indestructible working powers, not in the least impaired by lack of food and sleep. Despite his modest demands, he constantly had to battle against want and distress. His nature was proud, self-reliant, and, it must be admitted, unpractical. An exaggerated sense of honor forbade his seeking help even when a petition would have been justified. He preferred to conceal his troubles. For example, he ate dry bread on many a Sabbath, a day on which it was considered a privilege to entertain Talmud disciples. Regardless of wind and weather, he would slip off into the country, a book in his pocket, in order not to reveal his helpless condition. Finally, in spite of his secretiveness, some friend or other discovered his plight, and found ways and means of relieving his distress. Of sanguine temperament, he sought and found consolation in books. Graetz managed to read and study an amazing quantity in the four years and a half of his Wollstein sojourn. His most determined efforts were applied to the acquisition of the French language and literature, his favorite studies, at that time ranking high in the scale of accomplishments. The more important works of Fénelon, Voltaire, Rousseau, and others, and the dramas of Racine and Victor Hugo he knew thoroughly. He had read Lessing, Mendelssohn, Schiller, and other classic writers of Germany, and was attracted particularly to Wieland, to whose works he devoted earnest attention. It is curious that the diary which he then kept does not contain a single reference to Goethe, as if by chance or for some reason he had remained in ignorance of the great poet’s works. On the other hand, he became acquainted towards the end of the Wollstein period with the writings of Börne, Heine, and Saphir, which vivified the proneness to irony and satire dormant in him. The Latin authors gave him most trouble. Yet he mastered Cornelius Nepos, Curtius, and several books of Ovid’s Metamorphoses and of Virgil’s Æneid. That he accomplished extensive reading of rabbinic literature at the same time, and did not neglect his Talmudic studies, is attested by the distinction with which Rabbi Munk honored Graetz, much to his surprise. At New Year 5595 (October, 1834), he was invested with the title _Chaber_, a degree conferred only upon most worthy and most rarely endowed Talmud disciples of his youthful age. But now fermentation set in, and white flakes began to rise to the surface of the young wine. Wholly self-taught, he had devoted himself to reading without plan or method, following blind chance or humoring his whims. In this way he had laid up a store of knowledge, promiscuous as well as rich. A chaotic mixture of irreconcilable, disparate ideas and opinions surged through his head, and excited tumultuous commotion in his world of thought and feeling. In November, 1835, the following entry was written in his diary: