CHAPTER VIII. SOLOMON DUITSCH, THE HUNGARIAN RABBIN. HIS EARLY LIFE THE SUDDEN DEATH-HIS EXTRAORDINARY IMPRESSIONS-IS FORSAKEN BY HIS FAMILY-VISIT ОР THE ROMISH PRIESTS-COMMOTION IN THE TOWN UPON HIS ACCOUNT--MAKES HIS ESCAPE TO THE PRUSSIAN DOMINIONS -STORY OF THE RABBIN-EVENT AT LEIPSIC. IN following the extraordinary narrative of the Rabbi Solomon Duitsch, it is probable that the mind which confides too strongly in the exclusive dominion of human reason, may be led to receive with great doubt and hesitation many portions of it, if not absolutely to reject them. No christian however, can question that it may seem good to the Lord, to convey the knowledge of the truth, by means out of the ordinary course of nature and providence; and since there are upon record, well-attested instances of this, in the case of individuals who afterwards spent their lives in the service of God, in all sobriety of spirit, wisdom and faithfulness, a christian, bearing in mind their example, may surely believe in the possibility and reality of the same in the case of other persons. Solomon Duitsch was born at Temeswar, in Hun gary, in the year 1734. His father died when he was five years of age, and as there is no mention of his mother in his narrative, he was probably left an orphan. He received a learned education at Prague, in one of the most celebrated of the Jewish academies. At the age of twenty, he married Jentild, daughter of a wealthy Jew, named Solomon Cohen, at Nystatel, on the river Vaag, under whose roof he therefore went to reside; it being the custom among the wealthy Israelites, as has before been observed, to marry their daughters to the learned, though portionless student, and to receive the son thus adopted into the family of his young wife. The very early age at which marriages are contracted among the Jews, may probably have given rise, in part at least, to this custom. He seems to have been most happy in his marriage, and passed his time like the noble and tender Italian wife Con puro amor con somma contentezza, and he did probably bless them, so far as earthly good was concerned his life was now but the copy of the picture which has been drawn in former narratives; : * See the remarkable instance of Col. Gardiner, recorded in his life by Dr. Doddridge Also that of the late Rev. John Newton of Olney, in Cecil's Life of Newton. See also Dr. Southey's Life of Bunyan, prefixed to Pilgrim's Progress, p. xi. happy domestic circumstances, and a life devoted to learning—that is, to the Talmud-not, as Solomon Duitsch himself observes, with a view to improving himself in the doctrine of truth, as endeavouring to know God in His essence and attributes; but because he thought, as he says, that he might gain heaven by reading the Talmud:-the Scriptures a closed book, and the commandments of men substituted for the word of God. Such was his life for the space of six years; the event which first awakened his heart to things beyond this world, was the death of his dearlybeloved wife, who died suddenly, on April 5th, 1760, leaving behind her one little daughter six months old, named Esther. Not only were his strongest affections thus riven, but the unexpected manner of her death, brought before him a terrible picture, the possibility of the day of his own departure, that dismal and fearful day' as he calls it, coming upon him with the same suddenness. His father-in-law, touched probably with his deep regret, pressed him to marry again, and gave him for a wife his second daughter, named Sara. He appears to have been happy for a while at least, in this second marriage, and a little more time passed tranquilly on. It happened that one day towards the close of the year 1761, that he read in a book, a serious warning to all mankind, ‘that none should put off his repentance and work of salvation to another day.' It struck his heart with terror indescribable; it even seemed to him, as if some person at a distance called unto him with a distinct voice, Arise out of darkness!' He turned his eyes within, but conscience slept and responded not: he seemed to himself a righteous and pious man, who walked in the light, and was no ways in darkness, therefore he did not comprehend what those words could mean. The night of the day following, as he was studying the Talmud, the same fear and terror seemed to seize upon him, and again he seemed to hear the same call, Arise out of darkness! Still to him it was a mysterious call, he considered the meaning of the words in vain; and though inwardly tormented, he sought to dispel his melancholy emotions by various sorts of diversions. On the next night, he heard that remarkable call the third time; in the midst of his reading, he seemed to hear the same words, Arise out of darkness!' he began to understand the true condition of his soul before God; he beheld himself a polluted, unworthy, miserable sinner. The dread and anguish he endured were almost insupportable, he desired the earth might open and swallow him up, like Korah and his company. Imagine a person in the full possession of all the good of this world, domestic affection, friendship, health, wisdom, learning, honour, riches, and all those comforts, which an unblemished character, and the praise, esteem, and regard of their fellow-creatures can procure; imagine such an one, suddenly awaking to the consciousness of having committed, unknown to himself (if such a thing were possible) a dreadful crime, which was already discovered, and for which he was just about to be tried and condemned; the imagination shrinks from entering into the agony of a mind in such circumstances-yet surely it is but a faint picture of what that soul must feel, which, quitting the body with the calm emotions of one who has never known the guilt of sin, or the fear of punishment, who obeying the laws of man, and the requirements of society, has passed a life not only unblamed by either, but praised by both, and yet has committed transgressions against the law of God, a million times multiplied-transgressions unknown and uncared for, and awakes to the FIRST consciousness of sin, when the grave has closed over the hope of pardon, when the sentence is about to be pronounced, and an immortality of misery hath already began. Let every one therefore, who thinks that the expression of a sinner's repentance had no need to be so deep, so solemn, so self-abhorrent, especially in the mouth of the moral and esteemed person,-let every one so thinking be assured, that a person dying unconvinced of sin, and unrepentant, has an awakening of the conscience to endure, far more dreadful than any thing which can be expressed or exhibited in this state of existence. The impression thus made upon the mind of the Rabbi, was one not to be effaced; he looked for comfort, but found none, and his deeply troubled and perplexed spirit, fastened as usual upon that source of hoped-for pardon, self-inflicted suffering. He now commenced a new course of life, in acts of penance, mortification, and charity, wearing sackcloth made of hair next to his skin, and giving large alms to the poor. Though these things failed to bring comfort to his own soul, they procured for him a great reputation for sanctity |