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.

V.
THE MASTER HISTORIAN.

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 Candide[38] 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.