One province there was to which the Besht could not penetrate, at least
not without a long siege and great losses. In Lithuania the inroads of
Hasidism were strenuously opposed, and its advance disputed step by
step. The Lithuanian Jews, to whom the Talmud was as dear as ever, could
not countenance a movement sprung, as they believed, from the seed sown
by Shabbataï Zebi, an opponent of the Talmud, and by Jacob Frank, at
whose instigation the Bishop of Kamenetz ordered the Talmud to be
publicly burnt.[13]

The opponents (Mitnaggedim) of Hasidism were headed by a leader who was
as typical an exponent of the cause he espoused as the Besht was of his.
Among the students of Jewish literature since the close of the Talmud,
few have surpassed, or even equalled, Elijah of Vilna (1720-1797). Not
inappropriately he was called Gaon and Hasid, for in mental and moral
attainments he was unique in his generation. As the Besht was noted in
his early life for dulness and indifference, so Elijah was remarkable
for diligence and versatility. His life, like the Besht's, became the
nucleus of many wonderful tales, which his biographer narrates with
painstaking exactness. They present the picture of a man diametrically
different from Israel Baal Shem Tob. Every year, we are told, added to
the marvellous development of the young intellectual giant. When he was
six years old, none but Rabbi Moses Margolioth, the renowned Talmudist
and author, was competent enough to teach him. At seven, he worsted the
chief rabbi of his native city in a Talmudic discussion. At nine, there
was nothing in Jewish literature with which he was not familiar, and he
turned to other studies to satisfy his craving for knowledge. And at
thirteen, he was acknowledged by his fellows as the greatest of
Talmudists.[14] He had neither guide nor teacher. All unaided he
discovered the path of truth. He held neither a rabbinical nor any other