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.”
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.