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 manipulate the rooster in the customary way. Unswung and uncursed the bird had to be carried to the butcher, and only on the following day a touching reconciliation was effected.
After the Fast, a bookdealer at Wollstein, a friend of his, who usually kept him informed about new books on Jewish subjects, sent Graetz the “Nineteen Letters by Ben Usiel,” which he had longed to possess. The book again electrified him, and he conceived the idea of offering himself as a disciple to its author, whose identity had meantime been revealed. Samson Raphael Hirsch appeared to him to be the ideal of a Jewish theologian of the time and of the confidence-inspiring teacher for whom he had yearned, to obtain from him guidance and, if possible, a solution of the manifold problems occupying his mind. Accordingly, Graetz wrote to the District Rabbi (Landesrabbiner) of Oldenburg. He did not conceal his views, but clearly and frankly laid bare the state of his feelings and the course of his intellectual development. He was successful. After a short time, Hirsch addressed the following letter to him:
“My dear young Friend:--With pleasure I am ready to fulfill, as far as in me lies, the wish expressed in your letter to me. You know the sentence of our sages, יותר משעגל רוצה לינק הפרה רוצה להניק {Hebrew: Yoter mishe’egel rotzeh linak, haparah rotzah l’hanik},[6] and if, as I should gladly infer from your letter, the views therein expressed are more than an evanescent mood; if it is your resolute determination to study Torah for its own sake, you are most cordially welcome, and I shall expect to see you after פסח הבע''ל {Hebrew: Pesach haba aleynu l’tovah}.[7] But I have one request to make. In the ardor of your feelings, you have conceived an ideal picture of the author of the ‘Letters’ by far exceeding the real man in size. Reduce the picture by half, by three-fourths, indeed, and ask yourself whether you are still attracted by it. Do not expect to find an accomplished master, but a student occupied with research. If your heart still says yes, then come. I should like to be informed as soon as possible, whether I may expect you after Pessach, as I shall have to modify another relation accordingly. Be kind enough, too, if you have no objection, to let me know how you expect to support yourself here. I trust that you will neither take umbrage at this question nor misconstrue it. It was put only because I wanted to express my willingness to assist you as much as I can during your stay here, if it should be necessary. Therefore, I beg you to be as frank and unreserved in your answer as I ventured to be in my question. With kindest regards, etc.
Oldenburg, December 26, ’36.”
To this letter Graetz replied, that he did say “yes” from the bottom of his heart; that it was his dearest ambition to devote himself to genuine Judaism and its doctrines; that he especially desired to learn the methods of Talmud study, particularly of the Halakha, pursued by a man whom he admired profoundly; that as for his livelihood, the satisfaction of the most elementary needs sufficed for him; and that his parents would give him a small allowance.
In answer thereto, the formal invitation to come to Oldenburg was extended by Hirsch on February I, 1837. He offered Graetz board and lodging in his own house, with the understanding that his parents would provide for other needs, and he expected his disciple after Passover (in May). Wishing to visit relatives on the way and see the sights of Berlin and Leipsic, Graetz set out as early as the beginning of April. In Berlin the museum and the picture-gallery made a deep impression upon him. That he was a remarkably sharp observer is shown in the following accurate characterization of the preacher Solomon Plessner, with whom he became acquainted in Berlin:
“This famous man I also visited, and I found attractive features indicative of acuteness, but a neglected exterior and careless, ungrammatical speech, not guiltless of the Jewish sing-song (mauscheln). This surprises me, for his language in his sermons is pure and choice. He is between forty and fifty years old, wears a beard, and seems to be honestly and genuinely religious. But his manner is excited; he speaks with rapid utterance, all the while running to and fro and arranging his books absent-mindedly.”
In Leipsic he visited his countryman Fürst, concerning whom he reports: