sion, of the
French from Russia was complimented by the Government. His muse dealt
with ephemeral themes, but his _bons mots_ are current among his
countrymen to this day. A novel sort of plagiarism was the fashion of
the time. Authors attributed their work to others, instead of claiming
the product of others as their own. Levinsohn's _Hefker Welt_, in
Yiddish, and _Sayings of the Saints_ and _Valley of the Dead_, in
Hebrew, belong to this category. But the deep student did not persist
long in this species of diversion. Wittgenstein, the field-marshal, and
professors at the Lyceum of his town, supplied him with books, and he,
an omnivorous reader, plunged again into his graver work, the result of
which was the little book since translated into English, Russian, and
German, _Efes Dammim_ (_No Blood!_). As the name indicates, it was
intended as a defence against the blood, or ritual murder, accusation.
It was the right word in the right time and place. In Zaslav, Volhynia,
this monstrous libel had been revived, and popular fury rose to a high
pitch. Several years later the Damascus Affair stirred the Jewish world
to determined action, designed to stamp it out once for all. To wage war
against this superstitious belief seems to have fallen to the lot of
several of Levinsohn's family. In 1757, when it asserted itself in
Yampoly, Volhynia, his great-uncle, by the unanimous consent of the
Council of the Four Countries, was sent to Rome to intercede with the
Pope. After six years of pleading, he returned to his native land with a
signed statement addressed to the Polish king and nobles, which declared
the accusation to be utterly false. Another uncle of his had performed a
similar task in 1749. True scion of a noble family, Levinsohn followed
in their wake, and his effort was declared to be a "sharp sword forged
by a master, to fight for our honor."

Everything was against Levinsohn when he started on his third great
work, _The House of Judah_ (_Bet Yehudah_). He found himself poor, sick,
and alone, and deprived of his fine library. In those days, and for a
long time before and afterwards, Hebrew authors were paid in kind. In
return for their copyright they received a number of copies of their
books, which they were at liberty to dispose of as best they could. Now,
while Levinsohn's copies of his _Bet Yehudah_ were still at the
publisher's, a fire broke out, and most of them were consumed.

The _Te'udah be-Yisrael_ had been p