nother version
of the affair is that Mendelssohn was ordered to appear before the king
at Sanssouci on a certain Saturday. When he presented himself at the
gate of the palace, the officer in charge asked him how he happened to
have been honored with an invitation to come to court. Mendelssohn said:
"Oh, I am a juggler!" In point of fact, Frederick read the objectionable
review some time later, Venino translating it into French for him. It
was probably in consequence of this vexatious occurrence that
Mendelssohn made application for the privilege to be considered a
_Schutzjude_, that is, a Jew with rights of residence. The Marquis
d'Argens who lived with the king at Potsdam in the capacity of his
Majesty's philosopher-companion, earnestly supported his petition: "_Un
philosophe mauvais catholique supplie un philosophe mauvais protestant
de donner le privilege a un philosophe mauvais juif. Il y a trop de
philosophie dans tout ceci que la raison ne soit pas du cote de la
demande._" The privilege was accorded to Mendelssohn on November 26,
1763.

Being a _Schutzjude_, he could entertain the idea of marriage. Everybody
is familiar with the pretty anecdote charmingly told by Berthold
Auerbach. Mendelssohn's was a love-match. In April 1760, he undertook a
trip to Hamburg, and there became affianced to a "blue-eyed maiden,"
Fromet Gugenheim. The story goes that the girl shrank back startled at
Mendelssohn's proposal of marriage. She asked him: "Do you believe that
matches are made in heaven?" "Most assuredly," answered Mendelssohn;
"indeed, a singular thing happened in my own case. You know that,
according to a Talmud legend, at the birth of a child, the announcement
is made in heaven: So and so shall marry so and so. When I was born, my
future wife's name was called out, and I was told that she would
unfortunately be terribly humpbacked. 'Dear Lord,' said I, 'a deformed
girl easily gets embittered and hardened. A girl ought to be beautiful.
Dear Lord! Give me the hump, and let the girl be pretty, graceful,
pleasing to the eye.'"

His engagement lasted a whole year. He was naturally desirous to improve
his worldly position; but never did it occur to him to do so at the
expense of his immaculate character. Veitel Ephraim and his associates,
employed by Frederick the Great to debase the coin of Prussia, made him
brilliant offers in the hope of gaining him as their partner. He could
not be tempted, and entered into a binding eng