The Passion of Sacco and Vanzetti: A New England Legend by Howard Fast Page A

the only and God-given way of life in these United States? Were they not opposed to war, and had we not just finished a war to make the world safe for democracy—a war to which no decent and upright citizen could be opposed? Did they not speak sneeringly of the profit system, and were we not dedicated by God and the Constitution to an eternal system of industry which bases itself upon profits, upon the unflagging desire of one man to make more money than the next, even if he has to sweat it out of his neighbor’s hide?
    â€œThese, perhaps, are very harsh questions for me to ask, gentlemen, but I ask them so that you may be the better instructed in the practice of law. I know full well the gravity of my statements. But no man faces life until he reconciles his own actions with the situations imposed by life. This makes for gravity. It made for gravity in the case of Sacco and Vanzetti, and before today is over, they will be made to pay with their lives for the beliefs they held, not for the crimes they committed. Evidence, gentlemen, can be master or servant, as I have shown to some degree, and will show even more concretely.…”
    The professor lectured for twenty minutes more, yet when he had finished, he sensed that a very important thing he had wanted to say, remained unsaid. He had wanted to say that in a court ruled, owned and operated by the University President, the Governor of the Commonwealth and the Judge who sat in judgment, there could be no justice for two men like Sacco and Vanzetti. Yet if he had said just that, he would have closed all doors to his own future.
    The lecture was over, but still he was held rigid by his thoughts. He felt a peculiar and particular weakness that always came upon him after he had been lecturing for a long while, and he wished, as always, that he could be immediately alone; but the students crowded around him, and some of them thanked him, and others clung stubbornly to things he had said. One of them expressed it thus,
    â€œBut surely, sir, they will not execute them tonight. What can we do? There must be something that we can do.”
    â€œI am afraid there is nothing we can do,” he answered.
    â€œBut you don’t mean to infer, sir, that all of law is a mockery, that courts are worthless, and that there is no justice?”
    This shocked him. He stared at the student who had challenged him with this, a red-headed, bright-eyed lad, and suddenly the Professor became even more somber, sober, and afraid. Well, it was a time for being afraid, the Professor thought ruefully.
    â€œDid you mean that, sir?” the student insisted.
    â€œIf I meant that,” he found himself saying, “then my own life would be as wasted as yours.”
    â€œYet, everything you say adds up to injustice. How can there be justice if all forces of law create injustice?”
    â€œWell, of course, that would be another lecture, wouldn’t it?”
    He looked at his watch. He made excuses, and rushed away, shaking off the reporters who plucked at his sweat-soaked clothes and threw their eager questions after him.

Chapter 5
    F INISHED with his breakfast and half way through his second cup of coffee, the President of the University stared fixedly at the portrait of Ralph Waldo Emerson, narrowed his eyes, and belched. He belched with prerogative, if not with grace; he picked his nose in the same way; this was what someone in the English department had referred to as “the lordly simplicity of arrogance,” partly an aphorism, and in part a non sequitur. He did things that would have marked another of like venerability as a dirty old man, but his fierce and somewhat incredible snobbishness still exempted him from that designation.
    The instructor sitting opposite him finished his tale.
    â€œOnly now, only five minutes ago,” the University President said with disbelief. “It passes one’s understanding. I tell you, the Jew has erupted like a