shared the griefs and the trials of all who strive to benefit humanity.
Persecution pursued Spinoza from the day when he conflicted with Morteira in the synagogue, uttering opinions which were regarded as dire heresy. We read of attempts upon his life, of excommunication, and of ostracism. The philosopher supported himself by polishing lenses for telescopes and optical instruments, until he was able to leave Amsterdam for the University of Leyden. Later came recognition with the publication of the great “Tractatus.”
When offered a pension by the King of France, the philosopher refused it, fearing that if he became a slave of the State, he might sacrifice his liberty of thought. Spinoza lived in extreme simplicity, it is said that he spent only twopence-farthing a day on his needs. His temper was equable. “Reason is my delight,” he declared. “A virtuous life is not a sad and gloomy one.”
Strange that this noble and tolerant thinker should have been described as an enemy of humanity. “The God-intoxicated man,” as Novalis said of Spinoza, was accused of atheism in a day when philosophic doubt was synonymous with crime. It was only such thinkers as Hegel, Lessing, Goethe and Schelling who were able to appraise Spinoza at his true value. For the uncultured he remained for generations an enemy of virtue.
In Amsterdam Spinoza formed at least a measure of toleration among the citizens. He writes: “In the midst of this flourishing republic, this great city, men of all nations and all sects live together in the most perfect harmony.”