[In the following essay, Philipson examines the legitimacy of including the Jew as a character in fictional works, and argues that the only context in which "the Jew can be truthfully represented in the modern work of fiction… is as the follower and confessor of his religion. " Philipson goes on to state that George Eliot has presented the Jew appropriately in Daniel Deronda, that is, as a follower of Judaism, rather than in racial terms.]

As portrayed in English fiction from the time of Elizabeth to our day, the Jew is almost Protean in his character, if we may judge from the various guises he has been made to assume, running the whole length from the villainy of Barabbas to the ideal nobleness of Mordecai. So remarkable a phenomenon is well worthy of investigation. The theme is of sufficient importance to demand earnest, careful, and unprejudiced consideration. The influence of these productions in shaping the popular conception of the Jew can not be overestimated, since the fascinating form wherein the matter is presented is particularly effective in leaving a deep and lasting impression on the mind of the reader.

Where philosophy, with its investigations into the cause, aim, and effect of existence, with its far-reaching inquiries and conclusions, attracts but the few eager and restless minds who would delve into the very mystery of things; where theology, the philosophy of the highest, requires a depth and breadth of comprehension far above the ordinary; where positive science is an exacting mistress, demanding that exclusive devotion which only some choice spirits can or are willing to give; where historical investigation expects that search into past doings, customs, and thoughts, which can be satisfactorily accomplished only with the greatest labor and skill; where thus the pursuit of truth in any branch demands the discipleship of a lifetime and must be content with the least results, the many, impatient to be amused, not desirous of exerting the brain overmuch, have found in the novel, "the modern epic," as Fielding terms it, and in the drama, the novel presented to the eye, their chief mental excitement and amusement. Where one will find delight in any of the heavier products of thought, a thousand will eagerly quaff of the waters which flow from the fountain-head of fiction.

The ordinary reader is carried along, adopts the conclusions offered, has his opinions shaped and modeled by the writer of fiction. How many are there whose whole knowledge of history, for example, has been derived from this source. There are historical, scientific, philosophical, theological, and political novels, and great is the influence they exert. They are mighty factors in modern culture and modern life. Their power is great for good or for evil, as their producers will. Of many minds they are the only pabulum. It is not our object to decry the trash which passes to-day under the name of fiction, nor yet to extol the many productions of true genius which, presenting the phases of the development of the human life in this attractive form, have been among the benefactions of mankind, for there is scarcely one who has not been held as by a charm in the power of "the Wizard of the North," or has not laughed and wept and pitied and grown indignant with Dickens, or has not marveled at the biting scorn and sarcasm, and been startled at the deep insight into human nature of Thackeray, or has not stood amazed at the minute investigation of the broad, deep, philosophical mind of the greatest of the female novelists, the representative par excellence of psychological analysis in fiction, or has not drunk in and pondered and studied, and pondered again o'er the lines of the myriadminded dramatist, England's first genius, and of the many lesser lights that revolve about this sun.

To these the greatest license is given; they touch upon any and every subject, whether legitimate or otherwise; none can bound the domain they may enter, none has yet attempted to define the proper province wherein fiction shall move. And yet there are but too evident instances that fiction, by offering a misrepresentation, has inflicted on innocent victims the greatest harm. Passion and prejudice readily communicate themselves from the page to the reader. Then ignorance, too, has impressed its seal on many a work whose influence all argument and all proof have in vain attempted to counteract. And that the Jew has suffered in this respect can not be denied. He has been a favorite character in fiction, treated with all the prejudice and ill-feeling which characterized the sentiments of the multitude, until the appearance of Lessing's "Die Juden" and "Nathan der Weise." How he suffered from the evil effects which these works of the imagination produced may be gathered from the following instance; whenever in the last century Shylock was performed, the passions of the multitude were excited to such a pitch that it was found necessary to produce, immediately thereafter, "Nathan the Wise," that this might act as an antidote towards quieting the aroused passions which might have culminated in excesses involving great danger to the unfortunate Jews.

Two questions present themselves for solution in this introduction: First. Was and is it legitimate to introduce the Jew into works of fiction? And, secondly, if so, to what extent can this be carried? Before answering the first question a few remarks will be necessary. Fiction is a compound of truth and imagination; its lasting power lies in the correct blending of these two factors. Exaggeration makes it bizarre and grotesque. Discerning minds will readily discover its weakness and its strength, and, according to the predominance of either, it will stand among the imperishable works of genius or disappear among the fleeting productions of the moment. Now, the truths which it lies within the province of the writer of fiction to touch, belong either to the inner world of human thought and emotion, the elaboration and development of which, in character, forms what we may term the analytical, psychological novel, or, if the novelist or the dramatist wishes to treat of external life—that is of real life, and desires to present his tale as containing elements thereof—he can employ only such characters and scenes which possess something strange, something different from that to which his readers are accustomed, and which can give a tangible hold to imaginative descriptions and events. This is what gives Scott his great and undying power; his Scotch descriptions and scenes came as a revelation to the reading world. They contain the element of truth and are drawn by a master hand. That is why Auerbach's Dorfgeschichten met with so generous a reception, because they dealt with scenes that had peculiarities sufficient to give them separate treatment.

Therefore, too, the modern Russian, Swedish, and Norwegian works and tales attract so many intelligent readers, because competent minds have grasped upon that which is peculiar, and blending this truth with their imagination's fancies, produce these works, if not of genius, at least of great worth, in enabling us to understand the lives and incidents they portray.

Does Jewish life present these peculiar features, or any peculiar features which make it proper material for the novelist, so that the Jew, being introduced into the work of fiction, may be a truthful picture, and not a caricature? This question we ask regarding Jewish life, as not included in the Jewish religion; this point will be touched further on. Here, in the portrayal of Jewish life, it is that we must distinguish between past and present. We will not for a moment deny that in the past, and in those instances of the present which strictly follow the traditional lines set by the past—as is the case in the communities of Eastern and South-eastern Europe—the Jew, as man, apart from the Jew in religion, was and is a legitimate character to be introduced into fiction. His strict exclusiveness, his many peculiar habits, his (to the community) inexplicable customs, marked him off, as belonging to a nationality with peculiarities all its own. As, inclosed within the Ghetto he was cut off from all communication, except such as occasional business transactions required, so was he seemingly devoid of all sympathy with his surroundings. He had a national ideal; he regarded his present residence merely as a resting place in exile from the Holy Land. In many instances, he wore a costume by which he was distinguished. In short, his appearance, habits, customs, desires, inclinations, longings, hopes, were different from those of his neighbors. All things conspired to keep him thus; he was oppressed, jeered at—the butt of ridicule and cruelty. A character so strange, so readily distinguishable, with manners and habits so marked, became, as may be expected, popular with writers and authors; especially as by exaggeration and falsification they could delight and please their hearers and readers. Had the writers of these mediaeval and later tales kept within the bounds of truth and reason, none could object to their introducing the Jew into their works. There are tales of this very Jewish life, portraying the peculiarities and strangenesses of the Ghetto-existence, giving pictures of every phase and every custom of this life, which are truly delightful and instructive reading. They were inspired, however, by friendship, or, at least, by impartiality, instead of by ignorance, hatred, and malice. The charming tales of past Jewish life of Kompert, Franzos, Sacher-Masoch, Baernstein, and Kohn, as tales of the past, although containing so much that is strange and idiosyncratic, we feel to be perfectly proper, although they are often concerned with non-religious doings; and why? Because they portray what was once a true state of affairs. Even should they contain passages unfavorable to the Jews, such as some chapters of Auerbach's Spinoza, which tell of bigotry and intolerance, yet, knowing them to be true, none can object; none who would have the virtues appear would attempt to veil the failings and the errors.

This was; it belongs to history; and the fiction that would treat thereof must belong to historical fiction. Now, however, when the Jew has laid off all these peculiar customs; when he has stepped out of the Ghetto into the free light and air; when he has dropped his traditional distinguishing marks; when he in all has become like his neighbor—thinking like thoughts, indulging the same ideals, no longer a stranger in a strange land, nor looking upon his habitation as temporary, but filled with patriotic feeling for the welfare of whatever country he may inhabit; when, in all but religion, he is like unto all—every representation of the modern Jew, except in the religious light, in novel or in drama, in play or in tale, is a mark of gross ignorance, and, through ignorance, of gross evil and injustice. The prejudices of an early day have not yet died out, and this, coupled with the dense ignorance characterizing otherwise cultured people regarding Jews and Judaism, give these latter-day productions a truly pernicious power. From them many obtain their only knowledge of the Jews. The old thought of peculiarity and isolation is revived, if it ever had disappeared. Many who derive their knowledge from this literature never come into contact with the misrepresented character; and if they should, and would find him or her different from the presentation, they would not regard the portrayal incorrect, but only look upon their new acquaintance as a rara avis—a different somebody from the usual class; for had they not been informed by their author that the Jews speak differently, that they act differently, than their Christian neighbors?

All such works written and published add but another layer to the dividing line already existing. They are unjust to the Jew; they are but new antagonistic elements with which he is forced to combat. Even if written without prejudicial intent, they contain the insidious seed which sinks deeply and produces poisonous and noxious weeds. An author has a superficial acquaintance, we will say, with some Jews; he has picked up, here and there, some Hebrew phrases; he has noted a few distinguishing customs among some classes of Jews; he has also met with some loud, uncultured characters among them. Without any knowledge of true Judaism whatsoever, he will now set himself up as a teacher, to inform, through the pages of a novel, the general public what the Jews are, how they live, how they act, how they speak. He commits an injustice of the greatest character; he makes them speak a frightful jargon; he does more to increase the already existing prejudice than many a better book can undo; he gives them sentiments which are a disgrace to honest men; he at times tries to glaze over things by a kind word, or a pat on the back, as it were, but this is only the treacherous device that strengthens the wrong view presented. No worse enemy of the Jews exists; these novels are hidden thrusts; they are but tracts, as pernicious in their tendency as any anti-Semitic sheet ever published; they rest on a little superficial knowledge; they present, not the Jew, but a caricature; they introduce to us some coarse, loud individuals as Jews, and hence, as will be inferred from this, as types; they strengthen that widely prevalent notion of a peculiar people, and are to be denounced as falsities, as misrepresentations, as calumnies.

Because there are some vulgar, uncultured people among the Jews, is this a reason that such are to be specially represented as Jews? Because some Jews have grown suddenly rich, and are loudly ostentatious, is this a cause that the flagrant injustice be done, that they, with these characteristics, be held up by the name of their religion? 'T is time that this should cease; 't is time that those maligned and slandered should speak their word and counteract this dangerous and insidious influence; 't is time at last that Jews altogether be not characterized and represented by the few who are what they are, not as Jews, but as men. Any man, be he Jew or Christian, Mohammedan or heathen, who has been bred in ignorance, and has suddenly acquired a fortune, will be shoddy, for thus he thinks to air his importance, as his money is the only claim he has thereto, will be vulgar and loud, and generally disgusting to cultured people; but his religion has nought to do therewith. That is the trait in human nature which makes the parvenu, who has been a favorite character for ridicule from ancient days to our time, made typical by Molière's famous presentation of Jourdain in Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme. But Molière speaks not of his parvenu's religion; he presents him as a type, that can be met with every day. How would not a book be decried, or else considered beneath notice, that would introduce an Episcopalian, or a Methodist, or a Presbyterian, as the representative of shoddyism, of vulgarity, of loudness! We can readily imagine what a reception such a work would receive. The author would be ridiculed, the statements made be denounced as false, or it might become a curiosity illustrative of the strange perversion of a mind that could couple Christianity with qualities with which that religion, as well as no other, has any thing to do. And yet there is as much shoddyism among all those classes as among the Jews; as much glitter and tinsel, as much parvenuism and loudness.

Culture takes time. The children of the upstart will be more cultured and refined than he; his grandchildren still more so. Among us surely, in this land, there is no cause for any casting of stones; for the great and small fortunes have been acquired only comparatively lately, and the earliest ancestor of families which make even the greatest pretensions to culture is a very small distance of time off, when compared with that length of years back when the ancestors of the Jews, with the Greeks, comprised the culture of the world. In discussing any of these books, it is not apposite to adduce the fact that we all enjoy the broad humor and strange characteristics of the Irish, as presented in works of fiction; that Hugo employs the French character in its distinctiveness; that Stinde seizes upon the peculiarities of Berlin life; that Howells sets forth the traits of American society—that all means something different—those are national peculiarities, which characterize only those depicted; but the qualities which are given the Jew in these works are those which can belong to any man. Further, it is neither legitimate nor truthful to treat the Jews as nationalities are treated. There are no Jewish national traits; as Englishmen, they have the qualities of Englishmen, and so with every nation among whom they may dwell. Among one nation, and one only, has this truth come home, and that is the French—due, perhaps, to the fact that the government supports the three religions, and makes no distinction in favor of any. Elsewhere the lesson must still be learned that Jews are to be contrasted with Christians, not with Englishmen, Germans, or Americans.

Following this line of thought, there is but one manner in which the Jew can be truthfully represented in the modern work of fiction, and that is as the follower and confessor of his religion; and that only by such as have made a long and exhaustive study of the same. Whether the presentation offered be true or false, favorable or unfavorable, is another question; but as long as the fictionist keeps within these lines, he is at least faithful unto the feelings and sentiments of the Jews themselves in this respect. Then it becomes the province of the critic to determine whether the writer has given a true statement of the religious acts and customs or not. As George Eliot, with perfect propriety, introduced into her earlier tales the Dissenters, and gave a vivid picture of their religious manners, habits, and customs; as Scott portrays the Scotch Covenanters, with all their fire, their obstinacy, their dogged determination, and their habit of introducing religious discussions at all times, so that Mause Headrigg, for example, has become a character fixed and typical; as Hawthorne now and then discourses on the religious customs of the New England Puritans; so, too, and so only, are the Jew and the Jewish religion to be employed for fiction's purposes, if they are to be employed at all, in novels and plays representing modern life. One great novelist of our days alone has done this, the writer of Daniel Deronda; if correct or not in her presentation, is a question to be discussed later on.

The name Jew is the proud cognomen of the confessors of that parent religion, through whose medium the truth of the one God was divulged to the world. However, ere they are Jews they are men. As Jews, they stand a distinctive religious community; as men, they are as their neighbors, one with them in all else. If they are to be distinguished from them, it is only in this; in all else there is nothing peculiar. Every representation as aught else is false. Christian and Jew are lost in that wider relationship of man, as Lessing's Nathan so well says to the Templar: "Are Christian and Jew such before they are men? Oh! would that I had found in you one whom it sufficed to be called man!"