Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/essayslettersOOtolsrich ESSAYS AND LETTERS ESSAYS AND LETTERS BY LEO TOLSTOY TRANSLATED BY AYLMER MAUDE UNIVERSITY ^ NEW YORK FUNK AND WAGNALLS COMPANY 1904 SCHVrtTION ■ • L TO BE DETAINED : 20 1995 PRINTED BY BILLINO AND SONS, LIMITED, GUILDFORD, ENGLAND A' 7 PREFACE The articles in this volume of Essays and Letters all belong to one period of Tolstoy's career (the years 1888-1903). The subjects with which they deal are religion and moral duty : what man should believe and do, and what he should not believe and not do. Some of the letters are of the nature of rough essays or drafts of essays, but if less carefully finished than the longer essays, they have the special merit of show- ing Tolstoy's opinions in application to certain people and to certain definite conditions. They thus help to bridge the gulf between theory and practice. Some of the articles in this book are now published, in English, for the first time ; and most of the articles are newly translated. During their preparation I have had the great advantage of receiving repeated assist- ance from Lea Tolstoy, as well as kind encouragement. Footnotes that occur in the original are marked L. T. For those not so marked I am responsible. AYLMER MAUDE. Great Baddow, Chelmsford. [T] CONTENTS PAGE preface v i. industry and idleness .... 1 ii. why do men stupefy themselves? . . 16 iii. an afterword to ' the kreutzer sonata ' 36 iv. the first step . . . 53 v. non-acting ...... 94 vi.*an afterword to an account of relief supplied to the famine-stricken . .123 vii. religion and morality . . . .128 viii. Treason and religion . . . .155 IX. SHAME ! . 160 X., XL ^LETTERS TO PETER VERIGIN, THE DOUK- HOBOR. LEADER 167 XII. ^LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE : TO E. H. CROSBY 177 XIII. *HOW TO READ THE GOSPELS, AND WHAT IS ESSENTIAL IN THEM . . . . .189 XIV. *A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS . . . 193 XV. *TIMOTHY BONDAREF 210 [ Vii] viii CONTENTS PAGE XVI. ^LETTERS ON HENRY GEORGE . . .213 XVII. MODERN SCIENCE . . . . .219 XVIII. *LETTER TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER . 230 XIX.*PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT . . . 238 XX. * e THOU SHALT NOT KILL ' .... 202 XXI. *TO THE TSAR AND HIS ASSISTANTS . . 270 XXII. *A REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT OF EXCOM- MUNICATION 277 XXIII. *WHAT IS RELIGION, AND WHEREIN LIES ITS ESSENCE? 288 XXIV. *LETTER ON EDUCATION .... 338 XXV. *AN APPEAL TO THE CLERGY . . . 341 XXVI. THOUGHTS SELECTED FROM PRIVATE LETTERS I TWO VIEWS OF LIFE .... 365 MATTER IS THE LIMIT OF SPIRIT . . 366 THE SCAFFOLDING ..... 367 THE LIFE OF THE SPIRIT . . . 367 THE FEAR OF DEATH .... 368 THE WAY TO KNOW GOD AND THE SOUL . 368 370 The articles marked in the above Table of Contents with an asterisk (*) are not included in the Moscow editions of Tolstoy's works ; being, for the most part, prohibited in Russia. UNive Sa ESSAYS AND LETTERS INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS ' In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground ; for out of it wast thou taken.' — Gen. iii. 19. The above are the title and the epigraph of a book by- Timothy Mihaylovitch Bondaref* which I have read in manuscript. That book seems to me very remarkable for its strength, its clearness, and the beauty of its language, as well as for a sincerity of conviction that is apparent in every line, but above all for the importance, truth, and depth of its fundamental thought. * T. M. Bondaref was born a serf in 1820. In 1858 he was sent to serve for twenty-five years in the army, but joining the sect of ' Sabbatarians ' (who accept the Old Testament as authoritative, and follow the^Jewish faith in many things), he was banished in 1867 to Udina in Siberia. There, as a ploughman of great energy, he built up for himself a fairly comfortable peasant home, but again im- poverished himself by efforts to spread his doctrine of 'bread-labour.' His book could not be published in Russia, but has been translated into French and other languages. Another title Bondaref gave to his book is 'The Agri- culturist's Triumph.' A 2 ESSAYS AND LETTERS The fundamental thought of the book is the follow- ing : Jn all the affairs of life the important thing is to know, not what is good and necessary, but what of all the good and necessary things in existence comes first in importance, what second, what third, and so on. If that is important in worldly affairs, yet more is it important in matters of faith, which define man's duties. Tatian, a teacher of the early Church, says that men's sufferings come not so much from their not knowing God, as from their acknowledging a false god and esteeming as God that which is not God. The same thought applies to the duties men acknowledge. Misfortune and evil come, not so much from men not knowing their duties, as from the fact that they acknow- ledge false duties and esteem as duties things that are not really such, while they do not recognise as a duty that which is really their first duty. Bdndaref declares that the misfortunes and evil in men's lives come from regarding many empty and harmful regulations as religious duties, while forgetting, and hiding from them- selves and others, that chief, primary, undoubted duty announced at the beginning of the Holy Scriptures : c In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.' For those who believe in the sanctity and infallibility of the word of God as expressed in the Bible, the command there given by God Himself, and nowhere revoked, is sufficient proof of its own validity. But for those who do not acknowledge the Holy Scriptures, the importance and validity of this commandment (if only it be considered without prejudice as a simple, not supernatural, expression of human wisdom) may be >roved by a consideration of the conditions of human ife, as is done by Bdndaref in his book. An obstacle to such consideration unfortunately exists in the fact that many of us are so accustomed to hear from theologians perverted and senseless inter- pretations of the words of Holy Scripture, that the mere reminder that a certain principle coincides with the teachings of Scripture, is enough to cause some people to distrust that principle. I INDUSTRY A ls T D IDLENESS 3 c What do I care for the Holy Scriptures ? We know that anything you like can be deduced from them, and that they are all rubbish.' But this is unreasonable. Surely the Holy Scriptures are not to blame because people interpret them falsely ; and a man who says what is true, is not to blame because the truth he utters is contained in the Holy Scriptures. One must not forget that, if it be granted that what are called the Scriptures are human productions, it has still to be explained why just these human writings, and not some others, have come to be regarded by men as the words of God Himself. There must be some reason for it. And the reason is clear. Superstitious people called the Scriptures Divine because they were superior to anything else that people knew ; and that is also the reason why these Scriptures, though always rejected by some men, have survived and are still considered Divine. These Scrip- tures are called Divine and have come down to us because they contain the highest human wisdom. And, in many of its parts, such is really the character of the Scriptures called the Bible. And such, among these Scriptures, is that forgotten, neglected, and misunderstood saying which Bondaref has explained and set at the head of the corner. That saying, and the whole story of Paradise, are commonly taken in a literal sense, as though every- thing actually happened as described ; whereas the meaning of the whole narrative is, that it figuratively represents the conflicting tendencies which exist in human nature. Man fears death, but is subject to it. Man seems happier while ignorant of good and evil, yet strives irresistibly to reach that knowledge. Man loves idle- ness, and wishes to satisfy his desires without suffering, yet only by labour and suffering can he or his race have life. The sentence Bondaref quotes is important, not a 2 4 ESSAYS AND LETTERS because it is supposed to have been said by God to Adam, but because it is true ; it states one of the indubitable laws of human life. The law of gravity is not true because it was stated by Newton ; but I know of Newton, and am grateful to him, because he showed an eternal law which explains to me a whole series of facts. It is the same with the law: e In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.' That is a law which explains to me a whole series of facts. And having once known it, I cannot forget it, and am grateful to him who revealed it to me. This law seems very simple and familiar, but that is only apparently so ; and to convince one's self of that fact we need only look around us. Not only do people not acknowledge this law, but they acknowledge the very reverse of it. People's belief leads them (from King to beggar) to strive, not to fulfil that law but to avoid fulfilling it. Bondaref 's book is devoted to explaining the permanence and immutability of that law, and the inevitable sufferings that flow from its neglect. Bondaref calls that law the c first-born ' and chief of all laws. Bondaref demonstrates that sins — i.e., mistakes, false actions — result solely from the violation of this law. Of all the definite duties of man, Bondaref considers that the chief, primary, and most immutable for every man, is to earn his bread with his own hands, understanding by bread-labour all heavy rough work necessary to save man from death by hunger and cold, and by ( bread ' food, drink, clothes, shelter, and fuel. Bondaref s fundamental thought is that this law — that to live man must work — heretofore acknowledged as inevitable, should be acknowledged as being a benefi- cent law of life, obligatory on everyone. This law should be acknowledged as a religious law, like keeping the Sabbath or being circumcised among the Jews, like receiving the Sacrament or failing among Church Christians, like praying five times a day among INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 5 the Mohammedans. Bondaref says, in one place, that if people but recognised bread-labour as a religious obliga- tion, no private or special occupations could prevent their doing it, any more than special occupations prevent Church-people from keeping their holidays. There are about eighty holidays in the year,* but to perform * bread -labour,' according to Bondaref 's cal- culation, only forty days are needed. However strange it may seem at first that such a simple method, intelligible to everyone, and involving nothing cunning or profound, can save humanity from its innumerable ills, yet more strange, when one comes to think of it, must it seem that we, having at hand so clear, simple, and long familiar a method, can, while neglecting it, seek a cure for our ills in various subtleties and profundities. Yet consider the matter well and you will see that such is the case. A man omitting to fix a bottom to his tub, and then devising all sorts of cunning means to keep the water from running away, would typify all our efforts to heal existing ills. Indeed, from what do all the ills of life arise, if we except those that people cause to one another directly, by murders, executions, imprisonments, fights, and the many cruelties in which men sin by using violence ? All the ills of humanity— except those produced by direct violence — come from hunger, from want of all kinds, from being overworked, or, on the other hand, from excess and idleness, and the vices they produce. What more sacred duty can man have than to co- operate in the destruction of this inequality — this want, on the one hand, and this temptation of riches on the other? And how can man co-operate in the destruction of these evils but by taking part in work which supplies human needs, and by liberating himself from super- fluities and idleness productive of temptations and vices * Saints' days are numerous in Russia, but on the other hand, no Saturday or other weekly half-holiday is customary, so that the total time allowed for holidays comes to much the same in Russia as in England. 6 ESSAYS AND LETTERS — how, that is, but by each man doing bread-labour to feed himself with his own hands, as Bdndaref ex- presses it ? We have become so entangled, have involved our- selves in so many laws — religious, social, and family — have accepted so many precepts — as Isaiah says, precept upon precept, here a precept and there a precept — that we have completely lost the perception of what is good and what is bad. One man performs Mass, another collects an army or the taxes to pay for it, a third acts as judge, a fourth studies books, a fifth heals people, a sixth instructs them, and freeing themselves from bread-labour under these pretexts, they thrust it on to others, and forget that men are dying of exhaustion, labour, and hunger ; and that, in order that there may be people to sing Mass to, to defend with an army, to judge, to doctor, or to instruct, it is necessary, first of all, that they should not die of hunger. We forget that there may be many duties, but that among them all there is a first and a last, and that one must not fulfil the last before fulfilling the first, just as one must not harrow before ploughing. And it is to this first, undoubted duty in the sphere of practical activity, that Bdndarefs teaching brings us back. Bdndaref shows that the performance of this duty hinders nothing and presents no obstacles, yet saves men from the misery of want and temptation Above all, the performance of this duty would destroy that terrible separation of mankind into two classes which hate each other and hide their mutual hatred by cajolery. Bread-labour, says Bdndaref, equalizes all and clips the wings of luxury and lust. One cannot plough or dig wells dressed in fine clothes, with clean hands, and nourishing one's self on delicate food. Work at one sacred occupation, common to all, will draw men together. Bread-labour, Bdndaref says, will restore reason to those who have lost it by standing aside from the life natural to man, and will give happiness and content to those engaged INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 7 in work undoubtedly useful, and appointed by God Himself and by the laws of Nature. Bread-labour, says Bondaref, is a medicine to save mankind. If men acknowledged this first-born law as an unalterable law of God — if each one admitted bread- labour (to feed himself by the work of his own hands) to be his inexorable duty — all men would unite in belief in one God and in love one to another, and the suffer- ings which now weigh us down would be destroyed. We are so accustomed to a way of life which assumes the opposite of this — namely, assumes that riches (means to avoid bread-labour) represent either a blessing from God or a higher social status — that, without analysing Bondaref s proposition, we wish to consider it narrow, one-sided, empty, and stupid. But we must examine his position carefully, and consider whether it be just or not. We weigh all kinds of religious and political theories. Let us weigh Bondarefs also as a theory. Let us con- sider what the result will be if, in accord with his thought, the influence of religious teaching is directed to the elucidation of this commandment, and all men are brought to admit this sacred, first-born law of labour. All will then work, and eat the fruit of their own labours. Corn and articles of primary necessity will cease to be objects of purchase or sale. What will be the result ? The result will be that men will not perish from want. If from unfortunate circumstances one man fails to grow enough food for himself and his family, someone else, who from fortunate circumstances has grown too much, will supply the lack ; and will do so the more readily because there is no other use for his corn, it being no longer an article of commerce. Then men will not be tempted by want to get their bread by cunning or by violence. And not being so tempted, they will not use cunning or violence ; the need that now compels them will no longer exist. If a man then still uses cunning or violence, it will 8 ESSAYS AND LETTERS be because be loves such ways, and not because they are necessary to him — as at present. Nor will it be necessary for the weak — those who, for some reason, are unable to earn their bread, or who have lost it in any way — to sell themselves, their labour, or sometimes even their souls, for bread. There will not be the present general striving to free one's self from bread-labour and to put it on to others — a striving to crush the weak with overwork and to free the strong from all work. | There will not be that tendency which now directs the greatest efforts of men's minds, not towards lighten- ing the labour of the workers, but towards lightening and embellishing the idleness of the idlers. The participation of all in bread-labour, and its recognition as first among human affairs, will accomplish what would be achieved by taking a cart, which stupid people were hauling along upside down, and turning it over on to its wheels. The cart would be saved from breaking, and would move easily. And our life, with its contempt for, and rejection of, bread-labour, and our attempts at reforming that false life, are like a cart drawn along with its wheels in the air. All our reforms are useless till we turn the cart over and stand it right way up. Such is Bondaref's thought, with which I fully agree. The matter presents itself to me again as follows. There was a time when people ate one another. The consciousness of unity among men developed until that became impossible, and they ceased to eat each other. Then came a time when people seized the fruits of labour by violence from their fellows, and made slaves of men. But consciousness developed till that also became impossible. Violence, though still practised in hidden ways, has been destroyed in its grosser forms : men no longer openly seize the fruits of one another's labour. In our day the form of violence practised is, that some people take advantage of the needs of others to exploit them In B unlareFs opinion the time is near when there will be such a INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 9 perception of human unity that men will feel it impossible to take advantage of the need, the hunger, and the cold of others to exploit them ; and when men, acknowledging the law of bread-labour as binding on everyone, will recognise it as their bounden duty, without selling articles of prime necessity, to feed, clothe, and warm one another in case of need. Approaching the matter from another side, I look at this problem of Brindaref s thus : We often hear reflec- tions on the insufficiency of merely negative laws or commandments — i.e., of rules telling us what not to do. People say, We need positive laws or commandments — rules telling us what to do. The five commandments of Christ — (1) to consider no one insignificant or in- sane, and to be angry with no one ; (2) not to consider sexual intercourse as a matter of pleasure, nor to leave the wife or husband with whom one has once united ; (3) to take no oaths to anyone, and not to give away one's freedom ; (4) to endure injuries and violence, and not to resist them by violence ; and (5) to consider no man an enemy, but to love enemies as friends — it is said that these five commandments of Christ's all tell only what should not be done, but that there are no commandments or laws telling what should be done. And, indeed, it may seem strange that in Christ's teaching there are no equally definite commandments telling us what we ought to do. But this seems strange only to those who do not believe Christ's real teaching, which is contained, not in five commandments, but in the teaching of truth itself. The teaching of truth expressed by Christ is not con- tained in laws and commandments, but in one thing only — the meaning given to life. And that meaning is, that life and the blessing of life are not to be found in personal happiness, as people generally suppose, but in the service of God and man. And this is not a command which must be obeyed to gain a reward, nor is it a mystical expression of something mysterious and unin- telligible, but it is the elucidation of a law of life previ- ously concealed ; it is the indication of the fact that 10 ESSAYS AND LETTERS life can be a blessing only when this truth is understood. And, therefore, the whole positive teaching of Christ is expressed in this one thing : Love God, and thy neigh- bour as thyself. And no expositions of that precept are possible. It is one, because it contains all. The law and commandments of Christ, like the Jewish and Buddhist laws and commandments, are but indications of cases in which the snares of the world turn men aside from a true understanding of life. And that is why there may be many laws and many commandments, but the positive teaching of life — of what should be done — must and can be only one. The life of each man is a movement somewhere : whether he will or not, he moves, he lives. Christ shows man the road, and at the same time indicates the paths leading from the right road — paths which lead astray. Of such indications there may be many — they are the commandments. Christ gives five such commandments, and those He gave are such that up to the present not one can with advantage be added or spared. But only one direction showing the road is given, for there can be but one straight line showing a certain direction. Therefore the idea that in Christ's teaching there are only negative commands and no positive ones seems true only to those who do not know, or do not believe, in the teaching of truth itself— the direction of the true path of life indicated by Christ. Believers in the truth of the path of life shown by Jesus will not seek for positive commandments in His teaching. All positive activity flowing from the teaching of the true path of life — most diverse as that activity may be — is always clearly and indubitably defined for them. Believers in that path of life are, In Christ's simile, like an abundant spring of living water. All their activity is like the course of water, which flows every- where regardless of obstacles. A man believing in the teaching of Christ can as little ask what positive com- mands he is to obey as a stream of water, bursting from the ground, could ask the question. It flows, watering INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 11 the earth, grass, trees, birds, animals, and men. And a man who believes Christ's teaching of life does likewise. A believer in the teaching of Jesus will not ask what he is to do. Love, which becomes the motive-force of his life, will surely and inevitably show him where to act, and what to do first and what afterwards. Not to speak of indications Christ's teaching is full of, showing that the first and most necessary activity of love is to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, and help the poor and the prisoners, — our reason, conscience, and feelings all impel us (before undertaking any other service of love to living men) first to sustain life in our brethren by saving them from sufferings and death that threaten them in their too arduous struggles with Nature. That is to say, we are called on to share the labour needful for the life of man — the primary, rough, heavy labour on the land. As a spring cannot question where its waters are to flow — upwards, splashing the grass and the leaves of the trees, or downwards to the roots of the grass and trees — so a believer in the teaching of truth cannot ask what he must do first — whether to teach people, defend them, amuse them, supply them with the pleasures of life, or save them from perishing of want. And just as water from a spring flows along the surface and fills ponds and gives drink to animals and men, only after it has soaked the ground, so a believer in the teaching of truth can serve less urgent human demands only after he has satisfied the primary demand : has helped to feed men, and to save them from perishing in their struggle against want. A man following the teaching of truth and love, not in words but in deeds, cannot mistake where first to direct his efforts. A man who sees the meaning of his life in service to others can never make such a blunder as to begin to serve hungry and naked humanity by forging cannon, manufacturing elegant ornaments, or playing the violin or the piano. Love cannot be stupid. As love for one man would not let us read novels to 12 ESSAYS AND LETTERS him who was starving, or hang- costly earrings on him who was naked, so love for mankind will not let us serve it by amusing the well-fed while we leave the cold and hungry to die of want. True love, love not merely in words hut in deeds, cannot be stupid— it is the one thing giving true per- ception and wisdom. And, therefore, a man penetrated by love will not make a mistake, but will be sure to do first what love of man first requires : he will do what maintains the life of the hungry, the cold, and the heavy-laden, and that is all done by a direct struggle with Nature. Only he who wishes to deceive himself and others, can, while men are in danger, struggling against want, stand aside from helping them, and, while he adds to their burden, assure himself and those who perish before his eyes, that he is occupied, or is devising means to save them. No sincere man who sees that the purpose of his life is to serve others will say that. Or if he says it, he will' find in his conscience no confirmation of his de- lusion, but will have to seek it in the insidious doctrine of the division of labour. In all expressions of tru« human wisdom, from Confucius to Mohammed, he will find one and the same truth (and will find it most forcibly in the Gospels) — a summons to serve man not according to the theory of the division of labour, but in the simplest, most natural, and only necessary way : he will find a demand to serve the sick, the prisoners, the hungry, and the naked. And help to the sick, the prisoners, the hungry, and the naked, can be rendered only by one's own immediate direct labour — for the sick, hungry, and naked do not wait, but die of hunger and cold. His own life, which consists of service to others, will guide a man confessing the teaching of truth, to that primary law expressed at the commencement of Genesis, ' In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread/ which liondaref calls "' first-born ' and puts forward as a positive command. INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 13 And positive that law really is, for those who do not acknowledge the meaning of life which Christ disclosed. Such it was for men before Christ, and such it remains for those who do not acknowledge Christ's teaching. It demands that everyone should — according to the law of God expressed in the Bible and in our reason — feed himself by his own labour. That law was positive, and such it remains till the meaning of life is revealed to man by the teaching of truth. But from the plane of the higher consciousness of life disclosed by Christ, the law of bread-labour, remain- ing true as before, fits into Christ's one positive teach- ing of service to man ; and must be regarded no longer as positive, but as negative. That law, from the Chris- tian point of view, merely indicates an ancient snare, and tells men what they should avoid in order not to stray from the path of true life. For a follower of the Old Testament who does not acknowledge this teaching of truth, this law means : ( Produce thy bread by the labour of thine own hands/ But for a Christian its meaning is negative. To him this law says : ' Do not suppose it possible to serve men while you consume what others labour to produce, and do not produce your own maintenance with your own hands.' This law, for a Christian, is an indication of one of the most ancient and terrible of the temptations from which mankind suffers. Against that temptation (terrible in its consequences, and so old that it is hard for us to admit that it is not a natural characteristic of man, but a deception) this teaching of Bdndaref is directed — a teaching equally obligatory on a believer in the Old Testament, on a Christian who believes in the Gospels, and on him who disbelieves in the Bible and follows only common-sense. There is much I could and would write to prove the truth of this position and overthrow the various and complex arguments against it which rise to the lips of us all ; we know we are to blame, and are therefore always ready with justifications. But however much I 14 ESSAYS AND LETTERS may write, however well I may write, and however logically exact I may be, I shall not convince my reader, so long as his intellect is pitted against mine and his heart remains cold. And that is why I ask you, reader, to check for awhile the activity of your intellect, and not to argue nor to demonstrate, but to ask only your heart. Who- ever you may be, however gifted, however kind to those about you, however circumstanced, can you sit un- moved over your tea, your dinner, your political, artistic, scientific, medical, or educational affairs, while you hear or see at your door a hungry, cold, sick, suffering man? No. Yet they are always there, If not at the door, then ten yards or ten miles away. They are there, and you know it. And you cannot be at peace — cannot have pleasure which is not poisoned by this knowledge. Not to see them at your door you have to fence them off, or keep them away by your coldness, or go somewhere where they rare not. But they are everywhere. And if a place be found where you cannot see them, still, you can nowhere escape from the truth. What, then, must be done ? You know these things, and the teaching of truth tells you them. Go to the bottom — to what seems to you the bottom, but is really the top — take your place beside those who produce food for the hungry and clothes for the naked, and do not be afraid : it will not be worse, but better in all respects. Take your place in the ranks, set to work with your weak, unskilled hands at that primary work which feeds the hungry and clothes the naked : at bread-labour, the struggle with Nature ; and you will feel, for the first time, firm ground beneath your feet, will feel that you are at home, that you are free and stand firmly, and have reached the end of your journey. And you will feel those complete, unpoisoned joys which can be found nowhere else — not secured by any doors nor screened by any curtains. You will know joys you have never known before ; INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS 15 you will, for the first time, know those strong, plain men, your brothers, who from a distance have fed you until now ; and to your surprise you will find in them such qualities as you have never known : such modesty, such kindness to yourself as you will feel you have not deserved. Instead of the contempt or scorn you expected, you will meet with such kindness, such gratitude and respect for having — after living on them and despising them all your life — at last recollected yourself, and with unskilled hands tried to help them. You will see that what seemed to you like an island on which you were saved from the sea that threatened to engulf you, was a marsh in which you were sinking ; and the sea you feared, was dry land on which you will walk firmly, quietly, and happily ; as must be the case, for from a deception (into which you did not enter of your own wish, but into which you were led) you will escape to the truth, and from the evasion of God's purpose you will pass to its performance. [1888.] ? II WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? What is the explanation of the fact that people use things that stupefy them : vodka, wine, beer, hashish, opium, tobacco, and other things less common : ether, morphia, fly-agaric, etc. ? Why did the practice begin? Why has it spread so rapidly, and why is it still spread- ing among all sorts of people, savage and civilized? How is that where there is no vodka, wine or beer, there we find opium, hashish, fly-agaric, etc., and that tobacco is used everywhere? Why do people wish to stupefy themselves ? Ask anyone why he began drinking wine and why he now drinks it. He will reply, ' Oh, it's pleasant, and everybody drinks/ and he may add, ' it cheers me up/ Some — those who have never once taken the trouble to consider whether they do well or ill to drink wine — may add that wine is good for the health and adds to one's strength ; that is to say, will make a statement long since proved baseless. Ask a smoker why he began to use tobacco and why he now smokes, and he also will reply : ' To while away time ; everybody smokes/ Similar answers would probably be given by those who use opium, hashish, morphia, or flyagaric. 'To while away time, to be cheerful; everybody does it/ But it might be excusable to twiddle one's thumbs, to whistle, to hum tunes, to play a fife or to do something of that sort 'to while away time/ 'to be cheerful,' or ' because everybody does it ' — that is to say, it might be excusable to do something for which [ 16 ] WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 17 one need not waste Nature's wealth, nor spend what has cost great labour to produce, nor do what brings evident harm to one's self and to others. But to produce tobacco, wine, hashish, and opium, the labour of millions of men is spent, and millions and millions of acres of the best land (often amid a population that is short of land) are employed to grow potatoes, hemp, poppies, vines, and tobacco. Moreover, the use of these evidently harmful things produces terrible evils known and admitted by everyone, and destroys more people than all wars and contagious diseases added together. And people know this, so that it cannot be that they use these things { to while away time,' ' to be cheerful,' or because ( everybody does it.' There must be some other reason. Continually and everywhere one meets people who love their children and are ready to make all kinds of sacrifices for them, but who yet spend on vodka, wine and beer, or on opium, hashish, and even on tobacco, as much as would quite suffice to feed their hungry and poverty-stricken children, or at least as much as would suffice to save them from misery. Evidently, if a man who has to choose between the want and sufferings of a family he loves, on the one hand, and abstinence from stupefying things on the other, chooses the former — he must be induced thereto by something more potent than the consideration that ' everybody does it/ or that it is pleasant. Evidently it is done not 'to while away time,' nor merely ' to be cheerful,' but he is actuated by some more .powerful cause. * This cause — as far as I have detected it by reading about this subject and by observing other people, and particularly by observing my own case when I used to drink wine and smoke tobacco — this cause, I think, may be explained as follows : When observing his own life, a man may often notice in himself two different beings : the one is blind and physical, the other sees and is spiritual. The blind animal being eats, drinks, rests, sleeps, propagates, and moves, like a wound-up machine. The seeing, B 18 ESSAYS AND LETTERS spiritual being that is bound up with the animal does nothing of itself, but only appraises the activity of the animal being ; coinciding with it when approving its activity, and diverging from it when disapproving. This observing being may be compared to the arrow of a compass, pointing with one end to the north and with the other to the south, but screened along its whole length by something not noticeable so long as it and the arrow both point the same way ; but which becomes obvious as soon as they point different ways. In the same manner the seeing, spiritual being, whose manifestation we commonly call conscience, always points with one end towards right and with the other towards wrong, and we do not notice it while we follow the course it shows : the course from wrong to right. But one need only do something contrary to the indication of conscience, to become aware of this spiritual being, which then shows how the animal activity has diverged from the direction indicated by conscience. And as a navigator, conscious that lie is on the wrong track, cannot continue to work the oars, engine, or sails, till he has adjusted his course to the indications of the compass, or has obliterated his con- sciousness of this divergence — each man who has felt the duality of his animal activity and his conscience, can continue his activity only by adjusting that activity to the demands of conscience, or by hiding from himself the indications conscience gives him of the wrongness of his animal life. All human life, we may say, consists solely of these two activities : (1) bringing one's activities into harmony witli conscience, or (2) hiding from one's self the indica- tions of conscience in order to be able to continue to live as before. Some do the first, others the second. To attain the first there is but one means : moral enlightenment — the increase of light in one's self and attention to what it si lows ; for the second — to hide from one's self the indications of conscience — there are two moans : one external and the other internal. The external means WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 19 consists in occupations that divert one's attention from the indications given by conscience ; the internal method consists in darkening conscience itself. As a man has two ways of avoiding seeing an object that is before him : either by diverting his sight to other, more striking objects, or by obstructing the sight of his own eyes — just so a man can hide from him- self the indications of conscience in two ways : either by the external method of diverting his attention to various occupations, cares, amusements, or games ; or by the internal method of obstructing the organ of attention itself. For people of dull, limited moral feeling, the external diversions are often quite suf- ficient to enable them not to perceive the indications conscience gives of the wrongness of their lives. But for morally sensitive people those means are often insufficient. The external means do not quite divert attention from the consciousness of discord between one's life and the demands of conscience. This consciousness hampers one's life : and people, in order to be able to go on living as before, have recourse to the reliable, in- ternal method, which is that of darkening conscience itself by poisoning the brain with stupefying substances. One is not living as conscience demands, yet lacks the strength to reshape one's life in accord with its demands. The diversions which might distract atten- tion from the consciousness of this discord are insuffi- cient, or have become stale, and so — in order to be able to live on, disregarding the indications conscience gives of the wrongness of their life — people (by poison- ing it temporarily) stop the activity of the organ through which conscience manifests itself, as a man by covering his eyes hides from himself what he does not wish to see. ii. Not in the taste, nor in any pleasure, recreation, or mirth they afford, lies the cause of the world-wide con- sumption of hashish, opium, wine, and tobacco, but b 2 20 ESSAYS AND LETTERS simply in man's need to hide from himself the demands of conscience. 1 was going along the street one day, and passing some cabmen who were talking, I heard one of them say : ' Of course, when one's sober, one's ashamed to do it P When one's sober one is ashamed of what seems all right when one is drunk. In these words we have the essential underlying cause, prompting men to resort to stupefiers. People resort to them, either to escape feeling ashamed after having done something contrary to their consciences, or to bring themselves, beforehand, into a state in which they can commit actions contrary to conscience, but to which their animal nature prompts them. A man when sober is ashamed to go after a prosti- tute, ashamed to steal, ashamed to kill. Of none of these things is a drunken man ashamed, and therefore if a man wishes to do something his conscience con- demns—he stupefies himself. I remember being struck by the evidence of a man cook who was tried for murdering a relation of mine, an old lady in whose service he lived. He related that when he had sent away his paramour, the servant-girl, and the time had come to act, he wished to go into the bedroom with a knife, but felt that while sober he could not commit the deed he had planned . . . ' when one's sober one's ashamed.' He turned back, drank two tumblers of vodka he had prepared before- hand, and only then felt himself ready, and committed the crime. Nine-tenths of the crimes are committed in that way : 1 Drink to keep up your courage.' Half the women who fall do so under the influence of wine. Nearly all visits to disorderly houses are paid by men who are intoxicated. People know this capacity of wine to stifle the voice of conscience, and intention- ally use it for that purpose. Not only do people stupefy themselves to stifle their own consciences, but (knowing how wine acts) when WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 21 they wish to make others commit actions contrary to conscience, they intentionally stupefy them — that is, arrange to stupefy people in order to deprive them of conscience. In war, soldiers are usually intoxicated before a hand-to-hand fight. All the French soldiers in the assaults on Sevastopol were drunk. When a fortified place has l>een captured, but the soldiers do not sack it and slay the defenceless old men and children, orders are often given to make them drunk, and then they do what is expected of them.* Every one knows people who have taken to drink in consequence of some wrong-doing that has tormented their conscience. Any one can notice that those who lead immoral lives are more attracted, than others by stupefying substances. Bands of robbers or thieves, and prostitutes, cannot live without intoxicants. Every one knows and admits that the use of stupefying substances is a consequence of the pangs of conscience, and that in certain immoral ways of life stupefying substances are employed to stifle conscience. Every one knows and admits also that the use of stupefiers does stifle conscience : that a drunken man is capable of deeds of which when sober he would not think for a moment. Every one agrees to this, but, strange to say, when the use of stupefiers does not result in such deeds as thefts, murders, violations and so forth — when stupefiers are taken not after some terrible crimes, but by men following professions which we do not consider criminal, and when the substances are consumed not in large quantities at once but con- tinually in moderate doses — then (for some reason) it is assumed that stupefying substances have no tendency to stifle conscience. Thus, it is supposed that a well-to-do Russian's glass of vodka before each meal, and tumbler of wine with the meal ; or a Frenchman's absinthe ; or an English- man's port wine and porter ; or a German's lager-beer ; * See the allusion to Skobelef s conduct at Geok-Tepe in a preface by Tolstoy, given in Grant Richards' sixpenny edition of ' Sevastopol and other Stories.' 22 ESSAYS AND LETTERS or a well-to-do Chinaman's moderate dose of opium ; and the smoking of tobacco with them — is done only for pleasure, and has no effect whatever on these people's consciences. It is supposed that if after this customary stupefac- tion no crime is committed : nor theft, nor murder, but only customary bad and stupid actions — then these actions have occurred of themselves and are not evoked by the stupefaction. It is supposed that if these people have not committed offences against the criminal law, they have no need to stifle the voice of conscience, and that the life led by people who habitually stupefy themselves is quite a good life, and would be precisely the same if they did not stupefy themselves. It is supposed that the constant use of stupefiers does not in the least darken their consciences. Though everybody knows by experience that one's frame of mind is altered by the use of wine or tobacco, that one is not ashamed of things which but for the stimulant one would be ashamed of, that after each twinge of conscience, however slight, one is inclined to have recourse to some stupefier, and that under the influence of stupefiers it is difficult to reflect on one's life and position, and that the constant and regular use of stupefiers produces the same physiological effect as its occasional immoderate use does — yet, in spite of all this, it seems to men who drink and smoke moderately, that they use stupefiers not at all to stifle conscience, but only for the flavour or for pleasure. But one need only think of the matter seriously and impartially — not trying to excuse one's self — to under- stand, first, that if the use of stupefiers in large occasional doses stifles man's conscience, their regular use must have a like effect (always first intensifying and then dulling the activity of the brain) whether they are taken in large or small doses. Secondly, that all stupefiers have the quality of stifling conscience, and have this always — both when under their influence murders, robberies, and violations are committed, and when under their influence words are spoken which WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 23 would not have been spoken, or things are thought and felt which would not have been thought and felt but for them ; and, thirdly, that if the use of stupefiers is needed to pacify and stifle the consciences of thieves, robbers, and prostitutes, it is also wanted by people engaged in occupations condemned by their own con- sciences, even though these occupations may by other people be considered proper and honourable. In a word, it is impossible to avoid understanding that the use of stupefiers, in large or small amounts, occasionally or regularly, in the higher or lower circles of society, is evoked by one and the same cause, the need to stifle the voice of conscience in order not to be aware of the discord existing between one's way of life and the demands of one's conscience. In that alone lies the reason of the widespread use of all stupefying substances, and among the rest of tobacco — probably the most generally used and most harmful. It is supposed that tobacco cheers one up, clears the thoughts, and attracts one merely like any other habit — without at all producing the deadening of con- science produced by wine. But you need only observe attentively the conditions under which a special desire to smoke arises, and you will be convinced that stupefy- ing with tobacco acts on the conscience as wine does, and that people consciously have recourse to this method of stupefaction just when they require it for that purpose. If tobacco merely cleared the thoughts and cheered one up, there would not be such a pas- sionate craving for it, a craving showfrig itself just on certain definite occasions. People would not say that they would rather go without bread than without tobacco, and would not often actually prefer tobacco to food. That man cook who murdered his mistress, said that when he entered the bedroom and had gashed her 24 ESSAYS AND LETTERS throat with his knife, and she had fallen with a rattle in her throat and the blood had gushed out in a torrent — he lost his courage. ' I could not finish her off/ he said, 'but I went back from the bedroom to the sitting-room, and there sat down and smoked a cigarette/ Only after stupefying himself with tobacco was he able to return to the bedroom, finish cutting the old lady's throat, and begin examining her things. Evidently the desire to smoke at that moment was evoked in him, not by a wish to clear his thoughts, or be merry, but by the need to stifle something that prevented him from completing what he had planned to do. Any smoker may detect in himself the same definite desire to stupefy himself with tobacco at certain, specially difficult, moments. I look back at the days when I used to smoke : when was it that I felt a special need of tobacco? It was always at moments when I did not wish to remember certain things that presented themselves to my recollection, when I wished to forget — not to think. I sit by myself doing nothing and know I ought to set to work, but don't feel inclined to, so I smoke and go on sitting. I have promised to be at some one's house by five o'clock, but I have stayed too long somewhere else ; I remember that I have missed the appointment, but I do not like to remember it, so I smoke. I get vexed, and say un- pleasant things to some one, and know J am doing wrong, and see that I ought to stop, but I want to give vent to my irritability — so I smoke and continue to be irritable. I play at cards and lose more than I intended to risk — so I smoke. I have placed myself in an awkward position, have acted badly, have made a mistake, and ought to acknowledge the mess 1 am in and thus escape from it, but I do not like to acknowledge it, so I accuse others — and smoke. I write something and am not quite satisfied frith nliat 1 have written. I ought to abandon it, but I wish to finish what I have planned to do — so I smoke. I dispute, and see that my opponent and I do not under- WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 25 stand, and cannot understand, one another, but I wish to express my opinion, so I continue to talk — and I smoke. What distinguishes tobacco from most other stupe- fiers, besides the ease with which one can stupefy one's self with it, and its apparent harmlessness, is its portability and the possibility of applying it to meet small, isolated occurrences that disturb one. Not to mention that the use of opium, wine, and hashish, in- volves the use of certain appliances not always at hand, while one can always carry tobacco and paper with one ; and that the opium-smoker and the drunkard evoke horror, while a tobacco-smoker does not seem at all repulsive — the advantage of tobacco over other stupe- fiers is, that the stupefaction of opium, hashish, or wine, extends to all the sensations and acts received or produced during a certain somewhat extended period of time — while the stupefaction from tobacco can be directed to any separate occurrence. You wish to do what you ought not to, so you smoke a cigarette and stupefy yourself sufficiently to enable you to do what should not be done, and then you are again fresh, and can think and speak clearly ; or you feel you have done what you should not — again you smoke a cigarette and the unpleasant consciousness of the wrong or awkward action is obliterated, and you can occupy yourself with other things and forget it. But apart from individual cases in which every smoker has recourse to smoking, not to satisfy a habit or while away time, but as a means of stifling his con- science with reference to acts he is about to commit or has already committed, is it not quite evident that there is a strict and definite relation between men's way of life and their passion for smoking ? When do lads begin to smoke ? Usually, when they lose their childish innocence. How is it that smokers can abandon smoking when they come among more moral conditions of life, and again start smoking as soon as they fall among a depraved set? Why do gamblers almost all smoke? Why among women do 26 ESSAYS AND LETTERS those who lead a regular life smoke least? Why do prostitutes and madmen all smoke ? Habit is habit ; but evidently smoking stands in some definite con- nection with the craving to stifle conscience, and achieves the end required of it. One may observe in the case of almost every smoker to what an extent smoking drowns the voice of con- science. Every smoker when yielding to his desire forgets, or sets at naught, the very first demands of social life — demands he expects others to observe, and which he observes in all other cases until his con- science is stifled by tobacco. Every one of average education considers it inadmissible, ill-bred, and in- humane to infringe the peace, comfort, and yet more the health, of others for his own pleasure. No one would allow himself to wet a room in which people are sitting, or to make a noise, shout, let in cold, hot, or ill-smelling air, or commit acts that incommode or harm others. But out of a thousand smokers not one will shrink from producing unwholesome smoke in a room where the air is breathed by non-smoking women and children. If smokers do usually say to those present : ■ You don't object?' every one knows that the customary answer is : 'Not at all' (although it cannot be pleasant to a non-smoker to breathe tainted air, and to find stinking cigar-ends in glasses and cups or on plates and candlesticks, or even in ash pans).* But even if non-smoking adults did not object to tobacco-smoke, it could not be pleasant or good for the children whose consent no one asks. Yet people who are honourable and humane in all other respects, smoke in the presence of children at dinner in small rooms, vitiating the air with tobacco-smoke, without feeling the slightest twinge of conscience. It is usually said (and I used to say) that smoking * In the matters alluded to, the Russian customs are worse than the English, partly, perhaps, because in Russia, owing to a drier climate, the smell of stale tobacco in the rooms is less offensive than in England. WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 27 facilitates mental work. And that is undoubtedly true if one considers only the quantity of one's mental out- put. To a man who smokes, and who consequently ceases strictly to appraise and weigh his thoughts, it seems as if he suddenly had many thoughts. But this is not because he really has many thoughts, but only because he has lost control of his thoughts. When a man works, he is always conscious of two beings in himself: the one works, the other appraises the work. The stricter the appraisement, the slower and the better is the work ; and vice versa, when the appraiser is under the influence of something that stupefies him, more work gets done, but its quality is lower. 1 If I do not smoke I cannot write. I cannot get on ; I begin and cannot continue/ is what is usually said, and what I used to say. What does it really mean ? It means either that you have nothing to write, or that what you wish to write has not yet matured in your consciousness, but is only beginning dimly to present itself to you, and the appraising critic within, when not stupefied with tobacco, tells you so. If you did not smoke you would either abandon what you have begun, or you would wait until your thought has cleared itself in your mind ; you would try to penetrate into what presents itself dimly to you, would consider the objections that offer themselves, and would turn all your attention to the elucidation of the thought. But you smoke, the critic within you is stupefied, and the hindrance to your work is removed. What to you when not inebriated by tobacco seemed insignificant, again seems important ; what seemed obscure, no longer seems so ; the objections that presented them- selves vanish, and you continue to write, and write much and rapidly. But can such a small — such a trifling — alteration as the slight intoxication produced by the moderate use of wine or tobacco produce important consequences ? 28 ESSAYS AND LE1TERS { lf a man smokes opium or hashish, or intoxicates himself with wine till he falls down and loses his senses, of course the consequences may be very serious ; but for a man merely to come slightly under the influence of hops or tobacco, surely cannot have any serious consequences,' is what is usually said. It seems to people that a slight stupefaction, a little darkening of the judgment, cannot have any important influence. But to think so, is as if one supposed that it may harm a watch to be struck against a stone, but that a little dirt introduced into it cannot do it any harm. Remember, however, that the chief work actuating man's whole life is not work done by his hands, feet, or back, but by his consciousness. For a man to do any- thing with feet or hands, a certain alteration has first to take place in his consciousness. And this altera- tion defines all the subsequent movements of the man. Yet these alterations are always minute and almost imperceptible. Brulof* one day corrected a pupil's study. The pupil, having glanced at the altered drawing, exclaimed : ( Wh^, you only touched it a tiny bit, but it is quite another thing.' Brulof replied: e Art begins where the tiny bit begins/ That saying is strikingly true, not of art alone, but of all life. One may say that true life begins where the tiny bit begins — where what seem to us minute and infinitely small alterations take place. True life is not lived where great external changes take place — where people move about, clash, fight, and slay one another — but it is lived only where these tiny, tiny, infinitesimally small changes occur. llaskolnikoff lived his true life, not when he mur- dered the old woman or her sister. When murdering the old woman herself, and especially when murdering her sister, he did not live his true life, but acted like a machine, doing what he could not help doing — dis- * K. P. Brulof, a celebrated Russian painter (1799-1S52). f The hero of Dostoyefsky's novel, ' Crime and Punish- ment.' IN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 29 charging the cartridge with which he had long been loaded. One old woman was killed, another stood before him, the axe was in his hand. Raskdlnikof lived his true life, not when he met the old woman's sister, but at the time when he had not vet killed any old woman, nor entered a stranger's lodging with intent to kill, nor held the axe in his hand, nor had the loop in his overcoat by which the axe hung — at the time when he was lying on the sofa in his room, deliberating not at all about the old woman, nor even as to whether it is, or is not, permissible at the will of one man to wipe from the face of the earth another, unnecessary and harmful, man, but was de- liberating whether he ought to live in Petersburg or not, whether he ought to accept money from his mother or not, and on other questions not at all relating to the old woman. And then — in that region quite inde- pendent of animal activities — the question whether he would or would not kill the old woman was decided. That question was decided — not when he, having killed one old woman, stood before another, axe in hand — but when he was doing nothing and was only thinking : when only his consciousness was active, and in that consciousness tiny, tiny alterations were taking place. It is at such times that one needs the greatest clearness to decide correctly the questions that have arisen, and it is just then that one glass of beer, or one cigarette, may prevent the solution of the question, may postpone the decision, stifle the voice of conscience, prompt a decision of the' question in favour of one's lower, animal nature — as was the case with Raskdlnikof. Tiny, tiny alterations — but on them depend the most immense, the most terrible consequences. From what happens when a man has taken a decision and begun to act, many material changes may result : houses, riches, and people's bodies may perish, but nothing more im- portant can happen than what was hidden in the man's consciousness. The limits of what can happen are set by consciousness. But from most minute alterations occurring in the 30 ESSAYS AND LETTERS domain of consciousness, boundless results of unimagin- able importance may follow. Do not let it be supposed tbat what I am saying has anything to do with the question of free-will or deter- minism. Discussion on that question is superfluous for my purpose, or for any other for that matter. Without deciding the question whether a man can, or cannot, act as he wishes to (a question, in my opinion, not cor- rectly stated), I am merely saying that since human activity is conditioned by infinitesimal alterations in consciousness, it follows (no matter whether we admit, or do not admit, the existence of free-will) that we must pay particular attention to the condition in which these minute alterations take place, just as one must be specially attentive to the condition of scales on which other things are to be weighed. We must, as far as it de- pends on us, try to put ourselves and others in condi- tions which will not disturb the clearness and delicacy of thought necessary for the correct working of con- science, and must not act in the contrary manner : try- ing to hinder and confuse the work of conscience by the use of stupefying substances. For man is a spiritual as well as an animal being. Man may be moved by things that influence his spiritual nature, or may be moved by things that influence his animal nature, as a clock may be moved by its hands or by its main wheel. And just as it is best to regulate the movement of a clock by means of its inner mechan- ism, so a man — one's self or another — is best regulated by means of his consciousness. And as with a clock one has to take special care of the thing by means of which one can best move the inner mechanism, so with a man, one must attend most of all to the clean inl- and clearness of consciousness ; consciousness being the thing that best moves the whole man. To doubt this is impossible ; every one knows it. Uut a need to deceive one's self arises. People are not as anxious that consciousness should work correctly, as they are that it should seem to them that what they are doin^ is right, and they knowingly make use of substances that disturb the proper working of their consciousness. WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 31 People drink and smoke, not casually, not from dulness, not to cheer themselves up, not because it is pleasant, but in order to drown the voice of conscience in themselves. And if that is so, how terrible must be the consequences ! Indeed, think what a building- would be like erected by people who did not use a straight plumb-rule to get the walls perpendicular, nor right-angled squares to get the corners correct, but used a soft rule which would bend to suit all irregu- larities in the walls, and a square that expanded to fit any angle, acute or obtuse. Yet, thanks to self-stupefaction, that is just what is being done in life. Life does not accord with con- science, so conscience is made to bend to life. This is done in the life of individuals, and it is done in the life of humanity as a whole, which consists of the lives of individuals. To grasp the full significance of such stupefying of one's consciousness, let each one carefully recall the spiritual conditions he has passed through at each period of his life. Every one will find that at each period of his life certain moral questions confronted him, which he ought to solve, and on the solution of which the whole welfare of his life depended. For the solution of these questions great concentration of attention was needful. Such concentration of attention is a labour. In every labour, especially at the com- mencement, there is a time when the work seems diffi- cult and painful, and w r hen human weakness prompts a desire to abandon it. Physical work seems painful at first; mental work seems yet more painful. As Lessing says : people are inclined to cease to think at the point at which thought begins to be difficult ; but it is just there, 1 would add, that thinking begins to be fruitful. A man feels that to decide the ques- tions confronting him needs labour — often painful labour — and he wishes to evade this. If he had no means of stupefying his faculties he could not expel 32 ESSAYS AND LETTERS from his consciousness the questions that confront him, and the necessity of solving them would he forced upon him. But man finds that there exists a means to drive off these questions whenever they present them- selves — and he uses it. As soon as the questions awaiting solution hegin to torment him he has re- course to these means, and avoids the disquietude evoked by the troublesome questions. Consciousness ceases to demand their solution, and the unsolved questions remain unsolved till his next period of en- lightenment. But when that period comes, the same thing is repeated, and the man goes on for months, years, or even for his whole life, standing before those same moral questions, and not moving a step towards their solution. Yet it is in the solution of moral ques- tions that life's whole movement consists. What occurs is as if a man who needs to see to the bottom of some muddy water to obtain a precious pearl, but who dislikes entering the water, should stir it up each time it begins to settle and become clear. Many a man continues to stupefy himself all his life long, and remains immovable at the same, once-accepted, obscure, self-contradictory view of life — pressing, as each period of enlightenment approaches, ever at one and the same wall against which he pressed ten or twenty years ago, and which he cannot break through because he intentionally blunts that sharp point of thought which alone could pierce it. Let each man remember himself as he has been during the years of his drinking or smoking, and let him test the matter in his experience of other people, and every one will see a definite constant line dividing those who are addicted to stupefiers from those who are free from them. The more a man stupefies himself, the more he is morally immovable. Terrible, as they are described to us, are the conse- quences of opium and hashish on individuals ; terrible, as we know them, are the consequences of alcohol to WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES? 33 flagrant drunkards ; but incomparably more terrible to our whole society are the consequences of what is considered the harmless, moderate use of spirits, wine, beer, and tobacco, to which the majority of men, and especially our so-called cultured classes, are addicted. The consequences must naturally be terrible, admit- ting the fact, which must be admitted — that the guid- ing activities of society : political, official, scientific, literary, and artistic — are carried on, for the most part, by people in an abnormal state : by people who are drunk. • It is generally supposed that a man who, like most people of our well-to-do classes, takes alcoholic drink almost every time he eats, is, next day, during work- ing hours, in a perfectly normal and sober condition. But this is quite an error. A man who drank a bottle of wine, a glass of spirits, or two glasses of ale, yester- day, is now in the usual state of drowsiness or depres- sion which follows excitement, and is therefore in a condition of mental prostration, which is increased by smoking. For a man who habitually smokes and drinks in moderation, to bring his brain into a normal condition would require at least a week, or more of abstinence from wine and tobacco. But that hardly ever occurs.* * But how is it that people who do not drink or smoke are often morally on an incomparably lower plane than others who drink and smoke ? And why do people who drink and smoke often manifest the highest qualities both •mentally and morally ? The answer is, first, that we do not know the height that those who drink and smoke would have attained had they not drunk and smoked. And, secondly, from the fact that morally gifted people achieve great things in spite of the deteriorating effect of stupefying substances, we can but conclude that they would have produced yet greater things had they not stupefied themselves. It is very probable, as a friend remarked to me, that Kant's works would not have been written in such a curious and bad style had he not smoked so much. Lastly, the lower a man's mental and c 34 ESSAYS AND LETTERS So that most of what goes on among us, whether done by people who rule and teach others, or by those who are ruled and taught, is done when the doers are not sober. And let not this be taken as a joke or an exaggera- tion ; the confusion, and, above all, the imbecility, of our lives, arises chiefly from the constant state of in- toxication in which most people live. Could people who are not drunk possibly do all that is being done around us — from building the Eiffel Tower to accepting military service ? Without any need whatever, a company is formed, capital collected, men labour, make calculations, and draw plans ; millions of working days and thousands of tons of iron are spent to build a tower ; and millions of people consider it their duty to climb up it, stop awhile on it, and then climb down again ; and the building and visiting of this tower evoke no other reflection than a wish and intention to build other towers, in other places, still bigger. Could sober people act like that ? Or take another case. All the European peoples have for dozens of years past been busy devising the very best ways of killing people, and teaching as many young men as possible, as soon as they reach manhood, how to murder. Everyone knows that there can be no invasion by barbarians, but that these preparations made by the different civilized and Christian nations are directed against one another ; all know that this is burdensome, painful, inconvenient, ruinous, immoral, impious, and irrational — but all continue to prepare for mutual murder. Some devise political combinations to decide who, with what allies, is to kill whom ; others moral plane, the less does he feel the discord between his conscience and his life, and, therefore, the less does he feel a craving to stupefy himself; and, on the other hand, a parallel reason explains why the most sensitive natures — those which immediately and morbidly feel the discord between life and conscience — so often indulge in narcotics and perish by them. — L. T. WHY DO MEN STUPEFY THEMSELVES ? 35 direct those who are being taught to murder ; and others, again, yield — against their will, against their conscience, against their reason — to these preparations for murder. Could sober people do these things ? Only drunkards who never reach a state of sobriety could do them, and could live on in the horrible state of discord between life and conscience in which, not only in this, but in all other respects, the people of our society are now living. Never before, I suppose, have people lived with the demands of their conscience so evidently in contradic- tion to their actions. Humanity to-day has, as it were, stuck fast. It is as though some external cause hindered it from occupying a position naturally in accord with its perceptions. And the cause — if not the only one, then certainly the greatest — is this physical condition of stupefaction, to which, by wine and tobacco, the great majority ot people in our society reduce themselves. Emancipation from this terrible evil will be an epoch in the life of humanity ; and that epoch seems to be at hand. The evil is recognised. An alteration has already taken place in our perception concerning the use of stupefying substances. People have understood the terrible harm of these things, and are beginning to point them out, and this almost unnoticed alteration in perception will inevitably bring about the emancipation of men from the use of stupefying things — will enable them to open their eyes to the demands of their con- sciences, and they will begin to order their lives in accord with their perceptions. And this seems to be already beginning. But, as always, it is beginning among the upper classes only after all the lower classes have already been infected. [June 10, o.s., 1890.] The above essay was written by Leo Tolstoy as a preface to a book on Drunkenness written by my brother-in-law, Dr. P. S. Alexeyef.— A. M. c 2 Ill AN AFTERWORD TO < THE KREUTZER SONATA ' Many letters from strangers have reached and still continue to reach me asking for a clear and simple explanation of what 1 meant by the story called ' The Kreutzer Sonata. ' 1 will try, to the best of my ability, to do what is asked of me, and explain briefly the essence of what I wished that story to convey, as well as the conclusions which, I think, may be derived from it. In the first place I wished to say that a strong opinion has taken root in all classes of our society, and is supported by pseudo-science, to the effect that sexual intercourse is indispensable to health, and that, since marriage is sometimes out of the question, sexual inter- course without marriage and without involving the man in any obligation beyond a monetary payment, is per- fectly natural, and should therefore be encouraged. To such an extent has this opinion prevailed and so firmly is it established, that parents on the advice of doctors actually arrange debauchery for their children ; while Governments — whose only purpose should be the moral well-being of their citizens — organize debauchery by regulating an entire class of women destined to perish physically and morally for the satisfaction of the supposed needs of men J* and unmarried people, * The registration and medical examination of prostitutes, which was long practised in our garrisoned towns, is still generally, systematically, and unblusliingly carried on in Russian towns, on behalf of the civil as well as the military population. [36] AN AFTERWORD 37 with untroubled consciences, yield themselves to de- bauchery. I intended to say that this is wrong ; for it cannot be right that some people should be destroyed body and soul for the health of others, any more than it can be right that some people for their health's sake should drink the blood of others. The natural conclusion I would draw is that we must not yield to this error and deception. And to withstand it we must refuse to accept immoral doctrines, no matter what false sciences are quoted in their support. And we must, moreover, understand that sexual intercourse in which people either abandon the children who come as a result of their actions, or throw the whole burden of them on to the woman, or prevent the possibility of their birth, is a violation of the plainest claims of morality, and is shameful. And unmarried people who do not wish to act shamefully should refrain from such conduct. That they may be able to refrain, they must lead a natural life : not drink intoxicants, nor overeat, nor eat flesh-meat, nor shirk labour (not gymnastics or play, but real fatiguing labour). Furthermore, they must not tolerate, even in thought, the possibility of intercourse with strange women, any more than with their own mothers, sisters, near relatives, or the wives of their friends. That self-restraint is not only possible, but less dangerous or harmful to one's health than incontinence, is a fact of which any man may find hundreds of proofs around him. That is the first thing I wanted to say. Next — as a result of the fact that people regard amatory intercourse as both a necessary condition of health and a pleasure, and, more than that, as a poetic and elevating blessing — conjugal infidelity has, in all classes of our society, become extremely common. (Among the peasants conjugal infidelity is specially due to army service.) And this I consider wrong. And the conclusion to be drawn is — that people should not behave so. 38 ESSAYS AND LETTERS And in order that they may not behave so, it is necessary that this view of sex-love should he altered. Men and women must be trained, both by their parents and by public opinion, to look on falling in love and the accompanying sexual desire — whether before or after marriage — not as the poetic and elevated state it is now considered to be, but as an animal state de- grading to a human being. And the breach of the promise of fidelity given at marriage should be dealt with by public opinion at least as severely as a breach of pecuniary obligation, or a business fraud, and should on no account be eulogized, as is now done in novels, poems, songs, operas, etc. That is my second point. Thirdly (in consequence, again, of the false opinion held in our society about physical love), child-bearing is not properly regarded, and, instead of being the aim and the justification of marriage, it has become an impediment to the pleasurable continuance of amorous relations, and consequently, both among married and unmarried people (instructed by exponents of medical science), the employment of means to prevent the birth of children has spread ; and a practice has become common which did not exist formerly, and does not now exist in patriarchal peasant families — the continua- tion of conjugal relations during the months of preg- nancy and while the woman is still nursing. And I think such conduct as that is wrong. To use means to prevent child-birth is wrong : first, because it frees the parents from the anxiety and care for the children which are the redeeming feature ill sexual love, and, secondly, because it is an action very near to that which is most shocking to man's conscience, namely, murder. And incontinence at the time of pregnancy and nursing is wrong, because it wastes the physical, and, above all, the spiritual, strength of the woman. The deduction which follows from this is, that such things should be avoided. And, in order to avoid them, it should be understood that continence, which AN AFTERWORD 39 is an indispensable condition of human dignity to the unmarried, is still more obligatory on the married. That is the third point. Fourthly, in our society — in which children are regarded as an impediment to enjoyment, or as an unlucky accident, or (if only a prearranged number are born) as a special kind of pleasure — what is con- sidered in their training is not their preparation for the duties of life which await them as reasonable and loving beings, but merely the gratification they may afford to their parents. The result is that human children are brought up like the young of animals, and the chief care of the parents (encouraged by false medical science) is, not to prepare them for activities worthy of human beings, but to overfeed them, to increase their size, and to make them clean, white, well-conditioned and handsome. (If this is not the case among the lower classes, it is only because they cannot afford it. They look on the matter just as the upper classes do.) And in these pampered children (as in all overfed animals) an overpowering sexual sensitiveness shows itself unnaturally early, causing them terrible distress as they approach the age of puberty. All the surround- ings of their life : clothes, books, sight-seeing, music, dances, dainty fare— everything, from the pictures on their boxes of bon-bons to the stories, novels, and poems they read — more and more increases this sensi- tiveness, and, as a result, the most terrible sexual vices and diseases are frequent incidents in the life of children of both sexes, and often retain their hold after maturity is reached. And I consider that this is wrong. And the conclu- sion to be drawn is that human children should not be brought up like the young of animals, but in the educa- tion of human children other results should be aimed at than producing handsome, well-kept bodies. That is the fourth point. Fifthly, in our society, where the falling in love of young men and women (which still has physical 40 ESSAYS AND LETTERS attraction as its root) is extolled as though it were the highest and most poetic aim of human endeavour (as all our art and poetry hears witness), young people devote the best part of their lives — the men to spying out, pursuing, and obtaining (whether in marriage or free union), those best suited to attract them ; the women and girls to enticing and entrapping men into free unions or marriages. In this way the best powers of many people run to waste in activity not merely unproductive but injurious. Most of our insensate luxury results from this, as well as most of the idleness of the men and the shameless- ness of the women who are not above following fashions admittedly borrowed from depraved women, and ex- posing parts of the body that excite sensuality. And this, I think, is wrong. It is wrong because, however it may be idealized, to obtain connection — in marriage or without marriage — with the object of one's love is an aim as unworthy of a man as is that of securing tasty and abundant food, which seems to many people the highest good. The conclusion to be drawn from this is that we must cease to consider sex-love as something specially elevated, and must understand that no aim that we count worthy of a man — whether it be the service of humanity, fatherland, science or art (not to speak of the service of God) — can be attained by means of connec- tion with the object of one's love (either with or with- out a marriage rite). On the contrary, falling in love and connection (however men may seek to prove the con- trary in prose and verse) never facilitate, but always impede, the attainment of any aim worthy of man. That is the fifth point. That is the substance of what I wanted to say, and thought I had said, by my story ; and it seemed to me that one might discuss the question of how to remedy the evils indicated, but that it was impossible not to agree with the considerations advanced. It seemed impossible not to agree : first, because these considera- tions quite coincide with what we know of the progress of AN AFTERWORD 41 mankind (which has ever advanced from dissoluteness to greater and greater purity), and accord also with the moral perceptions of the community, and with our conscience, which always condemns dissoluteness and esteems chas- tity.* Secondly, hecause these propositions are merely unavoidable conclusions from the Gospel teaching, which we either profess or at least (even if uncon- sciously) admit to lie at the root of our ideas of morality. But 1 was mistaken. No one, it is true, directly disputes the statements that one should not be dissolute either before or after marriage, should not artificially prevent childbirth, should not make toys of one's children, and should not put amatory intercourse above everything else. In short, no one denies that chastity is better than depravity. But it is said : ( If abstinence is better than marriage, people ought certainly to follow the better course. But if they do, then the human race will come to an end, and the ideal for the race cannot be — its own extinction/ But — apart from the fact that the extinc- tion of the human race is not a new idea, but is for religious people one of the dogmas of their faith, and for scientists an inevitable conclusion from observations of the cooling of the sun — there is in that rejoinder a great, wide-spread, and old misunderstanding. It is said : ( If men act up to the ideal of perfect chastity, they will become extinct ; therefore the ideal is false/ But those who speak so, intentionally or unintention- ally confuse two different things — a rule or precept, and an ideal. Chastity is not a rule or precept, but an ideal, or, rather, one condition of the ideal. But an ideal is an ideal only when its accomplishment is only possible in idea, in thought, when it appears attainable only in infinity, and when the possibility of approaching towards it is therefore infinite. If the ideal were attained, or if we * The word is used in the sense of complete purity of mind and body, such as is commonly attributed to Jesus. 42 ESSAYS AND LETTERS could even picture its attainment by mankind, it would cease to be an ideal. Such was Christ's ideal — the establishment of the kingdom of God on earth— an ideal already foretold by the prophets, of a time when all men will be taught of God, will beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks ; when the lion will lie down with the lamb, and all will be united in love. The whole meaning of human life lies in progress towards that ideal ; and therefore the striving towards the Christian ideal in its completeness, and towards chastity as one of its conditions, is farfrom rendering life impossible. On the contrary, the absence of that ideal would destroy progress, and with it the possibility of real life. Arguments to the effect that the human race will end if men strive with all their might towards chastity, are like the one (sometimes actually used) to the effect that the race will perish if men try their best to sub- stitute the love of friends, of enemies, and of all that lives, for the prevailing struggle for existence. Such arguments come from not understanding the difference between two methods of moral guidance. As there are two ways of telling a traveller his road, so there are two methods of moral guidance for seekers after truth. One way consists in pointing out the objects that will be met on the road, by which the traveller can shape his course ; the other way consists in only giving him the direction by a compass he carries, and on which he sees one invariable direction, and con- sequently is made aware of every divergence from it. The first method of moral guidance is by externally denned rules : certain definite actions are indicated which a man must, or must not, perform. '-. Keep the Sabbath ;' ' Be circumcised ;' ' Do not steal ;' ' Abstain from wine ;' ' Do not destroy life ;' ' Give tithes to the poor ;' * Wash and pray five times daily;' ' Baptize;' ( Receive the Eucharist,' etc. Such are the ordinances of external religious teaching : Brahnrinical, Buddhist, Mohammedan or Jewish, and of Ecclesiasticism, falsely called Christianity. AN AFJTERWORD 43 The other method consists in indicating 1 a perfection man can never reach, but which he consciously desires. An ideal is set before him by attending to which he can always see to what extent he deviates from the right road. ''Love God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbour as thyself/ 6 Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect/ Such is the teaching of Christ. The test of fulfilment of external religious teachings is the conformity of our conduct to the injunctions given, and such conformity is possible. The test of the fulfilment of Christ's teaching lies in a consciousness of the extent of one's deviation from the ideal perfection. (The degree of one's approach to it is not seen ; but the degree of deviation from it is seen.) A man who accepts an external law is like a man standing in the light thrown by a lantern fixed to a post. He stands in the light of this lantern, and it is light, around him, but he has no place towards which to advance. A man who accepts Christ's teaching is like one who carries a lantern before him on a pole : the light is always before him, and by lighting up fresh ground which attracts him, always invites him to advance. The Pharisee thanks God he has fulfilled the whole law. The rich young man has also from his childhood fulfilled all, and cannot understand what more can be demanded. Nor can they think otherwise : they see nothing ahead of them towards which they might aspire. Tithes have been paid ; Sabbaths observed ; parents honoured ; they have not committed adultery, nor stolen, nor murdered. What more can be re- quired ? But for him who follows the Christian teach- ing, each step gained towards perfection makes plain the need of ascending another, from which he perceives a yet higher, and so on without end. He who follows the law of Christ is always in the position of the Publican — always conscious of imperfection, he does not look behind him at the road he has passed, but sees always before him the road he has still to travel. 44 ESSAYS AND LETTERS In this lies the difference between Christ's teaching and all other religious teachings ; a difference not in the demands made, but in the guidance afforded. Jesus did not lay down rules of life. He established no institutions, and did not institute marriage. But men (not understanding the character of Christ's teaching, and accustomed to external teachings) wished to feel themselves justified — as the Pharisee felt himself justi- fied — and from the letter of his teaching, but contrary to its whole spirit, have constructed an external code of rules called Church doctrine, and with it have sup- planted Christ's true teaching of the ideal. This has been done concerning government, law, war, the Church, and Church worship ; and it has also been done in relation to marriage. In spite of the fact that Jesus not only never insti- tuted marriage, but (if we must seek external regula- tions) rather discountenanced it (' Leave thy wife and follow me '), the Church doctrine (called Christian) has established marriage as a Christian institution. That is to say, it has defined certain external conditions under which sexual love is supposed to be quite right and lawful for a Christian. As, fhowever, the institution of marriage has no basis whatever in true Christianity, the result has been that people in our society have quitted one shore, but have not reached the other. They do not really believe in the ecclesiastical definitions of marriage, for they feel that such an institution has no foundation in Christ's teaching ; yet as they do not perceive Christ's ideal (which the Church doctrine has hidden) — the ideal of striving towards complete chastity — they are left, in relation to marriage, quite without guidance. This explains the fact (which seems so strange at first sight) that among Jews, Mohammedans, Lamaists, and others professing religious doctrines much lower than the Christian, but having strict external regulations concerning marriage, the family principle and conjugal fidelity are far firmer than in so-called Christian society. Those people have their regular systems of AN AFTERWORD 45 concubinage, or polygamy, or polyandry, confined within certain bounds. Among us wholesale dissolute- ness finds place : concubinage, polygamy, and polyandry, free from all limitations, and concealed by the pretence of monogamy. F6r no better reason than because the clergy, for money, perform certain ceremonies (called marriage services) over a certain number of those who unite, people in our society naively or hypocritically imagine that we are a monogamous people. There never was, or could be, such a thing as Christian marriage, any more than Christian worship,* Christian teachers and Fathers of the Church, t Christian pro- * ' And when ye pray, ye shall not be as the hypocrites : for they love to stand and pray in congregations and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, they have received their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which, seeth in secret, shall recompense thee. And in praying use not vain repe- titions as the Gentiles do : for they think they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not therefore like unto them : for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.' — Matt. vi. 5-12. ' Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, shall you worship the Father. You know not whom you worship, but we worship him whom we know. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and by deeds : for such doth the Father seek to be his worshippers. God is a Spirit, and must be worshipped in spirit and by deeds.'— John iv. 21-24. f ' But be not ye called teachers : for one is your Teacher, and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father on the earth : for one is your Father, which is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters : for one is your Master, even the Christ.' — Matt, xxiii. 8-10. (Where the Revised Version is not followed, Tolstoy's Union and Translation of the Four Gospels has been used. ) 46 ESSAYS AND LETTERS perty, armies, law-courts, or Governments, and this was understood by Christians who lived in the first centuries. The Christian ideal is that of love to God and to one's fellow-man : it is the renunciation of one's self for the service of God and one's neighbour ; whereas sexual love, marriage, is a service of self, and con- sequently in any case an obstacle to the service of God and man, and therefore, from a Christian point of view, a fall, a sin. To get married would not help the service of God and man, though it were done to perpetuate the human race. For that purpose, instead of getting married and producing fresh children, it would be much simpler to save and rear those millions of children who are now perishing around us for lack of food for their bodies, not to mention food for their souls. Only if he were sure all existing children were provided for could a Christian enter upon marriage without being conscious of a moral fall. It may be possible to reject Christ's teaching — which permeates our whole life and on which all our morality is founded — but once that teaching is accepted, we cannot but admit that it points to the ideal of complete chastity. For in the Gospels it is said clearly, and so that there is no possibility of misinterpretation : First, that a married man should not divorce his wife to take another, but should live with her whom he has once taken. * Secondly, that it is wrong (and it is said of men generally, married or unmarried) to look on a * c It was said also, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement : but I say unto you, that if anyone putteth away his wife, not only is he guilty of wantonness, but he leads her to adultery : and whosoever shall marry her when she is put away committeth adultery. '—Matt. v. 31, 32. 1 He saith unto them, Moses for your coarseness let you divorce from your wives : but this from the first was not right' — Matt. xix. 8. AN AFTERWORD 47 woman as an object of desire.* And, thirdly, that for the unmarried it is better not to marry— i.e., it is better to be quite chaste. t To most people these thoughts will seem strange, and even contradictory. And they really are contradictory, not in themselves but to the whole manner of our lives : and the question naturally presents itself: e Which is right ? These thoughts, or the lives lived by millions, including myself?' That feeling forced itself upon me most strongly when I approached the conclusions I now express. I never anticipated that the development of my thoughts would bring me to such a conclusion. I was startled at my conclusions and did not wish to believe them, but it was impossible not to believe them. And how- ever they may run counter to the whole arrange- ment of our lives, however they may contradict what I thought and said previously, I had to admit them. ( But these are all general considerations, which may be true, but relate to the teaching of Jesus, and are binding only on those who profess it. But life is life, and it will not do merely to point to a distant and unattainable ideal, and then leave men with no definite guidance in face of a burning question, which affects every one and causes terrible sufferings. A young and * ' Every one that looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart' — Matt. v. 28. t ■ The disciples say unto him, If the case of a man is so with his wife, it is not expedient to marry, But he said unto them, All men cannot receive this saying, but they to whom it is given. For there are men who are virgin from lust from their mother's womb ; and there are some who have been deprived of their desire by men, and there are some who have become pure for the kingdom of heaven's sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.' — Matt. xix. 10-12. Tolstoy's A Union and Translation of the Four Gospels has been followed in these quotations. 48 ESSAYS AND LETTERS passionate man may, at first, be attracted by this ideal, but will not hold to it, and when once he has broken down, not knowing or acknowledging any fixed rules, he will lapse into complete depravity/ So people generally argue : ' Christ's ideal is un- attainable, therefore it cannot serve as a guide in practical life ; it may do to talk about, or dream about, but it is not applicable to life, and must therefore be put aside. We do not want an ideal, but a rule — a guidance — suited to our strength and to the average level of the moral forces of our society : honourable Church-marriage ; or even a marriage not quite honour- able, in which one party (as occurs with men among us) has already known many other women ; or, say, marriage with the possibility of divorce, or civil marriage, or even (advancing in the same direction) a marriage, Japanese fashion, for a certain term' — but why not go as far as brothels ? They are said to be preferable to street prostitution ! That is where the trouble comes in. Once you let yourself lower the ideal to suit your weakness, there is no finding the line at which to stop. In reality, this argument is altogether unsound. It is untrue that an ideal of infinite perfection cannot be a guide in life, and that 1 must either throw it away, saying, ( It is useless to me since I can never reach it,' or must lower it to the level at which it suits my weak- ness to rest. To argue so is as though a mariner said to himself: 6 Since I cannot keep to the line indicated by the compass, I must either throw the compass overboard and cease to bother with it* (i.e., must discard the ideal) ; ' or I must fix the needle of the compass in the position which corresponds to the direction my vessel is now following' (i.e., must lower the ideal to suit my own weakness). The ideal of perfection Jesus gave is not a fancy, or a theme for rhetorical sermons, but is an indispen- sable and accessible guide to moral life, as the compass is an indispensable and accessible instrument where- AN AFTERWORD 49 with to guide a ship. But the one must be believed in as implicitly as the other. In whatever position a man may find himself, the teaching of the ideal that Jesus gave is sufficient to afford him always the best indications as to what he should or should not do. But he must entirely believe this teaching, and this alone, and must not trust to any other — just as a steersman guiding himself by the compass must not look to either side, but must keep his attention fixed on the compass. One must know how to guide one's self by Christ's teaching as by a compass ; and for this the chief thing is to understand one's own position. One must not fear to define clearly one's own deviation from the direction of the ideal. Whatever plane a man may be on, it is always possible for him to move towards the ideal, and in no position can he say he has attained it and can approach no nearer. Such is the case in regard to man's aspiration towards the Christian ideal in general, and it applies to the question of chastity in particular. If we take men in the most diverse positions that they can occupy, from innocent childhood to marriage without self-restraint, the teaching of Jesus and the ideal it holds up will afford clear and definite guidance as to what should and what should not be done at each stage. 1 What should a pure lad or maid do ?' Keep themselves pure and free from snares ; and, in order to be able to give all their strength to the service of God and man, strive after greater and greater purity of thought and desire. ' What should a youth or a maid do who has fallen into temptation,, is absorbed by vague desire, or by love of some particular person, and who has thereby lost to some extent the power to serve God and man r Again the same thing. Not allow themselves to fall (knowing that a fall will not free them from temptation, but will only render it stronger) ; but go on striving ever towards greater and greater purity, to be able more fullv to serve God and man. 50 ESSAYS AND LETTERS ' What should those do who have not been equal to the struggle and have fallen f They must look on their fall, not as on a legitimate enjoyment (as is now done when it is sanctioned by a wedding service), nor as a casual pleasure which may be repeated with someone else, nor as a calamity, when the fall has been with an inferior and without ritual ; but they must look on this first fall as the only one, and regard it as the entrance to an actual indissoluble marriage. This marriage, by the results that follow from it — the birth of children — restricts the married couple to a new and more limited field of service of God and man. Before marriage they could serve God and man directly and in most varied ways ; but marriage limits their sphere of activity, and demands from them the rearing and education of children, who may be future servants of God and man. 'What must a married man and woman do, who, by rearing and educating children, are fulfilling the limited service of God and man which corresponds to their position ?' Again the same thing. Together strive to free them- selves' from temptation, purify themselves, and cease from sin, by substituting for physical love, which hinders both public and private service of God and man, the pure relationship of brother and sister. And, therefore, it is not true that we cannot guide ourselves by the ideal of Jesus, because it is so high, so perfect, and so inaccessible. If we cannot guide our- selves by it, that is only because we lie to ourselves and deceive ourselves. For if we say we require a rule more accessible than Christ's ideal, or, falling short of Christ's ideal, we shall become dissolute — what we say really amounts to this : not that Christ's ideal is too high for us, but that we do not believe in it and do not wish to appraise our conduct by it. To say that when once we have fallen we shall have begun a loose life, is really to say that we decide in advance that a fall with an inferior is not a sin, but is AN AFTERWORD 51 an amusement, an infatuation, which we are not bound to rectify by the permanent union called marriage. Whereas, if "we realized that a fall is a sin which should and must be redeemed by an inviolate marriage, and by all the activity involved in educating the children born of marriage — then the fall would by no means be a reason for taking to vice. It is as if a husbandman learning to sow corn did not reckon as sown any field in which the sowing was unsuccessful, but went on sowing a second and a third field, and took into account only the one that succeeded. Evidently such a man would waste much land and much seed, and would not learn to sow properly. Only acknowledge chastity as the ideal, and regard every fall (of whomsoever with whomsoever) as the one irrevocable life-long marriage, and it will be clear that the guidance given by Jesus is sufficient, and, more than that, is the only possible guidance. * Man is weak, and his task must accord with his strength,' is what people say. But that is as if one said : e My hand is weak, and 1 cannot draw a line that shall be quite straight (the shortest between two points), so, to help matters, I will take as my model a crooked or broken line. ' In reality, the weaker my hand, the more I need a perfect model. Having once recognised the Christian teaching of the ideal, we cannot act as if we were ignorant of it, and replace it by external rules. The Christian teaching of the ideal has been set before us just because it can guide us in our present stage of progress. Humanity has already outgrown the stage of religious, external ordinances, and people believe in them no more. Christ's teaching of the ideal is the one teaching that can guide mankind. We must not and cannot replace the ideal of Jesus by external regulations ; but we must firmly keep that ideal before us in all its purity, and, above all, we must believe in it. To the sailor while he kept near the coast one could say : ' Steer by that cliff, that cape, or that tower ' ; but a time has come when the sailor has left the land d 2 52 ESSAYS AND LETTERS behind, and his only guide can and must be the unattainable stars, and the compass showing a direc- tion. And the one and the other are given us. [September 26, o.s., 1890. The above is a new translation, in preparing which I have been allowed to make free use of one that appeared in the New Age in 1897. IV THE FIRST STEP If a man is not making a pretence of work, but is work- ing in order to accomplish the matter he has in hand, his actions will necessarily follow one another in a certain sequence determined by the nature of the work. If he postpones to a later time what from the nature of the work should be done first, or if he altogether omits some essential part, he is certainly not working seriously, but only pretending. This rule holds unalterably true whether the work be physical or not. As one cannot seriously wish to bake bread unless one first kneads the flour and then heats the brick-oven, sweeps out the ashes, and so on, so also one cannot seriously wish to lead a good life without adopting a certain order of succession in the attainment of the necessary qualities. With reference to right living this rule is especially important ; for whereas in the case of physical work, such as making bread, it is easy to discover by the result whether a man is seriously engaged in work or is only pretending, with reference to goodness of life no such verification is possible. If people, without knead- ing the dough or heating the oven, only pretend to make bread — as they do in the theatre — then from the result (the absence of bread) it becomes evident that they were only pretending ; but when a man pretends to be leading a good life we have no such direct indica- tions that he is not striving seriously but only pretend- [53] 54 ESSAYS AND LETTERS ing, for not only are the results of a good life not always evident and palpable to those around, but very often such results even appear to them harmful. Respect for a man's activity, and the acknowledgment of its utility and pleasantness by his contemporaries, furnish no proof of the real goodness of his life. Therefore, to distinguish the reality from the mere appearance of a good life, the indication given by a regular order of succession in the acquirement of the essential qualities is especially valuable. And this indication is valuable, not so much to enable us to dis- cover the seriousness of other men's strivings after goodness as to test this sincerity in ourselves, for in this respect we are liable to deceive ourselves even more than we deceive others. A correct order of succession in the attainment of virtues is an indispensable condition of advance towards a good life, and consequently the teachers of mankind have always prescribed a certain invariable order for their attainment. All moral teachings set up that ladder which, as the Chinese wisdom has it, reaches from earth to heaven, and the ascent of which can only be accomplished by starting from the lowest step. As in the teaching of the Brahmins, Buddhists, Confucians, so also in the teaching of the Greek sages, steps were fixed, and a superior step could not be attained without the lower one having been previously taken. All the moral teachers of mankind, religious and non-religious alike, have admitted the necessity of a definite order of suc- cession in the attainment of the qualities essential to a righteous life. The necessity for this sequence lies in the very essence of things, and therefore, it would seem, ought to be recognised by everyone. But, strange to say, from the time Church-Christ- ianity spread widely, the consciousness of this neces- sary order appears to have been more and more lost, and is now retained only among ascetics and monks. Among worldly Christians it is taken for granted that; the higher virtues may be attained not only in the THE FIRST STEP 55 absence of the lower ones, which are a necessary condi- tion of the higher, but even in company with the greatest vices ; and consequently the very conception of what it is that constitutes a good life, has reached, in the minds of the majority of worldly people to-day, a state of the greatest confusion. Tn our times people have quite lost the consciousness of the necessity of a sequence in the qualities a man must have to enable him to live a good life, and, as a consequence, they have lost the very conception of what constitutes a good life. This, it seems to me, has come about In the following way. When Christianity replaced heathenism it put forth moral demands superior to the heathen ones, and at the same time (as was also the case with heathen morality) it necessarily laid down one indispensable order for the attainment of virtues — certain steps to the attainment of a righteous life. Plato's virtues, beginning with self-control, advanced through courage and wisdom to justice ; the Christ- ian virtues, commencing with self-renunciation, rise through devotion to the will of God, to love. Those who accepted Christianity seriously and strove to live righteous Christian lives, thus understood Christianity, and always began living rightly by re- nouncing their lusts ; which renunciation included the self-control of the pagans. But let it not be supposed that Christianity in this matter was only echoing the teachings of paganism ; let me not be accused of degrading Christianity from its lofty place to the level of heathenism. Such an accusation would be unjust, for I regard the Christian teaching as the highest the world has known, and as quite different from heathenism. Christian teaching replaced pagan teaching simply because the former was different from, and superior to, the latter. But both Christian and pagan teaching alike, lead men toward m ESSAYS AND LETTERS truth and goodness ; and as these are always the same, the way to them must also be the same, and the first steps on this way must inevitably be the same for Christian as for heathen. The difference between the Christian and pagan teaching of goodness lies in this : that the heathen teaching is one of final perfection, while the Christian is one of infinite perfecting. Every heathen, non- Christian, teaching sets before men a model of final perfection ; but the Christian teaching sets before them a model of infinite perfection. Plato, for instance, makes justice the model of perfection, whereas Christ's model is the infinite perfection of love. ' Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.' In this lies the difference, and from this results the different rela- tion of pagan and Christian teaching toward different grades of virtue. According to the former, the attain- ment of the highest virtue was possible, and each step toward this attainment had its comparative merit — the higher the step the greater the merit ; so that from the pagan point of view men may be divided into moral and immoral, into more or less immoral — whereas, accord- ing to the Christian teaching, which sets up the ideal of infinite perfection, this division is impossible. There can be neither higher nor lower grades. In the Christian teaching, which shows the infinity of perfec- tion, all steps are equal in relation to the infinite ideal. Among the heathens the plane of virtue attained by a man* constituted his merit; in Christianity merit con- sists only in the process of attaining, in the greater or lesser speed of attainment. From the heathen point of view, a man who possessed the virtue of reasonableness stood morally higher than one deficient in that virtue ; a man who, in addition to reasonableness, possessed courage stood higher still ; a man who to reasonableness and courage added justice stood yet higher. But one Christian cannot be regarded as morally either higher or lower than another. A man is more or less of a Christian only in proportion to the speed with which he THE FIRST STEP 57 advances towards infinite perfection, irrespective of the stage he may have reached at a given moment. Hence the stationary righteousness of the Pharisee was worth less than the progress of the- repentant thief on the cross. Such is the difference between the Christian and the heathen teachings. Consequently the stages of virtue, as, for instance, self-control and courage, which in paganism constitute merit, constitute none whatever in Christianity. In this respect the teachings differ. But with regard to the fact that there can be no advance toward virtue, toward perfection, except by mounting the lowest steps, paganism and Christianity are alike : here there can be no difference. The Christian, like the heathen, must commence the work of perfecting himself from the beginning — i.e., at the step at which the heathen begins it, namely, self- control ; just as a man who wishes to ascend a flight of stairs cannot avoid beginning at the first step. The only difference is that for the pagan, self-control itself constitutes a virtue ; whereas for the Christian, it is only part of that self-abnegation which is itself but an indispensable condition of all aspiration after perfection. Therefore the manifestation of true Christianity could not but follow the same path that had been indicated and followed by paganism. But not all men have understood Christianity as an aspiration towards the perfection of the heavenly Father. The majority of people have regarded it as a teaching about salvation — i.e., deliverance from sin by grace transmitted through the Church, according to Catholics and Greek Orthodox ; by faith in the Re- demption, according to Protestants, the Reformed Church, and Calvinists ; or, according to some, by means of the two combined. And it is precisely this teaching that has destroyed the sincerity and seriousness of men's relation to the moral teaching of Christianity. However much the representatives of these faiths may preach that these means of salvation do not hinder man in his aspiration .58 ESSAYS AND LETTERS after a righteous life, but on the contrary contribute toward it — still, from certain assertions certain deduc- tions necessarily follow, and no arguments can prevent men from making these deductions, when once they have accepted the assertions from which they flow. If a man believe that he can be saved through grace trans- mitted by the Church, or through the sacrifice of the Redemption, it is natural for him to think that efforts of his own to live a right life are unnecessary — the more so when he is told that even the hope that his efforts will make him better is a sin. Consequently a man who believes that there are means other than per- sonal effort by which he may escape sin or its results, cannot strive with the same energy and seriousness as the man who knows no other means. And not striving with perfect seriousness, and knowing of other means besides personal effort, a man will inevitably neglect the unalterable order of succession for the attainment of the good qualities necessary to a good life. And this has happened with the majority of those who profess Christianity. The doctrine that personal effort is not necessary for the attainment of spiritual perfection by man, but that there are other means for its acquirement, caused a relaxation of efforts to live a good life and a neglect of the consecutiveness indispensable for such a life. The great mass of those who accepted Christianity, accepting it only externally, took advantage of the sub- stitution of Christianity for paganism to rid themselves of the demands of the heathen virtues — no longer neces- sary for a Christian — and to free themselves from all conflict with their animal nature. The same thing happens with those who cease to believe in the teaching of the Church. They are like the before-mentioned believers, only they put forward — instead of grace, bestowed by the Church or through Redemption — some imaginary good work, approved of THE FIRST STEP 59 by the majority of men, such as the service of science, art, or humanity ; and in the name of this imaginary good work they liberate themselves from the consecu- tive attainment of the qualities necessary for a good life, and are satisfied, like men on the stage, with pre- tending to live a good life. Those who fell away from paganism without embrac- ing Christianity in its true significance, began to preach love for God and man apart from self-renunciation, and justice without self-control ; that is to say, they preached the higher virtues omitting the lower ones : i.e., not the virtues themselves, but the semblance. Some preach love to God and man without self- renunciation, and others humaneness, the service of humanity, without self-control. And as this teaching, while pretending to introduce man into higher moral regions, encourages his animal nature by liberating him from the most elementary demands of morality — long ago acknowledged by the heathens, and not only not rejected but strengthened by true Christ- ianity — it was readily accepted both by believers and unbelievers. Only the other day the Pope's Encyclical* on Socialism was published, in which, after a pretended refutation of the Socialist view of the wrongfulness of private property, it was plainly said : ' No one is com- manded to distribute to others that which is required for his own necessities and those of his household ; nor even to give away what is reasonably required to keep up becom- ingly his condition in life ; for no one ought to live unbecomingly. 1 (This is from St. Thomas Aquinas, who says, Nullus enim inconvenienter vivere debet. ) l But when necessity has been fairly supplied, and one's position fairly considered, it is a duty to give to the indigent out of that which is over. That which remaineth give alms.' Thus now preaches the head of the most wide-spread Church. Thus have preached all the Church teachers, * This refers to the Encyclical of Pope Leo XIII. In the passage quoted the official" English translation of the Ency- clical has been followed. See the Tablet, 1891. 60 ESSAYS AND LETTERS who considered salvation by works as insufficient. And together with this teaching of selfishness, which pre- scribes that you shall give to your neighbours only what you do not want yourself, they preach love, and recall with pathos the celebrated words of Paul in the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corin- thians, about love. Notwithstanding that the Gospels overflow with demands for self-renunciation, with indications that self-renunciation is the first condition of Christian per- fection ; notwithstanding such clear expressions as : e Whosoever will not take up his cross . • .' ' Whoso- ever hath not forsaken father and mother . . .' 'Who- soever shall lose his life . . .' — people assure themselves and others that it is possible to love men without renouncing that to which one is accustomed, or even what one pleases to consider becoming for one's self. So speak the Church people ; and those who reject not only the Church but also the Christian teaching (Freethinkers) think, speak, write, and act, in just the same way. These men assure themselves and others that without in the least diminishing their needs, with- out (Overcoming their lusts, they can serve mankind — i.e., lead a good life. Men have thrown aside the heathen sequence of virtues ; but, not assimilating the Christian teaching in its true significance, they have not accepted the Christian sequence, and are left quite without guidance. In olden times, when there was no Christian teach- ing, all the teachers of life, beginning with Socrates, regarded as the first virtue of life, self-control — iyKpdreca or poing, kneading, roasting, arranging, adorning. With ike solemnity and importance a master of the cere- monies has been working, calculating, pondering, adjusting with his eye, like an artist. A gardener has beenr employed upon the flowers. Scullery-maids. . . . An army of men has been at work, the result of thousands of working days are being swallowed up, and all this that people may come together to talk about some great teacher of science or morality, or to recall the memory of a deceased friend, or to greet a young couple just entering upon a new life. In the middle and lower classes it is perfectly evident that every festivity, every funeral or wedding, means gluttony. There the matter is so understood. To such an extent is gluttony the motive of the assembly that in Greek and in French the same word means both ' wedding' and * feast.' But in the upper classes of the rich, especially among the refined, who have long possessed wealth, great skill is used to conceal this, and to make it appear that eating is a secondary matter, necessary only for appearance. And this pretence is easy, as in the majority of cases the guests are satiated in the true sense of the word — they are never hungry. THE FIRST STEP 81 They pretend that dinner, eating, is not necessary to them, is even a burden ; but this a lie. Try giving them — instead of the refined dishes they expect, I do not say bread and water, but — porridge or gruel or something of that kind, and see what a storm it will call forth, and how evident will become the real truth, namely, that the chief interest of the assembly is, not the ostensible one, but — gluttony. Look at what men sell ; go through a town and see what men buy — articles of adornment and things to devour. And indeed this must be so, it cannot be otherwise. It is only possible not to think about eat- ing, to keep this lust under control, when a man does not eat except in obedience to necessity ; but if a man ceases to eat only in obedience to necessity — i.e., when the stomach is full — then the state of things cannot but be what it actually is. If men love the pleasure of eating, if they allow themselves to love this pleasure, if they find it good (as is the case with the vast majority of men in our time, and with educated men quite as much as with uneducated, although they pretend that it is not so), there is no limit to the augmentation of this pleasure, no limit beyond which it may not grow. The satisfaction of a need has limits, but pleasure has none. For the satisfaction of our needs it is necessary and sufficient to eat bread, porridge, or rice ; for the augmentation of pleasure there is no end to the possible flavourings and seasonings. Bread is a necessary and sufficient food. (This is proved by the millions of men who are strong, active, healthy, and hard-working on rye bread alone.) But it is pleasanter to eat bread with some flavouring. It is well to soak the bread in water boiled with meat. Still better to put into this water some vegetable or, better yet, several vegetables. It is well to eat flesh. And flesh is better not stewed, but roasted ; and it is better still with butter, and underdone, and choosing out certain special parts of the meat. But add to this vegetables and mustard. And drink wine with it, red wine for preference. One does not need any more, but p 82 ESSAYS AND LETTERS one can yet eat some fish if it is well flavoured with sauces and swallowed down with white wine. It would seem as if one could get through nothing more, either rich or tasty, but a sweet dish can still be managed : in summer ices, in winter stewed fruits, preserves, etc. And thus we have a dinner, a modest dinner. The pleasure of such a dinner can be greatly augmented. And it is augmented, and there is no limit to this aug- mentation : stimulating snacks, hors-d'oeuvres before dinner, and entremets and desserts, and various com- binations of tasty things, and flowers and decorations and music during dinner. And, strange to say, men who daily overeat them- selves at such dinners — in comparison with which the feast of Belshazzar, that evoked the prophetic warning, was nothing — are naively persuaded that they may yet be leading a moral life. Fasting is an indispensable condition of a good life ; but iri fasting, as in self-control in general, the ques- tion arises, with what shall we begin ? — How to fast, how often to eat, what to eat, what to avoid eating ? And as we can do no work seriously without regarding the necessary order of sequence, so also we cannot fast with- out knowing where to begin — with what to commence self-control in food. Fasting ! And even an analysis of how to fast, and where to begin ! The notion seems ridiculous and wild to the majority of men. I remember how, with pride at his originality, an Evangelical preacher, who was attacking monastic asceticism, once said to me, ' Ours is not a Christianity of fasting and privations, but of beefsteaks/ Christ- ianity, or virtue in general — and beefsteaks ! During a long period of darkness and lack of all guidance, Pagan or Christian, so many wild, immoral ideas have made their way into our life (especially into that lower region of the first steps toward a good life — our relation to food, to which no one paid any atten- THE FIRST STEP 83 tion), that it is difficult for us even to understand the audacity and senselessness of upholding, in our days, Christianity or virtue with beefsteaks. We are not horrified by this association, solely because a strange thing has befallen us. We look and see not : listen and hear not. There is no bad odour, no sound, no monstrosity, to which man cannot become so accus- tomed that he ceases to remark what would strike a man unaccustomed to it. Precisely so it is in the moral region. Christianity and morality with beefsteaks ! A few days ago I visited the slaughter-house in our town of Toula. It is built on the new and improved system practised in large towns, with a view to causing the animals as little suffering as possible. It was on a Friday, two days before Trinity Sunday. There were many cattle there. Long before this, when reading that excellent book, The Ethics of Diet, I had wished to visit a slaughter- house, in order to see with my own eyes the 'reality of the question raised when vegetarianism is discussed. But at first I felt ashamed to do so, as one is always ashamed of going to look at suffering which one knows is about to take place, but which one cannot avert ; and so I kept putting off my visit. But a little while ago I met on the road a butcher returning to Toula after a visit to his home. He is not yet an experienced butcher, and his duty is to stab with a knife. I asked him whether he did not feel sorry for the animals that he killed. He gave me the usual answer: ' Why should I feel sorry? It is necessary/ But when I told him that eating flesh is not necessary, but is only a luxury, he agreed ; and then he admitted that he was sorry for the animals. ( But what can I do ? I must earn my bread,' he said. i At first I was afraid to kill. My father, he never even killed a chicken in all his life/ The majority of Russians cannot kill ; they feel pity, and express the feeling by the word 'fear.' This man had also been ' afraid/ but he was so no longer. He told me that most of the f 2 8J= ESSAYS AND LETTERS work was done on Fridays, when it continues until the evening. Not long ago I also had a talk with a retired soldier, a butcher, and he, too, was surprised at my assertion that it was a pity to kill, and said the usual things about its being ordained ; but afterwards he agreed with me : ( Especially when they are quiet, tame cattle. They come, poor things ! trusting you. It is very pitiful.' This is dreadful ! Not the suffering and death of the animals, but that man suppresses in himself, unneces- sarily, the highest spiritual capacity — that of sympathy and pity toward living creatures like himself — and by violating his own feelings becomes cruel. And how deeply seated in the human heart is the injunction not to take life ! Once, when walking from Moscow,* I was offered a lift by some carters who were going from Serpouhof to a neighbouring forest to fetch wood. It was the Thursday before Easter. I was seated in the first cart, witfra strong, red, coarse carman, who evidently drank. On entering a village we saw a well-fed, naked, pink pig being dragged out of the first yard to be slaughtered. It squealed in a dreadful voice, resembling the shriek of a man. Just as we were passing they began to kill it. A man gashed its throat with a knife. The pig squealed still more loudly and piercingly, broke away from the men, and ran off covered with blood. Being near-sighted I did not see all the details. I saw only the human-looking pink body of the pig and heard its desperate squeal ; but the carter saw all the details and watched closely. They caught the pig, knocked it down, and finished cutting its throat. When its squeals ceased the carter sighed heavily. f Do men really not have to answer for such things?' he said. * When returning to Yasnaya Polyana in spring, after his winter's residence in Moscow, Tolstoy repeatedly chose to walk the distance (something over 130 miles) instead of going by rail. Serpouhof is a town he had to pass on the way. THE FIRST STEP 85 So strong is man's aversion to all killing. But by example, by encouraging greediness, by the assertion that God has allowed it, and, above all, by habit, people entirely lose this natural feeling. On Friday I decided to go to Toula, and, meeting a meek, kind acquaintance of mine, I invited him to accompany me. i Yes, I have heard that the arrangements are good, and have been wishing to go and see it ; but if they are slaughtering I will not go in.' ' Why not? That's just what I want to see ! If we eat flesh it must be killed. 5 ' No, no, I cannot !' It is worth remarking that this man is a sportsman and himself kills animals and birds. So we went to the slaughter-house. Even at the entrance one noticed the heavy, disgusting, fetid smell, as of carpenter's glue, or paint on glue. The nearer we approached, the stronger became the smell. The building is of red brick, very large, with vaults and high chimneys. We entered the gates. To the right was a spacious enclosed yard, three-quarters of an acre in extent — twice a week cattle are driven in here for sale — and adjoining this enclosure was the porter's lodge. To the left were the chambers, as they are called — i.e., rooms with arched entrances, sloping asphalt floors, and contrivances for moving and hang- ing up the carcasses. On a bench against the wall of the porter's lodge were seated half a dozen butchers, in aprons covered with blood, their tucked-up sleeves disclosing their muscular arms also besmeared with blood. They had finished their work half an hour before, so that day we could only see the empty cham- bers. Though these chambers were open on both sides, there was an oppressive smell of warm blood ; the floor was brown and shining, with congealed black blood in the cavities. One of the butchers described the process of slaugh- tering, and showed us the place where it was done. I did not quite understand him, and formed a wrong, 86 ESSAYS AND LETTERS but very horrible, idea of the way the animals are slaughtered ; and 1 fancied that, as is often the case, the reality would very likely produce upon me a weaker impression than the imagination. But in this I was mistaken. The next time I visited the slaughter-house I went in good time. It was the Friday before Trinity — a warm day in June. The smell of glue and blood was even stronger and more penetrating than on my first visit. The work was at its height. The dusty yard was full of cattle, and animals had been driven into all the enclosures beside the chambers. In the street, before the entrance, stood carts to which oxen, calves, and cows were tied. Other carts drawn by good horses and filled with live calves, whose heads hung down and swayed about, drew up and were unloaded ; and similar carts containing the carcasses of oxen, with trembling legs sticking out, with heads and bright red lungs and brown livers, drove away from the slaughter-house. By the fence stood the cattle- dealers' horses. The dealers themselves, in their long coats, with their whips and knouts in their hands, were walking about the yard, either marking with tar cattle belonging to the same owner, or bargaining, or else guiding oxen and bulls from the great yard into the enclosures which lead into the chambers. These men were evidently all preoccupied with money matters and calculations, and any thought as to whether it was right or wrong to kill these animals was as far from their minds as were questions about the chemical composition of the blood that covered the floor of the chambers. No butchers were to be seen in the yard ; they were all in the chambers at work. That day about a hundred head of cattle were slaughtered. I was on the point of entering one of the chambers, but stopped short at the door. I stopped both because the chamber was crowded with carcasses which were being moved about, and also because blood was flowing on the floor and dripping from above. All the butchers present were besmeared with blood, and had I entered 1, too, should THE FIRST STEP 87 certainly have been covered with it. One suspended carcass was being taken down, another was being moved toward the door, a third, a slaughtered ox, was lying with its white legs raised, while a butcher with strong hand was ripping up its tight-stretched hide. Through the door opposite the one at which I was standing, a big, red, well-fed ox was led in. Two men were dragging it, and hardly had it entered when I saw a butcher raise a knife above its neck and stab it. The ox, as if all four legs had suddenly given way, fell heavily upon its belly, immediately turned over on one side, and began to work its legs and all its hind- quarters. Another butcher at once threw himself upon the ox from the side opposite to the twitching legs, caught its horns and twisted its head down to the ground, while another butcher cut its throat with a knife. From beneath the head there flowed a stream of blackish-red blood, which a besmeared boy caught in a tin basin. All the time this was going on the ox kept incessantly twitching its head as if trying to get up, and waved its four legs in the air. The basin was quickly filling, but the ox still lived, and, its stomach heaving heavily, both hind and fore legs worked so violently that the butchers held aloof. When one basin was full, the boy carried it away on his head to the albumen factory, while another boy placed a fresh basin, which also soon began to fill up. But still the ox heaved its body and worked its hind legs. When the blood ceased to flow the butcher raised the animal's head and began to skin it. The ox continued to writhe. The head, stripped of its skin, showed red with white veins, and kept the position given it by the butcher ; on both sides hung the skin. Still the animal did not cease to writhe. Then another butcher caught hold of one of the legs, broke it, and cut it off. In the remaining legs and the stomach the convulsions still continued. The other legs were cut off and thrown aside, together with those of other oxen belonging to the same owner. Then the carcass was dragged to the hoist and hung up, and the convulsions were over. 88 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Thus I looked on from the door at the second, third, fourth ox. It was the same with each : the same cutting off of the head with bitten tongue, and the same convulsed members. The only difference was that the butcher did not always strike at once so as to cause the animal's fall. Sometimes he missed his aim, whereupon the ox leaped up, bellowed, and, covered with blood, tried to escape* But then his head was pulled under a bar, struck a second time, and he fell. I afterwards entered by the door at which the oxen were led in. Here 1 saw the same thing, only nearer, and therefore more plainly. But chiefly I saw here, what I had not seen before, how the oxen were forced to enter this door. Each time an ox was seized in the enclosure and pulled forward by a rope tied to its horns, the animal, smelling blood, refused to advance, and sometimes bellowed and drew back. It would have been beyond the strength of two men to drag it in by force, so one of the butchers went round each time, grasped the animal's tail and twisted it so violently that the gristle crackled, and the ox advanced. When they had finished with the cattle of one owner, they brought in those of another. The first animal of this next lot was not an ox, but a bull— a fine, well-bred creature, black, with white spots on its legs, young, muscular, full of energy. He was dragged forward, but he lowered his head and resisted sturdily. Then the butcher who followed behind seized the tail, like an engine-driver grasping the handle of a whistle, twisted it, the gristle crackled, and the bull rushed forward, upsetting the men who held the rope. Then it stopped, looking sideways with its black eyes, the whites of which had filled with blood. But again the tail crackled, and the bull sprang forward and readied the required spot. The striker approached, took aim, and struck. But the blow missed the mark. The bull leaped up, shook his head, bellowed, and, covered with blood, broke free and rushed back. The men at the doorway all sprang aside ; but the experienced butchers, THE FIRST STEP 89 with the dash of men inured to danger, quickly caught the rope ; again the tail operation was repeated, and again the bull was in the chamber, where he was dragged under the bar, from which he did not again escape. The striker quickly took aim at the spot where the hair divides like a star, and, notwithstanding the blood, found it, struck, and the fine animal, full of life, collapsed, its head and legs writhing while it was bled and the head skinned. c There, the cursed devil hasn't even fallen the right way !' grumbled the butcher as he cut the skin from the head. P'ive minutes later the head was stuck up, red instead of black, without skin ; the eyes, that had shone with such splendid colour five minutes before, fixed and glassy. Afterwards I went into the compartment where small animals are slaughtered — a very large chamber with asphalt floor, and tables with backs, on which sheep and calves are killed. Here the work was already finished ; in the long room, impregnated with the smell of blood, were only two butchers. One was blowing into the leg of a dead lamb and patting the swollen stomach with his hand ; the other, a young fellow in an apron besmeared with blood, was smoking a bent cigarette. There was no one else in the long, dark chamber, filled with a heavy smell. After me there entered a man, apparently an ex-soldier, bringing in a young yearling ram, black with a white mark on its neck, and its legs tied. This animal he placed upon one of the tables, as if upon a bed. The old soldier greeted the butchers, with whom he was evidently acquainted, and began to ask when their master allowed them leave. The fellow with the cigarette approached with a knife, sharpened it on the edge of the table, and answered that they were free on holidays. The live ram was lying as quietly as the dead inflated one, except that it was briskly wagging its short little tail and its sides were heaving more quickly than usual. The soldier pressed down its uplifted head gently, 90 ESSAYS AND LETTERS without effort ; the butcher, still continuing the con- versation, grasped with his left hand the head of the ram and cut its throat. The ram quivered, and the little tail stiffened and ceased to wave. The fellow, while waiting for the blood to flow, began to relight his cigarette, which had gone out. The blood flowed and the ram began to writhe. The conversation continued without the slightest interruption. It was horribly revolting. ***** And how about those hens and chickens which daily, in thousands of kitchens, with heads cutoff and stream- ing with blood, comically, dreadfully, flop about, jerking* their wings ? And see, a kind, refined lady will devour the car- casses of these animals with full assurance that she is doing right, at the same time asserting two contra- dictory propositions : First, that she is, as her doctor assures her, so deli- cate that she cannot be sustained by vegetable food alone, and that for her feeble organism flesh is indis- pensable ; and, secondly, that she is so sensitive that she is unable, not only herself to inflict suffering on animals, but even to bear the sight of suffering. Whereas the poor lady is weak precisely because she has been taught to live upon food unnatural to man ; and she cannot avoid causing suffering to animals — for she eats them. We cannot pretend that we do not know this. We are not ostriches, and cannot believe that if we refuse to look at what we do not wish to see, it will not exist. This is especially the case when what we do not wish to see is what we wish to eat. If it were really indispens- able, or, if not indispensable, at least in some way useful ! But it is quite unnecessary,* and only serves * Let those who doubt this read the numerous books upon the subject, written by scientists and doctors — such as Dr. A. Haig's little book, Diet and Food, or his larger THE FIRST STEP 91 to develop animal feelings, to excite desire, and to promote fornication and drunkenness. And this is continually being confirmed by the fact that young, kind, undepraved people — especially women and girls — without knowing how it logically follows, feel that virtue is incompatible with beefsteaks, and, as soon as they wish to be good, give up eating flesh. What, then, do I wish to say ? That in order to be moral people must cease to eat meat? Not at all. I only wish to say that for a good life a certain order of good actions is indispensable ; that if a man's aspira- tions toward right living be serious they will inevitably follow one definite sequence ; and that in this sequence the first virtue a man will strive after will be self- control, self-restraint. And in seeking for self-control a man will inevitably follow one definite sequence, and in this sequence the first thing will be self-control in food — fasting. And in fasting, if he be really and seriously seeking to live a good life, the first thing from which he will abstain will always be the use of animal food, because, to say nothing of the excitation of the passions caused by such food, its use is simply immoral, as it involves the performance of an act which is contrary to the moral feeling — killing ; and is called forth only by greediness and the desire for tasty food. The precise reason why abstinence from animal food scientific work on Uric Acid as a Factor in the Causation of Disease — in which it is proved that flesh is not necessary for the nourishment of man. And let them not listen to these old-fashioned doctors who defend the assertion that flesh is necessary, merely because it has long been so regarded by their predecessors and by themselves ; and who defend their opinion with tenacity and malevolence, as all that is old and traditional always is defended. — L. T. While this volume was in preparation, a letter was re- ceived from Tolstoy with instructions to include the above reference to Dr. Haig's works, which had not been mentioned in previous editions of this essay. 92 ESSAYS AND LETTERS will be the first act of fasting and of a moral life is admirably explained in the book, The Ethics of Diet ; and not by one man only, but by all mankind in the persons of its best representatives during all the con- scious life of humanity. But why, if the wrongfulness — i.e., the immorality — of animal food was known to humanity so long ago, have people not yet come to acknowledge this law? will be asked by those who are accustomed to be led by public opinion rather than by reason. The answer to this question is, that the moral pro- gress of humanity — which is the foundation of every other kind of progress — is always slow ; but that the sign of true, not casual, progress is its uninterrupted- ness and its continual acceleration. And the progress of vegetarianism is of this kind. That progress, is expressed both in the words of the writers cited in the above-mentioned book and in the actual life of mankind, which from many causes is involuntarily passing more and more from carniv- orous habits to vegetable food, and is also deliber- ately following the same path in a movement which shows evident strength, and which is growing larger and larger — viz., vegetarianism. That movement has during the last ten years advanced more and more rapidly. More and more books and periodicals on this subject appear every year ; one meets more and more people who have given up meat ; and abroad, especially in Germany, England, and America, the number of vegetarian hotels and restaurants increases year by year. This movement should cause especial joy to those whose life lies in the effort to bring about the kingdom of God on earth, not because vegetarianism is in itself an important step towards that kingdom (all true steps are both important and unimportant), but because it is a siirn that the aspiration of mankind toward moral perfection is serious and sincere, for it has taken the one unalterable order of succession natural to it, beginning with the first step. THE FIRST STEP 93 One cannot fail to rejoice at this, as people could not fail to rejoice who, after striving to reach the upper story of a house by trying vainly and at random to climb the walls from different points, should at last assemble at the first step of the staircase and crowd towards it, convinced that there can be no way up except by mounting this first step of the stairs. [1892.] The above essay was written as Preface to a Russian translation of Howard William's The Ethics of Diet V NON-ACTING The editor of a Paris review, thinking that the opinions of two celebrated writers on the state of mind that is common to-day would interest me, has sent me two extracts from French newspapers — one containing Zola's speech delivered at the banquet of the General Association of Students, the other containing a letter from Dumas to the editor of the Gaulois. These documents interested me profoundly, both on account of their timeliness and the fame of their authors, and also because it would be difficult in present-day literature to find in such concise, vigorous, and brilliant form, an expression of the two funda- mental forces the sum of which moves humanity. The one is the force of routine, tending to keep humanity in its accustomed path ; the other is the force of reason and love, drawing humanity towards the light. The following is Zola's speech in extenso : Gentlemen, You have paid me a great honour, and conferred on me a great pleasure, by choosing me to preside at this Annual Banquet. There is no better or more charming society than that of the young. There is no audience more sympathetic, or before whom one's heart opens more freely with the wish to be loved and listened to. I, alas ! have reached an age at which we begin to regret our departed youth, and to pay attention to the efforts of [ 94 J NON-ACTING 95 the rising generation that is climbing up behind us. It is they who will both judge us and carry on our work. In them I feel the future coming to birth, and at times I ask myself, not without some anxiety, What of all our efforts will they reject, and what will they retain ? What will happen to our work when it has passed into their hands ? For it cannot last except through them, and it will dis- appear unless they accept it, to enlarge it and bring it to completion. That is why I eagerly watch the movement of ideas among the youth of to-day, and read the advanced papers and reviews, endeavouring to keep in touch with the new spirit that animates our schools, and striving vainly to know whither you are all wending your way — you, who represent the intelligence and the will of to-morrow. Certainly, gentlemen, egotism plays its part in the matter ; I do not hide it. I am somewhat like a workman who, finishing a house which he hopes will shelter his old age, is anxious concerning the weather he has to expect. Will the rain damage his walls ? May not a sudden wind from the north tear the roof off ? Above all, has he built strongly enough to resist the storm ? Has he spared neither durable material nor irksome labour ? It is not that I think our work eternal or final. The greatest must resign them- selves to the thought that they represent but a moment in the ever-continuing development of the human spirit ; it will be more than sufficient to have been for one hour the mouthpiece of a generation ! And since one cannot keep a literature stationary, but all things continually evolve and recommence, one must expect to see younger men born and grow up, who will, perhaps, in their turn cause you to be forgotten. I do not say that the old warrior in me does not at times desire to resist, when he feels his work attacked. But, in truth, I face the approaching century with more of curiosity than of revolt, and more of ardent sympathy than of personal anxiety ; let me perish, and let all my generation perish with me, if, indeed, we are good for nothing but to fill up the ditch for those who follow us in the march towards the light. Gentlemen, I constantly hear it said that Positivism is at its last gasp, that Naturalism is dead, that Science has reached the point of bankruptcy, having failed to supply either the moral peace or the human happiness it promised. 96 ESSAYS AND LETTERS You will well understand that I do not here undertake to solve the great problems raised by these questions. I am an ignoramus, and have no authority to speak in the name of science or philosophy. I am, if you please, simply a novelist, a writer who has at times seen a little way into the heart of things, and whose competence consists only in having observed much and worked much. And it is only as a witness that I allow myself to speak of what my genera- tion — the men who are now fifty years old, and whom your generation will soon regard as ancestors — has been, or at least has wished to be. I was much struck, a few days ago, at the opening of the Salon du Champ- de- Mars, by the characteristic appearance of the rooms. It is thought that the pictures are always much the same. That is an error. The evolution is slow ; but how astonished one would be to-day were it possible to revert to the Salons of some former years ! For my part, I well remember the last academic ana romantic exhibitions, about 1863. Work in the open air {le plein air) had not yet triumphed ; there was a general tone of bitumen, a dirtying of canvas, a prevalence of burnt colours, the semi- darkness of studios. Then, some fifteen years later, after the victorious and much-contested influence of Manet, I can recall quite other exhibitions, where the clear tone of full sunlight shone ; it was, as it were, an inundation of light, a care for truth which made each picture-frame a window opened upon Nature bathed in light. And yesterday, after another fifteen years, I could discern, amid the fresh limpidity of the productions, the rising of a kind of mystic fog. There was the same care for clear painting, but the reality was changing, the figures were more elongated, the need of originality and novelty carried the artists over into the land of dreams. If I have dwelt on these three stages of contemporary painting, I have done so because it seems to me that they correspond very strikingly to the contemporary movements of thought. My generation, indeed, following illustrious predecessors of whom we were but the successors, strove to open the windows wide to Nature, in order to see all and to say all. In our generation, even among those least conscious of it, the long efforts of positive philosophy and of analytical and experimental science came to fruition. Our fealty was to Science, which surrounded us on all sides ; in her we NON-ACTING 97 lived, breathing the air of the epoch. I am free to confess that, personalty, I was even a sectarian, who lived to trans- port the rigid methods of Science into the domain of Litera- ture. But where can the man be found who, in the stress of strife, does not exceed what is necessary, and is content to conquer without compromising his victory ? On the whole I have nothing to rfgret, and I continue to believe in the passion which wills and acts. What enthusiasm, what hope, were ours ! To know all, to prevail in all, and to conquer all ! By means of truth to make humanity more noble and more happy ! And it is at this point, gentlemen, that you, the young, appear upon the scene. I say the young, but the term is vague, distant, and deep as the sea, for where are the young ? What will it — the young generation — really become ? Who has a right to speak in its name ? I must of necessity deal with the ideas attributed to it, but if these ideas are not at all those held by many of you, I ask pardon in advance, and refer you to the men who have misled us by untrust- worthy information, more in accord, no doubt, with their own wishes than with reality. At any rate, gentlemen, we are assured that your genera- tion is parting company with ours, that you will no longer put all your hope in Science, that you have perceived so great a social and moral danger in trusting fully to her, that you are determined to throw yourselves back upon the past, in order to construct, from the debris of dead faiths, a living faith. Of course, there is no question of a complete divorce from Science ; it is understood that you accept her latest con- quests and mean to extend them. It is agreed that you will admit demonstrated truths, and efforts are even being made to fit them to ancient dogmas. But, at bottom, Science is to stand out of the road of faith— it is thrust back to its ancient rank as a simple exercise of the intelligence, an inquiry permitted so long as it does not infringe on the supernatural and the hereafter. It is said that the experi- ment has been made, and that Science can neither repeople the heavens she has emptied nor restore happiness to souls whose naive peace she has destroyed. The day of her mendacious triumph is over ; she must be modest since she cannot immediately know everything, enrich everything, heal everything. And if they dare not yet bid intelligent 98 ESSAYS AND LETTERS youth to throw away its books and desert its masters, there are already saints and prophets to be found going about to exalt the virtue of ignorance, the serenity of simplicity, and to proclaim the need a too-learned and decrepit humanity should experience of recuperating itself in the depths of a prehistoric village, among ancestors hardly detached from the earth, anteceding all society and all knowledge. I do not at all deny the crisis we are passing through — this lassitude and revolt at the end of the century, after such feverish and colossal labour, whose ambition it was to know all and to say all. It seemed that Science, which had just overthrown the old order, would promptly reconstruct it in accord with our ideal of justice and of happiness. Twenty, fifty, even a hundred years passed. And then, when it was seen that justice did not reign, that happi- ness did not come, many people yielded to a growing impatience, falling into despair, and denying that by know- ledge one can ever reach the happy land. It is a common occurrence ; there can be no action without reaction, and we are witnessing the fatigue inevitably incidental to long journeys : people sit down by the roadside — seeing the inter- minable plain of another century stretch before them, thej r despair of ever reaching their destination, and they finish by even doubting the road they have travelled, and regretting not to have reposed in a field, to sleep for ever under the stars. What is the good of advancing, if the goal is ever further removed ? What is the use of know- ing, if one may not know everything? As well let us keep our unsullied simplicity, the ignorant happiness of a child. And thus it seemed that Science, which was supposed to have promised happiness, had reached bankruptcy. But did Science promise happiness ? I do not believe it She promised truth, and the question is, whether one will ever reach happiness by way of truth. In order to content one's self with what truth gives, much stoicism will certainly be needed : absolute self-abnegation and a serenity of the satisfied intelligence which seems to be discoverable only among the chosen few. But, meanwhile, what a cry of despair rises from suffering humanity ! How can life be lived without lies and illusions ? If there is no other world — where justice reigns, where the wicked are punished and the good are recompensed — how are we to live through this NON-ACTING 99 abominable human life without revolting ? Nature is unjust and cruel, Science seems to lead us to the monstrous law of the strongest — so that all morality crumbles away and every society makes for despotism. And in the reaction which results — in that lassitude from too much knowledge of which I have spoken — there comes a recoil from the truth which is as yet but poorly explained, and seems cruel to our feeble eyes that are unable to penetrate into and to seize all its laws. No, no ! Lead us back to the peaceful slumber of ignorance ! Reality is a school of perversion which must be killed and denied, since it will lead to nothing but ugli- ness and crime. So one plunges into dreamland as the only salvation, the only way to escape from the earth, to feel confidence in the hereafter and hope that there, at last, we shall find happiness and the satisfaction of our desire for fraternity and justice. That is the despairing cry for happiness which we hear to-day. It touches me exceedingly. And notice that it rises from all sides like a cry of lamentation amid the re-echoing of advancing Science, who checks not the march of her waggons and her engines. Enough of truth ; give us chimeras ! We shall find rest only in dreams of the Non- existent, only by losing ourselves in the Unknown. There only, bloom the mystic flowers whose perfume lulls our sufferings to sleep. Music has already responded to the call, literature strives to satisfy this new thirst, and painting follows the same way. I have spoken to you of the exhibition at the Champ-de-Mars ; there you may see the bloom of all this flora of our ancient windows — lank, emaciated virgins, apparitions in twilight tints, stiff figures with the rigid gestures of the Primitivists. It is a reaction against Naturalism, which we are told is dead and buried. In any case the movement is undeniable, for it manifests itself in all modes of expression, and one must pay great attention to the study and the explanation of it, if one does not wish to despair of to-morrow. For my part, gentlemen, I, who am an old and hardened Positivist, see in it but an inevitable halt in the forward march. It is not really even a halt, for our libraries, our laboratories, our lecture-halls and our schools, are not deserted. What also reassures me is that the social soil has undergone no change ; it is still the democratic soil from which our century sprang. That a new art should flourish, \ UNJV£P 100 ESSAYS AND LETTERS or a new faith change the direction in which humanity is travelling — that faith would need a new soil which would allow it to germinate and grow : for there can be no new society without a new soil. Faith does not rise from the dead, and one can make nothing but mythologies out of dead religions. Therefore the coming century will but con- tinue our own in the democratic and scientific rush forward which has swept us along, and which still continues. What I can concede is, that in literature we limited our horizon too much. Personally, I have already regretted that I was a sectarian, in that I wished art to confine itself to proven verities. Later comers have extended the horizon by recon- quering the region of the unknown and the mysterious ; and they have done well. Between the truths fixed by science, which are henceforth immovable, and the truths Science will to-morrow seize from the region of the unknown to fix in their turn, there lies an undefined borderland of doubt and inquiry, which, it seems to me, belongs to literature as much as to science. It is there we may go as pioneers, doing our work as forerunners, and interpreting according to our characters and minds the action of unknown forces. The ideal — what is it but the unexplained : those forces of the infinite world in which we are plunged without knowing them ? But if it be permissible to invent solutions of what is unknown, dare we, therefore, call in question ascertained laws, imagining them other than they are, and thereby denying them ? As science advances it is certain that the ideal recedes : and it seems to me that the only meaning of life, the only joy we ought to attribute to life, lies in this gradual conquest, even if one has the melancholy assurance that we never shall know everything. In the unquiet times in which we live, gentlemen, — in our day so satiated and so irresolute — shepherds of the soul have arisen who are troubled in mind and ardently offer a faith to the rising generation. The offer is generous, but, unfor- tunately, the faith changes and deteriorates according to the personality of the prophet who supplies it. There are several kinds, but none of them appear to me to be very clear, or very well defined. You are asked to believe, but are not told precisely in what you should believe. Perhaps it cannot bo told, or perhaps they dare not tell it. You are to believe for the pleasure of believing, and, NON-ACTING 101 especially, that you may learn to believe. The advice is not bad in itself ; it is certainly a great happiness to rest in the certainty of a faith — no matter what it may be ; but the worst of it is that one is not master of this virtue : it bloweth where it listeth. I, therefore, am also going to finish by proposing to you a faith, and by beseeching you to have faith in work. Work, young people ! I well know how trivial such advice appears : no speech-day passes at which it is not repeated amid the general indifference of the scholars. But I ask you to reflect on it, and I — who have been nothing but a worker — will permit myself to speak of all the benefit I have derived from the long task that has filled my life. I had no easy start in life ; I have known want and despair. Later on I lived in strife, and I live in it still — discussed, denied, covered with abuse. Well, I have had but one faith, one strength — work ! What has sustained me was the enormous labour I set myself. Before me stood always in the distance the goal toward which I was marching, and that sufficed to set me on my feet and to give me courage to advance in spite of all, when life's hardships had cast me down. The work of which I speak to you is the regular work, the daily task, the duty one has undertaken, to advance one step each day toward the fulfilment of one's engagement. How often in the morning have I sat down to my table — my head in con- fusion — a bitter taste in my mouth — tortured by some great sorrow, physical or moral ! And each time — in spite of the revolt my suffering has caused — after the first moments of agony my task has been to me an alleviation and a comfort. I have always come from my daily task consoled — with a broken heart, perhaps, but erect and able to live on till the morrow. Work ! Reme.mber, gentlemen, that it is the sole law of the world, the regulator bringing organic matter to its unknown goal ! Life has no other meaning, no other raison d'ttre ; we, each of us, appear but to perform our allotted task and to disappear. One cannot define life otherwise than by the movement it receives and bequeaths, and which is, in reality, nothing but work, work at the final achievement accom- plished by all the ages. And, therefore, how can we be other than modest, how can we do other than accept the individual task given to each of us, and accept it without rebellion and without yielding to the pride of one's personal 102 ESSAYS AND LETTERS 'I,' which considers itself a centre and does not wish to take its place in the ranks ? From the time one accepts that task, and from the time one begins to fulfil it, it seems to me tranquillity should come even to those most tormented. I know that there are minds tortured by thoughts of the Infinite, minds that suffer from the presence of mystery, and it is to them I address myself as a brother, advising them to occupy their lives with some immense labour, of which it were even well that they should never see the completion. It will be the balance enabling them to march straight ; it will be a con- tinual diversion — grain thrown to their intelligence, that it may grind and convert it into daily bread, with the satis- faction that comes of duty accomplished. It is true this solves no metaphysical problems ; it is but an empirical recipe enabling one to live one's life honestly and more or less tranquilly ; but is it a small thing to obtain a sound state of moral and physical health, and to escape the danger of dreams, while solving by work the question of finding the greatest happiness possible on this earth ? I have always, I admit, distrusted chimeras. Nothing is less wholesome for men and nations than illusion ; it stifles effort, it blinds, it is the vanity of the weak. To repose on legends, to be mistaken about all realities, to believe that it is enough to dream of force in order to be strong — we have seen well enough to what terrible disasters such things lead. The people are told to look on high, to believe in a Higher Power, and to exalt themselves to the ideal. No, no ! That is language which at times seems to me impious. The only strong people are those who work, and it is only work that gives courage and faith. To conquer it is neces- sary that the arsenals should be full, that one should have the strongest and the most perfect armament, that the army should be trained, should have confidence in its chiefs and in itself. All this can be acquired ; it needs but the will and the right method. You may be well assured that the coming century and the illimitable future belong to work. And, in the rising force of Socialism, does one not already see the rough sketch of the social law of to-morrow, the law of work for all — liberating and pacifying work ? Young men, young men, take up your duties ! Let each one accept his task, a task which should fill his life. It NON-ACTING 103 may be very humble ; it will not be the less useful. Never mind what it is, so long as it exists and keeps you erect ! When you have regulated it, without excess— just the quantity you are able to accomplish each day — it will cause you to live in health and in .joy : it will save you from the torments of the Infinite. What a healthy and great society that will be — a society each member of which will bear his reasonable share of work ! A man who works is always kind. So I am convinced that the only faith that can save us is a belief in the efficacy of accomplished toil. Certainly it is pleasant to dream of eternity. But for an honest man it is enough to have lived his life, doing his work. Emile Zola. M. Zola does not approve of this faith in something vague and ill-defined, which is recommended to French youth by its new guides ; yet he himself advises belief in something which is neither clearer nor better defined — namely, in science and in work. A little-known Chinese philosopher, named Lao- Tsze, who founded a religion (the first and best transla- tion of his book, ( Of the Way of Virtue/ is that by Stanislas Julien), takes as the foundation of his doc- trine the Tao — a word that is translated as ' reason, way, and virtue/ If men follow the law of Tao they will be happy. But the Tao, according to M. Julien's translation, can only be reached by non-acting. The ills of humanity arise, according to Lao-Tsze, not because men neglect to do things that are neces- sary, but because they do things that are unnecessary. If men would, as he says, but practise non-acting, they would not merely be relieved from their personal calamities, but also from those inherent in all forms of government, which is the subject specially dealt with by the Chinese philosopher. M. Zola tells us that all should work persistently ; work will make their life healthy and joyous, and will save them from the torment of "the Infinite. Work ! But what are we to work at ? The manufacturers of, and the dealers in, opium, or tobacco, or brandy — all the speculators on the Stock Exchange, the inventors 104 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and manufacturers of weapons of destruction, all the military, the gaolers and executioners — all work : but it is obvious that mankind would be better off were these workers to cease working. But perhaps M. Zola's advice refers only to those whose work is inspired by science. The greater part of his speech is, in fact, designed to uphold science, which he thinks is being attacked. Well, it so happens that I am continually receiving from various unappre- ciated authors — pamphlets, manuscripts, treatises, and printed books — the outcome of their scientific labours. One of them has finally solved, so he says, the ques- tion of Christian gnosiology ; another has written a book on the cosmic ether ; a third has settled the social question ; a fifth is editing a theosophical review ; a sixth (in a thick volume) has solved the problem of the Knight's tour at chess. All these people work assiduously, and work in the name of science, but I do not think I am mistaken in saying that my correspondents' time and work, and the time and work of many other such people, have been spent in a way not merely useless, but even harmful ; for thousands of men are engaged making the paper, casting the type, and manufacturing the presses needed to print their books, and to feed, clothe, and house all these scientific workers. Work for science ? But the word ' science ' has so large and so ill-defined a meaning that what some con- sider science others consider futile folly ; and this is so, not merely among the profane, but even among men who are themselves priests of science. While one set of the learned esteem jurisprudence, philosophy, and even theology, to be the most necessary and important of sciences, the Positivists consider just those very sciences to be childish twaddle devoid of scientific value. And, vice versa, what the Positivists hold to be the science of sciences, sociology, is regarded by the theologians, the philosophers, and the spiritualists, as a collection of arbitrary and useless observations and assertions. More than this, even in one and the same NON-ACTING 105 branch, whether it be philosophy or natural science, each system has its ardent defenders and opponents, just as ardent, equally competent, though maintaining diametrically opposite views. Lastly, does not each year produce its new scientific discoveries, which, after astonishing the boobies of the whole world, and bringing fame and fortune to the inventors, are eventually admitted to be ridiculous mis- takes, even by those who promulgated them ? We all know that what the Romans valued as the greatest science and the most important occupation — that which distinguished them from the barbarians — was rhetoric, which now does not even rank as a science at all. Equally difficult is it to-day to understand the state of mind of the learned men of the Middle Ages, who were fully convinced that all science was concen- trated in scholasticism. Unless, then, our century forms an exception (which is a supposition we have no right to make), it needs no great boldness to conclude, by analogy, that among the kinds of knowledge occupying the attention of our learned men, and called science, there must necessarily be some which will be regarded by our descendants much as we now regard the rhetoric of the ancients and the scholasticism of the Middle Ages. M. Zola's speech is chiefly directed against certain leaders who are persuading the young generation to return to religious beliefs ; for M. Zola, as champion of science, considers himself an adversary of theirs. Really he is nothing of the sort, for his reasoning rests on the same basis as that of his opponents, namely (as he himself admits), on faith. It is a generally accepted opinion that religion and science are opposed to one another. And they really are so, but only in point of time ; that is to say, that what is considered science by one generation often becomes religion for their descendants. What is 106 ESSAYS AND LETTERS usually spoken of as religion is generally the science of the past,, while what is called science is, to a great extent, the religion of the present. We say that the assertions of the Hebrews that the world was created in six days ; that sons would be punished for their father's sins ; that certain diseases could be cured by the sight of a serpent, were religious statements ; while the assertions of our contemporaries that the world created itself by turning round a centre which is everywhere, that all the different species arose from the struggle for existence, that criminals are the product of heredity, that micro-organisms, shaped like commas, exist, which cause certain diseases — we call scientific statements. By reverting in imagination to the state of mind of an ancient Hebrew, it becomes easy to see that for him the creation of the world in six days, the serpent that cured diseases, etc., were state- ments of science in accord with its highest stage of development, just as the Darwinian law, Koch's commas, heredity, etc., are for a man of our day. And just as the Hebrew believed not so much in the creation of the world in six days, in the serpent that healed certain diseases, etc., as in the infallibility of his priests, and, therefore, in all that they told him — so to-day the great majority of cultured people believe, not in the formation of the world by rotation, nor in heredity, nor in the comma bacilli, but in the infallibility of the secular priests, called scientists, who, with an assurance equal to that of the Hebrew priests, assert whatever they pretend to know. I will even go so far as to say that if the ancient priests, controlled by none but their own colleagues, allowed themselves at times to diverge from the path of truth merely for the pleasure of astonishing and mysti- fying their public, our modern priests of science do much the same thing, and do it with equal effrontery. The greater part of what is called religion is simply the superstition of past ages ; the greater part of what is called science is nothing but the superstition of to-day. And I suppose that the proportion of error NON-ACTING 107 and of truth is much about the same in the one as in the other. Consequently, to work in the name of a faith, whether religious or scientific, is not merely a doubtful method of helping humanity, but is a dangerous method which may do more harm than good. To consecrate one's life to the fulfilment of duties imposed by religion — prayers, communions, alms — or, on the other hand, to devote it, as M. Zola advises, to some scientific work, is to run too great a risk : for on the brink of death one may find that the religious or scientific principle to whose service one has consecrated one's whole life was all a ridiculous error ! Even before reading the speech in which M. Zola extols work of any kind as a merit, I was always sur- prised by the opinion, especially prevalent in Western Europe, that work is a kind of virtue. It always seemed to me that only an irrational being, such as the ant of the fable, could be excused for exalting work to the rank of a virtue, and boasting of it. M. Zola assures us that work makes men kind ; I have always observed the contrary. Not to speak of selfish work, aiming at the profit or fame of the worker, which is always bad ; self-conscious work, the pride of work, makes not only ants, but men, cruel. Who does not know those men, inaccessible to truth or to kindliness, who are always so busy that they never have time either to do good or even to ask themselves whether their work is not harmful ? You say to such people, e Your work is useless, perhaps even harmful. Here are the reasons ; pause awhile ; let us examine the matter/ They will not listen to you, but scornfully reply, ' It's ali very well for you, who have nothing to do, to argue, but "have I time for discussions ? I have worked all my life, and work does not wait ; I have to edit a daily paper, with half a million subscribers ; I have to organize the army ; I have to build the Eiffel Tower, to arrange the Chicago Exhibition, to pierce the Isthmus of Panama, to investigate the problem of heredity, or of telepathy, or of how many times this classical author has used such and such words/ 108 ESSAYS AND LETTERS The most cruel of men — the Neros, the Peter the Greats — were constantly occupied, never remaining" for a moment at their own disposal without activity or amusement. Even if work be not a vice, it can from no point of view be considered a virtue. Work can no more be considered a virtue than nutrition. Work is a necessity, to be deprived of which involves suffering, and to raise it to the rank of a merit is as monstrous as it would be to do the same for nutrition. The strange value our society attaches to work can only be explained as a reaction from the view held by our ancestors, who thought idleness an attribute of nobility, and almost a merit, as indeed it is still regarded by some rich and uneducated people to-day. Work, the exercise of our organs, cannot be a merit, because it is a necessity for every man and every animal — as is shown alike by the capers of a tethered calf and by the silly exercises to which rich and well-fed people among ourselves are addicted, who find no more reason- able or useful employment for their mental faculties than reading newspapers and novels, or playing chess or cards, nor for their muscles than gymnastics, fencing, lawn-tennis, and racing. In my opinion, not only is work not a virtue, but in our ill-organized society it is often a moral anaesthetic, like tobacco, wine, and other means of stupefying and blinding one's self to the disorder and emptiness of our lives ; and it is just as such that M. Zola recommends it to young people. Dumas says something quite different. in. The following is the letter he sent to the editor of the Gaulois : Dear Sir, You ask my opinion of the aspirations which seem to be arising among the students in the schools, and of the polemics which preceded and followed the incidents at the Sorbonne. NON-ACTING 109 I should prefer not to express my opinion further on any matter whatever. Those who were of our opinion will con- tinue to be so for some time yet ; those who held other views will cling to them more and more tenaciously. It would be better to have no discussions. ' Opinions are like nails, ' said a moralist, a friend of mine : * the more one hits them the more one drives them in.' It is not that I have no opinion on what one calls the great questions of life, and on the diverse forms in which the mind of man momentarily clothes the subjects of which it treats. Rather, that opinion is so correct and absolute, that I prefer to keep it for my own guidance, having no ambition to create anything, or to destroy anything. I should have to go back to great political, social, philo- sophical and religious problems, and that would take us too far, were I to follow you in the study you are commencing of the small exterior occurrences they have lately aroused, and that they arouse in each new generation. Each new generation, indeed, comes with ideas and passions old as life itself, which each generation believes no one has ever had before, for it, for the first time, finds itself subject to their influence, and is convinced it is about to change the aspect of everything. Humanity for thousands of years has been trying to solve that great problem of cause and effect, which will, perhaps, take thousands of years yet to settle, if, indeed (as I think it should be), it is ever settled. Of this problem children of twenty declare that they have an irrefutable solution in their quite young heads. And as a first argument, at the first discussion, one sees them hitting those who do not share their opinions. Are we to conclude that this is a sign that a whole society is readopting the religious ideal, which has been temporarily obscured and abandoned ? Or is it not, with all these young apostles, simply a physiological question of warm blood and vigorous muscles, such as threw the young generation of twenty years ago into the opposite movement ? I incline to the latter supposition. He would indeed be foolish, who in these manifestations of an exuberant period of life found proof of development that was final, or even durable. There is in it nothing more than an attack of growing fever. Whatever the ideas may be, for the sake of which these young people have been hitting one another, we may safely wager that they will 110 ESSAYS AND LETTERS resist them at some future day, if their own children repro- duce them. Age and experience will have come by that time. Sooner or later many of these combatants and adversaries of to-day will meet on the cross-roads of life, somewhat wearied, somewhat dispirited by their struggle with realities, and hand-in-hand will find their way back to the main road, regretfully acknowledging that, in spite of all their early convictions, the world remains round, and continues always turning in one and the same direction, and that the same horizons ever reappear under the same infinite and fixed sky. After having disputed and fought to their hearts' content, some in the name of faith, others in the name of science, both to prove there is a God, and to prove there is no God (two propositions about which one might fight for ever should it be decided not to disarm till the case was proven), they will finally discover that the one knows no more about it than the other, but that what they may all be sure of is, that man needs hope as much if not more than he needs knowledge — that he suffers abominably from the uncertainty he is in concerning the things of most interest to him, that he is ever in quest of a better state than that in which he now exists, and that he should be left at full liberty, especially in the realms of philosophy, to seek this happier condition. He sees around him a universe which existed before he did, and will last after he is gone ; he feels and knows it to be eternal, and in its duration he would like to share. From the moment he was called to life he demanded his share of the permanent life that surrounds him, raises him, mocks him, and destroys him. Now that he has begun he does not wish to end. He loudly demands, and in low tones pleads for, a certainty which ever evades him — fortunately, since certain knowledge would mean for him immobility and death, for the most powerful motor of human energv is uncertainty. And as he cannot reach certainty, he wanders to and fro in the vague ideal ; and whatever excursions he may make into scepticism and negation, whether from pride, curiosity, anger, or for fashion's sake, he ever returns to the hope he certainly cannot forego. Like lovers' quarrels, it is not for long. So there are, at times, obscurations, but never any com- plete obliteration of the human ideal. Philosophical mists NON-ACTING 111 pass over it, like clouds that pass before the moon ; but the white orb, continuing its course, suddenly reappears from behind them intact and shining. Man's irresistible need of an ideal explains why he has accepted with such confidence, such rapture, and without reason's control, the various religious formulas which, while promising him the Infinite, have presented it to him conformably with his nature, enclosing it in the limits always necessary even to the ideal. But for centuries past, and especially during the last hundred years, at each new stage, new men, more and more numerous, emerge from the darkness, and in the name of reason, science, or observation, dispute the old truths, declare them to be relative, and wish to destroy the formulas which contain them. Who is in the right in this dispute ? All are right while they seek ; none are right when they begin to threaten. Between truth, which is the aim, and free inquiry, to which all have a right, force is quite out of place, notwithstanding celebrated examples to the contrary. Force merely drives further back that at which we aim. It is not merely cruel, it is also useless, and that is the worst of faults in all that concerns civilization. No blows, however forcibly delivered, will ever prove the existence or the non-existence of God. To conclude, or, rather, to come to an end, — seeing that the Power, whatever it be, that created the world (which, I think, certainly cannot have created itself) has, for the present, while using us as its instruments, reserved to itself the privilege of knowing why it has made us and whither it is leading us — seeing that this Power (in spite of all inten- tions attributed to it, in spite of all the demands made upon it) appears ever more and more determined to guard its own secret — I believe, if I may say all I think, that mankind is beginning to cease to try to penetrate that eternal mystery. Mankind went to religions, which proved nothing, for they differed among themselves ; it went to philosophies, which revealed no more, for they contradicted one another ; and it will now try to find its way out of the difficulty by itself, trusting to its own instinct and its own simple good sense ; and since mankind finds itself here on earth without knowing why or how, it is going to try to be as happy as it can with just those means the earth supplies. Zola recently, in a remarkable address to students, recom- mended to them work as a remedy, and even as a panacea, 112 ESSAYS AND LETTERS for all the ills of life. Labor improbus omnia vincit. The remedy is familiar, nor is it less good on that account , but it is not, never has been, and never will be, sufficient. Whether he works with limbs or brain, man must have some other aim than that of gaining his bread, making a fortune, or becoming famous. Those who confine themselves to such aims feel, even when they have gained their object, that something is still lacking, for no matter what we may say, or what we may be told, man has not only a body to be nourished, an intelligence to be cultivated and developed, but also, assuredly, a soul to be satisfied. That soul, too, i3 incessantly at work, ever evolving toward light and truth. And so long as it has not reached full light and conquered the whole truth, it will continue to torment man. Well! The soul never so harassed man, never so dominated him, as it does to-day. It is as though it were in the air we all breathe. The few isolated souls that had separately de- sired the regeneration of society have, little by little, sought one another out, beckoned one another, drawn nearer, united, comprehended one another, and formed a group, a centre of attraction, toward which others now fly from the four quarters of the globe, like larks toward a mirror. They have, as it were, formed one collective soul, so that men, in future, may realize together, consciously and irresistibly, the approaching union and steady progress of nations that were but recently hostile one to another. This new soul I find and recognise in events seemingly most calculated to deny it. These armaments of all nations, these threats their repre- sentatives address to one another, this recrudescence of race persecutions, these hostilities among compatriots, and even these youthful escapades at the Sorbonne, are all things of evil aspect, but not of evil augury. They are the last con- vulsions of that which is about to disappear. The social body is like the human body. Disease is but a violent effort of the organism to throw off a morbid and harmful element. Those who have profited, and expect for long or for ever to continue to profit by the mistakes of the past, are uniting to prevent any modification of existing conditions. Hence these armaments, and threats, and. nersecutions ; but look carefully and you will see that all this is quite super- ficial. It is colossal, but hollow. There is no longer any NON-ACTING 113 soul in it — the soul has gone elsewhere ; these millions of armed men who are daily drilled to prepare for a general war of extermination, no longer hate the men they are expected to fight, and none of their leaders dares to proclaim this war. As for the appeals, and even the threatening claims, that rise from the suffering and the oppressed — a great and sincere pity, recognising their justice, begins at last to respond from above. Agreement is inevitable, and will come at an appointed time, nearer than is expected. I know not if it be because I shall soon leave this earth and the rays that are already reaching me from below the horizon have disturbed my sight, but I believe our world is about to begin to realize the words, 'Love one another,' without, however, being concerned whether a man or a God uttered them. The spiritual movement one recognises on all sides, and which so many naive and ambitious men expect to be able to direct, will be absolutely humanitarian. Mankind, which does nothing moderately, is about to be seized with a frenzy, a madness, of love. This will not, of course, happen smoothly or all at once ; it will involve misunderstandings — even sanguinary ones perchance — so trained and so accustomed have we been to hatred, even by those, sometimes, whose mission it was to teach us to love one another. But it is evident that this great law of brotherhood must be accom- plished some day, and I am convinced that the time is commencing when our desire for its accomplishment will become irresistible. A. Dumas. June 1, 1893. There is a great difference between Dumas' letter and Zola's speech, not to mention the external fact that Zola seems to court the approval of the youths he addresses, whereas Dumas' letter does not flatter them, nor tell them they are important people and that everything depends on them (which they should never believe if they wish to be good for anything) ; on the contrary, it points out to them their habitual faults : their presumption and their levity. The chief difference between these two writings consists in the fact that Zola's speech aims at keeping men in the path they are H 114 ESSAYS AND LETTERS travelling, by making them believe that what they know is just what they need to know, and that what they are doing is just what they ought to be doing — whereas Dumas' letter shows them that they ignore what it is essential for them to know, and do not live as they ought to live. The more fully men believe that humanity can be led, in spite of itself, by some external, self-acting, force (whether religion or science) to a beneficial change in its existence — and that they need only work in the established order of things — the more difficult will it be to accomplish any beneficial change, and it is in this respect chiefly that Zola's speech errs. On the contrary, the more fully men believe that it depends on themselves to modify their mutual relations, and that they can do this when they like, by loving each other instead of tearing one another to pieces as they do at present — the more will a change become possible. The more fully men let themselves be in- fluenced by this suggestion, the more will they be drawn to realize Dumas' prediction. That is the great merit of his letter. Dumas belongs to no party and to no religion : he has as little faith in the superstitions of the past as in those of to-day, and that is why he observes and thinks, and sees not only the present but also the future — as those did who in ancient times were called seers. It will seem strange to those who in reading a writer's works see only the contents of the book, and not the soul of the writer, that Dumas — the author of La Dame aux Camelias, and of V Affaire Clemenceau — that this same Dumas should see into the future and should prophesy. But, however strange it may seem, prophecy making itself heard — not in the desert or on the banks of the Jordan, from the mouth of a hermit clothed in skins of beasts — but published in a daily paper on the banks of the Seine, remains none the less prophecy. And the words of Dumas have all the characteristics of prophecy : First, like all prophecy, it runs quite counter to the general disposition of the people among NON-ACTING 115 whom it makes itself heard ; secondly,, those who hear it feel its truth, they know not why ; and thirdly, and chiefly, it moves men to the realization of what it foretells. Dumas predicts that, after having tried everything else, men will seriously apply to life the law of brotherly love, and that this change will take place much sooner than we expect. One may question the nearness of this change, or even its possibility ; but it is plain that should it take place it will solve all contradictions and all difficulties, and will divert all the evils with which the end of the century sees us threatened. The only objection, or rather the only question, one can put to Dumas is this : * If the love of one's neigh- bour is possible, and is inherent in human nature, why have so many thousand years elapsed (for the command to love God and one's neighbour did not begin with I Christ, but had been given already by Moses) without men, who knew this means of happiness, having prac- tised it ? What prevents the manifestation of a senti- ment so natural and so helpful to humanity? It is evidently not enough to say, e Love one another/ That has been said for three thousand years past : it is in- cessantly repeated from all pulpits, religious or even secular ; yet men continue none the less exterminating instead of loving one another as they have been bidden to do for so many centuries. In our day no one any longer doubts that if, instead of tearing one another to pieces (each seeking his own welfare, that of his family, or that of his country), men would help one another : if they would replace egotism by love, if they would organize their life on collectivist instead of on indi- vidualist principles (as the Socialists express it in their wretched jargon), if they loved one another as they love themselves, or if, at least, they did not do to others what they do not wish to have done to themselves, as has been well expressed for two thousand years past — the share of personal happiness gained by each man would be greater, and human life in general would be reasonable and happy instead of being, what it now is, a succession of contradictions and sufferings. h 2 116 ESSAYS AND LETTERS No one doubts that if men continue to snatch from one another the ownership of the soil and the pro- ducts of their labour, the revenge of those who are deprived of the right to till the soil will not much longer be delayed, but the oppressed will retake with violence and vengeance all that of which they have been robbed. No one doubts that the arming of the nations will lead to terrible massacres, and to the ruin and degeneration of all the peoples enchained in the circle of armaments. No one doubts that the present order of tilings, if it continues for some dozens of years longer, will lead to a general breakdown. We have but to open our eyes, to see the abyss toward which we are advancing. But the prophecy cited by Jesus seems realized among the men of to-day : they have ears that hear not, eyes that see not, and an intelligence that does not understand. Men of our day continue to live as they have lived, and do not cease to do things that must inevitably lead to their destruction. Moreover, men of our world recognise, if not the religious law of love, at least the moral rule of that Christian principle : not to do to others what one does not wish done to one's self ; but they do not practise it. Evidently some greater reason exists preventing their doing what is to their advantage, what would save them from menacing dangers, and what is dictated by the law of their God and by their conscience. Must it be said that love applied to life is a chimera ? If so, how is it that for so many centuries men have allowed themselves to be deceived by this unrealizable dream ? It were time to see through it. But mankind can neither decide to follow the law of love in daily life, nor to abandon the idea. How is this to be explained ? What is the reason of this con- tradiction lasting through centuries? It is not that the men of our time neither wish nor are able to do what is dictated alike by their good sense, by the danger! of their situation, and above all by the law of him whom they call God and by their conscience — but it is becanfie they act just as M. Zola advises : they are busy, they NON-ACTING 117 all labour at some work commenced long ago and in which it is impossible to pause to concentrate their thoughts, or to consider what they ought to be. All the great revo lutio ns in men's lives are made in thought. When a change takes place in man's thought, action follows the direction of thought as inevitably as a ship follows the direction given by its rudder. IV. When he first preached, Jesus did not say, c Love one another ' (he taught love later on to his disciples : to men who had understood his teaching), but he said what John the Baptist had preached before : repentance, fierdvoia — that is to say, a change in the conception of life. MeravoeTre — change your view of life, or you will all perish, said he. The meaning of your life cannot con- sist in the pursuit of your personal well-being, or in that of your family or of your nation, for such happi- ness can be obtained only at the expense of others. Realize that the meaning of your life can consist only in accomplishing the will of him that sent you into this life, and who demands of you, not the pursuit of your personal interests, but the accomplishment of his aims — the establishment of the Kingdom of Heaven, as Jesus said. Meravoe'iTe — change your way of understanding life, or you will all perish, said he, 1,800 years ago ; and he continues to repeat the same to-day, by all the contra- dictions and woes of our time, which all come from the fact that men have not listened to him, and have not accepted the understanding of life he offered them. MeravoelTe, said he, or you will all perish. The alterna- tive remains the same to-day. The only difference is, that now it is more pressing. If it were possible 2,000 years ago, in the time of the Roman Empire, in the days of Charles V., or even before the Revolution and the Napoleonic wars, not to see the vanity — I will even say the absurdity — of attempts made to obtain per- sonal happiness, family happiness, or national happi- 118 ESSAYS AND LETTERS ness, by struggling against all those who sought the same personal, family, or national happiness — that illusion has become quite impossible in our time for anyone who will pause — were it but for a moment — from his occupations, and will reflect on what he is, on what the world around him is, and on what he ought to be. So that were I called on to give one single piece of advice — the one I considered most useful for men of our century — I should say but this to them : ' For God's sake, pause a moment, cease your work, look around you, think of what you are, and of what you ought to be — think of the ideal/ M. Zola says that people should not look on high, nor believe in a Higher Power, nor exalt themselves to the ideal. Probably M. Zola understands by the word ' ideal' either the supernatural — that is to say, the theological rubbish about the Trinity, the Church, the Pope, etc. — or else the unexplained, as he calls the forces of the vast world in which we are plunged. And in that case men would do well to follow M. Zola's advice. But the fact is that the ideal is neither supernatural nor ' unexplained.' The ideal, on the contrary, is the most natural of things ; I will not say it is the most explained, but it is that of which man is most sure. An ideal in geometry is the perfectly straight line or the circle whose radii are all equal ; in science it is exact truth ; in morals it is perfect virtue. Though these things — the straight line, exact truth, and perfect virtue — have never existed, they are not only more natural to us, more known and more explicable than all our other knowledge, but they are the only things we know truly and with complete certainty. It is commonly said that reality is that which exists ; or, that only what exists is real. Just the contrary is the case : true reality, that which we really know, is what has never existed. The ideal is the only thing we know with certainty, and it has never existed. It is only thanks to the ideal that we know anything at all ; and that is why the ideal alone can guide us in our lives, either individually or collectively. The Christian NON-ACTING 119 ideal has stood before us for eighteen centuries ; it shines, to-day, with such intensity that it needs great effort to avoid seeing that all our woes arise from the fact that we do not accept its guidance. But the more difficult it becomes to avoid seeing this, the more some people increase their efforts to persuade us to do as they do : to close our eyes in order not to see. To be quite sure to reach port one must, above all, throw the compass overboard, say they, and forge ahead. Men of our Christian world are like people who strain themselves with efforts to get rid of some object that spoils life for them, but who, in their hurry, have no time to agree, and all pull in different directions. It would be enough for man to-day to pause in his activity and to reflect — comparing the demands of his reason and of his heart with the actual conditions of life — in order to perceive that his whole life and all his actions are in incessant and glaring contradiction to his reason and his heart. Ask each man of our time separately what are the moral bases of his conduct, and they will almost all tell you that they are the principles of Christianity, or at least those of justice. And in saying this they will be sincere. According to their con- sciences, all men should live as Christians ; but see how they behave : they behave like wild beasts. So that for the great majority of men in our Christian world, the organization of their life corresponds, not to their way of perceiving or feeling, but to certain forms once necessary for other people with quite dif- ferent perceptions of life, but existing now merely because the constant bustle men live in allows them no time for reflection. If in former times (when the evils produced by pagan life were not so evident, and especially when Christian principles were not yet so generally accepted) men were able conscientiously to uphold the servitude of the workers, the oppression of man by man, penal law, 120 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and, above all, war — it has now become quite impos- sible to explain the raison d'etre of such institutions. In our time men may continue to live a pagan life, but they cannot excuse it. That men may change their way of living and feeling, they must first of all change their way of thinking ; and that such a change may take place, they must pause, and attend to the things they ought to under- stand. To hear what is shouted to them by those who wish to save them, men who run singing towards a precipice must cease their clamour and must stop. Let men of our Christian world but stop their work and reflect for a moment on their condition, and they will involuntarily be led to accept the conception of life given by Christianity — a conception so natural, so simple, and responding so completely to the needs of the mind and the heart of humanity that it will arise, almost of itself, in the understanding of anyone who has freed himself, were it but for a moment, from the entangle- ments in which he is held by the complications of work — his own and that of others. The feast has been ready for eighteen centuries ; but one will not come because he has just bought some land, another because he has married, a third because he has to try his oxen, a fourth because he is building a railway, a factory, is engaged on missionary sen ice, is busy in Parliament, in a bank, or on some scientific, artistic, or literary work. During 2,000 years no one has had leisure to do what Jesus advised at the begin- ning of his ministry : to look round him, think of the results of his work, and ask himself : What am I ? For what do I exist? Is it possible that the power that has produced me, with my reason and my desire to love and be loved, has done this only to deceive me, — so that, having imagined the aim of life to be my personal well-being — that my life belonged to me, and I had the right to dispose of it as well as of the livw of others, as seemed best to me — I come at last to the conviction that this well-being (personal, family, or national) that I aimed at, cannot be attained, and that NON-ACTING 121 the more I strive to reach it, the more I find myself in conflict with my reason and with my wish to love and be loved, and the more I experience disenchantment and suffering ? Is it not more probable that, not having come into the world by my own will, but by the will of him who sent me, my reason and my wish to love and be loved were given to guide me in doing that will ? Once this neravoia is acomplished in men's thought, and the pagan and egotistic conception of life has been replaced by the Christian conception, the love of one's neighbour will become more natural than struggle and egotism now are. And once the love of one's neigh- bour becomes natural to man, the new conditions of Christian life will come about spontaneously, just as, in a liquid saturated with salt, the crystals begin to form as soon as one ceases to stir it. And in order that this may result, and that men may organize their life in conformity with their consciences, they need expend no positive effort ; they need only pause in efforts they are now making. If men spent but a hundredth part of the energy they now devote to material activities — disapproved of by their own con- sciences — to elucidating as completely as possible the demands of that conscience, expressing them clearly, spreading them abroad, and, above all, putting them in practice, the change which M. Dumas and all the prophets have foretold would be accomplished among us much sooner and more easily than we suppose, and men would acquire the good that Jesus promised them in his glad tidings : ( Seek the Kingdom of Heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you.' [August 9, o.s., 1895.] This essay was written first in Russian, and then (after a misleading translation had appeared in France) in French, also, by Tolstoy. The second version differed in arrange- ment from the first, and has, at Tolstoy's own request, been relied upon in preparing the present translation. In a few places, however — and especially by including 122 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Zola's speech and Dumas' letter in full — the earlier version has been followed. Grateful acknowledgment is due to the Oaulois for per- mission to reproduce Dumas' letter ; to M. E. Fasquelle, of the Bibliotheque Charpentier, for permission to reproduce Zola's speech ; and to Mr. E. J. W. Warren for allowing his excellent translation of Tolstoy's French essay to be followed in a number of passages in the present translation. VI AN AFTERWORD TO AN ACCOUNT RENDERED OF RELIEF SUPPLIED TO THE FAMINE- STRICKEN, IN THE GOVERNMENT OF TOULA, IN 1891 AND 1892 Our two years' experience in distributing among a suffering population contributions that passed through our hands, have quite confirmed our long-established conviction that most of the want and destitution — and the suffering and grief that go with them — which we, almost in vain, have tried to counteract by external means in one small corner of Russia, has arisen, not from some exceptional, temporary cause independent of us, but from general permanent causes quite dependent on us, and consisting entirely in the antichristian, un- brotherly relations maintained by us educated people towards the poor, simple labourers who constantly endure distress and want and the accompanying bitter- ness and suffering — things that have merely been more conspicuous than usual during the past two years. If this year we do not hear of want, cold, and hunger — of the dying-off, by hundreds of thousands, of adults worn out with overwork and of underfed old people and children — this is not because these things will not occur, but only because we shall not see them — shall forget about them, shall assure ourselves that they do not exist, or that, if they do, they are inevitable and cannot be helped. But such assurances are untrue : not only is it pos- sible for these things not to exist — but they ought not [ 123 ] 124 ESSAYS AND LETTERS to exist, and the time is coming when they will not exist — and that time is near. However well the wine cup may seem to us to be hidden from the labouring classes — however artful, ancient, and generally accepted may be the excuses wherewith we justify our life of luxury amid a working folk who, crushed with toil and underfed, supply our luxury — the light is penetrating more and more into our relations with the people, and we shall soon appear in the shameful and dangerous position of a criminal whom the unexpected dawn of day exposes on the scene of his crime. If a dealer disposing of harmful or worthless goods among the working folk, and trying to charge as much as possible — or disposing even of good and needful bread, but bread which he had bought cheap and was selling dear — could formerly have said he was serving the needs of the people by honest trade ; or if a manufacturer of cotton prints, looking-glasses, cigarettes, spirits, or beer, could say that he was feed- ing his workmen by giving them employment ; or if an official, receiving hundreds of pounds a year salary collected in taxes from the people's last pence, could assure himself that he was serving for the people's good ; or (a thing specially noticeable these last years in the famine-stricken districts) if formerly a landlord could say — to peasants who worked his land for less pay than would buy them bread, or to those who hired land of him at rack-rents — that by introducing improved methods of agriculture he was promoting the prosperity of the rural population : if all this were formerly pos- sible, now, at least, when people are dying of hunger for lack of bread, amid wide acres belonging to land- lords and planted with potatoes intended for distilling spirits or making starch — these things can no longer be said. It has become impossible, surrounded by people who are dying-out for want of food and from excess of work, not to see that all we consume of the product of their work, on the one hand deprives them of what they need for food, and on the other hand increases the work which already taxes their strength to the utmost. AN AFTERWORD 125 Not to speak of the insensate luxury of parks, con- servatories and hunting, every glass of wine, every bit of sugar, butter, or meat, is so much food taken from the people, and so much labour added to their task. We Russians are specially well situated for seeing our position clearly. I remember, long before these famine years, how a young and morally sensitive savant from Prague, who visited me in the country in winter — on coming out of the hut of a comparatively well-to-do peasant at which we had called, and in which, as every- where, there was an overworked, prematurely aged woman in rags, a sick child who had ruptured itself while screaming, and, as everywhere in spring, a tethered calf and a ewe that had lambed, and dirt and damp, and foul air, and a dejected, careworn peasant — I remember how, on coming out of the hut, my young acquaintance began to say something to me, when suddenly his voice broke and he wept. For the first time, after some months spent in Moscow and Peters- burg — where he had walked along asphalted pavements, past luxurious shops, from one rich house to another, and from one rich museum, library, or palace, to other similar grand buildings — he saw for the first time those whose labour supplies all that luxury, and he was amazed and horrified. To him, in rich and educated Bohemia (as to every man of Western Europe, especially to a Swede, a Swiss, or a Belgian), it might seem (though incorrectly) that where comparative liberty exists — where education is general, where everyone has a chance to enter the ranks of the educated — luxury is a legitimate reward of labour, and does not destroy human life. He might manage to forget the successive generations of men who mine the coal by the use of which most of the articles of our luxury are produced, he might forget — since they are out of sight — the men of other races in the colonies, who die out, working to satisfy our whims ; but we Russians cannot share such thoughts : the connection between our luxury and the sufferings and deprivations of men of the same race as ourselves is too evident. We cannot avoid seeing the 126 ESSAYS AND LETTERS f>rice paid in human lives for our comfort and our uxury. For us the sun has risen, and we cannot hide what is ohvious. We can no longer hide behind Government, behind the necessity of ruling the people, behind science, or art — said to be necessary for the people — or behind the sacred rights of property, or the necessity of upholding the traditions of our forefathers, etc. The sun has risen, and these transparent veils no longer hide anything from anyone. Everyone sees and knows that those who serve the Government do it, not for the welfare of the people (who never asked them to serve), but simply because they want their salaries ; and that people engaged on science and art are so engaged, not to enlighten the people, but for pay and pensions : and that those who withhold land from the people, and raise its price, do this not to maintain any sacred rights, but to increase the incomes they require to satisfy their own caprices. To hide this and to lie is no longer possible. Only two paths are open to the governing classes — the riqh and the non-workers : one way is to repudiate not only Christianity in its true meaning, but humani- tarianism, justice, and everything like them, and to say : ' I hold these privileges and advantages, and, come what may, I mean to keep them. Whoever wishes to take them from me will have me to reckon with. The power is in my hands : the soldiers, the gallows, the prisons, the scourge, and the courts/ The other way is to confess our fault, to cease to lie, to repent, and to go to the assistance of the people, not with words only, nor — as has been done during these last two years — with pence that have first been wrung from the people at the cost of pain and suffering, but by breaking down the artificial barrier existing between us and the working people, and not in words but in deeds acknowledging them to be our brothers : altering our way of life, renouncing the advantages and privileges we possess, and, having renounced them, standing on an equal footing with the people, and AN AFTERWORD 127 together with them obtaining those blessings of government, science, and civilization, which we now, without consulting their wish, seek to supply them with from outside. We stand at the parting of the ways, and a choice must be made. The first path involves condemning one's self to per- petual falsehood, to continual fear that our lies may be exposed, and to the consciousness that, sooner or later, we shall inevitably be ousted from the position to which we have so obstinately clung. The second path involves the voluntary acceptance and practice of what we already profess and of what is demanded by our heart and our reason — of what sooner or later will be accomplished, if not by us, then by others — for in this renunciation of their power by the powerful lies the only possible escape from the ills our pseudo-Christian world is enduring. Escape lies only through the renunciation of a false and the confession of a true Christianity. [October 28, o.s., 1893.] This Afterword, written by Tolstoy as a conclusion to his Account relating to the famine of 1891 and 1892, was suppressed in Russia, and is not contained in the Moscow editions of his works, where the rest of the Account is given. VII RELIGION AND MORALITY* You ask me : (1) What I understand by the word religion, and, (2) Is it possible to have a morality inde- pendent of religion, in the sense in which I understand that word ? I will do my best to answer these most important and excellently-put questions. Three different meanings are commonly given to the word religion. The first is, that religion is a special and true revela- tion given by God to man, and is a worship of God in aocord with that revelation. This meaning is given to religion by people who believe in one or other of the existing religions, and who consequently consider that particular religion to be the only true one. The second meaning is, that religion is a collection of certain superstitious beliefs, as well as a superstitious form of worship that accords with such beliefs. This is the meaning given to religion by unbelievers in general, or by such as do not accept the particular religion they are defining. The third meaning is, that religion is a collection of propositions and laws devised by wise men, and needed to console the common people, to restrain their pas- sions, and to make the masses manageable. This meaning is given to religion by those who are in- different to religion as religion, but consider it a useful instrument for Governments. * A reply to questions put to Tolstoy by a German Ethical Society. [ 128] RELIGION AND MORALITY 129 Religion according to the first definition is a sure and certain truth, which it is desirable and even neces- sary for human welfare to promulgate by all possible means. According to the second definition, religion is a collection of superstitions, from which it is desirable and even necessary for human welfare that man should be emancipated by all possible means. According to the third definition, religion is a certain useful appliance, not necessary for men of high culture, but indispensable for the consolation and control of the common people, and which must therefore be maintained. The first is like the definition a man might give of music, who said that music is a particular tune — the one he knows best and is fondest of ; and that it ought to be taught to as many people as possible. The second is like a definition given by a man who does not understand, and consequently dislikes, music, and who says that music is the production of sounds with one's throat or mouth, or by applying one's hands to certain instruments ; and that it is a useless and even harmful occupation from which people ought to be weaned as quickly as possible. The third is like the definition of music by a man who says it is a thing useful for the purpose of teaching dancing, and also for marching ; and that it should be maintained for those purposes. The diversity and incompleteness of all these defini- tions arise from the fact that they fail to grasp the essential character of music, and only define some of its traits, from the definer's point of view. The same is true of the three definitions given of religion. According to the first of them, religion is something in which the definer rightly believes. According to the second, it is something in which, according to the definer's observation, other people mistakenly believe. According to the third, it is something the definer thinks it useful to get other people to believe in. 130 ESSAYS AND LETTERS In all three cases the thing denned is not the real essence of religion, but something people believe in and consider to be religion. The first definition substitutes for the conception of religion a faith held by the definer ; the second defini- tion substitutes a faith held by other people : something they take to be religion — while the third definition sub- stitutes people's faith in something supplied to them as religion. But what is faith? And why do people hold the faith they do hold? What is faith, and how did it arise ? Among the great mass of the cultured crowd of to- day it is considered a settled question that the essence of every religion consists in superstitious fear, aroused by the not-understood phenomena of Nature, and in the personification and deification of these natural forces, and the worship of them. This opinion is credulously accepted, without criti- cism, by the cultured crowd of to-day ; and not only is it not refuted by the scientists, but among them it generally finds its strongest supporters. If voices are now and then heard (such as that of Max Muller and others) attributing to religion another origin and mean- ing, they pass almost unheard and unnoticed among the common and unanimous acknowledgment of religion in general as a manifestation of ignorance and super- stition. Not long ago, at the commencement of the nineteenth century, the most advanced men — if (like the Encyclopaedists of the later part of the eighteenth century) they rejected Catholicism, Protestantism, and Russo-Greek Orthodoxy — never denied that religion in general has been, and is, an indispensable condition of life for every man. Not to mention the Deists (such as Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, Diderot, and Rousseau), Voltaire erected a monument to God, and Robespierre instituted a fete of the Supreme Being. But in our time — thanks to the frivolous and superficial teaching of Auguste Comte (who, like most Frenchmen, really believed Christianity to be the same thing as Catho- RELIGION AND MORALITY 131 licism, and saw in Catholicism the complete realization of Christianity) — it has been decided and taken for granted by the cultured crowd (always eager and prompt to accept the lowest view) that religion is only one special, long-outlived phase in the development of humanity, and a hindrance to its further progress. It is taken for granted that humanity has passed through two stages, the religious and the metaphysical, and has now entered on a third and highest one — the scientific ; and that all religious manifestations among men are mere survivals of humanity's spiritual organ, which, like the fifth toe-nail of the horse, has long lost all meaning or importance. It is taken for granted that the essence of religion lies in fear evoked by the unknown forces of Nature, in belief in imaginary beings, and in worship of them, as in ancient times Democritus supposed, and as the latest philosophers and historians of religion assert. But, apart from the consideration that belief in in- visible, supernatural beings, or in one such being, does not always proceed from fear of the unknown forces of nature — as we see in the case of hundreds of the most advanced and highly-educated men of former times (Socrates, Descartes, Newton) as well as of our own day, whose recognition of the existence of a supreme, supernatural being, certainly did not proceed from fear of the unknown forces of Nature — the assertion that religion arose from men^s superstitious fear of the mysterious forces of Nature really affords no answer to the main question, 'What was it in men that gave them the conception of unseen, supernatural beings ?' If men feared thunder and lightning, they feared them as thunder and lightning ; but why should they invent some invisible, supernatural being, Jupiter, who lives somewhere or other, and sometimes throws arrows at people ? Men struck by the sight of death would fear death ; but why should they invent souls of the dead with whom they entered into imaginary intercourse ? From thunder men might hide. Fear of death might make i 2 132 ESSAYS AND LETTERS them try to escape death. But if they invented an eternal and powerful being on whom they supposed themselves to depend, and if they invented live souls for dead people, they did this not simply from fear, hut for some other reasons. And in those reasons, evidently, lay the essence of the thing we call religion. Moreover, every man who has ever, even in child- hood, experienced religious feeling, knows by personal experience that it was evoked in him, not by external, terrifying, material phenomena, but by an inner con- sciousness, which had nothing to do with fear of the unknown forces of Nature — a consciousness of his own insignificance, loneliness, and guilt. And therefore, both by external observation and by personal experi- ence, man may know that religion is not the worship of gods, evoked by superstitious fear of the invisible forces of Nature, proper to men only at a certain period of their development ; but is something quite inde- pendent either of fear or of their degree of education — a something that cannot be destroyed by any develop- ment of culture. For man's consciousness of his finite- ness amid an infinite universe, and of his sinfulness (i.e., of his not having done all he might and should have done) has always existed and will exist as long as man remains man. Indeed, everyone on emerging from the animal con- ditions of infancy and earliest childhood, when he lives guided only by the demands of his animal nature — everyone on awakening to rational consciousness, can- not but notice that all around him lives, renewing itself, undestroyed, and infallibly conforming to one, definite, eternal law : and that he alone, recognising himself as a being separate from the rest of the universe, is sentenced to die, to disappear into infinite space and endless time, and to suffer the tormenting conscious- ness of responsibility for his actions — i.e., the con- sciousness that, having acted badly, he could have done better. And understanding this, no reasonable man can help pausing to ask himself, ( What is the meaning of my momentary, uncertain, and unstable RELIGION AND MORALITY 133 existence, amid this eternal, firmly defined and unend- ing universe ?' Entering on truly human life, a man cannot evade that question. That question faces every man, and, in one way or other, every man answers it. And in the reply to that question lies the essence of every religion. The essence of religion consists solely in the answer to the question, ( Why do I live, and what is my relation to the infinite universe* around me ?' All the metaphysics of religion, all the doctrines ahout deities, and about the origin of the world, and all external worship — which are usually supposed to be religion — are but indications (differing according to geographical, ethnographical, and historical circum- stances) of the existence of religion. There is no religion, from the most elevated to the coarsest, that has not at its root this establishing of man's relation to the surrounding universe or to its first cause. There is no religious rite, however coarse, nor any cult, how- ever refined, that has not this at its root. Every reli- gious teaching is the expression which the founder of that religion has given, of the relation he considered himself as a man (and consequently all other people also) to occupy towards the universe and its origin and first cause. The expressions of these relations are very numerous, corresponding to the different ethnographical and his- torical conditions of the founders of these religions, and the nations that adopted them. Moreover, all these expressions are variously interpreted and per- verted by the followers of teachers who were usually hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of years ahead of the comprehension of the masses. And so these rela- tions of man to the universe — i.e., to religion — appear to be very numerous, though, in reality, there are only three fundamental relations in which men stand towards the universe and its author. They are : (1) The primi- * ' Universe ' is used here and elsewhere in its primary significance, embracing the totality of existing things, spiritual or material. 134 ESSAYS AND LETTERS tive, personal relation ; (2) the pagan, social, or family- State relation ; (3) the Christian or divine relation. Strictly speaking there are only two fundamental relations in which man can stand towards the world : the Personal, which sees the meaning of life in personal well-being, obtained separately, or in union with other individuals ; and the Christian, which sees the meaning of life to consist in service of him who sent man into the world. The second of the three divisions men- tioned in the first classification — the social — is really only an extension of the first. The first of these perceptions, the oldest — now found among people on the lowest plane of moral develop- ment — consists in man considering himself to be a self- motived being, living in the world to obtain the greatest possible personal happiness, regardless of the suffering such attainment may cause to others. From this very primitive relation to the world (a relation in which every infant lives on first entering the world ; in which humanity lived during the first, pagan, period of its development ; and in which many of the morally-coarsest individuals and savage tribes still live) flowed the ancient pagan religions, as well as the lowest forms of the later religions : Buddhism,* Taoism, Mohammedanism, and Christianity, in their perverted forms. From this relation to the world comes also modern Spiritualism, which has, at its root, a desire for the preservation and well-being of one's personality. All the pagan cults : divinations ; the deification of beings who enjoy themselves like man ; Saints who intercede for man ; all sacrifices and prayers offered * Buddhism, though demanding from its followers the renunciation of worldly blessings, and even of life itself, is based on the same relation of a self-motived personality (predestined to personal well-being) to the suiTounding universe ; but with this difference— that simple paganism considers man to have a right to happiness, while Buddhism considers that the world ought to disappear because it pro- duces suffering to the personality. Buddhism is negativo paganism. RELIGION AND MORALITY 135 for man's earthly welfare, and for deliverance from calamities — come from this conception of life. The second form of the pagan relation of man to the world, the social, which he adopts at the next stage of de- velopment — a relation natural chiefly to adults — consists in seeing the meaning of life, not in the welfare of one separate individual, but in the welfare of a group of indi- viduals : a family, clan, nation, empire, or even of all humanity (as in the Positivisms attempt to found a religion). y In this relation of man to the world, the meaning of life is transferred from the individual to a family, clan, nation, or empire — to a certain association of individuals, whose welfare is considered to be the aim of existence. From this view come all religions of a certain type — the patriarchal and social : the Chinese and Japanese religions ; the religions of a c chosen people ■ — the Jewish, the Roman State-religion, our Church and State religion (improperly called Christian, but degraded to this level by Augustine), and the proposed Positivist religion of Humanity. All the ceremonies of ancestor-worship in China and Japan ; the worship of Emperors in Rome ; the mul- titudinous Jewish ceremonials aiming at the preservation of an agreement between the chosen people and God ; all family, social, and Church-Christian prayers for the welfare of the State, or for success in war — rest on that understanding of man's relation to the universe. The third conception of this relation, the Christian — of which all old men are involuntarily conscious, and into which, in my opinion, humanity is now entering — consists in the meaning of life no longer appearing to lie in the attainment of personal aims, or the aims of any association of individuals, but solely in serving that Will which has produced man and the entire universe, not for man's aims but for its own. From this relation to the world comes the highest religious teaching known to us, germs of which existed already among the Pythagoreans, Therapeutae, Essenes, and among the Egyptians, Persians, the Brahmins, 136 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Buddhists, and Taoists, in their best representatives, but which received its complete and final expression only in Christianity, in its true and unperverted mean- ing. All the ritual of those ancient religions that pro- ceeded from this understanding of life, and, in our time, all the external forms of worship among the Unitarians, Universalists, Quakers, Servian Nazarenes, Russian Doukhobors, and all the so-called rationalistic sects : their sermons, hymns, conferences and books, are religious manifestations of this relation of man to the universe. All possible religions of whatever kind can, by the nature of the case, be classed according to these three ways of regarding the universe. Every man who has emerged from the animal state inevitably adopts the first, or the second, or the third, of these relations, and that is what constitutes each man's true religion, no matter to what faith he may nominally belong. Every man necessarily conceives some relation be- tween himself and the universe, for an intelligent being cannot live in the universe that surrounds him, without having some relation to it. And since man has as yet devised but three relations that we know of to the universe — it follows that every man inevitably holds one of these three, and, whether he wishes to or not, belongs to one of the three fundamental religions among which the human race is divided. Therefore the assertion, very common among the cultured crowd of Christendom, that they have risen to such a height of development that they no longer need, or possess, any religion, only amounts to this — that repudiating the Christian religion, which is the only one natural to our time, they hold to the lower, social, family, State religion, or to the primitive pagan religion, without being aware of the fact. A man without a religion — i.e., without any relation to the universe — is as impossible as a man without a heart. He may not know he has a religion, just as a man may not know he has a heart, but he can no more exist without a religion than without a heart. RELIGION AND MORALITY 137 Religion is the relation in which a man acknowledges himself to stand towards the infinite universe around him, or towards its source and first cause ; and a rational man must have some relation to them. But you will, perhaps, say that to define man's rela- tion to the universe is not the affair of religion, but of philosophy, or of science in general, if one includes philosophy as part of science. I do not think so. On the contrary, I think that the supposition that science in its widest sense, including philosophy as part of it, can define man's relation to the universe is quite erroneous, and is the chief cause of the confusion con- cerning religion, science, and morality, which prevails among the cultured classes of our society. Science, including philosophy, cannot define man's relation to the infinite universe or its source, were it only for this reason — that before any philosophy or science could arise, that must already, have existed without which no activity of thought, nor relation of any kind between man and the universe, is possible. As a man cannot by any possible motion discover in which direction he ought to move, yet every movement is necessarily performed in some direction, so also is it impossible by mental effort at philosophy or science to discover the direction in which such efforts should be performed ; but all mental effort is necessarily per- formed in some direction that has been predetermined for it. And it is religion that always indicates this direction for all mental work. All known philosophers, from Plato to Schopenhauer, have always and inevitably followed a direction given them by religion. The philosophy of Plato and his followers was a pagan philosophy, which examined the means of obtaining the greatest possible well-being for separate individuals, and for an association of individuals in a State. The Church- Christian philosophy of the Middle Ages, proceeding from a similar pagan conception of life, investigated ways of obtaining salvation for the individual — that is, ways of obtaining the greatest personal welfare in a 138 ESSAYS AND LETTERS future life ; and only in its theocratic attempts did it treat of arrangements for the welfare of society. Modern philosophy, both HegePs and Comte's, has at its root the State-social religious conception of life. The pessimistic philosophy of Schopenhauer and Hart- mann, wishing to free itself from Judaeo-religious cosmology, involuntarily adopted the religious basis of Buddhism. Philosophy has always been, and will always be, simply the investigation of the consequences that result from the relation religion establishes between man and the universe, for until that relation is settled there is nothing on which philosophy can work. So also with positive science, in the restricted mean- ing of the word. Such science has always been, and will always be, merely the investigation and study of all such objects and phenomena, as in consequence of a certain relation religion has set up between man and the universe, appear to demand investigation. Science always has been, and will be, not the study of £ everything/ as scientists now naively suppose (that is impossible, for there are an incalculable quantity of objects that might be studied), but only of such things as religion selects in due order and according to their degree of importance, from among the incalculable quantity of objects, phenomena, and conditions, await- ing examination. And, therefore, science is not one and indivisible, but there are as many sciences as there are religions. Each religion selects a range of objects for investigation, and therefore the science of each different time and people inevitably bears the character of the religion from whose point of view it sees its objects. Thus pagan science, re-established at the Renaissance and now flourishing in our society under the title of Christian, always was, and continues to be, merely an investigation of all those conditions from which man may obtain the greatest welfare, and of all such phenomena as can be made to promote tli.it end. Brah- man and Buddhist philosophic science was always merely RELIGION AND MORALITY 139 the investigation of those conditions under which man escapes from the sufferings that oppress him. Hebrew science (the Talmud) was always merely the study and explanation of the conditions which man had to observe in order to fulfil his contract with God, and to keep the chosen people at the height of their vocation. Church- Christian science has been, and is, an investigation of the conditions under which salvation can be obtained by man. True Christian science, such as is only now being born, is an investigation of the conditions enabling man to know the demands of the Supreme Will from whence he came, and how to apply those demands to life. Neither philosophy nor science can establish man's re- lation to the universe, for that relation must be estab lished before any philosophy or science can begin. They cannot do it for this further reason — that science, includ- ing philosophy as part of it, investigates phenomena intellectually — independently of the investigator's position or the feelings he experiences. But man's relation to the world is denned not by intellect alone, but also by feeling, and by the whole combination of his spiritual forces. However much you may assure a man, and explain to him, that all that truly exists is only idea — or that everything consists of atoms — or that the essence of life is substance, or will — or that heat, light, movement and electricity are different manifestations of one and the same energy — to a being that feels, suffers, rejoices, fears and hopes, it will all fail to explain his place in the universe. That place, and consequently his relation to the universe, is shown to him by religion, which says to him : c The world exists for you, therefore take from life all you can get from it/ or : ' You are a member of a chosen nation loved by God, therefore serve that nation, do all that God has demanded, and you to- gether with your nation will receive the greatest wel- fare obtainable,' or : e You are an instrument of the Supreme Will, which has sent you into the world to perform an appointed task ; learn that Will and fulfil 140 ESSAYS AND LETTERS it, and you will do for yourself the best it is possible for you to do.' To understand the statements of philosophy and science, preparation and study are necessary, but for religious comprehension they are not necessary : it is given to everyone, even to the most limited and ignorant of men. For a man to know his relation to the world around him or to its source, he needs neither philosophic nor scientific knowledge (an abundance of knowledge bur- dening the consciousness is rather a hindrance), but he needs, if but for a time, to renounce the cares of the world, to have a consciousness of his material insig- nificance, and to have sincerity — conditions most often met with (as is said in the Gospels) among children and among the plainest, unlearned folk. That is why we often see that the plainest, least-learned, and least-educated people quite clearly, consciously, and easily, assimilate the highest Christian understanding of life, while very learned and cultured men continue to stagnate in crude paganism. So, for instance, there are most refined and highly educated people who see the meaning of life in personal enjoyment or in avoidance of suffering, as did the very wise and highly educated Schopenhauer, or in the salvation of the soul by Sacraments and means of grace, as highly educated Bishops have done ; while an almost illiterate Russian peasant sectarian sees the meaning of life, without any mental effort, as it was seen by the greatest sages of the world (Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, Seneca) — in acknowledging one's self an instrument of God's will, a son of God. But you will ask me : ( What is the essence of this non-philosophic, non-scientific kind of knowledge ? If it is neither philosophic nor scientific, what is it ? How is it definable?' To these questions I can only reply that, as religious knowledge is that on which all otner knowledge rests, and as it precedes all other know- ledge, we cannot define it, for we have no means enaolinir us to do so. In theological larifriry this knowledge is called revelation, and, if one does not RELIGION AND MORALITY 141 attach a mystic meaning to the word ( revelation/ that term is quite correct ; for this knowledge is not ob- tained by study, nor by the efforts of one man or of many men, but only by one man or many men accept- ing that manifestation of infinite wisdom, which is gradually revealing itself to mankind. Why, 10,000 years ago, were people unable to understand that the meaning of life is not limited to the welfare of one's personality, and why did a time come when a higher understanding of life — the family, social, national, State understanding of life — was re- vealed to them? Why, within historic memory, was the Christian view of life disclosed to men ? And why was it disclosed to this man or that people in particular ; and why precisely, at such a time, in one and not in another form? To try to answer these questions by seeking for reasons in the historic conditions of the time, life, and character and special qualities of those who first made this view of life their own, and first expressed it, is like trying to answer the question, ' Why does the rising sun light up some objects before reaching others P The sun of truth, rising higher and higher over the world, lights up more and more of it, and is reflected first by those objects which are first reached by its illuminating rays, and which are best fitted to reflect them. But the qualities which make some men more suited to receive the rising truth are not any special, active qualities of mind, but, on the contrary, are passive qualities of heart, rarely coin- ciding with great and inquisitive intellect : renunciation of the cares of- the world, consciousness of one's own material insignificance, and great sincerity, as we see ex- emplified by all the founders of religion, who were never remarkable either for philosophic or scientific erudition. In my opinion the chief mistake, and the one which more than any other hinders the true progress of our Christian branch of humanity, lies in the fact that the scientists (who now occupy the seat of Moses) — guiding themselves by the pagan view of life re-established at the time of the Renaissance, and accepting as the 142 ESSAYS AND LETTERS essence of Christianity something that is really a rude perversion of it — have decided that Christianity is a condition humanity has outlived, and that the ancient, pagan, State-social view of life held by them (one that is really worn out) is the very highest understanding of life, and the one humanity should persistently cling to. Holding this view, they not only do not under- stand Christianity — that highest view of life humanity is approaching — but they do not even try to under- stand it. The chief source of this misunderstanding lies in the fact that the scientists, parting company with Christianity and recognising that their science does not accord with it, have decided that the fault lies with Christianity and not with their science. That is to say, they are pleased to believe, not what is really the case, that their science is 1,800 years behind Christianity, which already influences a large part of contemporary society, but that Christianity has lagged 1,800 years behind science. From this reversal of roles come the astonishing fact, that no people have a more confused conception of the essence and true importance of religion, of morality, or of life, than scientists ; and the yet more astonishing fact that the science of to-day — while accomplishing really great success in investigating the phenomena of the material world — turns out to be of no use for the direction of human life, or even does actual harm. And, therefore, I think that certainly it is neither philosophy nor science that determines man's relation to the universe, but it is always religion. So to your first question, s What do I understand by the word religion,* I reply : Religion is a relation man sets up between himself and the endless and infinite universe, or, its source and first cause. From this answer to the first question, the answer to the second follows naturally. If religion is a relation man establishes towards the universe — a relation which determines the meaning of life — then morality is the indication and explanation of RELIGION AND MORALITY 143 such human activity as naturally results from men holding this or that relation towards the universe. And as only two such fundamental relations are known to us, if we consider the pagan, social relation as an enlargement of the personal ; or three, if we count the social, pagan relation as a separate one — it follows that but three moral teachings exist : the primitive, savage, personal ; the pagan, family, State, or social ; and the Christian or divine teaching, of service to man or to God. From the first of these relations of man to the universe flows the teaching of morality common to all pagan religions that have at their base the striving after welfare for the separate individual, and that there- fore define all the conditions yielding most welfare to the individual, and indicate means to obtain such welfare. From this relation to the world flow the pagan teachings : the Epicurean in its lowest form ; the Mohammedan teaching of morality, which promises coarse, personal welfare in this and the next world ; the Church-Christian teaching of morality, aiming at salvation — that is, at the welfare of one's personality, especially in the other world ; and also the worldly utilitarian morality, aiming at the welfare of the indi- vidual only in this world. From the same teaching, which places the aim of life in personal welfare, and, therefore, in freedom from personal suifering, flow the moral teaching of Buddhism in its crude form, and the worldly doctrine of the pessimist. From the second, pagan relation of man to the universe, which sees the aim of life in securing welfare for a group of individuals, flow the moral teachings which demand that man should serve the group whose welfare is regarded as the aim of life. According to that teaching, personal welfare is only allowable to the extent to which it can be obtained for the whole group of people who form the religious basis of life. From that relation to the universe flow the well-known Roman and Greek moral teachings, in which person- 144 ESSAYS AND LETTERS ality always sacrifices itself for society, and also the Chinese morality. From this relation flows also the Jewish morality — the subordination of one's own wel- fare to that of the chosen people — and also the Church and State morality of our own times, which demands the sacrifice of the individual for the good of the State. From this relation to the universe flows also the morality of most women, who sacrifice their whole personality for the benefit of their family, and espe- cially for their children. All ancient history, and to some extent medieval and modern history, teems with descriptions of deeds of just this family, social, or State morality. And the majority of people to-day — though they think their morality is Christian because they profess Christianity — really hold this family, State, pagan morality, and hold it up as an ideal when educating the young generation. From the third, the Christian, relation to the universe — which consists in man's considering himself to be an instrument of the Supreme Will, for the accomplishment of its ends — flow the moral teachings which correspond to that understanding of life, elucida- ting man's dependence on the Supreme Will, and defining its demands. From that relation of man to the universe flow all the highest moral teachings known to man : the Pythagorean, the Stoic, the Buddhist, the Brahminical, and the Taoist, in their highest manifesta- tions, and the Christian teaching in its real meaning, demanding renunciation of one's personal will — and not only of one's own welfare, but even of that of one's family, society, and country — for the sake of fulfilling the will of him who sent us into life — a will revealed by our conscience. From the first, the second, or the third of these relations to the infinite universe or to its source, flows each man's real, unfeigned morality, no matter what he may profess or preach as morality, or in what light he may wish to appear. So that a man who considers the reality of his rela- tion to the universe to lie in obtaining the greatest RELIGION AND MORALITY 145 welfare for himself — however much he may say he con- siders it moral to live for his family, for society, for the State, for humanity, or for the performance of God's will — and however artfully he may pretend and may deceive men, will still always have as his real motive of action simply his individual welfare ; so that, when a choice has to be made, he will not sacrifice his own personality for his family or State, nor to do the will of God, but will sacrifice them all for his own sake. Since he sees the meaning of life only in personal wel- fare, he cannot do otherwise until such time as he alters his relation to the universe. And, similarly, one whose relation to life consists in the service of his own family (as is the case with most women), or of his clan or nation (as among members of the oppressed nationalities, and among men politically active in times of strife)— no matter how much he may declare himself to be a Christian — his morality will always be family or national, but not Christian, and when any inevitable conflict arises between family or social welfare on one side, and that of his personality, or the fulfilment of the will of God, on the other, he will inevitably choose the service of the group for whom, in his view of life, he exists : for only in such service does he see the meaning of his life. And in the same way a man who regards his relation to the world as consisting in fulfilling the will of Him who sent him hither — however much you may impress upon him that he should (in accord with the demands of his personality, or of his family, his nation, empire, or all humanity) commit acts contrary to the Supreme Will of which the operation of the reason and love where- with he is endowed makes him aware — will always sacrifice all human ties rather than fail to comply with the Will that has sent him here : for only in such com- pliance does he discern a meaning for his life. Morality cannot be independent of religion, for not only is it a consequence of religion — that is, a conse- quence of the relation in which a man feels that he stands towards the universe — but it is implied (im- 146 ESSAYS AND LETTERS pliquee, as the French say) in religion. Every religion is an answer to the question : ' What is the meaning of* my life ?' And the religious answer involves a certain moral demand, which may follow or may precede the explanation of the meaning of life. To the question, ' What is the meaning of life V the reply may be : ' The meaning of life lies in the welfare of the individual, therefore make use of all the advantages within your reach '; or, 'The meaning of life lies in the welfare of a certain group of people, therefore serve that group with all your strength ' ; or, ' The meaning of life lies in fulfilling the will of Him that sent you, therefore try with all your strength to know that will and to fulfil it.' Or the same question may be answered in this way : 'The meaning of your life lies in your personal enjoy- ment, for that is the object of man's existence'; or, ' The meaning of your life lies in serving the group of which you consider yourself a member, for that is your destiny '; or, 'The meaning of your life lies in the ser- vice of God, for that is your destiny. 9 Morality is included in the explanation of the mean- ing of life that religion gives, and can therefore in no way be separated from religion. This truth is particu- larly evident in the attempts of non-Christian philo- sophers to deduce a doctrine of the highest morality from their philosophy. Such philosophers see that Christian morality is indispensable, that we cannot live without it ; they even see that it is an already existing fact, and they want to find some way to attach it to their non-Christian philosophy, and even to put things in such a way that Christian morality may seem to result from their pagan social philosophy. That is what they attempt, but their very efforts show, more clearly than anything else, that Christian morality is not merely independent of pagan philosophy, but that it stands in complete contradiction to that philosophy of individual welfare, or of liberation from individual suffering, or of social welfare. The Christian ethics, which, in accord with our religious conception of life, we acknowledge, demand RELIGION AND MORALITY 147 not only the sacrifice of one's personality for the group, but the renunciation alike of one's personality and of one's group for the service of God ; but pagan philo- sophy only investigates means of obtaining the greatest welfare for the individual, or for the group of indi- viduals, and therefore a contrast is inevitable. And there is only one way of hiding this contrast — viz., by piling up abstract conditional conceptions one on the top of another, and keeping to the misty domain of metaphysics. That is what most of the post-Renaissance philo- sophers have done, and to this circumstance — the impossibility of making the demands of Christian morality (which have been admitted in advance) accord with a philosophy built on pagan foundations — must be attributed the terrible unreality, obscurity, unintelligi- bility, and estrangement from life, that characterizes modern philosophy. With the exception of Spinoza (whose philosophy, in spite of the fact that he did not consider himself a Christian, develops from truly Chris- tian roots) and Kant (a man of genius, who admittedly treated his system of ethics as not dependent on his metaphysics), all the other philosophers, even the brilliant Schopenhauer, evidently devised artificial con- nections between their ethics and their metaphysics. It is felt that Christian ethics are something that must be accepted in advance, standing quite firmly, not dependent on philosophy, and in no need of the fic- titious props put to support them ; and it is felt that Philosophy merely devises certain propositions in order that ethics may not contradict her, but may rather be bound to her and appear to flow from her. All such propositions, however, only appear to justify Christian ethics while they are considered in the abstract. As soon as they are applied to questions of practical life, the non-correspondence, and, more than that, the evident contradiction between the philosophic basis and what we consider morality, appears in full strength. The unfortunate Nietzsche, who has latterly become so celebrated, rendered a valuable service by his k 2 148 ESSAYS AND LETTERS §» exposure of this contradiction. He is incontrovertible when he says that all rules of morality, from the point of view of the current non-Christian philosophy, are mere lies and hypocrisy, and that it is much more profitable, pleasanter and more reasonable, for a man to devise his own Super-men (Uebermensch) and be one of them, than to be one of the mass which has to serve as the scaffold for these Super-men. No philosophical constructions founded on the pagan-religious view of life can prove to anyone that it is more profitable or wiser for him to live, not for a welfare he desires, com- prehends, and sees to be possible for himself or for his family or his society, but for another's welfare — un- desired, not understood, and unattainable by his puny human power. Philosophy founded on an understand- ing of life limited to the welfare of man, will never be able to prove to a rational man, who knows that he may die at any moment, that it is good for him, and that he ought, to forego his own desired, understood, and un- doubted welfare — not even for any certain welfare to others' (for he can never know what will result from his sacrifices), but — merely because it is right or good to do so : that it is a categorical imperative. To prove this from the point of view of pagan philo- sophy is impossible. To prove that people are all equal — that it is better for a man to sacrifice his life in the service of others than to trample on the lives of others, making them serve him — one must redefine one's relation to the universe : one must prove that man's position is such that he has no option, since the meaning of his life lies only in the execution of the will of Him that sent him ; and the will of Him that sent him is, that he should give his life to the service of men. And such a change in man's relation to the universe comes only from religion. Thus it is with the attempts to deduce Christian morality from, and to reconcile it with, the funda- mental positions of pagan science. No sophistries or subtleties of thought can destroy this simple and clear position, that the law of evolution, which lies at the RELIGION AND MORALITY 149 base of all the science of to-day, is founded on a general, eternal, and unalterable law — on the law of the struggle for existence, and the survival of the fittest ; and that, therefore, each man to attain his own and his group's welfare should try to be that c fittest,' and to make his group such, in order that not he or his group should perish, but some other, less fit. However much some naturalists, frightened by the logical consequences of this law and by their applica- tion to human life, may try to perplex the matter with words, and to exorcise this law — their efforts only make still more evident the irresistibility of that law, which rules the life of the whole organic world, and, there- fore, that of man regarded as an animal. Since I began writing this article, a Russian transla- tion has appeared of an article by Mr. Huxley, com- posed of a speech on Evolution and Ethics* delivered by him to some English Society. In this article the learned Professor — like our well-known Professor Beketof and many others who have written on the same subject, and with as little success as his predeces- sors — tries to prove that the struggle for existence does not infringe morality, and that side by side with the acknowledgement of the struggle for existence as a fundamental law of life, morality may not merely exist, but even progress. Mr. Huxley's article is full of all kinds of jokes, verses, and general views on ancient religion and philosophy, and is consequently so florid and complicated that it is only with great effort that one is able to reach its fundamental thought. That thought, however, is as follows : The law of evolution runs counter to the moral law ; this was known to the ancient Greeks and Hindus. The philosophy and religion of both those peoples brought them to the doctrine of self-renunciation. That doctrine, the author thinks, is not correct ; the correct one is this : A law exists, which the author calls the cosmic law, in * Huxley's Romanes Lecture, delivered in 1894, and contained in Evolution and Eth.ics t issued by Macmillao and Oo. 150 ESSAYS AND LETTERS accord with which all beings struggle against one another, and only the fittest survive. Man also is sub- ject to this law ; and thanks only to it has man become what he now is. But this law runs counter to morality. How, then, can it be reconciled with morality ? That can be accomplished in this way : A law of social pro- gress exists, which seeks to check the cosmic process, and to replace it by another, an ethical, process, the object of which is the survival, not of the fittest, but of the best in an ethical sense. Where this ethical process sprang from, Mr. Huxley does not explain, but in his 20th foot-note he says that the basis of this process is, on the one hand, that people, like animals, prefer to be in company, and therefore suppress in themselves quali- ties harmful to societies ; and, on the other hand, that the members of a society forcibly suppress actions con- trary to social welfare. It seems to Mr. Huxley that this process, obliging men to curb their passions for the sake of preserving the group of which they are members, and for fear of being punished if they disturbed the order' of their group, supplies that ethical law the existence of which he wishes to demonstrate. It seems to Mr. Huxley, in the naivete of his soul, that in English society, as it exists to-day — with its Irish problem, the poverty of its lowest classes, the insen- sate luxury of the rich, its trade in opium and spirits, its executions, its slaughter or extermination of tribes for the sake of trade and politics, its secret vice and its hypocrisy — the man who does not infringe the police regulations is a moral man, guided by the ethical law. He forgets that the qualities needful to maintain the society in which a man lives may be useful for that society — as the qualities of the members of a band of robbers may be useful to that band, and as in our own society we find a use for the qualities of executioners, gaolers, judges, soldiers, and hypocrite-priests, etc. — but that these qualities have nothing in common with morality. Morality is something continually developing and growing, and, therefore, conformity to the existing RELIGION AND MORALITY 151 rules of a certain society, and their preservation by means of the axe or the scaffold (to which Mr. Huxley alludes as to instruments of morality), will not only not be the maintenance, but will be the infringement of morality. And, on the contrary, every infringement of the existing order — such as were not only the in- fringements committed by Jesus and his disciples of the regulations of a Roman province, but the in- fringements of present-day regulations by one who should refuse to take part in legal proceedings, in military service, in the payment of taxes levied for warlike preparations — will not only not be an infringe- ment of morality, but will be an inevitable condition of the manifestation of morality. Every cannibal who perceives that he should not eat his fellow-men, and who acts accordingly, infringes the order of his society. And, therefore, though action infringing the order of any society may be immoral, every truly moral action which pushes forward the limits of morality will always be sure to be an infringe- ment of the order of society. If, therefore, a law has appeared in society in accord with which people sacri- fice their personal advantages for the preservation of the integrity of their group — that law is not the ethical law, but, on the contrary, will generally be a law con- trary to all ethics — that same law of the struggle for existence, only in a hidden, latent form. It is the same struggle for existence, but carried over from the individual to a group of individuals. It is not the cessation of the fight, but only a backward swinging of the arm, to strike a harder blow. If the law of the struggle for existence and the sur- vival of the fittest is the eternal law of all life (and it cannot but be admitted to be so when we regard man as an animal) — then no tangled discussions about social progress and an ethical law supposed to flow from it, or to spring up from no one knows where, just when we happen to need it (like a deus ex machina), can disturb that law. If social progress, as Mr. Huxley assures us, collects 152 ESSAYS AND LETTERS people into groups, then the struggle and the survival will continue among those families, clans, and nations, and the struggle will not only not be more moral, but it will be even more cruel and more immoral than that between individuals, as we see in actual life. Even if we admit the impossible, and suppose that in another thousand years all humanity will, by social progress alone, be united into one whole, and will form a single nation and a single State — even then (not to mention that the struggle abolished between nations and States will continue between man and the animal world, and will always remain a struggle — that is, will remain an activity quite excluding the possibility of the Christian morality we confess) — even then the struggle between individuals forming this union, and between the groups of families, clans and nationalities, will not be dimin- ished, but will continue in a new form, as we see in all aggregations of individuals, families, races and States. The members of a family quarrel and fight with one another as well as with outsiders, and often to a greater degree and with more venom. It is just the same thing in the State ; among people living in one State, a struggle continues just as with people outside the State, only it is carried on under other forms. In the one case the slaughter is done with arrows and knives, in the other it is done by hunger. And if both in the family and in the State the weak are saved, that is not done by the social union, but occurs because among the people united in families and in States, love and self- sacrifice exist. If, outside the family, of two children only the fittest survives, while in a good mother's family both remain alive, this does not result from union into families, but from the fact that the mother possesses love and self-sacrifice. And neither self-sacrifice nor love can result from a social process. To assert that a social process produces morality is like asserting that the construction of stoves pro- duces heat. Heat comes from the sun, and stoves produce heat only when fuel (the result of the sun's work) is put into RELIGION AND MORALITY 153 them. Just so morality comes from religion. Special forms of social life produce morality only when the results of religious influence — which is morality — are put into them. Stoves may be heated and give warmth, or may not be heated and may remain cold ; just as social forms may contain morality, and may then have a moral influ- ence on society, or may not contain morality, and will then remain without influence on society. Christian morality cannot be based on a pagan or social conception of life, and cannot be deduced either from philosophy or from non-Christian science ; and not only can it not be deduced from them, but it can- not even be reconciled with them. That is how the matter has always been understood by every serious and strictly consistent philosophy and science, which said, quite reasonably : ( If our proposi- tions do not tally with morality, so much the worse for morality, ' and continued their investigations. Ethical treatises not founded on religion, and even secular catechisms, are written and taught, and people may suppose that humanity is guided by them ; but that only seems to be the case, because people are really guided not by those treatises and catechisms, but by the religions which they have always possessed and still possess ; whereas these treatises and catechisms only counterfeit what flows naturally from religion. The dictates of secular morality not based on a religious teaching are just like the action of a man who, though ignorant of music, should take the con- ductor's seat and begin to wave his arms before the experienced musicians who were performing. The music would continue for awhile by its own momentum, and because of what the musicians had learned from former conductors ; but evidently the waving of a stick by a man ignorant of music would not merely be use- less, but it would in course of time certainly confuse the musicians and disorganize the orchestra. A simi- lar confusion begins to take place in people's minds at the present time, in consequence of attempts made by 154 ESSAYS AND LETTERS leading men to teach people a morality not founded on that highest religion which begins to be assimilated, and has already been partly assimilated, by Christian humanity. It is indeed desirable to have moral teaching unmixed with superstition, but the fact is that moral teaching is a result of a certain relation man holds towards the universe or towards God. If that relation is expressed in forms which seem to us superstitious, we should, to right the matter, try to express that relation more reasonably, clearly, and exactly, or even to destroy the former relation (now become inadequate) of man to the universe, and to substitute for it one that is higher clearer, and more reasonable ; but we should in no case devise a so-called secular, non-religious morality founded on sophistry, or simply founded on nothing at all. The attempts to found a morality apart from religion, are like what children do when, wishing to transplant a flower that pleases them — they pluck it from the roots that dp not please, and seem to them superfluous, and stick it rootless into the ground. Without religious roots there can be no real, sincere morality, just as without roots there can be no real flower. So in answer to your two questions, I say : { Religion is a certain relation established by man between his separate personality and the infinite universe or its Source. And morality is the ever-present guide to life which results from that relation.* [December 28, o.s., 1898.] VIII REASON AND RELIGION A LETTER TO AN INQUIRER You ask me : 1. Should men of no special intellectual gifts seek to express in words truths they have reached relating to the inner life ? 2. Is it worth while to try to attain full and clear understanding of one's inner life ? 3. How in moments of struggle or doubt are we to know whether it is conscience that speaks to us, or whether it is intellect bribed by our infirmities ? (This third question, for brevity's sake, I have restated in my own words without, I hope, altering your meaning.) These three questions, it seems to me, are all summed up in one — the second ; for if we should not try to attain full and clear understanding of our inner life, then also we should not, and cannot, express in words the truths we have reached ; and in moments of doubt we shall have nothing to guide us in distinguishing between conscience and false reasoning. But if it is right to seek the greatest clearness one's mental powers can reach (whether those powers be great or small), then we should also express in words the truths we have reached, and by those truths, elucidated to the utmost and expressed in words, we must be guided in moments of struggle or doubt. And therefore I answer your root question in the affirmative ; namely, that every man, in order to accomplish the purpose for which he was sent here, and to attain true well-being [ 155 ] 156 ESSAYS AND LETTERS (the two always accord), should exert the whole strength of his mind to elucidate for himself the religious founda- tions on which he rests ; that is to say, he should clear up the purpose of his life. Among uneducated navvies, whose work is paid for by the cubic fathom, I have often met with a prevalent conviction that mathematical calculations are decep- tive and should not be trusted. Whether this is because they do not know mathematics, or because those who calculate the earth they have dug up often intentionally or unintentionally cheat them, the fact remains that disbelief in the sufficiency or applicability of mathematics to estimate quantities, has firmly estab- lished itself among these uneducated labourers, and for most of them has become an unquestioned verity, which they do not even consider it necessary to prove. A similar opinion has established itself among people whom I may safely call irreligious — an opinion to the effect that reason cannot solve religious questions ; that the application of reason to these questions is the chief source of errors, and that to solve religious questions by reason is an act of wicked pride. I mention this because the doubt expressed in your questions as to whether one should try to attain full and clear understanding, can only arise from the sup- position that reason cannot be applied to the solution of religious questions. Yet that supposition is as strange and as obviously false as the supposition that calculation cannot solve mathematical questions. Man has received direct from God only one instrument wherewith to know himself and to know his relation to the universe — he has no other — and that instrument is reason : but suddenly he is told that his reason may be used to elucidate his home, family, business, political, scientific or artistic problems, but may not be used to clear up the very thing for which it was chiefly granted him. It would seem that to clear up the most important truths, those on which his whole life depends, man must on no account use his reason, but must recognUo such truths apart from his reason, though apart from REASON AND RELIGION 157 his reason man can know nothing. People say : ' Recog- nise by inspiration, by faith ' : but the fact is, that man cannot even believe apart from his reason. If a man believes one thing and not another, he does this only because his reason tells him he should not believe this, but should believe that. To say a man should not be guided by reason, is the same as to say to a man carry- ing a lamp in a dark catacomb, that, to find the way out, he must extinguish his lamp and be guided, not by light, but by something else. But perhaps it will be said (as you say in your letter) that not all men are gifted with great intellect, and especially not with capacity to express their thoughts ; and by an unskilful expression of their thoughts about religion they may, therefore, occasion error. To that I will reply in the words of the Gospel, that what is hidden from the wise is revealed to babes. And this saying is not an exaggeration or a paradox (as we are accustomed to consider sayings in the Gospels that do not please us), but is a statement of the simplest and most undoubted truth, namely, that to every being in the world a law is given which that being should follow, and that to enable him to perceive this law, every being has received suitable organs. And, therefore, every man is gifted with reason, and by that reason the law he should follow is revealed to each man. That law is hidden only from those who do not wish to follow it, and who, in order not to obey the law, reject reason, and, instead of using the reason given to them where- with to discern truth, accept on faith the guidance of others who have also rejected reason. The law man should follow is so simple that it is accessible to every child : especially as man need not rediscover this law of his life. Those who lived before us discovered and expressed it, and a man need only verify the propositions he finds expressed in tradition, by his own reason — accepting or rejecting them. But he must not do as people advise who prefer not to obey the law : he must not check his reason by tradition, but, contrariwise, must check tradition by reason. 158 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Traditions may come from man and be false, but reason certainly comes from God and cannot be false. And, therefore, no specially great capacities are needed to know and express the truth, but we need only believe that reason not only is the highest, the divine quality in man, but that it is the only instrument he possesses for the attainment of truth. Special talents and intellectual gifts are needed, not for the knowledge and statement of truth, but for the invention and statement of falsehood. Once they abandon the indications of reason, and, instead of believing them, credulously accept what is offered to them as truth, people pile up and credulously accept (usually in the guise of laws, revelations, and dogmas) such complex, unnatural and contradictory propositions, that to express them and connect them with any truth really needs great subtlety of mind and exceptional gifts. One need only imagine to one's self a man of our world, educated in the religious beliefs of any one of the Christian Churches — Catholic, Russo-Greek Ortho- dox, or Protestant — who should wish to elucidate the religious principles with which he has been inoculated in childhood, and to connect them with real life — what a complex intellectual labour he would have to perform in order to adjust all the contradictions contained in the faith with which his education had inoculated him : a God, who is the Creator and is good — creates evil, condemns people, and demands a ransom, etc. ; and we ourselves profess a law of love and forgiveness, yet we execute, make war, take their produce from the poor, etc. For the disentanglement of these insoluble contra- dictions, or, rather, in order to hide them from one's self, great ability and special mental endowments aiv necessary ; but to know the law of one's life, or, as you express it, to attain full and clear understanding of one s belief, no special mental gifts are required — we only need be careful not to accept anything con- trary to reason, not to deny our reason, religiously to guard our reason and believe in it alone. If the mean- REASON AND RELIGION 159 ing of his life seems obscure to a man, this does not prove that his reason is incompetent to explain that meaning ; it only indicates that he has credulously- accepted too much that is irrational, and that what has not been verified by reason must be set aside. And, therefore, my answer to your root question, as to whether we must strive to attain a clear understand- ing of our inner life, is, that that is the most necessary and important thing we can do in life. It is necessary and important because the only reasonable meaning of our life consists in fulfilment of the will of God, who has sent us here. But the will of God is known, not by some extraordinary miracle, the writing of the law by the finger of the Deity on stone tablets, the compilation by the aid of the Holy Ghost of an infal- lible book, or by the infallibility of any holy man or collection of men, but only by the use of reason by all men, transmitting both by deed and by word, one to another, the consciousness of truth that is ever more and more elucidating itself to them. That knowledge never has been, nor ever will be, complete, but it ever increases as humanity advances : the longer we live the more clearly we know God^s will, and, consequently, the more we know what we should do to fulfil it. And so I think the clearing up by each man (however small he may seem to himself or to others — the least are the greatest) of all religious truth accessible to him, and its expression in words (for expression in words is one sure sign of complete clearness in thought), is one of the chief and most holy duties of man. I shall be very glad if my reply, in any degree, satisfies you. [1895.] IX SHAME ! There was a time, between 1820 and 1830, when the officers of the Semenof Regiment, the flower of the young generation of that time, men who were for the most part Freemasons, and subsequently Decembrists,* decided not to use corporal punishment in their regi- ment, and, notwithstanding the stringent discipline then required, without using corporal punishment, theirs continued to be a model regiment. The officer in charge of one of the companies of this same Semenof Regiment, meeting Sergius Ivano- vitch Mouravyof — one of the best men of his, or indeed of any, time — spoke of a certain soldier, a thief and a drunkard, saying that such a man could only be tamed with rods. Sergius Mouravyof did not agree with him, and proposed transferring the man into his own company. The transfer was made, and almost the next day the soldier stole a comrade's boots, sold them for drink, and made a disturbance. Sergius Ivanovitch mustered the company, called the soldier out, and said to him : 6 You know that in my regiment we neither strike men nor flog them, and I am not going to punish you. I shall pay, with my own money, for the boots you stole, but I ask you, not for my sake but for your own, to think over your way of life and to amend it.' And * Members of the party which attempted, but failed, to secure by forco a liberal constitution for Russia, in 1825, when Nicholas I. ascended the throne. [ 160 ] SHAME ! 161 after giving the man some friendly counsel, Sergius Ivanovitch let him go. The man again got drunk and fought, and again he was not punished but only exhorted : ' You are doing yourself great harm. If you will amend, you will your- self be the better for it. So I ask you not to do these things any more/ The 'man was so struck by this new kind of treat- ment, that he completely altered, and became a model soldier. This incident was told me by Sergius Ivanovitch's brother, Matthew Ivanovitch, who, like his brother and all the best men of his day, considered corporal punishment a shameful relic of "barbarism, disgraceful to those who inflict it rather than to those who endure it. When telling this story he could never refrain from tears of emotion and pleasure. And indeed for those who heard him tell it, it was hard not to follow his example. That is how, seventy-five years ago, educated Russians regarded corporal punishment. And in our day, seventy- five years later, the grandsons of these men take their places as magistrates at sessions, and calmly discuss whether such and such a full-grown man (often the jfather of a family, or sometimes even a grandfather) should, or should not, be flogged, and how many strokes of the rod he ought to receive. The most advanced of these grandsons, meeting in committees and Local Government Councils, draw up declarations, addresses, and petitions, to the effect that, on certain hygienic or pedagogic grounds,* it would be better not to flog all the mouzhiks (people of the peasant * By petitioning, openly, for the repeal of laws such as that empowering the local magistrates to have peasants flogged, the petitioners would risk being looked at askance by those in power. But members of local Health Com- mittees, or Educational Committees sometimes find oppor- tunities to utter veiled protests with a minimum amount of risk. 162 ESSAYS AND LETTERS class), but only those who have not passed all the classes of the National Schools. Evidently a great change has taken place in what we call the educated upper classes. The men of the 'twenties, who considered the infliction of corporal punishment disgraceful to themselves, were able to get rid of it even in the military service, where it was deemed indispensable ; but the men of our day calmly apply it, not to soldiers only, but to any man of one special class of the Russian people, and cautiously, diplomatically, in their committees and assemblies, draw up addresses and petitions to the Government, with all sorts of reservations and circumlocutions, say- ing that there are hygienic objections to punishment by flogging, and therefore its use should be limited ; or that it would be desirable only to flog those peasants who have not gone through a certain school course, or not to flog peasants referred to in the Manifesto issued on the occasion of the Tsar's marriage. Evidently a terrible change has taken place among the so-called upper classes of Russian society. And what is most astonishing is that it has come about just while (during these same seventy-five years ; and especi- ally during the last thirty-five, since the emancipation of the serfs), in the very class which it is considered necessary to expose to this revolting, coarse, and stupid torture by flogging, an equally important change has taken place in the contrary direction. While the upper, governing classes have sunk to a fdane so coarse and morally degraded that they have egalized flogging and can calmly discuss it, the mental and moral plane of the peasant class has so risen that corporal punishment has become for them not only a physical, but also a moral, torture. I have heard and read of cases of suicide committed by peasants sentenced to be flogged, and I cannot doubt that such cases occur, for I have myself seen a most ordinary young peasant turn white as a sheet and lose control of his voice at the mere mention, in the District Court, of the possibility of it being inflicted on him. SHAME ! 163 I have seen how another peasant of forty, who had been condemned to corporal punishment, wept when, in reply to my inquiry whether the sentence had been executed, he had to reply that it had been. I know, too, the case of a respected, elderly peasant of my acquaintance, who was sentenced to be flogged because he had quarrelled with the Overseer, not noticing that the latter was wearing his badge of office. The man was brought to the District Court, and from there to the shed in which the punishment is usually inflicted. The watchman came with the rods, and the peasant was told to strip. ( Parme'n Ermilitch, you know I have a son who is married/ said the peasant, addressing the Elder, and trembling all over. 'Can't this be avoided? You know it's a sin/ 'It's the authorities, Petrovitch. I should be glad enough myself, but there's no help for it,' replied the Elder abashed. Petrovitch undressed and lay down. ' Christ suffered, and told us to,' said he. The clerk, an eye-witness, told me the story, and said that every man's hand trembled and none of those present could look one another in the face — feeling that they were doing something dreadful. And these are the people whom it is considered necessary, and probably for some reason advantageous, to beat with rods, like animals, though it is forbidden to torture even animals. For the benefit of our Christian and enlightened country, it is necessary to subject to this most stupid, most indecent, and most degrading punishment, not all members of this Christian and enlightened country, but only that class which is the most industrious, use- ful, moral, and numerous. To prevent violations of the law, the highest authori- ties of an enormous Christian empire, nineteen centuries after Christ, can devise nothing wiser and more moral than to take the transgressors — grown-up and some- l 2 164 ESSAYS AND LETTERS times elderly people — undress them, lay them on the floor, and whip their bottoms with birches.* And people who consider themselves most advanced, and who are grandsons of those who seventy-five years ago got rid of corporal punishment, now, in our day, most respectfully and quite seriously, petition his Excellency the Minister, or whoever it may be, not to allow so much flogging of grown-up Russians, because the doctors are of opinion that it is unhealthy ; or beg that those who have a school diploma should not be whipped ; or that those who were to be flogged at the time of the Emperor's marriage should be let off". And the wise Government meets such frivolous petitions with profound silence, or even prohibits them. Can one seriously petition on this matter ? Is there really any question r Surely there are some deeds which, whether perpetrated by private individuals or by Governments, one cannot calmly discuss, and con- demn only under certain circumstances. And the flogging of adult members of one particular class of Russiafi people, in our time and among our mild and Christianly-enlightened folk, is such a deed. To hinder such crimes against all law, human and divine, one cannot diplomatically approach the Government under cover of hygienic or educational or loyalistic considera- tions. Of such deeds we must either not speak at all, or we must speak straight to the point and always with detestation and abhorrence. To ask that only those peasants who are literate should be exempt from being beaten on their bare buttocks, is as though in a land where the law decreed that unfaithful wives should be punished by being stripped and exposed in the streets, people were to petition that this punishment should only be inflicted on such as could not knit stockings, or do something of that kind. * And why choose just this stupid and brutal method of causing pain and not some other ? Why not stick needles into people's shoulders or other parts?— or squeeze their hands and feet in vices — or do something of that kind ? — L.T. , SHAME ! 165 About such deeds one cannot e most humbly pray/ nor ' lay our petition at the foot of the throne/ etc. — such deeds must only, and can only, be denounced. And such deeds should be denounced, because when an appearance of legality is given to them they disgrace us all who live in the country in which they are com- mitted. For if it is legal to flog a peasant, this has been enacted for my benefit also, to secure my tran- quillity and well-being. And that is intolerable. I will not and I cannot acknowledge a law which infringes all law human and divine ; and I cannot imagine myself confederate with those who enact and confirm such legalized crimes. If such abominations must be discussed, there is but one thing to say — viz., that no such law can exist ; that no ukaze, nor insignia, nor seals, nor Imperial com- mands, can make a law out of a crime ; but that, on the contrary, the dressing-up in legal form of such crimes (as that the grown men of one — only one — class, may, at the will of another, a worse, class — the nobles and the officials — be subjected to an indecent, savage, and revolting punishment), shows, better than anything else, that where such sham legalization of crime is pos- sible, no laws at all exist, but merely the savage licence of brute force. If one has to speak of corporal punishment inflicted on the peasant class alone, the needful thing is — not to defend the rights of the Local Government, or appeal from a Governor (who has vetoed a petition to exempt literate peasants from flogging) to a Minister, and from the Minister to the Senate, and from the Senate to the Emperor (as was proposed by the Tambdf Local Assembly), but unceasingly to proclaim and cry aloud that such applications of a brutal punishment (already abandoned for children) to one — and that the best — class of Russians, is disgraceful to all who, directly or indirectly, participate in it. Petrovitch, who lay down to be beaten after crossing himself and saying : e Christ suffered and told us to/ forgave his tormentors, and remained after the flogging 166 ESSAYS AND LETTERS the man he was hefore. The only result of the torture inflicted upon him was to make him scorn the authority which decrees such punishments. But to many young people,, not only the punishment itself but often even the knowledge that it is possible, acts debasingly on their moral feelings, brutalizing some and making others desperate. Yet even that is not the chief evil. The greatest evil is in the mental condition of those who arrange, sanction, and decree these abominations, of those who employ them as threats, and of all who live in the conviction that such violations of justice and humanity are needful conditions of a good and orderly life. What terrible moral perversion must exist in the minds and hearts of those— often young men — who, with an air of profound practical wisdom, say (as I have myself heard said) that it won't do not to flog peasants, and that it is better for the peasants themselves to be flogged. These are the people most to be pitied for the debase- ment into which they have sunk, and in which they are stagnating. Therefore, the emancipation of the Russian people from the degrading influence of a legalized crime is, from every aspect, a matter of enormous importance. And this emancipation will be accomplished, not when exemption from corporal punishment is obtained by those who have a school diploma, or by any other set of peasants, nor even when all the peasants but one are exempted, but it will only be accomplished when the governing classes confess their sin and humbly repent. [December 14, o.s., 1S95.] LETTER TO PETER VERIGIN, THE doukhobOr LEADER— I Dear Brother, I. M. Tregoubof has sent on to me your letter to him, and I was much pleased to read it — pleased to get to know about you and, as it were, to hear your voice, and to know what you are thinking about, and how you think, and what is vital to you. J see by your letter that you live in a spiritual world and are occupied with spiritual questions. For a man's welfare, that is the chief thing : for only in spirit is man free, and only by the spirit is God's work done, and only in spirit does man feel himself at one with God, for l God is a spirit.' The thoughts expressed in your letter about the advantage of living intercourse over intercourse by means of dead books, pleased me much, and I share them. I write books, and therefore know all the evil they produce. I know how people who do not wish to receive the truth, can avoid reading books or under- standing what' goes against the grain and exposes them, and I know how they can misinterpret and pervert — as they have done with the Gospels. All this 1 know, but yet I consider books to be, in our time, inevitable. I say 'in our time' in contradistinction to the Gospel times, when there were no printing-presses and books were not used, and the means of communication were vocal. Then it was possible to do without books, for the enemies of truth had none. But now one cannot leave this powerful engine entirely for the [ 167 ] 168 ESSAYS AND LETTERS enemies of truth to use for deception, but must also see that it is used on the side of truth. To refuse to make use of a book or a letter to convey one's thoughts or get at the thoughts of others, would be like refusing to use one's strength of voice to convey to many people at once what one has to say ; or to use one's ears to understand what some one is saying in a loud voice. Jt would be like refusing to acknowledge the possibility of con- veying thought except tete-a-tete, or when conveyed in a whisper. Writing and printing have but multi- plied a thousand, a hundred thousand, times the number of people by whom the thoughts expressed may be heard ; but the relation between him who expresses and him who receives the thoughts remains as before : as in conversation the hearer may grasp and understand what is said, or may let it go in at one ear and out at the other, so it is with printed matter. As the reader of a book may twist it this way or that, so may he also do who hears spoken words. As in books (and we constantly see this) much may be written that is superfluous and empty, just so is it with speech. A difference exists, but it is a difference that is sometimes to the advantage of vocal, sometimes of printed com- munications. The advantage of vocal communication is that the hearer feels the spirit of the speaker, but the disadvantage is that very often empty talkers (for instance advocates) having a gift of words, sway men not by their reasonableness, but by their mastery of oratorical art, which is not the case with books. Another advantage of verbal communication is that a hearer who has not understood a matter can ask ques- tions, but there is the accompanying disadvantage that those who have failed to understand (often purposely failed) can put questions which are not to the point, and can thus divert the stream of thought, which is not the case with books. The disadvantages of books are : First, that paper can endure all things, and people can have any nonsense printed, causing enormous labour to be wasted in papermaking and typesetting ; which is LETTER TO PETER VERIGIN— I 169 not the case with vocal communication, for people can refuse to listen to nonsense. Secondly, that books are multiplying enormously, so that the good ones get lost in the sea of empty and harmful ones. But then again the advantages of the press are very great ; and consist chiefly in the fact that the circle of hearers is extended a hundredfold, or a thousandfold, as com- pared to the hearers of the spoken word. And this in- crease of the circle of readers is important not because there are many readers, but because among the millions of people of different nations and stations to whom a book becomes accessible, those who share similar thoughts discover one another, and while living thousands of miles apart, not knowing one another, are yet united and live by one spirit, having the spiritual joy and encouragement of feeling that they are not alone. Such communication 1 now have with you and with many, many men of other nations — men who have never seen me but who yet are nearer to me than sons or brothers of my own blood. The chief consideration in favour of books is, that since men reached a certain stage in development of the external conditions of life — books, and printing in general, have become a means of communication among men, and must, there- fore, not be neglected. So many harmful books have been written and circulated, that the evil can only be met by other books. One wedge drives out another. Christ said : ' What I tell you in the ear, proclaim upon the housetops. ' Printing is just that proclamation from the housetops. The printed word is a tongue — a tongue that reaches very far ; and for this reason all that is said of the tongue relates also to the printed word : ' Therewith bless we God, and therewith curse we men, made after the likeness of God.' Therefore one cannot be too careful what one says and listens to, nor what one prints and reads. I write all this not that I think you understand the matter differently (from your letter I conclude that you understand the matter as I do) but because these thoughts have come into my head, and I wish to share them with you. In 170 ESSAYS AND LETTERS your letter I was particularly pleased by your saying- : ' If we observed all that has already been given us from above, we should be quite happy. What is necessary and right, must certainly exist in everyone, and comes directly from above, or is found in one's self/ That is quite true, and is just how 1 understand man's nature. Every man can undoubtedly know the truth of God — all he need know to fulfil what God demands of him in this life — if only this truth revealed to man be not darkened by false human interpretations. Therefore to know God's truth, man should first of all discard all false interpretations, and all the snares of the world tempting him to accept those interpretations, and then truth alone will remain, and will be accessible to little children, for it is native to the soul of man. The chief difficulty is, when discarding falsehood, not to throw away with it some part of the truth, and when explain- ing truth not to introduce new errors. Thank you, dear brother, for the greetings you sent me. Write to me in Moscow, if there is no obstacle to your doing so. Cannot I be of any service to you ? You would please me very much if you would give me some commission to execute. I embrace you as a brother. Leo Tolstoy. [November 21, o.s., 1895.] This letter and the one that follows were written to Peter Verigin while he was at Obdorsk, a small settlement near the mouth of the river Obi in Northern Siberia, undergoing his fifteen years' exile. He was released in 1902, and re- joined his sect in Canada. XI LETTER TO PETER VERiGIN, THE DOUKHOBOR LEADER— II Dear Friend, I received your letter yesterday, and hasten to reply. Letters from you and to you are long on the road, and I have not long to live. In your arguments against books there is very much that is just and ingenious (for instance, the comparison to a medical assistant and a doctor) but the arguments themselves are invalid, chiefly because you contrast books with living intercourse, as though a book ex- cluded living intercourse. In reality, the one does not exclude, but helps, the other. To speak frankly, your stubborn contention against books seems to me a peculiarly sectarian method of defending a once accepted and expressed opinion. And such peculiarity does not accord with the concep- tion I had formed of your intellect, and especially of your candour and sincerity. God leads men to Himself, and to the performance of His will, by all paths : they move consciously when they try to do His will, and unconsciously when, as they suppose, they are doing their own will. To accomplish God's will — to establish His kingdom on earth — union among men is needed, that all may be one, as Jesus felt himself to be one witli the Father. For this union, we need (1) an internal means : the recognition and clear expression of truth, such as Jesus achieved, and such as unites all men ; and (2) an external means : the diffusion of this expression of [ 171 ] 172 ESSAYS AND LETTERS truth — a diffusion accomplished by very diverse methods : by trade, and conquest, and travel, aud books, and railroads, and telegraphs, and in many other ways, some of which, such as conquest, I have to repudiate, but others, such as books and means of rapid communication, I have no cause to repudiate, and cannot (unless I wish to deprive myself of a con- venient means of serving God) refuse to utilize. As to your argument that to produce books and railroads people have to burrow underground for ore and to work at a furnace, why — all that has to be done before one can have even a ploughshare, or spade, or a scythe. And there is nothing bad in burrowing under- ground for ore, or working at a furnace ; and when I was young I would willingly have burrowed under- ground or worked at a furnace, to show my spirit, and so would any good young fellow to-day, provided the work were not compulsory, nor for life, and were sur- rounded by all the conveniences which will certainly be devised as soon as everyone is expected to work, and the labour is not put on wage-slaves only. But let us not pursue this subject ; only believe me that if I write to you thus, I do it neither because I have written many books and still write them — I most heartily agree with you, that the very simplest good life is more precious than the most beautiful of books — nor because thanks to books I come into touch with other men — as happened this autumn with a Hindu who fully shares our Christian outlook (and who has sent me an English book by a lady, his compatriot, explaining the teachings of the Brahmans in conformity with the essentials of Christ's teaching), and again with some Japs who profess and teach a quite Christian morality, and two of whom visited me a few days ago. Not by these things am I withheld from agreeing with you, and from condemning book-printing, railroads, telephones, and other such things — but because when 1 see an ant-hill in the meadow I cannot admit that the ants have been mistaken in constructing that hill, and doing all they are doing in it. And in the same way, LETTER TO PETER VEIlfGIN— II 173 looking at all the material labours mankind has accom- plished^ I cannot admit that they have done it all by mistake. As a man and not an ant, I see defects in the human ant-hill, and cannot but wish to rectify them — in that lies my share of the common work — but I do not wish to destroy the whole hill of human labour, but only to arrange better what is ill-arranged in it. And in the human ant-hill there is very much that is ill-arranged, concerning which I have written and yet write, have suffered and yet suffer, and which as far as I have strength I try to alter. What is wrong in our life is, first and foremost, the fact that the means are put in place of the aim, and what should be the aim (the welfare of our fellow-men) is sacri- ficed to the means. The welfare of man, even his life itself, is sacrificed to produce things of which only some are wanted by everyone, but some of which are only good to serve the caprice of a single man. So that human lives are sacrificed to produce articles wanted only by a few, or wanted by no one, or that are even simply harmful. What is wrong is that people forget, have forgotten, or do not know, that (not to speak of the production of such things as looking-glasses) not even to produce the most important and necessary things — such as plough- shares or scythes — is it permissible or justifiable to sacrifice a single life, or to destroy the happiness of a single man — even the most apparently insignificant ; for the meaning of human life lies solely in the welfare of all men. To infringe the life and welfare of any man for the welfare of mankind in general, is the same as if for an animaPs welfare we were to cut off one of his limbs. That is where the terrible mistake of our times is to be found ; not in the fact that printing-offices, rail- roads, and other such things exist, but in the fact that men consider it allowable to sacrifice the welfare, were it only of a single man, for the accomplishment of any business however great. As soon as people lose sight of the meaning and aim of their activity (and there is 174 ESSAYS AND LETTERS only one aim — the welfare of one's neighbour), as soon as they decide that for business purposes it is permis- sible to sacrifice the life and welfare of a single old man, burdensome to everyone, or even of an idiot, then it becomes permissible to sacrifice those who are less old and less stupid, and no limit can any longer be found — all may be sacrificed for the sake of business. That is what is wrong, and against that we must fight. It should be understood that, however useful and important book-printing, railroads, ploughs and scythes may seem to us, it were better to let them all perish and to do without them, until we can learn to get them without destroying the happiness and life of men. That is the whole question ; and it is here people generally get confused, trying to go round the point on one side or the other. Some say : e You want to destroy all that humanity has achieved by its labour — you wish to return to barbarism, for the sake of some moral principle or other. Moral principles are wrong if they hinder the well-being humanity achieves in the course of its progress/ Others say (and I fear you hold this opinion, and it is an opinion people attribute to me) that since, in the process of attaining all the material ameliorations of life, moral principles have been violated, therefore all these ameliorations must, in themselves, be bad and should be abandoned. To the upholders of the first view I reply, that what is needed is not to destroy anything, but only to remember that the aim of humanity is the welfare of all, and that consequently as soon as any amelioration deprives even a single man of welfare, that amelioration should be abandoned, and not introduced until means are found to produce it and to use it, without infring- ing the welfare of any single man. And I think that with such a view of life, very many empty and harmful productions would be abandoned, while we should very quickly find means to produce what is really useful without infringing the welfare of any man. To the upholders of the second view I reply, that humanity in passing from the stone age to the bronze or LETTER TO PETER VERIGIX— II 175 iron age, and progressing to its present material condi- tion, cannot have made a mistake, but has followed an unalterable law of progress, and to turn back is, I will not say undesirable, but is as impossible as it is for us again to become monkeys ; and that the problem for a man of to-day is not to dream about what people used to be like, and how to revert to what they were, but it is — to serve the welfare of men now living. And what is necessary for the welfare of men now living is — that some men should not torment others or oppress them, should not deprive them of the products of their labour, nor compel them to work at things they do not need or may not have ; and chiefly that it should not be con- sidered possible or right, for the sake of any practical advantage or material success, to sacrifice the life or welfare of one's neighbour, or, what is the same thing differently expressed, to infringe the law of love. If people only knew that the aim of humanity is not material progress, but that that progress is an inevitable growth, and that the aim is simply the welfare of all men, and that this aim is superior to any material aim people can set themselves, then everything would fall into its proper place. And it is to this, people of our time should devote all their strength. But to weep because men cannot now live without implements, like wild beasts, feeding themselves on fruits, is as if I, an old man, were to weep for lack of teeth and black hair and the strength I had in my youth. What I have to do is, not to insert false teeth, dye my hair, and do gymnastics, but to try to live in the way natural- for an old man, putting first — not worldly affairs, but the affairs of God — union and love, and admitting worldly affairs only in so far as they do- not infringe God's work. The same should be done by humanity in its present stage of existence. But to say that railroads, gas, electricity and book- printing are harmful, because for their sake human lives are sacrificed, is like saying that ploughing and sowing are harmful — merely because I ploughed a field at the wrong time, let it get overgrown with weeds r 176 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and then sowed seed without reploughing — that is to say, did things out of turn and at the wrong time. I was very glad to see what you write about your own life ; and that even in the difficult circumstances in which you are placed you practise what you preach — earning your bread by your own work. In nothing else can a man's sincerity be so well seen. I have now become very faulty in that respect : surrounded as I am by all kinds of luxury, which I hate, but from which I have not the strength to escape. Your example encourages me, and I do not cease to make efforts. Thanks for sending the extract from your diary. Concerning thoughts there expressed by you, I should like to share with you certain observations that tend in the same direction. I will do so another time. Farewell meanwhile ; please do not let yourself feel any ill will towards me for my reply to the opinions expressed not only in your letter to me, but also in the letter to E. J. You are very dear to me, and I try to deal as straightforwardly as possible, like a brother, in relation to you. Yours lovingly, Leo Tolstoy. (October 14, o.s., 1896.] XII LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE : TO ERNEST H. CROSBY, OF NEW YORK Dear Mr. Crosby, I am very glad to have news of your activity, and to hear that your work begins to attract attention. Fifty years ago Lloyd Garrison's Declaration of Non- Resistance* only estranged people from him ; and Ballou'st fifty years' labour in the same direction was constantly met by a conspiracy of silence. I now read with great pleasure in the Voice admirable thoughts by American writers on this question of Non-Resistance. I need only demur to the notion expressed by Mr. Bemis. It is an old but unfounded libel upon Christ to suppose that the expulsion of the cattle from the temple indicates that Jesus beat people with a whip and advised his disciples to behave in the same way. % The opinions expressed by these writers, especially by Heber Newton and G. D. Herron, are quite correct, but unfortunately they do not reply to the question Christ put to men, but to another question which has been substituted for it by those chief and most dangerous * The Declaration of Non - Resistance drawn up by William Lloyd Garrison was adopted at a Peace Convention held in Boston, September 18-20, 1838. f Adin Ballou (1803-1890), a Massachusetts Restorationist minister, founder of Hopedale Community (1842-1856), and author of Christian Non-Resistance. X Christ's use of a scourge is mentioned only in St. John's Gospel. Our Revised Version, following the Greek, indi- cates that the scourge was for ' the sheep and the oxen.' [ 177 ] m 178 ESSAYS AND LETTERS opponents of Christianity — the so-called c orthodox ' ecclesiastical authorities. Mr. Higginson says, ( 1 do not believe Non-Resist- ance admissible as a universal rule/ Heber Newton says that ( People's opinion as to the practical results of the application of Christ's teaching will depend on the extent of people's belief in his authority.' Carlos Martyn considers 'The transition stage in which we live not suited for the application of the doctrine of Non-Resistance.' G. D. Herron holds 'That to obey the law of Non-Resistance we must learn how to apply it to life.' Mrs. Livermore, thinking that the law of Non-Resistance can be fully obeyed only in the future, says the same. All these views refer to the question, * What would happen if people were all obliged to obey the law of Non-Resistance?' But, in the first place, it is im- possible to oblige everyone to accept this law. Secondly, if it were possible to do so, such compulsion would in itself be a direct negation of the very principle set up. Oblige all men to refrain from violence ! Who then would enforce the decision ? Thirdly, and this is the chief point, the question as put by Christ is not at all, Can Non-Resistance become a general law for hu- manity? but, How must each man act to fulfil his allotted task, to save his soul, and to do the will of God? — which are all really one and the same thing. Christian teaching does not lay down laws for every- body, and does not say to people, ' You all, for fear of punishment, must obey such and such rules, and then you will all be happy'; but it explains to each indi- vidual his position in relation to the world, and lets him see what results, for him individually, inevitably flow from that relation. Christianity says to man (and to each man separately) that his personal life can have no rational meaning if he counts it as belonging to him- self, or as having for its aim worldly happiness for himself or for other people. This is so because the happiness he seeks is unattainable : (1) because, as all LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE 179 beings strive after worldly advantages, the gain of one is the loss of others, and it is most probable that each individual will incur much superfluous suffering in the course of his vain efforts to seize unattainable blessings ; (2) because, even if a man get worldly advantages, the more he obtains the less they satisfy him and the more he hankers after fresh ones ; (3) and chiefly because the longer a man lives, the more inevitable becomes the approach of old age, sickness, and of death, destroy- ing all possibility of worldly advantages. So that if a man considers his life his own, to be spent in seeking worldly happiness for himself as well as for others, then that life can have no rational explanation for him. Life has a rational meaning only when one under- stands that to consider our life our own, or to see its aim in worldly happiness for ourselves or for other people, is a delusion ; that a man's life does not belong to him who has received it, but to Him who has given it ; and its object should, therefore, be, not the attain- ment of worldly happiness either for one's self or for other individuals, but solely the fulfilment of the will of Him who created this life. This conception alone gives life a rational meaning, and makes its aim (which is to fulfil the will of God) attainable. And, most important of all, only when enlightened by this conception does man see clearly the right direction for his own activity. Man is then no longer destined to suffer and to despair, as was inevit- able under the former conception. 'The universe and I in it/ says to himself a man with this conception, ? exist by the will of God. ^ I cannot know the whole of the universe (for in its immensity it transcends my comprehension), nor can I know my own position in it, but I do know with cer- tainty what God, who has sent me into the world (infinite in time and space, and therefore incomprehen- sible to me), demands from me. This is revealed to me (1) by the collective wisdom of the best men who have gone before me, i.e., by tradition, (2) bv my own it— 2 180 ESSAYS AND LETTERS reason, and (3) by my heart, i.e., by the highest aspira- tion of my nature. Tradition (the collective wisdom of our greatest fore- runners) tells me that I should do unto others as I would that they should do unto me. My reason shows me that only by all men acting thus is the highest happiness for all men attainable. Only when I yield myself to that intuition of love which demands obedience to this law, is my own heart happy and at rest. And not only can I then know how to act, but I can and do discern the work to co-operate in which my activity was designed and is required. I cannot fathom God's whole design, for the sake of which the universe exists and lives ; but the Divine work which is being accomplished in this world and in which I participate by living is comprehensible to me. This work is the annihilation of discord and strife among men and among all creatures, and the establish- ment of the highest unity and concord and love. It i/s the fulfilment of the promises of the Hebrew prophet who foretold a time when all men should be taught by truth, when spears should be turned into reaping-hooks, swords be beaten to ploughshares, and the lion lie down with the lamb. So that a man of Christian intelligence not only knows what he has to do, but he also understands the work he is doing. He has to act so as to co-operate towards the estab- lishment of the kingdom of God on earth. For this a man must obey his intuition of God's will, i.e., must act lovingly towards others, as he would that others should act towards him. Thus the intuitive demands of man's soul coincide with the external aim of life which he sees before him. According to Christian teaching, man in this world is God's labourer. A labourer does not know his master's whole design, but he does know the immediate object which he is set to work at. He receives definite LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE 181 instructions what to do, and especially what not to do, lest he hinder the attainment of the very aims towards which his labour should tend. For the rest he has full liberty given him. And, therefore, for a man who has grasped the Christian conception of life, the meaning of his life is perfectly plain and reasonable, nor can he have a moment's hesitation as to how he should act, or what he should do to fulfil the object for which he lives. And yet in spite of such a twofold indication (clear and indubitable to a man of Christian understanding) of what is the real aim and meaning of human life, and of what men should do and should not do, we find people (and people calling themselves Christians) who decide that, in such and such circumstances, men ought to abandon God's law and reason's guidance and to act in opposition to them, because (according to their concep- tion) the effects of actions performed in submission to God's law may be detrimental or inconvenient. According to the law contained alike in tradition, in our reason, and in our hearts, man should always do unto others as he would that they should do unto him ; he should always co-operate in the development of love and union among created beings. But, in the judg- ment of these far-sighted people, on the contrary, as long as in their opinion it is premature to obey this law, man should do violence — imprison or kill people — and thereby evoke anger and venom instead of loving union in the hearts of men. It is as though a brick- layer, set to do a particular task and knowing that he was co-operating with others to build a house, after receiving clear and precise instructions from the master himself how to build a certain wall, accepted orders from some fellow-bricklayers (who like himself knew neither the plan of the house, nor what would fit in with it) to cease building his wall, and, instead, to pull down a wall that other workmen had erected. Astonishing delusion ! A being who breathes to-day and has vanished to-morrow receives one definite indubitable law to guide him through the brief term 182 ESSAYS AND LETTERS of his life ; but, instead of obeying that law, he prefers to fancy that he knows what is necessary, advantageous, and well-timed for men and for all the world — this world which continually changes and evolves — and for the sake of some advantage (which each man pictures after his own fancy) he decides that he and other people should, temporarily, abandon the indubitable law given to him and to all men, and should act, not as he would that others should act towards him, nor to bring love into 'the world — but should do violence, imprison, kill, and bring into the world enmity whenever it seems to him advisable to do so. And he decides to act thus, though he knows that the most horrible cruelties, martyrdoms, and murders — from the Inquisition, and the murders and horrors of all the revolutions, down to the brutalities of contemporary Anarchists and their slaughter by the established authorities — have only occurred because people will imagine that they know what is necessary for mankind and for the world. But are there not always, at any given moment, two oppo- site parties, each of which declares that it is necessary to use force against the other ? The ' law-and-order ' party against the Anarchist, the Anarchist against the ' law-and-order ' men ; English against Americans, and Americans against English ; Germans against English, and English against Germans, and so forth in all possible combinations and rearrangements. A man enlightened by Christianity sees that he has no reason to abandon the law of God, given to enable him to walk sure-footedly through life, in order to follow the chance, inconstant, and often contradictory demands of men. But besides this, if he has lived a Christian life for some time and has developed in him- self a moral Christian sensibility, he literally cannot act as people demand of him. Not his reason alone but his feeling also makes it impossible. To many people of our society it would be impossible to torture or kill a baby, even if they were told that by so doing they could save hundreds of other people. And in the same way, a man who has developed a LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE 183 Christian sensibility of heart finds a whole series of actions become impossible for him. For instance, a Christian who is obliged to take part in judicial pro- ceedings in which a man may be sentenced to death, or who is obliged to take part in evictions or in debating a proposal leading to war, or to participate in prepara- tions for war (not to mention war itself), is in a position parallel to that of a kindly man called on to torture or to kill a baby. It is not reason alone that forbids him to do what is demanded of him ; he feels instinctively that he cannot do it. For certain actions are morally impossible, just as others are physically impossible. As a man cannot lift a mountain, and as a kindly man cannot kill an infant, so a man living a Christian life cannot take part in deeds of violence. Of what value to him, then, are arguments about the imaginary advantages of doing what it is morally impossible for him to do ? But how is a man to act when he sees clearly the evil of following the law of love and its corollary law of Non-Resistance ? How (to use the stock example) is a man to act when he sees a robber killing or outraging a child, and he can only save the child by killing the robber ? When such a case is put, it is generally assumed that the only possible reply is that one should kill the robber to save the child. But this answer is given so quickly and decidedly only because we are all so accustomed to the use of violence — not only to save a child, but even to prevent a neighbouring Government altering its frontier at the expense of ours, or someone from smuggling lace across that frontier, or even to defend our garden fruit from a passer-by. It is assumed that to save the child the robber should be killed. But it is only necessary to consider the question, on what grounds a man (whether he be or be not a Christian) ought to act so, in order to come to the conclusion that such action has no reasonable founda- tion, and only seems to us necessary because up to two thousand years ago such conduct was considered right, 184 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and a habit of acting so was formed. Why should a non-Christian — not acknowledging God, nor regarding the fulfilment of His will as the aim of life — decide to kill the robber in order to defend the child ? By killing the robber, he certainly kills ; whereas he cannot know positively whether the robber would have killed the child or not. But letting that pass, who shall say whether the child's life was more needed, was better, than the robber's life ? Surely, if the non-Christian knows not God nor sees life's meaning in the performance of His will, the only rule for his actions must be a reckoning, a conception, of what is more profitable for him and for all men : a continuation of the robber's life or of the child's. To decide that, he needs to know what would become of the child whom he saves, and what — had he not killed him — would have been the future of the robber he kills. And as he cannot know this, the non-Christian has no sufficient rational ground for killing a robber to save a child. If a man is a Christian, and consequently acknow- ledges God and sees the meaning of life in fulfilling His will, then, however ferocious the robber, however innocent and lovely the child, he has even less ground to abandon the God-given law and to do to the robber what the robber wishes to do to the child. He may plead with the robber, may interpose his own body between the robber and the victim, but there is one thing he cannot do : he cannot deliberately abandon the law he has received from God, the fulfilment of which alone gives meaning to his life. Very probably bad education, or his animal nature, may cause a man (Christian or non-Christian) to kill the robber, not only to save the child, but even to save himself or his purse, but it does not follow that he is right in acting thus, nor that he should accustom himself or others to think such conduct right. What it does show is that, notwithstanding a coating of education and of Christianity, the habits of the Stone Age are yet so strong in man, that he still com- LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE 185 mits actions long since condemned by his reasonable conscience. I see a robber killing a child, and I can save the child by killing the robber — therefore in certain cases violence must be used to resist evil. A man's life is in danger, and can be saved only by my telling a lie — therefore in certain cases one must lie. A man is starving, and one can save him only by stealing — there- fore in certain cases one must steal. I lately read a story by Coppee, in which an orderly kills his officer, whose life was insured, and thereby saves the honour and the family of the officer. There- fore in certain cases one must kill. Such inventions, and the deductions from them, only prove that there are men who know that it is not well to steal, to lie, or to kill, but who are still so unwilling that people should cease to do these things, that they use all their mental powers to invent excuses for such conduct. There is no moral law concerning which we may not devise a case in which it is difficult to decide what is more moral : to disobey the law or to obey it ? But all such inventions fail to prove that the laws, e thou shalt not lie, steal, or kill/ are invalid. It is the same with reference to the law of Non- Resistance. People know it is wrong to use violence, but they are so anxious to continue to live a life secured by the e strong arm of the law/ that — instead of devot- ing their intellects to the elucidation of the evils which have flowed and are still flowing from admitting that man has a right to use violence to his fellow-men — they prefer to exert their mental powers in defence of that error. c Fais ce que dots, advienne que pourra * (' Do what's right, come what may ') is an expression of profound wisdom. We each can know indubitably what we ought to do, but what results will follow from our actions none of us either knows or can know. There- fore it follows that, besides feeling the call of duty, we are further driven to act as duty bids us, by the consideration that we have no other guidance, but 186 ESSAYS AND LETTERS are totally ignorant of what will result from our actions. Christian teaching indicates what a man should do to perform the will of Him who sent him into life ; but discussion as to what results we anticipate from such or such human actions have nothing to do with Christianity, but are just an example of the error Christianity eliminates. None of us has ever yet met the imaginary robber with the imaginary child, but all the horrors which fill the annals of history and of our own times came and come from this one thing — that people will believe that they can foresee the results of hypothetical future actions. The case is this : People once lived an animal life, and violated or killed whom they thought well to violate or to kill. They even ate each other ; and public opinion approved of it. Thousands of years ago, as far back as the times of Moses, a day came when people realized that to violate or kill each other is bad. But there were people for whom the reign of force was advantageous, and these did not approve of the change, but assured themselves and others that to do deeds of violence and to kill people is not always bad, but that there are circumstances when it is necessary and even moral. And violence and even slaughter, though not so frequent or so cruel as before, continued — only with this difference, that those who committed or commended such acts excused themselves by pleading that they did it for the benefit of humanity. It was just this sophistical justification of violence that Christ denounced. When two enemies fight, each may think his own conduct justified by the circum- stances. Excuses can be made for every use of violence ; and no infallible standard has ever been discovered by which to measure the worth of these excuses. There- fore Christ taught us to believe in no excuse for violence, and (contrary to what had been taught by them of old time) never to use violence. One would have thought that those who professed LETTER ON NON-RESISTANCE 187 Christianity would have been indefatigable in exposing deception in this matter, for such an exposure forms one of the chief features of Christianity. What really happened was just the reverse. People who profited by violence, and who did not wish to give up their advan- tages, took on themselves a monopoly of Christian preaching, and declared that as cases can be found in which Non-Resistance causes more harm than the use of violence (the imaginary robber killing the imaginary child), therefore Christ's doctrine of Non-Resistance need not always be followed, and that one may deviate from his teaching to defend one's life or the life of others, to defend one's country, to save society from lunatics or criminals, and in many other cases. The decision of the question, In what cases should Christ's teaching be set aside ? was left to the very people who employed violence. So that it ended by Christ's teaching, on the subject of not resisting evil, by violence being com- pletely annulled. And, worst of all, the very people Christ denounced came to consider themselves the sole preachers and expositors of his doctrines. But the light shines through the darkness, and Christ's teaching is again exposing the pseudo-teachers of Christianity. We may think about rearranging the world to suit our own taste — no one can prevent that — and we may try to do what seems to us pleasant or profitable, and with that object treat our fellow-creatures with violence on the pretext that we are doing good. But acting thus we cannot pretend to follow Christ's teach- ing, for Christ denounced just this deception. Truth sooner or later reappears, and the false teachers are unmasked, which is just what is happening to-day. Only let the question of man's life be rightly put, as Christ put it, and not as it has been perversely put by the Churches, and the whole structure of falsehood which the Churches have built over Christ's teaching, will collapse of itself. The real question is not whether it would be good or bad for a certain human society that people should follow the law of Love and the consequent law of Non- 188 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Resistance, but it is this, Do you, who to-day live and to-morrow will die — who are indeed tending deathward every moment — do you wish now, immediately and entirely, to obey the law of Him who sent you into life, and who clearly showed you His will alike in tradition and in your mind and heart ; or do you prefer to resist his will? And as soon as the question is put thus, only one reply is possible — I wish now, this moment, without delay or hesitation, to the very utmost of my strength, neither waiting for anyone nor counting the cost, to do that which alone is clearly demanded by Him who sent me into the world ; and on no account, and under no conditions, do I wish to, or can I, act otherwise, for herein lies my only possibility of a rational and unharassed life. [January 12, o.s., 1896.] XIII HOW TO READ THE GOSPELS, AND WHAT IS ESSENTIAL IN THEM There is so much that is strange, improbable, unin- telligible, and even contradictory, in what professes to be Christ's teaching, that people do not know how to understand it. It is very differently understood by different people. Some say Redemption is the all-important matter ; others say the all-important thing is grace, obtainable through the Sacraments ; others, again, that submission to the Church is what is really essential. But the Churches themselves disagree, and interpret the teach- ing variously. The Roman Catholic Church holds that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son, that the Pope is infallible, and that salvation is obtain- able chiefly through works. The Lutheran Church disagrees, and considers that faith is what is chiefly needed for salvation. The Orthodox Russo-Greek Church considers that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father only, and that both works and faith are necessary to salvation. And the Anglican and other Episcopalian Churches, the Presbyterian and the Methodist, not to mention hundreds of others, each interpret Christ's teaching in their own way. Young men and men of the people, doubting the truth of the Church teaching in which they have been brought up, often come to me and ask what my teach- ing is, and how I understand Christ's teaching ? Such questions always grieve and even shock me. Christ, who the Churches say was God, came on [ 189 ] 190 ESSAYS AND LETTERS earth to reveal divine truth to men for their guidance in life. A man — even a plain, stupid man — if he wants to give people guidance of importance to them, will manage to impart it so that they can make out what he means. And is it possible that God, having come on earth specially to save people, was not able to say what he wanted to say clearly enough to prevent people from misinterpreting his words, and from disagreeing with each other about them ? This could not be so if Christ were God ; nor even if Christ were not God, but were merely a great teacher, is it possible that he failed to express himself clearly. For a great teacher is great just because he is able to express the truth so that it can neither be hidden nor obscured, but is as plain as daylight. In either case, therefore, the Gospels which transmit Christ's teaching must contain truth. And, indeed, the truth is there for all who will read the Gospels with a sincere wish to know the truth, without pre- judice and, above all, without supposing that they contain some special sort of wisdom beyond human reason. That is how I read the Gospels, and I found in them truth plain enough for little children to understand, as indeed is said in the Gospels. So that when I am asked what my teaching consists in, and how I understand Christ's teaching, I reply : c 1 have no teaching, but I understand Christ's teaching as it is explained in the Gospels. If I have written books about Christ's teach- ing, I have done so only to show the falseness of inter- pretations given by commentators on the Gospels.' To understand Christ's real teaching, the chief thing is not to interpret the Gospels, but to understand them as they are written. And therefore, to the question how Christ's teaching should be understood, 1 reply : ' If you wish to understand it, read the Gospels. Read them, putting aside all foregone conclusions ; read them with the sole desire to understand what is there said. But just because the Gospels are holy books, read them considerately, reasonably, and with discern- HOW TO READ THE GOSPELS 191 ment, and not haphazard or mechanically, as though all the words were of equal weight/ To understand any book one must choose out the parts that are quite clear, dividing them from what is obscure or confused. And from what is clear we must form our idea of the drift and spirit of the whole work. Then, on the basis of what we have understood, we may proceed to make out what is con- fused or not quite intelligible. That is how we read all kinds of books. And it is particularly necessary thus to read the Gospels, which have passed through a multiplicity of compilations, translations, and transcrip- tions, and were composed eighteen centuries ago, by men who were not highly educated, and who were superstitious.* Therefore, in order to understand the Gospels, we must first of all separate what is quite simple and in- telligible from what is confused and unintelligible, and must afterwards read this clear and intelligible part several times over, trying fully to assimilate it. Then, helped by the comprehension of the general meaning, we can try to explain to ourselves the drift of the parts which seemed involved and obscure. That was how I read the Gospels, and the meaning of Christ's teaching became so clear to me that it was impossible to have any doubts about it. And I advise everyone who wishes * The Gospels, as is known to all who have studied their origin, far from being infallible expressions of divine truth, are the work of innumerable minds and hands, and are full of errors. Therefore the Gospels can in no case be taken as a production of the Holy Ghost, as Churchmen assert. "Were that so, God would have revealed the Gospels as He is said to have revealed the Commandments on Mount Sinai ; or He would have transmitted the complete book to men, as the Mormons declare was the case with their Holy Scriptures. But we know how these works were written and collected, and how they were corrected and translated ; and therefore not only can we not accept them as infallible revelations, but we must, if we respect truth, correct errors that we find in them. — L. T. 102 ESSAYS AND LETTERS to understand the true meaning of Christ's teaching to follow the same plan. Let each man, in reading the Gospels, select all that seems to him quite plain, clear, and comprehensible, and let him score it down the margin — say with a blue pencil — and then, taking the marked passages first, let him separate Christ's words from those of the Evan- gelists by marking Christ's words a second time with, say, a red pencil. Then let him read over these doubly- scored passages several times. Only after he has thoroughly assimilated these, let him again read the words attributed to Christ which he did not understand when he first read them, and let him score, in red, those which have become plain to him. Let him leave unscored the words of Christ which remain quite unin- telligible, and also unintelligible words by the writers of the Gospels. The passages marked in red will supply the reader with the essence of Christ's teaching. They will give what all men need, and what Christ therefore said in a way that all can understand. The place^ marked only in blue will give what the authors of the Gospels said that is intelligible. Very likely in selecting what is, from what is not, fully comprehensible, people will not all choose the same passages. What is comprehensible to one may seem obscure to another. But all will certainly agree in what is most important, and these are things which will be found quite intelligible to everyone. It is just this — just what is fully comprehensible to all men — that constitutes the essence of Christ's teaching. [July 22, o.s., 1896.] XIV A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS* I should be very glad to join you and your associates — whose work I know and appreciate — in standing up for the rights of the Literature Committee and opposing the enemies of popular education. But in the sphere in which you are working I see no way to resist them. My only consolation is that !_, too, am constantly engaged in struggling against the same enemies of enlightenment, though in another manner. * Though published as A Letter to Russian Liberals, this letter was, in the first instance, addressed to a Russian lady who wrote to Tolstoy asking his advice or assistance when the Literature Committee (Komitet Gramotnosti) was closed. The circumstances were as follows : A ' Voluntary Economic Society ' (founded in the reign of Catherine the Great) existed, and was allowed to debate economic problems within certain limits. Its existence was sanctioned by, and it was under the control of, the Ministry of the Interior. A branch of this society was formed, called the ' Literature Committee.' This branch aimed at spreading good and wholesome literature among the people and in the schools, by establishing libraries or in other ways. Their views as to what books it is good for people to read did not, how- ever, tally with those of the Government, and in 1896 it was decreed that the ' Voluntary Economic Society ' should be transferred from the supervision of the Ministry of the Interior to that of the Ministry of Education. This, trans- lated into unofficial language, meant that the activity of the Committee was to terminate, and the proceedings of the society to be reduced to a formality. [ 193 ] N 194 ESSAYS AND LETTERS Concerning the special question with which you are preoccupied, I think that in place of the Literature Committee which has been prohibited, a number of other Literature Associations to pursue the same objects should be formed without consulting the Government, and without asking permission from any censor. Let Government, if it likes, prosecute these Literature Associations, punish the members, banish them, etc. If the Government does that, it will merely cause people to attach special importance to good books and to libraries, and it will strengthen the trend towards enlightenment. It seems to me that it is now specially important to do what is right quietly and persistently, not only without asking permission from Government, but con- sciously avoiding its participation. The strength of the Government lies in the people's ignorance, and the Government knows this, and will therefore always oppose true enlightenment. It is time we realized that fact. And it is most undesirable to let the Government, while it is spreading darkness, pretend to be busy with the enlightenment of the people. It is doing this now by means of all sorts of pseudo-educa- tional establishments which it controls : schools, high- schools, universities, academies, and all kinds of committees and congresses. But good is good, and enlightenment is enlightenment, only when it is quite good and quite enlightened, and not when it is toned down to meet the requirements of Delyanof s* or Dour- novd's circulars. And I am extremely sorry when I see valuable, disinterested, and self-sacrificing efforts spent unprofitably. It is strange to see good, wise people spending their strength in a struggle against the Govern- ment, but carrying on that struggle on the basis of whatever laws the Government itself likes to make. This is how the matter appears to me : There are people (we ourselves are such) who realize * Delyanof was Minister of Education and Dournovo was Minister of the Interior when the Committee was sup- pressed. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 195 that our Government is very bad, and who struggle against it. From before the days of Radistchef* and the Decembrists there have been two ways of carrying on the struggle. One way is that of Stenka Razin,t Pougatchef,! the Decembrists, the Revolutionary party of the 'sixties, § the Terrorists of March 1,|| and others. The other way is that which is preached and practised by you, the method of the c Gradualists/ which consists in carrying on the struggle without violence and within the limits of the law, conquering constitutional rights bit by bit. Within my memory both these methods have been employed unremittingly for more than half a century, * Radistchef, the author of A Journey from Petersburg to Moscow, was a Liberal whose efforts towards the abolition of serfdom led to his being banished to Siberia. Recalled to Petersburg after five years, he recommenced his activity as a reformer, was reproved and threatened by the Government, became hypochondriac, and committed suicide in 1802/ As to the Decembrists, see footnote on p. 160. f Stenka Razin was a Cossack who raised a formidable insurrection in the seventeenth century. He was eventually defeated and captured, and was executed in Moscow in 1671. X Pougatchef headed the most formidable Russian insur- rection of the eighteenth century. He was executed in Moscow in 1775. § The series of reforms, including the abolition of serf- dom, which followed the Crimean War and the death of Nicholas I., were, from the first, adopted half-heartedly, and since the time of the Polish insurrection (1863) the control of the Government has been in reactionary hands. The more vehement members of the Liberal party, losing hope of constitutional reform, formed a Revolutionary party in the 'sixties, and later on the Terrorist party was started, which organized assassinations as a means towards liberty, equality, and fraternity. || Alexander II. was killed by a bomb thrown at him in the streets of Petersburg on March 1, o.s. (March 13, n.s.), 1881. This assassination was organized by the Terrorist party. n 2 196 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and yet the state of things grows worse and worse. Even such signs of improvement as do show themselves have come, not from either of these kinds of activity, but from causes of which I will speak later on, and in spite of the harm done by these two kinds of activity. Meanwhile, the power against which we struggle grows ever greater, stronger, and more insolent. The last gleams of self-government — Local Government, public trial, your Literature Committee, etc., etc. — are all being done away with. Now that both methods have been tried without effect for so long a time, we may, it seems to me, see clearly that neither the one nor the other will do, and see also why this is so. To me, at least, who have always dis- liked our Government, but have never adopted either of the above methods of resisting it, the defects of both methods are apparent. The first method is unsatisfactory, because even could an attempt to alter the existing regime by violent means succeed, there would be no guarantee that the new organization would be durable, and that the enemies of that new order would not, at some convenient oppor- tunity, triumph by using violence such as had been used against them, as has happened over and over again in France and wherever else there have been revolu- tions. And so the new order of things, established by violence, would have continually to be supported by violence — i.e., by wrong-doing. And, consequently, it would inevitably, and very quickly, be vitiated, like the order it replaced. And in case of failure the violence of the Revolutionists only strengthens the order of things they strive against (as has always been the case, in our Russian experience, from PougatcheT s rebellion to the attempt of March 1), for it drives the whole crowd of undecided people — who stand wavering between the two parties — into the camp of the conserva- tive and retrograde party. So I think that, guided both by reason and experience, we may boldly say that this means, besides being immoral, is irrational and ineffectual. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 197 The other method is, in my opinion, even less effec- tual or rational. It is ineffectual and irrational because Government — holding in its grasp the whole power (the army, the administration, the Church, the schools, and the police), and framing what are called the laws on the basis of which the Liberals wish to resist it — this Government knows very well what is really dangerous to it, and will never let people who submit to it and act under its guidance do anything that will undermine its authority. For instance, take the case before us : a Government such as ours, or any other which rests on the ignorance of the people, will never consent to their being really enlightened. It will sanction all kinds of pseudo-educational organizations controlled by itself — schools, high schools, universities, academies, and all kinds of committees and congresses and publications sanctioned by the censor — so long as these organiza- tions and publications serve its purpose — that is, stupefy the people, or at least do not hinder their stupefaction. But as soon as those organizations or publications attempt to cure that on which the power of Govern- ment rests (namely, the blindness of the people), the Government will simply, and without rendering any account to anyone, or saying why it acts so and not otherwise, pronounce its veto, and will rearrange or close the establishments and organizations, and forbid the publications. And therefore, as both reason and experience clearly show, such an illusory, gradual con- quest of rights is a self-deception which suits the Government admirably, and which it, therefore, is even ready to encourage. But not only is this activity irrational and ineffectual, it is also harmful. It is harmful because enlightened, good, and honest people by entering the ranks of the Government give it a moral authority which but for them it would not possess. If the Government were made up entirely of that coarse element — the men of violence, self-seekers, and flatterers — who form its core, it could not continue to exist. The fact that honest and enlightened people are found participating in the 198 ESSAYS AND LETTERS affairs of the Government gives Government whatever moral prestige it possesses. That is one evil resulting from the activity of Liberals who participate in the affairs of Government, or who come to terms with it. Another evil of such activity is that to secure opportunities to carry on their work, these highly-enlightened and honest people have to begin to compromise, and so, little by little, come to consider that for a good end one may swerve somewhat from truth in word and deed. For instance, that one may, though not believing in the established Church, take part in its ceremonies ; may take oaths ; may, when necessary for the success of some affair, present petitions couched in language which is untruthful and derogatory to man's natural dignity ; may enter the army ; may take part in a Local Government which has been stripped of all its powers ; may serve as a master or a professor, teaching not what one considers necessary one's self, but what one is told to teach by the Govern- ment ; that one may even become a Zemsky Natchdlnik* submitting to Governmental demands and instructions which violate one's conscience ; may edit newspapers and periodicals, remaining silent about what ought to be mentioned, and printing what one is ordered to print : and entering into these compromises — the limits of which cannot be foreseen — enlightened and honest people, who alone could form some barrier to the infringements of human liberty by the Government, * During the Reform period, in the reign of Alexander II., many iniquities of the old judicial system were abolished. Among other innovations ' Judges of the Peace ' were appointed to act as magistrates. They were elected (indi- rectly) ; if possessed of a certain property qualification, men of any class were eligible, and the regulations under which they acted were drawn up in a comparatively liberal spirit. Under Alexander III. the office of * Judge of the Peace' was abolished, and was replaced by Z&msky Na- tchdlniks. Only members of the aristocracy were eligible ; they were not elected, but appointed by Government, and they were armed with authority to have peasants flogged. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 190 retreating, little by little, further and further from the demands of conscience, fall at last into a position of complete dependency on the Government. They receive rewards and salaries from it, and, continuing to imagine that they are forwarding Liberal ideas, become the humble servants and supporters of the very order against which they set out to fight. It is true that there are also better, sincere people in the Liberal camp, whom the Government cannot bribe, and who remain unbought and free from salaries and position. But even these people, having been en- snared in the nets spread by Government, beat their wings in their cages (as you are now doing in your Committee), unable to advance from the spot they are on. Or else, becoming enraged, they go over to the revolutionary camp ; or they shoot themselves ; or take to drink ; or they abandon the whole struggle in despair, and, oftenest of all, retire into literary activity, in which, yielding to the demands of the censor, they say only what they are allowed to say, and by that very silence about what is most important convey to the public distorted views, which just suit the Government. But they continue to imagine that they are serving society by the writings which give them means of subsistence. Thus, reflection and experience alike show me that both the means of combating Government used hereto- fore, are not only ineffectual, but actually tend to strengthen the power and irresponsibility of the Government. What is to be done ? Evidently not what for seventy years past has proved fruitless, and has only produced reverse results. What is to be done ? Just what those have done, to whose activity we owe the progress towards light and good that has been achieved since the world began, and that is still being achieved to-day. That is what must be done ! And what is it ? Merely the simple, quiet, truthful carrying on of what you consider good and needful, quite inde- pendently of the Government, or of whether it likes it 200 ESSAYS AND LETTERS or not. In other words : standing up for one's rights, not as a member of the ( Literature Committee/ nor as a deputy, nor as a land-owner, nor as a merchant, nor even as a Member of Parliament ; but standing up for one's rights as a rational and free man, and defending them — not as the rights of Local Boards or Committees are defended, with concessions and compromises, but without any concessions or compromises — in the only way in which moral and human dignity can be defended. Successfully to defend a fortress, one has to burn all the houses in the suburbs and leave only what is strong, and what you intend not to surrender on any account. Only from the basis of this firm stronghold can we conquer all we require. True, the rights of a Member of Parliament, or even of a member of a Local Board, are greater than the rights of an ordinary man ; and it seems as though we could do much by using those rights. But the hitch is that to obtain the rights of a Member of Parliament, or of a committee-man, one has to abandon part of one's rights as a man. And having abandoned part of one's rights as a man, there is no longer any fixed point of leverage, and one can no longer either conquer or maintain any real right. In order to lift others out of a quagmire one must one's self stand on firm ground ; and if, hoping the better to assist others, you go into the quagmire, you will not pull others out, but will yourself sink in. It may be very desirable and useful to get an eight- hours' day legalized by Parliament, or to get a Liberal programme for school libraries sanctioned through your Committee ; but if as a means to this end a Member of Parliament must publicly lift up his hand and lie, lie when taking an oath, by expressing in words respect for what he does not respect ; or (in our own case) if, in order to pass programmes however Liberal, it is necessary to take part in public worship, to be sworn, to wear a uniform, to write mendacious and flattering petitions, and to make speeches of a similar character, etc., etc. — then, by doiny these things A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 201 and foregoing our dignity as men, we lose much more than we gain, and by trying to reach one definite aim (which very often is not reached) we deprive ourselves of the possibility of reaching other aims which are of supreme importance. Only people who have something which they will on no account and under no circum- stances yield can resist a Government and curb it. To have power to resist, you must stand on firm ground. And the Government knows this very well, and is, above all else, concerned to worm out of men that which will not yield — namely, their dignity as men. When that is wormed out of them, the Government calmly proceeds to do what it likes, knowing that it will no longer meet any real resistance. A man who consents publicly to swear, pronouncing the degrading and mendacious words of the oath ; or submissively to wait several hours, dressed up in a uniform, at a Minister's reception ; or to inscribe himself as a Special Constable for the Coronation ; or to fast and receive Communion for respectability's sake ; or to ask the Head-Censor whether he may, or may not, express such and such thoughts, etc. — such a man is no longer feared by Government. Alexander II. said he did not fear the Liberals, because he knew they could all be bought — if not with money, then with honours. People who take part in Government, or work under its direction, may deceive themselves or their sympa- thizers by making a show of struggling ; but those against whom. they struggle (the Government) know quite well, by the strength of the resistance experi- enced, that these people are not really pulling, but are only pretending to. Our Government knows this with respect to the Liberals, and constantly tests the quality of the opposition, and finding that genuine resistance is practically non-existent, it continues its course in full assurance that it can do what it likes with such opponents. The Government of Alexander III. knew this very 202 ESSAYS AND LETTERS well, and, knowing it, deliberately destroyed all that the Liberals thought they had achieved, and were so proud of. It altered and limited Trial by Jury ; it abolished the office of Judge of the Peace ; it cancelled the rights of the Universities ; it perverted the whole system of instruction in the High Schools ; it re-estab- lished the Cadet Corps, and even the State-sale of intoxicants ; it established the Zemsky Natchdlniks ; it legalized flogging ; it almost abolished the Local Government ; it gave uncontrolled power to the Governors of Provinces ; it encouraged the quartering of troops on the peasants in punishment ; it increased the practice of ' administrative ** banishment and im- prisonment, and the capital punishment of political offenders ; it renewed religious persecutions ; it brought to a climax the use of barbarous superstitions ; it legalized murder in duels ; under the name of a ' State of Siege *t it established lawlessness with capital punishment as a normal condition of things — and in all this it met with no protest except from one honour- able woman,J who boldly told the Government the truth' as she saw it. The Liberals whispered among themselves that these things displeased them, but they continued to take part * Sentenced by Administrative Order means sentenced by the arbitrary will of the Government, or by the Chief of the Gendarmes of a Province. Administrative sentences are often inflicted without the victim being heard in his own defence, or even knowing what he is punished for. t The ' Statute of Increased Protection,' usually trans- lated 'State of Siege,' was first applied to Petersburg and Moscow only, but was subsequently extended to Odessa, Kief, Kharkof, and Warsaw. Under\ this law, practically absolute power, including that of capital punishment, was entrusted to the Governors -General of the Provinces in question. % Madame Tsebrikof, a well-known writer and literary critic, wrote a polite but honest letter to Alexander III., pointing out what was being done by the Government. She was banished to a distant province. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 203 in legal proceedings, and in the Local Governments, and in the Universities, and in Government service, and on the Press. In the Press they hinted at what they were allowed to hint at, and kept silence on matters they had to be silent about, but they printed whatever they were told to print. So that every reader (not privy to the whisperings of the editorial rooms), on re- ceiving a Liberal paper or magazine, read the announce- ment of the most cruel and irrational measures unaccom- panied by comment or sign of disapproval, together with sycophantic and flattering addresses to those guilty of enacting these measures, and frequently even praise of the measures themselves. Thus all the dismal activity of the Government of Alexander III. — destroy- ing whatever good had begun to take root in the days of Alexander II., and striving to turn Russia back to the barbarity of the commencement of this century — all this dismal activity of gallows, rods, persecutions, and stupefaction of the people, has become (even in the Liberal papers and magazines) the basis of an insane laudation of Alexander III. and of his acclamation as a great man and a model of human dignity. This same thing is being continued in the new reign. The young man who succeeded the late Tsar, having no understanding of life, was assured by the men in power, to whom it was profitable to say so, that the best way to rule a hundred million people is to do as his father did — that is, not to ask advice from anyone, but to do just what comes into his head, or what the first flatterer about him advises. And, fancying that unlimited auto- cracy is a sacred life-principle of the Russian people, the young man begins to reign ; and instead of asking the representatives of the Russian people to help him with their advice in the task of ruling (about which he, educated in a cavalry regiment, knows nothing and can know nothing), he rudely and insolently shouts at those representatives of the Russian people who visit him with congratulations, and he calls the desire, 204 ESSAYS AND LETTERS timidly expressed by some of them,* to be allowed to inform the authorities of their needs, 'insensate dreams.' And what followed ? Was Russian society shocked ? Did enlightened and honest people — the Liberals — express their indignation and repulsion ? Did they at least refrain from laudation of this Government, and from participating in it and encouraging it ? Not at all. From that time a specially intense competition in adulation commenced, both of the father and of the son who imitated him. And not a protesting voice was heard, except in one anonymous letter, cautiously expressing disapproval of the young Tsar's conduct. From all sides fulsome and flattering addresses were brought to the Tsar, as well as (for some reason or other) iconsf which nobody wanted and which serve merely as objects of idolatry to benighted people. An insane expenditure of money : a Coronation amazing in its absurdity, was arranged ; the arrogance of the rulers and their contempt of the people caused thousands to perish in a fearful calamity — which was regarded as a slight eclipse of the festivities, which did not termi- nate on that account. | An exhibition § was organized, which no one wanted except those who organized it, and which cost millions of roubles. In the Chancellery of the Holy Synod, with unparalleled effrontery, a new * By the representatives of the Local Government of Tver and others, at a reception in the Winter Palace on the accession of Nicholas II. f Ic6ns are conventional paintings of God, Jesus, angels, saints, the 'Mother of God,' etc., usually ;done on bits of wood, with much gilding. They are hung up in the corners of the rooms, as well as in churches, etc., to be prayed to. t As part of the Coronation festivities, a ' People's Fete' was arranged to take place on the Hodinskoe Field, near Moscow. Owing to bad arrangements, some 3,000 people were killed when trying to enter the grounds, and many others were injured. This occurred on Saturday, May IS, o.s., 1896. That same evening the Emperor danced at the grand ball given by the French Ambassador in Moscow. § The unsuccessful Exhibition at Nizhni Novgorod in 1896. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 205 and supremely stupid means of mystifying people was devised — namely, the enshrinement of the incorruptible body of a Saint whom nobody knew anything" about.* The stringency of the Censor was increased. Religious persecution was made more severe. The State of Siege (i.e., the legalization of lawlessness) was continued, and the state of things is still becoming worse and worse. And I think that all this would not have happened if those enlightened, honest people who are now occupied in Liberal activity on the basis of legality, in Local Governments, in the Committees, in Censor-ruled literature, etc., had not devoted their energies to the task of circumventing the Government and — without abandoning the forms it has itself arranged — of finding ways to make it act so as to harm and injure itself :t but, abstaining from taking any part in Government or in any business bound up with Government, had merely claimed their rights as men. * You wish, instead of Judges of the Peace, to insti- tute Zemsky Natchdlniks with birch-rods : that is your business, but we will not go to law before your Zemsky Natchdlniks, and will not ourselves accept appointment to such an office. You wish to make trial by jury a mere formality : that is your business, but we will not serve as judges, or as advocates, or as jurymen. You wish, under the name of a " State of Siege," to establish despotism : that is your business, but we will not partici- pate in it, and will plainly call the " State of Siege " * The ' incorruptible ' body of St. Theodosius was exhi- bited to the people and to the pilgrims who assembled from all parts of Russia, and was then enshrined with great pomp in the Cathedral of Tchernigof in 1896. These relics performed miracles, which were fully reported in the official papers, and no papers ventured to express any doubts as to the genuine nature of these occurrences. + Sometimes it seems to me simply laughable that people can occupy themselves with such an evidently hopeless business ; it is like undertaking to cut off an animal's leg without letting it notice it. — L. T. 206 ESSAYS AND LETTERS despotism, and capital punishment inflicted without trial— murder. You wish to organize Cadet Corps, or Classical High Schools in which military exercises and the Orthodox Faith are taught : that is your affair, but we will not teach in such schools, nor send our children to them, but will educate our children as seems to us right. You decide to reduce the Local Governments to impotence : we will not take part in them. You prohibit the publication of literature that displeases you : you may seize books and punish the printers, but you cannot prevent our speaking and writing, and we shall continue to do so. You demand an oath of allegiance to the Tsar : we will not accede to what is so stupid, false, and degrading. You order us to serve in the army : we will not do so, because wholesale murder is as opposed to our conscience as individual murder, and, above all, because to promise to murder whomsoever a commander may tell us to murder is the meanest act a man can commit. You profess a religion which is a thousand years behind the times, with an " Iberian Mother of God ''* relics, and coronations : that is your affair, but we do not acknowledge idolatry and superstition to be religion, but call them idolatry and superstition, and we try to free people from them.' And what can the Government do against such activity ? It can banish or imprison a man for prepar- ing a bomb, or even for printing a proclamation to working men ; it can transfer your Literature Com- mittee from one Ministry to another, or close a Parlia- ment ; but what can a Government do with a man who is not willing publicly to lie with uplifted hand, or who is not willing to send his children to an establishment which he considers bad, or who is not willing to learn to kill people, or is not willing to take part in idolatr)', or is not willing to take part in coronations, deputa- * ' The Iberian Mother of God ' in Moscow is a wonder- working icon of the Virgin Mary, which draws a large revenue. It is frequently taken to visit the sick, and travels about with six horses ; the attendant priest sits in the carriage bareheaded. A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 207 tions and addresses, or who says and writes what he thinks and feels ? By prosecuting such a man the Government secures for him general sympathy, making him a martyr, and it undermines the foundations on which it is itself built, for, in so acting, instead of protecting human rights it itself infringes them. And it is only necessary for all those good, enlight- ened, and honest people whose strength is now wasted in Revolutionary, Socialistic, or Liberal activity (harm- ful to themselves and to their cause) to begin to act thus, and a nucleus of honest, enlightened, and moral people would form around them, united in the same thoughts and the same feelings. And to this nucleus the ever-wavering crowd of average people would at once gravitate, and public opinion — the only power which subdues Governments — would become evident, demanding freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, justice and humanity. And as soon as public opinion was formulated, not only would it be impossible to suppress the Literature Committee, but all those in- human organizations — the ( State of Siege,' the Secret Police, the Censor, Schliisselburg,* the Holy Synod, and the rest — against which the Revolutionists and the Liberals are now struggling, would disappear of themselves. So that two methods of opposing the Government have been tried, both unsuccessfully, and it now remains to try a third and last method, one not yet tried, but one which, I think, cannot but be successful. Briefly, it is this : That all enlightened and honest people should try to be as good as they can ; and not even good in all respects but only in one, namely, in observing one of the most elementary virtues — to be honest and not to lie, but so to act and speak that your motives should be intelligible to an affectionate seven- year-old boy ; to act so that your boy should not say : ( But why, papa, did you say so-and-so, and now you do and say something quite different ?' This method * The most terrible of the places of imprisonment in Petersburg. 208 ESSAYS AND LETTERS seems very weak, and yet I am convinced that it is this method, and this method alone, that has moved humanity since the race began. Only because there were straight men — truthful and courageous, who made no concessions that infringed their dignity as men — have all those beneficent revolutions been accomplished of which mankind now has the advantage — from the abolition of torture and slavery up to liberty of speech and of conscience. Nor can this be otherwise, for what is demanded by conscience (the highest fore- feeling man possesses of the truth to which he can attain) is always and in all respects the thing most fruitful and most necessary for humanity at the given time. Only a man who lives according to his con- science can exert influence on people, and only activity that accords with one's conscience can be useful. But I must make my meaning quite plain. To say that the most effectual means of achieving the ends towards which Revolutionists and Liberals are striving is by activity in accord with their consciences, does not mean that people can begin to live conscientiously in order to achieve those ends. To begin to live conscientiously on purpose to achieve external ends is impossible. To live according to one's conscience is possible only as a result of firm and clear religious convictions ; the beneficent result of these on our external life will inevitably follow. Therefore the gist of what I wished to say to you is this : That it is unprofitable for good, sincere people to spend their powers of mind and soul on gaining small practical ends — for instance, in the various struggles of nationalities, or parties, or in Liberal wire-pulling — while they have not reached a clear and firm religious perception, that is, a conscious- ness of the meaning and purpose of life. I think that all the powers of soul and mind of good men, who wish to be of service to humanity, should be directed to that end. When that is accomplished all else will also be accomplished. Forgive me for sending you so long a letter, which A LETTER TO RUSSIAN LIBERALS 209 perhaps you did not at all need, but I have long wished to express my views on this question. I even began a long article about it, but I shall hardly have time to finish it before death comes, and therefore I wished to get at least part of it said. Forgive me if I am in error about anything. [August 31, o.s., 1896.] XV TIMOTHY BONDAREF How strange and odd it would have seemed to the educated Romans of the middle of the first century, had anyone told them that the obscure, confused, and often unintelligible letters addressed by a wandering Jew to his friends and pupils would have a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand times more readers, more circulation, and more influence over people, than all the poems, odes, elegies, and elegant epistles of the authors of that age ! And yet that is what has happened. Equally strange and odd must my assertion seem to people to-day, that Bdndaref 's work — at the naivete of which we condescendingly smile from the height of our mental grandeur — will survive all the other works described in this Dictionary, and have more effect on people than all the other books mentioned in it put to- gether. And yet I am convinced that such will be the case. And the reason of my conviction is, that just as there are an innumerable quantity of false paths that lead nowhere and are therefore unnecessary, but only one true path that leads us to our aim and is therefore necessary, so also there are an innumerable quantity of false, unnecessary thoughts, but only one true and needful thought, or, rather, direction of thought ; and that true and needful direction of thought in our time has been expressed by Bondaref in his book, with a force, clearness and conviction with which no one else has expressed it. Therefore, the many works that now seem so important and necessary may vanish completely [ 210 ] TIMOTHY BONDAREF 211 and be forgotten ; but what Bondaref has said, and that to which he has called men, will not be forgotten — for life itself will bring men more and more to see the force of his statements. All discoveries of truth, whether in science (abstract or applied), in philosophy, in morals, or in economics, are reached by people going round the new truths in ever-narrowing circles, drawing nearer and nearer to them, and sometimes slightly touching them, until some bold, free, and gifted man seizes the very centre of the new truth, and places it on a height where it is visible to all. This is just what Bondaref has done for the moral-economic truth which was awaiting discovery and elucidation in our time. Many have said, and are saying, the same thing. Some consider physical labour necessary for health ; others consider it essential for a just economic order ; a third group show its necessity for the normal, all-round development of man's capaci- ties; while a fourth group considers it essential for man's moral progress. Thus, for instance, Ruskin — one of the greatest English writers, and one of the greatest authors of our age (almost as little esteemed as our own Bondaref by the cultured crowd of to-day) — notwithstanding the fact that he is a most highly educated and refined man (i.e., notwithstanding the fact that he stands at the opposite pole of society from Bondaref), in Letter 67 of his Fors Olavigera, says : — 6 It is physically impossible that true religious knowledge, or pure morality, should exist among any classes of a nation who do not work with their hands for their bread. ' Many go round this truth and express it (as Ruskin does) with various reservations, but no one else has done what Bondaref does in acknowledging bread- labour to be the fundamental religious law of life. And he has not done this, as it pleases people to sup- pose, because he is an ignorant and foolish man who does not know all that we know ; but he has done it because he is a man of genius, who knows that truth is only then the truth, when it is expressed, not with o 2 212 ESSAYS AND LETTERS limitations, reservations and retrenchments, but when it is expressed fully. As the truth that the sum of the angles in a right-angled triangle is equal to two right angles, loses all meaning and importance if it is ex- pressed thus : that the sum of the angles in the triangle will be approximately equal to two right angles — so also the truth that a man ought to work with his hands, if expressed in the form of advice, or of an expression of its desirability, or of an assertion that perhaps it may be useful from certain points of view, etc., loses all its meaning and importance. This truth has mean- ing and importance only when it is expressed as an absolute law, the infringement of which involves in- evitable ills and sufferings, and the observance of which is demanded of us by God, or by reason — as Bdndaref expresses it. Bdndaref does not demand that every man should absolutely put on peasant's shoes and follow the plough, though he says that that would be desirable and would liberate people sunk in luxury from the delusions that torment them (really, nothing but good would come from exact obedience even to that demand) ; but Bdndaref says that every man should consider the duty of physical labour — of direct partici- pation in those labours of which he enjoys the fruits — as his first, chief, and indubitably sacred obligation, and that people should be brought up to recognise that duty. And I cannot conceive how any honest and thoughtful person can disagree with that opinion. [1897.] The above article was contributed to Venge>of s Biographi- cal Dictionary of Russian Writers. Concerning Bdndaref, see foot-note, p. 1, of this volume. XVI LETTERS ON HENRY GEORGE To T. M. Bondaref who had written from Siberia asking for information about the Single-Tax, This is Henry George's plan : The advantage and convenience of using land is not everywhere the same ; there will always be many appli- cants for land that is fertile, well situated, or near a populous place ; and the better and more profitable the land, the more people will wish to have it. All such land should, therefore, be valued according to its advantages : the more profitable — dearer ; the less profitable — cheaper. Land for which there are few applicants should not be valued at all, but allotted gratuitously to those who wish to work it themselves. With such a valuation of the land — here in the Toula Government, for instance, — good arable land might be estimated at about 5 or 6 roubles* the desyatina ;t kitchen-gardens in the villages, at about 10 roubles the desyatina ; meadows that are fertilized by spring floods at about 15 roubles, and so on. In towns the valuation would be 100 to 500 roubles the desyatina, and in crowded parts of Moscow or Petersburg, or at the landing-places of navigable rivers, it would amount to several thousands or even tens of thousands of roubles the desyatina. * The rouble is a little more than 25 pence, t The desyatina is nearly 2| acres. [213 ] 214 ESSAYS AND LETTERS When all the land in the country has been valued in this way, Henry George proposes that a law should be made by which, after a certain date in a certain year, the land should no longer belong to any one individual, but to the whole nation — the whole people ; and that everyone holding land should, therefore, pay to the nation (that is, to the whole people) the yearly value at which it has been assessed. This payment should be used to meet all public or national expenses, and should replace all other rates, taxes, or customs dues. The result of this would be that a landed proprietor who now holds, say, 2,000 desyatina, might continue to hold them if he liked, but he would have to pay to the treasury — here in the Toula Government, for instance (as his holding would include both meadow- land and homestead) — 12,000 or 15,000 roubles a year; and, as no large land-owners could stand such a pay- ment, they would all abandon their land. But it would mean that a Toula peasant, in the same district, would pay a couple of roubles per desyatina less than he pa^s now, and could have plenty of available land near by, which he would take up at 5 or 6 roubles per desyatina. Besides, he would have no other rates or taxes to pay, and would be able to buy all the things he requires, foreign or Russian, free of duty. In towns, the owners of houses and manufactories might continue to own them, but would have to pay to the public treasury the amount of the assessment on their land. The advantages of such an arrangement would be : 1. That no one will be unable to get land for use. 2. That there will be no idle people owning land and making others work for them in return for per- mission to use that land. 3. That the land will be in the possession of those who use it, and not of those who do not use it. 4. That as the land will be available for people who wish to work on it, they will cease to enslave them- selves as hands in factories and works, or as servants in towns, and will settle in the country districts. LETTERS ON HENRY GEORGE 215 5. That there will be no more inspectors and collec- tors of taxes in mills, factories, refineries and work- shops, but there will only be collectors of the tax on land which cannot be stolen, and from which a tax can be most easily collected. 6 (and chiefly). That the non-workers will be saved from the sin of exploiting other people's labour (in doing which they are often not the guilty parties, for they have from childhood been educated in idleness, and do not know how to work), and from the yet greater sin of all kinds of shuffling and lying to justify themselves in commiting that sin ; and the workers will be saved from the temptation and sin of envying, condemning and being exasperated with the non-workers, so that one cause of separation among men will be destroyed. To a German Propagandist of Henry George's Views. It is with particular pleasure that I hasten to answer your letter, and say that I have known of Henry George since the appearance of his Social Problems. I read that book and was struck by the justice of his main thought — by the exceptional manner (unparalleled in scientific literature), clear, popular and forcible, in which he stated his cause — and especially by (what is also exceptional in scientific literature) the Christian spirit that permeates the whole work. After reading it I went back to his earlier Progress and Poverty, and still more deeply appreciated the importance of its author's activity. You ask what I think of Henry George's activity, and of his Single-Tax system. My opinion is the following : Humanity constantly advances: on the one hand clear- ing its consciousness and conscience, and on the other hand rearranging its modes of life to suit this changing consciousness. Thus, at each period of the life of humanity, the double process goes on : the clearing up 216 ESSAYS AND LETTERS of conscience, and the incorporation into life of what has been made clear to conscience. At the end of the eighteenth century and the com- mencement of the nineteenth, a clearing up of con- science took place in Christendom with reference to the labouring classes — who lived under various forms of slavery — and this was followed by a corresponding read- justment of the forms of social life, to suit this clearer consciousness : namely, the abolition of slavery, and the organization of free wage-labour in its place. At the present time an enlightenment of men's consciences is going on in relation to the way land is used ; and soon, it seems to me, a practical application of this new consciousness must follow. And in this process (the enlightenment of conscience as to the utilization of land, and the practical applica- tion of that new consciousness), which is one of the chief problems of our time, the leader and organizer of the movement was and is Henry George. In this lies his immense, his pre-eminent, importance. He has helped ]>y his excellent books, both to clear men's minds and consciences on this question, and to place it on a practical footing. But in relation to the abolition of the shameful right to own landed estates, something is occurring similar to what happened (within our own recollection) with refer- ence to the abolition of serfdom. The Government and the governing classes — knowing that their position and privileges are bound up with the land question — pretend that they are preoccupied with the welfare of the people, organizing savings banks for workmen, factory inspec- tion, income taxes, even eight-hours working days — and carefully ignore the land question, or even, aided by compliant science, which will demonstrate anything they like, declare that the expropriation of the land is useless, harmful, and impossible. Just the same thing occurs, as occurred in connection with slavery. At the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries, men had long felt that slavery was a terrible anachronism, revolting LETTERS ON HENRY GEORGE 217 to the human soul ; but pseudo-religion and pseudo- science demonstrated that slavery was not wrong, that it was necessary, or at least that it was premature to abolish it. The same thing is now being repeated with reference to landed property. As before, pseudo- religion and pseudo-science demonstrate that there is nothing wrong in the private ownership of landed estates, and that there is no need to abolish the present system. One would think it would be plain to every educated man of our time that an exclusive control of land by people who do not work on it, but who prevent hundreds and thousands of poor families from using it, is a thing as plainly bad and shameful as it was to own slaves ; yet we see educated, refined aristocrats — English, Austrian, Prussian, and Russian — making use of this cruel and shameful right, and not only not feeling ashamed, but feeling proud of it. Religion blesses such possessions, and the science of political economy demonstrates that the present state of things is the one that should exist for the greatest benefit of mankind. The service rendered by Henry George is, that he has not only mastered "the sophistries with which religion and science try to justify private ownership of land, and simplified the question to the uttermost, so that it is impossible not to admit the wrongfulness of land-ownership — unless one simply stops one's ears — but he was also the first to show how the question can be practically solved. He first gave a clear and direct reply to the excuses, used by the enemies of every reform, to the effect that the demands of progress are unpractical and inapplicable dreams. Henry George's plan destroys that excuse, by putting the question in such a form that a committee might be assembled to-morrow to discuss the project and to convert it into law. In Russia, for instance, the dis- cussion of land purchase, or of nationalizing the land without compensation, could begin to-morrow ; and the project might — after undergoing various vicissitudes — 218 ESSAYS AND LETTERS be carried into operation, as occurred thirty-three years ago* with the project for the emancipation of the serfs. The need of altering the present system has been explained, and the possibility of the change has been shown (there may be alterations and amendments of the Single-Tax system, but its fundamental idea is practicable) ; and, therefore, it will be impossible for people not to do what their reason demands. It is only necessary that this thought should become public opinion ; and in order that it may become public opinion it must be spread abroad and explained — which is just what you are doing, and is a work with which I sympathize with my whole soul, and in which I wish you success. [1897.] * The Emancipation of the Serfs in Russia was decreed in 1861, and was accomplished during the following few years. , XVII MODERN SCIENCE* TcavTi \6ytp Xoyoc "hjoq dvrucBiTal.jf I think this article of Carpenter's on Modern Science should be particularly useful in Russian society, in which, more than in any other in Europe, a supersti- tion is prevalent and deeply rooted which considers that humanity for its welfare does not need the diffusion of true religious and moral knowledge, but only the study of experimental science, and that such science will satisfy all the spiritual demands of mankind. It is evident how harmful an influence (quite like that of religious superstition) so gross a superstition must have on men's moral life. And, therefore, the publication of the thoughts of writers who treat experi- mental science and its method critically is specially desirable in our society. Carpenter shows that neither Astronomy, nor Physics, nor Chemistry, nor Biology, nor Sociology, supplies us with true knowledge of actual facts ; that all the laws discovered by those sciences are merely generalizations, having but an approximate value as laws, and that only as long as we do not know, or leave * "Written as preface to a Russian translation, by Count Sergius Tolstoy, of Edward Carpenter's essay, Modem Science : a Criticism, which forms part of the volume Civilization: its Cause and Cure, published by Swan Sonnenschein and Co. , London. f To every argument an equal argument is matched. [ 219 ] 220 ESSAYS AND LETTERS out of account, certain other factors ; and that even these laws seem laws to us only because we discover them in a region so far away from us in time and space that we cannot detect their non-correspondence with actual fact. Moreover, Carpenter points out that the method of science, which consists in explaining things near and important to us by things more remote and indifferent, is a false method which can never bring us to the desired result. He says that every science tries to explain the facts it is investigating by means of conceptions of a lower order. 'Each science has been (as far as possible) reduced to its lowest terms. Ethics has been made a question of utility and inherited experience. Politi- cal Economy has been exhausted of all concep- tions of justice between man and man, of charity, affection, and the instinct of solidarity, and has been founded on its lowest discoverable factor, namely, self- interest. Biology has been denuded of the force of personality in plants, animals, and men ; the c self ' here has been set aside, and the attempt made to reduce the science to a question of chemical and cellular affinities, protoplasm, and the laws of osmose. Chemical affinities, again, and all thewonderful pheno- mena of Physics are emptied down into a flight of atoms ; and the flight of atoms (and of astronomic orbs as well) is reduced to the laws of dynamics.' It is supposed that the reduction of questions of a higher order to questions of a lower order will explain the former. But an explanation is never obtained in this way, and what happens is merely that, descending in one's investigations ever lower and lower, from the most important questions to less important ones, science reaches at last a sphere quite foreign to man, with which he is barely in touch, and confines its attention to that sphere, leaving all unsolved the questions most important to him. What takes place is as if a man, wishing to under- MODERN SCIENCE 221 stand the use of an object lying before him — instead of coming close to it, examining it from all sides and handling it — were to retire further and further from it, until he was at such a distance from the object that all its peculiarities of colour and inequalities of surface had disappeared, and only its outline was still visible against the horizon ; and as if, from there, he were to begin writing a minute description of the object, imagining that now, at last, he clearly understood it, and that this understanding, formed at such a distance, would assist a complete comprehension of it. And it is this self-deception that is partly exposed by Carpenter's criticism, which shows, first, that the knowledge afforded us by the natural sciences amounts merely to convenient generalizations, which certainly do not express actual facts ; and, secondly, that the method of science by which facts of a higher order are reduced to facts of a lower order, will never furnish us with an explanation of the former. But without predetermining the question whether experimental science will, or will not, by its methods, ever bring us to the solution of the most serious problems of human life, the activity of experimental science itself, in its relation to the eternal and most reasonable demands of man, is so anomalous as to amaze one. People must live. But in order to live they must know how to live. And all men always obtained this knowledge — well or ill — and in conformity with it have lived, and progressed ; and this knowledge of how men should live has from the days of Moses, Solon, and Confucius been always considered a science — the very essence of science. And only in our time has it come to be considered that the science telling us how to live, is not a science at all, but that only experimental science — commencing with Mathematics and ending in Sociology — is real science. And a strange misunderstanding results. A plain, reasonable working man supposes, in the old way which is also the common-sense way, that if there 222 ESSAYS AND LETTERS are people who spend their lives in study, whom he feeds and keeps while they think for him — then no doubt these men are engaged in studying things men need to know ; and he expects of science that it will solve for him the 'questions on which his welfare, and that of all men, depends. He expects science to tell him how he ought to live : how to treat his family, his neighbours and the men of other tribes, how to re- strain his passions, what to believe in and what not to believe in, and much else. And what does our science say to him on these matters ? It triumphantly tells him : how many million miles it is from the earth to the sun ; at what rate light travels through space ; how many million vibrations of ether per second are caused by light, and how many vibrations of air by sound ; it tells of the chemical components of the Milky Way, of a new element — helium — of micro-organisms and their excrements, of the points on the hand at which electricity collects, of X rays, and similar things. c Biit I don't want any of those things/ says a plain and reasonable man — e I want to know how to live/ 4 What does it matter what you want ?' replies science. ' What you are asking about relates to Sociology. Be- fore replying to sociological questions, we have yet to solve questions of Zoology, Botany, Physiology, and, in general, of Biology ; but to solve those questions we have first to solve questions of Physics, and then of Chemistry, and have also to agree as to the shape of the infinitesimal atoms, and how it is that imponderable and incompressible ether transmits energy/ And people — chiefly those who sit on the backs of others, and to whom it is therefore convenient to wait — are content with such replies, and sit blinking, await- ing the fulfilment of these promises ; but a plain and reasonable working man — such as those on whose backs these others sit while occupying themselves with science —the whole great mass of men, the whole of humanity, cannot be satisfied by such answers, but naturally ask MODERN SCIENCE 223 in perplexity : ' But when will this be done ? We can- not wait. You say yourselves that you will discover these things after some generations. But we are alive now — alive to-day and dead to-morrow — and we want to know how to live our life while we have it. So teach us P 6 What a stupid and uneducated man P replies science. < He does not understand that science exists not for use, but for science. Science studies whatever presents itself for study, and cannot select the subjects to be studied. Science studies everything. That is the characteristic of science/ And scientists are really convinced that to be occu- pied with trifles, while neglecting what is more essential and important, is a characteristic not of themselves, but of science. The plain, reasonable man, however, be- gins to suspect that this characteristic pertains not to science, but to men who are inclined to occupy them- selves with trifles and to attach great importance to those trifles. ( Science studies everything? say the scientists. But, really, everything is too much. Everything is an infinite quantity of objects ; it is impossible at one and the same time to study all. As a lantern cannot light up everything, but only lights up the place on which it is turned or the direction in which the man carrying it is walking, so also science cannot study everything, but inevitably only studies that to which its attention is directed. And as a lantern lights up most strongly the place nearest to it, and less and less strongly objects that are more and more remote from it, and does not at all light up those things its light does not reach, so also human science, of whatever kind, has always studied and still studies most carefully what seems most important to the investigators, less carefully what seems to them less important, and quite neglects the whole remaining infinite quantity of objects. And what for men has defined and still defines the subjects they are to consider most important, less important, 224 ESSAYS AND LETTERS and unimportant, is the general understanding of the meaning and purpose of life (that is to say, the religion) possessed by those who occupy themselves with science. 13ut men of science to-day — not acknowledging any religion, and having therefore no standard by which to choose the subjects most important for study, or to discriminate them from less important subjects and, ultimately, from that infinite quantity of objects which the limitations of the human mind, and the infinity of the number of those objects, will always cause to remain uninvestigated — have formed for themselves a theory of c science for science's sake/ according to which science is to study not what mankind needs, but everything. And, indeed, experimental science studies every- thing, not in the sense of the totality of objects, but in the sense of disorder — chaos in the arrangement of the objects studied. That is to say, science does not devote most attention to what people most need, less to what they, need less, and none at all to what is quite useless, but it studies anything that happens to come to hand. Though Comtek and other classifications of the sciences exist, these classifications do not govern the selection of subjects for study, but that selection is dependent on the human weaknesses common to men of science as well as to the rest of mankind. So that, in reality, scientists study not everything, as they imagine and de- clare, but they study what is more profitable and easier to study. And it is more profitable to study things that conduce to the well-being of the upper classes, with whom the men of science are connected ; and it is easier to study things that lack life. Accordingly, many men of science study books, monuments, and inanimate bodies. Such study is considered the most real ( science.' So that in our day what is considered to be the most real ( science/ the only one (as the Bible was considered the only book worthy of the name), is, not the con- templation and investigation of how to make the life of MODERN SCIENCE 225 man more kindly and more happy, but the compilation and copying from many books into one of all that our predecessors wrote on a certain subject, the pouring of liquids out of one glass bottle into another, the skilful slicing of microscopic preparations, the cultivation of bacteria, the cutting up of frogs and dogs, the investi- gation of X rays, the theory of numbers, the chemical composition of the stars, etc. Meanwhile all those sciences which aim at making human life kindlier and happier — religious, moral, and social science — are considered by the dominant science to be unscientific, and are abandoned to the theologians, philosophers, jurists, historians, and political econo- mists ; who, under the guise of scientific investigation, are chiefly occupied in demonstrating that the existing order of society (the advantages of which they enjoy) is the very one which ought to exist, and that, there- fore, it must not only not be changed, but must be maintained by all means. Not to mention Theology and Jurisprudence, Political Economy, the most advanced of the sciences of this group, is remarkable in this respect. The most prevalent Political Economy (that of Karl Marx),* accepting the existing order of life as though it were what it ought to be, not only does not call on men to alter that order — that is to say, does not point out to them how they ought to live that their condition may improve — but, on the contrary, it demands an increase in the cruelty of the existing order of things, that its more-than-questionable predictions may be fulfilled, concerning what will happen if people continue to live as badly as they are now living. And, as always occurs, the lower a human activity descends — the more widely it diverges from what it should be — the more its self-confidence increases. That * In Russia the rigid theories of Karl Marx, and the German type of Social Democracy, have had, and still have, more vogue than in England. p 226 ESSAYS AND LETTERS is just what has happened with the science of to-day. True science is never appreciated by its contemporaries;, but on the contrary is usually persecuted. Nor can this be otherwise. True science shows men their mis- takes, and points to new, unaccustomed ways of life. And both these services are unpleasant to the ruling section of society. But present-day science not only does not run counter to the tastes and demands of the ruling section of society, but it quite complies with them : it satisfies idle curiosity, excites people's wonder, and promises them increase of pleasure. And so, whereas all that is truly great is calm, modest and unnoticed, the science of to-day knows no limits to its self-laudation. 6 All former methods were erroneous, and all that used to be considered science was an imposture, a blunder, and of no account. Only our method is true, and the only true science is ours. The success of our science is such that thousands of years have not done what we have accomplished in the last century. In the future, travelling the same path, our science will solve all questions, and make all mankind happy. Our science is the most important activity in the world, and we, men of science, are the most important and neces- sary people in the world/ So think and say the scientists of to-day, and the cultured crowd echo it, but really at no previous time and among no people has science — the whole of science with all its knowledge — stood on so low a level as at present. One part of it, which should study the things that make human life kind and happy, is occupied in justifying the existing evil order of society ; another part is engaged in solving questions of idle curiosity. ( What? — Idle curiosity r I hear voices ask in indig- nation at such blasphemy. ' What about steam, and electricity, and telephones, and all our technical improvements ? Not to speak of their scientific impor- tance, see what practical results they have produced ! Man has conquered Nature and subjugated its forces ' . . . with more to the same effect. MODERN SCIENCE 227 'But all the practical results of the victories over Nature have till now — for a considerable time past — gone to factories that injure the workmen's health ; have produced weapons to kill men with, and increased luxury and corruption' — replies a plain, reasonable man — * and, therefore, the victory of man over Nature has not only failed to increase the welfare of human beings, but has, on the contrary, made their condition worse.' If the arrangement of society is bad (as ours is), and a small number of people have power over the majority and oppress it, every victory over Nature will inevitably only serve to increase that power and that oppression. That is what is actually happening. With a science which aims not at studying how people ought to live, but at studying whatever exists — and which is therefore occupied chiefly in investigating inanimate things while allowing the order of human society to remain as it is — no improvements, no victories over Nature, can better the state of humanity. 1 But medical science ? You are forgetting the bene- ficent progress made by medicine. And bacteriological inoculations? And recent surgical operations?' ex- claim the defenders of science, — adducing as a last resource the success of medical science to prove the utility of all science. ' By inoculations we can prevent illness, or can cure it ; we can perform painless opera- tions : cut open a man's inside and clean it out, and can straighten hunched-backs/ is what is usually said by the defenders of present-day science, who seem to think that the- curing of one child from diphtheria, among those Russian children of whom 50 per cent, (and even 80 per cent, in the Foundling Hospitals) die as a regular thing apart from diphtheria — must con- vince anyone of the beneficence of science in general. Our life is so arranged that from bad food, excessive and harmful work, bad dwellings and clothes, or from want, not children only, but a majority of people, dfe before they have lived half the years that should be p 2 228 ESSAYS AND LETTERS theirs. The order of things is such that children's ill- nesses, consumption, syphilis and alcoholism seize an ever-increasing number of victims, while a great part of men's labour is taken from them to prepare for wars, and every ten or twenty years millions of men are slaughtered in wars ; and all this because science, instead of supplying correct religious, moral and social ideas, which would cause these ills to disappear of themselves, is occupied on the one hand in justifying the existing order, and on the other hand — with toys. And, in proof of the fruitfulness of science, we are told that it cures one in a thousand of the sick, who are sick only because science has neglected its proper business. Yes, if science would devote but a small part of those efforts, and of that attention and labour which it now spends on trifles, to supplying men with correct re- ligious, moral, social, or even hygienic ideas, there would not be a one-hundredth part of the diphtheria, the diseases of the womb, or the deformities, the occa- sional cure of which now makes science so proud, thougli they are effected in clinical hospitals, the cost of whose luxurious appointments is too great for them to be at the service of all who need them. It is as though men who had ploughed badly, and sown badly with poor seeds, were to go over the ground tending some broken ears of corn and trampling on others that grew alongside, and should then exhibit their skill in healing the injured ears, as a proof of their knowledge of agriculture. Our science, in order to become science and to be really useful and not harmful to humanity, must first of all renounce its experimental method, which causes it to consider as its duty the study merely of what exists, and must return to the only reasonable and fruitful conception of science, which is, that the object of science is to show how people ought to live. Therein lies the aim and importance of science ; and the study of things as they exist can only be a subject for science in so far as that study co-operates towards the know- ledge of how men should live. MODERN SCIENCE 229 It is just to the admission of its bankruptcy by experi- mental science, and to the need of adopting another method, that Carpenter draws attention in this article. [1898.] Chapter xx. of What is Art? forms a companion article to the above essay. They were both written at the same period and deal with the same topic. XVIII LETTER TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER You are surprised that soldiers are taught that it is right to kill people in certain cases and in war, while in the books admitted to be holy by those who so teach , there is nothing like such a permission, but, on the contrary, not only is all murder forbidden but all in- sulting of others is forbidden also, and we are told not to do to others what we do not wish done to us. And you ask, Is there not some fraud in all this ? And if so, then for whose sake is it committed ? Yes, there is a fraud, committed for the sake of those accustomed to live on the sweat and blood of other men, and who therefore have perverted, and still per- vert, Christ's teaching, given to man for his good, but which has now, in its perverted form, become a chief source of human misery. The thing has come about in this way : The Government and all those of the upper classes near the Government who live by other people's work, need some means of dominating the workers, and find this means in the control of the army. Defence against foreign enemies is only an excuse. The German Government frightens its subjects about the Russians and the French ; the French Government frightens its people about the Germans ; the Russian Government frightens its people about the French and the Germans ; and that is the way with all Governments. But neither Germans nor Russians nor Frenchmen idesire to fight their neighbours or other people ; but, living in peace, they dread war more than anything [ 230 ] TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER 231 else in the world. The Government and the upper, governing classes, to excuse their domination of the labourers, behave like a gipsy who whips his horse before he turns a corner and then pretends he cannot lold it in. They stir up their own people and some foreign Government, and then pretend that for the well-being, or the defence, of their people they must declare war : which again brings profit only to generals, oficers, officials, merchants, and, in general, to the rith. In reality war is an inevitable result of the existence of armies ; and armies are only needed by Governments to dominate their own working classes. The thing is a crime, but the worst of it is that the Government, in order to have a plausible basis for its domination of the people, has to pretend that it holds the highest religious teaching known to man (the Christian), and that it brings up its subjects in this teaching. That teaching, however, is in its very nature opoosed not only to murder but to all violence, and therefore the Governments, in order to dominate the people and to be considered Christian, had to pervert Christianity and to hide its true meaning from the people, and thus deprive men of the well-being Christ offered them. This perversion was accomplished long ago, in the time of that scoundrel the Emperor Constantine, who fcr doing it was enrolled among the saints.* All sub- sequent Governments, especially our Russian Govern- ment, do their utmost to preserve this perverted understanding, and to prevent people from seeing the real meaning of Christianity ; because having once seen the real meaning of Christianity, the people would perceive that the Governments, with their taxes, soldiers, prisons, gallows, and false priests, are not only not the pillars of Christianity they profess to be, but are its greatest enemies. In consequence of this perversion, those frauds which * Constantine the Great was decreed to be a god by the Roman Senate, and was made a Christian saint by the Eastern Church. 232 ESSAYS AND LETTERS have surprised you are possible, and all those terrible misfortunes occur from which men suffer. The people are oppressed and robbed, and are poor, ignorant, dying of hunger. Why ? Because the land is in the hands of the rich ; and the people are en- slaved in mills and in factories, obliged to earn mone; because taxes are demanded from them, and the prica of their labour is diminished while the price of things they need is increased. How are they to escape ? By taking the land from tie rich ? But if this is done, soldiers will come, and will kill the rebels or put them in prison. Seize the mills and factories ? The same will happen. Organize aid maintain a strike? It is sure to fail. The rich will hold out longer than the workers, and the armies are always on the side of the capitalists. The people will never extricate themselves from the want in whfch they are kept as long as the army is in the hands of the governing classes. But who compose these armies that keep the peojle in this state of slavery ? Who are these soldiers tlat will fire at peasants who take the land, or at strikers who will not disperse, or at smugglers who bring in goods without paying taxes ? Who put in prison and guard there those who refuse to pay taxes ? The soldiers are these same peasants who are deprived of land, these same strikers who want better wages, these same tax- payers who want to be rid of these taxes. And why do these people shoot at their brothers ? Because it has been instilled into them that the oath they were obliged to take on entering the service is binding, and that though it is generally wrong to kill people, it is right to do so at the command of one's superiors. That is to say, the same fraud is played off upon them which has struck you. But here we meet the question, How is it that sensible people — often people who can read, and even educated people — believe such an evident lie ? However little education a man may have, he cannot but know that Christ did not sanction murder, but taught kindness, meekness, TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER 233 forgiveness of injuries, love of one's enemies ; and therefore he cannot help seeing that on the basis of Christian teaching he cannot pledge himself in advance to kill all whom he may be ordered to kill. The question is, How can sensible people believe — as all now serving in the army have believed and still believe — such an evident falsehood? The answer is that it is not this one fraud by itself that takes people in, but they have from childhood been deprived of the proper use of their reason by a whole series of decep- tions, a whole system of frauds, called the Orthodox Faith, which is nothing but the grossest idolatry. In this faith people are taught : that God is triple, that besides this triple God there is a Queen of Heaven,* and besides this Queen there are various saints whose corpses have not decayed, t and besides these saints there are icdnsj of the Gods and of the Queen of Heaven, to which one should offer candles and pray with one's hands ; and that the most important and holy thing on earth is the pap§ which the priest makes of wine and white bread on Sundays, behind a parti- tion ; and that after the priest has whispered over it, * The Holy Virgin, the ' Mother of God ' and ' Queen of Heaven,' plays a prominent part in the Orthodox Eastern Church. f One proof of holiness adduced as justifying admission to the rank of sainthood is the non- decomposition of the holy person's corpse. These miraculously preserved bodies are enshrined in chapels, monasteries and cathedrals, and are there visited by pilgrims, who offer up prayers at the shrine, place candles before it, and usually leave some contribution for the benefit of the establishment. X The icons of the Eastern Church are not 'graven images,' but are pictures painted in* a conventional cada- verous manner on wood ; these are often covered with an embossed metal cover allowing only the hands and face to be seen, and making the icon as much like an image as a picture. § The mixture of bread and wine administered by the priests of the Orthodox Eastern Church at the celebration of the Eucharist. 234 ESSAYS AND LETTERS the wine is no longer wine, and the white bread is not bread, but they are the blood and flesh of one of the triple Gods, etc. All this is so stupid and senseless that it is quite impossible to understand what it all means. And the very people who teach this faith do not ask you to understand it, but only tell you to believe it ; and people trained to believe these things from childhood can believe any kind of nonsense that is told them. And when men have been so befooled that they believe that God hangs in the corner,* or sits in a morsel of pap which the priest gives out in a spoon ; that to kiss a board or some relic and put candles in front of them, is useful for life here and hereafter — they are next called on to enter the military service, where they are humbugged to any extent ; being first made to swear on the Gospel (in which swearing is prohibited) that they will do just what is forbidden in those Gospels, and then taught that to kill people at the word of those in command is not a sin, but that to refuse to obey those in command is a sin. So that the fraud played off on soldiers when it is instilled into them that they may, without sin, kill people at the wish of those in command, is not an isolated fraud, but is bound up with a whole system of deception without which this one fraud would not deceive them. Only a man quite befooled by the false faith called Orthodoxy, palmed off upon him for true Christian faith, can believe that it is no sin for a Christian to enter the army, promising blindly to obey any man who ranks above him in the service, and, at the will of others, learning to kill, and committing that most terrible crime forbidden by all moral law. A man free from the pseudo-Christian faith that is called Orthodoxy, will not believe that. And that is why the so-called Sectarians — Christians * This refers to the common practice of hanging an ic6n in the corner of each dwelling-room. These icons are called ' g ids, ' and are prayed to in a way that often amounts to idolatry. TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER 235 who have repudiated the Orthodox teaching-, and ac- knowledge Christ's teaching as explained in the Gospels, and especially in the Sermon on the Mount — are not tricked by this deception, but have frequently refused, and still do refuse, to be soldiers, considering such an occupation incompatible with Christianity, and pre- ferring to bear all kinds of persecution, as hundreds and thousands of people are doing : in Russia many of the Doukhobdrs and Molokans ; in Austria the Naza- renes, and in Sweden, Switzerland, and Germany some members of the Evangelical sects. The Government knows this, and is therefore exceedingly anxious that the general Church deception, without which its power could not be maintained, should be commenced with every child from early infancy and be continually maintained in such a way that none may escape it. The Government tolerates anything else : drunkenness and vice (and not only tolerates but even organizes drunkenness and vice — they help to stupefy people), but by all means in its power it hinders those who have escaped out of its trap from assisting others to escape. The Russian Government perpetrates this fraud with special craft and cruelty. It orders all its subjects to baptize their children during infancy into the false faith called Orthodoxy, and it threatens to punish them if they disobey. And when the children are baptized — that is, are reckoned as Orthodox — then, under threats of criminal penalties, they are forbidden to discuss the faith into which, without their wish, they were baptized; and for such discussion of that faith, as well as for re- nouncing it and changing to another, they are actually punished. So that it cannot be said of Russians in general that they believe the Orthodox Faith — they do not know whether they believe it or not. They were converted to it during infancy, and kept in it by violence — that is, by the fear of punishment. All Russians were entrapped into Orthodoxy by cunning fraud, and are kept in it by cruel force. Using the power it wields, the Government per- 230 ESSAYS AND LETTERS petrates and maintains this fraud, and by means of it retains power. And, therefore, the sole way to free people from their many miseries lies in freeing them from the false faith instilled into them by Government, and in their imbibing the true Christian teaching, which this false teaching hides. The true Christian teaching is very simple, clear, and obvious to all, as Christ said. But it is simple and accessible only when man is freed from that falsehood in which we were all educated, and which is passed off upon us as God's Truth. Nothing useful can be poured into a vessel that is already full of what is useless. We must first empty out what is useless. So it is with the acquirement of true Christian teaching. We have first to understand that all the stories telling how God made the world 6,000 years ago ; how Adam sinned and the human race fell, and how the Son of God (a God born of a virgin) came on earth and redeemed man ; and all the fables in the Old Testament and in the Gospels, and all the lives of the saints with their stories of miracles and relics — are all nothing but a gross hash of Jewish super- stitions and priestly frauds. Only to a man quite free from this deception can the clear and simple teaching of Christ, which needs no explanation, be accessible and comprehensible. That teaching tells us nothing of the beginning, or of the end, of the world, nor about God and His purpose, nor, in general, about things which we cannot and need not know ; but it speaks only of what man must do to save himself — that is, how best to live the life he has come into, in this world, from birth to death. For that purpose it is only necessary to act towards others as we wish them to act towards us. In that is all the law and the prophets, as Christ said. And to act in this way we need neither icons, nor relics, nor church services, nor priests, nor catechisms, nor Governments, but, on the contrary, we need perfect freedom from all that ; for to do to others as we wish them to do to us is only possible when a man is free from the fables which the priests give out as the only TO A NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICER 237 truth, and when he is not bound by promises to act as other people may order. Only such a man will be capable of fulfilling — not his own will nor that of other men, but — the will of God. And the will of God is not that we should fight and oppress the weak, but that we should acknowledge all men to be our brothers and should serve one another. These are the thoughts your letter has aroused in me. I shall be very glad if they help to clear up the ques- tions you are thinking about. [1899.] XIX PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT The time is fast approaching when to call a man a patriot will be the deepest insult you can offer him. Patriotism now means advocating plunder in the interests of the privileged classes of the particular State system into which we have happened to be born.' — E. Belfort Bax. I have* already several times expressed the thought that in our day the feeling of patriotism is an unnatural, irrational, and harmful feeling, and a cause of a great part of the ills from which mankind is suffering ; and that, consequently, this feeling should not be cultivated, as is now being done, but should, on the contrary, be suppressed and eradicated by all means available to rational men. Yet, strange to say — though it is undeni- able that the universal armaments and destructive wars which are ruining the peoples result from that one feeling — all my arguments showing the backwardness, anachronism, and harmfulness of patriotism have been met, and are still met, either by silence, by intentional misinterpretation, or by a strange unvarying reply to the effect that only bad patriotism (Jingoism, or Chau- vinism) is evil, but that real good patriotism is a very elevated moral feeling, to condemn which is not only irrational but wicked. What this real, good patriotism consists in, we are never told ; or, if anything is said about it, instead of explanation we get declamatory, inflated phrases, or, finally, some other conception is substituted for r 238 1 PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 239 patriotism — something which has nothing in common with the patriotism we all know, and from the results of which we all suffer so severely. It is generally said that the real, good patriotism consists in desiring for one's own people or State such real benefits as do not infringe the well-being of other nations. Talking recently to an Englishman about the present war,* I said to him that the real cause of the war was not avarice, as people generally say, but patriotism, as is evident from the temper of the whole of English society. The Englishman did not agree with me, and said that even were the case so, it resulted from the fact that the patriotism at present inspiring Englishmen is a bad patriotism ; but that good patriotism, such as he was imbued with, would cause Englishmen, his com- patriots, to act well. 1 Then do you wish only Englishmen to act well ?' I asked. 6 1 wish all men to do so/ said he ; indicating clearly by that reply the characteristic of true benefits — whether moral, scientific, or even material and practical — which is that they spread out to all men. But, evi- dently, to wish such benefits to everyone, not only is not patriotic, but is the reverse of patriotic. Neither do the peculiarities of each people constitute patriotism, though these things are purposely substi- tuted for the conception of patriotism by its defenders. They say that the peculiarities of each people are an essential condition of human progress, and that patriotism, which seeks to maintain those peculiarities, is, therefore, a good and useful feeling. But is it not quite evident that if, once upon a time, these peculiari- ties of each people — these customs, creeds, languages — were conditions necessary for the life of humanity, in our time these same peculiarities form the chief obstacle to what is already recognised as an ideal— the brotherly union of the peoples ? And therefore the maintenance and defence of any nationality — Russian, German, * That is, the South African War of 1899-1902. 240 ESSAYS AND LETTERS French, or Anglo-Saxon, provoking the corresponding maintenance and defence not only of Hungarian, Polish, and Irish nationalities, but also of Basque, Provencal, Mordva,* Tchouvash, and many other nationalities — serves not to harmonize and unite men, but to estrange and divide them more and more from one another. So that not the imaginary but the real patriotism, which we all know, by which most people to-dav are swayed and from which humanity suffers so severely, is not the wish for spiritual benefits for one's own people (it is impossible to desire spiritual benefits for one's own people only), but is a very definite feeling of preference for one's own people or State above all other peoples and States, and a consequent wish to get for that people or State the greatest advantages and power that can be got — things which are obtainable only at the expense of the advantages and power of other peoples or States. It would, therefore, seem obvious that patriotism as a feeling is bad and harmful, and as a doctrine is stupid. For it is clear that if each people and each State con- siders itself the best of peoples and States, they all live in a gross and harmful delusion. One would expect the harmfulness and irrationality of patriotism to be evident to everybody. But the surprising fact is that cultured and learned men not only do not themselves notice the harm and stupidity of patriotism, but they resist every exposure of it with the greatest obstinacy and ardour (though without any rational grounds), and continue to belaud it as beneficent and elevating. What does this mean ? * The Mordva (or Mordvinian) and Tchouvash tribes are of Finnish origin, and inhabit chiefly the governments of the Middle Volga. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 241 Only one explanation of this amazing fact presents itself to me. All human history, from the earliest times to our own day, may be considered as a movement of the con- sciousness, both of individuals and of homogeneous groups, from lower ideas to higher ones. The whole path travelled both by individuals and by homogeneous groups may be represented as a consecu- tive flight of steps from the lowest, on the level of animal life, to the highest attained by the conscious- ness of man at a given moment of history. Each man, like each separate homogeneous group, nation, or State, always moved and moves up this ladder of ideas. Some portions of humanity are in front, others lag far behind, others, again — the majority — move somewhere between the most advanced and the most backward. But all, whatever stage they may have reached, are inevitably and irresistibly moving from lower to higher ideas. And always, at any given moment, both the individuals and the separate groups of people — advanced, middle, or backward — stand in three different relations to the three stages of ideas amid which they move. Always, both for the individual and for the separate groups of people, there are the ideas of the past, which are worn out and have become strange to them, and to which they cannot revert : as, for instance, in our Christian world, the ideas of cannibalism, universal plunder, the rape of wives, and other customs of which only a record remains. And there are the ideas of the present, instilled into men's minds by education, by example, and by the general activity of all around them ; ideas under the power of which they live at a given time : for instance, in our own day, the ideas of property, State organiza- tion, trade, utilization of domestic animals, etc. And there are the ideas of the future, of which some are already approaching realization and are obliging people to change their way of life and to struggle against the former ways : such ideas in our world as o 242 ESSAYS AND LETTERS those of freeing* the labourers, of giving equality to women, of disusing flesh food, etc. ; while others, though already recognised, have not yet come into practical conflict with the old forms of life : such in our times are the ideas (which we call ideals) of the extermination of violence, the arrangement of a com- munal system of property, of a universal religion, and of a general brotherhood of men. And, therefore, every man and every homogeneous group of men, on whatever level they may stand, having behind them the worn-out remembrances of the past, and before them the ideals of the future, are always in a state of struggle between the moribund ideas of the present and the ideas of the future that are coming to life. It usually happens that when an idea which has been useful and even necessary in the past becomes superfluous, that idea, after a more or less prolonged struggle, yields its place to a new idea which was till then an ideal, but which thus becomes a present idea. But it does occur that an antiquated idea, already replaced in people's consciousness by a higher one, is of such a kind that its maintenance is profitable to those people who have the greatest influence in their society. And then it happens that this antiquated idea, though it is in sharp contradiction to the whole surrounding form of life, which has been altering in other respects, continues to influence people and to sway their actions. Such retention of antiquated ideas always has occurred, and still does occur, in the region of religion. The cause is, that the priests, whose profitable positions are bound up with the antiquated religious idea, purposely use their power to hold people to this antiquated idea. The same thing occurs, and for similar reasons, in the political sphere, with reference to the patriotic idea, on which all arbitrary power is based. People to whom it is profitable to do so, maintain that idea by artificial means, though it now lacks both sense and utility. And as these people possess the most powerful means of influencing others, they are able to achieve their object. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 243 In this, it seems to me, lies the explanation of the strange contrast between the antiquated patriotic idea, and that whole drift of ideas making in a contrary direc- tion, which have already entered into the consciousness of the Christian world. in. Patriotism, as a feeling of exclusive love for one's own people, and as a doctrine of the virtue of sacrificing one's tranquillity, one's property, and even one's life, in defence of one's own people from slaughter and outrage by their enemies, was the highest idea of the period when each nation considered it feasible and just, for its own advantage, to subject to slaughter and outrage the people of other nations. But, already some 2,000 years ago, humanity, in the person of the highest representatives of its wisdom, began to recognise the higher idea of a brotherhood of man ; and that idea, penetrating man's consciousness more and more, has in our time attained most varied forms of realization. Thanks to improved means of communication, and to the unity of industry, of trade, of the arts, and of science, men are to-day so bound one to another that the danger of conquest, massacre, or outrage by a neighbouring people, has quite disappeared, and all peoples (the peoples, but not the Governments) live together in peaceful, mutually advantageous, and friendly commercial, industrial, artistic, and scientific relations, which they have no need and no desire to disturb. One would think, therefore, that the antiquated feeling of patriotism — being superfluous and incompatible with the conscious- ness we have reached of the existence of brotherhood among men of different nationalities — should dwindle more and more until it completely disappears. Yet the very opposite of this occurs : this harmful and anti- quated feeling not only continues to exist, but burns more and more fiercely. q 2 244 ESSAYS AND LETTERS The peoples, without any reasonable ground, and contrary alike to their conception of right and to their own advantage, not only sympathize with Governments in their attacks on other nations, in their seizures of foreign possessions, and in defending by force what they have already stolen, but even themselves demand such attacks, seizures, and defences : are glad of them, and take pride in them. The small oppressed nation- alities which have fallen under the power of the great States — the Poles, Irish, Bohemians, Finns, or Arme- nians — resenting the patriotism of their conquerors, which is the cause of their oppression, catch from them the infection of this feeling of patriotism — which has ceased to be necessary, and is now obsolete, unmean- ing, and harmful — and catch it to such a degree that all their activity is concentrated upon it, and they, themselves suffering from the patriotism of the stronger nations, are ready, for the sake of patriotism, to per- petrate on other peoples the very same deeds that their oppressors have perpetrated and are perpetrating on them. This occurs because the ruling classes (including not only the actual rulers with their officials, but all the classes who enjoy an exceptionally advantageous posi- tion : the capitalists, journalists, and most of the artists and scientists) can retain their position — exceptionally advantageous in comparison with that of the labouring masses — thanks only to the Government organization, which rests on patriotism. They have in their hands all the most powerful means of influencing the people, and always sedulously support patriotic feelings in them- selves and in others, more especially as those feelings which uphold the Government's power are those that are always best rewarded by that power. Every official prospers the more in his career, the more patriotic he is ; so also the army man gets promo- tion in time of war — the war is produced by patriotism. Patriotism and its result — wars — give an enormous revenue to the newspaper trade, and profits to many other trades. Every writer, teacher, and professor is PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 245 more secure in his place the more he preaches patriot- ism. Every Emperor and King obtains the more fame the more he is addicted to patriotism. The ruling classes have in their hands the army, money, the schools, the churches, and the press. In the schools they kindle patriotism in the children by means of histories describing their own people as the best of all peoples and always in the right. Among adults they kindle [ it by spectacles, jubilees, monu- ments, and by a lying patriotic press. Above all, they inflame patriotism in this way : perpetrating every kind of injustice and harshness against other nations, they provoke in them enmity towards their own people, and then in turn exploit that enmity to embitter their people against the foreigner. The intensification of this terrible feeling of patriot- ism has gone on among the European peoples in a rapidly increasing progression, and in our time has reached the utmost limits, beyond which there is no room for it to extend. Within the memory of people not yet old, an occur- rence took place showing most obviously the amazing intoxication caused by patriotism among the people of Christendom. The ruling classes of Germany excited the patriotism of the masses of their people to such a degree that, in the second half of the nineteenth century, a law was proposed in accordance with which all the men had to become soldiers : all the sons, husbands, fathers, learned men, and godly men, had to learn to murder, to become submissive slaves of those above them in military rank, and be absolutely ready to kill whomsoever they were ordered to kill ; to kill men of oppressed nationalities, and their own working-men standing up for their rights, and even their own fathers and brothers — as was pub- licly proclaimed by that most impudent of potentates, William II. 246 ESSAYS AND LETTERS That horrible measure, outraging all man's best feel- ings in the grossest manner, was, under the influence of patriotism, acquiesced in without murmur by the people of Germany. It resulted in their victory over the French. That victory yet further excited the patriotism of Germany, and, by reaction, that of France, Russia, and the other Powers ; and the men of the European countries unresistingly submitted to the in- troduction of general military service — i.e., to a state of slavery involving a degree of humiliation and sub- mission incomparably worse than any slavery of the ancient world. After this servile submission of the masses to the calls of patriotism, the audacity, cruelty, and insanity of the Governments knew no bounds. A competition in the usurpation of other peoples' lands in Asia, Africa, and America began — evoked partly by whim, partly by vanity, and partly by covetousness — and was accompanied by ever greater and greater distrust and enmity between the Governments. The destruction of the inhabitants on the lands seized was accepted as a quite natural proceeding. The only question was, who should be first in seizing other peoples' land and destroying the inhabitants? All the Governments not only most evidently infringed, and are infringing, the elementary demands of justice in relation to the conquered peoples, and in relation to one another, but they were guilty, and continue to be guilty, of every kind of cheating, swindling, bribing, fraud, spying, robbery, and murder ; and the peoples not only sympathized, and still sympathize, with them in all this, but they rejoice when it is their own Govern- ment and not another Government that commits such crimes. The mutual enmity between the different peoples and States has reached latterly such amazing dimensions that, notwithstanding the fact that there is no reason why one State should attack another, everyone knows that all the Governments stand with their claws out and showing their teeth, and only waiting for someone PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 247 to be in trouble, or become weak, in order to tear him to pieoes with as little risk as possible. All the peoples of the so-called Christian world have been reduced by patriotism to such a state of brutality, that not only those who are obliged to kill or be killed desire slaughter and rejoice in murder, but all the people of Europe and America, living peaceably in their homes exposed to no danger, are, at each war — thanks to easy means of communication and to the press — in the position of the spectators in a Roman circus, and, like them, delight in the slaughter, and raise the bloodthirsty cry, 'Pollice verso. 3 * Not adults only, but also children, pure, wise chil- dren, rejoice, according to their nationality, when they hear that the number killed and lacerated by lyddite or other shells on some particular day was not 700 but 1,000 Englishmen or Boers. And parents (I know such cases) encourage their children in such brutality. But that is not all. Every increase in the army of one nation (and each nation, being in danger, seeks to increase its army for patriotic reasons) obliges its neigh- bours to increase their armies, also from patriotism, and this evokes a fresh increase by the first nation. And the same thing occurs with fortifications and navies : one State has built ten ironclads, a neighbour builds eleven ; then the first builds twelve, and so on to infinity. ' I'll pinch you.' ' And I'll punch your head.' ' And 111 stab you with a dagger.' ' And I'll bludgeon you.' 6 And Til shoot you.' . . . Only bad children, drunken men, or animals, quarrel or fight so, but yet it is just what is going on among the highest representatives of the most enlightened Governments, the very men who undertake to direct the education and the morality of their subjects. * Pollice verso ( ' thumb down ') was the sign given in the Roman amphitheatres by the spectators who wished a defeated gladiator to be slain. 248 ESSAYS AND LETTERS The position is becoming worse and worse, and there is no stopping this descent towards evident perdition. The one way of escape believed in by credulous people has now been closed by recent events. I refer to the Hague Conference, and to the war between England and the Transvaal which immediately fol- lowed it. If people who think little, or but superficially, were able to comfort themselves with the idea that inter- national courts of arbitration would supersede wars and ever-increasing armaments, the Hague Conference and the war that followed it demonstrated in the most palpable manner the impossibility of finding a solution of the difficulty in that way. After the Hague Confer- ence, it became obvious that as long as Governments with armies exist, the termination of armaments and of wars is impossible. That an agreement should become possible, it is necessary that the parties to it should trust each other. And in order that the Powers should trust each other, they must lay down their arms, as is done by the bearers of a flag of truce when they meet for a conference. So long as Governments, distrusting one another, not only do not disband or decrease their armies, but'always increase them in correspondence with augmentations made by their neighbours, and by means of spies watch every movement of troops, knowing that each of the Powers will attack its neighbour as soon as it sees its way to do so, no agreement is possible, and every con- ference is either a stupidity, or a pastime, or a fraud, or an impertinence, or all of these together. It was particularly becoming for the Russian rather than any other Government to be the enfant terrible of the Hague Conference. No one at home being allowed to reply to all its evidently mendacious manifestations and rescripts, the Russian Government is so spoilt, that — having without the least scruple ruined its own people with armaments, strangled Poland, plundered Turkestan PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 249 and China, and being specially engaged in suffocating Finland — it proposed disarmament to the Governments, in full assurance that it would be trusted ! But strange, unexpected, and indecent as such a pro- posal was— especially at the very time when orders were being given to increase its army — the words publicly uttered in the hearing of the people were such, that for the sake of appearances the Governments of the other Powers could not decline the comical and evidently insincere consultation ; and so the delegates met — know- ing in advance that nothing would come of it — and for several weeks (during which they drew good salaries) though they were laughing in their sleeves, they all conscientiously pretended to be much occupied in arranging peace among the nations. The Hague Conference, followed up as it was by the terrible bloodshed of the Transvaal War, which no one attempted, or is now attempting, to stop, was, never- theless, of some use, though not at all in the way expected of it — it was useful because it showed in the most obvious manner that the evils from which the peoples are suffering cannot be cured by Governments. That Governments, even if they wished to, can ter- minate neither armaments nor wars. Governments, to have a reason for existing, must defend their people from other people's attack. But not one people wishes to attack, or does attack, another. And therefore Governments, far from wishing for peace, carefully excite the anger of other nations against them- selves. And having excited other people's anger against themselves, and stirred up the patriotism of their own people, each Government then assures its people that it is in danger and must be defended. And having the power in their hands, the Govern- ments can both irritate other nations and excite patriotism at home, and they carefully do both the one and the other ; nor can they act otherwise, for their existence depends on thus acting. If, in former times, Governments were necessary to defend their people from other people's attacks, now, 250 ESSAYS AND LETTERS on the contrary, Governments artificially disturb the peace that exists between the nations, and provoke enmity among them. When it was necessary to plough in order to sow, ploughing was wise ; but evidently it is absurd and harmful to go on ploughing after the seed has been sown. But this is just what the Governments are obliging their people to do : to infringe the unity which exists, and which nothing would infringe if it were not for the Governments. In reality what are these Governments, without which people think they could not exist ? There may have been a time when such Governments were necessary, and when the evil of supporting" a Government was less than that of being defenceless against organized neighbours ; but now such Govern- ments have become unnecessary, and are a far greater evil than all the dangers with which they frighten their subjects. Not only military Governments, but Governments in general, could be, I will not say useful, but at least harmless, only if they consisted of immaculate, holy people, as is theoretically the case among the Chinese. But then Governments, by the nature of their activity, which consists in committing acts of violence,* are always composed of elements the most contrary to holiness — of the most audacious, unscrupulous, and perverted people. A Government, therefore, and especially a Govern- ment entrusted with military power, is the most dangerous organization possible. * The word government is frequently used in an indefinite sense as almost equivalent to management or direction ; but in the sense in which the word is used in the present article, the characteristic feature of a Government is that it claims a moral right to inflict physical penalties, and by its decree to make murder a good action. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 251 The Government, in the widest sense, including capitalists and the Press, is nothing else than an organization which places the greater part of the people in the power of a smaller part, who dominate them ; that smaller part is subject to a yet smaller part, and that again to a yet smaller, and so on, reach- ing at last a few people, or one single man, who by means of military force has power over all the rest. So that all this organization resembles a cone, of which all the parts are completely in the power of those people, or of that one person, who happen to be at the apex. The apex of the cone is seized by those who are more cunning, audacious, and unscrupulous than the rest, or by someone who happens to be the heir of those who were audacious and unscrupulous. To-day it may be Boris Godundf,* and to-morrow Gregory Otrepyef.t To-day the licentious Catherine, who with her paramours has murdered her husband ; to-morrow Pougatchef ;J then Paul the madman, Nicholas I., or Alexander III. To-day it may be Napoleon, to-morrow a Bourbon or an Orleans, a Boulanger or a Panama Company ; to- day it may be Gladstone, to-morrow Salisbury, Cham- berlain, or Rhodes. And to such Governments is allowed full power, not only over property and lives, but even over the spiritual and moral development, the education, and the religious guidance of everybody. People construct such a terrible machine of power, they allow any one to seize it who can (and the chances always are that it will be seized by the most morally worthless) — they slavishly submit to him, and are then * Boris Godun6f, brother-in-law of the weak Tsar Fyodor Ivanovitch, succeeded in becoming Tsar, and reigned in Moscow from 1598 to 1605. t Gregory Otrepyef was a pretender who, passing himself off as Dimitry, son of Ivan the Terrible, reigned in Moscow in 1605 and 1606. X Pougatchef was the leader of a most formidable insur- rection in 1773-1775, and was executed in Moscow in 1775. 252 ESSAYS AND LETTERS surprised that evil comes of it. They are afraid of Anarchists' bombs, and are not afraid of this terrible organization which is always threatening them with the greatest calamities. People found it useful to tie themselves together in order to resist their enemies, as the Circassians* did when resisting attacks. But the danger is quite past, and yet people go on tying themselves together. They carefully tie themselves up so that one man can have them all at his mercy ; then they throw away the end of the rope that ties them, and leave it trailing for some rascal or fool to seize and to do them whatever harm he likes. Really, what are people doing but just that — when they set up, submit to, and maintain an organized and military Government ? To deliver men from the terrible and ever-increasing evils of armaments and wars, we want neither con- gresses nor conferences, nor treaties, nor courts of arbitration, but the destruction of those instruments of violence which are called Governments, and from which humanity's greatest evils flow. To destroy Governmental violence, only one thing is needed : it is that people should understand that the feeling of patriotism, which alone supports that instru- ment of violence, is a rude, harmful, disgraceful, and bad feeling, and, above all, is immoral. It is a rude feeling, because it is one natural only to people stand- ing on the lowest level of morality, and expecting from other nations such outrages as they themselves are ready to inflict ; it is a harmful feeling, because it disturbs advantageous and joyous, peaceful relations with other peoples, and above all produces that Govern- mental organisation under which power may fall, and * The Circassians, when surrounded, used to tie them- selves together leg to leg, that none might escape, but all die fighting. Instances of this kind occurred when their country was being annexed by Russia. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 253 does fall, into the hands of the worst men ; it is a dis- graceful feeling, because it turns man not merely into a slave, but into a fighting cock, a bull, or a gladiator, who wastes his strength and his life for objects which are not his own but his Governments' ; and it is an immoral feeling, because, instead of confessing one's self a son of God (as Christianity teaches us) or even a free man guided by his own reason, each man under the influence of patriotism confesses himself the son of his fatherland and the slave of his Government, and com- mits actions contrary to his reason and his conscience. It is only necessary that people should understand this, and the terrible bond, called Government, by which we are chained together, will fall to pieces of itself without struggle ; and with it will cease the terrible and useless evils it produces. And people are already beginning to understand this. This, for instance, is what a citizen of the United States writes : 6 We are farmers, mechanics, merchants, manufac- turers, teachers, and all we ask is the privilege of attending to our own business. We own our homes, love our friends, are devoted to our families, and do not interfere with our neighbours — we have work to do, and wish to work. ' Leave us alone ! 'But they will not — these politicians. They insist on governing us and living off our labour. They tax us, eat our substance, conscript us, draft our boys into their wars. All the myriads of men who live off the Government depend upon the Government to tax us, and, in order to tax us successfully, standing armies are maintained. The plea that the army is needed for the protection of the country is pure fraud and pretence. The French Government affrights the people by telling them that the Germans are ready and anxious to fall upon them ; the Russians fear the British ; the British fear everybody ; and now in America we are told we must increase our navy and add to our army because Europe may at any moment combine against us. 254 ESSAYS AND LETTERS 'This is fraud and untruth. The plain people in France, Germany, England, and America are opposed to war. We only wish to be let alone. Men with wives, children, sweethearts, homes, aged parents, do not want to go off and fight someone. We are peaceable and we fear war ; we hate it. 6 We would like to obey the Golden Rule. 'War is the sure result of the existence of armed men. That country which maintains a large standing army will sooner or later have a war on hand. The man who prides himself on fisticuffs is going some day to meet a man who considers himself the better man, and they will fight. Germany and France have no issue save a desire to see which is the better man. They have fought many times — and they will fight again. Not that the people want to fight, but the Superior Class fan fright into fury, and make men think they must fight to protect their homes. 6 So the people who wish to follow the teachings of Christ are not allowed to do so, but are taxed, outraged, deceived by Governments. 'Christ taught humility, meekness, the forgiveness of one's enemies, and that to kill was wrong. The Bible teaches men not to swear ; but the Superior Class swear us on the Bible in which they do not believe. ' The question is, How are we to relieve ourselves of these cormorants who toil not, but who are clothed in broadcloth and blue, with brass buttons and many costly accoutrements ; who feed upon our substance, and for whom we delve and dig ? 1 Shall we fight them ? 1 No, we do not believe in bloodshed ; and besides that, they have the guns and the money, and they can hold out longer than we. 4 But who composes this army that they would order to fire upon us ? 1 Why, our neighbours and brothers — deceived into the idea that they are doing God's service by protecting their country from its enemies. When the fact is, our PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 255 country has no enemies save the Superior Class, that pretends to look out for our interests if we will only obey and consent to be taxed. 'Thus do they siphon our resources and turn our true brothers upon us to subdue and humiliate us. You cannot send a telegram to your wife, nor an express package to your friend, nor draw a cheque for your grocer, until you first pay the tax to maintain armed men, who can quickly be used to kill you ; and who surely will imprison you if you do not pay. 'The only relief lies in education. Educate men that it is wrong to kill. Teach them the Golden Rule, and yet again teach them the Golden Rule. Silently defy this Superior Class by refusing to bow down to their fetich of bullets. Cease supporting the preachers who cry for war and spout patriotism for a considera- tion. Let them go to work as we do. We believe in Christ — they do not. Christ spoke what he thought ; they speak what they think will please the men in power — the Superior Class. 1 We will not enlist. We will not shoot on their order. We will not " charge bayonet " upon a mild and gentle people. We will not fire upon shepherds and farmers, fighting for their firesides, upon a suggestion of Cecil Rhodes. Your false cry of "Wolf! wolf!" shall not alarm us. We pay your taxes only because we have to, and we will pay no longer than we have to. We will pay no pew-rents, no tithes to your sham charities, and we will speak our minds upon occasion. * We will educate men. 'And all the time our silent influence will be going out, and even the men who are conscripted will be half- hearted and refuse to fight. We will educate men into the thought that the Christ Life of Peace and Good- will is better than the Life of Strife, Bloodshed, and War. ' "Peace on earth !" — it can only come when men do away with armies, and are willing to do unto other men as they would be done by/ So writes a citizen of the United States ; and from 256 ESSAYS AND LETTERS various sides, in various forms, such voices are sounding. This is what a German soldier writes : 'I went through two campaigns with the Prussian Guards (in 1866 and 1870), and I hate war from the bottom of my soul, for it has made me inexpressibly unfortunate. We wounded soldiers generally receive such a miserable recompense that we have indeed to be ashamed of having once been patriots. I, for instance, get ninepence a day for my right arm, which was shot through at the attack on St. Privat, August 18, 1870. Some hunting dogs have more allowed for their keep. And I have suffered for years from my twice wounded arm. Already in 1866 I took part in the war against Austria, and fought at Trautenau and Koniggratz, and saw horrors enough. In 1870, being in the reserve I was called out again ; and, as I have already said, I was wounded in the attack at St. Privat : my right arm was twice shot through lengthwise. I had to leave a good place in a brewery, and was unable afterwards to regain it. Since then I have never been able to get on my feet again. The intoxication soon passed, and there was nothing left for the wounded invalid but to keep himself alive on a beggarly pittance eked out by charity. . . . ( In a world in which people run round like trained animals, and are not capable of any other idea than that of overreaching one another for the sake of mammon — in such a world let people think me a crank ; but, for all. that, I feel in myself the divine idea of peace, which is so beautifully expressed in the Sermon on the Mount. My deepest conviction is that war is only trade on a larger scale — the ambitious and powerful trade with the happiness of the peoples. ' And what horrors do we not suffer from it ! Never shall I forget the pitiful groans that pierced one to the marrow ! ' People who never did each other any harm begin to slaughter one another like wild animals, and petty, slavish souls— implicate the good God, making Him their confederate in such deeds. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 257 c My neighbour in the ranks had his jaw broken by a bullet. The poor wretch went wild with pain. He ran like a madman, and in the scorching summer heat could not even get water to cool his horrible wound. Our commander, the Crown Prince (who was afterwards the noble Emperor Frederick), wrote in his diary : u War — is an irony on the Gospels. * . . .' People are beginning to understand the fraud of patriotism, in which all the Governments take such pains to keep them involved. ( But/ it is usually asked, ' what will there be instead of Governments ?' There will be nothing. Something that has long been useless, and therefore superfluous and bad, will be abolished. An organ that, being unnecessary, has become harmful, will be abolished. 6 But/ people generally say, ' if there is no Govern- ment, people will violate and kill each other/ Why ? Why should the abolition of the organization which arose in consequence of violence, and which has been handed down from generation to generation to do violence — why should the abolition of such an organiza- tion, now devoid of use, cause people to outrage and kill one another ? On the contrary, the presumption is that the abolition of the organ of violence would result in people ceasing to violate and kill one another. Now, some men are specially educated and trained to kill and to do violence to other people — there are men who are supposed to have a right to use violence, and who make use of an organization which exists for that purpose. Such deeds of violence and such killing are considered good and worthy deeds. But then, people will not be so brought up, and no one will have a right to use violence to others, and there will be no organization to do violence, and — as is natural to people of our time — violence and murder will always be considered bad actions, no matter who com- mits them. 258 ESSAYS AND LETTERS But should acts of violence continue to be committed even after the abolition of the Governments, such acts will certainly be fewer than are committed now, when an organization exists specially devised to commit acts of violence, and a state of things exists in which acts of violence and murders are considered good and useful deeds. The abolition of Governments will merely rid us of an unnecessary organization which we have inherited from the past, an organization for the commission of violence and for its justification. 'But there will then be no laws, no property, no courts of justice, no police, no popular education,' say people, who intentionally confuse the use of violence by Governments with various social activities. The abolition of the organization of Government formed to do violence, does not at all involve the abolition of what is reasonable and good, and there- fore not based on violence, in laws or law courts, or in property, or in police regulations, or in financial arrangements, or in popular education. On the con- trary, the absence of the brutal power of Government, which is needed only for its own support, will facilitate a juster and more reasonable social organization, need- ing no violence. Courts of justice, and public affairs, and popular education, will all exist to the extent to which they are really needed by the people, but in a shape which will not involve the evils contained in the present form of Government. Only that will be destroyed which was evil and hindered the free expres- sion of the people's will. But even if we assume that with the absence of Governments there would be disturbances and civil strife, even then the position of the people would be better than it is at present. The position now is such that it is difficult to imagine anything worse. The people are ruined, and their ruin is becoming more and more complete. The men are all converted into war- slaves, and have from day to day to expect orders to go to kill and to be killed. What more? Are the ruined PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 259 peoples to die of hunger ? Even that is already begin- ning in Russia, in Italy, and in India. Or are the women as well as the men to go to be soldiers ? In the Transvaal even that has begun. So that even if the absence of Government really meant Anarchy in the negative, disorderly sense of that word — which is far from being the case — even then no anarchical disorder could be worse than the position to which Governments have already led their peoples, and to which they are leading them. And therefore emancipation from patriotism, and the destruction of the despotism of Government that rests upon it, cannot but be beneficial to mankind. Men, recollect yourselves ! For the sake of your well-being, physical and spiritual, for the sake of your brothers and sisters, pause, consider, and think of what you are doing ! Reflect, and you will understand that your foes are not the Boers, or the English, or the French, or the Germans, or the Finns, or the Russians, but that your foes — your only foes — are you yourselves, who by your patriotism maintain the Governments that oppress you and make you unhappy. They have undertaken to protect you from danger, and they have brought that pseudo-protection to such a point that you have all become soldiers — slaves, and are all ruined, or are being ruined more and more, and at any moment may and should expect that the tight- stretched cord will snap, and a horrible slaughter of you and your children will commence. And however great that slaughter may be, and how- ever that conflict may end, the same state of things will continue. In the same way, and with yet greater intensity, the Governments will arm, and ruin, and pervert you and your children, and no one will help you to stop it or to prevent it, if you do not help your- selves. R 2 260 ESSAYS AND LETTERS And there is only one kind of help possible — it lies in the abolition of that terrible linking up into a cone of violence,, which enables the person or persons who succeed in seizing the apex to have power over all the rest, and to hold that power the more firmly the more cruel and inhuman they are, as we see by the cases of the Napoleons, Nicholas L, Bismarck, Chamberlain, Rhodes, and our Russian Dictators who rule the people in the Tsar's name. And there is only one way to destroy this binding together — it is by shaking off the hypnotism of patriotism. Understand that all the evils from which you suffer, you yourselves cause by yielding to the suggestions by which Emperors, Kings, Members of Parliament, Governors, officers, capitalists, priests, authors, artists, and all who need this fraud of patriotism in order to live upon your labour, deceive you ! Whoever you may be — Frenchman, Russian, Pole, Englishman, Irishman, or Bohemian — understand that all your real human interests, whatever they may be — agricultural, industrial, commercial, artistic, or scien- tific — as well as your pleasures and joys, in no way run counter to the interests of other peoples or States ; and that you are united, by mutual co-operation, by interchange of services, by the joy of wide brotherly intercourse, and by the interchange not merely of goods but also of thoughts and feelings, with the folk of other lands. Understand that the question as to who manages to seize Wei-hai-wei, Port Arthur, or Cuba — your Govern- ment or another — does not affect you, or, rather, that every such seizure made by your Government injures you, by inevitably bringing in its train all sorts of pressure on you by your Government to force you to take part in the robbery and violence by which alone such seizures are made, or can be retained when made. Understand that your life can in no way be bettered by Alsace becoming German or French, and Ireland or Poland being free or enslaved — whoever holds them. PATRIOTISM AND GOVERNMENT 261 you are free to live where you will, if even you be an Alsatian, an Irishman, or a Pole. Understand, too, that by stirring up patriotism you will only make the case worse, for the subjection in which your people are kept has resulted simply from the struggle between patriotisms, and every manifestation of patriotism in one nation provokes a corresponding reaction in another. Understand that salvation from your woes is only pos- sible when you free yourself from the obsolete idea of patriotism and from the obedience to Governments that is based upon it, and when you boldly enter into the region of that higher idea, the brotherly union of the peoples, which has long since come to life, and from all sides is calling you to itself. If people would but understand that they are not the sons of some fatherland or other, nor of Govern- ments, but are sons of God, and can therefore neither be slaves nor enemies one to another — those insane, unnecessary, worn-out, pernicious organizations called Governments, and all the sufferings, violations, humilia- tions, and crimes which they occasion, would cease. [May 10, o.s., 1900.] XX 'THOU SHALT NOT KILL' ' Thou shalt not kill.'— Exod. xx. 13. 1 The disciple is not above his master : but every one when he is perfected shall be as his master.' — Luke vi. 40. ' For all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.' — Matt. xxvi. 52. 'Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' — Matt. vii. 12. When Kings are executed after trial, as in the case of Charles I., Louis XVI. , and Maximilian of Mexico ; or when they are killed in Court conspiracies, like Peter III., Paul, and various Sultans, Shahs, and Kharis— little is said about it ; but when they are killed without a trial and without a Court conspiracy — as in the case of Henry IV. of France, Alexander II., the Empress of Austria, the late Shah of Persia, and, recently, Humbert — such murders excite the greatest surprise and indignation among Kings and Emperors and their adherents, just as if they themselves never took part in murders, nor profited by them, nor insti- gated them. But, in fact, the mildest of the murdered Kings (Alexander II. or Humbert, for instance), not to speak of executions in their own countries, were insti- gators of, and accomplices and partakers in, the murder of tens of thousands of men who perished on the field of battle ; while more cruel Kings and Emperors have been guilty of hundreds of thousands, and even millions, of murders. The teaching of Christ repeals the law, ( An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth '; but those who have [ 262 ] 'THOU SHALT NOT KILL 5 263 always clung to that law, and still cling to it, and who apply it to a terrible degree— not only claiming c an eye for an eye/ but without provocation decreeing the slaughter of thousands, as they do when they declare war — have no right to be indignant at the application of that same law to themselves in so small and insignifi- cant a degree that hardly one King or Emperor is killed for each hundred thousand, or perhaps even for each million, who are killed by the order and with the consent of Kings and Emperors. Kings and Emperors not only should not be indignant at such murders as those of Alexander II. and Humbert, but they should be surprised that such murders are so rare, considering the continual and universal example of murder that they give to mankind. The crowd are so hypnotized that they see what is going on before their eyes, but do not understand its meaning. They see what constant care Kings, Emperors, and Presidents devote to their disciplined armies ; they see the reviews, parades, and manoeuvres the rulers hold, about which they boast to one another ; and the people crowd to see their own brothers, brightly dressed up in fools' clothes, turned into machines to the sound of drum and trumpet, all, at the shout of one man) making one and the same move- ment at one and the same moment — but they do not understand what it all means. Yet the meaning of this drilling is very clear and simple : it is nothing but a preparation for killing. It is stupefying men in order to make them fit instru- ments for murder. And those who do this, who chiefly direct this and are proud of it, are the Kings, Emperors and Presidents'. And it is just these men — who are specially occupied in organizing murder and who have made murder their profession, who wear military uniforms and carry murderous weapons (swords) at their sides — that are horrified and indignant when one of themselves is murdered. The murder of Kings — the murder of Humbert — is terrible, but not on account of its cruelty. The things 264 ESSAYS AND LETTERS done by command of Kings and Emperors — not only past events such as the massacre of St. Bartholomew, religious butcheries, the terrible repressions of peasant rebellions, and Paris coups d'etat, but the present-day Government executions, the doing-to-death of prisoners in solitary confinement, the Disciplinary Battalions, the hangings, the beheadings, the shootings and slaughter in wars — are incomparably more cruel than the murders committed by Anarchists. Nor are these murders terrible because undeserved. If Alexander II. and Humbert did not deserve death, still less did the thousands of Russians who perished at Plevna, or of Italians who perished in Abyssinia. Such murders are terrible, not because they are cruel or unmerited, but because of the unreasonableness of those who commit them. If the regicides act under the influence of personal feelings of indignation evoked by the sufferings of an oppressed people, for which they hold Alexander or Carnot or Humbert responsible ; or if they act from personal feelings of revenge, then — however immoral their conduct may be — it is at least intelligible ; but how is it that a body of men (Anarchists, we are told) such as those by whom Bresci was sent, and who are now threatening another Emperor — how is that they cannot devise any better means of improving the condi- tion of humanity than by killing people whose destruc- tion can no more be of use than the decapitation of that mythical monster on whose neck a new head appeared as soon as one was cut off? Kings and Emperors have long ago arranged for themselves a system like that of a magazine-rifle : as soon as one bullet has been discharged another takes its place. Le roi est mort, vive le roi ! So what is the use of killing them ? Only on a most superficial view, can the killing of these men seem a means of saving the nations from oppression and from wars destructive of human life. One only need remember that similar oppression and similar war went on, no matter who was at the head of 'THOU SHALT NOT KILL' 265 the Government — Nicholas or Alexander, Frederick or Wilhelm, Napoleon or Louis, Palmerston or Gladstone, McKinley or anyone else — in order to understand that it is not any particular person who causes these oppres- sions and these wars from which the nations suffer. The misery of nations is caused not by particular persons, but by the particular order of Society under which the people are so tied up together that they find themselves all in the power of a few men, or more often in the power of one single man : a man so perverted by his unnatural position as arbiter of the fate and lives of millions, that he is always in an unhealthy state, and always suffers more or less from a mania of self-aggran- dizement, which only his exceptional position conceals from general notice. Apart from the fact that such men are surrounded from earliest childhood to the grave by the most insen- sate luxury and an atmosphere of falsehood and flattery which always accompanies them, their whole education and all their occupations are centred on one object : learning about former murders, the best present-day ways of murdering, and the best preparations for future murder. From childhood they learn about killing in all its possible forms. They always carry about with them murderous weapons — swords or sabres ; they dress themselves in various uniforms ; they attend parades, reviews and manoeuvres ; they visit one another, pre- senting one another with Orders and nominating one another to the command of regiments — and not only does no one tell them plainly what they are doing, or say that to busy one's self with preparations for killing is revolting and criminal, but from all sides they hear nothing but approval and enthusiasm for all this activity of theirs. Every time they go out, and at each parade and review, crowds of people flock to greet them with enthusiasm, and it seems to them as if the whole nation approves of their conduct. The only part of the Press that reaches them, and that seems to them the expres- sion of the feelings of the whole people, or at least of its best representatives, most slavishly extols their every 266 ESSAYS AND LETTERS word and action, however silly or wicked they may be. Those around them, men and women, clergy and laity — all people who do not prize human dignity — vying with one another in refined flattery, agree with them about anything and deceive them about everything, making it impossible for them to see life as it is. Such rulers might live a hundred years without ever seeing one single really independent man or ever hearing the truth spoken. One is sometimes appalled to hear of the words and deeds of these men ; but one need only consider their position in order to understand that any- one in their place would act as they do. If a reasonable man found himself in their place, there is only one reasonable action he could perform, and that would be to get away from such a position. Any one remaining in it would behave as they do. What, indeed, must go on in the head of some Wilhelm of Germany — a narrow-minded, ill-educated, vain man, with the ideals of a German Junker — when there is nothing he can say so stupid or so horrid that it will not be met by an enthusiastic ' Hoch /' and be commented on by the Press of the entire world as though it were something highly important. When he says that, at his word, soldiers should be ready to kill th,eir own fathers, people shout ' Hurrah !' When he says that the Gospel must be introduced with an iron fist — ' Hurrah !' When he says the army is to take no prisoners in China, but to slaughter everybody, he is not put into a lunatic asylum, but people shout • Hurrah !' and set sail for China to execute his com- mands. Or Nicholas II. (a man naturally modest) begins his reign by announcing to venerable old men who had expressed a wish to be allowed to discuss their own affairs, that such ideas of self-government were ' insensate dreams/ — and the organs of the Press he sees, and the people he meets, praise him for it. He proposes a childish, silly, and hypocritical project of universal peace, while at the same time ordering an increase in the army — and there are no limits to the laudations of his wisdom and virtue. Without any 'THOU SHALT NOT KILL' 267 need, he foolishly and mercilessly insults and oppresses a whole nation, the Finns, and again he hears nothing but praise. Finally, he arranges the Chinese slaughter — terrible in its injustice, cruelty and incompatibility with his peace projects — and, from all sides, people applaud him, both as a victor and as a continuer of his father's peace policy. What, indeed, must be going on in the heads and hearts of these men ? So it is not the Alexanders and Humberts, nor the Wilhelms, Nicholases, and Chamberlains — though they decree these oppressions of the nations and these wars — who are really the most guilty of these sins, but it is rather those who place and support them in the position of arbiters over the lives of their fellow- men. And, therefore, the thing to do is not to kill Alexanders, Nicholases, Wilhelms, and Humberts, but to cease to support the arrangement of society of which they are a result. And what supports the present order of society is the selfishness and stupefaction of the people, who sell their freedom and honour for insignificant material advantages. People who stand on the lowest rung of the ladder — partly as a result of being stupefied by a patriotic and pseudo-religious education, and partly for the sake of Eersonal advantages — cede their freedom and sense of uman dignity at the bidding of these who stand above them and offer them material advantages. In the same way — in consequence of stupefaction, and chiefly for the sake of advantages — those who are a little higher up the ladder cede their freedom and manly dignity, and the same thing repeats itself with those standing yet higher, and so on to the topmost rung — to those who, or to him who, standing at the apex of the social cone have nothing more to obtain : for whom the only motives of action are love of power and vanity, and who are generally so perverted and stupefied by the power of life and death which they hold over their fellow-men, and by the consequent servility and flattery of those who surround them, that, without ceasing to do evil, 268 ESSAYS AND LETTERS they feel quite assured that they are benefactors to the human race. It is the people who sacrifice their dignity as men for material profit that produce these men who cannot act otherwise than as they do act, and with whom it is use- less to be angry for their stupid and wicked actions. To kill such men is like whipping children whom one has first spoilt. That nations should not be oppressed, and that there should be none of these useless wars, and that men may not be indignant with those who seem to cause these evils, and may not kill them — it seems that only a very small thing is necessary. It is necessary that men should understand things as they are, should call them by their right names, and should know that an army is an instrument for killing, and that the enrolment and management of an army — the very things which Kings, Emperors, and Presidents occupy themselves with so self-confidently — is a preparation for murder. If only each King, Emperor, and President under- stood that his work of directing armies is not an honourable and important duty, as his flatterers persuade him it is, but a bad and shameful act of preparation for murder — and if each private individual understood that the payment of taxes wherewith to hire and equip soldiers, and, above all, army-service itself, are not matters of indifference, but are bad and shameful actions by which he not only permits but participates in murder — then this power of Emperors, Kings, and Presidents, which now arouses our indignation, and which causes them to be murdered, would disappear of itself. So that the Alexanders, Carnots, Humberts, and others should not be murdered, but it should be explained to them that they are themselves murderers, and, chiefly, they should not be allowed to kill people : men should refuse to murder at their command. If people do not yet act in this way, it is only because Governments^ to maintain themselves, dili- gently exercise a hypnotic influence upon the people. •THOU SHALT NOT KILL' 269 And, therefore, we may help to prevent people killing either Kings or one another, not by killing — murder only increases the hypnotism — but by arousing people from their hypnotic condition. And it is this I have tried to do by these remarks. [August 8, o.s., 1900.] Prohibited in Russia, an attempt was made to print this article in the Russian language in Germany ; but the edition was seized in July, 1903, and after a trial in the Provincial Court of Leipzig (August, 1903) it was pronounced to be insulting to the German Kaiser, and all copies were ordered to be destroyed. XXI TO THE TSAR AND HIS ASSISTANTS Again there are murders, again disturbances and slaughter in the streets, again we shall have execu- tions, terror, false accusations, threats and anger on the one side ; and hatred, thirst for vengeance, and readiness for self-sacrifice, on the other. Again all Russians are divided into two hostile camps, and are committing and preparing to commit the greatest crimes. Very possibly the disturbances that have now broken out may be suppressed, though it is also possible that the troops of soldiers and of police, on whom the Government place such reliance, may realize that they are being called on to commit the terrible crime of fratricide — and may refuse to obey. But even if the present disturbance is suppressed, it will not be extin- guished, but will burn in secret more and more fiercely, and will inevitably burst out sooner or later with increased strength, and produce yet greater sufferings and crimes. Why is this ? Why should these things occur, when they might so easily be avoided ? We address all you who are in power, from the Tsar, the members of the Council of State, and Ministers, to the relations — uncles, brothers, and entourage of the Tsar, and all who can influence him by persuasion. We appeal to you not as to enemies, but as to brothers, who, whether willingly or not, are inseparably bound up with us, so that all the sufferings we undergo react on you also — and react much more painfully if you feel [ 270 ] TO THE TSAR AND HIS ASSISTANTS 271 that you could remove these sufferings but have failed to do so — we appeal to you to act so that the existing state of things may cease. It seems to you, or to most of you, that it has all happened because, amid the regular current of life, some troublesome, dissatisfied men have arisen, who disturb the people and interrupt this regular current ; and that what is wrong is all the fault of these people. So that these troublesome, dissatisfied people should be subdued and repressed, and then everything will again go all right, and nothing will need to be altered. But if, really, it were all due to troublesome and wicked men, it would be only necessary to catch them and shut them up in prison and execute them, and all disturbances would be at end. But, in fact, during more than thirty years, these people have been caught, imprisoned and executed, or banished by thousands — yet their number is ever increasing, and discontent with the present conditions of life not only grows, but spreads so that it has now reached millions of the working classes — the great majority of the whole nation. Evi- dently this dissatisfaction is not caused by troublesome and wicked men, but by something else. And you of the Government need only turn your attention for a moment from the acute strife in which you are now absorbed, and cease to credit naively the statement made by the Minister of the Interior in a recent circular, namely, that 'it is only necessary for the police to disperse the crowd promptly, and to fire at it if it does not disperse, for all to be tranquil and quiet/ and you will clearly see the cause that produces discon- tent among the people, and finds expression in disturb- ances which are assuming ever greater and wider and deeper dimensions. Those causes are, that because, unfortunately, a Tsar who had freed the serfs happened to be murdered by a small group of people who mistakenly imagined that they would thereby serve the nation, the Government has not only decided not to advance in the direction of gradually discarding despotic methods (at variance with 272 ESSAYS AND LETTERS all the present conditions of life), but, on the contrary, imagining safety to lie in those coarse and obsolete methods of despotism — instead of advancing in agree- ment with the general development and increasing com- plexity of modern life — has, for twenty years, not even stood still, but has receded, and by this retrograde movement has separated itself more and more from the people and their demands. So that it is not some wicked and troublesome people, but it is you yourselves — the rulers, who do not wish to consider anything but your own tranquillity for the passing moment. The thing needecj is not that you should defend yourselves from enemies who wish to injure you — no one wishes to injure you — but the thing needed is, that having recognised the cause of the social discontent you should remove it. Men, as a whole, cannot desire discord and enmity, but always prefer to live in agreement and amity with their fellows. And if they now are disquiet and seem to wish you ill, it is only because you appear to them as an obstacle depriving not only them, but millions of their brothers, of the best human blessings — freedom and enlightenment. That they may cease to be perturbed and to attack you, Very little is required, and that little is so' neces- sary for you yourselves, and would so evidently give you peace, that it will be strange indeed if you do not grant it. What needs to be done at once is very little. Only the following : First : To grant the peasants equal rights with all other citizens, and therefore to — (a) Abolish the stupid, arbitrary institution of the Zemsky Natchdhriks* (b) Repeal the special rules, framed to regulate the relations between workmen and their employers. (c) Free the peasants from the constraint of needing passports to move from place to place, and also from the compulsion laid only on them, to furnish lodging and horses for officials, and men for police service. * See footnote, p. 198. TO THE TSAR AND HIS ASSISTANTS 273 (d) Free them from the unjust law which makes them jointly responsible for other peasants' debts, and from the land-redemption payments which have already, long ago, exceeded the value of the land received by them at the time of their emancipation. (e) And, chiefly, abolish the senseless, utterly un- necessary and shameful system of corporal punishment, which has been retained only for the most industrious, moral, and numerous class of the population. To equalize the rights of the peasantry (who form the immense majority of the people) with the rights of the other classes is particularly important, for no social system can be durable or stable, under which the majority does not enjoy equal rights but is kept in a servile position, and is bound by exceptional laws. Only when the labouring majority have the same rights as all other citizens, and are freed from shameful dis- abilities, is a firm order of society possible. Secondly : The Statute of Increased Protection* — which abolishes all existing laws and hands over the population into the power of officials, who are often immoral, stupid, and cruel — must cease to be applied. Its disuse is specially important because, by stopping the action of the common law, it develops the practice of secret denunciations and the spy system, it en- courages and evokes gross violence, often employed against working men who have differences with their employers or with the land-owners (nowhere are such cruelties practised as in the districts where this statute is in force). But above all is its disuse important, because to this terrible measure, and to it alone, do we owe the introduction and more and more frequent infliction of capital punishment — which most surely depraves men,' is contrary to the Christian spirit of the Russian people, was formerly unknown in our code of laws, and is itself the greatest of crimes, and one for- bidden by God and by conscience. Thirdly : All barriers to education, instruction, and * See footnote, p. 202. 274 ESSAYS AND LETTERS to imparting knowledge, should be destroyed. It is necessary — (a) To make no distinctions debarring people of any class from education, and therefore to abolish all restrictions aimed specially at the peasant class (for- bidding popular readings, classes, and books, for some reason supposed to be bad for the common people). (b) To allow people of any race or religion (not excepting the Jews, who for some reason are now deprived of that right) to have access to all schools. (c) To cease to hinder teachers from using in school the language spoken by the children who attend the school. (d) And, above all, to allow the establishment and continuance of all sorts of private schools (elementary and higher) by all who wish to devote themselves to education. To set education and instruction free from the re- straints now imposed upon them is important, because these restraints alone hinder the working people from freeing themselves from that very ignorance which now serves the Government as a chief excuse for imposing restraints on the peasants. The liberation of the work- ing classes from Governmental interference in matters of education would be the easiest and quickest way to enable the people to gain all the knowledge they need, in place of such knowledge as is now being forced upon them. Liberty for private schools to be opened and maintained by private people would end the disturbances now continually arising among students dissatisfied with the management of the establishments in which they find themselves. Were there no obstacles to opening private schools and colleges, both elemen- tary and advanced, young people dissatisfied with the management of the Government educational institu- tions would enter private establishments which suited their requirements. Lastly, fourthly, and most important of all, all limitation of religious liberty should be abolished. It is necessary — TO THE TSAR AND HIS ASSISTANTS 275 (a) To repeal all the laws under which any seces- sion from the established Church is punished as a crime. (b) To allow Old-Believers,* Baptists, Molokans,-t Stundists,;J and others, to open and maintain churches, chapels, and houses of prayer. (c) To allow religious meetings and the preaching of all faiths. (d) Not to hinder people of different faiths from educating their children in those faiths. It is necessary to do this because, apart from the fact shown by history and science, and generally ad- mitted, that religious persecutions fail to effect their object, and even produce a reverse effect by strengthen- ing what people wish to destroy — and apart from the fact that the intervention of Government in matters of faith produces that most harmful and therefore worst of vices, hypocrisy, which Christ so strongly denounced, — not to speak of all that,, the interference of Govern- ment in matters of faith hinders each individual and the whole people from attaining that highest blessing — union with one another. For union is attained, not by the forcible and impossible retention of all men in the bonds of one and the same external, once-accepted, confession of a religious teaching to which infallibility is attributed, but only by the free advance of the whole of humanity towards truth, which alone, there- fore, can truly unite men. Such are the modest and easily realizable desires, we believe, of the immense majority of the Russian people. * The Old-Believers is a general name for the sects that separated from the Russo-Greek Church in the seventeenth and early in the eighteenth centuries. f The Molokans are a more modern sect. They reject the Sacraments and the ceremonial of the Russo-Greek Church, and pay much attention to the Bible. t Stundist is a general name for the Protestant and rationalistic sects of many shades that have rapidly sprung up and increased, chiefly in South Russia, during the last quarter of a century. s 2 276 ESSAYS AND LETTERS The adoption of these measures would undoubtedly pacify the people, and free them from those terrible sufferings and (what is worse than sufferings) crimes, which will inevitably be committed on both sides, if the Government busies itself only with the suppression of these disturbances, leaving their cause untouched. We appeal to you all — to the Tsar, to the Ministers, to the Members of the Council of State, to the Privy Councillors, and to those who surround the Tsar — to all, in general, who have power : to help to give peace to the nation, and free it from suffering and crime. We appeal to you, not as to men of a hostile camp, but as to men who must of necessity agree with us, as to fellow-workers and brothers. It cannot be that, in a society of men mutually bound together, one section should feel at ease while it is ill with another. And especially is this so if it is the majority that suffers. It can be well for all, only when it is well for the strongest and most indus- trious majority, which supports the whole society. Help, then, to improve the position of that majority, and help it in that which is most important : in what regards its freedom and enlightenment. Only then can your position also be safe and really strong. This is written by Leo Tolstoy, who in writing it has tried to express not his own thoughts only, but the opinion of many of the best, kindest, most disinterested, most reasonable people — who all desire these things. [March 15, o.s., 1901.] XXII A REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT OF EXCOM- MUNICATION, AND TO LETTERS RECEIVED BY ME CONCERNING IT 1 He who begins by loving Christianity better than truth, will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than Christianity, and end in loving himself better than all.' — Coleridge. At first I did not wish to reply to the Synod's Edict about me but it has called forth very many letters in which correspondents unknown to me write — some of them scolding me for rejecting things I never rejected ; others exhorting me to believe in things I have always believed in ; others, again, expressing an agreement with me which probably does not really exist, and a sympathy to which I am hardly entitled. So I have decided to reply both to the Edict itself— indicating what is unjust in it — and to the communications of my unknown correspondents. The Edict of the Synod has, in general, many defects. It is either illegal, or else intentionally equivocal ; it is arbitrary, unfounded, untruthful, and is also libellous, and incites to evil feelings and deeds. It is illegal or intentionally equivocal ; for if it is intended as an Excommunication from the Church, it fails to conform to the Church regulations subject to which Excommunications can be pronounced ; while if it is merely an announcement of the fact that one who does not believe in the Church and its dogmas does not belong to the Church — that is self-evident, and the announcement can have no purpose other than to pass [ 277 ] 278 ESSAYS AND LETTERS for an Excommunication without really being one ; as happened, in fact, for that is how the Edict has been understood. It is arbitrary, for it accuses only me of disbelief in all the points enumerated in the Edict ; whereas many, in fact almost all educated people, share that disbelief and have constantly expressed and still express it both in conversations, in lectures, in pamphlets and in books. It is unfounded because it gives as a chief cause of its publication the great circulation of the false teach- ing wherewith I pervert the people — whereas I am well assured that hardly a hundred people can be found who share my views, and the circulation of my writings on religion, thanks to the Censor, is so insignificant that the majority of those who have read the Synod's Edict have not the least notion of what I may have written about religion — as is shown by the letters I have received. It contains an obvious falsehood, for it says that efforts have been made by the Church to show me my errors, but that these efforts have been unsuccessful. Nothing of the kind ever took place. It constitutes what in legal terminology is called a libel, for it contains assertions known to be false and tending to my hurt. It is, finally, an incentive to evil feelings and deeds, for, as was to be expected, it evoked, in unenlightened and unreasoning people, anger and hatred against me, culminating in threats of murder expressed in letters I received. One writes : ' Now thou hast been anathe- matized, and after death wilt go to everlasting torments, and wilt perish like a dog . . . anathema upon thee, old devil ... be damned.' Another blames the Government for not having, as yet, shut me up in a monastery, and fills his letter with abuse. A third writes : ' If the Government does not get rid of you, we will ourselves make you shut your mouth,' and the letter ends with curses. ( May you be destroyed — you blackguard P writes a fourth ; * 1 shall find means to do it \ . . and then follows indecent abuse. After the REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT 279 publication of the Synod's Edict I also noticed indica- tions of anger of this kind in some of the people I met. On the very day (February 25) when the Edict was made public, while crossing a public square I heard the words : ( See ! there goes the devil in human form,' and had the crowd been composed of other elements I should very likely have been beaten to death, as happened some years ago to a man at the Panteleymon Chapel. So that, altogether, the Synod's Edict is very bad ; and the statement, at the end, that those who sign it pray that I may become such as they are, does not make it any better. That relates to the Edict as a whole ; as to details, it is wrong in the following particulars. It is said in the Edict : ' A writer well known to the world, Russian by birth, Orthodox by baptism and education — Count Tolstoy — under the seduction of his intellectual pride has insolently risen against the Lord and against his Christ and against his holy heritage, and has pub- licly, in the sight of all men, renounced the Orthodox Mother Church which has reared him and educated him.' That I have renounced the Church which calls itself Orthodox is perfectly correct. But I renounced it not because I had risen against the Lord, but, on the contrary, only because with all the strength of my soul I wished to serve him. Before renouncing the Church, and fellowship with the people which was inexpressibly dear to me, I — having seen some reasons to doubt the Church's integrity — devoted several years to the investigation of its theoretic and prac- tical teachings. For the theory, I read all I could about Church doctrine, and studied and critically analyzed dogmatic theology ; while as to practice, for more than a year I followed strictly all the injunctions of the Church, observing all the fasts and all the services. And I became convinced that Church doctrine is theoreti- cally a crafty and harmful lie, and practically a collec- tion of the grossest superstitions and sorcery, which 280 ESSAYS AND LETTERS completely conceals the whole meaning of Christ's teaching.* And I really repudiated the Church, ceased to observe its ceremonies, and wrote a will instructing those near me, that when I die they should not allow any servants of the Church to have access to me, but should put away my dead body as quickly as possible — without having any incantations or prayers over it — just as one puts away any objectionable and useless object, that it may not be an inconvenience to the living. As to the statements made about me, that I devote the c literary activity and the talent given to him by God, to disseminating among the people teachings contrary to Christ and to the Church,' and that, ' in his works and in letters issued by him and by his disciples in great quantities, over the whole world, but particularly within the limits of our dear fatherland, he preaches with the zeal of a fanatic the overthrow of all the dogmas of the Orthodox Church and the very essence of the Christian faith' — this is not true. J never troubled myself about the propagation of my teaching. It is true that for myself I have expressed in writings my understanding of Christ's teaching, and have not hidden these works from those who wished to become acquainted with them, but I never published them * One need only read the Prayer- Book, and follow the ritual which is continually performed by the Orthodox priests, and which is considered a Christian worship of God, to see that all these ceremonies are nothing but different kinds of sorcery, adapted to all the incidents of life. That a child in case of death should go to Paradise, one has to know how to oil him and how to immerse him while pronouncing certain words ; in order that after child-birth a mother may cease to be unclean, certain incantations have to be pronounced ; to be successful in one's affairs, to live comfortably in a new house, that corn may grow well, that a drought may cease, to recover from sickness, to ease the condition in the next world of one who is dying, — for all these and a thousand other incidents there are certain incantations which, at a certain place, for a certain con- sideration, are pronounced by the priest. — L. T. REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT 281 myself. Only when they have asked me about it, have I told people how I understand Christ's teaching. To those that asked, I said what 1 thought, and (when I had them) gave them my books. Then it is said that ' he denies God worshipped in the Holy Trinity, the Creator and Protector of the universe ; denies our Lord Jesus Christ, God-man, Redeemer and Saviour of the world, who suffered for us men and for our salvation, and was raised from the dead ; denies the immaculate conception of the Lord Christ as man, and the virginity before his birth and after his birth of the Most Pure Mother of God/ That I deny the incomprehensible Trinity ; the fable, which is altogether meaningless in our time, of the fall of the first man ; the blasphemous story of a God born of a virgin to redeem the human race — is perfectly true. But God, a Spirit ; God, love ; the only God — the Source of all, — I not only do not deny, but I attribute real existence to God alone, and I see the whole meaning of life only in fulfilling his will, which is expressed in the Christian teaching. It is also said : e He does not acknowledge a life and retribution beyond the grave/ If one is to understand, by life beyond the grave, the Second Advent, a hell with eternal torments, devils, and a Paradise of per- petual happiness — it is perfectly true that I do not acknowledge such a life beyond the grave ; but eternal life and retribution here and everywhere, now and for ever, I acknowledge to such an extent that, standing now, at my age, on the verge of my grave, I often have to make an effort to restrain myself from desiring the death of this body — that is, birth to a new life ; and I believe every good action increases the true welfare of my eternal life, and every evil action decreases it. It is also stated that I reject all the Sacraments. That is quite true. I consider all the Sacraments to be coarse, degrading sorcery, incompatible with the idea of God or with the Christian teaching, and also as infringements of very plain injunctions in the Gospels. In the Baptism of Infants I see a palpable perversion of 282 ESSAYS AND LETTERS the whole meaning which might be attached to the baptism of adults who consciously accepted Christ- ianity ; in the performance of the Sacrament of Mar- riage over those who are known to have had other sexual unions, in the permission of divorce, and in the consecration of the marriages of divorced people, I see a direct infringement both of the meaning and of the words of the Gospel teaching. In the periodical absolution of sins at Confession I see a harmful deception, which only encourages im- morality and causes men not to fear to sin. Both in Extreme Unction and in Anointing I see methods of gross sorcery — as in the worship of icons and relics, and as in all the rites, prayers and exorcisms which fill the Prayer-Book. In the Sacrament I see a deification of the flesh, and a perversion of Christian teaching. In Ordination I see (beside an obvious pre- paration for deception) a direct infringement of the words of Jesus, which plainly forbid anyone to be called teacher, father, or master.* It is stated, finally, as the last and greatest of my sins, that, ( reviling the most sacred objects of the faith of the Orthodox people, he has not shrunk from sub- jecting to derision the greatest of Sacraments, the Holy Eucharist. 't That I did not shrink from describing simply and objectively what the priest does when pre- paring this so-called Sacrament is perfectly true ; but that this so-called Sacrament is anything holy, and that to describe it simply, just as it is performed, is blasphemy, is quite untrue. Blasphemy does not con- sist in calling a partition a partition, and not an icono- * Matt, xxiii. 8-10 : ' But be not ye called Rabbi : for one is your teacher, and all ye are brethren. And call no man your father on the earth : for one is your Father, which is in heaven. Neither be ye called masters : for one is your Master, even the Christ.' t See chapter xxxix., book i., of Resurrection; but see also, as a probable provocative of Tolstoy's Excommunica- tion, the description of the Head of the Holy Synod in chapter xxvii., book ii., of that work. REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT 283 stasis,* and a cup a cup, and not a chalice, etc. ; but it is a most terrible, continual, and revolting blasphemy that men (using all possible means of deception and hypnotization) assure children and simple-minded folk that if bits of bread are cut up in a particular manner while certain words are pronounced over them, and if they are put into wine,t God will enter into those bits of oread, and any living person named by the priest when he takes out one of these sops will be healthy, and any dead person named by the priest when he takes out one of these sops will be better off in the other world on that account ; and that into the man who eats such a sop — God himself will enter. Surely that is terrible ! They undertake to teach us to understand the per- sonality of Christ, but his teaching, which destroys evil in the world, and blesses men so simply, easily, and undoubtedly, if only they do not pervert it, is all hidden, is all transformed into a gross sorcery of wash- ings, smearing with oil, gestures, exorcisms, eating of bits of bread, etc., so that of the true teaching nothing remains. And if, at any time, some one tries to remind men that Christ's teaching consists not in this sorcery, not in public prayer, liturgies, candles, and icons, but in loving one another, in not returning evil for evil, in not judging or killing one another — the anger of those to whom deception is profitable is aroused, and with incomprehensible audacity they publicly declare in churches, and print in books, newspapers, and catechisms, that Jesus never forbade oaths (swearing allegiance, or swearing in courts of law), never forbade * The iconostasis in Russo-Greek churches corresponds, somewhat, both to the Western altar-rails and to a rood- screen. f In the Greek Church the priest mixes the sacramental bread with the wine before administering it to the com- municant. The reader will note in this article allusions to several practices (baptism by immersion, unction, etc.) which do not exist, or are differently carried out, in the Church of England. 284 ESSAYS AND LETTERS murder (executions and wars), and that the teaching of non-resistance to evil has with Satanic ingenuity been invented by the enemies of Christ.* What is most terrible is that people to whom it is profitable, not only deceive adults, but (having power to do so) deceive children also — those very children con- cerning whom Jesus pronounced woe on him who de- ceives them. It is terrible that these people for such petty advantages do such fearful harm, by hiding from men the truth that was revealed by Jesus, and that gives blessings such as are not counterbalanced even to the extent of a one-thousandth part by the advantages these men secure for themselves. They behave like a robber who killed a whole family of five or six people to carry off an old coat and tenpence in money. They would willingly have given him all their clothes and all their money not to be killed ; but he could not act otherwise. So it is with the religious deceivers. It would be worth while keeping them ten times better, and letting them live in the greatest luxury, if only they would refrain from ruining men with their deceptions. But they 'cannot act differently. That is what is awful. And, therefore, we not only may, but should, unmask their deceptions. If there be a sacred thing, it is surely not what they call Sacraments, but just this very duty of unmasking their religious deceptions when one detects them. When a Tchouvash smears his idol with sour cream, or beats it, I can refrain from insulting his faith, and can pass by with equanimity, for he does these things in the name of a superstition of his own, foreign to me, and he does not interfere with what to me is holy. But when, with their barbarous superstitions, men (however numerous, however ancient their superstitions, and however powerful they may be) in the name of the God by whom I live, and of that teaching of Christ's which has given life to me and is capable of giving life to all men, preach gross sorcery, I cannot endure it pas- * Speech by Ambrosius, Bishop of Kharkof. — L. T. REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT 285 sively. And if I call what they are doing by its name, I only do my duty and what I cannot refrain from doing because I believe in God and in the Christian teaching. If they call the exposure of their imposture 1 blasphemy/ that only shows the strength of their deception, and should increase the efforts to destroy this deception, made by those who believe in God and in Christ's teaching, and who see that this deception hides the true God from men's sight. They should say of Christ — who drove bulls and sheep and dealers from the temple— that he blasphemed. Were he to come now, and see what is done in his name in church, he would surely, with yet greater and most just anger, throw out all these horrible altar- cloths, * lances, crosses, and cups and candles and icons and all the things wherewith the priests— carrying on their sorcery — hide God and his truth from mankind. So that is what is true and what is untrue in the Synod's Edict about me. I certainly do not believe in what they say they believe in. But I believe in much they wish to persuade people that I dis- believe in. I believe in this : I believe in God, whom I understand as Spirit, as Love, as the Source of all. I believe that he is in me and I in him. I believe that the will of God is most clearly and intelligibly expressed in the teaching of the man Jesus, whom to consider as God, and pray to, I esteem the greatest blasphemy. I believe that man's true welfare lies in fulfilling God's will, and his will is that men should love one another, and should consequently do to others as they wish others to do to them — of which it is said in the Gospels that in this is the law and the prophets. I believe, therefore, that the meaning of the life of every man is to be found only in increasing the love that is in him ; * The altar-cloths referred to are those containing frag- ments of holy relics, on which alone mass can be celebrated. The ' lances ' are diminutive ones with which the priest cuts bits out of the holy bread, in remembrance of the lance that pierced Christ's side. 286 ESSAYS AND LETTERS that this increase of love leads man, even in this life, to ever greater and greater blessedness, and after death gives him the more blessedness the more love he has, and helps more than anything else towards the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth : that is, to the establishment of an order of life in which the discord, deception and violence that now rule will be replaced by free accord, by truth, and by the brotherly love of one for another. I believe that to obtain pro- gress in love there is only one means : prayer — not public prayer in churches, plainly forbidden by Jesus,* but private prayer, like the sample given them by Jesus, consisting of the renewing and strengthening, in their consciousness, of the meaning of life and of their dependence solely on the will of God. Whether these beliefs of mine offend, grieve, or prove a stumbling-block to anyone, or hinder anything, or give displeasure to anybody, or not, I can as little change them as I can change my body. I must myself live my own life, and I must myself alone meet death (and that very soon), and therefore I cannot believe otherwise than as I— preparing to go to that God from whom I came — do believe. I do not believe my faith to be the one indubitable truth for all time, but I see no other that is plainer, clearer, or answers better to all the demands of my reason and my heart ; should I find such a one, I shall at once accept it ; for God requires nothing but the truth. But I can no more return to * ' And when ye pray, ye shall not be as the hypocrites : for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have received their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thine inner chamber, and having shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall recompense thee. And in praying use not vain repe- titions, as the Gentiles do : for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not therefore like unto them : for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him. After this manner therefore pray ye : Our Father,' etc. — Matt. vi. 5-13. REPLY TO THE SYNOD'S EDICT 287 that from which, with such suffering, I have escaped, than a flying bird can re-enter the eggshell from which it has emerged. r He who begins by loving Christianity better than truth, will proceed by loving his own sect or church better than Christianity, and end in loving himself (his own peace) better than all,' said Coleridge. I travelled the contrary way. I began by loving my Orthodox faith more than my peace, then I loved Christianity more than my Church, and now I love truth more than anything in the world. And up to now, truth, for me, corresponds with Christianity as 1 understand it. And I hold to this Christianity ; and to the degree in which I hold to it I live peacefully and happily, and peacefully and happily approach death. [April 4, o.s., 1901.] XXIII WHAT IS RELIGION, AND WHEREIN LIES ITS ESSENCE ? In all human societies, at certain periods of their exist- ence, a time has come when religion has first swerved from its original purpose, then, diverging more and more, it has lost sight of that purpose, and has finally petrified into fixed forms, so that its influence on men's lives has become ever less and less. At such times the educated minority cease to believe in the established religious teaching, and only pretend to hold it because they think it necessary to do so in order to keep the mass of the people to the established order of life ; but the mass of the people, though by inertia they keep to the established forms of religion, no longer guide their lives by its demands, but guide them only by custom and by the State laws. That is what has repeatedly occurred in various human societies. But what is now happening in our Christian society has never happened before. It never before happened that the rich, ruling, and more educated minority, which has the most influence on the masses, not only disbelieved the existing religion, but was convinced that no religion at all is any longer needed, and, instead of influencing those who are doubtful of the truth of the generally professed religion to accept some religious teaching more rational and clear than the prevalent one, influenced them to regard religion in general as a thing that has [ 288 ] WHAT IS RELIGION? 289 outlived its day, and is now not merely a useless, but even a harmful, social organ, like the vermiform appendix in the human body. Religion is regarded by such men, not as something known to us by inward experience, but as an external phenomenon— a disease, as it were, which overtakes certain people, and which we can only investigate by its external symptoms. Religion, in the opinion of some of these men, arose from attributing a spirit to various aspects of Nature (animism) ; in the opinion of others, it arose from the supposed possibility of communicating with deceased ancestors ; in the opinion of others, again, it arose from fear of the forces of Nature. But, say the learned men of our day, since science has now proved that trees and stones cannot be endowed with a spirit ; that dead ancestors do not know what is done by the living ; and that the aspects of Nature are explainable by natural causes— it follows that the need for religion has passed, as well as the need for all those restrictions with which, (in consequence of religious beliefs) people have hitherto hampered themselves. In the opinion of these learned men there was a period of ignorance : the religious period. That has long been outlived by humanity, though some occasional atavistic indications of it still remain. Then came the metaphysical period, which is now also outlived. But we, enlightened people, are living in a scientific period : a period of positive science which replaces religion and will bring humanity to a height of development it could never have reached while subject to the superstitious teachings of religion. Early in 1901 the distinguished French savant Berthelot delivered a speech* in which he told his hearers that the day of religion has passed and religion must now be replaced by science. I refer to this speech because it is the first to my hand, and because it was delivered in the metropolis of the educated world by a universally recognised savant. But the same * See the Revue de Paris, January, 1901. T 290 ESSAYS AND LETTERS thought is continually and ubiquitously expressed in every form, from philosophic treatises down to news- paper feuilletons. M. Berthelot says in that speech, that there were formerly two motors moving humanity : Force and Religion ; but that these motors have now become superfluous, for in their place we have science. By science M. Berthelot (like all devotees of science) evidently means a science embracing the whole range of things man knows, harmoniously united, co-ordi- nated, and in command of such methods that the data it obtains are unquestionably true. But as no such science really exists — and what is now called science consists of a collection of haphazard, disconnected scraps of knowledge, many of them quite useless, and such as, instead of supplying undoubted truth, very frequently supply the grossest delusions, exhibited as truth to-day, but refuted to-morrow — it is evident that the thing M. Berthelot thinks must replace religion is something non-existent. Consequently the assertion made by M. Berthelot and by those who agree with him, to the effect that science will replace religion, is quite arbitrary, and rests on a quite unjustifiable faith in the infallibility of science — a faith similar to the belief in an infallible Church. Yet men who are said to be, and who consider them- selves to be, educated, are quite convinced that a science already exists which should and can replace religion, and which even has already replaced it. e Religion is obsolete : belief in anything but science is ignorance. Science will arrange all that is needful, and one must be guided in life by science alone.' This is what is thought and said both by scientists them- selves and also by those men of the crowd who, though far from scientific, believe in the scientists and join them in asserting that religion is an obsolete supersti- tion, and that we must be guided in life by science only : that is, in reality, by nothing at all ; for science, by reason of its very aim (which is to study all that exists), can afford no guidance for the life of man. WHAT IS RELIGION ? 291 The learned men of our times have decided that religion is not wanted, and that science will replace it, or has already done so ; but the fact remains that, now as formerly, no human society and no rational man has existed or can exist without a religion. I use the term rational man because an irrational man may live, as the beasts do, without a religion. But a rational man cannot live without one ; for only religion gives a rational man the guidance he needs, telling him what he should do, and what first and what next. A rational man cannot live without religion, precisely because reason is characteristic of his nature. Every animal is guided in its actions (apart from those to which it is impelled by the need to satisfy its immediate desires) by a consideration of the direct results of its actions. Having considered those results by such means of com- prehension as it possesses, an animal makes its actions conform to those consequences, and it always unhesita- tingly acts in one and the same way, in accord with those considerations. A bee, for instance, flies for honey and stores it in the hive because in winter it will need food for itself and for the young, and beyond these considerations it knows, and can know, nothing. So also a bird is influenced when it builds its nest, or migrates from the north to the south and back again. Every animal acts in a like way when it does anything not resulting from direct, immediate necessity, but prompted by considerations of anticipated results. With man, however, it is not so. The difference between a man and an animal lies in the fact that the perceptive capacities possessed by an animal are limited to what we call instinct, whereas man's fundamental perceptive capacity is reason. A bee, collecting honey, can have no doubts as to whether it is good or bad to collect honey ; but a man gathering in his corn or fruit cannot but consider whether he is diminishing the prospects of obtaining future harvests, and whether he is not depriving his neighbour of food. Nor can he t 2 292 ESSAYS AND LETTERS help wondering what the children whom he now feeds will become like — and much else. The most important questions of conduct in life cannot be solved con- clusively by a reasonable man, just because there is such a superabundance of possible consequences which he cannot but be aware of. Every rational man knows, or at least feels, that in the most important questions of life he can guide himself neither by personal impulses, nor by considerations of the immediate consequences of his activity — for the consequences he foresees are too numerous and too various, and are often contradic- tory one to another, being as likely to prove harmful as beneficial to himself and to other people. There is a legend which tells of an angel who descended to earth and, entering a devout family, slew a child in its cradle ; when asked why he did so, he explained that the child would have become the greatest of male- factors, and would have destroyed the happiness of the family. But it is thus not only with the question, Which human lives are useful, useless, or harmful? None of the most important questions of life can a reasonable man decide by considerations of their immediate results and consequences. A reasonable man cannot be satisfied with the considerations that guide the actions of an animal. A man may regard himself as an animal among animals — living for the passing day ; or he may consider himself as a member of a family, a society, or a nation, living for centuries ; or he may, and even must necessarily (for reason irre- sistibly prompts him to this) consider himself as part of the whole infinite universe existing eternally. And therefore reasonable men should do, and always have done, in reference to the infinitely small affairs of life affecting their actions, what in mathematics is called integrate : that is to say, they must set up, besides their relation to the immediate facts of life, a relation to the whole immense Infinite in time and space, conceived as one whole. And such establishment of man's relation to that whole of which he feels himself to be a part, from which he draws guidance for his actions, is what WHAT IS RELIGION ? 293 has been called, and is called, Religion. And there- fore religion always has been, and cannot cease to be, a necessary and an indispensable condition of the life of a reasonable man and of all reasonable humanity. That is how religion has always been understood by men who were not devoid of the highest (that is, re- ligious) consciousness, which distinguishes man from the beasts. The word religion itself comes either from relegere, religens, revering the Gods ; or, as has been commonly supposed, from religare, to bind (in obligation to the higher powers). The oldest and most common definition of religion is that religion is the link between man and God, ' Les obligations de Vhomme enver Dieu : voild la religion 3 (Man's obligations to God : that is religion) says Vauvenargues.* A similar meaning is given to religion by Schleiermachert and by Feuerbach,J who acknowledge the basis of religion to be mans consciousness of his dependence on God. f La religion est une affaire entre chaque homme et Dieu ' (Religion is a matter between each man and God). — Bayle.§ c La religion est le resultat des besoins de fame et des effets de I 9 intelligence ' (Religion is the outcome of the needs of the soul and of the effects of intelligence). — B. Con- stant. || 'Religion is a particular means by which man * Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de Vauvenargues (1715-1747), author of Introduction a la Connaissance de V Esprit humain, and of Reflexions and Maximes. f Friedrich E. D. Schleiermacher (1768-1834), author of Der Christliche Glaube and many other theological works. \ L. A. Feuerbach (1804-1872), author of Das Wesen des Ohristenthums (which was translated into English by George Eliot). § Pierre Bayle (1647-1706), author of the Dictionnaire historique et critique, which exercised a great influence, especially on the Continent, during the eighteenth century. || Henri Benjamin Constant de Rtbeoue (1767-1830), politician, and author of De la Religion. 294 ESSAYS AND LETTERS realizes his relation with the superhuman and mysterious forces on which he conside?'s himself dependent.' — Goblet cPAlviella.* i Religion is a definition of human life, based on the connection between the human soul and that mysterious spirit whose dominion over the world and over himself man recognises, and with which he feels himself united.' — A. Reville.f So that the essence of religion has always been understood— and is now understood by men not de- prived of the highest human characteristic — to be the establishment by man of a relation between himself and the infinite Being or Beings, whose power he feels over him. And this relation — however different it may be for different nations and at different times— has always defined for men their destiny in the world ; from which guidance for their conduct has naturally flowed. A Jew understood his relation to the Infinite to be, that he was a member of a nation chosen by God from among all nations, and that he had therefore to observe in the sight of God the agreement made by God with this people. A Greek understood his relation to be, that, being dependent on the representatives of eternity — i.e., on the Gods — he ought to do what pleased them. A Brahman understands himself to be a manifestation of the infinite Brahma, and considers that he ought, by renunciation of life, to strive towards union with that highest being. A Buddhist considered, and considers, his relation to the Infinite to be : that, passing from one form of life* to another, he inevitably suffers ; and these sufferings proceed from passions and desires, and therefore his business is to strive to anni- hilate all passions and all desires, and so pass into Nirvana. Every religion is the setting up, between man and the infinite life to which he feels himself allied, of some relation from which he obtains guidance for his conduct. And, therefore, if a religion does not * Eugene Goblet, Corate d'Alviella (1846- ), author of Evolution religieuse contemporainc and other works. + A. Reville (1826- ), Protestant theologian of the advanced school, author of many works on religion. WHAT IS RELIGION? 295 establish any relation between man and t) : fnfinite (as, for instance, is the case with idolatry 01 -orcery), then it is not a real religion, but only a degeneration. If, even, religion establishes some relation between man and God, but does this by means of assertions not accordant with reason and present-day knowledge, so that one cannot really believe the assertions — that also is not a religion, but only a counterfeit. If a religion does not unite the life of man with the infinite life, again it is not a religion. Nor does a belief in proposi- tions from which no definite direction for human activity results constitute a religion. True religion is a relation, accordant with reason and knowledge, which man establishes with the infinite life surrounding him, and it is such as binds his life to that infinity, and guides his conduct. Though there never was an age when, or a place where, men lived without a religion, yet the learned men of to-day say, like Moliere's * Involuntary Doctor ' who asserted that the liver is on the left side : Nous avons change tout cela (We have changed all that) ; and they think that we can and should live without any religion. But, nevertheless, religion remains what it has been in the past : the chief motor and heart of human societies ; and without it, as without a heart, huma^i life is impossible. There have been, and there are, many different religions — for the expression of man's relation to the Infinite and to God, or to the Gods, differs at different times and in different places, according to the stages of development of different nations — but never in any society of men, since men first became rational creatures, could they live, or have they lived, without a religion. It is true that there have been, and sometimes are, periods in the life of nations when the existing religion has been so perverted and has lagged so far behind life as to cease to guide it. But this cessation of its action on men's lives (occurring at times in all religions) has 296 ESSAYS AND LETTERS been but temporary. It is characteristic of religion — as of all that is really alive — that it is born, develops, grows old, dies and again comes to life, and comes to life ever in forms more perfect than before. After a period of higher development in religion, a period of decrepitude and lifelessness always follows, to be usually succeeded in its turn by a period of regenera- tion, and the establishment of a religious doctrine wiser and clearer than before. Such periods of develop- ment, decrepitude, and regeneration have occurred in all religions. In the profound religion of Brahmanism, as soon as it began to grow old and to petrify into fixed and coarse forms not suited to it9 fundamental meaning, came on one side a renascence of Brah- manism itself, and on the other the lofty teachings of Buddhism, which advanced humanity's comprehension of its relation to the Infinite. A similar decline occurred in the Greek and Roman religions, and then, following the lowest depths of that decline, appeared Christianity. The same thing occurred again with Church-Christianity, which in Byzantium degenerated into idfolatry and polytheism. To counterbalance this perverted Christianity there arose, on one hand, the Paulicians,* and on the other (in opposition to the doc- trine of the Trinity and to Mariolatry) came strict Mohammedanism with its fundamental dogma of One God. The same thing happened again with Papal Mediaeval Christianity, which evoked the Reforma- tion, so that periods when religion weakens in its influence on the majority of men are a necessary con- dition of the life and development of all religious teachings. This occurs because every religious teach- ing in its true meaning, however crude it may be, always establishes a relation between man and the Infinite, which is alike for all men. Every religion regards men as equally insignificant compared to * The Paulicians were a sect who played a great part in the history of the Eastern Church (seventh to twelfth centuries). They rejected the Church view of Christ's teaching, and were cruelly persecuted. WHAT IS RELIGION ? 297 Infinity ; and therefore every religion contains the conception of the equality of all men before that which it regards as God : whether that be lightning, wind, a tree, an animal, a hero, or a deceased — or even a living — king (as occurred in Rome). So that the admission of the equality of man, is an inevitable and fundamental characteristic of every religion. But as equality among men never has existed anywhere in actual life, and does not now exist, it has happened that as soon as a new religious teaching appeared (always including a confession of equality among all men*) then at once those people for whom inequality was profitable tried to hide this essential feature by perverting the teaching itself. So it has happened always, wherever a new religious teaching appeared. And this has been done for the most part not con- sciously, but merely because those to whom inequality was profitable — the rulers and the rich — in order to feel themselves justified by the teaching without having to alter their position, have tried by all means to fasten upon the religious teaching an interpretation sanctioning inequality. And, naturally, a religion so perverted that those who lorded it over others could consider themselves justified in so doing — when passed on to the common people, instilled into them also the idea that submission to those who exercise authority is demanded by the religion they profess. All human activity is evoked by three motive causes : Feeling, Reason, and Suggestion, the last-named being the same thing that doctors call hypnotism. Some- times man acts only under the influence of feeling — simply striving to get what he desires. Sometimes he acts solely under the influence of reason, which shows * That is to say that all are equal in the sight of God ; that human laws and customs should give them an equal right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ; and that men should treat one another as brothers. 298 ESSAYS AND LETTERS him what he ought to do. Sometimes, and most fre- quently, man acts because he himself has, or other people have, suggested an activity to him, and he un- consciously submits to the suggestion. Under normal conditions of life all three influences play their part in prompting a man's activity. Feeling draws him towards a certain activity ; reason judges of this activity in the light of present circumstances, as well as by past experience and future expectation ; and suggestion causes a man, apart from feeling and reason, to carry out the actions evoked by feeling and approved by reason. Were there no feeling, man would under- take nothing ; if reason did not exist, man would yield at once to many contradictory feelings, harmful to him- self and to others ; were there no capacity of yielding to one's own or other people's suggestion, man would have unceasingly to experience the feeling that promp- ted him to a particular activity, and to keep his reason continually intent on the verification of the expediency of that feeling. And, therefore, all these three in- fluences are indispensable for even the simplest human activity. If a man walks from one place to another, this occurs because feeling has impelled him to move from one place to another ; reason has approved of this intention and dictated means for its accomplishment (in this case — stepping along a certain road), and the muscles of the body obey, and the man moves along the road indicated. While he is going along, both his feeling and his reason are freed for other activity, which could not be the case but for his capacity to submit to suggestion. This is what happens with all human activities, and among the rest with the most important of them : religious activity. Feeling evokes the need to establish a man's relation to God ; reason defines that relation ; and suggestion impels man to the activity flowing from that relation. But this is so, only as long as religion remains unperverted. As soon as perversion commences, the part played by suggestion grows ever stronger and stronger, and the activity of feeling and of reason weakens. The methods of suggestion are WHAT IS RELIGION ? 299 always and everywhere the same. They consist in taking advantage of man at times when he is most sus- ceptible to suggestion (during childhood, and at impor- tant occurrences of life : deaths, births, or marriages), and then acting on him by means of art : architecture, sculpture, painting, music, and dramatic performances, and, while he is in a condition of receptivity (com- parable to that produced on individuals by semi- hypnotization), instilling into him whatever the suggestors wish. This process may be observed in all ancient religions : in the lofty religion of Brahmanism degenerating into gross idolatry of multitudinous images in various temples, accompanied by singing and the smoke of incense ; in the ancient Hebrew religion preached by the prophets, changing into a worship of God in a gorgeous temple with ostentatious songs and proces- sions ; in the lofty religion of Buddhism, transforming itself — with its monasteries and images of Buddhaand in- numerable ostentatious rites — into impenetrable Lama- ism ; and in Taoism with its sorcery and incantations. Always, in all religious teachings when they began to be perverted, their guardians, having brought men into a state in which their reason acted but feebly, employed every effort to suggest, and instil into men, whatever they wished them to believe. And in all religions it was found necessary to suggest the same three things, which serve as a basis for all the perversions to which a degenerating religion is exposed. First, it is suggested that there are men of a particular kind, who alone can act as intermediaries between man and God (or the Gods) ; secondly, that miracles have been, and are, per- formed, proving and confirming the truth of what is told by these intermediaries between man and God ; and thirdly, that there are certain words — repeated verbally, or written in books — which express the un- alterable will of God (or of the Gods), and which are therefore sacred and infallible. And as soon as, under the influence of hypnotism, these propositions are accepted, then also all that the intermediaries between 300 ESSAYS AND LETTERS man and God say, is also accepted as sacred truth, and the chief aim of the perversion of religion is attained, namely : the concealment of the law of human equality, and even the establishment and assertion of the greatest inequality ; the separation into castes, the separation into chosen people and Gentiles, into orthodox and heretics, saints and sinners. This very thing has occurred and is occurring in Christianity : complete inequality among men has been admitted, and they are divided, not only, with reference to their comprehen- sion of the teaching, into clerics and laity, but, with reference to social position, into those who have power and those who ought to submit to power — which, in accord with the teaching of Paul, is acknowledged as having been ordained of God. Inequality among men, not only as clergy and laity, but also as rich and poor, masters and slaves, is estab- lished f by the Church-Christian religion as definitely and glaringly as by other religions. Yet, judging by what we know of Christian teaching in its earliest form in the Gospels, it would seem that the chief methods of perversion made use of in other religions had been fore- seen, and a clear warning against them had been uttered. Against a priestly caste, it was plainly said that no man may be the teacher of another (' Call no man your father — neither be ye called masters '). Against attributing sanctity to books it was said, that the spirit is important, but not the letter, that man should not believe in human traditions, and that all the law and the prophets (that is, all the books regarded as sacred writing) amount only to this, that we should do to others as we wish them to do to us. If nothing is said against miracles, and if in the Gospels themselves miracles are described which Jesus is supposed to have performed, it is, nevertheless, evident from the whole spirit of the teaching, that Jesus based the proof of the validity of his doctrine, not on miracles, but on the WHAT IS RELIGION? SOI merits of the teaching itself. (' If any man willeth to do his will, he shall know of the teaching, whether it be of God, or whether I speak from myself/) And, above all, Christianity proclaims the equality of men, no longer merely as a deduction from man's relation to the infinite, but as a basic doctrine of the brotherhood of all men, resulting from their being acknowledged as sons of God. It seems, therefore, as though it should have been impossible to pervert Christianity so as to destroy the consciousness of equality among men. But the human mind is subtle, and (perhaps unconsciously or semi- consciously)