Rabbi and Priest | Page 4

sent a petition to the Czar, asking for greater liberties. Here
is a copy. Let me read it to you," and, amid a silence as profound as the
occasional bark of a dog or the wail of a child would permit, Podoloff
read the following:
"Russia, O Czar, confided to thee supreme power, and thou wert to her
as a God upon earth. What hast thou done? Blinded by passion and
ignorance, thou hast sought nothing but power! Thou hast forgotten
Russia! Thou hast consumed thy time in reviewing troops, in altering
uniforms, in signing the legislative papers of ignorant charlatans. Thou
hast created a despicable race of censors of the press, that thou mightst
sleep in peace, and never know the wants, never hear the murmurs of
thy people, never listen to the voice of truth. Truth! Thou hast buried
her. For her there is no resurrection. Thou hast refused liberty. At the
same time thou wast enslaved by thy passions. By thy pride and thy
obstinacy thou hast exhausted Russia. Thou hast armed the world
against her. Humiliate thyself before thy brothers! Bow thy haughty
forehead in the dust! Implore pardon! Ask counsel! Throw thyself in
the arms of thy people. There is no other way of salvation for thee!"[2]
Podoloff replaced the paper in his pocket, and looked triumphantly
about him. A twofold sentiment greeted the reading of this wonderful
manifesto. The younger generation were disposed to applaud it, but the
older men, those who preferred to bear the evils they had rather than fly
to those they knew not of, shook their fur-capped heads in doubt.
"Did the writers sign their names to that article?" asked the circumspect
old cobbler.
"Not they," answered Podoloff. "They valued their lives too highly. But
nearly every village in the north has sent the Czar a similar petition.
Nicholas must in the end perceive our misery, and lighten our burdens."
"Or make our existence doubly bitter," answered old Schefsky. "It is a
dangerous experiment."
"The Government will take no notice of it, unless it be to double your

taxes," said the Elder.
At the word "taxes," a new storm of wailing and imprecations broke
out.
"I could not pay another kopeck," cried one cadaverous looking wretch.
"I work myself to death, and as it is can hardly keep starvation from the
door."
"Why don't they tax the nobles?" asked another. "They can stand it."
"Or the Jews," cried a third, whose liberal potations of alcohol had
brought him to the verge of intoxication. "Let them take all they
possess. A Jew don't work in the fields. He has no right to wealth!"
Here was a topic upon which all these people were cordially agreed.
"Oppress the Jews."
There was not a dissenting voice in the room.
"The Czar has need of soldiers. Why don't he take the sons of Jews for
his wars?"
"We must sit and toil till our nails fall off, while the Jews do nothing
but grow rich."
"We'll have no more of it! Let the Jews pay the taxes."
And so the cry went on. Glass after glass of vodka moistened the
capacious throats that had shrieked themselves hoarse, and in the cry of
"Down with the Jews!" the other more dangerous cry of "Down with
the Nobles!" was for the moment forgotten.
It was with difficulty that the Elder of the commune could make
himself heard above the din.
"My friends," he finally said, "I am afraid we have made bad work of it
to-day. Should this get to the Governor's ears, I fear some of us will

suffer. I hope, however, that what we have to-day heard and discussed
will remain our secret. I trust all of you. I am sure there is no traitor
among us who would betray our deliberations to the Governor. As
regards our condition, let us be patient. We have nothing serious to
complain of. If the Czar needs money, ours should be at his disposal. If
he needs men for the army, we are his subjects and his property.
Whatever he does, is for the best. Let us submit. As to the manifesto we
have just heard, we will have none of it. Other mirs may do as they
please, but we will remain loyal to our Czar and our Governor, and live
our quiet, uneventful lives."
These words, delivered in a simple but forcible manner by the
acknowledged head of the village, did not fail of their desired effect.
The rabble, realizing the danger into which its enthusiasm had hurried
it, became but too anxious to appear on the side of the Government.
Those who had been loudest in their outcry, now meekly protested
against disloyalty, and Podoloff suddenly found himself bereft of all
friends, with the exception of