Scholars who know what they are after early in life are fortunate. From the start, they prepare themselves for that task, wasting no time on other things. Perhaps still more fortunate are those who don’t know what direction they will take and give their attention to whatever comes their way. When the time comes to display their wisdom, they are experts in many areas, like a landowner who knows the lay of his land. Why do I compare Neu to a landowner? While he was in that small town, he made the acquaintance of landowners who had dealings with the bank and, unlike the townspeople, invited him to their homes. He used to go with them and hear what a particular field was worth, whether or not such a plant species was productive, whether rearing livestock or producing cheese was more lucrative, what things needed to be improved, and whether the landowners were doing well with the new machinery some of them had adopted. He also heard about the workers from other countries who came to help with the harvest, whose wages seemed low but were high in the end, because of the thefts and fires that followed on their heels. He sat listening and thinking: I’m here only to learn about business and finance. Providence had other thoughts: He’s here to prepare for what he was destined to do from the beginning, to pave the way for discoveries he is destined to make. He spent even more of his time with the farmers. Until he tramped through the countryside, he was as unaware of the fields as any city person. When he began going to the country, he observed the farmers, their practices, and their conversations with their cattle and their fowl; how they tended their bees and worked their land. In this period he began to want to settle in the country, either as a farmer or a landowner, working at work time, resting at rest time, reading books and learning from the wisdom of generations, offering counsel and insight to his neighbors. He did not know then that many people would benefit from his wisdom, though not the country people he was so fond of at the beginning, when he was first moved by the spirit of enlightenment. Neu pictured his future in the country in various attractive forms. But none of his visions was fulfilled, for anyone who wants to work in agriculture must work for a farmer first. All the farmers were gentile, because only Gentiles could own land, so kosher food would be unavailable. Even if he were to find kosher food somehow, his parents would never allow their son to become a farmer.
After two years in a small town, it was time for advancement. He was about to be promoted to a high position in a large city. Not only was he himself unhappy, but he made his father and mother sad by asking something no one in the Neu family had ever asked. He wanted to enroll in the university. When his grandfather heard this, he said, “I thought he was talented, and now I hear he wants to enroll in the university!” Upon being told that he was truly talented, the old man said, “Then why does he need the university? Let him leave academic learning to mediocre people. Those with real talent deal in commerce or banking.” To appease his father, Neu chose medicine, a field that offers financial security.
I will pause to say something about the Neu family. All the members of the house of Neu loved the Torah, promoted learning, cherished the rabbinate, patronized Jewish and secular studies, and subsidized needy students. One such student lived in their home, so they could study with him in their spare time. They provided him with room and board, and treated him with more respect than they treated rich men. But they never produced a rabbi or a scholar; nor did their daughters marry rabbis or scholars. The first member of the family to turn to philosophy or science was Alfred Neu, who enrolled in the university to study medicine. But he didn’t become a doctor.
Medical school is a full-time occupation. Nevertheless, this eager scholar managed to pursue other subjects. He became an expert in some of them, so inventive that he was considered a leader in the field. Before achieving what he achieved, Alfred Neu traversed a long and devious road. The details are known and preserved in monographs and encyclopedias, so there is no reason for me to dwell on them. I might as well get back to Herbst’s story. If, in the course of it, it becomes necessary to return to Neu, I will do so. But not at any length.
After reading Neu’s book, Herbst placed his hand on it, as if it were a rare find which he was determined to hold on to. He sat and wondered: How does one arrive at such verbal clarity and simplicity, at the ability to express such mysteries so that they appear obvious, when the fact is that, until Neu revealed them, they were opaque and scholars were unaware of them?
Herbst enumerated some of Neu’s sources — fragments of myth, snatches of melody, jumbled proverbs, isolated phrases, magical incantations, legal pronouncements. Such material, unnoticed by other researchers, provided Neu with access to hidden worlds, which he delivered from the abyss of neglect. What was the state of this material before Neu began to deal with it? It was a battered, disjointed mess. Every generation tampered with it, abridging and emending according to its needs, so that its original form was no longer apparent. And what generations did to serve their needs, some researchers did to serve their theories. Neu arrived on the scene and cleaned up everything. Now everyone knows and recognizes this material; everyone is familiar with it. But, until Neu made it accessible, it remained unknown.
Herbst was moved to tears by the modesty of true scholars who work a lifetime to uncover deeply hidden material that becomes general knowledge, so general that those who discovered and revealed it are forgotten. Taking no notice of this, they work on tirelessly, unstintingly, incessantly, with no thought of reward. Herbst went back to the page he had stopped at, bent its corner, and reread the preceding pages. He was astonished. He had read the book and knew what was in it; still, he found things there that he hadn’t noticed earlier. Again Herbst asked himself: How does one arrive at this? How can such great and sublime ideas be expressed in such simple, graceful language? Herbst listed some of the ideas that were basic to Neu’s theory. The actual life and thought of early man, whose existence we were barely aware of, were outlined in the book. Future generations will surely come up with new and more precise facts, but it is clear that they will follow the path laid out in Neu’s books. They will have insights about things Neu never dreamed of, they will challenge some of Neu’s assumptions, but his basic theories will remain intact. Like a mountain, his research will not totter. Neu didn’t rely on anyone else’s work, having arrived at his discoveries on his own. Nevertheless, he gave others credit, beyond what they deserved. Only someone with great scope could have written with such vigor and so lucidly. Not many scholars were able to express their teaching in such terms, concentrating on the essentials without overemphasizing them and playing down the trivial without minimizing whatever quality it had.