Returning to Germany we behold the leading Jews at last awakened to the necessity of energetic measures to check the wide-spread disaffection that was thinning out their ranks. Hitherto the liturgy of the synagogue had not been affected by the growing tendency to change. An attempt in this direction was initiated by Israel Jacobsohn, the financial agent of the Duke of Brunswick, a man of wealth, culture, and generous disposition. He was shocked by the scenes of disorder, the utter lack of decorum, that disgraced the public worship; he was resolved as far as in his power lay to correct the abuses which had been allowed to grow up unrestrained in the gloomy period of mediaeval persecution, and to win back to the faith those whose affections had been estranged by the barbarous form in which it appeared to view. He erected at his own expense, and dedicated on July 17, 1810, in the town of Seesen, a new temple,* at the same time introducing certain radical modifications into the service which we shall presently take occasion to consider.

Being appointed to the Presidency of the Consistory of Cassel, during the reign of Jerome Bonaparte, he took advantage of his official position to urge his innovations upon the congregations under his charge. In 1815 he transplanted the "new fashion in religion" to Berlin, and in 1818 assisted in founding the temple at Hamburg, which soon became one of the leading strongholds of Reform. A provisional service on the same plan was likewise instituted at Leipsic,* during the period of the annual fair, and tidings of the reform were thus rapidly transmitted to distant parts of Germany. The main changes introduced by Jacobsohn, and copied by others, may be briefly summed up as follows: The introduction of regular weekly sermons, which had not previously been customary; of prayers in the vernacular by the side of the Hebrew; of choir singing with organ accompaniment, and the confirmation of young children. These innovations implied a revolution in the character of the public worship.

The Jewish people had been wont to regard themselves individually and collectively, as soldiers in the army of their God, commissioned to wage warfare against every species of false religion. A spirit of martial discipline, as it were, pervaded their ranks. The repetition of prayers and benedictions by day and night in the privacy of domestic life, on the public square and by the roadside, was a species of drill intended to keep alive in them the consciousness of their mission, and to prepare them for the emergencies of actual conflict. Thrice a day they mustered in their synagogues, and renewed their oath of allegiance in the presence of their spiritual king. The term Jewish Church, though in frequent use, is a misnomer based upon false analogy. The difference between the synagogue and the church is as clearly marked as that between Judaism and Christianity themselves. The sentimental element, using the word in its nobler signification, which is distinctive of the latter, is almost entirely lacking in the former. Both make it their aim to elevate the moral life in man, but while Judaism acts through the will upon the affections, Christianity places the affections in the foreground and seeks by their means to persuade and captivate the will.

It cannot be denied that the Reformers had in some measure modified the traditional character of Jewish worship. The purely emotional element acquired a prominence which it had never had before, the very word employed to designate the purpose of the temple service—"Erbauung," edification—was foreign to the ancient vocabulary of Judaism. In another direction, too, they transgressed the limits prescribed by time-honored usage. We have referred above to the ceremony of confirmation, which has since been generally adopted by congregations of the Reform school. On some festival or Sabbath—the Feast of Weeks, celebrated about Whitsuntide, being commonly preferred—boys and girls of thirteen or fourteen are assembled in the temple, where, after having undergone an examination in the chief tenets of their religion, they are required to repeat aloud a confession of faith. The ceremony usually attracts a large congregation, and is one of the few institutions introduced by the Reformers that have strongly seized upon the popular heart.

The natural concern of parents for the welfare of their offspring lends a solemn interest to the occasion. At an age when the child's character begins to assume definite outlines, when the reason unfolds, and the perils and temptations that attend every pilgrim on the valley road of life, approach near, an instinctive prompting of the human heart leads us to forecast the future of sons and daughters, and to embrace with joy whatever means are placed at our disposal to guard them against aberration and misfortune. To utilize the impressiveness of a great public gathering, the sympathetic presence of parents and friends, the earnest monitions of a wise and revered teacher, in order to confirm them in every virtuous endeavor and high resolve, is therefore fit and proper.*

The propriety of exacting a formal confession of faith, however, has been hotly disputed both by the orthodox and the more advanced liberals. It is urged that Judaism is a practical, rather than a dogmatical religion. Even the existence of a God is rather presupposed as a fact than asserted as a matter of belief. Apart from this it is claimed that a child at thirteen can hardly be prepared to comprehend the fundamental questions of religion, much less to express convictions on problems so grave and difficult. The age of reflection and consequently of doubt is yet to come, nor can any child on the day of its confirmation answer for its convictions ten years thereafter.

The progress of the Reform movement was thus of a character to awaken distrust and fierce contention at every step. The conservative party were enraged at what they considered unwarrantable encroachments upon the traditions of an immemorial past. The radicals were dissatisfied with the lack of substance and vitality in the teachings of the Reformers, the shallow moralizing tone of their preachers, the superficial views of Judaism which they scattered among the multitude.

It may indeed be asked how could better things have been expected at that time. The great facts of Jewish history were not yet clearly known, the philosophy of Judaism was proportionately vague and uncertain. No Jewish author had ever undertaken to write out the annals of his people; chaotic confusion reigned in their chronicles. To know what Judaism might be it seemed necessary to ascertain in the first instance what it had been; the past would prove the index of the future. Untoward events that happened at this period gave a powerful impulse to historical research, and led to fruitful investigations in the domain of Judaism.