were not favourable to the all-engrossing passion for Rabbinic study. In Judæa all seemed
to invite to retrospection and introspection; to favour habits of solitary thought and study,
till it kindled into fanaticism. Mile by mile as you travelled southwards, memories of the
past would crowd around, and thoughts of the future would rise within. Avoiding the
great towns as the centres of hated heathenism, the traveller would meet few foreigners,
but everywhere encounter those gaunt representatives of what was regarded as the
superlative excellency of his religion. These were the embodiment of Jewish piety and
asceticism, the possessors and expounders of the mysteries of his faith, the fountain- head
of wisdom, who were not only sure of heaven themselves, but knew its secrets, and were
its very aristocracy; men who could tell him all about his own religion, practised its most
minute injunctions, and could interpret every stroke and letter of the La w - nay, whose it
actually was to 'loose and to bind,' to pronounce an action lawful or unlawful, and to
'remit or retain sins,' by declaring a man liable to, or free from, expiatory sacrifices, or
else punishment in this or the next world. No Hindoo fanatic would more humbly bend
before Brahmin saints, nor devout Romanist more venerate the members of a holy
fraternity, than the Jew his great Rabbis.31 Reason, duty, and precept, alike bound him to
reverence them, as he reverenced the God Whose interpreters, representatives, deputies,
intimate companions, almost colleagues in the heavenly Sanhedrin, they were. And all
around, even nature itself, might seem to foster such tendencies. Even at that time Judæa
was comparatively desolate, barren, grey. The decaying cities of ancient renown; the lone
highland scenery; the bare, rugged hills; the rocky terraces from which only artificial
culture could woo a return; the wide solitary plains, deep glens, limestone heights - with
distant glorious Jerusalem ever in the far background, would all favour solitary thought
and religious abstraction.
31. One of the most absurdly curious illustrations of this is the following: 'He who blows
his nose in the presence of his Rabbi is worthy of death' (Erub, 99 a, line 11 from
bottom). The dictum is supported by an alteration in the reading of Prov. viii. 36.
It was quite otherwise in Galilee. The smiling landscape of Lower Galilee invited the
easy labour of the agriculturist. Even the highlands of Upper Galilee32 were not, like
those of Judæa, sombre, lonely, enthusiasm -killing, but gloriously grand, free, fresh, and
bracing. A more beautiful country - hill, dale, and lake - could scarcely be imagined than
Galilee Proper. It was here that Asher had 'dipped his foot in oil.' According to the
Rabbis, it was easier to rear a forest of olive-trees in Galilee than one child in Judæa.
Corn grew in abundance; the wine, though not so plentiful as the oil, was rich and
generous. Proverbially, all fruit grew in perfection, and altogether the cost of living was
about one-fifth that in Judæa. And then, what a teeming, busy population! Making every
allowance for exaggeration, we cannot wholly ignore the account of Josephus about the
240 towns and villages of Galilee, each with not less than 15,000 inhabitants. In the
centres of industry all then known trades were busily carried on; the husbandman pursued
his happy toil on genial soil, while by the Lake of Gennesaret, with its unrivalled beauty,
its rich villages, and lovely retreats, the fisherman plied his healthy avocation. By those
waters, overarched by a deep blue sky, spangled with the brilliancy of innumerable stars,
a man might feel constrained by nature itself to meditate and pray; he would not be likely
to indulge in a morbid fanaticism.