EXCOMMUNICATION.

Uriel Acosta, a Portuguese gentleman, was born at Oporto, about the end of the sixteenth century. He was educated in the Romish religion, which his

father sincerely professed, though descended from one of those Jewish families, which were constrained to receive baptism. He was educated like a person of quality, and after several studies, applied himself at last to civil law. Nature had endowed him with good inclinations, and religion had made so deep an impression upon him, that he ardently desired to fulfil all the precepts of the church, in order to avoid eternal death, which he very much dreaded. Therefore he diligently applied himself to the reading of the Gospel, and other spiritual and godly books; and often consulted the decisions of Casuists about the heads of confession; but the more inquiries he made, the more he found his scruples and difficulties increase, till at last they entangled him to such a degree, that being unable to get out of the labyrinth, he fell into most terrible agonies of mind. He did not think it possible for him punctually to discharge the duty and conditions, which absolution requires according to sound Casuists, and thus he despaired of salvation, in case it could not be obtained in any other way. But, because it was difficult for him to abandon a religion to which he had been accustomed from his infancy, and which had taken deep root in his mind, through the force of persuasion, all he could do in his condition, was to examine whether all the notions he had imbibed of a future state were not mere fiction, and whether they were agreeable to reason. He fancied that reason incessantly suggested to him arguments against them: and being then twenty-two years of age, he first turned Sceptic, and afterwards concluded, that the road into which education had led him; would never carry him to salvation. In the mean time he studied the law, and obtained a preferment at twenty-five years of age, and being unwilling to be without religion, and the Roman Catholic religion affording him no rest, he applied himself to the reading of Moses and the prophets, and having found them more satisfactory than the gospel, he was at last persuaded that Judaism was the true religion; but not being permitted to profess it in Portugal, he resolved to leave his native country, and accordingly resigning his place, he embarked for Amsterdam with his mother and brothers, whom he had the courage to catechise, and whom he effectually brought over to his opinions.

He does not forget in his work entitled “Exemplar, vitæ Humanæ,” the circumstances which were proper to heighten the sacrifice he made to his religion. He observes that he relinquished a profitable and honourable post, and a fine house, which his father had built in the best part of the city. He adds the dangers of embarking; for the descendants of the Jews cannot go out of the kingdom, without the king’s particular leave. Lastly he says, that if it had been known that he entertained his mother and brothers with his thoughts about the Jewish religion, it would have been his utter ruin; but his charity made him overlook the danger.

As soon as the family arrived at Amsterdam, they were admitted into the synagogue, and were circumcised according to custom, upon which he changed his name of Gabriel into that of Uriel. It was not many days before he found that the manners and customs of the Jews were not conformable to the laws of Moses, and he could not forbear censuring this nonconformity; but the chief of the synagogue gave him to understand, that he must follow their tenets and customs in all points, and that if he receded from them never so little, they would excommunicate him. These threats did not discourage him; he thought it would not become a man, who had abandoned the conveniences of his native land for liberty of conscience, to yield to rabbies who had no authority; and that it would argue want of spirit and piety, if he should betray his sentiments upon this

occasion, and accordingly persisted. There was however a great difference between the tribunal which Acosta stood in fear of in his own country, and of the synagogue of Amsterdam. The latter can only inflict canonical punishments, whereas the Christian inquisition can put a man to death, for it delivers over to the secular sword all those it condemns. Therefore I do not wonder that Acosta was less afraid of the Jewish inquisition, than of that of Portugal. He knew that the synagogue had no tribunals, which intermeddled with any process, civil or criminal, and therefore looked upon their excommunications as a mere “brutum fulmen;” he did not find this canonical sentence attended either with death, whipping, prison, or a pecuniary mulct. He therefore thought that, since he had courage enough not to betray his religion in Portugal, he ought, with much more reason, have the boldness to speak according to his conscience, among the Jews, even at the peril of excommunication from them; which was all he had to fear from men who had no magistrates of their own. But it fared with him as with most people, who judge of complicated evils. They imagine is in the union of two or three punishments that a misfortune consists; and that a man would deserve but little pity, should he suffer only one of them; but they experience the contrary when providence exposes them to any one of these two or three disgraces. They feel it much heavier than they imagined it would prove. The inquisition of Portugal seemed dreadful to the Jew Acosta. Why so? Because he beheld it joined with the power, either mediately or immediately of imprisoning, torturing, and burning criminals. If he had considered it only with relation to its excommunication, he would not have been much afraid of it. This was the reason of his contemning the menaces of the synagogue of Amsterdam; but he was sensible, by experience, that the bare power of excommunication is very terrible, though altogether unaided by the secular sword. Every body looked upon him as a monster, after his excommunication; his very brothers avoided meeting him, and durst not take notice of him. The boys hooted at him in the streets, and loaded him with curses; they gathered in crowds about his house and threw stones at his windows; he could not be quiet either at home or abroad. The evils to which his excommunication subjected him were bo violent, that at last he found himself unable to support them; for, as great an aversion as he had to the synagogue, he chose rather to return to it by a seeming reconciliation, than to be openly separated from it. For this reason, he said to certain Christians, who had a mind to turn Jews, that they did not know what yoke they were going to submit their necks to. But how great was his perplexity when, having refused to undergo the ignominious penance imposed on him by the synagogue, he saw himself still detained by the bonds of excommunication? Those who met him in the streets, spat at him, and children were taught to do the same. His relations persecuted him, and no one would attend him when he lay sick.

Under these circumstances he composed a book in justification of himself; wherein he shewed that the rites and traditions of the pharisees were contrary to Moses’s writings. He had scarcely begun this book, when he embraced the opinion of the Sadducees; for he was fully pursuaded, that the punishments and rewards of the old law respected this life only; grounding his opinion principally upon this, that Moses makes no mention either of the joys of Heaven, or of the torments of Hell. When his adversaries were informed, that he had embraced this opinion, they were extremely pleased, because they foresaw it would be a good plea in justifying to the Christians the proceedings of the Synagogue against him. This was the reason, why, even

before his book went to the press, they published a treatise concerning the immortality of the soul, composed by a physician, who forgot nothing, that might contribute to brand Acosta for an Atheist. Nevertheless he published a book against the physician, wherein he strenuously opposed the immortality of the soul. The Jews had recourse to the tribunals of Amsterdam, and impeached him, as a person who overthrew the principles both of Judaism and Christianity. He was imprisoned, and admitted to bail in eight or ten days. The impression of his book was confiscated, and the author fined three hundred gilders. All this did not stop him: time and experience pushed him on much farther. He examined whether the law of Moses came from God, and fancied he had found sufficient reasons to be convinced, that it was a mere contrivance of human wit; but instead of concluding, therefore I ought not to return to the Jewish communion, he drew this consequence, why should I obstinately remain separated from it all my life-time, exposed to so many inconveniences, and a stranger as I am, in a country, the language whereof I cannot speak? Having considered all these things he returned to the pale of Judaism fifteen years after his excommunication, recanted what he had said, and subscribed whatever they pleased.

Some days after, a nephew of his, who lodged in his house, informed against him. This youth had taken notice that his uncle did not observe the laws of the synagogue, either in point of diet, or otherwise. The accusation was attended with strange consequences: for one of Acosta’s relations, who had reconciled him to the Jews, thought himself obliged, in honour, to prosecute him with the utmost severity. The rabbies and all the people under them, were actuated by the same spirit, especially when they heard that he had dissuaded two Christians, who were come from

London to Amsterdam from turning Jews. He was summoned before the grand council of the synagogue, who declared to him they would excommunicate him a second time, if he did not give them the satisfaction they should require of him. He found the terms of it so very hard, that be answered, he could not submit to them; whereupon they resolved to drive him from their communion; and it is impossible to relate the many insults offered him from that time, and how much he was persecuted by his relations. Having past seven years in this sad condition, he resolved to declare that he was ready to submit to the sentence of the synagogue; for they had given him to understand that, by means of this declaration, he would easily come off, because the judges, being satisfied with his submission, would mitigate the severity of the discipline. But he was deceived, and made to undergo, with the utmost rigour, the penance which they had at first imposed upon him.

A great crowd of men and women being assembled in the synagogue to see this spectacle, he entered the place, and, at the time appointed, went up into the pulpit, and read with a loud voice a paper, wherein he acknowledged that he had deserved death a thousand times, for not keeping either the Sabbath day, or his promised faith, and for having dissuaded the conversion of certain Christians, who were inclined to embrace Judaism: that, in atonement for these crimes, he Was ready to suffer whatever they should decree, and that he promised never to relapse into the same faults. Being come down from the pulpit, he was ordered to retire to one of the corners of the synagogue, where he stripped himself naked, from the waste upwards, and pulled off his shoes; then the door-keeper tied one of his hands to one of the pillars; after which the master-chanter gave him thirty-nine stripes with a whip, neither more nor less; for in these ceremonies they take care not to exceed the number which the law prescribes. Next came the preacher,

who ordered him to sit on the ground, and declared him absolved from his excommunication, and that the doors of paradise were not shut against him as before. “Et ita jam porta cœli mihi erat aperta, quae an tea fortissimis ceris clausa me à limine et ingressu excludebant. Acosta put on his clothes again, and went and laid himself down flat on his belly at the door of the synagogue, and all that went out trod over him. Such is what I have extracted, without any disguise or alteration, out of a small piece composed by Acosta, and published and confuted by Mr. Limborch. It is thought he wrote it some few days before his death, having first resolved to lay violent hands upon himself. He executed this strange resolution a little after he had failed in his attempt of shooting his principal antagonist as he passed by his door; for, his pistol missing fire, he locked himself up, and with another pistol shot himself. This happened at Amsterdam, though in what year is not certainly known. Thus Acosta sadly experienced how terrible even those people are, who without any legal jurisdiction, inflict laws of discipline, which are sometimes more ignominious and defaming than a branding iron; and expose a man to more temporal misfortunes, than the afflictive pains which the civil magistrate imposes. The sentence of the judge does not set aside the acts and offices of humanity, much less the duties of consanguinity; but excommunication often arms fathers against their children, and children against their fathers; stifles all the sentiments of nature; breaks the bonds of friendship and hospitality; and reduces people to the condition of such as are infected with the plague, nay sometimes to a worse and more abandoned state.—Art. Acosta.