Chapter 16

[81] In a manuscript preserved in the Lambeth Palace Library, of the time of Edward IV, the height of Moses is said to have been "xiij. fote and viij. ynches and half"; and the reader may possibly find some amusement in the "longitude of men folowyng," from the same veracious work: "Cryste, vj. fote and iij. ynches. Our Lady, vj. fote and viij. ynches. Crystoferus, xvij. fote and viij. ynches. King Alysaunder, iiij. fote and v. ynches. Colbronde, xvij. fote and ij. ynches and half. Syr Ey., x. fote iij. ynches and half. Seynt Thomas of Caunterbery, vij. fote, save a ynche. Long Mores, a man of Yrelonde borne, and servaunt to Kyng Edward the iiijth., vj. fote and x. ynches and half."--_Reliquæ Antiquæ_, vol i, p. 200.

IV

MORAL AND ENTERTAINING TALES.

If most of the rabbinical legends cited in the preceding sections have served simply to amuse the general reader--though to those of a philosophical turn they must have been suggestive of the depths of imbecility to which the human mind may descend--the stories, apologues, and parables contained in the Talmud, of which specimens are now to be presented, are calculated to furnish wholesome moral instruction as well as entertainment to readers of all ranks and ages. In the art of conveying impressive moral lessons, by means of ingenious fictions, the Hebrew sages have never been excelled, and perhaps they are rivalled only by the ancient philosophers of India. The significant circumstance has already been noticed (in the introductory section) that several of the most striking tales in European mediæval collections--particularly the _Disciplina Clericalis_ of Petrus Alfonsus and the famous _Gesta Romanorum_--are traceable to Talmudic sources. Little did the priest-ridden, ignorant, marvel-loving laity of European countries imagine that the moral fictions which their spiritual directors recited every Sunday for their edification were derived from the wise men of the despised Hebrew race! But, indeed, there is reason to believe that few mere casual readers even at the present day have any notion of the extent to which the popular fictions of Europe are indebted to the old Jewish Rabbis.

Like the sages of India, the Hebrew Fathers in their teachings strongly inculcate the duty of active benevolence--the liberal giving of alms to the poor and needy; and, indeed, the wealthy Jews are distinguished at the present day by their open-handed liberality in support of the public charitable institutions of the several countries of which they are subjects. "What you increase bestow on good works," says the Hindú sage. "Charity is to money what salt is to meat," says the Hebrew philosopher: if the wealthy are not charitable their riches will perish. In illustration of this maxim is the story of

_Rabbi Jochonan and the Poor Woman._

One day Rabbi Jochonan was riding outside the city of Jerusalem, followed by his disciples, when he observed a poor woman laboriously gathering the grain that dropped from the mouths of the horses of the Arabs as they were feeding. Looking up and recognising Jochonan, she cried: "O Rabbi, assist me!" "Who art thou?" demanded Jochonan. "I am the daughter of Nakdimon, the son of Guryon." "Why, what has become of thy father's money--the dowry thou receivedst on thy wedding day?" "Ah, Rabbi, is there not a saying in Jerusalem, 'the salt was wanting to the money?'" "But thy husband's money?" "That followed the other: I have lost them both." The good Rabbi wept for the poor woman and helped her. Then said he to his disciples, as they continued on their way: "I remember that when I signed that woman's marriage contract her father gave her as a dowry one million of gold dínars, and her husband was a man of considerable wealth besides."

* * * * *

The ill-fated riches of Nakdimon are referred to in another tale, as a lesson to those who are not charitable according to their means:

_A Safe Investment._

Rabbi Taraphon, though a very wealthy man, was exceedingly avaricious, and seldom gave help to the poor. Once, however, he involuntarily bestowed a considerable sum in relieving the distressed. Rabbi Akiba came to him one day, and told him that he knew of certain real estate, which would be a very profitable investment. Rabbi Taraphon handed him 4000 dínars in gold to be so invested, and Rabbi Akiba forthwith distributed the whole among the poor. By-and-by, Rabbi Taraphon, happening to meet his friend, desired to know where the real estate was in which his money had been invested. Rabbi Akiba took him to the college, where he caused one of the boys to read aloud the 112th Psalm, and on his reaching the 9th verse, "He distributeth, he giveth to the needy, his righteousness endureth for ever"--"There," said he, "thou seest where thy money is invested." "And why hast thou done this?" demanded Rabbi Taraphon. "Hast thou forgotten," answered his friend, "how Nakdimon, the son of Guryon, was punished because he gave not according to his means?" "But why didst thou not tell me of thy purpose? I could myself have bestowed my money on the poor." "Nay," rejoined Rabbi Akiba, "it is a greater virtue to cause another to give than to give one's self."

* * * * *

Resignation to the divine will under sore family bereavements has, perhaps, never been more beautifully illustrated than by the incident related of the Rabbi Meir. This little tale, as follows, is one of three Talmudic narratives which the poet Coleridge has translated:[82]

_The Jewels._

The celebrated teacher Rabbi Meir sat during the whole of the Sabbath day in the public school instructing the people. During his absence from the house his two sons died, both of them of uncommon beauty, and enlightened in the law. His wife bore them to her bed-chamber, laid them upon the marriage-bed, and spread a white covering over their bodies. In the evening the Rabbi Meir came home. "Where are my two sons," he asked, "that I may give them my blessing? I repeatedly looked round the school, and I did not see them there." She reached him a goblet. He praised the Lord at the going out of the Sabbath, drank, and again asked: "Where are my sons, that they too may drink of the cup of blessing?" "They will not be afar off," she said, and placed food before him that he might eat. He was in a gladsome and genial mood, and when he had said grace after the meal, she thus addressed him: "Rabbi, with thy permission, I would fain propose to thee one question." "Ask it then, my love," he replied. "A few days ago a person entrusted some jewels into my custody, and now he demands them of me; should I give them back again?" "This is a question," said the Rabbi, "which my wife should not have thought it necessary to ask. What! wouldst thou hesitate or be reluctant to restore to every one his own?" "No," she replied; "but yet I thought it best not to restore them without acquainting you therewith." She then led him to the chamber, and, stepping to the bed, took the white covering from the dead bodies. "Ah, my sons--my sons!" thus loudly lamented the father. "My sons! the light of my eyes, and the light of my understanding! I was your father, but ye were my teachers in the law." The mother turned away and wept bitterly. At length she took her husband by the hand, and said: "Rabbi, didst thou not teach me that we must not be reluctant to restore that which was entrusted to our keeping? See--'the Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!'"[83] "Blessed be the name of the Lord!" echoed Rabbi Meir. "And blessed be his name for thy sake too, for well is it written: 'Whoso hath found a virtuous wife, hath a greater prize than rubies; she openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness.'"[84]

[82] _The Friend_, ed. 1850, vol. ii, p. 247.

[83] Book of Job, i, 21.

[84] Prov. xxxi, 10, 26.

* * * * *

The originals of not a few of the early Italian tales are found in the Talmud--the author of the _Cento Novelle Antiche_, Boccaccio, Sacchetti, and other novelists having derived the groundwork of many of their fictions from the _Gesta Romanorum_ and the _Disciplina Clericalis_ of Peter Alfonsus, which are largely composed of tales drawn from Eastern sources. The 123rd novel of Sacchetti, in which a young man carves a capon in a whimsical fashion, finds its original in the following Talmudic story:

_The Capon-Carver._

It happened that a citizen of Jerusalem, while on a distant provincial journey on business, was suddenly taken ill, and, feeling himself to be at the point of death, he sent for the master of the house, and desired him to take charge of his property until his son should arrive to claim it; but, in order to make sure that the claimant was really the son, he was not to deliver up the property until the applicant had proved his wisdom by performing three ingenious actions. Shortly after having given his friend these injunctions the merchant died, and the melancholy intelligence was duly transmitted to his son, who in the course of a few weeks left Jerusalem to claim his property. On reaching the town where his father's friend resided, he began to inquire of the people where his house was situated, and, finding no one who could, or would, give him this necessary information, the youth was in sore perplexity how to proceed in his quest, when he observed a man carrying a heavy load of firewood. "How much for that wood?" he cried. The man readily named his price. "Thou shalt have it," said the stranger. "Carry it to the house of ---- [naming his father's friend], and I will follow thee." Well satisfied to have found a purchaser on his own terms, the man at once proceeded as he was desired, and on arriving at the house he threw down his load before the door. "What is all this?" demanded the master. "I have not ordered any wood." "Perhaps not," said the man; "but the person behind me has bought it, and desired me to bring it hither." The stranger had now come up, and, saluting the master of the house, told him who he was, and explained that, since he could not ascertain where his house was situated by inquiries of people in the streets, he had adopted this expedient, which had succeeded. The master praised the young man's ingenuity, and led him into the house.

When the several members of the family, together with the stranger, were assembled round the dinner-table, the master of the house, in order to test the stranger's ingenuity, desired his guest to carve a dish containing five chickens, and to distribute a portion to each of the persons who were present--namely, the master and mistress, their two daughters and two sons, and himself. The young stranger acquitted himself of the duty in this manner: One of the chickens he divided between the master and the mistress; another between the two daughters; the third between the two sons; and the remaining two he took for his own share. "This visitor of mine," thought the master, "is a curious carver; but I will try him once more at supper."

Various amusements made the afternoon pass very agreeably to the stranger, until supper-time, when a fine capon was placed upon the table, which the master desired his guest to carve for the company. The young man took the capon, and began to carve and distribute it thus: To the master of the house he gave the head; to the mistress, the inward part; to the two daughters, each a wing; to the two sons, each a leg; and the remainder he took for himself. After supper the master of the house thus addressed his visitor: "Friend, I thought thy carving at dinner somewhat peculiar, but thy distribution of the capon this evening seems to me extremely whimsical. Give me leave to ask, do the citizens of Jerusalem usually carve their capons in this fashion?"

"Master," said the youth, "I will gladly explain my system of carving, which does appear to you so strange. At dinner I was requested to divide five chickens among seven persons. This I could not do otherwise than arithmetically; therefore, I adopted the perfect number _three_ as my guide--thou, thy wife, and one chicken made _three_; thy two daughters and one chicken made _three_; thy two sons and one chicken made _three_; and I had to take the remaining chickens for my own share, as two chickens and myself made _three_." "Very ingenious, I must confess," said the master. "But how dost thou explain thy carving of the capon?" "That, master, I performed according to what appeared to me the fitness of things. I gave the head of the capon to thee, because thou art the head of this house; I gave the inward part to the mistress, as typical of her fruitfulness; thy daughters are both of marriageable years, and, as it is natural to wish them well settled in life, I gave each of them a wing, to indicate that they should soon fly abroad; thy two sons are the pillars of thy house, and to them I gave the legs, which are the supporters of the animal; while to myself I took that part of the capon which most resembles a boat, in which I came hither, and in which I intend to return." From these proofs of his ingenuity the master was now fully convinced that the stranger was the true son of his late friend the merchant, and next morning he delivered to him his father's property.[85]

[85] The droll incident of dividing the capon, besides being found in Sacchetti, forms part of a popular story current in Sicily, and is thus related in Professor Crane's _Italian Popular Tales_, p. 311 ff., taken from Prof. Comparetti's _Fiabe, Novelle, e Racconti_ (Palermo, 1875), No. 43, "La Ragazza astuta": Once upon a time there was a huntsman who had a wife and two children, a son and a daughter; and all lived together in a wood where no one ever came, and so they knew nothing about the world. The father alone sometimes went to the city, and brought back the news. The king's son once went hunting, and lost himself in that wood, and while he was seeking his way it became night. He was weary and hungry. Imagine how he felt. But all at once he saw a light shining in the distance. He followed it and reached the huntsman's house, and asked for lodging and something to eat. The huntsman recognised him at once and said: "Highness, we have already supped on our best; but if we can find anything for you, you must be satisfied with it. What can we do? We are so far from the towns that we cannot procure what we need every day." Meanwhile he had a capon cooked for him. The prince did not wish to eat it alone, so he called all the huntsman's family, and gave the head of the capon to the father, the back to the mother, the legs to the son, and the wings to the daughter, and ate the rest himself. In the house there were only two beds, in the same room. In one the husband and wife slept, in the other the brother and sister. The old people went and slept in the stable, giving up their bed to the prince. When the girl saw that the prince was asleep, she said to her brother: "I will wager that you do not know why the prince divided the capon among us in the manner he did." "Do you know? Tell me why." "He gave the head to our father, because he is the head of the family; the back to our mother, because she has on her shoulders all the affairs of the house; the legs to you, because you must be quick in performing the errands which are given you; and the wings to me, to fly away and catch a husband." The prince pretended to be asleep, but he was awake and heard these words, and perceived that the girl had much judgment, and as she was also pretty, he fell in love with her [and ultimately married this clever girl].

V

MORAL TALES, FABLES, AND PARABLES.

Reverence for parents, which is still a marked characteristic of Eastern races, has ever been strongly inculcated by the Jewish Fathers; and the noble conduct of Damah, the son of Nethuna, towards both his father and mother, is adduced in the Talmud as an example for all times and every condition of life:

_A Dutiful Son._

The mother of Damah was unfortunately insane, and would frequently not only abuse him but strike him in the presence of his companions; yet would not this dutiful son suffer an ill word to escape his lips, and all he used to say on such occasions was: "Enough, dear mother, enough." One of the precious stones attached to the high priest's sacerdotal garments was once, by some means or other, lost. Informed that the son of Nethuna had one like it, the priests went to him and offered him a very large price for it. He consented to take the sum offered, and went into an adjoining room to fetch the jewel. On entering he found his father asleep, his foot resting on the chest wherein the gem was deposited. Without disturbing his father, he went back to the priests and told them that he must for the present forego the large profit he could make, as his father was asleep. The case being urgent, and the priests thinking that he only said so to obtain a larger price, offered him more money. "No," said he; "I would not even for a moment disturb my father's rest for all the treasures in the world." The priests waited till the father awoke, when Damah brought them the jewel. They gave him the sum they had offered him the second time, but the good man refused to take it. "I will not," said he, "barter for gold the satisfaction of having done my duty. Give me what you offered at first, and I shall be satisfied." This they did, and left him with a blessing.

_An Ingenious Will._

One of the best rabbinical stories of common life is of a wise man who, residing at some distance from Jerusalem, had sent his son to the Holy City in order to complete his education, and, dying during his son's absence, bequeathed the whole of his estate to one of his own slaves, on the condition that he should allow his son to select any one article which pleased him for an inheritance. Surprised, and naturally angry, at such gross injustice on the part of his father in preferring a slave for his heir in place of himself, the young man sought counsel of his teacher, who, after considering the terms of the will, thus explained its meaning and effect: "By this action thy father has simply secured thy inheritance to thee: to prevent his slaves from plundering the estate before thou couldst formally claim it, he left it to one of them, who, believing himself to be the owner, would take care of the property. Now, what a slave possesses belongs to his master. Choose, therefore, the slave for thy portion, and then possess all that was thy father's." The young man followed his teacher's advice, took possession of the slave, and thus of his father's wealth, and then gave the slave his freedom, together with a considerable sum of money.[86]

[86] This story seems to be the original of a French popular tale, in which a gentleman secures his estate for his son by a similar device. The gentleman, dying at Paris while his son was on his travels, bequeathed all his wealth to a convent, on condition that they should give his son "whatever they chose." On the son's return he received from the holy fathers a very trifling portion of the paternal estate. He complained to his friends of this injustice, but they all agreed that there was no help for it, according to the terms of his father's will. In his distress he laid his case before an eminent lawyer, who told him that his father had adopted this plan of leaving his estate in the hands of the churchmen in order to prevent its misappropriation during his absence. "For," said the man of law, "your father, by will, has left you the share of his estate which the convent should choose (_le partie qui leur plairoit_), and it is plain that what they chose was that which they kept for themselves. All you have to do, therefore, is to enter an action at law against the convent for recovery of that portion of your father's property which they have retained, and, take my word for it, you will be successful." The young man accordingly sued the churchmen and gained his cause.

* * * * *

And now we proceed to cite one or two of the rabbinical fables, in the proper signification of the term--namely, moral narratives in which beasts or birds are the characters. Although it is generally allowed that Fable was the earliest form adopted for conveying moral truths, yet it is by no means agreed among the learned in what country of remote antiquity it originated. Dr. Landsberger, in his erudite introduction to _Die Fabeln des Sophos_ (1859), contends that the Jews were the first to employ fables for purposes of moral instruction, and that the oldest fable extant is Jotham's apologue of the trees desiring a king (Book of Judges, ix. 8-15).[87] According to Dr. Landsberger, the sages of India were indebted to the Hebrews for the idea of teaching by means of fables, probably during the reign of Solomon, who is believed to have had commerce with the western shores of India.[88] We are told by Josephus that Solomon "composed of parables and similitudes three thousand; for he spoke a parable upon every sort of tree, from the hyssop to the cedar; and, in like manner, also about beasts, about all sorts of living creatures, whether upon earth, or in the seas, or in the air; for he was not unacquainted with any of their natures, nor omitted inquiring about them, but described them all like a philosopher, and demonstrated his exquisite knowledge of their several properties." These fables of Solomon, if they were ever committed to writing, had perished long before the time of the great Jewish historian; but there seems no reason to doubt the fact that the wise king of Israel composed many works besides those ascribed to him in the Old Testament. The general opinion among European orientalists is that Fable had its origin in India; and the Hindús themselves claim the honour of inventing our present system of numerals (which came into Europe through the Arabians, who derived it from the Hindús), the game of chess, and the Fables of Vishnusarman (the _Panchatantra_ and its abridgment, the _Hitopadesa_).

[87] But the Book of Judges was probably edited after the time of Hesiod, whose fable of the Hawk and the Nightingale (_Works and Days_, B. i, v. 260) must be considered as the oldest extant fable.

[88] This theory, though perhaps somewhat ingenious, is generally considered as utterly untenable.

It is said that Rabbi Meir knew upwards of three hundred fables relating to the fox alone; but of these only three fragments have been preserved, and this is one of them, according to Mr. Polano's translation:

_The Fox and the Bear._