History of the Jews, Vol. 3 (of 6)

Certainly the exalted significance of Judaism and the people that confess it was never more eloquently preached. Thought and feelings, philosophy and poetry, all combined in this original system of Jehuda of Castile, in order to set up a sublime ideal, the point of union between heaven and earth.

Abulhassan Jehuda did not belong to that class of men who form noble conceptions, and lead a contemptible life. In him thought and deed were identical. As soon as he had come to the conclusion that the Hebrew language and the land of Canaan possessed a peculiarly divine character, that they were consecrated means for a holy purpose, this conviction governed his conduct. The treasures of his poetical genius were left uncultivated for a long time, because he considered it a profanation to employ the Hebrew language in imitating the Arabic measures. The philosopher-poet was firmly convinced, moreover, that the Holy Land bore traces of the divine grace. His poetic soul was filled with the spiritual glory of Palestine. From the decayed splendor of its desolate condition there still breathed a higher inspiration. The bitterest pangs of sorrow penetrated his heart at the thought of the sacred ruins. For him the gates of heaven were to be found now as ever at the doors of Jerusalem, and thence poured forth that divine grace which enabled the appreciative mind to attain to happiness and a higher state of repose. Thither would he go, there live according to the dictates of his innermost heart, and there would he be animated by the divine breath. When he began his work on the philosophy of religion, he spoke in mournful tones of the fact that he, like many others, was so insensible to the merits of the Holy Land, that, whilst with his lips he expressed a longing for it, he never attempted to realize this desire. The more, however, he meditated upon the importance of the Holy Land as a place where the divine gift of grace could be obtained, the stronger his determination grew to journey thither and there spend his last days.

This irresistible impulse towards Zion, the favored city, gave birth to a series of deeply impassioned songs, which are as full of true feeling as they are beautiful in form. The songs of Zion, composed by Jehuda Halevi, represent the most excellent fruits of neo-Hebraic poetry, and they may well be compared with the Psalms:

"O city of the world, with sacred splendor blest,My spirit yearns to thee from out the far-off West;Had I an eagle's wings, straight would I fly to thee,Moisten thy holy dust with wet cheeks streaming free."2"In the East, in the East, is my heart, and I dwell at the end of the West;How shall I join in your feasting, how shall I share in your jest,How shall my offerings be paid, my vows with performance be crowned,While Zion pineth in Edom's bonds, and I am pent in the Arab's bound!All the beauties and treasures of Spain are worthless as dust, in mine eyes;But the dust of the Lord's ruined house, as a treasure of beauty I prize."

This is the keynote of all the songs of Zion. But in how many and in what various ways does the poet skilfully manipulate his subject! What a wealth of sentiments, images and devices does he develop! The ancient days of Israel are idealized in his verses; the people of his own age at one time appear invested with the thorny crown of a thousand sufferings, and at another with the glittering diadem of a glorious hope. The contents of his lyrics unwittingly penetrate into the soul of the reader, and hurry him to and fro, from pain and woe to hope and rejoicing, and for a long time the deep impression remains, intermingled with feelings of enthusiasm and conviction.

The bard, who was thus inspired by the cause of his nation, busied himself in communicating to his brethren this deep longing for Jerusalem, and in arousing them to arrange some plan of return. One poem, in elevated and lovely strains, encouraged the people, "The Distant Dove," to leave the fields of Edom and Arab (Christendom and Mahometan countries), and to seek its native nest in Zion. But no answering echo was awakened. It was a sublime, ideal conception that enabled the pious poet-philosopher even to dream of so daring a flight.

The soul of Jehuda Halevi was drawn by invisible cords to Israel's ancient home, and he could not detach it from them. When he had concluded his immortal work, the dialogue of the Chozari (about 1141), he entertained serious thoughts of starting on his holy journey. He made no slight sacrifices to this remarkable, if somewhat adventurous, resolve. He exchanged a peaceful, comfortable life for one of disquietude and uncertainty, and left behind his only daughter and his grandson, whom he loved most dearly. He gave up his college which he had established in Toledo, and parted from a circle of disciples whom he loved as sons, and who in turn revered him as a father. He bade farewell to his numerous friends, who, without envy, praised him as a distinguished scholar. All this in his estimation was of little value in comparison with his love of God and the Holy Land. He desired to bring his heart as an offering to the sacred place, and to find his grave in sanctified earth.

Provided with ample means, Jehuda Halevi started on his journey, and his passage through Spain resembled a triumph. His numerous admirers in the towns through which he passed outvied each other in attentions to him. With a few faithful companions he took passage on board a vessel bound for Egypt. Confined in the narrow wooden cabins, where there was no room either to sit or to lie down, a mark for the coarse jests of the rough mariners, sea-sick and in weak health, his soul yet lost none of its power to elevate itself into a brighter sphere. His ideals were his most trusty companions. The storm which tossed the ships about on the waves like a plaything, when "between him and death there intervened only a board," unlocked the store of song within his breast. Of the sea he sang songs which for faithfulness of description and depth of feeling have few equals:

"The billows rage – exult, oh soul of mine,Soon shalt thou enter the Lord's sacred shrine!"3

Delayed by adverse winds, the ship arrived at Alexandria at the time of the Feast of Tabernacles (September), and Jehuda betook himself to his co-religionists, with the firm determination to spend but a short time with them, and never to forget the aim of his journey. But as soon as his name became known, all hearts were drawn towards him. The most distinguished man of the Alexandrian congregation, the physician and rabbi Aaron Ben-Zion Ibn-Alamâni, who was blessed with prosperity and children, and was himself a liturgical poet, hastened to receive him as a noble guest, showed him the highest honor, and placed his hospitable mansion at the disposal of Halevi and his comrades. Under the careful treatment of cordial friends, he recovered from the effects of his sea-voyage, and expressed his gratitude in beautiful Hebrew verses. The family of Ibn-Alamâni were so urgent in their desire to keep him with them, that in spite of his great longing for Jerusalem, he remained for nearly three months at Alexandria, till the Feast of Dedication. He tore himself away by force from such dear friends, and meant to go to the port of Damietta, where dwelt one of his best friends, Abu Said ben Chalfon Halevi, whose acquaintance he had made in Spain. He was, however, compelled to alter the course of his journey, for the Jewish prince Abu Mansur Samuel ben Chananya, who held a high post at the court of the Egyptian Caliph, sent him a pressing letter of invitation.

Abu Mansur, who dwelt in the palace of the Caliph, appears to have been the head of the Jewish congregations in Egypt, bearing the title of Prince (Nagid). Jehuda Halevi was the less able to decline this flattering invitation, as it was important for him to obtain from the Jewish prince, whose fame was wide-spread, letters of recommendation, facilitating the continuance of his pilgrimage to Palestine. Abu Mansur's hint that he was willing to aid him with large supplies of money, he delicately put aside in a letter, saying, that "God had blessed him so munificently with benefits that he had brought much with him from home, and had still left plenty behind." Soon after, he traveled to Cairo in a Nile boat. The wonderful river awoke in him memories of the Jewish past, and reminded him of his vow. He immortalized his reminiscences in two beautiful poems. He was warmly received by the Prince Abu Mansur in Cairo, and basked in the sunshine of his splendor, and sang of his liberality, renown, and of his three noble sons. He made but a brief stay in Cairo, and hastened to the port of Damietta, which he reached on the Fast of Tebeth (December, about 1141, 1142). Here he was well received by many friends, and especially by his old friend Abu Said Chalfon Halevi, a man of great distinction. He dedicated some beautiful poems of thanks to him and his other friends. These friends also attempted to dissuade him from proceeding to Palestine; they pictured to him the dangers which he would encounter, and reminded him that memories of the Divine grace in the early days of the history of the Jews were connected also with Egypt. He, however, replied, "In Egypt Providence manifested itself as if in haste, but it took up a permanent residence for the first time in the Holy Land." At length he parted from his friends and admirers, determined to carry his project into effect. It is not known at what place he next stopped.

In Palestine, at this time, Christian kings and princes, the kinsmen of the hero Godfrey of Bouillon, were the rulers, and these permitted the Jews again to dwell in the Holy Land, and in the capital, which had now become Christian. The country, at the time of Jehuda's pilgrimage, was undisturbed by war; for the Christians who had settled in Palestine a generation ago, the effeminate Pullani, loved peace, and purchased it at any price from their enemies, the Mahometan emirs. The Jews were also in favor at the petty courts of the Christian princes of Palestine, and a Christian bishop complained that owing to the influence of their wives, the princes placed greater confidence in Jewish, Samaritan, and Saracen physicians than in Latin (that is, Christian) ones. Probably the reason was because the latter were quacks.

Jehuda Halevi appears to have reached the goal of his desire, and to have visited Jerusalem, but only for a short time. The Christian inhabitants of the Holy City seem to have been very hostile to him, and to have inspired him with disgust for life in the capital. It is to this, probably, that his earnest, religious poem refers, in the middle verses of which he laments as follows:

"To see Thy glory long mine eye had yearned;But when at last I sought Thy Holy Place,As though I were a thing unclean and base,Back from Thy threshold was I rudely spurned.The burden of my folk I, too, must bear,And meekly bow beneath oppression's rod,Because I will not worship a false god,Nor, save to Thee, stretch forth my hands in prayer."

The closing adventures of his life, beyond the fact that he was at Tyre and at Damascus, are not known. The Jewish community at Tyre rendered great honor to him, and the memory of this treatment was impressed on his grateful heart. In a poem to his Tyrian friend he grieves over his faded hopes, his misspent youth, and his present wretchedness, in verses which cannot be read without stirring up emotions at the despondency of this valorous soldier. In Damascus he sang his swan-song, the glorious song of Zion, which, like the Psalms of Asaph, awake a longing for Jerusalem. The year of his death and the site of his grave are both unknown. A legend has it that a Mahometan horseman rode over him as he was chanting his mournful Lay of Zion. Thus reads a short epitaph which an unknown admirer wrote for him:

"Honor, Faith, and Gentleness, whither have ye flown?Vainly do I seek you; Learning, too, is gone!'Hither are we gathered,' they reply as one,'Here we rest with Judah.'"

This, however, does not convey the smallest portion of what this ethereal and yet powerful character was. Jehuda Halevi was the spiritualized image of the race of Israel, conscious of itself, seeking to display itself, in its past and in its future, in an intellectual and artistic form.

In Spain Jewish culture had arrived at its zenith, and had reached its highest perfection in the greatest of the neo-Hebraic poets. In France the beginnings of culture now became manifest. The reigns of the two kings of the house of Capet, Louis VI and VII (1108–1180), were as favorable to the Jews as that of Louis the Pious. The congregations in the north of France lived in the comfort and prosperity that arouses envy, their granaries were filled with corn, their cellars with wine, their warehouses with merchandise, and their coffers with gold and silver. They owned houses and fields and vineyards, cultivated either by themselves or by Christian servants. It is said that half of Paris, which at that time was not yet a city of very great importance, belonged to Jews. The Jewish congregations were recognized as independent corporations, and had their own mayor, with the title of Provost (præpositus), who was invested with authority to guard the interests of his people, and to arrest Christian debtors and compel them to pay their Jewish creditors. The Jewish provost was chosen by the community, and his election was ratified by the king or the baron to whom the town was tributary; Jews frequented the court, and held office. Jacob Tam, the greatest rabbinical authority of this time, was highly respected by the king. Jewish theologians freely disputed with the clergy upon religious questions, and openly expressed their honest opinions about the Trinity, the Virgin Mary, the worship of saints, about auricular confession and the miracle-working powers of relics.

Under these favorable circumstances of unrestricted tolerance, the Jewish sages of the north of France were able to follow in the path which Rashi had marked out for them. To understand and explain the Talmud in its entirety became a passion with the French Jews. Death had snatched away the commentator on the Talmud in the midst of his labors at Troyes; his pupils exerted themselves to complete whatever had been left unfinished by him. He had bequeathed to his school a spirit of indefatigable research and close inquiry, of acute dialectics, and the art of fine discrimination, and they richly increased their inheritance. The correct and precise understanding of the Talmud was so sacred a matter to the pupils of Rashi, that they did not hesitate to subject the interpretations of their master to a severe critical revision. But, on the other hand, their veneration for him was so great that they did not venture to offer their opinions independently, but attached them to the commentaries of Rashi as "Supplements" (Tossafoth). From this circumstance they were called the Tossafists. They supplied the omissions of Rashi, and also emended and expanded the explanations given by him. The chief characteristic of the method of the Tossafists is their independence of the authorities, they subjected all opinions to the scrutiny of their own reason. Their profound scholarship and great erudition comprehended the immense Talmudic literature and its maze of learned discussions and arguments with clearness and precision. Their penetrating intellect displayed remarkable ingenuity in resolving every argument and every idea into its original elements, distinguishing thoughts that appeared to be similar, and reconciling such as seemed to conflict. It is almost impossible to convey to the mind of the uninitiated any satisfactory notion of the critical acumen of the Tossafists. They solved the most difficult logical problems with the greatest ease, as if they were the simple examples set to children. The unyielding material of the Talmud became quite malleable under their hands, and they fashioned surprising Halachic (legal) shapes and substances. For the circumstances of modern times they found numerous analogies on record, which a superficial examination would never have discovered.

The circle of the earliest Tossafists was composed chiefly of the relatives of Rashi, viz.: his two sons-in-law, Meïr ben Samuel of Rameru, a small town near Troyes, and Jehuda ben Nathan (Riban); later, his three grandsons, Isaac, Samuel and Jacob Tam, the sons of Meïr; and finally a German, Isaac ben Asher Halevi (Riba) of Speyer, also connected with the family of Rashi.

The school of the Tossafists divided the study of the Talmud into two branches: theoretical discussion leading to a thorough comprehension of the text of the Talmud (Chiddushim), and practical application of the results of such study in the civil laws, in the laws of marriage, and in the religious ritual (Pesakim, Responsa). This ingenious method revealed new legal ordinances.

The study of the Talmud fully occupied the intellectual powers of the Jews of the north of France and the Rhine, and prevented the cultivation of other studies. Poetry did not thrive in a region where logic wielded the scepter, and where the imagination was brought into play only in order to invent new complications and hypothetical cases. The interpretation of Scripture was also treated in a Talmudical manner. Most of the Tossafists were Bible exegetes, but they did not pay much attention to the exact meaning of the text, studying it by means of Agadic interpretations. Tossafoth were written to elucidate the Pentateuch as well as the Talmud. Only two men can be recorded as famous exceptions, who returned from exegesis according to the Agadic method (Derush) to the strict and rational elucidation of the text (Peshat); these are Joseph Kara and Samuel ben Meïr (about 1100-1160). Both of these have the greater importance, since they were in opposition to their fathers, who adhered to the Midrashic system of interpretation. Joseph Kara was the son of Simon Kara, a compiler of Agadic pieces, the author of the Yalkut; and Samuel ben Meïr had been taught by his grandfather Rashi to pay great respect to the Agada. Both of them forsook the old way, and sought an explanation of the text in strict accordance with rules of grammar. Samuel, who completed Rashi's commentary to Job and to some of the treatises of the Talmud, had so thoroughly convinced his grandfather of the correctness of rational exegesis, that he had declared that if strength were granted him, he would alter his commentary to the Pentateuch in accordance with other exegetical principles. Samuel, called Rashbam, wrote, in this temperate style, a commentary to the Pentateuch and the Five Megilloth; and Joseph Kara wrote commentaries on the books of the Prophets and the Hagiographa. Samuel ben Meïr, in his interpretation of Holy Writ, sought for the sense and the connection of the text, and did not shrink from explanations at variance with the Talmud, or in harmony with the views of the Karaites.

CHAPTER XII.

PERSECUTIONS DURING THE SECOND CRUSADE AND UNDER THE ALMOHADES

Condition of the Jews in France – The Second Crusade – Peter the Venerable and the Monk Rudolph – Bernard of Clairvaux and the Emperor Conrad – Protectors of the Jews – Persecutions under the Almohades – Abdulmumen and his Edict – The Prince Jehuda Ibn-Ezra – The Karaites in Spain – Jehuda Hadassi – The historian Abraham Ibn-Daud and his Philosophy – Abraham Ibn-Ezra – Rabbenu Tam.

1143–117 °C. E

When the greatest neo-Hebraic poet complained, "Have we a home in the West or in the East?" his sensitive heart was probably filled with foreboding concerning the insecurity of his co-religionists. Only too soon was the Jewish race to realize the awful truth that it possessed no home on earth, and that it was only tolerated in the lands of its exile. As long as the intolerant religious principles of the Church and of the Mosque remained inoperative, either by reason of the indifference, or the inertia, or the selfish pursuits of their adherents, the Jews lived in comparative happiness; but when religious hatred was aroused, torture and martyrdom fell upon Israel, and again he was compelled to grasp the wanderer's staff, and with bleeding heart depart from his dearly beloved home. Although the Jews in general, and especially their leaders, the rabbis and sages, were, as a rule, superior to the Christian and Mahometan peoples in devotion to God, in morality, in refinement and knowledge, yet those to whom the earth belonged imagined themselves on a higher level, and with lordly haughtiness looked down upon the Jews as common slaves. In Christian countries they were declared outlaws, because they would not believe in the Son of God and many other things; and in a Mahometan realm they were persecuted because they would not acknowledge Mahomet as the prophet. In one land they were expected to do violence to their reason and to accept fables as sober truths, and in another they were asked to renounce their faith and take in its stead dry formulæ, tinged with philosophy. Both held out the cheerless choice between death and the renunciation of their ancient religion. The French and the Germans rivaled the savage Moors in the energy with which they strove to enfeeble still more the weakest of the peoples. On the banks of the Seine, the Rhine and the Danube, on the shores of Africa and in the south of Spain, there arose simultaneously, as though preconcerted, bloody persecutions against the Jews, in the name of religion, despite the fact that all that was good and divine in the oppressors' creeds owed its origin to this people. Hitherto persecutions of the Jews had been few and far between; but from the year 1146 they became more frequent, more severe, and more persistent. It seemed as if the age in which the light of intelligence had begun to dawn upon mankind desired to exceed in inhumanity the epochs of darkest barbarism. This period of suffering imprinted on the features of the Jewish race that air of suffering, that martyr's look, which even the present age of freedom has not effaced. "The meaning of the prophet," said Ibn-Ezra, "when he cries, 'He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth,' requires no commentary, for every Jew in exile illustrates it. When he is afflicted he does not open his mouth to protest that he is more righteous than his tormentor. He keeps his look directed only towards God, and neither prince nor noble assists him in his distress."

The persecutions that spread simultaneously over Europe and Africa had their sources in catastrophes that occurred in Asia and Africa. Whilst the Christian knights in the new kingdom of Jerusalem and in the neighboring princedoms were sinking into inactivity, the Turkish warrior, Nureddin, who had determined to drive the Christians from Asia, began his attacks upon them. The important city of Edessa fell into his hands, and the crusaders, now at their wits' end, were compelled to implore help from Europe. The second crusade was now preached in France and Germany, and bloodthirsty fanaticism was again aroused against the Jews.

King Louis VII of France, conscience-stricken, took the cross, and with him went the young and frivolous Queen Eleanora, together with the dames of the court, who transformed the camp of the warriors of God into a court of gallantry. The Abbot Bernard of Clairvaux, a truly pious man, of apostolic simplicity of heart, and renowned for his powerful eloquence, energetically exhorted Christians to take part in this crusade, and owing to his influence the troops of pilgrims marching against the infidels increased day by day. This time it was Pope Eugenius III who turned the attention of the crusaders towards the Jews. He issued a bull announcing that all those who joined in the holy war were absolved from the payment of interest on debts owing to Jews. This was an inducement for the numerous debtors of the Jews to participate in the crusade, and was in reality only a veiled permission to repudiate their indebtedness to the Jews. The Abbot Bernard, who at other times disdained to employ unholy means to compass a holy end, was obliged, at the command of the Pope, to preach this repudiation of debts. Another abbot, Peter the Venerable, of Clugny, desired to push the matter still further. He roused King Louis and the army of the crusaders directly against the Jews. He heaped charges upon them, exaggerating their offenses so as to incite the prejudiced monarch to persecute or at least plunder them. In a letter to Louis VII he repeated the sophistries and falsehoods which the marauding mobs of the first crusade had invented in order to palliate their plundering of the Jews in the name of religion.