Resurrection - Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (interesting novels in english .TXT) 📗
- Author: Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy
- Performer: -
Book online «Resurrection - Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (interesting novels in english .TXT) 📗». Author Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy
drive out devils and cure people by laying his hands on them,
should talk in strange tongues, should take up serpents, and if
he drank poison should not die, but remain well.
The essence of the service consisted in the supposition that the
bits cut up by the priest and put by him into the wine, when
manipulated and prayed over in a certain way, turned into the
flesh and blood of God.
These manipulations consisted in the priest’s regularly lifting
and holding up his arms, though hampered by the gold cloth sack
he had on, then, sinking on to his knees and kissing the table
and all that was on it, but chiefly in his taking a cloth by two
of its corners and waving it regularly and softly over the silver
saucer and golden cup. It was supposed that, at this point, the
bread and the wine turned into flesh and blood; therefore, this
part of the service was performed with the greatest solemnity.
“Now, to the blessed, most pure, and most holy Mother of God,”
the priest cried from the golden partition which divided part of
the church from the rest, and the choir began solemnly to sing
that it was very right to glorify the Virgin Mary, who had borne
Christ without losing her virginity, and was therefore worthy of
greater honour than some kind of cherubim, and greater glory than
some kind of seraphim. After this the transformation was
considered accomplished, and the priest having taken the napkin
off the saucer, cut the middle bit of bread in four, and put it
into the wine, and then into his mouth. He was supposed to have
eaten a bit of God’s flesh and swallowed a little of His blood.
Then the priest drew a curtain, opened the middle door in the
partition, and, taking the gold cup in his hands, came out of the
door, inviting those who wished to do so also to come and eat
some of God’s flesh and blood that was contained in the cup. A
few children appeared to wish to do so.
After having asked the children their names, the priest carefully
took out of the cup, with a spoon, and shoved a bit of bread
soaked in wine deep into the mouth of each child in turn, and the
deacon, while wiping the children’s mouths, sang, in a merry
voice, that the children were eating the flesh and drinking the
blood of God. After this the priest carried the cup back behind
the partition, and there drank all the remaining blood and ate up
all the bits of flesh, and after having carefully sucked his
moustaches and wiped his mouth, he stepped briskly from behind
the partition, the soles of his calfskin boots creaking. The
principal part of this Christian service was now finished, but
the priest, wishing to comfort the unfortunate prisoners, added
to the ordinary service another. This consisted of his going up
to the gilt hammered-out image (with black face and hands)
supposed to represent the very God he had been eating,
illuminated by a dozen wax candles, and proceeding, in a strange,
discordant voice, to hum or sing the following words:
“Jesu sweetest, glorified of the Apostles, Jesu lauded by the
martyrs, almighty Monarch, save me, Jesu my Saviour. Jesu, most
beautiful, have mercy on him who cries to Thee, Saviour Jesu.
Born of prayer Jesu, all thy saints, all thy prophets, save and
find them worthy of the joys of heaven. Jesu, lover of men.”
Then he stopped, drew breath, crossed himself, bowed to the
ground, and every one did the same—the inspector, the warders,
the prisoners; and from above the clinking of the chains sounded
more unintermittently. Then he continued: “Of angels the Creator
and Lord of powers, Jesu most wonderful, the angels’ amazement,
Jesu most powerful, of our forefathers the Redeemer. Jesu
sweetest, of patriarchs the praise. Jesu most glorious, of kings
the strength. Jesu most good, of prophets the fulfilment. Jesu
most amazing, of martyrs the strength. Jesu most humble, of monks
the joy. Jesu most merciful, of priests the sweetness. Jesu most
charitable, of the fasting the continence. Jesu most sweet, of
the just the joy. Jesu most pure, of the celibates the chastity.
Jesu before all ages of sinners the salvation. Jesu, son of God,
have mercy on me.”
Every time he repeated the word “Jesu” his voice became more and
more wheezy. At last he came to a stop, and holding up his
silk-lined cassock, and kneeling down on one knee, he stooped
down to the ground and the choir began to sing, repeating the
words, “Jesu, Son of God, have mercy on me,” and the convicts
fell down and rose again, shaking back the hair that was left on
their heads, and rattling with the chains that were bruising
their thin ankles.
This continued for a long time. First came the glorification,
which ended with the words, “Have mercy on me.” Then more
glorifications, ending with “Alleluia!” And the convicts made the
sign of the cross, and bowed, first at each sentence, then after
every two and then after three, and all were very glad when the
glorification ended, and the priest shut the book with a sigh of
relief and retired behind the partition. One last act remained.
The priest took a large, gilt cross, with enamel medallions at
the ends, from a table, and came out into the centre of the
church with it. First the inspector came up and kissed the cross,
then the jailers, then the convicts, pushing and abusing each
other in whispers. The priest, talking to the inspector, pushed
the cross and his hand now against the mouths and now against the
noses of the convicts, who were trying to kiss both the cross and
the hand of the priest. And thus ended the Christian service,
intended for the comfort and the teaching of these strayed
brothers.
CHAPTER XL.
THE HUSKS OF RELIGION.
And none of those present, from the inspector down to Maslova,
seemed conscious of the fact that this Jesus, whose name the
priest repeated such a great number of times, and whom he praised
with all these curious expressions, had forbidden the very things
that were being done there; that He had prohibited not only this
meaningless much-speaking and the blasphemous incantation over
the bread and wine, but had also, in the clearest words,
forbidden men to call other men their master, and to pray in
temples; and had ordered that every one should pray in solitude,
had forbidden to erect temples, saying that He had come to
destroy them, and that one should worship, not in a temple, but
in spirit and in truth; and, above all, that He had forbidden not
only to judge, to imprison, to torment, to execute men, as was
being done here, but had prohibited any kind of violence, saying
that He had come to give freedom to the captives.
No one present seemed conscious that all that was going on here
was the greatest blasphemy and a supreme mockery of that same
Christ in whose name it was being done. No one seemed to realise
that the gilt cross with the enamel medallions at the ends, which
the priest held out to the people to be kissed, was nothing but
the emblem of that gallows on which Christ had been executed for
denouncing just what was going on here. That these priests, who
imagined they were eating and drinking the body and blood of
Christ in the form of bread and wine, did in reality eat and
drink His flesh and His blood, but not as wine and bits of bread,
but by ensnaring “these little ones” with whom He identified
Himself, by depriving them of the greatest blessings and
submitting them to most cruel torments, and by hiding from men
the tidings of great joy which He had brought. That thought did
not enter into the mind of any one present.
The priest did his part with a quiet conscience, because he was
brought up from childhood to consider that the only true faith
was the faith which had been held by all the holy men of olden
times and was still held by the Church, and demanded by the State
authorities. He did not believe that the bread turned into flesh,
that it was useful for the soul to repeat so many words, or that
he had actually swallowed a bit of God. No one could believe
this, but he believed that one ought to hold this faith. What
strengthened him most in this faith was the fact that, for
fulfilling the demands of this faith, he had for the last 15
years been able to draw an income, which enabled him to keep his
family, send his son to a gymnasium and his daughter to a school
for the daughters of the clergy. The deacon believed in the same
manner, and even more firmly than the priest, for he had
forgotten the substance of the dogmas of this faith, and knew
only that the prayers for the dead, the masses, with and without
the acathistus, all had a definite price, which real Christians
readily paid, and, therefore, he called out his “have mercy, have
mercy,” very willingly, and read and said what was appointed,
with the same quiet certainty of its being necessary to do so
with which other men sell faggots, flour, or potatoes. The prison
inspector and the warders, though they had never understood or
gone into the meaning of these dogmas and of all that went on in
church, believed that they must believe, because the higher
authorities and the Tsar himself believed in it. Besides, though
faintly (and themselves unable to explain why), they felt that
this faith defended their cruel occupations. If this faith did
not exist it would have been more difficult, perhaps impossible,
for them to use all their powers to torment people, as they were
now doing, with a quiet conscience. The inspector was such a
kind-hearted man that he could not have lived as he was now
living unsupported by his faith. Therefore, he stood motionless,
bowed and crossed himself zealously, tried to feel touched when
the song about the cherubims was being sung, and when the
children received communion he lifted one of them, and held him
up to the priest with his own hands.
The great majority of the prisoners believed that there lay a
mystic power in these gilt images, these vestments, candles,
cups, crosses, and this repetition of incomprehensible words,
“Jesu sweetest” and “have mercy”—a power through which might be
obtained much convenience in this and in the future life. Only a
few clearly saw the deception that was practised on the people
who adhered to this faith, and laughed at it in their hearts; but
the majority, having made several attempts to get the
conveniences they desired, by means of prayers, masses, and
candles, and not having got them (their prayers remaining
unanswered), were each of them convinced that their want of
success was accidental, and that this organisation, approved by
the educated and by archbishops, is very important and necessary,
if not for this, at any rate for the next life.
Maslova also believed in this way. She felt, like the rest, a
mixed sensation of piety and dulness. She stood at first in a
crowd behind a railing, so that she could see no one but her
companions; but when those to receive communion moved on, she
and Theodosia stepped to the front, and they saw the inspector,
and, behind him, standing among the warders, a little peasant,
with a very light beard and fair hair. This was Theodosia’s
husband, and he was gazing with fixed eyes at his wife. During
the acathistus Maslova occupied
Comments (0)