and highly esteemed for his disinterested and noble character, adopted the mistaken course of sacrificing Graetz to Treitschke’s aggressive charges without examining them. Confessedly he had not read Graetz’s works, yet he disposed of their author summarily as “a man without tact and fanatically one-sided, whose great learning has been rendered nugatory by the absurdity of his practical deductions.”[76] This peculiar defense of Judaism, to be sure, did not excite distressful feeling in any one, but later events prove it to have been symptomatic of the opinions and the mental constitution of the intellectual notabilities of the Berlin Jewish community. A Berlin Jew had been put at the head of the “Union of German Israelitish Congregations,”[77] when its headquarters had been moved from Leipsic to Berlin. Active and clever in practical affairs, he invested the “Union” with dignity, and stirred it up to work and enterprise. With his help all sorts of useful undertakings were executed; among them, in 1885, a plan to promote the science of Judaism, hitherto wholly neglected, along definite lines. A commission was to be appointed to make means and sources for research into the history of the Jews of Germany available under the protection of the “Union.” The project was hailed with satisfaction by Jewish scholars. It was hoped that it would eventually furnish the center from which other scientific endeavors might radiate. All hopes of this kind were early doomed to grievous disappointment. The leaders of the “Union” lacked perception of the needs of the situation; they permitted an ambitious young scholar of the Jewish faith, an “extraordinary” professor at the University of Berlin, to become the governing spirit. He was familiar with the mediæval government offices, and did valiant service in the study of documents. But he was destitute of the most elementary knowledge of Hebrew, and therefore could have no conception of the peculiar difficulties the writer of Jewish history has to grapple with. Besides, he had so completely identified himself with his specialty and with the academic world of professors that a realizing sense of the condition and needs of German Judaism was out of the question. Under these circumstances serious mistakes were inevitable. In the first place Graetz was disregarded, completely ignored, when the commission which was to organize and superintend the historical investigations was made up. The arbitrary exclusion of the only or, at all events, the most eminent historian the Jews can boast of must be considered a gross offense against good manners. What is more, the good work was thereby deprived of the best and most valuable guarantee of success. Personal animosity may have contributed to bring about the deplorable action, but that does not alter the fact that Graetz was most familiar with the field of work to be cultivated. None recognized more clearly than he the desiderata[78] that occupied the attention