2015년 5월 7일 목요일

Studies in Judaism 10

Studies in Judaism 10


There must have been some fascinating charm in Nachman's personality,
which made him irresistible to all who came into contact with him.
Rapoport has described his first interview with Krochmal. "It is more than
thirty years since I first made his acquaintance, and beheld the glory of
his presence. Though he was in weak health, still his soul was strong; and
as soon as I conversed with him there came over me a spirit of judgment
and knowledge. I felt almost transformed into another man." Elsewhere the
same writer says: "Oh, how sweet to me were these walks with
Krochmal--sweeter than all the pleasures of this world. I could never have
enough of his wisdom; with his every word he conveyed a new lesson."
 
After a lengthy stay at Lemberg, Krochmal partially, though not entirely,
recovered from his severe illness; he remained weak and pale for the rest
of his days. His antagonists, the Chassidim, believed him to be possessed
by a demon who could find no better dwelling-place than in the person of
this arch-heretic. Had it been in their power they would probably have
dragged him to some exorcist for the purpose of driving out his German,
French, Latin, and other symptoms of demoniacal heresy. Happily the
orthodox were powerless to do this, so Krochmal was left unmolested, and
was allowed to resume his walks and studies. It may be here remarked that
Krochmal in general avoided giving the Chassidim any cause for reasonable
complaint. Rapoport asserts that his master was "deeply religious and a
strict observer of the law. He was zealously anxious to perform every
ordinance, Biblical or Rabbinical." The only liberty that Krochmal claimed
for himself and his disciples was the right to study what they thought
best and in the way they thought best. When this liberty was attacked, he
showed a firmness and resolution which would hardly have been expected
from this quiet and gentle man. To one of his pupils, who made concessions
to the Chassidim and their Zaddikim worship, Krochmal wrote: "Be firm in
this matter unless you wish to earn the contempt of every honest man. One
who is afraid of these people, and debases himself before them bears a
mean soul that was born to slavery. The man that wishes to rise above the
mob, with its confused notions and corrupt morality, must be courageous as
a lion in conquering the obstacles that beset his path. Consideration of
what people will say, what bigots will whisper, what crafty enemies will
scheme--questions such as these can have but one effect,--to darken the
intellect and confuse the faculty of judgment."
 
So Krochmal continued his studies without interruption till 1814, when the
death of his wife's mother brought his period of ease and comfort to an
end. His father-in-law seems to have died some time before, and Krochmal
was forced to seek his own living. He became a merchant, but it is to be
regretted that he did not prove as successful a man of business as he was
a man of letters. He found it a hard struggle to earn a living. But the
severest trial which he had to undergo was the death of his wife in 1826.
In a letter, dating from about this time, to a friend who had asked him
for assistance in his philosophical inquiries, Krochmal wrote--"How can I
help you now? I am already an old man; my head is gray, and my health is
broken. In the last three years I have met with many misfortunes. My
beloved wife died after a long illness. My daughter will soon leave me to
get married, my elder son will depart to seek his livelihood, and I shall
be left alone with only a child of ten years, the son of my old age. I
will lift up mine eyes unto the hills: From whence shall my help come?"
 
Nachman was evidently in very low spirits at this time, but he was in too
true a sense a philosopher to despair. He turned for comfort to his
studies, and at this dark epoch of his life he first became acquainted
with the Philosophy of Hegel, whose system he was wont to call the
"Philosophy of Philosophies."
 
For the next ten years the works of Hegel and inquiries into Jewish
history appear to have absorbed all the leisure that his mercantile
occupation left him. We shall presently see what the result of these
studies was. No fresh subjects were undertaken by Krochmal in the last
years of his life; he had already acquired a fund of knowledge vast enough
to engage all his thoughts. There are, however, some remaining points in
his private circumstances which it may not be uninteresting to mention.
 
Krochmal, as has been already related, was not prosperous in his business.
Things went from bad to worse, and he was compelled in 1836 to seek a
situation. "There ought to be literary men poor," some writer has
maintained, "to show whether they are genuine or not." This test Krochmal
successfully passed through. Even as a young man Nachman's strength of
character was admired by his contemporaries not less than his rare
learning. In his subsequent distress, he gave evidence of the truth of
this judgment. Despite his poverty, his friends could not prevail upon him
to accept the post of Rabbi in any Jewish community. "I am unwilling," he
wrote to a friend, "to be the cause of dissensions in any Jewish
congregation. I should prefer to die of hunger rather than become a Rabbi
under present circumstances." He expressed his views on this subject even
more decidedly on a later occasion when the Berlin congregation offered
him the post of Chief Rabbi in that town. In a letter, conveying his
refusal of this honourable office, he says: "I never thought of becoming
the Conscience-counsellor (_Gewissensrath_) of men. My line of studies was
not directed to that end, nor would it accord with my disposition and
sentiments. The only post that I should care to accept would be that of
teacher in the Jewish Theological Seminary, which, as I was informed, you
were thinking of establishing in Berlin." The plan to found such an
institution was not realised till forty years later, and in the interval
Nachman had to look for his living in other regions than Jewish theology.
Being in poor circumstances, and as his children and friends had left him,
he felt very lonely at Zolkiew. "Nobody cares for me here," he writes,
"and I am equally indifferent." His one desire was to obtain a situation
at Brody, possibly as book-keeper with a salary of some thirty pounds a
year, on condition that he would be expected to devote only half the day
to his business duties, thus securing for himself leisure for
philosophical studies.
 
His terms were accepted, and he obtained the humble post he sought. He
remained in Brody for the next two years, 1836-8, but at the end of 1838
he fell so dangerously ill that he could no longer resist the pressing
request of his daughter to live with her at Tarnopol. She had urged him to
take this step even previous to his removal to Brody, but he had declined
on the plea that he preferred to live by the labour of his hands. Now,
however, he yielded to her wish, and betook himself to Tarnopol, where for
two years longer he lived affectionately tended by his children and
respected by all who knew him. In May 1840, Krochmal's illness began to
develop fatal symptoms, and he died in the arms of his daughter on the
31st of July (the first of Ab), at the age of fifty-five. As Zunz happily
remarked: "This great man was born on the 7th of Adar, the birthday of
Moses (according to Jewish tradition), and died on the first of Ab, the
anniversary of the death of Aaron, the High Priest."
 
I have tried in the foregoing remarks to give a short sketch of our
Rabbi's life according to the accounts of Zunz, Rapoport, and Letteris.
There is one other point to which I must allude, as it involves a
consideration on which Letteris seems to lay much stress. This biographer
appears to think that Krochmal was in his youth greatly influenced by the
society in which he moved, consisting as it did of many learned and
enlightened men. There is, too, the oft-quoted saying of Goethe:--
 
 
Wer den Dichter will verstehen
Muss in Dichters Lande gehen.
 
 
And I am probably expected to give some account of the state of society in
which Nachman grew up. I regret that I must ask to be excused from doing
so. I cannot consent to take the reader to Krochmal's land. And if I might
venture to give him my humble advice, I should only say, "By all means
stop at home." Goethe may be right about the poet, but his remark does not
apply to the case of the scholar. It may be true, as some think, that
every great man is the product of his time, but it certainly does not
follow that he is the product of his country. Nor could I name any other
country of which Krochmal was the product. Many a city no doubt boasted
itself a town full of "_Chakhamim_ and _Sopherim_"(24) as the Hebrew
phrase is, or, as we would express it, "a seat of learning," full of
scholars of the ancient and modern schools. But neither these ancient
scholars nor the modern were of a kind to produce a real scholar and an
enlightened thinker like Krochmal. There were many men who knew by heart
the whole of the Halachic works of Maimonides, the Mishnah, and even the
whole of the Babylonian Talmud. This is very imposing. But if you look a
little closer, you will find that with a few exceptions--such as the school
of R. Elijah Wilna--these men, generally speaking, hardly deserve the name
of scholars at all. They were rather a sort of studying engines. The
steam-engine passes over a continent, here through romantic scenery, there
in the midst of arid deserts, by stream and mountain and valley, always
with the same monotonous hum and shriek. So these scholars went through
the Talmud with never changing feelings. They did not rejoice at the
description which is given in tractate _Biccurim_(25) of the procession
formed when the first-fruits were brought into the Holy Temple. They were
not much saddened when reading in tractate _Taanith_(26) of the unhappy
days so recurrent in Jewish history. They were not delighted by the wisdom
of _Seder Nezikin_,(27) which deals with civil law; nor were they vexed of
_Seder Taharoth_,(28) which treats of the laws of cleanliness and
uncleanliness, that by their exaggeration gave cause to much dissension in
the time of the Temple. The pre-Talmudic literature, such as the _Siphra_,
_Siphré_, and _Mechilta_(29)--the only existing means of obtaining an
insight into the Talmud--were altogether neglected. All that these readers
cared for was to push on to the end, and the prayer recited at the close
was of more importance to them than the treatise they had perused.
 
Not less melancholy was the spectacle presented by the so-called men of
"Enlightenment" (_Aufklärung_). They belonged chiefly to the rationalistic
school of Mendelssohn, but they equalled their master neither in knowledge
nor in moral character. It was an enlightenment without foundation in real
scholarship, and did not lead to an ideal life, though again I must add
that there were exceptions. These men were rather what Germans would term
_Schöngeister_, a set of dilettanti who cared to study as little as
possible, and to write as much as possible. They wrote bad grammars,
superficial commentaries on the Bible, and terribly dull poems. Of this
literature, with the exception of Erter's _Watchman_,(30) there is
scarcely a work that one would care to read twice. Most of them despised
Rabbinism, but without understanding its noblest forms as they are to be
traced in the Talmud and later Hebrew literature. They did not dislike
Judaism, but the only Judaism they affected was one "which does not oppose
itself to anything in particular"; or, as Heine would have described it,
"Eine reinliche Religion." In one respect these little men were great: in
mutual admiration, which reached such a pitch that such titles as "Great
Luminary," "World-famed Sage," were considered altogether too
insignificant and commonplace.
 
I will now pass to the writings of Krochmal. It must be premised that
Krochmal was not a voluminous author. All his writings, including a few
letters which were published in various Hebrew periodicals, would scarcely
occupy four hundred pages. Krochmal used to call himself "der ewige
Student" (the perpetual pupil). He did not read books, nor study
philosophical systems, with the object of writing books of his own on
them. He read and studied in order that he might become a better and a
wiser man. Besides, he did not think himself competent to judge on grave
subjects, nor did he consider his judgment, even if he formed one, worthy
of publication. He counselled his friends to be equally slow in publishing
their views to the world. "Be not," he wrote to a correspondent,--"be not
hasty in forming your opinions before you have studied the literature of
the subject with care and devotion. This is no easy matter, for no man can
obtain any real knowledge of the Torah and philosophy unless he is
prepared to give himself up in single-hearted devotion to his studies."
Severe though he was to his friends, he was still more severe to himself.
Though he had been collecting materials on subjects of Jewish history and
philosophy from his early youth, it was not until he had endured much
persuasion and pressure from his friends that he began to write down his
thoughts in a connected form. We thus possess only one work from the pen
of this author; but that work is the _Guide of the Perplexed of the
Time_,(31) a posthumous book published in 1851, eleven years after
Krochmal's death. His work had been much interrupted by illness during the
last years of his life, and as a necessary consequence many parts of his
treatise finally remained in an unfinished state. Krochmal commissioned
his children to hand over his papers to Zunz, who was to arrange and edit
them as best he might. Zunz, who in his reverence for Krochmal went so far
as to call him the man of God, gladly accepted the task, in which he was
aided by Steinschneider. Unfortunately, the work was published in Lemberg,
a place famous for spoiling books. Even the skill of these two great
masters did not suffice to save Krochmal's work from the fate to which all
the books printed in Lemberg seem inevitably doomed. Thus Krochmal's work
is printed on bad paper, and with faint ink; it is full of misprints and
the text is sometimes confused with the notes. A second edition appeared
in Lemberg in 1863; but, it is scarcely necessary to add, the reprint is even worse than the original issue.

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