A MODERN HEBREW HUMORIST

Though Hebrew literature is commonly reckoned as one of the ancient literatures it has an advantage over them which is not inconsiderable. It is that while no other ancient literature can be said to have ever risen to any remarkable height of excellence after the close of its golden age, in the case of the Hebrew there were at least three noteworthy revivals after its first classical period had ended. The first occurred some time about the return of the ancient Hebrews from the Babylonian exile to Palestine; the second during the Middle Ages in Spain, France, and Italy; and the third in modern times in Galicia, a country which forms part of the Austrian empire. During the second half of the eighteenth century a small band of writers of Hebrew prose and poetry, who may be regarded as the founders of what is now termed the Galician school, flourished there. The foremost representative of the school was Isaac Erter.

He was born in the year 1792 in a small Galician village called Janischock. His father, a poor innkeeper, in spite of his indigence, did not neglect to have his son educated in Hebrew and Talmudical lore. When young Erter had made some progress in these studies, which, by the way, he only learnt mechanically and on no fixed plan, his father caused him to marry a Rabbi's daughter, who, however, died within the first year after their marriage. Old Erter, however, insisted upon his son marrying again; and the second marriage proved a very happy one, in spite of the difficulties which a married man with no definite means of subsistence is bound to encounter. Perhaps to relieve the monotony of his life he mixed with the members of a strange religious sect known by the name of “Chassidim.” Their chief characteristics were the hilarity and excitement of their lives, and their passionate devotion to their spiritual leader called “Rebbe.” Although these “Rebbes” are, as a rule, illiterate persons, they are nevertheless held in high esteem by their devotees, who credit them with the possession of supernatural powers, by means of which they are able to work miracles. But, after a time, Erter grew weary of this society and its absurd practices, and went to live at Lemberg, the capital of Galicia. There he soon became acquainted with several young men of talent and culture who interested themselves on his behalf, and procured him pupils whom he instructed in Hebrew and religious subjects. They also made him acquainted with the works of Maimonides and Mendelssohn, to the study of which he later on devoted many of his leisure hours. He here passed three happy years (from 1813 to 1816), and enjoyed the society and friendship of some genial spirits, among whom may particularly be mentioned Rapoport, afterwards Chief Rabbi of Prague, and Nachman Krochmal, the renowned Hebrew scholar and philosopher. Subsequently when Jacob Ornstein, the then Chief Rabbi of Lemberg, heard of the existence among his flock of a small and youthful band who occupied themselves with the study of secular subjects, he became alarmed, and forthwith excommunicated all the culprits. The immediate effect of this upon Erter was the loss of his pupils, and with them of his livelihood. He consequently decided to settle in the neighbouring town of Brody. On his arrival there he met with a hearty reception from the enlightened section of the Jewish community, and as a new Jewish school had just been inaugurated there he was entrusted with its management. After a short time, however, he resigned his position, and made up his mind to prepare himself for a more independent calling. With this object Erter left his grown-up family of daughters in charge of some friends and went to Buda-Pesth, at the university of which town he intended to prepare himself for the medical profession. He was then thirty-three years old, and had neither money nor friends to assist him, but after five years' hard study, accompanied by severe privations, he succeeded in passing all the necessary examinations, and took his degree, and soon after began to practise in the country. It so happened that at that time the cholera was raging, and as Erter displayed considerable skill in dealing with the epidemic, he drew upon himself the attention of the Austrian government, which entrusted him with the task of preparing certain essays, treating of the origin and spread of contagious diseases. Ultimately he returned to Brody, and continued to practise there, making himself especially popular among the poor, who found in him a kindly benefactor. His leisure time he devoted to his favourite occupation, the composition of Hebrew essays, or rather satires on Jewish subjects. He usually sent them to his literary friends to be read and criticized before allowing them to be printed in the current Hebrew periodicals. Among them he reckoned, in addition to Rapoport and Krochmal, Professor S. D. Luzzatto, Shalom Cohen (editor of the Hebrew periodical Bikurey-Ha-Ittim, and Dr. Letteris, the subsequent editor and publisher of Erter's collected writings under the title of ????? ???? ?????^[129-1].

The last years of Erter's life were again visited by various trials, chiefly caused by the untimely death of his two married daughters, to whom he had been deeply attached. He did not, however, survive them long. He died in the year 1851.

From what has been said it will be seen that Erter's life was a hard one, and it is to this very circumstance that the existence of the excellent Hebrew satires contained in the Zophe is due. His sad experiences during the early part of his married life, his association with the “Chassidim,” the treatment he had received at the hands of the Chief Rabbi of Lemberg, and, finally, the observations he had made in his capacity as a medical practitioner—all these, and many other things, are graphically described therein. His style is full of humour and sarcasm, and the book possesses the true mark of excellence, inasmuch as familiarity with it merely adds to its attractiveness. Erter also wrote some poetical pieces, but they bear no comparison with his masterly prose, which, as Graetz well says, has points of resemblance to that of Heine.

The titles of the satires in question are: 1. ????? ????. 2. ????? ????? ?????????. 3. ????? ???. 4. ?????. 5. ????? ??? ?????? ????????. 6. ?????? ?????, and each section treats of a different subject. It would be no easy task for any one to reproduce in English, or in any other language, the many beauties of form and style found in the original Hebrew of these satires. Equally difficult would it be to arrange them in order of merit, since each has a peculiar charm of its own. But the following free translation of some parts of the satire, entitled ????? ??? (“Transmigration of the Soul”), may, perhaps, give the reader a faint idea of Erter's methods. It begins as follows:—

“I am a physician, and it is my duty to heal the wounds, and to procure a remedy for every disease of the body. It is true that those of my colleagues, who can boast of possessing high-sounding titles, look down upon me with a certain contempt, inasmuch as they think that they alone have a right to speak with authority of things they do not know much about. But I am, nevertheless, as well qualified a medical practitioner as they are, and my patients do not fare worse than theirs. The only difference between them and myself is, perhaps, to be found in the fact that they drive to their patients' houses in splendid carriages, while I visit mine on foot. For the more horses and carriages a physician has, the more knowledge and medical skill is attributed to him by the members of the Jewish faith. Moreover, these distinguished and betitled physicians, who are mostly employed by the wealthy classes of the community, are generally handsomely rewarded for their services, even when their patients die an untimely death, for among the rich even death is an expensive affair. But I, whose chief practice is carried on among the poor, am seldom rewarded for my services, and if any of them die, then his or her soul ‘goes out for nothing.’

“I once passed in front of the house in which one of my patients had died shortly before. He did not die quite suddenly, but had been ill for some time, and I was called in to prescribe for him. He happened to be well off, and after I had visited him once or twice, and he got no better, a great crowd of his female neighbours and relations came—for the rich are always surrounded by their relatives and pretended friends—and said compassionately: ‘This poor sufferer is still in bed, and shall we keep silence? Can that man (pointing to me) be expected to restore him to health again? Where are his horses, and where is his carriage? Let us call in some better and more skilful men, and let them have a consultation about the case!’ Better and more skilful men were summoned; they arrived and examined the patient. They then nodded their wise heads, and prescribed a new medicine, which, having been fetched from the apothecary's shop, was given to the patient. He took it once or twice, and was soon after ‘gathered to his fathers.’”

Here follows a long and humorous description of the author's meeting with the soul of his recently departed patient. The soul told him the story of its many adventures during its long earthly career; how it frequently passed over from one body into another, and how it had once also been transferred from the body of an ass into that of a physician. In that capacity, the soul informed the author that it had prospered greatly, not on account of its cleverness or ability, but because it had acted on certain practical rules which it recommended the author to follow in his profession. The soul then goes on to explain what they are:—

“1. Powder your hair white, and place on the table of your study a human skull and some curious skeletons of the animal world. Those coming to you for medical advice will then say that your hair must surely have turned white through overwork in your profession, and through your protracted studies in the domain of natural science.

“2. Fill your library with large-sized books that are richly bound in red and gold. No matter whether you ever open and read them or not, people will always have a high opinion of your great acquirements and wisdom.

“3. Sell and pawn everything for the sake of having a carriage of your own. Your patients may die right and left through your errors of judgment, yet the fact of having your carriage waiting outside their doors will shield you from adverse criticism.

“4. If called to a patient you must pay less attention to him and his malady than to those persons who are round about him. On leaving the sick-room assume a grave face, and say that the case is a very critical one. Should the patient die then you will have hinted at his death; but if, on the other hand, he gets well again, his relations and friends will naturally attribute his recovery to your extraordinary medical skill.

“5. Have as little as possible to do with the poor. For, as they will only send for you in hopeless and desperate cases, you will not gain any honour or reward by attending them. Be therefore exceedingly reserved with them, and keep them at a distance. Let them wait outside your house, and those who pass by will look with amazement at the crowd patiently waiting to obtain your services.

“6. Consider every medical practitioner as your natural enemy, and speak always of him with the utmost disparagement. If he happens to be young, then you must say that he has not had sufficient experience, and can do no good; and if he is old, you must declare that either his eyesight is bad, or that he is a little crazy, and is not fit to be trusted in important cases.

“7. If asked to take part in a consultation with other physicians, you will be acting wisely if you always loudly protest against the previous treatment of the case by your colleagues. Whatever the issue of the case may be, you will always be on the safe side.”

In the same satire Erter speaks in by no means flattering terms of his old enemy, the Chief Rabbi of Lemberg, to whom he had already alluded in another satire, entitled ????? ????. There he had censured him for having published a bulky commentary on the well-known code of Jewish laws, called Shulchan Aruch, under the title of ?????? ????, as being the work of his own pen. But Erter shows that the contribution of the learned divine was limited to the title-page, while the rest of it was in reality the work of other authors. Not satisfied with this revelation, however, Erter seizes the opportunity offered to him in the satire “Transmigration of the Soul” to refer again to the soul of the same Rabbi, who had once caused him such great trouble. This soul, says Erter, made him a full confession of its origin, and declared that it had formerly belonged to a mean, scurvy, and ill-tempered watchdog. Being too dangerous an animal to be allowed to move freely about, it had to be kept chained to its kennel. There it kept straining at its chain, watching all the time for any passersby; and when it saw some one coming it began to howl and to bark violently, and incited all the dogs in the neighbourhood to follow his example, resulting in a deafening uproar. Woe to the person who came within its reach without being provided with a long stick or some other protective weapon. For the dog would attack him suddenly, and cause him serious injuries. But, on the other hand, if the stranger were well armed, the savage brute would, in spite of its pretended courage, retreat at once and crouch behind its kennel. This dog once swallowed a big bone, in consequence of which it died an untimely death, but its soul continued its transmigration, and entered the body of a human being. When the latter grew up and became a man he still retained the nature and the characteristics peculiar to the canine species, or rather to a cowardly watchdog. Unfortunately he thought fit to choose the Jewish ministry for his calling, and as ill-luck would have it succeeded ultimately in obtaining the guardianship of the souls of his flock. Far from following the golden path of a true minister of the Jewish religion, who is in duty bound to promote peace and harmony in his community, he allowed himself to be guided by his canine instinct, and hectored every one whom he disliked. He thundered forth his indiscriminate anathemas against those persons who wished to enter the portals of the temple of knowledge, and induced his adherents to assist him in carrying out his holy work. But, like his cowardly prototype, the watchdog, he only inflicted mortal wounds on the helpless and the unprotected, while he did not dare to harm the rich and powerful, as well as influential members of his flock who resisted him. When the Rabbinical tyrant died his soul, says Erter, migrated into the body of a fox, and thence, in due course, it again entered into the human frame of a spiritual leader of the “Chassidim.”

The “Rebbe” swindle and the clever tricks of the whole fraternity of these performers of supernatural wonders give plenty of scope to Erter's satire, and he is never weary of ridiculing them. In the satire under notice Erter gets hold of the soul of such a “Rebbe,” and causes it to relate some of the adventures through which it had passed during its earthly career. Among other amusing stories it also gives a description of a clever trick, by means of which its late owner, the “Rebbe,” had extricated himself from an awkward position, and shows how he had deceived his devotees even at the time of his death.

“My own son,” says the soul of the departed ‘Rebbe,’ “was once ill, and my wife, his mother, came to me and implored me to offer prayers to God that his life might be spared. ‘Be not afraid,’ I said to her, ‘the son of God's favourite will not perish.’ Next day, and the day after, my wife begged me again in the name of heaven and earth to intercede on behalf of the poor sufferer whose illness had meanwhile taken a turn for the worse. But I answered, and said, ‘Compose yourself, you silly woman. I have already assured you that my son shall not die.’ Later in the day my wife rushed into my room, bathed in tears, and exclaiming, ‘Alas, the Lord has dealt very bitterly with me, and has taken from me my beloved child. What shall I do, and what shall my life be without him, the joy of my existence?’ Now it so happened that several of my devotees were present when I told my wife that her son would not die, and again when she actually informed me of his death. I was thus placed in an awkward predicament; but soon a happy thought struck me, which helped me out of my embarrassment. I pretended to be amazed at the sad news, and exclaimed, ‘What? am I to believe that my own son has died, and no information has reached me from heaven? No! never. You may do with my son whatever you like, but I cannot acknowledge his death till it has been officially notified to me from the world of spirits.’ And when, in due course, the remains of my son were carried away to their last resting-place, I did not tear my garments according to the general custom, nor did I follow the funeral procession, pretending all the time to be unaware of the fact of my son's death. But after the lapse of several days, when sitting one evening in the midst of my adherents and devotees, explaining to them some passages of the Bible in my own mysterious way, I suddenly burst into tears. ‘Alas!’ I exclaimed, ‘now, just now, I begin to believe in my son's death, for a heavenly message has just informed me of the sorrowful event.’ Soon after, I began to mourn over my son's demise, and all the people round about me looked on with amazement, and believed in me and in my holiness more firmly and more truly than they had ever done before.”

The soul then goes on to relate the circumstances which caused its departure from the “Rebbe's” body.

“One evening,” it said, “which happened to be the eve of the festival called Simchath Torah, the ‘Rebbe’ leaped and danced, according to his usual custom, round the Bimah (‘reading platform’) of his little synagogue, amidst the acclamations of his devotees. As on many other occasions he had then also drunk a good deal of intoxicating wine, and felt exceedingly jolly. In that sportive mood he called out: ‘Make room for all the saints of the Bible, who have just come here to rejoice with me on this joyful festival. Let me drink the health of Father Abraham and of the other patriarchs, who accompany him.’ And amidst his shouting and drinking he suddenly beheld a vision. It seemed to him that the walls of the synagogue were turning round and round, and, fearing lest he might fall to the ground, and his condition be observed by the bystanders, he quickly exclaimed: ‘Come ye, my spiritual guests, Abraham, Isaac, and all the rest of you, and follow me to my own room. There we will have a sacred meeting, and discuss our secret affairs.’ Saying which, he staggered into his own room, and locked and bolted the door behind him.

“When the devotees saw this, they said to each other: ‘No one is like our Master; no one can be compared to our holy “Rebbe”; he is a perfect saint, the Holy of holies to the letter. How they all left paradise, those great and exalted personages of the Bible, and have come to his place of worship, in order to rejoice in his pleasant company. Nay, before our very eyes has he spoken to them as a man speaks to his friends, and amidst leaping and dancing has he addressed them familiarly, and loudly toasted their health. Now, they are all assembled in his room where they are discussing certain matters concerning ourselves, such as our final release from bondage, and our return to Zion by the help of the Messiah. Our “Rebbe” will also succeed in subduing the powers of the evil spirit, Samael, along with all the other legions of evil spirits; he will tread him under his feet, and will thus prevent him from doing us any harm.’

“While they were thus addressing each other, and their minds were occupied with the discussion of the ‘Rebbe's’ doings, a boy rushed in breathlessly, and, in the greatest consternation, told all those present that he had just seen the body of the ‘Rebbe’ lying lifeless on the ground in the yard of his house. Thereupon all the Chassidim ran out woe-stricken and terrified, and behold, there, on a heap of refuse, close to the window of the ‘Rebbe's’ room, lay his corpse, the dead body of the great saint. At the sight of which they began weeping and lamenting, and said: ‘Alas, on account of our own sins and transgressions of the law that righteous man had died. The evil spirit Samael has overpowered him, and has thrown him through the window into the yard.’

“But the truth is—thus the soul concludes its narrative—that he had no quarrel with Satan, nor any fight with the rest of the evil spirits. The evil spirit that caused his untimely death was of quite a different nature. It was the spirit he had drunk that had cut short his existence. For, after his heavy potations of the evening, the ‘Rebbe’ felt rather ill. He opened the window of his room, and leant out into the fresh air. No sooner had he done so than he lost his balance, and fell headlong on the stones below. No immediate help being near at hand he soon after expired.”

There are several other passages in Erter's writings which treat the same subject equally humorously, but another short extract from one of the satires, having for its title “Piety and Wisdom,” will suffice. After having pointed out in general terms the great advantages which the calling of a “Rebbe” offers, the author takes the young aspirant into his confidence, and describes its glorious prospects in the following words:—

“When,” says he, “you are a holy man, you will have a greater treasury than the king has, inasmuch as all the gold and silver belonging to your devotees, who may live in your district, will be yours. Any king or ruler of a land, who wishes to levy taxes from his loyal subjects, is obliged to appoint and employ tax-collectors for that purpose, but your adherents will place all their money and wealth at your disposal without your asking for it. Should any one of them fall ill, money will be sent to you to offer up prayers for his recovery. You keep, at any rate, those monetary presents, for if such patients die it will generally be assumed that their death was a punishment for their previous evil doings; but if they are restored again to life and health, then that fact will be attributed to the efficacy of your prayers. The same will be the case when people come to you to obtain your advice in regard to business or matrimonial matters. If they are successful, and everything turns out to be according to their heart's desire, then it is you and your great divine power that have effected all this; but, on the other hand, if your counsel and foretelling lead them astray, they will have to ascribe their failure to their own follies and misdeeds.”

Erter succeeded in infusing a new life and spirit into the Hebrew tongue, which is generally classed among the dead languages. To quote the words that he himself uses on behalf of the genius of the Hebrew language, “I am dead in the mouths of my children, but I live still in their hearts.” Erter did more than only protest against the lack of originality in later Hebrew writers; he himself supplied the deficiency. But he was no mere writer of Hebrew prose. He had the welfare of his Jewish countrymen constantly at heart, and it was with the object of improving their low mental and social position that he wrote those satires, in which their shortcomings and follies were censured and ridiculed. He spared no class; Rabbi and layman alike felt the sting of his scorn, and it was by this means that he really did some good. For some time he also edited, in co-operation with some friends, a Hebrew periodical under the name of He-Chaluz (?????), which continued to appear after his death. This journal was intended to promote the enlightenment and learning of the Jews in Galicia, and gradually to win their sympathies for his favourite project, namely, the establishment of an agricultural colony in his own country, in which Jewish young men should be employed in tilling the ground, and in farming tracts of land on their own account. This healthy and useful occupation, he maintained, would help to decrease, to a great extent, the misery and poverty, which are, even now, the characteristic feature of that particular part of the Austrian empire. And strange to say the very plan, which was drawn up so many years ago by Erter without being carried into effect, has quite recently been taken up again in the capital of Austria by the most influential members of the Jewish community, at the instigation of the late Baron Hirsch.

Erter's writings form but a slender volume, but it may safely be said that they will outlive many a more pretentious work. True humour is a rare possession, and Erter's style will never cease to be a source of delight to those who have a relish for keen satire, and for an elegant and poetical employment of the language of the Bible.

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