Another notable aspect of Neu’s book: it exemplified the ideal old man who has acquired wisdom without proclaiming himself a paragon and declaring, “See how great I am.” Once again Herbst’s eyes filled with tears, because of Neu, because of his wisdom, because of his discoveries, and because of what others could discover as a result of his discoveries. How did Neu merit this? Through his own talent and the relentless pursuit of essential truth, not to mention the influence of the quarry whence he was hewed. This scholar, descended from merchants and bankers, knows how to calculate the past, like a trustworthy treasurer who can account for every cent he takes in and pays out. He has no patience with faulty estimates, invalid hunches, hollow verbiage, or certainties that shift in response to convenience. The entire book is considered, accurate, balanced. Like a large coin that can be exchanged for several smaller ones, his conclusions can be expressed in lower terms, and, like small coins with which small things are acquired, Neu’s remarks help scholars to acquire basic knowledge. The nations of the world characterize Jews as merchants whose entire existence depends on coins. What Israel’s enemies consider corrupt, we regard as virtue. Since Jews deal in currency, they become experts, buying and selling with the finest coinage. I will depart from the role of narrator and inject a word of my own. How is it that all of Professor Neu’s research is accurate and true? It’s because he is descended from proper God-fearing Jews, as meticulous in minor observances as in more stringent ones, knowing their Creator tolerates no deceit. Having learned to be meticulous with His commandments, they learned to be meticulous, whatever they do. Professor Neu follows his ancestors’ ways, and their merit sustains him.
As thoughts sometimes do, Herbst’s thoughts wandered, touching on Neu’s visit to this country. The days were especially beautiful, typical of the weeks between Purim and Passover in the Land of Israel. The earth put forth grass. All the mountains, hills, valleys, and hollows were filled with soft vegetation and the scents of green freshness. Even the aged rocks had buds in their crevices. The sky arched high and blue over everything, with good smells emanating from the earth and the heavens, from above and below. Look down, and a fine smell wafts upward; look up, and a fine scent drifts down from the sky. Between the earth and the sky, new birds dart from tree to tree, from branch to branch, testing their voices in a new song. Not to mention the dove from the Song of Songs by King Solomon, peace be with him, as in the verse: “The voice of the turtle dove was heard in our land.”
Like the two-legged creatures above, a host of four-legged creatures — land animals, intimate with the earth — respond with mounting exhilaration. Their voices are renewed when they see the bountiful nourishment provided by the One who provides for all His creatures. They are no longer dependent on their human masters. As they roam about, sniffing the ground, the food seems to reach their mouth with hardly any effort, for the land is generous to all creatures and favors them in every way. This is really how it is. Even thorns and thistles, created because of a snake, are adorned with buds and flowers, and are soft and pleasant in the days between Purim and Passover. This is not surprising, for Israel was redeemed in the month of Nisan, and, every year at that time, it’s as if Israel’s redemption were being considered again and again, and as if, knowing this, all creatures were on their best behavior, so that, should Israel be deemed worthy, they too would be redeemed. Already goats and sheep — ewes and kids — dot the landscape with their wool. Though we resent them for destroying gardens and flowers we have labored over, we cherish them in this season and enjoy watching them frolic. Even more so the cows, who are led out of the barns to graze. The meadow gives off the smell of milk, and a small boy leads the cows. If I’m not mistaken, he is the son of a Hasid from Galicia who abandoned his father and mother, his rebbe, and his entire community to go to the Land of Israel, acquired a small plot of land in one of Jerusalem’s neighborhoods, and bought one cow, then another and still another, all of whom give milk. At first, when there was peace in the land, Henrietta Herbst used to get milk from those cows, praising its quality and exclaiming over its cream content. Now that the roads are dangerous and Jews no longer show themselves in Arab neighborhoods, Henrietta gets her milk from some other source and no longer exclaims over the cream. At first, when that Hasid abandoned his rich family, his rebbe, and the entire community, his parents were in mourning, the rabbi spoke of him harshly, and everyone mocked him. Now that Hitler is in power, claiming their wealth and then their lives, they all want to come to the Land of Israel. What deters them? The law deters them. Not only in the lands of exile is that law wielded against them, but in the Land of Israel as well. That land, created for Israel’s sake, is governed by strangers who will not allow Jews in.
Back to Neu when he was in the Land of Israel.
The city is full of tourists. They come from every country.
They walk from place to place, astonished by Jerusalem’s splendor, the good Lord having filled it, from earth to high heaven, with astounding beauty. Despite the ugly houses, Jerusalem is lovely. At regular intervals the Lord cuts a hole in the sky, as it were, extracts some clouds — blue, purple, and all the other fine colors mentioned in the Bible — and decorates His city with them. Just as heaven and earth, cattle, animals, birds, trees, and rocks are a delight, so are human beings, especially our people Israel, when they see the Lord’s works and wonders — how He arranges time, shifts seasons, dispels chill, and provides warmth. Just as He dispelled the chill of winter, its winds and storms, bringing light and joy in their place, so will He soon dispel our exile and bring on true redemption.
I have been somewhat distracted by love of Jerusalem and the prospect of redemption. Now I’ll get back to Neu when he was a guest in this country. What a sight that old man was, at his age, skipping up mountains and leaping over hills to see the sun rise or the moon set. He made a point of going to different synagogues for morning and evening prayers, to get to know the customs of every community; wherever he prayed, it was clear that their God and his were one. I don’t know Neu’s views about race. In any case, seeing this wise man from the west among brothers from the east, north, and south, one would have to acknowledge that all of Israel is descended from a single father. Once, Herbst accompanied Neu to the Western Wall. On the way, Herbst told Neu that the stones meant nothing to him. When they reached the wall and he watched Neu studying those stones, Herbst’s eyes filled with tears. To this day, when he remembers that scene, he comes close to tears. Herbst, as you know, is not observant and remains remote from most things that arouse the hearts of the devout. But Herbst admires his teacher, and, whatever Neu does, he accepts. Often, when he watched him pray, he felt like joining in; had he known the prayers, he would have prayed too.
Neu’s visit was wonderful. Herbst was with Neu all the time, in Jerusalem and everywhere else. Finally, when it was time for Neu to leave, he came to Herbst’s house to say goodbye and didn’t find him in. Herbst missed the opportunity to welcome his teacher to his home before his departure. When he came, he came with his young relative, Lisbet Neu. Lisbet had accompanied him to help him find the place. Neu may have brought her along with some other intention. Perhaps he hoped to give her entry to his pupil’s home, in order to expand her horizons beyond those of the new immigrants, Orthodox Jews from Germany, whose world is circumscribed, who don’t see past their own four cubits. Some days later, Herbst called on Ernst Weltfremdt, who had just become a professor, and found two ladies there, one young, one old. One of them was Lisbet Neu; the other was her mother. Now he himself is in line for a promotion, and unless there is significant opposition, he may well be appointed professor, as he had been appointed lecturer when the university trustees asked Neu to recommend faculty and Neu directed them to Herbst. Just now, Herbst was concerned with Neu’s book rather than the professorship. It occurred to him that Neu might have sent the book to his relatives, who would rejoice over it — not because of its quality, which he doubted they would recognize, but because it was a gift from an uncle. How delighted they would be to have the book analyzed for them. Herbst had not as yet translated this thought into action, and he hadn’t as yet designated himself for the job. But he thought: How happy those two ladies would be if someone were to come and say, “I’ll explain the book to you, if you like.”