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

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

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

II.
THE APPRENTICE.

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

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