Now that we have formulated our grievance against Rashi, it is fair that we try to justify him by recalling the ideas prevailing at the time, and the needs he wished to satisfy.

The Midrashim, as I have said, have a double object, on the one hand, the exposition of legal and religious practices, on the other hand, the exposition of the beliefs and hopes of religion. So far as the Halakic Midrash is concerned, it was marvellously [marvelously sic] well adapted to the French-Jewish intellect, penetrated as it was by Talmudism. The study of the Talmud so completely filled the lives of the Jews that it was difficult to break away from the rabbinical method. Rashi did not see in the Bible a literary or philosophic masterpiece. Nor did he study it with the unprejudiced eyes of the scholar. He devoted himself to this study-especially of the Pentateuch-with only the one aim in view, that of finding the origin or the explanation of civil and ritual laws, the basis or the indication of Talmudic precepts. Sometimes he kicked against the pricks. When convinced that the rabbinical explanation did not agree with a sane exegesis, he would place himself at variance with the Talmud for the sake of a rational interpretation. What more than this can be expected? Nor need we think of him as the unwilling prisoner of rules and a victim of their tyranny. On the contrary, he adapted himself to them perfectly, and believed that the Midrash could be made to conform to its meaning without violence to the text. That he always had reason to believe so was denied by so early a successor as his grandson Samuel ben Meir. Samuel insisted that one stand face to face with the Scriptures and interpret them without paying heed and having recourse to any other work. This effort at intellectual independence in which the grandson nearly always succeeded, the grandfather was often incapable of making. In commenting upon the Talmud Rashi preserved his entire liberty, unrestrained by the weight of any absolute authority; but in commenting on the Bible he felt himself bound by the Talmud and the Midrash. Especially in regard to the Pentateuch, the Talmudic interpretation was unavoidable, because the Pentateuch either explicitly or implicitly contains all legal prescriptions. In point of fact, in leaving the Pentateuch and proceeding to other parts of the Bible, he gains in force because he gains in independence. He no longer fears to confront "our sages" with the true explanation. For example, there is little Derash in the following commentary on Psalm xxiii:

A Psalm of David]. Our rabbis say: The formula "Psalm of David" indicates that David at first played the instrument, then was favored by Divine inspiration. It, therefore, signifies, Psalm to give inspiration to David. On the other hand, when it is said "To David, a Psalm,"[85] the formula indicates that David, having received Divine inspiration, sang a song in consequence of the revelation.

1. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want]. In this desert in which I wander I am full of trust, sure that I shall lack nothing.

2. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures]. In a place to dwell where grass grows. The poet, having begun by comparing his sustenance to the pasturing of animals, in the words, "The Lord Is my Shepherd," continues the image. This Psalm was recited by David in the forest of Hereth, which was so called because it was arid as clay (heres), but it was watered by God with all the delights of the next world (Midrash on the Psalms).

3. He will restore my soul]. My soul, benumbed by misfortunes and by my flight, He will restore to its former estate. He will lead me in the paths of righteousness] along the straight highway so that I may not fall into the hands of my enemies.

4. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil]. In the country of shadows this applies to the wilderness of Ziph.[86] The word tzalmavet (Tsadi Lamed Mem Vov Tav) here employed always signifies "utter darkness"[87]; this is the way in which it is explained by Dunash ben Labrat[88]. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me]. The sufferings I have undergone and my reliance, my trust, in Thy goodness are my two consolations, for they bring me pardon for my faults, and I am sure that

5. Thou wilt prepare a table before me], that is, royalty. Thou hast anointed my head with oil]. I have already been consecrated king at Thy command. My cup runneth over]. An expression signifying abundance.

From this commentary one realizes, I do not say the perfection, but the simplicity, Rashi could attain when he was not obliged to discover in Scriptures allusions to laws or to beliefs foreign to the text. As Mendelssohn said of him, "No one is comparable with him when he writes Peshat." Even though Rashi gave too much space to the legal exegesis of the Talmud, Mendelssohn's example will make us more tolerant toward him - Mendelssohn who himself could not always steer clear of this method.

Moreover, the commentary on the Bible is not exactly a scholarly work; it is above all a devotional work, written, as the Germans say, fur Schule und Haus, for the school and the family. The masses, to whom Rashi addressed himself, were not so cultivated that he could confine himself to a purely grammatical exposition or to bare exegesis. He had to introduce fascinating legends, subtle deductions, ingenious comparisons. The Bible was studied, not so much for its own sake, as for the fact that it was the text-book of morality, the foundation of belief, the source of all hopes. Every thought, every feeling bore an intimate relation to Scriptures. The Midrash exercised an irresistible attraction upon simple, deeply devout souls. It appealed to the heart as well as to the intelligence, and in vivid, attractive form set forth religious and moral truths. Granted that success justifies everything, then the very method with which we reproach Rashi explains the fact that he has had, and continues to have, thousands of readers. The progress of scientific exegesis has made us aware of what we would now consider a serious mistake in method. We readily understand why Derash plays so important a role in Rashi's commentaries, and to what requirements he responded; but that does not make us any more content with his method. To turn from Rashi to a more general consideration of the Midrashic exegesis, we also understand its long continuance, though we do not deprecate it less, because it is unscientific and irrational.

In spite of all, however, the use of the Derash must be considered a virtue in Rashi. Writing before the author of the Yalkut Shimeoni,[89] he revealed to his contemporaries, among whom not only the masses are to be included, but, owing to the rarity of books, scholars as well, a vast number of legends and traditions, which have entered into the very being of the people, and have been adopted as their own. Rashi not only popularized numerous Midrashim, but he also preserved a number the sources of which are no longer extant, and which without him would be unknown. This Biblical commentary is thus the store- house of Midrashic literature, the aftermath of that luxuriant growth whose latest products ripened in the eighth, ninth, and even tenth centuries.

It is hardly proper, then, to be unduly severe in our judgment of Rashi's work. In fact, why insist on his faults, since he himself recognized the imperfections of his work, and would have bettered them if he had had the time? The testimony of his grandson upon this point is explicit:

"The friends of reason," said Samuel ben Meir, "should steep themselves in this principle of our sages, that natural exegesis can never be superseded. It is true that the chief aim of the Torah was to outline for us rules of religious conduct, which we discover behind the literal meaning through Haggadic and Halakic interpretation. And the ancients, moved by their piety, occupied themselves only with Midrashic exegesis as being the most important, and they failed to dwell at great length upon the literal meaning. Add to this the fact that the scholars advise us not to philosophize too much upon the Scriptures. And R. Solomon, my maternal grandfather, the Torch of the Captivity, who commented on the Law, the Prophets, and the Hagiographa, devoted himself to the development of the natural meaning of the text; and I, Samuel son of Meir, discussed his explanations with him and before him, and he confessed to me that if he had had the leisure, he would have deemed it necessary to do his work all over again by availing himself of the explanations that suggest themselves day after day."[90]

It seems, therefore, that Rashi only gradually, as the result of experience and discussion, attained to a full consciousness of the requirements of a sound exegesis and the duties of a Biblical commentator. What the grandfather had not been able to do was accomplished by the grandson. The commentary of Samuel ben Meir realized Rashi's resolutions. Though Rashi may not have been irreproachable as a commentator, he at least pointed out the way, and his successors, enlightened by his example, could elaborate his method and surpass it, but only with the means with which he provided them. We must take into account that he was almost an originator, and we readily overlook many faults and flaws in remembering that he was the first to prepare the material.

* * * * *

Grammar and lexicography are the two bases of exegesis. Rashi was as clever a grammarian as was possible in his time and in his country. At all events he was not of the same opinion as the Pope, who rebuked the Archbishop of Vienna for having taught grammar in his schools, because, he said, it seemed to him rules of grammar were not worthy the Sacred Text, and it was unfitting to subject the language of Holy Scriptures to these rules. Rashi in his explanations pays regard to the laws of language, and in both his Talmudic and Biblical commentaries, he frequently formulates scientific laws, or, it might be said, empiric rules, regarding, for instance, distinctions in the usage of words indicated by the position of the accent, different meanings of the same particle, certain vowel changes, and so on. Thus, we have been able to construct a grammar of Rashi, somewhat rudimentary, but very advanced for the time.

Nevertheless, in this regard, a wide gap separates the commentaries of Rashi and the works of the Spanish school of exegetes, which shone with such lustre [luster sic] in that epoch. Under the influence and stimulus of the Arabs, scientific studies took an upward flight among the Jews of Moslem Spain. The Midrash was abandoned to the preachers, while the scholars cultivated the Hebrew language and literature with fruitful results. In France, on the contrary, though rabbinical studies were already flourishing, the same is not true of philological studies, which were introduced into France only through the influence of the Spaniards. French scholars soon came to know the works, written in Hebrew, of Menahem ben Saruk and Dunash ben Labrat,[91] and Rashi availed himself of them frequently, and not always uncritically. Thus, like them, he distinguishes triliteral, biliteral, and even uniliteral roots; but contrary to them, he maintains that contracted and quiescent verbs are triliteral and not biliteral. Unfortunately, he could have no knowledge of the more important works of Hayyoudj, "father of grammarians," and of Ibn Djanah, who carried the study of Hebrew to a perfection surpassed only by the moderns;[92] for these works were written in Arabic, and the translations into Hebrew, made by the scholars of Southern France, did not appear until the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Though the Spanish Jews did not yet cultivate the allegoric and mystic exegesis, their philosophic sense was rather refined and they did not always approach the study of the Bible without seeking something not clearly expressed in the text, without arriere-pensee so to speak. Rashi's exegesis was more ingenuous and, therefore, more objective.

Moreover, even if Rashi was not in complete possession of grammatical rules, he had perfectly mastered the spirit of the Hebrew language. Like the Spaniards, he had that very fine understanding for the genius of the language which arises from persevering study, from constant occupation with its literature. We have cited the sources upon which he drew; it would be unjust not to remark that he made original investigations. For example (and the examples might be multiplied) apropos of a difficult passage in Ezekiel, he asserted that he had drawn the explanation from inner stores, and had been guided only by Divine inspiration - a formula borrowed from the Geonim. He was frequently consulted in regard to the meaning of Biblical passages, and one response has been preserved, that given to the scholars of Auxerre when they asked for an explanation of several chapters of the Prophets. This fact shows that the Jews gave themselves up with ardor to the study of the Bible, men of education making it their duty to copy the Bible with the most scrupulous care and according to the best models, to the number of which they thus made additions. Among these copies are the ones made by Gershom, by Joseph Tob Elem, and by Menahem of Joigny. The Jews were almost the only persons versed in the Bible. I have mentioned how much the Church feared the sight of the Bible in the hands of the common people, and in clerical circles an absolutely antiscientific spirit reigned in regard to these matters. It was the triumph of symbolism, allegory, and docetism. All the less likely, then, were they to know Hebrew. An exception was the monk Sigebert de Gemblours, a teacher at Metz in the last quarter of the eleventh century, who maintained relations with Jewish scholars. He is said to have known Hebrew.

Rashi's thorough knowledge of Hebrew enabled him to depend upon his memory for quoting the appropriate verses, and in all his citations there is scarcely a mistake, natural though an error would have been in quoting from memory. Distinguishing between the Hebrew of the Bible and that of the Talmud, he sees in the Hebrew of the Mishnah a transition between the two. Often, for the purpose of explaining a word in the Bible, he has recourse to Talmudic Hebrew or to the Aramaic. He pays careful attention to the precise meaning of words and to distinctions among synonyms, and he had perception for delicate shading in syntax and vocabulary. Owing to this thorough knowledge of Hebrew he readily obtained insight into the true sense of the text. By subjecting the thought of the Holy Scriptures to a simple and entirely rational examination, he not seldom succeeds in determining it. Thus, as it were by divination, he lighted upon the meaning of numerous Biblical passages. A long list might be made of explanations misunderstood by his successors, and revived, consciously or unconsciously, by modern exegetes. An illustration in point is his explanation of the first verse of Genesis, quoted above. Long before such Biblical criticism had become current it was he who said that the "servant of God" mentioned in certain chapters of the second part of Isaiah represents the people of Israel.

Needless to say Rashi never tampers with the text. At most, as is the case with Ibn Djanah, he says that a letter is missing or is superfluous. Sometimes, too, he changes the order of the words. Neither copyists' mistakes nor grammatical anomalies existed for him. Yet he believed in all sincerity that the ancient sages could have corrected certain Biblical texts to remove from them a meaning startling or derogatory when applied to the Divinity.

Rashi wholly ignored what modern criticism calls the Introduction to the Scriptures, that is to say, the study of the Bible and the books of which it is composed from the point of view of their origin, their value, and the changes they have undergone. But rarely, here and there in his commentaries, does one find any references to the formation of the canon. To give an example showing how he justified a classification of the Hagiographa given by a Talmudic text and disagreeing with the present classification: Ruth comes first, because it belongs to the period of the Judges; Job follows, because he lived at the time of the Queen of Sheba; then come the three books of Solomon, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, both gnomic works, and the Song of Songs, written in Solomon's old age; Lamentations, Daniel, Esther, Ezra (comprising the present Nehemiah), and Chronicles are likewise placed in chronological order. In the same passage of the Talmud the question is put as to why the redaction of the prophecies of Isaiah is attributed to King Hezekiah and his academy. Rashi explained that the prophets collected their speeches only a short time before their death, and Isaiah having died a violent death, his works could not enjoy the benefit of his own redaction.

Still less need one expect to find in Rashi modern exegesis, that criticism which applies to Scriptures an investigation entirely independent of extraneous considerations, such as is brought to bear upon purely human works. Rashi's candid soul was never grazed by the slightest doubt of the authenticity of a Biblical passage. We can admire the genial divinations of an Abraham Ibn Ezra, but we also owe respect to that sincere faith of Rashi which was incapable of suspecting the testimony of tradition and the axioms of religion.

Ibn Ezra[93] and Rashi present the most vivid contrast. Though Ibn Ezra was open-minded and clear-sighted, he was restless and troubled. He led an adventurous existence, because his character was adventurous. Rashi's spirit was calm, without morbid curiosity, leaning easily upon the support of traditional religion, frank, throughout his life as free from the shadows of doubt as the soul of a child. Ibn Ezra had run the scientific gamut of his time, but he also dipped into mysticism, astrology, arithmolatry, even magic. Rashi, on the contrary, was not acquainted with the profane sciences, and so was kept from their oddities. With his clear, sure intelligence he penetrated to the bottom of the text without bringing it into agreement with views foreign to it. But the characteristic which distinguishes him above all others from Ibn Ezra is the frankness of his nature. He never seemed desirous of knowing 'what he did not know, nor of believing what he did not believe. Finally, and in the regard that specially interests us, Ibn Ezra, who belonged to the school of Arabic philosophers and scholars, who knew the Spanish grammarians, and was their inheritor, always employed the Peshat - that is, when he was not biassed by his philosophic ideas. In this case he saw the true meaning of the text, perhaps more clearly than any other Jewish commentator. Rashi did not possess the same scientific resources. He knew only the Talmud and the Midrash, and believed that all science was included in them. Moreover, though he stated in so many words his preference for a literal and natural interpretation of the text, he fell short of always obeying his own principle.

* * * * *

There is one characteristic of Rashi's Bible commentaries which I have already touched upon, but to which it is well to revert by way of conclusion, since it makes the final impression upon a student of the commentaries. I refer to a certain intimacy or informality of the work, a certain easy way of taking things. The author used no method. Now he explains the text simply and naturally; now he enjoys adorning it with fanciful embellishments. One would say of him, as of many an author of the Talmud, that in writing his work he rested from his Talmudic studies; and one seems to hear in these unceremonious conversations, these unpretentious homilies, the same note that even in the present day is sometimes struck in synagogues on Saturday afternoons. What clearly shows that Rashi unbent a little in composing his Biblical commentaries are the flashes of wit and humor lighting them, the display of his native grace of character, his smiling geniality. If he yielded some credence to the most naive inventions, this does not mean that he was always and entirely their dupe. They simply gave him the utmost delight. He did not refrain from piquant allusions; and the commentary on the Pentateuch presents a number of pleasantries, some of which are a bit highly-spiced for modern taste. Fundamentally, they are a heritage of the old Midrashic spirit grafted upon the gaiety of "mischievous and fine Champagne," as Michelet said. Assuredly, there were hours in which good humor reigned over master and pupils, and we seem to see the smile that accompanied the witty sallies, and the radiance of that kindly charm which illuminated the dry juridic discussions. All this forms an attractive whole, and everyone may feel the attraction; for the commentaries on the Bible, which can be read with pleasure and without mental fatigue, are intelligible to persons of most mediocre mind and cultivation. The words of a certain French critic upon another writer of Champagne, La Fontaine, might be applied to Rashi, though a comparison between a poet and a commentator may not be pressed to the utmost. "He is the milk of our early years, the bread of the adult, the last meal of the old man. He is the familiar genius of every hearth."

For many centuries the Biblical commentaries held a position - and still hold it - similar to that of La Fontaine's Fables. Few works have ever been copied, printed, and commented upon to the same extent. Immediately upon their appearance, they became popular in the strongest sense of the word. They cast into the shade the work of his disciples, which according to modern judgment are superior. Preachers introduced some commentaries of his into their sermons, and made his words the subject of their instruction; and Rashi was taught even to the children. The mass of readers assimilated the Halakic and Haggadic elements. Those who were not students, through Rashi got a smattering of a literature that would otherwise have been inaccessible to them; and the commentaries threw into circulation a large number of legends, which became the common property of the Jews. Rashi's expressions and phrases entered into current speech, especially those happy formulas which impress themselves on the memory. His commentary is printed in all the rabbinical Bibles; it has become to the Jews inseparable from the text, and even Mendelssohn's commentary, which has all of Rashi's good qualities and none of his faults, did not succeed in eclipsing it. In short, it is a classic.

CHAPTER VII

THE TALMUDIC COMMENTARIES

The commentaries on the Bible, especially those on the Pentateuch, constitute a work for general reading and for devotion as well as for scientific study. Their general scope explains both their excellencies and their defects. On the other hand, the commentary on the Talmud is an academic work. It originated in the school of Rashi, and was elaborated there during a long time. The one is a popular work for the use of the masses, the other, a learned treatise for the use of students. The explanation of the Scriptures was written for the benefit of the faithful in popular, attractive, and comprehensible form; the explanation of the Talmud constituted matter for serious study in the academies. Or, rather, after the long, exhaustive, and often dry-as-dust Talmudic discussion, the master took pleasure in interrupting his instruction in the school to give his interpretation of Biblical passages.

This is the reason why the Talmudic commentaries,[94] which are, as it were, the summing-up of Rashi's teachings, of his own studies, and of the observations of his pupils, have a more mature, more thoughtful character than the Biblical commentaries. They undoubtedly represent a greater amount of labor. It seems that Rashi himself made two or three recensions of his commentary, at least for many of the Talmudic treatises. Testimony to this fact is given by the variations of certain passages in the extant text and that cited by the ancient authors, notably the Tossafists. Moreover, the Tossafists explicitly mention corrections made by Rashi in his own work. The query naturally arises whether the corrections indicate that Rashi worked the entire commentary over and over again. The answer is no; for certain treatises remained incomplete, and others seem never to have been begun. Presumably, then, Rashi revised a treatise according to the needs of the occasion, as, for instance, when it came under his eyes in the course of instruction. However that may be, the work that we now possess is a mixture of the first and the last recension, though we cannot always tell which is the later and which the earlier.

Another fact explains the difference I have pointed out between the Biblical and the Talmudic commentaries. For the Biblical commentaries there had been no precedent, and if they possess the merit of originality, they also illustrate the errors of a man who tries his powers in a field of work devoid of all tradition. For the Talmudic commentaries, on the contrary, models were not lacking. The example of Gershom was sufficiently notable to evoke imitation, though his work was not so complete as to discourage it. We must not forget Rashi's predecessors because he eclipsed them. This would be contrary to his intentions, since he frequently cites them, rendering value in return for value received. In fact, he knew well how to use their works to advantage. He submitted them to a judicial and minute examination, collecting all the material he needed furnished by the Geonim as well as by his immediate masters. It would be as inexact to assert that he only made a resume of their works as to say that he worked along entirely original lines and relied solely upon his own resources. If we could compare his commentaries with previous commentaries (for some this comparison has been made), we should be forced into the admission that his part is smaller than one would suppose. The best proof of this fact is that the usual basis of his commentary for each treatise was the explanation of the master under whom he had studied it. He often cites the writings of his masters, to which he gives the title Yesod, "Foundation," probably either collections made by the teachers themselves or notebooks edited by their pupils. As a result of the love of brevity which is one of Rashi's marked characteristics, he does not quote in its entirety the source upon which he draws, but more frequently reproduces the sense rather than the exact words.

I must hasten to add that the Talmudic commentaries of Rashi's masters were inadequate, and did not meet all needs. We can judge of the lacunae in them both from the commentaries that have been preserved and from the criticisms which Rashi frequently added as an accompaniment to his citations. Sometimes the commentaries were too diffuse, sometimes too concise; their language was obscure and awkward; no stress was laid upon explaining all details, and the commentaries themselves stood in need of explanation; they addressed themselves to accomplished Talmudists rather than to students. Rashi's commentaries, on the contrary, could be understood by men of small learning-hence their influence and popularity. Moreover, the commentaries of his masters often contradicted one another, coming as they did from scholars who did not shrink from discussion. Rashi wished to put an end to these debates and introduce some unity into rabbinical tradition, and generally his purpose in refraining from a quotation of his predecessors was exactly to avoid an opening into the field of controversy. Finally, their commentaries, it seems, were not comprehensive; they bore upon only one or several treatises; whereas Rashi's bore on all or nearly all the treatises of the Gemara.[95] With Rashi execution rose to the height of his conception.

Rashi availed himself so little of the work of his masters that he began by establishing a correct text of the Talmud and subjecting it to a severe revision. The mistakes of his predecessors oftenest arose from the faultiness of the texts, marred by ignorant copyists or presumptuous readers. What is more, the use to which the Talmud was put in the academies and the discussions to which it gave rise, far from sheltering it from alterations made by way of correction, modified it in every conceivable fashion, according to the views of the chiefs of the schools. Like every book in circulation, the Talmud was exposed to the worst changes, and this all the more readily, because at that time no one had a notion of what we call respect for the text, for the idea of the author. As rigidly as the text of the Bible was maintained intact in the very minutest details, so lax was the treatment of the Talmud, which was at the mercy of individual whim. Naturally, the less scrupulous and less clearsighted allowed themselves the most emendations. Accordingly, Rabbenu Gershom felt called upon to put a severe restriction upon such liberties. Though he succeeded in moderating the evil, it could not be suppressed retroactively. Rashi realized that corrections made wittingly were indispensable, and that it was necessary to clear the Talmudic forest of entangling briers. Moreover, as we learn from Rashi himself, Gershom had already undertaken the task. Rashi also tells us that he had Gershom's autograph manuscript before him, not to mention other copies he was consulting and collating. Further testimony, apart from this internal evidence, is provided by Rashi's references to texts parallel to the Talmud, among them the Tosefta. Sometimes he records two readings without giving either the preference, though as a rule the reasoning or the context shows that he leans one way or the other, so that his alterations, which are usually correct, do not necessarily represent the early text. When Rashi has good cause for deciding a point in a certain way, he does not pay attention to possible errors or contradictions on the part of the Talmudists. In other words, though his text may be the most rational, it is not always the most authentic.

Rashi exercised this criticism of the text to a wide extent, yet prudently. I have already mentioned what Isaac of Vienna said concerning the numerous erasures that covered an autograph manuscript of his.[96] Many readings that Rashi rejected might have been kept - in fact they sometimes were kept - by force of finesse and subtlety. His method affords a striking contrast to that of the Talmudist Hananel,[97] who either eliminates the phrases unacceptable to him or preserves them only by doing violence to the sense. Rashi, on the contrary, compared the different versions of difficult or suspicious passages and prefers the one not requiring a subtle explanation. It is only when no reading satisfies him that he assumes an interpolation or an error, in this event frequently resorting to the Responsa of the Geonim. Needless to say, he also paid heed to the revision of Gershom; but since he deemed that Gershom had himself preserved faulty readings, he took up the work again, despite Gershom's prohibition. He realized that this careful and detailed critical revision of his predecessor, however ungrateful the soil might appear, was nevertheless fertile ground, and might serve as the solid basis of a thorough commentary.

He acquitted himself of the task with such success that his has become the official text, the "Vulgate," of the Talmud. In fact, his disciples inserted into the body of the Gemara the greater part of his corrections or restitutions (but not all; and one does not always comprehend the reasons for their choice), which have now become an integral part of the text. Thus a single, definite, and official text was established - a thing of great value in assuring the stability of rabbinical tradition in France and Germany.

From what I have already said, the reader can gather how individual was Rashi's method. The foundation for his commentaries, it is true, was provided by tradition and by the instruction he received from his masters. But over and above the circumstance that he preserved only what seemed fitting to him, is the fact that value attached rather to the setting given the material than to the material itself. Herein resides Rashi's merit - and the merit is great. He was occupied not so much in extracting from the discussion of the Talmud the essential ideas, the principles indicating rules of practice, as in rendering the discussion comprehensible both in its entirety and in its details. He wrote a grammatical commentary which provides the exact meaning, not only of the opinions set forth, but also of the phrases and expressions employed. A Jewish scholar of our day, I. H. Weiss, who has accomplished much toward acclimatizing the scientific study of the Talmud in Eastern Europe, justly remarked - and what he says is a lesson to the rabbis of his country:

How many Talmudists are there nowadays who take pains to understand exactly the meaning of such and such a passage of the Talmud, or who are capable of explaining it grammatically? They do like the predecessors of Rashi, whose method it was to give an exposition of an entire discussion merely by simplifying its terms. They wrote consecutive commentaries, not notes; and they often failed to explain difficult words. Rashi, on the contrary, always definitely determined the meaning of the various terms.

He does this with a sure touch, and the precision of his explanations is all the more remarkable as he did not know - whatever one may say to the contrary - the Talmudic lexicon of Nathan ben Jehiel, of Rome, which was not brought to a conclusion until four years after Rashi's death. It is a favorite trick of legend to establish relations between illustrious contemporaries, especially when their activities were exercised in the same field, and tradition has made Rashi the pupil of Nathan. The idea of such a relationship, however, is purely fantastic, the two rabbis probably not having ever known each other.[98]

Rashi carried the same spirit of exactness and precision into the whole of this work - qualities indispensable but difficult of attainment; for as A. Darmesteter well says:

Whoever has opened a page of the Talmud understands how necessary is a commentary upon a text written in Aramaic and treating of often unfamiliar questions in concise, exasperatingly obscure dialectics. The language, too, is obscure, and the lack of punctuation renders reading difficult to novices. No mark separates question from answer, digressions from parenthetical observations. The phrases form only a long string of words placed one after the other, in which one distinguishes neither the beginning nor the end of the sentences.

The difficulty presented by the obscurity of the style is increased by allusions to facts and customs which are no longer known and cannot always be guessed at. Now, thanks to Rashi's commentary, a reader possessing a knowledge of the elements of the language and some slight knowledge of Jewish law, can decipher it without overmuch difficulty.

Rarely superficial, Rashi explains the text simply yet thoroughly. He sifts his matter to the bottom. His reasoning is free from subtleties and violations of the sense. This characteristic comes out in bold relief when we compare Rashi with his disciples, the Tossafists, who carry their niceties to an excess. It would be wrong to hold Rashi responsible for the abuse later made of controversy; while, on the other hand, praise is owing to him for the happy efforts he made to unravel the texts, not only for the purpose of explaining their meaning, but also to indicate possible objections and reply to them in a few words. One must marvel at the clearsighted intelligence, the sureness, the mastery with which Rashi conveys the gist of a discussion as well as the value of the details, easily taking up each link in the chain of question and answer, pruning away superfluities, but not recoiling before necessary supplementary developments. In addition, rather than resort to forced explanations, he did not hesitate to avow that certain passages puzzled him, or that his knowledge was insufficient - a scruple not always entertained by his successors.

To determine the meaning of a text, Rashi frequently referred to parallel passages, contained not only in the Gemara itself, but also in other collections, such as the Tosefta, or the Halakic Midrashim.[99] Sometimes the Gemara cites them, or refers to them, at other times it makes no allusion whatsoever to them. In the latter case, it may be stated, Rashi, even when he does not say so explicitly, himself found the text for comparison and was inspired by it.

Moreover, on occasion, he points out general rules to which he conforms, some of them indicated in the Talmud itself, others provided by the Geonim, and others again evolved by himself in the course of his studies. Those who are competent to judge admire the precision with which he lays down these principles. By combining them, an excellent, although very incomplete, Talmudic methodology might be drawn up.

Some examples will give a better idea than a mere description of Rashi's method. I will separate his commentary from the text of the Gemara by square brackets, so as to show how he inserts his commentary, and how perfectly he adapts it to the Gemara.

The following passages deal with the proclamation of the new moon, made by the supreme tribunal, upon the evidence of two persons who declare that they have seen the new moon.

Mishnah: If he is not known [if the tribunal does not know the witness, does not know if he is honest and worthy of confidence], they [the tribunal of his city] will send another person with him [to bear witness concerning the new moon before the great tribunal, which proclaims the new month]. At first, evidence concerning the new moon was accepted from any and every body; since the Boethusians[100] turned to evil [this is explained in the Gemara], it was decided that only the testimony of persons who were known would be taken.

Gemara: What does "another" signify? Another individual? Does it mean that a single person is thought [worthy of confidence in declaring the first night of the new moon]? Is it not taught in a Baraita: "It once happened that a man came [to the tribunal, on the Sabbath, in order to give evidence concerning the new moon], accompanied by his witnesses, to testify concerning himself" [to declare him worthy of confidence]? Rab Papa replies: "Another" signifies "another couple of witnesses." This explanation seems to be the true one; for otherwise what would these words signify: "If he is not known?" If this individual is not known? But does it mean that a single person is believed [in bearing witness in regard to the new moon]? In connection with this, do not the Scriptures use the word law [in the verse: For this was a statute for Israel, and a law of the God of Jacob[101]]? Here, then, "the witness" signifies "the couple" of witnesses; similarly the previous "another" signifies "another couple." But is it quite certain that a single man is not enough? However, it is taught in a Baraita: "It once happened on a Sabbath that R. Nehoral accompanied a witness to give evidence concerning him at Usha" [at the time when the Sanhedrin had its seat in that city, and the new moon was proclaimed there]. R. Nehorai was accompanied by another witness, and if this witness is not mentioned, it is out of regard for R. Nehorai [for R. Nehorai is mentioned only that we may infer from his case that so prominent an authority inclined to leniency in the circumstances stated; but it is not fitting for us to appeal to the authority of his less important companion]. Rab Ashi replies: There was already another witness at Usha [who knew the one that was coming to give evidence], and R. Nehorai went to join him. If this is so, what is it that is meant to be conveyed to us? This: we might have thought in case of doubt [possibly this second witness might not be at home], the Sabbath must not be trangressed; we are thus taught that one should do it, etc. (Rosh ha-Shanah 22a bottom).

The following passage deals with the Lulab, which is used at the celebration of the Feast of Tabernacles, and must be flawless.

Mishnah: A Lulab [referring to the palm branch; farther on it will be stated that the myrtle and the willow of the brook are dealt with separately] that has been stolen [is unfit; for it is said:[102] "And ye shall take you": what belongs to you], or is dry [we demand that the ritual be carried out with care, in conformity with the words of Scripture:[103] "I will exalt Him "], is unfit. Coming from an Ashera [a tree adored as an idol; the Gemara gives the reason for the prohibition] or from a city given up to idolatry [for it is considered as burnt down, as it is said: "And thou shalt gather all the Spoil of it."[104] Now, the Lulab should have the length of four palms, as will be said farther on,[105] and since it is destined to be given up to the flames, it no longer has the desired length, being considered as burnt], it is unfit. If its end is cut [it is unfit; for it is not "beautiful"], or if its leaves have fallen off [from the central stem, and are united only by a band like the broom, in French called "escoube."[106] In this case, also, it is not "beautiful"], it is unfit. If its leaves are separated [attached to the stem, but at the top separated on each side, like the branches of a tree], it is good. R. Judah says: It should be bound [if its leaves are separated, they should be bound so that they are fixed to the stem as with other Lulabim]. The stony palm of the mountain - of - iron [the Gemara explains that these are palms] are good [they are Lulabim, although their leaves are very small and do not extend the length of the stem]. A Lulab having the length of three palms, so that it can be shaken [the Gemara explains: the stem should measure three palms, as much as the myrtle branch, and, in addition, another palm for shaking, for we require that the Lulab be shaken in the way told farther on (37b): "It is shaken vertically and horizontally," so as to exorcise the evil spirits and evil shades), is good.

Gemara: The Tanna is brief in showing [that the Lulab is unfit] without distinguishing between the first day of the festival [the celebration of which is made obligatory by the Torah] and the second day [for which the ceremony of the Lulab is prescribed only by the Rabbis, Scriptures saying "on the first day"[102]]. It must certainly refer to the dry Lulab [it may be unfit, even from a rabbinical point of view, for since it is a rite instituted in commemoration of the Temple, we require that it be practiced with care], for we require that it be "beautiful," and in this case the condition is not fulfilled. But so far as the stolen Lulab is concerned, I understand that it should not be used the first day, for in regard to the first day it is written: "And ye shall take you:" of what belongs to you; but why not the second day [whence does one know that one may not use it then?]? R. Johanan replies in the name of R. Simon ben Yohai: because then a regulation would be fulfilled through the commission of a transgression, for it is said [for we find a verse which forbids the fulfilment of a regulation through committing a transgression]: "And ye brought that which was stolen, and the lame, and the sick."[107] The stolen animal is likened to the lame; and just as it is irremediably unfit [it can never be offered as a sacrifice, because its imperfection is perpetual], so the one that is stolen is irremediably unfit [we deduce from this verse that it can never more become of use, even if there has been a renunciation; that is, if we have heard the owner renounce the object by saying, for example, "Decidedly, I have lost this purse;" although in regard to the ownership of the animal, we said, in the treatise Baba Kama (68a), that the holder became the possessor, if the first owner renounced it; however, he cannot offer it as a sacrifice upon the altar], whether this be before or after the renunciation. If before the renunciation, because the Torah says, "If any man of you bring an offering;[108] now, the stolen animal does not belong to him, but after the renunciation the holder becomes the possessor of it through the fact of this renunciation [why, then, does the prophet forbid its being used as an offering?]. Is it not exactly because this would be to fulfil [fulfill sic] a regulation by committing a transgression? R. Johanan says again in the name of R. Simon ben Yohai: what does this verse signify: "For I the Lord love judgment, I hate robbery for burnt offering"?[109] [for the burnt offering that you bring me, I hate the theft of which you make yourself guilty in stealing these animals, although everything belongs and always has belonged to Me]. Let us compare this case with that of a mortal king, who, passing before the house of a publican, says to his servants: "Give the toll to the publican." They object and say: "But is it not to thee that all the tolls return?" To which the king replies: "May all travellers [sic] take an example from me and not escape the payment of toll." In the same way God says: "I hate robbery for burnt offerings; may My children take an example from Me and escape the temptation to theft."

It has likewise been shown [that the motive of the Mishnah in declaring the stolen Lulab unfit for use on the second day of the festival, is that It would be the fulfilment of a regulation through the commission of a transgression]. Rabbi Ammi says: etc., (Sukkah 29b).

From these two citations it is evident that Rashi does not shrink from complicated explanations, and that he does not comment on the easy passages. In the following quotation, the discussion is somewhat more difficult to follow.

Mishnah: A slave [non-Jewish] who has been made prisoner and ransomed [by other Jews] in order to remain a slave, remains a slave [this will be explained by the Gemara]; In order to be free, becomes free. R. Simon ben Gamaliel says: In the one case as in the other, he remains a slave.

Gemara: With which case do we concern ourselves? If it is before the renunciation of the right of possession [by the first master, who has bought him from the hands of the non- Jew], ransomed in order to become free, why should he not remain a slave? It is, then, after this renunciation. But, bought to be a slave, why should he remain a slave? [Understand: of his first master; why should he remain a slave, since there was a renunciation by which rights upon him as a slave have been renounced?]. Abaye says: The case under debate is always that In which the first owner has not yet renounced his rights upon the slave, and if the slave has been bought to remain a slave [on condition of being restored to his first master, or even upon condition of belonging to him who bought him], he remains the slave of his first master [the second, in fact, has not acquired him, for he knows that his master remains his master, until the master has given him up; he would, therefore, be stealing the slave]; if the slave is ransomed to become free, he is the slave neither of the first nor of the second; not of the second, since he ransomed the slave to set him free, nor of the first who possibly abandoned him and did not buy him back. R. Simon b. Gamaliel, on the other hand, says: In one case as in the other he remains a slave; in fact, he admits that just as it is a duty to ransom free men, so it is a duty to ransom slaves [it is not, therefore, to be supposed that the first master would have abstained from buying back his slave].

Raba says: We are always dealing with the case in which the first master has already renounced his right of possession. And if the slave has been ransomed in order to be a slave, he serves his second master [farther on the question will be asked, from whom the second master bought him]; if ransomed to be free, he serves neither his first nor his second master; not his second master, since he bought the slave to give him his liberty; and not the first, since he had already renounced the slave. R. Simon b. Gamaliel, on the other hand, says: In the one case as in the other he remains a slave [of his first master], according to the principle of Hezekiah, who said: Why is it admitted that he remains a slave in either case? So that it should not be possible for any slave whatsoever to deliver himself up to the enemy and thus render himself independent of his master.

It is objected: R. Simon b. Gamaliel [we have been taught] said to his colleagues: "Just as it is a duty to ransom free men, so it is a duty to ransom slaves." This Baraita is to be understood according to Abaye, who takes it that there had been no renunciation [who applies the Mishnah to the case in which there has been previous renunciation; then the first paragraph of the Mishnah is motived by the abstention of the owner, who did not ransom his slave]: we thus explain to ourselves the expression "just as" [of R. Simon b. Gamaliel, for he does not suppose that the owner abstained, granted that it is a duty to ransom the slave]. But, according to Raba, who takes it that there has been renunciation [who applies the Mishnah to the case in which there was renunciation, and the first paragraph of the Mishnah is motived by the abstention of the owner, which is equivalent to a renunciation], this "just as" [of R. Simon b. Gamaliel, what does it signify?], since R. Simon b. Gamaliel bases his opinion upon the principle of Hezekiah [since the reason of R. Simon b. Gamaliel is the principle of Hezekiah: "so that the slave should not go and deliver himself up to the enemy"]. Raba replies, etc., (Gittin 37b).

What one least expects to find in a Talmudist is historic veracity. Yet it is not lacking in Rashi, either because he was guided by ancient and authentic traditions, or because he was inspired by his clear - sightedness, or - but this is apt to have been the case less frequently because he was well served by his power of divination. Rashi took good care not to confound the different generations of Tannaim and Amoraim, or the different rabbis in each. He knew the biographies of all of them, the countries of their birth, their masters and disciples, the period and the scene of their activity. Such knowledge was necessary not only in order to grasp the meaning of certain passages, but also in order to decide which opinion was final and had the force of law. Rashi also tried to understand, and in turn render comprehensible, the customs and the by-gone institutions to which the Talmud alludes. He gave information concerning the composition of the Mishnah and the Gemara, and the relations of the Mishnahs and the Baraitas. Because it contains all these data, Rashi's commentary is still a very valuable historical document, and Jewish historians of our days continue frequently to invoke its authority.

Yet in spite of this scattered information, the commentary is marked by certain deficiencies which indicate a deficiency in his mental make-up. When he explains an historical passage of the Talmud, he is incapable of criticising [criticizing sic] it. Apart from the fact that he would not believe legend to be legend, nor the Gemara capable of mistakes, he had neither the knowledge nor the scientific culture requisite for an historian. To be convinced of this, it is necessary to read only the following passage, in which the Talmud characteristically relates the final events before the downfall of the Jewish State. As before, I reproduce the Gemara along with the commentary of Rashi; but in translating the Gemara I anticipate what Rashi says. It must be borne in mind that Rashi explains in Hebrew - in rabbinical Hebrew - text written in Aramaic.

R. Johanan says: what signifies this verse (Prov. xxviii. 14): "Happy is the man that feareth always [who trembles before the future and says to himself: provided that no misfortune befall me if I do such and such a thing], but he that hardeneth his heart shall fall into mischief"? For Kamza and Bar Kamza Jerusalem was destroyed; for a cock and a hen the Royal Tower[110] was destroyed; for the side of a litter (rispak (Resh Yod Samech Pe Qof)) [the side of a lady's chariot, called reitwage (?) in German, as is said in the chapter "The mother and her young":[111] If thou yokest the mule to the litter rispak (Resh Yod Samech Pe Qof) for me], Betar was destroyed. For Kamza and Bar Kamza [names of two Jews] Jerusalem was destroyed. A man whose friend was Kamza [the name of whose friend was Kamza] and whose enemy was Bar Kamza prepared a banquet. He said to his servant: "Go, invite Kamza." The servant went to Bar Kamza. Finding him seated, the host said: "Since this man is (thou art) my enemy, why comest thou hither? Go, leave me." The other replied: "Since I have come, let me remain here, and I will give the price of what I shall eat and drink." "No," he answered [I will not let thee remain here]. "I will give thee," he [the other] insisted, "the half of the cost of the banquet." "No." "I will give thee the price of the entire banquet." But he took him by the arm, and made him rise and go out. [The expelled man] said to himself: "Since the rabbis present at this scene did not protest, it must be that it pleased them. Very well! I shall go and eat the morsel [of calumny] upon them in the presence of the governor." He went to the governor and said to Caesar: "The Jews are revolting against thee." Caesar replied: "Who told it thee?" "Send to them," replied the other, "a victim [to sacrifice it upon the altar; for we deduce from the repetition of the word "man" (in Lev. xvii.) that the non-Jews can offer voluntary sacrifices, like the Israelites]; thou wilt see if they sacrifice it." Caesar sent a calf without a blemish, but in transit a blemish appeared on the large lip [the upper lip], others say on the lid of the eye (dokin (Dalet Vav Qof Yod Final_Nun)) ["tela,"[112] as in Is. xl. 22 Dok (Dalet Vav Qof)], which constitutes a blemish for us, but not for the Romans [they could offer it to their gods on the high places, provided it did not lack a limb]. The rabbis were in favor of sacrificing the animal in the interest of public peace. Rabbi Zechariah b. Eukolos objected: "It will be said that you offer imperfect victims upon the altar." Then they wanted to kill [the messenger] so that he could not return and report what had happened. R. Zechariah objected: "It will be said that he who causes a blemish on a victim should be condemned to death" [it will be thought that because he caused a blemish on the victim, and because he thus trangressed [transgressed sic] the prohibition: "There shall be no blemish therein" (Lev. xxii. 21), he was put to death]. R. Johanan concluded: It is this complaisance of R. Zechariah b. Eukolos [who did not wish to put the messenger to death] which destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from the land of our fathers (Gittin 55b)

This passage is less historic than legendary in character; it forms part of the Haggadic element of the Talmud, In the explanation of the Haggadah Rashi has preserved its method, so wise, yet so simple. Others have attempted to be more profound in interpreting it allegorically. Rashi, with his fund of common sense, was nearer to the truth. His conception of the naive tales and beliefs was in itself naive. Moreover, before his time it was the legislative part of the Talmud that received almost exclusive attention. The rabbis occupied themselves with questions of practice and with making decisions, and they tried to unknot the entanglements of the discussions for the sake of extracting the norm, the definitive law. This is the case with Hananel, Rashi's predecessor, as well as with Alfasi,[113] Rashi's contemporary. Although, as we shall see, the French rabbi had studied the Talmud for the sake of practical needs, he adopted, so to speak, a more disinterested point of view. He did not pretend to write a manual of Talmudic law, but an uninterrupted running commentary for the use of all who wanted to make a consecutive study of the Talmud.

In the treatise Baba Batra (73a), the Gemara having exhausted the few observations it had to present upon the Mishnah, which speaks of the sail of a vessel and its rigging, falls back upon some popular narratives, "Tales of the Sea."

Raba said [all the facts that will be recounted are in illustration of the verse (Psalms civ. 24), "O Lord, how manifold are thy works!" Some of the facts show that the righteous are recompensed in the world to come, or they serve to explain the verses of Job that speak of large birds, of the Behemot, and of the large cetaceans; in fact, "even the simple conversations of the rabbis must be instructive"]: Some sailors reported to me what follows: "The wave which engulfs [which tries to engulf] a vessel seems to have at its head [seems to be preceded by] a ray of white fire [a white flame, which is a wicked angel]. But we beat it with rods (alvata (Alef Lamed Vav Vav Tav Alef) [rods, as in these words 'neither with a rod ((Alef Lamed He)) nor with a lance' in the treatise Shabbat (63a)], which bear these words graven on them: 'I am He who is, Yah, Eternal Zebaet, Amen, Selah' [such is the lesson of the text[114] and then it is laid to rest" [from its agitation].

Raba recounts: Some sailors related to me that which follows: "Between one wave and another wave there are three hundred parasangs[115] [it is necessary to give us this detail, for later on it will be said that the one wave raised its voice to speak to the other; now, one can make oneself heard at a distance of three hundred parasangs], and the height of a wave is likewise three hundred parasangs. Once we were on a voyage, when a wave raised us [up to the heavens, higher than its own height; or the heat of the heavens is so great that it extends to a distance which one could traverse in nearly five hundred years, the distance of the heavens from the earth[116], so high that we saw the encampment [the dwelling] of a little star [of the smallest of stars]; it appeared so large to us, that one would have been able to sow on its surface forty measures of mustard seed [which is larger than other seeds], and if it had raised us more, we would have been burned by its fumes [by the heat of the star]. Then a wave raised its voice [that is, called, just as it is said, "Deep calleth unto deep" (Psalms xlii. 7); or it may mean angels placed over the stars] and said to its companion: 'My companion, have you left something in the world which you have not swallowed up [for it had lifted itself so high, you might have thought it had sprung from the bed of the sea and had engulfed the world]? In that case I will go destroy it' [on account of the sins of man] - It said [the one wave replied to the other]: 'Behold the might of the Lord: I cannot by one thread [by the breadth of a thread] go beyond the sand '[that is to say: I cannot leave the bed of the sea]; thus it is said [it is the Gemara that cites this verse]: 'Fear ye not me?' saith the Lord. 'Will ye not tremble at my presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it?'" (Jer. v. 22).

Raba says: Hormin appeared to me, the son of Lillit [Hormin with an "n," such is the text which should be adopted, and which I get from my father; but I have learned from my masters that it should be read "Hormiz," with a "z," a word which means demon, as we see in Sanhedrin (39a) "the lower half of thy body belongs to Hormiz[117], running along the edge of the wall of Mahuza [This account makes us realize the goodness of God who loves his creatures and does not permit evil spirits to injure them; it also teaches us that one must not risk oneself alone on a voyage]; at the same moment a horseman galloped by [without thinking of evil], and he could not catch up to him [for the demon ran so quickly, that the horseman could not think of overtaking him].

In conclusion I will give one more extract, from the last chapter of Sanhedrin (92b), which contains a vast number of curious legends.

Our rabbis taught: Six miracles occurred on that day [the day on which Nebuchadnezzar threw the friends of Daniel into the furnace]. These are: the furnace raised itself [for it was sunk in the ground, like a lime-kiln; on that day it raised itself to the surface of the ground, so that all could see the miracle]; the furnace was rent in two [a part of its walls was riven so that all could look in]; humak suro (He Vav Mem Qof, Samech Vav Resh Vav) [its height was lowered, as in the phrase suro ka (Samech Vav Resh Vav, Resh Ayin) (Kiddushin 82a); another reading humak duso (He Vav Mem Qof, Dalet Vav Samech Vav) like yesodo (Yod Samech Vav Dalet Vav) its base was thrown. This is the explanation taught me by R. Jacob ben Yakar; but my master[118] reads (He Vav Samech Qof, Samech Yod Dalet, Vav): the lime of the furnace melted as a result of the great heat. Such are the explanations of my masters. It was from the heat thrown out by the lime that those men were consumed who cast Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah into the burning fiery furnace and that the golden image of the king was transformed before his eyes]; the image of the king was transformed before his eyes; the four empires were consumed by the flames [the kings and their subjects, who aided Nebuchadnezzar in casting Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah into the fire]; finally, Ezekiel brought the dead to life in the plain of Dura.[119]

What has been said up to this point indicates the position taken by Rashi with regard to the Halakah. Unlike Maimonides in his commentary of the Mishnah, he did not as a rule concern himself with the fixation of legal principles and practice, or with the definite solution of questions under controversy. He confined himself to his task of commentator and interpreter. The brevity he imposed upon himself made it an obligation not to enter into long and detailed discussions; for he would have had to dispose of varying opinions and justify his choice. He carried his principle to such an extent that it could be said of him, "Rashi is a commentator, he does not make decisions."[120]

But there are numerous exceptions to the rule. Often Rashi deems it necessary to state a definite solution, either because it has been the subject of controversies on the part of his masters, or because it was difficult to separate it from the rest of the discussion, or because it served as the point of departure for another discussion. Finally, the explanation of such and such a passage of the Talmud presupposes the solution of a question, unless the solution changes with the explanation of the passage. When the question is left in suspense by the Talmud, Rashi usually determines it in the strictest sense; but when it receives contradictory solutions, he either falls back upon analogous cases or adduces rules of Talmudic methodology. Often, however, his conclusion is nothing else than a statement of the practice observed in his time.

In all these cases Rashi's authority carries great weight; so much so, in fact, as to overbalance that of Alfasi and Maimonides. Frequent appeal was made to it by casuists of a later date, and it would have been invoked still oftener had his Decisions been gathered together, like those of the Spanish and German rabbis, instead of having been scattered through a large number of compilations.

* * * * *

By reason of these and other qualities the Talmudic commentaries of Rashi without doubt outweigh his Biblical commentaries. I should be inclined flatly to contradict the opinion ascribed to Jacob Tam, Rashi's grandson: "So far as my grandfather's commentary on the Talmud is concerned, I might do as much, but it would not be in my power to undertake his commentary upon the Pentateuch." The Biblical commentary is not always absolutely sure and certain, and the defects are marked. The Talmudic commentary remains a model and indispensable guide. Although numerous Biblical commentaries have been composed with Rashi's as a standard and in order to replace it, no one has dared provide a substitute for his Talmudic commentary. From an historical point of view, the value of the Talmudic commentary is no less great. At the same period, in three countries, three works were composed which complemented one another and which came to form the basis of Talmudic studies. At the time when Rashi commented on the Talmud, Nathan ben Jehiel[121] composed the Talmudic lexicon, which is still used to a great extent, while Isaac Alfasi in his Halakot codified all the Talmudic regulations. Of the three works the first was the most celebrated. The exaggerated statement was made of Rashi, that "without him the Talmud would have remained a closed book."[122] And Menahem ben Zerah[123] said: "There was no one so illuminating, and so concise as Rashi in the commentary he wrote as if by Divine inspiration. Without him, the Babylonian Talmud would have been forgotten in Israel." The echo of this enthusiastic opinion is heard in the words of the Hebrew scholar H. L. Strack, a Christian, and the modern Jewish scholar A. Darmesteter. The one says: "Rashi wrote a commentary which the Jews hold in extraordinarily high regard and which all must concede is of the greatest value." Darmesteter wrote: "Suppress the commentary of Rashi, that masterwork of precision and clearness, and even for a trained Talmudist, the Talmud becomes almost enigmatical."

Can more be said? The commentary has become, in brief, The Commentary, the Commentary par excellence, Konteros (Gommentarius).

CHAPTER VIII

THE RESPONSA

In the previous chapter we saw that Rashi, though chiefly concerned with the mere explanation of the Talmud, nevertheless intrenched sometimes upon the domain of practice. It must not be forgotten that at that epoch the life of the Jews was based upon, and directed by, rabbinical jurisprudence and discipline. The study of the Talmud was taken up for the sake of finding in it rules for the daily conduct of existence. Apart from certain questions purely theoretic in character and having no practical application, Talmudic studies, far from being confined to the school, responded to the needs of life and were of real, vital interest. But since the Talmud is not allcomprehensive, the rabbis in drawing inspiration from its rules, from precedents it had already established, and from analogous instances contained in it, were justified in rendering decisions upon new points arising out of circumstances as they occurred. Thus, measures are cited passed by Rashi upon the payment of taxes, Christian wine, the Mezuzah, phylacteries, etc. These measures resulted not so much from his own initiative as from the requests preferred to him by his disciples, or by other rabbis, or even by private individuals.

The Responsa addressed by rabbinical authorities to individuals or to communities who had submitted difficult cases and questions to them for solution, constitute a special genus of post-Biblical literature. Not to mention their legislative value, how precious they are as documents in proof of the fact that no distances were too long, no obstacles too great to prevent the people from obtaining the opinion of a scholar! They even sent special messengers to him, when there were no favoring circumstances, such as a fair at the rabbi's place of residence, or a journey to be undertaken thither for other reasons than the purpose of the consultation. Thus lively relations were established among the Jews of the most widely separated countries; and an active correspondence went on between scholars of Babylon, Northern Africa, Spain, France, Germany, and Italy.

The circle of Rashi's connections, however, was limited to France and Lorraine. His chief correspondents were his teachers and their disciples.[124] It was only after Rashi's day, when communication between the Christian and the Moslem worlds became more frequent, that rabbinical authorities were appealed to from all the corners of Europe and Africa.

Though his correspondents were not so widely scattered, the subjects touched upon by Rashi in his Responsa are very varied in character. He was consulted on the meaning of a Biblical or a Talmudic passage, on the text of the liturgy, on rules of grammar, on Biblical chronology, and, especially, on new cases arising in the practice of religion. These Responsa, inspired, so to speak, by actualities, by the come and go of daily affairs, introduce the reader to the material and intellectual life of the Jews of the time, besides furnishing interesting information concerning the master's method.

One of the questions most frequently agitated regarded wine of the Gentiles, the drinking of which was prohibited to the Jews because it was feared that the wine had been employed for idolatrous libations. Cases of this kind turned up every day, because the Jews occupied themselves with viticulture[125] and maintained constant communication with the Christians. Rashi showed himself rather liberal. Though, of course, forbidding Jews to taste the wine, he permitted them to derive other enjoyment from it, the Christians not being comparable to the pagans, since they observed the Noachian laws. Rashi's grandson, Samuel ben Meir, explicitly states in Rashi's name that the laws set forth by the Talmud against the Gentiles do not apply to the Christians.

The brother of Samuel, Jacob Tam, tells us that Rashi forbade the payment of a tax by using a sum of money left on deposit by a Christian. This decision, Jacob Tam adds, was intended to apply to the whole kingdom and, in fact, was accepted throughout France. This testifies not only to the great authority Rashi enjoyed, but also to the uprightness, the honesty of his character. Another of his qualities becomes apparent in a second Responsum treating of the relations between Jews and Christians. They carried on trade with each other in wheat and cattle. Now, the Mishnah forbids these transactions. "When this prohibition was promulgated," wrote Rashi, "the Jews all dwelt together and could carry on commerce with one another; but at present, when we are a minority in the midst of our neighbors, we cannot conform to so disastrous a measure." Rashi, it is therefore evident, knew how to take into account the needs of the moment, and accommodate rules to conditions.

Relations, then, between the Jews and their fellow citizens were cordial. The horizon seemed serene. But if one looked closer, one could see the gathering clouds slowly encroaching upon the calm sky, clouds which were soon to burst in a storm of bloody hate and murderous ferocity. Although the change came about imperceptibly and the Jews enjoyed the calm preceding the tempest, despite this and despite themselves, they entertained a smothered distrust of the Christians. For instance, they used ugly expressions to designate objects the Christians venerated. The Christians responded in kind. The ecclesiastical works of the time are full of insults and terms of opprobrium aimed at the Jews. If one reads the narrative of the Crusades, during which the blood of innocent massacred Jews flowed in streams, one must perforce excuse, not so much real hostility toward the Christians, as the employment of malicious expressions directed against their worship. The feeling that existed was rather the heritage of tradition, the ancient rivalry of two sister religions, than true animosity. As for tolerance, no such thing yet existed. It was difficult at that time for people to conceive of benevolence and esteem for those who professed a different belief. The effect of the First Crusade upon the inner life of the communities was to create anomalous situations within families, necessitating the intervention of rabbinical authorities. The Responsa of Rashi dealing with martyrs and converts no doubt sprang from these sad conditions. A woman, whose husband died during the persecution, married again without having previously claimed her jointure from the heirs of her dead husband; but she wanted to insist on her rights after having contracted the new union. Rashi, in a Responsum, the conclusions of which were attacked after his death by several rabbis, declared that the claim of the woman was entitled to consideration.

The echo of the Crusades is heard in other instances. I have already spoken of the liberal, tolerant attitude[126] assumed by Rashi in regard to the unfortunates who deserted the faith of their fathers in appearance only, and sought refuge in that of their persecutors. He excused the hypocrisy of these weak beings, who accepted baptism only externally and in their hearts remained Jews.

In general, so far as questions in regard to lending on interest, to giving testimony, and to marriage relations were concerned, Rashi held the apostate to be the same as the Jew. He was once asked if the testimony of an apostate was valid in law. "It is necessary," he replied "to distinguish in favor of those who follow the Jewish law in secret and are not suspected of transgressing the religious precepts which the Christians oblige them to transgress outwardly. At bottom they fear God. They weep and groan over the constraint put upon them, and implore pardon of God. But if there is a suspicion that they committed transgressions without having been forced to do so, even if they have repented with all their heart, and all their soul, and all their might, they cannot bring evidence ex post facto concerning facts which they witnessed before they repented."

Rashi, then, was indulgent above all toward those who had been converted under the compulsion of violence, and who sincerely regretted their involuntary or imposed apostasy. On one occasion, he was asked if the wine belonging to such unfortunates should be forbidden, though they had proved their return to the Jewish faith by a long period of penitence. Rashi replied: "Let us be careful not to take measures for isolating them and thereby wounding them. Their defection was made under the menace of the sword, and they hastened to return from their wanderings." Elsewhere Rashi objects to recalling to them their momentary infidelity. A young girl was married while she and her bridegroom were in the state of forced apostasy. Rashi declared the union to be valid, for "even if a Jew becomes a convert voluntarily, the marriage he contracts is valid. All the more is this true in the case of those who are converted by force, and whose heart always stays with God, and especially, as in the present case, if they have escaped as soon as they could from the faith they embraced through compulsion."

Since internal union is the surest safeguard against persecution from without, Rashi earnestly exhorted his brethren to shun intestine strife. "Apply yourselves to the cultivation of peace," he once wrote. "See how your neighbors are troubled by the greatest evils and how the Christians delight in them. Concord will be your buckler against envy and prevent it from dominating you." In a community, doubtless that of Chalons- sur-Saone, in Burgundy,[127] there were two families that quarrelled [quarreled sic] continually. The community had intervened to stop the strife, but one of the two families declared in advance that it would not submit to its decision. A member of the other family, irritated, reproached one of his enemies with having been baptized. Now Rabbenu Gershom, under penalty of excommunication, had forbidden people to recall his apostasy to a converted Jew. Rashi was asked to remove this prohibition; but he declined, not wishing to intervene in the internal administration of a strange community. "What am I that I should consider myself an authority in other places?... I am a man of little importance, and my hands are feeble, like those of an orphan. If I were in the midst of you, I would join with you in annulling the interdiction." From this it is evident that the strongest weapon of the rabbinical authorities against the intractable was, as in the Church, excommunication; but that sometimes individuals asserted, and even swore in advance, that they would not yield to the decree against them. Rashi considered that this oath, being contrary to law, was null and void.

Rashi, guided by the same feelings, was pitiless in his condemnation of those who fomented trouble, who sowed discord in families, sometimes in their own households. A man, after having made promise to a young girl, refused to marry her and was upheld in his intrigues by a disciple of Rashi. Rashi displayed great severity toward the faithless man for his treatment of the girl, and he was not sparing even in his denunciation of the accomplice. Another man slandered his wife, declaring that she suffered from a loathsome disease, and through his lying charges he obtained a divorce from her. But the truth came to light, and Rashi could not find terms sufficiently scathing to denounce a man who had recourse to such base calumnies and sullied his own hearth. "He is unworthy," Rashi wrote, "to belong to the race of Abraham, whose descendants are always full of pity for the unfortunate; and all the more for a woman to whom one is bound in marriage. We see that even those who do not believe in God respect the purity of the home, - and here is a man who has conducted himself so unworthily toward a daughter of our Heavenly Father." After indicating what course is to be pursued in case of divorce, Rashi concluded: "But it would be better if this man were to make good his mistake and take back his wife, so that God may take pity on him, and he may have the good fortune to build up his home again and live in peace and happiness."

The Responsa, providing us, as we have seen, with interesting information concerning Rashi's character, are no less important for giving us knowledge of his legal and religious opinions. As a result of the poise of his nature, and in the interest of order, he attached great importance to traditional usages and customs. Innovations are dangerous, because they may foment trouble; to abide by custom, on the contrary, is the surest guarantee of tranquillity [tranquility sic]. In casuistical questions not yet solved, he did not adopt as his principle the one prevailing with so many rabbis, of rendering the strictest decision; on the contrary, in regard to many matters, he was more liberal than his masters or his colleagues. Nevertheless, he congratulated those whose interpretation in certain cases was more severe than his own. In his scrupulous piety, he observed certain practices, although he refused to set them up as laws for others, since, one of his disciples tells us, he did not wish to arrogate to himself the glory of instituting a rule for the future. He contented himself with saying: "Blessed be he who does this." Since he stuck to the rigid observance of religion, and feared to open the door to abuses, he advised his pupils not to give too much publicity to certain of his easy interpretations of the Law.

If he did not approve of laxity, he had still less sympathy with the extreme piety bordering on folly of those whom he called "crazy saints." Enemy to every exaggeration, he blamed those who, for example, imposed upon themselves two consecutive fast days. Once when the Fast of Esther fell on a Thursday, a woman applied to Rashi for advice. She told him she was compelled to accompany her mistress on a trip, and asked him whether she might fast the next day. Rashi in his Responsum first recalled the fact that the Fast of Esther was not mentioned either in the Bible or in the Talmud, and then declared that the over- conscientious Jews who fast on Friday in order to make a feast day follow close upon a fast day, deserve to be called fools who walk in darkness.[128]

Finally, although Rashi was very scrupulous in matters of religion, he was tolerant toward faults and failings in others. Sinners and, as I have shown, even apostates found grace with him. He liked to repeat the Talmudic saying to which, in generalizing it, he gave a new meaning, "An Israelite, even a sinful one, remains an Israelite."

There is little to say concerning the style of Rashi's Responsa. In the setting forth and the discussion of the questions under consideration, his usual qualities are present - precision, clearness, soberness of judgment. But the preambles - sometimes a bit prolix - are written after the fashion prevailing among the rabbis of the time, in a complicated, pretentious style, often affecting the form of rhymed prose and always in a poetic jargon. With this exception, the Responsa do not betray the least straining after effect, the least literary refinement. The very fact that Rashi did not himself take the precaution to collect his Responsa, proves how little he cared to make a show with them, though, it is true, the custom of gathering together one's Responsa did not arise until later, originating in Spain, and passing on to Germany. As I shall immediately proceed to show, it was Rashi's disciples who collected the Responsa of their master and preserved them for us, at least in part.

CHAPTER IX

WORKS COMPOSED UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF RASHI

After having passed in review the works which are the result of Rashi's own labor and which have come down to us in the shape in which they emerged from his hands, or nearly so, several works remain to be described that present a double character; they did not spring directly from Rashi's pen, but were written by his pupils under his guidance, or, at least, as the result of his inspiration and influence. They have reached us in altered form, amplified, and sometimes improved, sometimes spoiled by various authors. The confusion reigning in these works has contributed toward an inexact appreciation of their function. From the first they were meant to be compilations, collections of rules, rather than works having a specified object.

To point out the fact once again, Rashi's pupils became his collaborators; and, it must be added, they established a veritable cult of their master. They neglected nothing concerning him; they carefully noted and piously recorded his slightest deed and gesture, on what day they had seen him, under what circumstances, how he felt that day, and how he conducted himself at the table. When a case similar to some previous one arose, they contented themselves with referring to the former and reproducing the discussion to which it had given rise.

It is to this veneration, bordering on religious devotion, that we owe the preservation of Rashi's Responsa and Decisions. Some entered into the collections of the Babylonian Geonim, - a fact which shows how highly people regarded the man who was thus ranked with the greatest rabbinical authorities, - but most of them formed the basis of several independent works: the Sefer ha-Pardes (Book of Paradise), the Sefer ha-Orah (Book of Light?), the Sefer Issur-we-Heter (Book of Things Prohibited and Things Permitted), and the Mahzor Vitry. The first work was edited at the beginning, the last, at the end, of the nineteenth century, and part of the second was introduced into the first by the editor of the first. The whole of the second has just been published by Mr. Solomon Buber. The third work, which offers many resemblances to the Mahzor Vitry, is still in manuscript; but Mr. Buber has recently promised us its publication in the near future, as well as a Siddur, or ritual, of Rashi, related to the Mahzor Vitry and to a Sefer ha-Sedarim.

In all these collections it is sometimes difficult to determine what is Rashi's handiwork, or which of his pupils is responsible for certain passages. The composition of the works is, in fact, original and merits brief characterization.

The Sefer ha-Pardes, though commonly attributed to Rashi himself, cannot possibly have been his work, since it contains rules, decisions, and Responsa made by several of his contemporaries, and even by some of his successors. Among others are additions by Joseph Ibn Plat or his disciples (second half of the twelfth century). But in respect of one of its constituent elements, it was a creation of Rashi's. It was formed, in fact, by the fusion of two collections. The author of the one containing the customs of the three cities of Speyer, Worms, and Mayence, must have been one of the Machirites; while the author of the other, comprising Rashi's practices and Responsa, must have been his disciple Shemaiah.[129]

The Sefer ha-Pardes is a widely-read book, and it has been used, sometimes under other titles, by the greater number of legal compilations made in France and Germany. It passed through various redactions, and the one now extant is not the most complete.

The Sefer ha-Orah, the redaction of which is sometimes attributed, though wrongly so, to Nathan haMachiri, is a compilation of several works, which seem to have been written in Spain at the beginning of the fourteenth century. It consists of two principal elements; the first, German in origin, is similar to the Pardes now extant; the second is the work of the Spaniard, Judah ben Barzillai, of Barcelona (twelfth century). It is, of course, in the first that one finds fragments of works which date back to the disciples of Rashi.

The Mahzor Vitry is a more or less homogeneous work. It contains rules of jurisprudence and of religious practice, Responsa by Rashi, by his predecessors, and by his contemporaries, prayers and liturgic poems, "Minor" Talmudic treatises, the whole divided into chapters following the yearly cycle, and bearing upon the various circumstances of life. The work contains many additions due to Isaac ben Durbal, or Durbalo, who visited the countries of Eastern Europe and was the disciple of Rabbenu Tam (about 1150). He is wrongly considered to be the redactor of the Mahzor Vitry. The author of the work is, without doubt, Simhah ben Samuel, of Vitry, a disciple of Rashi (about 1100), who availed himself, moreover, of the works of other pupils of the master.

The Mahzor Vitry is of great importance not only for the historian of Rashi, but also for the historian of Franco - Jewish culture and literature at that time. The same may be said of the Sefer ha-Pardes. Yet this material must be used with the utmost caution; for it has come to us in a sad condition, disfigured by the compilers and copyists, who introduced elements from various sources and different epochs. The original works disappeared during the persecutions and autos-da-fe which followed one another in France and Germany. The redactions now extant come from Spain and Italy.

These short analyses may give an idea of the collections not yet edited; for they all stand in relation one with the other, and are in great part formed of the same elements and derived from the same material.

CHAPTER X

POETRY ATTRIBUTED TO RASHI

Almost immediately upon the birth of liturgical poetry in the time of the Geonim, an illustrious representative arose in the person of Eleazar ha-Kalir,[130] who came to exercise a profound influence upon his successors, and in Rashi's day this poetry attained a high degree of development. That was the time when Jews, instead of merely listening to the officiating minister, commenced to accompany him with their voices in antiphonal chants.

Like most of the rabbis of his time, Rashi wrote liturgical poems, the number of which Zunz, with more or less surety, places at seven. Three are still preserved in some rituals. According to Luria, Rashi composed more than this number.

It is fair to question whether a Talmudist is fashioned to be a poet, and whether it is possible for love of discussion and dialectics to accord with poetic sensibility and imagination. Indeed, the liturgical poetry of the Jews of France and Germany has not the least artistic value. It shows neither concern for originality, nor knowledge of composition, and the poets were strangers to the conception of art and beauty. Moreover, they imposed upon themselves rather complicated rules, the most simple forms adopted being rhyme and acrostic. Sometimes they accomplished veritable feats of mental gymnastics, whose merit resided in the mere fact that a difficulty was overcome. Too often a play upon words or alliteration takes the place of inspiration, and ideas give way to factitious combinations.

These defects disappear in a translation, which is all the more acceptable for the very reason that it does not reproduce the vivid coloring of the original. The following, recited on the Fast of gedaliah (az terem nimteju (Alef zayin, Mem resh Final_Mem, Nun mem Tav Het Vav)), may serve as an example. Rashi uses certain Midrashim in it which describe the throne of God and the heavenly court. Such poetry as there is - and there is some - is overlaid and submerged by the slow development of the thought and the painfully detailed enumerations, strongly reminiscent of the Bible. It should be said that the language of Rashi is far simpler than that of his contemporaries.

Before yet the clouds were gathered in a canopy, Before yet the earth was rounded as a sphere, Thou didst prepare seven in Thy abode: The sacred Law, the splendid throne, the backslider's return, Paradise in all its beauty, and insatiable hell, The atonement place for sacrificial offerings, And the resplendent name of him who delays to come because of all our sins. Two thousand years before our globe were these, Set as jewels in the sky, whence earthward gleamed their light; In the realms above they ready stand round Him enthroned between the Cherubim. Firm established is the heavenly throne for the King supreme Whose glory is shed upon all within His presence: By His right hand the Law engraved with flaming letters He caresses like a child beloved. Toward the south lies the ever-fragrant Garden, Hell with its ever-burning flames to the north, Eastward Jerusalem built on strong foundations, In the midst of it the sanctuary of God, And in the sanctuary the altar of expiation, Weighted with the corner-stone of the world, Whereon is graven the Messiah's holy name Beside the great Ineffable Name. In the centre [center sic] before Him who is the source of all blessings stands Repentance, The healing balm for the suffering and afflicted soul, Appointed to remove each blemish, array the repentant in unsoiled garments, And pour precious oil on the head of sorrowing sinners. Thus we all, both old and young, appear before Thee. Wash off our every taint, our souls refine from every sin. Backsliding children, we come to Thee as suppliants, Seeking Thee day by day with humble, urgent prayers. Account them unto us as blood and fat of offerings, Like sacrificial steers and rams accept our contrite words. O that our sins might be sunk in abysmal depths, And Thy brooding infinite mercy bring us near to Thee.

In the first part of this poem the imagination displayed cannot be said to call forth admiration either by reason of fertility or by reason of brilliance. Any ordinary student of the Talmud and the Midrash might have produced it. Nevertheless Rashi awakens a certain sort of interest, it may even be said that he touches the emotions, when he pours out all his sadness before God, or rather - for his grief is impersonal - the sadness of the Jew, the humble sinner appealing to the mercy of God. When his feelings rise to their most solemn pitch, their strong pulsations visible through the unaccustomed poetic garb, the cloak of learned allusions drops of itself, and emotion is revealed under the strata of labored expressions. All the poems by Rashi belong under the literary form called Selihot, penitential psalms, recited on fast days.