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The MENORAH JOURNAL

CONTENTS

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Classic Casts of Sculpture FOR HOME, SCHOOL, LIBRARY AND CLUBROOM DECORATION Michelangelo's MOSES, shown herewith, may be obtained in the following sizes: 1279 3 ft. 1 in.        $25.00 1279A 2 ft. 12.00 1279B        1 ft. 7 in. 6.00 Special discount from these prices to Menorah Societies and Menorah Members Boston Sculpture Co. 67 Sudbury St. Boston              Mass.

(Signed) Benjamin S. Pouzzner. Sworn to and subscribed before me this 21st day of April, 1915. (Signed) Margaret M. Murphy. (My commission expires March 30, 1916.)

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Copyright by Curtis & Cameron

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the
Menorah Journal

[141]

The Potency of the Jewish Race

By Charles W. Eliot

CHARLES WILLIAM ELIOT (born in Boston, 1834), preëminent as educator and publicist; for forty years President of Harvard University; revered not only by Harvard men but by all Americans as a great leader of thought and opinion. Dr. Eliot warmly welcomed the organization of the first Menorah Society at Harvard, in 1906; and to his encouragement is due in large measure the growth of the Menorah movement. At a time when the problems and lessons of the war are absorbing his attention, Dr. Eliot has generously shown his continued sympathy with the Menorah aims and his interest in the Menorah Journal by preparing this article.

The assimilation of different races can be brought about only by a gradual acceptance of the same ideals and aspirations. For several centuries this process of assimilation has been going on[142] in many parts of the earth, and is now going on at an accelerated pace, resulting in larger conceptions of nationality and larger political or governmental units.

The Jews have always been distinguished for their respect for learning and their zeal for education. In the Ghettos of Europe, under the most discouraging conditions, their Rabbis kept alive the ancient learning, and through many centuries gave the elite of the rising generation some mental training, when no instruction was to be had by the masses of mankind. A persecuted race, provided it retains its vitality and elasticity, receives admirable training in loyalty to its ideals. In the case of the Jews this was a loyalty not only to race, but to religion; and religious loyalty is the finest and most sustaining of all loyalties. The religion of the Jews emphasizes an ideal to which the Jewish mind and heart have responded ardently from the earliest times—the ideal of righteousness. Loyalty to this ideal includes loyalty to race, family, religion, and all righteous persons. The Jews believe that righteousness alone exalteth a nation, a family, or a man.

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Israel and Medicine

By Sir William Osler

SIR WILLIAM OSLER (born in Ontario, Canada, in 1849) Regius Professor of Medicine at Oxford and one of the world's leading medical authorities; distinguished not merely as investigator, teacher, and practitioner, but also as essayist and ethical teacher of singular grace and humanity, as shown in the volumes entitled "Aequanimitas" and "Counsels and Ideals." The present address, delivered in London at the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Jewish Historical Society of England, is here given its first publication in this country, with Sir William's special authorization.

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[148]

"A Monsieur Silva, Esculape François. Recevez cet hommage de votre frère en Apollon. Ce Dieu vous a laissé son plus bel héritage, tous les Dons de l'esprit, tous ceux de la raison, et je n'eus que des Vers, hélas, pour mon partage."

I have always had a warm affection for my Jewish students, and the friendships I have made with them have been among the special pleasures of my life. Their success has always been a great gratification, as it has been the just reward of earnestness and tenacity of purpose and devotion to high ideals in science; and, I may add, a dedication of themselves as practitioners to everything that could promote the welfare of their patients. In the medical profession the Jews had a long and honorable record, and among no people is all that is best in our science and art more warmly appreciated; none in the community take more to heart the admonition of the son of Sirach, "Give place to the physician, let him not go from thee, for thou hast need of him."

[150]

The War from a Jewish Standpoint

By Richard Gottheil

RICHARD GOTTHEIL (born in Manchester, England, in 1862; came to New York in 1873), educated at Columbia and at German Universities; since 1887 Professor of Semitic Languages and Rabbinical Literature at Columbia. Apart from his scholarly labors, Professor Gottheil has devoted himself body and soul to many Jewish causes, notably Zionism, in which he has been a leader in America from the beginning. He was among the first to extend an encouraging hand to the Menorah movement and has responded generously to repeated calls to lecture before Menorah Societies. The present article is based upon an address recently delivered before the Cornell Menorah Society.

I believe that it is eminently the moment to do so. We refuse to believe that the great waste of human life and energy now going on in Europe is a waste pure and simple. We refuse to believe that some purification is not to result from the fire through which mankind is passing, and that some sanity in handling human affairs is not to follow the evident insanity with which we are now confronted. Something a little more stable because a little more reasonable must appear at the end to replace the inconstancy and unrest which have up to now characterized the relations of peoples to each other. And as we hope this for the world at large, we are hopeful too that full attention will be given to those problems which concern the Jews specifically. I wish then to indicate the chief among these problems, in order that we may ourselves see clearly the road that must be taken.

Proof that such feelings are making their way among the most intelligent portion of the Russian population is shown by the remarkable document put forth some weeks ago over the signatures of noted Christian professors, litterateurs, and members of the Duma, in which the plea is made for the removal of all restrictions that at present shackle the Jews. "Let[153] us understand," they say, "that the welfare and the power of Russia are inseparably bound up with the welfare and liberties of all the nationalities that constitute the whole Empire. Let us then conceive this truth. Let us act in accordance with our intelligence and our conscience, and then we are sure that the disappearance of all kinds of persecution of the Jews and their complete emancipation, so as to be our equals in all rights of citizenship, will form one of the conditions of a real constructive imperial policy." And we are the more persuaded that these views will prevail when we remember that Russia has been brought into closer contact with just those nations of Europe where Jewish emancipation has been most perfect and has brought forth the best fruits. It is unthinkable that these nations should fail to put their influence on the side of Jewish freedom in Russia when European accounts are finally balanced.[B]

But the last twenty-five years have witnessed a conscious effort to make of Palestine a rallying point for the Jewish people, a place where Jewish life may be lived to its fullest extent and which may serve as a beacon light to all parts of the Diaspora. Many a waste place has been made to blossom again; and much of the culture and learning acquired by the Jews in the long centuries of toil and effort has been made available to revivify the Land of Promise. With infinite pains and untold sacrifices the Jewish pioneers went forward in their peaceful effort to regain the soil of their forefathers. Colonies have been founded there; primary schools, high schools and technical institutions have been established, and many of the forces have been started that make the foundation for a permanent settlement. This conscious effort can not have been put forth in vain. Palestine represents the goal of our endeavor. And any settlement after[155] the war that has in view the general problems involved will be forced to take cognizance of the just hopes that we Jews place in the future of that country and the just rights that the Jewish people believe they possess and have acquired there. The form in which such rights shall be expressed is not a matter for discussion at present. The fact alone is of importance. In the past the world has applauded the fight made by the Poles for their national existence; it has followed with interest the Greek War of Independence, the Italian striving for unity, the Irish endeavors for racial autonomy, and the Alsatian effort after independent expression. It must and will appreciate and esteem the attempt made by the Jews to re-fashion their anomalous status and to re-create the statehood that they lost nearly two thousand years ago.

First of all, what we must deplore most is the defiance to law and to its reign which has become so marked a characteristic during the present war. The agreements arrived at in conventions, the bases of treaties, the binding character of compacts, and the sanctity of engagements—all seem to have been thrown into one melting pot. The mere fact that the expression "a scrap of paper" has become a household word, bandied about by orators and scribblers, shows the distance we have descended into the abyss. The whole structure of our international relations seems to have fallen to the ground and the labored work of centuries to have been undone in a few months. Now, the Jews have been from the earliest times a people that have laid the greatest possible stress upon the rule of law; so much so, that their own laws were supposed to have divine sanction. In olden Jewish times everything was regulated by law—man's relation to his fellow men, to the state, and to God; to such a degree that we have been blamed often for being a law-ridden people. We cannot, therefore, remain oblivious to the fact that the sanctity of law has now been rudely called into question and its authority greatly weakened. As Jews we must be deeply concerned in assisting the European world back to a full consciousness of the majesty and eminence of the rule of law.

But more than that, it was part of our earliest teaching that "thou[156] shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." What clouds of hatred have not been blown from one line of trenches to the other! What volumes of spleen have not been sent from one country to the other! In countless speeches, in newspapers and in books, the doctrines of dislike, of animosity, of deepest malice have been preached. Men have been taught to look upon certain neighbors as born enemies, to see in those who do not speak their own tongue not only a stranger but an enemy. Back of the soldiers under arms, back of the cannons with their deadly missiles, stand millions of loathing men and women shooting darts of odium that reach further than any shell and that are more poisonous than any gas. When shall we be able once again to preach the beautiful teaching of the prophet, "Have we not all one Father; hath not one God created us all?"

And lastly, we must bear in mind that the Jews have been opposed from of old to the rule and reign of might as represented by the God of War. In a syllabus on the history of the Peace Movement just published by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, it is passing strange to find that the Old Testament is entirely overlooked and that from the first point, "The Cosmopolitan Ideal among the Greek Philosophers," the jump is made at once to the second, "Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace." And yet we know that in the outlook of our greatest teachers and philosophers the vision of peace loomed large and powerful. "Ye shall not teach war any more," said one of our greatest. And for another the true sign of his prophetic mission is that he preached peace. How sadly these teachings have been belied in the present war we know only too well.

In a very remarkable article which appeared in the Nineteenth Century for last September, written by a man evidently most religiously minded, appears the following: "Is the heart of England still strong to bear and to resolve and to endure? How shall we know? By the test? What test? That which God has given for the trial of people—the test of war. The real court, the only court in which this case can and will be tried, is the court of God. This twentieth century will see that trial, and whichever people shall have in it the greater soul of righteousness will be the victor. The discovery that Christianity is incompatible with the military spirit is made only among decaying people. While the nation is still vigorous, while its population is expanding, while the blood in its veins is strong, then on this hope no scruples are felt. But when its energies begin to wither, when self-indulgence takes the place of self-sacrifice, when its sons and daughters become degenerate, then it is that a spurious and bastard humanitarianism masquerading as religion declares war to be an anachronism and a barbaric sin."

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O Sweet Anemones

By Jessie E. Sampter

This Song is one of a series put into the mouth of a nationalist Pharisee of Jerusalem living through the times of the coming of Jesus to Jerusalem and the later development or perversion of Jesus' ideals by Paul.

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"Paths of Pleasantness"

The Study of the Jewish Law

By David Werner Amram

DAVID WERNER AMRAM (born in Philadelphia, 1866), educated at the University of Pennsylvania, has been Lecturer and since 1912 Professor of Law in the University of Pennsylvania Law School. Professor Amram has published books and articles not only on common law topics but on interesting subjects in Jewish legal lore and belles-lettres, among his books being: "The Jewish Law of Divorce," "Leading Cases in the Bible," and "The Makers of Hebrew Books in Italy."

Properly understood, however, the term "the people of the law" is a title of honor, one of which we may well be proud. As used in our literature and by our people, "law" signifies something more than civil and criminal jurisprudence. It is our word "Torah," meaning doctrine, teaching, including not only what is generally known as law but also what is known as ethics. The people of the law is the people that studies the[160] great thoughts of its great men of all times, and adopts them as rules of life which it becomes a duty and a pleasure to obey. The people of the law is the people that in the midst of a world of chaos in which nation fought nation with the weapons of death, sat in communion with a past world from which came such messages as this: "Attend to me, O my people: and give ear unto me, O my nation: for a law shall go forth from me, and I will make my judgment to rest for a light to the peoples. . . . . Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law; fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye dismayed at their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool: but my righteousness shall be forever and my salvation unto all generations." Righteousness was the aspect of Deity that appealed to the second Isaiah, and it was he that spoke words of comfort to our people in all the days of their endless tribulations. The certain faith in the ultimate success of right sustained them throughout the centuries and constitutes their strength to-day. This is the law that was handed down to them from of old, the law of right, which though often broken, often forgotten, was always found again and cherished as the one thing worth while in a world torn by the brutal instincts in man—instincts which the law had chained and sought to make harmless.

So we may well cling to our title of the people of the law, remembering that it does not mean merely Nomos, as the Hellenized Jews mistranslated Torah, but legal and ethical doctrine and knowledge in its broadest sense, and that it is the people of the law that have always shown their love of knowledge and found it "a tree of life to those that lay fast hold on it." Some ancient Jewish mystic said that the sword and the book came out of heaven together and Israel had to choose. Israel did choose and thereafter dreamed of days when swords would be beaten into ploughshares.

The effect of the dispersion of the Jews was to give a peculiar sacredness to the law as the sole heritage of their earlier and happier days. In most of the lands of their dispersion, the Jews dwelt a race apart, separated from the rest of the community by mutual prejudices and antagonisms. The soil on which they dwelt was so far as ultimate overlordship was concerned the land of the stranger, but nevertheless in a very definite and[161] special sense it was the Jews' own land. For it was a land in which the law of the stranger was not the law. The law of the land of their dispersion was not the law of the owner of the soil but the law of the Jews. In this sense the Ghettos of Italy and the Gassen of Germany were not so much Italian and German soil as they were Jewish. As by the modern fiction of extraterritoriality the home of an Ambassador is considered part of his own national territory, so these exclusively Jewish settlements were colonies of Judæa planted on foreign soil. They were separated from the rest of the land by visible or invisible walls, and within these walls, hardly touched by the influences that were at work shaping the life around them, the ancient law of the Jews was preserved and handed down from generation to generation. Hence during the Middle Ages the student of the law became the most important member of the community, and all the energy of the community that was not required to outwit the constant menace of brutal force and religious persecution was devoted to the cultivation of the law and of the literature that it gave rise to.

It should be noted, however, that since the beginning of the Talmudic period, the civil law developed in certain directions only, because after all the Jewish people had no land of their own in the usual sense and no central authority and were constantly moving from place to place, always subject to persecution. Some branches of their law were entirely neglected and others abnormally developed.

The law students met twice a year in assembly for examination. Their studies were pursued at home, except in the months of Elul and Adar when they went up to the Assembly. Here they were arranged in classes and under the direction of their masters heard lectures and discussed the subject matter presented to them topically. At these Assemblies actual questions[162] of law were submitted from Jewish communities all over the Jewish world, and the solutions to these problems were prepared and forwarded by the great masters. In addition to these professional schools there were everywhere general schools or, as we might say, high schools connected with the synagogues. It is a tribute to the importance that was ascribed to the high schools in later generations that their origin was projected back to the days of the Flood when Shem and Eber established a law school in which subsequently Isaac, Jacob, and Rebecca heard lectures. It will be noted that according to this bit of folklore Rebecca was the first woman law student. The same fancy which invented this most ancient of the schools, also invented the law school which Judah built for Jacob in Egypt, and the school established by Moses in which he and Aaron were the professors and Joshua was the janitor.

From all of these traditions it will be seen that to the ancients the study of the law was the chief end of man. The Jew never considered ignorance to be bliss and has little sympathy with the religious ideal of many non-Jewish people that religion is more important than knowledge. One of the great masters even went so far as to say that the ignorant man cannot be pious. It was Simon the Just, one of the survivors of the Men of the Great Synagogue, who said that the world stands upon three things, the law, the service of God, and charity, and he put the law first, for the first duty of a man is to observe the law. He must be just before he can be charitable.

At one time it was sought to place some limitations upon the right to become a student of law, and herein the schools of Hillel and Shammai differed. Hillel was the democrat who held that all persons, without exception, should enjoy the privilege of studying law; Shammai was the intellectual aristocrat who sought to limit this privilege to those who were wise, modest, of ample means and of goodly parentage, thereby establishing rules similar to those that obtain in the best modern law schools, which require a collegiate education as a preliminary to admission; but Shammai went further in that he required the students to be wise and[163] modest as well as persons of good breeding and of ample fortune. Just how many of our modern law students could meet these requirements is a question upon which I have no statistics. On this very matter of the proper qualifications for admission to the privilege of studying law, we have heard much in our time. Perhaps a contribution to the subject from the old and somewhat neglected Code of the Mishnah would not be inappropriate. The Mishnah says:

The Jews loved the law and respected it and they honored its expounders and administrators. They do not believe that the world can be made over or made better by any man or by any preaching. They are by instinct conservative, holding on with tenacity to the ideas and institutions that have grown up in past times and that are expressions of the needs of society and of its adjustment to the forces that play upon it. This is why the law, which is the embodiment of these conservative forces, meets with their respect and allegiance, why its study was cultivated with such zeal in the past, and why in our own day it still finds so large a percentage of votaries among the sons of our people.

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The Jewish Genius in Literature

A Study of Three Modern Men of Letters

By Edward Chauncey Baldwin

EDWARD CHAUNCEY BALDWIN (born in Cornwall, Conn., 1870), Assistant Professor of English in the University of Illinois, has taken a special and scholarly interest in the contributions of the Jews to civilization, on which subject he has written a notable book entitled "Our Modern Debt to Israel," besides articles in various periodicals. He is an honorary member of the Illinois Menorah Society, evincing a warm sympathy with the Menorah aims and actively coöperating in the Menorah work.

Not only was Heine a Jew in his instinctive racial sympathies, but his work bears the indelible impress of Judaism. It is a distinctively Jewish product. In it appear the buoyancy of spirit which sustained him under suffering that would have crushed a less resilient temper; the intellectual arrogance; the proneness to censure rather than to commend; and especially the excessive self-consciousness;—all these distinctively Jewish traits were in him exaggerated and helped to make his work what it was. It is his self-consciousness, in particular, that made his Buch der Lieder his best production. In that remarkable collection of lyrics Heine appears at his best, because the ability to compose songs that are the spontaneous utterance of emotion, at one and the same time personal and representative, is a Hebrew heritage. The Hebrew genius was essentially lyric, rather than epic or dramatic; and in consequence, the lyrics of ancient Hebrew literature are its chief glory. In proof of this, we have but to recall the dirges and triumph songs, the reflective lyrics, and the liturgical hymns that compose the collection we know as the Psalms. The excellence of both the old Hebrew lyrics and of Heine's Lieder is to be found in the extraordinary subjectivity of the Hebrew temper—the racial fondness for impassioned, yet artistic, self-expression.

Yet Heine's Jewish traits are evident not only in the subjectivity of his lyrics, but in the new and richer character that he gave to the German Lied. This, hitherto vague and dreamy, became in his hands startlingly concrete and definite. And this is true even when he expresses the most subtle feelings. Always the most evanescent Stimmung, not less than moods more primitively simple, find expression in metaphors so sensuously material as to recall Solomon's Song. Compare a typical lyric of Heine, such as the following:

To find an equally beautiful expression of faith in God as a universal spiritual presence that transcends all space relations, we must go back to the anonymous Jewish poet who wrote the psalm in which occur the lines:

It is Disraeli's Jewish characteristics that have bewildered and sometimes offended his critics. He has been charged with insincerity because he was so clever, and because he wrote with a kind of Oriental exuberance that was to him entirely natural and a part of his Jewish heritage. Gilfillan is the only critic, so far as I know, who has recognized that Disraeli's excellences, and his defects as well, were racial rather than individual. Speaking of his Oriental fancy and cleverness, Gilfillan says: "Disraeli has a fine fancy, soaring up at intervals into high imagination, and making him a genuine child of that nation from whom came forth the loftiest, richest, and most impassioned songs the earth has ever witnessed—the nation of Isaiah, Ezekiel, Solomon, and Job. He has little humor, but a vast deal of diamond-pointed wit."[E]

"You eat nothing, Apollo," said Ceres.

"Nor drink," said Neptune.

"To eat, to drink, what is it but to live; and what is life but death. . . . I refresh myself now only with soda-water and biscuits. Ganymede, bring some."

Now this fondness for veiled allusion is distinctly a Hebrew characteristic. The Arabs today have a saying, "as fond of a veiled allusion as a Hebrew." This has always been a Hebrew trait. I suppose no literature[169] of any people consists so largely of allegory, in proportion to its bulk, as does the Hebrew. In proof of this assertion, one needs but to allude to the vogue in post-exilic Judaism of the Apocalypse, in which contemporary history was presented in the form of allegory, and to the Rabbinical fondness for the allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures. So it would not be difficult to show that not only these qualities I have mentioned, but all the qualities that made Disraeli admired or feared were his by virtue of his Jewish inheritance.

Inconsistent he certainly is. He has been an ardent Zionist, and in his story "Transitional" (from They That Walk in Darkness) he seems to hold that assimilation will never solve the Jewish problem; yet in The Melting Pot he obviously regards assimilation as the inevitable and desirable end of Judaism.

In spite of his inconsistencies, Zangwill is one in whom the ancient ideals of Israel live again. It is in the spirit of the prophets that he wrote The War God (1912). This play, with all its faults as an acting drama, is nevertheless a remarkable document, voicing, as it does, on the very eve of the breaking down of European civilization, the old prophetic protest against the brutality and waste of war.

This protest dates back to at least the ninth century b.c. It may not be generally known that it was a Hebrew prophet who first advocated the humane treatment of prisoners of war. The story is told in the Second Book of Kings that when a band of marauding Syrians were corralled in Samaria, the "king of Israel said unto Elisha, when he saw them, 'My father, shall I smite them? Shall I smite them?' And he answered, 'Thou shalt not smite them: wouldst thou smite those whom thou has taken captive with thy sword and with thy bow? Set bread and water before them, that they may eat and drink, and go to their master.' And he prepared great provision for them: and when they had eaten and drunk, he sent them away, and they went to their master. So the bands of Syria came no more into the land of Israel" (2 Kings 6:1-23). Again, Amos, in the eighth century, in his arraignment of the sins of the nations, pronounces God's severest judgments upon Damascus, Edom, Ammon, and Moab for their cruelty in war. The charge against Edom, for example, is that "he did pursue his brother with the sword, and did cast off all pity, and his[170] anger did tear perpetually, and he kept his wrath forever." And the later prophets' visions of the Messianic age include as the brightest feature of that wished-for time the prediction that then "the nations shall not learn war any more."

Of such a spirit Mr. Zangwill's play The War God is an expression. It is a satire upon militarism, but a satire without exaggeration. The arguments employed to justify the maintenance of a huge army and navy are not a whit more absurd than the fallacies which have been put forth for a generation by those who would justify the maintenance of armaments. These so-called arguments are presented by "the Chancellor" who represents Bismarck, and by the king of Gothia, in whom we may easily recognize the Russian Czar. "Dominance," roars the Chancellor,—

In opposition to such militarists stands Count Frithiof, in whom we may easily see the lineaments of Tolstoi. His motto is, "Resist not evil, but reform yourself." In answer to the Chancellor's declaration, "To safeguard peace, we must prepare for war," he replies,

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So might have spoken one of the ancient prophets of his race. Indeed Amos, amid the orgies of the autumn festival at Bethel, did speak in the same spirit when he denounced the formal service of worshippers who ignored the claims of social justice. "Seek good and not evil," cries Amos, "that ye may live; and so the Lord, the God of hosts, shall be with you, as ye say. Hate the evil, and love the good, and establish judgment (justice) in the gate. It may be that the Lord God of hosts will be gracious unto the remnant of Joseph."

So it is evident that even the literary work of modern Jews can be understood and appreciated only as an expression of the characteristics of the Jewish race. In this modern Jewish literature appears the exuberance, the emotional intensity, and the love of social justice that were characteristic also of ancient Hebrew literature as written by prophet, priest, and sage.

Similarly Israel, through the long centuries of its tragic history, has stood on the ash-mound of its national humiliation. Plundered, vilified, and persecuted, a nation of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, from whom men have hid their faces in aversion not concealed, Israel has yet clung with[172] a grip that nothing could weaken nor dislodge to the fundamental idea that religion—the right relation of man to God—was not creed nor ritual, but simply doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God.

We have been looking backward at the literary accomplishment of three Jewish men of genius. It is, I believe, a fault of modern Judaism to look backward instead of forward, as if the glory of Israel had indeed departed, and as if nothing were left but to look back with pride and regret upon what has passed like a dream away. But I believe Jews may look forward now with confident hope toward the years that are to be. That Israel has completely played its role—that it has finished its service to the world—cannot for a moment entertain. Surely no one who believes in a philosophy of history, who sees in human history more than a meaningless and unrelated succession of events, can think that Israel has been preserved through centuries of discipline for no end whatever. On the contrary, we must believe that Israel has still a mission. What that mission is to be we cannot now foretell. We of this generation are looking upon the breaking down of European civilization. Some of us hope and expect that when the smoke of battle has cleared away there will gradually be built up a new and better social order. In this constructive work of rebuilding, who is better fitted to take a prominent part than the Jew, with his noble heritage of ideals, his passion for social justice? Jews may well rejoice as they reflect upon what individual members of their race have through literature contributed to the emancipation of the human spirit. And they may rejoice also in the hope of what Israel may yet accomplish in the years that are to be.

[173]

Jochanan ben Zakkai

By Abraham M. Simon

ABRAHAM M. SIMON (born in Kalvaria, Russian-Poland, in 1886; came to America in 1904) received his A.B. with honors from Harvard College in 1910, and his M.A. from the University of Pennsylvania in 1911. During 1910-11 he was a Fellow in the Dropsie College for Hebrew and Cognate Learning of Philadelphia, and he spent the summer of 1911 at the Bodleian Library at Oxford and the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, reading and copying Arabic manuscripts. In 1913 he won his Ph.D. in Semitics at the University of Pennsylvania. Mr. Simon was one of the original members of the Harvard Menorah Society, and read a Hebrew poem Ner Yisrael ("The Light of Israel") at the dedicatory exercises of the Society.

Even before the destruction of Jerusalem, Jochanan's fame had spread far and wide. He was a member of the Synhedrion and taught the holy law within the shadow of the Temple. His school was called the "Great House," and was the scene of many incidents which formed the subjects for anecdote and legend. He was the first man who successfully combatted the Sadducees, and who knew how to refute their arguments, which were partly religious and partly juridical. But Jochanan's great fame was chiefly due to the influence which he afterwards exercised at Jabneh.

"Whose body do you carry here?" asked the Hebrew guard.

"We are carrying the crown of Israel, the body of our master, Rabbi Jochanan ben Zakkai," they answered in tears.

The captain of the guards was affected.

"Open the gates, men, and let them pass," the captain ordered.

"Are you sure, captain, that Rabbi Jochanan ben Zakkai is dead?" exclaimed one of the soldiers. "Maybe they are taking away a living traitor. I will make sure that he is dead."

He raised his dagger to strike at the shrouded form of the Rabbi.

"Hold, soldier!" cried the captain; "to dishonor the body of the saint would be a sin for which all Israel would have to atone. Open the gates and let them pass in peace."[175]

The fanatic reluctantly desisted; the gate was opened and the procession passed through.

Vespasian received the fugitive in a friendly manner, the more since, like Josephus, Jochanan prophesied imperial honors for the general. Asked to name the favor he desired, Rabbi Jochanan, instead of seeking personal gain, requested permission to establish a school at Jabneh (or, as the place is sometimes called, Jamnia), where he could continue to give his lectures to his disciples. The request was granted, and thereupon Jochanan settled with his disciples in Jabneh, there to await the issue of events.

What could Vespasian have thought of Rabbi Jochanan when he made his request? Any one else bearing such prophecies might have asked for gold, honor, great political preferments, while this Hebrew sage asked simply for a corner where he could study undisturbed. How could the Hebrew nation exist when the leaders, their great men, lacked ambition? Little did Vespasian dream that his granting of the Rabbi's modest request would undo the whole work of the Roman conquest.

Rabbi Jochanan's motto was: "If thou hast learnt much Torah, ascribe not any merit to thyself, for thereunto wast thou created." He found his real calling in the study of the Law. His knowledge was spoken of reverently as though it included the whole cycle of Jewish learning. And not only the Law but many languages of the Gentiles occupied the active mind of Rabbi Jochanan. The following description of him is handed down to us by tradition: "He had never been known to engage in any profane conversation. He had always been the first to enter the Academy. He never allowed himself, wittingly or unwittingly, to be overtaken by sleep while in the Academy. He had never gone a distance of four cubits without meditating on the Torah and without phylacteries. No one ever found him engaged in anything but study. He always lectured in person to his pupils. He never taught anything which he did not hear from his masters. He had never been heard to say that it was time to leave the Academy." He advised a certain family in Jerusalem, the members of which died young, to occupy itself with the study of the Torah, so as to mitigate the curse of dying in the prime of life.

In this manner Rabbi Jochanan explained many laws and rendered[177] them comprehensible, when they seemed obscure or extraordinary. Rabbi Jochanan's view of piety corresponded with his teaching tha