Resurrection - Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (interesting novels in english .TXT) 📗
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the laws,” said the Englishman.
Nekhludoff translated the question. The old man laughed in a
strange manner, showing his teeth.
“The laws?” he repeated with contempt. “He first robbed
everybody, took all the earth, all the rights away from men,
killed all those who were against him, and then wrote laws,
forbidding robbery and murder. He should have written these laws
before.”
Nekhludoff translated. The Englishman smiled. “Well, anyhow, ask
him how one should treat thieves and murderers at present?”
Nekhludoff again translated his question.
“Tell him he should take the seal of Antichrist off himself,” the
old man said, frowning severely; “then there will he no thieves
and murderers. Tell him so.”
“He is crazy,” said the Englishman, when Nekhludoff had
translated the old man’s words, and, shrugging his shoulders, he
left the cell.
“Do thy business and leave them alone. Every one for himself. God
knows whom to execute, whom to forgive, and we do not know,” said
the old man. “Every man be his own chief, then the chiefs will
not be wanted. Go, go!” he added, angrily frowning and looking
with glittering eyes at Nekhludoff, who lingered in the cell.
“Hast thou not looked on long enough how the servants of
Antichrist feed lice on men? Go, go!”
When Nekhludoff went out he saw the Englishman standing by the
open door of an empty cell with the inspector, asking what the
cell was for. The inspector explained that it was the mortuary.
“Oh,” said the Englishman when Nekhludoff had translated, and
expressed the wish to go in.
The mortuary was an ordinary cell, not very large. A small lamp
hung on the wall and dimly lit up sacks and logs of wood that
were piled up in one corner, and four dead bodies lay on the
bedshelves to the right. The first body had a coarse linen shirt
and trousers on; it was that of a tall man with a small beard and
half his head shaved. The body was quite rigid; the bluish hands,
that had evidently been folded on the breast, had separated; the
legs were also apart and the bare feet were sticking out. Next to
him lay a barefooted old woman in a white petticoat, her head,
with its thin plait of hair, uncovered, with a little, pinched
yellow face and a sharp nose. Beyond her was another man with
something lilac on. This colour reminded Nekhludoff of something.
He came nearer and looked at the body. The small, pointed beard
sticking upwards, the firm, well-shaped nose, the high, white
forehead, the thin, curly hair; he recognised the familiar
features and could hardly believe his eyes. Yesterday he had seen
this face, angry, excited, and full of suffering; now it was
quiet, motionless, and terribly beautiful. Yes, it was Kryltzoff,
or at any rate the trace that his material existence had left
behind. “Why had he suffered? Why had he lived? Does he now
understand?” Nekhludoff thought, and there seemed to be no
answer, seemed to be nothing but death, and he felt faint.
Without taking leave of the Englishman, Nekhludoff asked the
inspector to lead him out into the yard, and feeling the absolute
necessity of being alone to think over all that had happened that
evening, he drove back to his hotel.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A NEW LIFE DAWNS FOR NEKHLUDOFF.
Nekhludoff did not go to bed, but went up and down his room for a
long time. His business with Katusha was at an end. He was not
wanted, and this made him sad and ashamed. His other business was
not only unfinished, but troubled him more than ever and demanded
his activity. All this horrible evil that he had seen and learned
to know lately, and especially to-day in that awful prison, this
evil, which had killed that dear Kryltzoff, ruled and was
triumphant, and he could foreseen possibility of conquering or
even knowing how to conquer it. Those hundreds and thousands of
degraded human beings locked up in the noisome prisons by
indifferent generals, procureurs, inspectors, rose up in his
imagination; he remembered the strange, free old man accusing the
officials, and therefore considered mad, and among the corpses
the beautiful, waxen face of Kryltzoff, who had died in anger.
And again the question as to whether he was mad or those who
considered they were in their right minds while they committed
all these deeds stood before him with renewed force and demanded
an answer.
Tired of pacing up and down, tired of thinking, he sat down on
the sofa near the lamp and mechanically opened the Testament
which the Englishman had given him as a remembrance, and which he
had thrown on the table when he emptied his pockets on coming in.
“It is said one can find an answer to everything here,” he
thought, and opened the Testament at random and began reading
Matt. xviii. 1-4: “In that hour came the disciples unto Jesus,
saying, Who then is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven? And He
called to Him a little child, and set him in the midst of them,
and said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye turn and become as
little children, ye shall in nowise enter into the Kingdom of
Heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little
child the same is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.”
“Yes, yes, that is true,” he said, remembering that he had known
the peace and joy of life only when he had humbled himself.
“And whosoever shall receive one such little child in My name
receiveth Me, but whoso shall cause one of these little ones to
stumble, it is more profitable for him that a great millstone
should be hanged about his neck and that he should be sunk in the
depths of the sea.” (Matt. xviii. 5, 6.)
“What is this for, ‘Whosoever shall receive?’ Receive where? And
what does ‘in my name’ mean?” he asked, feeling that these words
did not tell him anything. “And why ‘the millstone round his neck
and the depths of the sea?’ No, that is not it: it is not clear,”
and he remembered how more than once in his life he had taken to
reading the Gospels, and how want of clearness in these passages
had repulsed him. He went on to read the seventh, eighth, ninth,
and tenth verses about the occasions of stumbling, and that they
must come, and about punishment by casting men into hell fire,
and some kind of angels who see the face of the Father in Heaven.
“What a pity that this is so incoherent,” he thought, “yet one
feels that there is something good in it.”
“For the Son of Man came to save that which was lost,” he
continued to read.
“How think ye? If any man have a hundred sheep and one of them go
astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine and go into the
mountains and seek that which goeth astray? And if so be that he
find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth over it more than
over the ninety and nine which have not gone astray.
“Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in Heaven
that one of these little ones should perish.”
“Yes, it is not the will of the Father that they should perish,
and here they are perishing by hundreds and thousands. And there
is no possibility of saving them,” he thought.
“Then came Peter and said to him, How oft shall my brother offend
me and I forgive him? Until seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I
say not unto thee until seven times, but until seventy times
seven.
“Therefore is the Kingdom of Heaven likened unto a certain king
which made a reckoning with his servants. And when he had begun
to reckon, one was brought unto him which owed him ten thousand
talents. But forasmuch as he had not wherewith to pay, his lord
commanded him to be sold, and his wife and children, and all that
he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down
and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me; I will
pay thee all. And the lord of that servant, being moved with
compassion, released him and forgave him the debt. But that
servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants which owed
him a hundred pence; and he laid hold on him and took him by the
throat, saying, Pay what thou owest. So his fellow-servant fell
down and besought him, saying, Have patience with me and I will
pay thee. And he would not, but went and cast him into prison
till he should pay that which was due. So when his
fellow-servants saw what was done, they were exceeding sorry, and
came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord
called him unto him and saith to him, Thou wicked servant, I
forgave thee all that debt because thou besought me; shouldst not
thou also have mercy on thy fellow-servant as I had mercy on
thee?”
“And is this all?” Nekhludoff suddenly exclaimed aloud, and the
inner voice of the whole of his being said, “Yes, it is all.” And
it happened to Nekhludoff, as it often happens to men who are
living a spiritual life. The thought that seemed strange at first
and paradoxical or even to be only a joke, being confirmed more
and more often by life’s experience, suddenly appeared as the
simplest, truest certainty. In this way the idea that the only
certain means of salvation from the terrible evil from which men
were suffering was that they should always acknowledge themselves
to be sinning against God, and therefore unable to punish or
correct others, because they were dear to Him. It became clear to
him that all the dreadful evil he had been witnessing in prisons
and jails and the quiet self-satisfaction of the perpetrators of
this evil were the consequences of men trying to do what was
impossible; trying to correct evil while being evil themselves;
vicious men were trying to correct other vicious men, and thought
they could do it by using mechanical means, and the only
consequence of all this was that the needs and the cupidity of
some men induced them to take up this so-called punishment and
correction as a profession, and have themselves become utterly
corrupt, and go on unceasingly depraving those whom they torment.
Now he saw clearly what all the terrors he had seen came from,
and what ought to be done to put a stop to them. The answer he
could not find was the same that Christ gave to Peter. It was
that we should forgive always an infinite number of times because
there are no men who have not sinned themselves, and therefore
none can punish or correct others.
“But surely it cannot he so simple,” thought Nekhludoff, and yet
he saw with certainty, strange as it had seemed at first, that it
was not only a theoretical but also a practical solution of the
question. The usual objection, “What is one to do with the evil
doers? Surely not let them go unpunished?” no longer confused
him. This objection might have a meaning if it were proved that
punishment lessened crime, or improved the criminal, but when the
contrary was proved, and it was evident that it was not in
people’s power to correct each other, the only reasonable thing
to do is to leave off doing the things which are not only
useless, but harmful, immoral and cruel.
For many centuries people who were considered criminals have been
tortured. Well, and have they ceased to exist? No; their numbers
have
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