In the course of the year 1844, the first signs of a slowly crystallizing reaction became noticeable. Various germinating forces looking to the formation of a new theologic party on a conservative platform consolidated in that year under the leadership of Zacharias Frankel. From this place and that, single barbed arrows, followed by more and sharper ones, winged by irony and hard to parry, came whizzing through the air, striking Geiger and his followers in the most sensitive spots. A well-known weekly Jewish journal, Der Orient, under the editorship of Dr. Fürst, published reports of the more important occurrences in the Breslau community. The descriptions of the anonymous correspondent were graphic, pungent, and critical. The articles naturally aroused attention. In Breslau, as they continued to appear week after week, they created a veritable sensation. The two parties looked forward to each issue of the “Orient” with equal expectancy, though otherwise with opposite feelings. In the orthodox camp there was exultation. At last an expert writer had appeared, who laid bare all sorts of evils fearlessly and unsparingly, and who seemed to serve the cause of conservatism by his bold opposition to Geiger. But who was the archer that sped his arrow with aim so true and poise so elegant? Guesses were hazarded, a narrow search was instituted, and especially the ranks of the Jewish students of theology at that time gathered in Breslau, mostly about Geiger, were sharply inspected. It was established beyond a doubt, that it was a homo novus, a student from the Province--Graetz, who, proudly independent of every sort of patronage, was earning a scant livelihood by giving lessons. The amazement grew when Graetz, nearly simultaneously with the just mentioned contributions to the “Orient,” published a critical review, valuable even at this late day, of Geiger’s “Textbook of the Mishnic Language.”16 This critique, auspiciously ushering him into the scientific world,17 was begun in the literary supplement of the “Orient” at the end of 1844, and continued as a series of articles in the following year. It gave him the opportunity of expounding his own views upon the subject and displaying advantageously a fund of information, mastery of the material, philological tact, scientific instincts, and considerable talent as a stylist. His criticism of the book is often to the point, but rather severe and not entirely free from animosity. It was characteristic of Graetz to express his opinion clearly and directly. Geiger replied to the challenge in “The Israelite of the Nineteenth Century”18 in still more acrimonious articles, which likewise are not wholly objective. In fact, they contain approaches to personalities, and dwell upon slips and trivial details, thus demonstrating the importance attached to the appearance of his young antagonist in the arena. In any event, Graetz had drawn the attention of a wider circle to himself, and in Breslau he had become at one bound the central topic of interest in Karlsstrasse. The orthodox partisans made advances to him, although he did not for a moment leave them in doubt about his disapproval of their program and his dissent from their religious views. He told them that he was pursuing his own original ideas, and that his guiding principle was unalterable loyalty to positive Judaism. However, he restrained them from many a foolish and fanatic step. In the face of orthodox opposition Geiger had energetically organized a religious school, which was prospering. Graetz therefore advised the adherents of orthodoxy not to permit themselves to lose touch with the younger generation, but to build up a similar institution on conservative lines. The advice seems to have fallen on fruitful soil. It was intimated to the counselor, that the intention was to entrust him with the organization and superintendence of a school of that kind, provided he obtained his University degree before its opening. Besides, his name was beginning to be mentioned in connection with vacant rabbinates. It was therefore necessary to hasten his graduation. After a few weeks of severe application, he finished his thesis, De auctoritate et vi, quam gnosis in Judaismum habuerit, which secured him the doctorate from the University of Jena in April, 1845. Under the title, “Gnosticism and Judaism,”19 the dissertation was published in that year as the first original product of his pen. The work in every respect bears the peculiar stamp of his scientific character. It is distinguished by familiarity with patristic literature; by his method of explaining Talmud statements, commonly taken to be general, as particular historical cases; by lucidity of arrangement and presentation; and by his happy gift of divining the occult relation between things, which enabled him to shed the first rays of light upon the ספר יצירה {Hebrew: Sefer Yetzirah},20 the most enigmatic book of rabbinical literature. The thesis was received kindly, and it gave him a place in the Jewish world of scholarship.
Such surprising successes swelled the breast of the literary novice, who had worked his way to the front by arduous toil, with justifiable and happy hopes. The halcyon days of young fame, at the remembrance of which his face lighted up with pleasure even in old age, he planned to spend with his parents. On his way home he passed through Krotoschin. There, in his friend’s house, he met the half-grown girl of other days, now in the flush of young womanhood. Her image, faint though it had become in the background of his memory, had not faded entirely. She was the daughter of Monasch, the proprietor of the well-known Hebrew printing establishment. Each made a deep impression upon the other, and encouraged to believe that his future might be considered assured, Graetz did not conceal his feelings. They were requited, and the young people plighted their troth. Graetz did not suspect that he had won a strong womanly heart that would be his beacon and a prop to which he would cling for support during the dark days soon to break over him.
All sorts of vague, undefined hopes arose before his view, and some of them gradually assumed shape. The prospect of an honorable position, such as he had longed for and aspired to, seemed about to be realized. The rabbinate of Gleiwitz, one of the larger congregations of Upper Silesia, taking rank in wealth and perhaps in size after Breslau, was vacant, and the authorities were looking out for a man equipped with rabbinic lore, standing upon the height of modern culture, and favoring a sober, moderate reform movement. All entitled to a voice in the matter fixed upon Graetz, whose reputation as a writer had spread to them. He seemed the most suitable incumbent. By virtue of his native talent and his attainments, it was thought that he would be able to overrule or to meet the manifold, rather hazy views and demands of the members of the congregation. The leading spirits among them declared themselves in favor of his election. Nothing more was necessary than to attract all the other circles of the community by proving his homiletic ability in several trial sermons, the success of which seemed a foregone conclusion. Before the great Holy Days of 1845 (5606) Graetz received a Hebrew communication from the directors of the Gleiwitz congregation, couched in the most flattering terms, assuring him of the reversion of the rabbinate, and inviting him to preach the sermons in their synagogue on the Day of Atonement.
At the appointed time, on the eve of the sacred day, he ascended the pulpit, and the result was--a thoroughly unexpected fiasco, the more deplorable as it shattered his own confidence in his oratorical powers. He had forgotten his memorandum completely. Losing his presence of mind, he had to leave the pulpit after saying a few words. His friends and followers stood by him loyally, and did their utmost to secure for him the opportunity of repairing the damage. He succeeded in rehabilitating himself only partly; the ground lost could not be recovered. The surprising mishap, it must be confessed now after the lapse of time, was a stroke of good fortune for the ambitious scholar and his life-work, ungentle though the impetus was that forced him into the path for which he was peculiarly equipped and gifted. In those days of universal fermentation, the religious life of Jewish communities was crossed and agitated by opposite, confused, and stormy currents. A man of uncontrollable impulse to be active and to exert independent, direct influence whenever it might seem necessary, and prone to give utterance to his convictions in truthful, incisive, and caustic language--a quality of dubious value--would hardly have succeeded in steering his rabbinical boat among the crags of party strife, usually carried on with fanatic violence. He would either have had to become faithless to his nature and genius, or, if that were not possible, eventually be wrecked. At best, in case he had a high degree of tact and prudence at his disposal, he would have consumed his finest powers in putting more or less salutary measures into effect on a restricted field. Graetz, who knew himself thoroughly, had always feared that he would not be in his proper place in a rabbinical position. From the first he had felt a shrinking at the thought of the duties and responsibilities of a rabbi. A few days before he left for Gleiwitz he wrote in his diary:
“Of all positions I am least adapted for that of rabbi; in every way I lack force of manner, an imposing presence. My knowledge, too, is highly defective, but my will is strong, energetic. If God’s service can be performed by an instrument of such caliber, then here am I ready for it, body and soul. But the preaching!”
In very truth the preacher’s Pegasus serves the noble enthusiasm of the elect willingly and ardently, and as willingly lends his back to mediocrity to execute more or less doubtful tricks before the eyes and ears of the many-headed crowd. Graetz it threw in the critical moment, and the fall affected him deeply and painfully. He who only a short time before, almost without effort, had won literary triumphs, and who as a rule shrank from no difficult undertaking, now despaired of ever being able to wield the living word with the power with which he directed the pen. In fact, he had been denied the external qualifications of an orator. It cannot be said to have been his appearance that stood in the way of success; he was of average height and well-knit frame. But in loud speech his voice lacked modulation, and his manner was ineffectual. Above all, he was incapable of posing; in his character there was not the slightest trace of the actor, who, as Goethe says, “might give points to a preacher.”
The above incident put a hopeless end to all the prospects he had entertained. Again care for his daily bread stalked by his side like a specter. The most deplorable aspect of his case was that his strength did not emerge from this severe contest, as from former ones, steeled and braced by cheering hopes for the future. Besides, he reproached himself for having drawn another and a beloved person into his forlorn life. Then the high-mindedness and unselfish devotion of the woman of his choice sustained him, refreshing his weary soul with consolation and encouragement, and calming the tumult of his wounded feelings. His animal spirits rose again under the stimulus of an honorable invitation, extended by Zacharias Frankel, to join a conference of conservative rabbis called by him to meet at Dresden in September,21 1846, for the purpose of discussing the religious problems of the day and uniting for concerted action.
At the very beginning of his career in Dresden, Dr. Zacharias Frankel had developed fruitful activity in connection with the removal of the political and civil disabilities, especially with regard to oaths, under which his coreligionists in Saxony were laboring. None the less he was essentially a scholar. Master of comprehensive knowledge of the Talmud, which he had acquired with critical thoroughness, he laid the foundations for the modern analysis of this work of literature. He made it his life-task to promote the scientific study of the Talmud and trace the evolution of the Halakha. The first-fruits of his literary endeavor betrayed the serious, thorough scholar by the accuracy, the scrupulous nicety, and the trustworthiness of his research, and secured for him a high and undisputed position in the scientific world. When the reform agitation within the Jewish community of Germany developed into a rapid stream whose waters grew more and more turbulent; when, on the one side, rabbinical conferences were planned for the purpose of systematizing and sanctioning projected innovations, and, on the other, distrust of the progressive leaders inspired the fear that the resolutions and professions of such assemblies might throw dangerous, inflammable material into the different congregations; Frankel deemed it prudent to give up his reserve and actively influence the religious movement. In 1844, accordingly, he began to publish the quarterly “Journal for the Religious Interests of Judaism.”22 It was to bear a strictly scientific character, and at the same time discuss the religious topics of the day. A sober, experienced, and tolerant theologian, Frankel held the position, that in matters of faith as in the other concerns of life the exigencies of the times have to be considered, but that concessions to the modern spirit may not remove us from historic ground, and that all modifications must result from a scientific appreciation of the essence and traditions of Judaism.
All this appealed strongly to Graetz, and no sooner had he come into public notice, in the year following the first appearance of the journal, than he sought to establish relations with Frankel. The latter met his advances with cordiality, and invited the young scholar to become a contributor to his quarterly review. Graetz responded with a brilliant and suggestive article, “The Septuagint in the Talmud.”23 It affords a striking example of his peculiar method of comparing Talmud and Midrash passages with each other and with the statements and quotations of the Fathers of the Church, thus determining the historical elements of the Talmudic account and building theories upon it. In the same year (1845), Frankel had gone to Frankfort-on-the-Main, to the second rabbinical conference, with the hope of infusing a spirit of moderation and conciliation into its proceedings and measures. But he abandoned the hope on the passage of the resolution, that the retention of Hebrew as the language of the synagogue service was only “advisable,” not “essential” (objektiv-nothwendig). He, therefore, withdrew from the conference in a public manner, and justified his action in a formal declaration, equally dignified and firm.
On all sides Frankel’s course met with hearty approval. Its effect was to startle the conservatives of every shade of opinion out of their apathy. Numerous prominent communities sent him flattering addresses, conveying their thanks and their unreserved commendation of his resolute policy. Graetz had written an enthusiastic document, which was circulated in Breslau, and was quickly covered with signatures. In collecting them, he had not been able to resist the malicious prompting to secure the names of notorious adherents of Geiger. The latter had taken deep offense at Frankel’s secession, and had been betrayed into abuse by his declaration. It is impossible to say now, why Frankel did not at once utilize the disposition in his favor to gather a large conservative party about himself. Only in the following year, 1846, he took steps looking to this end. He issued invitations to the conservative theologians of modern bias, summoning them to a convention at Dresden, with the purpose perhaps of devising an effective opposition to the third reform conference of rabbis to meet at Breslau in July of the same year. But even this effort was not made with the energy characteristic of Frankel and necessary to accomplish the desired result. When Graetz arrived in Dresden in September, 1846, he was amazed to find that no one else had put in appearance. Samson Raphael Hirsch, at that time District Rabbi of Emden, had from the first refused co-operation with the movement, inasmuch as he denied the authority, natural or conferred, of the modern rabbi to modify the religious cult. Rapoport of Prague had declined the invitation for reasons not specified. It is well-known that his interests were enlisted only in scientific pursuits. Michael Sachs of Berlin had excused himself on the plea of routine duties. For most of the others the time and place of convention were not convenient. To sue for support was out of the question with Frankel’s aristocratic temperament. It was repugnant to him, or he did not know how, to create sentiment in his own favor by agitation or self-advertisement. He could not attract a party to his leadership by seductive wiles, nor infuse fanatic factionalism into its ranks. Relying solely on the justice of his cause, and appealing exclusively to the convictions of his followers, he scorned petty tricks and artifices. That Graetz was the only one to render unconditional obedience to his summons must naturally have produced a deep impression upon him. The two men, so different in years, disposition, and endowments, but at one in views and aims, were brought close to each other by the personal meeting. By tacit agreement they became companions in arms from that moment unto the end. Graetz, at all events, recognizing that their religious principles approximated each other, was resolved to take his position in theological affairs by Frankel’s side, whenever so doing involved no loss of independence. Frankel in turn evinced a sense of their religious affinity by conferring upon Graetz, at his request, the formal authorization for the exercise of rabbinical functions התרת הוראה ({Hebrew: Hatarat hora’ah}). At the end of 1846, Frankel gave up the publication of his journal to save his strength for a better future. To this third and last annual series, Graetz had contributed, besides several reviews, one of his important treatises, that discussing “The Construction of Jewish History”24 in several articles. Bright and vivid in style and replete with fine thoughts which even homiletes drew upon in various ways, the essay defines clearly and sharply the considerations and points of view of essential importance in a complete presentation of Jewish history. But the author was still so prejudiced in favor of the technically philosophic terminology and conceptions of his time that he was betrayed into giving undue prominence to the transcendence of God as compared with the monotheistic idea.
Though Graetz had won high respect by his scholarly productions especially in theologic circles, he vainly looked about for a position, no matter how modest, in which to strike root. At last the sky seemed to grow brighter; he was cheered by the prospect of soon being able to establish a home of his own, a prospect that proved a fata morgana. By the end of 1846 the orthodox party in Breslau resumed energetic operations. They had accepted as their rabbi Gedaliah, the son of the deceased Solomon Tiktin, who had inherited from his father only his tall stature, and they were preparing to open a religious school for the propaganda of their principles. Its organization and superintendence were entrusted to Graetz.25 The Breslau community was no longer a unit, the orthodox members having separated from the congregation. But the seceders had no legally valid right to form a body corporate. Moreover, on July 23, 1847, the law defining the status of the Prussian Jews appeared, and it could not be determined how conditions would be modified by it. Wealthy individuals in their private capacity therefore assumed responsibility in the business contracts of the orthodox party, particularly in the matter of the new school. Then the political storms of 1848 swept over the Prussian provinces. Economic disturbances occurred, and apprehensive of still more serious ones, the wealthy patrons of the orthodox party recalled their pledges. The complete collapse of the religious school followed as the first sacrifice in orthodox circles claimed by the political flood, whose waves carried destructive change to the most remote relations between men. Graetz was again left stranded, without an occupation, without a livelihood.
At that time all eyes were turned towards Vienna, where the popular uprising had assumed vast dimensions and won surprising victories. Democracy stood in battle array, and had gained possession of the Austrian capital. It was fondly hoped that the fortune of war would decide there in favor of the democratic party. A friend of Graetz, Dr. B. Friedmann,26 later rabbi in Mannheim, was at that time prominent in Breslau as an effective popular speaker, and was a member of the editorial staff of the democratic organ, the Oderzeitung. By his intervention the curious proposition was made to Graetz to go to Vienna as correspondent of the journal just mentioned. In his forlorn state he acquiesced, though not without reluctance. On his journey to Vienna, he felt impelled to leave the direct route and stop off at Nikolsburg to pay a visit to his former teacher, Samson Raphael Hirsch, who had meantime resigned the District Rabbinate of Emden for that of Nikolsburg. Letters had passed between them constantly since the Oldenburg days, and although Graetz was not in sympathy with the rigidly traditional point of view occupied by Hirsch, and no longer viewed the theologic attitude of his old guide with youthful enthusiasm, but rather with critical, sober judgment, their friendly relations of other times had suffered no diminution in cordiality. Graetz’s love and reverence for Hirsch had not in the least evaporated, and Hirsch still felt strongly attracted to the younger man. He was not disposed to sanction his project of going to Vienna, the hot-bed of revolution, and Graetz, who had little love and desire for the calling of a political reporter, was easily persuaded to stay in Nikolsburg and content himself with a subordinate place at the religious school of the town. In the background, to be sure, the reversion of a teacher’s position at a theologic seminary, projected and seriously considered by Hirsch, loomed up before him.
Hirsch had long cherished the idea of founding a Jewish theologic institute. He shared this dear ambition with the other prominent rabbis of his generation, who hoped thus to further their wish to perpetuate each one his own theologic bias. The establishment of a theologic seminary was, in fact, one of the burning questions of the day. Nikolsburg, where a popular Talmud school had flourished from time immemorial, seemed to lend itself to the execution of Hirsch’s plan. It was only necessary to use the existing institution as a foundation, make the proper changes in its management, and infuse the new spirit into it. Graetz was at once induced by his patron to give a course of lectures on Jewish history to the students at Nikolsburg, who were well versed in the Talmud, but whose training had been wholly dialectic. The character of his auditors suggested the subject to the lecturer. He treated the time of the Mishna and the Talmud, a period of which he had previously made a thorough study, and to which he again devoted serious research with a view to his academic purpose. Despite the zeal with which he applied himself to his lectures and studies, his main expectation suffered disappointment. The painfulness of his precarious position became more pronounced as time passed. The fanatics of the Nikolsburg Ghetto found fault even with the scrupulously religious conduct of their District Rabbi; as for his disciple, he went up and down among them a strange, repellant figure. Denunciations led the local authorities to suspect him of democratic leanings, and he was thus branded with the darkest stigma that could be fastened upon any one, but particularly upon a foreigner, in the Austria of that day. All the influence possessed by his friends had to be exerted to ward off ugly complications and immediate expulsion.
It became more and more evident that the rabbinical seminary, upon which Graetz had staked all his hopes, was only a bubble. Whether the circumstances of place and time were unpropitious, or whether Hirsch dropped the plan for other reasons, is doubtful.27 Moreover, the friendly relations between the two men began to be somewhat strained. Therefore, the proposal to undertake the organization and superintendence of a school, made him by the directors of the Jewish community of Lundenburg, a little town in the Nikolsburg district in the neighborhood of Vienna, was hailed by Graetz as release from an untenable position. Negotiations were quickly concluded, and on September 12, 1850, he was appointed director and superintendent of the Jewish school at Lundenburg.
Before entering upon the duties of his office he hastened home, and in the beginning of October, 1850, solemnized his marriage with the loyal woman whose patience had never failed, who had never been discouraged by hope deferred, and had never lost confidence in his ability. He could not have found a truer, a braver comrade than the wife who shared the fortunes of the rest of his career. By her harmonious, temperate, and loving nature, she not only glorified his home and cheered cloudy days, but also restrained his impetuous disposition, and moderated his proneness to sharp, caustic, aggressive words. She understood the needs of his inmost soul, in the recesses of which a reverberation was sometimes heard as of vague, unfulfilled longings. His personality was made up of many an incommensurable factor that baffled explanation. With all his communicativeness he was reserved; the most intimate emotions of his heart were never revealed. To outsiders he always appeared wholly unruffled and serene, and no one suspected the thoughts and feelings stormily surging through his being under its placid surface. But in order to preserve his equanimity, he stood in need of frank expression to some one or in some way. It was the outlet and the purification of the easily excited and strongly reacting emotions of a nature responding quickly to external pressure. Probably the leaves of his diary served this purpose; most of them were written under the stimulus of tense passion. From the day of his marriage the record becomes more and more attenuated, until it ceases entirely. In his life-companion he had found the responsive being devoted to him in boundless veneration and sympathy, whose sentiments were a perfect echo, clearer usually than the original sound, of his thought and feeling. And as she took part in his soul-life, so she shared in his intellectual plans. She made her husband’s scientific interests her own, and in his scholarly research afforded him the efficient help of a careful assistant.
The new principal began his work in Lundenburg on October 15 with zeal and love for his task--he superintended, classified, taught, and delivered solemn addresses. Apparently success was not lacking, for he met with encouraging applause. In the shelter of his modest but happy home, he resumed his literary plans and work. While preparing his Nikolsburg lectures, he had gathered together an abundance of material on the Talmudic era, which he now meant to put to use.
Before long, however, gray clouds cast a shadow on his idyllic condition. The relation between him and Hirsch almost suffered an open breach. When the newly married couple came to Nikolsburg to pay their respects to him, Hirsch demanded that the young wife, in accordance with a Talmudic custom, cover her beautiful hair with a sort of wig, called Scheitel. She resisted the bidding politely but firmly, with the pride of an offended woman. Graetz upheld his wife energetically, and the two parties separated little pleased with each other. The low-hanging mist apt to develop in the atmosphere of narrow, undisciplined Ghetto life, particularly in a small Austrian community, was more oppressive even and harder to bear. The Lundenburg rabbi, a narrow-minded Talmudist, who feared to have his fame overshadowed by Graetz’s, now and again asserted his official superiority unpleasantly. Small town rivalries were fomented to annoy the notabilities of the congregation by means of attacks upon the measures and the men they favored. Such conditions made Graetz feel by their hidden venom that unmixed joy is the portion of no mortal, least of all of the principal of an Austrian communal school. Denunciations of him were again rife. Those before the district court representing him as a democrat incarnate were particularly troublesome. Happily the charges were dismissed without in the least injuring him.
The year 1851 heightened his happiness; it brought him the joys of fatherhood. A daughter was born to him, the only one in a family of five children. His relation to her was always peculiarly close and affectionate. In the same year Zacharias Frankel re-entered the theologic arena with a monthly journal, which, unlike his earlier venture, the Zeitschrift, was to be devoted first and foremost to scientific interests. Graetz received a most honorable invitation to become a contributor, and he gladly ranged himself under Frankel’s banner. In quick succession he published in the first year of the “Monthly Journal for the History and Science of Judaism”28 (October, 1851–December, 1852) a series of historical monographs: “Jewish Historical Studies;”29 a review of Rapoport’s Encyclopedia; “Talmudic Chronology and Topography;”30 and “The Removable Highpriests of the Second Temple Period”31--all of which evinced great erudition, clear grasp of the subject, and mature judgment. They are of the nature of special studies in preparation and as a foundation for a connected account of the events from the downfall of the Jewish state until the completion of the Talmud. He had long cherished the idea of such a work, and he now reduced it to writing with great rapidity.
In the meantime, in the course of the year 1852, the complexion of the district court seems to have changed, or the wind was blowing from another quarter; at all events, Graetz suddenly and with painful surprise became aware that unceasing intrigues and malicious denunciations had at last taken effect upon the district governor. He found himself exposed to serious annoyances and humiliations. No effort to ward them off promising success, he resigned his position at Lundenburg.
He felt impelled to return to his native Prussia, and determined to remove to Berlin with his family. The decision was inspired by the hope of easily finding in the capital a publisher for his history of the Talmudic epoch, which was almost ready for the press. He was furthermore actuated by the consideration, that in the prosecution of the plan of writing a complete history of the Jews, already taking shape in his mind, he could not well do without the libraries to be found only in large cities. In the latter half of September, 1852, he arrived in Berlin, and was kindly received by Dr. Michael Sachs and other friends willing to serve him. Through Dr. Sachs he became acquainted with the excellent Dr. Veit, who undertook the publication of his work. During the winter semester 1852–53 the directors of the Berlin congregation invited him to deliver, for a honorarium, a number of historical lectures before students of Jewish theology, in a course in which the other speakers were Zunz and Sachs. His lectures were received with approval.32 At the close of one of them, delivered in the middle of February, he was approached by Joseph Lehmann, railway director and editor of a journal in good standing, “Magazine for Foreign Literature,”33 a man justly enjoying high respect. Acting under the instructions of the Board of Curators of the Fränkel Bequests in Breslau, Lehmann asked Graetz, whether he would be disposed to become a member of the faculty of the rabbinical seminary to be established at Breslau. At the same time he told him, that negotiations with Dr. Frankel, Chief Rabbi of Dresden, were pending with regard to the directorship, and that Frankel, among other conditions of his acceptance, had demanded Graetz’s engagement as teacher. The Board of Curators had assented cheerfully, and now desired Graetz’s answer. Graetz made his consent dependent upon Frankel’s final, favorable decision, which was received soon after. These preliminaries over, the troublesome discussions on the organization of the seminary began. In the first place, no model or scheme whatsoever existed that might serve as a guide in the organization of a rabbinical academy, with regard to such matters as the time-schedule, the curriculum, and the choice of subjects. Its creation was pioneer work, in furtherance of which there was no available experience; yet the arrangements determined upon under such peculiar circumstances were to bear within themselves the guarantee of practical and immediate success. Besides, the will of the founder, Jonas Fränkel, contained certain clauses, the execution of which, in view of the changed times, might become a menace to the new institution.34 The plan, curriculum, and methods of the future seminary were determined by Zacharias Frankel alone, who recognized the aim to be pursued with clearness and practical insight, and so created the basis for the Jewish theology of the present. His wish to secure a professionally trained man, whose assistance might be freely drawn upon by himself and the Board of Curators, was all the more willingly complied with, as from many considerations an intermediary between the business and the pedagogic heads seemed not superfluous. Frankel had parted from Dresden with a heavy heart, and was inclined to seize the first fairly just pretense to recall his word to the Curators. Thus it came about that Graetz entered the service of the projected seminary on July 1, 1853, with the assurance of being employed, under Frankel’s directorship, as one of the principal teachers,35 in case the statutes and the plans for the institution met with governmental approval, which seemed not at all doubtful.
At the same time Graetz’s book issued from the press under the title: “History of the Jews from the Downfall of the Jewish State to the Completion of the Talmud.”36 This was really the sub-title. The chief title-page ran as follows: “History of the Jews from the Earliest Times until the Present Day. Volume IV,”37 indicating that the author had conceived more than the first sketchy plan of a complete history of the Jews, and that the publication of the fourth volume first was merely an accident in the order of production. Beginning with the account of the Talmudic time turned out a happy hit. If the two literary events admit of comparison, Graetz’s first important work has its only counterpart in the biography of Rashi, with which Zunz, the creator of the science of Judaism, inaugurated his notable activity. The enthusiasm of Zunz’s contemporaries is said to have been kindled when Rashi, the eminent interpreter of Bible and Talmud, familiar to them from their childhood days, and esteemed an indispensable guide and companion in exegesis, appeared to them divested of the vaporous halo of supernatural glory, and translated into the sphere of human reality. Similarly the effect was electrifying when a flood of brilliant light suddenly scattered the mist of the dark epoch in which Mishna and Talmud, the authoritative books of post-Biblical Judaism, were composed, and revealed to sight life-size the rabbi-authors of those works, whose names and maxims were matter of common knowledge. The pen of our historian had charmed them out of the unreality of their existence. They had been habitually looked upon as abstractions, doctrines incarnate. Not much more had been known of them than that they had said, asked, and sometimes wailed. At best, people had been inclined to imagine them a sort of Kabbalists or Polish itinerant rabbis. Now it was seen that hot blood and throbbing life pulsated in their veins. Their clear-cut, mental features with their characteristic excellencies and shortcomings distinguished one from the other. They stood before the reader in checkered array, true knights by the grace of intellect, antique figures, glowing with patriotism, of inflexible will and indestructible faith. With equal vividness the author depicted the spiritual atmosphere of the time with its humors, passions, fermentation, and struggles; the surging and seething of ideas, factions, opinions, and aims in wild disorder and violent opposition to one another; and the final evolution of the impelling forces which determine the course of historical events by the exchange of thrust and counterthrust. Graetz wanted to make the heart-beat of the period perceptible to the senses. Therefore, he was little concerned about the technical correctness of his style and diction. He did not shrink from brusqueness in words, nor from luridness and voluptuousness in coloring. Without regard to sensitive feelings he chose the plainest, the most striking expressions, that he might be understood by all; that no doubt as to his opinion might suggest itself; that personages and events might appear upon the canvas in a clear light and in the proper position, as they were mirrored in his mind.
The book naturally aroused a great sensation upon its appearance. It at once created an audience for itself with which it found a rich measure of favor and applause. On the other hand, most of the author’s scholarly colleagues at first reserved their opinions. They were taken aback by the new data, which--as, for instance, the formation of Christian sects--had been boldly pressed into service to complete the picture, and they could not reconcile themselves to the description of ancient conditions by means of modern catchwords and turns of expression peculiar to the lighter forms of literature. For example, Graetz characterizes Nachum of Gimso, in whose life mishap after mishap redounded to his benefit, as the Candide38 of the Tanaitic world of legend. He seeks to reconstruct the details of the Bar-Cochba revolt, the chapter on which is one of the most beautiful and touching in his “History,” from single names and widely scattered debris. He goes so far as to speak of two lines of defense, the Esdraelon line and the Tur-Malka line.39 He charges the eminent teacher Judah ha-Nassi with irritability and sensitiveness.40 Relying on Talmudic accounts, he refuses to credit the Romans with a civilizing mission in Asia, and describes their influence in Western Asia in particular as destructive of culture and detrimental to morality. Such features of the work confounded the critics and judges. They did not venture to decide whether the boldness of genial originality was asserting itself, or only the uncouthness of fantastic sensationalism, whose tinsel would not stand the test of time. Moreover, the two religious parties looked askance and with dissatisfaction at a book written to serve the truth only and not available for any sort of propaganda. Loud and public quarrel between them had ceased in the face of the world-stirring events of 1848 and their consequences, but they were as sharply divided as ever. The adherents of the reform party reproached the author with having glorified the Talmud and its teachers, and with having omitted to touch in “a single word”41 upon the sorest spot, “the petrifaction and ossification of Judaism” brought about by the code and its exponents. The rigidly orthodox, on the other hand, were incensed at the criticism, unwarranted in their eyes, to which he subjected the bearers of tradition and at his effort to prove the body of traditional doctrine the product of historical processes.42
But no voice dissented from the opinion, that in Graetz Jewish science had gained an eminent promoter with astonishing scholarship at his disposal. His qualifications and achievements were too extraordinary to be belittled on account of the unavoidable errors that had slipped into his history. It could not be denied, that research had received a decided impetus, and that the sum of historical knowledge had been considerably increased by Graetz’s results, which he had obtained by his mastery over the two Talmuds and the Midrash literature; by his close acquaintance with patristic works; by his effective way of bringing these two widely separated literary spheres close to each other, permitting the one to shed light on the other, and thus clearing up critical points; by his happy gift first of discerning, in spite of the rectification they frequently stood in need of, that certain data scattered over various by-paths of literature were complementary, and then of combining them with each other; and by his acuteness in detecting with unerring glance, animating with spirit, and applying to good purpose, long disused geographical names and obsolete terms lying forgotten in some dark corner and buried under debris.43 In view of the fact that it required rare courage to venture upon the elaboration of one of the obscurest and most difficult portions of Jewish history, thoroughly neglected at that time in the way of special research and monographs, even his opponents could “not help confessing that on the whole he had fulfilled his task satisfactorily.”44 There was evidence, to be sure, of still higher courage in Graetz’s announcement, made without fear or diffidence, on the title-page and in the preface of his book, designated as the fourth volume, that he intended to publish a complete history of the Jews, written in the same spirit of critical research and in the same style. The promise gave occasion for ironical insinuations. How could a single individual hope to accomplish so great an undertaking? Was Graetz endowed with the creative, plastic power of the genuine historian? Or, perhaps he expected to obtain the laurels of the historian on credit!
On the whole, circumstances shaped themselves in a way favorable to him, and facilitated the execution of his bold undertaking. It should not be imagined that a community, or--still more extravagant idea--a Mæcenas offered to furnish him with the means indispensable for the accomplishment of a task such as he had set himself. Brilliant as his achievement was, how much greater it might have been, if he, with his genius for work, had been put in a position to examine and use at his leisure the manuscript treasures of the various European libraries! Up to the present day such good fortune has not befallen Jewish science. It seems as though the Jewish race, endowed with an understanding heart and an open hand for humane interests in general, has not yet awakened to a full recognition of the debt of honor it owes its own past. Graetz, however, was well content to be relieved of the irksome care for his daily bread by the ratification, on April 10, 1854, on the part of the Prussian government, of the statutes, the plan, and the teaching staff of the Rabbinical Seminary. He returned to Breslau, where his literary star had first risen, and where he had once tried vainly to establish himself permanently. Thenceforth he remained there in the congenial position of a regularly appointed teacher at the first Jewish theologic institution, which was inaugurated, with Z. Frankel as director, on August 10, 1854, under the name of “The Jewish Theological Seminary founded by Fränkel.”45
It must be looked upon as providential that the task of first impressing the modern spirit upon the theologic training for the rabbinical office fell to the share of men of such eminent distinction as Frankel, the director of the new institution, and Graetz and Jacob Bernays, its regular teachers. The personality of each of the three was strongly marked. Each one was a homo trium litterarum, in the sense that in subordination to his specialty, he had acquired mastery over the Hebrew-rabbinic, the classical, and the modern literature. By deep and earnest thought each had arrived at a conservative view of Judaism. Of the three, Jacob Bernays,46 a scholar of far-reaching fame in classical philology, doubtless possessed greatest ability as a teacher, which, however, demanded talented pupils for its effective exercise. Frankel’s forte lay in his tact as an organizer and in his practical gifts; he exerted wholesome authority over his disciples in religious as well as scientific matters. Both desired to impress their scientific bias upon those that came under their influence. Graetz, on the other hand, heeded the individuality of his pupils, and in his activity as teacher had in mind especially their stimulation and encouragement. Frankel was desirous of transferring to the Theological Seminary the rigid discipline and detailed supervision of an elementary school,47 because his dearest object was to turn out thorough Talmudists and professionally well-equipped rabbis. Bernays aspired to the romantic splendor of a theologic faculty, and wanted to educate scholarly theologians. With correct and healthy instinct, Graetz endeavored to reconcile these opposite aims and identify the Seminary with a middle course. Although Frankel grasped the rudder with a firm hand, he was sensible enough to consider prudent counsel and kindly enough to give scope to the wishes and views of his colleagues. In this way harmony prevailed among the Seminary teachers, which reacted beneficially upon the students. As long as he lived, Frankel justly maintained what officially and morally was the dominant position in the Seminary. The prosperity of the institution he considered the consummation of his life-work, and being childless, he regarded his pupils as his children, and took a truly paternal interest in their fortunes. Next to him Graetz exercised the most generous hospitality towards the students. He was ever ready to serve any one of them that needed help and advice. Especially such as had aroused his interest, or had impressed him favorably with their ability and character enlisted his sympathy, which he manifested with all the ardor of his temperament. Like Frankel, he identified himself completely with the Breslau Seminary. After many thwarted plans and years of anxious uncertainty, he felt that, at last, through his position as teacher at the Seminary, his vessel had floated into deep, navigable waters, that he could venture to ply the oars with full force, unfurl all the sails, and, favored by wind and weather and propelled by the buoyant courage peculiar to his sanguine nature, steer straight for the destination whither impulse drew him. It was the first time that his official duties coincided with his inner vocation. Faithful, zealous performance of the service he was engaged to do promoted the work he had set himself as the goal of his life. In regular, uninterrupted succession, volume after volume of his “History” now began to appear in complete realization of his plan.
In 1856 the third volume was published under the title, “History of the Jews from the Death of Judas Maccabæus to the Downfall of the Jewish State.”48 It formed the complement and justification of his view of the Talmudic epoch, the one with which he had begun as being the period “least understood in its inner relations.” At the same time the third volume distinctly bounds the spiritual territory in which the Jewish history of the diaspora is rooted. For he intended to dispose of the Jewish history of the diaspora down to the present time before beginning the account of the Biblical and the early post-Biblical periods. Therefore, when he published his fifth volume, “History of the Jews from the Completion of the Talmud (500) to the Beginnings of Jewish-Spanish Culture (1027),”49 he had, as he said in the preface, “got back on the right track.” Now every doubt was bound to vanish; after many years a genuine historian had arisen unto Judaism.
The historian must not be confounded with the scholar. The chief tasks of the latter are the critical examination of historical records, the determining and grouping of facts, the identifying and differentiating of persons, the demarcation of time and place, and the defining and demonstrating of the causal relation between events, their succession, and their interaction. The minute details to which his research happens to be devoted at any moment are as important in his eyes as great and comprehensive principles. Style, form, and manner, moreover, are minor considerations with the scholar; he aims only at accuracy and lucid presentation adapted to the subject-matter. The demands made upon the historian are more numerous and more exacting. He must constantly carry the whole in mind, he must have the ability to mould the historical material with an artist’s creative power and restore the faded features of the past by the life-bestowing word. First of all, he must be equipped with unlimited mastery over the existing material and with easy and sure grasp of all the phases of the historical process, in order to be able to estimate every phenomenon duly, according to its intrinsic value and its external effect, emphasize characteristic and significant points, and allot to persons and events their proper place in the historical succession. He cannot, of course, dispense with the acumen that intuitively arrives at the inwardness of every detail. For it is needful, not only to determine with critical penetration the trustworthiness of existing traditions and documents, but also to discern and demonstrate, as one traces the course of a stream with its tributaries and branches, the presence of the primal forces at work under the surface of things, giving them impetus and direction, and of the factors that impede, strengthen, or divert the action of these forces. From investigations of this kind the historian should derive the chief points of view, those which grow naturally and logically out of the course of events. The true historian must be endowed to a high degree with a faculty for presaging, amounting almost to divination, that he may, like a “backward-looking prophet,” overcome the inadequacy and incompleteness of the material transmitted to him; restore the defective parts by means of his plastic fancy; and everywhere recognize as well as bring to the recognition of his readers, that historical events in their connection are developments from within outward, the outcome, not of a game of chance, but of the workings of absolute law. For such results of his research and insight the historian must then find adequate expression. His presentation of them must serve as the clear, polished mirror reflecting the play of many-hued, chaotic details in distinct and simply grouped pictures, and permitting the peculiarities and characteristics of single persons and events to be apparent, as the warp and the woof are distinguishable in the finished fabric. Real life as it throbbed in the happenings of the past must stand renewed before our eyes, and its fresh, warm breath as it brushes us must constrain our souls to respond at once to its humors and passions.
These qualities are the distinction of Graetz. By reason of their possession and exercise he is a master historian, and his art manifests itself in each of the twelve comprehensive volumes in which he has thrown light upon the history of the Jewish race from its early beginning to the present, a period of more than three thousand years, with every part of the earth as the scene of its events. But we have not yet come to the end of Graetz’s accomplishments as an historian. The lack of special studies in the province of Jewish history made his attempt to write a history of the Jews appear untimely and the prospect of successful execution slight. His undertaking seemed to be opposed not only by well-nigh insuperable inner and outer obstacles, but also by stubborn prejudices. Graetz heeded nothing of all this. Unaided by any committee or corporation, simply by virtue of his exuberant genius, he executed the apparently impossible work. He created the history of their race for his brethren-in-faith, and awakened in the general public sympathetic interest in the past of Judaism. With bold hand he ventured to brush aside the layer of dust and mould encrusting the darkened portraits of the past, and restore freshness and color to the faded, pale contours and forms.
The most important particulars upon which the value and influence of his work depend deserve analysis.
Above all, Graetz, though he did not create it, was the first to define and occupy the point of view from which the historical development of Judaism must be judged. He cleared the whole historical field, so as to be able to examine the various phases of this development with ease and accuracy. As an historian, Graetz had had but a single predecessor50 who must be taken into account, Isaac Marcus Jost. In 1820, the latter began to publish a “History of the Israelites from the Time of the Maccabees.”51 Nine years later nine volumes had appeared, bringing the history down to his own time. Under the title, “Universal History of the Israelitish People,”52 he published, in 1850, a two-volume epitome with corrections and improvements, covering in addition the period from Abraham to the Maccabees. He did not prove himself a real pioneer in either work. Jost was a scholar, but not an historian; a noble man with admirable qualities, whose varied knowledge gave a considerable impetus to Jewish historical work, but he had not been singled out as the proclaimer of an historical revelation to be spread far and wide in joyful, vigorous utterance. In view of the fact, however, that no monographs on special phases of the subject existed at his time, Jost’s achievement cannot be sufficiently admired. He sought out and arranged the more or less obvious, but widely scattered data, appraising their value and assigning to each its due place. He thus produced a manual for the chaos of confusing details and facts. In respect to manner, his presentation of the subject makes the impression of an herbarium. His work consists of a collection of persons and events, heaped up without reference to their inner relations and classified only according to superficial and accidental marks of resemblance. His speculations are prosy, and do not touch the essence of their subject. His style is dry, diffuse, and monotonous, destitute of fire and force, with nothing to indicate that the author had a lively realization of the past. An admirer of the Roman system and impregnated with Christian ideas, he was unconsciously oppressed by the fear that he was not abreast of the times, and dreaded the charge of partiality if he gave due credit to Judaism and Rabbinism. This accounts for his misrepresentation of the Pharisees and their successors, the Rabbis, and for his false, almost caricature-like treatment of the Talmud and the literature depending upon it. He felt that the consideration of Judaism from the point of view of history at once becomes a glorification thereof, and under no circumstances did he care to incur the imputation of being its apologist.53
Graetz entertained no such scruples. In the formation of his opinions fear or timidity had no part; they did not curtail the expression of his judgment regardless of the feelings of friend or foe. He was the first to divest himself wholly of Christian prejudices in the consideration of the Jewish past; the first to try to explain the development of Judaism on inherent principles, as all similar phenomena are explained. He was thus able to distribute light and shade justly, without any attempt to gloss or slur facts. Graetz had been in Berlin but a short time when he met Zunz at the house of Michael Sachs. The two visitors had not yet made each other’s personal acquaintance. The host presented Graetz, adding in praise of him, that he was about to publish a Jewish history. “Another history of the Jews?” Zunz asked pointedly. “Another history,” was Graetz’s retort, “but this time a Jewish history.”54 And, in truth, Graetz was the first to vindicate the fair claims of Jewish history; he did pioneer work in establishing the validity of the Jewish point of view. Christianity considers the belief in the Messiahship of the Son of God and in the miracles reported in connection with his birth and death the completion and fulfillment of the Law of Moses and of the prophetical promises. Only what springs from this dogma can rise to a proper conception of God, to the heights of true morality, and is capable of promoting the advancement of civilization. Accordingly, having begotten Christianity, Judaism fulfilled its religious mission, and the loss of Jewish national independence occurring almost simultaneously with the rise of Christianity, its spiritual importance was extinguished and its historical progress arrested. Its development since then, it is maintained, bears the marks of decrepitude and degeneration--is nothing more than idolatry of the Torah and religious formalism. To this consciously or unconsciously biased view Graetz wished to oppose a faithful presentation of facts, free from partiality, personal predilections, or specious coloring. He held, that an objective, unprejudiced account sufficed to demonstrate the vitality of Judaism, asserting itself again and again in the midst of distress and persecution; continuing to develop its monotheistic doctrines and its ethical system undisturbed by the loss of a national background, and borne onward only by virtue of its spirituality and ideality; producing thinkers, poets, and even statesmen despite untold suffering; and contributing zealously to the solution of the problems of human civilization, uprooted and dispersed though its adherents were. This point of view Graetz assumed energetically and applied consistently in the elaboration of Jewish history, with the result that we owe to him our conscious acquaintance with the various aspects of Judaism in all their abundance and suggestiveness.
Besides making new sources available, Graetz gained fresh points of view and surprising information from the old ones. He was particularly successful in restoring to Jewish accounts that had become hazy or sounded incredible a freshly colored background and life-like reality, or at least in laying bare their kernel of fact, by the discovery of hardly recognizable parallel passages and proofs in non-Jewish authors. He sought everywhere, and was more or less successful in finding and inserting in their place, connecting links and complementary pieces. When he approached his bold undertaking with the courage inspired by enthusiasm, Jewish history was a vast field of debris, over which volcanic events had poured out their lava, and the centuries had scattered their dust. Here and there a gigantic ruin, some literary production, towered in solitude over the wide stretches of the pathless, dismal waste, the only guide-posts to direct the wanderer through the labyrinth of ruins and underbrush. The great creators of Jewish science, to be sure, Zunz and Rapoport, whose extraordinary deserts are not yet duly appreciated by their brethren-in-faith, had already given the world their excellent works of fundamental importance; yet the great tracts explored and made arable by them seemed no more than smaller or larger islands in a vast sea of rubbish. They did not afford vantage-ground from which the whole could be overlooked. Rarely leaving the domain of literary history, these scholars did not lead up to the positions that dominated the field. In this respect particularly Graetz proved himself a pioneer. Whatever epoch he may be considering, and however much he may seem to be absorbed in details, he never takes his eye from the grand whole. His purpose always is to clear a path through the rank underbrush, or to trace on the exposed surfaces of shattered remains the lines and veins that indicate the essential character and the trend of the historical process. He was endowed with a number of qualities that enabled him to introduce light, order, system, and classification into the chaos of the historical material at his disposal. With rare energy he plunged into the consideration of vast systems of thought, and almost without an effort assimilated and grouped them. In his learned notes he opposes varying accounts, proofs, and hints to one another, and with an adroit hand and a perspicacious mind grasps the main idea firmly and unravels the knotted thread. Finally, fear of error did not deter him from taking a decided stand towards events and persons and giving frank and vigorous expression to his views upon them. Let the reader examine the essays that serve as introductions to certain parts of his work, as, for instance, those in the fourth, fifth, and seventh volumes, and he will appreciate the unerring eye that espies and never loses from sight the motive ideas and the dominating points of view, which not merely are sketched in a general, comprehensive way, but are applied in detail. His “History” affords numerous illustrations of the way in which Graetz promoted and enriched historical research. For example, Saadiah Gaon had been discovered, as it were, by Rapoport, and Geiger had made valuable contributions to our knowledge of him, but the chapter about him in the “History”55 first fully revealed his epoch-making importance and his rich literary activity. Graetz was the first to recognize and appreciate the notable influence exerted by Chasdaï Crescas56 upon philosophy and social conditions. The great Disputation of Tortosa, of which we have a trustworthy Jewish account, was nevertheless not understood in its historical bearing and political effect until Graetz ingeniously confronted the Jewish source with Christian reports.57 The cloud of legend enveloping the enthusiasts David Reubeni and Solomon Molcho,58 whom students were inclined to regard as no more than hallucinations or phantasmagoria, he resolved into the reality of their fantastic adventures. In short, coupled with rare sagacity in perceiving the true meaning of a mutilated text and emending it accordingly, he had a remarkable instinct for piercing to the reality of facts, no matter how grotesque they might appear.
Such endowments qualified Graetz to translate the Talmudic method of thought and expression into the terms of modern feelings and views, and give a model illustration of the critical examination of the literature of Talmudic times and its use as a valuable historical source. Non-Jewish scholars and sciolists were quick to brand the apparently unintelligible or the curious passages abounding in rabbinic literature as evidences of Talmudic ignorance or rabbinic folly, and the Jews of the emancipation period, if they did not subscribe to this verdict, at least hesitated whether or not to endorse it. Graetz showed plainly that precisely the text of the historical narratives had become wretchedly corrupted and would have to be restored. Besides, he called attention to various features of the historical tradition as told by the rabbis. Either they were treated pragmatically, with their causes and results, or their presentation was intentionally biased, or layers of legend had deposited themselves about the kernel of fact, which awaited release from its envelopes. Over and above all this, he urged that the concrete, figurative expressions of the rabbis, derived from a sphere of thought foreign to us, must be translated into modern concepts. For instance, in an ancient rabbinic chronicle, the Seder olam rabba, it is reported that the war of Vespasian is separated from that of Titus by an interval of twenty-two years. Aside from the consideration that it is neither historical nor justifiable to distinguish between a war of Vespasian and a war of Titus, it is impossible to give a satisfactory explanation of the period of twenty-two years. The same incomprehensible distinction between Vespasian’s and Titus’ war occurs in the Mishna at the end of the tractate Sota. Graetz changed a single letter, ט {Hebrew: tet} into ק {Hebrew: kof}, and instead of טיטוס {Hebrew: Titus} (Titus), he reads קיטוס {Hebrew: Kitus} (Kitus), i. e. Quietus. In this way he discovered a rebellion in Palestine against Lucius Quietus. We know none of its details, but its occurrence is beyond the peradventure of a doubt. The conjecture, as simple as it is ingenious, has been corroborated by a manuscript reading.59 A narrative in tractate Sabbath 17a is no less curious: “A sword was thrust into the academy, with the words: Whoever desires may go in, but none may come out,” etc. Graetz explains the enigma thus: in the first year of the rebellion against Nero a terrorist synod was dominated by the Shammaites.60 In general, he considered the opposition between the schools of Hillel and Shammai not merely theoretic but also political, and he identified the rabid Zealots with extreme Shammaites.
“Graetz is deserving of great praise for having established this fact [the existence of the terrorist synod], until then not sufficiently appreciated. In itself it is an extremely important result, and its value is heightened by reason of the data growing out of it.... At all events, Herr Graetz has won a second distinction of equally great importance by his use of the Megilla Taanith as a historical source and his verification of its statements, even though many remain dubious.”
This is the opinion of the historian61 Jost, surely a competent judge in such matters.
Where so much light is radiated, there cannot fail to be some shadows. Graetz’s admirable qualities have a reverse side. He often permits subjective views to obtrude themselves too much, and in stating his hypotheses he is apt to clothe them in terms too positive and incisive, not heeding that events dovetail into each other; that men yield to changeful humors and motives, often of a contradictory nature; and that illogical, even irrational turns of language and thought may occasionally occur in the texts. It surely is not astonishing to find inaccuracies, human errors, and misconceptions here and there in a gigantic work of twelve bulky volumes. Faults and shortcomings vanish into forgetfulness by the side of the multiplicity of his results and the grandeur of his achievement. Perspective, life-like characterization, distinct outline, glowing color--these Jewish history owes solely to Graetz’s rich fancy. He opened up new problems, created the historical types, constructed the framework of Jewish history. But his greatest achievement, one that cannot be rated sufficiently high, is that of having procured a hearing with all strata of his coreligionists by means of his charming, easy style. He revived the consciousness of an illustrious past, glorious in spite of persecution and degradation, and the belief in a future of spiritual triumph for Israel. Energetic and ardent as his temperament was, he merged his being in the past of his race, as it were, giving devoted study to the most hidden emotions of the national soul. He associated with the rabbis, philosophers, and poets whose features and forms he draws as with companions and intimate friends. When storms are imminent in the course of the history, he is visibly swayed by hope and fear, and when a catastrophe has overwhelmed his people, he is bowed down with anguish and grief. The reader sees his suffering, and cannot withhold passionate sympathy. For instance, he trembles at the thought of the disgrace and misfortune threatening Israel on account of the aberrations of the pseudo-Messiah Sabbataï Zevi, and consoles himself with the brilliant light of Jewish origin irradiating the world through Spinoza. According to his favorite method of setting men and events over against each other and permitting them to elucidate each other by their very opposition, he sharply contrasts the two figures. He represents both as the product of the Jewish passion for speculation on the infinite, and shows how in the end both sever their connection with Judaism; the one, lured on by the will-o’-the-wisp mysticism, to sink into the abyss of deception and immorality; the other, borne upward by philosophic thought, to soar to the calm but cold heights of an ideal sage.62 His creative, life-dispensing power wafted the warm, liberating breath of spring over the dull apathy settling like an icy crust on the soul-life of the Jewish brotherhood. He re-awakened general interest in the spirit and the history of Judaism. The most popular writer in the field of Jewish science, he could boast of success phenomenal for a Jewish author; in a comparatively short time, his voluminous work, apparently intended for scholars, attained the distinction of a third, in parts even of a fourth, edition, and in its English, French, Russian, and, last though not least, Hebrew translations,63 it has become the common possession of all the author’s brethren-in-faith.