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No. 28 / Vienna, 8 July 1904 — 25 Thamuz 5664. / 8th Year.

Dr. Theodor Herzl.

Theodor Herzl is no more!

Sunday, the 3rd of July 1904, by our reckoning the 20th of Thamuz 5664 — that is the day which our children and our children's children will yet remember with sorrow. On that day the brightest star in the heaven of our people was extinguished, the star that was our guiding point, that was our comfort and joy in the present, and that signified hope and confidence in our future. It was extinguished. And never again shall we see it, all of us to whom its mild, dear light seemed so self-evident and so necessary by the very order of nature.

And suddenly all has grown grey and gloomy, and with a cold shudder we think of those to whom this star sent the only ray of light into their dark night of suffering, before whom it shone upon the way to freedom, to redemption. Never again shall they behold him, who is plunged into eternal night; in vain are all entreaties, all tears, all the lamentation and all the despair — he has gone from us — Theodor Herzl is dead!

Theodor Herzl — Theodor Herzl! What lay for us in those two words! How we had all bound ourselves fast to him, how we felt ourselves united with him, indissolubly, indestructibly! When we saw him before us, that noble figure, that wonderful face which looked at us with the beautiful, sad eyes in which such a flame could kindle, when we heard the voice that among a thousand others was dear and familiar to us, when we saw him smile with that fine, melancholy smile which became him so well — whom did it not draw to him, who would not gladly have told him how much love he awakened! Yet we knew that in his feelings he was shy and reserved, and that we might show him but little of the great love we bore for him in our hearts. But he felt well enough what he was to us, and when at times he came out of himself, when he felt true joy or deep grief, then he could be of a devoted warmth, then he returned twofold and threefold in love what we offered him.

Powerful as in his whole nature, so was he in his feelings. But he anxiously strove to do no harm even to those who wounded him, and he never repaid his worst slanderers and detractors evil for evil. When he would not, he simply took no notice of a man. That was his way of expressing his dislike demonstratively. Even when he was sorely provoked and had to enter into polemics with an opponent, he never let himself be led into anything indelicate. Noble as his appearance was his innermost being. The simplicity and plainness of the truly great man showed itself in all that he thought and did. In that pure soul nothing petty could find a place. With the wistfully smiling calm of the sage he regarded things and men, and high as were the demands he made upon himself, so readily did he excuse the pettiness of others, even when it caused him much vexation and care. There lay, perhaps, a touch of contempt for mankind in his way of seeing, although he would never admit it. Yet even if it was there, it did not hinder him from embracing with ardent love not only his poor, restless people, but all the oppressed and unhappy. Nothing could turn him from that love. Scorn, mockery, misjudgment and calumny rebounded powerless from the bright shield of his pure life. His very opponents had to admit that his selfless devotion, his never-flagging