Searching for Satisfaction. Chapter 2
MY trouble of mind was such that my father desired me to give up study, and, instead, to enter upon some business pursuit. I found employment in an office, but, after some months, was constrained to tell my father and the Rabbi. I could not continue in any other work than that of God.
This pleased them much, so I began again to study the Bible every morning and evening. With much surprise I read these words of the Psalmist, “There is none that doeth good, no, not one” (53:3). This made me perfectly sure I should never go to heaven. Even the Bible informs me so, I said, for I am not righteous. I went again to my mother, begging her to tell me “what to do to be saved.” She cried bitterly, and replied, “It will be well with you, if you continue in the written and the Oral laws.”
After months of misery and despair, I became very ill and sank into despondency. In vain I sought to feel that the God of our fathers was my God and Father, and to realize His Fatherly love.
The physician who visited me thought my recovery “doubtful!” Upon hearing this my mother fell upon my bed and, with bitter lamentations, kissed me, saying, “My dear, I remember you asked me several times what to do to be saved; you also told me you were afraid to die because of your sinnership before God. How do you feel now?”
With all the energy left me I replied, “I am lost! I am lost” Then, lifting up my hands and heart to the Lord, said with the Psalmist: “Open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of Thy law” (119:18), and fell back exhausted, and unable to speak for several days and nights.
The Rabbi and others came to see me; thinking it would be the last time, they engaged in prayer, and repeated many Psalms of David, a custom generally practiced in houses of sickness.
Being able to speak a little, I said, “Pray that the Lord may open my eyes, that I may know the God of our fathers as my God, and it shall suffice me.”
The Lord heard my prayer; I began to recover, and after a few weeks was restored to health.
Then I told my father that I must leave my native land and search for, if possibly I could find, that for which my soul longed. His wishes to the contrary were of no avail, and it is impossible for me to express the determination which filled my mind.
One night, while reading the Gemara, I fell asleep, when, suddenly awaking, these words of Genesis 12:11Now the Lord had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will show thee: (Genesis 12:1) “Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will show thee” ―applied themselves to me, in such a way, that I could not possibly shake them off. So I said to my father that, with or without his permission, I must go, and if I die, I die! but I must go! Upon this he consented, praying that wherever I went the God of Israel might be with me.
In July, 1871, my father invited several friends and relations to his house, to see me before I left my home, and to join in persuading me to remain. It was a heartbreaking time, but I could only say, If I cannot go, I cannot, must not, live! Then all began to comfort me, and to wish me success in my journey. I was then sixteen years of age.
The morning of my departure came, and many assembled to bid me farewell! In the afternoon we started to the railway station some five miles off, about one hundred people following us. The eyes of my beloved mother were dim with tears, and her tenderness of heart, and the thought that I should never meet with anyone in this world with such love, filled me with grief. My father, as he bade me farewell, put his hands upon my head, and said, “May the God of Abraham, Isaac, and of Jacob, our fathers, keep and preserve thee near to His holy word, the Bible, and to the holy writings of our holy Rabbis,” and I replied, “Amen and Amen.”
The train started. The assembled friends with my most beloved father, and mother, who had a babe in her arms, lifted up their hands, and from the railway carriage I saw my mother faint away. Never shall I forget that time. I, too, fell upon the floor of the carriage fainting, but was revived by the people around; then, whilst sitting in the carriage, I lifted up my voice, and prayed unto the Lord to take me in His arms, and be my Father, Mother, Brother, and Friend, yea, my All in all.
The train brought me to the small town, Verbelow, on the Russian frontier. The boundary of Russia is here marked by a wide ditch full of water, some parts of which are shallow, while others are deep. No one is permitted to cross the boundary, unless by permission from the Government. It is the law of Russia, that whoever wishes to leave the country, must have a special passport from the chief governor of the province, and no passports are granted to young men who are not likely to return, especially if it is probable they will be wanted for the military conscription. I had no permission. When evening came on I entered the house of a Jew, and requested to be allowed to stay there the night, but the house was very small, and there was no room. They asked if I would go upon the roof to sleep, which I was glad to do.
About six o’clock in the morning, I got up, and started on my way, looking wistfully at the boundary, and at the soldiers on duty, who shoot anyone attempting to cross without permission. I hid in a cornfield for some time, and watched the soldiers, and found to my joy they had not noticed me. I took off my boots, that I might run the more quickly, and when the soldiers had gone a few yards in the opposite direction, ran with all my speed, crossed the broad ditch, and hid myself in the cornfield on the other side.
Then the soldiers caught sight of me, and fired, but I ran on through the cornfield, and escaped.
By-and-by I came to a small village in Germany, where I took the train to Köningsberg. In the carriage, a young man introduced himself to me, and appeared to be polite. We were alone, and I was weary and fell asleep. As the train neared the station, I heard the door shut, and found the young man had jumped out of the carriage. He had picked my pockets. I informed the station-master what had happened, who immediately sent off half a dozen gendarmes to search for him, and in a very short time, back came a gendarme with the thief bound on his horse. The culprit had been found sitting under a tree, counting out the money from my purse!
Having regained my money, I proceeded to Köningsberg, where I stayed a few weeks, but my soul found no satisfaction there.
From Köningsberg I went to Berlin, and wrote to my parents. My father replied, wishing me God’s blessing, and hoping that I should not go farther away.
I obtained a situation as junior clerk, in Berlin, but as the Jews in Germany are not very pious, nor so particular in their rites and worship as the Jews of Russia and Poland, I wrote to my father, informing him that I must leave that country.
“My darling child,” he replied, “I cannot tell how we feel for you. Every day your mother sheds tears, and laments because out Isaac is not with us. Dear child, we should be very thankful and unspeakably happy if you would return home. Your mother says, since her dear child has gone, the joy and comfort of her heart has departed from her.... For God’s name sake, keep the commandments very strictly―the Oral and written laws. Ma.) they be the object of your life, and your new companions. Try and keep your phylacteries perfect. And may the God of our fathers Abraham, Isaac, and of Jacob, be with you. Amen. Adieu, adieu, adieu.”
My answer was, that I felt it was not the will of God that I should stop in Germany or return to Russia. Since leaving home, I wrote I had not had one happy hour, but every night bitterly lamented the comforts left behind. But still, my letter continued, on I must go, a long journey, till the God of our fathers should satisfy my soul, adding,” Dear mother, I shall never forget you! Yea, I cannot help thinking of you every moment, and shall do so.”
I left Berlin for Hamburg on foot, desiring to see Germany, and, after walking three or four hours, I overtook two young men―one a Pole, the other a Prussian who said they were traveling to England, but intended seeing Germany, Saxony, Hanover, Brunswick, and Austria first, and with them I journeyed.
Not having passports, we were not permitted to lodge anywhere, for it was not long after the French and German war, and the inhabitants were very particular; so we slept in cornfields, or woods, or cemeteries, and often lay down weary and tired, to get up drenched with rain.
One day we came to a wood, and while I was asleep, my companions stole the money out of my pockets, took away my bundle of clothes from under my head, and left me. Not having money nor change of clothes, I did not know what to do, and, as I lifted up my face heavenward, cried unto the Lord, “Lead me in Thy truth.”
For several hours I walked straight on. Then the night came, and I was alone, weary and hungry. On, on I went in the darkness, weeping and praying, till I saw a light shining in the distance; it was a very long way off, and looked very small. I kept it before my eyes for about two hours, and then came to it. It was a candle in the window of a farmhouse.
In answer to my knock an old lady opened the door, asking who I was. “I am a poor Jew boy, going to England; I am hungry and weary; I think I am dying,” was my reply. She welcomed me in, gave me food, and a bed to sleep on, and in the morning set me on my way.
I hastened to the nearest village, which was about eighteen miles off. The piece of bread, which the kind old lady had given me was eaten, and, after some hours walking, I entered a large forest. There I met an old man, and asked him if he would give me a piece of bread. He did so with pleasure, but the bread was buttered, and, as a Jew, I would not eat butter made by Christians; so I was obliged to refuse his bounty, and had to go on, hungry as I was. After walking for about four hours more, I lost my way, and lay down in the forest, and fell asleep. When I awoke the night had come on, and I was alone in the darkness.