CHAPTER XI.
ZENITH OF THE SPANISH-JEWISH CULTURE: JEHUDA HALEVI
The Jews under the Almoravides – Joseph Ibn-Sahal, Joseph Ibn-Zadik – Joseph Ibn-Migash – The Poets Ibn-Giat, Ibn-Abbas, Ibn-Sakbel and Ibn-Ezra – Abulhassan Jehuda Halevi – His Poems and Philosophy – The Chozari – Incidents of his Life – Prince Samuel Almansur – Jehuda Halevi's Pilgrimage to Jerusalem – His Death.
1105–1148 C. E
The Jews of Spain, even those of Andalusia, could still consider this land of culture as their home. Even under the barbarous Almoravides, who had become masters of the south, they lived in security and peace, for these people were no fanatics. Only on one occasion did a prince of the Almoravides, named Yussuf Ibn-Teshufin, attempt to compel the Jews of his district to accept Islam. He was traveling through Lucena, and noted the populous Jewish community, which through Alfassi had become the most influential in Spain. The prince called together the representatives of the Jews, and announced to them that he had read that Mahomet had bestowed religious liberty on the Jews on condition that their expected Messiah should arrive within 500 years, and that if this space of time after the Hejira passed without his appearance, the Jews must, without opposition, accept Mahometanism; that the Jews of Mahomet's age had accepted the condition, and the time having now elapsed, he (Yussuf Ibn-Teshufin), the leader of the Faithful, expected them to fulfil the condition, or his protection would be withdrawn from them, and they would be outlawed. The Jews of Lucena, however, by gifts of money and through the intercession of his wise vizir, Abdallah Ibn-Allah, induced Yussuf to alter his intention.
Under the second ruler of the Almoravide dynasty, Ali (1106–1143), the Jews not only lived in peace, but some of them were entrusted with the collection of the poll-tax from Jewish and Christian inhabitants, and distinguished men received posts of honor at the court. Science and poetry were the qualifications for high dignities. A Jewish physician and poet, Abu Ayub (Solomon Ibn-Almuallem), of Seville, was the court-physician of the Caliph Ali, and bore the titles of prince and vizir. Alcharizi says that his verses rendered eloquent the lips of the dumb, and illuminated the eyes of the blind. The physician Abulhassan Abraham ben Meïr Ibn-Kamnial, of Saragossa, likewise occupied a high post at Ali's court, and also bore the title of vizir. The greatest poets of the time celebrated his nobility of soul, his generosity and his interest in the welfare of his co-religionists: "A prince who treads the earth, but whose aim is in the stars. He hastens like the lightning to do good, whilst others only creep along. The gates of his generosity are open to his compatriots and to strangers. Through his fortune he saved those doomed to death, and rescued the lives of those doomed to destruction. The prince (Ibn-Kamnial) is a protection and a guard unto his people; he dwells in Spain, but his loving-kindness reaches unto Babylon and Egypt." Abu Ishak Ibn-Mohajar also bore the title of vizir, and was similarly immortalized by the poets. The prince Solomon Ibn-Farussal, likewise praised by his contemporaries, appears to have been in the service of a Christian prince, and was entrusted with an embassy to the court of Murcia. Shortly before the battle of Ucles, at which the Mahometan forces obtained a signal victory over those of the Christians, Ibn-Farussal was murdered (1108, 20th Iyar – 2nd May). The young Jehuda Halevi, who had composed a song of praise for the reception of the vizir, had to change it into an elegy on the mournful news of the vizir's murder.
An astronomical writer, Abraham ben Chiya Albargeloni (b. 1065, d. 1136), occupied a high position under another Mahometan prince. He was a sort of minister of police (Zachib as-Schorta), and bore the title of prince. He was held in high consideration by several rulers on account of his astronomical knowledge, and he debated with learned priests, to whom he demonstrated the accuracy of the Jewish calendar. But he also practised the pseudo-science of astrology, and drew a horoscope of favorable and unfavorable hours of the day. He calculated in the same way that the Messiah would appear in the year 5118 of the world (1358 C. E.).
Thus men of influence and knowledge were not wanting at this period in Spain, but none of them acted as a center, like Chasdaï Ibn-Shaprut and Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, from which might go forth the impetus that would rouse to activity slumbering talents, or mark out the road for literary efforts. The first half of the twelfth century produced a vast number of clever men in Jewish circles, poets, philosophers, Talmudists, and almost all their labors bore the stamp of perfection. The Jewish culture of this period resembled a garden, rich in odorous blossoms and luscious fruits, whose productions, though varied in color and taste, have their root in the same earth. The petty jealousy that rendered Menachem ben Saruk and Ibn-Gebirol unhappy, the inimical feelings existing between Ibn-Janach and Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, between Alfassi and Ibn-Albalia, were banished from this circle. The poets eulogized each other, and cordially praised the men that devoted their powers to other intellectual work. They took the greatest interest in one another's successes, consoled one another in misfortune, and regarded one another as members of one family. The cordial feeling which Jewish poets and men of learning entertained for one another is the completest testimony to their nobility of mind.
It is difficult in a history of these times to record and describe all the important personages. There were seven distinguished rabbis in this period, almost all disciples of Alfassi, who, besides studying Talmud, showed taste for poetry and science, and in part devoted themselves to these pursuits. In Cordova, Joseph ben Jacob Ibn-Sahal (born 1070, died 1124), a disciple of Ibn-Giat, was the rabbi. He appears to have met with trouble in his youth, and in his verses he complains that his own efforts have lacked appreciation, and that poetry in general is not honored. To Moses Ibn-Ezra, who was his bosom friend, he wrote a versified letter of lamentation. Ibn-Ezra, who also craved sympathy, consoled him in a poem written in the same rhyme and meter as Ibn-Sahal's. The verses are easy, flowing and smooth, though without much depth.
His successor in the rabbinate of Cordova, Abu-Amr Joseph ben Zadik Ibn-Zadik (born in 1080, died 1148–49), was even more celebrated. Although Ibn-Zadik is known as an expert Talmudist, his works are not Talmudic, but consist of philosophical treatises in the Arabic language. Ibn-Zadik dedicated his religio-philosophical work (Microcosmos) to a disciple who had asked to be instructed about the greatest good for which man can strive. The thoughts developed by Ibn-Zadik are by no means new, they were current in the Arabic philosophy of the times, but were modified by him so as to fit into the system of Judaism. Knowledge of self leads to knowledge of God, to a pure conception of the God-idea, and to the recognition that the world was created out of nothing by the divine will. This will is contained in Revelation, in the Torah; God revealed it to man, not on His own account, for He is rich, sufficient unto Himself, and without wants, but to promote man's happiness in the world beyond. The first duty of man, of the Jew, the servant of God, is to cultivate his mind and acquire wisdom and understanding, so that he may honor God in a worthy and spiritual manner, and gain the bliss of future happiness. Ibn-Zadik also remarks that the rites of Judaism, such as the observance of the Sabbath, are consonant with sense and divine wisdom. Man having free will, it is natural that God should mete out to him reward and punishment for his actions. The reward of the soul is its return to its source, the universal soul, and the only conceivable punishment is the sinful soul's failure to attain this end. The soul of the sinner, stained with earthly failings, cannot wing its flight to heaven, but flutters without rest about the world; and this is its punishment. Ibn-Zadik's philosophical work, bearing the stamp of mediocrity, was but little noticed by his contemporaries and successors. His fame as a poet was not great, although his liturgical and other verses are light and pleasing. They are not the outpourings of a poetic soul, but are to some extent a tribute to fashion.
Joseph ben Meïr Ibn-Migash Halevi (born 1077, died 1141) surpassed his contemporaries in mastery of the Talmud. Grandson of an important man at the court of the Abbadides in Seville, and son of a learned father, he became in his twelfth year a disciple of the school of Alfassi, whose lectures he attended uninterruptedly for fourteen years. When Ibn-Migash married (in 1100), Jehuda Halevi composed a glowing epithalamium for the young couple. Before his death Alfassi chose him as his successor, and by that act showed the nobility of his character; for although he left behind him a learned son, he preferred as his successor his gifted disciple. The wisdom of choosing a young man of six-and-twenty seems to have been questioned by some of the members of the congregation (Sivan, May, 1103). Joseph Ibn-Migash deserved the praise lavished on him for his intellectual and moral qualities. His descent from an ancient and noble family, his high position as chief of the most respected community, did not affect his modesty, nor did the dignity of his important office strip him of his humility. Mild, however, as was his character, he employed the utmost severity when the welfare of Judaism was in question.
Spain was at this time in an excited state, and split up into parties. In Andalusia the native Arabs were opposed to the victorious Almoravide Berbers, and they attacked each other in secret and in open war; the Christians (the Mozarabs) settled in the neighborhood of Granada conspired secretly against their Mahometan landlords, and summoning the conqueror of Saragossa, Alfonso of Aragon, promised to hand Granada over to him. Christian Spain was no less divided, though Castile and Aragon ought to have been united through the marriage of Alfonso of Aragon and Urraca, Queen of Castile. This unhappy marriage was the cause of anarchy. One party sided with the king, another with the queen, and a third with the young prince Alfonso VII, whose teacher had incited him against his mother and stepfather. Christians and Mahometans were frequently seen fighting under one standard, sometimes against a Christian prince, sometimes against a Mahometan emir. The making and breaking of treaties followed each other in quick succession. Deception and treachery occurred continually, and even the clergy of high position passed from party to party, and fought their former allies, or assisted their former enemies.
The Jews of Spain did not remain neutral, and either willingly or perforce joined the one or the other party, as their interests or political opinions dictated. When Mahometans or Christians conspired, they could, in case of discovery, take refuge with their powerful co-religionists. The Jews, however, did not enjoy such protection, and could only hold together for safety. Treachery in their midst was, therefore, most disastrous for them, as the anger of the enraged rulers not only struck the conspirators or their congregation, but the entire Jewish population of the country. When, therefore, a member of the congregation of Lucena on one occasion threatened to betray his co-religionists, the rabbi and judge, Joseph Ibn-Migash, determined to make an example of him. He condemned the traitor to be stoned to death at twilight on the Day of Atonement. Joseph Ibn-Migash left a learned son, Meïr (1144), and a large circle of disciples, amongst whom was Maimun of Cordova, whose son was destined to begin a new era in Jewish history.
In the measure in which the study of the Talmud in Spain grew, Bible exegesis and the study of Hebrew grammar declined. These branches were arrested in their development. But on the other hand, this period was rich in poets. The Hebrew language, during the two centuries since Ben-Labrat, had become smooth and pliable, so that it was no difficult matter to make verses, and employ rhyme and meter. The involved forms developed especially by Solomon Ibn-Gebirol found many imitators. The Arabic custom of writing letters of friendship in verses, adopted by the Spanish Jews, made a knowledge of prosody a necessity: he who did not desire to appear illiterate had to learn how to versify. The number of poems which at this period saw the light of day was legion. Amongst poets worthy of record, who also occupied themselves with matters other than poetry, were Judah Ibn-Giat, Judah Ibn-Abbas, Solomon Ibn-Sakbel, and the brothers Ibn-Ezra. They were all surpassed by the prince of poets, Jehuda Halevi, recognized even by his contemporaries as a master of song.
Solomon ben Sakbel, a relative of Rabbi Joseph Ibn-Sahal, unlike Ibn-Giat and Ibn-Abbas, whose muse was serious, used the Hebrew language for light love-verses. The new form of poetry introduced by the Arabic poet, Hariri of Basra, induced Ibn-Sakbel to make a similar attempt in the Hebrew language; he wrote a kind of satirical romance, called Tachkemoni, the hero of which, Asher ben Jehuda, is exposed to disappointments and vicissitudes. The hero tells his adventures in rhymed prose, interspersed with verses; he relates how, together with his love, he had passed a long time in the forest depths, until, tired of the monotony, he longed to join a circle of friends who passed their time in feasting. Attracted by the letter of some unknown fair one, he set out to find her, and was introduced into a harem, the master of which, with grim "Berber mien," threatened him with death. This, however, was only a mask assumed by the maid of his lady-love in order to frighten him. At length he had hopes of attaining his end, but when he meets the supposed mistress, he finds the entire affair to have been the joke of a friend. This poem has no artistic merit, and is only an imitation of his Arab model. The ease with which Ibn-Sakbel employs the Hebrew language, and the skill with which he combines profoundly serious reflections with the lightest banter, are the only features to be admired.
The four brothers Ibn-Ezra, of Granada, were richly endowed; they were noble, learned, and wealthy. Their names were Abu-Ibrahim Isaac, Abu-Harun Moses, Abulhassan Jehuda, and Abuhajaj Joseph, the youngest. Their father Jacob had occupied an office under King Habus, or rather under his vizir, Ibn-Nagrela. One might know by their noble character, said a contemporary historian, that these four princely sons of Ibn-Ezra were of David's blood and of ancient lineage. The most celebrated amongst them was Abu-Harun Moses (born 1070, died 1139), who boasted that he was the pupil of his eldest brother. He was the most prolific poet of his time.
A misfortune seems to have aroused his muse. He loved his niece, by whom he was loved in return. The brother, however, refused to give him his daughter, and the other brothers approved the decision. Moses fled from his father's house, and wandered to Portugal and Castile (1100). He was tortured by pangs of love, and time did not heal his wounds. False friends seem to have widened the breach between him and his brothers. His love found expression in verses, and the muse became his comforter. He sought to drown his sorrow in earnest study and to find in knowledge a solace for the loss of his brothers and his beloved. He indeed won friends and admirers who remained true to him until death. A man of high position in Christian Spain, who is represented as a benefactor of the Jews, took an interest in the unhappy Moses, on whom he bestowed his friendship. Moses Ibn-Ezra in many respects resembled Solomon Ibn-Gebirol. He also complained of deception and jealousy and of the hardships and faithlessness of the times. Like the poet of Malaga, his own emotions inspire him; there is no great aim in his poetic effusions. But Moses Ibn-Ezra was neither so tender nor so impressionable as Ibn-Gebirol, nor was he so sad or complaining, but at times sang lively songs, and dallied with the muse. He was far behind Ibn-Gebirol as a poet. His poetry was labored and stilted, his verses often hard, without sweetness and freshness, and neither rhythmical nor harmonious. Moses Ibn-Ezra was especially fond of using words of the same sound, with different and often opposite meaning, a habit which he had adopted from the Arabic poets. His command of the Hebrew language, the abundance of his poetical works, and the variety of meters with which he enriched Hebrew poetry are alike admirable. He composed a song-cycle, which he called a string of pearls, composed of 1210 verses in ten divisions; they were dedicated to his patron Ibn-Kamnial. These verses are as varied in form as in contents. The poet in this collection alternately sings the praise of wine, love, and joy, of voluptuous life amidst leafy bowers and the song of birds, complains of the separation from friends, of faithlessness and the approach of old age, incidentally recommends trust in God, and lastly, praises the art of poetry. Moses Ibn-Ezra also composed three hundred poems, in more than ten thousand verses, for special occasions, and also two hundred prayers for New Year and the Day of Atonement, portions of which were incorporated in the ritual of many congregations (of the communities of Spain, Montpellier, Avignon, and of the Romagnoles). But few of his religious poems have true poetic fervor; they are all composed according to the rules of the art, but true beauty is wanting. Moses Ibn-Ezra wrote, in Arabic, a dissertation on the rules of the poetic art, called "Conversations and Recollections," which at the same time is a sort of history of Spanish-Jewish poetry from its first beginnings. This work, dealing also with Arabic and Castilian poetry, is a treasure for the literary history of Spain. The poorest work of Moses Ibn-Ezra is his so-called philosophical treatise, written in Hebrew, wherein he expounds the barren philosophy of the times according to Arabic models.
Notwithstanding his comparative insignificance as a philosopher and his mediocrity as a poet, Moses Ibn-Ezra was held in high honor by his contemporaries on account of his facility in writing. He stood on a friendly footing with all important personages of the time, and they praised him in prose and verse, and he likewise praised them. He became reconciled to his brothers, when the love of his youth died in giving birth to a boy (1114). On her deathbed she spoke of him, and her words, which became a holy remembrance to him, inspired him to write an elegy which, imbued with true feeling, was far more poetical than his other works. This elegy Moses Ibn-Ezra sent to his eldest brother, and it was the first step toward their reconciliation. As his brothers departed this earth one by one, the survivor was overwhelmed with grief, and dedicated to their memory verses full of feeling. Moses Ibn-Ezra retained his poetic gift until a great age. Jehuda Halevi wrote a touching tribute to his memory.
The brilliant luminary of this period and its chief exponent was Abulhassan Jehuda ben Samuel Halevi (Ibn-Allevi), born in Old Castile in 1086. In the annals of mankind his name deserves a separate page with a golden border. To describe him worthily, history would need to borrow from poetry her most glowing colors and her sweetest tones. Jehuda Halevi was one of the chosen, to whom the expression, "an image of God," may be applied without exaggeration. He was a perfect poet, a perfect thinker, a worthy son of Judaism, which, through his poetry and thought, was ennobled and idealized.
When Spain shall have discarded its prejudices, and shall no longer estimate the greatness of its historical personages by the standard of the Church, then Jehuda Halevi will occupy a place of honor in its Pantheon. The Jewish nation has long since crowned him with the laurel-wreath of poetry, and recognized the wealth of piety and pure morality that he possessed.
"Pure and faithful, ever spotless
Was his song, even as his soul was:
Soul, that when the Maker fashioned,
With his handiwork delighted,
Straight he kissed the beauteous spirit;
And that kiss, in sweetest music
Echoing, thrills through all the singing
Of the poet consecrated."1
His deep moral earnestness was closely united with a cheerful, serene philosophy of life. The admiration which was showered upon him did not destroy his modesty, and despite his devotion to his friends, he still preserved his own peculiar characteristics and the independence of his views. His rich store of knowledge clustered about one center, and however great a poet, in the best sense of the word, he may have been, he was keenly conscious of his own feelings, thoughts, and actions. He prescribed rules for himself, and remained true to them. Deep as were his sentiments, he was far from excess of feeling, or sentimentality.
Jehuda Halevi's biography contains little that is extraordinary. Born in Christian Spain, he attended the college of Alfassi at Lucena, because Castile and the north of Spain were still wanting in Talmudical scholars. When but a youth, as in the case of Ibn-Gebirol, the muse aroused him; not, however, as the latter, with mournful tones, but with pure, joyous strains. He celebrated in song the happy experiences of his friends and comrades, the nuptials of Ibn-Migash, the birth of the first-born in the house of Baruch Ibn-Albalia (about 1100). Fortune smiled upon this favorite of the muses from his youth, and no harsh discord ever issued from his poetical heart. In the south of Spain he became acquainted with the noble and cultured family of Ibn-Ezra. When he learnt that Moses Ibn-Ezra had met with a disappointment in love, and had exiled himself, the young poet sought out his older brother-poet to comfort and soothe him with his songs. The latter, struck with surprise at Jehuda's beautiful verses and overflowing sentiments, answered him in poetic productions.
Jehuda Halevi appears to have been in Lucena when Alfassi died, and Joseph Ibn-Migash succeeded him in the office of rabbi (1103). On the occasion of his death Halevi composed a beautiful elegy, and celebrated the accession of his successor in a poem expressing his homage and deep respect. The young man also experienced the pleasure and the pain of love; he sang of the gazelle-like eyes of his beloved, her rosy lips, her raven hair. He complained of her unfaithfulness and of the wounds which rent his heart. His amatory poems breathe the fire of youth, and display rash impetuousness. The southern skies were portrayed in his verses, the green meadows and the blue streams. His early poetry even bears the stamp of artistic polish, of rich fancy and beautiful symmetry, of warmth and loveliness. There is no mere jingle of words, no thoughtless utterance – all manifests harmony and firmness of touch. Jehuda Halevi appears to have completely suppressed the pangs of love, for no traces whatever are to be found thereof in his later life and poems.
Jehuda Halevi not only completely mastered the Hebrew language and the artistic forms of the neo-Hebraic poetry, but he also obtained a thorough knowledge of the Talmud, studied the natural sciences, penetrated even to the depths of metaphysics, and was skilled in all branches of learning. He wrote Arabic elegantly, and was conversant with the new-born Castilian poetry. He obtained a livelihood as a physician, practising medicine on his return to his native place. He appears to have been highly esteemed for his medical skill, for on one occasion he wrote to a friend that, living in a large town, he was busily engaged in the practice of his art. But, in spite of his constant care for the bodies of the sick and the dying, he did not forget his own soul, but ever maintained the ideals of his life. The following letter which, when advanced in years (about 1130), he wrote to a friend, is interesting:
"I occupy myself in the hours which belong neither to the day nor to the night, with the vanity of medical science, although I am unable to heal. The city in which I dwell is large, the inhabitants are giants, but they are cruel rulers. Wherewith could I conciliate them better than by spending my days in curing their illness! I physic Babel, but it continues infirm. I cry to God that He may quickly send deliverance unto me, and give me freedom, to enjoy rest, that I may repair to some place of living knowledge, to the fountain of wisdom."
The city of which Jehuda here speaks is Toledo, where he passed the years of his manhood. He longed, however, to depart thence, as Toledo had not yet become a center of Jewish learning.
The whole power of his creative genius was bestowed upon the art of poetry and a thoughtful investigation of Judaism. He had a more correct conception of poetry, which he valued as something holy and God-given, than had his Arab and Jewish contemporaries. He distinctly enunciated the view that the faculty for composing poetry must be innate, original, not acquired. He mocked at those who laid down laws about meter and rhyme, and were very precise on those points. The truly inspired poet carries the laws within him, and will never be guilty of any blunders or inaccuracies. As long as he was young, he dissipated the gold of his rich poetry on light, flimsy themes, and following the example of others, wrote sparkling lyrics, in which he glorified his numerous friends. He sang of wine and pleasure, and composed riddles. When his friends rebuked him for this conduct (about 1110), he retorted in youthful insolence,
"Shall one whose years scarce number twenty-four,
Turn foe to pleasure and drink wine no more?"
In these poetic trifles, it delighted him to display his skill in overcoming the difficulties of elaborate and involved meters. Very often he concluded a poem with an Arabic or a Castilian verse. One recognizes in the words and the structure the great master who had the power of presenting a complete picture by a few bold strokes of the pen. His delineations of nature may be placed side by side with the best poetical productions of all languages. We see the flowers bursting forth and blooming; we inhale in deep draughts the balm with which his verse is impregnated. The boughs bend beneath the burden of their golden fruit; we hear the songsters of the air pouring forth their sweet strains of love; he paints sunshine and the pure air with a masterly hand. When he is describing the turbulence of a tempest-tossed sea, he communicates to the reader all the emotions of sublimity and anxiety which he himself felt. But in all this the working of his great soul is not revealed; it was, in a measure, only the tribute which he paid to its human part and to the fashion of the time. Not even his religious poems, which in number were not exceeded by those of his older fellow-poet, Moses Ibn-Ezra, for they amount to three hundred, but which in depth, heartfelt fervor and polish, surpass his as well as those of other predecessors, disclose the true greatness of his poetical genius.
The importance of Jehuda Halevi as a poet lies in those poems that breathe a national-religious spirit. In these his ideas burst from the depths of his heart, his whole being rises upwards in ecstasy, and when he sings of Zion and its past and future glory, when he veils his head in mourning over its present slavery, we find the true spirit of his poetry, nothing artificial or simulated, but all pervaded by strong feeling. In all neo-Hebraic poetry Jehuda Halevi's songs of Zion may best be compared with the Psalms. When he is breathing forth his laments for Zion's widowhood, or dreaming of her future splendor, and depicts how she will again be united to her God and her children, we fancy that we are listening to one of the sons of Korah. The muse of Jehuda Halevi, in her maturity, had a lofty purpose; it was to sing of Israel, his God and the sanctuary, his past and his future, and to lament his humiliation. He was a national poet, and hence it is that his songs seize upon the reader with irresistible force. The complaints of Ibn-Gebirol about his own deserted condition can arouse only faint interest; the sufferings of Moses Ibn-Ezra on account of his unfortunate love leave us unaffected; but the affliction of Jehuda Halevi on account of his dearly beloved Zion cannot fail to move every susceptible heart.
The national poetry of Jehuda Halevi is of higher value, since it has its source not in mere poetical sentiments, but in earnest and impassioned conviction. He was not only the perfect poet, he was also the brilliant thinker; in him feeling and thought were completely blended. Poetry and philosophy were intimately united within him, neither being strange, borrowed, or artificially acquired, but each being an innate possession. Just as he gave expression to the national feelings of Israel in his songs of Zion, so he interpreted, if one may say so, the national thoughts of Judaism in an ingenious and spiritual manner. Poetry and philosophy were employed by him only to glorify and spiritualize the inheritance of Israel. He propounded original ideas on the relation of God and the world, of man to his Creator, on the value of metaphysical speculation, of its connection with Judaism, and on the importance of this religion as contrasted with Christianity and Islam. All these problems he solved not in a dry, scholastic fashion, but in a lively, interesting, and convincing manner. If in his lyrics we may liken him to a son of Korah, in the development of his thoughts he resembles the author of Job, but he is richer in matter, more profound, more comprehensive. From Job or from Plato, Jehuda Halevi borrowed the form in which his religious philosophical system is presented. He expounds his thoughts in the form of a dialogue, and like the author of Job, combines them with an historic fact, thus giving more intense interest to the theme, and conveying a lasting impression. When certain of his disciples asked him how he could defend rabbinical Judaism, and how reply to the objections hurled against it by philosophy, Christianity, Islam and the Karaites, he produced his answer in a comprehensive, erudite work in the form of a dialogue written in elegant Arabic. As its title denotes, the book was intended to demonstrate the truth of Judaism and to justify the despised religion.