The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky [children's books read aloud TXT] 📗

And what follows from this

right of multiplication of desires? In the rich, isolation and

spiritual suicide; in the poor, envy and murder; for they have been

given rights, but have not been shown the means of satisfying their

wants. They maintain that the world is getting more and more united,

more and more bound together in brotherly community, as it overcomes

distance and sets thoughts flying through the air.

 

Alas, put no faith in such a bond of union. Interpreting freedom

as the multiplication and rapid satisfaction of desires, men distort

their own nature, for many senseless and foolish desires and habits

and ridiculous fancies are fostered in them. They live only for mutual

envy, for luxury and ostentation. To have dinners visits, carriages,

rank, and slaves to wait on one is looked upon as a necessity, for

which life, honour and human feeling are sacrificed, and men even

commit suicide if they are unable to satisfy it. We see the same thing

among those who are not rich, while the poor drown their unsatisfied

need and their envy in drunkenness. But soon they will drink blood

instead of wine, they are being led on to it. I ask you is such a

man free? I knew one “champion of freedom” who told me himself that,

when he was deprived of tobacco in prison, he was so wretched at the

privation that he almost went and betrayed his cause for the sake of

getting tobacco again! And such a man says, “I am fighting for the

cause of humanity.”

 

How can such a one fight? What is he fit for? He is capable

perhaps of some action quickly over, but he cannot hold out long.

And it’s no wonder that instead of gaining freedom they have sunk into

slavery, and instead of serving, the cause of brotherly love and the

union of humanity have fallen, on the contrary, into dissension and

isolation, as my mysterious visitor and teacher said to me in my

youth. And therefore the idea of the service of humanity, of brotherly

love and the solidarity of mankind, is more and more dying out in

the world, and indeed this idea is sometimes treated with derision.

For how can a man shake off his habits? What can become of him if he

is in such bondage to the habit of satisfying the innumerable

desires he has created for himself? He is isolated, and what concern

has he with the rest of humanity? They have succeeded in

accumulating a greater mass of objects, but the joy in the world has

grown less.

 

The monastic way is very different. Obedience, fasting, and prayer

are laughed at, yet only through them lies the way to real, true

freedom. I cut off my superfluous and unnecessary desires, I subdue my

proud and wanton will and chastise it with obedience, and with God’s

help I attain freedom of spirit and with it spiritual joy. Which is

most capable of conceiving a great idea and serving it-the rich in

his isolation or the man who has freed himself from the tyranny of

material things and habits? The monk is reproached for his solitude,

“You have secluded yourself within the walls of the monastery for your

own salvation, and have forgotten the brotherly service of

humanity!” But we shall see which will be most zealous in the cause of

brotherly love. For it is not we, but they, who are in isolation,

though they don’t see that. Of old, leaders of the people came from

among us, and why should they not again? The same meek and humble

ascetics will rise up and go out to work for the great cause. The

salvation of Russia comes from the people. And the Russian monk has

always been on the side of the people. We are isolated only if the

people are isolated. The people believe as we do, and an unbelieving

reformer will never do anything in Russia, even if he is sincere in

heart and a genius. Remember that! The people will meet the atheist

and overcome him, and Russia will be one and orthodox. Take care of

the peasant and guard his heart. Go on educating him quietly. That’s

your duty as monks, for the peasant has God in his heart.

 

(f) Of Masters and Servants, and of whether it is

 

possible for them to be Brothers in the Spirit.

 

Of course, I don’t deny that there is sin in the peasants too. And

the fire of corruption is spreading visibly, hourly, working from

above downwards. The spirit of isolation is coming upon the people

too. Moneylenders and devourers of the commune are rising up. Already

the merchant grows more and more eager for rank, and strives to show

himself cultured though he has not a trace of culture, and to this end

meanly despises his old traditions, and is even ashamed of the faith

of his fathers. He visits princes, though he is only a peasant

corrupted. The peasants are rotting in drunkenness and cannot shake

off the habit. And what cruelty to their wives, to their children

even! All from drunkenness! I’ve seen in the factories children of

nine years old, frail, rickety, bent and already depraved. The

stuffy workshop, the din of machinery, work all day long, the vile

language and the drink, the drinkis that what a little child’s heart

needs? He needs sunshine, childish play, good examples all about

him, and at least a little love. There must be no more of this, monks,

no more torturing of children, rise up and preach that, make haste,

make haste!

 

But God will save Russia, for though the peasants are corrupted

and cannot renounce their filthy sin, yet they know it is cursed by

God and that they do wrong in sinning. So that our people still

believe in righteousness, have faith in God and weep tears of

devotion.

 

It is different with the upper classes. They, following science,

want to base justice on reason alone, but not with Christ, as

before, and they have already proclaimed that there is no crime,

that there is no sin. And that’s consistent, for if you have no God

what is the meaning of crime? In Europe the people are already

rising up against the rich with violence, and the leaders of the

people are everywhere leading them to bloodshed, and teaching them

that their wrath is righteous. But their “wrath is accursed, for it is

cruel.” But God will save Russia as He has saved her many times.

Salvation will come from the people, from their faith and their

meekness.

 

Fathers and teachers, watch over the people’s faith and this

will not be a dream. I’ve been struck all my life in our great

people by their dignity, their true and seemly dignity. I’ve seen it

myself, I can testify to it, I’ve seen it and marvelled at it, I’ve

seen it in spite of the degraded sins and poverty-stricken

appearance of our peasantry. They are not servile, and even after

two centuries of serfdom they are free in manner and bearing, yet

without insolence, and not revengeful and not envious. “You are rich

and noble, you are clever and talented, well, be so, God bless you.

I respect you, but I know that I too am a man. By the very fact that I

respect you without envy I prove my dignity as a man.”

 

In truth if they don’t say this (for they don’t know how to say

this yet), that is how they act. I have seen it myself, I have known

it myself, and, would you believe it, the poorer our Russian peasant

is, the more noticeable is that serene goodness, for the rich among

them are for the most part corrupted already, and much of that is

due to our carelessness and indifference. But God will save His

people, for Russia is great in her humility. I dream of seeing, and

seem to see clearly already, our future. It will come to pass that

even the most corrupt of our rich will end by being ashamed of his

riches before the poor, and the poor, seeing his humility, will

understand and give way before him, will respond joyfully and kindly

to his honourable shame. Believe me that it will end in that; things

are moving to that. Equality is to be found only in the spiritual

dignity of man, and that will only be understood among us. If we

were brothers, there would be fraternity, but before that they will

never agree about the division of wealth. We preserve the image of

Christ, and it will shine forth like a precious diamond to the whole

world. So may it be, so may it be!

 

Fathers and teachers, a touching incident befell me once. In my

wanderings I met in the town of K. my old orderly, Afanasy. It was

eight years since I had parted from him. He chanced to see me in the

marketplace, recognised me, ran up to me, and how delighted he was!

He simply pounced on me: “Master dear, is it you? Is it really you I

see?” He took me home with him.

 

He was no longer in the army, he was married and already had two

little children. He and his wife earned their living as

costermongers in the marketplace. His room was poor, but bright and

clean. He made me sit down, set the samovar, sent for his wife, as

though my appearance were a festival for them. He brought me his

children: “Bless them, Father.”

 

“Is it for me to bless them? I am only a humble monk. I will

pray for them. And for you, Afanasy Pavlovitch, I have prayed every

day since that day, for it all came from you,” said I. And I explained

that to him as well as I could. And what do you think? The man kept

gazing at me and could not believe that I, his former master, an

officer, was now before him in such a guise and position; it made

him shed tears.

 

“Why are you weeping?” said I, “better rejoice over me, dear

friend, whom I can never forget, for my path is a glad and joyful

one.”

 

He did not say much, but kept sighing and shaking his head over me

tenderly.

 

“What has become of your fortune?” he asked.

 

“I gave it to the monastery,” I answered; “we live in common.”

 

After tea I began saying good-bye, and suddenly he brought out

half a rouble as an offering to the monastery, and another half-rouble

I saw him thrusting hurriedly into my hand: “That’s for you in your

wanderings, it may be of use to you, Father.”

 

I took his half-rouble, bowed to him and his wife, and went out

rejoicing. And on my way I thought: “Here we are both now, he at

home and I on the road, sighing and shaking our heads, no doubt, and

yet smiling joyfully in the gladness of our hearts, remembering how

God brought about our meeting.”

 

I have never seen him again since then. I had been his master

and he my servant, but now when we exchanged a loving kiss with

softened hearts, there was a great human bond between us. I have

thought a great deal about that, and now what I think is this: Is it

so inconceivable that that grand and simplehearted unity might in due

time become universal among the Russian people? I believe that it will

come to pass and that the time is at hand.

 

And of servants I will add this: In old days when I was young I

was often angry with servants; “the cook had served something too hot,

the orderly had not brushed my clothes.” But what