diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/tecom10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tecom10.txt | 4796 |
1 files changed, 4796 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/tecom10.txt b/old/tecom10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8609483 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tecom10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4796 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Thoughts Evoked By The Census Of Moscow, by Tolstoi +#12 in our series by Lyof N. Tolstoi + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words +are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they +need about what they can legally do with the texts. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below, including for donations. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541 + + + +Title: The Moscow Census - From "What to do?" + +Author: Lyof N. Tolstoi + +Release Date: November, 2002 [Etext #3541] +[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule] +[The actual date this file first posted = 05/31/01] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Project Gutenberg's Thoughts Evoked By The Census Of Moscow, by Tolstoi +*********This file should be named tecom10.txt or tecom10.zip********** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, tecom11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tecom10a.txt + +This etext was produced by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk, +from the 1887 Thomas Y. Crowell edition. + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our books one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after +the official publication date. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our sites at: +http://gutenberg.net +http://promo.net/pg + + +Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement +can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext02 +or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext02 + +Or /etext01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release fifty new Etext +files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+ +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of 05/16/01 contributions are only being solicited from people in: +Connecticut, Louisiana, Maine, Missouri, Oklahoma, Colorado, +Delaware, Hawaii, Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Montana, Nebraska, +South Dakota, Texas, Vermont, Wyoming, South Carolina. + +We have filed in about 45 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, +additions to this list will be made and fund raising +will begin in the additional states. Please feel +free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork +to legally request donations in all 50 states. If +your state is not listed and you would like to know +if we have added it since the list you have, just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in +states where we are not yet registered, we know +of no prohibition against accepting donations +from donors in these states who approach us with +an offer to donate. + + +International donations are accepted, +but we don't know ANYTHING about how +to make them tax-deductible, or +even if they CAN be made deductible, +and don't have the staff to handle it +even if there are ways. + +All donations should be made to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541, +and has been approved as a 501(c)(3) organization by the US Internal +Revenue Service (IRS). Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum +extent permitted by law. As the requirements for other states are met, +additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the +additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +*** + + +Example command-line FTP session: + +ftp ftp.ibiblio.org +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext02, etc. +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this etext, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.05/20/01*END* +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + + + + + +Please be advised that David sent the two Moscow Census pieces to me +as one file, and that I split it into two, since some people have a +bit of trouble when we put two titles in one file. However, I did NOT +change the numbering of the footnotes, so they all appear at the end +of each file. + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk, +from the 1887 Thomas Y. Crowell edition. + + + + + +THE MOSCOW CENSUS--FROM "WHAT TO DO?" +by Count Lyof N. Tolstoi + + + + +Translated from the Russian by +Isabel F. Hapgood + + + + +THOUGHTS EVOKED BY THE CENSUS OF MOSCOW. [1884-1885.] + + + +And the people asked him, saying, What shall we do then? + +He answereth and saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let him +impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do +likewise--LUKE iii. 10. 11. + +Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust +doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: + +But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor +rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: + +For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. + +The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, +thy whole body shall be full of light. + +But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. +If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that +darkness! + +No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and +love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the +other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. + +Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye +shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye +shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than +raiment?--MATT. vi. 19-25. + +Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall +we drink? Or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? + +(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly +Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. + +But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all +these things shall be added unto you. + +Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take +thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the +evil thereof.--MATT. vi. 31-34. + +For it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a +rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.--MATT. xix. 24; MARK x. +25; LUKE xviii. 25. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +I had lived all my life out of town. When, in 1881, I went to live +in Moscow, the poverty of the town greatly surprised me. I am +familiar with poverty in the country; but city poverty was new and +incomprehensible to me. In Moscow it was impossible to pass along +the street without encountering beggars, and especially beggars who +are unlike those in the country. These beggars do not go about with +their pouches in the name of Christ, as country beggars are +accustomed to do, but these beggars are without the pouch and the +name of Christ. The Moscow beggars carry no pouches, and do not ask +for alms. Generally, when they meet or pass you, they merely try to +catch your eye; and, according to your look, they beg or refrain from +it. I know one such beggar who belongs to the gentry. The old man +walks slowly along, bending forward every time he sets his foot down. +When he meets you, he rests on one foot and makes you a kind of +salute. If you stop, he pulls off his hat with its cockade, and bows +and begs: if you do not halt, he pretends that that is merely his +way of walking, and he passes on, bending forward in like manner on +the other foot. He is a real Moscow beggar, a cultivated man. At +first I did not know why the Moscow beggars do not ask alms directly; +afterwards I came to understand why they do not beg, but still I did +not understand their position. + +Once, as I was passing through Afanasievskaya Lane, I saw a policeman +putting a ragged peasant, all swollen with dropsy, into a cab. I +inquired: "What is that for?" + +The policeman answered: "For asking alms." + +"Is that forbidden?" + +"Of course it is forbidden," replied the policeman. + +The sufferer from dropsy was driven off. I took another cab, and +followed him. I wanted to know whether it was true that begging alms +was prohibited and how it was prohibited. I could in no wise +understand how one man could be forbidden to ask alms of any other +man; and besides, I did not believe that it was prohibited, when +Moscow is full of beggars. I went to the station-house whither the +beggar had been taken. At a table in the station-house sat a man +with a sword and a pistol. I inquired: + +"For what was this peasant arrested?" + +The man with the sword and pistol gazed sternly at me, and said: + +"What business is it of yours?" + +But feeling conscious that it was necessary to offer me some +explanation, he added: + +"The authorities have ordered that all such persons are to be +arrested; of course it had to be done." + +I went out. The policeman who had brought the beggar was seated on +the window-sill in the ante-chamber, staring gloomily at a note-book. +I asked him: + +"Is it true that the poor are forbidden to ask alms in Christ's +name?" + +The policeman came to himself, stared at me, then did not exactly +frown, but apparently fell into a doze again, and said, as he sat on +the window-sill:- + +"The authorities have so ordered, which shows that it is necessary," +and betook himself once more to his note-book. I went out on the +porch, to the cab. + +"Well, how did it turn out? Have they arrested him?" asked the +cabman. The man was evidently interested in this affair also. + +"Yes," I answered. The cabman shook his head. "Why is it forbidden +here in Moscow to ask alms in Christ's name?" I inquired. + +"Who knows?" said the cabman. + +"How is this?" said I, "he is Christ's poor, and he is taken to the +station-house." + +"A stop has been put to that now, it is not allowed," said the cab- +driver. + +On several occasions afterwards, I saw policemen conducting beggars +to the station house, and then to the Yusupoff house of correction. +Once I encountered on the Myasnitzkaya a company of these beggars, +about thirty in number. In front of them and behind them marched +policemen. I inquired: "What for?"--"For asking alms." + +It turned out that all these beggars, several of whom you meet with +in every street in Moscow, and who stand in files near every church +during services, and especially during funeral services, are +forbidden to ask alms. + +But why are some of them caught and locked up somewhere, while others +are left alone? + +This I could not understand. Either there are among them legal and +illegal beggars, or there are so many of them that it is impossible +to apprehend them all; or do others assemble afresh when some are +removed? + +There are many varieties of beggars in Moscow: there are some who +live by this profession; there are also genuine poor people, who have +chanced upon Moscow in some manner or other, and who are really in +want. + +Among these poor people, there are many simple, common peasants, and +women in their peasant costume. I often met such people. Some of +them have fallen ill here, and on leaving the hospital they can +neither support themselves here, nor get away from Moscow. Some of +them, moreover, have indulged in dissipation (such was probably the +case of the dropsical man); some have not been ill, but are people +who have been burnt out of their houses, or old people, or women with +children; some, too, were perfectly healthy and able to work. These +perfectly healthy peasants who were engaged in begging, particularly +interested me. These healthy, peasant beggars, who were fit for +work, also interested me, because, from the date of my arrival in +Moscow, I had been in the habit of going to the Sparrow Hills with +two peasants, and sawing wood there for the sake of exercise. These +two peasants were just as poor as those whom I encountered on the +streets. One was Piotr, a soldier from Kaluga; the other Semyon, a +peasant from Vladimir. They possessed nothing except the wages of +their body and hands. And with these hands they earned, by dint of +very hard labor, from forty to forty-five kopeks a day, out of which +each of them was laying by savings, the Kaluga man for a fur coat, +the Vladimir man in order to get enough to return to his village. +Therefore, on meeting precisely such men in the streets, I took an +especial interest in them. + +Why did these men toil, while those others begged? + +On encountering a peasant of this stamp, I usually asked him how he +had come to that situation. Once I met a peasant with some gray in +his beard, but healthy. He begs. I ask him who is he, whence comes +he? He says that he came from Kaluga to get work. At first he found +employment chopping up old wood for use in stoves. He and his +comrade finished all the chopping which one householder had; then +they sought other work, but found none; his comrade had parted from +him, and for two weeks he himself had been struggling along; he had +spent all his money, he had no saw, and no axe, and no money to buy +anything. I gave him money for a saw, and told him of a place where +he could find work. I had already made arrangements with Piotr and +Semyon, that they should take an assistant, and they looked up a mate +for him. + +"See that you come. There is a great deal of work there." + +"I will come; why should I not come? Do you suppose I like to beg? +I can work." + +The peasant declares that he will come, and it seems to me that he is +not deceiving me, and that he intents to come. + +On the following day I go to my peasants, and inquire whether that +man has arrived. He has not been there; and in this way several men +deceived me. And those also deceived me who said that they only +required money for a ticket in order to return home, and who chanced +upon me again in the street a week later. Many of these I +recognized, and they recognized me, and sometimes, having forgotten +me, they repeated the same trick on me; and others, on catching sight +of me, beat a retreat. Thus I perceived, that in the ranks of this +class also deceivers existed. But these cheats were very pitiable +creatures: all of them were but half-clad, poverty-stricken, gaunt, +sickly men; they were the very people who really freeze to death, or +hang themselves, as we learn from the newspapers. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +When I mentioned this poverty of the town to inhabitants of the town, +they always said to me: "Oh, all that you have seen is nothing. You +ought to see the Khitroff market-place, and the lodging-houses for +the night there. There you would see a regular 'golden company.'" +{1} One jester told me that this was no longer a company, but a +GOLDEN REGIMENT: so greatly had their numbers increased. The jester +was right, but he would have been still more accurate if he had said +that these people now form in Moscow neither a company nor a +regiment, but an entire army, almost fifty thousand in number, I +think. [The old inhabitants, when they spoke to me about the poverty +in town, always referred to it with a certain satisfaction, as though +pluming themselves over me, because they knew it. I remember that +when I was in London, the old inhabitants there also rather boasted +when they spoke of the poverty of London. The case is the same with +us.] {2} + +And I wanted to have a sight of this poverty of which I had been +told. Several times I set out in the direction of the Khitroff +market-place, but on every occasion I began to feel uncomfortable and +ashamed. "Why am I going to gaze on the sufferings of people whom I +cannot help?" said one voice. "No, if you live here, and see all the +charms of city life, go and view this also," said another voice. In +December three years ago, therefore, on a cold and windy day, I +betook myself to that centre of poverty, the Khitroff market-place. +This was at four o'clock in the afternoon of a week-day. As I passed +through the Solyanka, I already began to see more and more people in +old garments which had not originally belonged to them, and in still +stranger foot-gear, people with a peculiar, unhealthy hue of +countenance, and especially with a singular indifference to every +thing around them, which was peculiar to them all. A man in the +strangest of all possible attire, which was utterly unlike any thing +else, walked along with perfect unconcern, evidently without a +thought of the appearance which he must present to the eyes of +others. All these people were making their way towards a single +point. Without inquiring the way, with which I was not acquainted, I +followed them, and came out on the Khitroff market-place. On the +market-place, women both old and young, of the same description, in +tattered cloaks and jackets of various shapes, in ragged shoes and +overshoes, and equally unconcerned, notwithstanding the hideousness +of their attire, sat, bargained for something, strolled about, and +scolded. There were not many people in the market itself. Evidently +market-hours were over, and the majority of the people were ascending +the rise beyond the market and through the place, all still +proceeding in one direction. I followed them. The farther I +advanced, the greater in numbers were the people of this sort who +flowed together on one road. Passing through the market-place and +proceeding along the street, I overtook two women; one was old, the +other young. Both wore something ragged and gray. As they walked +they were discussing some matter. After every necessary word, they +uttered one or two unnecessary ones, of the most improper character. +They were not intoxicated, but merely troubled about something; and +neither the men who met them, nor those who walked in front of them +and behind them, paid any attention to the language which was so +strange to me. In these quarters, evidently, people always talked +so. Ascending the rise, we reached a large house on a corner. The +greater part of the people who were walking along with me halted at +this house. They stood all over the sidewalk of this house, and sat +on the curbstone, and even the snow in the street was thronged with +the same kind of people. On the right side of the entrance door were +the women, on the left the men. I walked past the women, past the +men (there were several hundred of them in all) and halted where the +line came to an end. The house before which these people were +waiting was the Lyapinsky free lodging-house for the night. The +throng of people consisted of night lodgers, who were waiting to be +let in. At five o'clock in the afternoon, the house is opened, and +the people permitted to enter. Hither had come nearly all the people +whom I had passed on my way. + +I halted where the line of men ended. Those nearest me began to +stare at me, and attracted my attention to them by their glances. +The fragments of garments which covered these bodies were of the most +varied sorts. But the expression of all the glances directed towards +me by these people was identical. In all eyes the question was +expressed: "Why have you, a man from another world, halted here +beside us? Who are you? Are you a self-satisfied rich man who wants +to enjoy our wretchedness, to get rid of his tedium, and to torment +us still more? or are you that thing which does not and can not +exist,--a man who pities us?" This query was on every face. You +glance about, encounter some one's eye, and turn away. I wished to +talk with some one of them, but for a long time I could not make up +my mind to it. But our glances had drawn us together already while +our tongues remained silent. Greatly as our lives had separated us, +after the interchange of two or three glances we felt that we were +both men, and we ceased to fear each other. The nearest of all to me +was a peasant with a swollen face and a red beard, in a tattered +caftan, and patched overshoes on his bare feet. And the weather was +eight degrees below zero. {3} For the third or fourth time I +encountered his eyes, and I felt so near to him that I was no longer +ashamed to accost him, but ashamed not to say something to him. I +inquired where he came from? he answered readily, and we began to +talk; others approached. He was from Smolensk, and had come to seek +employment that he might earn his bread and taxes. "There is no +work," said he: "the soldiers have taken it all away. So now I am +loafing about; as true as I believe in God, I have had nothing to eat +for two days." He spoke modestly, with an effort at a smile. A +sbiten{4}-seller, an old soldier, stood near by. I called him up. +He poured out his sbiten. The peasant took a boiling-hot glassful in +his hands, and as he tried before drinking not to let any of the heat +escape in vain, and warmed his hands over it, he related his +adventures to me. These adventures, or the histories of them, are +almost always identical: the man has been a laborer, then he has +changed his residence, then his purse containing his money and ticket +has been stolen from him in the night lodging-house; now it is +impossible to get away from Moscow. He told me that he kept himself +warm by day in the dram-shops; that he nourished himself on the bits +of bread in these drinking places, when they were given to him; and +when he was driven out of them, he came hither to the Lyapinsky house +for a free lodging. He was only waiting for the police to make their +rounds, when, as he had no passport, he would be taken to jail, and +then despatched by stages to his place of settlement. "They say that +the inspection will be made on Friday," said he, "then they will +arrest me. If I can only get along until Friday." (The jail, and +the journey by stages, represent the Promised Land to him.) + +As he told his story, three men from among the throng corroborated +his statements, and said that they were in the same predicament. A +gaunt, pale, long-nosed youth, with merely a shirt on the upper +portion of his body, and that torn on the shoulders, and a cap +without a visor, forced his way sidelong through the crowd. He +shivered violently and incessantly, but tried to smile disdainfully +at the peasants' remarks, thinking by this means to adopt the proper +tone with me, and he stared at me. I offered him some sbiten; he +also, on taking the glass, warmed his hands over it; but no sooner +had he begun to speak, than he was thrust aside by a big, black, +hook-nosed individual, in a chintz shirt and waistcoat, without a +hat. The hook-nosed man asked for some sbiten also. Then came a +tall old man, with a mass of beard, clad in a great-coat girded with +a rope, and in bast shoes, who was drunk. Then a small man with a +swollen face and tearful eyes, in a brown nankeen round-jacket, with +his bare knees protruding from the holes in his summer trousers, and +knocking together with cold. He shivered so that he could not hold +his glass, and spilled it over himself. The men began to reproach +him. He only smiled in a woe-begone way, and went on shivering. +Then came a crooked monster in rags, with pattens on his bare feet; +then some sort of an officer; then something in the ecclesiastical +line; then something strange and nose-less,--all hungry and cold, +beseeching and submissive, thronged round me, and pressed close to +the sbiten. They drank up all the sbiten. One asked for money, and +I gave it. Then another asked, then a third, and the whole crowd +besieged me. Confusion and a press resulted. The porter of the +adjoining house shouted to the crowd to clear the sidewalk in front +of his house, and the crowd submissively obeyed his orders. Some +managers stepped out of the throng, and took me under their +protection, and wanted to lead me forth out of the press; but the +crowd, which had at first been scattered over the sidewalk, now +became disorderly, and hustled me. All stared at me and begged; and +each face was more pitiful and suffering and humble than the last. I +distributed all that I had with me. I had not much money, something +like twenty rubles; and in company with the crowd, I entered the +Lyapinsky lodging-house. This house is huge. It consists of four +sections. In the upper stories are the men's quarters; in the lower, +the women's. I first entered the women's place; a vast room all +occupied with bunks, resembling the third-class bunks on the railway. +These bunks were arranged in two rows, one above the other. The +women, strange, tattered creatures, both old and young, wearing +nothing over their dresses, entered and took their places, some below +and some above. Some of the old ones crossed themselves, and uttered +a petition for the founder of this refuge; some laughed and scolded. +I went up-stairs. There the men had installed themselves; among them +I espied one of those to whom I had given money. [On catching sight +of him, I all at once felt terribly abashed, and I made haste to +leave the room. And it was with a sense of absolute crime that I +quitted that house and returned home. At home I entered over the +carpeted stairs into the ante-room, whose floor was covered with +cloth; and having removed my fur coat, I sat down to a dinner of five +courses, waited on by two lackeys in dress-coats, white neckties, and +white gloves. + +Thirty years ago I witnessed in Paris a man's head cut off by the +guillotine in the presence of thousands of spectators. I knew that +the man was a horrible criminal. I was acquainted with all the +arguments which people have been devising for so many centuries, in +order to justify this sort of deed. I knew that they had done this +expressly, deliberately. But at the moment when head and body were +severed, and fell into the trough, I groaned, and apprehended, not +with my mind, but with my heart and my whole being, that all the +arguments which I had heard anent the death-penalty were arrant +nonsense; that, no matter how many people might assemble in order to +perpetrate a murder, no matter what they might call themselves, +murder is murder, the vilest sin in the world, and that that crime +had been committed before my very eyes. By my presence and non- +interference, I had lent my approval to that crime, and had taken +part in it. So now, at the sight of this hunger, cold, and +degradation of thousands of persons, I understood not with my mind, +but with my heart and my whole being, that the existence of tens of +thousands of such people in Moscow, while I and other thousands dined +on fillets and sturgeon, and covered my horses and my floors with +cloth and rugs,--no matter what the wise ones of this world might say +to me about its being a necessity,--was a crime, not perpetrated a +single time, but one which was incessantly being perpetrated over and +over again, and that I, in my luxury, was not only an accessory, but +a direct accomplice in the matter. The difference for me between +these two impressions was this, that I might have shouted to the +assassins who stood around the guillotine, and perpetrated the +murder, that they were committing a crime, and have tried with all my +might to prevent the murder. But while so doing I should have known +that my action would not prevent the murder. But here I might not +only have given sbiten and the money which I had with me, but the +coat from my back, and every thing that was in my house. But this I +had not done; and therefore I felt, I feel, and shall never cease to +feel, myself an accomplice in this constantly repeated crime, so long +as I have superfluous food and any one else has none at all, so long +as I have two garments while any one else has not even one.] {5} + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +That very evening, on my return from the Lyapinsky house, I related +my impressions to a friend. The friend, an inhabitant of the city, +began to tell me, not without satisfaction, that this was the most +natural phenomenon of town life possible, that I only saw something +extraordinary in it because of my provincialism, that it had always +been so, and always would be so, and that such must be and is the +inevitable condition of civilization. In London it is even worse. +Of course there is nothing wrong about it, and it is impossible to be +displeased with it. I began to reply to my friend, but with so much +heat and ill-temper, that my wife ran in from the adjoining room to +inquire what had happened. It appears that, without being conscious +of it myself, I had been shouting, with tears in my voice, and +flourishing my hands at my friend. I shouted: "It's impossible to +live thus, impossible to live thus, impossible!" They made me feel +ashamed of my unnecessary warmth; they told me that I could not talk +quietly about any thing, that I got disagreeably excited; and they +proved to me, especially, that the existence of such unfortunates +could not possibly furnish any excuse for imbittering the lives of +those about me. + +I felt that this was perfectly just, and held my peace; but in the +depths of my soul I was conscious that I was in the right, and I +could not regain my composure. + +And the life of the city, which had, even before this, been so +strange and repellent to me, now disgusted me to such a degree, that +all the pleasures of a life of luxury, which had hitherto appeared to +me as pleasures, become tortures to me. And try as I would, to +discover in my own soul any justification whatever for our life, I +could not, without irritation, behold either my own or other people's +drawing-rooms, nor our tables spread in the lordly style, nor our +equipages and horses, nor shops, theatres, and assemblies. I could +not behold alongside these the hungry, cold, and down-trodden +inhabitants of the Lyapinsky house. And I could not rid myself of +the thought that these two things were bound up together, that the +one arose from the other. I remember, that, as this feeling of my +own guilt presented itself to me at the first blush, so it persisted +in me, but to this feeling a second was speedily added which +overshadowed it. + +When I mentioned my impressions of the Lyapinsky house to my nearest +friends and acquaintances, they all gave me the same answer as the +first friend at whom I had begun to shout; but, in addition to this, +they expressed their approbation of my kindness of heart and my +sensibility, and gave me to understand that this sight had so +especially worked upon me because I, Lyof Nikolaevitch, was very kind +and good. And I willingly believed this. And before I had time to +look about me, instead of the feeling of self-reproach and regret, +which I had at first experienced, there came a sense of satisfaction +with my own kindliness, and a desire to exhibit it to people. + +"It really must be," I said to myself, "that I am not especially +responsible for this by the luxury of my life, but that it is the +indispensable conditions of existence that are to blame. In truth, a +change in my mode of life cannot rectify the evil which I have seen: +by altering my manner of life, I shall only make myself and those +about me unhappy, and the other miseries will remain the same as +ever. And therefore my problem lies not in a change of my own life, +as it had first seemed to me, but in aiding, so far as in me lies, in +the amelioration of the situation of those unfortunate beings who +have called forth my compassion. The whole point lies here,--that I +am a very kind, amiable man, and that I wish to do good to my +neighbors." And I began to think out a plan of beneficent activity, +in which I might exhibit my benevolence. I must confess, however, +that while devising this plan of beneficent activity, I felt all the +time, in the depths of my soul, that that was not the thing; but, as +often happens, activity of judgment and imagination drowned that +voice of conscience within me. At that juncture, the census came up. +This struck me as a means for instituting that benevolence in which I +proposed to exhibit my charitable disposition. I knew of many +charitable institutions and societies which were in existence in +Moscow, but all their activity seemed to me both wrongly directed and +insignificant in comparison with what I intended to do. And I +devised the following scheme: to arouse the sympathy of the wealthy +for the poverty of the city, to collect money, to get people together +who were desirous of assisting in this matter, and to visit all the +refuges of poverty in company with the census, and, in addition to +the work of the census, to enter into communion with the unfortunate, +to learn the particulars of their necessities, and to assist them +with money, with work, by sending them away from Moscow, by placing +their children in school, and the old people in hospitals and +asylums. And not only that, I thought, but these people who +undertake this can be formed into a permanent society, which, by +dividing the quarters of Moscow among its members, will be able to +see to it that this poverty and beggary shall not be bred; they will +incessantly annihilate it at its very inception; then they will +fulfil their duty, not so much by healing as by a course of hygiene +for the wretchedness of the city. I fancied that there would be no +more simply needy, not to mention abjectly poor persons, in the town, +and that all of us wealthy individuals would thereafter be able to +sit in our drawing-rooms, and eat our five-course dinners, and ride +in our carriages to theatres and assemblies, and be no longer annoyed +with such sights as I had seen at the Lyapinsky house. + +Having concocted this plan, I wrote an article on the subject; and +before sending it to the printer, I went to some acquaintances, from +whom I hoped for sympathy. I said the same thing to every one whom I +met that day (and I applied chiefly to the rich), and nearly the same +that I afterwards printed in my memoir; proposed to take advantage of +the census to inquire into the wretchedness of Moscow, and to succor +it, both by deeds and money, and to do it in such a manner that there +should be no poor people in Moscow, and so that we rich ones might be +able, with a quiet conscience, to enjoy the blessings of life to +which we were accustomed. All listened to me attentively and +seriously, but nevertheless the same identical thing happened with +every one of them without exception. No sooner did my hearers +comprehend the question, than they seemed to feel awkward and +somewhat mortified. They seemed to be ashamed, and principally on my +account, because I was talking nonsense, and nonsense which it was +impossible to openly characterize as such. Some external cause +appeared to compel my hearers to be forbearing with this nonsense of +mine. + +"Ah, yes! of course. That would be very good," they said to me. "It +is a self-understood thing that it is impossible not to sympathize +with this. Yes, your idea is a capital one. I have thought of that +myself, but . . . we are so indifferent, as a rule, that you can +hardly count on much success . . . however, so far as I am concerned, +I am, of course, ready to assist." + +They all said something of this sort to me. They all agreed, but +agreed, so it seemed to me, not in consequence of my convictions, and +not in consequence of their own wish, but as the result of some +outward cause, which did not permit them not to agree. I had already +noticed this, and, since not one of them stated the sum which he was +willing to contribute, I was obliged to fix it myself, and to ask: +"So I may count on you for three hundred, or two hundred, or one +hundred, or twenty-five rubles?" And not one of them gave me any +money. I mention this because, when people give money for that which +they themselves desire, they generally make haste to give it. For a +box to see Sarah Bernhardt, they will instantly place the money in +your hand, to clinch the bargain. Here, however, out of all those +who agreed to contribute, and who expressed their sympathy, not one +of them proposed to give me the money on the spot, but they merely +assented in silence to the sum which I suggested. In the last house +which I visited on that day, in the evening, I accidentally came upon +a large company. The mistress of the house had busied herself with +charity for several years. Numerous carriages stood at the door, +several lackeys in rich liveries were sitting in the ante-chamber. +In the vast drawing-room, around two tables and lamps, sat ladies and +young girls, in costly garments, dressing small dolls; and there were +several young men there also, hovering about the ladies. The dolls +prepared by these ladies were to be drawn in a lottery for the poor. + +The sight of this drawing-room, and of the people assembled in it, +struck me very unpleasantly. Not to mention the fact that the +property of the persons there congregated amounted to many millions, +not to mention the fact that the mere income from the capital here +expended on dresses, laces, bronzes, brooches, carriages, horses, +liveries, and lackeys, was a hundred-fold greater than all that these +ladies could earn; not to mention the outlay, the trip hither of all +these ladies and gentlemen; the gloves, linen, extra time, the +candles, the tea, the sugar, and the cakes had cost the hostess a +hundred times more than what they were engaged in making here. I saw +all this, and therefore I could understand, that precisely here I +should find no sympathy with my mission: but I had come in order to +make my proposition, and, difficult as this was for me, I said what I +intended. (I said very nearly the same thing that is contained in my +printed article.) + +Out of all the persons there present, one individual offered me +money, saying that she did not feel equal to going among the poor +herself on account of her sensibility, but that she would give money; +how much money she would give, and when, she did not say. Another +individual and a young man offered their services in going about +among the poor, but I did not avail myself of their offer. The +principal person to whom I appealed, told me that it would be +impossible to do much because means were lacking. Means were lacking +because all the rich people in Moscow were already on the lists, and +all of them were asked for all that they could possibly give; because +on all these benefactors rank, medals, and other dignities were +bestowed; because in order to secure financial success, some new +dignities must be secured from the authorities, and that this was the +only practical means, but this was extremely difficult. + +On my return home that night, I lay down to sleep not only with a +presentment that my idea would come to nothing, but with shame and a +consciousness that all day long I had been engaged in a very +repulsive and disgraceful business. But I did not give up this +undertaking. In the first place, the matter had been begun, and +false shame would have prevented my abandoning it; in the second +place, not only the success of this scheme, but the very fact that I +was busying myself with it, afforded me the possibility of continuing +to live in the conditions under which I was then living; failure +entailed upon me the necessity of renouncing my present existence and +of seeking new paths of life. And this I unconsciously dreaded, and +I could not believe the inward voice, and I went on with what I had +begun. + +Having sent my article to the printer, I read the proof of it to the +City Council (Dum). I read it, stumbling, and blushing even to +tears, I felt so awkward. And I saw that it was equally awkward for +all my hearers. In answer to my question at the conclusion of my +reading, as to whether the superintendents of the census would accept +my proposition to retain their places with the object of becoming +mediators between society and the needy, an awkward silence ensued. +Then two orators made speeches. These speeches in some measure +corrected the awkwardness of my proposal; sympathy for me was +expressed, but the impracticability of my proposition, which all had +approved, was demonstrated. Everybody breathed more freely. But +when, still desirous of gaining my object, I afterwards asked the +superintendents separately: Were they willing, while taking the +census, to inquire into the needs of the poor, and to retain their +posts, in order to serve as go-betweens between the poor and the +rich? they all grew uneasy again. They seemed to say to me with +their glances: "Why, we have just condoned your folly out of respect +to you, and here you are beginning it again!" Such was the +expression of their faces, but they assured me in words that they +agreed; and two of them said in the very same words, as though they +had entered into a compact together: "We consider ourselves MORALLY +BOUND to do this." The same impression was produced by my +communication to the student-census-takers, when I said to them, that +while taking our statistics, we should follow up, in addition to the +objects of the census, the object of benevolence. When we discussed +this, I observed that they were ashamed to look the kind-hearted man, +who was talking nonsense, in the eye. My article produced the same +impression on the editor of the newspaper, when I handed it to him; +on my son, on my wife, on the most widely different persons. All +felt awkward, for some reason or other; but all regarded it as +indispensable to applaud the idea itself, and all, immediately after +this expression of approbation, began to express their doubts as to +its success, and began for some reason (and all of them, too, without +exception) to condemn the indifference and coldness of our society +and of every one, apparently, except themselves. + +In the depths of my own soul, I still continued to feel that all this +was not at all what was needed, and that nothing would come of it; +but the article was printed, and I prepared to take part in the +census; I had contrived the matter, and now it was already carrying +me a way with it. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +At my request, there had been assigned to me for the census, a +portion of the Khamovnitchesky quarter, at the Smolensk market, along +the Prototchny cross-street, between Beregovoy Passage and Nikolsky +Alley. In this quarter are situated the houses generally called the +Rzhanoff Houses, or the Rzhanoff fortress. These houses once +belonged to a merchant named Rzhanoff, but now belong to the Zimins. +I had long before heard of this place as a haunt of the most terrible +poverty and vice, and I had accordingly requested the directors of +the census to assign me to this quarter. My desire was granted. + +On receiving the instructions of the City Council, I went alone, a +few days previous to the beginning of the census, to reconnoitre my +section. I found the Rzhanoff fortress at once, from the plan with +which I had been furnished. + +I approached from Nikolsky Alley. Nikolsky Alley ends on the left in +a gloomy house, without any gates on that side; I divined from its +appearance that this was the Rzhanoff fortress. + +Passing down Nikolsky Street, I overtook some lads of from ten to +fourteen years of age, clad in little caftans and great-coats, who +were sliding down hill, some on their feet, and some on one skate, +along the icy slope beside this house. The boys were ragged, and, +like all city lads, bold and impudent. I stopped to watch them. A +ragged old woman, with yellow, pendent cheeks, came round the corner. +She was going to town, to the Smolensk market, and she groaned +terribly at every step, like a foundered horse. As she came +alongside me, she halted and drew a hoarse sigh. In any other +locality, this old woman would have asked money of me, but here she +merely addressed me. + +"Look there," said she, pointing at the boys who were sliding, "all +they do is to play their pranks! They'll turn out just such Rzhanoff +fellows as their fathers." + +One of the boys clad in a great-coat and a visorless cap, heard her +words and halted: "What are you scolding about?" he shouted to the +old woman. "You're an old Rzhanoff nanny-goat yourself!" + +I asked the boy: + +"And do you live here?" + +"Yes, and so does she. She stole boot-legs," shouted the boy; and +raising his foot in front, he slid away. + +The old woman burst forth into injurious words, interrupted by a +cough. At that moment, an old man, all clad in rags, and as white as +snow, came down the hill in the middle of the street, flourishing his +hands [in one of them he held a bundle with one little kalatch and +baranki" {6}]. This old man bore the appearance of a person who had +just strengthened himself with a dram. He had evidently heard the +old woman's insulting words, and he took her part. + +"I'll give it to you, you imps, that I will!" he screamed at the +boys, seeming to direct his course towards them, and taking a circuit +round me, he stepped on to the sidewalk. This old man creates +surprise on the Arbata by his great age, his weakness, and his +indigence. Here he was a cheery laboring-man returning from his +daily toil. + +I followed the old man. He turned the corner to the left, into +Prototchny Alley, and passing by the whole length of the house and +the gate, he disappeared through the door of the tavern. + +Two gates and several doors open on Prototchny Alley: those +belonging to a tavern, a dram-shop, and several eating and other +shops. This is the Rzhanoff fortress itself. Every thing here is +gray, dirty, and malodorous--both buildings and locality, and court- +yards and people. The majority of the people whom I met here were +ragged and half-clad. Some were passing through, others were running +from door to door. Two were haggling over some rags. I made the +circuit of the entire building from Prototchny Alley and Beregovoy +Passage, and returning I halted at the gate of one of these houses. +I wished to enter, and see what was going on inside, but I felt that +it would be awkward. What should I say when I was asked what I +wanted there? I hesitated, but went in nevertheless. As soon as I +entered the court-yard, I became conscious of a disgusting odor. The +yard was frightfully dirty. I turned a corner, and at the same +instant I heard to my left and overhead, on the wooden balcony, the +tramp of footsteps of people running, at first along the planks of +the balcony, and then on the steps of the staircase. There emerged, +first a gaunt woman, with her sleeves rolled up, in a faded pink +gown, and little boots on her stockingless feet. After her came a +tattered man in a red shirt and very full trousers, like a petticoat, +and with overshoes. The man caught the woman at the bottom of the +steps. + +"You shall not escape," he said laughing. + +"See here, you cock-eyed devil," began the woman, evidently flattered +by this pursuit; but catching sight of me, she shrieked viciously, +"What do you want?" + +As I wanted nothing, I became confused and beat a retreat. There was +nothing remarkable about the place; but this incident, after what I +had witnessed on the other side of the yard, the cursing old woman, +the jolly old man, and the lads sliding, suddenly presented the +business which I had concocted from a totally different point of +view. I then comprehended for the first time, that all these +unfortunates to whom I was desirous of playing the part of +benefactor, besides the time, when, suffering from cold and hunger, +they awaited admission into the house, had still other time, which +they employed to some other purpose, that there were four and twenty +hours in every day, that there was a whole life of which I had never +thought, up to that moment. Here, for the first time, I understood, +that all those people, in addition to their desire to shelter +themselves from the cold and to obtain a good meal, must still, in +some way, live out those four and twenty hours each day, which they +must pass as well as everybody else. I comprehended that these +people must lose their tempers, and get bored, show courage, and +grieve and be merry. Strange as this may seem, when put into words, +I understood clearly for the first time, that the business which I +had undertaken could not consist alone in feeding and clothing +thousands of people, as one would feed and drive under cover a +thousand sheep, but that it must consist in doing good to them. + +And then I understood that each one of those thousand people was +exactly such a man,--with precisely the same past, with the same +passions, temptations, failings, with the same thoughts, the same +perplexities,--exactly such a man as myself, and then the thing that +I had undertaken suddenly presented itself to me as so difficult that +I felt my powerlessness; but the thing had been begun, and I went on +with it. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +On the first appointed day, the student enumerators arrived in the +morning, and I, the benefactor, joined them at twelve o'clock. I +could not go earlier, because I had risen at ten o'clock, then I had +drunk my coffee and smoked, while waiting on digestion. At twelve +o'clock I reached the gates of the Rzhanoff house. A policeman +pointed out to me the tavern with a side entrance on Beregovoy +Passage, where the census-takers had ordered every one who asked for +them to be directed. I entered the tavern. It was very dark, ill- +smelling, and dirty. Directly opposite the entrance was the counter, +on the left was a room with tables, covered with soiled cloths, on +the right a large apartment with pillars, and the same sort of little +tables at the windows and along the walls. Here and there at the +tables sat men both ragged and decently clad, like laboring-men or +petty tradesmen, and a few women drinking tea. The tavern was very +filthy, but it was instantly apparent that it had a good trade. + +There was a business-like expression on the face of the clerk behind +the counter, and a clever readiness about the waiters. No sooner had +I entered, than one waiter prepared to remove my coat and bring me +whatever I should order. It was evident that they had been trained +to brisk and accurate service. I inquired for the enumerators. + +"Vanya!" shouted a small man, dressed in German fashion, who was +engaged in placing something in a cupboard behind the counter; this +was the landlord of the tavern, a Kaluga peasant, Ivan Fedotitch, who +hired one-half of the Zimins' houses and sublet them to lodgers. The +waiter, a thin, hooked-nosed young fellow of eighteen, with a yellow +complexion, hastened up. + +"Conduct this gentleman to the census-takers; they went into the main +building over the well." The young fellow threw down his napkin, and +donned a coat over his white jacket and white trousers, and a cap +with a large visor, and, tripping quickly along with his white feet, +he led me through the swinging door in the rear. In the dirty, +malodorous kitchen, in the out-building, we encountered an old woman +who was carefully carrying some very bad-smelling tripe, wrapped in a +rag, off somewhere. From the out-building we descended into a +sloping court-yard, all encumbered with small wooden buildings on +lower stories of stone. The odor in this whole yard was extremely +powerful. The centre of this odor was an out-house, round which +people were thronging whenever I passed it. It merely indicated the +spot, but was not altogether used itself. It was impossible, when +passing through the yard, not to take note of this spot; one always +felt oppressed when one entered the penetrating atmosphere which was +emitted by this foul smell. + +The waiter, carefully guarding his white trousers, led me cautiously +past this place of frozen and unfrozen uncleanness to one of the +buildings. The people who were passing through the yard and along +the balconies all stopped to stare at me. It was evident that a +respectably dressed man was a curiosity in these localities. + +The young man asked a woman "whether she had seen the census-takers?" +And three men simultaneously answered his question: some said that +they were over the well, but others said that they had been there, +but had come out and gone to Nikita Ivanovitch. An old man dressed +only in his shirt, who was wandering about the centre of the yard, +said that they were in No. 30. The young man decided that this was +the most probable report, and conducted me to No. 30 through the +basement entrance, and darkness and bad smells, different from that +which existed outside. We went down-stairs, and proceeded along the +earthen floor of a dark corridor. As we were passing along the +corridor, a door flew open abruptly, and an old drunken man, in his +shirt, probably not of the peasant class, thrust himself out. A +washerwoman, wringing her soapy hands, was pursuing and hustling the +old man with piercing screams. Vanya, my guide, pushed the old man +aside, and reproved him. + +"It's not proper to make such a row," said me, "and you an officer, +too!" and we went on to the door of No. 30. + +Vanya gave it a little pull. The door gave way with a smack, opened, +and we smelled soapy steam, and a sharp odor of spoilt food and +tobacco, and we entered into total darkness. The windows were on the +opposite side; but the corridors ran to right and left between board +partitions, and small doors opened, at various angles, into the rooms +made of uneven whitewashed boards. In a dark room, on the left, a +woman could be seen washing in a tub. An old woman was peeping from +one of these small doors on the right. Through another open door we +could see a red-faced, hairy peasant, in bast shoes, sitting on his +wooden bunk; his hands rested on his knees, and he was swinging his +feet, shod in bast shoes, and gazing gloomily at them. + +At the end of the corridor was a little door leading to the apartment +where the census-takers were. This was the chamber of the mistress +of the whole of No. 30; she rented the entire apartment from Ivan +Feodovitch, and let it out again to lodgers and as night-quarters. +In her tiny room, under the tinsel images, sat the student census- +taker with his charts; and, in his quality of investigator, he had +just thoroughly interrogated a peasant wearing a shirt and a vest. +This latter was a friend of the landlady, and had been answering +questions for her. The landlady herself, an elderly woman, was there +also, and two of her curious tenants. When I entered, the room was +already packed full. I pushed my way to the table. I exchanged +greetings with the student, and he proceeded with his inquiries. And +I began to look about me, and to interrogate the inhabitants of these +quarters for my own purpose. + +It turned out, that in this first set of lodgings, I found not a +single person upon whom I could pour out my benevolence. The +landlady, in spite of the fact that the poverty, smallness and dirt +of these quarters struck me after the palatial house in which I +dwell, lived in comfort, compared with many of the poor inhabitants +of the city, and in comparison with the poverty in the country, with +which I was thoroughly familiar, she lived luxuriously. She had a +feather-bed, a quilted coverlet, a samovar, a fur cloak, and a +dresser with crockery. The landlady's friend had the same +comfortable appearance. He had a watch and a chain. Her lodgers +were not so well off, but there was not one of them who was in need +of immediate assistance: the woman who was washing linen in a tub, +and who had been abandoned by her husband and had children, an aged +widow without any means of livelihood, as she said, and that peasant +in bast shoes, who told me that he had nothing to eat that day. But +on questioning them, it appeared that none of these people were in +special want, and that, in order to help them, it would be necessary +to become well acquainted with them. + +When I proposed to the woman whose husband had abandoned her, to +place her children in an asylum, she became confused, fell into +thought, thanked me effusively, but evidently did not wish to do so; +she would have preferred pecuniary assistance. The eldest girl +helped her in her washing, and the younger took care of the little +boy. The old woman begged earnestly to be taken to the hospital, but +on examining her nook I found that the old woman was not particularly +poor. She had a chest full of effects, a teapot with a tin spout, +two cups, and caramel boxes filled with tea and sugar. She knitted +stockings and gloves, and received monthly aid from some benevolent +lady. And it was evident that what the peasant needed was not so +much food as drink, and that whatever might be given him would find +its way to the dram-shop. In these quarters, therefore, there were +none of the sort of people whom I could render happy by a present of +money. But there were poor people who appeared to me to be of a +doubtful character. I noted down the old woman, the woman with the +children, and the peasant, and decided that they must be seen to; but +later on, as I was occupied with the peculiarly unfortunate whom I +expected to find in this house, I made up my mind that there must be +some order in the aid which we should bestow; first came the most +wretched, and then this kind. But in the next quarters, and in the +next after that, it was the same story, all the people had to be +narrowly investigated before they could be helped. But unfortunates +of the sort whom a gift of money would convert from unfortunate into +fortunate people, there were none. Mortifying as it is to me to avow +this, I began to get disenchanted, because I did not find among these +people any thing of the sort which I had expected. I had expected to +find peculiar people here; but, after making the round of all the +apartments, I was convinced that the inhabitants of these houses were +not peculiar people at all, but precisely such persons as those among +whom I lived. As there are among us, just so among them; there were +here those who were more or less good, more or less stupid, happy and +unhappy. The unhappy were exactly such unhappy beings as exist among +us, that is, unhappy people whose unhappiness lies not in their +external conditions, but in themselves, a sort of unhappiness which +it is impossible to right by any sort of bank-note whatever. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +The inhabitants of these houses constitute the lower class of the +city, which numbers in Moscow, probably, one hundred thousand. +There, in that house, are representatives of every description of +this class. There are petty employers, and master-artisans, +bootmakers, brush-makers, cabinet-makers, turners, shoemakers, +tailors, blacksmiths; there are cab-drivers, young women living +alone, and female pedlers, laundresses, old-clothes dealers, money- +lenders, day-laborers, and people without any definite employment; +and also beggars and dissolute women. + +Here were many of the very people whom I had seen at the entrance to +the Lyapinsky house; but here these people were scattered about among +the working-people. And moreover, I had seen these people at their +most unfortunate time, when they had eaten and drunk up every thing, +and when, cold, hungry, and driven forth from the taverns, they were +awaiting admission into the free night lodging-house, and thence into +the promised prison for despatch to their places of residence, like +heavenly manna; but here I beheld them and a majority of workers, and +at a time, when by one means or another, they had procured three or +five kopeks for a lodging for the night, and sometimes a ruble for +food and drink. + +And strange as the statement may seem, I here experienced nothing +resembling that sensation which I had felt in the Lyapinsky house; +but, on the contrary, during the first round, both I and the students +experienced an almost agreeable feeling,--yes, but why do I say +"almost agreeable"? This is not true; the feeling called forth by +intercourse with these people, strange as it may sound, was a +distinctly agreeable one. + +Our first impression was, that the greater part of the dwellers here +were working people and very good people at that. + +We found more than half the inhabitants at work: laundresses bending +over their tubs, cabinet-makers at their lathes, cobblers on their +benches. The narrow rooms were full of people, and cheerful and +energetic labor was in progress. There was an odor of toilsome sweat +and leather at the cobbler's, of shavings at the cabinet-maker's; +songs were often to be heard, and glimpses could be had of brawny +arms with sleeves roiled high, quickly and skilfully making their +accustomed movements. Everywhere we were received cheerfully and +politely: hardly anywhere did our intrusion into the every-day life +of these people call forth that ambition, and desire to exhibit their +importance and to put us down, which the appearance of the +enumerators in the quarters of well-to-do people evoked. It not only +did not arouse this, but, on the contrary, they answered all other +questions properly, and without attributing any special significance +to them. Our questions merely served them as a subject of mirth and +jesting as to how such and such a one was to be set down in the list, +when he was to be reckoned as two, and when two were to be reckoned +as one, and so forth. + +We found many of them at dinner, or tea; and on every occasion to our +greeting: "bread and salt," or "tea and sugar," they replied: "we +beg that you will partake," and even stepped aside to make room for +us. Instead of the den with a constantly changing population, which +we had expected to find here, it turned out, that there were a great +many apartments in the house where people had been living for a long +time. One cabinet-maker with his men, and a boot-maker with his +journeymen, had lived there for ten years. The boot-maker's quarters +were very dirty and confined, but all the people at work were very +cheerful. I tried to enter into conversation with one of the +workmen, being desirous of inquiring into the wretchedness of his +situation and his debt to his master, but the man did not understand +me and spoke of his master and his life from the best point of view. + +In one apartment lived an old man and his old woman. They peddled +apples. Their little chamber was warm, clean, and full of goods. On +the floor were spread straw mats: they had got them at the apple- +warehouse. They had chests, a cupboard, a samovar, and crockery. In +the corner there were numerous images, and two lamps were burning +before them; on the wall hung fur coats covered with sheets. The old +woman, who had star-shaped wrinkles, and who was polite and +talkative, evidently delighted in her quiet, comfortable, existence. + +Ivan Fedotitch, the landlord of the tavern and of these quarters, +left his establishment and came with us. He jested in a friendly +manner with many of the landlords of apartments, addressing them all +by their Christian names and patronymics, and he gave us brief +sketches of them. All were ordinary people, like everybody else,-- +Martin Semyonovitches, Piotr Piotrovitches, Marya Ivanovnas,--people +who did not consider themselves unhappy, but who regarded themselves, +and who actually were, just like the rest of mankind. + +We had been prepared to witness nothing except what was terrible. +And, all of a sudden, there was presented to us, not only nothing +that was terrible, but what was good,--things which involuntarily +compelled our respect. And there were so many of these good people, +that the tattered, corrupt, idle people whom we came across now and +then among them, did not destroy the principal impression. + +This was not so much of a surprise to the students as to me. They +simply went to fulfil a useful task, as they thought, in the +interests of science, and, at the same time, they made their own +chance observations; but I was a benefactor, I went for the purpose +of aiding the unfortunate, the corrupt, vicious people, whom I +supposed that I should meet with in this house. And, behold, instead +of unfortunate, corrupt, and vicious people, I saw that the majority +were laborious, industrious, peaceable, satisfied, contented, +cheerful, polite, and very good folk indeed. + +I felt particularly conscious of this when, in these quarters, I +encountered that same crying want which I had undertaken to +alleviate. + +When I encountered this want, I always found that it had already been +relieved, that the assistance which I had intended to render had +already been given. This assistance had been rendered before my +advent, and rendered by whom? By the very unfortunate, depraved +creatures whom I had undertaken to reclaim, and rendered in such a +manner as I could not compass. + +In one basement lay a solitary old man, ill with the typhus fever. +There was no one with the old man. A widow and her little daughter, +strangers to him, but his neighbors round the corner, looked after +him, gave him tea and purchased medicine for him out of their own +means. In another lodging lay a woman in puerperal fever. A woman +who lived by vice was rocking the baby, and giving her her bottle; +and for two days, she had been unremitting in her attention. The +baby girl, on being left an orphan, was adopted into the family of a +tailor, who had three children of his own. So there remained those +unfortunate idle people, officials, clerks, lackeys out of place, +beggars, drunkards, dissolute women, and children, who cannot be +helped on the spot with money, but whom it is necessary to know +thoroughly, to be planned and arranged for. I had simply sought +unfortunate people, the unfortunates of poverty, those who could be +helped by sharing with them our superfluity, and, as it seemed to me, +through some signal ill-luck, none such were to be found; but I hit +upon unfortunates to whom I should be obliged to devote my time and +care. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +The unfortunates whom I noted down, divided themselves, according to +my ideas, into three sections, namely: people who had lost their +former advantageous position, and who were awaiting a return to it +(there were people of this sort from both the lower and the higher +class); next, dissolute women, of whom there are a great many in +these houses; and a third division, children. More than all the +rest, I found and noted down people of the first division, who had +forfeited their former advantageous position, and who hoped to regain +it. Of such persons, especially from the governmental and official +world, there are a very great number in these houses. In almost all +the lodgings which we entered, with the landlord, Ivan Fedotitch, he +said to us: "Here you need not write down the lodger's card +yourself; there is a man here who can do it, if he only happens not +to be intoxicated to-day." + +And Ivan Fedotitch called by name and patronymic this man, who was +always one of those persons who had fallen from a lofty position. At +Ivan Fedotitch's call, there crawled forth from some dark corner, a +former wealthy member of the noble or official class, generally +intoxicated and always undressed. If he was not drunk, he always +readily acceded to the task proposed to him, nodded significantly, +frowned, set down his remarks in learned phraseology, held the card +neatly printed on red paper in his dirty, trembling hands, and +glanced round at his fellow-lodgers with pride and contempt, as +though now triumphing in his education over those who had so often +humiliated him. He evidently enjoyed intercourse with that world in +which cards are printed on red paper, and with that world of which he +had once formed a part. Nearly always, in answer to my inquiries +about his life, the man began, not only willingly, but eagerly, to +relate the story of the misfortunes which he had undergone,--which he +had learned by rote like a prayer,--and particularly of his former +position, in which he ought still to be by right of his education. + +A great many such people were scattered over all the corners of the +Rzhanoff house. But one lodging was densely occupied by them alone-- +both men and women. After we had already entered, Ivan Fedotitch +said to us: "Now, here are some of the nobility." The lodging was +perfectly crammed; nearly all of the people, forty in number, were at +home. More demoralized countenances, unhappy, aged, and swollen, +young, pallid, and distracted, were not to be seen in the whole +building. I conversed with several of them. The story was nearly +identical in all cases, only in various stages of development. Every +one of them had been rich, or his father, his brother or his uncle +was still wealthy, or his father or he himself had had a very fine +position. Then misfortune had overtaken him, the blame for which +rested either on envious people, or on his own kind-heartedness, or +some special chance, and so he had lost every thing, and had been +forced to condescend to these surroundings to which he was not +accustomed, and which were hateful to him--among lice, rags, among +drunkards and corrupt persons, and to nourish himself on bread and +liver, and to extend his hand in beggary. All the thoughts, desires, +memories of these people were directed exclusively to the past. The +present appeared to them something unreal, repulsive, and not worthy +of attention. Not one of them had any present. They had only +memories of the past, and expectations from the future, which might +be realized at any moment, and for the realization of which only a +very little was required; but this little they did not possess, it +was nowhere to be obtained, and this had been ruining their whole +future life in vain, in the case of one man, for a year, of a second +for five years, and of a third for thirty years. All one needed was +merely to dress respectably, so that he could present himself to a +certain personage, who was well-disposed towards him another only +needed to be able to dress, pay off his debts, and get to Orel; a +third required to redeem a small property which was mortgaged, for +the continuation of a law-suit, which must be decided in his favor, +and then all would be well once more. They all declare that they +merely require something external, in order to stand once more in the +position which they regard as natural and happy in their own case. + +Had my mind not been obscured by my pride as a benefactor, a glance +at their faces, both old and young, which were mostly weak and +sensitive, but amiable, would have given me to understand that their +misfortunes were irreparable by any external means, that they could +not be happy in any position whatever, if their views of life were to +remain unchanged, that they were in no wise remarkable people, in +remarkably unfortunate circumstances, but that they were the same +people who surround us on all sides, and just like ourselves. I +remember that intercourse with this sort of unfortunates was +peculiarly difficult for me. I now understand why this was so; in +them I beheld myself, as in a mirror. If I had reflected on my own +life and on the life of the people in our circle, I should have seen +that no real difference existed between them. + +If those about me dwell in spacious quarters, and in their own houses +on the Sivtzevy Vrazhok and on the Dimitrovka, and not in the +Rzhanoff house, and still eat and drink dainties, and not liver and +herrings with bread, that does not prevent them from being exactly as +unhappy. They are just as dissatisfied with their own positions, +they mourn over the past, and pine for better things, and the +improved position for which they long is precisely the same as that +which the inhabitants of the Rzhanoff house long for; that is to say, +one in which they may do as little work as possible themselves, and +derive the utmost advantage from the labors of others. The +difference is merely one of degrees and time. If I had reflected at +that time, I should have understood this; but I did not reflect, and +I questioned these people, and wrote them down, supposing, that, +having learned all the particulars of their various conditions and +necessities, I could aid them LATER ON. I did not understand that +such a man can only be helped by changing his views of the world. +But in order to change the views of another, one must needs have +better views himself, and live in conformity with them; but mine were +precisely the same as theirs, and I lived in accordance with those +views, which must undergo a change, in order that these people might +cease to be unhappy. + +I did not see that these people were unhappy, not because they had +not, so to speak, nourishing food, but because their stomachs had +been spoiled, and because their appetites demanded not nourishing but +irritating viands; and I did not perceive that, in order to help +them, it was not necessary to give them food, but that it was +necessary to heal their disordered stomachs. Although I am +anticipating by so doing, I will mention here, that, out of all these +persons whom I noted down, I really did not help a single one, in +spite of the fact that for some of them, that was done which they +desired, and that which, apparently, might have raised them. Three +of their number were particularly well known to me. All three, after +repeated rises and falls, are now in precisely the same situation in +which they were three years ago. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The second class of unfortunates whom I also expected to assist later +on, were the dissolute women; there were a very great many of them, +of all sorts, in the Rzhanoff house--from those who were young and +who resembled women, to old ones, who were frightful and horrible, +and who had lost every semblance of humanity. The hope of being of +assistance to these women, which I had not at first entertained, +occurred to me later. This was in the middle of our rounds. We had +already worked out several mechanical tricks of procedure. + +When we entered a new establishment, we immediately questioned the +landlady of the apartment; one of us sat down, clearing some sort of +a place for himself where he could write, and another penetrated the +corners, and questioned each man in all the nooks of the apartment +separately, and reported the facts to the one who did the writing. + +On entering a set of rooms in the basement, a student went to hunt up +the landlady, while I began to interrogate all who remained in the +place. The apartment was thus arranged: in the centre was a room +six arshins square, {7} and a small oven. From the oven radiated +four partitions, forming four tiny compartments. In the first, the +entrance slip, which had four bunks, there were two persons--an old +man and a woman. Immediately adjoining this, was a rather long slip +of a room; in it was the landlord, a young fellow, dressed in a +sleeveless gray woollen jacket, a good-looking, very pale citizen. +{8} On the left of the first corner, was a third tiny chamber; there +was one person asleep there, probably a drunken peasant, and a woman +in a pink blouse which was loose in front and close-fitting behind. +The fourth chamber was behind the partition; the entrance to it was +from the landlord's compartment. + +The student went into the landlord's room, and I remained in the +entrance compartment, and questioned the old man and woman. The old +man had been a master-printer, but now had no means of livelihood. +The woman was the wife of a cook. I went to the third compartment, +and questioned the woman in the blouse about the sleeping man. She +said that he was a visitor. I asked the woman who she was. She +replied that she was a Moscow peasant. "What is your business?" She +burst into a laugh, and did not answer me. "What do you live on?" I +repeated, thinking that she had not understood my question. "I sit +in the taverns," she said. I did not comprehend, and again I +inquired: "What is your means of livelihood?" She made no reply and +laughed. Women's voices in the fourth compartment which we had not +yet entered, joined in the laugh. The landlord emerged from his +cabin and stepped up to us. He had evidently heard my questions and +the woman's replies. He cast a stern glance at the woman and turned +to me: "She is a prostitute," said he, apparently pleased that he +knew the word in use in the language of the authorities, and that he +could pronounce it correctly. And having said this, with a +respectful and barely perceptible smile of satisfaction addressed to +me, he turned to the woman. And no sooner had he turned to her, than +his whole face altered. He said, in a peculiar, scornful, hasty +tone, such as is employed towards dogs: "What do you jabber in that +careless way for? 'I sit in the taverns.' You do sit in the +taverns, and that means, to talk business, that you are a +prostitute," and again he uttered the word. "She does not know the +name for herself." This tone offended me. "It is not our place to +abuse her," said I. "If all of us lived according to the laws of +God, there would be none of these women." + +"That's the very point," said the landlord, with an awkward smile. + +"Therefore, we should not reproach but pity them. Are they to +blame?" + +I do not recollect just what I said, but I do remember that I was +vexed by the scornful tone of the landlord of these quarters which +were filled with women, whom he called prostitutes, and that I felt +compassion for this woman, and that I gave expression to both +feelings. No sooner had I spoken thus, than the boards of the bed in +the next compartment, whence the laugh had proceeded, began to creak, +and above the partition, which did not reach to the ceiling, there +appeared a woman's curly and dishevelled head, with small, swollen +eyes, and a shining, red face, followed by a second, and then by a +third. They were evidently standing on their beds, and all three +were craning their necks, and holding their breath with strained +attention, and gazing silently at us. + +A troubled pause ensued. The student, who had been smiling up to +this time, became serious; the landlord grew confused and dropped his +eyes. All the women held their breath, stared at me, and waited. I +was more embarrassed than any of them. I had not, in the least, +anticipated that a chance remark would produce such an effect. Like +Ezekiel's field of death, strewn with dead men's bones, there was a +quiver at the touch of the spirit, and the dead bones stirred. I had +uttered an unpremeditated word of love and sympathy, and this word +had acted on all as though they had only been waiting for this very +remark, in order that they might cease to be corpses and might live. +They all stared at me, and waited for what would come next. They +waited for me to utter those words, and to perform those actions by +reason of which these bones might draw together, clothe themselves +with flesh, and spring into life. But I felt that I had no such +words, no such actions, by means of which I could continue what I had +begun; I was conscious, in the depths of my soul, that I had lied +[that I was just like them], {9} and there was nothing further for me +to say; and I began to inscribe on the cards the names and callings +of all the persons in this set of apartments. + +This incident led me into a fresh dilemma, to the thought of how +these unfortunates also might be helped. In my self-delusion, I +fancied that this would be very easy. I said to myself: "Here, we +will make a note of all these women also, and LATER ON when we [I did +not specify to myself who "we" were] write every thing out, we will +attend to these persons too." I imagined that we, the very ones who +have brought and have been bringing these women to this condition for +several generations, would take thought some fine day and reform all +this. But, in the mean time, if I had only recalled my conversation +with the disreputable woman who had been rocking the baby of the +fever-stricken patient, I might have comprehended the full extent of +the folly of such a supposition. + +When we saw this woman with the baby, we thought that it was her +child. To the question, "Who was she?" she had replied in a +straightforward way that she was unmarried. She did not say--a +prostitute. Only the master of the apartment made use of that +frightful word. The supposition that she had a child suggested to me +the idea of removing her from her position. I inquired: + +"Is this your child?" + +"No, it belongs to that woman yonder." + +"Why are you taking care of it?" + +"Because she asked me; she is dying." + +Although my supposition proved to be erroneous, I continued my +conversation with her in the same spirit. I began to question her as +to who she was, and how she had come to such a state. She related +her history very readily and simply. She was a Moscow myeshchanka, +the daughter of a factory hand. She had been left an orphan, and had +been adopted by an aunt. From her aunt's she had begun to frequent +the taverns. The aunt was now dead. When I asked her whether she +did not wish to alter her mode of life, my question, evidently, did +not even arouse her interest. How can one take an interest in the +proposition of a man, in regard to something absolutely impossible? +She laughed, and said: "And who would take me in with my yellow +ticket?" + +"Well, but if a place could be found somewhere as cook?" said I. + +This thought occurred to me because she was a stout, ruddy woman, +with a kindly, round, and rather stupid face. Cooks are often like +that. My words evidently did not please her. She repeated: + +"A cook--but I don't know how to make bread," said she, and she +laughed. She said that she did not know how; but I saw from the +expression of her countenance that she did not wish to become a cook, +that she regarded the position and calling of a cook as low. + +This woman, who in the simplest possible manner was sacrificing every +thing that she had for the sick woman, like the widow in the Gospels, +at the same time, like many of her companions, regarded the position +of a person who works as low and deserving of scorn. She had been +brought up to live not by work, but by this life which was considered +the natural one for her by those about her. In that lay her +misfortune. And she fell in with this misfortune and clung to her +position. This led her to frequent the taverns. Which of us--man or +woman--will correct her false view of life? Where among us are the +people to be found who are convinced that every laborious life is +more worthy of respect than an idle life,--who are convinced of this, +and who live in conformity with this belief, and who in conformity +with this conviction value and respect people? If I had thought of +this, I might have understood that neither I, nor any other person +among my acquaintances, could heal this complaint. + +I might have understood that these amazed and affected heads thrust +over the partition indicated only surprise at the sympathy expressed +for them, but not in the least a hope of reclamation from their +dissolute life. They do not perceive the immorality of their life. +They see that they are despised and cursed, but for what they are +thus despised they cannot comprehend. Their life, from childhood, +has been spent among just such women, who, as they very well know, +always have existed, and are indispensable to society, and so +indispensable that there are governmental officials to attend to +their legal existence. Moreover, they know that they have power over +men, and can bring them into subjection, and rule them often more +than other women. They see that their position in society is +recognized by women and men and the authorities, in spite of their +continual curses, and therefore, they cannot understand why they +should reform. + +In the course of one of the tours, one of the students told me that +in a certain lodging, there was a woman who was bargaining for her +thirteen-year-old daughter. Being desirous of rescuing this girl, I +made a trip to that lodging expressly. Mother and daughter were +living in the greatest poverty. The mother, a small, dark- +complexioned, dissolute woman of forty, was not only homely, but +repulsively homely. The daughter was equally disagreeable. To all +my pointed questions about their life, the mother responded curtly, +suspiciously, and in a hostile way, evidently feeling that I was an +enemy, with evil intentions; the daughter made no reply, did not look +at her mother, and evidently trusted the latter fully. They inspired +me with no sincere pity, but rather with disgust. But I made up my +mind that the daughter must be rescued, and that I would interest +ladies who pitied the sad condition of these women, and send them +hither. But if I had reflected on the mother's long life in the +past, of how she had given birth to, nursed and reared this daughter +in her situation, assuredly without the slightest assistance from +outsiders, and with heavy sacrifices--if I had reflected on the view +of life which this woman had formed, I should have understood that +there was, decidedly, nothing bad or immoral in the mother's act: +she had done and was doing for her daughter all that she could, that +is to say, what she considered the best for herself. This daughter +could be forcibly removed from her mother; but it would be impossible +to convince the mother that she was doing wrong, in selling her +daughter. If any one was to be saved, then it must be this woman-- +the mother ought to have been saved; [and that long before, from that +view of life which is approved by every one, according to which a +woman may live unmarried, that is, without bearing children and +without work, and simply for the satisfaction of the passions. If I +had thought of this, I should have understood that the majority of +the ladies whom I intended to send thither for the salvation of that +little girl, not only live without bearing children and without +working, and serving only passion, but that they deliberately rear +their daughters for the same life; one mother takes her daughter to +the taverns, another takes hers to balls. But both mothers hold the +same view of the world, namely, that a woman must satisfy man's +passions, and that for this she must be fed, dressed, and cared for. +Then how are our ladies to reform this woman and her daughter? {10} ] + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +Still more remarkable were my relations to the children. In my role +of benefactor, I turned my attention to the children also, being +desirous to save these innocent beings from perishing in that lair of +vice, and noting them down in order to attend to them AFTERWARDS. + +Among the children, I was especially struck with a twelve-year-old +lad named Serozha. I was heartily sorry for this bold, intelligent +lad, who had lived with a cobbler, and who had been left without a +shelter because his master had been put in jail, and I wanted to do +good to him. + +I will here relate the upshot of my benevolence in his case, because +my experience with this child is best adapted to show my false +position in the role of benefactor. I took the boy home with me and +put him in the kitchen. It was impossible, was it not, to take a +child who had lived in a den of iniquity in among my own children? +And I considered myself very kind and good, because he was a care, +not to me, but to the servants in the kitchen, and because not I but +the cook fed him, and because I gave him some cast-off clothing to +wear. The boy staid a week. During that week I said a few words to +him as I passed on two occasions and in the course of my strolls, I +went to a shoemaker of my acquaintance, and proposed that he should +take the lad as an apprentice. A peasant who was visiting me, +invited him to go to the country, into his family, as a laborer; the +boy refused, and at the end of the week he disappeared. I went to +the Rzhanoff house to inquire after him. He had returned there, but +was not at home when I went thither. For two days already, he had +been going to the Pryesnensky ponds, where he had hired himself out +at thirty kopeks a day in some procession of savages in costume, who +led about elephants. Something was being presented to the public +there. I went a second time, but he was so ungrateful that he +evidently avoided me. Had I then reflected on the life of that boy +and on my own, I should have understood that this boy was spoiled +because he had discovered the possibility of a merry life without +labor, and that he had grown unused to work. And I, with the object +of benefiting and reclaiming him, had taken him to my house, where he +saw--what? My children,--both older and younger than himself, and of +the same age,--who not only never did any work for themselves, but +who made work for others by every means in their power, who soiled +and spoiled every thing about them, who ate rich, dainty, and sweet +viands, broke china, and flung to the dogs food which would have been +a tidbit to this lad. If I had rescued him from the abyss, and had +taken him to that nice place, then he must acquire those views which +prevailed in the life of that nice place; but by these views, he +understood that in that fine place he must so live that he should not +toil, but eat and drink luxuriously, and lead a joyous life. It is +true that he did not know that my children bore heavy burdens in the +acquisition of the declensions of Latin and Greek grammar, and that +he could not have understood the object of these labors. But it is +impossible not to see that if he had understood this, the influence +of my children's example on him would have been even stronger. He +would then have comprehended that my children were being educated in +this manner, so that, while doing no work now, they might be in a +position hereafter, also profiting by their diplomas, to work as +little as possible, and to enjoy the pleasures of life to as great an +extent as possible. He did understand this, and he would not go with +the peasant to tend cattle, and to eat potatoes and kvas with him, +but he went to the zoological garden in the costume of a savage, to +lead the elephant at thirty kopeks a day. + +I might have understood how clumsy I was, when I was rearing my +children in the most utter idleness and luxury, to reform other +people and their children, who were perishing from idleness in what I +called the den of the Rzhanoff house, where, nevertheless, three- +fourths of the people toil for themselves and for others. But I +understood nothing of this. + +There were a great many children in the Rzhanoff house, who were in +the same pitiable plight; there were the children of dissolute women, +there were orphans, there were children who had been picked up in the +streets by beggars. They were all very wretched. But my experience +with Serozha showed me that I, living the life I did, was not in a +position to help them. + +While Serozha was living with us, I noticed in myself an effort to +hide our life from him, in particular the life of our children. I +felt that all my efforts to direct him towards a good, industrious +life, were counteracted by the examples of our lives and by that of +our children. It is very easy to take a child away from a +disreputable woman, or from a beggar. It is very easy, when one has +the money, to wash, clean and dress him in neat clothing, to support +him, and even to teach him various sciences; but it is not only +difficult for us, who do not earn our own bread, but quite the +reverse, to teach him to work for his bread, but it is impossible, +because we, by our example, and even by those material and valueless +improvements of his life, inculcate the contrary. A puppy can be +taken, tended, fed, and taught to fetch and carry, and one may take +pleasure in him: but it is not enough to tend a man, to feed and +teach him Greek; we must teach the man how to live,--that is, to take +as little as possible from others, and to give as much as possible; +and we cannot help teaching him to do the contrary, if we take him +into our houses, or into an institution founded for this purpose. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +This feeling of compassion for people, and of disgust with myself, +which I had experienced in the Lyapinsky house, I experienced no +longer. I was completely absorbed in the desire to carry out the +scheme which I had concocted,--to do good to those people whom I +should meet here. And, strange to say, it would appear, that, to do +good--to give money to the needy--is a very good deed, and one that +should dispose me to love for the people, but it turned out the +reverse: this act produced in me ill-will and an inclination to +condemn people. But during our first evening tour, a scene occurred +exactly like that in the Lyapinsky house, and it called forth a +wholly different sentiment. + +It began by my finding in one set of apartments an unfortunate +individual, of precisely the sort who require immediate aid. I found +a hungry woman who had had nothing to eat for two days. + +It came about thus: in one very large and almost empty night- +lodging, I asked an old woman whether there were many poor people who +had nothing to eat? The old woman reflected, and then told me of +two; and then, as though she had just recollected, "Why, here is one +of them," said she, glancing at one of the occupied bunks. "I think +that woman has had no food." + +"Really? Who is she?" + +"She was a dissolute woman: no one wants any thing to do with her +now, so she has no way of getting any thing. The landlady has had +compassion on her, but now she means to turn her out . . . Agafya, +hey there, Agafya!" cried the woman. + +We approached, and something rose up in the bunk. It was a woman +haggard and dishevelled, whose hair was half gray, and who was as +thin as a skeleton, dressed in a ragged and dirty chemise, and with +particularly brilliant and staring eyes. She looked past us with her +staring eyes, clutched at her jacket with one thin hand, in order to +cover her bony breast which was disclosed by her tattered chemise, +and oppressed, she cried, "What is it? what is it?" I asked her +about her means of livelihood. For a long time she did not +understand, and said, "I don't know myself; they persecute me." I +asked her,--it puts me to shame, my hand refuses to write it,--I +asked her whether it was true that she had nothing to eat? She +answered in the same hurried, feverish tone, staring at me the +while,--"No, I had nothing yesterday, and I have had nothing to-day." + +The sight of this woman touched me, but not at all as had been the +case in the Lyapinsky house; there, my pity for these people made me +instantly feel ashamed of myself: but here, I rejoiced because I had +at last found what I had been seeking,--a hungry person. + +I gave her a ruble, and I recollect being very glad that others saw +it. The old woman, on seeing this, immediately begged money of me +also. It afforded me such pleasure to give, that, without finding +out whether it was necessary to give or not, I gave something to the +old woman too. The old woman accompanied me to the door, and the +people standing in the corridor heard her blessing me. Probably the +questions which I had put with regard to poverty, had aroused +expectation, and several persons followed us. In the corridor also, +they began to ask me for money. Among those who begged were some +drunken men, who aroused an unpleasant feeling in me; but, having +once given to the old woman, I had no might to refuse these people, +and I began to give. As long as I continued to give, people kept +coming up; and excitement ran through all the lodgings. People made +them appearance on the stairs and galleries, and followed me. As I +emerged into the court-yard, a little boy ran swiftly down one of the +staircases thrusting the people aside. He did not see me, and +exclaimed hastily: "He gave Agashka a ruble!" When he reached the +ground, the boy joined the crowd which was following me. I went out +into the street: various descriptions of people followed me, and +asked for money. I distributed all my small change, and entered an +open shop with the request that the shopkeeper would change a ten- +ruble bill for me. And then the same thing happened as at the +Lyapinsky house. A terrible confusion ensued. Old women, noblemen, +peasants, and children crowded into the shop with outstretched hands; +I gave, and interrogated some of them as to their lives, and took +notes. The shopkeeper, turning up the furred points of the collar of +his coat, sat like a stuffed creature, glancing at the crowd +occasionally, and then fixing his eyes beyond them again. He +evidently, like every one else, felt that this was foolish, but he +could not say so. + +The poverty and beggary in the Lyapinsky house had horrified me, and +I felt myself guilty of it; I felt the desire and the possibility of +improvement. But now, precisely the same scene produced on me an +entirely different effect; I experienced, in the first place, a +malevolent feeling towards many of those who were besieging me; and +in the second place, uneasiness as to what the shopkeepers and +porters would think of me. + +On my return home that day, I was troubled in my soul. I felt that +what I had done was foolish and immoral. But, as is always the +result of inward confusion, I talked a great deal about the plan +which I had undertaken, as though I entertained not the slightest +doubt of my success. + +On the following day, I went to such of the people whom I had +inscribed on my list, as seemed to me the most wretched of all, and +those who, as it seemed to me, would be the easiest to help. As I +have already said, I did not help any of these people. It proved to +be more difficult to help them than I had thought. And either +because I did not know how, or because it was impossible, I merely +imitated these people, and did not help any one. I visited the +Rzhanoff house several times before the final tour, and on every +occasion the very same thing occurred: I was beset by a throng of +beggars in whose mass I was completely lost. I felt the +impossibility of doing any thing, because there were too many of +them, and because I felt ill-disposed towards them because there were +so many of them; and in addition to this, each one separately did not +incline me in his favor. I was conscious that every one of them was +telling me an untruth, or less than the whole truth, and that he saw +in me merely a purse from which money might be drawn. And it very +frequently seemed to me, that the very money which they squeezed out +of me, rendered their condition worse instead of improving it. The +oftener I went to that house, the more I entered into intercourse +with the people there, the more apparent became to me the +impossibility of doing any thing; but still I did not give up any +scheme until the last night tour. + +The remembrance of that last tour is particularly mortifying to me. +On other occasions I had gone thither alone, but twenty of us went +there on this occasion. At seven o'clock, all who wished to take +part in this final night round, began to assemble at my house. +Nearly all of them were strangers to me,--students, one officer, and +two of my society acquaintances, who, uttering the usual, "C'est tres +interessant!" had asked me to include them in the number of the +census-takers. + +My worldly acquaintances had dressed up especially for this, in some +sort of hunting-jacket, and tall, travelling boots, in a costume in +which they rode and went hunting, and which, in their opinion, was +appropriate for an excursion to a night-lodging-house. They took +with them special note-books and remarkable pencils. They were in +that peculiarly excited state of mind in which men set off on a hunt, +to a duel, or to the wars. The most apparent thing about them was +their folly and the falseness of our position, but all the rest of us +were in the same false position. Before we set out, we held a +consultation, after the fashion of a council of war, as to how we +should begin, how divide our party, and so on. + +This consultation was exactly such as takes place in councils, +assemblages, committees; that is to say, each person spoke, not +because he had any thing to say or to ask, but because each one +cudgelled his brain for something that he could say, so that he might +not fall short of the rest. But, among all these discussions, no one +alluded to that beneficence of which I had so often spoken to them +all. Mortifying as this was to me, I felt that it was indispensable +that I should once more remind them of benevolence, that is, of the +point, that we were to observe and take notes of all those in +destitute circumstances whom we should encounter in the course of our +rounds. I had always felt ashamed to speak of this; but now, in the +midst of all our excited preparations for our expedition, I could +hardly utter the words. All listened to me, as it seemed to me, with +sorrow, and, at the same time, all agreed in words; but it was +evident that they all knew that it was folly, and that nothing would +come of it, and all immediately began again to talk about something +else. This went on until the time arrived for us to set out, and we +started. + +We reached the tavern, roused the waiters, and began to sort our +papers. When we were informed that the people had heard about this +round, and were leaving their quarters, we asked the landlord to lock +the gates; and we went ourselves into the yard to reason with the +fleeing people, assuring them that no one would demand their tickets. +I remember the strange and painful impression produced on me by these +alarmed night-lodgers: ragged, half-dressed, they all seemed tall to +me by the light of the lantern and the gloom of the court-yard. +Frightened and terrifying in their alarm, they stood in a group +around the foul-smelling out-house, and listened to our assurances, +but they did not believe us, and were evidently prepared for any +thing, like hunted wild beasts, provided only that they could escape +from us. Gentlemen in divers shapes--as policemen, both city and +rural, and as examining judges, and judges--hunt them all their +lives, in town and country, on the highway and in the streets, and in +the taverns, and in night-lodging houses; and now, all of a sudden, +these gentlemen had come and locked the gates, merely in order to +count them: it was as difficult for them to believe this, as for +hares to believe that dogs have come, not to chase but to count them. +But the gates were locked, and the startled lodgers returned: and +we, breaking up into groups, entered also. With me were the two +society men and two students. In front of us, in the dark, went +Vanya, in his coat and white trousers, with a lantern, and we +followed. We went to quarters with which I was familiar. I knew all +the establishments, and some of the people; but the majority of the +people were new, and the spectacle was new, and more dreadful than +the one which I had witnessed in the Lyapinsky house. All the +lodgings were full, all the bunks were occupied, not by one person +only, but often by two. The sight was terrible in that narrow space +into which the people were huddled, and men and women were mixed +together. All the women who were not dead drunk slept with men; and +women with two children did the same. The sight was terrible, on +account of the poverty, dirt, rags, and terror of the people. And it +was chiefly dreadful on account of the vast numbers of people who +were in this situation. One lodging, and then a second like it, and +a third, and a tenth, and a twentieth, and still there was no end to +them. And everywhere there was the same foul odor, the same close +atmosphere, the same crowding, the same mingling of the sexes, the +same men and women intoxicated to stupidity, and the same terror, +submission and guilt on all faces; and again I was overwhelmed with +shame and pain, as in the Lyapinsky house, and I understood that what +I had undertaken was abominable and foolish and therefore +impracticable. And I no longer took notes of anybody, and I asked no +questions, knowing that nothing would come of this. + +I was deeply pained. In the Lyapinsky house I had been like a man +who has seen a fearful wound, by chance, on the body of another man. +He is sorry for the other man, he is ashamed that he has not pitied +the man before, and he can still rise to the succor of the sufferer. +But now I was like a physician, who has come with his medicine to the +sick man, has uncovered his sore, and examined it, and who must +confess to himself that every thing that he has done has been in +vain, and that his remedy is good for nothing. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +This visit dealt the final blow to my self-delusion. It now appeared +indisputable to me, that what I had undertaken was not only foolish +but loathsome. + +But, in spite of the fact that I was aware of this, it seemed to me +that I could not abandon the whole thing on the spot. It seemed to +me that I was bound to carry out this enterprise, in the first place, +because by my article, by my visits and promises, I had aroused the +expectations of the poor; in the second, because by my article also, +and by my talk, I had aroused the sympathies of benevolent persons, +many of whom had promised me their co-operation both in personal +labor and in money. And I expected that both sets of people would +turn to me for an answer to this. + +What happened to me, so far as the appeal of the needy to me is +concerned, was as follows: By letter and personal application I +received more than a hundred; these applications were all from the +wealthy-poor, if I may so express myself. I went to see some of +them, and some of them received no answer. Nowhere did I succeed in +doing any thing. All applications to me were from persons who had +once occupied privileged positions (I thus designate those in which +people receive more from others than they give), who had lost them, +and who wished to occupy them again. To one, two hundred rubles were +indispensable, in order that he might prop up a failing business, and +complete the education of his children which had been begun; another +wanted a photographic outfit; a third wanted his debts paid, and +respectable clothing purchased for him; a fourth needed a piano, in +order to perfect himself and support his family by giving lessons. +But the majority did not stipulate for any given sum of money, and +simply asked for assistance; and when I came to examine into what was +required, it turned out that their demands grew in proportion to the +aid, and that there was not and could not be any way of satisfying +them. I repeat, that it is very possible that this arose from the +fact that I did not understand how; but I did not help any one, +although I sometimes endeavored to do so. + +A very strange and unexpected thing happened to me as regards the co- +operation of the benevolently disposed. Out of all the persons who +had promised me financial aid, and who had even stated the number of +rubles, not a single one handed to me for distribution among the poor +one solitary ruble. But according to the pledges which had been +given me, I could reckon on about three thousand rubles; and out of +all these people, not one remembered our former discussions, or gave +me a single kopek. Only the students gave the money which had been +assigned to them for their work on the census, twelve rubles, I +think. So my whole scheme, which was to have been expressed by tens +of thousands of rubles contributed by the wealthy, for hundreds and +thousands of poor people who were to be rescued from poverty and +vice, dwindled down to this, that I gave away, haphazard, a few +scores of rubles to those people who asked me for them, and that +there remained in my hands twelve rubies contributed by the students, +and twenty-five sent to me by the City Council for my labor as a +superintendent, and I absolutely did not know to whom to give them. + +The whole matter came to an end. And then, before my departure for +the country, on the Sunday before carnival, I went to the Rzhanoff +house in the morning, in order to get rid of those thirty-seven +rubles before I should leave Moscow, and to distribute them to the +poor. I made the round of the quarters with which I was familiar, +and in them found only one sick man, to whom I gave five rubles. +There was no one else there to give any to. Of course many began to +beg of me. But as I had not known them at first, so I did not know +them now, and I made up my mind to take counsel with Ivan Fedotitch, +the landlord of the tavern, as to the persons upon whom it would be +proper to bestow the remaining thirty-two rubies. + +It was the first day of the carnival. Everybody was dressed up, and +everybody was full-fed, and many were already intoxicated. In the +court-yard, close to the house, stood an old man, a rag-picker, in a +tattered smock and bast shoes, sorting over the booty in his basket, +tossing out leather, iron, and other stuff in piles, and breaking +into a merry song, with a fine, powerful voice. I entered into +conversation with him. He was seventy years old, he was alone in the +world, and supported himself by his calling of a rag-picker; and not +only did he utter no complaints, but he said that he had plenty to +eat and drink. I inquired of him as to especially needy persons. He +flew into a rage, and said plainly that there were no needy people, +except drunkards and lazy men; but, on learning my object, he asked +me for a five-kopek piece to buy a drink, and ran off to the tavern. +I too entered the tavern to see Ivan Fedotitch, and commission him to +distribute the money which I had left. The tavern was full; gayly- +dressed, intoxicated girls were flitting in and out; all the tables +were occupied; there were already a great many drunken people, and in +the small room the harmonium was being played, and two persons were +dancing. Out of respect to me, Ivan Fedotitch ordered that the dance +should be stopped, and seated himself with me at a vacant table. I +said to him, that, as he knew his tenants, would not he point out to +me the most needy among them; that I had been entrusted with the +distribution of a little money, and, therefore, would he indicate the +proper persons? Good-natured Ivan Fedotitch (he died a year later), +although he was pressed with business, broke away from it for a time, +in order to serve me. He meditated, and was evidently undecided. An +elderly waiter heard us, and joined the conference. + +They began to discuss the claims of persons, some of whom I knew, but +still they could not come to any agreement. "The Paramonovna," +suggested the waiter. "Yes, that would do. Sometimes she has +nothing to eat. Yes, but then she tipples."--"Well, what of that? +That makes no difference."--"Well, Sidoron Ivanovitch has children. +He would do." But Ivan Fedotitch had his doubts about Sidoron +Ivanovitch also. "Akulina shall have some. There, now, give +something to the blind." To this I responded. I saw him at once. +He was a blind old man of eighty years, without kith or kin. It +seemed as though no condition could be more painful, and I went +immediately to see him. He was lying on a feather-bed, on a high +bedstead, drunk; and, as he did not see me, he was scolding his +comparatively youthful female companion in a frightful bass voice, +and in the very worst kind of language. They also summoned an +armless boy and his mother. I saw that Ivan Fedotitch was in great +straits, on account of his conscientiousness, for me knew that +whatever was given would immediately pass to his tavern. But I had +to get rid of my thirty-two rubles, so I insisted; and in one way and +another, and half wrongfully to boot, we assigned and distributed +them. Those who received them were mostly well dressed, and we had +not far to go to find them, as they were there in the tavern. The +armless boy appeared in wrinkled boots, and a red shirt and vest. +With this my charitable career came to an end, and I went off to the +country; irritated at others, as is always the case, because I myself +had done a stupid and a bad thing. My benevolence had ended in +nothing, and it ceased altogether, but the current of thoughts and +feelings which it had called up with me not only did not come to an +end, but the inward work went on with redoubled force. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +What was its nature? + +I had lived in the country, and there I was connected with the rustic +poor. Not out of humility, which is worse than pride, but for the +sake of telling the truth, which is indispensable for the +understanding of the whole course of my thoughts and sentiments, I +will say that in the country I did very little for the poor, but the +demands which were made upon me were so modest that even this little +was of use to the people, and formed around me an atmosphere of +affection and union with the people, in which it was possible to +soothe the gnawing sensation of remorse at the independence of my +life. On going to the city, I had hoped to be able to live in the +same manner. But here I encountered want of an entirely different +sort. City want was both less real, and more exacting and cruel, +than country poverty. But the principal point was, that there was so +much of it in one spot, that it produced on me a frightful +impression. The impression which I experienced in the Lyapinsky +house had, at the very first, made me conscious of the deformity of +my own life. This feeling was genuine and very powerful. But, +notwithstanding its genuineness and power, I was, at that time, so +weak that I feared the alteration in my life to which this feeling +commended me, and I resorted to a compromise. I believed what +everybody told me, and everybody has said, ever since the world was +made,--that there is nothing evil in wealth and luxury, that they are +given by God, that one may continue to live as a rich man, and yet +help the needy. I believed this, and I tried to do it. I wrote an +essay, in which I summoned all rich people to my assistance. The +rich people all acknowledged themselves morally bound to agree with +me, but evidently they either did not wish to do any thing, or they +could not do any thing or give any thing to the poor. I began to +visit the poor, and I beheld what I had not in the least expected. +On the one hand, I beheld in those dens, as I called them, people +whom it was not conceivable that I should help, because they were +working people, accustomed to labor and privation, and therefore +standing much higher and having a much firmer foothold in life than +myself; on the other hand, I saw unfortunate people whom I could not +aid because they were exactly like myself. The majority of the +unfortunates whom I saw were unhappy only because they had lost the +capacity, desire, and habit of earning their own bread; that is to +say, their unhappiness consisted in the fact that they were precisely +such persons as myself. + +I found no unfortunates who were sick, hungry, or cold, to whom I +could render immediate assistance, with the solitary exception of +hungry Agafya. And I became convinced, that, on account of my +remoteness from the lives of those people whom I desired to help, it +would be almost impossible to find any such unfortunates, because all +actual wants had already been supplied by the very people among whom +these unfortunates live; and, most of all, I was convinced that money +cannot effect any change in the life led by these unhappy people. + +I was convinced of all this, but out of false shame at abandoning +what I had once undertaken, because of my self-delusion as a +benefactor, I went on with this matter for a tolerably long time,-- +and would have gone on with it until it came to nothing of itself,-- +so that it was with the greatest difficulty that, with the help of +Ivan Fedotitch, I got rid, after a fashion, as well as I could, in +the tavern of the Rzhanoff house, of the thirty-seven rubles which I +did not regard as belonging to me. + +Of course I might have gone on with this business, and have made out +of it a semblance of benevolence; by urging the people who had +promised me money, I might have collected more, I might have +distributed this money, and consoled myself with my charity; but I +perceived, on the one hand, that we rich people neither wish nor are +able to share a portion of our a superfluity with the poor (we have +so many wants of our own), and that money should not be given to any +one, if the object really be to do good and not to give money itself +at haphazard, as I had done in the Rzhanoff tavern. And I gave up +the whole thing, and went off to the country with despair in my +heart. + +In the country I tried to write an essay about all this that I had +experienced, and to tell why my undertaking had not succeeded. I +wanted to justify myself against the reproaches which had been made +to me on the score of my article on the census; I wanted to convict +society of its in difference, and to state the causes in which this +city poverty has its birth, and the necessity of combating it, and +the means of doing so which I saw. + +I began this essay at once, and it seemed to me that in it I was +saying a very great deal that was important. But toil as I would +over it, and in spite of the abundance of materials, in spite of the +superfluity of them even, I could not get though that essay; and so I +did not finish it until the present year, because of the irritation +under the influence of which I wrote, because I had not gone through +all that was requisite in order to bear myself properly in relation +to this essay, because I did not simply and clearly acknowledge the +cause of all this,--a very simple cause, which had its root in +myself. + +In the domain of morals, one very remarkable and too little noted +phenomenon presents itself. + +If I tell a man who knows nothing about it, what I know about +geology, astronomy, history, physics, and mathematics, that man +receives entirely new information, and he never says to me: "Well, +what is there new in that? Everybody knows that, and I have known it +this long while." But tell that same man the most lofty truth, +expressed in the clearest, most concise manner, as it has never +before been expressed, and every ordinary individual, especially one +who takes no particular interest in moral questions, or, even more, +one to whom the moral truth stated by you is displeasing, will +infallibly say to you: "Well, who does not know that? That was +known and said long ago." It really seems to him that this has been +said long ago and in just this way. Only those to whom moral truths +are dear and important know how important and precious they are, and +with what prolonged labor the elucidation, the simplification, of +moral truths, their transit from the state of a misty, indefinitely +recognized supposition, and desire, from indistinct, incoherent +expressions, to a firm and definite expression, unavoidably demanding +corresponding concessions, are attained. + +We have all become accustomed to think that moral instruction is a +most absurd and tiresome thing, in which there can be nothing new or +interesting; and yet all human life, together with all the varied and +complicated activities, apparently independent, of morality, both +governmental and scientific, and artistic and commercial, has no +other aim than the greater and greater elucidation, confirmation, +simplification, and accessibility of moral truth. + +I remember that I was once walking along the street in Moscow, and in +front of me I saw a man come out and gaze attentively at the stones +of the sidewalk, after which he selected one stone, seated himself on +it, and began to plane (as it seemed to me) or to rub it with the +greatest diligence and force. "What is he doing to the sidewalk?" I +said to myself. On going close to him, I saw what the man was doing. +He was a young fellow from a meat-shop; he was whetting his knife on +the stone of the pavement. He was not thinking at all of the stones +when he scrutinized them, still less was he thinking of them when he +was accomplishing his task: he was whetting his knife. He was +obliged to whet his knife so that he could cut the meat; but to me it +seemed as though he were doing something to the stones of the +sidewalk. Just so it appears as though humanity were occupied with +commerce, conventions, wars, sciences, arts; but only one business is +of importance to it, and with only one business is it occupied: it +is elucidating to itself those moral laws by which it lives. The +moral laws are already in existence; humanity is only elucidating +them, and this elucidation seems unimportant and imperceptible for +any one who has no need of moral laws, who does not wish to live by +them. But this elucidation of the moral law is not only weighty, but +the only real business of all humanity. This elucidation is +imperceptible just as the difference between the dull and the sharp +knife is imperceptible. The knife is a knife all the same, and for a +person who is not obliged to cut any thing with this knife, the +difference between the dull and the sharp one is imperceptible. For +the man who has come to an understanding that his whole life depends +on the greater or less degree of sharpness in the knife,--for such a +man, every whetting of it is weighty, and that man knows that the +knife is a knife only when it is sharp, when it cuts that which needs +cutting. + +This is what happened to me, when I began to write my essay. It +seemed to me that I knew all about it, that I understood every thing +connected with those questions which had produced on me the +impressions of the Lyapinsky house, and the census; but when I +attempted to take account of them and to demonstrate them, it turned +out that the knife would not cut, and that it must be whetted. And +it is only now, after the lapse of three years, that I have felt that +my knife is sufficiently sharp, so that I can cut what I choose. I +have learned very little that is new. My thoughts are all exactly +the same, but they were duller then, and they all scattered and would +not unite on any thing; there was no edge to them; they would not +concentrate on one point, on the simplest and clearest decision, as +they have now concentrated themselves. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +I remember that during the entire period of my unsuccessful efforts +at helping the inhabitants of the city, I presented to myself the +aspect of a man who should attempt to drag another man out of a swamp +while he himself was standing on the same unstable ground. Every +attempt of mine had made me conscious of the untrustworthy character +of the soil on which I stood. I felt that I was in the swamp myself, +but this consciousness did not cause me to look more narrowly at my +own feet, in order to learn upon what I was standing; I kept on +seeking some external means, outside myself, of helping the existing +evil. + +I then felt that my life was bad, and that it was impossible to live +in that manner. But from the fact that my life was bad, and that it +was impossible to live in that manner, I did not draw the very simple +and clear deduction that it was necessary to amend my life and to +live better, but I knew the terrible deduction that in order to live +well myself, I must needs reform the lives of others; and so I began +to reform the lives of others. I lived in the city, and I wished to +reform the lives of those who lived in the city; but I soon became +convinced that this I could not by any possibility accomplish, and I +began to meditate on the inherent characteristics of city life and +city poverty. + +"What are city life and city poverty? Why, when I am living in the +city, cannot I help the city poor?" + +I asked myself. I answered myself that I could not do any thing for +them, in the first place, because there were too many of them here in +one spot; in the second place, because all the poor people here were +entirely different from the country poor. Why were there so many of +them here? and in what did their peculiarity, as opposed to the +country poor, consist? There was one and the same answer to both +questions. There were a great many of them here, because here all +those people who have no means of subsistence in the country collect +around the rich; and their peculiarity lies in this, that they are +not people who have come from the country to support themselves in +the city (if there are any city paupers, those who have been born +here, and whose fathers and grandfathers were born here, then those +fathers and grandfathers came hither for the purpose of earning their +livelihood). What is the meaning of this: TO EARN ONE'S LIVELIHOOD +IN THE CITY? In the words "to earn one's livelihood in the city," +there is something strange, resembling a jest, when you reflect on +their significance. How is it that people go from the country,--that +is to say, from the places where there are forests, meadows, grain, +and cattle, where all the wealth of the earth lies,--to earn their +livelihood in a place where there are neither trees, nor grass, nor +even land, and only stones and dust? What is the significance of the +words "to earn a livelihood in the city," which are in such constant +use, both by those who earn the livelihood, and by those who furnish +it, as though it were something perfectly clear and comprehensible? + +I recall the hundreds and thousands of city people, both those who +live well and the needy, with whom I have conversed on the reason why +they came hither: and all without exception said, that they had come +from the country to earn their living; that in Moscow, where people +neither sow nor reap,--that in Moscow there is plenty of every thing, +and that, therefore, it is only in Moscow that they can earn the +money which they require in the country for bread and a cottage and a +horse, and articles of prime necessity. But assuredly, in the +country lies the source of all riches; there only is real wealth,-- +bread, and forests, and horses, and every thing. And why, above all, +take away from the country that which dwellers in the country need,-- +flour, oats, horses, and cattle? + +Hundreds of times did I discuss this matter with peasants living in +town; and from my discussions with them, and from my observations, it +has been made apparent to me, that the congregation of country people +in the city is partly indispensable because they cannot otherwise +support themselves, partly voluntary, and that they are attracted to +the city by the temptations of the city. + +It is true, that the position of the peasant is such that, for the +satisfaction of his demands made on him in the country, he cannot +extricate himself otherwise than by selling the grain and the cattle +which he knows will be indispensable to him; and he is forced, +whether he will or no, to go to the city in order there to win back +his bread. But it is also true, that the luxury of city life, and +the comparative ease with which money is there to be earned, attract +him thither; and under the pretext of gaining his living in the town, +he betakes himself thither in order that he may have lighter work, +better food, and drink tea three times a day, and dress well, and +even lead a drunken and dissolute life. The cause of both is +identical,--the transfer of the riches of the producers into the +hands of non-producers, and the accumulation of wealth in the cities. +And, in point of fact, when autumn has come, all wealth is collected +in the country. And instantly there arise demands for taxes, +recruits, the temptations of vodka, weddings, festivals; petty +pedlers make their rounds through the villages, and all sorts of +other temptations crop up; and by this road, or, if not, by some +other, wealth of the most varied description--vegetables, calves, +cows, horses, pigs, chickens, eggs, butter, hemp, flax, rye, oats, +buckwheat, pease, hempseed, and flaxseed--all passes into the hands +of strangers, is carried off to the towns, and thence to the +capitals. The countryman is obliged to surrender all this to satisfy +the demands that are made upon him, and temptations; and, having +parted with his wealth, he is left with an insufficiency, and he is +forced to go whither his wealth has been carried and there he tries, +in part, to obtain the money which he requires for his first needs in +the country, and in part, being himself led away by the blandishments +of the city, he enjoys, in company with others, the wealth that has +there accumulated. Everywhere, throughout the whole of Russia,--yes, +and not in Russia alone, I think, but throughout the whole world,-- +the same thing goes on. The wealth of the rustic producers passes +into the hands of traders, landed proprietors, officials, and +factory-owners; and the people who receive this wealth wish to enjoy +it. But it is only in the city that they can derive full enjoyment +from this wealth. In the country, in the first place, it is +difficult to satisfy all the requirements of rich people, on account +of the sparseness of the population; banks, shops, hotels, every sort +of artisan, and all sorts of social diversions, do not exist there. +In the second place, one of the chief pleasures procured by wealth-- +vanity, the desire to astonish and outshine other people--is +difficult to satisfy in the country; and this, again, on account of +the lack of inhabitants. In the country, there is no one to +appreciate elegance, no one to be astonished. Whatever adornments in +the way of pictures and bronzes the dweller in the country may +procure for his house, whatever equipages and toilets he may provide, +there is no one to see them and envy them, and the peasants cannot +judge of them. [And, in the third place, luxury is even disagreeable +and dangerous in the country for the man possessed of a conscience +and fear. It is an awkward and delicate matter, in the country, to +have baths of milk, or to feed your puppies on it, when directly +beside you there are children who have no milk; it is an awkward and +delicate matter to build pavilions and gardens in the midst of people +who live in cots banked up with dung, which they have no means of +warming. In the country there is no one to keep the stupid peasants +in order, and in their lack of cultivation they might disarrange all +this.] {11} + +And accordingly rich people congregate, and join themselves to other +rich people with similar requirements, in the city, where the +gratification of every luxurious taste is carefully protected by a +numerous police force. Well-rooted inhabitants of the city of this +sort, are the governmental officials; every description of artisan +and professional man has sprung up around them, and with them the +wealthy join their forces. All that a rich man has to do there is to +take a fancy to a thing, and he can get it. It is also more +agreeable for a rich man to live there, because there he can gratify +his vanity; there is some one with whom he can vie in luxury; there +is some one to astonish, and there is some one to outshine. But the +principal reason why it is more comfortable in the city for a rich +man is that formerly, in the country, his luxury made him awkward and +uneasy; while now, on the contrary, it would be awkward for him not +to live luxuriously, not to live like all his peers around him. That +which seemed dreadful and awkward in the country, here appears to be +just as it should be. [Rich people congregate in the city; and +there, under the protection of the authorities, they calmly demand +every thing that is brought thither from the country. And the +countryman is, in some measure, compelled to go thither, where this +uninterrupted festival of the wealthy which demands all that is taken +from him is in progress, in order to feed upon the crumbs which fall +from the tables of the rich; and partly, also, because, when he +beholds the care-free, luxurious life, approved and protected by +everybody, he himself becomes desirous of regulating his life in such +a way as to work as little as possible, and to make as much use as +possible of the labors of others. + +And so he betakes himself to the city, and finds employment about the +wealthy, endeavoring, by every means in his power, to entice from +them that which he is in need of, and conforming to all those +conditions which the wealthy impose upon him, he assists in the +gratification of all their whims; he serves the rich man in the bath +and in the inn, and as cab-driver and prostitute, and he makes for +him equipages, toys, and fashions; and he gradually learns from the +rich man to live in the same manner as the latter, not by labor, but +by divers tricks, getting away from others the wealth which they have +heaped together; and he becomes corrupt, and goes to destruction. +And this colony, demoralized by city wealth, constitutes that city +pauperism which I desired to aid and could not. + +All that is necessary, in fact, is for us to reflect on the condition +of these inhabitants of the country, who have removed to the city in +order to earn their bread or their taxes,--when they behold, +everywhere around them, thousands squandered madly, and hundreds won +by the easiest possible means; when they themselves are forced by +heavy toil to earn kopeks,--and we shall be amazed that all these +people should remain working people, and that they do not all of them +take to an easier method of getting gain,--by trading, peddling, +acting as middlemen, begging, vice, rascality, and even robbery. +Why, we, the participants in that never-ceasing orgy which goes on in +town, can become so accustomed to our life, that it seems to us +perfectly natural to dwell alone in five huge apartments, heated by a +quantity of beech logs sufficient to cook the food for and to warm +twenty families; to drive half a verst with two trotters and two men- +servants; to cover the polished wood floor with rugs; and to spend, I +will not say, on a ball, five or ten thousand rubles, and twenty-five +thousand on a Christmas-tree. But a man who is in need of ten rubles +to buy bread for his family, or whose last sheep has been seized for +a tax-debt of seven rubles, and who cannot raise those rubles by hard +labor, cannot grow accustomed to this. We think that all this +appears natural to poor people there are even some ingenuous persons +who say in all seriousness, that the poor are very grateful to us for +supporting them by this luxury.] {12} + +But poor people are not devoid of human understanding simply because +they are poor, and they judge precisely as we do. As the first +thought that occurs to us on hearing that such and such a man has +gambled away or squandered ten or twenty thousand rubles, is: "What +a foolish and worthless fellow he is to uselessly squander so much +money! and what a good use I could have made of that money in a +building which I have long been in need of, for the improvement of my +estate, and so forth!"--just so do the poor judge when they behold +the wealth which they need, not for caprices, but for the +satisfaction of their actual necessities, of which they are +frequently deprived, flung madly away before their eyes. We make a +very great mistake when we think that the poor can judge thus, reason +thus, and look on indifferently at the luxury which surrounds them. + +They never have acknowledged, and they never will acknowledge, that +it can be just for some people to live always in idleness, and for +other people to fast and toil incessantly; but at first they are +amazed and insulted by this; then they scrutinize it more +attentively, and, seeing that these arrangements are recognized as +legitimate, they endeavor to free themselves from toil, and to take +part in the idleness. Some succeed in this, and they become just +such carousers themselves; others gradually prepare themselves for +this state; others still fail, and do not attain their goal, and, +having lost the habit of work, they fill up the disorderly houses and +the night-lodging houses. + +Two years ago, we took from the country a peasant boy to wait on +table. For some reason, he did not get on well with the footman, and +he was sent away: he entered the service of a merchant, won the +favor of his master, and now he goes about with a vest and a watch- +chain, and dandified boots. In his place, we took another peasant, a +married man: he became a drunkard, and lost money. We took a third: +he took to drunk, and, having drank up every thing he had, he +suffered for a long while from poverty in the night-lodging house. +An old man, the cook, took to drink and fell sick. Last year a +footman who had formerly been a hard drinker, but who had refrained +from liquor for five years in the country, while living in Moscow +without his wife who encouraged him, took to drink again, and ruined +his whole life. A young lad from our village lives with my brother +as a table-servant. His grandfather, a blind old man, came to me +during my sojourn in the country, and asked me to remind this +grandson that he was to send ten rubies for the taxes, otherwise it +would be necessary for him to sell his cow. "He keeps saying, I must +dress decently," said the old man: "well, he has had some shoes +made, and that's all right; but what does he want to set up a watch +for?" said the grandfather, expressing in these words the most +senseless supposition that it was possible to originate. The +supposition really was senseless, if we take into consideration that +the old man throughout Lent had eaten no butter, and that he had no +split wood because he could not possibly pay one ruble and twenty +kopeks for it; but it turned out that the old man's senseless jest +was an actual fact. The young fellow came to see me in a fine black +coat, and shoes for which he had paid eight rubles. He had recently +borrowed ten rubles from my brother, and had spent them on these +shoes. And my children, who have known the lad from childhood, told +me that he really considers it indispensable to fit himself out with +a watch. He is a very good boy, but he thinks that people will laugh +at him so long as he has no watch; and a watch is necessary. During +the present year, a chambermaid, a girl of eighteen, entered into a +connection with the coachman in our house. She was discharged. An +old woman, the nurse, with whom I spoke in regard to the unfortunate +girl, reminded me of a girl whom I had forgotten. She too, ten yeans +ago, during a brief stay of ours in Moscow, had become connected with +a footman. She too had been discharged, and she had ended in a +disorderly house, and had died in the hospital before reaching the +age of twenty. It is only necessary to glance about one, to be +struck with terror at the pest which we disseminate directly by our +luxurious life among the people whom we afterwards wish to help, not +to mention the factories and establishments which serve our luxurious +tastes. + +[And thus, having penetrated into the peculiar character of city +poverty, which I was unable to remedy, I perceived that its prime +cause is this, that I take absolute necessaries from the dwellers in +the country, and carry them all to the city. The second cause is +this, that by making use here, in the city, of what I have collected +in the country, I tempt and lead astray, by my senseless luxury, +those country people who come hither because of me, in order in some +way to get back what they have been deprived of in the country.] {13} + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +I reached the same conclusion from a totally different point. On +recalling all my relations with the city poor during that time, I saw +that one of the reasons why I could not help the city poor was, that +the poor were disingenuous and untruthful with me. They all looked +upon me, not as a man, but as means. I could not get near them, and +I thought that perhaps I did not understand how to do it; but without +uprightness, no help was possible. How can one help a man who does +not disclose his whole condition? At first I blamed them for this +(it is so natural to blame some one else); but a remark from an +observing man named Siutaeff, who was visiting me at the time, +explained this matter to me, and showed me where the cause of my want +of success lay. I remember that Siutaeff's remark struck me very +forcibly at the time; but I only understood its full significance +later on. It was at the height of my self-delusion. I was sitting +with my sister, and Siutaeff was there also at her house; and my +sister was questioning me about my undertaking. I told her about it, +and, as always happens when you have no faith in your course, I +talked to her with great enthusiasm and warmth, and at great length, +of what I had done, and of what might possibly come of it. I told +her every thing,--how we were going to keep track of pauperism in +Moscow, how we were going to keep an eye on the orphans and old +people, how we were going to send away all country people who had +grown poor here, how we were going to smooth the pathway to reform +for the depraved; how, if only the matter could be managed, there +would not be a man left in Moscow, who could not obtain assistance. +My sister sympathized with me, and we discussed it. In the middle of +our conversation, I glanced at Siutaeff. As I was acquainted with +his Christian life, and with the significance which he attached to +charity, I expected his sympathy, and spoke so that he understood +this; I talked to my sister, but directed my remarks more at him. He +sat immovable in his dark tanned sheepskin jacket,--which he wore, +like all peasants, both out of doors and in the house,--and as though +he did not hear us, but were thinking of his own affairs. His small +eyes did not twinkle, and seemed to be turned inwards. Having +finished what I had to say, I turned to him with a query as to what +he thought of it. + +"It's all a foolish business," said he. + +"Why?" + +"Your whole society is foolish, and nothing good can come out of it," +he repeated with conviction. + +"Why not? Why is it a stupid business to help thousands, at any rate +hundreds, of unfortunate beings? Is it a bad thing, according to the +Gospel, to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry?" + +"I know, I know, but that is not what you are doing. Is it necessary +to render assistance in that way? You are walking along, and a man +asks you for twenty kopeks. You give them to him. Is that alms? Do +you give spiritual alms,--teach him. But what is it that you have +given? It was only for the sake of getting rid of him." + +"No; and, besides, that is not what we are talking about. We want to +know about this need, and then to help by both money and deeds; and +to find work." + +"You can do nothing with those people in that way." + +"So they are to be allowed to die of hunger and cold?" + +"Why should they die? Are there many of them there?" + +"What, many of them?" said I, thinking that he looked at the matter +so lightly because he was not aware how vast was the number of these +people. + +"Why, do you know," said I, "I believe that there are twenty thousand +of these cold and hungry people in Moscow. And how about Petersburg +and the other cities?" + +He smiled. + +"Twenty thousand! And how many households are there in Russia alone, +do you think? Are there a million?" + +"Well, what then?" + +"What then?" and his eyes flashed, and he grew animated. "Come, let +us divide them among ourselves. I am not rich, I will take two +persons on the spot. There is the lad whom you took into your +kitchen; I invited him to come to my house, and he did not come. +Were there ten times as many, let us divide them among us. Do you +take some, and I will take some. We will work together. He will see +how I work, and he will learn. He will see how I live, and we will +sit down at the same table together, and he will hear my words and +yours. This charity society of yours is nonsense." + +These simple words impressed me. I could not but admit their +justice; but it seemed to me at that time, that, in spite of their +truth, still that which I had planned might possibly prove of +service. But the further I carried this business, the more I +associated with the poor, the more frequently did this remark recur +to my mind, and the greater was the significance which it acquired +for me. + +I arrive in a costly fur coat, or with my horses; or the man who +lacks shoes sees my two-thousand-ruble apartments. He sees how, a +little while ago, I gave five rubles without begrudging them, merely +because I took a whim to do so. He surely knows that if I give away +rubles in that manner, it is only because I have hoarded up so many +of them, that I have a great many superfluous ones, which I not only +have not given away, but which I have easily taken from other people. +[What else could he see in me but one of those persons who have got +possession of what belongs to him? And what other feeling can he +cherish towards me, than a desire to obtain from me as many of those +rubles, which have been stolen from him and from others, as possible? +I wish to get close to him, and I complain that he is not frank; and +here I am, afraid to sit down on his bed for fear of getting lice, or +catching something infectious; and I am afraid to admit him to my +room, and he, coming to me naked, waits, generally in the vestibule, +or, if very fortunate, in the ante-chamber. And yet I declare that +he is to blame because I cannot enter into intimate relations with +him, and because me is not frank. + +Let the sternest man try the experiment of eating a dinner of five +courses in the midst of people who have had very little or nothing +but black bread to eat. Not a man will have the spirit to eat, and +to watch how the hungry lick their chops around him. Hence, then, in +order to eat daintily amid the famishing, the first indispensable +requisite is to hide from them, in order that they may not see it. +This is the very thing, and the first thing, that we do. + +And I took a simpler view of our life, and perceived that an approach +to the poor is not difficult to us through accidental causes, but +that we deliberately arrange our lives in such a fashion so that this +approach may be rendered difficult. + +Not only this; but, on taking a survey of our life, of the life of +the wealthy, I saw that every thing which is considered desirable in +that life consists in, or is inseparably bound up with, the idea of +getting as far away from the poor as possible. In fact, all the +efforts of our well-endowed life, beginning with our food, dress, +houses, our cleanliness, and even down to our education,--every thing +has for its chief object, the separation of ourselves from the poor. +In procuring this seclusion of ourselves by impassable barriers, we +spend, to put it mildly, nine-tenths of our wealth. The first thing +that a man who was grown wealthy does is to stop eating out of one +bowl, and he sets up crockery, and fits himself out with a kitchen +and servants. And he feeds his servants high, too, so that their +mouths may not water over his dainty viands; and he eats alone; and +as eating in solitude is wearisome, he plans how he may improve his +food and deck his table; and the very manner of taking his food +(dinner) becomes a matter for pride and vain glory with him, and his +manner of taking his food becomes for him a means of sequestering +himself from other men. A rich man cannot think of such a thing as +inviting a poor man to his table. A man must know how to conduct +ladies to table, how to bow, to sit down, to eat, to rinse out the +mouth; and only rich people know all these things. The same thing +occurs in the matter of clothing. If a rich man were to wear +ordinary clothing, simply for the purpose of protecting his body from +the cold,--a short jacket, a coat, felt and leather boots, an under- +jacket, trousers, shirt,--he would require but very little, and he +would not be unable, when he had two coats, to give one of them to a +man who had none. But the rich man begins by procuring for himself +clothing which consists entirely of separate pieces, and which is fit +only for separate occasions, and which is, therefore, unsuited to the +poor man. He has frock-coats, vests, pea-jackets, lacquered boots, +cloaks, shoes with French heels, garments that are chopped up into +bits to conform with the fashion, hunting-coats, travelling-coats, +and so on, which can only be used under conditions of existence far +removed from poverty. And his clothing also furnishes him with a +means of keeping at a distance from the poor. The same is the case, +and even more clearly, with his dwelling. In order that one may live +alone in ten rooms, it is indispensable that those who live ten in +one room should not see it. The richer a man is, the more difficult +is he of access; the more porters there are between him and people +who are not rich, the more impossible is it to conduct a poor man +over rugs, and seat him in a satin chair. + +The case is the same with the means of locomotion. The peasant +driving in a cart, or a sledge, must be a very ill-tempered man when +he will not give a pedestrian a lift; and there is both room for this +and a possibility of doing it. But the richer the equipage, the +farther is a man from all possibility of giving a seat to any person +whatsoever. It is even said plainly, that the most stylish equipages +are those meant to hold only one person. + +It is precisely the same thing with the manner of life which is +expressed by the word cleanliness. + +Cleanliness! Who is there that does not know people, especially +women, who reckon this cleanliness in themselves as a great virtue? +and who is not acquainted with the devices of this cleanliness, which +know no bounds, when it can command the labor of others? Which of +the people who have become rich has not experienced in his own case, +with what difficulty he carefully trained himself to this +cleanliness, which only confirms the proverb, "Little white hands +love other people's work"? + +To-day cleanliness consists in changing your shirt once a day; to- +morrow, in changing it twice a day. To-day it means washing the +face, and neck, and hands daily; to-morrow, the feet; and day after +to-morrow, washing the whole body every day, and, in addition and in +particular, a rubbing-down. To-day the table-cloth is to serve for +two days, to-morrow there must be one each day, then two a day. To- +day the footman's hands must be clean; to-morrow he must wear gloves, +and in his clean gloves he must present a letter on a clean salver. +And there are no limits to this cleanliness, which is useless to +everybody, and objectless, except for the purpose of separating +oneself from others, and of rendering impossible all intercourse with +them, when this cleanliness is attained by the labors of others. + +Moreover, when I studied the subject, I because convinced that even +that which is commonly called education is the very same thing. + +The tongue does not deceive; it calls by its real name that which men +understand under this name. What the people call culture is +fashionable clothing, political conversation, clean hands,--a certain +sort of cleanliness. Of such a man, it is said, in contradistinction +to others, that he is an educated man. In a little higher circle, +what they call education means the same thing as with the people; +only to the conditions of education are added playing on the +pianoforte, a knowledge of French, the writing of Russian without +orthographical errors, and a still greater degree of external +cleanliness. In a still more elevated sphere, education means all +this with the addition of the English language, and a diploma from +the highest educational institution. But education is precisely the +same thing in the first, the second, and the third case. Education +consists of those forms and acquirements which are calculated to +separate a man from his fellows. And its object is identical with +that of cleanliness,--to seclude us from the herd of poor, in order +that they, the poor, may not see how we feast. But it is impossible +to hide ourselves, and they do see us. + +And accordingly I have become convinced that the cause of the +inability of us rich people to help the poor of the city lies in the +impossibility of our establishing intercourse with them; and that +this impossibility of intercourse is caused by ourselves, by the +whole course of our lives, by all the uses which we make of our +wealth. I have become convinced that between us, the rich and the +poor, there rises a wall, reared by ourselves out of that very +cleanliness and education, and constructed of our wealth; and that in +order to be in a condition to help the poor, we must needs, first of +all, destroy this wall; and that in order to do this, confrontation +after Siutaeff's method should be rendered possible, and the poor +distributed among us. And from another starting-point also I came to +the same conclusion to which the current of my discussions as to the +causes of the poverty in towns had led me: the cause was our +wealth.] {14} + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +I began to examine the matter from a third and wholly personal point +of view. Among the phenomena which particularly impressed me, during +the period of my charitable activity, there was yet another, and a +very strange one, for which I could for a long time find no +explanation. It was this: every time that I chanced, either on the +street on in the house, to give some small coin to a poor man, +without saying any thing to him, I saw, or thought that I saw, +contentment and gratitude on the countenance of the poor man, and I +myself experienced in this form of benevolence an agreeable +sensation. I saw that I had done what the man wished and expected +from me. But if I stopped the poor man, and sympathetically +questioned him about his former and his present life, I felt that it +was no longer possible to give three or twenty kopeks, and I began to +fumble in my purse for money, in doubt as to how much I ought to +give, and I always gave more; and I always noticed that the poor man +left me dissatisfied. But if I entered into still closer intercourse +with the poor man, then my doubts as to how much to give increased +also; and, no matter how much I gave, the poor man grew ever more +sullen and discontented. As a general rule, it always turned out +thus, that if I gave, after conversation with a poor man, three +rubles or even more, I almost always beheld gloom, displeasure, and +even ill-will, on the countenance of the poor man; and I have even +known it to happen, that, having received ten rubles, he went off +without so much as saying "Thank you," exactly as though I had +insulted him. + +And thereupon I felt awkward and ashamed, and almost guilty. But if +I followed up a poor man for weeks and months and years, and assisted +him, and explained my views to him, and associated with him, our +relations became a torment, and I perceived that the man despised me. +And I felt that he was in the right. + +If I go out into the street, and he, standing in that street, begs of +me among the number of the other passers-by, people who walk and ride +past him, and I give him money, I then am to him a passer-by, and a +good, kind passer-by, who bestows on him that thread from which a +shirt is made for the naked man; he expects nothing more than the +thread, and if I give it he thanks me sincerely. But if I stop him, +and talk with him as man with man, I thereby show him that I desire +to be something more than a mere passer-by. If, as often happens, he +weeps while relating to me his woes, then he sees in me no longer a +passer-by, but that which I desire that he should see: a good man. +But if I am a good man, my goodness cannot pause at a twenty-kopek +piece, nor at ten rubles, nor at ten thousand; it is impossible to be +a little bit of a good man. Let us suppose that I have given him a +great deal, that I have fitted him out, dressed him, set him on his +feet so that the can live without outside assistance; but for some +reason or other, though misfortune or his own weakness or vices, he +is again without that coat, that linen, and that money which I have +given him; he is again cold and hungry, and he has come again to me,- +-how can I refuse him? [For if the cause of my action consisted in +the attainment of a definite, material end, on giving him so many +rubles or such and such a coat I might be at ease after having +bestowed them. But the cause of my action is not this: the cause +is, that I want to be a good man, that is to say, I want to see +myself in every other man. Every man understands goodness thus, and +in no other manner.] {15} And therefore, if he should drink away +every thing that you had given him twenty times, and if he should +again be cold and hungry, you cannot do otherwise than give him more, +if you are a good man; you can never cease giving to him, if you have +more than he has. And if you draw back, you will thereby show that +every thing that you have done, you have done not because you are a +good man, but because you wished to appear a good man in his sight, +and in the sight of men. + +And thus in the case with the men from whom I chanced to recede, to +whom I ceased to give, and, by this action, denied good, I +experienced a torturing sense of shame. + +What sort of shame was this? This shame I had experienced in the +Lyapinsky house, and both before and after that in the country, when +I happened to give money or any thing else to the poor, and in my +expeditions among the city poor. + +A mortifying incident that occurred to me not long ago vividly +reminded me of that shame, and led me to an explanation of that shame +which I had felt when bestowing money on the poor. + +[This happened in the country. I wanted twenty kopeks to give to a +poor pilgrim; I sent my son to borrow them from some one; he brought +the pilgrim a twenty-kopek piece, and told me that he had borrowed it +from the cook. A few days afterwards some more pilgrims arrived, and +again I was in want of a twenty-kopek piece. I had a ruble; I +recollected that I was in debt to the cook, and I went to the +kitchen, hoping to get some more small change from the cook. I said: +"I borrowed a twenty-kopek piece from you, so here is a ruble." I +had not finished speaking, when the cook called in his wife from +another room: "Take it, Parasha," said he. I, supposing that she +understood what I wanted, handed her the ruble. I must state that +the cook had only lived with me a week, and, though I had seen his +wife, I had never spoken to her. I was just on the point of saying +to her that she was to give me some small coins, when she bent +swiftly down to my hand, and tried to kiss it, evidently imaging that +I had given her the ruble. I muttered something, and quitted the +kitchen. I was ashamed, ashamed to the verge of torture, as I had +not been for a long time. I shrank together; I was conscious that I +was making grimaces, and I groaned with shame as I fled from the +kitchen. This utterly unexpected, and, as it seemed to me, utterly +undeserved shame, made a special impression on me, because it was a +long time since I had been mortified, and because I, as an old man, +had so lived, it seemed to me, that I had not merited this shame. I +was forcibly struck by this. I told the members of my household +about it, I told my acquaintances, and they all agreed that they +should have felt the same. And I began to reflect: why had this +caused me such shame? To this, something which had happened to me in +Moscow furnished me with an answer. + +I meditated on that incident, and the shame which I had experienced +in the presence of the cook's wife was explained to me, and all those +sensations of mortification which I had undergone during the course +of my Moscow benevolence, and which I now feel incessantly when I +have occasion to give any one any thing except that petty alms to the +poor and to pilgrims, which I have become accustomed to bestow, and +which I consider a deed not of charity but of courtesy. If a man +asks you for a light, you must strike a match for him, if you have +one. If a man asks for three or for twenty kopeks, or even for +several rubles, you must give them if you have them. This is an act +of courtesy and not of charity.] {16} + +This was the case in question: I have already mentioned the two +peasants with whom I was in the habit of sawing wood three yeans ago. +One Saturday evening at dusk, I was returning to the city in their +company. They were going to their employer to receive their wages. +As we were crossing the Dragomilovsky bridge, we met an old man. He +asked alms, and I gave him twenty kopeks. I gave, and reflected on +the good effect which my charity would have on Semyon, with whom I +had been conversing on religious topics. Semyon, the Vladimir +peasant, who had a wife and two children in Moscow, halted also, +pulled round the skirt of his kaftan, and got out his purse, and from +this slender purse he extracted, after some fumbling, three kopeks, +handed it to the old man, and asked for two kopeks in change. The +old man exhibited in his hand two three-kopek pieces and one kopek. +Semyon looked at them, was about to take the kopek, but thought +better of it, pulled off his hat, crossed himself, and walked on, +leaving the old man the three-kopek piece. + +I was fully acquainted with Semyon's financial condition. He had no +property at home at all. The money which he had laid by on the day +when he gave three kopeks amounted to six rubles and fifty kopeks. +Accordingly, six rubles and twenty kopeks was the sum of his savings. +My reserve fund was in the neighborhood of six hundred thousand. I +had a wife and children, Semyon had a wife and children. He was +younger than I, and his children were fewer in number than mine; but +his children were small, and two of mine were of an age to work, so +that our position, with the exception of the savings, was on an +equality; mine was somewhat the more favorable, if any thing. He +gave three kopeks, I gave twenty. What did he really give, and what +did I really give? What ought I to have given, in order to do what +Semyon had done? he had six hundred kopeks; out of this he gave one, +and afterwards two. I had six hundred thousand rubles. In order to +give what Semyon had given, I should have been obliged to give three +thousand rubles, and ask for two thousand in change, and then leave +the two thousand with the old man, cross myself, and go my way, +calmly conversing about life in the factories, and the cost of liver +in the Smolensk market. + +I thought of this at the time; but it was only long afterwards that I +was in a condition to draw from this incident that deduction which +inevitably results from it. This deduction is so uncommon and so +singular, apparently, that, in spite of its mathematical +infallibility, one requires time to grow used to it. It does seem as +though there must be some mistake, but mistake there is none. There +is merely the fearful mist of error in which we live. + +[This deduction, when I arrived at it, and when I recognized its +undoubted truth, furnished me with an explanation of my shame in the +presence of the cook's wife, and of all the poor people to whom I had +given and to whom I still give money. + +What, in point of fact, is that money which I give to the poor, and +which the cook's wife thought I was giving to her? In the majority +of cases, it is that portion of my substance which it is impossible +even to express in figures to Semyon and the cook's wife,--it is +generally one millionth part or about that. I give so little that +the bestowal of any money is not and cannot be a deprivation to me; +it is only a pleasure in which I amuse myself when the whim seizes +me. And it was thus that the cook's wife understood it. If I give +to a man who steps in from the street one ruble or twenty kopeks, why +should not I give her a ruble also? In the opinion of the cook's +wife, such a bestowal of money is precisely the same as the flinging +of honey-cakes to the people by gentlemen; it furnishes the people +who have a great deal of superfluous cash with amusement. I was +mortified because the mistake made by the cook's wife demonstrated to +me distinctly the view which she, and all people who are not rich, +must take of me: "He is flinging away his folly, i.e., his unearned +money." + +As a matter of fact, what is my money, and whence did it come into my +possession? A portion of it I accumulated from the land which I +received from my father. A peasant sold his last sheep or cow in +order to give the money to me. Another portion of my money is the +money which I have received for my writings, for my books. If my +books are hurtful, I only lead astray those who purchase them, and +the money which I receive for them is ill-earned money; but if my +books are useful to people, then the issue is still more disastrous. +I do not give them to people: I say, "Give me seventeen rubles, and +I will give them to you." And as the peasant sells his last sheep, +in this case the poor student or teacher, or any other poor man, +deprives himself of necessaries in order to give me this money. And +so I have accumulated a great deal of money in that way, and what do +I do with it? I take that money to the city, and bestow it on the +poor, only when they fulfil my caprices, and come hither to the city +to clean my sidewalk, lamps, and shoes; to work for me in factories. +And in return for this money, I force from them every thing that I +can; that is to say, I try to give them as little as possible, and to +receive as much as possible from them. And all at once I begin, +quite unexpectedly, to bestow this money as a simple gift, on these +same poor persons, not on all, but on those to whom I take a fancy. +Why should not every poor person expect that it is quite possible +that the luck may fall to him of being one of those with whom I shall +amuse myself by distributing my superfluous money? And so all look +upon me as the cook's wife did. + +And I had gone so far astray that this taking of thousands from the +poor with one hand, and this flinging of kopeks with the other, to +those to whom the whim moved me to give, I called good. No wonder +that I felt ashamed.] {17} + +Yes, before doing good it was needful for me to stand outside of +evil, in such conditions that I might cease to do evil. But my whole +life is evil. I may give away a hundred thousand rubles, and still I +shall not be in a position to do good because I shall still have five +hundred thousand left. Only when I have nothing shall I be in a +position to do the least particle of good, even as much as the +prostitute did which she nursed the sick women and her child for +three days. And that seemed so little to me! And I dared to think +of good myself! That which, on the first occasion, told me, at the +sight of the cold and hungry in the Lyapinsky house, that I was to +blame for this, and that to live as I live is impossible, and +impossible, and impossible,--that alone was true. + +What, then, was I to do? + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +It was hard for me to come to this confession, but when I had come to +it I was shocked at the error in which I had been living. I stood up +to my ears in the mud, and yet I wanted to drag others out of this +mud. + +What is it that I wish in reality? I wish to do good to others. I +wish to do it so that other people may not be cold and hungry, so +that others may live as it is natural for people to live. + +[I wish this, and I see that in consequence of the violence, +extortions, and various tricks in which I take part, people who toil +are deprived of necessaries, and people who do not toil, in whose +ranks I also belong, enjoy in superabundance the toil of other +people. + +I see that this enjoyment of the labors of others is so arranged, +that the more rascally and complicated the trickery which is employed +by the man himself, or which has been employed by the person from +whom he obtained his inheritance, the more does he enjoy of the +labors of others, and the less does he contribute of his own labor. + +First come the Shtiglitzy, Dervizy, Morozovy, the Demidoffs, the +Yusapoffs; then great bankers, merchants, officials, landed +proprietors, among whom I also belong; then the poor--very small +traders, dramshop-keepers, usurers, district judges, overseers, +teachers, sacristans, clerks; then house-porters, lackeys, coachmen, +watch-carriers, cab-drivers, peddlers; and last of all, the laboring +classes--factory-hands and peasants, whose numbers bear the relation +to the first named of ten to one. I see that the life of nine-tenths +of the working classes demands, by reason of its nature, application +and toil, as does every natural life; but that, in consequence of the +sharp practices which take from these people what is indispensable, +and place them in such oppressive conditions, this life becomes more +difficult every year, and more filled with deprivations; but our +life, the life of the non-laboring classes, thanks to the co- +operation of the arts and sciences which are directed to this object, +becomes more filled with superfluities, more attractive and careful, +with every year. I see, that, in our day, the life of the working- +man, and, in particular, the life of old men, of women, and of +children of the working population, is perishing directly from their +food, which is utterly inadequate to their fatiguing labor; and that +this life of theirs is not free from care as to its very first +requirements; and that, alongside of this, the life of the non- +laboring classes, to which I belong, is filled more and more, every +year, with superfluities and luxury, and becomes more and more free +from anxiety, and has finally reached such a point of freedom from +care, in the case of its fortunate members, of whom I am one, as was +only dreamed of in olden times in fairy-tales,--the state of the +owner of the purse with the inexhaustible ruble, that is, a condition +in which a man is not only utterly released from the law of labor, +but in which he possesses the possibility of enjoying, without toil, +all the blessings of life, and of transferring to his children, or to +any one whom he may see fit, this purse with the inexhaustible ruble. + +I see that the products of the people's toil are more and more +transformed from the mass of the working classes to those who do not +work; that the pyramid of the social edifice seems to be +reconstructed in such fashion that the foundation stones are carried +to the apex, and the swiftness of this transfer is increasing in a +sort of geometrical ratio. I see that the result of this is +something like that which would take place in an ant-heap if the +community of ants were to lose their sense of the common law, if some +ants were to begin to draw the products of labor from the bottom to +the top of the heap, and should constantly contract the foundations +and broaden the apex, and should thereby also force the remaining +ants to betake themselves from the bottom to the summit. + +I see that the ideal of the Fortunatus' purse has made its way among +the people, in the place of the ideal of a toilsome life. Rich +people, myself among the number, get possession of the inexhaustible +ruble by various devices, and for the purpose of enjoying it we go to +the city, to the place where nothing is produced and where every +thing is swallowed up. + +The industrious poor man, who is robbed in order that the rich may +possess this inexhaustible ruble, yearns for the city in his train; +and there he also takes to sharp practices, and either acquires for +himself a position in which he can work little and receive much, +thereby rendering still more oppressive the situation of the laboring +classes, or, not having attained to such a position, he goes to ruin, +and falls into the ranks of those cold and hungry inhabitants of the +night-lodging houses, which are being swelled with such remarkable +rapidity. + +I belong to the class of those people, who, by divers tricks, take +from the toiling masses the necessaries of life, and who have +acquired for themselves these inexhaustible rubles, and who lead +these unfortunates astray. I desire to aid people, and therefore it +is clear that, first of all, I must cease to rob them as I am doing. +But I, by the most complicated, and cunning, and evil practices, +which have been heaped up for centuries, have acquired for myself the +position of an owner of the inexhaustible ruble, that is to say, one +in which, never working myself, I can make hundreds and thousands of +people toil for me--which also I do; and I imagine that I pity +people, and I wish to assist them. I sit on a man's neck, I weigh +him down, and I demand that he shall carry me; and without descending +from his shoulders I assure myself and others that I am very sorry +for him, and that I desire to ameliorate his condition by all +possible means, only not by getting off of him. + +Surely this is simple enough. If I want to help the poor, that is, +to make the poor no longer poor, I must not produce poor people. And +I give, at my own selection, to poor men who have gone astray from +the path of life, a ruble, or ten rubles, or a hundred; and I grasp +hundreds from people who have not yet left the path, and thereby I +render them poor also, and demoralize them to boot. + +This is very simple; but it was horribly hard for me to understand +this fully without compromises and reservations, which might serve to +justify my position; but it sufficed for me to confess my guilt, and +every thing which had before seemed to me strange and complicated, +and lacking in cleanness, became perfectly comprehensible and simple. +But the chief point was, that my way of life, arising from this +interpretation, became simple, clear and pleasant, instead of +perplexed, inexplicable and full of torture as before.] {18} + +Who am I, that I should desire to help others? I desire to help +people; and I, rising at twelve o'clock after a game of vint {19} +with four candles, weak, exhausted, demanding the aid of hundreds of +people,--I go to the aid of whom? Of people who rise at five +o'clock, who sleep on planks, who nourish themselves on bread and +cabbage, who know how to plough, to reap, to wield the axe, to chop, +to harness, to sew,--of people who in strength and endurance, and +skill and abstemiousness, are a hundred times superior to me,--and I +go to their succor! What except shame could I feel, when I entered +into communion with these people? The very weakest of them, a +drunkard, an inhabitant of the Rzhanoff house, the one whom they call +"the idler," is a hundred-fold more industrious than I; [his balance, +so to speak, that is to say, the relation of what he takes from +people and that which they give him, stands on a thousand times +better footing than my balance, if I take into consideration what I +take from people and what I give to them.] {18} + +And these are the people to whose assistance I go. I go to help the +poor. But who is the poor man? There is no one poorer than myself. +I am a thoroughly enervated, good-for-nothing parasite, who can only +exist under the most special conditions, who can only exist when +thousands of people toil at the preservation of this life which is +utterly useless to every one. And I, that plant-louse, which devours +the foliage of trees, wish to help the tree in its growth and health, +and I wish to heal it. + +I have passed my whole life in this manner: I eat, I talk and I +listen; I eat, I write or read, that is to say, I talk and listen +again; I eat, I play, I eat, again I talk and listen, I eat, and +again I go to bed; and so each day I can do nothing else, and I +understand how to do nothing else. And in order that I may be able +to do this, it is necessary that the porter, the peasant, the cook, +male or female, the footman, the coachman, and the laundress, should +toil from morning till night; I will not refer to the labors of the +people which are necessary in order that coachman, cooks, male and +female, footman, and the rest should have those implements and +articles with which, and over which, they toil for my sake; axes, +tubs, brushes, household utensils, furniture, wax, blacking, +kerosene, hay, wood, and beef. And all these people work hard all +day long and every day, so that I may be able to talk and eat and +sleep. And I, this cripple of a man, have imagined that I could help +others, and those the very people who support me! + +It is not remarkable that I could not help any one, and that I felt +ashamed; but the remarkable point is that such an absurd idea could +have occurred to me. The woman who served the sick old man, helped +him; the mistress of the house, who cut a slice from the bread which +she had won from the soil, helped the beggar; Semyon, who gave three +kopeks which he had earned, helped the beggar, because those three +kopeks actually represented his labor: but I served no one, I toiled +for no one, and I was well aware that my money did not represent my +labor. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. {20} + + + +Into the delusion that I could help others I was led by the fact that +I fancied that my money was of the same sort as Semyon's. But this +was not the case. + +A general idea prevails, that money represents wealth; but wealth is +the product of labor; and, therefore, money represents labor. But +this idea is as just as that every governmental regulation is the +result of a compact (contrat social). + +Every one likes to think that money is only a medium of exchange for +labor. I have made shoes, you have raised grain, he has reared +sheep: here, in order that we may the more readily effect an +exchange, we will institute money, which represents a corresponding +quantity of labor, and, by means of it, we will barter our shoes for +a breast of lamb and ten pounds of flour. We will exchange our +products through the medium of money, and the money of each one of us +represents our labor. + +This is perfectly true, but true only so long as, in the community +where this exchange is effected, the violence of one man over the +rest has not made its appearance; not only violence over the labors +of others, as happens in wars and slavery, but where he exercises no +violence for the protection of the products of their labor from +others. This will be true only in a community whose members fully +carry out the Christian law, in a community where men give to him who +asks, and where he who takes is not asked to make restitution. But +just so soon as any violence whatever is used in the community, the +significance of money for its possessor loses its significance as a +representative of labor, and acquires the significance of a right +founded, not on labor, but on violence. + +As soon as there is war, and one man has taken any thing from any +other man, money can no longer be always the representative of labor; +money received by a warrior for the spoils of war, which he sells, +even if he is the commander of the warriors, is in no way a product +of labor, and possesses an entirely different meaning from money +received for work on shoes. As soon as there are slave-owners and +slaves, as there always have been throughout the whole world, it is +utterly impossible to say that money represents labor. + +Women have woven linen, sold it, and received money; serfs have woven +for their master, and the master has sold them and received the +money. The money is identical in both cases; but in the one case it +is the product of labor, in the other the product of violence. In +exactly the same way, a stranger or my own father has given me money; +and my father, when he gave me that money, knew, and I know, and +everybody knows, that no one can take this money away from me; but if +it should occur to any one to take it away from me, or even not to +hand it over at the date when it was promised, the law would +intervene on my behalf, and would compel the delivery to me of the +money; and, again, it is evident that this money can in no wise be +called the equivalent of labor, on a level with the money received by +Semyon for chopping wood. So that in any community where there is +any thing that in any manner whatever controls the labor of others, +or where violence hedges in, by means of money, its possessions from +others, there money is no longer invariably the representative of +labor. In such a community, it is sometimes the representative of +labor, and sometimes of violence. + +Thus it would be where only one act of violence from one man against +others, in the midst of perfectly free relations, should have made +its appearance; but now, when centuries of the most varied deeds of +violence have passed for accumulations of money, when these deeds of +violence are incessant, and merely alter their forms; when, as every +one admits, money accumulated itself represents violence; when money, +as a representative of direct labor, forms but a very small portion +of the money which is derived from every sort of violence,--to say +nowadays that money represents the labor of the person who possesses +it, is a self-evident error or a deliberate lie. + +It may be said, that thus it should be; it may be said, that this is +desirable; but by no means can it be said, that thus it is. + +Money represents labor. Yes. Money does represent labor; but whose? +In our society only in the very rarest, rarest of instances, does +money represent the labor of its possessor, but it nearly always +represents the labor of other people, the past or future labor of +men; it is a representative of the obligation of others to labor, +which has been established by force. + +Money, in its most accurate and at the same the simple application, +is the conventional stamp which confers a right, or, more correctly, +a possibility, of taking advantage of the labors of other people. In +its ideal significance, money should confer this right, or this +possibility, only when it serves as the equivalent of labor, and such +money might be in a community in which no violence existed. But just +as soon as violence, that is to say, the possibility of profiting by +the labors of others without toil of one's own, exists in a +community, then that profiting by the labors of other men is also +expressed by money, without any distinction of the persons on whom +that violence is exercised. + +The landed proprietor has imposed upon his serfs natural debts, a +certain quantity of linen, grain, and cattle, or a corresponding +amount of money. One household has procured the cattle, but has paid +money in lieu of linen. The proprietor takes the money to a certain +amount only, because he knows that for that money they will make him +the same quantity of linen, (generally he takes a little more, in +order to be sure that they will make it for the same amount); and +this money, evidently, represents for the proprietor the obligation +of other people to toil. + +The peasant gives the money as an obligation, to he knows not whom, +but to people, and there are many of them, who undertake for this +money to make so much linen. But the people who undertake to make +the linen, do so because they have not succeeded in raising sheep, +and in place of the sheep, they must pay money; but the peasant who +takes money for his sheep takes it because he must pay for grain +which did not bear well this year. The same thing goes on throughout +this realm, and throughout the whole world. + +A man sells the product of his labor, past, present or to come, +sometimes his food, and generally not because money constitutes for +him a convenient means of exchange. He could have effected the +barter without money, but he does so because money is exacted from +him by violence as a lien on his labor. + +When the sovereign of Egypt exacted labor from his slaves, the slaves +gave all their labor, but only their past and present labor, their +future labor they could not give. But with the dissemination of +money tokens, and the credit which had its rise in them, it became +possible to sell one's future toil for money. Money, with co- +existent violence in the community, only represents the possibility +of a new form of impersonal slavery, which has taken the place of +personal slavery. The slave-owner has a right to the labor of Piotr, +Ivan, and Sidor. But the owner of money, in a place where money is +demanded from all, has a right to the toil of all those nameless +people who are in need of money. Money has set aside all the +oppressive features of slavery, under which an owner knows his right +to Ivan, and with them it has set aside all humane relations between +the owner and the slave, which mitigated the burden of personal +thraldom. + +I will not allude to the fact, that such a condition of things is, +possibly, necessary for the development of mankind, for progress, and +so forth,--that I do not contest. I have merely tried to elucidate +to myself the idea of money, and that universal error into which I +fell when I accepted money as the representative of labor. I became +convinced, after experience, that money is not the representative of +labor, but, in the majority of cases, the representative of violence, +or of especially complicated sharp practices founded on violence. + +Money, in our day, has completely lost that significance which it is +very desirable that it should possess, as the representative of one's +own labor; such a significance it has only as an exception, but, as a +general rule, it has been converted into a right or a possibility of +profiting by the toil of others. + +The dissemination of money, of credit, and of all sorts of money +tokens, confirms this significance of money ever more and more. +Money is a new form of slavery, which differs from the old form of +slavery only in its impersonality, its annihilation of all humane +relations with the slave. + +Money--money, is a value which is always equal to itself, and is +always considered legal and righteous, and whose use is regarded as +not immoral, just as the right of slavery was regarded. + +In my young days, the game of loto was introduced into the clubs. +Everybody rushed to play it, and, as it was said, many ruined +themselves, rendered their families miserable, lost other people's +money, and government funds, and committed suicide; and the game was +prohibited, and it remains prohibited to this day. + +I remember to have seen old and unsentimental gamblers, who told me +that this game was particularly pleasing because you did not see from +whom you were winning, as is the case in other games; a lackey +brought, not money, but chips; each man lost a little stake, and his +disappointment was not visible . . . It is the same with roulette, +which is everywhere prohibited, and not without reason. + +It is the same with money. I possess a magic, inexhaustible ruble; I +cut off my coupons, and have retired from all the business of the +world. Whom do I injure,--I, the most inoffensive and kindest of +men? But this is nothing more than playing at loto or roulette, +where I do not see the man who shoots himself, because of his losses, +after procuring for me those coupons which I cut off from the bonds +so accurately with a strictly right-angled corner. + +I have done nothing, I do nothing, and I shall do nothing, except cut +off those coupons; and I firmly believe that money is the +representative of labor! Surely, this is amazing! And people talk +of madmen, after that! Why, what degree of lunacy can be more +frightful than this? A sensible, educated, in all other respects +sane man lives in a senseless manner, and soothes himself for not +uttering the word which it is indispensably necessary that he should +utter, with the idea that there is some sense in his conclusions, and +he considers himself a just man. Coupons--the representatives of +toil! Toil! Yes, but of whose toil? Evidently not of the man who +owns them, but of him who labors. + +Slavery is far from being suppressed. It has been suppressed in Rome +and in America, and among us: but only certain laws have been +abrogated; only the word, not the thing, has been put down. Slavery +is the freeing of ourselves alone from the toil which is necessary +for the satisfaction of our demands, by the transfer of this toil to +others; and wherever there exists a man who does not work, not +because others work lovingly for him, but where he possesses the +power of not working, and forces others to work for him, there +slavery exists. There too, where, as in all European societies, +there are people who make use of the labor of thousands of men, and +regard this as their right,--there slavery exists in its broadest +measure. + +And money is the same thing as slavery. Its object and its +consequences are the same. Its object is--that one may rid one's +self of the first born of all laws, as a profoundly thoughtful writer +from the ranks of the people has expressed it; from the natural law +of life, as we have called it; from the law of personal labor for the +satisfaction of our own wants. And the results of money are the same +as the results of slavery, for the proprietor; the creation, the +invention of new and ever new and never-ending demands, which can +never be satisfied; the enervation of poverty, vice, and for the +slaves, the persecution of man and their degradation to the level of +the beasts. + +Money is a new and terrible form of slavery, and equally demoralizing +with the ancient form of slavery for both slave and slave-owner; only +much worse, because it frees the slave and the slave-owner from their +personal, humane relations.] + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +I am always surprised by the oft-repeated words: "Yes, this is so in +theory, but how is it in practice?" Just as though theory were fine +words, requisite for conversation, but not for the purpose of having +all practice, that is, all activity, indispensably founded on them. +There must be a fearful number of stupid theories current in the +world, that such an extraordinary idea should have become prevalent. +Theory is what a man thinks on a subject, but its practice is what he +does. How can a man think it necessary to do so and so, and then do +the contrary? If the theory of baking bread is, that it must first +be mixed, and then set to rise, no one except a lunatic, knowing this +theory, would do the reverse. But it has become the fashion with us +to say, that "this is so in theory, but how about the practice?" + +In the matter which interests me now, that has been confirmed which I +have always thought,--that practice infallibly flows from theory, and +not that it justifies it, but it cannot possibly be otherwise, for if +I have understood the thing of which I have been thinking, then I +cannot carry out this thing otherwise than as I have understood it. + +I wanted to help the unfortunate only because I had money, and I +shared the general belief that money was the representative of labor, +or, on the whole, something legal and good. But, having begun to +give away this money, I saw, when I gave the bills which I had +accumulated from poor people, that I was doing precisely that which +was done by some landed proprietors who made some of their serfs wait +on others. I saw that every use of money, whether for making +purchases, or for giving away without an equivalent to another, is +handing over a note for extortion from the poor, or its transfer to +another man for extortion from the poor. I saw that money in itself +was not only not good, but evidently evil, and that it deprives us of +our highest good,--labor, and thereby of the enjoyment of our labor, +and that that blessing I was not in a position to confer on any one, +because I was myself deprived of it: I do not work, and I take no +pleasure in making use of the labor of others. + +It would appear that there is something peculiar in this abstract +argument as to the nature of money. But this argument which I have +made not for the sake of argument, but for the solution of the +problem of my life, of my sufferings, was for me an answer to my +question: What is to be done? + +As soon as I grasped the meaning of riches, and of money, it not only +became clear and indisputable to me, what I ought to do, but also +clear and indisputable what others ought to do, because they would +infallibly do it. I had only actually come to understand what I had +known for a long time previously, the theory which was given to men +from the very earliest times, both by Buddha, and Isaiah, and Lao- +Tze, and Socrates, and in a peculiarly clear and indisputable manner +by Jesus Christ and his forerunner, John the Baptist. John the +Baptist, in answer to the question of the people,--What were they to +do? replied simply, briefly, and clearly: "He that hath two coats, +let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him +do likewise" (Luke iii. 10, 11). In a similar manner, but with even +greater clearness, and on many occasions, Christ spoke. He said: +"Blessed are the poor, and woe to the rich." He said that it is +impossible to serve God and mammon. He forbade his disciples to take +not only money, but also two garments. He said to the rich young +man, that he could not enter into the kingdom of heaven because he +was rich, and that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of +a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. He said +that he who should not leave every thing, houses and children and +lands, and follow him, could not be his disciple. He told the +parable of the rich man who did nothing bad, like our own rich men, +but who only arrayed himself in costly garments, and ate and drank +daintily, and who lost his soul thereby; and of poor Lazarus, who had +done nothing good, but who was saved merely because he was poor. + +This theory was sufficiently familiar to me, but the false teachings +of the world had so obscured it that it had become for me a theory in +the sense which people are fond of attributing to that term, that is +to say, empty words. But as soon as I had succeeded in destroying in +my consciousness the sophisms of worldly teaching, theory conformed +to practice, and the truth with regard to my life and to the life of +the people about me became its conclusion. + +I understood that man, besides life for his own personal good, is +unavoidably bound to serve the good of others also; that, if we take +an illustration from the animal kingdom,--as some people are fond of +doing, defending violence and conflict by the conflict for existence +in the animal kingdom,--the illustration must be taken from +gregarious animals, like bees; that consequently man, not to mention +the love to his neighbor incumbent on him, is called upon, both by +reason and by his nature, to serve other people and the common good +of humanity. I comprehended that the natural law of man is that +according to which only he can fulfil destiny, and therefore be +happy. I understood that this law has been and is broken hereby,-- +that people get rid of labor by force (like the robber bees), make +use of the toil of others, directing this toil, not to the common +weal, but to the private satisfaction of swift-growing desires; and, +precisely as in the case of the robber bees, they perish in +consequence. [I understood that the original form of this +disinclination for the law is the brutal violence against weaker +individuals, against women, wars and imprisonments, whose sequel is +slavery, and also the present reign of money. I understood that +money is the impersonal and concealed enslavement of the poor. And, +once having perceived the significance of money as slavery, I could +not but hate it, nor refrain from doing all in my power to free +myself from it.] {21} + +When I was a slave-owner, and comprehended the immorality of my +position, I tried to escape from it. My escape consisted in this, +that I, regarding it as immoral, tried to exercise my rights as +slave-owner as little as possible, but to live, and to allow other +people to live, as though that right did not exist. And I cannot +refrain from doing the same thing now in reference to the present +form of slavery,--exercising my right to the labor of others as +little as possible, i.e., hiring and purchasing as little as +possible. + +The root of every slavery is the use of the labor of others; and +hence, the compelling others to it is founded indifferently on my +right to the slave, or on my possession of money which is +indispensable to him. If I really do not approve, and if I regard as +an evil, the employment of the labor of others, then I shall use +neither my right nor my money for that purpose; I shall not compel +others to toil for me, but I shall endeavor to free them from the +labor which they have performed for me, as far as possible, either by +doing without this labor or by performing it for myself. + +And this very simple and unavoidable deduction enters into all the +details of my life, effects a total change in it, and at one blow +releases me from those moral sufferings which I have undergone at the +sight of the sufferings and the vice of the people, and instantly +annihilates all three causes of my inability to aid the poor, which I +had encountered while seeking the cause of my lack of success. + +The first cause was the herding of the people in towns, and the +absorption there of the wealth of the country. All that a man needs +is to understand how every hiring or purchase is a handle to +extortion from the poor, and that therefore he must abstain from +them, and must try to fulfil his own requirements; and not a single +man will then quit the country, where all wants can be satisfied +without money, for the city, where it is necessary to buy every +thing: and in the country he will be in a position to help the +needy, as has been my own experience and the experience of every one +else. + +The second cause is the estrangement of the rich from the poor. A +man needs but to refrain from buying, from hiring, and, disdaining no +sort of work, to satisfy his requirements himself, and the former +estrangement will immediately be annihilated, and the man, having +rejected luxury and the services of others, will amalgamate with the +mass of the working people, and, standing shoulder to shoulder with +the working people, he can help them. + +The third cause was shame, founded on a consciousness of immorality +in my owning that money with which I desired to help people. All +that is required is: to understand the significance of money as +impersonal slavery, which it has acquired among us, in order to +escape for the future from falling into the error according to which +money, though evil in itself, can be an instrument of good, and in +order to refrain from acquiring money; and to rid one's self of it in +order to be in a position to do good to people, that is, to bestow on +them one's labor, and not the labor of another. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +[I saw that money is the cause of suffering and vice among the +people, and that, if I desired to help people, the first thing that +was required of me was not to create those unfortunates whom I wished +to assist. + +I came to the conclusion that the man who does not love vice and the +suffering of the people should not make use of money, thus presenting +an inducement to extortion from the poor, by forcing them to work for +him; and that, in order not to make use of the toil of others, he +must demand as little from others as possible, and work as much as +possible himself.] {22} + +By dint of a long course of reasoning, I came to this inevitable +conclusion, which was drawn thousands of years ago by the Chinese in +the saying, "If there is one idle man, there is another dying with +hunger to offset him. + +[Then what are we to do? John the Baptist gave the answer to this +very question two thousand years ago. And when the people asked him, +"What are we to do?" he said, "Let him that hath two garments impart +to him that hath none, and let him that hath meat do the same." What +is the meaning of giving away one garment out of two, and half of +one's food? It means giving to others every superfluity, and +thenceforth taking nothing superfluous from people. + +This expedient, which furnishes such perfect satisfaction to the +moral feelings, kept my eyes fast bound, and binds all our eyes; and +we do not see it, but gaze aside. + +This is precisely like a personage on the stage, who had entered a +long time since, and all the spectators see him, and it is obvious +that the actors cannot help seeing him, but the point on the stage +lies in the acting characters pretending not to see him, and in +suffering from his absence.] {23} + +Thus we, in our efforts to recover from our social diseases, search +in all quarters, governmental and anti-governmental, and in +scientific and in philanthropic superstitions; and we do not see what +is perfectly visible to every eye. + +For the man who really suffers from the sufferings of the people who +surround us, there exists the very plainest, simplest, and easiest +means; the only possible one for the cure of the evil about us, and +for the acquisition of a consciousness of the legitimacy of his life; +the one given by John the Baptist, and confirmed by Christ: not to +have more than one garment, and not to have money. And not to have +any money, means, not to employ the labor of others, and hence, first +of all, to do with our own hands every thing that we can possibly do. + +This is so clear and simple! But it is clear and simple when the +requirements are simple. I live in the country. I lie on the oven, +and I order my debtor, my neighbor, to chop wood and light my fire. +It is very clear that I am lazy, and that I tear my neighbor away +from his affairs, and I shall feel mortified, and I shall find it +tiresome to lie still all the time; and I shall go and split my wood +for myself. + +But the delusion of slavery of all descriptions lies so far back, so +much of artificial exaction has sprung up upon it, so many people, +accustomed in different degrees to these habits, are interwoven with +each other, enervated people, spoiled for generations, and such +complicated delusions and justifications for their luxury and +idleness have been devised by people, that it is far from being so +easy for a man who stands at the summit of the ladder of idle people +to understand his sin, as it is for the peasant who has made his +neighbor build his fire. + +It is terribly difficult for people at the top of this ladder to +understand what is required of them. [Their heads are turned by the +height of this ladder of lies, upon which they find themselves when a +place on the ground is offered to them, to which they must descend in +order to begin to live, not yet well, but no longer cruelly, +inhumanly; for this reason, this clear and simple truth appears +strange to these people. For the man with ten servants, liveries, +coachmen, cooks, pictures, pianofortes, that will infallibly appear +strange, and even ridiculous, which is the simplest, the first act +of--I will not say every good man--but of every man who is not +wicked: to cut his own wood with which his food is cooked, and with +which he warms himself; to himself clean those boots with which he +has heedlessly stepped in the mire; to himself fetch that water with +which he preserves his cleanliness, and to carry out that dirty water +in which he has washed himself.] {24} + +But, besides the remoteness of people from the truth, there is +another cause which prevents people from seeing the obligation for +them of the simplest and most natural personal, physical labor for +themselves: this is the complication, the inextricability of the +conditions, the advantage of all the people who are bound together +among themselves by money, in which the rich man lives: My luxurious +life feeds people. What would become of my old valet if I were to +discharge him? What! we must all do every thing necessary,--make our +clothes and hew wood? . . . And how about the division of labor?" + +[This morning I stepped out into the corridor where the fires were +being built. A peasant was making a fire in the stove which warms my +son's room. I went in; the latter was asleep. It was eleven o'clock +in the morning. To-day is a holiday: there is some excuse, there +are no lessons. + +The smooth-skinned, eighteen-year-old youth, with a beard, who had +eaten his fill on the preceding evening, sleeps until eleven o'clock. +But the peasant of his age had been up at dawn, and had got through a +quantity of work, and was attending to his tenth stove, while the +former slept. "The peasant shall not make the fire in his stove to +warm that smooth, lazy body of his!" I thought. But I immediately +recollected that this stove also warmed the room of the housekeeper, +a woman forty years of age, who, on the evening before, had been +making preparations up to three o'clock in the morning for the supper +which my son had eaten, and that she had cleared the table, and risen +at seven, nevertheless. The peasant was building the fire for her +also. And under her name the lazybones was warming himself. + +It is true that the interests of all are interwoven; but, even +without any prolonged reckoning, the conscience of each man will say +on whose side lies labor, and on whose idleness. But although +conscience says this, the account-book, the cash-book, says it still +more clearly. The more money any one spends, the more idle he is, +that is to say, the more he makes others work for him. The less he +spends, the more he works.] {25} But trade, but public undertakings, +and, finally, the most terrible of words, culture, the development of +sciences, and the arts,--what of them? + +[If I live I will make answer to those points, and in detail; and +until such answer I will narrate the following.] {25} + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +LIFE IN THE CITY. + +Last year, in March, I was returning home late at night. As I turned +from the Zubova into Khamovnitchesky Lane, I saw some black spots on +the snow of the Dyevitchy Pole (field). Something was moving about +in one place. I should not have paid any attention to this, if the +policeman who was standing at the end of the street had not shouted +in the direction of the black spots, - + +"Vasily! why don't you bring her in?" + +"She won't come!" answered a voice, and then the spot moved towards +the policeman. + +I halted and asked the police-officer, "What is it?" + +He said,--"They are taking a girl from the Rzhanoff house to the +station-house; and she is hanging back, she won't walk." A house- +porter in a sheepskin coat was leading her. She was walking forward, +and he was pushing her from behind. All of us, I and the porter and +the policeman, were dressed in winter clothes, but she had nothing on +over her dress. In the darkness I could make out only her brown +dress, and the kerchiefs on her head and neck. She was short in +stature, as is often the case with the prematurely born, with small +feet, and a comparatively broad and awkward figure. + +"We're waiting for you, you carrion. Get along, what do you mean by +it? I'll give it to you!" shouted the policeman. He was evidently +tired, and he had had too much of her. She advanced a few paces, and +again halted. + +The little old porter, a good-natured fellow (I know him), tugged at +her hand. "Here, I'll teach you to stop! On with you!" he repeated, +as though in anger. She staggered, and began to talk in a discordant +voice. At every sound there was a false note, both hoarse and +whining. + +"Come now, you're shoving again. I'll get there some time!" + +She stopped and then went on. I followed them. + +"You'll freeze," said the porters + +"The likes of us don't freeze: I'm hot." + +She tried to jest, but her words sounded like scolding. She halted +again under the lantern which stands not far from our house, and +leaned against, almost hung over, the fence, and began to fumble for +something among her skirts, with benumbed and awkward hands. Again +they shouted at her, but she muttered something and did something. +In one hand she held a cigarette bent into a bow, in the other a +match. I paused behind her; I was ashamed to pass her, and I was +ashamed to stand and look on. But I made up my mind, and stepped +forward. Her shoulder was lying against the fence, and against the +fence it was that she vainly struck the match and flung it away. I +looked in her face. She was really a person prematurely born; but, +as it seemed to me, already an old woman. I credited her with thirty +years. A dirty hue of face; small, dull, tipsy eyes; a button-like +nose; curved moist lips with drooping corners, and a short wisp of +harsh hair escaping from beneath her kerchief; a long flat figure, +stumpy hands and feet. I paused opposite her. She stared at me, and +burst into a laugh, as though she knew all that was going on in my +mind. + +I felt that it was necessary to say something to her. I wanted to +show her that I pitied her. + +"Are your parents alive?" I inquired. + +She laughed hoarsely, with an expression which said, "he's making up +queer things to ask." + +"My mother is," said she. "But what do you want?" + +"And how old are you?" + +"Sixteen," said she, answering promptly to a question which was +evidently customary. + +"Come, march, you'll freeze, you'll perish entirely," shouted the +policeman; and she swayed away from the fence, and, staggering along, +she went down Khamovnitchesky Lane to the police-station; and I +turned to the wicket, and entered the house, and inquired whether my +daughters had returned. I was told that they had been to an evening +party, had had a very merry time, had come home, and were in bed. + +Next morning I wanted to go to the station-house to learn what had +been done with this unfortunate woman, and I was preparing to go out +very early, when there came to see me one of those unlucky noblemen, +who, through weakness, have dropped from the gentlemanly life to +which they are accustomed, and who alternately rise and fall. I had +been acquainted with this man for three years. In the course of +those three years, this man had several times made way with every +thing that he had, and even with all his clothes; the same thing had +just happened again, and he was passing the nights temporarily in the +Rzhanoff house, in the night-lodging section, and he had come to me +for the day. He met me as I was going out, at the entrance, and +without listening to me he began to tell me what had taken place in +the Rzhanoff house the night before. He began his narrative, and did +not half finish it; all at once (he is an old man who has seen men +under all sorts of aspects) he burst out sobbing, and flooded has +countenance with tears, and when he had become silent, turned has +face to the wall. This is what he told me. Every thing that he +related to me was absolutely true. I authenticated his story on the +spot, and learned fresh particulars which I will relate separately. + +In that night-lodging house, on the lower floor, in No. 32, in which +my friend had spent the night, among the various, ever-changing +lodgers, men and women, who came together there for five kopeks, +there was a laundress, a woman thirty years of age, light-haired, +peaceable and pretty, but sickly. The mistress of the quarters had a +boatman lover. In the summer her lover kept a boat, and in the +winter they lived by letting accommodations to night-lodgers: three +kopeks without a pillow, five kopeks with a pillow. + +The laundress had lived there for several months, and was a quiet +woman; but latterly they had not liked her, because she coughed and +prevented the women from sleeping. An old half-crazy woman eighty +years old, in particular, also a regular lodger in these quarters, +hated the laundress, and imbittered the latter's life because she +prevented her sleeping, and cleared her throat all night like a +sheep. The laundress held her peace; she was in debt for her +lodgings, and was conscious of her guilt, and therefore she was bound +to be quiet. She began to go more and more rarely to her work, as +her strength failed her, and therefore she could not pay her +landlady; and for the last week she had not been out to work at all, +and had only poisoned the existence of every one, especially of the +old woman, who also did not go out, with her cough. Four days before +this, the landlady had given the laundress notice to leave the +quarters: the latter was already sixty kopeks in debt, and she +neither paid them, nor did the landlady foresee any possibility of +getting them; and all the bunks were occupied, and the women all +complained of the laundress's cough. + +When the landlady gave the laundress notice, and told her that she +must leave the lodgings if she did not pay up, the old woman rejoiced +and thrust the laundress out of doors. The laundress departed, but +returned in an hour, and the landlady had not the heart to put her +out again. And the second and the third day, she did not turn her +out. "Where am I to go?" said the laundress. But on the third day, +the landlady's lover, a Moscow man, who knew the regulations and how +to manage, sent for the police. A policeman with sword and pistol on +a red cord came to the lodgings, and with courteous words he led the +laundress into the street. + +It was a clear, sunny, but freezing March day. The gutters were +flowing, the house-porters were picking at the ice. The cabman's +sleigh jolted over the icy snow, and screeched over the stones. The +laundress walked up the street on the sunny side, went to the church, +and seated herself at the entrance, still on the sunny side. But +when the sun began to sink behind the houses, the puddles began to be +skimmed over with a glass of frost, and the laundress grew cold and +wretched. She rose, and dragged herself . . . whither? Home, to the +only home where she had lived so long. While she was on her way, +resting at times, dusk descended. She approached the gates, turned +in, slipped, groaned and fell. + +One man came up, and then another. "She must be drunk." Another man +came up, and stumbled over the laundress, and said to the potter: +"What drunken woman is this wallowing at your gate? I came near +breaking my head over her; take her away, won't you?" + +The porter came. The laundress was dead. This is what my friend +told me. It may be thought that I have wilfully mixed up facts,--I +encounter a prostitute of fifteen, and the story of this laundress. +But let no one imagine this; it is exactly what happened in the +course of one night (only I do not remember which) in March, 1884. +And so, after hearing my friend's tale, I went to the station-house, +with the intention of proceeding thence to the Rzhanoff house to +inquire more minutely into the history of the laundress. The weather +was very beautiful and sunny; and again, through the stars of the +night-frost, water was to be seen trickling in the shade, and in the +glare of the sun on Khamovnitchesky square every thing was melting, +and the water was streaming. The river emitted a humming noise. The +trees of the Neskutchny garden looked blue across the river; the +reddish-brown sparrows, invisible in winter, attracted attention by +their sprightliness; people also seemed desirous of being merry, but +all of them had too many cares. The sound of the bells was audible, +and at the foundation of these mingling sounds, the sounds of shots +could be heard from the barracks, the whistle of rifle-balls and +their crack against the target. + +I entered the station-house. In the station some armed policemen +conducted me to their chief. He was similarly armed with sword and +pistol, and he was engaged in taking some measures with regard to a +tattered, trembling old man, who was standing before him, and who +could not answer the questions put to him, on account of his +feebleness. Having finished his business with the old man, he turned +to me. I inquired about the girl of the night before. At first he +listened to me attentively, but afterwards he began to smile, at my +ignorance of the regulations, in consequence of which she had been +taken to the station-house; and particularly at my surprise at her +youth. + +"Why, there are plenty of them of twelve, thirteen, or fourteen years +of age," he said cheerfully. + +But in answer to my question about the girl whom I had seen on the +preceding evening, he explained to me that she must have been sent to +the committee (so it appeared). To my question where she had passed +the night, he replied in an undecided manner. He did not recall the +one to whom I referred. There were so many of them every day. + +In No. 32 of the Rzhanoff house I found the sacristan already reading +prayers over the dead woman. They had taken her to the bunk which +she had formerly occupied; and the lodgers, all miserable beings, had +collected money for the masses for her soul, a coffin and a shroud, +and the old women had dressed her and laid her out. The sacristan +was reading something in the gloom; a woman in a long wadded cloak +was standing there with a wax candle; and a man (a gentleman, I must +state) in a clean coat with a lamb's-skin collar, polished overshoes, +and a starched shirt, was holding one like it. This was her brother. +They had hunted him up. + +I went past the dead woman to the landlady's nook, and questioned her +about the whole business. + +She was alarmed at my queries; she was evidently afraid that she +would be blamed for something; but afterwards she began to talk +freely, and told me every thing. As I passed back, I glanced at the +dead woman. All dead people are handsome, but this dead woman was +particularly beautiful and touching in her coffin; her pure, pale +face, with closed swollen eyes, sunken cheeks, and soft reddish hair +above the lofty brow,--a weary and kind and not a sad but a surprised +face. And in fact, if the living do not see, the dead are surprised. + +On the same day that I wrote the above, there was a great ball in +Moscow. + +That night I left the house at nine o'clock. I live in a locality +which is surrounded by factories, and I left the house after the +factory-whistles had sounded, releasing the people for a day of +freedom after a week of unremitting toil. + +Factory-hands overtook me, and I overtook others of them, directing +their steps to the drinking-shops and taverns. Many were already +intoxicated, many were women. Every morning at five o'clock we can +hear one whistle, a second, a third, a tenth, and so forth, and so +forth. That means that the toil of women, children, and of old men +has begun. At eight o'clock another whistle, which signifies a +breathing-spell of half an hour. At twelve, a third: this means an +hour for dinner. And a fourth at eight, which denotes the end of the +day. + +By an odd coincidence, all three of the factories which are situated +near me produce only articles which are in demand for balls. + +In one factory, the nearest, only stockings are made; in another +opposite, silken fabrics; in the third, perfumes and pomades. + +It is possible to listen to these whistles, and connect no other idea +with them than as denoting the time: "There's the whistle already, +it is time to go to walk." But one can also connect with those +whistles that which they signify in reality; that first whistle, at +five o'clock, means that people, often all without exception, both +men and women, sleeping in a damp cellar, must rise, and hasten to +that building buzzing with machines, and must take their places at +their work, whose end and use for themselves they do not see, and +thus toil, often in heat and a stifling atmosphere, in the midst of +dirt, and with the very briefest breathing-spells, an hour, two +hours, three hours, twelve, and even more hours in succession. They +fall into a doze, and again they rise. And this, for them, senseless +work, to which they are driven only by necessity, is continued over +and over again. + +And thus one week succeeds another with the breaks of holidays; and I +see these work-people released on one of these holidays. They emerge +into the street. Everywhere there are drinking-shops, taverns, and +loose girls. And they, in their drunken state, drag by the hand each +other, and girls like the one whom I saw taken to the station-house; +they drag with them cabmen, and they ride and they walk from one +tavern to another; and they curse and stagger, and say they +themselves know not what. I had previously seen such unsteady gait +on the part of factory-hands, and had turned aside in disgust, and +had been on the point of rebuking them; but ever since I have been in +the habit of hearing those whistles every day, and understand their +meaning, I am only amazed that they, all the men, do not come to the +condition of the "golden squad," of which Moscow is full, {26} [and +the women to the state of the one whom I had seen near my house]. +{27} + +Thus I walked along, and scrutinized these factory-hands, as long as +they roamed the streets, which was until eleven o'clock. Then their +movements began to calm down. Some drunken men remained here and +there, and here and there I encountered men who were being taken to +the station-house. And then carriages began to make their appearance +on all sides, directing their course toward one point. + +On the box sits a coachman, sometimes in a sheepskin coat; and a +footman, a dandy, with a cockade. Well-fed horses in saddle-cloths +fly through the frost at the rate of twenty versts an hour; in the +carriages sit ladies muffled in round cloaks, and carefully tending +their flowers and head-dresses. Every thing from the horse- +trappings, the carriages, the gutta-percha wheels, the cloth of the +coachman's coat, to the stockings, shoes, flowers, velvet, gloves, +and perfumes,--every thing is made by those people, some of whom +often roll drunk into their dens or sleeping-rooms, and some stay +with disreputable women in the night-lodging houses, while still +others are put in jail. Thus past them in all their work, and over +them all, ride the frequenters of balls; and it never enters their +heads, that there is any connection between these balls to which they +make ready to go, and these drunkards at whom their coachman shouts +so roughly. + +These people enjoy themselves at the ball with the utmost composure +of spirit, and assurance that they are doing nothing wrong, but +something very good. Enjoy themselves! Enjoy themselves from eleven +o'clock until six in the morning, in the very dead of night, at the +very hour when people are tossing and turning with empty stomachs in +the night-lodging houses, and while some are dying, as did the +laundress. + +Their enjoyment consists in this,--that the women and young girls, +having bared their necks and arms, and applied bustles behind, place +themselves in a situation in which no uncorrupted woman or maiden +would care to display herself to a man, on any consideration in the +world; and in this half-naked condition, with their uncovered bosoms +exposed to view, with arms bare to the shoulder, with a bustle behind +and tightly swathed hips, under the most brilliant light, women and +maidens, whose chief virtue has always been modesty, exhibit +themselves in the midst of strange men, who are also clad in +improperly tight-fitting garments; and to the sound of maddening +music, they embrace and whirl. Old women, often as naked as the +young ones, sit and look on, and eat and drink savory things; old men +do the same. It is not to be wondered at that this should take place +at night, when all the common people are asleep, so that no one may +see them. But this is not done with the object of concealment: it +seems to them that there is nothing to conceal; that it is a very +good thing; that by this merry-making, in which the labor of +thousands of toiling people is destroyed, they not only do not injure +any one, but that by this very act they furnish the poor with the +means of subsistence. Possibly it is very merry at balls. But how +does this come about? When we see that there is a man in the +community, in our midst, who has had no food, or who is freezing, we +regret our mirth, and we cannot be cheerful until he is fed and +warmed, not to mention the impossibility of imagining people who can +indulge in such mirth as causes suffering to others. The mirth of +wicked little boys, who pitch a dog's tail in a split stick, and make +merry over it, is repulsive and incomprehensible to us. + +In the same manner here, in these diversions of ours, blindness has +fallen upon us, and we do not see the split stick with which we have +pitched all those people who suffer for our amusement. + +[We live as though there were no connection between the dying +laundress, the prostitute of fourteen, and our own life; and yet the +connection between them strikes us in the face. + +We may say: "But we personally have not pinched any tail in a +stick;" but we have no right, to deny that had the tail not been +pitched, our merry-making would not have taken place. We do not see +what connection exists between the laundress and our luxury; but that +is not because no such connection does exist, but because we have +placed a screen in front of us, so that we may not see. + +If there were no screen, we should see that which it is impossible +not to see.] {28} + +Surely all the women who attended that ball in dresses worth a +hundred and fifty rubles each were born not in a ballroom, or at +Madame Minanguoit's; but they have lived in the country, and have +seen the peasants; they know their own nurse and maid, whose father +and brother are poor, for whom the earning of a hundred and fifty +rubles for a cottage is the object of a long, laborious life. Each +woman knows this. How could she enjoy herself, when she knew that +she wore on her bared body at that ball the cottage which is the +dream of her good maid's father and brother? But let us suppose that +she could not make this reflection; but since velvet and silk and +flowers and lace and dresses do not grow of themselves, but are made +by people, it would seem that she could not help knowing what sort of +people make all these things, and under what conditions, and why they +do it. She cannot fail to know that the seamstress, with whom she +has already quarrelled, did not make her dress in the least out of +love for her; therefore, she cannot help knowing that all these +things were made for her as a matter of necessity, that her laces, +flowers, and velvet have been made in the same way as her dress. + +But possibly they are in such darkness that they do not consider +this. One thing she cannot fail to know,--that five or six elderly +and respectable, often sick, lackeys and maids have had no sleep, and +have been put to trouble on her account. She has seen their weary, +gloomy faces. She could not help knowing this also, that the cold +that night reached twenty-eight degrees below zero, {29} and that the +old coachman sat all night long in that temperature on his box. But +I know that they really do not see this. And if they, these young +women and girls, do not see this, on account of the hypnotic state +superinduced in them by balls, it is impossible to condemn them. +They, poor things, have done what is considered right by their +elders; but how are their elders to explain away this their cruelty +to the people? + +The elders always offer the explanation: "I compel no one. I +purchase my things; I hire my men, my maid-servants, and my coachman. +There is nothing wrong in buying and hiring. I force no one's +inclination: I hire, and what harm is there in that?" + +I recently went to see an acquaintance. As I passed through one of +the rooms, I was surprised to see two women seated at a table, as I +knew that my friend was a bachelor. A thin, yellow, old-fashioned +woman, thirty years of age, in a dress that had been carelessly +thrown on, was doing something with her hands and fingers on the +table, with great speed, trembling nervously the while, as though in +a fit. Opposite her sat a young girl, who was also engaged in +something, and who trembled in the same manner. Both women appeared +to be afflicted with St. Vitus' dance. I stepped nearer to them, and +looked to see what they were doing. They raised their eyes to me, +but went on with their work with the same intentness. In front of +them lay scattered tobacco and paper cases. They were making +cigarettes. The woman rubbed the tobacco between her hands, pushed +it into the machine, slipped on the cover, thrust the tobacco +through, then tossed it to the girl. The girl twisted the paper, +and, making it fast, threw it aside, and took up another. All thus +was done with such swiftness, with such intentness, as it is +impossible to describe to a man who has never seen it done. I +expressed my surprise at their quickness. + +"I have been doing nothing else for fourteen years," said the woman. + +"Is it hard?" + +"Yes: it pains my chest, and makes my breathing hard." + +It was not necessary for her to add this, however. A look at the +girl sufficed. She had worked at this for three years, but any one +who had not seen her at this occupation would have said that here was +a strong organism which was beginning to break down. + +My friend, a kind and liberal man, hires these women to fill his +cigarettes at two rubles fifty kopeks the thousand. He has money, +and he spends it for work. What harm is there in that? My friend +rises at twelve o'clock. He passes the evening, from six until two, +at cards, or at the piano. He eats and drinks savory things; others +do all his work for him. He has devised a new source of pleasure,-- +smoking. He has taken up smoking within my memory. + +Here is a woman, and here is a girl, who can barely support +themselves by turning themselves into machines, and they pass their +whole lives inhaling tobacco, and thereby running their health. He +has money which he never earned, and he prefers to play at whist to +making his own cigarettes. He gives these women money on condition +that they shall continue to live in the same wretched manner in which +they are now living, that is to say, by making his cigarettes. + +I love cleanliness, and I give money only on the condition that the +laundress shall wash the shirt which I change twice a day; and that +shirt has destroyed the laundress's last remaining strength, and she +has died. What is there wrong about that? People who buy and hire +will continue to force other people to make velvet and confections, +and will purchase them, without me; and no matter what I may do, they +will hire cigarettes made and shirts washed. Then why should I +deprive myself of velvet and confections and cigarettes and clean +shirts, if things are definitively settled thus? This is the +argument which I often, almost always, hear. This is the very +argument which makes the mob which is destroying something, lose its +senses. This is the very argument by which dogs are guided when one +of them has flung himself on another dog, and overthrown him, and the +rest of the pack rush up also, and tear their comrade in pieces. +Other people have begun it, and have wrought mischief; then why +should not I take advantage of it? Well, what will happen if I wear +a soiled shirt, and make my own cigarettes? Will that make it easier +for anybody else? ask people who would like to justify their course. +If it were not so far from the truth, it would be a shame to answer +such a question, but we have become so entangled that this question +seems very natural to us; and hence, although it is a shame, it is +necessary to reply to it. + +What difference will it make if I wear one shirt a week, and make may +own cigarettes, or do not smoke at all? This difference, that some +laundress and some cigarette-maker will exert their strength less, +and that what I have spent for washing and for the making of +cigarettes I can give to that very laundress, or even to other +laundresses and toilers who are worn out with their labor, and who, +instead of laboring beyond their strength, will then be able to rest, +and drink tea. But to this I hear an objection. (It is so +mortifying to rich and luxurious people to understand their +position.) To this they say: "If I go about in a dirty shirt, and +give up smoking, and hand over this money to the poor, the poor will +still be deprived of every thing, and that drop in the sea of yours +will help not at all." + +Such an objection it is a shame to answer. It is such a common +retort. {30} + +If I had gone among savages, and they had regaled me with cutlets +which struck me as savory, and if I should learn on the following day +that these savory cutlets had been made from a prisoner whom they had +slain for the sake of the savory cutlets, if I do not admit that it +is a good thing to eat men, then, no matter how dainty the cutlets, +no matter how universal the practice of eating men may be among my +fellows, however insignificant the advantage to prisoners, prepared +for consumption, may be my refusal to eat of the cutlets, I will not +and I can not eat any more of them. I may, possibly, eat human +flesh, when hunger compels me to it; but I will not make a feast, and +I will not take part in feasts, of human flesh, and I will not seek +out such feasts, and pride myself on my share in them. + + +LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. + + +But what is to be done? Surely it is not we who have done this? And +if not we, who then? + +We say: "We have not done this, this has done itself;" as the +children say, when they break any thing, that it broke itself. We +say, that, so long as there is a city already in existence, we, by +living in it, support the people, by purchasing their labor and +services. But this is not so. And this is why. We only need to +look ourselves, at the way we have in the country, and at the manner +in which we support people there. + +The winter passes in town. Easter Week passes. On the boulevards, +in the gardens in the parks, on the river, there is music. There are +theatres, water-trips, walks, all sorts of illuminations and +fireworks. But in the country there is something even better,--there +are better air, trees and meadows, and the flowers are fresher. One +should go thither where all these things have unfolded and blossomed +forth. And the majority of wealthy people do go to the country to +breathe the superior air, to survey these superior forests and +meadows. And there the wealthy settle down in the country, and the +gray peasants, who nourish themselves on bread and onions, who toil +eighteen hours a day, who get no sound sleep by night, and who are +clad in blouses. Here no one has led these people astray. There +have been no factories nor industrial establishments, and there are +none of those idle hands, of which there are so many in the city. +Here the whole population never succeeds, all summer long, in +completing all their tasks in season; and not only are there no idle +hands, but a vast quantity of property is ruined for the lack of +hands, and a throng of people, children, old men, and women, will +perish through overstraining their powers in work which is beyond +their strength. How do the rich order their lives there? In this +fashion:- + +If there is an old-fashioned house, built under the serf regime, that +house is repaired and embellished; if there is none, then a new one +is erected, of two or three stories. The rooms, of which there are +from twelve to twenty, and even more, are all six arshins in height. +{31} Wood floors are laid down. The windows consist of one sheet of +glass. There are rich rugs and costly furniture. The roads around +the house are macadamized, the ground is levelled, flower-beds are +laid out, croquet-grounds are prepared, swinging-rings for gymnastics +are erected, reflecting globes, often orangeries, and hotbeds, and +lofty stables always with complicated scroll-work on the gables and +ridges. + +And here, in the country, an honest educated official, or noble +family dwells. All the members of the family and their guests have +assembled in the middle of June, because up to June, that is to say, +up to the beginning of mowing-time, they have been studying and +undergoing examinations; and they live there until September, that is +to say, until harvest and sowing-time. The members of this family +(as is the case with nearly every one in that circle) have lived in +the country from the beginning of the press of work, the suffering +time, not until the end of the season of toil (for in September +sowing is still in progress, as well as the digging of potatoes), but +until the strain of work has relaxed a little. During the whole of +their residence in the country, all around them and beside them, that +summer toil of the peasantry has been going on, of whose fatigues, no +matter how much we may have heard, no matter how much we may have +heard about it, no matter how much we may have gazed upon it, we can +form no idea, unless we have had personal experience of it. And the +members of this family, about ten in number, live exactly as they do +in the city. + +At St. Peter's Day, {32} a strict fast, when the people's food +consists of kvas, bread, and onions, the mowing begins. + +The business which is effected in mowing is one of the most important +in the commune. Nearly every year, through the lack of hands and +time, the hay crop may be lost by rain; and more or less strain of +toil decides the question, as to whether twenty or more per cent of +hay is to be added to the wealth of the people, or whether it is to +rot or die where it stands. And additional hay means additional meat +for the old, and additional milk for the children. Thus, in general +and in particular, the question of bread for each one of the mowers, +and of milk for himself and his children, in the ensuing winter, is +then decided. Every one of the toilers, both male and female, knows +this; even the children know that this is an important matter, and +that it is necessary to strain every nerve to carry the jug of kvas +to their father in the meadow at his mowing, and, shifting the heavy +pitcher from hand to hand, to run barefooted as rapidly as possible, +two versts from the village, in order to get there in season for +dinner, and so that their fathers may not scold them. + +Every one knows, that, from the mowing season until the hay is got +in, there will be no break in the work, and that there will be no +time to breathe. And there is not the mowing alone. Every one of +them has other affairs to attend to besides the mowing: the ground +must be turned up and harrowed; and the women have linen and bread +and washing to attend to; and the peasants have to go to the mill, +and to town, and there are communal matters to attend to, and legal +matters before the judge and the commissary of police; and the wagons +to see to, and the horses to feed at night: and all, old and young, +and sickly, labor to the last extent of their powers. The peasants +toil so, that on every occasion, the mowers, before the end of the +third stint, whether weak, young, or old, can hardly walk as they +totter past the last rows, and only with difficulty are they able to +rise after the breathing-spell; and the women, often pregnant, or +nursing infants, work in the same way. The toil is intense and +incessant. All work to the extreme bounds of their strength, and +expend in this toil, not only the entire stock of their scanty +nourishment, but all their previous stock. All of them--and they are +not fat to begin with--grow gaunt after the "suffering" season. + +Here a little association is working at the mowing; three peasants,-- +one an old man, the second his nephew, a young married man, and a +shoemaker, a thin, sinewy man. This hay-harvest will decide the fate +of all of them for the winter. They have been laboring incessantly +for two weeks, without rest. The rain has delayed their work. After +the rain, when the hay has dried, they have decided to stack it, and, +in order to accomplish this as speedily as possible, that two women +for each of them shall follow their scythes. On the part of the old +man go his wife, a woman of fifty, who has become unfit for work, +having borne eleven children, who is deaf, but still a tolerably +stout worker; and a thirteen-year-old daughter, who is short of +stature, but a strong and clever girl. On the part of his nephew go +his wife, a woman as strong and well-grown as a sturdy peasant, and +his daughter-in-law, a soldier's wife, who is about to become a +mother. On the part of the shoemaker go his wife, a stout laborer, +and her aged mother, who has reached her eightieth year, and who +generally goes begging. They all stand in line, and labor from +morning till night, in the full fervor of the June sun. It is +steaming hot, and rain threatens. Every hour of work is precious. +It is a pity to tear one's self from work to fetch water or kvas. A +tiny boy, the old woman's grandson, brings them water. The old +woman, evidently only anxious lest she shall be driven away from her +work, will not let the rake out of her hand, though it is evident +that she can barely move, and only with difficulty. The little boy, +all bent over, and stepping gently, with his tiny bare feet, drags +along a jug of water, shifting it from hand to hand, for it is +heavier than he. The young girl flings over her shoulder a load of +hay which is also heavier than herself, advances a few steps, halts, +and drops it, without the strength to carry it. The old woman of +fifty rakes away without stopping, and with her kerchief awry she +drags the hay, breathing heavily and tottering. The old woman of +eighty only rakes the hay, but even this is beyond her strength; she +slowly drags along her feet, shod with bast shoes, and, frowning, she +gazes gloomily before her, like a seriously ill or dying person. The +old man has intentionally sent her farther away than the rest, to +rake near the cocks of hay, so that she may not keep in line with the +others; but she does not fall in with this arrangement, and she toils +on as long as the others do, with the same death-like, gloomy +countenance. The sun is already setting behind the forest; but the +cocks are not yet all heaped together, and much still remains to do. +All feel that it is time to stop, but no one speaks, waiting until +the others shall say it. Finally the shoemaker, conscious that his +strength is exhausted, proposes to the old man, to leave the cocks +until the morrow; and the old man consents, and the women instantly +run for the garments, jugs, pitchforks; and the old woman immediately +sits down just where she has been standings and then lies back with +the same death-like look, staring straight in front of her. But the +women are going; and she rises with a groan, and drags herself after +them. And this will go on in July also, when the peasants, without +obtaining sufficient sleep, reap the oats by night, lest it should +fall, and the women rise gloomily to thresh out the straw for the +bands to tie the sheaves; when this old woman, already utterly +cramped by the labor of mowing, and the woman with child, and the +young children, injure themselves overworking and over-drinking; and +when neither hands, nor horses, nor carts will suffice to bring to +the ricks that grain with which all men are nourished, and millions +of poods {33} of which are daily required in Russia to keep people +from perishing. + +And we live as though there were no connection between the dying +laundress, the prostitute of fourteen years, the toilsome manufacture +of cigarettes by women, the strained, intolerable, insufficiently fed +toil of old women and children around us; we live as though there +were no connection between this and our own lives. + +It seems to us, that suffering stands apart by itself, and our life +apart by itself. We read the description of the life of the Romans, +and we marvel at the inhumanity of those soulless Luculli, who +satiated themselves on viands and wines while the populace were dying +with hunger. We shake our heads, and we marvel at the savagery of +our grandfathers, who were serf-owners, supporters of household +orchestras and theatres, and of whole villages devoted to the care of +their gardens; and we wonder, from the heights of our grandeur, at +their inhumanity. We read the words of Isa. v. 8: "Woe unto them +that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no +place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth! +(11.) Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may +follow strong drink; that continue until night, till wine inflame +them! (12.) And the harp and the viol, and tabret and pipe, and wine +are in their feasts; but they regard not the work of the Lord, +neither consider the operation of his hands. (18.) Woe unto them +that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a +cart-rope. (20.) Woe unto then that call evil good, and good evil; +that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter +for sweet, and sweet for bitter! (21.) Woe unto them that are wise in +their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight--(22.) Woe unto them +that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong +drink." + +We read these words, and it seems to us that this has no reference to +us. We read in the Gospels (Matt. iii. 10): "And now also the axe +is laid unto the root of the trees: therefore every tree which +bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire." + +And we are fully convinced that the good tree which bringeth forth +good fruit is ourselves; and that these words are not spoken to us, +but to some other and wicked people. + +We read the words of Isa. vi. 10: "Make the heart of this people +fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see +with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their +heart, and convert and be healed. (11.) Then said I: Lord, how +long? And he answered, Until the cities be wasted without +inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be utterly +desolate." + +We read, and are fully convinced that this marvellous deed is not +performed on us, but on some other people. And because we see +nothing it is, that this marvellous deed is performed, and has been +performed, on us. We hear not, we see not, and we understand not +with our heart. How has this happened? + +Whether that God, or that natural law by virtue of which men exist in +the world, has acted well or ill, yet the position of men in the +world, ever since we have known it, has been such, that naked people, +without any hair on their bodies, without lairs in which they could +shelter themselves, without food which they could find in the +fields,--like Robinson {34} on his island,--have all been reduced to +the necessity of constantly and unweariedly contending with nature in +order to cover their bodies, to make themselves clothing, to +construct a roof over their heads, and to earn their bread, that two +or three times a day they may satisfy their hunger and the hunger of +their helpless children and of their old people who cannot work. + +Wherever, at whatever time, in whatever numbers we may have observed +people, whether in Europe, in America, in China, or in Russia, +whether we regard all humanity, or any small portion of it, in +ancient times, in a nomad state, or in our own times, with steam- +engines and sewing-machines, perfected agriculture, and electric +lighting, we behold always one and the same thing,--that man, toiling +intensely and incessantly, is not able to earn for himself and his +little ones and his old people clothing, shelter, and food; and that +a considerable portion of mankind, as in former times, so at the +present day, perish through insufficiency of the necessaries of life, +and intolerable toil in the effort to obtain them. + +Wherever we have, if we draw a circle round us of a hundred thousand, +a thousand, or ten versts, or of one verst, and examine into the +lives of the people comprehended within the limits of our circle, we +shall see within that circle prematurely-born children, old men, old +women, women in labor, sick and weak persons, who toil beyond their +strength, and who have not sufficient food and rest for life, and who +therefore die before their time. We shall see people in the flower +of their age actually slain by dangerous and injurious work. + +We see that people have been struggling, ever since the world has +endured, with fearful effort, privation, and suffering, against this +universal want, and that they cannot overcome it . . . {35} + + + +Footnotes: + +{1} The fine, tall members of a regiment, selected and placed +together to form a showy squad. + +{2} [] Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition printed in +Russia, in the set of Count Tolstoi's works. + +{3} Reaumur. + +{4} A drink made of water, honey, and laurel or salvia leaves, which +is drunk as tea, especially by the poorer classes. + +{5} [] Omitted by the censor from the authorized edition published +in Russia in the set of count Tolstoi's works. The omission is +indicated thus . . . + +{6} Kalatch, a kind of roll: baranki, cracknels of fine flour. + +{7} An arshin is twenty-eight inches. + +{8} A myeshchanin, or citizen, who pays only poll-tax and not a +guild tax. + +{9} Omitted in authorized edition. + +{10} Omitted by the censor in the authorized edition. + +{11} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{12} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{13} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{14} Omitted by the Censor from the authorized edition. + +{15} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{16} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition + +{17} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{18} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{19} A very complicated sort of whist. + +{20} The whole of this chapter is omitted by the Censor in the +authorized edition, and is there represented by the following +sentence: "And I felt that in money, in money itself, in the +possession of it, there was something immoral; and I asked myself, +What is money?" + +{21} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{22} Omitted by the Censor in the authorized edition. + +{23} The above passage is omitted in the authorized edition, and the +following is added: "I came to the simple and natural conclusion, +that, if I pity the tortured horse upon which I am riding, the first +thing for me to do is to alight, and to walk on my own feet." + +{24} Omitted in the authorized edition. + +{25} Omitted in the authorized edition. + +{26} "Into a worse state," in the authorized edition. + +{27} Omitted in the authorized edition. + +{28} Omitted in the authorized edition. + +{29} Reaumur. + +{30} In the Moscow edition (authorized by the Censor), the +concluding paragraph is replaced by the following: --"They say: The +action of a single man is but a drop in the sea. A drop in the sea! + +"There is an Indian legend relating how a man dropped a pearl into +the sea, and in order to recover it he took a bucket, and began to +bail out, and to pour the water on the shore. Thus he toiled without +intermission, and on the seventh day the spirit of the sea grew +alarmed lest the man should dip the sea dry, and so he brought him +his pearl. If our social evil of persecuting man were the sea, then +that pearl which we have lost is equivalent to devoting our lives to +bailing out the sea of that evil. The prince of this world will take +fright, he will succumb more promptly than did the spirit of the sea; +but this social evil is not the sea, but a foul cesspool, which we +assiduously fill with our own uncleanness. All that is required is +for us to come to our senses, and to comprehend what we are doing; to +fall out of love with our own uncleanness,--in order that that +imaginary sea should dry away, and that we should come into +possession of that priceless pearl,--fraternal, humane life." + +{31} An arshin is twenty-eight inches. + +{32} The fast extends from the 5th to the 30th of June, O.S. (June +27 to July 12, N.S.) + +{33} A pood is thirty-six pounds. + +{34} Robinson Crusoe. + +{35} Here something has been omitted by the Censor, which I am +unable to supply.--TRANS. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Thoughts Evoked By The Census Of Moscow, by Tolstoi + |
