CHAPTER X.
THE MEASFIM AND THE JUDÆO-CHRISTIAN SALON.
The Progressionists—The Gatherer (Meassef)—David Mendes—Moses Ensheim—Wessely's Mosaid—Marcus Herz—Solomon Maimon—Culture of the Berlin Jews—Influence of French Literature—First Step for Raising the Jews—The Progressive and Orthodox Parties—The Society of Friends—Friedländer and Conversion—Depravity of Berlin Jewesses—Henrietta Herz—Humboldt—Dorothea Mendelssohn—Schlegel—Rachel—Schleiermacher—Chateaubriand.
1786–1791 C. E.
The state of the German Jews, among whom the battle against unreason began, was more satisfactory than that of the Polish Jews. In Germany youthful activity and energy asserted themselves, an impulse to action that promised to repair in a short space of time the neglect of centuries. Great enthusiasm suddenly sprang up, which produced wonderful, or at least surprising, results, and overcame the benumbing effects of apathy. Young men tore the scepter from the grasp of the aged, and desired to preach new wisdom, or rather to rejuvenate the old organism of Judaism with new sap. The synagogue might well have exclaimed, "Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have lost my children, and am desolate, a captive, and removing to and fro? and who hath brought up these?" A new spirit had come upon these youths, which, in one night, put an end to their isolation, and transformed them into organs for historical reconstruction. As if by agreement they suddenly closed the ponderous folios of the Talmud, turned away from it, and devoted themselves to the Bible, the eternal fount of youth. Mendelssohn's Pentateuch translation poured out a new spirit over them, furnished them with a new language, and infused new poetry into them. Whence this body of spirited young men? What had hitherto been their course of education? Why were they so powerfully influenced? Suddenly they made their appearance, prophesied a new future, without knowing exactly what they prophesied, and, scarce fledged, soared aloft. From Poland to Alsace, from Italy to Amsterdam, London, and Copenhagen, new voices were heard, singing in harmonious union. Their significance lay wholly in their harmony; singly, the voices appear thin, piping, and untrained; only when united do they give forth a pleasant and impressive tone. Those who had but recently learnt to appreciate the beauties of Hebrew, came forward as teachers, to re-establish in its purity a language, so greatly disfigured, so generally used, and so continually abused. Inspired by ideals which the sage of Berlin had conjured up, they desired to pave the way to a thorough understanding of Holy Writ, to acquire a taste for poetry, and awaken zeal for science. Carried away by ardor, they ignored the difficulties in the way of a people, internally and externally enslaved, which seeks to raise itself to the heights of poetry and philosophy, and therefore they succeeded in accomplishing the revival. On the whole they achieved more than Mendelssohn, their admired prototype, because the latter was too cautious to take a step that might have an untoward result. But these youths pressed boldly forward, for they had no reputation to lose, and represented no interests that could be compromised.
This result was produced by a material and an ideal circumstance. Frederick's eagerness for money, his desire to enrich the land, almost compelled the Jews, especially those of Berlin, to accumulate capital. Owing to their manufactories, speculations, and enormous enterprises on the one hand, and their moderate manner of living on the other, the first Jewish millionaires arose in Berlin, and by their side many houses in affluent circumstances. But what could be done with these riches? To the nobility and the court, Jews were not admitted; the Philistine burghers closed their doors against these Jewish upstarts, whom they regarded with envy. There thus remained for wealthy Jews only literary intercourse, for which they have always had a preference. All or the majority had in their youth made the acquaintance of the Talmud, and were intimate with the world of books. This circumstance gave their efforts an ideal character: they did not worship Mammon alone; reading in their leisure hours was a necessity to them. As soon as German literature had been naturalized in their midst through Mendelssohn, they included it in their circle of studies, either with the serious object of cultivating themselves or to be in accord with fashion. In this matter they excelled the Christian citizens, who as a rule did not care for books. Jewish merchants, manufacturers, and bankers interested themselves in literary productions, as if they belonged to a guild of learned men, using for them the time that Christian citizens and workmen passed in drinking.
The first movement was made in Königsberg, a kind of colony to Berlin. In this town certain men had acquired wealth by their industry and circumspection, and shared in the culture dawning in Germany under the influence of French literature. Three brothers named Friedländer (Bärmann, Meyer, and Wolf) were the leaders. To this family belonged David Friedländer (born 1750, died 1834), a servile imitator of Mendelssohn, who by means of his connection by marriage with the banking-house of Daniel Itzig, obtained influence in Berlin (since 1771), and brought about close intercourse between Berlin and Königsberg. He also took part in the promotion of the revival among Jews. It was an event in the history of the Königsberg Jews, when Mendelssohn stayed there for several days while on a business journey. He was visited by distinguished persons, professors and authors, and was treated with extraordinary attention. Immanuel Kant, the profound thinker, publicly embraced him. This trifling occurrence gave to the cultured Jews of Königsberg a sort of consciousness that the Jew can by self-respect command the regard of the ruling classes. Moreover, the Königsberg University, at the instigation of certain liberal-minded teachers, especially Kant, admitted Jewish youths thirsting for knowledge as students and academical citizens. Among these young men, trained partly on Talmudical, partly on academical lines, there were two who awakened a new spirit, or rather, continued the quiet activity of Mendelssohn with greater effect. These were Isaac Abraham Euchel and Mendel Bresselau, both tutors employed by the wealthy, culture-loving Friedländers. Isaac Euchel, through Mendelssohn and Wessely, had acquired a dignified, correct Hebrew style contrasting most favorably with the corrupt language hitherto employed. His younger companion, Mendel Bresselau, who afterwards took part in the great contest against the old school, was of more importance. He was truly an artist in the Hebrew tongue, and without elaboration or ambiguity he applied biblical phraseology to modern conditions and circumstances. He took as his model the poet Moses Chayim Luzzatto, and like him composed a moral drama, entitled "Youth." Supported by two young members of the wealthy Friedländer family, Euchel and Bresselau, during the lifetime of Mendelssohn, and at the time of Wessely's conflict with the ultra-orthodox (spring, 1783), issued a summons to the whole Jewish world to establish a society for the promotion of the Hebrew language (Chebrath Dorshe Leshon Eber), and to found a journal to be called "The Gatherer" (Meassef). They had reckoned upon the support of Wessely, already recognized as an authority upon style, and had asked contributions from him, who, as they expressed themselves, "had taken down the harps from the willows of Babylon, and had drawn forth new songs from them." The aged poet gladly joined the young men, but, as if he had had a foreboding of the ultimate result, he warned them against turning their darts against Judaism, and in general against employing satire. Their summons found widespread response. They had chosen the right means to advance culture, and they satisfied a real want. The Hebrew language in its purity and chastity could alone accomplish the union between Judaism and the culture of the day.
"The Gatherer" found most encouragement in Berlin, the capital of Jewish culture. Here numerous literary contributions and material support were forthcoming. In this city lived a number of youths moved by the same aspirations as Euchel and Bresselau, who fostered enthusiasm for the Hebrew language, and renewed its youth. Not too proud to enter into rivalry with beginners, Mendelssohn also contributed a few Hebrew poems anonymously. It is characteristic of the newly-aroused spirit, that the fine introductory Hebrew verses in the periodical are represented as being written by a young child who modestly begs admittance, as if henceforth, not the grey-headed Eliphaz, but the youthful Elihu was to be spokesman, and lay down the law. Fresh names appeared in the newly-established organ, and their owners, under the collective name of Measfim, contributors to "The Gatherer" (Meassef, first published in the autumn of 1783), mark a definite tendency, a Sturm und Drang period of neo-Hebraic literature. Another pair of friends of Euchel and Bresselau afterwards undertook the editorship; these were Joel Löwe and Aaron Halle, or Wolfssohn—the one an earnest inquirer, the other a bold iconoclast, who first verified Wessely's fears, and, in a dialogue between Moses Maimonides and Moses Mendelssohn, subjected unprogressive Judaism to scathing criticism.
Two Poles residing in Berlin, Isaac Satanow and Ben-Zeeb, most accomplished masters of Hebrew style, also belonged to the Measfim, but their studies in German culture had an injurious effect upon their moral character. Besides, the small number of contributors to the "Gatherer" was swelled by Wolf Heidenheim, a strange man, who equally abhorred the crudeness and folly of the old system, and the frivolity and sophistry of the new, and banished his ill-humor by pedantically exact grammatical and Masoretic studies on the lines of the old masters. By his carefully arranged editions of old writings, if he did not destroy, he at least curbed, the old habits of slovenliness and carelessness.
The cultivators of Hebrew stretched out friendly hands to each other across widely-sundered districts, and formed a kind of brotherhood which spread to Holland, France, and Italy. David Friedrichsfeld was also an enthusiast for the Hebrew language and biblical literature. He possessed such delicate appreciation of the beauties of the language, that an ill-chosen Hebrew word caused him pain. He constantly insisted upon pure forms and expressions, and was a cultivated and severe judge. In his youth, Friedrichsfeld had chosen the better fate, by turning his back upon Prussia, so cruel to the Jews, and emigrating to the free city of Amsterdam. He heartily welcomed, with youthful ardor, the plan for the study of Hebrew, and lived to enjoy the good fortune of celebrating in Hebrew verse the complete emancipation of the Jews in Holland. At his proposition, the Jewish poets in Holland joined the ranks of the Measfim. The most renowned was David Franco Mendes in Amsterdam (born 1713; died 1792). He was descended from a Marrano family, was a disciple of the poet Luzzatto when the latter lived in Amsterdam, and took him as a pattern. A series of occasional poems, in the form of the Judæo-Spanish poetry of the seventeenth century, had gained him a name which was increased by his Hebrew historical drama, "The Punishment of Athalia" (Gemul Athalia). It distressed Franco Mendes to see how the Jews turned away from Hebrew to the fashionable French literature, because the latter produced beautiful, artistic works, whilst the Hebrew language seemed smitten with sterility. This disgrace Mendes desired to blot out, and, following in the wake of Racine and Metastasio, he undertook to dramatize the interesting history of the royal boy Joash who, to be protected from murderous hands, was brought up secretly in the Temple, and of the downfall of the bloodthirsty queen Athalia.
In France the Hebrew literature of the Measfim was represented by Moses Ensheim (Einsheim), or Moses Metz, who for several years was private tutor to Mendelssohn's children. He was a mathematician of great repute, whose work has been praised by qualified authorities of the first rank. Thus he wrote a work upon Integral and Differential Calculus, which won the applause of Lagrange and Laplace. But he never published any of his writings. He only gave voice to triumphal songs in Hebrew upon the victory of freedom over slavery in France, and some of these were sung in the synagogues. Ensheim influenced an advocate (Grégoire) of the liberation of his co-religionists in France, and provided him with material wherewith to defend them. Ensheim formed a contrast to an older teacher in Mendelssohn's house, Herz Homberg, a great favorite with Mendelssohn. The latter was deceived in him, and trusted in him too far when he invited his co-operation in the Pentateuch translation. Homberg was of a prosaic nature, actuated wholly by selfish motives, and was somewhat of a place-hunter. Through Homberg, during his stay in Görz, and Elijah Morpurgo, who corresponded with Mendelssohn and Wessely, the educational influence of the Measfim penetrated to Italy; and the younger generation, which afterwards united with the French Jews, drew inspiration from that source.
In this manner, the Hebrew language and neo-Hebraic poetry became a bond of union for the Jews of Western Europe, to some extent embracing also the Jews of Poland, and led the way to an astonishingly swift and enduring revival. The Hebrew tongue was known to almost all Jews, with the exception of a few ignorant villagers, and afforded an excellent medium for propagating European culture. Thousands of youths who studied the Talmud in various colleges, gradually, for the greater part secretly, took an active share in the movement, and drank deep draughts from the stream of innovation. Thus, with the expected deliverance from political oppression, which had already been realized in various places, there arose a peculiar excitement and confusion. The old and the new mingled, forming a kind of a spiritual hotch-potch. The question was raised whether or not, beside the Talmud, it was allowed to engage in biblical studies and profane literature, to cultivate philosophy, and in general to study the sciences (Chochmoth). The great rabbis, Ezekiel Landau, Raphael Cohen, and others, condemned such studies, whilst Mendelssohn and Wessely, blamelessly pious men, not only permitted, but even recommended them for the elevation of Judaism. Of the old and respected authorities, some permitted them and even occupied themselves therewith, whilst others prohibited and held aloof from them, as from some seductive sin. These important questions presented themselves to thinking Jewish young men, and gave rise to much disquietude. For the greater number the charm of novelty, the attractive language of the representatives of the new tendency, or the inclination to cast off burdensome ritual fetters decided the question. The number of those interested in the periodical, "The Gatherer," increased from year to year. The death of Mendelssohn also exerted a decided influence. His pupils—as such, all the Measfim regarded themselves—deified him, glorified him in bright colors, idealized him and his eventful history in prose and verse, pointed him out as an ideal worthy of imitation, and turned his renown to advantage in their cause. They went a step further, or widened the extent of their activity, aiming not merely at ennobling the Hebrew language, but at refinement in general. They called themselves "The Society for the Good and the Noble" (from 1787), without being able to define their purpose. The all-powerful stream of innovation could not be stemmed by the adherents of the old school. Unskillfully they attempted to vindicate the old system, exaggerating the dangers, and thereby losing all influence.
Thus in almost every large community, there arose a party of the "Enlightened" or "the Left," which had not yet broken with the old school, but whose action bordered upon secession. By the ultra-orthodox they were denounced as heretics, on account of their preference for pure language and form, both in Hebrew and European literature. This abusive name hurt them but little, and rather afforded them a certain amount of satisfaction. The outcome of the work of the Measfim was that they stirred men's minds, extending their range of observation, and leading them to ennobling thoughts and acts; but these writers did not leave any permanent results. Not a single production of the circle has enduring value. Their best performance was Wessely's swan-song, which possesses literary, if not artistic worth. Roused perhaps by the astonishment of Herder, the admirer of ancient Hebrew poetry, that no poet had celebrated the miracles of the departure from Egypt—whose center was the sublime prophet Moses—Wessely determined to compose a neo-Hebraic epic. Animated by the spirit of the prophets, there poured from his pen smooth, well-rounded, euphonious verses, which unroll before the eye the grand events that occurred from the cruel bondage in Egypt till the miraculous passage of the Red Sea and the wanderings in the wilderness. "Songs of Glory" Wessely called his Hebrew heroic poem, his Mosaid. In fact his verses and strophes are beautifully arranged and perfect in form. It is the best work that the school of the Measfim produced. Wessely's epic was so much admired that two Christian poets, Hufnagel and Spalding, rendered the first two cantos into German. The Mosaid is, however, by no means a masterpiece; it lacks the breath of true poetry, fancy and loftiness of conception. It is merely a history of the origin of the Israelites transcribed into verse, or, more correctly, a versified commentary on the Pentateuch. This criticism holds of the school as a whole; its disciples were good neo-Hebraic stylists, but as poets their ability was not even mediocre.
The appearance of the "Gatherer" aroused attention in Christian circles. The old assailant of the Jews, Michaelis, could not remain silent. Others greeted it as the dawn promising a fair day; it was in fact daybreak for the Jewish race. What is the distinction of a cultured people? Next to gentle manners, it consists in taste for harmonious forms and in the power to produce artistic creations. This taste and power, lost through external oppression and internal disorganization, were re-awakened among the Jews by the organ of the Measfim. To elevate the Jewish race to the rank of the cultured nations, nothing new was required; it was merely necessary that a comprehension of the beauties and sublimities of their own literature be inculcated.
In this period, the Jews owned profound philosophical thinkers, if not of the first, certainly of the second rank, who in acuteness of intellect almost surpassed Mendelssohn. Three are especially to be mentioned, who, though trained in the Mendelssohnian system, soon recognized its weaknesses, and directed their minds to new paths: these were Marcus Herz, Solomon Maimon, and Ben-David. The events of their lives picture on a small scale how the Jewish race as a whole worked its way from degradation and ignorance to freedom and enlightenment. Marcus (Mordecai) Herz (born in Berlin, 1747, where he died 1803) was the son of poor parents, and his father, like Mendelssohn's, supported himself and his family by copying Hebrew manuscripts. He received his Talmudical education in the school founded by Ephraim Veitel. Owing to poverty he was unable in spite of his talents to continue his studies, but at fifteen years of age was compelled to go to Königsberg as an apprentice. The desire for knowledge soon withdrew him from business and led him to the University, as the Albertina at that time admitted Jewish youths to the medical department. Philosophy, however, exerted greater attraction upon him. Herz was regarded as being gifted with the "keen mind peculiar to the Jewish nation." Kant, then at work upon his monumental system, saw Herz in his audience as often as the medical professors saw him in theirs. He distinguished him, drew him into the circle of his intimates, and treated him as his favorite disciple. When entering upon his professorship, according to an absurd and antiquated custom Kant had to argue in public upon a philosophical subject, and found no one better fitted than Herz to act as his assistant. Several University representatives objected that a Jewish student, however talented and superior to his Christian companions, should be allowed equal privileges with them. Kant, however, insisted upon his demand. Pressed by pecuniary difficulties, and because a Jew could not receive the degree at the Königsberg University, Herz returned to his native town and joined Mendelssohn's circle. He was, however, an advocate of the Kantian philosophy. He became at the same time a skilled physician, and practiced his art with conscientiousness and zeal. By his marriage with Henrietta de Lemos, he secured a large practice and numerous acquaintances as assistant-physician to his Portuguese father-in-law; and through his incisive wit and versatile knowledge he became a noted personage in the Prussian capital. When he delivered philosophical lectures upon the Kantian philosophy, still new and but little understood, many distinguished men were among his auditors. Had not progress been great, if notabilities sat at the feet of a Jew to hear his instruction upon the highest truths, whilst men like Michaelis roundly denied all possibility of culture in the Jews? Herz afterwards delivered discourses upon physics, and illustrated the marvellous laws of nature by experimental demonstration. These lectures were still more crowded; even the Crown Prince (afterwards King Frederick William III) and other princes did not disdain to enter the house of a Jew and be taught by him. His philosophical lucidity, acquired from Kant and Mendelssohn, contributed towards rendering his lectures upon medicine, as well as upon other subjects, enjoyable and appreciated. Herz was not, however, an independent thinker, able to illumine the dark ways of human knowledge by brilliant ideas; but he succeeded in explaining the profound thoughts of others and in making them intelligible to the average mind. Through his personality and his social position, Herz deeply influenced not alone the culture of Berlin Jews, but also of Christian circles.
Of the remarkable capacity of Jews for culture, Solomon Maimon was a still more striking example. This Pole, whose real name was Solomon of Lithuania, or of Nieszwiez (born about 1753, died 1800), rose from the thickest cloud of Polish ignorance to pure philosophical knowledge, attaining this height by his unaided efforts, but owing to his scepticism, he fell a prey to shocking errors. The story of his life is full of travel and restlessness, and is a good example of the versatility of Jews.
As in the case of Mendelssohn, Maimuni's philosophical religious work, "The Guide of the Perplexed" (More Nebuchim), was the cause of Solomon's intellectual awakening. He read the book until it became part of him, consequently assumed the name of Maimon, swore by the name of the Jewish sage whenever evil desire prompted him to sin, and conquered by its aid. But whereas Mendelssohn reached the right way through Maimuni, Solomon Maimon was led into error, doubt, and unbelief, and to the end of his life lived an aimless existence. In despair he snatched at the Kabbala, wishing to become a Jewish Faust, to conjure up spirits who would obtain deep wisdom for him; he also made a pilgrimage to the leader of the Chassidim, Beer of Mizricz. But the deception practiced disgusted him, and he quickly turned away from him. But what was he, with his spirit of scepticism, to do in a narrow world of rigid orthodoxy? Continually play the hypocrite? Rumor had carried a report to Poland, that in certain towns of Germany a freer religious system prevailed, and that more scope for philosophical inquiry was given. At this period a Pole felt no scruples in forsaking wife, children, and home, and wandering abroad. It cost Maimon the less effort, seeing that his wife had been thrust upon him when he was a child, and it was to his vexation that children were born to him. To appease his conscience he deceived himself by the pretext that he would study medicine in Germany, and be enabled to maintain himself and his family.
Thus Maimon left Lithuania (spring, 1777), at the age of twenty-five, "with a heavy, dirty beard, in torn, filthy clothes, his language a jargon composed of fragments of Hebrew, Judæo-German, and Polish, together with grammatical errors," as he himself says, and in this guise he introduced himself to some educated Jews in Königsberg, saying that he desired to devote himself to science. In this ragged Pole was a brain full of profound thoughts, which, as he grew older, developed into maturity. His journey from Königsberg to Berlin by way of Stettin was a succession of pitiful troubles. In Berlin the authorities refused to grant him residence. Those Poles who had severed themselves from the Talmud, and devoted themselves to science, lived in the odor of the worst heresy, and often gave occasion to suspicion. Maimon was sincere enough to admit the justice of this opinion. A moral life, activity of any kind, participation in the work of mankind, utilization of talent in the conquest of nature, man's liberation from the shackles of self-interest, the awakening of his moral impulse to act for the welfare of his brethren, the realization of the heavenly kingdom of justice and beneficent love—of all these ideals Maimon had no appreciation. These were indifferent matters, with which a thinker need not trouble himself. In this unsound state of mind he shunned all active work; to meditate idly and draw up formulas were his chief occupations. He attained no fixed goal in life, but staggered from folly to folly, from misery to misery.
To the general public he was first known through his "Autobiography," wherein he revealed the weak points of the Polish Jews, to him the only representatives of Judaism, as well as his own, with unsparing, cynical severity, as some years previously Rousseau had done in his "Confessions." He thereby performed an evil service for his co-religionists. His opinions concerning his brethren, originating in ill-humor, were accepted to their detriment as universal characteristics; and what he depicted as hateful in the Polish Jews was attributed to all Jews.
This kind of confession was considered extraordinary, and aroused great attention, in stiff, pedantic Germany. The "Autobiography" found its way into numerous circles, and gained many readers. The two great German poets, Schiller and Goethe, were absurdly fond of the cynical philosopher; and Goethe expressed the wish to have him live near him. His fame made Maimon neither better nor happier, and he did honor to the Jewish race only with his mental powers; in his actions he altogether dishonored it.
The third Jewish thinker of this time, Lazarus Ben-David (born in Berlin 1762; died there 1832), had neither the tragic nor the comic history of Maimon. He was a prosaic, pedantic personality, who in any German university could have filled the chair of logic and mathematics, and year after year given the same instruction unabridged and unincreased. For the philosophy of Kant, however, Ben-David possessed ardor and enthusiastic devotion, because he recognized it as the truth, and faithfully conformed to its moral principles. This philosophy was well suited to Jews, because it demanded high power of thought and moral action. For this reason Kant, like Aristotle in former days, had many Jewish admirers and disciples. Ben-David was also learned in the Talmud, and a good mathematician. It was perhaps a mistake on his part to go to Vienna to lecture upon the Kantian philosophy. At first the University permitted his discourses in its halls,—a Jew lecturing on a philosophy which denied the right of Catholicism to exist! He soon however had to discontinue them; but Count Harrach offered him his palace as a lecture-room. Meeting with obstacles here, too, he left the imperial city, continued his discourses in Berlin, and for some time acted as editor of a journal. Ben-David produced but little impression upon the course of Jewish history.
The German Jews, however, under Mendelssohn's inspiration, not only elevated themselves with great rapidity to the height of culture, but unmistakably promoted the spread of culture in Christian circles. Intellectual Jews and Jewesses created in Berlin that cultured public tone which has become the distinction of this capital, and has influenced the whole of Germany. Jews and Jewesses were the first to found a salon for intellectual intercourse, in which the elements of elevated thought, taste, poetry, and criticism mingled together in a graceful, light way, and were discussed, and made accessible to men of different vocations. The Christian populace of Berlin at the time of Frederick the Great and his successor greatly resembled that of a petty town. The nobility and high dignitaries were too aristocratic and uneducated to trouble themselves about intellectual and social affairs and the outside world. For them the court and the petty events of everyday life were the world. The learned formed an exclusive guild, and there was no high or wealthy class of burghers. The middle classes followed the narrow path of their old-fashioned German fathers; met, if at all, over the beer-jug, and were continually engaged in repeating stories of "old Fritz's victories." Particularly, the women lived modestly within their four walls, or occupied themselves wholly with the concerns of their family circles.
With the Jews of Berlin it was entirely different. All, or most of them, had been more or less engaged with the Talmud in their youth; their mental powers were acute, and susceptible to fresh influences. These new elements of culture Mendelssohn gave them through his Bible translation, and his philosophical and æsthetic writings. In Jewish circles, knowledge procured more distinction than riches; the ignorant man, however wealthy, was held up as a butt for contempt. Every Jew, whatever his means, prided himself on possessing a collection of old and new books, and, when possible, sought to know their contents, so that he might not be wanting in conversation. Every well-informed Jew lived in two worlds, that of business, and that of books. In consequence of the impulse given by Mendelssohn, the younger generation occupied itself with belles-lettres, language, and philosophy. The subjects of study had changed, but the yearning for knowledge remained, or became still stronger. Amongst the Jews of Berlin, shortly after the death of Mendelssohn, were more than a hundred young men burning with zeal for knowledge and culture, from whose midst the contributors to the periodical "Ha-Meassef" were supplied.
To this honest inclination for study, there was added a fashionable folly. Through Frederick the Great, French literature became acclimatized in Prussia, and Jews were especially attracted by the sparkling intellectuality of French wit. Voltaire had more admirers in the tents of Jacob than in German houses. Jewish youths ravenously flung themselves upon French literature, and acquired its forms; French frivolity naturally made its entry at the same time. The clever daughters of Israel also ardently devoted themselves to this fashionable folly; they learned French, at first, to be sure, for the purpo