DISCOURSES OF KEIDANSKY
_By Bernard G. Richards_
SCOTT-THAW CO.
_542 Fifth Avenue_
NEW YORK MCMIII
_Copyright 1903
by Scott-Thaw Co.
(Incorporated)_
_First Edition Published
March 1903_
_The Heintzemann Press Boston_
Note
The majority of these papers have appeared in the Boston Evening
Transcript, and thanks are extended to the editors not only for their
permission to reprint the same, but also for the many kindnesses they
have shown my friend Keidansky and myself.
All the papers have undergone many changes, and numerous corrections and
additions have been made.
B. G. R.
Introductory
Heretical, iconoclastic, revolutionary; yet the flashing eye, the
trembling hand, the stirring voice held us spellbound, removed all
differences, and there were no longer any conservatives and extremists;
only so many human beings led onward and upward by a string of
irresistible words.
"Outrageous heresies," some said, yet those who paused to listen for a
moment lingered longer, and as they hearkened to the harangues, marked
the words and followed the flights of fancy, it came to them that these
dreamers of dreams and builders of all sorts of social Utopias upon the
vacant lots of the vague future; these ribald rebels holding forth over
their glasses of steaming Russian tea in the cafés, or on the street
corners under the floating red flag--that they were but a continuation
of the prophets of old in Israel.
Those who paused to listen were loath to depart and some prayed for a
perpetuation of the things that came out of a throbbing heart and
soaring mind. Faint reflections here of the outpourings of a soul, but
mayhap they will shed some little light upon the inner life of that
strange cosmos called the Ghetto and point again to the Dream it has
harbored and cherished through the harsh realities of the centuries.
"Why perpetuate these things," you wrote to me, "since that life is so
fast slipping away from under my feet; practicability is urged on every
hand, and to-morrow I may be led under the canopy, perhaps elected to
the presidency of a congregation, given full charge of an orthodox
paper, or put into a big store on East Broadway, and then, what I said
would only stand out to taunt and menace me about the life that could
not be. Besides, I may become so radical that I shall not want to say
anything." Yes, we change, and the castles we build in the air become
tenement houses, and we are either the tenants, or worse, the landlords;
but "life has its own theories," and if the fine poetry of youth be
reduced to plain prose in later years, and wisdom teach us to be stupid,
why, we are still a pace ahead and those who will come after shall put
their shoulders to the Dream and move it up at least one inch nearer to
life. "And if the dreamer dies," as you said yourself, "will not the
Dream live ever on?"
Surely! And let me send you the glad assurance that death will come
sooner than the presidency of a synagogue.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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