The Anatomy of an Auction: A Previously Undissected Body of Literature on the History of the Jews and Postmortem Dissection

 Rabbi Edward Reichman, MD 

The issue of autopsy and postmortem dissection has been exhaustively explored in halakhic literature.[1] If I were to ask where and when we find the first halakhic discussion about this topic, the immediate response would invariably be the teshuva of the Noda biYehuda, from the late eighteenth century.[2] It may be time to rewrite the medical halakhah history books. On Sunday, May 21 Genazym Auction House held its fifteenth auction. Lot #133 was a work entitled Pachad Yitzchak.

There are multiple works throughout history that bear the title Pachad Yitzchak. The modern reader will surely think of the work of Rav Yitzchak Hutner. The reader of this blog may also think of the first multi-volume halakhic encyclopedia, authored by Rabbi Dr. Yitzchak Lampronti (1679-1756). The volume offered for auction by Genazym is an earlier lesser-known composition of the same name by Yitzchak Hayyim Kohen me-haHazzanim (AKA Isaac Vita Cantarini)[3] published in 1685. 

Buried in Cantarini’s obscure work, in a section peripheral to the main theme of the book, we find a vivid and poetic description of a tragic incident relating to anatomical dissection.[4] Viewed in isolation, this incident merits historical attention due to its gravity. Yet, it merely reflects a much larger historical chapter about the Jews and postmortem dissection which long preceded the time of the Noda biYehuda and has remained largely undissected until now. But first a word about this work, its provenance and its author. 

The Work- Pachad Yitzchak (Amsterdam, 1685)[5]

The main subject of this work is the tale, told in poetic fashion, of the miraculous salvation of the Jewish congregation of Padua during the Austrian-Ottoman War in the year 1684. War erupted between the Austrian and Ottoman Empires in the year 1684 over the city of Buda (today part of Budapest). The virulently anti-Semitic Christian ruler of Padua spread a libel accusing the Jews of supporting the Muslim Turks in their battle against the Austrian Empire. His incitement caused an enraged crowd to break into the Padua Ghetto, yet the Jews miraculously persuaded the Venetian government to subdue the outburst. The Jews of Padua declared the 10th day of Elul as their Second Purim in gratitude for their miraculous salvation. This holiday was celebrated for many generations thereafter. 

However, the work also includes many additional unknown details of the history of the Jewish community and its rabbis. It is from this aspect of the book that we draw our discussion. 

Provenance

Regarding the item’s provenance, it was previously part of the William Gross Family Collection,[6] a significant portion of which has been recently sold at auction by both Kedem[7] and Genazym auction houses. Gross is a well-known prominent collector of Judaica and Hebraica and the selling of his collection is of historic significance. To see the collection of precious items united under one roof now become redistributed and disseminated across the world necessitates a moment of pause and reflection. Yet, this is the life cycle in the world of bibliophilia.[8] For centuries, passionate bibliophiles spent lifetimes amassing extraordinary and unique collections, only to have them subsequently sold piecemeal (for a variety of reasons) while still alive, or by less passionate heirs after death. Sometimes, however, collections are sold en bloc. An allusion to one such example is the image which appears on the bottom of the title page of the copy of Pachad Yitzchak sold at auction.  

This stamp, which is not mentioned in the catalogue description, indicates that this volume was previously part of the collection of Professor Lelio Della Torre. Della Torre was an Italian Jewish scholar of the nineteenth century, and prolific author, who served as a professor of Talmud and rabbinics at the rabbinical seminary in Padua, where Shadal also taught, from 1829 until his death in 1871. During this time, he was an avid collector of Hebraica. David Kaufmann, himself a renowned scholar and bibliophile, sought to procure Delle Torre’s collection upon the latter’s death. Kaufmann not only acquired Della Torre’s collection, but also that of Marco Mortara, a student of Shadal, and later Chief Rabbi of Mantua. Mortara’s collection in turn contained the library of Samuel Della Volta, whose life, work and library we discussed in this blog.[9]  All of these collections are now housed in the Hungarian Academy of Sciences Library in Budapest, to which Kaufmann bequeathed his library. This volume from Della Torre’s library somehow escaped the grasp of Kaufmann and traversed a different path, ultimately landing instead in the Gross Family Collection.[10]

The Author- Yitzchak Hayyim Cantarini (1644-1723)[11]

The Cantorini family were a prominent family of Kohanim who were also associated with the cantorial profession – hence the name Cantarini, or MinHaHazanim, as their Hebrew name reflects. Isaac Cantarini graduated from the University of Padua Medical School on February 11, 1664, one of many Cantarinis who earned their medical degrees from the university.[12] He authored a number of congratulatory poems in honor of Padua medical graduates.

After graduated from Padua, Cantarini went on to become a leading figure in Italian Jewry. He is considered one of the greatest Torah sages of his time, and his responsa have been published in both Yitzhak Lampronti’s Pachad Yitzhak and Samson Morpurgho’s Shemesh Tzedakah.[13] Cantarini wrote halakhic, historical, and homiletic works, as well as medical treatises in Latin. He was a poet, author, physician, and consummate orator; non-Jewish clergy and lay people attended his Shabbat sermons. In the year 5460 there were so many non-Jewish visitors in synagogue when he spoke that the regulars had to ascend to the women’s section (ezrat nashim) to pray.[14] He was a teacher of both Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto (Ramchal),[15] as well as Rabbi Yitzchak Lampronti.

Non-Jews sought Cantarini’s sage advice as well, as evidenced by his correspondence with the Christian intellectual Theophilio Ungar.[16]

Cantarini was known by his initials יחכם. He was also quite adept at word play, and Shadal mentions but one small example of his utilizing the acronym of his name in the introduction to a kinah he composed upon the passing of Rabbi Yehuda Briel:[17]

Shadal takes a stab at solving the riddle.

A Fearful Story in Pachad Yitzchak

The following story appears in the pages of Pachad Yitzchak.[18] On the 17th of Shevat 5440 (שנת מ”ת as per Cantarini), a young man by the name of Hananel (AKA Graziadio) Levi[19] died in the Ghetto. His body was prepared for burial, but in the interim, a band of raucous students from the University of Padua stormed the Ghetto, kidnapped the body, and whisked it away to the anatomy room in preparation for dissection and medical student instruction. The Jewish community was in an uproar, riots ensued, and all political channels were pursued to secure the return of the body. When initial efforts failed, some members of the Jewish community on their own initiative attempted unsuccessfully to enter the anatomy lecture hall under cover of night to procure the body. Ultimately, after one week, negotiations succeeded, and the Jews were promised by the University that they needn’t worry about similar infractions in the future, and that the bodies of the Jewish community would no longer be forcefully taken for anatomical dissection. 

Anatomy, the Jews, and the University of Padua- An Undissected Body of Literature

This frightening incident recounted in Pachad Yitzchak is significant in its own right, but here we situate it as part of a much larger narrative of anatomy, the Jews and the University of Padua, which began over a century earlier.

Since the Middle Ages, individual Jewish students experienced numerous hurdles to the completion of their medical training, many rooted in discrimination and antisemitism. It was sometime around the 16thcentury, however, as the result of the synchroneity of two major historical developments, that Jews, as a group, first encountered a new major challenge to their medical education. This challenge, unlike any previous, did not originate with their non-Jewish colleagues or institutions, but was self-imposed by the Jews. Its consequences however were no less severe.

In the beginning of the fifteenth century, the University of Padua became the first European university to officially allow admission of Jewish students for medical training.[20] This policy led to a gradual influx of Jewish students and the creation for the first time in history of a significant Jewish presence and recognizable entity in a consistent fashion on a university campus.[21] This positive development for the broader Jewish community[22] unwittingly evoked unanticipated consequences.

Simultaneous with the expansion of the Jewish community in Padua, a young professor on campus was quietly revolutionizing the study of anatomy. Andreas Vesalius, who arrived in Padua in 1537, began to hold frequent public and private anatomical displays and approached the study of human anatomical dissection in a systematic fashion not previously attempted.[23] He would later come to be known as the founder of modern anatomy. With his innovations came the expansion of the anatomy course in Padua. Anatomy became identified from then on as the most essential course in medical training, and Vesalius, along with the University of Padua, were leading the revolution. 

The Ramifications of Vesalius’ Contribution for the Jewish Community

Vesalius’s work formalized and expanded the teaching of human anatomy at the University of Padua, as well as at medical schools throughout the world. With the expansion of the course came the necessity to supply more cadavers for the dissection tables. To procure cadavers for the anatomy course, the university turned to both the judicial system as well as its students and their communities. Executed criminals served as one steady source of cadavers, but this did not suffice. 

Grave robbing became commonplace in order to supplement the source of bodies. The practice was even encouraged by Vesalius and, though technically illegal, was unofficially tolerated by the government. A ducal document from 1549, during Vesalius’s tenure in Padua, condemns grave robbing,[24] but the ever-present fear and reality of the practice also affecting the Jewish cemeteries.[25] Indeed, one scholar has suggested that one of the historiated letters in the Fabrica specifically depicts a scene of the grave robbing of a body from a Jewish cemetery.[26]

The scene depicts putti (cherubic figures common in Renaissance art) removing a body from a grave. The “o” on the flag held by one of the putti was the symbol Jews were required to wear on their clothing and may reflect that this was a Jewish cemetery depicted.

The emphasis on anatomy begun by Vesalius would continue long into the future. Soon the university would further invest in this venture by building the first example in the world of a permanent anatomical theater, completed in 1595 (after the death of Vesalius), created for teaching anatomy through the dissection of corpses. The theater still stands to this day. 

The supply of cadavers was a perennial challenge for the medical school, and as a result, the university sought additional creative ways to address the issue. At some stage they instituted each community which sent medical students for training at the university would be required to provide a certain number of bodies for the dissection table.[27] The Jewish community, like others on campus, was expected to provide cadavers for the yearly anatomy course. However, the Jewish students and community took issue with this expectation. As elated as Jews were to walk the halls of a premier university for the first time in history, this privilege would not compel the abrogation of ancient Torah principles. Jewish law forbids the dissection of the human body after death absent mitigating circumstances yielding direct and immediate life-saving benefit from the procedure.[28] The prohibitions of desecrating and deriving benefit from the corpse, as well as the obligation to bury the body preclude routine dissection or autopsy. 

This refusal of the Jews to provide bodies sparked outcry from both the university and its students. The tension created from this conflict would play out over centuries. It is reflected, for example, in multiple recorded incidents of Padua medical students attempting to kidnap Jewish bodies to provide for the anatomy course.[29] Although we have no starting date, already in the earliest Vesalian and post-Vesalian days in Padua a compromise was struck with the Jewish community providing a hefty financial compensation to absolve them from the cadaver obligation. However, this was not a one-time incident, and the anatomy issue persisted, with frequent renegotiation of terms over the years and increased tension resurfacing periodically. Despite the Senate’s repeated pronouncements, frequently the graves in the Jewish cemetery were violated. It was not uncommon for gravely ill patients to be transported out of Padua for fear of being dissected upon their death.[30] The Jews were compelled to construct secret hiding places in the Ghetto where the bodies could be concealed until the funeral. Often, they buried the dead under the cover of night to avoid the dissection table.[31]

One would have expected to find halakhic responsa from 16th and 17th century Italy discussing this topic, but the extant halakhic literature is silent. The first cases discussing autopsy only surface in the late 18th century. We do however find reference to this ongoing issue in the Padua Jewish community archives as well as in the administrative records of the city and University of Padua. We share these documents here, many for the first time. While not enshrined in the extant responsa literature, this community response to anatomical dissection surely reflects the considered rabbinic opinion and halakhic analyses of the local Padua rabbinate, to whom the community deferred on such matters. Prominent rabbis who served the Padua community, or were connected with the medical students during the period under discussion include Maharam Padua (1482-1565), Rabbi Yehuda Arye de Modena (1571-1648) and Rabbi Yehuda Briel (1643-1722), Rabbi Dr. Isaac Hayyim Cantarini (1644-1723), Rabbi Dr. Isaac Lampronti (1679-1756), and Rabbi Dr. Shimshon Morpurgo (1681-174), among others, and it is more than likely that they were involved, to some extent, in the discussions of the Jewish community regarding the provision of bodies to the medical school. 

The Padua Jewish Community Archives[32] 1624-1626

The Jewish community archives of Padua contain at least five entries from 1624 to 1626, discussed below, which directly address the anatomy issue. Daniel Carpi, the scholar of Italian Jewish history who transcribed and edited the archives, noted that since the Jews first settled in Padua the medical students requested from the Jewish community to provide to the university a specific percentage of Jewish bodies for use in the teaching of anatomy. The Jews refused and arranged a compromise to pay an annual ransom to absolve them from this obligation. However, the tension related to this matter never ceased, be it because the university continually raised the fee, or because they sometimes would only suffice with the supply of actual corpses for dissection. 

It is in this context that a tragic incident occurred in 1624 which frightened even the non-Jewish community. A group of students, led by a young anatomy professor, interrupted a Jewish funeral procession and attempted to kidnap the body. The agreement discussed in the first archival entry below appears to come on the heels of this incident in the hopes of preventing similar occurrences in the future.

April 19, 1624 (entry #545) compromise with the students during the season/days of dissection

In that the spirit of God has enlightened the esteemed philosopher Senior Cesare Cremonin to declare freedom (from dissection) for our deceased, through the continued annual designated payment to the students of the College of Arts, generation after generation. As a result, they are obligated to allow us to properly bury our dead during the season of dissection, lest anyone fear. Any violators will be fined, and they have coordinated with us to obtain from the government permission for a required fine for all who violate this agreement in a way amenable and sufficient for our needs. The aforementioned master Cesare and Yehudah Katz have already spoken on this matter and have begun discussion regarding the amount the Jewish community is willing to pay for this privilege. Therefore, to facilitate successful completion of these dealings, which will result in a salvation for our community, we present a parti to designate two members of our community,[33] even though they are not members of the committee, to negotiate directly with the aforementioned esteemed philosopher a sum which will then be presented to the community and the committee for a majority vote. 

Subsequent entries reflect the lengthy process of negotiation, implementation, and enforcement. A follow up entry from July 15, 1624 (entry # 554) states that the negotiations had been completed and a sum had been agreed upon with the government representative. The request is to approve the amount and facilitate payment. 

 An entry in the Padua University Archives from December 28, 1624 (pictured below) sheds a slightly different light on the negotiations, which may not have been officially ratified by the university.[34]

Here the university confirms an earlier privilege granted to the Jewish community by which those Jews studying medicine were granted free access to the anatomical theater, and the corpses of deceased Jews were to be left untouched by anatomical dissections due to strong religious objections to the procedure. For this privilege the Jews paid an annual sum of 100 Venetian pounds. The entry concludes, “the final decision on this proposal was delayed until the arrival of the “perillustris domini syndic.”[35] Parenthetically, this reveals that the agreements between the Jewish community and the university regarding Jewish cadavers date back to an earlier time.

An entry in the Jewish community archives some three weeks later (Entry # 566- January 21, 1625) corroborates the delayed decision of the university. It reiterates the need to arrive at an agreement between the Jewish community and the university to prevent the taking of Jewish bodies. A maximum fee of ten Ducat is set. This may have been a counteroffer to the much higher request of 100 ducats and explains why a specific number is mentioned here but not previously. 

May 17, 1626 (Entry #616)
Yet another entry reveals a creative solution to prevent grave robbing during the semester of anatomy.

Regarding designating two community representatives with the power to negotiate with Aharon Altarini to allow temporary burial[36] on his property (for community members) during anatomy season. They are granted permission to spend as much as necessary to appease those who oppose this practice.

While grave robbing was typically done secretly under the cover of night, some claims for Jewish bodies were more brazen. The entry of November 15, 1626 (Entry # 627) mentions a disturbing incident (mikre bilti tahor) of the interference of the medical students of Padua with the Jewish funeral procession of the wife of Moshe Fano (miPano). The incident, reminiscent of earlier similar episodes, appears to have been minor and fortunately did not escalate. Nonetheless, it precipitated another plea to find a long-term compromise with the university regarding the anatomy issue.

The Decree of 1672[37]

 On November 23, 1672, there was a decree reaffirming the Jews’ exemption from providing bodies for dissection and warning those who attempt to disturb the funerals or graves of members of the Jewish community. This decree appears in Jewish and governmental documents discussed below. It is unknown to me if or whether a specific historical event precipitated this reaffirmation.

The Case of Graziadio Levi and the Riots of 1679 

Here we position the story from Cantarini’s Pachad Yitzchak, occurring over a century after Vesalius’ expansion of the field of human anatomy with its subsequent creation of major halakhic and social problems for the Jewish community and its medical students. The event described by Cantarini which transpired in 1679[38] may have been the tipping point which led to a more serious and sustained response from the university. Following the death of a young Jew, Graziadio Levi, armed students stormed the Jewish ghetto in great numbers, kidnapped the corpse and brought it to the medical school in preparation for dissection. Riots ensued[39] and much effort was marshaled to rescue the body and provide a proper Jewish burial. The incident led to the issuance of a ducal letter dated February 27 of that year which rued the incident and emphatically reaffirmed the commitment by the university to protect Jewish corpses.[40]  As we have discussed, the events surrounding that fateful night in 1679 were recorded for posterity by Isaac Hayyim Cantarini in his Pachad Yitzchak. In the context of his recounting of the Levi affair, Cantarini mentions the earlier decree from November 23, 1672, protecting the bodies of the community from dissection. 

A record of the full 1679 decree is found in the Padua Civic Archives,[41] a copy of which I procured and present below. The name of Graziadio Levi is explicitly mentioned in the decree.

Ciscato transcribed the full text of the decree.[42]

The Central Archives of the History of the Jewish People possesses yet another record of the anatomy decrees. This unadorned document is a certified “copia” of the two decrees of 1672 and 1679.[43]

This was perhaps intended for archival records as opposed to public display. 

University (Governmental) Decrees Regarding Jewish Cadavers from 1672 to 1721

The Central Archives of the History of the Jewish People possesses yet another document, even more remarkable, related to the Padua anatomy decrees.[44] It includes not only one or even two decrees, but appears to be a summary or record of multiple decrees on the subject of cadavers, anatomy training at the medical school of Padua, and the Jewish community, spanning from 1672-1721. It includes the decrees of November 23, 1672, and February 27, 1679, as well as others. Furthermore, the presentation of these decrees, as an attractive broadside with calligraphy and illustrated header, indicates that it was likely intended for public display.[45]

Conclusion

In an obscure work published in 1685, recently offered for auction, appears an account of a tragic event involving the Jewish community and the dissection of human cadavers at the University of Padua. We have placed this seemingly isolated incident into a much broader historical context, fleshing out this chapter with new supportive archival material. For hundreds of years, beginning in the late sixteenth century, the Jewish community negotiated with the university for the right not to have Jewish bodies used for the anatomy course. There is no question that the local rabbinate of Padua must have been involved in these discussions and negotiations, though to what extent remains unknown. Refusal of the Jewish community to provide cadavers for dissection created major problems for both the many Jewish medical students who attended the university as well as for the Jewish community at large. The Jewish community’s restrictive position was premised entirely on halakhic grounds and would not have been sustainable throughout this lengthy period without significant rabbinic backing and support. Thus, while the extant published literature on autopsy begins with the Noda biYehudah in the late eighteenth century, there is little doubt that the halakhic discourse on the topic of anatomical dissection began long before.[46]

[1] For general discussions on anatomy and autopsy in Jewish law, see Kalman Kahana, “The Dissection of the Dead in Jewish Law: A Bibliography,” (Hebrew) haMa’ayan 7 (Tevet, 5727), 45-72; Avraham Steinberg, HaRefuah KiHalakhah 6 (Jerusalem, 2017), 512-550; Zev Farber and Irving Greenberg, “Autopsies I: A Survey of the Debate,” in Zev Farber, ed., Halakhic Realities (Maggid Books: Jerusalem, 2017), 323-417.
[2] For a discussion of the historical context of this teshuva, see Edward Reichman, “A Tale of Two Stones,” in The Anatomy of Halakha (Maggid/OU/YU Presses, 2022),
[3] Cantarini and Lampronti share at least one thing in common. They are both graduates of the University of Padua Medical School. Indeed, the passage in Cantarini’s work upon which I draw relates directly to the medical training at the university.
[4] This incident we describe transpired years before the so-called Purim of Buda (or Padua).
[5] The description of the work is drawn from the William Gross Collection Item Description, which is reproduced in the Genazym catalogue. See also M. Heller, The Seventeenth Century Hebrew Book (Brill, 2011), 1077.
[6] On Gross and his collection, see Shalom Sabar, Emile Schrijver, and Falk Wiesemann, Windows on Jewish Worlds: Essays in Honor of William Gross, Collector of Judaica on the Occasion of his Eightieth Birthday (Zutphen: Walburg Pers bv., 2019).
[7] In Kedem’s recent auction of items from the Gross Family Collection (Auction 92, May 2, 2023) we find two items of medical historical interest, one less obvious than the other. The first item is Mikne Avram (Venice, 1523), a Hebrew grammar work written by Avraham de Balmes (Auction 92, Part 1, Lot 4). De Balmes was a physician and his medical diploma from Naples, from the auspicious year of 1492, is the oldest extant Jewish medical diploma, now housed in the Braginsky Collection. On this diploma see, Giancarlo Lacerenza and Vera Schwarz-Ricci, “Il Diploma di Dottorato in Medicina di Avraham ben Me’ir de Balmes (Naploli 1492),” Sefer Yuhasin 2(2014), 163-193. De Balmes was also a student of Yehuda Messer Leon, who has been mentioned numerous times on this blog. Less known is that De Balmes is considered to be the first physician in history to perform a human-to-human blood transfusion. His patient was none other than Pope Innocent VIII. De Balmes transfused blood from three young boys, each of whom was paid a ducat, and infused the blood into the veins of the Pope. According to different reports, the Pontiff “either died or recovered.” See H. M. Brown, “Beginning of Intravenous Medication,” Annals of Medical History 1:2 (1917). Shortly thereafter we find him working in the printing press of Daniel Bomberg.  De Balmes was an expert in Hebrew language and grammar and was sought after by Christians for instruction. Mikne Avramwas published posthumously. A scholarly edition of this work was recently published placing it in the context of contemporaneous linguistic scholarship. See Dror Ben Arye, Mikneh Avram by Avraham de Balmes (Hebrew) (Ramat Gan, Bar Ilan University Press, 2022).

The second item (Auction 92, Part 2, Lot 115) is the spectacular medical diploma of Moshe ben Gershon Tilche from the University of Padua Medical School (1687), which we discussed in Edward Reichman, “Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua: A Behind the Scenes Tour of a New Exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua (November 2, 2022- December 31, 2022),” Seforim Blog (https://seforimblog.com), December 1, 2022.
[8] For a lament about the sale and loss of access to great Jewish book collections, see E. Reichman, “The Lost Library by Dan Rabinowitz and the ‘Burial of Souls’ by Yehuda Leib Katznelson: Different Expressions of the Same Sentiment,” The Seforim Blog (April 3, 2019), available at https://seforimblog.com/2019/04/the-lost-library-by-dan-rabinowitz-and-the-burial-of-souls-by-yehuda-leib-katznelson-different-expressions-of-the-same-sentiment/.
[9] E. Reichman, “Samuel Vita Della Volta (1772-1853): An Underappreciated Bibliophile and his Medical ‘Diploma’tic Journey,” Seforim Blog (https://seforimblog.com), November 5, 2021.
[10] When Kaufmann transferred Mortara’s library from Italy to Budapest a number of volumes were also “lost” on the way. See Asher Salah, “La Biblioteca di Marco Mortara,” in Mauro Perani and Ermanno Finzi, eds., Nuovi Studi in Onore di Marco Mortara nel Secondo Centenario della Nascita (Firenze: Giuntina, 2016), 149-168, esp. 157.
[11] On Cantarini, see, Harry A. Savitz, Profiles of Erudite Jewish Physicians and Scholars (Spertus College of Judaica Press, 1973), 25-28; C. Facchini, “Icone in sinagoga: emblemi e imprese nella predicazione barocca di I.H. Cantarini”, in Materia Giudaica, 7 (2002), 124–144. I thank Professor David Ruderman for this last reference. Cantarini’s Jewish legal responsa were published in both Yitzḥak Lampronti’s Paḥad Yitzḥak and Samson Morpurgo’s Shemesh Tzedakah. For his correspondence with the Christian intellectual Theophilo Ungar, see Y. Blumenfeld, Otzar Nehmad 3 (Vienna, 1860), 128-50.  For the definitive work on the Cantarini family, see Marco Osimo, Narrazione della Strage Compiuta nel 1547 Contro gli Ebrei d’Asolo e Cenni Biografici della Famiglia Koen-Cantarini (Casale-Monferrato, 1875). For a comprehensive bibliography on Cantarini, see Asher Salah, La Republique des Lettres: Rabbins, Ecrivains et Medecins, Juifs en Italie au XVIIIe Siecle (Brill: Leiden, 2007), 120-124.
[12] Modena and Morpurgo, Medici, 118; see D. Ruderman, Jewish Though and Scientific Discovery in Early Modern Europe (Yale University Press, 1995), 113-114, regarding families with multiple graduates from the university.
[13] On Morpurgo, See Edward Reichman, “The Illustrated Life of an Illustrious Renaissance Jew: Rabbi Dr. Shimshon Morpurgo (1681-1740),” Seforim Blog (https://seforimblog.com), June 22, 2021.
[14] S. Y. Glicksberg, Ha-Derashah Be-Yisrael (Mosad HaRav Kook, 5700), 203-20.
[15] Ramhal wrote a eulogy for Cantarini. See R. Moshe Hayim Luzzatto, Sefer Ha-Shirim, ed. Y. Zemora (Mosad HaRav Kook, 5710), 4.
[16] This correspondence was published by Shadal. See Y. Blumenfeld, Otzar Nehmad 3 (Vienna, 1860), 128-50.
[17] Ibid.
[18] 45a- 46a.
[19] I discovered a wedding poem written a number of years earlier Graziadio (Hananel) Levi, assumedly the same person, for the wedding of Saul Lustro and Allegra Barukh in 1676. See JTS Library B (NS)CR2.
[20] The university admitted non-Catholics, which included, for example, both Protestants and Jews. On the history of the Jews and the University of Padua, see Edward Reichman, “How Jews of Yesteryear Celebrated Graduation from Medical School: Congratulatory Poems for Jewish Medical Graduates in the 17th and 18th Centuries- An Unrecognized Genre,” Seforim Blog (https://seforimblog.com), May 29, 2022; idem, “Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua: A Behind the Scenes Tour of a New Exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua (November 2, 2022- December 31, 2022),” Seforim Blog (https://seforimblog.com), December 1, 2022.
[21] The University of Montpellier was sporadically frequented by Jews in the Middle Ages, but does not compare to Padua, where Jews attended in far greater numbers and had their own student organizations.
[22] To be sure there were residual discriminatory practices towards the Jews at the university. In addition, while the Italian Jewish community viewed this development in a positive light, the Jewish communities in Poland and Germany were more concerned about the possible assimilation of the Jewish students and dilution and diminution of Torah study.
[23] We discuss the relationship of Vesalius to the Jews in Edward Reichman, The Anatomy of Jewish Law (Maggid/OU/YU Press, 2022).
[24] See Ciscato, Gli Ebrei in Padova, p. 297. Later documents, as discussed below, address body snatching in the Jewish community specifically.
[25] Carpi, op. cit., parti 616, discusses a request to delay burial during the season of anatomy at the medical school to preclude grave robbing.
[26] Jeffrey Levine, “Jewish History in Vesalius’s Fabrica,” September 17, 2014 (https://jmlevinemd.com/jewish-history-vesalius-fabrica/).
[27] Paul Grendler, The Universities of the Italian Renaissance (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004).
[28] See Steinberg, Avraham Steinberg, HaRefuah KiHalakhah 6 (Jerusalem, 2017), 512-550. I realize it may be anachronistic to mention these specific halakhic concerns or formulation, as these were developed later in history starting with Rabbi Yechezkel Landau. Nonetheless, they are halakhic prohibitions and obligations that apply to dissection.
[29] For more on the history of anatomy and graverobbing in rabbinic literature, see Edward Reichman, The Anatomy of Jewish Law (Maggid/OU/YU Press, 2022).
[30] This practice might have violated the prohibition of moving a goses, the halachic equivalent to a “dying person.” A similar question was posed to Rabbi Moshe Stern: Could one move a critically ill patient out of the hospital for fear that, upon his death, his body would be taken for autopsy and dissection without family consent? Rabbi Stern ruled in the negative. See his Be’er Moshe 8, nos. 239, 240, 241, 243. Likewise, Rabbi Moshe Lemberger was asked whether a Kohen physician could expose himself to tum’ah in order to establish cause of death and prevent a likely autopsy. Rabbi Lemberger argues that the Kohen must do so, as this case is akin to a met mitzvah (one who dies without family or friends to bury him). See Lemberger, Ateret Moshe, Yoreh De’ah 2:244.
[31] Hebraische Bibliographie 16 (1876), p. 37.
[32] See Daniel Carpi, Minutes Book of the Council of the Jewish Community of Padua Volume Two: 1603-1630 (Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1979). All references to the Padua Jewish community archives are from this source. I thank Pia Settimi for kindly bringing these documents to my attention. See also Ciscato, 209-212.
[33] According to Pia Settimi, one of these was Avraham Catalano, who would later coordinate the community response to the plague in Padua in 1631 and author the diary Olam Hafukh about the experience.
[34] ASUPd, ms. 655, f. 13r. I thank Francesco Piovan, Chief Archivist of the University of Padua Archives, for procuring a copy of this document for me.
[35] I am unsure to whom this refers.
[36] The idea of temporary burial was suggested and debated by some prominent rabbinic authorities in the nineteenth century regarding the situation in Cincinnati, OH where graverobbing was rampant. See Reichman, Anatomy of Jewish Law, op. cit., 223-226.
[37] See below for discussion of this decree.
[38] Cantarini lists the Hebrew date of the event as 17 Shevat, 5440. Standard Hebrew date converters place this in 1680, but the Italian decrees all clearly place the year at 1679.
[39] There were broader political issues at play during these riots which are discussed by Cantarini.
[40] See Ciscato, Gli Ebrei in Padova, pp. 299–300; Hebraische Bibliographie 16 (1876), 37. The latter reference discusses an unpublished manuscript by Chaim (Vital) Moshe ben Elisha Cantarini that details this incident. I have been unsuccessful in locating this manuscript. Cantarini, member of an illustrious Italian family comprising many rabbi/physicians, graduated from the medical school in Padua and apparently taught in a yeshiva there as well. As discussed in this essay, this incident is described in great detail by his relative Isaac Chaim Cantarini in the latter’s Pachad Yitzchak.
[41] Archivio civico antico Ducali volume 13 carta 3r. I thank Antonella Ortis for her assistance in procuring this document.
[42] Ciscato, 299. The date of this decree is February 27, 1679. He lists the location as Ducali, Reg. N. N. 123 c. I r.
[43] Ducale: Che sia conservata agli ebrei la facoltà di eseguire le sepolture secondo il loro rito (Emessa in seguito alle proteste degli ebrei contro gli studenti di Anatomia). IT-Pa-47-ovs, Padova – Jewish Community 1679. I thank Ariel Viterbo of the National Library of Israel for bringing this document, as well as the others from the Central Archives, to my attention, and I thank Yochai ben Ghedalia, Yael Franklin and Tami from the Central Archives of the History of the Jewish People for so kindly providing copies of these documents.
[44] 206 Pergamena interessantissima concernente le violazioni di cadaveri degli israeliti che si permettevano gli studenti col pretesto  degli studi anatomici ” =IT-Pa 126 ovs. This broadside does not appear to have been mentioned by Ciscato or Roth, though the decrees were known to them. The Central Archives has another catalogue entry on the dissection of Jewish cadavers in Padua- Sulle violazioni dei cadaveri degli israeliti che si permettevano gli studenti col pretesto degli studi anatomici.  Archivio della Comunità di Padova, n. 206. 8 frames. HM-5157. This is a (poor) microfilm copy of the above broadside, thought the Archives does not identify it as such.
[45] Though he had not seen this document before, Francesco Piovan, the Chief Archivist of the University of Padua remarked, “As far as I can tell from the image, it’s just a summary of laws and decrees. Such summaries (even in print) of private documents and legal norms were quite normal: they can be found, for example, in processual documents. The interesting fact is that your document looks like a kind of ‘manifesto’ (placard), written in beautiful handwriting, and perhaps to be displayed, hung in a frame or fixed on a wooden tablet. In short, it seems destined for public viewing.”
[46] As a postscript, despite the religious limitation of providing bodies for dissection, there was at least some evidence of the interest and fascination amongst the Jews with the new discipline of human anatomy. When Padua’s anatomical theater was first built in 1595, the benches were not only occupied by the registered Jewish medical students, there is record of Jews from the community (non-students) attending dissections. See Cynthia Klestinec, “A History of Anatomy Theaters in Sixteenth Century Padua,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 59:3 (2004), n. 74. Furthermore, years after the publication of Pachad Yitzchak, when a young Abraham Levi was visiting Padua on his travels, his guide, our very same Rabbi Dr. Isaac Cantarini, as part of showcasing the highlights of the community, included a visit to an anatomy lesson where a cadaver was dissected. Shmuel Feiner, The Jewish Eighteenth Century: A Jewish Biography, 1700-1750 (Indiana University Press, 2020), 242.

Breaching the Walls of History

By Dan Rabinowitz

This essay first appeared in the Jewish Review of Books (Spring 2026) and is republished here. Its postscript appeared in the magazine’s Substack newsletter, which you can subscribe to here.

Last December, on the eighth day of Hanukkah, the American haredi newspaper of record Yated Ne’eman published a long, impassioned article titled “Ufortzu Chomos Migdolai Vetimu Kol Hashmanim,” by Rabbi Michoel Sorotzkin. The Hebrew title is from the fifth stanza of the famous Hanukkah standard Maoz tzur, which many of us never get to: “They breached the walls of my towers and defiled all the oils.” That is to say, the Greeks (and their Hellenized Jewish allies) broke through the defenses of the holy Temple in Jerusalem, leaving, seemingly, all its oils polluted and unusable. One might have expected that such a headline would announce a discussion of, say, the closure of haredi yeshiva day schools in New York City, or the Israeli government’s attempts to draft haredim into the military, or, perhaps, the rampant antisemitism threatening European Jewry.

But Sorotzkin’s article addressed none of these very real challenges to haredi life. The breach he identified, the defilement requiring an elaborate polemic couched in apocalyptic language, was a brief mention I had made of the Brisker Rov’s visit to a library in Vilna, in an article I published in these pages last summer (“Golden Ledgers,” Summer 2025, and republished on the Seforim blog).

The Strashun Library of Vilna was the first Jewish public library; it admitted both male and female patrons and included secular as well as religious books (sifrei kodesh). The historical question at issue itself is trivial—in fact it isn’t really a question. Rabbi Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, who was commonly known as Reb Velvel or the Brisker Rov, visited the Strashun Library with at least one, but almost certainly two, of his sons on October 1, 1940, and they checked out the books to read in its famous reading room that the library ledger lists them as checking out.

This is demonstrable beyond any remotely reasonable historical doubt. The interesting question is: Why was it so important to Sorotzkin, a prominent member of the haredi world, to tie himself up in speculative knots denying it not once but twice in one of that world’s leading newspapers? Before answering that question, I should explain how I came to write an article that breached the walls and defiled the oils, when what I was trying to do (if you’ll allow me to mix biblical metaphors) was pluck a brand from the fire.

I go to Vilna at least three times a year. Sometimes I stay at a hotel at the epicenter of the three main streets that formed the Jewish district; other times I stay near German Street where Mattityahu Strashun once lived. My mornings begin with a thirty-minute walk to Lithuania’s National Library. The route passes through streets that once hummed with Yiddish, past buildings that housed yeshivas and Jewish publishers, through spaces that sustained centuries of Jewish intellectual life before the Nazis destroyed it. My afternoons are spent walking those streets comparing what I’ve found in the archives against what I expected to find, evenings reviewing notes and planning the next day’s research. What I’m trying to do is reconstruct the ordinary moments that illuminate the extraordinary history of Jewish Vilna.

During these walks, I often run into tour groups gathered at one of the few plaques marking the place of Jews in the city’s history. Usually, it’s the plaque noting the line of demarcation where the Nazis established the Vilna Ghetto. This is the tours’ inevitable focus: the annihilation of the Jews. What preceded the destruction—the institutions of learning and publishing, the literary circles and research institutes, the daily life that made Vilna the “Jerusalem of Lithuania”—receives far less attention. There used to be a sign marking where the Great Synagogue complex, the architectural and spiritual center of Jewish Vilna for centuries, stood. That sign is gone now. What remains are markers of death and destruction; all the complexity of Jewish intellectual life before World War II gets compressed into a prelude to catastrophe.

Those of us who study prewar Jewish culture are trying, each in our own way, to reconstruct and understand the life that preceded the catastrophe. That’s how I came to write a book on the Strashun Library several years ago. It’s why I continue to research its workings and the vibrant world of which it and its patrons, including great rabbinic leaders like Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik and ordinary Jewish readers, were a part.

The Strashun Library opened in 1902 as the first Jewish public library, built from Mattityahu Strashun’s private collection of rare books and manuscripts. From its opening, it became central to Vilna’s intellectual ecosystem. Its reading rooms welcomed everyone: rabbis and historians, secular scholars and traditional students, men and women, those seeking Yiddish literature and those researching Jewish law. By the time it was shuttered in 1940, it held roughly fifty thousand volumes and served a public that spanned the full spectrum of Jewish life.

When I discovered the library’s checkout ledgers in the National Library of Lithuania archives in 2024, I realized that their spare entries allowed us to reconstruct the day-to-day life of the library: who used it, which books they read, and how it served different strata of Jewish society.

As the first step in a project to digitize and make the ledgers publicly available to other researchers, I spent four very full days scanning thousands of pages, each holding about fifty handwritten entries. As I worked, I browsed the names and tried to quickly register patterns in the data. One of the names that jumped out at me was “Yitzchok Soloveitchik,” who requested a collection of I. L. Peretz’s Hasidic stories, Khasidish. Could this be Rabbi Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, the son of Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik, who founded the famous Brisker approach to talmudic study?

Yitzhak Ze’ev inherited and extended his father’s analytic method and later became one of the most uncompromising voices in Israeli haredi leadership, where he was known as the Brisker Rov. I knew that he and his family had been in Vilna at the time, because I’d found him listed among prominent rabbis in Vaad ha-yeshivos refugee housing records that show, yeshiva by yeshiva, where students, teachers, and refugees were staying. Nonetheless, it could have been another Yitzchok Soloveitchik. Then I looked more carefully at the same ledger page and saw another entry: a Raphael Soloveitchik had requested Maimonides’s Iggeret ha-shemad just a few lines above Yitzchok’s request for Peretz. Now it was clear. The Brisker Rov had a son named Raphael, and although Peretz’s short stories was a surprising choice for his father, the choice of Maimonides’s famous letter on persecution by the scion of a family fleeing persecution and famously devoted to Maimonides made perfect sense.

In short, the ledger documented that the Soloveitchiks had used the library just weeks before the Soviets would permanently close it, which is what I wrote, in passing, in my article. All that I thought I had documented in doing so was that the library served the rabbinic elite alongside ordinary Jews of all kinds, who were reading everything from talmudic commentaries to Yiddish translations of Tolstoy. But merely documenting a prewar Jewish world that was different than is generally imagined in haredi publications like Yated turned out to be an act of desecration.

Rabbi Sorotzkin’s first attack began by quoting the offending lines—or part of them at any rate—from my article: “On the afternoon of October 1, 1940, Reb Velvel came to the Strashun Library with his teenage son . . . His father’s reading for the day was more surprising: I. L. Peretz’s short stories about Hasidim.” (Sorotzkin’s ellipses will turn out to be doing a lot of work here.)

“With this passage,” Sorotzkin wrote, “Mr. Dan Rabinowitz does more than recount an archival curiosity. He stages a tableau.” He went on:

The Brisker Rov, Rav Yitzchok Zev Soloveitchik, appears before us not as generations of talmidim knew him, but as a character in a modern morality play: seated calmly in the Strashun Library of Vilna, immersed in the ironic fiction of I. L. Peretz, surrounded by secular readers, students, men and women alike.

The effect is unmistakable. The reader is invited to marvel at the distance between the “real” man and the image preserved by Torah memory. Hagiography, we are told implicitly, has concealed a richer, more complex inner life—one now revealed by the cold honesty of a library ledger.

It is an elegant narrative. It is also an edifice built on sand. What we encounter here is not historical reconstruction, but a breach—peritzas geder—in the most basic disciplines of historical inference. And once the wall is breached, all the oil may be rendered impure.

Beyond the rhetoric of righteous indignation, Sorotzkin’s argument was simple: The Brisker Rov would never have entered a “mixed, open, modern” library because his “entire being recoiled from even the faintest rei’ach [whiff] of ideological modernity.” Therefore, someone else named Yitzchok Soloveitchik must have. And here Sorotzkin had a candidate:

The Vilna region was saturated with Soloveitchiks. . . . Among them appears a Yitzchok Soloveitchik, a timber merchant, a vald-socher [from Švenčionys]—precisely the kind of educated townsman who would frequent the Strashun Library and read Peretz.

There are just three problems with this line of argument—actually there are more than that, but let’s restrict ourselves to three for the moment:

a. The same ledgers that documented the visit of a “Yitzchok Soloveitchik” also recorded several visits by Rav Pinchas Hirschprung, who would later serve as chief rabbi of Montreal. Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzinski, the preeminent Torah authority in Vilna, held special borrowing privileges at the library, and Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan, the renowned Chafetz Chaim, visited and signed the library’s VIP “Golden Book.” If such colleagues could visit the library, can Sorotzkin really be so certain that the Brisker Rov’s “entire being” would have prevented him from doing so?

b. Švenčionys is over eighty kilometers from Vilna, and we have no evidence this timber merchant traveled to Vilna in October 1940. Not to speak of the fact that neither Rabbi Sorotzkin nor I know anything about the reading habits of Jewish timber merchants in the area.

c. The ledger records two Soloveitchiks visiting the library on October 1, 1940. Are we to suppose that this other Yitzchok Soloveitchik also had a son named Raphael, who was also a deep Maimonidean?

This last problem—call it the “Zvei Soloveitchiks problem”—returns us to Rabbi Sorotzkin’s creative use of ellipses. When he quoted my offending lines about Reb Velvel, he elided Raphael—whom I mentioned in those sentences—right out of the picture and never acknowledged that he appeared in the ledger a few lines above his father.

Actually, unlike Sorotzkin’s conjectural Peretz-reading ironist timber merchant, the Brisker Rov had good reason to visit the Strashun Library. He was in the midst of a life-and-death halakhic controversy with his colleague Rav Aharon Kotler about whether refugees should try to flee to Eretz Yisrael or America. To support his position that they should not go to America because of the spiritual danger, the Brisker Rov turned to a passage he remembered from Maimonides’s Iggeret ha-shemad, which he wanted to quote verbatim.

Soloveitchik family memory confirms this. In a footnote to Shiurei Rabbeinu Meir ha-Levi, a collection of the Brisker Rov’s son, he is quoted as saying:

I recall that during the war years, Maran [the Brisker Rov] sought a copy of the letters from the Rambam, because he wanted to study Iggeret he-shemad, in which the Rambam has a lengthy discussion to explain the fundamental idea that a person acclimates to his surroundings and it is prohibited to live in a place which doesn’t allow one to fulfill the mitzvot properly. . . . Initially, however, he was unable to find a copy, and, in the end, he located one in the Strashun Library in Vilna. According to the library’s rules, one was not permitted to remove books from the building. And therefore his son R. Chaim copied it word for word for him.

The library ledger records Raphael as the borrower of Iggeret ha-shemad while the family testimony remembers Chaim as the copyist. Perhaps both brothers participated, or Raphael handled the checkout while Chaim copied the passage. Or perhaps the family misremembered which brother accompanied his father to the library. At any rate, there were at least two, and quite possibly three, Soloveitchiks at the Strashun Library on that day. And they were there precisely because the Brisker Rov took his obligations as a halakhic scholar and leader of Torah Jewry so seriously.

When I wrote to Yated Ne’eman to explain all this, the editors—to their credit—published my letter, but they did so alongside a reply from the unflappable Rabbi Sorotzkin. Sorotzkin not only blithely failed to acknowledge his errors of omission and commission but went on to a new and truly gobsmacking theory, titling his response “Veha’emes Vehashalom Ehavu” (Love truth and peace).

The entry for a “Yitzchok Soloveitchik” must, he now admits, refer to one of the famous Soloveitchiks rather than a random timber merchant from Švenčionys. Still, it couldn’t possibly be the Brisker Rov. So, who was it? Here I must quote Rabbi Sorotzkin at length to convey just how far he is willing to go to save Reb Velvel from having gone to a public library:

The presence of a ledger entry bearing the name “Yitzchok Soloveitchik” is taken to indicate the Brisker Rov himself, seated in the reading hall and borrowing secular literature. Yet there exists a far more coherent and internally consistent explanation, one that aligns with the testimony, the ledger itself, the halachic framework governing names and conduct, and the lived reality of the Brisker household.

According to this reading, it was the Brisker Rov’s son, Rav Chaim who entered the Strashun Library as the responsible emissary. Anyone familiar with the family dynamic knows that his keen intelligence, composure, and practical capability marked him as the natural choice for such a mission. His younger brother, Rav Rafael, accompanied him and formally requested the Iggeres HaShemad, which then had to be copied in full—a task of approximately 3,500 words, requiring a prolonged stay. Such an extended presence in a public institution would naturally invite scrutiny. To avoid unnecessary attention, it would have been prudent, even expected, to request an additional book, a routine borrowing that raised no eyebrows and normalized the time spent at the table.

Here the ledger entries themselves become illuminating rather than sensational. Immediately preceding the Soloveitchik entry, two patrons are recorded borrowing works by I. L. Peretz. . . . When Rav Chaim was offered titles by the same author, the specific work recorded — Chassidish — was accepted not as an ideological choice but as a convenient placeholder, a book taken to cover the duration required for copying the Iggeres. . . .

The use of the name “Yitzchok” in the ledger is likewise neither mysterious nor incriminating. Rav Chaim could not identify himself by his own well-known name without drawing attention, particularly given that the sefer of his grandfather, Rabbeinu Chaim Halevi, was already catalogued in that very library. Nor could he identify himself by his father’s full name. Halacha is explicit that one may not refer to one’s father by name, even after death, without alteration. . . . The use of the shortened form “Yitzchok” . . . would have satisfied both the halachic requirement and the practical need for discretion, without uttering an outright falsehood.

It is difficult to imagine anyone believing that a scholarly household in the midst of the “lived reality” of a desperate flight to safety from both the Soviets and the Nazis would strategize over the impossible “mission” of going to a library frequented by other pious Jews to copy a passage from Maimonides. And further, to think that they needed an elaborate cover story involving false names and phony book checkouts so that the Jewish librarians did not penetrate their cover (and what?—inform Rav Kotler about the killer prooftext from Maimonides?). The tradition has a term for such groundless theorizing, pilpul shel hevel, and it is a hallmark of the Brisker tradition to oppose it.

Sorotzkin closes his response on an extraordinary—and, one presumes, unconscious—note of chutzpah. “When suggestive narratives arise from thin evidentiary reeds,” he writes, “methodological restraint becomes not a courtesy but an obligation.” But perhaps I am being unfair, as George Orwell once remarked, “We are all capable of believing things which we know to be untrue, and then, when we are finally proved wrong, impudently twisting the facts so as to show that we were right.”

Sorotzkin’s initial response characterized my work as “peritzas geder,” a breach of protective walls. But what did he think needed to be protected? Not the Brisker Rov’s actual stature or commitment. That he wanted to verify the exact wording of Maimonides’s Iggeret ha-shemad from the richest collection of sifrei kodesh in Eastern Europe to guide his thinking on the refugee crisis illuminates the rigor of his approach to unprecedented questions. What Sorotzkin needed to protect was rather a nostalgic fantasy: one in which the great sages (gedolim) of that generation never entered mixed public spaces, relied on secular institutions, or read fiction. But the infrastructure of Jewish life in places like Vilna was not neatly divided into “Torah” and “secular” categories, and gedolim and their students checked out books from the Strashun Library alongside maskilim, socialists, and ordinary Jews looking for something to read.

I go back to Vilna regularly to identify, amid the destruction and absence, what can be found to resurrect, contextualize, and enrich our understanding of the astounding Jewish culture of prewar Vilna. The Jews of this city—rabbis and students, traditionalists and modernists, Hebraists and Yiddishists—created institutions, filled libraries, published journals, founded schools and research institutes, and argued about everything.

The Brisker Rov spent an afternoon in the Strashun Library in October 1940 with his sons to obtain a text he desperately needed. While his sons diligently copied Maimonides’s text, he requested Peretz’s collection of Hasidic stories. I don’t know why and, of course, it doesn’t matter—only Sorotzkin and his more credulous readers would think that it does. But there is a plausible answer. It turns out that among Peretz’s Hasidic tales is the story “Between Two Mountains,” in which a fiercely strict and intellectual rosh yeshiva called “the Brisker Rov” is taught a lesson in humanism by a former student who has become a Hasidic rebbe. Might not the Brisker Rov have been simply curious to read about his fictional counterpart?

The Holocaust destroyed the Strashun Library and most of the Jewish world of which it was a part. The Soviets shuttered its reading room; the Nazis looted its collections; after the war, the building was destroyed. Yet, the few surviving Strashun Library ledgers reveal precious little moments in the lost history of Jewish intellectual life in Vilna. The final volume documents the last gasp of Eastern European Jewry, not only the local Jewish inhabitants but also the thousands of refugees like the Soloveitchiks who, fleeing Hitler and Stalin, briefly sought safety in Vilna.

It seems to me that what we, their descendants, owe them is to see their lives, at least in glimpses, as they were, even if it is through the entries of a humble library ledger. That is a history worth recovering, even when—especially when—it complicates what we thought we knew. Such complication is not desecration; on the contrary, it honors their memories.

Postscript

After writing this response to Rabbi Sorotzkin’s pilpul shel hagiografia, I continued to return to the 1940 ledger, which hasn’t been digitized yet. As I described above, Sorotzkin’s new, and equally implausible, claim was that Chaim Soloveitchik used his father’s name rather than his own, to avoid the commotion of being recognized as the grandson and namesake of the author of one of the library’s own seforim, and to escape the notice of the authorities. In fact, it turns out Chaim checked out books under his own name at least five times in September 1940.

The first entry was on September 6, 1940, weeks before his father and Rafael appear in the ledger together. He checked out the Iggeret ha-shemad twice, on September 12 and September 14. These are, undoubtedly, the visits to transcribe Maimonides’s text, as described in the family testimony recorded in Shiurei Rabbenu Meir HaLevi. Rafael’s borrowing of the same text on October 1, when he visited the library with his father, was probably to check his brother’s transcription against the source.

That September, Chaim also read the tenth-century grammarian Dunash ben Labrat, the letters of Sa’adia Gaon and Ramban, the Abudraham’s commentary on the siddur, Samuel David Luzzatto’s essays collected in Bet ha-otzar, and a run of midrashic works, several in modern critical editions such as those of Solomon Buber. This is not the reading of a man sent on an undercover mission to copy one text. It is, rather, the reading of a wide, curious, and learned mind, and the ledger records it without comment or apology.

Of course, this isn’t surprising. As I wrote above, many well-known rabbinic figures used the library without incident. What is surprising is the pseudo-pious lengths to which Sorotzkin went to deny that the Brisker Rov and his sons simply used the Strashun Library, a fact that the family itself had no qualms about memorializing. What the ledgers allow us to do is to see, in a reader’s own name and hand, what he read in one of the great libraries of his world.

The Strashun Library Ledger Project, which is digitizing and making the ledgers publicly available, is a collaboration between the Martynas Mažvydas National Library of Lithuania, the e-Lijah Lab at the University of Haifa, Yale University’s Jewish Studies Department and Library, the Fortunoff Video Archive, and Litvak SIG.

Do you recall Hrubieszow?

Hrubieszow, Home to an Active Early Nineteenth Century Hebrew Press^[1]

Marvin J. Heller

A barely remembered Hebrew press, one credited with as many as forty books, although that number is uncertain, was active in Hrubieszow (Hrubyesho), Lublin district, in southeastern, Poland from 1816 to1821 and then intermittently until 1827. The variance in the number of titles printed may be attributed to the manner in which books are recorded, some titles being a composite of three works. In some instances, the town or the printers’ names are omitted from the title-page due to censorship or book tariff payment. The books published by the press are relatively small varied books, designed to meet the community’s needs and interests. The first works printed include several Yiddish titles. Most of the books are small format, ranging from duodecimo (12⁰) through quarto (4⁰) formats. The article describes a small portion of the Hrubieszow imprints to give a sense of the press’s publications, their variety, indicative of the community and how, through their books, the press served it. The selected works are generally of a scholarly and specialized nature, primarily Hasidic works on the weekly parasha (Torah reading), ethical, and halachic tomes, although varied within each category. These works reflect both the composition and interests of the community.

A barely remembered Hebrew press, one that is credited by the Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book with as many as forty books in the early nineteenth century, was active in Hrubieszow (Hrubyesho), Lublin district, in southeastern, Poland.^[2] Jewish presence in Hrubieszow dates to the first half of the fifteenth century, Jews being recorded there as tax farmers and merchants, doing business in such diverse areas as Walachia, Turkey, the Crimea, and Kiev.

In the 10th century, the Hrubieszow district had been part of the Polish state. In 981, however, it was seized by the Kievan Rus’, subsequently changing hands several times, even falling to the Mongol Empire in the mid-13th century. Even earlier, the founding of Hrubieszow dates to the early Middle Ages when there was a defensive ‘gord’ (a medieval Slavonic fortified settlement) on the Huczwa river island. Hrubieszow is mentioned as early as 1254, as a hunting settlement amid forests. In 1366, Hrubieszow, then known as Rubieszów, was recaptured by King Casimir III the Great, again becoming part of the Kingdom of Poland (see banner of early Polish monarchy, right). In about 1400, the town received a charter from Polish king, Władysław II Jagiełło. Hrubieszow (Rubieszów) was destroyed several times by Crimean Tatars, who raided the area in the 15th, 16th and 17th centuries, and by rebellious Cossacks.

In 1772, After the First Partition of Poland, Hrubieszow was annexed by Austria. In 1800, Stanisław Staszic founded the Hrubieszow Agricultural Society, the first cooperative organization in Europe, which existed until 1945. In 1802, the name Rubieszów was changed to Hrubieszow, the name by which it is known today. Seven years later, in 1809, after the Austro-Polish War, Hrubieszow became part of the short-lived Polish Duchy of Warsaw, subsequently becoming, in 1815, by the Congress of Vienna ,part of the Russian-controlled Congress Poland, within the Lublin Governorate.^[3]

As noted above, Jews were active in Hrubieszow from the first half of the fifteenth century. At some point in that century, Jews in Hrubieszow received several privileges for wine trade and management of the town tax chamber. By 1551, thirteen Jewish residents occupied four houses, that number rising to 40 Jews living in 5 houses by 1560. That number continued to increase, so that from the 18^th century until the beginning of the 20^th century Jews comprised a considerable majority of Hrubieszow’s population, controlling trade, industry, and craft. In 1578, King Stephen Bahory granted the Jews in Hrubieszów extensive rights. Less than a century afterwards, during tah-ve-tat (the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-49), the Jewish community was almost entirely destroyed. Soon afterwards, however, the Jewish community was reestablished – a yeshivah was opened, headed by R. Isaac ben Judah Charif. Hrubieszow would subsequently be home to a number of prominent rabbis and became influential in the Arba’ah Artzot (Council of the Four Lands).^[4] In the 18^th century the Hasidic movement became active in Hrubieszow, the city becoming a center of Berdichev Hasidism. Among its leaders was R. Joseph ben Mordecai Katzenelboigen (R. Mordechai of Neszhchiz), who relocated there in the 1790s.^[5]

We now turn to our subject, Hebrew printing in Hrubieszow. As noted above, the Hrubieszow press is credited by the Thesaurus with as many as forty titles, although that number may be uncertain; in contrast, Avraham Yaari records only thirty-four titles for Hrubieszow.^[6] Those works are relatively small varied books, designed to meet the community’s needs and interests, published from 1816 to1821 and then intermittently until 1827. This article will describe a small portion of those works, to give a sense of the press’s publications, their variety, indicative of the community and how, through their books, the press served it. To address a greater number would be tedious for both the reader and the writer.

Dr. N. M. Gelber and Avraham Yaari inform that attempts to establish a Hebrew press in Hrubieszow were made from 1792 through 1804, in the Austrian period, but that the matter was delayed, the privilege to do so not granted. In late 1816, a Hebrew press was established in Hrubieszow, now part of Congress Poland. The founder of the press was R. Menahem Mendel Finkelstein (Finkel Stein). He had partners, namely R. Moses Tzikor and R. Saul Moss Goldstein of Łaszczów. Finkelstein provided the financing, the latter two the necessary skills, being experienced printers, having been partners in the Hebrew press in Łaszczów. Management of the press changed in the following years. Goldstein left the press in 1819, returning to Łaszczów, Finkelstein left the press in 1821, leaving Tzikor in charge. Tzikor then took Solomon ben David as a partner. Eight master printers were employed by the press as compositors and press operators, namely Daniel Ze’ev ben Segal, Baruch Abraham ben David, both from Hrubieszow, Isaac ben David from Łaszczów, Hayyim ben Eliezer from Zhovkva, Israel ben Raphael, Menachem Mendel ben Baruch, Pesach Joseph from Łęczno, and Eliezer Segal, perchance from Hrubieszow.^[7]

Printing began shortly after the privilege was granted, the first works being published, including several Yiddish titles. Vinograd records ten titles for 1816-17, beginning with Shir ha-Shirim (1816), Orhot Zaddikim, Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul, Haggadah shel Pesah, Sefer Hasidim, Lekah Tov, a siddur Tefillas Nehora, Noam Elimelekh, Shivhei ha-Ba’al Shem Tov, and Tanna de-vei-Eliyahu. These are all small format books, ranging from duodecimo (12⁰) through quarto (4⁰) formats. These works are indicative of the variety of the Hrubieszow imprints and the community the press served. For example, R. Judah ben Samuel he-Hasid’s (c. 1150-1217) Sefer Hasidim, an ethical, mystical, and halakhic work; Tanna de-be-Eliyahu is an aggadic midrash attributed to Elijah the prophet as dictated to the third century amora Anan bar Rav: Noam Elimelekh by R. Elimelech of Lizhensk; Shivhei ha-Ba’al Shem Tov, collection of Hasidic tales about the founder of Hasidim, and in contrast to the prior works, Joseph ha-Efrati’s Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul, a maskilic (enlightened) drama.^[8]

Noam Elimelekh – We begin with R. Elimelech ben Eliezer Lippman (Lippa) of Lizhensk’s (1717-87) Noam Elimelekh, a classic and primary Hasidic work, representative of the press’s output and the communities’ interests. R. Elimelech was a student of R. Samuel Smelke Horowitz (Rebbe Reb Shmelke, 1726-78), and afterwards a disciple of R. Dov Baer the Maggid of Mezhirech (1704–72), as well as meeting by the latter R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev (c. 1740-1809). After the Maggid’s passing, Elimelech became the acknowledged head of the Hasidic movement and is considered the theoretician and creator of “practical zaddikism.”^[9]
Noam Elimelekh was published as a 23 cm. work ([1], 94 ff.) The title-page begins with honorifics of Elimelech of Lizhensk and informs that in order that there should not be blank paper at the beginning of the book and for benefit of the public, they have published the testament of the author (see below), and at the end of the volume is R. Joseph Gikatilla’s Tamei Ha-Mitzvot. Not noted but also at the end of the volume are Likkutei Shoshana and Iggeret ha-Kodesh. The title page is dated with the chronogram “[for he said] the God of my father’s [house] was my help כי אמר אלקי אבי בעזרי (577 = 1817)” (cf. Exodus 18:4). Elimelech’s testament, entitled conduct (הנהגות) of a man is on the verso of the title-page and consists of twenty-one admonitions for a person.
The title-page states that Noam Elimelekh was published at the press of Menahem Mendel Finkelstein. According to Ch. B. Friedberg the references to the publisher on the title-page varies between books. He notes that initially references to the printer stated Menahem Mendel Finkel Stein and associates. Afterwards, however, he does mention the names of his partners.^[10]

1817, Noam Elimelekh

The text, a hasidic Torah commentary on the weekly Torah portion, follows. It emphasizes the role of the zaddik in worship and divine service. At the end of the concluding section of the book are two decorative tail-pieces. These tail-pieces, particularly the one on the left, appear on title-pages of several Hrubieszow books.

Noam Elimelekh is a classic Hasidic work. First printed by his son after his death in Lvov 1788, Noam Elimelekh has proven to be an immensely popular work. This, the Hrubieszow printing, is the sixth edition. It is reported that more than 50 editions of Noam Elimelekh have been printed.^[11]

Sefer Hasidim – R. Judah ben Samuel he-Hasid’s (c. 1150–1217) Sefer Hasidim, a different but computable work is, as noted above, an ethical, mystical, and halakhic work. Judah was a disciple of his father, R. Samuel (ben Kalonymous) he-Hasid (c. 1120-75) an eminent kabbalist and ascetic; portions of Sefer Hasidim are attributed to Samuel he-Hasid. They are among the most renowned members and leaders of the Hasidei Ashkenaz, the influential Jewish pietist movement in medieval Germany.

It is reported that when Judah’s mother was pregnant with him, she was walking along a path by a bet medrash (Torah study hall) when a wagon came bearing down upon her, with no place to turn, neither to the right nor to the left. Just as she was about to be crushed by the horses’ hoofs, the walls of the bet medrash opened saving her and her son. It is also told that Samuel he-Hasid witnessed the heavens opening; asked what kind of son he wanted, he replied, one of exemplary piety. Judah reputedly hosted the prophet Elijah, was able to revive the dead, and performed miracles, particularly saving Jews from oppressors. He practiced an ascetic form of mysticism, fasting two days for Yom Kippur, throughout the week, eating at night only, and often fasted on Shabbat, claiming that the change would cause him pain, detracting from his pleasure in Shabbat. It was said by a contemporary that if Judah had lived in the times of the prophets he would have been a prophet.

1817, Sefer Hasidim

The title-page of Sefer Hasidim, published is octavo format (8⁰: [64] pp.) is in Yiddish, excepting the names of the printers and the publication date. All of the printers are cited here in bold letters, that is, Menahem Mendel Finkel Stein, Moses Tzikor and Saul Moss Gold Stein. The date in the chronogram, “Let the faithful exult in glory;
let them sing joyously upon their beds יעלזו בכבוד ירננו על משכבותם )577 = 1817).” (Psalms 149:5)

Sefer Hasidim is foremost an ethical manual, practical rather than theoretical, encompassing all aspects of life, including the minutiae of personal, family, and business matters. Numerous examples are cited, containing, considerable information about contemporary Jewish life. Advice is detailed and pragmatic, with the goal of achieving strict adherence to an ethical and pious life. These instructions, often based on kabbalistic teachings, have been influential because of the author’s great piety. Sefer Hasidim is also a mystical work, explaining biblical and talmudic passages.^[12]

Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul – A very different work is Joseph Ha-Efrati of Tropplowitz’s (c. 1770–1804) Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul, a drama in Yiddish. Among the smallest Hrubieszow imprints, it was printed in duodecimo format (12⁰) 29 ff.

1817, Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul

The author, born in Tropplowitz, Silesia, was a Hebrew poet, dramatist, and tutor. While working in the last capacity he wrote the first acts of the drama Melukhat Sha’ul from Melukhat Sha’ul completed in Prague in 1793. Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul is a Yiddish translation, retitled. This version, that is the Yiddish translation, has been described as “part of the traditional Purimshpil (“Purim play”) in many Lithuanian and Polish towns . . . the first modern Hebrew drama of the Haskalah period, is noteworthy for its new egalitarian and humanistic ideas.” In writing Melukhat Sha’ul Ha-Efrati was reputedly influenced by Shakespeare, Goethe, Schiller, and von Haller, as well as M. H. Luzzatto. The primary characters, Saul. David, Jonathan, and Michal reputedly signify abstract ideas rather than lifelike characters, representing “the pathos of a suffering hero, ridden with envy and guilt, torn by fears and loneliness, and not merely a proud and jealous king.”^[13]

The title-page is misdated, the date, given in a straightforward manner, is תקלז (= 1777). Depending on when the misdating was caught, it may have been corrected with a stop-press correction, that is, when an error was found the press would be stopped, the error would be quickly corrected and printing resumed. As one copy only of Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul was seen it not known if that was done or if this is the sole uncorrected title-page for that work.^[14] Friedberg writes that he has seen several of the press’s books that are misdated^[15] For other examples, see below.

The text is in Yiddish excepting paragraph headers and, similarly, except here vocalized, the names of the participants in the drama on the verso of the title-page. This is the third edition of Gedolus David, the first having been printed in Lvov in 1801; It is a popular work, as many as fourteen editions are recorded for Gedolus David in the Bet Eked Sefarim and only twelve editions for Melukhat Sha’ul.^[16]

The following year, 1818, saw the publication of five titles, primarily Hasidic works, among them such classics titles as R. Menahem Nahum Twersky of Chernobyl’s Me’or Einayim, homilies on the weekly Torah portions; R. Samuel ben Nathan Ha-Levi Loew Kolin’s Maḥaẓit ha-Shekel on the Shulḥan Arukh Oraḥ Ḥayyim and Yoreh De’ah; R. Jacob ben Solomon Habib’s Ein Ya’akov, collection of aggadah in the Talmud; R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev’s Hasidic classic Kedushat Levi discourses on the weekly Torah readings, and, in Vinograd’s listing, a second Hrubieszow edition of Noam Elimelekh.

Kedushat Levi – R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev’s Kedushat Levi, a classic Hasidic work of weekly discourses. was published in quarto format (4⁰: [1], 78, 27, 15 ff.) in the year “Isaac pleaded [with the Lord] ויעתר יצחק (571= 1818)” (Genesis 25:21). R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev, who defended Hasidus against its opponents, settled in Berdichev, in 1785, residing there for the rest of his life. When he passed away, it seemed, to R. Nahman of Bratslav that “the light of the world had been extinguished.” Levi Yitzhak was held in the highest regard and affection by Jews. An example of his sensitivity, even to transgressors, is the following incident,

When he happened to meet “a young man eating in public on the fast of Tisha B’Av (the anniversary of the day on which both the first and second Temples were destroyed) the rabbi asked him mildly, “Have you forgotten that today is the Ninth of Av? Or are you perhaps unaware that it is forbidden to eat on the Ninth of Av?” “I have not forgotten what day it is and I am well aware of the prohibition,” answered the young man. “Possibly, my son, you are not in good health and have been advised by your doctor to eat?” the rabbi of Berdichev inquired further. No, I am in excellent health,” was the reply. “See, O Lord,” exclaimed the sage with joy, “how admirable Your children are! Even when they transgress Your Commandments, they do not stoop to falsehood.” ^[17]

Levi Yitzhak’s first published work, also entitled Kedushat Levi, is discourses on Hanukkah and Purim, printed in Slavuta in 1798. It was subsequently included in later editions of Kedushat Levi on the weekly Torah readings.

1818, Kedushat Levi

The title-page of this edition of Kedushat Levi begins with honorifics for R. Levi and then informs that it also includes additional material on various subjects. On the verso of the title pages is an approbation from four rabbis from Berdichev; R. David Shalit, R. Aaron Isaac ha-Kohen, R. Nathan Aryeh Davir, and R. Mordecai באאימו son of my lord, my father, teacher, and rabbi David Shalit. Below the approbation is the standard disclaimer that the people among whom the Jews reside today are not like those in the time of the Talmud, immoral idol worshippers, but today show respect for Torah and do justice and righteousness in their lands, The text follows, primarily on the weekly parsha, but also addressing other biblical books, festivals, and concluding with a final section addressing various subjects, including Pirke Avot. Kedushat Levi.

First published in Berdichev in 1811, this, the Hrubieszow edition, is the third printing of Kedushat Levi. A popular work, it has frequently been republished.

Sefer ha-Yashar – Among the books published in 1819 is R. Zerahiah ha-Yevani’s (13th or 14th century) popular ethical work Sefer ha-Yashar (Book of Righteousness). The title-page attributes the work to R. Jacob ben Meir Tam (Rabbenu Tam, c. 1100-1171), a not infrequent error, as well as it being attributed to R. Jonah Gerondi (13^th century). The former did author a Sefer ha-Yashar (Vienna, 1811), but that is another work, consisting of responsa and novellae, while the style of the latter, who wrote ethical works, differs from this book. A number of manuscripts, however, name Zerahi ha-Yevani’s as the author. While many now accept him as the author, that attribution is not definite. Little is known about Zerahiah, except that he was a resident of the Byzantine Empire and that he is credited with Sefer ha-Yashar.

Sefer ha-Yashar was published in octavo format (8⁰: [2], 40 ff.). The title-page begins that it is “the path of life and moral reproof, to go on a straight path. It is dated “it is [very] indeed upright וישר הוא מאוד (579 = 1819)” (cf. Deutronomy 32:4; Psalms 21:29). The printers names are given on the title-page as Menahem Mendel F. Sh. and Moses Tzikor,

1819, Sefer ha-Yashar

There is an introduction, in which Zerahiah brings proof for the Torah and its precepts from both reason and from the prophets, and bemoans the pursuit of pleasure, wealth, and honor in his time, rather than religion and morality. Sefer ha-Yashar, with the purpose of directing one’s soul towards the correct worship of God, piety, and ethical content, is written in an easy style so that it will influence others to right conduct. Sefer ha-Yashar is comprised of material from earlier ethical works, although they are not mentioned in the text by name nor directly quoted. It is evident, from the book, that he was familiar with Jewish philosophic works. The most significant of the prior works, acknowledged in the introduction, is Bahya ibn Paquda’s Hovot ha-Levavot, studied by Zerahiah, but too long and complex for the average reader. It provides, in summary, the essence of several chapters. Another important influence, evident in the text, is Maimonides.

The text, divided into eighteen chapters which address, beginning with the creation of the world, worship, repentance, knowledge of God, the will of God, the world to come, complete repentance, the significance of the righteous, accountability of a person, remembrance of the day of death, and the distinction between the righteous and the wicked. Zerahiah’s primary subjects are the need to imitate God, conditions of proper prayer, both theoretical and practical; correct conduct and obstacles to be overcome to achieve it; and repentance.^[18]

A popular work Sefer ha-Yashar was first printed in Constantinople (1540); this is the twenty-second edition, of slightly more than fifty recorded by the Bet Eked.Sefarim.^[19]
Levushe Serad – Another different work, also published in 1819, is R. David Solomon Eybeschuetz’s (Eibenschutz) halachic Levushe Serad on the Shulhan Arukh Yoreh Deah, particularly on the laws pertaining to shechita (ritual slaughter). Printed as a folio (2⁰: [2], 2-102 ff,) in the year “attired as thin beast לבושי השרד בהמה דקה (561 = 1801).” This date is certainly incorrect, a bet ב at the head of the word בהמה (beast) which make the verse meaningful but gives a date in error, as opposed to a kafכ which would read כהמה and would give the correct value of (579 = 1819) but be meaningless. I would suggest, and this is entirely speculative, that the printer wanted the meaning of beast even if that threw the date off. Support for this conjecture can be found in the correct date, immediately below the Hebrew date, in Arabic numerals, that is, 1819. This is the only title-page seen among the Hrubieszow imprints with an Arabic numeral date.

The author, R. David Solomon ben Yerachmiel Eybeschuetz, was born in Russia and studied under R. Moses Ẓevi Heller. He served as rabbi in several locations, among them Buzhanow, Soroki (Volhynia), and Jassy, (Rumania). Eybeschuetz made aliyah, that is, he went up to Eretz Israel, residing in Safed, where he died in 1812. Eybeschuetz was also a kabbalist as well as a Talmudist. His other works include responsa, Ne’ot Deshe (part one, Lvov, 1861), part two and manuscripts, including a commentary on the Torah and discourses.^[20]

The title-page describes Levushe Serad as being comprised of three parts, the first explaining the laws pertaining to laws of falling and broken bones in cattle and fowl; the second, laws applying to lungs; and the third, applying to Yoreh De’ah. The printers are given here as Menahem Mendel Finkel Stein. and Moses Tzikor.

The verso of the title-page has an approbation from R. David Shalit. The text is comprised of the commentary in two columns. The text of this volume on Yoreh Deah varies from the previous volume on Orah Haim. Chaim Tchernowitz describes this volume as following R. Alexander Sender Shor’s (d. 1737) influential Simla Hadasha, also on shechita; Levushe Serad being described as the most important commentary on that work ^[21] It does not include the text of Yoreh De’ah, on which Levushe Serad comments and elucidates.

1819, Levushe Serad

Levushe Serad on Orah Haim was first published in Mohilev (1805). This volume, on Yoreh Deah is the third edition, it too having been printed previously in Mohilev (1812).^[22]

Havvat Da’at – Among the books printed in 1820 was another work on Shulhan Arukh Yoreh Deah, but considerably different from Levushe Serad, that is, R. Jacob ben Jacob Moses Lorbeerbaum of Lissa’s (c. 1760–1832) Havvat Da’at. It was published as a folio (2⁰: [1], 37 [should say 36], [34] ff.) in the year “Day to day makes utterance, night to night speaks out יום ליום יביע אומר ולילה ללילה יחוה דעת (470 = 1805)” 19:3), This chronogram is also misdated, as is noted by the NLI catalogue, which records it as a circa 1820 imprint; which also states that the printer, who is not identified on the title-page, is unknown.

1820, Havvat Da’at

Jacob Lorbeerbaum of Lissa was a distinguished rabbi, who served in several communities, writing, in addition to Havvat Da’at other valued works. ^[23] However, his early days were difficult and troubled. His father, rabbi of Zborow, passed away prior to Lorbeerbaum’s birth; he was raised by R. Joseph Te’omim (Pri Megadim, 1727–1792), a relative. He initially combined learning and business, being a partner in a brewery but, when that failed, Lorbeerbaum became rabbi in Monasterzyska, founding a yeshivah there. He subsequently became rabbi of Kałusz writing many of his earliest works there, including Havvat Da’at which, reflecting his great humility, was originally published anonymously. When his authorship was subsequently identified ,Havvat Da’at became the name by which he is known.^[24]

In 1809, Lorbeerbaum became rabbi of Lissa. Lorbeerbaum was an opponent of the Haskalah movement, their influence resulting in his leaving Lissa in 1822 and returning to Kalisz. Disputes there forced him, in 1830, to again relocate again finally settling in Stryj, serving there as rabbi until his death.

The title-page of Havvat Da’at states that it is on Shulhan Arukh Yoreh Deah, which is a tree of knowledge “desirable as a source of wisdom” (Genesis 3:6), for the pure and the impure. It continues that it is comprised of two parts, Biurim, explanations in depth based on prior commentaries and Hiddushim, novellae, interpretative explanations of statutes and critical analysis. On both sides of the pressmark is the standard disclaimer that the contemporary peoples among whom the Jews dwell today are not immoral idol worshippers as in the past.

The commentary, as described on the title-page, is in two parts, about the text of the Shulhan Arukh. Chaim Tchernowitz describes the subject matter of Havvat Da’at as being on such subjects as salting of meat, meat and milk, mixtures, interest, niddah, and other halakhot dealing with prohibitions such as Stam Yeinam (gentile wine), and treifus. He concludes that according to Havvat Da’at even with laws dealing with permitted and prohibited foods there is room for critical and analytical critique.^[25]

Given the title-page variations of this edition, described above, it is not surprising that Avraham Yaari questions, concisely, whether Havvat Da’at is a Hrubieszow imprint. He suggests that it was published elsewhere, writing “one more book that is listed as having been published in Hrubieszow was actually published in Polonne. This is Chavat Da’at by Ya’akov of Lissa.”^[26] While we have noted a number of variations in Havvat Da’at, such as the dating error in the chronogram, albeit not that unusual for Hrubieszow publications, the absence of the printers’ names, and a pressmark that is not common to Hrubieszow title-pages, there is also the fact, in contrast to these varoiances, that the place of printing is clearly given on the title-page as Hrubieszow. Furthermore, other bibliographic sources, such as Friedberg’s Bet Eked Sefarim and Vinograd’s Thesaurus record Havvat Da’at as a Hrubieszow imprint. An examination of a sample of Polonne and Sudylkow (also suggested) title-pages did not show any like images. The question of whether Havvat Da’at was a Hrubieszow imprint or was published elsewhere is a teku (u nresolved).

Another Hrubieszow imprint by Jacob Lorbeerbaum of Lissa is a folio edition of Beit Ya’akov, novellae and commentary on Shulchan Aruch, Even Ha–Ezer and tractate Ketubot. The printers are given as Moses Tzikor, of Laszczow, and Solomon, ben David Lev, of Laszczow, Menahem Mendel Finkel Stein having already left the press.

This is the fourth printing of Havvat Da’at. The first edition was published in Lvov (1799).

Avodat ha-Kodesh – Among the books printed in Hrubieszow in 1820 is Avodat ha-Kodesh by R. Ḥayyim Joseph David ben Isaac Zerachia Azulai (Hida, 1724-1807), a prominent kabbalist, rabbinic scholar, bibliophile, and prolific author. More than eighty works are attributed to him, sixty in print, on a wide variety of subjects on Torah, halachah, aggadah, and kabbalah.^[27] Avodat ha-Kodesh, an 18 cm. octavo(80: 40 ff.) is comprised of three related works, Vinograd records each independently, that is, Avodat ha-Kodesh, Moreh be-Etzba, and Ziporin Shamir as separate entires. All three titles, kabbalistic explanations of customs, are in octavo format (8⁰) and relatively small works. Shimon Vanunu, describes Avodat ha-Kodesh as a compilation of several of Hida’s prior works.^[28]

Hida was born in Jerusalem to a prominent Sephardic family, descendant from exiles from Spain, and his great-grandfather was the kabbalist R. Abraham Azulai (c. 1570–1643, Hesed le-Avraham), originally from Fez, Morrocco and on his maternal side from R. Joseph Bialer, a German scholar. He was educated by leading rabbinic figures, among them R. Isaac ha-Kohen Rapoport, R. Shalom Sharabi, and R. Haim ibn Attar (Ohr ha-Haim). He served as rabbi in several communities and beginning in 1755, served as an emissary from Eretz Israel to Jewish communities in Europe.

1820, Avodat ha-Kodesh

The title-page has the heading Avodat ha-Kodesh in large bold type and below notes the other two works, and then that the book was brought to press by R. Jacob ben Naphtali Hertz of Brod and that it had been printed previously in Livorno. The title-page is dated in a straightforward manner as (תק”פ = 1820). The verso of the title-page has the disclaimer that the non-Jews among

whom the Jews noted above that contemporary nations are unlike the earlier nations who were immoral idol worshippers, but today show respect for Torah and do justice and righteousness in their lands. It is followed by the tailpiece noted above that appears on the title-pages of several books. Examples of the text are:

147: all who say shirat ha-yam (Exodus 14:30 – 15:19) with joy as if he himself had been delivered from the sea, Pharoh, and his army, when they drowned in the sea, and says Shira with great feeling is forgiven his iniquities.

148: all who weep and mourn for a person who was kosher is forgiven his iniquiites.

149: all who pray erev Shabbat and say [the prayer] ויכלו “the heavens and earth were completed” (Genesis 2:1), two angles say to him turn your eyes and your sins will be atoned for.

The pressmark appears at the end of the book as a tail-piece.

Tomer Devorah – Another work published in 1820 is R. Moses ben Jacob Cordovero’s (Ramak, 1522-1570) popular and much reprinted Tomer Devorah. A small kabbalistic, ethical, and inspirational treatise, it was published as a 19 cm. octavo (14 ff).

Moses ben Jacob Cordovero was the first to describe the dialectical process through which the Sefirot pass in their development and to interpret the various stages of their emanation as manifestations of the Divine mind.^[29] Based on his name, Cordovero appears to have been descended from Jewish exiles from the city of Cordova. It has been suggested, but this is uncertain, that he was born in Safed. Cordovero was a student of R. Joseph Caro (1488-1575) in nigleh (revealed, literal Torah) and, after heeding a heavenly voice that urged him to study Kabbalah, of his brother-in-law, R. Solomon Alkabez (Lekhah Dodi) in nistar (esoteric Torah, Kabbalah). Cordovero became a leader of the ascetic mystical community of Safed, preparing for it a list of rules of conduct, primarily instructions and commands. He served as a dayyan in Safed and founded a yeshivah there in about 1550, which he headed until his death in 1570.

Among Cordovero’s students were R. Elijah de Vidas (Reshit Hokhmah), R. Abraham Galante (ha-Kadosh), R. Samuel Gallico (Asis Rimmonim, an abridgement of Pardes Rimmonim), R. Hayyim Vital, and R. Isaac Luria (ha-Ari). Although Luria was Cordovero’s student for a short while only, and his system of Kabbalah would supplant that of Cordovero, Luria refers to Cordovero as his master and teacher, testifying that Cordovero was completely free of sin, that both the sages of the Mishnah and Elijah the Prophet appeared to him, and that at Cordovero’s funeral a pillar of fire preceded his coffin. Others, such as R. Menahem Azariah da Fano, although in Italy, considered themselves disciples of Cordovero. A prolific writer, he is responsible for several of the classics of Kabbalah.^[30]

Tomer Devorah is entitled from “And she sat under the palm tree of Deborah (Tomer Devorah) between Ramah and Beth‑El in Mount Ephraim” (Judges 4:5). The title-page urges man to follow a straight path, to end his isolation and reflect on his ways, to cleave to the order of the sephirot. The printers are given as Menahem Mendel Finkel Stein and Moses Tzikor of Łaszczów, their names preceded by honorifics. The title-page is dated with the chronogram in the year “This is the Teaching that Moses placed before the children of Israel זאת התורה אשר שם משה לפני בני ישראל (580 = 1820)” (Deuteronomy 4:44).

1820, Tomer Devorah

The text is comprised of ten chapters describing Divine qualities and how man should strive to emulate them. They are, 1) the Supernal Crown (Keter) and the thirteen attributes of higher mercy which belong to it; 2) the qualities of the crown, such as humility and kindness, eradicating pride from the heart; 3) wisdom (Hokhmah), love and care for all creatures; 4) understanding (Binah) and repentance; 5) on mercy (Hesed), the methods of performing mercy and assisting the Sefirot to function harmoniously; 6) power (Gevurah), utilizing the evil inclination to serve God; 7) beauty (Tiferet), the study of Torah and behavior appropriate to a scholar; 8) Endurance, Majesty and Foundation (Netzach, Hod and Yesod), support of Torah students and purity of life; 9) Sovereignty (Malkut), sacrifices for Torah and performing marital duties with holiness; 10) Man’s conduct so that he is never separated from the world of the Sefirot. An example of the text, from Keter, is:

Keter – Some major activities that are the main governance: Further for a person to resemble his Creator from the secret of the trait of the Crown (Keter), he must [do] some major activities – which are the main governance. The first: The trait of humility – which includes everything – because it is dependent on the Crown. As behold, It is a trait over all of the Traits, but it does not raise itself and become proud above [the others]. Indeed, It goes down and always looks downwards. And that is from two reasons: The one is that It is embarrassed to look at Its Cause, rather Its Emanator always looks down upon It to benefit It; and It looks down to the lower ones. So [too,] must a person be embarrassed from staring upwards, to be proud. Rather, he must always stare downwards, to diminish himself all that he can.^[31]

The title page is followed by a brief introduction from R. Moses Basola, with the pressmark. He found the manuscript of Tomer Devorah in the library of R. Menahem Azriah, who gave it to Basola, in order to bring it to press to merit Israel.

Tomer Devorah is replete with allusions from Talmudic and kabbalistic sources, systemizing and vividly presenting abstruse concepts. It has been frequently republished and translated into other languages, among them English. Tomer Devorah was first published in Venice (1588); this the Hrubieszow edition, is the fourteenth. The Bet Eked Sefarim records thirty-two editions, several with annotations, and not recording translations.^[32]

Ayyelet Ahavim – A rhetorical and poetic treatise on the Akedah (sacrifice of Isaac) by R. Solomon de Oliveyra (1633-1708). Ayyelet Ahavim was printed as a 19 cm. octavo (8⁰: [4], 20, [1] ff.). It is dated in a straightforward manner as תקפ”א,ה ([5]581 = 1821).

R. Solomon de Oliveyra is accounted among the Sephardic sages of Amsterdam.^[33] Oliveyra’s place of birth, whether Lisbon or Amsterdam, is uncertain. Albert Van Der Heide suggests that as Oliveyra’s parents were fugitive co1nversos, as documented in Amsterdam in 1628, he must have been born in the latter location. Also, based on the marriage certificate issued by the city of Amsterdam, Oliveyra married Rached Dias in 1660, when twenty-seven years old, again attesting to Amsterdam as his place of birth.^[34] Oliveyra served as rabbi (hakham) and teacher in the Talmud Torah Etz Haim of the Keter Torah association of the Amsterdam Portuguese community, of which he later became president. He was a member of the rabbinical council, over which he presided after the death of R. Jacob Sasportas (c. 1610-98). In addition to these rabbinic positions, Oliveyra worked as a corrector in the printing-house of Uri Phoebus.^[35] Oliveyra was the author of a number of varied multi-lingual works on grammar, lexicography, other philological subjects, poetry, and riddles. Van Der Heide has described Oliveyra as “the preeminent and omnipresent Hebrew poet of Jewish Amsterdam.” Oliveyra became, for a time, an adherent of Shabbetai Zevi, composing liturgical verse in his behalf as well as writing approbations

The primary publisher of Oliveyra’s books was David de Castro Tartas (c. 1625–c. 1700), active from 1662 to 1698 in Amsterdam. Their relationship began in 1665, when our subject work, Ayyelet Ahavim ws published. The title-page begins that it is Igeret: words of truth, “to understand a proverb, and a figure” (Proverbs 1:6). It is entitled Ayyelet Ahavim for it was “a precious vessel” (Hosea 13:15, Nahum 2:10, II Chronicles 32:27), “To receive the instruction of wisdom” (Proverbs 1:3), “He established it and searched it out” (Job 28:27), by the rav, the Sephardic sage SOLOMON ben DAVID Oliveyra, in the month of Ziv in the year תי”ז (1657, printed in Amsterdam in the year תכ”ה (1665). It adds that it has now been brought to press by R. Abraham Moses ben Solomon ha-Levi of Lublin: with the permission of the censor in Hrubieszow at the press of Moses ben Tzikor of Łaszczów.

1821, Ayyelet Ahavim

Oliveyra’s introduction follows (2a-b) in which he states that he does not wish to delve into deep explanations nor to go up to the heights of discourse, but rather his heart wishes to speak of the greatness of that “righteous man, who quarried the fetters of love, of that which he formed יצורו for the love of the One Who formed him יוצרו.” Oliveyra’s intent is to investigate this holy and wondrous deed. Among the several reasons that he entitled this work Ayyelet Ahavim is that it is on the love of Abraham and his soul for God “As the hart longs for water streams” (cf. Psalms 42:2). The wide-ranging text is comprised of numerous aggadot, and including riddles and parables. In one section the alternating paragraphs of verse are between father and son. The prose text is accompanied by infrequent marginal references.

First printed in Amsterdam (1665) this is the third and last published edition Of Ayyelet Ahavim.^[36]

Summation – Ten books have been described. The selected books give an insight to the type of works published by the Hrubieszow press. They are generally of a scholarly and specialized nature, primarily Hasidic works on the weekly parasha (Torah reading), ethical, and halachic tomes, although varied within each category. These works reflect both the composition and interests of the community. One book, Gedolus David u-Malchus Shaul, stands out, being of a contrary nature, that is, it has maskilic overtones. The provenance of one other work, Havvat Da’at, has been questioned. Also published were two editions of Shir ha-Shirim (1816, 1827), the former not seen, the latter (1820) with the commentaries of R. Eliezer ben Judah (Rokeah) and R. Moes ben Nachman (Ramban).

A lacuna in the press’s publications is the absence of Mishnaic and Talmudic volumes, attesting to the press’s emphases on small books, perchance the nature of its’ operations, a small publisher catering to and meeting a small market’s needs. It did, however, print an Ein Ya’acov, on the aggadot in the Talmud, this with the commentary Kotnot Or. The emphasis on small works does not in any way detract from the value of the press’s publications. Indeed, the books were well printed and attractive. Yaari, however, while approving of their appearance is not so positive as to the titles printed, writing “The books printed in Hrubieszow were elegant in appearance, but not of significant content. Most had been printed previously by other presses. These books were in great demand, such as popular Yiddish books.”

As noted above, the Thesaurus credits the Hrubieszow press with as many as forty titles, although that number appears uncertain, or perhaps exaggerated; Avraham Ya’ari recorded thirty-four titles only. Perchance, the difference in number can be attributed to the manner in which books are recorded. Avodat ha-Kodesh, for example, is a composite of three works, each listed independently in the Thesaurus but one entry only in Yaari’s listing. Summerly, there are three entries in the Thesaurus for Siddur Tefillat Nehora, a two-part prayer book designed so that it can be used for both Ashkenaz ads Sephardic rites. There is one listing only by Yaari, but more detailed. The entries in the Thesaurus for Tefillat Nehora are several years apart (1817, 1821, [1824]). To complicate matters, Yaari has several entries for Kotnot Or but the Thesaurus has one entry only for the Ein Ya’acov. The exact number of publications must remain then a teku (unresolved).

We have noted misdates and censors’ remarks. Yaari comments on this writing:

The names of the town or the printers are omitted from the title pages of several of the books printed in Hrubieszow. This is probably due to censorship, or book tariff payment. Sometimes the printers mentioned their names in some copies but not in others; sometimes they even inserted the name of a different town or stated a different year, to deceive the censor or the tariff–collector

No books omitting Hrubieszow were seen or noted.^[37] Why then, printing with the censors’ approval they would omit their names is unclear. Indeed, the books described above, all, with the exceptions of Havvat Da’at all have the printers’ names. In conclusion, as already noted, the Hrubieszow press published small varied books covering a variety of subjects. The books served communal needs, were works of value, and attractively printed. A press only active for a brief period, it served the Hrubieszow community well. It deserves, should be remembered, in addition entries in bibliographic and historical records.

1. I would like to express my appreciation to Eli Genauer for reading the article and his corrective comments, and Eli Amsel for his additional insights. All the title and text page images are courtesy of the National Library of Israel. The Polish monarchy banner is a public domain image. ↑
2. Vinograd, Yeshayahu. Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. place, and year printed, name of printer, number of pages and format, with annotations and bibliographical references II (Jerusalem, 1993-95), p. 167 [Hebrew]. ↑
3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hrubiesz%C3%B3w ↑
4. The Encyclopedia of Jewish life Before and During the Holocaust, editor in chief, Shmuel Spector; consulting editor, Geoffrey Wigoder; foreword by Elie Wiesel I (New York, 2001), pp. 532-34; Polin: Virtual Shtetl https://sztetl.org.pl/en/towns/h/266-hrubieszow/99-history/137366-history-of-community; Dr. N. M. Gelber, Notes on the History of the Jews of Hrubieszow, tr. Yael Chaver, https://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/Hrubieszow/hru021.html. ↑
5. Hurvitz Tzvi Ha–Levi Ish Hurvitz, “The Town of Hrubieszow and its Rabbis,” translated by Yael Chaver, Columns 51-52. https://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/Hrubieszow/hru051.html ↑
6. Avraham Yaari, “The Hebrew Printing Press in Hrubieszow,” Kiryat Sefer, (Jerusalem, 1943–4), pp. 219–228 [Hebrew], tr. by Yael Chaver https://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/Hrubieszow/hru051.html#Page57 ↑
7. Dr. N. M. Gelber, Notes on the History of the Jews of Hrubieszow, tr. Yael Chaver, https://www.jewishgen.org/yizkor/Hrubieszow/hru021.html.. ↑
8. Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography in Poland from the bginning of the year 1534, and its development up to our days . . . Second Edition, Enlarged, improved and revised from the sources (Tel Aviv, 1950), pp.150-52 [Hebrew]. ↑
9. Mordechai, Margalioth, ed., Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel I (Tel Aviv, 1986), cols. 179-80 [Hebrew].Tzvi M. Rabinowicz, The Encyclopedia of Hasidism (Northvale, 1996), pp.111-12. ↑
10. Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography in Poland, op. cit. ↑
11. Arnold Green, “Elimelekh of Lizhensk, “The Yivo Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe, Gershon David Hundert, ed. I (New Haven & London, 2008), p. 467; Rabinowicz, op. cit. ↑
12. Marvin J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus II (Leiden, 2004) p. 697: Simcha Kogut, “The Language of Sefer Hasidim, Its Linguistic Background and Methods of Research,” in Studies in Medieval Jewish History and Literature, ed. Isadore Twersky, II (Cambridge, 1984), pp. 95-108; Reuben Margaliot, ed., Sefer Hasidim (Jerusalem, 1973), pp. 3-9 [Hebrew]. ↑
13. https://www.encyclopedia.com/religion/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/ha-efrati-tropplowitz-joseph ↑
14. To replace a sheet with a single error would necessitate replacing several pages, the number depending on the book format. The normal practice, therefore, was to retain the original defective sheet and use both it and the corrected sheet in copies of the book. Due to cost factors, both of paper and labor, the sheet with the error would be replaced only if the error was substantial or substantive. It is therefore possible for books to consist of non-uniform copies, having several sheets with variant readings. For examples of such errors see Marvin J. Heller, “Who can discern his errors? Misdates, Errors, and Deceptions, in and about Hebrew Books, Intentional and Otherwise” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought 12 (2011), pp. 269-91, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 395-420. ↑
15. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography in Poland, p, 151 n. 1. ↑
16. Ch. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim, (Israel n.d.), gimmel 128, mem 1922 [Hebrew]. ↑
17. Rabinowicz, p. 61. ↑
18. Margalioth, Great Men, II col. 465-66; Meyer Waxman, A History of Jewish Literature (1933, reprint Cranbury, 1960), II pp. 276-79. ↑
19. Friedberg, Bet Eked.Sefarim, yod 1152. ↑
20. Louis Ginzberhg, N. T. London, “Eibenschutz, David Solomon,” Jewish Encyclopedia V (1New York, 901-06), pp. 75-78. ↑
21. Itzhak Alfassi “Schor, Alexander Sender ben Ephraim Zalman” v. 18 Encyclopedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 161; Chaim Tchernowitz, Toledoth ha-Poskim, III (New York, 1946), pp. 206-08 [Hebrew]. ↑
22. Friedberg, Bet Eked.Sefarim, lamed 108. ↑
23. Lorbeerbaum’s other published works are Ma’aseh Nissim (Zolkiew, 1801), on the Passover Haggadah; Mekor Ḥayyim (ibid., 1807), novellae and expositions of the laws of Passover in the Shulḥan Arukh together with the glosses of R. David ben Samuel ha-Levi and Abraham Abele Gombiner on Oraḥ Ḥyyim and novellae to tractate Keritot; Netivot ha-Mishpat (ibid., 1809–16), on Ḥoshen Mishpat; Torat Gittin (Frankfurt on the Oder, 1813), the laws of divorce and novellae on tractate Gittin; Kehillat Ya’akov (1831), on Even ha-Ezer and sections of Oraḥ Ḥayyim; Derekh ha-Ḥayyim, an anthology of liturgical laws, first published with the prayer book (1828) and then separately (1860 or 1870); Naḥalat Ya’akov (1849), expositions of the Pentateuch; Emet le-Ya’akov (1865), expositions of talmudic aggadot; Imrei Yosher, commentaries on the five megillot, each published independently; his ethical will (1875); and Millei de-Aggadeta (1904), sermons and responsa (EJ, op. cit.). In a private correspondence Eli Amsel noted other such works, writing “Another Hrubieszow imprint by Jacob Lorbeerbaum of Lissa is a folio edition of Beit Ya’akov, novellae and commentary on Shulchan Aruch, Even Ha–Ezer and tractate Ketubot.” ↑
24. Haim Gertner, “Lorbeerbaum, Ya‘akov ben Ya‘akov Mosheh of Lissa, Yivo Encyclopedia, I pp. 1087-88; Ephraim Kupfer, “Lorbeerbaum, Jacob ben Jacob Moses of Lissa” Encyclopedia Judaica XIII pp. 191-92. ↑
25. Tchernowitz, Toledoth ha-Poskim, III, p. 258. ↑
26. The Polonne (Polonnoye) press was active from 1789 to approximately 1830, publishing as many as130 titles. Among them three editions of Havvat Da’at. An accompanying note in the Polonnoye entry references it as a Sudylkow imprint (Vinograd, p. 502). Two [1834] editions of Havvat Da’at are listed for that location. ↑
27. Yaakov Amsalem and Yisrael A. Groweiss, “The Hida’s Riddle,” Mishpaha, March 22, 2022. ↑
28. Shimon Vanunu, Encyclopedia Arzei ha-Levanon. Encyclopedia le-Toldot Geonei ve-Hakhmei Yahadut Sefarad ve-ha-Mizrah II 649-(Jerusalem, 2006), pp. 649-69 [Hebrew]. The works noted by Vanunu are Moreh be-Etzba, Ziporin Shamir, Kesher Gadol, Kaf Ahas, Yosef be_Seder, Sensen le-Ir, and Shomir Yisrael. ↑
29. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book, var. cit. ; Gershom S. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York, 1960). Pp. 252-53. ↑
30. Concerning other works by Moses Cordovero see Marvin J. Heller, “His Hand did not Leave Hers Until he was Grown: Two Little Known Works from Moses Cordovero (Ramak)” Los Muestros no. 44 (Brussels, 2001), pp. 44-46, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 278-83. ↑
31. https://www.sefaria.org/Tomer_Devorah.2.2?lang=bi&with=SidebarSearch&lang2=en. ↑
32. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim, tav 484. ↑
33. Concerning see Marvin J, Heller, ” Solomon de Oliveyra:
    A Seventeenth Century Sephardic Sage,” Sephardic Horizons (v. 13: 1-2 Winter-Spring 2023), https://www.sephardichorizons.org/. ↑
34. Albert Van Der Heide, “Poetry in the Margin: The Literary Career of Haham Selomoh d’Oliveyra (1633-1708),” Studia Rosenthaliana 40 (2007-08), pp. 14. ↑
35. L. Fuks and R. G. Fuks-Mansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585-1815 2 (Leiden, 1987), p. 247; Margalioth, col. 1264 [Hebrew]. ↑
36. Friedberg, Bet Eked.Sefarim, alef 1626. ↑
37. While I did not see any such works, Eli Amsel also wrote “I have several in my collection, only TWO without the city mentioned in title, Bet Ya’akov, cityless; Pri Etz Chaim, with koretz as the city in very small font!!!” ↑