Part 9

As regards the merits, the conception, and the style of the _Ha-Topheth-ve-Ha-Eden_ it may be said that it holds a unique position in Hebrew literature. In the introduction the author states that, having reached his sixtieth year, the sudden death of a younger friend caused him much anxiety about his own future, and he wished to know the fate that awaited him beyond the grave. To effect this he invoked the spirit of the Prophet Daniel. Thereupon the vision of a venerable old man appeared to him amidst thunder and lightning, and told him that he had come to show him his future place in the world of spirits. Immanuel asked to be first conducted to the regions of hell, and the old man led him there. On the way they passed through several places, which are reminiscent of Dante's _Inferno_, such as “a valley of corpses,” and “the gate of rejection,” in front of which “a flaming sword turned in every direction.” Myriads of souls were then being dragged through the gate by evil spirits to receive their punishment for sins committed by them in life, and on that gate the words were inscribed: “Here is an entrance only, but no outlet.” These words recall the passage in Dante (_Inferno_, iii. 9):—

Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

Passing through the gate into hell Immanuel sees tortures inflicted upon sinners, among whom are specially mentioned sceptics, gamblers, adulterers, misers, spendthrifts, and hypocrites. A certain class of Jewish preachers and precentors are also placed by Immanuel in the infernal regions, because they were in the habit, whilst preaching or reciting prayers, of lifting up their eyes to the women's gallery instead of heavenwards. At the mention of these hypocrites Immanuel, remembering his own failings, became pale with fear. But his conductor reassured him by saying that, though he could not pronounce him quite free from sin, yet he hoped that his virtues and his merits as an author of several excellent books would procure for him a seat in Paradise. Presently Immanuel and his leader leave Hell and betake themselves to Paradise. Looking round him, he sees the souls of all the Biblical and post-Biblical personages, who have in some way or other reflected credit on the Jewish race, either by their literary works or by their valour, honesty, and virtue. He is greeted with great joy by Moses, David, and Solomon, who eulogize the commentaries he had written on their literary productions. On leaving them, Immanuel notices another group at some distance, which was enveloped in a dazzling blaze of glory. And asking his leader who they were, he was told that they were _the pious of all nations_ (‪חסידי אומות העולם‬) who, during their life on earth, had been pre-eminent in charity, virtue, and learning, and were in consequence rewarded with seats of honour in Paradise. Close to them Immanuel noticed a magnificent throne in the course of erection, which he was given to understand was to be occupied by a friend, or rather a brother of his, as he is called, Daniel by name. It is still a matter of uncertainty to whom the author referred. But, on reading the context, it seems an inevitable conclusion that he must, as Geiger suggested, have alluded to Dante (Daniel). Near the throne of his friend, he was told, his own would be erected, so that they might both be united again after death and enjoy together heavenly bliss ever after.

The few special passages bearing on this friendship are so characteristic of Immanuel's liberal-mindedness that a reproduction of them here may not be out of place. They run somewhat as follows:—

“I do not know what has caused me to think of my friend Daniel, who, as an associate and friend, was to me of inestimable worth. It was he who showed me the path of truth and righteousness, who helped me greatly when fortune had forsaken me, and whose gigantic intellect is still spoken of on earth with unqualified admiration. On my asking my guide where my own throne would be placed after my death, he said: ‘You are certainly far inferior in greatness to your friend, whose name and fame will always be held in great honour by posterity. Yet, because you have both lived after the same pattern, and have both striven after truth, you shall be united again after death. Your throne shall be erected near to his, and, sitting hereafter close to each other, you will be like Joshua, who once was the attendant and disciple of Moses. Having been united in life by a mutual bond of friendship, no power shall separate your souls for ever.’ When I heard this my joy was unbounded, so happy was I in the thought that my lot would be like his, and that we should both have seats in Paradise. And having asked my conductor to let me see the throne destined for my friend, he took me by the hand, and led me to a tent where the hand of a master builder had erected a monument wonderful to view. Angels passed to and fro, women ornamented it with different costly textures, and numerous spirits made it ablaze with gold, rubies, and sapphires. And soon there stood before my wondering eye a throne formed of ebony, covered with purple and gold, and surmounted by a beautiful, glittering crown, which shone like the beams of the sun. This, said my guide, is Daniel's throne. You see, my son, the work that he has erected in the world is full of fame and renown, and equally great and glorious shall be the throne which he is to occupy in the world of spirits.”

The _Ha-Topheth-ve-Ha-Eden_ closes with the guide's request that he should write down for the benefit of posterity all that he saw in his wanderings through Hell and Paradise. Thereupon he vanishes in the tumult of a storm, which causes the author to awake from his dream.

From what has been said it will be seen that a marked mental affinity existed between Dante and Immanuel. To both history, scholasticism, and romanticism provided materials for their work. They were both influenced by the new national spirit that had inspired the members of “Young Italy” to struggle for the liberation of their countrymen—bodily and mentally—from the yoke of priestcraft and superstition. Finally, it will be admitted that the _Ha-Topheth-ve-Ha-Eden_ in style, dramatic effect, and graphic description has much in common with the _Divina Commedia_, although the condensed imitation is, of course, vastly inferior to the original. Yet there are several features in it which are peculiar to Immanuel. The most remarkable one is this: while Dante is narrow-minded enough to exclude from Paradise all and every one who does not profess Christianity, including even his leader, Virgil, Immanuel assigns places of honour there to the good and righteous of all nations and of all ages, provided they do not deny the existence of God and of a divine spirit in man.

Professor Th. Paur refers to this point in the essay that was mentioned above, and writes as follows:—

“If we closely examine the sentiments set forth in the little poetical volume (_Ha-Topheth-ve-Ha-Eden_), we must confess that the Jew Immanuel need not blush in the presence of the Christian Dante. It is true that he, like Dante, condemns those philosophical theories in which the personality of God, the creation of the world by his power, and the existence of a divine spirit in man are denied. But Immanuel shows more courage than Dante by effectively stigmatizing hypocrisy in all its various shapes and forms. He also possesses a greater spirit of tolerance than the latter had shown towards men professing creeds different from his own—a beautiful human _naïveté_ in matters of religion—which must be sought after with the lantern of Diogenes among the Christians of that period.”

In the introduction to the present essay mention was made of some sonnets composed by Immanuel in the Italian language, which show that he must have been well versed in the literature of his native country. Three of them were published for the first time some thirty years ago in a book entitled _Letteratura e filosofia, opuscoli per Pasquale Garofalo, Duca di Bonita_ (Naples, 1872). Perhaps it will not be out of place, in conclusion, to quote one of them here. Its English translation is somewhat as follows:—

“Love has never read the _Ave Maria_. It knows no law, no creed, neither does it hear nor see: it is boundless. Love is an unrestricted, omnipotent power, which insists on obtaining what it craves for. . . . Love does not suffer itself to be deprived of its pride and power by a _Paternoster_, or by any other charm; neither is it afraid of carrying into effect what it is fond of. _Amor_ alone knows what causes me grief; whatever I may offer him as an excuse, he meets me always with the same answer: It is my will and wish.”

Footnotes:

[87-1] It should be added that the eminent Dante scholar, Theodor Paur, was strongly inclined to doubt the authenticity of these poems, and that he was sceptical with regard to the whole question of the friendship between Immanuel and Dante. On the other hand, he readily admitted that Immanuel imitated the _Commedia_ in his _Ha-Topheth-ve-Ha-Eden_. (See _Jahrbuch der deutschen Dante-Gesellschaft_, III, 1871, pp. 423–462.)

[92-1] See Graetz, _Geschichte_, VII; and Güdemann, _Geschichte des Erziehungswesens und der Cultur abendländischen Juden während des Mittelalters_.

X

KALONYMOS BEN KALONYMOS

A THIRTEENTH-CENTURY SATIRIST

During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries there were in France, Spain, and Italy several Jewish savants whose literary labours did much to keep alive among Jews generally a taste for Hebrew literature as well as for philosophy and general science. Among them was Kalonymos ben Kalonymos, the subject of the present essay. He was born at Arles, a small town in Provence, in the year 1287, being the son of Kalonymos ben Meir, who bore the title of _Nasi_ (“the Prince”) and occupied a prominent position in the local community. The management of civil affairs was at that time in the hands of the resident archbishop, who confined all the Jews within a single street, although their predecessors had been permitted, since the middle of the fourth century, to live wherever they chose^[103-1]. In this ghetto Kalonymos first saw the light, and there he also spent a great part of his early youth, devoting much time to the study of Biblical and Rabbinical lore, as well as the acquisition of the classical and Oriental languages. He subsequently continued his studies at a school in the neighbouring town of Salon, under the tuition of Moses of Beaucaire and Astruc of Noves^[103-2].

As a young student he easily distinguished himself by the translation of several philosophical, mathematical, and medical books from Arabic or Latin into Hebrew. King Robert of Naples, who was then living in the south of France, hearing of his proficiency, commissioned him to go to Rome and translate some Hebrew books into Latin for him. While Kalonymos was in Rome he was a great favourite with all who knew him intimately, and, owing to his fine appearance, his prominent position, and his manifold accomplishments, he had no difficulty in obtaining entry into the best Roman society. Several of his contemporaries, and more especially Immanuel di Roma, a friend of Dante, speak of him in high terms, and bestow upon him, too, his father's title of _Nasi_.

Whilst in Rome Kalonymos was asked by the leaders of the Jewish community of Avignon, where he and his parents had lived for some time, to come thither in order to take a petition to the Pope, who was then residing there, praying that he would exert his influence in favour of the Jewish inhabitants of Avignon, for whose extermination the Christian population had planned a secret plot. It is not known what the result was. Graetz, in his History of the Jews (vol. VII, p. 305), states that Kalonymos died about the year 1337, but he does not mention the place of his death.

Kalonymos's chief work is, by general consent, his _Eben Bochan_ (“The Touchstone”), manuscripts of which are to be found in several libraries, including those of Munich, Leyden, Paris, and Florence. Printed as an _editio princeps_ at Naples in 1489, a second edition appeared at Venice in 1558; it was subsequently published at Sulzbach in 1705, and again at Fürth (without a date), and also at Lemberg in 1865. In 1878 Dr. Kayserling edited the late Dr. Meisel's posthumous German translation in verse, to which he added a brief sketch in German of Kalonymos's life and principal works.

Among the scholars who have discussed the _Eben Bochan_ may be mentioned Bartholocci, Wolf, Zunz, Geiger, Gross, Steinschneider, and Neubauer. It is pretty generally agreed that it was composed about the year 1324, that is to say, at a comparatively early period of the author's life. This theory is supported by the fact that it contains passages in which Kalonymos refers to his youth and unmarried state, and that its style is in many places marked by a singular freshness and vivacity which is seldom found in the writings of older men. The work is remarkable for its conciseness and epigrammatic force, and is further distinguished by the ingenuity with which Biblical and Talmudical phrases are woven into a kind of mosaic. It is somewhat similar in style to the _Bechînath Olam_, the author of which, Yedaya Bedaresi, was Kalonymos's contemporary. But while Bedaresi never failed to preserve the sternness and dignity peculiar to a moralizing philosopher, Kalonymos not infrequently relieved the seriousness of his narrative by flashes of humour and irony. He censures and ridicules the foibles of his Jewish contemporaries, but confesses at the same time, more in jest perhaps than in earnest, that he himself was not quite innocent of the same faults. One of the most humorous parts of the _Eben Bochan_ is that at which the author makes merry over his own misfortune in being born a male child of Jewish parents. For as such he has during all his lifetime to bear the heavy yoke of the six hundred and thirteen precepts (‪תרי״ג מצוות‬), together with various other Talmudical restrictions. The following free translation will give an idea of the author's style and mode of expression:—

Oh, hapless sire, distraught with cares, Whose wife to him male children bears, For all of them, or rich or poor, Have only suffering to endure; This is caused by the Jewish creed, Whose yoke is hard to bear, indeed. Its many laws and regulations, Which are unknown to other nations, Every Hebrew must observe, With watchful eye, and straining nerve; E'en though he shares in public functions, He still must follow their injunctions, Which, I would tell you, have been seen To be six hundred and thirteen.

But this is not the only feature, Which makes the Jew a hapless creature: For he must shun all jest and play, And brood o'er folios night and day, Mosaic and Rabbinic lore, And books, which he may think a bore. The Bible is not half enough: Glosses there are and other stuff, In which he erudite must be, Especially in theology, In all the Talmud may relate, In authors' quarrels and debate, In things particularly small, Of no significance at all.

And if in an enlightened age He'd fain become a cultured sage, He must cram full his suffering head With languages, alive and dead, With ethics, logic, and philosophy, Astronomy also and theosophy, And cabbalistic learning too, And history, old as well as new, And fill his overloaded brain With metaphysics' idle strain. Oh, truly wretched and forlorn Is every Jewish son that's born; Miserable is all his life, Full of toil, and pain, and strife. Thank Heaven, life is very brief; And death soon brings a swift relief!

Kalonymos then goes on to say that, had Providence decreed that he should be born a girl, his existence on earth would have been much more pleasant.

Happier, I would surely be, If from this manhood I were free, And entered on life's weary whirl, As a lucky-fated girl; Then my life would be as bright As is a star in summer night. And when full grown, I ne'er would shirk From doing all a woman's work; From early morn till late at night, When shine the moonbeams' silvery light, I'd spend the hours in peaceful knitting, Contented to be ever sitting Amidst a busy, smiling crowd Of girls that sing and laugh aloud. When nights were dark, we'd talk together Of dress, and bonnets, and the weather; And then we'd gossip too apace Of all that happens in the place, And end the evening's conversation With jests, and tales of sweet flirtation. As time went on, I would not tarry, But some fit husband I would marry, Who, I am sure, would ne'r decline To give me sweets and luscious wine, And would enhance his sweet embraces With gifts of gems and costly laces.

Oh, heavenly Father, who—'tis told— Didst work great miracles of old, How truly grateful I should be, If thou hadst but created me A girl, devoid of worldly care, And blessed with beauty ripe and rare. Alas! it is of no avail My hapless fortune to bewail; Heaven has willed that I, a man, Must even end as I began, Until grim death, a timely friend, Brings to my woes the wished-for end. Thus will I bear with patient grace What still befalls the Jewish race, And not forget those wondrous pages, Composed of old by worthy sages, Wherein 'tis said that we must bless Heaven in woe and happiness; And humbly then these words I say (With silent protest and dismay), “O Lord, I thank thee ('tis not scorn) That I was _not_ a woman born^[107-1].”

There are other similar passages in the _Eben Bochan_, in some of which the author ridicules, for instance, the way in which his fellow religionists were in the habit of celebrating the various feasts in the Jewish calendar. They entirely overlooked, he says, the moral significance attached to these days by their religion, but considered them to have been specially ordained for the sake of feasting and merry-making. Even the New Year's Day and the Day of Atonement were not spent by them in sincere devotion, but rather in quarrelling with each other about petty religious usages, to which they attributed much greater weight than they deserved.

Kalonymos elsewhere directs his attention to the prevailing faults of his neighbours. The objects of his satire are: the wealthy but ignorant Jewish snob; the conceited would-be literary genius; the questionable Talmudical and Hebrew scholar; and, lastly, the Jewish hypocrite, the man who essays to appear outwardly religious, while his heart is full of roguery. The latter is described by our author as follows:—

A hypocrite is strange of race, Who, with his sanctimonious face, Would fain appear in others' view As good, benevolent, and true; Who never cares a bit or bothers About the pleasant vice of others. But though he sets up as a saint, And boasts that none has made complaint Of any dark or base transactions In business or in other actions, Yet do not on his word rely, Remember “the spider and the fly.” For cunning is the hypocrite, With shrewd and money-making wit, And plays his game to great perfection, Whene'er he can escape detection; He robs and steals whene'er he can, And strips the shirt off the poorest man. His words may be as sweet as honey, But never trust him with your money; For once he's got it—to be plain— You'll never see your own again. Though he seems pious night and day, And ne'er forgets his prayers to say, And still performs his meet devotion, With bended head and endless motion, Yet, friend, as well as e'er you can, Avoid this crafty, godless man, Whose piety is dissimulation, To God a base abomination. Well may he sit with downcast look, With eyes glued to his Hebrew book, And shake his body to and fro His splendid holiness to show. But yet, in truth, his heart within Is hard as stone, and black with sin; And he is ever a sad disgrace To Jewish creed and Jewish race.

The prevailing tone of the _Eben Bochan_ is, however, serious. The author refers to the cruel persecutions which the Jews suffered in the years 1320 and 1321, being occasioned by the Shepherds and Lepers, as well as to the burning of the Talmud at Toulouse, which took place in the year 1319, at the instigation of a certain person named Bernard Gui. And elsewhere, again, in the same book, he appears in the capacity of a moralizing philosopher, impressing his readers with the necessity of making good use of their life, as it is so very short and uncertain. On one occasion he uses a beautiful metaphor, which is, indeed, not quite original^[109-1], but nevertheless striking. It runs as follows:—

“The world is like a vast and endless sea, upon which there floats a small and fragile little boat—namely, man. It is of artistic make and form, and looks as if it were the work of a master-hand. It is steered by the power of the divine spirit that directs its course, and keeps it constantly moving onward and onward, together with its heavy load of cargo—that is, man's actions during his life. After having started from the coast where it first came into existence it moves ever forward till it reaches the opposite coast, where there lies a new realm called Eternity, which consists of vast regions that shine with eternal light and splendour, and also of others that are enveloped in everlasting darkness. And God, the ruler of the universe, sits there on his throne, surrounded by his mighty messengers, the angels, to judge every newcomer. Now, O Son of Man! it will entirely depend on the nature of the cargo that thou hast landed on the opposite coast—namely, thy deeds in thy past life, whether thou wilt be sent to the regions that glow with eternal light, or to those in which darkness reigns supreme.”

Towards the end of the book Kalonymos states that he composed it in honour of ten friends. Their names are as follows:—

1. Abraham Caslari, who lived at Bezalu, near Perpignon, and was an eminent physician and author of several medical books. 2. Maestro Benedit, who lived at Arles, and was famous as a linguist and astronomer. He was also physician-in-ordinary to Queen Joan, the wife of King Andrew of Hungary. 3. Don Jonah Cavalier. 4. Don Todros Isaac, of Girone. 5. Don Judah des Cartel. 6. Don Bonafoux Shealtiel. 7. Don Bonsenor Gracian. 8. Don Chasdai Crescas. 9. Don Samuel Beneviste, who, according to Kayserling, was physician-in-ordinary to Don Pedro IV, king of Aragon. 10. Don Astruc Crespin.

Kalonymos says at the end of the _Eben Bochan_ that he finished it when he was eighty-three years old (‪בן שלש ושמונים שנה‬), while it is generally supposed that he died at the age of fifty. The only explanation that can be given of this discrepancy is, that the copyist of the manuscript may have put down by mistake that number for ‪בן שלשים ושמונה‬ =38, which would just be the time when Kalonymos was staying at Rome.

Less popular, though not less humorous, than the _Eben Bochan_ is Kalonymos's _Massecheth Purim_, the whole title of which in Hebrew is given as follows:—

‏ ‪ספר מגלת סתרים וספר מסכת פורים‬