Judaism. The Sabbath with its ethical and social content, the holiness of life, the social ideal of the triumph of justice, Messianism, the idea of mankind, the rationalistic God-conception, are the substance of Judaism. It is a new and more philosophical edition of the Judaism of Moses Hess which lacks, however, the political deductions which the great Jewish socialist drew from his noble conception of Judaism.
In this conception of Judaism, Zionism can find its highest justification. If the Jews are a leading nation in the world, if Judaism is a cultural force, a creative idea in the world, the Jewish nation must not only exist but must also rejuvenate itself, organize itself politically. The highest conception of Judaism is the strongest motive for Zionism, besides the economical and social motives which have only a transitory character.
Judaism is, in this conception, a great heroic effort, a message and a mission. Judaism has lost in modern times its force to proselytize, as it became, through the assimilation movement, an anachronic tradition. The objection that Max Müller made against Judaism long ago as being inert, without the missionary spirit, is really a moral annihilation of Judaism. If Judaism is a force and a truth in modern culture, it must have the courage to proclaim its superiority. But because Judaism is now a heroic effort, it contains in itself the possibilities of degradation and historical demolition. That is the tragedy of modern Judaism. But once more the Jew must remember the word of the prophet:
"Behold, I give thee the way of life and the way of death, and thou shalt choose the life."
She Sang to Me a Melody
She sang to me a melodyOne tender summer eve,That with the haze of city soundsDid wonderfully weave—And then our little garret roomI straightway seemed to leave.
I soared above the mountain-cloudsAnd looking down beheldA great and dark procession moveThat ever rose and swelled,And like a human chain it seemedThe two horizons to weld
And to the mountain tops they raisedTheir eyes deep-sunk with griefAnd from the depths in yearning roseA prayer mute and brief,—The age-long query mutely rose:"Oh whence will come relief!"
She sang the plaintive melodyIn accents low and sweet;The brooding twilight glided softAnd shadowed our retreat,—And oh! how strained my heaving heartTo burst with ev'ry beat.....