The Project Gutenberg eBook, History of the Jews, Vol. VI (of 6), by Heinrich Graetz

HISTORY OF THE JEWS

HISTORY OF THE
JEWS

BY
HEINRICH GRAETZ

VOL. VI

Containing a Memoir of the Author by Dr. Philip Bloch
A Chronological Table of Jewish History
An Index to the Whole Work

PHILADELPHIA

The Jewish Publication Society of America
5717—1956

Copyright, 1898, by

THE JEWISH PUBLICATION SOCIETY OF AMERICA

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher: except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

PREFACE TO THE INDEX VOLUME.

With the Index Volume, the Jewish Publication Society of America brings to a close the American edition of the “History of the Jews” by Professor H. Graetz. A glance at the title-page and the table of contents will show, that the celebrated historian cannot be held directly responsible for anything this volume contains. The History proper, as abridged under the direction of the author and translated into English from the eleven volume German edition, is complete in five volumes. In compiling this additional volume, the Publication Committee was prompted by the desire to render the work readily available for pedagogical purposes. To be of value to the general reader as well as to the scholar, a work containing upwards of three thousand pages needs to be equipped with indexes, tables, and helps of various kinds.

The importance of indexes can hardly be over-estimated. The English jurist and writer who considered them so essential that he “proposed to bring a Bill into Parliament to deprive an author who publishes a book without an Index of the privilege of copyright” was not too emphatic. In books of facts, such as histories, indexes are indispensable. This has been fully recognized in the Society’s edition of Graetz’s “History of the Jews.” Each of the five volumes, as it appeared, was furnished with an adequate index. Yet there are two reasons justifying and even requiring the compilation of a general index to the whole work. The first is the reader’s convenience. All who use books to any extent know the annoyance of taking volume after volume from the shelf to find the desired information only in the last. In fact, the separate indexes were compiled only because circumstances compelled the publication of the single volumes at rather long intervals. The other consideration is that Professor Graetz is the historiographer par excellence of the Jews. His work, at present the authority upon the subject of Jewish history, bids fair to hold its pre-eminent position for some time, perhaps decades. A comprehensive index to his work is, therefore, at the same time an index to the facts of Jewish history approximately as accepted by contemporary scholars--a sufficient reason for its existence.

To make it a worthy guide to Jewish history in general, the index necessarily had to be more than a mere compilation of the five separate indexes. In the matter of the names of persons and places, accordingly, the general index excels the others in the fullness and completeness of the references. But its chief title to superiority over them lies in its character as an Index of Subjects, illustrated by such captions as Blood Accusation; Conversions, forced; Coins; Emancipation of the Jews; Bulls, Papal; Apostasy and Apostates; Messiah and Messianic; Bible under the headings Law, Old Testament, Pentateuch, Scriptures, Septuagint, Translations, and Vulgate; Education under the headings, Colleges, Rabbinical and Talmudical, Law, Schools, Talmud, and Talmud Torah. These summaries will be suggestive, it is hoped, to the teacher of Jewish history and to the student with sufficient devotion to the subject to pursue it topically and pragmatically as well as in its chronologic sequence. As an illustration of what use may be made of it, the compiler has prefixed to the index a guide to the study of Jewish history by means of the biographies of its great men, an apostolical succession, as it were. Under the class-names there given, the names of all persons of each class will be found grouped in the index. Again, if it is desirable to trace out a topic, as, for instance, the development of Hebrew grammar, or the cultivation of medicine among Jews, etc., the index is helpful by means of its lists of names of grammarians, physicians, astronomers, historians, poets, etc., under these and similar heads.

To facilitate its use, the student is urged to read the directions preceding the index. Great difficulties attach to the systematic arrangement of the names of persons connected with ancient and mediæval history of all kinds. In Jewish history, even down to recent times, these difficulties are largely increased by the comparatively late introduction among Jews of family names in the accepted modern sense, and by their introduction among Spanish Jews earlier than among the others. The scheme adopted by Zedner, in his British Museum catalogue, has been followed as far as the peculiarities of our author and his subject, and its presentation in a modern language, permitted it. The arrangement is not ideal, but every effort has been made to minimize the difficulties.

In this preface, precedence has been given to the index, because, in spite of the consensus of opinions among connoisseurs, the importance of indexes and their usefulness are in some quarters still held to stand in need of vindication. In the book, however, the first place is occupied by a contribution whose value will be disputed by none, namely, the Memoir of the author, the greatest historian of the Jews. The Committee believes, not only that the public has a taste for biographical studies, but that in this instance it will be pleased with the choice of biographer, Dr. Philipp Bloch, rabbi of Posen, a disciple of Graetz and for more than a quarter of a century his intimate friend. Although not quite seven years have elapsed since Graetz passed away, and many that were closely associated with him are still among the living, it was not easy to find the man qualified for the task of writing his biography. Graetz was not inclined to be communicative about his early life or his emotional experiences. He had met with disappointments that emphasized the reticence of his nature. The venerable wife of the deceased historian was kind enough to put all her husband’s literary remains at the disposal of the biographer, who herewith acknowledges his deep obligation to her for the help thus afforded his work. The greater part of material of this kind, especially in the form of letters, Graetz burnt before his last change of residence. But his interesting diary was spared. It was kept with more or less regularity from 1832 to 1854, though for the latter part of this period it is hardly more than a bald summary of events, and the disappearance of loose leaves curtails the information that might have been gathered from it. The biographer’s thanks are due also to the Board of Curators of the Fränkel Bequests for kindly putting at his service the documents in their archives bearing on Graetz’s connection with the Breslau Jewish Theological Seminary, thus enabling him to verify facts long in his possession. Dr. Bloch furthermore availed himself of Dr. B. Rippner’s interesting brochure, “Zum siebzigsten Geburtstage des Professors Dr. Heinrich Graetz,” and of Professor Dr. David Kaufmann’s eloquent eulogy of his teacher, “H. Graetz, der Historiograph des Judenthums.” The Committee believes, that in securing the co-operation of Dr. Bloch it has been the instrument of eliciting an important original contribution to Jewish biographical literature.

The Chronological Table is another feature of the volume to which attention must be called. In the eighth volume of the German edition of the “History,” Professor Graetz introduced a similar table, reciting the succession of events from the Maccabæan struggle to the Expulsion of the Jews from Spain and Portugal. The present analysis includes the whole of Jewish history up to the year 1873 of this era. It assumes to be nothing more than a summary of the “History of the Jews” by Graetz. As no attempt has been made to indicate whether his conclusions are endorsed by the scholars of our day, it becomes a duty to refer to the vexed question of Biblical chronology. Since the time of Archbishop Ussher (1580–1656)--not to mention the Talmudic Seder Olam Rabba--it has been the subject of dispute, which is complicated by the various eras, the Seleucidæan, the Roman, and the Era of the World, in use among the Jews at different times. Even now the most diversified opinions are held by scholars, and no system has met with general acceptance. Graetz discusses the matter exhaustively in Note 19 of Vol. I of the German original of his “History.” His researches led him to oppose the results of the historians Niebuhr, Ewald, and Movers, and of the Assyriologists Brandes, Smith, and Schrader. He inclines to the views of Oppert, who applied the information derived from the Assyrian inscriptions to the vindication of the Biblical chronology nearly as determined by Ussher. Since Graetz wrote his note (1873), almost amounting to a treatise, evidence for the one or the other opinion has been strengthened or invalidated by the more minute and extended study of the monuments, inscriptions, and other records of Egypt, Babylonia, and Assyria. The reader interested in the subject is referred to the works of such scholars as Duncker, Oppert, Kamphausen, and Eduard Meyer.

Finally, it is hoped, that the four maps accompanying the Index Volume will meet with favor and frequent use. They have been inserted in a pocket and not bound with the book, so that they may be removed readily for reference in connection with any volume the student may be reading. The two maps of Palestine and that of the Semitic World are reproduced, with modifications, from Professor George Adam Smith’s forthcoming Bible Atlas. The one of the Jewish-Mahometan World was made for the Society by Mr. J. G. Bartholomew of the Edinburgh Geographical Institute, the cartographer who drew the other three maps. The maps of the Jewish-Mahometan World and the Semitic World are general reference maps; the two of Palestine represent the political divisions of the land, the one at the time of the Judges, the other at the time of Herod the Great.

The Committee expresses the hope that this sixth volume, an epitome of Jewish history, may “manifest its treasures,” “facilitate the knowledge of those who seek it, and invite them to make application thereof.”

March, 1898.

CONTENTS.

HISTORY OF THE JEWS.

MEMOIR OF HEINRICH GRAETZ.

I.
YOUTH.

The disruption and final partition of the Polish kingdom by its three neighboring states occurred in 1795. With its dissolution a new era began in the history of the numerous Jewish communities in that part of the Polish territory which passed under Prussian and Austrian sovereignty. The event that thus ushered them into the world of Western civilization may justly be considered as marking for them the transition from the middle ages to modern times. Prussia allowed no interval to elapse between the act of taking possession of her newly acquired domain and its organization. It was incorporated into the state as the provinces of South Prussia and New East Prussia. But after 1815 the Prussian crown remained in possession only of the Grand Duchy, or the Province, of Posen, the district that had constituted the kernel of Great Poland. This piece of land was of extreme importance to the Jews, being the home of the most numerous, the oldest, and the most respectable congregations. It was situated at only a short distance from the Prussian capital, to which it appeared to have been brought still nearer by the organic connection established with the older parts of the state. It was natural to expect that, in consequence of the political union, the economic relations with Berlin, always close, would become more intimate and more numerous, and would develop new business advantages. On the other hand, the capital was viewed with distrust as the home of the movement radiating from Mendelssohn and his school, which aimed at something beyond the one-sided Talmud study then prevalent, and strove to bring modern methods of education and modern science within reach of the younger generation.

The rigorous system of organization by which the Polish districts were placed upon a Prussian basis induced so radical a transformation of all the relations of life that the Jews experienced great difficulty in adjusting themselves to the new order of things. Opposition to the state authorities and the economic conditions was futile; there was nothing for it but to try to adapt oneself without ado. By way of compensation, the efforts to keep religious practices and traditional customs pure, untouched by alien and suspicious influences, in the grooves worn by ancient habit, were all the more strenuous. Talmudic literature was to continue to be the center and aim of all study and science, and religious forms, or habits regarded as religious forms, were not to lose an iota of their rigidity and predominance. The urgent charge of the Prussian government to provide properly equipped schools to instruct and educate the young in a manner in keeping with the spirit of the times was evaded, now by subterfuges, now by promises. But in the long run the influences of the age could not fail to make themselves felt. Sparks from the hearth of the emancipation movement were carried into the Province, and burst into flame in one of the great congregations, that of the city of Posen, particularly proud and jealous of the Talmudic renown and the hoary piety of its Ghetto.

The position of rabbi in Posen had become vacant, and in 1802 it was proposed to fill it with Samuel ben Moses Pinchas from distant Tarnopol, the brother of the deceased rabbi. He was the author of בית שמואל אחרון {Hebrew: Beyt Shmuel Acharon}, and an arch-Talmudist of the old stamp. Under the shelter of assumed names, a number of the younger men ventured to send the government a protest against the choice of an “uncouth Polack.” It was alleged that the mass of the people favored him on account of

“the Kabbalistic fable which constructs a genealogy for this Podolian that makes it appear that he belongs to the stock from which the Jewish Messiah is to spring, etc.”

The government took the petition into consideration, and so informed the signers. On account of the fictitious names the answer went astray. Instead of reaching the petitioners, it fell into the hands of the directors of the congregation and into those of the deputy rabbis, the B’ne Yeshiba.

“They immediately assembled all so-called scholars and Talmud disciples after the manner of the ancient Synhedrin, and invited the parents, parents-in-law, and relatives of all persons suspected of harboring heterodox ideas. Then they summoned each of us singly, put him into the center of a terrifying circle of rough students, and upbraided him in the following words, accompanied by the most awful curses: ‘Thou devilish soul that hast vowed thyself unto Satan! Thy appearance gives evidence of thy antipathy to our statutes; thy shaved beard, thy apparel (thy Jewish garb is only a sham), everything proves thee, thou impious one, a betrayer of Jewish mysteries to Christians. Thou readest German books. Instead of holy Talmud folios, thou keepest maps, journals, and other heathenish writings concealed in thy attic. Therefore, confess thy sin, that thou art one of the authors of the accursed memorial! Do penance as we shall direct. Deliver up to us thy unclean books immediately. Subscribe without delay to this sacred election of our rabbi; else, etc., etc.’”1

The hotly contested election of the rigidly Talmudic yet none the less gentle rabbi was carried, but no effort availed to check the spread of the new spirit. Steadily though slowly modern views gained the upper hand, and in 1816 a Jewish private school of somewhat advanced standing was successfully established in Posen. Now and again men of independent fortune mustered up courage to send their children to the Gymnasium or to the higher Christian schools, of which, to be sure, not a large number existed at the time. In 1824 the state interfered, and ordered the establishment of German elementary schools in all the Jewish communities of the Province giving evidence of vitality. The situation now assumed a peculiar aspect. General culture, acquaintance with the classic literature of Germany, France, and England, came to be esteemed an accomplishment and a personal charm; yet beyond the three R’s the rising generation was not given the opportunity of acquiring a general education. On the contrary, the desire was to limit study to that of rabbinic and Hebrew writings. In the larger communities, like Posen and Lissa, the centers of Talmud study, a conscious effort was made to frighten off young people, especially Talmud disciples, from the acquisition of secular culture. It should be mentioned, however, that in many of the smaller communities the longing for education was encouraged as much as possible. So it came about that the highly endowed, ambitious spirits of that generation in the Province had to struggle most bitterly and painfully to make headway. But their hardships were counterbalanced by the advantages they derived from the conflict. Their intellectual energy and self-reliance came forth from the contest steeled. Impregnated as almost all of them were with the spirit of the Talmud, they had pierced to its essence, and, filled with enthusiasm for the rabbinical heroes, they had breathed in devotion to the ideals of Judaism.

This was the soil upon which Heinrich Graetz grew up, and such were the conditions and agencies moulding the development of a man destined to create an historical work, at once monumental and popular; embracing thousands of years, the most widely separated regions, and the most diversified fields of human activity; retracing with all the resources of learning and ingenuity the magic, faded, illegible characters of the evolution of Judaism, and illuminating them with colors of fairy-like brilliance;--an historical work, which, by reason of the warmth of its narrative style, has come to be a book of edification, in the best sense of the word, unto the author’s brethren-in-faith.

Heinrich Hirsch Graetz was born October 31 (Cheshwan 21), 1817, in Xions (pronounced Kshons), a wretched little village of 775 inhabitants in the eastern part of the Province of Posen. In a family of two brothers and one sister he was the first-born. His father, Jacob Graetz, was a man of tall stature, who, dying in 1876, reached an age of over ninety years. His mother, Vogel, of the family of Hirsch of Wollstein, was of average height and robust physique, with lustrous gray eyes. She died in 1848 only fifty odd years old. To her the son showed most resemblance, both spiritually and physically. A little butcher-shop yielded them an honest but paltry livelihood. In the hope of improving their material condition, the family removed to Zerkow, a few miles off, some years after Heinrich’s birth. At the time the village contained not more than 800 inhabitants, among them a single person able to read, a real estate owner, to whom all letters were carried to be deciphered on the open street in solemn public assembly.2 But the Jewish congregation consisted of one hundred members, and a remarkable increase in the population of the little town seemed to give fair promise of a prosperous future. It is worthy of mention, besides, that the scenery of Zerkow, wreathed round with hill and stream, forest and meadow, is not so flat and unattractive as that of most parts of the Province.

Here the boy received his first impressions, and here he enjoyed his first instruction in a school distinguishable from a genuine Cheder only inasmuch as it began in a measure to accommodate itself to the modest demands made by the government upon a Jewish primary school. He was taught reading, writing, ciphering, and the translation of the Bible. Great love of study and marked talent became apparent in him; he was therefore introduced to a knowledge of Hebrew and the Talmud. When he was confirmed at thirteen, the age at which the boys of that period were in the habit of deciding definitely on their careers, his parents did not for a moment question the propriety of continuing their son’s intellectual training. It would have been most natural to send him to Posen, where a popular Talmud school was flourishing under the direction of the highly esteemed Chief Rabbi Akiba Eger. But his parents’ means were too slender to suffice for his maintenance, and shyness and pride prevented young Graetz from making his way after the fashion of beggar students. There was but one course, to send him to Wollstein, where his mother had sisters and other relatives. Though by no means possessed of great wealth, they were willing to give him assistance. The Wollstein sojourn proved eminently favorable to his development. The town, situated in the western part of the Province, was not destitute of natural charms, to which the boy’s impressionable mind eagerly responded. The population, chiefly German, numbered 2258 persons, among them 841 Jews,3 by no means an inconsiderable congregation. Besides, it was in fairly comfortable circumstances. It had always taken pride in maintaining a Talmud school, which, at the time of Graetz’s advent, was distinguished for the liberal, enlightened spirit pervading it and the active encouragement accorded its students in their desire for culture. Rumor had it that the rabbi, Samuel Samwel Munk, who had been called from Bojanowo to Wollstein at the beginning of the century, knew how to read and write German, and was in the habit of reading German books and even journals in the hours that are “neither day nor night.” At all events, he did not put obstacles in their way, when his disciples, spurring each other on in the impetuous rivalry of youth for pre-eminence, sought to slake their thirst for secular knowledge.

Graetz arrived in Wollstein at the end of the summer of 1831, fourteen years old. At that youthful age, the Bachur had ventured to undertake, in a Hebrew far from perfect, it must be confessed, a work on the calendar entitled, “חשבון העתים {Hebrew: Cheshbon Ha’itim}, Jewish and German Chronology.”4 He was a zealous attendant upon the rabbi’s Talmudic lectures, and derived great profit from them. His teacher conceived a lively and kind interest in him, as well as a high opinion of his ability, though he did not suspect his future eminence. Rabbinic studies did not occupy his mind to the exclusion of other pursuits. Inextinguishable thirst for knowledge had taken possession of him, and all books that fell in his way were read with avidity. Most of the available literature consisted of romances of chivalry, of the kind in vogue at that time. Among them “Raspo of Felseneck,” now completely forgotten, made a particularly deep impression upon him. Reproved by one of his patrons, and provided with more suitable books by him, he read with keen enjoyment Campe’s narrative and moral writings. At the same time historical books began to attract him strongly. Though he had to confess to himself, somewhat crestfallen, that he did not understand the greater part of what he read in them, he studied Bredow’s short compendium of universal history, Becker’s large work on the same subject, and a biography of Napoleon. He soon realized the necessity of acquiring Latin and French. Without teacher, without guidance, without counsel other than that afforded by like-minded companions, he devoted himself to Meidinger’s French grammar and later to Bröder’s Latin grammar, until he had gotten all between their covers by heart. He was overjoyed when he could begin to read the classic writers of foreign countries in their own languages. In his zeal, he permitted himself to be governed by chance. Whatever fortune played into his hands, he grasped at with instantaneous ardor, and pursued with sporadic industry. He picks up a translation of Euclid, for instance. At once he devotes himself to it heart and soul, difficult though he finds it to gain a clear notion of geometric concepts and methods. An itinerant rabbi from Poland, offering his own commentary upon the Book of Job for sale, comes to Wollstein, and meets with appreciation and respect. Reason enough for the enthusiastic and ambitious Talmud disciple to take interest in nothing but Bible exegesis and Hebrew grammar for months thereafter. Keen, discriminating love of nature, to whose attractions he remained susceptible until his last days, develops in him. He spares no effort to acquaint himself with the flora of his native province and with the mysteries of the starry heavens. Success was a foregone conclusion with one whose equipment consisted of miraculously quick comprehension, a retentive memory, and industry oblivious of all but its object; coupled with an iron constitution and indestructible working powers, not in the least impaired by lack of food and sleep.

Despite his modest demands, he constantly had to battle against want and distress. His nature was proud, self-reliant, and, it must be admitted, unpractical. An exaggerated sense of honor forbade his seeking help even when a petition would have been justified. He preferred to conceal his troubles. For example, he ate dry bread on many a Sabbath, a day on which it was considered a privilege to entertain Talmud disciples. Regardless of wind and weather, he would slip off into the country, a book in his pocket, in order not to reveal his helpless condition. Finally, in spite of his secretiveness, some friend or other discovered his plight, and found ways and means of relieving his distress. Of sanguine temperament, he sought and found consolation in books. Graetz managed to read and study an amazing quantity in the four years and a half of his Wollstein sojourn. His most determined efforts were applied to the acquisition of the French language and literature, his favorite studies, at that time ranking high in the scale of accomplishments. The more important works of Fénelon, Voltaire, Rousseau, and others, and the dramas of Racine and Victor Hugo he knew thoroughly. He had read Lessing, Mendelssohn, Schiller, and other classic writers of Germany, and was attracted particularly to Wieland, to whose works he devoted earnest attention. It is curious that the diary which he then kept does not contain a single reference to Goethe, as if by chance or for some reason he had remained in ignorance of the great poet’s works. On the other hand, he became acquainted towards the end of the Wollstein period with the writings of Börne, Heine, and Saphir, which vivified the proneness to irony and satire dormant in him. The Latin authors gave him most trouble. Yet he mastered Cornelius Nepos, Curtius, and several books of Ovid’s Metamorphoses and of Virgil’s Æneid. That he accomplished extensive reading of rabbinic literature at the same time, and did not neglect his Talmudic studies, is attested by the distinction with which Rabbi Munk honored Graetz, much to his surprise. At New Year 5595 (October, 1834), he was invested with the title Chaber, a degree conferred only upon most worthy and most rarely endowed Talmud disciples of his youthful age.

But now fermentation set in, and white flakes began to rise to the surface of the young wine. Wholly self-taught, he had devoted himself to reading without plan or method, following blind chance or humoring his whims. In this way he had laid up a store of knowledge, promiscuous as well as rich. A chaotic mixture of irreconcilable, disparate ideas and opinions surged through his head, and excited tumultuous commotion in his world of thought and feeling. In November, 1835, the following entry was written in his diary:

“By the various contradictory ideas that perplexed my brain--heathen, Jewish, and Christian, Epicurean, Kabbalistic, Maimonidian, and Platonic--my faith was made so insecure that, when a notion concerning God, eternity, time, or the like, assailed me, I wished myself into the abyss of the nether world.”

Although his humor and his opinions were somewhat unsettled, he by no means had drifted from his moorings. The existence of God and the immortality of the soul were the fixed poles of his emotional world to which he clung. Another entry a little further on in his diary says:

“Like furies such thoughts tugged at my heart-strings, when, as often happened, they arose, suggested by my poverty as well as by certain classes of books. Only the clear, star-studded sky, upon which my eyes were wont to rest with delight on Saturday evenings after sundown, renewed the blessed comforting consciousness in me: Yes, there is a God beyond the starry canopy!”

On the other hand, he began to chafe against the daily religious practices of Judaism, which he had always observed with scrupulous conscientiousness, as he had been taught to do. Even then he did not neglect them, but he was offended by the multiplicity of ceremonies and still more by the petty, poor-spirited, unæsthetic manner in which the people among whom he lived observed them. They no longer were religious observances; they were habits. Attributing the responsibility for these conditions to the Talmud, he bore it ill-will. His repugnance grew whenever he contrasted its style and method with those of the great works of literature with which he had recently become conversant. Comparisons of this kind did not serve to enhance the credit of the rabbinic collection with him. There was another cause for irritation. Up to that time he had lived, or rather studied, heedless of practical concerns. Now his parents and relatives were probably beginning to urge upon him the necessity of considering the choice of a vocation or of turning to professional studies. So just a demand he could not disregard, especially in the sensitive state of mind in which he then found himself. Often he brooded over the question, “What next?” and elaborated the most bizarre plans only to reject them. A seemingly slight incident occurred which quelled the commotion in his breast. His craft, helplessly driving among perilous crags, was guided into smooth waters by a little book appearing just then under the title, “אגרת צפון {Hebrew: Igeret Tzafon}, Nineteen Letters on Judaism, published by Ben Usiel.”5

The partisans of the reform movement, who proposed to remodel or set aside religious customs and traditional observances of historical Judaism as incompatible with modern life, had up to that time maintained the upper hand in the literary discussion of religious affairs. They were exerting constantly increasing attraction upon the younger generation, and were growing bolder and more impetuous in their propaganda for the obliteration, as far as possible, of religious peculiarities. Bent upon the preservation of old faith and custom unimpaired, their opponents had at first refused to make any concession whatsoever to the modern demands, and had even failed to provide themselves with new weapons of defense. When the movement assumed threatening dimensions, the conservatives faced it unprepared and impotent. Bewildered strangers in the great world, habituated to the social forms of the Ghetto, enmeshed in the web of Talmudic ideas, they were wholly unable to put up an efficient leader or regenerator. Suddenly that which had long been painfully lacking seemed to incorporate itself in a young theologian. In the above-mentioned anonymous work, “Nineteen Letters,” Samson Raphael Hirsch, rabbi at Oldenburg, championed the undiminished value of all religious usages with skill, eloquence, and intrepidity. His manner held out the hope that he would breathe a new spirit into the old forms. The boldness of the work in frankly presenting this point of view with all the consequences springing therefrom produced the effect of a sensational occurrence upon the Jewish public. Into the mind of Graetz, casting about for an anchor for his disturbed feelings, it fell like a flash of lightning, revealing the path to be followed in the search for his ideals. He reports:

“Often I spoke of it [religious doubt] to B. B., the only one to whom I could tell my thoughts on such subjects. Then he would allege the urgent necessity for reforms in view of the gradual decay of religion. But I realized, that reform, that is, the omission of a number of laws organically interwoven with the rest, would abrogate the whole Law. How delighted I therefore was with a new book, ‘אגרת צפון {Hebrew: Igeret Tzafon}, Nineteen Letters on Judaism, anonymous,’ in which a view of Judaism I had never before heard or suspected was defended with convincing arguments. Judaism was represented as the best religion and as indispensable to the salvation of mankind. With avidity I devoured every word. Disloyal though I had been to the Talmud, this book reconciled me with it. I returned to it as to a mistress deemed faithless and proved true, and determined to use my utmost effort to pierce to its depths, acquire a philosophical knowledge thereof, and, as many would have me believe that I might become a so-called ‘rabbi-doctor of theology’ (studirter Rabbiner), publicly demonstrate its truth and utility. I set about my task at once, beginning with the first folio ברכות {Hebrew: Berachot} and the first Book of Moses. I dwelt upon every point with pleasure, treating them not as remnants of antiquity, but as books containing divine help for mankind. My endeavor was materially advanced by the knowledge I had acquired here, among other things of theology, which only now I learned to esteem as a branch of science; of geometry--I had studied nearly the whole of the first three books of Euclid; and of history.”

After that he could not content himself with life in Wollstein; the place had nothing more to offer him. The resolution to quit the town, which had grown into his heart as his second home, was facilitated by the removal of an uncle, depriving him of his strongest support; by the usual disappointment and revulsion of feeling following the usual extravagance of a youthful, fantastic love-affair; and by conflicts with companions and patrons, caused to some extent doubtless by the disharmonious state of his mind and aggravated by tittle-tattle. But whither was he to turn to satisfy the yearnings of his soul? He decided on Prague, the Mecca of the young Jewish theologians of the day, “a city most famous for learning, hospitality, and other virtues.”

II.
THE APPRENTICE.

Graetz left Wollstein in April, 1836, and went to Zerkow to acquaint his parents with his intentions and consult with them. Letters of recommendation to families in Prague were obtained, and his parents and other relatives made up a small purse for him. Graetz secured a passport, packed his modest belongings in a handbag, and set out on his journey in high spirits. Partly afoot, partly by stage when the fare was not forbidding, he made his way to Breslau, and thence through the Silesian mountains to the Austrian boundary, which he reached not far from Reinerz. Here, though he was fortified with a passport, the frontier inspector, like a cherub with a flaming sword, opposed his entrance into Austria. He was unable to produce ten florins ($5) cash, the possession of which had to be demonstrated by the traveler who would gain admission to the land of the double eagle, unless he came as a passenger in the mail-coach. Dismayed our young wanderer resorted to parleying, and appealed to his letters of recommendation. In vain; the official would hear of no compromise. Too proud and inflexible to have recourse to entreaty or trickery, Graetz grimly faced about, and much disheartened journeyed as he had come, over the same road, back to Zerkow. His parents were not a little astonished at his return, and equally rejoiced to have their son with them for some time longer. The adventure may be taken as typical of the curious mishaps that befell him in practical life, particularly at the beginning of his career. They often cut him to the quick, but never shook his belief in his lucky star. His originative and impressionable nature carried with it the power of discerning important points of view and valid aims, but he seems to have been too far-sighted and impetuous to lay due stress upon the means and levers necessary for the attainment of ends.

For the moment he sought to drown remembrance of his abortive journey in study. He became absorbed in Latin works; he read Livy, Cicero’s de natura deorum, which compelled his reverential admiration, Virgil’s Æneid, and the comedies of Terence. Besides, he busied himself with Schrökh’s universal history and with his Wieland, whose “Sympathies,” “Golden Mirror,” and other works “delighted, refreshed, and fascinated” him “inexpressibly.” The Talmud and Hebrew studies claimed no less attention; he was especially zealous about the exegesis of the Earlier Prophets. Downcast by reason of the uncertainty of his future, and his scorn piqued by the pettiness and narrow-mindedness of his provincial surroundings, he found an outlet for his restlessness in all sorts of wanton pranks, such as high-spirited youths are apt to perpetrate in their “storm and stress” period. He ridiculed the rabbi, played tricks on the directors of the congregation, annoyed the burgomaster, always escaping unpunished, and even horrified his parents by accesses of latitudinarianism, such as the following. On the day before the eve of the Atonement Day, it is a well-known custom for men to swing a living rooster and for women to swing a living hen several times about their heads. At the same time a short prayer is recited, pleading that the punishment due for the sins committed by the petitioner be transferred to the devoted fowl. At the approach of the holy season, Graetz announced that he would certainly not comply with the Kapores custom, but his words were taken to be idle boastfulness. The fateful evening came, and the seriocomic celebration was long delayed by the non-appearance of the eldest son. The father’s wrath was kindled, and he threatened to burn all books other than Hebrew found in the possession of his heretic offspring. The mother set out to search everywhere for her erring son. When she finally found him, he went home with her in affectionate obedience, but nothing could induce him to manipulate the rooster in the customary way. Unswung and uncursed the bird had to be carried to the butcher, and only on the following day a touching reconciliation was effected.

After the Fast, a bookdealer at Wollstein, a friend of his, who usually kept him informed about new books on Jewish subjects, sent Graetz the “Nineteen Letters by Ben Usiel,” which he had longed to possess. The book again electrified him, and he conceived the idea of offering himself as a disciple to its author, whose identity had meantime been revealed. Samson Raphael Hirsch appeared to him to be the ideal of a Jewish theologian of the time and of the confidence-inspiring teacher for whom he had yearned, to obtain from him guidance and, if possible, a solution of the manifold problems occupying his mind. Accordingly, Graetz wrote to the District Rabbi (Landesrabbiner) of Oldenburg. He did not conceal his views, but clearly and frankly laid bare the state of his feelings and the course of his intellectual development. He was successful. After a short time, Hirsch addressed the following letter to him:

“My dear young Friend:--With pleasure I am ready to fulfill, as far as in me lies, the wish expressed in your letter to me. You know the sentence of our sages, יותר משעגל רוצה לינק הפרה רוצה להניק {Hebrew: Yoter mishe’egel rotzeh linak, haparah rotzah l’hanik},6 and if, as I should gladly infer from your letter, the views therein expressed are more than an evanescent mood; if it is your resolute determination to study Torah for its own sake, you are most cordially welcome, and I shall expect to see you after פסח הבע''ל {Hebrew: Pesach haba aleynu l’tovah}.7 But I have one request to make. In the ardor of your feelings, you have conceived an ideal picture of the author of the ‘Letters’ by far exceeding the real man in size. Reduce the picture by half, by three-fourths, indeed, and ask yourself whether you are still attracted by it. Do not expect to find an accomplished master, but a student occupied with research. If your heart still says yes, then come. I should like to be informed as soon as possible, whether I may expect you after Pessach, as I shall have to modify another relation accordingly. Be kind enough, too, if you have no objection, to let me know how you expect to support yourself here. I trust that you will neither take umbrage at this question nor misconstrue it. It was put only because I wanted to express my willingness to assist you as much as I can during your stay here, if it should be necessary. Therefore, I beg you to be as frank and unreserved in your answer as I ventured to be in my question. With kindest regards, etc.

Oldenburg, December 26, ’36.”

To this letter Graetz replied, that he did say “yes” from the bottom of his heart; that it was his dearest ambition to devote himself to genuine Judaism and its doctrines; that he especially desired to learn the methods of Talmud study, particularly of the Halakha, pursued by a man whom he admired profoundly; that as for his livelihood, the satisfaction of the most elementary needs sufficed for him; and that his parents would give him a small allowance.

In answer thereto, the formal invitation to come to Oldenburg was extended by Hirsch on February I, 1837. He offered Graetz board and lodging in his own house, with the understanding that his parents would provide for other needs, and he expected his disciple after Passover (in May). Wishing to visit relatives on the way and see the sights of Berlin and Leipsic, Graetz set out as early as the beginning of April. In Berlin the museum and the picture-gallery made a deep impression upon him. That he was a remarkably sharp observer is shown in the following accurate characterization of the preacher Solomon Plessner, with whom he became acquainted in Berlin:

“This famous man I also visited, and I found attractive features indicative of acuteness, but a neglected exterior and careless, ungrammatical speech, not guiltless of the Jewish sing-song (mauscheln). This surprises me, for his language in his sermons is pure and choice. He is between forty and fifty years old, wears a beard, and seems to be honestly and genuinely religious. But his manner is excited; he speaks with rapid utterance, all the while running to and fro and arranging his books absent-mindedly.”

In Leipsic he visited his countryman Fürst, concerning whom he reports:

“A little man whose face was familiar to me from my childhood days came towards me. I handed him the letter given me by his mother. He said indifferently: I shall write in a few days. But when I told him the goal and purpose of my journey, and showed him the letters [from Hirsch], his attitude changed, and he talked with me in a very friendly way. Finally, when he recognized that I was not an ignoramus, he confided several matters to me, told me about his scientific adversaries, and boasted that he had taught Gesenius, that he had become reconciled with Ewald, that the greatest scholars corresponded with him, etc.... Our conversation grew more and more confidential, and finally we parted as friends. He invited me to visit him again, if I changed my mind and staid over פסח {Hebrew: Pesach}.... In case I did not remain, I had to promise that I would enter into correspondence with him.... I was particularly pleased to find, that Fürst has no intention of accepting baptism, and that he means to promote the cause of Judaism.... To work for Judaism, he says, is the prime obligation of every Jew that devotes himself to study, by which he means strictly scientific, possibly also philologic study.”

In order not to fritter away all his time while traveling, Graetz began to study Greek, and the Greek conjugations served to beguile dreary hours, banishing remembrance of the mishaps that could not fail to befall one with straitened means on so long a journey, and counteracting the despondency which in consequence often seized upon him. In a miserable village, in which he was forced to spend a whole day on account of the Sabbath, he found a copy of the New Testament, and read it for the first time. He describes the impression made upon him by this first reading in the following words:

“Despite the many absurdities and inconsistencies, the mildness of the character of Jesus attracted me; at the same time I was repelled, so that I was altogether confused.”

On May 8, finally, he arrived in Oldenburg, where a new world opened before him.

In Samson Raphael Hirsch he met a man whose spiritual elevation and noble character compelled his profound reverence, and who fully realized all the expectations that he had harbored concerning him. Hirsch was a man of modern culture, and his manner was distinguished, even aristocratic, although he kept aloof from all social intercourse. He was short of stature, yet those who came in contact with him were strongly impressed by his external appearance, on account of his grave, dignified demeanor, forbidding familiarity. With great intellectual gifts and rare qualities of the heart, he combined varied theological attainments and an excellent classical education. Comprehensive or deep ideas cannot be said to have been at his disposal, but he scintillated with original observations and suggestive sallies, which put his new pupil into a fever of enthusiasm. He was the only teacher from whom Graetz’s self-centered being received scientific stimulation; perhaps the only man to exercise, so far as the stubborn peculiarity of Graetz’s nature permitted it, permanent influence upon his reserved, independent character.

On his arrival in Oldenburg, the new-comer was most kindly received by Hirsch, and was at once installed in his house, of which thenceforth he was an inmate. Instruction was begun on the very next day. The forenoons were devoted to the Talmud, the late afternoons to the Psalms. The disciple was singularly attracted and stimulated, fairly elevated by the brilliant, penetrating method applied to the exegesis of these works. Plan, order, and coherence were now imposed upon his scientific acquirements. Hirsch took true fatherly interest in his protegé; he exerted himself to discipline his mind and fix his moral and religious standards. At the same time, as though even then a suspicion of the unusual force and talent of this youth panting for knowledge and instruction had dawned upon him, he guarded against assuming the airs of a domineering pedagogue. Despite the difference in age between them he treated him as an equal. He was endowed with truly marvelous power to stir his disciple’s soul-life to its depths. Every chord of Graetz’s being was set in vibration, and he solemnly vowed to remain a true son and an honest adherent of Judaism under all circumstances. Added years may have contributed to the result; but at all events it is certain that Graetz developed visibly under this master’s guidance.

The services required of him in the house of his teacher were mainly those of an assistant. He accompanied the District Rabbi on his tours of inspection, the tedium of their journeys being relieved with discussions on Talmudic and Biblical subjects. He revised with Hirsch the last part of the latter’s “Horeb,” helped him read the proof of the last sheets of the book, which delighted and thrilled the young man, and assisted him in various similar ways. How flattering an opinion the punctilious rabbi must have held of his assistant is proved by the fact, that when he had to go to a resort for the restoration of his undermined health, he authorized him to render decisions on questions of religious law (שאלות {Hebrew: Sh’eylot}) during his absence. The assistant fulfilled his duties so conscientiously that the responsibility oppressed him. He confessed that he had imagined the rendering of correct decisions much easier. His enthusiasm burst into flame when he received the following affectionate letter from Hirsch:

“My dear Graetz:--I still owe you cordial thanks for your kind lines. I am delighted to hear that you are industrious, and that you keep to my time-schedule so well. Continue to study, for I, on my part, shall soon have forgotten how to study, and literally shall have to begin to learn all over again. Before my departure, I wanted to call your attention to something, and I do now what I then forgot. I have frequently seen you read the works of Bayle. They are a treasury of learning, and much information can be derived from them, but the man takes peculiar pleasure in laying stress upon דברי ערוה {Hebrew: Divrei ervah};8 things of that kind are טמא {Hebrew: tamei} and מטמא {Hebrew: M’tamei}9. Pass lightly over such passages; they are unprofitable and harmful; read only what is purely scientific. Follow my advice, etc., etc.”

Such friendly and tactful admonitions, permitting the pupil to follow out his own bent, were always employed by Hirsch, and they but served to enkindle Graetz’s enthusiasm anew. In spite of the young man’s critical propensities combined with a sanguine temperament, his devoted attachment to his master by no means waned under the strain of daily intimate intercourse, not even when he could no longer doubt his ideal’s lack of historic depth and scientific, or rather philosophic insight. Graetz’s nature strongly impelled him to form friendships, and his attachments were fervent. He always felt a lively interest in what went on about him, and even at that early time he was fond of taking an active part in shaping the occurrences of the day, whenever he thought, that by assuming the rôle of Providence he might be useful to his friends in the ordering of their affairs--a disposition that redounded later to the benefit of many of his pupils. In January, 1837, for instance, the belated news reached him from his home, with which he kept up a steady correspondence, that the Chief Rabbi Akiba Eger had died in Posen. Without being commissioned to do so, he wrote to the directors of the Posen congregation, and brought Hirsch, whose yearning for a wide sphere of activity he knew, to their notice. When the directors entered into negotiations with Hirsch he broke out into jubilation. In fact, a party favoring the pretensions of the Oldenburg District Rabbi formed in Posen, but nothing more resulted. The procedure was repeated when the Wollstein rabbinate fell vacant in 1840, except that Hirsch, to his disciple’s great disappointment, would not share Graetz’s enthusiasm for Wollstein. From this it appears that Graetz was not a recluse nor a bookworm. In Oldenburg, as everywhere, he sought to meet people and cultivate friendly intercourse with them, and his joyous nature readily yielded to the innocent gayety of social pleasures.

At the same time he neglected neither his duties nor his studies. While with Hirsch he acquired the English language, and finding some Syriac books in the rabbi’s library, he began to devote himself to Syriac. The study of the former language his master seems to have encouraged, but not of the latter. Hirsch met his disciple with uniform kindness, and returned his enthusiastic devotion with fatherly benevolence. Graetz was treated as a member of his family. In the third year of his Oldenburg sojourn, his relations with the mistress of the house were disturbed by slight discords, such as cannot fail to arise in long-continued, familiar intercourse, and tend now to strengthen, now to abridge intimacy. With Graetz’s proud sense of independence they finally sufficed to ruffle the tranquillity of a soul wholly absorbed by the present. Anxiety about his future began to disquiet him. The desire to decide definitely upon a career and the longing to see his parents, who in the meantime had removed from Zerkow to Kosten near Posen, a somewhat larger town, united to make his departure from Oldenburg seem advisable.

III.
THE JOURNEYMAN.

The adieux were said with touching cordiality, and after an absence of more than three years Graetz set his face homeward, and arrived in Kosten in the middle of August, 1840. The younger people everywhere received Hirsch’s disciple with joyous welcome, and induced him to preach at Wollstein, Kosten, and Zerkow. His sermons, to be sure, did not transport his audiences with enthusiasm, but they were ample guarantees of the preacher’s fund of knowledge and originality. All his friends, therefore, agreed, that it would be advisable for Graetz to “study,” in the technical sense of the German word, that is, go through the university and obtain a degree. They adduced the fact that the smaller congregations at least, such as Wreschen, Wollstein, and Kosten, in part had appointed “graduate rabbis” (studirte Rabbiner), in part had resolved to fill their rabbinates with them.

To secure means for a university course, he agreed to accept a position as tutor in Ostrowo, and entered upon his work at the end of 1840. Ostrowo is a little town in the south-eastern part of the Province, the seat of a large Jewish community, which at the time was still completely under the sway of the graceless habits of Ghetto life. Graetz felt thoroughly uncomfortable. His position in the house at which he was engaged to teach did not please him, and in the town he found no one with whom he cared to cultivate friendly intercourse. He had submitted to tutoring, by no means an arduous occupation, in order to lay by money, but he lacked financial talent and the ability to economize. In fact, his devotion to his family connections, his good nature, and his improvidence involved him in pecuniary embarrassments so serious that the monologues in his diary overflow with pessimistic, melancholy reflections. He sought indemnification in frequent excursions to neighboring towns, in composing a Hebrew biography of Mishna teachers under the title תולדות אבות {Hebrew: Toldot Avot},10 and, it appears, in reading the works of the Fathers of the Church. On one of his little trips, the occasion being the betrothal of a friend of his, he met the sister of the fiancée, a very young girl, who attracted and pleased him, and who was destined to exert decisive and salutary influence upon his life. The meeting acted like a soothing charm upon his ill-humor, though he was far from anticipating the consequences it bore. He remained in his position at Ostrowo for one year and a half, until July, 1842, when a trivial occurrence ruptured the irksome relation in a manner not altogether pleasant.

Now he went straightway to Breslau to the University. As he had not been graduated from a Gymnasium, Graetz had to obtain ministerial permission to attend the University. His petition was granted, and, in October, 1842, he was matriculated. With reverential awe and expectation the self-taught student entered the mysterious lecture halls consecrated to pure science, only to leave them shrugging his shoulders at the wisdom proclaimed, disappointed, his longings unsatisfied. The knowledge of which he was master when he began his University course was richer and more varied than ordinary students are likely to start with, and though it was not systematically ordered nor well-balanced, it formed a unit, and had already begun to crystallize about a center. His apprenticeship years, in short, were over; the maturity of his views and his judgment is unmistakable.

While at the University, he heard lectures on a wide variety of subjects--on history, philosophy, Oriental languages, even physics--but it does not appear that any left deep traces upon his mind. Even Professor Bernstein, an Orientalist of considerable reputation, who drew him into the circle of his close associates, did not understand how to kindle his pupil’s zeal, usually so impetuous, for the thorough study of Syriac and Arabic. Apparently Graetz had relinquished the ambition to gain mastery of them. The only one to have success was Professor Braniss, a philosopher in high esteem in his day, with whom also Graetz cultivated intimate relations. He at all events must have been instrumental in acquainting him with the Hegelian system of philosophy, and in imbuing him with the recognition, that even in the world of liberty, that is, man’s world of mental endeavor, phases of development succeed each other in conformity with absolute laws, chiefly of an ideal, non-mechanical nature; that therefore the spiritual powers that produce the history of mankind by the realization of ever higher ideas not only follow their indwelling laws, but at the same time submit unconditionally to the law of cause and effect; and that the paradox of opposites, the principle of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, is particularly helpful in the consideration of historical phenomena.

Though Graetz was immersed in his studies, he did not fail to give close attention to the occurrences in the Breslau Jewish community. The events happening there in those days were not merely of local interest. They cast their light and their shadow far beyond the Silesian frontier, and were the cause of intense excitement in all Jewish circles of Germany. In Breslau the orthodox and the reform views of Judaism for the first time rushed at each other with full force in the struggle for supremacy. Storm and conflict raged violently between the old and the new. Blind to the conditions of the time, orthodoxy stubbornly opposed a non possumus to every offer looking to an adjustment of difficulties. The representatives of the two parties, the orthodox Solomon Tiktin on the one side and the progressive Abraham Geiger on the other, sought to get the better of each other with remorseless acrimony. Geiger won the upper hand, and even the disruption of the Breslau congregation caused by Tiktin’s defeat did not derogate from the reform champion’s victory.

Dr. Abraham Geiger should be classed among the most prominent rabbis of his time. The modern development of the religious life had been proceeding quietly though steadily, when it was convulsed to its depths by the storm announced by his first appearance upon the rabbinical scene. As a speaker and as a writer he handled a popular style with masterful skill, which manifested itself in felicitous copiousness rather than in the concentration of precise, forcible language. One of the best pulpit orators among Jews, he succeeded in holding attention and stimulating thought by his simple manner and brilliant turns of expression. His published sermons, very limited in number, give not even an approximate idea of the powerful impression produced by his spoken words, totally unaided though they were by charms of person.11 His scholarly contributions to Jewish science are of pre-eminent and of permanent value. He has rendered particularly valiant service by his researches into the history of literature, a field in which he was master. On the other hand, one sometimes misses thoroughness of scholarly culture in his early productions, especially those of the first part of his Breslau period. Besides, he was fond of obtruding his reform bias. In spite of his scientific attainments, his historical sense lacked profundity, and in spite of his great achievements in the province of modern liturgy, his appreciation of the needs and emotions of the people’s spiritual life was neither sufficiently delicate nor sufficiently intense. At bottom he was a doctrinaire rationalist. His religious program and aims, too, were not clearly and definitely put forth. For example, his attitude towards the radical currents at that time rolling their destructive waves over Judaism amounted to more than benevolent neutrality. The observer cannot ward off the impression, that he was inclined to steer straight for ethical deism, and was restrained only by opportunist reasons. At this above all Graetz took umbrage, and by and by his antipathy to Geiger was complete. A good deal of sham and tinsel had probably slipped into the various tentative organizations which Geiger endeavored to call into existence; perhaps they were unavoidable concomitants of such efforts. It is possible, too, that the unpleasant impression was reinforced by a tendency to officiousness observable in Geiger--at worst a pardonable foible. As Graetz was constituted, he felt so strong a repugnance to humbug and pretense that he exercised neither forbearance nor consideration towards such faults. He visited Geiger only once, possibly twice. Immediately after Graetz had made himself at home in the lecture-rooms of his department, he paid his respects to the two rabbinical party-leaders. The entry in his diary is as follows:

“I have made the acquaintance of Rabbi Tiktin. With what reverence I used to stand and look at the mail-clad names of the Tiktins on the first pages of רי''פים {Hebrew: Rifim}!12 As Charlemagne in his iron armor kept all intruders at a becoming distance, so the dignity of those theologic knights seemed to me to be enhanced by the long beards and the imposing Spanish canes13 and the Talmudic dust. There was I sitting next to a descendant of those rabbinical נפילים {Hebrew: Nefilim}.14 Ah! what a falling-off there has been! Tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis. To be sure, there is still the stately stature, still the Spanish cane. But the ensemble, a something not to be defined in words, is missing. Next to the rabbi, nolentes volentes, I place Dr. Geiger, a spare little man. Why he was so very kind to me I do not know. Of Hirsch we have not yet spoken, and probably shall not speak. But to what depths we have sunk! In the presence of fifty Jews, headed by a רב {Hebrew: Rav}, Dr. Freund15 dares utter words like “rabbinically erratic inferences.” Cicero and Plato, then, are to be read as antidotes to rabbinical perversions. Zounds! And to-day Geiger delivered his first lecture on the Mishna. The Mishna is a collection of religious notions, as they were formed and developed from the Exile to R. Jehuda Hanassi. What insane logic!”

When, in March, 1843, the stiff-necked, tenacious champion of an effete form of Judaism, the lion-warrior Solomon Tiktin, last representative of a race of Talmudic heroes, wounded to the quick by his defeat, was removed from the scene by death, Geiger stood at the zenith of his fame. Since many a day no rabbi’s name had been so well-known as Geiger’s in all the extent of German Jewry, none was so frequently mentioned. In Silesia there was no more popular rabbi, and in Breslau his word was potent, influential, and feared by his adversaries. His scientific eminence was generally acknowledged; his eloquence dominated the pulpit no less than the minds of his hearers. Who dared attack him was badly used, and bore ridicule as well as injury from the fray.