The Witness by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz (mobi reader android TXT) 📕

More Or Less Haphazard Manner,  As Such Organizations Must Necessarily Be,

Were Better Adapted To The Governing Of A Great Country Like Russia Than A

Legal Body Which Received Its Mandate In Elections Based Upon Universal,

Equal,  Direct,  And Secret Suffrage. No One Ever Pretended That The Soviets

Represented All The Workers Of Russia--Including Peasants In That Term--Or

Even A Majority Of Them. No One Ever Pretended That The Soviet,  As Such,

Was A Stable And Constant Factor. New Soviets Were Always Springing Up And

Others Dying Out. Many Existed Only In Name,  On Paper. _There Never Has

Been An Accurate List Of The Soviets Existing In Russia_. Many Lists Have

Been Made,  But Always By The Time They Could Be Tabulated And Published

There Have Been Many Changes. For These And Other Reasons Which Will

Suggest Themselves To The Mind Of Any Thoughtful Reader,  Many Of The

Leaders Of The Revolutionary Movement In Russia Have Doubted The Value Of

The Soviet As A _Unit Of Government,  While Highly Valuing It As A Unit Of

Working-Class Organization And Struggle_.

Back Of All The Strife Between The Bolsheviki Centered Around The Soviets

And The Socialist-Revolutionists And Mensheviki,  Centered Around The

Constituent Assembly,  Was A Greater Fact Than Any We Have Been Discussing,

However. The Bolsheviki With Their Doctrinaire Marxism Had Carried The

Doctrine Of The Class Struggle To Such Extreme Lengths That They Virtually

Placed The Great Mass Of The Peasants With The Bourgeoisie. The Revolution

Must Be Controlled By The Proletariat,  They Argued. The Control Of The

Government And Of Industry By The People,  Which Was The Slogan Of The Old

Democracy,  Will Not Do,  For The Term "The People" Includes Bourgeois

Elements. Even If It Is Narrowed By Excluding The Great Capitalists And

Landowners,  Still It Embraces The Lesser Capitalists,  Small Landowners,

Shopkeepers,  And The Petty Bourgeoisie In General. These Elements Weaken

The Militancy Of The Proletariat. What Is Needed Is The Dictatorship Of The

Proletariat. Now,  Only A Very Small Part Of The Peasantry,  The Very Poor

Peasants,  Can Be Safely Linked To The Proletariat--And Even These Must Be

Carefully Watched. It Was A Phase Of The Old And Familiar Conflict Between

Agrarian And Industrial Groups In The Socialist Movement. It Is Not Very

Many Years Since The Socialist Party Of America Was Convulsed By A Similar

Discussion. Could The Farmer Ever Be A Genuine And Sincere And Trustworthy

Socialist? The Question Was Asked In The Party Papers In All Seriousness,

And In One Or Two State Organizations Measures Were Taken To Limit The

Number Of Farmers Entering The Party,  So That At All Times There Might Be

The Certainty Of A Preponderance Of Proletarian Over Farmer Votes.

Similar Distrust,  Only Upon A Much Bigger Scale,  Explains The Fight For And

Against The Constituent Assembly. Lenine And His Followers Distrusted The

Peasants As A Class Whose Interests Were Akin To The Class Of Small

Property-Owners. He Would Only Unite With The Poor,  Propertyless Peasants.

The Leaders Of The Peasantry,  On The Other Hand,  Supported By The More

Liberal Marxians,  Would Expand The Meaning Of The Term "Working Class" And

Embrace Within Its Meaning All The Peasants As Well As All City Workers,

Most Of The Professional Classes,  And So On. We Can Get Some Idea Of This

Strife From A Criticism Which Lenine Directs Against  Must Leave For

Boston That Evening; But He Finally Sent A Telegram Instead And Decided

To Remain Until The Next Night. There Were Matters In The City He Was

Intending To Look After On His Return,  And Of Course He Could Do It Now

Instead. He Felt It Was Important That That Young Man Should Be Landed

Before He Had A Chance To Do Too Much Thinking. Moreover,  He Was Piqued

That A Youngster Like That Should Presume To Consider Turning Down A Job

Like The One He Was Offering Him.

If Courtland Had Tried To Explain To Tennelly And His Uncle Just Why

This Offer,  Which Would Have Delighted Him So Much Three Months Before,

Was Hanging In The Balance Of His Mind,  They Would Scarcely Have

Understood. He Would Have To Tell Them Of The Presence Which Was By His

Side,  Which Had Been Very Real To Him As He Stood In Tennelly's Room

Listening To Uncle Ramsey That Afternoon,  And Which Had Hovered By Him

Since,  So Close,  So Strong,  With That Pervading,  Commanding Nearness

That Demanded His Utmost Attention. He Would Have Had To Tell Them That

He Was Under Orders Now,  Being Led,  And That Every Step Was New And

Untried; He Must Look Into The Face Of His Companion And Guide,  And Find

Out If This Was The Way He Was To Go!

Something,  Somewhere Was Holding Him Back. He Did Not Know Why,  He Did

Not See For How Long. He Simply Could Not Make That Decision To-Night!

He Must Await Permission Before Moving.

Possibly The Trip To The Factory The Next Day,  Which He Had Promised To

Take,  Might Give Him Some Light In The Matter. Possibly He Would Find

Counsel Somewhere. But Where? He Thought Of Gila. He Took Out A Lovely

Photograph Of Her That She Had Given Him Before He Left Her Sunday

Night--A Charming,  Airy,  Idealistic Thing Of Earth And Fire That Had

Lain Innocently Open Upon The Library Table Where Some One (?) Had Left

It Earlier In The Day. He Stood It Up On His Desk And Studied The

Spirited Will-O'-The-Wisp Face! Then He Turned Away Sadly And Shook His

Head. She Would Not Understand. Not Yet! Some Time,  When He Had Told Her

About The Presence--But Not Yet! She Could Not Understand Because She

Had Not Seen For Herself.

Tennelly And His Uncle Went Down-Town In The Morning And Took Lunch

Together. Courtland Was To Meet Them At The Factory At Three O'clock,

But Somehow He Missed Them. Perhaps It Was Intention. Courtland Went

Early. He Wanted To See Things For Himself; Went Alone First. Afterward

He Could Go The Rounds To Satisfy Mr. Thomas,  But First He Would See It

Alone.

Then,  After All,  It Was The Rev. Robert Burns Who Met Him At The Door

And Took Him Through The Factory,  Bent On Seeing Some Parishioner On An

Errand Of Love. And There Was That Strange Sense Of The Presence Having

Been There Before Them,  Walking About Among The Machinery,  Looking At

The Tired Face Of One,  Sorrowing Over The Wrinkles In Another Forehead,

Pitying The Weary Hands That Toiled,  Blessing The Faithful! It Reminded

Him Of The Morgue In That. For A Minute He Began To Think That If The

Presence Was Here In This Peculiar Sense,  Then,  Of Course,  It Was An

Indication That He Was Needed Here To Work For These People,  As Uncle

Ramsey Had Tried With Strange Worldly Wisdom To Make Him Understand. But

Then,  Suddenly,  He Caught A Glimpse Of The Face Of The Little Minister,

White Under Its Freckles,  With A Righteous Wrath As He Fixed His Gaze

Sternly On The Door At The End Of The Long Room. He Looked Up Quickly To

Hear The Click Of A Key In A Lock As The Foreman Passed From One Room To

Another.

He Glanced Down At The Minister And Their Eyes Met.

"They Lock Them In Here Like Sheep In A Pen. If A Fire Should Break Out

They Would All Die!" Said The Minister Under His Breath. His Lips Were

Trembling With The Helplessness Of Himself Against The Power Of A Great

Trust.

"You Don't Say!" Said Courtland,  Startled. It Was His First View Of

Conditions Of This Sort. He Looked About With Eyes Alive To Things He

Had Not Seen Before. "But I Thought This Was A Model Factory! Isn't It

Absolutely Fire-Proof?"

"Somewhat So,  On The _Out_Side!" Shrugged Burns. "It's A Whited

Sepulcher,  That's What It Is. Beautiful Marble And Vines,  Beautiful

Rest-Room And Library--For The _Visitors_ To Rest And Read In--Beautiful

Restaurant Where The Girls Must Buy Their Meals At The Company's Prices

Or Go Without; Beautiful Outside Everywhere; But It's Rotten,

_Absolutely Rotten_ All Through! Look At The Width Of That Staircase!

That's The One The Employees Use. The Visitors Only See The Broad Way By

Which You Came Up. Look At Those Machines! All Painted And Gilded! They

Are Old Models And Twice As Heavy To Work As The New Ones,  But We Can't

Get Them To Make Changes. Look At Those Seats,  Put There To Impress The

Visitors! The Fact Is Not One Of The Hands Dare Use Them,  Except A

Minute Now And Then When The Foreman Happens To Leave The Room! They

Know They Will Get Docked In Their Pay If They Are Caught Sitting Down

At Their Work! And Yet It Is Always Flaunted Before The Visitors That

The Workmen Can Sit Down When They Like. So They Can,  But They Can Go

Home Without A Pay-Envelope If They Do,  When Saturday Night Comes. Oh,

There Is Enough Here To Make One's Blood Boil! You're Interested In

These Things? I Wish You'd Let Me Tell You More Some Time. About The

Long Hours,  The Stifling Air In Some Rooms,  And The Little Children

Working In Spite Of The Law! I Wish Men Like You Would Come Down Here

And Help Clean This Section Out And Make Conditions Different! Why Don't

You Come And Help Me?"

The Minister Laid His Hand On Courtland's Arm,  And Instantly It Seemed

As If The Presence Came And Stood Beside Him And Said: "Here! This Is

Your Work!"

With A Great Conviction In His Heart Courtland Turned And Followed Burns

Down The Broad Marble Stairs Out To The Office,  Where He Left Word For

Tennelly And His Uncle That He Had Been There And Had To Go,  But Would

See Them Again That Evening,  And Then Down The Street To Burns's Common

Little Boarding-House,  Where They Sat Down And Talked The Rest Of The

Afternoon. Burns Opened Courtland's Eyes To Many Things That He Had Not

Known Were In The World. It Was As If He Laid His Hands Upon Him And

Said,  As Of Old: "Brother Saul,  Receive Thy Sight!"

When Courtland Went Back To The University His Decision Was Made. He

Felt That He Was Under Orders,  And The Presence Would Not Go With Him In

Any Such Commission As Uncle Ramsey Had Proposed. His Only Regret Was

That Tennelly Would Not Understand. Dear Old Tennelly,  Who Had Tried To

Do His Best For Him!

The Denouement