No one has characterized the Jews better than did Mohammed when he called the Jews The People of the Book. In fact, nearly all that the Jews have achieved during their existence as a people they have achieved in the domain of literature. Even at the time when the Jews lived in Palestine and were at the height of their power, their achievements in the field of practical civilization were relatively poor. When the Jews disappeared as a sovereign nation from among the nations of the earth they did not leave behind them a highly developed civilization as did ancient Rome, nor did they leave behind them a highly developed science and art, as did the Greeks, but they did leave a book that subsequently became the book of humanity. The economic structure of ancient Judea was primitive, and only the tribes living on the borderland and communicating with the peoples across the border succeeded in developing trade and commerce. The interior of Judea was an agricultural country and its inhabitants pious and simple-minded people without ambition to create values of civilization and without pretence. Just as the economic structure of ancient Judea was primitive and simple, so was the political fabric.

The ancient Jewish state never succeeded in entirely subduing the individual and making him respect the supreme authority of the State. The prophets repeatedly exhorted the people to abide by the law and to respect the authority of the State. This would go to indicate that, even in the best days ancient Judea has seen, individualism was supreme and the authority of the State thus considerably weakened. We have no record of the ancient Jews ever having built great roads, or ever having been a great seafaring nation, or having done other things that would testify to their creative genius in the field of civilization.

But, on the other hand, they have created great books and have always been active in the field of literature, as have no other people on earth. It may be that their literary genius and activity absorbed all their energies, so that the literary values they created were created at the expense of the creation of values of civilization. From time immemorial to the present day, the Jews, first as a nation and then as individuals, have been busily engaged in writing books, and, besides the Bible—that became the book of humanity and that has influenced the mind of humanity more than any other book in world literature—they have written a number of books at various times and in various languages which had a striking effect on the human mind and were instrumental in shaping and framing it.

The appearance of Philo of Alexandria puzzled and amazed the entire ancient world. The Greeks themselves considered him a wonder and expressed their admiration for him by saying that they did not know whether Plato Philonized or Philo Platonized. How Philo's writings have influenced the course of spiritual development in Europe and how they contributed shape and form to the philosophy of Christianity is known to everyone who is acquainted with the history of the European mind. Christian authors have often asserted that part of the success of St. Paul is to be ascribed to his literary genius, his striking style and to the concise form of his literary expression. And how can we think of Christianity without Philo and St. Paul, though the former did not consciously contribute anything to the makeup of Christianity?

When, during the chaos following the disintegration of the Roman Empire, the Jews disappeared from the arena of European literature, the best Jewish minds were busy creating books and literary styles, which remain unique to the present day. We refer to the Talmud and Midrash or, to be more precise, to Halakhah and Hagadah. The day will come when European scholarship will pay more attention to these two marvelous books. A famous German scholar, Professor Strack, declared a few years ago that "for the last four hundred years the European peoples have studied the Bible and have worked very hard to understand it. Now, since we are better acquainted with the Bible, we will have to take up the study of the Talmud and the Midrash. Only then will we understand Judaism." Whatever place the Talmud may hold in the history of law and no matter how it is valued by great jurists, it is certainly unique in its literary style. The Talmudic style may or may not be a beautiful one, but it is certainly peculiar, striking and original to the core. Literature is first of all style; what is true of the originality of the Talmudic style is also true of the strikingly original style of the Midrash.

At the time when the style of these two books was created the greatest representative of European literature of that period, St. Augustine, appeared and gave to Christian humanity the best book of its time, the Confessiones. The Confessiones is a striking book powerfully written. Its style is both soft and forceful; because of that it became one of the best books of the Church. Wherein, however, lies the secret of that book? What made it a success? It is the attempt to imitate the Bible, just as Nietzsche's Zarathustra took up the style of the Bible and became the best-known book of the nineteenth century. But how does St. Augustine's Confessiones compare with the Bible? In certain places it is an artificial imitation of the Bible, pure and simple, or, to be more accurate, a poor imitation of the Psalms; only very rarely does Augustine reach the height of the true Biblical style. Because St. Augustine succeeded in imitating the style of the book which we created he became the literary master-mind of Europe of his time. The entire literature of confessions from Augustine to Rousseau and from Rousseau to Tolstoy has its inspiration in the Bible; as long as humanity will produce poets who think in terms of eternity and who feel at one with the cosmos they will have to fall back on the Bible, as did Dante and Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe and Nietzsche.

Just as our national book, the Bible, became the inexhaustible source of inspiration to the great representatives of world literature, just so have many books written by Jews within the last five hundred years influenced and affected the European mind. The books of Spinoza in the seventeenth, of Mendelssohn in the eighteenth, of Heinrich Heine and Karl Marx in the nineteenth and those of Bergson in the twentieth century were all cornerstones in the realm of the literature of modern times. Only recently has attention been called by the admirers of Spinoza to the exquisite and truly artistic style of the lonely Jew of Amsterdam. Mendelssohn was certainly not a first-rate philosopher, but he is considered by his admirers and opponents alike a first-rate writer and literary master-mind; next to Lessing he was the greatest German stylist of his time.

The deep impression that Karl Marx made on his contemporaries we understand less by reading his minor writings. As an economist of genius he could appeal to a small community of scholars, but as a literary man of rare qualities, as a powerful writer who wrote with blood and venom, he succeeded in greatly infuriating his opponents and enthusing his adherents.

Heine has been called by Nietzsche the wonder of world literature. The conservative Germans, the Prussians especially, hate him thoroughly, but they cannot help singing his "Lorelei" and "Die zwei Grenadiere" when they feel truly German or truly patriotic. This DÜsseldorf Jew, who received a convent education and who, according to his own testimony, did not master the German language before he was sixteen, became the lyrical poet of the German nation and discovered the tune of the German soul.

Five decades after Heine's death there appears a Polish Jew in the firmament of French literature who acquires for himself the name of the maÎtre Écrivain. The French, with their great literary and artistic traditions and with their own exquisite literary taste, are not so hasty in bestowing upon one of their writers the honor of the title of maÎtre Écrivain. But they lost no time in giving that honor to the Polish Jew, Bergson. Educated Frenchmen agree that even if all the philosophic teachings of Bergson should prove to be false or should be refuted he would nevertheless remain a great figure in the gallery of French literature. He may die as a philosopher, but he will remain immortal as a litterateur.

We have mentioned only the principal great books written within the last three hundred years, which have caused true revolutions in the literary world and for which most other peoples have no match. If an historian of literature were to study the subject of the influence of the Jews on world literature, especially of modern times, he would have to write not one, but five volumes, and even then he would not exhaust the subject, not because of the multitude of the books the Jews have written, but because of the creative values of these books and of the influence exercised on their contemporaries. It is a remarkable fact that the best piece of German literary eloquence was written by a Jew, Ludwig Boerne, and every German schoolboy has to know his piece of eloquence, "Denkrede ueber Jean Paul," by heart. Of Israel Zangwill the English say that he comes nearest to Dickens. Hugo von Hoffmannsthal, the offspring of a Galician Jew and a relative of the late Graf von Aehrenthal, today holds such a unique position in German literature that even the wildest anti-Semites do not dare to attack him. The French Academy has recognized another German Jew, Ludwig Fulda, as the best German metrician of his time. And there are such powerful publicists as Maximilian Harden and Max Nordau, such men as Wasserman and Schnitzler, who have contributed to the literary glory of the Jewish people in recent times.

The Aryan peoples will seldom concede that the Jews are one of the most capable literary peoples that have ever lived, but there are many signs that would go to indicate that they are fully conscious of it. The French never forget to mention the fact that the mothers of Rabelais and Montaigne were Jewesses and there is a German folksong that begins with the verse:

The humorous papers in Italy, when taking Luigi Luzzatti to task, are always cartooning him as a little Jew buried in books, and it is a current expression in Italy today that "he eats books like Luzzatti."

A Jew and a book are nearly synonymous. We were and we are to the present day a bookish people. The book has been until now our greatest glory. For thousands of years we have been dreamers and writers. The book was our shield and our weapon and the only outlet for our energies. Now it seems that a great and radical change is going to take place in our lives. We may and will probably never abandon the book altogether, but we are on the verge of becoming an active people, instead of being solely a bookish people.