The Talmud, the quintessential Jewish book, is a
challenging work.  A source of Bible
interpretation, halakhah, ethical values, and ontology, often described as a
sea, it is a comprehensive work that encompasses all aspects of human endeavor.
 Rabbinic Judaism is inconceivable
without the Talmud.  Jewish students
traditionally followed an educational path beginning in early childhood that
culminated in Talmud study, an activity that continued for the remainder of the
adult male’s life.

That path was never easy.  The Talmud is a complex and demanding work, its complexity
compounded by the fact that it is, to a large extent, written in Aramaic, the
language of the Jews in the Babylonian exile, spoken in the Middle East for a
millennium, and used in the redaction of the Talmud.  Jews living outside of the Middle East, and even there after
Aramaic ceased to be a spoken language, found approaching the Talmud a daunting
task.  Talmud study was, for many,
excepting scholars steeped in Talmudic literature, a difficult undertaking,
made all the more so by its language and structure.  After the Enlightenment, when large numbers of Jews received less
intensive Jewish educations, these impediments to Talmud study became more prevalent.

Elucidation of the text was accomplished through
commentaries, most notably that of R. Solomon ben Isaac (Rashi,
1040-1105).  Within his commentary there
are numerous instances in which Rashi explains a term in medieval French, his
vernacular.  In the modern period,
another solution to the language problem presented itself for those who
required more than the explanation of difficult terms, that is, the translation
of the text of the Talmud into the vernacular.

All that was available in English from the Talmud in
the last decade of the nineteenth century were fragmentary portions of
tractates, Mishnaic treatises, and Streane’s translation of Hagigah.  At that time an effort was begun to
translate a substantial portion of the Talmud into English. The subject of this
paper is that pioneer effort to produce an English edition of the Talmud.  This paper addresses the background of that
translation, the manner in which it was undertaken, and its reception.  It is also concerned with the translator’s
motivation and his qualifications for undertaking such an ambitious
project.  The paper does not, however, critique
the translation, that having been done, and done well, as we shall see, in
contemporary appraisals of  the first
English Talmud.

The effort to provide English speakers with a Talmud
was undertaken by Michael Levi Rodkinson (1845-1904), whose background and
outlook made him an unlikely aspirant for such a project.  Rodkinson, a radical proponent of haskalah,
proposed to translate the entire Talmud, not only to making it accessible to
English speakers, but also to transform that “chaotic” work, through careful
editing, into “a readable, intelligible work.”

Rodkinson is a fascinating figure, albeit a thorough
scoundrel.  He was born to a
distinguished Hasidic family; his father was Sender (Alexander) Frumkin (1799-1876)
of Shklov, his mother, Radka Hayyah Horowitz (1802-47).  Radka died when Rodkinson was an infant, and
he later changed his surname from Frumkin to Rodkinson, that is, Radka’s
son.  Some time after, perhaps in his
early twenties, Rodkinson became a maskil, with the result that his
literary oeuvre encompasses both Hasidic and maskilic works.  Rodkinson’s personal life was disreputable,
his peccadilloes including bigamy and other affairs with women.  Subsequently, Rodkinson worked in St.
Petersburg as a stock broker and speculator, and sold forged documents, such as
military exemptions and travel papers.  For these latter offenses Rodkinson was sentenced to a year in prison,
three years loss of honor, and fined 1,800 rubles.  To avoid these penalties, Rodkinson fled to Königsberg, Prussia.

In Königsberg Rodkinson edited a journal, the Hebrew
weekly, ha-Kol (1876-c.1880), described as representing the “radical and
militant tendency of the Haskalah.”  He
was also the author of a number of monographs on various Jewish subjects,
purporting to explain Jewish religious and ritual practice, although certainly
not from a traditional perspective.  The
antagonism engendered by these monographs was  intensified by his personality, arousing such hostility, that,
together with his ongoing legal entanglements, Rodkinson, in 1889, found it
advisable to emigrate to the United States.

That Rodkinson should have left the Hasidic fold, become
a maskil, and adhered to a radical ideology is not that unusual. The
late nineteenth century was witness to the assimilation or casting off of
tradition by large numbers of Jews. 
However, that someone of Rodkinson’s outlook should undertake to translate
the Talmud into English is certainly unusual and perhaps  even unique.  There is, than, a contradiction between his enlightenment
attitudes and personality, and his attempts, through his abridgement and
translation, to spread Talmudic studies. 
Individual maskilim might, as an intellectual endeavor, continue
to study Talmud, but none devoted any effort or energy to bringing the Talmud
to a public that had largely distanced itself from that repository of Jewish
knowledge. 

Nevertheless, Rodkinson’s goal of translating the
Talmud had been, as we are informed in the introduction to Rosh Hashana (sample
volume), his dream for twelve years.  He
had expressed a “desire to revise and correct the Talmud” as early as 1882 in le-Boker
Mishpat, and subsequently in Iggorot Petuhot and Iggorot
ha-Talmud (Pressburg, 1885); and Ha-Kol (nos. 298, 299, and 300).  In Iggorot Petuhot (repeated in the
Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana) Rodkinson describes the incredible
multiplicity of rabbinic works since the redaction of the Talmud.  He notes the numerous responsa, which, their
great number notwithstanding, have not resolved anything.  The Talmudic page is confused and unclear,
due to its many commentaries and cross-references.  Rodkinson states that previous exegetes, such as the Vilna Gaon,
R. Akiva Egger, R. Pick, and others, rather than clarifying the page,
proliferated works that were printed with the Talmud, adding to the confusion.
It is Rodkinson’s intent to remove the shame of the Talmud from Israel and
restore the Talmud to its original state. 
Thought of this project gives him no rest.  He thinks of it day and night. 
He writes, towards the end of Iggorot Petuhot that he will “offer
and dedicate the remainder of his days on the altar of this work, it will be
the delight of his nights and with it he will complete the hours of the
day.  . . . it will give purpose to his
life.”

Perhaps Rodkinson’s motivation can be found in the
criticism leveled by his opponents, that intellectually, Rodkinson’s weltanschauung
was bifurcated, that is, he suffered from a conflict between his Hasidic past
and radical present.  Joseph Kohen-Zedek
(1827-1903), author of Sefat Emet, a work harshly critical of Rodkinson,
accused him of being “androgynous,” two-faced, “one time he shows his face as a
Hasid, the next as a heretic, and should therefore be called Sama’el instead of
Michael, for he is a destructive angel.”[1]  More recently, Joseph Dan, writing about
Rodkinson’s Hasidic stories, notes that “Michael Ha-Levi-Frumkin Rodkinson is unique
in that he was neither a real Hasid nor a real Maskil, . . .”[2]  Abridging, editing, translating, and, most
importantly, modernizing the Talmud may have been, for Rodkinson, a means of
reconciling these diverse worlds.  The
rationale for the abridged translation, “a work that cannot prove financially
profitable, and that will probably be productive of much adverse criticism in
certain quarters,” is set forth in the English preamble, “A Few Words to the
English Reader,” to Rosh Hashana, 

Since the time of Moses Mendelssohn the Jew has made
vast strides forward.  There is to-day
no branch of Human activity in which his influence is not felt.  Interesting himself in the affairs of the
world, he has been enabled to bring a degree of intelligence and industry to
bear upon modern life, that has challenged the admiration of the modern
world.  But with the Talmud, it is not
so.  That vast encyclopedia of Jewish
lore remains as it was.  No improvement
has been possible; no progress has been made with it.  Reprint after reprint has appeared, but it has always been called
the Talmud Babli, as chaotic as when its canon was originally appointed.  Commentary upon commentary has appeared yet
the text of the Talmud has not received that heroic treatment that will alone
enable us to say that the Talmud has been improved.[3]

Despite the “venomous vituperation” of the attacks
upon it, a more intimate knowledge of that work would demonstrate that the
Talmud “is a work of the greatest sympathies, the most liberal impulses, and
the widest humanitarianism.”  Many of
the phrases for which the Talmud is attacked were not part of that work, but
rather “are the latter additions of enemies and ignoramuses.”  How did its present situation come about?

When it is remembered that until it was first printed,
that before the canon of the Talmud was fixed in the sixth century, it had been
growing for more than six hundred years (the Talmud was in manuscript for eight
centuries), that during the whole of that time it was beset by ignorant, unrelenting
and bitter foes, that marginal notes were easily added and in after years
easily embodied in the text by unintelligent printers, such a theory as here
advanced is not at all improbable.[4]

Rodkinson rises to the defense of the Talmud, a work
that he feels will be remembered when the Shulkhan Arukh is forgotten,
concluding that the best defense is to allow it to “plead its own cause in a
modern language.”  Others have attempted
to translate it, for example, Pinner and Rawicz, but their attempts were
neither correct not readable, precisely because they were only translations.

If it were translated from the original text one would
not see the forest for the trees. . . . As it stands in the original it is,
therefore, a tangled mass defying reproductions in a modern tongue.  It has consequently occurred to us that in
order to enable the Talmud to open its mouth, the text must be carefully
edited.  A modern book, constructed on a
supposed scientific plan, we cannot make of it, for that would not be the Talmud;
but a readable, intelligible work it can be made.  We have, therefore, carefully punctuated the Hebrew text with
modern punctuation marks, and have re-edited it by omitting all such irrelevant
matter as interrupted the clear and orderly arrangement of the various
arguments.  In this way disappears those
unnecessary debates within debates, which only serve to confuse and never to
enlighten on the question debated. . . .[5]

In the Hebrew introduction Rodkinson writes that the
task of restoring the original, or core Talmud should properly be done by a
gathering of great sages.  However,
there are none today who wish to undertake such a great and burdensome
task.  If he would seek their
assistance, it would take years to arrive at some unity of purpose, and if this
was accomplished, it would take yet more years before anything was done, for
they are occupied with other matters. 
Furthermore, the rabbinic figures appropriate for this undertaking are a
minority of a minority, for “this work is not a matter of wisdom but of
action.”[6]
 Therefore, the project only
requires men who know the language and style of the Talmud, a sharp eye and
ear, who can distinguish between its various parts and contents.  Such men need not have learned in a bet
medrash (rabbinic house of study) or have earned the titles of professor or
doctor, nor know Latin or Greek.

Actual publication of “The New Talmud” began in
stages.  In 1895, Tract Rosh Hashana (New
Year) of the New Babylonian Talmud, Edited, Formulated and Punctuated for the
First Time by Michael L. Rodkinson and Translated by Rabbi J. Leonard Levy
. . .” appeared, issued in Philadelphia by Charles Sessler, Publisher.  The initial volume, with Hebrew and English
text, has the names of subscribers, Opinions, and a Few Words to the English
Reader from Rodkinson, all repeated in subsequent parts.

That same year, a sample volume, entitled Tract Rosh
Hashana, was published. Despite the fact that the title-page describes it as
tract Rosh Hashana, the volume actually consists of sample pages of Rosh
Hashana (Hebrew), together with sample pages of other tractates, in both
English and Hebrew..

The title-page of the sample volume (1895) notes that
it is being “edited, formulated and punctuated for the first time by Michael L.
Rodkinson, author of Numerous Theological Works, Formerly Editor of the Hebrew
‘CALL.’” The title-page is followed by subscription information, which may be
submitted to any one of eight individuals. 
Next are opinions from prominent personalities and Jewish periodicals,
not all of which can be printed due to space limitations.  In only two of these opinions do the writers
state that they have read the advance sheets. 
They are Drs. Szold and Mielziner. The former writes that the
Rev. M. L. Rodkinson has “laid before me a number of Hebrew proof sheets of the
treatise ‘Berachoth’ and the whole of the treatise ‘Sabbath’ in manuscript,”
requesting the work to be read critically, and, if it found favor, to “testify
to its merit.”  He continues that he has
“very carefully read sixteen chapters of the M.S. of treatise Sabbath and it
affords me the greatest pleasure . . . [that it] is of extraordinary merit and
value. . . .”  Dr. Mielziner writes that
he has “perused some advance sheets . . . and finds his [Rodkinson] work to be
very recommendable.”[7]  The remaining endorsements are for the
“planned edition,” among them the letters of Prof. Lazarus, of Berlin, and Rev.
Friedman, of Vienna, dated July, 1885, written in response to Rodkinson’s Ha-Kol
articles.

The most prominent supporter of the projected translation
was Dr. Isaac Mayer Wise (1819-1900), President of Hebrew Union College (HUC),
and, from 1889 to his death, president of the Central Conference of American
Rabbis.  He writes, in a letter dated
January 14, 1895, to an unnamed potential sponsor, “We have the duty to afford
him the opportunity to publish one volume. . . . If this volume is what he
promises, he will be the man to accomplish the task.”[8]  The “Opinions” are followed by “A Word to
the Public,” which informs us that

We have also after 40 years of study and research,
supported by frequent consultations with other like-students, corrected many
errors, discarded much legendary matter, which we have found, are entirely
foreign to the Talmud and its spirit, but have been introduced and “Talmudized”
so to speak, through innumerable reprints, unintentional and intentional errors
. . . and reduced the Babylonian Talmud from more than 5000 to about 1200
pages.  . . .

The entire cost of publication for the Hebrew and
English editions will amount to $7500.00 A sum of gigantic proportions
considering our humble means.  Yet we
are not the least appalled thereby. . . .[9]

The sample volume concludes with four specimen pages
in English of Sabbath, Chapter I; two pages, in Hebrew, of tractate Kiddushin,
with Rashi; four pages of sample sheets of “New Year” in English, tractate Rosh
Hashana in Hebrew, with Rashi; a long turgid Hebrew introduction; the
Hebrew opinions; and a second, brief, Hebrew introduction.

The first volumes of “The New Edition of the
Babylonian Talmud” were published in 1896, the last in 1903, followed, that
year, by a supplementary volume on the history of the Talmud.

Rodkinson described his approach to translating the
text of the Talmud in the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, and
afterwards, in response to criticism, in an article in Ner Ma’aravi, and
yet again, translated and in abbreviated form, in The History.  He claims that “in reality we omit nothing
of importance of the whole text, in the shape given out by its compilers, and
only that which we were certain to have been added by the dislikers of the
Talmud for the purpose of degrading it do we omit.”  Omissions fall into seven categories.  Repetitions in both halakhah and aggadah are omitted, whether occurring
in several tractates or in only one. 
For example, “The discussions in the Gemara are repeated sometimes from
one to fifteen times, some of them without any change at all, and some with
change of little or no importance.  In
our edition we give the discussion only once, in its proper place.”  Long involved discussions, repeated
elsewhere, are deleted, with only the conclusion being presented and, “Questions
which remain undecided and many of them are not at all practical but only
imaginary, and very peculiar too, we omit.”  In some instances Mishnayot are combined.  Concerning aggadic material he repeats his
assertion that “any one with common sense, and without partiality, can be found
who would deny that such things were inserted by the Talmud haters only for the
purpose of ridiculing the Talmud.  It is
self evident that in our edition such and numerous similar legends do not find
place.”

The groundwork for the translation, as described in
the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, had been done many years
earlier.  Rodkinson, therefore,
concludes that he is able to do “one page of gemara with all of the
commentaries necessary for the work,” without the pilpul, for he has
already read all of it in its entirety, as well as the Jerusalem Talmud, the
Tosefta, and Mishnayot in the winter of 1883-84.  Some pages will not even require a full hour, but a half hour
will be sufficient.  He feels that he is
capable of learning and understanding five pages of gemara daily that will [then]
be ready for the press, with the result that, by working five hours a day, the
entire project will only take about 550 days.[10]

As noted above, Rosh Hashana was translated by
Rabbi J. Leonard Levy (1865-1917), rabbi of the Reform Congregation Keneseth
Israel, Philadelphia.  He had officiated
previously in congregations in England and California, and would later be rabbi
of Congregation Rodeph Shalom, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
Levy was the founder of the Philadelphia Sterilized Milk, Ice and Coal
Society, and the author of several books, among them a ten-volume Sunday
Lectures. 

That Levy was the translator of Rosh Hashana
was well known at the time.  For
example, the entry for Levy in capsule bibliographies of officiating Rabbis and
Cantors in the United States in the American Jewish Year Book for 5664,
1903-1904, includes among his accomplishments, “Translation of Tractate Rosh
Hashana of the Babylonian Talmud.”[12]
 Indeed, Rodkinson thanks Levy in
the Hebrew introduction to Rosh Hashana, acknowledging that the
translator, Levy, not only worked without compensation, but also took the time
to go over each and every word with him before it went to press.  Nevertheless, Rodkinson writes, there is
absolutely nothing in the translation that he has not verified to the original.[13]

Levy also translated a portion of the first chapter of
Berakhot, printed in the Atlantic Coast Jewish Annual.[14]
The title-page states “Tract Berakhoth (‘Benedictions’) of the Unabbreviated
Edition of the Babylonian Talmud Translated into English for the first time by
Rabbi J. Leonard Levy . . . Translator of Tract ‘Rosh Hashana’ of the Talmud
Babylonian, etc. etc.  To appear in
Quarterly Parts. . . .”  Levy’s work
here, apparently, was not meant to be an abridgement, or a restoration of the “original
Talmud.”  The English text, from the
beginning of the tractate to the middle of 6a in standard editions, includes
Hebrew phrases and accompanying footnotes.

The title-pages to the “New Edition of the Talmud”
state that they were translated into English by Michael L. Rodkinson.  No other translator or collaborator is
mentioned, nor is anyone else credited with such a role in the History of
the Talmud.  We have already seen
that in the sample volume, Rodkinson’s role is defined as editing, formulating
and punctuating.  The Prospectus informs
us that “The Rev. Dr. Grossman of Detroit will undertake ‘Yumah,’ and the Rev.
Dr. Stoltz, of Chicago, ‘Moed Katan,’” and that other tractates will be revised
by “competent authorities of English diction,” and the translation of Rosh Hashana
was done by Rabbi Levy.  However, by the
time that the New Talmud was being sold to the public the only name mentioned,
and as translator at that, is Rodkinson. 
While some commentators mention that other hands are visible in the
work, none of the rabbinic figures associated with the translation seem to have
objected to Rodkinson’s omission of their names.  Perhaps this may be attributed, as we shall see, to the responses
to the New Talmud and, most likely, a wish by the more prominent translators,
to distance themselves from it.

How did Rodkinson justify this?  In the introduction to Rosh Hashana
he remarks that books are not called by the names of multiple authors, but
rather by one writer, for example, the redactors of the Talmud, Ravina and Rav
Ashi.[15]  How then, and by whom was the translation
done?  Morris Vinchevsky, who wrote for ha-Kol
for two years, from 1877 through 1878, and was, during that time, a frequent
guest in the Rodkinson home, describes Rodkinson as being driven to translate
the Talmud into English, even though

he did not know a hundred English expressions.  How did he do the translation? Through
‘exploitation’ of indigent young men, with the help of his son (partially), and
the assistance of others.  The principle
was the translation.  Whether the
translations were good or bad – let the forest judge, as Shakespear says (As
You Like It).  Rodkinson was never
pedantic.  Whether earlier or later, for
better or worse, between impure or pure, never mattered.  Not because he was undisciplined and
anarchic, but because he was preoccupied all his days and involved with matters
that were not within his power.  For
that reason he was not careful about the cleanliness of his teeth, and perhaps
if he had, in his later years, false teeth, he would have carried them in his
pocket, as did the late Imber, owner of ha-Tikva, in his time.[16]

An example of Rodkinson’s difficulty with English can
be seen from the title-page of the sample volume issued in 1895, which refers
to him as, “Formerly Editor of the Hebrew ‘CALL,’” that is, ha-Kol.  The translation of ha-Kol, correctly
rendered on his German title-pages as Der Stimme, is “The Voice”, not
“CALL.”  The family has confirmed that
Rodkinson was not fluent in English. 
Who then, did translate the Talmud into English for Rodkinson? According
to Vinchevsky, the work was done by the “‘exploitation’ of indigent young men”
whom Deinard reports were paid eight dollars a week for their work.[17]  A fuller description is given by Judah D.
Eisenstein (1854-1956), who writes that, not understanding the English
language, Rodkinson employed Jewish high school students.  He translated the Talmud into Yiddish for
them, and they than translated it into English.  After they had worked for him for a short time, Rodkinson,
claiming their translation was unsatisfactory, dismissed them without
payment.  He then hired more young men,
repeating the process.[18]

A  considerable
part of the work appears to have been done by family members.  Mention is made, in the Prospectus, of
Rodkinson’s son Norbert.  Credit is also
due, based on the family’s oral tradition, to Rosamund, Rodkinson’s daughter
from his first marriage, who was his secretary and researcher.  Yet another family member who assisted him
was his nephew Abraham Frumkin. 
Rodkinson also made use of dictionaries, enabling him to also work on
the translation.  Nahum Sokolow
describes the process in a kinder fashion. 
“He didn’t know English – but his son did.  This would have deterred someone else, but not him.  This elderly man began to learn English, and
translated together with his son.  When
there were errors in the first volumes, they worked further to correct those
errors.  A man such as this is a living
melodrama.”[19]

There is a disquieting note to all of this.  It is clear from the above that many of
Rodkinson’s contemporaries knew that his English was insufficient for the
undertaking.  Nevertheless, Isaac Mayer
Wise, referring to Rodkinson’s proposed translation, wrote “he will be the man
to accomplish the task,” unless he meant in the role of editor, still a
daunting venture for someone not proficient in English.  Afterwards, Rodkinson was credited with
translating a difficult, complex work, written in Hebrew and Aramaic, into a
language that, if not foreign to him, was one in which he lacked literary
competence.  Some reviewers did comment
on the work of translating.  Kaufmann
Kohler, for example, wrote in his review, “there are different hands easily
discerned in the book,” and refers to Rodkinson as the editor.  Nevertheless, most reviewers accepted him as
the translator, and he is remembered for that achievement today.

Rosh Hashana
and Shekalim were quickly followed by Shabbat, in two parts.  Printed with Shabbat is a letter,
dated March 24, 1896, from the revisor, Dr. Wise, to the New Amsterdam Book
Company, and three introductory pieces by Rodkinson.  Wise writes:

I beg leave to testify herewith that I have carefully
read and revised the English translation of this volume of the “Tract Sabbath,”
Rodkinson’s reconstruction of the original text of the Talmud.  The translation is correct, almost literal,
where the English idiom permitted it.[20]

The first of Rodkinson’s pieces, the Editor’s Preface,
is the “A few Words to the English Reader” printed with Rosh Hashana,
slightly modified, with new concluding paragraphs.  Rodkinson writes that he is open to criticism that is objective
and will “gladly avail ourselves of suggestions given to us, but we shall
continue to disregard all personal criticism directed not against our work but
against its author.  This may serve as a
reply to a so-called review which appeared in one of our Western
weeklies.”  He concludes with heartfelt
thanks to Dr. Wise for “several evenings spent in revising this volume and for
many courtesies extended to us in general.” 
This is followed by a “Brief General Introduction to the Babylonian
Talmud,” where Rodkinson restates his opinion as to what has brought the Talmud
to its present condition:

Rabana Jose, president of the last Saburaic College in
Pumbeditha, who foresaw that his college was destined to be the last, owing to
the growing persecution of the Jews from the days of “Firuz.” He also feared
that the Amoraic manuscripts would be lost in the coming dark days or
materially altered, so he summoned all his contemporary associates and hastily
closed up the Talmud, prohibiting any further additions.  This enforced haste caused not only an
improper arrangement and many numerous repetitions and additions, but also led
to the “talmudizing” of articles directly traceable to bitter and relentless
enemies of the Talmud. . . . many theories were surreptitiously added by
its enemies, with the purpose of making it detestable to its adherents. . . .
This closing up of the Talmud did not, however, prevent the importation of
foreign matter into it, and many such have crept in through the agency of the
“Rabanan Saburai” and the Gaonim of every later generation.[21]

The third introduction, to tract Sabbath, includes
such remarks as “It has been proven that the seventh day kept holy by the Jews
was also in ancient times the general day of rest among other nations. . . .”[22]

The text of the remaining tractates are entirely in
English.  Much of the text is, as
Rodkinson had promised, revised, although expurgated might be a more accurate
description; particularly involved discussions or material disapproved of by
Rodkinson being omitted.  For example,
in the beginning of Yoma (2a), nineteen of the first thirty-one lines of
gemarah dealing with the parah adumah (red heifer) are omitted.
The first half of the verso (2b) has a discussion of a gezeirah shavah
(a hermeneutic principle based on like terms) concerning the application of the
term tziva (command) to Yom Kippur, also omitted.  There are no references to the standard
foliation, established with the editio princeps printed by Daniel
Bomberg (1519/20-23), nor, except for biblical references imbedded in the text,
are the indices accompanying the Talmud, prepared by R. Joshua ben Simon Baruch Boaz for the Giustiniani Talmud (1546-51)
either present or utilized. 
There are occasional accompanying brief footnotes.  Rodkinson informs the reader in “A Word to
the Public,” at the beginning of Ta’anit, that Rashi’s commentary has,
wherever practical, been “embodied in the text,” denoted by parentheses.  Where this was not practical, due to the
vagueness of the phraseology, it has been made an integral part of the
text.  When Rash’s commentary is “insufficient
or rather vague” he makes use of another commentary.

The New Talmud does not include all of the treatises
in the Babylonian Talmud.  All the
tractates in Orders Nashim and Kodashim are omitted, as well as
tractates Berakhot and Niddah, the only treatises in Orders Zera’im
and Tohorot, respectively.  The
absence of Berakhot, a popular tractate dealing with prayers and
blessings, is surprising, for sample pages, as noted above, were sent out prior
to the publication of this Talmud.  In
fact, Rodkinson had planned to print Berakhot initially, but, as he
relates in the Hebrew introduction, difficulties with the printer prevented him
from completing that tractate.  The New
Talmud was completed with a supplementary volume, The History of the Talmud
from the time of its formation. . . . Made up of two volumes in one, it is
much more than a history of the Talmud. 
As we shall see, Rodkinson used this book as a vehicle to discuss the
publication of his Talmud, his opponents, and the deleterious consequences of
their opposition.

The translation received favorable mention in Reform,
secular and even Christian journals. 
These reviews are general in nature, acknowledging the difficulties of
the task undertaken, and the concomitant benefit of opening what was previously
a closed work to a wider public.

Excerpts from these reviews are reprinted in The
History.  Among them are extracts
from The American Israelite, founded by I. M. Wise, which describes the
translation as a “work which is a credit to American Judaism; a book which
should be in every home . . . a work whose character will rank it with the
first dozen of most important books,” and again, after the appearance of volume
VIII, in 1899, “the English is correct, clear, and idiomatic as any celebrated
English scholar in London or Oxford could make it. We heartily admire also the
energy, the working force of this master mind, the like of which is rare, and
always was. . . .” The Home Library review, printed in its entirety,
concludes, “The reader of Dr. Rodkinson’s own writings easily recognizes in his
mastery of English style, and his high mental and ethical qualifications, ample
assurance of his ability to make his Reconstructed Talmud an adequate text-book
of the learning and the liberal spirit of modern Reformed Judaism.  To Christian scholars, teachers, and
students of liberal spirit, his work must be most welcome.”[23]

In the New York Times – Saturday Review of Books
(June 19, 1897) the unnamed reviewer expresses considerable skepticism
concerning the contemporary worth of the Talmud, but concedes it an antiquarian
value comparable to the Egyptian Book of the Dead.  Nevertheless, “looking at Mr. Michael L.
Rodkinson’s work as literature, it is a production which has required a vast
amount of knowledge and infinite patience. 
The knowledge of the Hebrew has been profound, and the intricacies of
the text are all made clear and plain. . . . An amazing mass of material in
these two volumes will delight the ethnologist, the archaeologist, and the
folklorist, for certainly before the publication of this work, access to the
Talmud has been well-nigh impossible to those who were not of Semitic origin.”  The reviewer finds the strongest endorsement
of the work in the testimony of the Rev. Isaac Wise.

Additional reviews, also positive, were published with
the completion of volume VIII on Seder Moed in 1899.  The New York Times reviewer now writes (November 25, 1899)
that “The importance of Mr. Rodkinson’s work need not be questioned.  The Talmud as he has translated it will take
its place in all theological and well appointed libraries indifferent as to
creed.”  A third review (July 7, 1900),
at the time of the appearance of the volume IX, begins “Mr. Rodkinson must be
admired for the courage, perseverance and untiring industry with which he has
undertaken and continues to present the English speaking public the successive
volumes of the Talmud.”  The review
concludes, however, with a cautionary note suggesting Rodkinson “procure for
the coming volumes a more careful revision of the translation, because,
according to the ‘pains (or care) so much more the reward of appreciation.’”

The American Israelite (August 17, 1899) enthusiastically endorses the work
by “the great Talmudist, Rodkinson” taking “special pride” in his “gigantic
work” and urging support for “this great enterprise.”  To the question as to how Rodkinson came to this “exceptional
clearness” it responds “Mr Rodkinson never frequented any Yeshibah in
Poland or elsewhere; so he never learned that Pilpulistic, scholastic
wrangling and spouting . . . he is entirely free from this corruption, and this
is an important recommendation for his English translation.”  The Independent reviewed the
translation at least five times.  The
second review (April 7, 1898) notes the opposition to Rodkinson’s translation, and
concludes, “If it is not satisfactory let a syndicate of rabbis do better.”  The Evangelist (November 18, 1897),
echoing Rodkinson, remarks that the Talmud was previously “almost inaccessible
to even Hebrew students” due to the fact that its text is “to the last degree
corrupt, marginal notes and glosses having crept in to an unprecedented degree,
owing to the fact that it was kept in manuscript for generations after the
invention of printing.”  Previous
attempts to edit the text were hopeless, a complete revision of the text being
required.  “Rabbi Rodkinson has at last
effected this textual revision . . . a very valuable contribution to
scholarship.”

Several of the later volumes include a reproduction of
the Grand Prize Diploma from the Republique Francaise, Ministere du Commerce
de l’Industrie des Postes et des Telegraphes Exposition Universelle de 1900
for, according to the accompanying description, “the first translation (into a
modern language) of the Babylonian Talmud. 
The name of the translator leads those in Group III, Class 13, of the
American Collection Exhibit.  Presented
by the International Jury of Awards, August 18, 1900.”  Here it is.

Praise in Reform, Christian and secular journals,
awards and faint praise from foreign dignitaries notwithstanding, there was
significant criticism of the New Edition of the Babylonian Talmud.  Skepticism at an English translation of the
Talmud was expressed by no less astute an observer of the Jewish scene than
Abraham Cahan:

I hear they are translating the Talmud into modern
languages.  It cannot be done.  They may render the old Chaldaic or Hebrew
into English, but the spirit which hovers between the lines, which goes out of
the folios spreading over the whole synagogue, and from the synagogues over the
out-of-the-way town, over the dining table of every hovel, over the soul of
every man, woman, or child; that musty, thrilling something which should be
called Talmudism can no more be translated into English or German or French
than the world of Julius Caesar can be shipped . . . to the Brooklyn Bridge.[24]

Less nostalgic, more critical, and certainly more
analytical than the positive reviews, were the negative responses to the “New
Edition of the Babylonian Talmud.” 
These reviews were written by individuals with Talmudic training, as
well as scholarly credentials, for whom the Talmud was not a closed book.  They were, therefore, capable of properly
evaluating Rodkinson’s achievement. 
Among the numerous negative articles are three by individuals whose
endorsements for the projected translation had been printed in the prospectus:
B. Felsenthal, M. Jastrow, and Kaufmann Kohler. All took special exception to
Rodkinson’s claim of having restored the original Talmud, apart from their
criticism of the translation.  Indeed, there
is considerable irony in the fact that these reviews were written by Reform
rabbis who had earlier expressed support for the concept of the New Talmud.

Marcus Jastrow (1829-1903), rabbi of Rodeph Shalom
Congregation from 1866 to 1892, when he became rabbi emeritus, is primarily
remembered today for his monumental A Dictionary of the Targumim, the
Talmud, Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature (London and New
York, 1886-1903).  He was also editor of
the Department of Talmud of the Jewish Encyclopedia.  Jastrow reviewed Rosh Hashana, edited
by Rodkinson and translated by Levy, in The Jewish Exponent (June 14,
1895), contrasting their respective endeavors:

Let it be said in the premises that, while the edition
of the original text has not a single redeeming feature which the reviewer
would have been but too glad to welcome, especially as he is one of those that,
misled by the editor’s specious representations, recommended his work, however
guardedly this may have been done: there is a great deal to commend in the
translator’s work, which must be welcomed by every friend of Talmudic
literature as a first and, as a whole, successful attempt to lend a modern
(English) garb to that peculiar mode of thought and logical deduction which the
Talmud represents.

Jastrow continues, that instead of the expected
abridgement useful for beginning students, it “claims to be a critical
edition,” eliminating passages added with the “malicious intention of
discrediting that luckless book.”  Not
only are these premises absurd, but “the editor’s interminable and abstruse
prefaces serve to illustrate his utter incompetency to attack a problem of
purgation. . . .” For example, “What can one expect from one who . . .
believes, in all earnestness, that a Christian hand has succeeded in smuggling
the second Psalm (Lamah Rag’shu) into our canon. . . .”  The reviewer notes that there are fourteen
abbreviations in the first twenty-one lines. 
Passages are rendered unintelligible by the lack of a natural sequence.  Jastrow concludes his discussion of
Rodkinson’s contribution: “We gladly leave this dark production of medieval
scholasticism with the gloss of modern scholarship . . . to enter the sunlit
fields of modern English in the translator’s preface and translation.”  Jastrow congratulates Levy for his efforts,
but notes there are mistakes, which reflect the haste with which the work was
done, and inconsistencies in the translation of technical terms.  Jastrow concludes with the wish that the
translator will “give us the benefit of a translation from an entire,
unabridged and unmutilated text.”

Kaufman Kohler (1843-1926) was a leader of the radical
branch of Reform Judaism and served, from 1903 to 1921, as president of Hebrew
Union College.  His review of Shabbat,
of the “New Talmud Translation by Rodkinson and Wise,” appeared in The
American Hebrew (July 17, 1896). 
Kohler, whose endorsement stated that he “indorsed the opinions
expressed by” the others, became, after seeing a printed tractate, a severe
critic of the translation.  He writes
that, to his regret, he “must entirely disagree with the venerable President of
the Cincinnati College,” that is, Dr. Wise. 
After comparing the translated text to standard editions he finds it to
be “utterly defective and unreliable.” 
He remarks that “in almost every uncommon word a degree of ignorance is
displayed which is simply appalling. 
The Palestinian town B’nei B’rak, known to every child that learns the
Pesach Haggada, is translated . . . ‘the children of Barak’. . . R. Isaac the
[black]smith as Isaac of Naphia . . . in the note we are informed by the
reviser that Nap’hia is the city whence R. Isaac came.”  Kohler notes that the translator in not
conversant with either traditional or modern dictionaries of Talmudic
terminology.  Rather, he “transcribes
and translates every foreign word in the crudest possible manner.  And yet he pretends to know.”  For example, a form of locust is translated
as Vineyard bird and described in a note 
as unknown to the commentators.  It
is, however, recorded in the dictionaries and “was no bird but a kind of
locust.  Such proofs of ignorance are
given in many a note.”[25]

Kohler takes issue not only with the translation of
terms but also with the fact that, “There are sins against the very spirit of
Talmudic lore which cannot be forgiven.” 
Indeed, “the vandalism perpetrated against the text is
unparalleled.  He mutilates and murders
the finest passages without the least cause. 
He garbles and spoils the best of sentences. . . . The very first page
of the Gemara is so mutilated, bone and marrow of the passages quoted so cut
and spoiled, that a comprehension of the whole is made impossible.”  Kohler concludes:

What he understands by scholarship is brought to light
in his introduction, about which it is not too much to say that, from beginning
to end, it abounds with false and foolish statements.  In one word, the work is a disgrace to Jewish scholarship in
America, and it is a sin to encourage, or support it.

J. D. Eisenstein, (1855-1956), author and editor of
the Hebrew encyclopedia, Ozar Yisrael (1907-13), and editor of such
anthologies as Ozar Midrashim (1915), Ozar Derushim and Ozar
Dinim u-Minhagim (1918), had written articles for ha-Sanegor, a
Rodkinson publication.  He wrote reviews
of both Rosh Hashana and Shabbat, first published in Ner
Ma’aravi.[26]  The first review begins with an appreciation
of the Talmud, recognizing that it is a complex and difficult work.  Efforts were made, therefore, as early as
the time of R. Ahai Gaon, to assist students of the Talmud.  The monumental works of Rambam (Maimonides)
and the Rif (Rav Alfas) were designed to address the complexities of the
Talmud, by selecting halakhic material only.  One result of their efforts was an increase, rather than a diminishment,
of Talmud study.  He is not, therefore,
inherently opposed to an abridgement of the Talmud.  Nevertheless, Eisenstein writes, he is ashamed to include this “dwarf”
with those giants, for it is tantamount to comparing a gnat to the Leviathan,
or a dark candle to the sun.  Where
those giants labored for years, this abridger thinks to learn the entire Torah
while standing on one foot, in a time that is neither day nor night.

Eisenstein enumerates eight categories of errors, each
supported by examples, in his review of Rosh Hashana,.  The first, dealing with errors in the
meaning of the Talmud, begins with “the abridgers” statement that he has not
added even a single letter but only removed unnecessary material.  This is reminiscent of the English Bible in
the museum in London, where the copyists transcribed the Ten Commandments,
omitting one word, “not” before 
“adultery,” adding nothing.[27]
 His final category of errors
deals with the abridgement of Rashi.  Eisenstein
finds misrepresentations in the Hebrew abridgement of that exegete, and in
references to Rashi in the English by the translator, Levy.  He concludes this review by stating that his
purpose was not to “shoot arrows of hate, and envy, nor to diminish the
reputation of the author,” but only to review the book, not the writer, and
therefore invites him to respond with reasons, for “it is Torah and we must
learn.”[28]

            In his review of Shabbat
Eisenstein suggests that the Jewish Publication Society undertake a proper
translation of the Talmud, for which we will bless the author [Rodkinson] for
being the inspiration for such a work. 
Noting that Rodkinson has said, correctly, that he would not respond to
personal attacks, Eisenstein writes that with this review he will refrain as
much as possible from mentioning the author; instead he will take that new
invention, the x-ray machine, to reveal the mistakes and errors in Shabbat,
which, perchance the author will agree to acknowledge and correct.  Eisenstein, instead of referring to
Rodkinson, now limits his references to the author.  He reviews the three introductions to Shabbat, and then
enumerates eighteen categories of errors in the abridged translation, supported
by 125 examples.  Rodkinson is accused
of perverting and misrepresenting the intent of the Talmud, mistranslating,
omitting references necessary to the passage under discussion, and for
referring to material that he has omitted.

The Rev. Dr. Bernard Felsenthal (1822-1908), author of
several books in German and English, among them works to be used in Hebrew
studies, was, at the time the New Talmud was published, Rabbi Emeritus of Zion
Congregation, Chicago, where he had officiated from 1863 to 1887.  Felsenthal wrote three pieces in the Reform
Advocate, the last a review taking four installments to complete, as well
as an open letter to Rodkinson, printed in the American Israelite and
the Chicago Israelite.  He also
wrote a critical letter to the editor in Ner Ma’aravi, in which he
states that he concurs with Eisenstein’s review.[29]

Felsenthal’s letter of endorsement, dated February 14,
1895, was particularly warm, recognizing the need for an abridgement of the
Talmud for students, and even rabbis, who do not have the time to master the “intricacies
of the dialectics” of the Talmud.  He
too, therefore, recommends the “intended publication.”  Three months later (May 11, 1895), however,
Felsenthal writes that his earlier approval of Mr. R.’s literary project was
not in “in the hope that he would lay before us ‘the Original Babylonian
Talmud,’ or the supposed ‘Talmud Yashan,’” but only in so far as it is,
or will be, “an abridgement of the Talmud, a ‘Talmud katzer.’” He
discusses the difficulty inherent in establishing a corrected text, and the
proper manner of approaching such a task. 
Felsenthal concludes, “I would respectfully suggest that Mr. Rodkinson
may descend from his high horse and that he may modestly restrict himself to
the work of editing merely a Talmud katzer for the use of younger
students and autodidacts.”  One week
later, in “An Additional Word Concerning Rodkinson’s New Talmud Edition,” he
observes that it is “not more than right and proper” to note that another copy
of Rosh Hashana has reached him, in which, on both the Hebrew and
English title-pages, the “words have been eliminated by which the editor had
claimed his work to be a restoration of the original Talmud, as it was,
in his opinion, in its pristine form.” 
That being the case, if Mr. Rodkinson restricts himself to an
abridgement or anthology, Felsenthal writes, much of what he said in the
previous issue “falls to the ground and becomes gegenstandlos.”

Subsequently (September 14 – October 5, 1895),
Felsenthal takes Rodkinson to task for his comments, in response to criticism,
that his purpose is “to purge the Talmud from the many falsifications . . . it
received by the hands of its enemies and thereby to restore the real
Talmud, the original Talmud in its pristine form. . . .”  Felsenthal’s introductory remarks, as harsh
as those of Kohler and Eisenstein, dismiss the abridged translation “as an
absolute failure,” neither useful as a school text-book nor for scholarly
purposes, “manufactured, as the author himself naively informs us, in a
mechanical way by the use of lead pencils and a pair of scissors.  Certain pieces, first marked by a red or
blue pencil, are cut out, and the remaining pieces are then glued together as
well as it may be.  In an average, our
manufacturer thus finishes, as he tells us, five pages in one day.”  The result is “a mutilated Talmud,
aye, it is a falsified Talmud.” 
The omission of intricate pilpul, a main characteristic of the
Talmud, which the Talmud itself repeatedly speaks of, is a falsification of
that work.

Felsenthal takes Rodkinson to task for “throwing
aside” passages which demonstrate intolerance or hostility towards gentiles as
foreign to the spirit of the Talmud, claiming the insertions were
surreptitiously smuggled into the text by enemies of the Talmud.  Felsenthal comments, “How, in heavens name,
did now ‘the enemies of the Talmud’ manage to double and treble the bulk of the
Talmud by inserting clandestinely and unbeknown to the rabbis and students such
enormous additions?” In one example at the beginning of the third installment,
a passage Rodkinson claims “never existed in Talmudical Judaism,” but rather is
a falsification, is found to exist in parallel passages elsewhere, including
the same tractate and in the Jerusalem Talmud. 
In the final installment of his review he suggests that Mr. M. L.
Rodkinson take as his next project the revision of the Hebrew Bible, purging it
from the many interpolations and falsifications Christian enemies “smuggled
stealthily into the Sacred Scriptures of the Jews during some dark night while
the Jews were off their guard!”

Felsenthal notes that passages declared by R. “To be
too difficult to be translated are ill selected.”  For example, “the word tzaphun (treasure), and the word is
taken there in the sense of tzaphon (North).  This agadic method of applying Biblical words and of connecting
with them new ideas, is to be met with on almost every page of Talmudical
literature.”  In relationship to another
example cited by Rodkinson, Felsenthal comments, “It is extremely easy, and a
tyro in Talmudic studies might master it.” 
He notes Rodkinson’s infelicitous transliterations, and writes:

And this man, so unlettered and so uncultured; this
man so without any mental discipline and without any methodical training; this
man to whom even the elementary rules of Nikud [vocalization] are an
unknown country; this man who has not the remotest idea what the words ‘canon
of correct criticism’ mean; this man who even to some extent is a stranger in
his particular field of learning, in talmudical literature and what is
pertaining thereto; – this man undertakes to issue a critical edition of the
Talmud!

Not only did individuals providing endorsements
withdraw their support.  At least one of
Rodkinson’s collaborators, R. Levy, the translater of  Rosh Hashana, also, apparently, dissociated himself from
the project.  Richard Gottheil,
reviewing Levy’s translation of Berakhot, writes in the Jewish
Messenger (May 22, 1896), “I suppose that the word ‘unabbreviated’ is a
disclaimer of any further connection with Mr. Rodkinson’s pseudo-critical work,
with which Mr. Levy’s name was at one time connected.”  Gottheil then praises Levy’s translation,
which he describes “as readable as such a translation can possibly be, even at
the certain expense of minor inaccuracies.”

The tepid reception of the New Edition of the
Babylonian Talmud was recognized in the press. 
For example, the Independent (September 28, 1899), which
expresses ongoing support for Rodkinson and his translation, observes that “We
regret that this enterprise – tho it might be criticized – is not better
patronized. The work should go into a multitude of libraries of Biblical
students.” Chagrin at the negative reviews of the “New Talmud” are voiced in an
editorial in the American Israelite (September 19, 1901), which restates
their initial support for the project. 
The editor writes:

The complaint voiced through the Jewish press that
Rodkinson’s translation of the Talmud is not receiving the support which its
merits deserve is very much in the nature of self accusation.  The truth is that the great undertaking has
never been able to overcome the onslaught originally made upon it.  Recognizing its great value, the late editor
of this paper [Isaac M. Wise] gave to the work . . . his earnest encouragement
and support, which, instead of being seconded by the Jewish press and rabbinate
was met by a torrent of abuse and misrepresentation.  . . . As soon as unbiased reviewers were made aware of its merits
they changed their unfavorable attitudes, but it was too late to overcome the
prejudice created by the first impression. 
. . . the non-Jewish press depended largely upon Jewish sources for
their information in regard to this work, and therefore reflected the
unfavorable opinion expressed by supposed Jewish authorities.[30]

Rodkinson expressed his disappointment in the second
revised printing of tractates Shabbat and Rosh Hashana in
1901.  The title-pages of these
tractates, unlike those of the other tractates in the second (1916-18) edition,
state, “Second edition, re-edited, revised and enlarged.”  Shabbat has a “Preface to the second
edition” dated June, 1901, which reflects Rodkinson’s disappointment at the
reception to his translation.  He
writes:

The translator of the Talmud, who has now reached the
thirteenth volume of his task, covering twenty one tracts of this great work, certainly
cannot point with any great pride to the fact that this is the second edition
of his translation which first appeared in 1896, for he believes that the
opening and bringing to light of a book so long withheld from the gaze of the
curious, and even the learned, should have attracted more attention and
deserved greater consideration than it has received.  However, he is glad to see that thousands of readers have at last
taken advantage of the opportunity of looking into the ‘sealed book,’ and to
such an extent that second editions have become necessary, both of this volume
and of the tract Rosh Hashana of the fourth volume, which he has enlarged upon,
adding many historical facts and legends, so that they now appear as
practically new works.

This is certainly an encouragement to him to continue
his work, with the hope that it will gain the proper recognition and proper
attention which he thinks this great work of the sixth century should receive
at the hands of all scholars and even laymen.

The modifications between the 1896 edition of Shabbat
and the second edition are insignificant. 
In the prefatory material, the photographs of Rodkinson and Wise have
been omitted, and a dedication to Edwin R. A. Seligman, Professor of Political
Science at Columbia University, dated June 15, 1901, followed by the preface to
the second edition, has been added. 
There are unsubstantial modifications to the editor’s preface.  Part one of Shabbat, that is,
chapters one through ten, is five pages longer.  Part two of Shabbat, chapters eleven through twenty-four,
has not been revised and is identical to the first edition.  An example of these modifications is the
first Mishnah, which concluded “or puts something into it, which is drawn to
the inside by the master, – they are both not guilty,” now reads “or puts
something into it which is drawn to the inside by the master, they are both
free.” The following gemara has been modified to include a cross reference,
thus: “We were taught elsewhere:” to “We were taught (Shebuoth, IV.2):”.

As noted above, the Talmud was completed with a
supplementary volume, The History of the Talmud from the time of its
formation . . ., comprised of two volumes in one.  This book, we are told in the preface, is to some extent based on
the work of Dr. A. Mielziner; as it “contains essentially all that concerns the
Talmud itself, we resolved to take it as a text for our historical
introduction, adding and abating as we deemed necessary.”  The first volume is a history of the Talmud,
from its inception through the Rholing-Block (sic) affair.[31]  It is followed by an appendix, which
includes material on varied subjects, many not pertinent to the books subject
matter, and a second appendix on the Karaites, Reformed Jews and resurrection.

Publication of the History provided an
opportunity to revisit the translation, which, all the previous, detailed
criticism notwithstanding, continued to find approval, at least in non-Jewish
circles.  The Nation (December
24, 1903) noted the “storm which greeted the first volumes, but which now,
happily, is blowing over. . . . Its causes were evidently in great part
personal and racial.  Dr. Rodkinson’s
work, on the other hand, has now passed to a public beyond all such limitations
and jealousies.”  Rodkinson is described
as “a most learned Talmudist of the ancient type,” whose ability to overcome
his early rabbinic education to be able to translate the Talmud into an “English
most able and nervous at that, is only another proof of the possibilities
inherent in the Jewish race and of the transforming and assimilating power of
our civilization.”  Rodkinson’s original
intent of restoring the original text of the Talmud, is compared to the task “of
editing the Arabic text of ‘The 1,001 Nights,’ a similarly gigantic oral and
floating compilation.”  The reviewer
concludes that “the translation should be heartily welcomed, and the iron
industry of the translator – brazen-bowelled as was ever Greek grammarian –
must be admired and commended.  He is
doing a piece of work of which he may well be proud. . . .”  The reviewer is equally pleased with the History.   The Catholic World (November, 1904)
describes the translation as a “memorable event indeed for both scholarship and
religion.”  It is less pleased with Dr.
Rodkinson’s introductory volume, The History of the Talmud, which is “hardly
so instructive as we should have expected.”

Criticism, or disapproval, was not restricted to
reviews, nor was it always direct. 
Solomon Schecter (1847-1915), 
lecturer in rabbinic theology at Cambridge University and, from 1902,
head of the Jewish Theological Seminary, rejected, as reported in the History,
a request from Rodkinson to attend lectures at that insitution.  Schecter puts Rodkinson off, writing, “I
have not at the moment any copy of the hours of the lectures either, nor do I
really think it would be profitable for you to attend an occasional lecture, as
you suggest. . . .”[32]

Criticism was also expressed by simply ignoring the
New Talmud.  Subsequent translations
into English either ignore or are critical of Rodkinson.  Samuel Malter, who translated Ta’anit
(Philadelphia, 1928), refers in passing to the New Talmud, by writing, “and an
uncritical fragmentary English translation (L. Rodkinson), none of which was
of  any aid to me.[33]
 Dr. J. H. Hertz, Chief Rabbi of
England, writes, in the introduction to the Soncino press translation of the
Talmud, “A reliable English translation of the whole Babylonian Talmud has long
been looked forward to by scholars.” In an address praising the Soncino Talmud,
he remarks that “Super-American hurry in the publication must be avoided,” and
in another address, “The Talmud as a Book,” he notes the Goldschmidt German and
Soncino English translations, but makes no mention of the Rodkinson effort.[34]

Michael Levi Rodkinson died of pneumonia on January 6,
1904.  He was buried in the public, that
is, non-denominational, section of Temple Israel Cemetery (then part of Mount
Hope Cemetery), Hastings On Hudson, New York, next to his second wife, Amalia.  His tombstone states that he is the
translator of the Babylonian Talmud. 
Rodkinson left, according to the publication list at the end of the History
of the Talmud, a number of manuscripts, among them The Fiftieth Jubilee
(a voluminous book of his autobiography). 
His death was briefly noted in an obituary in the New York Times
(January 8, 1904), which stated: “Rodkinson – Dr. Michael L. Rodkinson, editor
and translator of Babylonian Talmud, died Jan. 6, 1904.  Funeral will take place from his residence
Jan. 8, 1904 at 12 0′ clock noon.”  Brief
obituaries also appeared in The American Jewish Year Book (1904) and the
London Jewish Literary Annual.[35]

By the time of Rodkinson’s death even his supporters
had abandoned him.  In the Year Book
of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, Gotthard Deutsch (1859-1921),
Reform rabbi and professor of Jewish history at Hebrew Union College,
considered by many of his contemporaries, due to his meticulous attention to
detail, to be the foremost Jewish historian in the United States, writes, “Hesitatingly
I mention the name of Michael Levi Rodkinson, who died in New York, January 6,
1904.  While the result of his literary
activity is subject to severe criticism, we have to recognize both his
indefatigable energy and the shortcomings of our own public which considers the
demand of Jewish science rather a pretext for asking charity than a duty which
they owe themselves.”[36]
 The American Israelite, which
had often strongly defended Rodkinson’s translation, concluded its brief
obituary (January 14, 1904) with the remark that “He was rather an odd
character and had a hard struggle all his life to get means of subsistence
while doing his literary work.” A more informative obituary is in The
American Hebrew (January 16, 1904), which includes biographical
information, and then concludes, “We understand that the widow and the children
were left unprovided for, except for the proceeds from the sale of the Talmud
and the History of the Talmud.”

In 1926, Koheleth America, Deinard’s catalogue
of Hebrew books printed in America appeared. 
He succinctly describes Rosh Hashana and Shekalim,
observing that the approbations are from reformed rabbis “who concur with the
abridging of the Talmud – after they have all entirely forsaken the Torah of
Moses.”  He then remarks that the
success of Rodkinson’s condensation can be seen in I. D. Eisenstein’s review in
his Ma’amre Bikoret, where it is noted that the Reform rabbis who
initially supported the project subsequently publicly regretted giving that
support.[37]

After all of the criticism, the minor renewed interest
notwithstanding, Rodkinson remained generally neglected.  Where recalled, it was more often
negatively, and, concerning his translation, in a disparaging manner.  Rodkinson is not mentioned in Jewish
Publishing in America, nor in The Jews in America: A History.[38]  In the latter case, Albert Mordell,
reviewing the book for the Publication of the American Jewish Historical
Society, wrote, “Another woeful lack is that of mention of translations
from Hebrew classics in whole or part, even though some of these translations
were, like M. L. Rodkinson’s Talmud, not of a high order.”[39]   He is also neglected in Meyer Waxman’s A
History of Jewish Literature, where mention is made of several translations
in various languages.[40]
 Where the New Talmud is remembered it
is negatively, as in Yehuda Slutsky’s comment, “In his later years he devoted
himself to translating the Talmud.  The
value of this translation, printed in two editions, lies only in the fact that
it is a pioneering effort.”[41]  A biographer of Wise writes that “In 1898 he
gave his name to Michael Rodkinson’s quack translation of the Talmud. . . .”[42]   More
diplomatically, Jacob Rader Marcus, writes, that Rodkinson’s translations “were
anything but felicitous and did little to enhance the understanding of the
Talmud by non-Hebraists.”  Most
recently, R. Adam Mintz concludes that “Rodkinson’s work was rejected because
of its poor quality, and not because of an objection on principle to this type
of abridged translation.”[43]

Rodkinson took great pride in his translation of the
Talmud.  Indeed, his tombstone has an
inscription stating that he was the translator of the Babylonian Talmud, certainly
an attribution of questionable accuracy. 
It is ironic that Rodkinson, who did have other earlier accomplishments,
is credited with and remembered for, and negatively at that, a work for which
he was responsible and did oversee, but was, in truth, performed, either in its
entirety or in part, by others.

Internet Sacred Text Archive and Samizdat Express
simply reproduce the text and are neutral in outlook. Unfortunately, other Internet
sites, more often than not anti-Semitic, reference and quote from the New Talmud.  This is also the case with a number of
anti-Semitic books.  Most surprisingly,
to conclude on a relatively positive note, the New Talmud reappears on the
reading list for college courses, for example, a lecture on “The Tractate Avot
and Rabbinic Judaism,” in Reed College. 
It seems that Michael Levi Rodkinson’s New Talmud has in fact not been
forgotten.  Whatever its shortcomings, it
has found an audience and is alive today in new and unanticipated formats.