1. Uninvited listeners

The bar-mitzvah celebration was held in the study hall of the Tomchei Temimim Yeshivah, and only the senior students1 were admitted. Those who belonged to the regular classes were in a nearby room, and every so often one of them would sneak into the zal in order to be able to hear what the Rebbe was saying.

Among the admurim present was the Rebbe of Lublin.2 At one point he spotted one of these uninvited young students threading his cheerful way inside, hiding behind one of his older colleagues, and then listening attentively to the Chassidus that was being expounded.

The door opened, and another student slipped in — except that this young fellow was noticed by one of the study supervisors. Now everyone knew of the Rebbe’s firm directive, demanding that everything in the Yeshivah in particular, and in the chassidic community at large, should be conducted in an orderly and disciplined manner, though always in an atmosphere of love and kindliness. Accordingly, the mashgiach whispered a few words into the ear of the newcomer, who returned to join his classmates in the adjoining room.

The Rebbe of Lublin realized full well that what he had now perceived was not accidental: it was part of an intentional pattern that engaged his interest. He therefore asked the Rebbe why some of the students were not being admitted; after all, they too wanted to listen to what was being said.

Pleased that his guest had been observing the conduct of the students, the Rebbe replied:

The Chabad tradition demands pnimiyus, divine service characterized by inward integrity. And the prerequisite for this is avodah that proceeds by orderly and gradated stages.

2. Interior renovation

The Alter Rebbe teaches that the only way to attain pnimiyus is through mesirus nefesh, self-sacrifice.

Being at the level of pnimiyus means that one has content of one’s own, and this lives on in one’s children and grandchildren; being in the opposite state, chitzoniyus, means that one is devoid of content, even within oneself. The outwardly-oriented chitzon is a bluff, a person without foundations; the inwardly-oriented pnimi is thorough, and firmly based.

In the Mussaf service of the three pilgrim festivals we read: Umipnei chata’einu… and so on. In its context this sentence translates simply: “Because of our sins we were exiled from our land, and have grown distant from our soil, and we are unable to go up [to the Beis HaMikdash3].” In addition, however, these words have been interpreted in the spirit of Chassidus and avodah as follows: חֵטְא (lit., “sin”) signifies a shortcoming;4 אֶרֶץ (lit., “land”) signifies will, in line with the teaching of the Midrash: “Why is אֶרֶץ so called?5 — Because it desired (רָצְתָה) to fulfill the will of its Creator”; אֲדָמָה means soil, and man is accordingly called אָדָם,6 because G‑d made the human body out of soil. Hence:

Umipnei chata’einu…: Because of our shortcomings — in that we do not engage in the avodah of Chassidus at the level of pnimiyus, being content instead to discharge our obligations minimally with avodah at the level of chitzoniyus; we rattle off a chapter of Tanya in the same careless way that some people read their day’s allotment of Tehillim; as to the “service of the heart,”7 it barely rates a mention;8 — because of our shortcomings, then,

galinu mei’artzeinu: we have been cast out to the point that we have forgotten the taste of a proper, truthful desire [for spiritual self-improvement]; indeed,

venisrachaknu mei’al admaseinu: day by day we grow more distant from our adam, from the chassidisher inner man who is to be found through inwardly-directed avodah – until, G‑d forbid,

v’ein anu yecholim laalos: we have so sorely neglected ourselves that we are no longer able to rise.




During the winter of 5663 (1903), when I accompanied my father for the couple of months he spent consulting medical specialists in Vienna, he would sometimes go out in the evening to visit the shtiblach of the local Polish Jews — to be among chassidim, to hear a story from their mouths, to listen to a chassidic vort, and to observe fine conduct and refined character.

3. How not to slip downhill

One Wednesday night, on the eve of the Fifteenth of Shvat, my father visited one of these shtiblach, where several hoary chassidim were sitting around together and talking. As my father and I drew nearer, we heard that they were telling stories of the saintly R. Meir of Premishlan.

Among other things, they related that the mikveh in R. Meir’s neighborhood had stood at the foot of a steep mountain. When the slippery weather came, everyone had to walk all the way around for fear of slipping on the mountain path and breaking their bones — everyone, that is, apart from R. Meir, who walked down that path whatever the weather, and never slipped.

One icy day, R. Meir set out as usual to take the direct route to the mikveh. Two guests were staying in the area, sons of the rich who had come somewhat under the influence of the “Enlightenment” of the Haskalah movement. These two young men did not believe in supernatural achievements, and when they saw R. Meir striding downhill with sure steps as if he were on a solidly paved highway, they wanted to demonstrate that they too could negotiate the hazardous path. As soon as R. Meir entered the mikveh building, therefore, they took to the road. After only a few steps they stumbled and slipped, and needed medical treatment for their injuries.

Now one of them was the son of one of R. Meir’s close chassidim, and when he was fully healed he mustered the courage to approach the tzaddik with his question: Why was it that no man could cope with that treacherous path, yet the Rebbe never stumbled?

Replied R. Meir: “If a man is bound up on high, he doesn’t fall down below. Meir’l is bound up on high, and that is why he can go up and down, even on a slippery hill.”

4. Being bound up on high

My father was under doctor’s orders to go outdoors for a certain period for a daily constitutional. So from the shtibl we stepped out into the clear and balmy night, and strolled along the garden path that ran down the middle of one of the local avenues, where the moon lit up every detail for several paces ahead.

My father was so deep in meditation that he drew the attention of many passers-by. Whenever I observed him in this state I yearned to know what he was thinking about. I watched intently for any facial expression or movement that might disclose a hint of what thoughts were engaging his mind, and what world his mind was now surveying.

One of the differences that Chassidus highlights between speech and thought, is that speech reveals something to another, whereas thought obscures: one person can think all day long, and the next person will not know what he is thinking about. It is further pointed out, however, that it is the details of his thought that remain hidden. A general perception of his thinking — whether it concerns an intellectual concept, or a question of middos — can be gleaned from his facial features.

We walked on together for such a long time that I began to feel uncomfortable. Continuing our stroll in this way made me feel morose and downhearted. Every minute lasted an hour, until at length a deep sigh inadvertently passed my lips.

At this my father stopped short and looked me through — all the way through — and said: “Why do you sigh? If a man is bound up on high, he doesn’t fall down below.

“True enough,” he continued, “that ‘from the positive statement one may deduce the negative.’9 If one is bound up on high he doesn’t fall down below. If, however, he isn’t bound up on high, then not only can he fall down below, but as well (G‑d forbid) he can become bound to lowly things — a most unfortunate stage. But even then one must not sigh.”




One ought to study Chassidus, and to do so in a spirit of pnimiyus, so that its effect should be felt in one’s practical avodah. In Chassidus there is to be found counsel for every situation, and a cure for every spiritual malady.

5. The critical role of a chassidisher farbrengen

This is all true, provided one studies Chassidus: then one finds advice on how to cope with all shortcomings, and remedies for every malady. But when one studies Chassidus at a detached and superficial level, without being deeply concerned about integrating one’s studies into one’s own avodah, the result is that “we are unable to rise,” being bound to lowly things.

In bygone years, when the Tomchei Temimim Yeshivah was located in Lubavitch,10 people had a firmly-based conception of the epithets pnimi and chitzon. In the course of time, however, with the ravages of its bitter exile,11 people gradually began to forget (G‑d forbid) what Chassidus terms a chitzon, and what Chassidus terms a pnimi.

When, with G‑d’s help, chassidim will obey, and fully observe the prescribed order of events of Shabbos Mevarchim,12 not only by reading the Book of Tehillim [before Shacharis], but also by participating [after Mussaf] in a farbrengen, at which the older people present will recount things heard from the mouths of senior chassidim in their time, as well as things that they themselves have heard and observed relating to the Rebbeim and the older members of the chassidic fraternity) — then will Chassidus revive, and will invigorate the entire chassidic brotherhood with an inner vitality.

6. Living at the level of one’s perceptions

The [Alter] Rebbe says that the only way to arrive at pnimiyus is through mesirus nefesh, and this capacity for self-sacrifice is bequeathed as an inheritance from parents to children and grandchildren. And herein lies the distinction between makkif and pnimi. Avodah at the level of makkif is a lofty thing — but it is an expression of chitzoniyus; avodah at the level of pnimi is fundamental, and it is transmitted by inheritance.

The Chabad tradition demands pnimiyus, the prerequisite for which is avodah and toil, and a person ought to demand of himself that his desire [to attain pnimiyus] be genuine.

There were times when even young adults were not granted admission to a farbrengen. Some years later permission began to be granted — but it is essential that those who want to enter in order to hear what is being said, should genuinely want to enter. And for that to happen one has to lock the door, because such is human nature: denying someone admission sharpens his appetite. If instead the door is left open, and whoever wants to enter can do so, such an entry does not stem from pnimiyus.

He who is a pnimi exerts himself intensely in order that he should want to fulfill a mitzvah as beautifully as possible.13 And at the moment that he genuinely wants to do so, that is when he does it. In other words, he labors towards spiritual integrity, towards living at the level of his perceptions.14 And in order to attain this, so that the task at hand should really matter to one, one needs avodah.

One Shabbos many years ago, quite a number of eminent chassidim who were visiting Lubavitch were invited to my father’s table. When it came to netilas yadayim, they observed that my father poured water three times on each hand. This brought on a discussion among the rabbanim present as to where such a law could be found. And when they were all seated, the eldest of them asked my father for its source.

My father thought a little while, and then replied that at that moment he did not recall where it was written, but if he was so accustomed it no doubt had written authority.

“Before my bar-mitzvah,’’ he went on, “my father15 called me in and told me that one ought to thoroughly study all the laws that have practical application. I thereupon accustomed each of the organs of my body to the laws that relate to it. So if I wash each hand three times, it must surely have a written source.”

True to tradition, word of this spread quickly among the chassidim, who all began [to do netilas yadayim as my father had done,] pouring the water three times on each hand, and holding the dipper with a towel.

My father once elaborated on the difference between fulfilling (on the one hand) a hiddur or a law, and (on the other hand) a hiddur that embellishes an existing hiddur.16 He concluded his talk by saying that a pnimi labors towards desperately wanting to fulfill a mitzvah with every possible embellishment, and with a vitality that springs from within.

7. An unseen listener

The teachings of Chabad demand pnimiyus.

A story has been passed down to us that dates from the childhood of the Tzemach Tzedek. We do not know exactly how old my great-grandfather was at the time, but from the fact that it took place when the [Alter] Rebbe17 was still in Liozna, between his first and his second stay in Petersburg,18 we may infer that my great-grandfather was then ten years old.19

During the Alter Rebbe’s last years in Liozna, in about 5557 (1797), in addition to the chassidic discourses that he used to deliver in public, he began to expound Chassidus privately to his children. This would take place late every Friday evening, and included expositions on the Zohar. It occasionally happened that a few select individuals were also present, but that was rare.

At different times we have had occasion to describe the Alter Rebbe’s dwelling20 in Liozna. One half21 of the apartment consisted of two large rooms. One of them housed a small minyan, and that was where people used to wait before entering the Rebbe’s study for yechidus. Chassidim used to call it “the Lower Garden of Eden,” while the other room, the Rebbe’s study, was known as “the Upper Garden of Eden.” Between these two rooms stood a large stove, which heated them both.

My great-grandfather longed to hear the Chassidus that the Alter Rebbe was teaching his children, but since he was not allowed to enter, he clambered into the oven one evening, and there he lay and listened.

8. Pnimiyus requires self-sacrifice

It was a frosty Friday night, with a snowstorm too, so the gentile odd-job man brought in firewood and did his best to stoke the stove. Since the wood did not quite seem to fit in, he laid it out just inside the stove door, lit it, opened the flue, and the fire flared up.

Suddenly, bursting out of the door of the stove, the burning sticks shot wildly in all directions, and the poor fellow screamed in alarm. People rushed in from all sides, both from the other half of the apartment, where the rebbitzin22 was then sitting with her daughter-in-law,23 the wife of the Mitteler Rebbe, as well as from the Alter Rebbe’s study, from which the Mitteler Rebbe ran in. The room was strewn with lumps of smoking firewood, and on the floor of the stove they saw — a human frame.

As soon as R. Chaim Avraham24 ran forward and dragged out the little person, the rebbitzin cried out: “Oi! It’s Mendel!”

They were all horror-stricken: the child lay unconscious. The Alter Rebbe placed his hand on his little head and he came to at once.

When the rebbitzin found out that her grandson had repeatedly asked his grandfather in vain for permission to go in and hear the Chassidus that he expounded to his children, and because of his intense yearning had climbed into the stove where he had thankfully been saved from harm, she complained bitterly to the Alter Rebbe: How could he possibly have thought it proper to put a life in jeopardy?

Replied the Alter Rebbe: “The teachings of Chabad demand pnimiyus, and this can be arrived at only through actual self-sacrifice. Before the time of Avraham Avinu there were other great tzaddikim and chassidim; as the Sages teach us, for example: ‘Adam was a truly pious man (chassid).’25 But for pnimiyus to become the established order, to be bequeathed from one generation to the next, the self-sacrifice of the Binding of Yitzchak first had to be forthcoming — for pnimiyus can be attained only through mesirus nefesh.”

My great-grandfather was unwell for two weeks after this incident, suffering severe headache as a result of the smoke and his loss of consciousness. Throughout this time, during which he was not allowed to undertake any serious study, he was visited by his greatuncle the Maharil,26 who used to tell him stories. One of them is an account of the last Yud-Tes Kislev — the anniversary of the passing of the Maggid of Mezritch27 — before R. Menachem Mendel left Horodok for Eretz Yisrael.28

9. The early years in Liozna

The Maharil told my great-grandfather that early in the period of his leadership in Liozna, in the year 5536 (1776), the Alter Rebbe organized a number of young adults who studied Chassidus into a study group. He called such groups “chadarim.” This project did not last long, however, for soon after its establishment, in the month of Adar, R. Menachem Mendel of Horodok set out for Eretz Yisrael. The Alter Rebbe had wanted to accompany him, but various circumstances prevented him from leaving before Pesach. In fact he set out early in Iyar, and with his departure the schedule of the chadarim was discontinued.

The positive results of the Alter Rebbe’s course of study in both nigleh and Chassidus even in the short period that the first two chadarim existed, can be gauged from what R. Menachem Mendel said to the Alter Rebbe when they were in Mohilev Podolsk.

At the same meeting of the Holy Brotherhood of the Maggid’s disciples29 at which it was decided that R. Menachem Mendel should travel to Eretz Yisrael, it was also decided that the Alter Rebbe was to be responsible for Lithuania, acting as the leader of all the chassidim of that region. In addition he was to be the general organizer, determining how to shield the teachings of Chassidus from the attacks of its opponents.

On his return home from that meeting, the Alter Rebbe made it known in all the surrounding regions that the married students supported by their parents or parents-in-law were invited to Liozna for three months in order to be guided in their program of studies. His call attracted quite a number of gifted and scholarly young men, from among whom the Alter Rebbe selected a couple of dozen students. These he classified into two groups, Cheder Alef being higher than Cheder Beis.

10. Souls are superior to angels

For Yud-Tes Kislev, the hillula of the Maggid of Mezritch, the Alter Rebbe traveled to Horodok, to be with R. Menachem Mendel. (Yud-Tes Kislev that year — 5537 (1776) — fell on Shabbos, Parshas Vayishlach.) He was accompanied by several adult students from both chadarim, as well as by his brother, the Maharil. Arriving in Horodok he met a number of former colleagues from Mezritch, including R. Yissachar Dov of Lubavitch, R. Avraham of Kalisk, R. Yisrael of Polotzk, and a couple of minyanim30 of elder chassidim from Kalisk, Yanovitch, Dubrovna, Vitebsk and Beshenkovitz.

The following account of the few days that the Alter Rebbe spent in Horodok originates with the Maharil.




After they had immersed in the mikveh on Friday afternoon, the Alter Rebbe and the three venerable visitors named above entered the study of R. Menachem Mendel. They were accompanied there by [the Maharil], and a number of elder chassidim — R. Zvi and R. Baruch of Yanovitch; R. Elye Yerucham of Dubrovna; R. Yeshaya Zalman and R. Chaim Nota of Beshenkovitz; R. Aharon Zelig of Kalisk; and R. Ber and R. Yechiel, R. Zelig and R. Ephraim, of Vitebsk. All these visitors to Horodok were wearing their Shabbos garb.

When the Holy Brotherhood — the Alter Rebbe and his three colleagues — entered the study, R. Menachem Mendel rose from his place and said: “On several occasions the Rebbe31 explained the superiority of souls over angels, as expounded in the Kabbalah. So if one greets angels joyfully with Bo’achem leshalom,32 with what greater joy ought one to greet souls with Bo’achem leshalom.

“To understand the inner dimension of this: Angels are referred to as mal’achei hashalom, being merely messengers33 of peace, whereas souls are baalei hashalom, which means masters of peace. Peace connotes joining, as in the comment of the Midrash on the verse, Shuvi hashunamis34 (an allusion to the House of Israel): ‘[She is so called] because she made peace35 between Me and My world.’ Souls join Divinity with the world, making the world a fit vessel for Elokus.”

11. Minchah with fire in the air

This said, R. Menachem Mendel seated R. Yissachar Dov at his left, with R. Avraham next to him, and the Alter Rebbe at his right, with R. Yisrael next to him. The other elder chassidim and I remained standing.

After a few moments of silence R. Menachem Mendel spoke as follows: “It is written, Askinu lekursaya kaddisha — ‘Prepare the holy Throne.’36 Things involving holiness require preparation, and this constitutes one’s chief task. Its objective: to allow one to become a receptacle [for holiness], after the manner of a chariot (merkavah). Every ‘chariot’ has four ‘wheels’ (ofanim), which correspond to the four flags [of the encampment of our forefathers in the wilderness]. The Throne has four ‘legs’; the Divine Chariot has four ‘wheels.’ Man is a chariot, and this human chariot includes all four ‘wheels’ of the Divine Chariot oneg (‘delight’), ratzon (‘will’), seichel (‘intellect’) and middos (‘spiritual emotions’).”

R. Menachem Mendel and those seated next to him had all been present at the passing of the Maggid of Mezritch on Yud-Tes Kislev 5533 (1772). He now invited each of those four members of the Holy Brotherhood to recount something from that time.

The first to speak was R. Menachem Mendel himself, and he was followed by R. Yissachar Dov, R. Avraham, and R. Yisrael of Polotzk. The [Alter] Rebbe then spoke until Minchah time, when they all went to the beis midrash in the courtyard to daven.

The eldest of the chassidim at the time was R. Elye Yerucham of Dubrovna. He had visited the Baal Shem Tov a few times, and the Maggid many times. He had the heart of a lion: when he was davenen or reading Tehillim, there was fire in the air. In Dubrovna, in fact, he was known as R. Elye Yerucham the Saraph (“the fiery angel”) — and it was he whom R. Menachem Mendel now appointed as chazzan, to lead the prayers of Minchah. As soon as he intoned the opening words, Ashrei yoshvei veisecha — “Fortunate are those who dwell in Your house,”37 a shudder roused that entire shul, and so it was throughout Minchah.

Immediately thereafter, R. Menachem Mendel repeated the teaching that the Maggid had expounded on the last Shabbos Parshas Vayishlach before his passing. It was based on the verse, Vayhi li shor vachamor (lit., “And I had oxen and donkeys”38). Interpreting this verse, the Midrash39 relates the concept of shor to Yosef, and chamor to Yissachar, shor signifying Mashiach ben Yosef, and chamor signifying Mashiach ben David.

12. Singing in spiritual harmony

The prayers of that Shabbos — Parshas Vayishlach, Yud-Tes Kislev — were apportioned, so as to be led by the following: Kabbalas Shabbos — R. Menachem Mendel; MaarivR. Avraham of Kalisk; Shacharis R. Yissachar Dov of Lubavitch; the Reading of the Torah — the [Alter] Rebbe; Mussaf — R. Yisrael of Polotzk; and Minchah — the [Alter] Rebbe.

The Maharil gave my great-grandfather, the Tzemach Tzedek, a lengthy explanation of the differences between their various styles of prayer. They were all disciples of the Maggid, all members of the Holy Brotherhood, and all united with their Rebbe in an all-encompassing bond, each according to his own lofty level — and despite all that, the prayers of each were different. The prayers of each echoed the distinctive quality of the worshiper.




What we saw and heard that Shabbos, [resumed the Maharil,] words cannot depict. What can be related is only as much as can be contained by the letters that constitute speech.

Between Kabbalas Shabbos and Maariv there was quite a long interval.

Now the [Alter] Rebbe and R. Avraham and R. Yisrael all sang very melodiously. Though their voices varied considerably, it was a pleasure to hear them singing together. The Rebbe’s voice, as is known, was powerful and deep, and inspired awe. R. Avraham sang in a tenor voice that resonated with feeling, which kindled a flame in every theme. The sweet voice of R. Yisrael was of middle pitch and volume, a voice of entreaty that aroused compassion, a voice drawn out and appealing.

When they had studied in Mezritch in the time of the Maggid, the singing of niggunim had occupied its own distinctive place. Among the melodies sung then were such as had been sung in the time of the Baal Shem Tov, and one of those who composed niggunim in those times was R. Michel of Zlotchov. Other melodies had been composed in the time of the Maggid. And the niggunim which the above three personages sang during that interval between Kabbalas Shabbos and Maariv were the ones best loved by the Maggid.

Witnessing the inspired ecstasy of R. Menachem Mendel and R. Yissachar Dov, and so too the dveikus of the three who were singing, everyone who was in the shul at the time saw that they were in a state of union with the soul of their Rebbe, the Maggid. It was clear to us all that the Maggid was then celebrating his hillula in his heavenly abode.40 It was certain that the Baal Shem Tov, the AriZal, R. Shimon bar Yochai, other tzaddikim, geonim, amoraim and tannaim, Moshe Rabbeinu, David HaMelech, and the world’s patriarchs at their head, were all listening to the teachings that the Maggid was then uttering.

And it was palpably visible that here, too, the members of the Holy Brotherhood were likewise listening to the Torah that the Maggid in his heavenly abode was then teaching.

13. The prayerful yearning of earthly souls

His voice aflame, R. Avraham began to intone Kegavna… — “Just as [the six Sefiros] unite above into oneness, so does [the Sefirah of Malchus] unite below into the mystery of oneness, so as to be with them above — unity paralleling unity.”41

These words he sang to a melody comprising three themes, each of which seemed to clearly spell out their meaning. Moreover, these words about the unity in the worlds above, as they came from his mouth, virtually portrayed what was then taking place in the worlds above, and described the yearning of those in the worlds below to be with them above — unity paralleling unity.

Early in the evening meal, R. Menachem Mendel asked the [Alter] Rebbe to repeat one of the teachings that he had heard from the Maggid. They and their colleagues remained at the table till a late hour, and after the meal they were awake all night.

At Minchah the following afternoon (and here the Maharil warmed enthusiastically to his theme), the Rebbe led the prayers and read the Torah. And though he had been called to the Reading of the Torah in the morning, he was nevertheless honored by an aliyah once again.

The meeting of these five members of the Holy Brotherhood lasted three days in all. In the course of that time they thoroughly discussed the guidance of the chassidic fraternity throughout that entire region, and decided that R. Avraham of Kalisk and R. Yisrael of Polotzk should accompany R. Menachem Mendel to Eretz Yisrael. Opinions were divided as to the proposed time of the voyage. The [Alter] Rebbe had favored postponing it until the following year, but it was decided by a majority vote that they should set out that same year, in Adar.

14. A Shabbos in high spirits

On Thursday, the eve of Chanukah, the Rebbe returned with us to Liozna. There we found some thirty chassidim who had come to town from the surrounding regions — from Vitebsk, Nevl, Dobromisl, Yanovitch, Kalisk, Horoditch, Rudny, Lubavitch, Baranovitch, Resosne, Dubrovtze, Liadi, Bayev, Shklov, Kochanov and Semilian. Many of these visitors were profound and well-endowed scholars. Some of them had been among those whose studies the Rebbe had mapped out during the period of his journeys in 5533-5536 (1773-1776), while others dated from a later period.

Their visit gave the Rebbe especial pleasure, because most of them were very active in the dissemination of the teachings of Chassidus, each in his hometown. Prominent in this regard was the learned R. Yossele of Shklov42 — or, as he was called in other circles, R. Yossele Kol-Bo — who years earlier had been one of the most outspoken misnagdim, and then, as a result of a certain scholarly discussion, had become a disciple of the Rebbe, and a vocal advocate of the teachings of Chassidus.

Forgetting the arduous journey, the Rebbe expounded Torah on the evening of his return home, that is, on the night of the first Chanukah light. He delivered two further discourses in the course of Shabbos, and at both meals in the beis midrash he joined some of the visitors and all the students of the chadarim. At both meals the Rebbe spoke of the Maggid, and recounted various episodes that dated from his stay in Mezritch.

It was rare that the Rebbe should participate in the Melavah Malkah meal, but on this Motzaei Shabbos he did. He delivered further Torah teachings, and everyone in the beis midrash was in a festive mood — until something suddenly happened that made them all shudder.

15. Coping with a gentile environment

Those were good times for the Jews of Poland.43 They were able to earn their livelihood, and enjoyed amicable relations with their Polish neighbors. In particular, the gentiles who lived in the villages and settlements where few Jews lived held them in high regard. Their local priests too would often sermonize about the Jews’ qualities of intellect, compassion, hospitality and charity, holding them up for emulation.

In such a neighborly atmosphere, it was not at all rare for a gentile to seek conversion to Judaism. This did not materialize, however, because of the many difficulties which were described to them, as the law requires, and because the rabbanim to whom they applied dissuaded them from taking such a step. But it did also happen, though seldom, that a young Jew or Jewess developed an attachment with a gentile — and in these cases the local priests exerted themselves to the utmost to secure their apostasy.

16. Loaded dialogues

In a village that lay a few kilometers44 past Liozna on the road to Vitebsk, there once lived a widow with her three children — a son who went to school in the cheder in a nearby town, and two daughters who helped their mother earn a livelihood. In the course of time the mother married off her elder daughter to a learned and G‑d-fearing young man whom she supported as a full-time scholar.

The tavern which she operated in her house was frequented by the local gentiles, and among the regular drinkers was the parish priest. This individual was fond of spending long hours every day in religious debates with the young scholar, even though the latter consistently defeated him in argument. And whenever that happened, the priest would sing his praises in the ears of all the bystanders. True enough, the young man was learned and so on, but every little success made him increasingly conceited.

It happened once or twice that some Torah scholars passed through the inn. Not liking what they heard, they advised the young man to desist from these dialogues. Opinionated as always, he ignored them.

Even when the local priest brought along two of his colleagues from neighboring parishes to join in the discussions, the young man still held his own. They never tired of reminding him of his superior gifts, and saw to it that their parishioners showed him every mark of respect.

17. A mask of flattery

At one of their meetings the priest told the young man that he had mentioned his name favorably when speaking to the bishop in Vitebsk, and the prelate had indicated his desire to meet with him. The priest pointed out further that if the young scholar vanquished the bishop in argument, he would be honored beyond imagination. At first the young man would not even listen to such a proposition, but after repeated persuasion by the priest and his colleagues he developed a fancy for it.

The bishop indeed received him most flatteringly, and proceeded forthwith to propose points of faith for debate. After being out-argued point by point, the bishop called in a number of visiting senior clerics and told them that this young man, an outstanding expert in Jewish thought, had just defeated him in argument. Hearing this, one of them told the young man that if he were to remain in Vitebsk for several days’ discussion on the questions that they would pose, they would be most indebted to him. The young man agreed. For several days he stayed on as a guest in a private apartment in the episcopal court, while shopping for his own food. Throughout his stay he was surrounded by deferential clergymen who engaged him in incessant debates.

When the time came for him to leave, the bishop invited all the visiting clerics to a farewell reception in his own chambers. He thanked the young man profusely for honoring them with his presence, and assured him of an enthused welcome at any future visit.

Arriving home the young man uttered no whisper of where he had been. Secretly, however, he felt pleasantly inflated.

18. Listening to elders?!

One hot day some weeks later, several prominent talmidei chachamim visited the inn in order to rest from their journey. Overhearing their learned discussion the young fellow plunged into the thick of it, bestowing his opinions right and left. He may well have been a scholar, but in the profundity of their erudition he was well out of his depth.

One of the venerable company chuckled and observed: “A young man should learn to listen to what his elders have to say, and to regard Torah scholars with respect.”

The opinionated young man not only took offense at these sharp words: his heart simmered with resentment against Torah scholars in general, for most of them neglected to show him the respect he felt was his due.

Soon after, the bishop of Vitebsk and his ecclesiastical entourage paid a pastoral visit to those parts in order to dedicate a newly-built church in a neighboring village. The ceremony had been postponed till the end of summer, when the local peasants had been busy in the fields. When it was over the bishop and his senior colleagues called on the nearby townships, until they reached the village where this young man lived. They visited the inn and conversed with him at length, and from that time on the villagers from all around showed him ever-increasing respect — which in turn buttressed his ever-increasing conceit.

19. Desperate alarm

After Sukkos he suddenly left his home for a few weeks, returned as if in a daze, and after several days disappeared again. One day, just before Shabbos, his family received a letter: he was lodging in private quarters amidst the pomp of the episcopal court, where honors were being heaped upon him from all sides. Moreover, the bishop himself had assured him that if he would join him he would make a great dignitary of him.

The young man’s wife and her mother did not know what to make of this strange letter, until her son came home for his Chanukah vacation. He read it through, and cried out at the top of his voice: “Velvel’s living in the bishop’s mansion! He wants to apostatize!”

There was weeping and wailing on all sides. Immediately after Havdalah, oblivious to the biting cold and the deep snow, they set out [for Liozna], where they burst into the beis midrash of the [Alter] Rebbe and shrieked their desperate plaint: “Rebbe, help us! Velvel’s with the bishop! He wants to apostatize!” The sight of the sobbing widow and her hysterical daughter sent a shudder of alarm through all those who were in the beis midrash.

20. “I cannot help you…”

As for the Rebbe, he only said: “I cannot help you. All I can do is tell you of an episode involving the [Maggid] that took place during my stay in Mezritch.

“It was in the winter of 5529 (1769). A Jewish family had settled in a gentile village nearby, and one of their sons, quite a devout young scholar, was overcome by a spirit of folly, and took it into his head to be baptized — not out of principle, but out of conceit. After he had spoken to the local priest his father ran off to try to reason with him, but in vain. Hurrying to Mezritch, he cried out: ‘Rebbe! Rescue my son from baptism!’

“The [Maggid] listened to the whole story of the broken-hearted father, and after some moments of rapturous concentration began to expound the verse, Nefesh ki sechta… — ‘If a person should sin, and commit a trespass against G‑d’ ”45— and at this point the [Alter] Rebbe repeated that entire discourse as he had heard it from the mouth of his Rebbe, the Maggid of Mezritch.

He then resumed his account of the incident: “When the [Maggid] had completed his exposition, he instructed ten of his disciples to remain awake all night and to recite Tehillim without a break until dawn. I was one of that minyan. At midday the young man in question came to the beis midrash of the [Maggid]. None of the disciples asked him what had happened. He stayed in Mezritch for a few days, spoke to the Rebbe privately, and returned to his home.”

The [Alter] Rebbe had completed his story. He read the Grace after Meals and retired to his study.

21. An unknown visitor for Tehillim

As soon as he had left the room his disciples chose a minyan from amongst themselves who were to spend the night praying from the Book of Tehillim. At daybreak the widow and her children left for home, and soon after a young man appeared in the beis midrash with a knapsack over his shoulders. Seeing that everyone there was intently reciting Tehillim he sat down too, and with bitter tears joined them in their supplications. The disciples well knew who this young man must be, but no man breathed a query.

Every evening throughout that week of Chanukah, a couple of hours after lighting the candles, the [Alter] Rebbe delivered a discourse, which was repeated and reviewed by the chassidim and the students of the chadarim until they had mastered it word for word. The young man spent the whole of that week in Liozna, and the following week, after speaking privately with the Rebbe at yechidus, returned to his home. Within a few weeks he had moved with his whole family to another township, arranged a fitting match for his sister-in-law with a fine young student at the yeshivah of Vitebsk, and in due course became a chassid worthy of the name.

22. Return to your task

To be sure, the [Alter] Rebbe was gratified to hear the reports of the visitors to Liozna46 on the state of Chassidus and of the chassidim in the above-mentioned towns. Nevertheless, when the time came for R. Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk to make practical preparations for his voyage to Eretz Yisrael, there was born within him a desire to accompany him there. In point of fact, a number of circumstances combined to prevent him from leaving at once, so his departure was deferred until after Pesach, as is recounted elsewhere at length.47

While in Mohilev,48 R. Menachem Mendel asked the [Alter] Rebbe to return to his home, reminding him of what the Maggid had said about him. And when R. Menachem Mendel and R. Avraham came to know the students of the chadarim who had come with the [Alter] Rebbe, they were deeply impressed. R. Menachem Mendel told the [Alter] Rebbe that he dare not forsake his region: he must return in order to fulfill the last testament of the [Maggid] — to disseminate and entrench the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov in Lithuania.