IV.

SCHOLAR AND TEACHER.

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.