CHAPTER IX.
THE NEW CHASSIDISM.
The Alliance of Reason with Mysticism—Israel Baalshem, his Career and Reputation—Movement against Rabbinism—The "Zaddik"—Beer Mizricz, his Arrogance and Deceptions—The Devotional Methods of the Chassidim—Their Liturgy—Dissolution of the Synods "of the Four Countries"—Cossack Massacres in Poland—Elijah Wilna, his Character and Method of Research—The Mizricz and Karlin Chassidim—Circumstances prove Favorable to the Spread of the New Sect—Vigorous Proceedings against them in Wilna—Death of Beer Mizricz—Progress of Chassidism despite the Persecution of its Opponents.
1750–1786 C. E.
As soon as an historical work has performed its service, and is to undergo a change, new phenomena arise from various sides, and assume a hostile attitude, either to alter or destroy it. It might have been foreseen that the rejuvenescence of the Jewish race, for which Mendelssohn had leveled the way, would produce a transformation and decomposition of religious habits among Jews. The innovators desired this, and hoped, and strove for it; the old orthodox party suspected and dreaded it. The process of dissolution was brought about also in another way, upon another scene, under entirely different conditions, and by other means, and this could not have been foreseen. There arose in Poland a new Essenism, with forms similar to those of the ancient cult, with ablutions and baths, white garments, miraculous cures, and prophetic visions. Like the old movement, it originated in ultra-piety, but soon turned against its own parent, and perhaps hides within itself germs of a peculiar kind, which, being in course of development, cannot be defined. It seems remarkable that, at the time when Mendelssohn declared rational thought to be the essence of Judaism, and founded, as it were, a widely-extended order of enlightened men, another banner was unfurled, the adherents of which announced the grossest superstition to be the fundamental principle of Judaism, and formed an order of wonder-seeking confederates. Both these new bodies took up a hostile position to traditional Judaism, and created a rupture. History in its generative power is as manifold and puzzling as nature. It produces in close proximity healing herbs and poisonous plants, lovely flowers and hideous parasites. Reason and unreason seemed to have entered into a covenant to shatter the gigantic structure of Talmudic Judaism. The attempt once before made by history, to subvert Judaism by the contemporaneous existence of Spinoza and Sabbataï Zevi, was now repeated by the simultaneous attacks of representatives of reason and unreason. Enlightenment and Kabbalistic mysticism joined hands to commence the work of destruction. Mendelssohn and Israel Baalshem, what contrasts! Yet both unconsciously undermined the basis of Talmudic Judaism. The origin of the new Chassidim, who had already become numerous, and who sprang up very rapidly, is not so clear as the movement started by Mendelssohn. The new sect, a daughter of darkness, was born in gloom, and even to-day proceeds stealthily on its mysterious way. Only a few circumstances which contributed to its rise and propagation are known.
The founders of the new Chassidism were Israel of Miedziboz (born about 1698; died 1759) and Beer of Mizricz (born about 1700; died 1772). The former received, alike from his admirers and his antagonists, the surname of "The Wonderworker by means of Invocations in the Name of God," Baalshem, or Baal-Shemtob, in the customary abbreviated form, Besht. As ugly as the name, Besht, was the form of the founder and the order that he called into existence. The Graces did not sit by his cradle, but the spirit of belief in wonderworking, and his brain was so filled with fantastic images that he could not distinguish them from real, tangible beings. The experiences of Israel's youth are unknown. So much, however, is certain; he was left an orphan, poor and neglected, early in life, and passed a great portion of his youth in the forests and caves of the Carpathian mountains. The spurs of the Carpathian hills were his teachers. Here he learnt what he would not have acquired in the dark, narrow, dirty hovels called schools in Poland—namely, to understand the tongue which nature speaks. The spirits of the mountains and the fountains whispered secrets to him. Here he also learned, probably from the peasant women who gathered herbs on the mountain-tops and on the edges of rivers, the use of plants as remedies. As they did not trust to the healing power of nature, but added conjurations and invocations to good and evil spirits, Israel also accustomed himself to this method of cure. He became a miracle-doctor. Necessity, too, was his teacher; it taught him to pray. How often, in his forsaken and orphaned condition, may he have suffered from want even of dry bread, how often may he have been surrounded by real or imaginary dangers! In his distress he prayed in the usual forms of the synagogue; but he spoke his words with fervor and intense devotion, or cried them aloud in the solitude of the mountains. His audible prayer awakened the echoes of the mountains, which appeared as an answer to his supplications. He seems to have been often in a state of rapture, and to have induced this condition by frantic movements of the whole body while praying. This agitation drove the blood to his head, made his eyes glitter, and wrought both body and soul into such a condition of over-excitement that he felt a deadly weakness come over him. Was this magnetic tension of the soul caused by the motions and the shouting, singing, and praying?
Israel Baalshem asserted that, in consequence of these bodily agitations and this intense devotion, he often caught a glimpse of infinity. His soul soared upward to the world of light, heard and saw Divine secrets and revelations, entered into conversation with sublime spirits, and by their intervention could secure the grace of God and prosperity, and especially avert impending calamities. Israel Miedziboz also boasted that he could see into the future, as secrets were unveiled to him. Was this a deliberate boast, self-deception, or merely an over-estimation of morbid feelings? There are persons, times, and places, in which the line of demarcation between trickery and self-delusion cannot be distinguished. In Poland, in Baalshem's time, with the terrible mental strain created by the Kabbala in connection with the Sabbatian fraud, the feverish expectation of imminent Messianic redemption, everything was possible and everything credible. In that land the fancy of both Jews and Christians moved among extraordinary and supernatural phenomena as in its natural element. Israel steadfastly and firmly believed in the visions seen when he was under mental and physical excitement; he believed in the power of his prayers. In his delusion he blasphemously declared that prayer is a kind of marriage union (Zivug) of man with the Godhead (Shechina), upon which he must enter whilst in a state of excitement. Equipped with alleged higher knowledge of secret remedies and the spirit world, to which he thought he had attained through Divine grace, Israel entered the society of men to prove his higher gifts. It must be acknowledged to his credit that he never misused these talents. He did not make a trade of them, nor seek to earn his livelihood with them. At first he followed the humble occupation of a wagoner, afterwards he dealt in horses, and when his means permitted it he kept a tavern.
Occasionally, when specially requested, he employed his miraculous remedies, and thereby gained so great a reputation that he was consulted even by Polish nobles. He became conspicuous by his noisy, delirious praying, which must have so transfigured him that men did not recognize the wagoner or horse-dealer whom they knew. He was admired for his revelation of secrets. In Poland not only the unlearned and the Jews considered such gifts and miracles possible; the Jesuits and the Kabbalists had stultified the Christians and the Jews of their country, and plunged them into a state of primitive barbarism.
It would have been a remarkable thing if such a wonder-doctor, who appeared to have intercourse with the spirit world, had not found adherents, but he can hardly have designed the formation of a new sect. He was joined by persons of a similar disposition to his own, who felt a religious impulse, which could not be satisfied, they thought, by a rigorous, penitential life, or by mechanical repetition of prescribed prayers. They joined Israel, in Miedziboz, to pray with devotion, i. e., in a sing-song tune, clapping their hands, bowing, jumping, gesticulating, and uttering cries. At almost the same time there arose, in Wales, a Christian sect called "the Jumpers," who resorted to similar movements during prayer, and induced trances and mesmeric dreams. At the same time there was established, in North America, the sect of the Shakers, by an Irish girl, Johanna Lee, who likewise in the delirium of prayer pursued mystic Messianic phantoms. Israel need not have been a trickster to obtain followers. Mysticism and madness are contagious. He particularly attracted men who desired to lead a free and merry life, at the same time hoping to reach a lofty aim, and to live assured of the nearness of God in serenity and calmness, and to advance the Messianic future. They did not need to pore over Talmudical folios in order to attain to higher piety.
It became the fashion in neo-Chassidean circles to scoff at the Talmudists. Because the latter mocked at the unlearned chief of the new order, who had a following without belonging to the guild of Talmudists, without having been initiated into the Talmud and its appendages, the Chassidim depreciated the study of the Talmud, avowing that it was not able to promote a truly godly life. Covert war existed between the neo-Chassidim and the Rabbanites; the latter could not, however, harm their opponents so long as Israel's adherents did not depart from existing Judaism. After the death of the founder, when barbarism and degeneracy increased, the feud grew into a complete rupture under Beer of Mizricz.
Dob Beer (or Berish) was no visionary like Israel, but possessed the faculty of clear insight into the condition of men's minds. He was thus able to render the mind and will of others subservient to him. Although he joined the new movement only a short time before Israel's death, yet, whether at his suggestion or not, Israel's son and sons-in-law were passed over, and Beer was made Israel's successor in the leadership of the neo-Chassidean community. Beer, who transferred the center to Mizricz—a village in Volhynia—was superior to his master in many points. He was well read in Talmudical and Kabbalistic writings, was a fluent preacher (Maggid), who, to further his purpose, could make the most far-fetched biblical verses, as also Agadic and Zoharic expressions, harmonize, and thus surprise his audience. He removed from the Chassidim the stigma of ignorance, especially disgraceful in Poland, and secured an accession of supporters. He had a commanding appearance, did not mingle with the people, but lived the whole week secluded in a small room—only accessible to his confidants—and thus acquired the renown of mysterious intercourse with the heavenly world. Only on the Sabbath did he show himself to all who longed to be favored with his sight. On this day he appeared splendidly attired in satin, his outer garment, his shoes, and even his snuff-box being white, the color signifying grace in the Kabbalistic language. On this day, in accordance with the custom introduced by Israel Besht, he offered up prayers together with his friends, with the strangers who had made a pilgrimage to him, with the new members, and those curious to see the Kabbalistic saint and wonderworker. To produce the joyous state of mind necessary to devout prayer, Beer indulged in vulgar jokes, whereby the merriment of the bystanders was aroused; for instance, he would joke with one of the circle, and throw him down. In the midst of this child's play he would suddenly cry out, "Now serve the Lord with gladness."
Under Beer's guidance, the constitution of Chassidism remained apparently in the same form as under his predecessor: fervent, convulsive praying, inspiration (Hithlahabuth), miraculous cures, and revelations of the future. But as these actions did not, as with Israel, flow from a peculiar or abnormal state of mind, they could only be imitated—artifice or illusion had to supply what nature withheld. It was an accepted fact that the Chassidean leader, or Zaddik, the perfectly pious man, had to be enthusiastic in prayer, had to have ecstatic dreams and visions. How can a clever plotter appear inspired? Alcohol, so much liked in Poland, now had to take the place of the inspiring demon. Beer had not the knowledge of remedial herbs, which his teacher had obtained in the Carpathian mountains. He, therefore, devoted himself to medicine, and if his remedies did not avail, then the sick person died of his sinfulness. To predict the future was a more difficult task, yet it had to be accomplished; his reputation as a thaumaturgist depended upon it. Beer was equal to the emergency. Among his intimates were expert spies, worthy of serving in the secret police. They discovered many secrets, and told them to their leader; thus he was enabled to assume an appearance of omniscience. Or his emissaries committed robberies; if the victims came to the "Saint" in his hermitage to find them out, he was able to indicate the exact spot where the missing articles were lying. If strangers, attracted by his fame, came to see him, they were not admitted, as mentioned, until the following Saturday, to take part in the Chassidean witches' Sabbath. Meantime his spies, by artful questions and other means, gleaned a knowledge of the affairs and secret desires of these strangers, and communicated them to the Zaddik. In the first interview Beer, in a seemingly casual manner, was able, in a skillfully arranged discourse, to bring in allusions to these strangers, whereby they would be convinced that he had looked into their hearts, and knew their past. By these and similar contrivances, he succeeded in asserting himself as omniscient, and increasing the number of his followers. Every new convert testified to his Divine inspiration, and induced others to join.
In order to strengthen respect for him, Beer propounded a theory, which in its logical application is calculated to promote most harmful consequences. Supported by the Kabbalistic formula, that "the righteous or the pious man is the foundation of the world," he magnified the importance of the Zaddik, or the Chassidean chief, to such an extent that it became blasphemy. "A Zaddik is not alone the most perfect and sinless human being, he is not alone Moses, but the representative of God and His image." All and everything that the Zaddik does and thinks has a decided influence upon the upper and lower worlds. The Deity reveals Himself especially in the acts of the Zaddik; even his most trifling deeds are to be considered important. The way he wears his clothes, ties his shoes, smokes his pipe, whether he delivers profound addresses, or indulges in silly jokes—everything bears a close relation to the Deity, and is of as much moment as the fulfillment of a religious duty. Even when drawing inspiration from the bottle, he is swaying the upper and nether worlds. All these absurd fancies owed their origin to the superstitious doctrines of the Kabbala, which, in spite of the unspeakable confusion they had wrought through Sabbataï Zevi and Frank, in spite of the opposition which their chief exponent, the Zohar, had encountered at about this time at the hands of Jacob Emden, still clouded the brains of the Polish Jews. According to this theory, the Zaddik, i. e., Berish Mizricz, was the embodiment of power and splendor upon earth. In his "Stübel," or "Hermitage," i. e., in his dirty little retired chamber, he considered himself as great as the papal vicar of God upon earth in his magnificent palace. The Zaddik was also to bear himself proudly towards men; all this was "for the glory of God." It was a sort of Catholicism within Judaism.
Beer's idea, however, was not meant to remain idle and unfruitful, but to bring him honor and revenue. While the Zaddik cared for the conduct of the world, for the obtaining of heavenly grace, and especially for Israel's preservation and glorification, his adherents had to cultivate three kinds of virtues. It was their duty to draw nigh to him, to enjoy the sight of him, and from time to time to make pilgrimages to him. Further, they were to confess their sins to him. By these means alone could they hope for pardon of their iniquities. Finally, they had to bring him presents, rich gifts, which he knew how to employ to the best advantage.
It was also incumbent upon them to attend to his personal wants. It seems like a return to the days of the priests of Baal, so vulgar and disgusting do these perversities appear. The saddest part of all is that this teaching, worthy of a fetish worshiping people, met with approbation in Poland, the country distinguished by cumbersome knowledge of Jewish literature. It was just this excess, this over-activity of the spiritual digestive apparatus, that produced such lamentable phenomena. The intellect of the Polish Jews had been so over-excited, that the coarsest things were more pleasing to them than what was refined.
Beer despatched abroad as his apostles bombastic preachers who seasoned his injurious teachings with distorted citations from the Scriptures. Simple-minded men, rogues, and idlers, of whom there were so many in Poland, attached themselves to the new Chassidim; the first from inclination to enthusiasm and belief in miracles; the cunning, in order to procure money in an easy way, and lead a pleasant existence; and the idlers, because in the court of the Zaddik they found occupation, and gratified their curiosity. If such idlers were asked what they were thinking of, as they strolled about pipe in mouth, they would reply with seriousness, "We are meditating upon God." The simple people, however, who hoped to win bliss through the Chassidean discipline, engaged continually in prayer, until through exhaustion they dropped unconscious.
Neo-Chassidism was favored by two circumstances, the fraternization of the members and the dryness and fossilized character of Talmudic study as carried on in Poland for more than a century. At the outset the Chassidim formed a kind of brotherhood, not indeed with a common purse, as among their prototypes, the Essenes and the Judæo-Christians, but having regard to the wants of needy members. Owing to the closeness of their union, their spying system, and their energy, it was easy for them to provide for those who lacked employment or food. On New Year and the Day of Atonement people, even those who dwelt at long distances, undertook pilgrimages to the Zaddik, as formerly to the Temple, and left their wives and children to pass the so-called holy days in the company of their chief, to be edified by his presence and actions. Here the Chassidean disciples learned to know one another, discussed local affairs, and rendered mutual help. Well-to-do merchants found opportunity at these assemblies, in conversation with fellow-believers, upon whose fidelity and brotherly attachment they could rely, to discover fresh sources of income. Fathers of marriageable daughters sought and easily found husbands for them, which at that time in Poland was considered a highly important matter. The common meals on the afternoons of Saturdays and the holidays strengthened the bonds of loyalty and affection among them. How could meals for so many guests be provided? The wealthy Chassidim regarded it as a duty to support the Zaddik liberally. A special source of income was the superstitious belief prevalent among the Chassidim that the Zaddik for certain sums (Pidion, Redemption) could ward off threatening perils and cure deadly diseases. Pressure was brought to bear upon wealthy but weak-minded persons, and they were terrified into believing that they could escape impending calamities only by rich gifts. Whoever desired to enter upon a hazardous transaction consulted the Zaddik as an oracle, and had to pay for his counsel. The cunning Chassidim knew everything, were ready with counsel in any emergency, and by their craftiness were able to afford real assistance. The Zaddik, however miserly he might be, had to assist the poor and distressed with his revenues. Thus every member received help here. Full of enthusiasm they returned home from their journey; the feeling that they belonged to a brotherhood elevated them, and they ardently looked forward to the return of the holy time. The poor and forsaken, the fanatical and the unprincipled, could not do better than join this union, this easy-going yet religious order.
Earnest men, also, desirous of satisfying their spiritual wants, felt themselves attracted to the Chassidim. Rabbinical Judaism, as known in Poland, offered no sort of religious comfort. Its representatives placed the highest value upon the dialectic, artificial exposition of the Talmud and its commentaries. Actual necessity had besides caused that portion of the Talmud which treated of civil law to be closely studied, as the rabbis exercised civil jurisdiction over their flocks. Fine-spun decisions of new, complicated legal points occupied the doctors of the Talmud day and night. Moreover, this hair-splitting was considered sublimest piety, and superseded everything else. If any one solved an intricate Talmudic question, or discovered something new, called Torah, he felt self-satisfied, and assured of his felicity hereafter. All other objects, the impulse to devotion, prayer, and emotion, or interest in the moral condition of the community, were secondary matters, to which scarcely any attention was paid. The mental exercise of making logical deductions from the Talmud, or more correctly from the laws of Mine and Thine, choked all other intellectual pursuits in Poland. Religious ceremonies had degenerated, both amongst Talmudists and the unlearned, into meaningless usages, and prayer into mere lip-service. To men of feeling this aridity of Talmudic study, together with the love of debate, and the dogmatism and pride of the rabbis arising from it, were repellent, and they flung themselves into the arms of the new order, which allowed so much play for the fancy and the emotions. Especially preachers, semi-Talmudists who were looked upon and treated by erudite rabbi-Talmudists as inferior and contemptible, who eked out a wretched living, or almost starved, leagued themselves with the neo-Chassidim, because among them their talents of preaching were appreciated, and they could obtain an honorable position, and be secured against need. By the accession of such elements the circle of neo-Chassidim became daily augmented. Almost in every town lived followers of the new school, who occasionally had intercourse with their brother-members and their chief.
With advancing strength the antipathy of the neo-Chassidim to the rabbis and Talmudists increased. Without being aware of it they formed a new sect, which scorned intercourse with the Talmud Jews. With Beer at their head, they felt themselves strong enough to introduce an innovation, which would naturally bring down the anger of the rabbis upon them. Since prayer and the rites of Divine service were the chief consideration for them, they did not trouble themselves about the prescriptions of the ritual law as to how many prayers should be said, nor at what time the different services should commence and terminate, but were entirely guided by the feeling of the moment. Through their daily ablutions, baths, and other preparations for public worship they were seldom ready for prayer at the prescribed time, but began later, prolonged it by the movements of their bodies and their intoning, and suddenly came to an end after omitting several portions. They were especially averse to the harsh interpolations in the Sabbath and festival prayers (the Piyutim). These insertions interrupt the most important and suggestive portions of the service. To abolish these at a blow, Beer Mizricz introduced the prayer-book of the arch-Kabbalist, Isaac Lurya, which for the greater part conforms to the Portuguese ritual, and does not contain poetical (poetanic) additions. In the eyes of the ultra-orthodox this innovation was an enormous, or rather a double crime, permitting, as it did, the omission of interpolations hallowed by custom, and the exchange of the German ritual for the Sephardic.
This innovation would probably have been severely visited upon the neo-Chassidim, but that at this time, when the political power of Poland lay crushed, the firm political connection of the Polish Jews had also been dissolved. Poland was distracted by civil war. "In this country," as the Primate of Gnesen complained at the opening of the Reichstag, March, 1764, "freedom is oppressed, the laws are not obeyed, justice cannot be obtained, trade is utterly ruined, districts and villages are devastated, the treasury is empty, and the coin of the realm has no value." It had been enfeebled by the Jesuits, and was already regarded by Russia as a sure prey. Its king—Stanislaus Augustus Poniatowski—was a weakling, the plaything of internal factions and external foes (September, 1764). In the first year of his reign, Poniatowski among other laws issued a regulation which destroyed the communal union of the Polish Jews. The synod of the Four Countries, composed of delegates, rabbis and laymen (Parnassim), with authority to pronounce interdicts and levy fines, was not permitted to assemble, pass resolutions, or execute them.
The dissolution of the synod was very fortunate for the neo-Chassidim. They could not be excommunicated by the representatives of the Polish Jewish world, but each individual congregation had to proceed against them and forbid their meetings. Even this step was not taken at once, as the terrible death-struggle in which Poland engaged before its first partition was severely felt by the wealthy Jews, who trembled for their lives. The Confederation War broke out, which made many districts a desert; Poland was punished by eternal Justice in the same way as it had sinned. In the name of the pope and the Jesuits it had always persecuted dissenters, and excluded them from public offices, and, in the name of the dissenters, Catherine plunged the land into fratricidal war. The Russians, for the second time, let loose against Poland the Zaporogian Cossacks—the savage Haidamaks—who inflicted death, by every known method, upon the Polish nobles, the clergy, and the Jews. The Haidamaks hung up together a nobleman, a Jew, a monk, and a dog, with the mocking inscription, "All are equal." Most inhuman cruelties were inflicted upon captives and the defenseless. In addition came the Turks, who, in the guise of saviours of Poland, murdered and plundered on every side. The Ukraine, Podolia, in general the southern provinces of Poland, were turned into deserts.
These misfortunes were more advantageous than injurious to the neo-Chassidim. They spread in the north, and whilst hitherto they had been able to carry on their cult only in small, comparatively young communities, from this time they gained ground in the large and old congregations. Their numbers had already grown to such an extent that they formed two branches—the Mizriczians and the Karlinians—the former called after their original home, the latter after the village of Karlin, near Pinsk. The Karlinians spread as far as Wilna and Brody. At first they proceeded cautiously. As soon as at least ten persons had assembled, they looked for a room (Stübel) in which to conduct their services; there they practiced the rites of their creed, and sought to gain new adherents; but all this was skillfully done, so that nothing came to light before they had secured a firm foothold. In Lithuania their system was not yet known, and thus at first they aroused no suspicion.
The first violent attack upon them was made by a man whose influence was blessed during his lifetime, and even after death, and who, in a more favorable environment, might, like Mendelssohn, have effected much for the moral advancement of his co-religionists. Elijah Wilna (born 1720; died 1797), whose name, with the title of "Gaon," is still mentioned by the Lithuanian Jews with reverence and love, was a rare exception among the mass of the Polish Jews. He was of the purest character, and possessed high talents, which he did not put to perverted uses. It suffices to say of his character that in spite of his comprehensive and profound Talmudical erudition, he refused a post as rabbi, in contrast to most scholars in Poland, who were office-seekers, and obtained rabbinates by artifice. In spite of the marvelous fertility of his pen in many domains of Jewish literature, he allowed nothing to be published during his lifetime, again in contradistinction to contemporary students, who, in order to make a name and to see their ideas in print, scarcely waited till the ink of their compositions was dry. In his disinterestedness, Elijah Wilna realized the ideal of the Talmud, that a teacher of Judaism "should use the Law neither as a crown to adorn himself therewith, nor as a spade to dig therewith." In spite of the superiority of his knowledge and the full and general recognition accorded him, he modestly and conscientiously avoided asserting himself. The gratification that results from research, from the seeking of knowledge, completely satisfied him. His intellectual method corresponded in its unaffected simplicity with his character and life. As a matter of course, the Talmud and all the branches connected with or dependent on it filled his mind. But he disliked the corrupt method of his countrymen, who indulged in hair-splitting, casuistry, and subtleties. His sole aim was to penetrate to the simple sense of the text; he even made an attempt at the critical examination and emendation of texts, and by his undistorted explanations he blew down the houses of cards which the subtle Talmudists had erected upon quicksand.
It required extraordinary mental force to swim against the high tide of custom and rise above the aberrations into which all the sons of the Talmud in Poland had fallen. In point of fact Elijah Wilna stood isolated in his time. It seemed as though from his youth he had been afraid of following the errors of his compatriots, for he attached himself to no special school, but, strange to say, was his own teacher in the Talmud. Talmudical studies did not exclusively occupy his mind. Elijah Wilna devoted great attention to the Bible—a rarity in his circle—and, what was still more unusual, he acquainted himself with the grammar of the Hebrew language. Unlike his compatriots, he by no means despised a knowledge of extra-Talmudic subjects, but studied mathematics, and wrote a book upon geometry, algebra, and mathematical astronomy. He exhorted his disciples and friends to interest themselves in profane sciences, and openly expressed his conviction that Judaism would be the gainer from such studies. Only his scrupulous piety, his immaculate conduct, his unselfishness, and his renunciation of every office and position of honor, saved him from the charge of heresy on account of his pursuing extra-Talmudical branches of knowledge.
Elijah Wilna, above all, implanted a good spirit in the Lithuanian Jews. He taught his