University of Virginia Library

LETTER VI.

I lately visited the Jewish Synagogue in Crosby-street,
to witness the Festival of the New Year, which was observed
for two days, by religious exercises and a general
suspension of worldly business. The Jewish year, you
are aware, begins in September; and they commemorate
it in obedience to the following text of Scripture: “In the
first day of the seventh month ye shall have a Sabbath, a
memorial of blowing of trumpets, a holy convocation. Ye
shall do no servile work therein.”

It was the first time I ever entered any place of worship
where Christ was not professedly believed in. Strange
vicissitudes of circumstance, over which I had no control,
have brought me into intimate relation with almost every
form of Christian faith, and thereby given me the power of
looking candidly at religious opinions from almost any point
of view. But beyond the pale of the great sect of Christianity
I had never gone; though far back in my early years,
I remember an intense desire to be enough acquainted with
some intelligent and sincere Mohammedan, to enable me to
look at the Koran through his spectacles.

The women were seated separately, in the upper part of
the house. One of the masters of Israel came, and somewhat
gruffly ordered me, and the young lady who accompanied
me, to retire from the front seats of the synagogue.
It was uncourteous; for we were very respectful and still,
and not in the least disposed to intrude upon the daughters
of Jacob. However, my sense of justice was rather gratified
at being treated contemptuously as a Gentile and “a
Nazarene;” for I remembered the contumely with which

they had been treated throughout Christendom, and I imagined
how they must feel, on entering a place of Christian
worship, to hear us sing,

The effect produced on my mind, by witnessing the ceremonies
of the Jewish Synogogue, was strange and bewildering;
spectral and flitting; with a sort of vanishing resemblance
to reality; the magic lantern of the Past.

Veneration and Ideality, you know, would have made
me wholly a poet, had not the inconvenient size of Conscientiousness
forced me into reforms; between the two,
I look upon the Future with active hope, and upon the Past
with loving reverence. My mind was, therefore, not only
unfettered by narrow prejudice, but solemnly impressed
with recollections of those ancient times when the Divine
Voice was heard amid the thunders of Sinai, and the Holy
Presence shook the mercy-seat between the cherubim. I
had, moreover, ever cherished a tenderness for

Thus prepared, the scene would have strongly excited
my imagination and my feelings, had there not been a
heterogeneous jumbling of the Present with the Past.
There was the Ark containing the Sacred Law, written
on scrolls of vellum, and rolled, as in the time of Moses;
but between the Ark and the congregation, instead of the

“brazen laver,” wherein those who entered into the tabernacle
were commanded to wash, was a common bowl and
ewer of English delf, ugly enough for the chamber of a
country tavern. All the male members of the congregation,
even the little boys, while they were within the synagogue,
wore fringed silk mantles, bordered with blue stripes;
for Moses was commanded to “Speak unto the children of
Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in the
borders of their garments, throughout their generations,
and that they put upon the fringe of their borders a ribbon
of blue;”—but then these mantles were worn over modern
broadcloth coats, and fashionable pantaloons with straps.
The Priest indeed approached more nearly to the gracefulness
of oriental costume; for he wore a full black silk robe,
like those worn by the Episcopal clergy; but the large
white silk shawl which shaded his forehead, and fell over
his shoulders, was drawn over a common black hat! Ever
and anon, probably in parts of the ceremony deemed peculiarly
sacred, he drew the shawl entirely over his face, as
he stooped forward and laid his forehead on the book before
him. I suppose this was done because Moses, till
he had done speaking with the congregation, put a veil
upon his face. But through the whole, priest and people
kept on their hats. My spirit was vexed with this incongruity.
I had turned away from the turmoil of the Present,
to gaze quietly for a while on the grandeur of the Past;
and the representatives of the Past walked before me, not
in the graceful oriental turban, but the useful European
hat! It broke the illusion completely.

The ceremonies altogether impressed me with less solemnity
than those of the Catholic Church; and gave me
the idea of far less faith and earnestness in those engaged
therein. However, some allowance must be made for
this: first, because the common bond of faith in Christ
was wanting between us; and secondly, because all the

services were performed in Hebrew, of which I understood
not one syllable. To see mouths opened to chant
forth a series of unintelligible sounds, has the same kind of
fantastic unreality about it, that there is in witnessing a
multitude dancing, when you hear no music. But after
making all these allowances, I could not escape the conclusion
that the ceremonies were shuffled through in a cold,
mechanical style. The priest often took up his watch,
which lay before him; and assuredly this chanting of
prayers “by Shrewsbury clock” is not favourable to solemnity.

The chanting was unmusical, consisting of monotonous
ups and downs of the voice, which, when the whole congregation
joined in it, sounded like the continuous roar of
the sea.

The trumpet, which was blown by a Rabbi, with a shawl
drawn over his hat and face, was of the ancient shape,
somewhat resembling a cow's horn. It did not send forth
a spirit-stirring peal; but the sound groaned and struggled
through it—not at all reminding one of the days when

I observed, in the English translation on one side of an
open prayer book, these words: “When the trumpet shall
blow on the holy mountain, let all the earth hear! Let
them which are scattered in Assyria, and perishing in
Egypt, gather themselves together in the Holy City.” I
looked around upon the congregation, and I felt that Judea
no longer awoke at the sound of the trumpet!

The ark, on a raised platform, was merely a kind of semicircular
closet, with revolving doors. It was surmounted
by a tablet, bearing a Hebrew inscription in gilded letters.

The doors were closed and opened at different times, with
much ceremony; sometimes, a man stood silently before
them, with a shawl drawn over his hat and face. When
opened, they revealed festoons of white silk damask, suspended
over the sacred rolls of the Pentateuch; each roll
enveloped in figured satin, and surmounted by ornaments
with silver bells. According to the words of Moses,
“Thou shalt put into the ark the testimony which I shall
give thee.” Two of these rolls were brought out, opened
by the priest, turned round toward all the congregation,
and after portions of them had been chanted for nearly two
hours, were again wrapped in satin, and carried slowly
back to the ark, in procession, the people chanting the
Psalms of David, and the little bells tinkling as they moved.

While they were chanting an earnest prayer for the coming
of the Promised One, who was to restore the scattered
tribes, I turned over the leaves, and by a singular coincidence
my eye rested on these words: “Abraham said, see
ye not the splendid light now shining on Mount Moriah?
And they answered, nothing but caverns do we see.” I
thought of Jesus, and the whole pageant became more
spectral than ever; so strangely vague and shadowy, that
I felt as if under the influence of magic.

The significant sentence reminded me of a German
friend, who shared his sleeping apartment with another
gentleman, and both were in the habit of walking very
early in the morning. One night, his companion rose
much earlier than he intended; and perceiving his mistake,
placed a lighted lamp in the chimney corner, that its
glare might not disturb the sleeper, leaned his back against
the fire-place, and began to read. Sometime after, the
German rose, left him reading, and walked forth into the
morning twilight. When he returned, the sun was shining
high up in the heavens; but his companion, unconscious
of the change, was still reading by lamp light in the

chimney corner. And this the Jews are now doing, as
well as a very large proportion of Christians.

Ten days from the Feast of Trumpets, comes the Feast
of the Atonement. Five days after, the Feast of Tabernacles
is observed for seven days. Booths of evergreen
are erected in the synagogue, according to the injunction,
“Ye shall dwell in booths seven days; all that are Israelites
born shall dwell in booths. And ye shall take the
boughs of goodly trees, branches of palm trees, and the
boughs of thick trees, and willows of the brook; and ye
shall rejoice before the Lord your God seven days.”

Last week, a new synagogue was consecrated in Attorney-street;
making, I believe, five Jewish Synagogues in
this city, comprising in all about ten thousand of this ancient
people. The congregation of the new synagogue
are German emigrants, driven from Bavaria, the Duchy of
Baden, &c., by oppressive laws. One of these laws forbade
Jews to marry; and among the emigrants were many
betrothed couples, who married as soon as they landed on
our shores; trusting their future support to the God of
Jacob. If not as “rich as Jews,” they are now most of
them doing well in the world; and one of the first proofs
they gave of prosperity, was the erection of a place of
worship.

The oldest congregation of Jews in New-York, were
called Shewith Israel. The Dutch governors would not
allow them to build a place of worship; but after the English
conquered the colony, they erected a small wooden
synagogue, in Mill-street, near which a creek ran up
from the East River, where the Jewish women performed
their ablutions. In the course of improvement this was
sold; and they erected the handsome stone building in
Crosby-street, which I visited. It is not particularly striking
or magnificent, either in its exterior or interior; nor
would it be in good keeping, for a people gone into captivity

to have garments like those of Aaron, “for glory and
for beauty;” or an “ark overlaid with pure gold, within
and without, and a crown of gold to it round about.”

There is something deeply impressive in this remnant
of a scattered people, coming down to us in continuous
links through the long vista of recorded time; preserving
themselves carefully unmixed by intermarriage with people
of other nations and other faith, and keeping up the ceremonial
forms of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, through all the
manifold changes of revolving generations. Moreover,
our religions are connected, though separated; they are
shadow and substance, type and fulfilment. To the Jews
only, with all their blindness and waywardness, was given
the idea of one God, spiritual and invisible; and, therefore,
among them only could such a one as Jesus have appeared.
To us they have been the medium of glorious
truths; and if the murky shadow of their Old dispensation
rests too heavily on the mild beauty of the New, it is because
the Present can never quite unmoor itself from the
Past; and well for the world's safety that it is so.

Quakers were mixed with the congregation of Jews;
thus oddly brought together, were the representatives of
the extreme of conservatism, and the extreme of innovation!

I was disappointed to see so large a proportion of this
peculiar people fair-skinned and blue-eyed. As no one
who marries a Gentile is allowed to remain in their synagogues,
one would naturally expect to see a decided predominance
of the dark eyes, jetty locks, and olive complexions
of Palestine. But the Jews furnish incontrovertible
evidence that colour is the effect of climate. In the
mountains of Bavaria they are light-haired and fair-skinned:
in Italy and Spain they are dark: in Hindostan swarthy.
The Black Jews of Hindostan are said to have been originally
African and Hindoo slaves, who received their freedom

as soon as they became converted to Judaism, and had fulfilled
the rites prescribed by the ceremonial law; for the
Jews, unlike Christians, deem it unlawful to hold any one
of their own religious faith in slavery. In another respect
they put us to shame; for they held a Jubilee of Freedom
once in fifty years, and on that occasion emancipated all,
even of their heathen slaves.

Whether the Black Jews, now a pretty large class in
Hindostan, intermarry with other Jews we are not informed.
Moses, their great lawgiver married an Ethiopian.
Miriam and Aaron were shocked at it, as they would have
been at any intermarriage with the heathen tribes, of whatever
colour. Whether the Ethiopian woman had adopted
the faith of Israel is not mentioned; but we are told that
the anger of the Lord was kindled against Aaron and his
sister for their conduct on this occasion.

The anniversary meetings of the New-York Hebrew
Benevolent Society present a singular combination. There
meet together pilgrims from the Holy Land, merchants from
the Pacific Ocean and the East Indies, exiles from the
banks of the Vistula, the Danube, and the Dneiper, bankers
from Vienna and Paris, and dwellers on the shores of the
Hudson and the Susquehannah. Suspended in their dining
hall, between the American and English flags, may be
seen the Banner of Judah, with Hebrew inscriptions in
golden letters. How this stirs the sea of memory! That
national banner has not been unfurled for eighteen hundred
years. The last time it floated to the breeze was over the
walls of Jerusalem, besieged by Titus Vespasianus. Then,
our stars and stripes were not foreseen, even in dim shadow,
by the vision of a prophet; and here they are intertwined
together over this congress of nations!

In New-York, as elsewhere, the vending of “old clo”'
is a prominent occupation among the Jews; a fact in which
those who look for spiritual correspondences can perceive

significance; though singularly enough Sartor Resartus
makes no allusion to it, in his “Philosophy of Clothes.”
When I hear Christian ministers apologizing for slavery by
the example of Abraham, defending war, because the Lord
commanded Samuel to hew Agag in pieces, and sustaining
capital punishment by the retaliatory code of Moses, it
seems to me it would be most appropriate to have Jewish
criers at the doors of our theological schools, proclaiming
at the top of their lungs, “Old Clothes! Old Clothes!
Old Clothes all the way from Judea!”

The proverbial worldliness of the Jews, their unpoetic
avocations, their modern costume, and mechanical mode of
perpetuating ancient forms, cannot divest them of a sacred
and even romantic interest. The religious idea transmitted
by this remarkable people, has given them a more abiding
and extended influence on the world's history, than Greece
attained by her classic beauty, or Rome by her triumphant
arms. Mohammedanism and Christianity, the two forms of
theology which include nearly all the civilized world, both
grew from the stock planted by Abraham's children. On
them lingers the long-reflected light of prophecy; and we,
as well as they, are watching for its fulfilment. And verily,
all things seem tending toward it. Through all their wanderings,
they have followed the direction of Moses, to be
lenders and not borrowers. The sovereigns of Europe and
Asia, and the republics of America, are their debtors, to an
immense amount. The Rothschilds are Jews; and they
have wealth enough to purchase all Palestine if they
choose; a large part of Jerusalem is in fact mortgaged to
them. The oppressions of the Turkish government, and
the incursions of hostile tribes, have hitherto rendered
Syria an unsafe residence; but the Sultan has erected it
into an independent power, and issued orders throughout
his empire, that the Jews shall be as perfectly protected in
their religious and civil rights, as any other class of his

subjects; moreover, the present controversy between European
nations and the East seems likely to result in placing
Syria under the protection of Christian nations. It is
reported that Prince Metternich, Premier of Austria, has
determined, if possible, to constitute a Christian kingdom
out of Palestine, of which Jerusalem is to be the seat of
government. The Russian Jews, who number about
2,000,000, have been reduced to the most abject condition
by contempt and tyranny; but there, too, government is
now commencing a movement in their favour, without requiring
them to renounce their faith. As long ago as 1817
important privileges were conferred by law on those Jews
who consented to embrace Christianity. Land was gratuitously
bestowed upon them, where they settled, under the
name of The Society of Israelitish Christians.

These signs of the times cannot, of course, escape the
observation, or elude the active zeal, of Christians of the
present day. England has established many missions for
the conversion of the Jews. The Presbyterian Church of
Scotland have lately addressed a letter of sympathy and
expostulation to the scattered children of Israel, which has
been printed in a great variety of Oriental and Occidental
languages. In Upper Canada, a Society of Jews converted
to Christianity, have been organized to facilitate the
return of the wandering tribes to the Holy Land.

The Rev. Solomon Michael Alexander, a learned Rabbi,
of the tribe of Judah, has been proselyted to Christianity,
and sent to Palestine by the Church of England; being
consecrated the first Bishop of Jerusalem.

Moreover the spirit of schism appears among them. A
numerous and influential body in England have seceded,
under the name of Reformed Jews. They denounce the
Talmud as a mass of absurdities, and adhere exclusively
to the authority of Moses; whereas, orthodox Jews consider
the rabbinical writings of equal authority with the

Pentateuch. They have sent a Hebrew circular to the
Jews of this country, warning them against the seceders.
A General Convention is likewise proposed, to enable them
to draw closer the bonds of union.

What a busy, restless age is this in which we are cast!
What a difficult task for Israel to walk through its midst,
with mantles untouched by the Gentiles.