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History of the Jews, Vol. 4 (of 6)
The baptized Jews who had abandoned their faith during the terrible persecution of 1391 became a source of considerable trouble to their Spanish brethren. They had embraced the cross only to save their lives, or the lives of those dear to them; for, surely, they had found no convincing demonstration of the truth of the Christian religion in the violence of its missionaries, or in the death agonies of their brethren in race who had perished rather than apostatize. Dazed and broken-hearted, these forced converts (Anusim) to Christianity felt more intense antipathy to their new religion than when they had been openly opposed to it. It was natural for them to resolve to take the first opportunity of casting away their disguise, and returning to Judaism with increased zeal. Many of these new Christians emigrated to the neighboring Moorish countries; to Granada or across the straits to Morocco, Tunis, or Fez, where the people, wiser and more tolerant than Christian Europe, gladly opened their doors to a wealthy and industrious race. The majority, unable to leave Spanish territory, yet averse to wholly discarding their ancient faith, joined in Jewish ceremonies and celebrations whilst outwardly appearing Christians. The kings of Castile, Aragon and Majorca, who had disapproved of conversions by mob violence, allowed the Jews to do as they pleased. The authorities either did not or would not see their relapse into Judaism, and the Inquisition had not yet been established in Spain. These forced converts gradually formed themselves into a peculiar class, outwardly Christians, at heart Jews. By the populace, who nicknamed them Marranos, or "The Damned," they were regarded with more distrust and hatred than the openly observant Jews, not because of their secret fidelity to Judaism, but on account of their descent and inborn intelligence, energy, and skill. Baptized Jews, who had been glad to disencumber themselves of their Judaism, shared in these feelings of aversion. They were the worldlings who valued wealth, rank, and luxury above religion, or the over-educated whose philosophy had led them to skepticism, and whose selfishness induced them to welcome a change which brought them out of the narrow confines of a small community, and opened up a wider world to them. Their hearts had never been with Judaism, and they had adhered to it only out of respect or a certain compunction. To them, forced baptism was a relief from chafing fetters, a welcome coercion to overcome scruples which had always sat lightly upon them. For their own advantage they simulated devotion to Christianity, but were on that account neither better nor more religious men. The unscrupulous among them found special pleasure in the persecution of their former religion and its followers. To gratify their malice, they brought charges against rabbis and other representative Jews, or any member of the community, thus endangering the existence of the whole body of Jews in the country. It was bad enough that the latter had been robbed of so many able and learned men – physicians, authors, poets – and that the church had been enriched by their wealth and intelligence; but these very forces were used to inflict further mischief on the Jews that had remained steadfast. Knowing the faults of their former brethren, the converts could easily attack them. Don Pero Ferrus, a baptized Jew, made the community and rabbis of Alcala the target for his ridicule. In a poem he represents himself exhausted from want of sleep finding repose at last in the synagogue of this town, when suddenly he is disturbed, and scared away without mercy by "Jews with long beards and slovenly garments come thither for early morning prayer." A sharp rejoinder to this effort of Ferrus' "buffoon tongue" was put forth by a Jewish poet in the name of the Alcala community. Spanish poetry reaped considerable advantage from these passages at arms. Verse, up to that period starched, solemn, and stately as the punctilious ceremonial of the Madrid court, in the hands of Judæo-Christian satirists acquired the flexibility, wit and merriment of neo-Hebraic poetry at its best. This tone and style were gradually adopted by Christian poets, who borrowed expressions from Jewish writers to give point to their epigrams. Not only the apostate, the monk, Diego de Valencia, used Hebrew words in lampoons on the Jews, but the same practice was adopted with surprising dexterity by the Christian satirist, Alfonso Alvarez de Villasandino, the "poet prince" of his day. A malicious critic might have been inclined to say that Spanish poetry was in process of being Judaized.
A few of the new-Christians showed as active a zeal in the propagation of Christianity as if they had been born Dominicans, or as if they felt isolated in their new faith among the old Christians, and yearned for the companionship of their former friends. A newly-baptized physician, Astruc Raimuch, of Fraga, who, as a Jew, had been a pillar of orthodoxy, exerted himself to make converts, taking to himself the name of Francisco God-flesh (Dios-Carne). He spread his snares particularly with a view to entrapping one of his young friends. A fluent writer of Hebrew, Astruc-Francisco drew up a letter in that language, dwelling on the decline of Judaism and enthusiastically propounding the dogmas of Christianity. His applications of Biblical texts to the doctrines of the Trinity, Original Sin, Redemption, and the Lord's Supper, appear almost droll in Hebrew. His friend's answer was meek and evasive, every word carefully weighed to avoid offending the delicate sensibilities of the church and its zealous servants. More spirited was the reply of the satirical poet, Solomon ben Reuben Bonfed, who in rhymed prose set himself to confute Astruc-Francisco's arguments with unsparing incisiveness. Apologizing in his introduction for interfering between two friends, he proceeded to point out that as a Jew the questions discussed concerned him nearly, whilst the misstatements made rendered it impossible for him to remain silent. Solomon Bonfed examined somewhat minutely the dogmas of the Incarnation, Original Sin, and Transubstantiation, showing them to be irrational and untenable. He justly said: "You twist and distort the Bible text to establish the Trinity. Had you a Quaternity, you would demonstrate it quite as strikingly and convincingly from the books of the Old Testament."
Of all the Jews baptized in 1391, however, none inflicted so much injury on his former brethren as Rabbi Solomon Levi of Burgos (born 1351–1352, died 1435), who as a Christian rose to very important ecclesiastical and political dignities under the name of Paul Burgensis, or de Santa Maria. Previous to his change of creed he had been a rabbi, and he was well versed in Biblical, Talmudical, and Rabbinical literature. As a Jew he was extremely orthodox and punctilious, passing in his own circle for a pillar of the faith. His nature was, however, shrewd and calculating. Ambitious and vain to the last degree, he soon began to regard as too narrow his sphere of action within the walls of the college, which during a long period counted him amongst its students and teachers. He longed for a life of bustling activity. To obtain a state appointment, he sought access to court, and began to live like a grandee, with equipage and horses and numerous retinue. It was his ambition to become a Jewish Almoxarif or even to obtain a higher appointment. His occupations bringing him into daily contact with Christians, and frequently involving him in religious controversies, he devoted some attention to church literature, in order to be able to make a display of learning. The massacres of 1391 dissipated his last hope of obtaining high preferment as a Jew, and he consequently resolved, in his fortieth year, to be baptized. To derive the best advantage from his conversion, the new Christian, Paul de Santa Maria, caused it to be understood that he had embraced Christianity willingly, as a result of the convincing arguments put forth in the theological writings of the schoolman Thomas Aquinas. The Jews received such protestations with distrust. Knowing him well, they did not scruple to ascribe his conversion to a craving for rank and power. After his change of creed, his family, wife and sons, renounced him.
For a commoner, the only road to high office lay through the church. Solomon-Paul knew this well, and at once proceeded to Paris and attended the University, where he pursued theology. His knowledge of Hebrew gave him a great advantage, and helped him to distinguish himself. It was not long before the quondam rabbi became a duly ordained Catholic priest. Then he betook himself to the papal court at Avignon, where the haughty, obstinate, and proselytizing cardinal, Pedro de Luna, reigned as anti-pope under the title of Benedict XIII. Here, during the stormy church schism, favorable opportunities for intrigue and personal advancement presented themselves. Paul won the pope's favor by his shrewdness, zeal, and eloquence. He was appointed archdeacon of Trevinjo and canon of Seville, his first steps on the ladder of the Catholic hierarchy. He abandoned himself to the most ambitious dreams: he might become a bishop, a cardinal, and why not the pope? The times were propitious. He boasted that he was descended from the most ancient and the noblest branch of the Hebrew race, the tribe of Levi, the same that had given birth to Mary, the mother of Jesus. He was not an ordinary priest sprung from the people, but had ancestors bound to be acknowledged and distinguished by the church. On the recommendation of the pope, he was later on overwhelmed with honors and favors by the king of Castile, Don Henry III, and his ambition was satisfied.
The apostasy of so respected a rabbi as Solomon Burgensis not only created the greatest astonishment among Jews, but filled them with anxiety. Would this example not find imitators in a time of so much trouble and temptation? Would it not bias waverers, or at least encourage pretending Christians to persevere in the course begun? The prevailing disquietude was increased when it was found that after his own conversion Paul considered it his duty to convert his former co-religionists. To this end he left no stone unturned. With voice and pen he assailed Judaism, seeking his weapons in Jewish literature itself. Not long after his conversion he addressed a letter to his former acquaintance, Joseph (José) Orabuena, physician in ordinary to King Charles III of Navarre, and chief rabbi of the Navarrese communities, in which he stated that he acknowledged and honored Jesus as the Messiah whose advent had been foretold by the prophets, and invited Orabuena to follow his example. To another chief rabbi, Don Meïr Alguades, physician in ordinary to the Castilian king, Don Henry III, Paul de Santa Maria addressed a Hebrew satire in prose and verse, in which he ridiculed the innocent celebration of the Jewish feast of Purim. As if grudging the Jews the moderate pleasures in which they indulged during this festival, he exaggerated their love of drink, and boasted of his own sobriety. Paul evinces in this satire considerable skill in handling the new-Hebrew language, but, notwithstanding his opportunities, he exhibits little wit.
As soon as he had acquired a position at the papal court at Avignon, he devoted himself to calumniating the Jews with a view to bringing about new persecutions. His purpose became so obvious that the cardinal of Pampeluna himself, and other ecclesiastics, ordered him to desist. It is true the Jews had to pay dearly for his silence. He also intrigued against Chasdaï Crescas. So far did this apostate carry his enmity to Judaism that he advised the king, Don Henry III, to abstain from employing both Jews and new-Christians in state offices. Did he wish to render impossible the rivalry of some fellow-Hebrew, his superior in adroitness? In his writings Paul de Santa Maria exhibited as much hatred of Judaism as of Jews. While the Franciscan monk, Nicholas de Lyra, a born Christian, held up the works of Jewish commentators like Rashi as models of simple exegesis, the former rabbi found every observation of a Rabbinical writer insipid, nonsensical, and scandalous. On the other hand, the most ridiculous commentary of a church writer was to him a lofty, unsurpassable work.
Thoughtful Jews were not slow to recognize their bitterest foe in this new-Christian, and they prepared for a severe struggle with him, notwithstanding that their choice of weapons was limited. Christians were not only free to say what they pleased in demonstration and defense of their doctrines, but could appeal to the summary authority of the sword and the dungeon. Jews were forced to all kinds of circumlocution and ambiguity to avoid provoking the violence of their adversaries. The gallant stand of a mere handful of Jews against power and arrogance should excite the admiration of all whose sympathies are not with victorious tyranny, but with struggling right.
The campaign against Paul de Santa Maria was opened by a young man, Joshua ben Joseph Ibn-Vives of Lorca (Allorqui), a physician and an Arabic scholar, who had formerly sat at the feet of the renegade rabbi. In an humble epistle, as though a docile pupil were addressing an illustrious master, Joshua Allorqui administered many a delicate reproof to his apostate teacher, and at the same time, by his naïve doubts, dealt destructive blows at the fundamental doctrines of Christianity. He observes in his introduction that the conversion of his beloved teacher had to him more than to others been a source of astonishment and reflection, as his example had been a main support of his own religious belief. He was at a loss to conceive the motives of the sudden change. He could not think that he had been led away by desire for worldly distinction, "for I well remember," he says, "how, surrounded by riches and attendants, thou didst yearn for thy former humble state with its life of retirement and study, and how it was thy wont to speak of thy high position as empty mockery of happiness." Nor could he suppose that Paul's Jewish convictions had been disturbed by philosophic doubt, as up to the moment of his baptism he had conscientiously observed all the ceremonial laws, and had known how to discriminate between the kernel of philosophic truth which harmonizes with religion and the pernicious shell which so often passes for the real teaching. Could it be that the sanguinary persecution of the Jews had led him to doubt the possibility of the enduring power of Judaism? But even this theory was untenable, for Paul could not be unaware of the fact that only a minority of Jews live under Christian rule, that the larger numbers sojourn in Asia, and enjoy a certain degree of independence; so that if it pleased God to allow the communities in Christian lands to be extirpated, the Jewish race would not by any means disappear from the face of the earth. There remained, continued Joshua Vives of Lorca, the assumption that Paul had carefully studied Christianity, and had come to the conclusion that its dogmas were well founded. He begged him, therefore, to impart to him the convictions at which he had arrived, and thus dissipate the doubts which he (Joshua) still entertained as to the truth of Christianity. Allorqui then detailed the nature of his doubts, covertly but forcibly attacking the Christian system. Every sentence in this epistle was calculated to cut the Jew-hating new-Christian to the quick. The evasive and embarrassed reply, which Paul indited later on, clearly indicated how he had winced under this attack.
The philosopher, Chasdaï Crescas, also came forward in gallant defense of the religion of his fathers. He composed (1396) a polemical treatise (Tratado), in which he tested philosophically the Christian articles of faith, and demonstrated their untenableness. This work was addressed to Christians more than to Jews, and was particularly intended for the perusal of Spaniards of high rank whose friendship Chasdaï Crescas enjoyed. Hence it was written not in Hebrew but in Spanish, which the author employed with ease, and its tone was calm and moderate. Chasdaï Crescas set forth the unintelligibility of the doctrines of the Fall, the Redemption, the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Immaculate Conception, and Transubstantiation, and examined the value of baptism, the coming of Jesus, and the relation of the New Testament to the Old, with dispassionate deliberation, as if he did not know that he was dealing with questions which might at any moment light the fires of an auto-da-fé.
At about the same time an accomplished Marrano, who had relapsed into Judaism, published a pungent attack on Christianity and the new-Christians. In the entire history of Judæo-Christian controversy no such stinging satire had been produced on the Jewish side as that now issued by the physician, astronomer, historical student, and grammarian Profiat Duran. During the bloody persecution of 1391 in Catalonia, Profiat Duran, otherwise Isaac ben Moses, or, as he called himself in his works, Efodi (Ephodæus), had been forced to simulate conversion to Christianity. He was joined by his friend David Bonet Buen-Giorno. Both resolved at a convenient opportunity to abandon their hated mask and emigrate to Palestine, where they could freely acknowledge Judaism. Their affairs being arranged, Profiat Duran traveled to a seaport town in the south of France, and there awaited his friend. The latter, in the meantime, was sought out by or came across the Jew-hating apostate, Solomon Paul de Santa Maria, and was prevailed upon to remain a Christian. What was Profiat Duran's astonishment when he received a letter announcing, with much exultant vaporing, the definite acknowledgment of Christianity by En Bonet, who exhorted him also to remain in the pale of his adopted faith. The letter contained an enthusiastic panegyric of Paul de Santa Maria, who had been taken into the favor of the king of Castile. Profiat Duran could not remain silent. In reply, he inflicted punishment on his friend, and more particularly on the proselytizing Paul, in an epistle characterized by the keenest irony, which has not yet lost its sting. It pretends to assent to everything advanced by Bonet, and to confirm him in his resolve to remain a Christian. "Be not ye like your fathers" (Altehi ka-Abothecha) is the refrain throughout, and so artfully is this admonition employed that Christians used it (under the title Alteca Boteca) as an apology for Christianity. Whilst thus pretending to criticise the errors of the older faith, Profiat Duran dwells on the Christian dogmas, naïvely describing them in their most reprehensible form. He concentrates on the weaknesses of Christianity the full light of reason, Scriptural teaching and philosophic deduction, apparently with no desire to change his friend's intention. A portion of the satire is directed against the Jew-hater Paul de Santa Maria, upon whom Bonet had bestowed unstinted praise. "Thou art of opinion that he may succeed in becoming pope, but thou dost not inform me whether he will go to Rome, or remain at Avignon" – a cutting reference to the papal schism distracting the church. "Thou extollest him for having made efforts to free Jewish women and children from the obligation of wearing the Jew badge. Take the glad tidings to the women and children. For myself, I have been told that he preached mischief against the Jews, and that the cardinal of Pampeluna was compelled to order him to be silent. Thou art of opinion that he, thy teacher, will soon receive the miter or a cardinal's hat. Rejoice, for then thou also must acquire honors, and wilt become a priest or a Levite." Towards the end Profiat Duran changes irony into a tone of seriousness: he prays his former friend not to bear as a Christian the name of his respected father who, had he been alive, would sooner have had no son than one faithless to his religion. As it is, his soul in Paradise will bewail the faithlessness of his son. This satirical epistle was circulated as a pamphlet. Its author sent copies not only to his former friend, but also to the physician of the king of Castile, the chief rabbi, Don Meïr Alguades. So telling was the effect produced, that the clergy, as soon as they discovered its satirical character, made it the subject of judicial inquiry, and committed it to the flames. At the request of Chasdaï Crescas, Profiat Duran wrote another anti-Christian work, not, however, a satire, but in the grave language of historical investigation. In this essay he showed, from his intimate acquaintance with the New Testament and the literature of the church, how in course of time Christianity had degenerated.
Favored and promoted by the anti-pope, Benedict XIII, of Avignon, Paul of Burgos rose higher and higher; he became bishop of Carthagena, chancellor of Castile and privy counselor to the king, Don Henry III. His malice did not succeed in prejudicing the king against the Jews, or inducing him to bar them from state employment. Don Henry had two Jewish physicians, in whom he reposed especial confidence. One, Don Meïr Alguades, an astronomer and philosopher, he appointed, perhaps in imitation of Portugal, to the chief rabbinate of the various Castilian communities. He was always in the king's train, and it is probable that to some extent he influenced him favorably towards his co-religionists. The other was Don Moses Zarzel (Çarçal), who celebrated in rich Spanish verse the long wished for birth of an heir to the Castilian throne, borrowing the beauties of the neo-Hebraic poetry to do honor to the newly-born prince, in whose hands, he prophesied, the various states of the Pyrenean Peninsula would be united. The calm, as between two storms, which the Spanish Jews enjoyed during the reign of Don Henry was favorable to the production of a few literary fruits, almost the last of any importance brought forth in Spain. None of these works was epoch-making; they were useful, however, in keeping alive the spirit of better times, and in preventing the treasures of Jewish literature from being forgotten. Profiat Duran managed to make people forget his baptism and to settle down quietly in Spain or Perpignan, where he commentated Maimuni's philosophy, and some of Ibn-Ezra's works. He also composed a mathematical and calendarial essay (Chesheb-Efod) and an historical account of the persecutions to which his race had been subjected since the dispersion. His best work is a Hebrew grammar ("Maasé Efod," written about 1403), in which he summarizes the results of older writers, rectifies their errors, and even attempts to formulate the principles of Hebrew syntax.
A production of more than common merit was written by Chasdaï Crescas, now on the brink of the grave, his spirits shattered by persecution. He was a profound, comprehensive thinker, whose mind never lost itself in details, but was forever striving to comprehend the totality of things. His scheme for a work treating, in the manner of Maimuni, of all phases and aspects of Judaism, investigating the ideas and laws out of which Jewish teaching had gradually developed, and reharmonizing the details with the whole where the connection had ceased to be apparent, bears witness to the extraordinary range of his learning and the perspicacity of his mind. The work was to be at once a guide to Talmudical study and a practical handbook. Death appears to have prevented the accomplishment of this gigantic enterprise, only the philosophic portion, or introduction, being completed. In this introduction Chasdaï Crescas deals, on the one hand, with the principles of universal religion, the existence of God, His omniscience and providence, human free-will, the design of the universe, and, on the other, with the fundamental truths of Judaism, the doctrines of the creation, immortality, and the Messiah.
Crescas was less dominated by the Aristotelian bias of mediæval philosophy than his predecessors. It had lost its halo for him; he perceived its weaknesses more clearly than others, and probed them more deeply. With bold hands he tore down the supports of the vast edifice of theory constructed by Maimuni on Aristotelian grounds to demonstrate the existence of God and His relation to the universe, and, conversant with the whole method of scholastic philosophy, he combated it with destructive force.
While the philosophy of his day appeared to him thus vague and illusory, he considered the foundations of Judaism unassailable, and set himself to show the futility of the criticisms of the former. The acknowledgment of Divine omniscience led him to the daring statement that man in his actions is not quite free, that everything is the necessary result of a preceding occurrence, and that every cause, back to the very first, is bound to determine the character of the final action. The human will does not follow blind choice, but is controlled by a chain of antecedent circumstances and causes. To what extent can the doctrine of reward and punishment be admitted, if the will is not free? Chasdaï Crescas' answer to this is that reward and punishment wait on intentions, not on actions. He who, in purity of heart, wishes to accomplish good – which must, of course, necessarily follow – deserves to be rewarded, as the man who willingly promotes evil, deserves punishment. The highest good to which man can aspire, and the end of all creation, is spiritual perfection, or bliss everlasting, not to be obtained, as the philosophers imagine, by filling the mind with metaphysical theories, but only through the active love of God. This is the substance of all religion and particularly of Judaism. From this point of view it may with justice be said that "the world was created for the sake of the Torah," for the aim of the Law is to lead to immortality by means of ideas and commandments and the guidance of thoughts and actions.