: Pad i 4 2 : 2 $ bea pat) ach R specs Sacer? ES AD Sree Se BE AS Ee ew Ps Sage nae age + sp esieetcteepaniap i cn armen cera ae aa ares epee? Paste tea estat ew iets Be Fea oes peat Osa Hees See nee ge fete 3 f ~ 5 ? Lae i 7 a2 Settee sie es Pe ses eee at ar : : eo Pedaon Fat ae STOR FEH Eee A Seine ad tye Tht oer ae we Seti Gr yt ater at rs rae Pyare y Spence ta 308 ; 4 = Re bat ahr Fae Daas = 52 : ; a7 2 ; ; : : : : at : ; ie : = ; Sestae rs 43 bey : 4 a of : ; ; * te ee a3 ae Sora Pee sate erates tear oiateceeh ee vese Rae gt 4 ee sty ; : eek Severe : a epee . 2 ip pe os a peiae oS: te 3 : i , ; : : : s. 2 zi rt. :; Pets fete, erate Feit ate x): 2 J me > : airs ea ; ‘ sae Pepe." Agate eet : Hees eae ate eresy yes ye ‘ ry eT “et aA] Pee + : eeeereieis fore He si Sidi are tee Se Dy eae oreo) + c . ets Ba ce?’ as 5 " oe e *? 3 , Eyes i : ana ‘ Task, xf Sf, i pase Sete Po ee 9 2 $ , : reap serene yisemes te srivestee Tid i : ey | Pore reas ie, +e erred SN apetetys ieee se ee : See + ; sage arse athe Bay ay hee SR paGu Ss eta atau ate tis bat saa ered et fies 7 ; ; : peode seats raat sutess Pista iat Nae we She : 43335 cate sscsasell 2. roa . eockeg i : aq seat + risk, = pases: i* ea et 4 * Pee os Reaver nae HSE adhe ; give : eet Tats s¢ . g oe ee al pees ry Sri af scseytid > Sioe te. Cs ity + ad we oP yioaes sities af Ne ag $2 24 ai #2 : tA o¢ 3 53 yet Fee! . 2 site | Ben eses: 44 on poae ee - oe ‘ Sehr roe ! 3 ty > : - 3 2 +3 } ie eyo aiees se! ' ee . peat es, oh Fog ar : = +. 3 < we eo Se oes paye rs org he ors é Pye ; . Sieeisere ye: oie : : etal : ‘ : 3 r ; sepie : : es ie a et : : { ‘ f ee ‘ fetibihes ; } j : ‘ Moeoet vy ey - et ae oe eee Corner eer ae ies Pek erat te oe be elettere vlan rere exh oraress é iss 454072 See Se ae a PSs] Haass yeas reo ia oes Library of The Theological Seminary PRINCETON » NEW JERSEY Ca PRESENTED BY John Stuart Conning, D.D. PS 0S 940 Le eGo oo Tobenkin, Elias, 1882-1963. God of might Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library -httos://archive.org/details/godofmightOOtobe GOD OF MIGE BY ELIAS TOBENKIN AUTHOR OF “WITTE ARRIVES,” “THE HOUSE OF CONRAD,” ETC. “Earth, mother of us all...I cry on you.” AESCHYLUS : Prometheus Bound. NEW YORK MINTON, BALCH & COMPANY 1925 COPYRIGHT, 1925, BY MINTON, BALCH & COMPANY Second Printing, February, 1925 Printed in the United States of America by Jj. J. LITTLE AND IVES COMPANY, NEW YORK To My FatHER ia , fe Hebe i CHAPTER I. SamMueEt Discovers THE WORLD . VITl. CONTENTS BOOK ONE A CHILD OF THE PALE BOOK TWO NEW EARTH LINCOLN DREAMS AND FAIRIES Gop SPRING CAME . SCORNED Mite tiaed es Ciencias etry Rosa Karp—OTHERS PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE BOOK THREE WHAT IS LIGHT JEW AND CHRISTIAN . JESSIE GRANT . : “FATHER, WHAT Is LIGHT?” Gotp Gives His BLESSING PAGE 37 53 61 70 82 95 109 115 128 140 151 CHAPTER XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVIT. CONTENTS BOOK FOUR FAITH OF THE FATHERS SILENCE THE RoLi-CALL THe Locust FIELD A Rasgi’s DAUGHTER FORGIVENESS BOOK FIVE CLOSING GATES A TENANT THE Bic CHuRCH FATHER OF MERCIES! Ties oF BLoop PALE ALE Cy Nets inte die GOD! OF MIGHD yet Sang han PAGE 165 173 183 IQI 203 217 225 241 247 256 264 BOOK ONE: A CHILD OF THE PALE. GOD OF MIGHT CHAPTER I. SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD. b ies T was sometime between the ages of three and four that little Samuel discovered the world. Simulta- neously with this discovery came the awareness of his race; an awareness that life and living to a Jew was an entirely different matter from what it was to all other people. The world which little Samuel discovered was a typical village of the Russian pale. Its three thousand inhabitants were evenly divided between the peasants who tilled the soil, and the Jews who were the mechan- ics and merchants of the community, the tailors, shoe- makers, blacksmiths, on the one hand, and the grain dealers, grocers and hardware men, on the other. The Jews, too, kept the inns where the peasants drank their vodka. Between these two classes geographic lines were sharply drawn. The Jewish homes clus- tered about the market place where their stores and warehouses were located. The peasants lived on the 3 4 Gop oF MIcHT outer streets, where they had more room for their barns, granaries, and threshing floors. To one side of the market place, on a small eleva- tion, towered the Greek orthodox church, its green roof with gilded cupolas and crosses sparkling in the distance and visible from a great way off. It was sur- rounded by beautiful grounds and oak trees, and was set off from the rest of the town by stone hedges. The synagogue, a much older and less pretentious structure, stood at the crossing of two narrow, gray streets in the ghetto. There was not a tree nor a blade of grass in front of it. The dead were divided as sternly as the living. The Jewish and the Christian cemeteries lay parallel to one another, but there was a distance of nearly two miles between them, and different streets led to each. The Christian funeral processions started from the church. The Jewish funerals passed the syna- gogue. At sundown, on Fridays, an old Hebrew with a powerful voice would hasten through the Jewish quar- ter, stopping at every street corner and calling in a quaint singsong: “In-to-the-Synagogue!” At the sound of the man’s voice every form of manual labor would cease in the ghetto. Stores and shops would be put under lock and key. In the homes there would be a hasty donning of Sabbath clothes. Women would light their Sabbath candles and the men and boys would start off for the synagogue. At the same hour on Saturday in the Greek Ortho- % SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 5 dox church the bells would begin to boom. Every peasant, wherever he happened to be, would take his hat off and make the sign of the cross. The ringing of the bells proclaimed that the week’s toil was at an end and Sunday was approaching. The town sloped into the Niemen, the great White Russian River, whose murmuring never ceased. In the spring and summer the river was covered with rafts of lumber, huge trunks of oak and pine, that were piloted to German ports by swarthy men and boys. On the opposite bank of the river were fields and, a mile or two beyond them, the forest, a huge, massive shadow, looming against the sky. II, They—his father and his mother—kept a hardware store in the center of the Market Place. His father, David Wasserman, was tall and thin. Ever since Samuel remembered anything his father had been frail. David’s ample beard covered a hollow chest. Samuel’s mother, Sarah, by contrast with her hus- band, was only of medium height, and plump of figure. Her skin was white and her alert brown eyes were always kindly. It was his mother who was the main- stay of the Wasserman hardware business. Every Thursday was market day and the peasants from the neighboring villages would come to town and offer their grain, flax, seeds, eggs and fowls for sale. They brought with them their horses and cattle. The peasants were moujiks, and moujik was a vile 6 Gop oF MIGHT word, something no one would care to be called. Nev- ertheless the peasants interested little Samuel greatly. They interested him for two reasons: the peasants had horses and they had no schools. Their children, little boys like himself, not yet five, were riding horse- back. And there was no going to school for them. They played until they were old enough to go to work. To little Samuel this seemed an ideal arrangement, and the nearer his fifth birthday approached—the limit set by his father to his schoolless existence—the more ideal it appeared. He was in fact beginning to doubt whether all he had heard about the free life of the peasant children could possibly be true. It prob- ably wasn’t. Most likely the peasants, too, had schools for their children of which they, the Jews, did not know. He would make certain; he would in- vestigate for himself. His planned excursion into the non-Jewish section of the town was, however, postponed by little Samuel from week to week. It was not a thing to be hur- ried. To be sure, he knew where the peasant quarter lay, he had been there two or three times with his father. But there was the rub. His father knew all about the Christians. On opening the gate to a peas- ant’s hut David knew how to quiet the dog; how to get the animal to run up to him and sniff the hem of his long coat. And when he entered the peasant hut his father knew just what to say to the woman and how to talk to the men. David spoke the peasant dialect. SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 7 After several weeks of planning and wavering Sam- uel decided that the matter would brook no further postponement. He must act. Late one July after- noon, therefore, when he knew that every Jewish boy above the age of five was in school, he ran to the in- visible border line that marked the Christian from the Jewish quarter, stopped, hesitated an instant, clenched his teeth together, and plunged into the peasant ter- ritory. The street was clear of people. The haying season was at its height, and the men and women were in the fields. He passed two, three, four houses, and there was not a sign of life about them. The flap-flap of Samuel’s bare feet upon the sand ceased. He had come to the seventh house, and here there were chil- dren, a dozen or more. They were gathered in a knot in the yard. Some of the children were of an age with him, but most of them were older—of school age. There were several little girls among them, too. The girls and boys were playing together. And how they played! Several of the bigger boys had between them a dog, a big, shaggy animal, whose head they were trying to get into a bridle improvised by them from a piece of rope. The bridle did not fit, and they kept turning and twisting the animal’s head from side to side, meanwhile whooping and yelling, as peasants do when felling a tree or engaging in other equally important or risky work. The girls looked on with breathless interest. At first Samuel watched them from across the 8 Gop oF MIGHT street, then he drew nearer, and at last came up to the very gate and leaned against it. He did not re- member how long he stood there; it was so new and entrancing. He came to only when he observed the eyes of one of the little girls riveted upon him. She tittered and the entire crowd looked in his direction. The boys were shouting something to him, but he did not understand them, and stood as if transfixed. Only when several of the youngsters made a lunge in his direction did he awake to the danger. He was on his feet in an instant. He could run as fast as his pursuers, and soon reached the invisible boundary line. But he did not stop there. The peasant lads pushed their pursuit no farther and con- tented themselves with throwing stones in Samuel’s direction and howling after him in a chorus: “Jew, Jews Jew wee Iil. Samuel kept his adventure secret. The question, however, as to why it was necessary for Jewish chil- ~ dren to go to school, while the peasant lads could stay home and play and do as they pleased, troubled him. He finally asked his father about it. David Wasserman took his son’s question seriously —he took everything the child asked him seriously— and answered: “Jewish children go to school because they must know how to read the law.” “And why must they know how to read the law?” “Because,” David argued patiently with his little son, “because a Jew must get ready for the other SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 9Q world, and one can prepare for the world-to-come only by reading the law and obeying its commandments, by being pious.” “How will the peasants get to the other world, then?” “They won’t get to it,” David answered. ‘Peasants don’t go to paradise. They have no life after death. That is why they don’t need to go to school. Of what use would school be to them?” | Samuel had his answer. So there was a world-to- come. Going to school meant preparing for this other world; accumulating a “portion in heaven,” in para- dise. How envious the peasant lads would be if they knew that he, little Samuel, whom they jeered and flouted, was to enter paradise, while they would never so much as get near it. Some day when he grew up and could speak their tongue he would tell them this. Wouldn’t they be sorry! But that “some day” was a great way off. And in the meantime the harvest season was at hand and the peasant children were having a glorious time. They were out in the fields all day and toward eve- ning they would come riding home atop ot a load of unthreshed grain, or aloft a haywagon. As Samuel watched the peasant lads go by, their bodies half hidden in fragrant clover or the gold sheaves of oats or wheat, his little heart would fill with yearning. At times it even grew rebellious, and he would be on the verge of doing something rash, desperate ... Thus on two or three occasions he 1 ae) Gov oF MIGHT stood ready to exchange his portion in the world-to- come for a ride on a haywagon, but as nobody came to strike a bargain with him, the mood passed. Meanwhile the harvest was over, and the Jewish New Year was approaching. The atmosphere in the ghetto was one of solemnity which even little Samuel could not escape. Yes, life was a serious business. After the New Year came the Day of Atonement. And after that the Feast of the Tabernacles. Then the long Russian winter began—and school... Samuel was mentally preparing himself for the lat- ter EVENE 573i). Iv. He was learning new prayers and invocations daily. He could not help learning them. The prayer book was the text used by his teacher. There were prayers for every occasion. One could not take a drink of water, or a bite of apple, without having to recite a prayer. There were prayers for week days and there were prayers for the Sabbath. There were in- vocations to be uttered on the first day of the month and there were prayers to be recited on seeing the new moon. And all of them had to be learned by heart. For each there was a reward in the world-to- come. The more diligently one applied himself to “the book,’ the more magnificent one’s portion in heaven would be. One’s portion in heaven ... It was everlastingly dangling before Samuel’s eyes and made him patient and submissive... The ghetto school day was SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD II long; summer or winter it was nine to ten hours on week days. On Fridays there was a half day off in honor of the Sabbath. School was conducted in the living room of the teacher’s house, or in someone else’s living room, hired for the purpose. It was stiflingly hot in the sum- mer; in the winter the windows were covered with ice. But whether it was a cold winter morning, or a sultry summer afternoon, Samuel yielded himself up to his book with equal steadfastness and patience. He would not trifle with his chances in the world-to- — COME.) vi After a time it occurred to him to wonder whether it was not possible to omit a prayer now and then, without having it noticed by anyone, anywhere. Of course he could not inquire about such a thing. He would not confide such thoughts to anyone. But the teacher one day chose his lesson for Samuel from among the rear pages of the prayer book, where the holiday services were to be found, the services for the New Year and for the Day of Atonement—and Samuel’s questionings were answered. It could not be done. There was a “Book of Records” in heaven, in which was written down every good deed and every dereliction. Nothing escaped this heavenly system of bookkeeping, neither acts, nor words, nor thoughts. And there were no loopholes, no wriggling out of sins committed. Under each record, whether good or bad, appeared one’s own signature. The Lord God him- self had this book of records in his safekeeping. He 12 Gop oF MIGHT was ‘‘witness and recorder” . . . And He was “judge and arbitrator,” “calling to mind all things forgotten.” No, there was no trifling with prayers ... By the time he had reached the age of ten he had changed schools and teachers three times. He knew the five books of Moses and was reading the prophets. Simultaneously with this he began studying the Talmud. Vv. In the twilight hour on the Sabbath, when it was still too early to strike a match and usher in the week, Samuel’s father and his uncle, his mother’s brother, Jacob Gold, would talk together in whispers. At first it was the apprehensive manner in which they talked that caught Samuel’s attention. Later the subject mat- ter began to interest him, and he would stop in his childish dreaming and listen to their conversation. A czar had died and a new czar had ascended the throne. The new czar, it seemed, did not like the Jews. Neither the czar nor his advisers liked them, and new decrees were contemplated against the He- brew population of the realm. It was about these decrees that the subdued conversation of Samuel’s father and his uncle turned in the hour between sun- set and the coming out of the stars, when the day of rest was taking its lingering departure. Uncle Jacob was the younger of the two men in years and in spirit. He was as tall as David, but more robust. While Samuel’s father was versed ex- clusively in Hebrew lore, his uncle could read and SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD 13 write the Russian language as well. The peasants had a wholesome respect for Jacob Gold because of this, and whenever one of them received any sort of sum- mons or document, he would search out Jacob Gold in his tobacco shop and give it to him to read and interpret. In matters of religion, too, Uncle Jacob was more lax than David. He wore no sidelocks, and the ends of his thick, black beard were evenly trimmed. He went to the synagogue only on the Sabbath and on holidays, and spoke with good natured raillery about the ex- cessively long prayers which the Jews uttered three times a day. “I wonder,” he would say, “if God does not get weary of all this bald flattery.” He also made light of the many ghetto ceremonials. Jacob Gold subscribed to a Hebrew journal pub- lished in St. Petersburg, and in this journal Samuel’s father and uncle followed the progress of the decrees against the Jews, week in and week out, for years. The decrees were being drafted . . . The draft had been advanced to such and such a ministry ... It had been sent back for revision ... It had been revised and would now be laid before the czar . . . Now the czar had signed it . . . And now it was a Ukase.. . The Ukase was published throughout the empire .. . The Hebrew journal from St. Petersburg was bring- ing weekly lists of cities whence the Jews had been ordered to depart. The date for carrying out the order had arrived . . . The Jews were being driven by the thousands, by the tens of thousands from the vil- 14 Gop oF MIGHT lages, from the towns where they were born, where their ancestors had lived before them for generations, for centuries ... More decrees came. These concerned themselves with the Jews living within the pale. The number of Jewish business places must be restricted. This last decree applied to Samuel’s town. It concerned his own family ... When the season came for the various Jewish mer- chants of the town to renew their licenses, ‘difficul- ties” arose ... These difficulties, however, were overcome by handsome “‘gifts” to the city and district officials. Nevertheless a cloud descended upon the Jewish homes. The import of these decrees had reached the peasants. The old men discussed the matter gravely. The young men leered ... Rumors came like the rumbling of distant thunder. There were riots . . . In far off provinces Jews were being robbed and pillaged. There were murders. Jews were being murdered ... Weeks later the Hebrew journal from St, Petersburg confirmed these rumors ... The names of the dead were given, with their ages and occupations. People sighed, and then consoled themselves: it was far away. But it was coming nearer . . One day Samuel had occasion to pass the town hall. It bordered on the Gentile quarter. A number of peasant boys were loitering in front of the place. ‘ SAMUEL DISCOVERS THE WORLD I5 “They are driving out the Jews in the third province —did you hear about it?” one of the young peasants was saying to his neighbor, with a wink at Samuel. “‘To be sure,” the other peasant replied. ‘They are driving them out, of course they are.” “Kill a Jew and pay a fine of three kopecks,” a third quoted a popular saying, and the whole Coney laughed uproariously. Samuel lurched to one side as if he had been shucks The laughter of the peasants pursued him. . The campaign against the Jews was extending. It was spreading into the pale. Into the cities of the pale ... It embraced all Russia... The Hebrew journal from St. Petersburg had become a roster of in- dignities. Existence was becoming a nightmare. .. . A strange perspicacity descended upon Samuel. Things became more meaningful than they had ever been. There was significance in everything, in words, in looks, in faces. There was significance in the way things were said or left unsaid. His father, his uncle, people all about him frequently left things unsaid. They spoke in broken, half finished sentences, as if ashamed of someone, as if ashamed of each other. Fear lurked in them, numb, paralyzing fear... Vi. Samuel helped in the store. David’s health was growing worse. On market days he would stand along- side his father and carry out the latter’s orders. After every market day, when Samuel had waited 16 Gop oF MIGHT on score upon score of peasants, and had listened for the hundredth time to the word “Jew”—that Jews were infidels, that they were robbing the Greek ortho- dox peasants, that the peasants would some day rise and cut the throat of every Jew—Samuel would lie awake hour after hour through the night. On such sleepless nights the feeling of living in a cage would come over him. He was in a prison. The town was a prison. The world was a prison. He was chained 30...) Bound) oy on) Helpless) oir He spoke about this to his uncle. Samuel was no longer going to school, and he frequently sought out Jacob Gold in the latter’s tobacco shop. An intimacy had sprung up between uncle and nephew. Gold listened to Samuel in silence. “That feeling of being a prisoner, of living in a cage,” he said thoughtfully, ‘that is something every Jew has to get used to. One becomes accustomed to it... You, too, will become accustomed to it in time ei But it was hard to become accustomed. Matters were growing worse daily. The insults were becoming sharper. It seemed to Samuel that things could not go on that way much longer. Something would have to happen.