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1. Oh, the poor are dying of hunger, They shout their woe and bite their fingers: Meat is 28 groschen a pound, And a pound –oh! A great calamity, Stones and bones, and a dishonest wight – And a remnant from a dog that dies, Flour, potatoes, are expensive, It is a bad time, there is not a threepenny piece to be had, The day is watched with the wind. Maybe the finch will make a mistake And carry out the thoughts of the Rem”A, And the Rabbi should become the victim of the poem, “Fire, fire.” Thunder should only strike the Shokhet, that oppressor, And the butcher should only go to Janow, Then, maybe we will have meat! But only the wind knows when that might be, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, Meanwhile, they are tearing the flesh off of us! 2. Oh, the “order” in the Bet HaMedrash is just beautiful: Dirty, mud-spattered, smoke-filled and enticing, Carved stands, and cut up benches. In the summer, it is used only for card playing, In the winter, for roasting potatoes, And we should live to get a drinking bar from the wife of the Shammes! One comes there only to gorge and swill, Biting into pupiks[2], and drinking whiskey. A fig[3] to praying, and to hell with studying. Let us hope to the future, We may get a new Gabbai, The drinking bar and all its brouhaha will be swept out, Grass will grow on Mikhl's grave, If Shinitzky becomes the owner,

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Then the “order” will be simple. But only the wind knows when that might be, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, But meanwhile, we are ruled (?) By our passions. 3. From the hostel[4] – on my word – There is only one direction: to the final [sic: holy] resting place, Lame Zalman prepares the medicines, The physician has a high opinion of himself. It is said: Blessed is He who pities the earth And not: Blessed is He who pities living things. There are many levies, they only take, But the sick are left without so much as a shirt, The food that is given is next to disease itself, Without Reuven and without Simcha, let us forget, About giving the sick something to eat And the physician should not be haughty, And there should be young attendants, who have the time, Not old, lazy people, In that event, there would really be good “order.” But only the wind knows when that might be, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, Meanwhile, no hostel could get any worse. 4. For this, only hope is given – It is seven years that a Mikva is under construction, No more work is done, only funds are extracted and taken, The broker is the manager in complete control, The ‘Cheek’ – a big operator, The Rabbi – the Treasurer, There is no basis for the expenditures. Is it not more appropriate, I ask you, To have a bath in the winter, and use the river in summer, Rather than listen to all of this foolishness? But, perhaps, in a hundred years, It will become clear to the community, And nobody will really care. But only the wind knows when that might be, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, Meanwhile, we are led around like [circus] bears. 5. Everyone, individually knows about this – It is necessary to learn, and to raise children, A school is necessary, I should live,

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Every Sabbath and festival holiday, If you come to offering your prayers above, You will hear all the plans put forward, But the festival passes, And that's the end of the school, Until the next festival, we should live that long. There is no other alternative, Only to wait for a decree, From Petersburg, a new ukase, That only parents should be taught, So that later, it will become understood, That children need to be sent to class, But only the wind knows when that might be, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, Meanwhile children are educated in the streets. 6. There is no rationale for Hasidism – They are only concerned with the Divine Presence. For us, the green table takes up our time, Five cards, clothing, whatever you desire, See us rich and having money For generations white goods, satin, and of silk, Should it happen to be about something that is right, For the good of the general community of the city: The hands – like iron, the heart becomes a stone, One cannot give, there is no three-penny piece, One cannot do, time is too precious, Therefore, everything goes to ruin. Will it ever get better, only the wind knows, Maybe one day, The Messiah will come, Meanwhile brother, we are left in a quite coarse condition.

The New Lemberg Gate. Known as the ‘Cavalier.’ Near the Hostel.

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Handwriting sample of the first part of Peretz's story, “The Revenge.” It would appear that this is the first story that Peretz had ever written.

The first 8 lines, and the last 6 lines of I. L. Peretz's handwritten poem, ‘The Honest Truth,’ first version of ‘Solomon's Throne.’ This would appear to be the very first poem that Peretz ever wrote in Yiddish.

Peretz in Jail – 1899, a police photograph.

A short letter from Peretz to the folklore collector Y. L. Cohen about his folk song collection

An unknown picture of Peretz at the beginning of 1910 Standing (from right to left): Lucian Peretz, I. L. Peretz, Sholom Asch Lying: H. D. Nomberg

Chagall's Conception of a Peretz Folk Tale

1852 Born on May 18 in Zamość to Yehuda and Rivka (Riveleh) Peretz. His mother – Rivka – was born in Zamość, her maiden name – Levin. Peretz lived in Zamość till about 1870-1871.

1855 Began the study of the Pentateuch

1858 Began the study of the Gemara

1862 Sent to the neighboring town of – Szczebrzeszyn – to study away from home.

1867 He obtains the possibility to use the library of a Maskil of the city (in Zamość), were he reads, and ‘swallows’ a whole array of books in various languages.

1869 Prepares to leave Zamość, to travel for purposes of study, to Vilna – but because of the objections of his mother, he refrains from doing so.

1870 Or 1871, marries Sarah, the daughter of the Maskil and Hebrew writer Gabriel Yehuda Lichtenfeld.

1871 His son, Yaakov is born – dies at a very early age.

1872 His second son is born – Lejzor (Lucian).

1873 Because of disharmony at home, he does not live with his wife; lives in Cuzmir and Opatów, works in a brewery.

1874 Put together a folio of his own Polish poems. In that same time and also for a couple of years later, composes poems in Yiddish, which were popular in Zamość and vicinity. They were read and sung by young people. He prepared himself to be a bookkeeper.

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1875 Separates from his wife Sarah, lived for a while in Warsaw, gave lectures in Hebrew, became acquainted with writers of the Enlightenment in Warsaw. Debuts in the Hebrew Journal “HaShakhar” (Vienna, Peretz Smolenskin, Editor) with a fable, “The Comrades;” “The Owl and the Moon” in G. Y. Lichtenfeld's small book “Supplements to the Pledge.” Studies law in Warsaw.

1876 Law examinations. Is divorced from his wife – Sarah – his son Lucian remains with him. He publishes a poem in “HaShakhar” called “Dividing Wisdom” and “It Is Said to Me;” In A. B. Gotlober's “Light in the Morning,” a Hebrew poem, “Nagniel.”

1877 Together with G. Y. Lichtenfeld, published a collection of Hebrew songs and poems “Stories in Song and Various Songs.” Publishes a larger poem in “Light in the Morning,” “Kiddush HaShem.”
Took examinations and began to practice in Zamość as a private attorney.
In August, became acquainted with Helena (Nechama) Ringelheim from Leczna, is smitten, and writes her often, longer letters in Polish, Russian.

1878 Married Helena on February 14, settles himself in Zamość for ten full years a successful attorney, with an active office, which for a while employs several people. Travels wit the legal system to nearby towns.

1879 The first published notice about Peretz's Hebrew songs in ‘HaShakhar,’ by Peretz Smolenskin, after which a hiatus of several years comes, in which Peretz publishes nothing.

1886 After a recess of nearly ten years, he appears in N. Sokolov's Hebrew [periodical] ‘HeAssif,’ with a poem ‘Manginot HaZman,’ three novels and a song; in ‘HaTzefira,’ with a story, ‘HaTzitz VeNifga,’ (the editor abridged it, tore it apart, and re-presented it); ‘Hekdesh’ in ‘HaYom.’

1887 Publishes a poem, ‘To the young Jewish girl who tries to conceal it,’ in the collected works, ‘Knesset Israel.’ Writes the first version of ‘Monish.’
Because someone informed on him, he loses his right to practice as a private attorney, is greatly perplexed, remains with his wife and son, without any means of support, looks for a living.
Conducts an evening school – in Yiddish – for workers in Zamość

1888 Enters into correspondence with Sholom Aleichem in Kiev, who is preparing to produce the collection volumes, ‘The Jewish Library.’ Sends him ‘Monish,’ which is printed with a few improvements made by Sholom Aleichem, in Volume I. In Volume II, ‘Der Chelmer Melamed,’ ‘Venus and Shulamit,’ and ‘Der Meshuginer Batlan,’ are printed.

1889 Moves to Warsaw to settle there. Appears giving lectures in Hebrew.

1890 Makes a trip to the Tomaszow district with a statistical expedition. A collection of Peretz's stories appears, ‘Bekenteh Bilder,’ (‘Der Meshulakh,’ ‘Vos Hayst Neshomeh,’ ‘Der Meshuginer Batlan’), with a foreword by Yaakov Dinensohn.
Submits an application to the Warsaw municipality to be accepted as an employee.
‘Der Ta'anis,’ and ‘Der Klayner Vekker,’ appear (Odessa).

1891 Begins to work for the municipality on January 1, where he worked for nearly 25 years. Produced two collections, ‘Yiddisheh Bibliotek,’ where, among other things were printed: Volume I: ‘Inem Post-Vagon,’ ‘Shol-Bayis,’ ‘R’ Berl,’ ‘Der Neuer Nigun;’ A number of poems (‘The Prophet Ezekiel,’ ‘The Wagon-Driver’, etc.); an obituary about Mikhl Gordon, etc; the large introductory article, ‘Education,’ etc.; Volume II: ‘Hold your Mouth,’ ‘Mendel Breineh's,'‘Death of a Musician,’ ‘The Heart Yearns,’ ‘The Widow,’ ‘The Reader;’ ‘Images from a Trip to the Provinces in the Tomaszow District in 1890 (23 chapters), various poems and critiques of a variety of books and pamphlets.

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Becomes inspired by Baron Hirsch's colonization projects in Argentina, goes around with the idea of emigrating to Argentina.
His address of many years – Warsaw Zegalna 1 – becomes a central point for Yiddish literature.

1892 Poetry (A collection of poems – ‘Solomon's Throne,’ ‘he Lion's Funeral,’ short writings).
Poetry, the Second part. ‘Monish’ (A Ballad), with the footnote: ‘Printed in ‘Volks-bibliotek,’ this ballad suffered from the editor's scissor and quill, and my damned ego got in the way of my re-writing it, and good friends – to re-print it.’

‘Violated Sabbath,’ in K. Applebaum's ‘Calendar.’

‘The Dumb Woman,’ (a story), a novella in Ben-Avigdor's ‘Sifrei Agora.’
Sholom Aleichem sharply criticizes Peretz.
Makes the acquaintance of David Pinsky, which makes him very close to the upcoming launch of the Jewish Labor movement.

1893 “He who doesn't want to, will not die of Cholera” – a special pamphlet.
Several items in K. Applebaum's ‘Calendar.’
Begins to participate in the American ‘Arbeiter Zeitung’ and ‘Zukunft.’ Among other things printed there: ‘Short Stories for Big Children,’ ‘Good Fortune in the Cellar Home,’ ‘An Old Jewish Lady,’ ‘The Shtrymel.’
The time of the cholera epidemic; participates actively in the committee to fight the cholera.

1894 Produced 10 ‘Festival Posters:’ in honor of Passover, the arrow and the bow, greens for Shavuot, The Fast, The Comforting, The Shofar, Hosannah, The Hanukkah Candle, Shabbat-Oybs^[1], Hamantash. Among other things that appeared there: ‘The Rose,’ ‘The Night Watchmen,’ (a song), ‘Where do the following come: ‘He Performs for the Devil?’, ‘The Kabbalists,’ ‘The Dream,’ ‘The Miracle of Hanukkah.’

Produced a collection ‘Literature and Life,’ where among other works are printed: ‘In the Cellar Home,’ (in the ‘Arbeiter Zeitung’ it was called ‘Good Fortune in the Cellar Home'), ‘Bontscheh Shweig,’ ‘Accomapnying the Bride,’ ‘The Shtrymel,’ ‘Short Stories for Grownups,’ (10 parables) a variety of songs, original and translated. ‘Ne'ilah,’ in M. Spector's ‘Hoyz-Fraynt;’ ‘Yossel, the Yeshivah Bokher,’ and ‘The Poor Bot,’ (a collection of short stories, Vilna).

1895 Produced an additional 7 ‘Festival Posters:’ Kol Khamira,^[2] The Omer, First Harvest (Bikkurim), Tammuz, Happy New Year, Oneg Shabbat, Fifteen, (a couple of folders appeared in 1896), where among other works can be found: ‘Die Neitorin,’ ‘Dem Rebbn's Tzibbuk,’ Stories from the Poorhouse,’ ‘If someone says He's Crazy, Believe It,’ ‘Got Married,’ ‘In Someone Else's Bridal Gown.’
Produced ‘Die Yiddishe Bibliotek,’ Volume III, where the following appear: ‘The Ire of a Jewish Lady,’ ‘During the Epidemic,’ ‘Der Feter Shakhna un di Moomeh Yakhna.’etc. – Several of these cited pieces were reprinted in the New York-based ‘Zukunft.’
Published the Hebrew Collection, ‘HaKhetz’ (The Arrow), and a collection of Hebrew love poems, ‘The Organ.’

1896 Prepared a collection, ‘Folksongs,’ (42 songs) which were approved by the censor, but not produced.

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His close friendship with Dinensohn, is cemented in this year in Warsaw.
1897 ‘Weavings of Love, (Stories and Letters) in the New York-based ‘Ovnt-Blatt;’ ‘Stories of Yohanan the Teacher,’ ‘Who Loves Life, Loves Food,’ (‘HaTzefira’).
His son, Lucian, travels to Berlin to study mathematics.

1898 Sets about collecting folk songs, publishes 6 Yiddish folk songs using the letters of the Latin alphabet, in the Vienna German Journal ‘Urkvall,’ with explanations and translations.

His father – Yehuda Peretz – born in 1825 in Lubartow – passes away.

1899 Begins to work at ‘Jude,’ where he publishes ‘Eizikl Shokhet,’ ‘Bruneh the Accursed,’ ‘Nonsense Stories.’
He is arrested in August (together with M. Spector, at an illegal gathering), spends a couple of months in the 10^th Warsaw Pavilion. Leaves the fortress an even more committed revolutionary.
Began to publish the Hebrew ‘Writings,’ in ‘Toshia,’ (4 Volumes) and completed it in 1901.

1900 In ‘Jude,’ publishes: ‘If Not Higher,’ ‘Altvarg,’ ‘A Conversation,’ ‘The Downtrodden,’ ‘Hassidish,’ ‘Between Two Mountains,’ ‘The Evolution of a Melody,’ ‘HaNerot HaLalu 2,’

He suffers a serious heart attack.

1901 His 25^th Anniversary is celebrated in a grand manner on Lag B'Omer, (25 years of his literary activity – counted from his first Hebrew songs, and 5oth birthday), a group of his friends produce a complete collection of Peretz's ‘Writings.’ There are inspired articles and congratulations in Yiddish and Hebrew periodicals.
Appearing in ‘Jude:’ ‘From the Mountain on Down,’ ‘A Tailor's Purim,’ ‘At a Summer Place,’ ‘Shakhna,’ ‘Three Wedding Canopies (two red and one black),’ He, of Blessed Memory, those close to him.’
Publishes ‘A Letter from Warsaw,’ by way of Israel Schwergemit.
Finishes the Hebrew distribution in ‘Toshia,’ (4 volumes), pictures, drawings, stories.
Thanks to his heart ailment of the prior year, and this year's jubilee, he gets four weeks of vacation from the community…

1902 In ‘Jude:’ ‘The Mishnah of the Hasidim,’ ‘R’ Shlomo and His Little Stories,’ ‘he Donor,’ ‘How the Yeshiva in the Forest Went Broke,’ (A re-worked foreign motif from Chekhov). Publish by the Biehn, and Y. L. Zufelig auspices, ‘Cities and Towns,’ (‘Jude’) and ‘From Month to Month,’ (‘The Jewish Family’).

1903 He begins to work at the ‘Freind,’ (the first daily Yiddish newspaper in Russia). Among other things, he publishes thee, further folk-related stories.
A large volume of Peretz's ‘Writings’ is published by ‘Freind,’ appearing in the Hebrew HaSholeakh,’ ‘The Destruction of the House of a Tzaddik,’ – the first version of ‘The Golden Chain.’
Made his first trip out of the country for purposes of getting medical attention.
Began his continuous contributions to the Hebrew, ‘HaTzofeh,’ (Warsaw).

1904 Updates the ‘Yiddisheh Bibliotek,’ as a monthly journal, and releases 6 editions. Where, the following appear: ‘Yaakov Dinensohn,’ (A character portrait), ‘Doubts,’ (A Song), ‘R’ Nahumkeh's Tales,’ (7 chapters), etc. ‘The Magician,’ ‘It's Good,’ ‘The Dog's Seder,’ in the Petersburg ‘Freind’; ‘It's Burning,’ (One Act) In ‘Freind;’ ‘The four Good Stones,’ in A. Reisen's collected works, ‘Progress.’

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Is translated into English by Helena Frank.

1905 A revolutionary storm and waves of pogroms – writes a series of articles for ‘Der Tag’ about real issues – Jewish and general problems.

1906 In April, Peretz's ‘The Trial,’ (a drama in four acts, a variation of ‘The Golden Chain') is put on at the Warsaw Jewish Theater. David Herman takes part in the Yiddish theater production. In ‘HaZamir,’ Peretz's ‘It's Burning,’ is put on. Enters i9nto an agreement with American Yiddish theater about putting on his drama creations. Gets close to putting out three pamphlets of stories in the Minsk Verlag ‘Kultur.’

1907 Produces the first version of ‘At Night on the Old Marketplace,’ in serial form in the Warsaw ‘Romanzeitung.’
‘The Golden Chain,’ a drama about Hasidic life, in two acts. In ‘white prose,’ in the compendium, ‘The World,’ 1907, and also in ‘Zukunft.’
Under his direction, his one act plays, ‘It's Burning,’ and ‘sisters,’ are put on in Plotsk, and he puts together, ‘Champagnes.’
‘Champagnes,’ (One Act) is put on in New York.
Visits Lemberg and Krakow.
There is a large gathering at the Warsaw Philharmonic – three thousand attendees.

1908 His ‘In Polish on the Leash,’ appears (In ‘Monthly Literary Writings’).
Participates in the Czernowitz language conference (Vice-Chairman), where he appears to give reports and participates various undertakings in a row of cities in Galicia.
Provided for release ‘All Works,’ through Warsaw ‘Progress’ in 10 volumes, completed in 1913. Volume I – Folk Tales, Volume II – The Times, Volume III – Dramas, Volume IV – Adam & Eve, Volume V – Hasidic, Volume VI – Sketches and Pictures, Volume VII – For Young and Old, Volume VIII – Essays & Feuilletons, Volume IX – Old and New, Volume X – From the Home to the Street.

1909 Began to produce ‘The Yiddish Weekly’ (4 issues appeared), where his well-known article on Yiddish and Hebrew appeared.
Begins to plan a trip to America to organize a Yiddish distribution for all countries. The trip does not come about.

Closes down his historic home at Zegalna 1, and moves to Allee Jerusalimski 80.

1910 Creates a society to build a Yiddish theater.
A new version of ‘Monish’ in K.. Applebaum's ‘Theater-World.’
Published the collection books, ‘Yiddish,’ (two volumes).
Visits a variety of cities with debaters.
A triumphal trip to Kiev.
His brother Chaim-Joseph is killed by peasants. His brother Jonah-Yehoshua and sister Hessia Goldstein – are in the town of their birth, Zamość.
Begins the translation of the Megillot.

1911 A novel, ‘Dame Mit Meer.’ A polemic with the assimilation in Warsaw.

1912 Visits Vilna and other cities.
Takes an active part in the election campaign of the fourth ‘General Legislature,’ appearing at election assemblies, printed aggressive articles, and had to contend with a great deal of worry and attacks.
Published, ‘Koret,’ ‘Mottel Prinz,’ ‘In the Fresh Air,’ etc. in ‘Freind’ and in ‘Zukunft.’
Turns over (but not for long) ‘In my little Corner’ of ‘Freind.’
Partakes in the struggle during the Polish-Jewish boycott.

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A sharp conflict with his employer – the Warsaw community – because of his mixing in politics.

1913 Solomon's ‘Song of Songs’ translated into Yiddish in ‘Zukunft.’
‘The Apron,’ ‘A Dream of a Litvak Teacher,’ in ‘Zukunft.’
Begins to produce ‘My Memoirs,’ in the Vilna ‘Jewish World.’ Send an inspirational greeting to the ‘Jewish Publishing Society’ in Philadelphia, which in 1906 produced a volume of Peretz's stories in English (translated by Helena Frank).
Selected as an honorary member of the Society of ‘Disseminators of the Enlightenment.’
The last version of ‘The Golden Chain.’

1914 Produces the three-act drama, ‘The Hunchback’ (in ‘Dos Leben’).
Meets with Sholom Aleichem in Warsaw and became fast friends with him.
With the outbreak of the World War, pursuit and libels against Jews begin.
Homeless Jews flee to Warsaw. Peretz throws himself into the relief work for the homeless, Helps to found homes for children and writes children's songs for them.
Gives away valuable personal possessions from his home for the relief initiative.
Translates ‘Ecclesiastes.’
Produces two new chapters of ‘My Memoirs.’
Riveleh Peretz, neé Levin, his mother, a descendant of a distinguished family (from the Bialer Rebbe), born in 1828 – dies.

1915 Publishes ‘Ne'ilah in Gehenna.’ (In ‘Jewish World,’ Vilna).
On April 3, at 9:30AM, on the third day of Hol HaMoed Passover, he suddenly died of a heart attack.
He died while sitting at his writing table. On the table there was a sheet of paper with the first lines of a children's song:

“Shtiller, shtiller, danken vil er…”^[3]

Approximately 100 thousand people took part in his funeral.

Note:

These biographical and bibliographical facts were assembled on the basis of a whole array of sources – for sure they are not all inclusive. Without a doubt, much is missing here – but we have taken care that the most significant points in the life of I. L. Peretz and his creations were not omitted.

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An artistic postcard in the style of Peretz's ‘Seamstresses,’ portrayed by H. Goldberg, printed by ‘Hidia’ Verlag, Warsaw

He was not even that old. He was full of strength and fire. He was in the midst of a restless, full-colored work.

Peretz has died! The thought of death was so far away when one beheld Peretz. In that energetic, not-quite-entirely-gray head, in those childlike eyes, so full of capability, in the entire rich play of his visage there was so much youth, life, hope, striving, desire! Peretz – and death, Peretz – and a cold grave! What a terrifying thought!

Peretz was once received in Vilna at a holiday for young workers. The entire gathering was delirious with joy. He was still on the stairs, and they had only heard that he was coming, when they started to shout like wild: ‘Peretz, Peretz, Peretz!’ It was one single shout, like from an overfilled breast. In a welcoming address, one person mistakenly said that Peretz was sixty-four years old, so when Peretz subsequently replied, he began half-jokingly:

– I have a complaint to the speaker. He has made me older by two years. At my advanced age, this is no small matter. There is still so much to do, and here comes someone, who takes away two whole years from me…

The Complete Peretz could be seen in those words. ‘There is still so much to do…’ Such a rich world seethed and boiled inside of him. The wellspring of creativity bubbled with such life within him. And every time, newer, and every time richer horizons were opened up before the eyes. And he rushed to tell all of us, what is unfolding itself in front of him.

He was young, our Peretz, like a strong tree, which keeps on growing, and suddenly – the incomprehensible death…

Peretz has died. It is not only a writer that has died, a dramatist, a lyricist, a creator of folklore tales, a father of a new direction in Yiddish literature; it is not only a thinker that has died, a publicist, and a man of the community, not only a brilliant friend has died – a heartfelt close friend to all of us – An entire world has died. Peretz was more than the sum of all of what he did over the course of several decades. You always felt that he is richer [than that], that he consisted of something greater and more important. You always knew, that the deeper you entered into his world, the more you would discover, ever greater treasures will light up before your eyes.

And it was a joy and a source of pride to wander this very large universe, and to behold its wonder.

Peretz has died. The Jews of Russia will greet his passing with heartache. A single, great sorrow, over the death of one, will for a while overshadow the sorrow for thousands of less significant lives, that are being lost now. In the darkness of Jewish life, a great star has been extinguished.

Will the Jews of America mourn? Do they know who Peretz is? Do they love Peretz? Is he woven up in their souls? Does he touch the most idealistic strings of their hearts?

Jewish New York rustles and is humming. Streams of people pouring about. Do they feel any ache? Do they know that a great man has left the ranks of Jewry? Will they come home and tell their children that this is a special day?

The city rustles with activity, the street is humming. Has the pain, at least for one minute, darkened the light of day?

Peretz has died. It is so difficult to speak at an open grave. It is so painful to have to relate what every Jew should have known for a long time, and a long time ago absorbed as a sacred thing into his soul, into his Holy of Holies.

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Who is Peretz? This was the man who helped the Jewish people obtain greater attention for itself. This is the man who raised the Jewish people to a higher plane of human existence.

He did this, not by agitation, not through songs about ‘Atah Vekhartanu.^[1]’ He took the poor Jewish vernacular language, and said: I create from you a complete instrument, a wondrous tool for creating work, to express all the highest and most substantive, and holiest feelings and thoughts and dreams and searching, and striving, of a contemporary human soul. And that is how it became. And the language began to bloom, with flowers, and light, and sunshine and to ring with thousands of notes. And he approached the treasure chest of the people's soul, and said: I take out from you that which is the most dear and the most beautiful, that which lies hidden within you, and I will melt it down, and recast it in the form of my spirit, and I will show the world, and let it know thereby, what sort of treasures we possess. And that is how it was. And a whole menu of folk tales and folk legends, and folklore stories and folk poetry, came to fill our world, and awakened our wonder and our joy, and our happiness and our pride.

Peretz made us rich with the wealth of our own people. And Peretz did more for the Jewish people than was done in past generations.

Peretz has died. A great Jew has passed away. But this Jew did not isolate himself from the surrounding world. The Yiddishist of all the Jews, was the most modern, European man among all his young friends. Peretz nourished his mind from European culture, and his heart – from the Jewish one. He acquired what was beautiful, fine and harmonious, that manifests itself in his work. Peretz dreamed of a people, which lives its own unbroken cultural life, but into this very life, it had imported all the best, that he could find over the large, wide world, in all eras, since mankind began to create beauty and great things. Peretz personally was the golden chain, that binds the Jewish people to the larger culture of the outside world.

Peretz has died. Jewish workers will greet his passing with special pain. Because Peretz's heart always was with them, with the fighters for freedom. His thoughts permitted him to construct theories, that were alien to the workers, but his soul always beat in rhythm with the struggling masses, who are building a future in the light. Peretz helped the Jewish labor movement, not only with words, not only with golden poetry, but also with action. He was ‘our’ Peretz in the ranks of organized labor.

Peretz has died. But do not cry. Don't wail. It is not with this that we can do homage to Peretz. We have to live – that means to fight. That means to build a new Jewish life; that means to transplant all the best that illuminates mankind. To live – that means – to love mankind, to love the downtrodden and the enslaved, to help that person feel the human being inside himself, to straighten his back, and go forward into the light, to the sun…

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The committee of Jewish writers, which arranged for this memorial evening to honor the memory of the unforgettable I. L. Peretz, has accorded me the honor – to place the first cornerstone on the fresh grave, around which we have here gathered in spirit.

I have permitted myself to assume the obligation to give you a short outline, a general characterization of Peretz's life, his works and activities, in order that his image remain alive before our eyes, and in order that the great loss to our people and our literature be made clearer, as a result of his so premature departure.

I have assumed this obligation, but I did not take into account that the time has not yet come when such an undertaking can be accomplished. The totality of Peretz's life, of his literary works, and his visible activities, cannot yet be carried out, because now, we will first – all of us who take an interest in the development of Yiddish literature and the path of modern Jewish history – begin to seriously examine what Peretz has bequeathed to us, and to assess what in it is a product of the times and evanescent, and what is eternal and indestructible; what Peretz represented to his generation only, and what he became for his people and possibly for all of mankind.

This is not among the lighter tasks. Peretz's work is too multi-dimensional and variegated to be encompassed in a single glance. Peretz's soul was a wondrous organism with hundreds of vibrating nerve endings, always alert, always

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vibrating, each nerve with its own resonance. What those hundreds of nerves produced from amongst themselves was a symphony of notes, that resonate within us opposite: the general human struggle of his time, the suffering, hopes and the battle for victory of his Jewish people, the longings of his generation, the problems of his calling, the eternal esoteric questions of human thought in general.

The alert and constantly vibrating nerves of Peretz's soul would constantly and thirstily absorb all of this, and all of this elicited a special resonance within him, a very personal Peretz melody, processed through his own personally unique creative spirit.

Peretz the thinker, the artist, the Jew; Peretz the lyricist, the dramatist, the creator of the Yiddish short novel; Peretz the romantic, the realist, the symbolizer; Peretz the religious mystic, and the free-spirited agnostic; Peretz the struggler for social justice, for a democratic society, and Peretz – the intellectual aristocrat, the herald of heroic individualism; Peretz the protagonist against Hellenistic esthetics, and the advocate of a free life in this world, in which pleasure was enjoyed; Peretz, the Rashi^[2] of Hasidism; Peretz the satirist and comic; Peretz the prophet and the standard bearer of the tragic ethic.

And how many Peretzes are there, that I have not enumerated! And how many more Peretzes would have seen the light of day, if death had not called him away from us so soon! And everywhere, in all of his richly colored manifestations, he is Peretz, Peretz, Peretz – a sharp-tipped arrowhead, that slices through the air with an ominous hiss, almost always hitting its mark.

First, each of these aspects of his persona need to be examined, in which Peretz's spirit was revealed to us, before we will be able to weave them into a single harmonized image, before we will be able to recognize the true core of his soul in each of them, in which he constantly strove to reach greatness and height, ‘and even higher than that!’

Therefore, my task cannot be to even try and give a general characterization of the deceased, especially so soon after his death, especially in this small, short amount of time, which it is possible to allow for us on this evening.

Instead, I will take the liberty – to draw on your attention to a single point, which now can be made public with a specific measure of clarity and certainty – the national significance of Peretz's works. By this, I do not have in mind his opinions about the minds of our people, about the forces that influence him, about the ‘bloodstained beauty’ of his tragic struggle in the Diaspora, about the idea of his past, about the worth of his story for all of mankind, about the tasks that stood before him, and the ways that he should carry them out.

As a consequence of all of these issues, Peretz, at various times, expressed various thoughts, always interesting, even if not always absolutely correct. What I mean here by national significance, is not what Peretz thought of the Jewish people, as well as not the specific instances of the treasure in his legacy, which he bequeathed to the nation, but rather, what he became for her, what he did for her by producing all of his works, perhaps personally not being aware of the worth of what he did. I refer here to the meaning of Peretz for our national existence, and our further free development, his role in the national awakening of the people. And when I speak here of Peretz's significance to our national existence, I do not here refer to our political and national struggle against the ill winds form the external world that is hostile to us, which does not even wish to concede us the right to even live a little. I have in mind here our internal struggle; how we wrestle with ourselves, our pain-laden deliberations that stem from the Jewish-national Hamlet-problem: to exist, or not to exist in the world, to exist as a nation?

I know only too well, that thanks to God, we have a large younger generation, who cannot even conceive of how such a question can be posed. Peretz also could not understand this. To begin with, he came to the people so filled with a belief in his own life forces, that the so-called Hamlet-problem – if I don't make a mistake – did not touch his person in the slightest.

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But the fact that Peretz was free of this issue, and that we now have a large younger generation, over which the sense of national resignation has no control, is not yet an indication that the ‘To Be or Not To Be,’ problem has not stood in the foreground of Jewish thinking, or that it has now entirely vanished from the Jewish intellectual horizon.

The national integrity of Peretz's soul, its purity from any Hamlet issue in connection with our national survival, was an unusual exception in that era, and the large younger generation which today does not understand how one can even admit a shed of doubt enter one's mind about the force of Jewish life, how one can, even for a moment, become preoccupied – even if it is a shadow of a suicidal thought – this, full-of-life, certain-of-life, young Jewish generation must, however, not forget, that it came to life in a time where already, which is already suffused with that nationalistic- vital influence, which streamed out of Peretz's activities and the activities of his comrades.

It was a difficult time, a tragic time in the history of our people in Russia, when Peretz set out on his journey as a Yiddish literary figure. The pogroms of the '80s had just been quieted down, but the reverberations within the Jewish soul, which they evoked, began to spread like fire, even further, and more so. And all the disarrayed Jewish question were coalesced in the one single dark problem, which obscured every clear perception of the future: to be or not to be? To continue to spin out the independent thread of Jewish historical life, or to abandon it, leaving it to gradually weave itself into the fabric of the larger secular history and allow it to be lost without any reaction?

I want you to understand me here correctly.

The great question of national survival and assimilation had existed a long time before the pogroms. Ut it dis not exist in the form of an Hamlet-problem. This was a question with two entirely well-established answers, which were in conflict with one another. The older generation, the one raised with nationhood in mind, the religiously observant and even a large part of the Enlightened [generation], didn't break their heads over this question: to be or not to be? For them, they had a clear and vigorous reply: To be!

And the progressive generation, who with all its senses was integrated into the general progressive culture of the land, was also not particularly disturbed by the skeptical and pessimistic ailment. Just as proud, just as sharp, just as clear, and strong as the older generation, it shouted out the answer: Not to be!

First, the pogroms ripped out the certainty of the platform from underfoot. They confused the minds of both the nationalists and the assimilationists.

This was the time when the arch-assimilationist and Russifier, L. Landau suddenly detected that a chasm had opened underfoot, which had completely swallowed up his ideal, by which he had conducted his entire life; when Shimon Prug wrote his feuilleton ‘Back to Home!’, and a well-known political emigrant from Berlin, under the pseudonym Gershon Badaness, in ‘The Ascent’ wrote his ‘Messages from someone who is split off’, where he undertook , in the name of the Jewish intelligentsia to trade gifts with the Russian intelligentsia that they had engaged in before. ‘Here, take back your Nekrasov^[3], and give us back our Karl Marx!’

This was also the time, when in the air of Jewish social consciousness, the mournful tones of I. L. Gordon still rang: ‘For whom Do I Toil?’ That I. L. Gordon, who together with many of his generation hoped to create a bulwark for progressive survival in the world by means of a Hebrew literature.

‘To be?’ – the loyal children of the people thought. ‘But how?’ Where does one get the strength to put up with that sort of an existence? Is it possibly better to make an end of our national life, to eternally exhausting ourselves?

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‘Or not to be?’ – the assimilationists thought. ‘But how? What does one do, when the very earth doesn't take us? When she spits us back out?’

These two responses became transformed into two questions. And from them, the Hamlet-problem grew out. And at the time that the two directions – the nationalist and the assimilationist – were pinching themselves in the cheek^[4] – and assumed their respective colors – the extreme assimilationists – the color of the socialist revolution, which embraced all peoples, and from all appearances, us as well, and the extreme nationalists – the color of Zion, of the belief in the Holy Land, where our energies will once again be rekindled, as in our youth, – the element of progressive activists of the younger generation walked about with the poison of the Hamlet-problem in its breast.

And not only the younger generation. It is possible to demonstrate historically, that the entirety of the Jewish people, at that point in its life, stood at the crossroads between ‘being’ and ‘not being.’ The more assimilation lost in theory, it gained in strength in practical life, it began to tear away increasing amounts of youthful energy from the body of the people, as Jewish life became more dilute and impoverished.

If our nation were truly old, and had run its course, and without the internal energy to take on a further struggle, then all the fiery calls of the small camp of Hovevei-Zionists, and the first Hebraists, those who roused them from their random hither-thither plight, and pulled them with all their might from the life in a Diaspora to independent freedom, would not have helped. Our people would have expired from too great a loss of blood, which the force of assimilation had sucked from it, day-in and day-out.

But our nation lived on, apparently having within it, a wellspring of creative, seething life forces, and from within itself, inside its own being, worked out an antidote to assimilation, a life-essence, which held off, or diminished the bloodletting and began to heal the wounds, which assimilation had inflicted upon it.

The new life-essence, whom no one, or almost no one had anticipated, and had begun to circulate in its veins, disseminating the healing power throughout its entire body – was founded on and stands on the raising of the Yiddish language and the creation of Yiddish literature.

A nation creates through its best children, and this new healing power it had, against assimilation, it also permitted its best children to express, who laid down the foundation for the new Yiddish language and for the new Yiddish literature.

Peretz's significance for the national existence of the people therefore lies in this alone, in that he was one of the most important creators of the Yiddish literature; that we cannot conceive of the Yiddish literature without him, just as we cannot imagine it without Mendele Mokher Sforim and without Sholom Aleichem. W cannot here, delve into a detailed examination , as to which of our three classical writers is the greatest, but in the name of historical truth, we must aver as follows: that Mendele Mokher Sforim was for a long time nothing more than an interesting episode. Yes, if you please, a literary ocean. With his entire geniality, he would have remained a curiosity, were it not for the following development of writing in Yiddish. The existence of Mendele's work, did not yet make certain the existence of a literature. Also, Sholom Aleichem could have remained merely an episode, a rich, and richly-nuanced oasis in a sandy desert, if a tradition of creativity in writing had not started with Peretz. It appears that the onset of Peretz's creativity, like a tiny mountain stream, which cascades down from boulder to boulder, and in every place awakened keys and pools with its splashing sounds, which gleefully responded to his freedom-call, and as one with him, poured together into the currently might stream. Peretz genuinely earned the privilege from his people, that with his writing he will be bound up – not the act of enabling the creation of a Yiddish literature – he shares in this recognition with Mendele Mokher Sforim and Sholom Aleichem – but rather the uninterruptedness, the continuity of Yiddish literature, the transformation of a line of isolated episodes into a flow of development and life, which gives life and development [potential] to the people.

Yes, the Yiddish language and the Yiddish literature are the life-essence which guards us from death; they are Khayeynu VeOrekh Yamenu, our lives and the continuity of our days, as a nation, and not as a religious sect. How can

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a nation exists otherwise, and fight for its survival, how can it otherwise carry out its own historical life, when it is dispersed over the entire earth, when it does not have its own corner that the people can call its own?

Regrettably, I cannot here, permit myself to go into the entire depth of the problem, about which so much has been said in recent times. But a few more words must be said about it, because if not, the matter of Peretz's national significance will not be clear to us.

Our people have lived in exile for two millennia. What was the force that enabled it to sustain its existence for this period of time? All of us know the answer to the question. The religion was the wellspirng of its national life. This is without a doubt. But in what did the life-essence of the religion lie? Most of us believe that the life-essence laid in established religious values, and specific supernatural national aspirations about a Messiah, and the wondrous release from exile. This is also certainly true. Were it not for those hopes and beliefs, the religion could not sustain itself. But it was not through these alone that the individual parts of the people were welded into a single organism, not through them alone did it hold each individual within the confines of a nation of people. Its wondrous power of protection stood in that, which is unique to our people – permit me to refer to that half-unknown-creating collective-force, which dominates our historical life, – the unique aspect of our people, developed from the religion an establish protocol for Jewish life, Jewish rituals and customs, Jewish garb and ceremonies, which enveloped the Jew from all sides, and sharply set him apart from the surrounding world, so that he was compelled to do so, willingly, or unwillingly. With every breath that he inhaled, with every pulse beat of his heart open and demonstrating to the entire world his membership in the Jewish nation, and his solidarity with Jewish historical destiny.

The religious beliefs and hopes, – who knows how deeply they prospered in the soul of the masses? But no matter how little the soul of the masses were nourished by them, their life, every move of their lives, was purely Jewish, and it was this that sustained our existence. The Jewish life of the masses was not less significant and maybe a lot more important than the belief and hope of the intelligentsia.

From a national standpoint, the wagon-driver, who greased his wheels while wearing his prayer shawl and phylacteries, was a much more important and prominent symbol of national being, that the Vilna Gaon, who in the same prayer shawl and phylacteries sat for an entire day and studies the Torah. It is for this reason, that the wise Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev instinctively so extolled his ardently-loved people of Israel, when he heard about the wagon-driver that greases the wheels in his prayer shawl and phylacteries.

But the Jewish religion, – regardless of what its religious meaning may or may not be to the individual Jew, – has entirely lost its sway as a national force. As is the case with every nation, it passed into the purview of the individual, and no longer has any power, and can never again have that power – to set the direction for the individual's life. It can no longer compel adherence to its directives. And even among those, who believe in it today, it has ceased to play the role of a national symbol. It has gone inside, into the heart. In external culture, in language and thought, an entirely pious and observant Jew can be assimilated, entirely assimilated into the external alien ambience in which he lives. And if all Jews everywhere were to become like him, – and the religion can no longer guard against this – we would have a religious ensemble of ‘Israelites,’ but it could be possible that there would be an end to the Jewish people, if not to their existence, which might be sustained in a diminished way, there would be an end to Jewish historical life, to our greater national development.

Once again, the objective grew to confront the genius of our people: to work out a force for survival of our people, that will not prevent the infusion of European culture into our lives, that should tie everyone to the nation, regardless of what he believes of hopes, – to work out a set way of life, which should be able to sustain itself on its own merits, having its own momentum, and should grow thanks to its own innermost vital essence.

And this very new force for survival was found, I say, in the Yiddish language, and in the Yiddish literature, which sustain themselves today by their own critical mass, carry themselves forward under their own impetus, and grow, indeed, thanks to their own internal juices. A Jew, who thinks in Yiddish, speaks Yiddish, and fills his soul with the spiritual products, that are developed in the Yiddish language and Yiddish literature, is more nationally attached and

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bound to the national existence of the people that the wagon-driver who wears his prayer shawl and phylacteries. For him it is true, letter by letter, that with each breath that he takes in, with every pulse-beat of his heart, that he must demonstrate his allegiance to the Jewish people, and his solidarity with Jewish historical destiny.

As a Jewish literary figure, as one of those who created the Yiddish literary language, and Yiddish literature, as one of those ‘who enriched it with so many treasures that have to nourish the Jewish soul’, Peretz himself became a part of that historical force, that helps us sustain our life and helps us in our continuing historical development.

But it is not only with this that his national significance is defined. No matter how powerful the objective nationalistic impact power of a unique, rich literature may be – in this respect, all Yiddish writers make their influence felt, no matter what the content of their writing might be, more or less nationalistic, – we must differentiate between its prior impact, which arises from the Yiddish language, in which it is created, and that direct impact that it has, which is tied up with its national propaganda value.

A national awakening is not created solely by itself. As is the case with all historical manifestations, it must be carried forward by people, and not by individuals, but by an entire generation…it must be embodies in the thoughts and feelings of the aggressive and stormy, future-rich-laden youth. It is in the seasoning and education of that youth, which carried around the Hamlet-problem in its breast, that the great vigor of Yiddish literature lies.

Publicists and artists must play an especially important role here. The publicist must first apply logic, appealing to the understanding of the reader and listener, while the artist must influence the emotions. And how often, are the emotions almost always stronger than the intellect, and how often the thought processes are subordinate to feelings, and it is for this reason that the role of the national artist is always more meaningful than the role of the publicists and the thinkers. The man who is ardent about national life, who wishes to spin the Jewish historical thread further, is born within us out of a nationalist feeling. Nationalist thought merely declares the ‘why’ and the ‘how.’

Peretz was a thinker and an artist, and he placed both of his capabilities at the service of the nationalist re-awakening. The thinker made an impact directly through the propaganda of national thought, the artist – indirectly: by portraying Jewish life. But there is no way to evaluate the degree to which the indirect artistic path had an impact that was deeper and more powerful than the direct route of the publicist.

Peretz was a great artist, and the power of every great artist is grounded in his ability to use clear images to burn out or burn in living-vibrating feelings in our hearts. Peretz had that power within himself in a very important measure and all of his stark and sharply limned images awakened in the readers a clear and sharp national feeling, which just happened, in his time, and even on into our time, to be so necessary and remains so necessary for the young Hamletized generation.

What does that feeling consist of? That nationalist feeling is not actually made up of only one emotion, but of a whole menu of moods, anxieties, and suffering, out of which, in the end, the will to national existence crystallized.

My personal involvement, – and it just happens that in my life, I was afforded the opportunity to be close to that generation, which has, – I have no other word for this other than: pained out the national awakening in their souls. -- my personal involvement with that generation taught me, that all the new moods, anxieties and suffering, that began to seethe in its breast, grouped themselves around four clearly expressed emotions, which bound the souls of the young generation and to this day continue to elicit this attachment to the historical destiny of our people.

This is first, the feeling of compassion and sorrow, which envelopes the heart, when the entire vista of suffering in which our people find themselves, unfolds before an individual. Secondly, is the feeling of love, of simple human affection for a specific type of Jewish person, that manifests itself when one poses the question, to whom can he more easily pour out his soul – with Jews with whom he is acquainted, or non-Jews, among whom he lives? And third, is the feeling of pride, which reveals itself at the time an individual makes visible the incomparable creative power that resides within our people, the incomparably important role that our people have played in the history of mankind and continues

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to play to this day in all fields of human culture, and when he suddenly apprehends the contrast, that exists between our national value to mankind and our national circumstances [among the peoples of the earth]. Fourth, is the feeling of responsibility, when a person is so totally integrated into his people, that he not only takes pride in those things that are praiseworthy, and not only is he personally deeply offended by every offense or abuse, that are heaped upon us for no cause, but also sees what appear to be the deficiencies of his people, sees its failings and incorrect ways, and his heart is drenched in blood, and with every breath he perceives that this is not someone else's worry, someone else's responsibility, but rather that it is my worry and my responsibility, that I must see to it that it is removed from us. This is that feeling of responsibility for the life and the entire consciousness of the people, which rang with such might in the words of reproof of the prophets and in Bialik's ‘From Sorrow and Anger.’

The limited time and boundaries of my presentation today do not permit me to pause any longer at these nationalist feelings, which played such a role in the national re-awaking process of our youth. I must immediately proceed to that other, very noteworthy point, for which I have raised this entire issue.

It is truly noteworthy: as you read the work of our great classicists, Mendele Mokher Sforim, Sholom Aleichem, and I. L. Peretz, and you ask yourself, what fundamental harmonic in emotion do they elicit with their portraits of Jewish life, – it would appear to you, as if the three of them had conferred together and indeed had created a well-worked out plan, and divided the work among themselves: ‘You, Mendele, illustrate accurately how we stand in the world, what kind of a fine fix our people find themselves. Not too much! Let them have a bit of a taste of the theme of that life, which has fallen to us as our portion. And you, Sholom Aleichem, show them the simple flesh-and-blood Jew, the day-to-day man-in-the-street of ours, how he stands, how he goes about, with all his foibles, and complaints, with all his failings and virtues. Let us see if they are able to recognize their very own flesh and blood. And you, Peretz, lift up the curtain a little, which blocks the spiritual life from our people. Show them, what sort of wonderful forces roil within themselves, or have only recently stopped bubbling. Reveal to them the unlimited heavens that rise above our heads, and the twinkling stars that sparkle in them. Let us see how this speaks to their temperament.’

In reality, as we understand, these three classicists did not get together , and each one created his work out of the innermost driving forces of his talent, mirroring the same character and the character of his times, and perhaps gave not even a thought to the impact that his work would have on the process of national revival, on the struggle against assimilation and the emotions of the progressive generation.

Each one of them did their own thing. But behind each one of them, there stood the life needs of the Jewish people, as it stands behind every creative person and activist, and invisibly guides his hand. The classic period of our Yiddish literature was a protest against the ideas of the first period of the Enlightenment, which led to assimilation.

The raîson d'être of the first period of the Enlightenment consisted of the compelling need to incorporate the foundations of the progressive human culture within itself, and the compelling need to run to the [outside] unfamiliar for education and culture, and the compelling need to discredit the foundations of the old Jewish way of life. This called out the ideals of assimilation, the discrediting of every [aspect] of Jewish life in general. The first heroes of the Enlightenment period could not look at the old world in any other way, that is, the entirety of the people in olden times, except as a host of ‘unenlightened people,’ ‘fanatics,’ and ‘abandoned souls,’ and upon the small number of the educated, on the fighters and heroes of the ‘rationalism,’ as the sole representatives of the kind of person that must flee their own home, until everyone will become ‘[real] people.’ In addition, the raîson d'être was added that the intelligentsia that fled, had to reverse itself, and return home and align its wisdom and knowledge to the specific issues of the Jewish people. The Jewish people, ignoring the outmoded forms of its way of life, had to be rehabilitated in the open, progressive, knowledge-based sense, and in the minimal sense of the classical period in our Yiddish literature, had to consist of the rehabilitation of the old, Jewish world.

Mendele Mokher Sforim, Sholom Aleichem, and I. L. Peretz do that, each in his own way, according to the individual elements of their character and according to the situation of their time, in which the fundamental harmonic of their talent was determined.

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Mendele's talent was forged in a time, when the community still had control over Jewish minds, when the masses were mired in the swamp of ignorance, inhuman poverty, neglect, absolute alienation from the world, and bereft of any source of a secure, respectable living.

Mendele perceives how porous it is to demand education, enlightenment, high-minded goals from a mass that is starving and enmeshed in dreams. He sees the social foundations of Jewish life, and criticizes the ideals of the Enlightenment period with the simple maxim: ‘Don't provide for dancing before providing for eating.’ Neither a protest, nor any words of reproof, elicit the Jewish condition from him, rather endless sorrow and compassion, and that feeling is what he brings into the heart.

Sholom Aleichem's talent is established in a somewhat later period. The liberal reforms of the 60's and 70's begin to straighten out the hunchbacked nature of Jewish life a little bit. The struggle for Enlightenment has ceased, or has become weakened; elements of Russian education penetrate into the circle of religious balebatim; the economic condition improves; one becomes ‘civilized,’ a little at a time, and the future appears to portend quiet development. To all appearances, there are no great problems being created. Sholom Aleichem rehabilitates the old world, not by becoming its advocate and spokesman, who stands up for and defends it – it is not being attacked from within, – but through the way in which he portrays its Jewish-human character, that he loves, the masses, and its own special cultural life. And by portraying them in the light of his love, these images elicit the same emotions of love from us.

It is the stamp of the end of the eighties that lies on the talent of I. L. Peretz, when all of the bitterness of the period of pogroms had already entered our veins, and the problem of national re-awakening had come to a halt in life, and demanded a clear answer to the ‘To be or not to be’….

Peretz rehabilitates the old world, that is, the entire nation, in its historical sense, and he accomplishes this by taking us, rather, to the closest period of our historical creativity, to the period of Hasidism, to that period on which the arrows of Enlightenment criticism hailed down with such intensity. He immersed himself into its life, refreshing its heroically replete spiritual length and depth, he elicits, as his own breast swells with pride for the creative power of our people, and unwittingly, he awakens the self-same pride in us, and forces us to bow our heads before those who are so full of heroism in our creative Jewish power.

If one takes Mendele into our hearts, it is possible out of sorrow and compassion for the living to fall into a state of pessimistic resignation; if one permits Sholom Aleichem to influence our feelings, our hearts are lightened, and the love of the people leads to an unclear [sense of] security. But if one becomes thoroughly impregnated with Peretz, by his great sense of respect for the historic Jewish struggle, for his unquenchable thirst to action and victory, then it becomes a calamity to even think, that such a people should disappear. Out entire being revolts against such a thought, and every drop of our blood becomes ignited with that same unending desire, to carve out a standard of living for our people that will prevent its force from being splintered, not to be pulverized over the seven days of the week, but rather that it can be consolidated in a single basis of its own, that will remain in permanent parity with the bases of other peoples, working out new treasures for human progress. In this lay Peretz's special significance to the important historical process in the modern life of our people, for the process of national re-awakening.

Dear audience! I know that with this little bit that I have said here, I have not delved very far into that substantive theme: Peretz's national significance – that I have set out for myself. But for this evening, it is sufficient when we have touched upon the surface, because this alone also can give credence to our mourning and deep sorrow at the time we stand at the side of his fresh grave.

However, dear audience! Mourning and sorrow is not the only emotion that we are living through. We are now living through an heightened moment, which is given to us with the death of every man of immortal stature, a moment, when we feel that not only has something that is so precious to us vanished forever, but also that through that persona, something that is even more dear, raising his head with pride, having peered into eternity itself, and demands his right to immortality. This is a moment, in which the death of the body confronts the immortality of the spirit in the [national] memory of a people, in which an individual life pours itself together with the mystery of the creativity of an entire nation.

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