KERENSKY’S POWER.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 1737, 6 October 1917, Page 1

KERENSKY’S POWER.

THE MAGIC OE HIS ORATORY. Vassili Nemiroviteh-Danehenko, the veteran war correspondent, whose work js well known in England, contributes to tire Rnsskoc. Slovo tlio following; remarkable sketch of Alexander Kerensky. ‘‘Kerensky not only himself burns —lie kindles all around him with the sacred lire of enthusiasm, Listening lo him you feel that all your nerves are drawn towards him and bound up with bis nerves in one nexus. It seems that you yourself are speaking, that on the plat form, in that hall or theatre it is not Kerensky, but von who are standing before (lie crowd, dominating; its thoughts and feelings. Thai n ami you have only one heart, wide as the world, and as beautiful. Kcrensl.w has spoken and gone. You ask yourself how long he ha- spoken. An horn* or three mnuues .’ On

your eonscienee you cannot .-a;., ioi time and space had vanished. They wore not. Only now have (hey returned. “Is lie a great orator;' No. Often his phrases do not touch hands across the point less and unexpected pauses. The impulse which seizes him compels him lo jump from one to another of the ideas which, with strange swiftness, circulate like a brilliant kaleidoscope in his head. Occasionally he has not time to seize these magneseian Hashes. And lie himself blinks before them. There are nnllnished periods. He has thrown away the (bought. Ho has no lime to continue it. Others, which cannot be missed, have floated up. But all the same you understood, and he does not worry about trimmings. There are repetitions, when the I bread breaks suddenly, and a fresh torch has not ye! flashed out-in I lie gloom. A complete absence of design and conception. Bui in every note heat strong and rapid pulses —sometimes to (lie point of pain, reflected In the spasm on his face. To what similitude, to what formula, can the explosive (lame of a conflagration be subjected—and boro I bore opens before you a volcano, and in seeming irregularity, without rliylbm or eonseqiienlialiiy, hurls out sheaves of all consuming fire. His face, so commonplace, grey, often tired, worn out, becomes beautiful, and conquers because, through the livid hues of murderous anathema, there suddenly twinkles a. chibl-liko smile, the melting expression of those allforgiving eyes.

“Ami, caidling that, you understand that, one of (lie leaders of the revolution, he must renounce the most terrible of its weapons —capital punishment. He has a pious belief in men because men believe in him. He loves nobility, and, seeking if, finds it in (‘very soul, and every soul becomes purer, opening to bis appeal. That is a band-shak-ing of souls, so strong that all suspicion, doubt, hesitation loses breath, and you follow him headlong, whithersoever he may lead von. “All impediments between himself and his listeners are intolerable to him. Ho wants lo he all before you, from head to feel, so that he is purled from his audience only by the air completely impregnated by his and your mutual radiations of invisible but mighty currents. For that reason he will hear nothing of pulpits, tribunes, (aides. Ho leave-; the pulpit, jumps on to the table, and when he strelehcs out his hands lo yon —nervous, supple, (iery, all quivering with the enthusiasm of prayer which seizes him —it seems to you that ho touches you, takes hold of you with those hands, and irresistibly draws you to himself.

“You ask: Is that talent? No, more than talent. Temperament? No, higher than temperament. That, I repeat, is indomitable and insatiable faith in the eternal and omnipotent truth of freedom. The madness of n martyr’s bow before its sacred promises. An impulse of such impetuous, centrifugal feeling as could, only be compared with lightning if lightning hud the thought and consciousness whore it must strike and what destroy. Such ecstasy rises at times to the realm of death, and this alone can put an end to it. “Yon follow him because you never doubt for a moment that if he calls you to a feat of daring he will himself be in front, taking on his sunken chest, his weak and narrow shoulders, all the blows of the yet unvanqnishcd monster of the evil past. Hark when he speaks of the enemies of freedom, stretching forth his puny hand. You wonder that it can hold sheaves of lightning before which yon involuntarily blink. But his curses on I lie cowards and the faint-hearted ' They burn out of the secret places of the soul all the germs of meanness and treachery. .Sometime.-, as a last blow, he bears over yoif with: -‘All words have been spoken, and now the time of the great chastisement has come,’ and you know that he will pick up

any club, however heavy it may bo, to batter in the iron skull of reaction. “He goes out to single combat with (be hundred-headed venomous monster for the enslaved nation fettered lo the cliff. For that rough Pn.mcthus, he would measure himself with the eagle of Zens, and, conquering, not rend it to pieces, but give it also to freedom: ‘Live! “Aml in that is Ids great weakness, ‘Tf he were pitiless I should call him the shield of emancipated Russia. “Isomeone espied in his countenance the traits of Napoleon. “What a slander on the self-de-nying tribune of freedom. The i self-snlislied Corsican, using it as a I' plinth for his own personal great-m-ss, that cold and selfish bookkeeper of revolution, reckoning ,d om lo hi.-, own advantage —and Kerensky. Napoleon went once on tic bridge „r A-eola. Tim I was a a exam illation for t falsir Lmp. or. lie passed k brdhoia h ci r>r,|< . not to repeat such experience a. Kerensky lias stood all his life on iho bridge of Areola, and if such a ?sapoleon fell into Ids bands lie would probably shut the robber-genius up in (lie dungeons of the i'elor and Paul Fortresri. “This noble lighter for freedom dreams not of crowns and ermine. He gives himself entirely, demanding in exchange the same sclf-sac-rilieing enthusiasm for the hapless fatherland. He Aloes not spare himself. You wonder where he, frail, feeble, and fragile as a reed, gets the inexhaustible strength for a work which no athlete could endure. “Yes, the Kerensky;* are dying for freedom, but limy do not saddle and bridle it. They are its standardbearers, not its exeenlionr-rs. “A Tribune, not a Cotidoiticre. “And shame on them who espy in Ids countenance the trails of Napoleon.”