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  MY RELIGION.


  BY
  COUNT LEO TOLSTOI.


  _TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH._


  NEW YORK:
  THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.,
  13 ASTOR PLACE.


  Copyright by
  THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.,
  1885.




TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.


TO one not familiar with the Russian language the accessible data
relative to the external life of Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoi, the author of
this book, are, to say the least, not voluminous. His name does not
appear in that heterogeneous record of celebrities known as _The Men of
the Time_, nor is it to be found in M. Vapereau's comprehensive
_Dictionnaire des Contemporains_. And yet Count Leo Tolstoi is
acknowledged by competent critics to be a man of extraordinary genius,
who, certainly in one instance, has produced a masterpiece of literature
which will continue to rank with the great artistic productions of this
age.

Perhaps it is enough for us to know that he was born on his father's
estate in the Russian province of Tula, in the year 1828; that he
received a good home education and studied the oriental languages at the
University of Kasan; that he was for a time in the army, which he
entered at the age of twenty-three as an officer of artillery, serving
later on the staff of Prince Gortschakof; and that subsequently he
alternated between St. Petersburg and Moscow, leading the existence of
super-refined barbarism and excessive luxury, characteristic of the
Russian aristocracy. He saw life in country and city, in camp and court.
He was numbered among the defenders of Sebastopol in the Crimean War,
and the impressions then gathered he used as material for a series of
_War Sketches_ that attracted attention in the pages of the magazine
where they first appeared; and when, a little later, they were published
in book form, their author, then twenty-eight years of age, acquired at
once a wide popularity. Popularity became fame with the publication,
also in 1856, of _Childhood and Youth_, remarkable alike for its artless
revelations concerning the genesis and growth of ideas and emotions in
the minds of the young, for its idyllic pictures of domestic life, and
for its graceful descriptions of nature. This was followed by _The
Cossacks_, a wild romance of the steppes, vigorously realistic in
details, and, like all of Count Tolstoi's works, poetic in conception
and inspired with a dramatic intensity. In 1860 appeared _War and
Peace_, an historical romance in many volumes, dealing with the
Napoleonic invasion of 1812 and the events that immediately followed the
retreat from Moscow. According to M. C. Courrière,[1] it was seized upon
with avidity and produced a profound sensation.

     [1] _Histoire de la littérature contemporaine en Russie._

"The stage is immense and the actors are innumerable; among them three
emperors with their ministers, their marshals, and their generals, and
then a countless retinue of minor officers, soldiers, nobles, and
peasants. We are transported by turns from the salons of St. Petersburg
to the camps of war, from Moscow to the country. And all these diverse
and varied scenes are joined together with a controlling purpose that
brings everything into harmony. Each one of the prolonged series of
constantly changing tableaux is of remarkable beauty and palpitating
with life."

Pierre Besushkof, one of the three heroes of _War and Peace_, has,
rightly or wrongly, long been regarded as in some respects an
autobiographical study, but the personal note is always clearly
perceptible in Count Tolstoi's writings, if we are to believe the
reports of the enthusiastic purveyors of literary information who have
made known some of their many attractive qualities. It is plain also
that a common purpose runs through them all, a purpose which only in the
author's latest production finds full expression. There are hints of it
in _Childhood and Youth_; in _War and Peace_, and in a subsequent
romance, _Anna Karenin_, it becomes very distinct. In the two works last
named Count Tolstoi is pitiless in his portrayal of the vices and
follies of the wealthy, aristocratic class, and warm in his praise of
simplicity and unpretending virtue. Pierre Besushkof is represented as
the product of a transition period, one who sees clearly that the future
must be different from the past, but unable to interpret the prophecies
of its coming. M. Courrière speaks of him very happily as "an overgrown
child who seems to be lost in a wholly unfamiliar world." For a time
Pierre finds mental tranquility in the tenets of freemasonry, and the
author gives us a vivid account, humorous and pathetic by turns, of the
young man's efforts to carry the newly acquired doctrines into practice.
He determines to better the condition of the peasants on his estates;
but instead of looking after the affair himself, he leaves the
consummation of his plans to his stewards, with the result that "the
cleverest among them listened with attention, but considered one thing
only,--how to carry out their own private ends under the pretense of
executing his commands." Later on we are shown Pierre wandering
aimlessly about the streets of burning Moscow, until taken into custody
by the French. Then he learns the true meaning of life from a simple
soldier, a fellow-prisoner, and thereby realizes that safety for the
future is to be obtained only by bringing life to the standard of rude
simplicity adopted by the common people, by recognizing, in act as well
as in deed, the brotherhood of man.

We cannot here enter into the question as to whether this mental
attitude, by no means unusual among Russians of cultivation and
liberality, arises from the lack of social gradation between the noble
and the peasant, which forces the social philosopher of rank to accept
an existence of pure worldliness and empty show, or to adopt the
primitive aspirations and humble toil of the tillers of the soil. At any
rate, it is plain that Count Tolstoi sides with the latter. The doctrine
of simplification has many adherents in Russia, and when, some time
ago, it was announced that the author of _War and Peace_ had retired to
the country and was leading a life of frugality and unaffected toil in
the cultivation of his estates, the surprise to his own countrymen could
not have been very great. In this book he tells us how the decision was
formed. He bases his conclusions on a direct and literal interpretation
of the teachings of Jesus as expressed in the Sermon on the Mount.

The interpretation is not new in theory, but never before has it been
carried out with so much zeal, so much determination, so much sincerity,
and, granting the premises, with logic so unanswerable, as in this
beautiful confession of faith. How movingly does he depict the doubts
and fears of the searcher after the better life; how impressive his
earnest inquiry for truth; how inspiring his confidence in the natural
goodness, as opposed to the natural depravity of man; how convincing his
argument that the doctrine of Jesus is simple, practicable, and
conducive to the highest happiness; how terrifying his enumeration of
the sufferings of "the martyrs to the doctrine of the world"; how
pitiless his arraignment of the Church for its complacent indifference
to the welfare of humanity here in this present stage of existence; how
sublime his prophecy of the golden age when men shall dwell together in
the bonds of love, and sin and suffering shall be no more the common lot
of mankind! We read, and are thrilled with a divine emotion; but which
of us is willing to accept the truth here unfolded as the veritable
secret of life?

Shall we take seriously this eloquent enunciation of faith in humility,
in self-denial, in fraternal love, or shall we regard it only as a
beautiful and peaceful phase in the career of a man of genius who, after
the storm and stress of a life of sin and suffering, has turned back to
the ideals of youth and innocence, and sought to make them once more the
objects of desire? Fanaticism, do you say? Ah, yes; but did not Jesus
and his disciples practise just such fanaticism as this? Does any one
deny that all that is best in this modern world (and there is so much of
the best, after all), that all that is best has come from the great
moral impulse generated by a little group of fanatics in an obscure
corner of Asia eighteen centuries ago? That impulse we still feel, in
spite of all the obstructions that have been put in its way to nullify
its action; and if any would seek for strength from the primary source
of power, who shall say him nay? And so although we may smile at the
artlessness of this Russian evangelist in his determination to find in
the gospels the categorical imperative of self-renunciation, although we
may regard with wonder the magnificent audacity of his exegetical
speculations, we cannot refuse to admire a faith so sincere, so intense,
and, in many respects, so elevating and so noble.

       HUNTINGTON SMITH.

       DORCHESTER, MASS.,
       Nov. 19, 1885.




INTRODUCTION.


I HAVE not always been possessed of the religious ideas set forth in
this book. For thirty-five years of my life I was, in the proper
acceptation of the word, a nihilist,--not a revolutionary socialist, but
a man who believed in nothing. Five years ago faith came to me; I
believed in the doctrine of Jesus, and my whole life underwent a sudden
transformation. What I had once wished for I wished for no longer, and I
began to desire what I had never desired before. What had once appeared
to me right now became wrong, and the wrong of the past I beheld as
right. My condition was like that of a man who goes forth upon some
errand, and having traversed a portion of the road, decides that the
matter is of no importance, and turns back. What was at first on his
right hand is now on his left, and what was at his left hand is now on
his right; instead of going away from his abode, he desires to get back
to it as soon as possible. My life and my desires were completely
changed; good and evil interchanged meanings. Why so? Because I
understood the doctrine of Jesus in a different way from that in which I
had understood it before.

It is not my purpose to expound the doctrine of Jesus; I wish only to
tell how it was that I came to understand what there is in this doctrine
that is simple, clear, evident, indisputable; how I understand that part
of it which appeals to all men, and how this understanding refreshed my
soul and gave me happiness and peace.

I do not intend to comment on the doctrine of Jesus; I desire only that
all comment shall be forever done away with. The Christian sects have
always maintained that all men, however unequal in education and
intelligence, are equal before God; that divine truth is accessible to
every one. Jesus has even declared it to be the will of God that what is
concealed from the wise shall be revealed to the simple. Not every one
is able to understand the mysteries of dogmatics, homiletics, liturgics,
hermeneutics, apologetics; but every one is able and ought to understand
what Jesus Christ said to the millions of simple and ignorant people who
have lived, and who are living to-day. Now, the things that Jesus said
to simple people who could not avail themselves of the comments of Paul,
of Clement, of Chrysostom, and of others, are just what I did not
understand, and which, now that I have come to understand them, I wish
to make plain to all.

The thief on the cross believed in the Christ, and was saved. If the
thief, instead of dying on the cross, had descended from it, and told
all men of his belief in the Christ, would not the result have been of
great good? Like the thief on the cross, I believe in the doctrine of
Jesus, and this belief has made me whole. This is not a vain comparison,
but a truthful expression of my spiritual condition; my soul, once
filled with despair of life and fear of death, is now full of happiness
and peace.

Like the thief, I knew that my past and present life was vile; I saw
that the majority of men about me lived unworthy lives. I knew, like the
thief, that I was wretched and suffering, that all those about me
suffered and were wretched; and I saw before me nothing but death to
save me from this condition. As the thief was nailed to his cross, so I
was nailed to a life of suffering and evil by an incomprehensible power.
And as the thief saw before him, after the sufferings of a foolish life,
the horrible shadows of death, so I beheld the same vista opening before
me.

In all this I felt that I was like the thief. There was, however, a
difference in our conditions; he was about to die, and I--I still lived.
The dying thief thought perhaps to find his salvation beyond the grave,
while I had before me life and its mystery this side the grave. I
understood nothing of this life; it seemed to me a frightful thing, and
then--I understood the words of Jesus, and life and death ceased to be
evil; instead of despair, I tasted joy and happiness that death could
not take away.

Will any one, then, be offended if I tell the story of how all this came
about?

       LEO TOLSTOI.

       MOSCOW, Jan. 22, 1884.




MY RELIGION.




CHAPTER I.


I SHALL explain elsewhere, in two voluminous treatises, why I did not
understand the doctrine of Jesus, and how at length it became clear to
me. These works are a criticism of dogmatic theology and a new
translation of the four Gospels, followed by a concordance. In these
writings I seek methodically to disentangle everything that tends to
conceal the truth from men; I translate the four Gospels anew, verse by
verse, and I bring them together in a new concordance. The work has
lasted for six years. Each year, each month, I discover new meanings
which corroborate the fundamental idea; I correct the errors which have
crept in, and I put the last touches to what I have already written. My
life, whose final term is not far distant, will doubtless end before I
have finished my work; but I am convinced that the work will be of great
service; so I shall do all that I can to bring it to completion.

I do not now concern myself with this outward work upon theology and the
Gospels, but with an inner work of an entirely different nature. I have
to do now with nothing systematic or methodical, only with that sudden
light which showed me the Gospel doctrine in all its simple beauty.

The process was something similar to that experienced by one who,
following an erroneous model, seeks to restore a statue from broken bits
of marble, and who with one of the most refractory fragments in hand
perceives the hopelessness of his ideal; then he begins anew, and
instead of the former incongruities he finds, as he observes the
outlines of each fragment, that all fit well together and form one
consistent whole. That is exactly what happened to me, and is what I
wish to relate. I wish to tell how I found the key to the true meaning
of the doctrine of Jesus, and how by this meaning doubt was absolutely
driven from my soul. The discovery came about in this way.

From my childhood, from the time I first began to read the New
Testament, I was touched most of all by that portion of the doctrine of
Jesus which inculcates love, humility, self-denial, and the duty of
returning good for evil. This, to me, has always been the substance of
Christianity; my heart recognized its truth in spite of scepticism and
despair, and for this reason I submitted to a religion professed by a
multitude of toilers, who find in it the solution of life,--the religion
taught by the Orthodox Church. But in making my submission to the
Church, I soon saw that I should not find in its creed the confirmation
of the essence of Christianity; what was to me essential seemed to be in
the dogma of the Church merely an accessory. What was to me the most
important of the teachings of Jesus was not so regarded by the Church.
No doubt (I thought) the Church sees in Christianity, aside from its
inner meaning of love, humility, and self-denial, an outer, dogmatic
meaning, which, however strange and even repulsive to me, is not in
itself evil or pernicious. But the further I went on in submission to
the doctrine of the Church, the more clearly I saw in this particular
point something of greater importance than I had at first realized. What
I found most repulsive in the doctrine of the Church was the strangeness
of its dogmas and the approval, nay, the support, which it gave to
persecutions, to the death penalty, to wars stirred up by the
intolerance common to all sects; but my faith was chiefly shattered by
the indifference of the Church to what seemed to me essential in the
teachings of Jesus, and its partiality for what seemed to me of
secondary importance. I felt that something was wrong; but I could not
see where the fault lay, because the doctrine of the Church did not deny
what seemed to me essential in the doctrine of Jesus; this essential was
fully recognized, yet in such a way as not to give it the first place. I
could not accuse the Church of denying the essence of the doctrine of
Jesus, but it was recognized in a way which did not satisfy me. The
Church did not give me what I expected from her. I had passed from
nihilism to the Church simply because I felt it to be impossible to live
without religion, that is, without a knowledge of good and evil aside
from animal instincts. I hoped to find this knowledge in Christianity;
but Christianity I then saw only as a vague spiritual tendency, from
which it was impossible to deduce any clear and peremptory rules for the
guidance of life. These I sought and these I demanded of the Church. The
Church offered me rules wherein I not only sought in vain the practice
of the Christian life so dear to me, but which drove me still further
away. I could not become a disciple of the Church. An existence based
upon Christian truth was to me indispensable, and the Church only
offered me rules completely at variance with the truth that I loved. The
rules of the Church touching articles of faith, dogmas, the observance
of the sacrament, fasts, prayers, were not necessary to me, and did not
seem to be based on Christian truth. Moreover, the rules of the Church
weakened and sometimes destroyed the Christian disposition of soul which
alone gave meaning to my life.

I was troubled most that the miseries of humanity, the habit of judging
one another, of passing judgment upon nations and religions, and the
wars and massacres which resulted in consequence, all went on with the
approbation of the Church. The doctrine of Jesus,--judge not, be humble,
forgive offences, deny self, love,--this doctrine was extolled by the
Church in words, but at the same time the Church approved what was
incompatible with the doctrine. Was it possible that the doctrine of
Jesus admitted of such contradiction? I could not believe so.

Another astonishing thing about the Church was that the passages upon
which it based affirmation of its dogmas were those which were most
obscure. On the other hand, the passages from which came the moral laws
were the most clear and precise. And yet the dogmas and the duties
depending upon them were definitely formulated by the Church, while the
recommendation to obey the moral law was put in the most vague and
mystical terms. Was this the intention of Jesus? The Gospels alone could
dissipate my doubts. I read them once and again.

Of all the other portions of the Gospels, the Sermon on the Mount always
had for me an exceptional importance. I now read it more frequently than
ever. Nowhere does Jesus speak with greater solemnity, nowhere does he
propound moral rules more definitely and practically, nor do these rules
in any other form awaken more readily an echo in the human heart;
nowhere else does he address himself to a larger multitude of the common
people. If there are any clear and precise Christian principles, one
ought to find them here. I therefore sought the solution of my doubts in
Matthew v., vi., and vii., comprising the Sermon on the Mount. These
chapters I read very often, each time with the same emotional ardor, as
I came to the verses which exhort the hearer to turn the other cheek, to
give up his cloak, to be at peace with all the world, to love his
enemies,--but each time with the same disappointment. The divine words
were not clear. They exhorted to a renunciation so absolute as to
entirely stifle life as I understood it; to renounce everything,
therefore, could not, it seemed to me, be essential to salvation. And
the moment this ceased to be an absolute condition, clearness and
precision were at an end.

I read not only the Sermon on the Mount; I read all the Gospels and all
the theological commentaries on the Gospels. I was not satisfied with
the declarations of the theologians that the Sermon on the Mount was
only an indication of the degree of perfection to which man should
aspire; that man, weighed down by sin, could not reach such an ideal;
and that the salvation of humanity was in faith and prayer and grace. I
could not admit the truth of these propositions. It seemed to me a
strange thing that Jesus should propound rules so clear and admirable,
addressed to the understanding of every one, and still realize man's
inability to carry his doctrine into practice.

Then as I read these maxims I was permeated with the joyous assurance
that I might that very hour, that very moment, begin to practise them.
The burning desire I felt led me to the attempt, but the doctrine of the
Church rang in my ears,--_Man is weak, and to this he cannot
attain_;--my strength soon failed. On every side I heard, "You must
believe and pray"; but my wavering faith impeded prayer. Again I heard,
"You must pray, and God will give you faith; this faith will inspire
prayer, which in turn will invoke faith that will inspire more prayer,
and so on, indefinitely." Reason and experience alike convinced me that
such methods were useless. It seemed to me that the only true way was
for me to try to follow the doctrine of Jesus.

And so, after all this fruitless search and careful meditation over all
that had been written for and against the divinity of the doctrine of
Jesus, after all this doubt and suffering, I came back face to face with
the mysterious Gospel message. I could not find the meanings that others
found, neither could I discover what I sought. It was only after I had
rejected the interpretations of the wise critics and theologians,
according to the words of Jesus, "_Except ye... become as little
children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven_" (Matt. xviii.
3),--it was only then that I suddenly understood what had been so
meaningless before. I understood, not through exegetical fantasies or
profound and ingenious textual combinations; I understood everything,
because I put all commentaries out of my mind. This was the passage that
gave me the key to the whole:--

"_Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth
for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil._" (Matt. v.
38, 39.)

One day the exact and simple meaning of these words came to me; I
understood that Jesus meant neither more nor less than what he said.
What I saw was nothing new; only the veil that had hidden the truth from
me fell away, and the truth was revealed in all its grandeur.

"_Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth
for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil._"

These words suddenly appeared to me as if I had never read them before.
Always before, when I had read this passage, I had, singularly enough,
allowed certain words to escape me, "_But I say unto you, that ye resist
not evil_." To me it had always been as if the words just quoted had
never existed, or had never possessed a definite meaning. Later on, as I
talked with many Christians familiar with the Gospel, I noticed
frequently the same blindness with regard to these words. No one
remembered them, and often in speaking of this passage, Christians took
up the Gospel to see for themselves if the words were really there.
Through a similar neglect of these words I had failed to understand the
words that follow:--

"_But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the
other also_," etc. (Matt. v. 39, _et seq._)

Always these words had seemed to me to demand long-suffering and
privation contrary to human nature. They touched me; I felt that it
would be noble to follow them, but I also felt that I had not the
strength to put them into practice. I said to myself, "If I turn the
other cheek, I shall get another blow; if I give, all that I have will
be taken away. Life would be an impossibility. Since life is given to
me, why should I deprive myself of it? Jesus cannot demand as much as
that." Thus I reasoned, persuaded that Jesus, in exalting long-suffering
and privation, made use of exaggerated terms lacking in clearness and
precision; but when I understood the words "_Resist not evil_," I saw
that Jesus did not exaggerate, that he did not demand suffering for
suffering, but that he had formulated with great clearness and precision
exactly what he wished to say.

"_Resist not evil_," knowing that you will meet with those who, when
they have struck you on one cheek and met with no resistance, will
strike you on the other; who, having taken away your coat, will take
away your cloak also; who, having profited by your labor, will force you
to labor still more without reward. And yet, though all this should
happen to you, "_Resist not evil_"; do good to them that injure you.
When I understood these words as they are written, all that had been
obscure became clear to me, and what had seemed exaggerated I saw to be
perfectly reasonable. For the first time I grasped the pivotal idea in
the words "_Resist not evil_"; I saw that what followed was only a
development of this command; I saw that Jesus did not exhort us to turn
the other cheek that we might endure suffering, but that his exhortation
was, "_Resist not evil_," and that he afterward declared suffering to be
the possible consequence of the practice of this maxim.

A father, when his son is about to set out on a far journey, commands
him not to tarry by the way; he does not tell him to pass his nights
without shelter, to deprive himself of food, to expose himself to rain
and cold. He says, "Go thy way, and tarry not, though thou should'st be
wet or cold." So Jesus does not say, "Turn the other cheek and suffer."
He says, "_Resist not evil_"; no matter what happens, "_Resist not_."

These words, "_Resist not evil_," when I understood their significance,
were to me the key that opened all the rest. Then I was astonished that
I had failed to comprehend words so clear and precise.

"_Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth
for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil._"

Whatever injury the evil-disposed may inflict upon you, bear it, give
all that you have, but resist not. Could anything be more clear, more
definite, more intelligible than that? I had only to grasp the simple
and exact meaning of these words, just as they were spoken, when the
whole doctrine of Jesus, not only as set forth in the Sermon on the
Mount, but in the entire Gospels, became clear to me; what had seemed
contradictory was now in harmony; above all, what had seemed superfluous
was now indispensable. Each portion fell into harmonious unison and
filled its proper part, like the fragments of a broken statue when
adjusted in harmony with the sculptor's design. In the Sermon on the
Mount, as well as throughout the whole Gospel, I found everywhere
affirmation of the same doctrine, "_Resist not evil_."

In the Sermon on the Mount, as well as in many other places, Jesus
represents his disciples, those who observe the rule of non-resistance
to evil, as turning the other cheek, giving up their cloaks, persecuted,
used despitefully, and in want. Everywhere Jesus says that he who taketh
not up his cross, he who does not renounce worldly advantage, he who is
not ready to bear all the consequences of the commandment, "_Resist not
evil_," cannot become his disciple.

To his disciples Jesus says, Choose to be poor; bear all things without
resistance to evil, even though you thereby bring upon yourself
persecution, suffering, and death.

Prepared to suffer death rather than resist evil, he reproved the
resentment of Peter, and died exhorting his followers not to resist and
to remain always faithful to his doctrine. The early disciples observed
this rule, and passed their lives in misery and persecution, without
rendering evil for evil.

It seems, then, that Jesus meant precisely what he said. We may declare
the practice of such a rule to be very difficult; we may deny that he
who follows it will find happiness; we may say with the unbelievers that
Jesus was a dreamer, an idealist who propounded impracticable maxims;
but it is impossible not to admit that he expressed in a manner at once
clear and precise what he wished to say; that is, that according to his
doctrine a man must not resist evil, and, consequently, that whoever
adopts his doctrine will not resist evil. And yet neither believers nor
unbelievers will admit this simple and clear interpretation of Jesus'
words.




CHAPTER II.


WHEN I apprehended clearly the words "_Resist not evil_," my conception
of the doctrine of Jesus was entirely changed; and I was astounded, not
that I had failed to understand it before, but that I had misunderstood
it so strangely. I knew, as we all know, that the true significance of
the doctrine of Jesus was comprised in the injunction to love one's
neighbor. When we say, "_Turn the other cheek_," "_Love your enemies_,"
we express the very essence of Christianity. I knew all that from my
childhood; but why had I failed to understand aright these simple words?
Why had I always sought for some ulterior meaning? "_Resist not evil_"
means, never resist, never oppose violence; or, in other words, never do
anything contrary to the law of love. If any one takes advantage of this
disposition and affronts you, bear the affront, and do not, above all,
have recourse to violence. This Jesus said in words so clear and simple
that it would be impossible to express the idea more clearly. How was it
then, that believing or trying to believe these to be the words of God,
I still maintained the impossibility of obeying them? If my master says
to me, "Go; cut some wood," and I reply, "It is beyond my strength," I
say one of two things: either I do not believe what my master says, or I
do not wish to obey his commands. Should I then say of God's
commandment that I could not obey it without the aid of a supernatural
power? Should I say this without having made the slightest effort of my
own to obey? We are told that God descended to earth to save mankind;
that salvation was secured by the second person of the Trinity, who
suffered for men, thereby redeeming them from sin, and gave them the
Church as the shrine for the transmission of grace to all believers; but
aside from this, the Saviour gave to men a doctrine and the example of
his own life for their salvation. How, then, could I say that the rules
of life which Jesus has formulated so clearly and simply for every
one--how could I say that these rules were difficult to obey, that it
was impossible to obey them without the assistance of a supernatural
power? Jesus saw no such impossibility; he distinctly declared that
those who did not obey could not enter into the kingdom of God. Nowhere
did he say that obedience would be difficult; on the contrary, he said
in so many words, "_My yoke is easy and my burden is light_" (Matt. xi.
30). And John, the evangelist, says, "_His commandments are not
grievous_" (1 John v. 3). Since God declared the practice of his law to
be easy, and himself practised it in human form, as did also his
disciples, how dared I speak of the impossibility of obedience without
the aid of a supernatural power?

If one bent all his energies to overthrow any law, what could he say of
greater force than that the law was essentially impracticable, and that
the maker of the law knew it to be impracticable and unattainable
without the aid of a supernatural power? Yet that is exactly what I had
been thinking of the command, "_Resist not evil_." I endeavored to find
out how it was that I got the idea that Jesus' law was divine, but that
it could not be obeyed; and as I reviewed my past history, I perceived
that the idea had not been communicated to me in all its crudeness (it
would then have been revolting to me), but insensibly I had been imbued
with it from childhood, and all my after life had only confirmed me in
error.

From my childhood I had been taught that Jesus was God, and that his
doctrine was divine, but at the same time I was taught to respect as
sacred the institutions which protected me from violence and evil. I was
taught to resist evil, that it was humiliating to submit to evil, and
that resistance to it was praiseworthy. I was taught to judge, and to
inflict punishment. Then I was taught the soldier's trade, that is, to
resist evil by homicide; the army to which I belonged was called "The
Christophile Army," and it was sent forth with a Christian benediction.
From infancy to manhood I learned to venerate things that were in direct
contradiction to the law of Jesus,--to meet an aggressor with his own
weapons, to avenge myself by violence for all offences against my
person, my family, or my race. Not only was I not blamed for this; I
learned to regard it as not at all contrary to the law of Jesus. All
that surrounded me, my personal security and that of my family and my
property--depended then upon a law which Jesus reproved,--the law of "a
tooth for a tooth." My spiritual instructors taught me that the law of
Jesus was divine, but, because of human weakness, impossible of
practice, and that the grace of Jesus Christ alone could aid us to
follow its precepts. And this instruction agreed with what I received in
secular institutions and from the social organization about me. I was so
thoroughly possessed with this idea of the impracticability of the
divine doctrine, and it harmonized so well with my desires, that not
till the time of awakening did I realize its falsity. I did not see how
impossible it was to confess Jesus and his doctrine, "_Resist not
evil_," and at the same time deliberately assist in the organization of
property, of tribunals, of governments, of armies; to contribute to the
establishment of a polity entirely contrary to the doctrine of Jesus,
and at the same time pray to Jesus to help us to obey his commands, to
forgive our sins, and to aid us that we resist not evil. I did not see,
what is very clear to me now, how much more simple it would be to
organize a method of living conformable to the law of Jesus, and then to
pray for tribunals, and massacres, and wars, and all other things
indispensable to our happiness.

Thus I came to understand the source of error into which I had fallen. I
had confessed Jesus with my lips, but my heart was still far from him.
The command, "_Resist not evil_," is the central point of Jesus'
doctrine; it is not a mere verbal affirmation; it is a rule whose
practice is obligatory. It is verily the key to the whole mystery; but
the key must be thrust to the bottom of the lock. When we regard it as a
command impossible of performance, the value of the entire doctrine is
lost. Why should not a doctrine seem impracticable, when we have
suppressed its fundamental proposition? It is not strange that
unbelievers look upon it as totally absurd. When we declare that one may
be a Christian without observing the commandment, "_Resist not evil_,"
we simply leave out the connecting link which transmits the force of the
doctrine of Jesus into action.

Some time ago I was reading in Hebrew, the fifth chapter of Matthew with
a Jewish rabbi. At nearly every verse the rabbi said, "This is in the
Bible," or "This is in the Talmud," and he showed me in the Bible and in
the Talmud sentences very like the declarations of the Sermon on the
Mount. When we reached the words, "_Resist not evil_," the rabbi did not
say, "This is in the Talmud," but he asked me, with a smile, "Do the
Christians obey this command? Do they turn the other cheek?" I had
nothing to say in reply, especially as at that particular time,
Christians, far from turning the other cheek, were smiting the Jews upon
both cheeks. I asked him if there were anything similar in the Bible or
in the Talmud. "No," he replied, "there is nothing like it; but tell me,
do the Christians obey this law?" It was only another way of saying that
the presence in the Christian doctrine of a commandment which no one
observed, and which Christians themselves regarded as impracticable, is
simply an avowal of the foolishness and nullity of that law. I could say
nothing in reply to the rabbi.

Now that I understand the exact meaning of the doctrine, I see clearly
the strangely contradictory position in which I was placed. Having
recognized the divinity of Jesus and of his doctrine, and having at the
same time organized a life wholly contrary to that doctrine, what
remained for me but to look upon the doctrine as impracticable? In words
I had recognized the doctrine of Jesus as sacred; in actions, I had
professed a doctrine not at all Christian, and I had recognized and
reverenced the anti-Christian customs which hampered my life upon every
side. The persistent message of the Old Testament is that misfortunes
came upon the Hebrew people because they believed in false gods and
denied Jehovah. Samuel (I. viii.-xii.) accuses the people of adding to
their other apostasies the choice of a man, upon whom they depended for
deliverance instead of upon Jehovah, who was their true King. "Turn not
aside after _tohu_, after vain things," Samuel says to the people (I.
xii. 21); "turn not aside after vain things, which cannot profit nor
deliver; for they are _tohu_, are vain." "Fear Jehovah and serve him....
But if ye shall still do wickedly, ye shall be consumed, both ye and
your king" (I. xii. 24, 25). And so with me, faith in _tohu_, in vain
things, in empty idols, had concealed the truth from me. Across the
path which led to the truth, _tohu_, the idol of vain things, rose
before me, cutting off the light, and I had not the strength to beat it
down.

On a certain day, at this time, I was walking in Moscow towards the
Borovitzky Gate, where was stationed an old lame beggar, with a dirty
cloth wrapped about his head. I took out my purse to bestow an alms; but
at the same moment I saw a young soldier emerging from the Kremlin at a
rapid pace, head well up, red of face, wearing the State insignia of
military dignity. The beggar, on perceiving the soldier, arose in fear,
and ran with all his might towards the Alexander Garden. The soldier,
after a vain attempt to come up with the fugitive, stopped, shouting
forth an imprecation upon the poor wretch who had established himself
under the gateway contrary to regulations. I waited for the soldier.
When he approached me, I asked him if he knew how to read.

"Yes; why do you ask?"

"Have you read the New Testament?"

"Yes."

"And do you remember the words, 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him...'?"

I repeated the passage. He remembered it, and heard me to the end. I saw
that he was uneasy. Two passers-by stopped and listened. The soldier
seemed to be troubled that he should be condemned for doing his duty in
driving persons away from a place where they had been forbidden to
linger. He thought himself at fault, and sought for an excuse. Suddenly
his eye brightened; he looked at me over his shoulder, as if he were
about to move away.

"And the military regulation, do you know anything about that?" he
demanded.

"No," I said.

"In that case, you have nothing to say to me," he retorted, with a
triumphant wag of the head, and elevating his plume once more, he
marched away to his post. He was the only man that I ever met who had
solved, with an inflexible logic, the question which eternally
confronted me in social relations, and which rises continually before
every man who calls himself a Christian.




CHAPTER III.


WE are wrong when we say that the Christian doctrine is concerned only
with the salvation of the individual, and has nothing to do with
questions of State. Such an assertion is simply a bold affirmation of an
untruth, which, when we examine it seriously, falls of itself to the
ground. It is well (so I said); I will resist not evil; I will turn the
other cheek in private life; but hither comes the enemy, or here is an
oppressed nation, and I am called upon to do my part in the struggle
against evil, to go forth and kill. I must decide the question, to serve
God or _tohu_, to go to war or not to go. Perhaps I am a peasant; I am
appointed mayor of a village, a judge, a juryman; I am obliged to take
the oath of office, to judge, to condemn. What ought I to do? Again I
must choose between the divine law and the human law. Perhaps I am a
monk living in a monastery; the neighboring peasants trespass upon our
pasturage, and I am appointed to resist evil, to plead for justice
against the wrong-doers. Again I must choose. It is a dilemma from which
no man can escape.

I do not speak of those whose entire lives are passed in resisting evil,
as military authorities, judges, or governors. No one is so obscure that
he is not obliged to choose between the service of God and the service
of _tohu_, in his relation to the State. My very existence, entangled
with that of the State and the social existence organized by the State,
exacts from me an anti-Christian activity directly contrary to the
commandments of Jesus. In fact, with conscription and compulsory jury
service, this pitiless dilemma arises before every one. Every one is
forced to take up murderous weapons; and even if he does not get as far
as murder, his weapons must be ready, his carbine loaded, and his sword
keen of edge, that he may declare himself ready for murder. Every one is
forced into the service of the courts to take part in meting out
judgment and sentence; that is, to deny the commandment of Jesus,
"_Resist not evil_," in acts as well as in words.

The soldier's problem, the Gospel or military regulations, divine law or
human law, is before mankind to-day as it was in the time of Samuel. It
was forced upon Jesus and upon his disciples; it is forced in these
times upon all who would be Christians; and it was forced upon me.

The law of Jesus, with its doctrine of love, humility, and self-denial,
touched my heart more deeply than ever before. But everywhere, in the
annals of history, in the events that were going on about me, in my
individual life, I saw the law opposed in a manner revolting to
sentiment, conscience, and reason, and encouraging to brute instincts. I
felt that if I adopted the law of Jesus, I should be alone; I should
pass many unhappy hours; I should be persecuted and afflicted as Jesus
had said. But if I adopted the human law, everybody would approve; I
should be in peace and safety, with all the resources of civilization at
my command to put my conscience at ease. As Jesus said, I should laugh
and be glad. I felt all this, and so I did not analyze the meaning of
the doctrine of Jesus, but sought to understand it in such a way that it
might not interfere with my life as an animal. That is, I did not wish
to understand it at all. This determination not to understand led me
into delusions which now astound me. As an instance in point, let me
explain my former understanding of these words:--

"_Judge not, that ye be not judged._" (Matt. vii. 1.)

"_Judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn not, and ye shall not
be condemned._" (Luke vi. 37.)

The courts in which I served, and which insured the safety of my
property and my person, seemed to be institutions so indubitably sacred
and so entirely in accord with the divine law, it had never entered into
my head that the words I have quoted could have any other meaning than
an injunction not to speak ill of one's neighbor. It never occurred to
me that Jesus spoke in these words of the courts of human law and
justice. It was only when I understood the true meaning of the words,
"_Resist not evil_," that the question arose as to Jesus' advice with
regard to tribunals. When I understood that Jesus would denounce them, I
asked myself, Is not this the real meaning: Not only do not judge your
neighbor, do not speak ill of him, but do not judge him in the courts,
do not judge him in any of the tribunals that you have instituted? Now
in Luke (vi. 37-49) these words follow immediately the doctrine that
exhorts us to resist not evil and to do good to our enemies. And after
the injunction, "_Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is
merciful_," Jesus says, "_Judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn
not, and ye shall not be condemned_." "_Judge not_;" does not this mean,
Institute no tribunals for the judgment of your neighbor? I had only to
bring this boldly before myself when heart and reason united in an
affirmative reply.

To show how far I was before from the true interpretation, I shall
confess a foolish pleasantry for which I still blush. When I was reading
the New Testament as a divine book at the time that I had become a
believer, I was in the habit of saying to my friends who were judges or
attorneys, "And you still judge, although it is said, 'Judge not, and ye
shall not be judged'?" I was so sure that these words could have no
other meaning than a condemnation of evil-speaking that I did not
comprehend the horrible blasphemy which I thus committed. I was so
thoroughly convinced that these words did not mean what they did mean,
that I quoted them in their true sense in the form of a pleasantry.

I shall relate in detail how it was that all doubt with regard to the
true meaning of these words was effaced from my mind, and how I saw
their purport to be that Jesus denounced the institution of all human
tribunals, of whatever sort; that he meant to say so, and could not have
expressed himself otherwise. When I understood the command, "_Resist
not evil_," in its proper sense, the first thing that occurred to me was
that tribunals, instead of conforming to this law, were directly opposed
to it, and indeed to the entire doctrine; and therefore that if Jesus
had thought of tribunals at all, he would have condemned them.

Jesus said, "_Resist not evil_"; the sole aim of tribunals is to resist
evil. Jesus exhorted us to return good for evil; tribunals return evil
for evil. Jesus said that we were to make no distinction between those
who do good and those who do evil; tribunals do nothing else. Jesus
said, Forgive, forgive not once or seven times, but without limit; love
your enemies, do good to them that hate you--but tribunals do not
forgive, they punish; they return not good but evil to those whom they
regard as the enemies of society. It would seem, then, that Jesus
denounced judicial institutions. Perhaps (I said) Jesus never had
anything to do with courts of justice, and so did not think of them. But
I saw that such a theory was not tenable. Jesus, from his childhood to
his death, was concerned with the tribunals of Herod, of the Sanhedrim,
and of the High Priests. I saw that Jesus must have regarded courts of
justice as wrong. He told his disciples that they would be dragged
before the judges, and gave them advice as to how they should comport
themselves. He said of himself that he should be condemned by a
tribunal, and he showed what the attitude toward judges ought to be.
Jesus, then, must have thought of the judicial institutions which
condemned him and his disciples; which have condemned and continue to
condemn millions of men.

Jesus saw the wrong and faced it. When the sentence against the woman
taken in adultery was about to be carried into execution, he absolutely
denied the possibility of human justice, and demonstrated that man could
not be the judge since man himself was guilty. And this idea he has
propounded many times, as where it is declared that one with a beam in
his eye cannot see the mote in another's eye, or that the blind cannot
lead the blind. He even pointed out the consequences of such
misconceptions,--the disciple would be above his Master.

Perhaps, however, after having denounced the incompetency of human
justice as displayed in the case of the woman taken in adultery, or
illustrated in the parable of the mote and the beam; perhaps, after all,
Jesus would admit of an appeal to the justice of men where it was
necessary for protection against evil; but I soon saw that this was
inadmissible. In the Sermon on the Mount, he says, addressing the
multitude,

"_And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let
him have thy cloak also."_ (Matt. v. 40.)

Once more, perhaps Jesus spoke only of the personal bearing which a man
should have when brought before judicial institutions, and did not
condemn justice, but admitted the necessity in a Christian society of
individuals who judge others in properly constituted forms. But I saw
that this view was also inadmissible. When he prayed, Jesus besought all
men, without exception, to forgive others, that their own trespasses
might be forgiven. This thought he often expresses. He who brings his
gift to the altar with prayer must first grant forgiveness. How, then,
could a man judge and condemn when his religion commanded him to forgive
all trespasses, without limit? So I saw that according to the doctrine
of Jesus no Christian judge could pass sentence of condemnation.

But might not the relation between the words "_Judge not, and ye shall
not be judged_" and the preceding or subsequent passages permit us to
conclude that Jesus, in saying "_Judge not_," had no reference whatever
to judicial institutions? No; this could not be so; on the contrary, it
is clear from the relation of the phrases that in saying "_Judge not_,"
Jesus did actually speak of judicial institutions. According to Matthew
and Luke, before saying "_Judge not, condemn not_," his command was to
resist not evil. And prior to this, as Matthew tells us, he repeated the
ancient criminal law of the Jews, "_An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a
tooth_." Then, after this reference to the old criminal law, he added,
"_But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil_"; and, after that,
"_Judge not_." Jesus did, then, refer directly to human criminal law,
and reproved it in the words, "_Judge not_." Moreover, according to
Luke, he not only said, "_Judge not_," but also, "_Condemn not_." It
was not without a purpose that he added this almost synonymous word; it
shows clearly what meaning should be attributed to the other. If he had
wished to say "Judge not your neighbor," he would have said "neighbor";
but he added the words which are translated "_Condemn not_," and then
completed the sentence, "_And ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye
shall be forgiven_." But some may still insist that Jesus, in expressing
himself in this way, did not refer at all to the tribunals, and that I
have read my own thoughts into his teachings. Let the apostles tell us
what they thought of courts of justice, and if they recognized and
approved of them. The apostle James says (iv. 11, 12):--

"_Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his
brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth
the law: but if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but
a judge. There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who
art thou that judgest another?_"

The word translated "speak evil" is the verb [Greek: katalaleô], which
means "to speak against, to accuse"; this is its true meaning, as any
one may find out for himself by opening a dictionary. In the translation
we read, "_He that speaketh evil of his brother, ... speaketh evil of
the law_." Why so? is the question that involuntarily arises. I may
speak evil of my brother, but I do not thereby speak evil of the law.
If, however, I _accuse_ my brother, if I bring him to justice, it is
plain that I thereby accuse the law of Jesus of insufficiency: I accuse
and judge the law. It is clear, then, that I do not practise the law,
but that I make myself a judge of the law. "_Not to judge, but to save_"
is Jesus' declaration. How then shall I, who cannot save, become a judge
and punish? The entire passage refers to human justice, and denies its
authority. The whole epistle is permeated with the same idea. In the
second chapter we read:--

"_For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy;
and mercy is exalted above judgment._"[2] (Jas. ii. 13.)

     [2] Count Tolstoi's rendering.

(The last phrase has been translated in such a way as to declare that
judgment is compatible with Christianity, but that it ought to be
merciful.)

James exhorts his brethren to have no respect of persons. If you have
respect of the condition of persons, you are guilty of sin; you are like
the untrustworthy judges of the tribunals. You look upon the beggar as
the refuse of society, while it is the rich man who ought to be so
regarded. He it is who oppresses you and draws you before the
judgment-seats. If you live according to the law of love for your
neighbor, according to the law of mercy (which James calls "_the law of
liberty_," to distinguish it from all others)--if you live according to
this law, it is well. But if you have respect of persons, you transgress
the law of mercy. Then (doubtless thinking of the case of the woman
taken in adultery, who, when she was brought before Jesus, was about to
be put to death according to the law), thinking, no doubt, of that case,
James says that he who inflicts death upon the adulterous woman would
himself be guilty of murder, and thereby transgress the eternal law; for
the same law forbids both adultery and murder.

"_So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of
liberty. For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no
mercy; and mercy is exalted above judgment._" (Jas. ii. 12, 13.)

Could the idea be expressed in terms more clear and precise? Respect of
persons is forbidden, as well as any judgment that shall classify
persons as good or bad; human judgment is declared to be inevitably
defective, and such judgment is denounced as criminal when it condemns
for crime; judgment is blotted out by the eternal law, the law of mercy.

I open the epistles of Paul, who had been a victim of tribunals, and in
the letter to the Romans I read the admonitions of the apostle for the
vices and errors of those to whom his words are addressed; among other
matters he speaks of courts of justice:--

"_Who, knowing the judgment of God, that they which commit such things
are worthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleasure in them
that do them._" (Rom. i. 32.)

"_Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that
judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for
thou that judgest doest the same things._" (Rom. ii. 1.)

"_Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and
long-suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to
repentance?_" (Rom. ii. 4.)

Such was the opinion of the apostles with regard to tribunals, and we
know that human justice was among the trials and sufferings that they
endured with steadfastness and resignation to the will of God. When we
think of the situation of the early Christians, surrounded by
unbelievers, we can understand that a denial of the right to judge
persecuted Christians before the tribunals was not considered. The
apostles spoke of it only incidentally as an evil, and denied its
authority on every occasion.

I examined the teachings of the early Fathers of the Church, and found
them to agree in obliging no one to judge or to condemn, and in urging
all to bear the inflictions of justice. The martyrs, by their acts,
declared themselves to be of the same mind. I saw that Christianity
before Constantine regarded tribunals only as an evil which was to be
endured with patience; but it never could have occurred to any early
Christian that he could take part in the administration of the courts of
justice. It is plain, therefore, that Jesus' words, "_Judge not,
condemn not_," were understood by his first disciples, as they ought to
be understood now, in their direct and literal meaning: judge not in
courts of justice; take no part in them.

All this seemed absolutely to corroborate my conviction that the words,
"_Judge not, condemn not_," referred to the justice of tribunals. Yet
the meaning, "Speak not evil of your neighbor," is so firmly
established, and courts of justice flaunt their decrees with so much
assurance and audacity in all Christian societies, with the support even
of the Church, that for a long time still I doubted the wisdom of my
interpretation. If men have understood the words in this way (I
thought), and have instituted Christian tribunals, they must certainly
have some reason for so doing; there must be a good reason for regarding
these words as a denunciation of evil-speaking, and there is certainly a
basis of some sort for the institution of Christian tribunals; perhaps,
after all, I am in the wrong.

I turned to the Church commentaries. In all, from the fifth century
onward, I found the invariable interpretation to be, "Accuse not your
neighbor"; that is, avoid evil-speaking. As the words came to be
understood exclusively in this sense, a difficulty arose,--How to
refrain from judgment? It being impossible not to condemn evil, all the
commentators discussed the question, What is blamable and what is not
blamable? Some, such as Chrysostom and Theophylact, said that, as far
as servants of the Church were concerned, the phrase could not be
construed as a prohibition of censure, since the apostles themselves
were censorious. Others said that Jesus doubtless referred to the Jews,
who accused their neighbors of shortcomings, and were themselves guilty
of great sins.

Nowhere a word about human institutions, about tribunals, to show how
they were affected by the warning, "_Judge not_." Did Jesus sanction
courts of justice, or did he not? To this very natural question I found
no reply--as if it was evident that from the moment a Christian took his
seat on the judge's bench he might not only judge his neighbor, but
condemn him to death.

I turned to other writers, Greek, Catholic, Protestant, to the Tübingen
school, to the historical school. Everywhere, even by the most liberal
commentators, the words in question were interpreted as an injunction
against evil-speaking.

But why, contrary to the spirit of the whole doctrine of Jesus, are
these words interpreted in so narrow a way as to exclude courts of
justice from the injunction, "_Judge not_"? Why the supposition that
Jesus in forbidding the comparatively light offence of speaking evil of
one's neighbor did not forbid, did not even consider, the more
deliberate judgment which results in punishment inflicted upon the
condemned? To all this I got no response; not even an allusion to the
least possibility that the words "to judge" could be used as referring
to a court of justice, to the tribunals from whose punishments so many
millions have suffered.

Moreover, when the words, "_Judge not, condemn not_," are under
discussion, the cruelty of judging in courts of justice is passed over
in silence, or else commended. The commentators all declare that in
Christian societies tribunals are necessary, and in no way contrary to
the law of Jesus.

Realizing this, I began to doubt the sincerity of the commentators; and
I did what I should have done in the first place; I turned to the
textual translations of the words which we render "to judge" and "to
condemn." In the original these words are [Greek: krinô] and [Greek:
katadikazô]. The defective translation in James of [Greek: katalaleô],
which is rendered "to speak evil," strengthened my doubts as to the
correct translation of the others. When I looked through different
versions of the Gospels, I found [Greek: katadikazô] rendered in the
Vulgate by _condemnare_, "to condemn"; in the Sclavonic text the
rendering is equivalent to that of the Vulgate; Luther has _verdammen_,
"to speak evil of." These divergent renderings increased my doubts, and
I was obliged to ask again the meaning of [Greek: krinô], as used by the
two evangelists, and of [Greek: katadikazô], as used by Luke who,
scholars tell us, wrote very correct Greek.

How would these words be translated by a man who knew nothing of the
evangelical creed, and who had before him only the phrases in which they
are used?

Consulting the dictionary, I found that the word [Greek: krinô] had
several different meanings, among the most used being "to condemn in a
court of justice," and even "to condemn to death," but in no instance
did it signify "to speak evil." I consulted a dictionary of New
Testament Greek, and found that was often used in the sense "to condemn
in a court of justice," sometimes in the sense "to choose," never as
meaning "to speak evil." From which I inferred that the word [Greek:
krinô] might be translated in different ways, but that the rendering "to
speak evil" was the most forced and far-fetched.

I searched for the word [Greek: katadikazô], which follows [Greek:
krinô], evidently to define more closely the sense in which the latter
is to be understood. I looked for [Greek: katadikazô] in the dictionary,
and found that it had no other signification than "to condemn in
judgment," or "to judge worthy of death." I found that the word was used
four times in the New Testament, each time in the sense "to condemn
under sentence, to judge worthy of death." In James (v. 6) we read, "_Ye
have condemned and killed the just_." The word rendered "condemned" is
this same [Greek: katadikazô], and is used with reference to Jesus, who
was condemned to death by a court of justice. The word is never used in
any other sense, in the New Testament or in any other writing in the
Greek language.

What, then, are we to say to all this? Is my conclusion a foolish one?
Is not every one who considers the fate of humanity filled with horror
at the sufferings inflicted upon mankind by the enforcement of criminal
codes,--a scourge to those who condemn as well as to the
condemned,--from the slaughters of Genghis Khan to those of the French
Revolution and the executions of our own times? He would indeed be
without compassion who could refrain from feeling horror and repulsion,
not only at the sight of human beings thus treated by their kind, but at
the simple recital of death inflicted by the knout, the guillotine, or
the gibbet.

The Gospel, of which every word is sacred to you, declares distinctly
and without equivocation: "You have from of old a criminal law, An eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; but a new law is given you, That you
resist not evil. Obey this law; render not evil for evil, but do good to
every one, forgive every one, under all circumstances." Further on comes
the injunction, "_Judge not_," and that these words might not be
misunderstood, Jesus added, "_Condemn not_; condemn not in justice the
crimes of others."

"No more death-warrants," said an inner voice--"no more death-warrants,"
said the voice of science; "evil cannot suppress evil." The Word of God,
in which I believed, told me the same thing. And when in reading the
doctrine, I came to the words, "_Condemn not, and ye shall not be
condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven_," could I look upon them
as meaning simply that I was not to indulge in gossip and evil-speaking,
and should continue to regard tribunals as a Christian institution, and
myself as a Christian judge?

I was overwhelmed with horror at the grossness of the error into which I
had fallen.




CHAPTER IV.


I NOW understood the words of Jesus: "_Ye have heard that it hath been
said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: but I say unto you,
That ye resist not evil._" Jesus' meaning is: "You have thought that you
were acting in a reasonable manner in defending yourself by violence
against evil, in tearing out an eye for an eye, by fighting against evil
with criminal tribunals, guardians of the peace, armies; but I say unto
you, Renounce violence; have nothing to do with violence; do harm to no
one, not even to your enemy." I understood now that in saying "_Resist
not evil_," Jesus not only told us what would result from the observance
of this rule, but established a new basis for society conformable to his
doctrine and opposed to the social basis established by the law of
Moses, by Roman law, and by the different codes in force to-day. He
formulated a new law whose effect would be to deliver humanity from its
self-inflicted woes. His declaration was: "You believe that your laws
reform criminals; as a matter of fact, they only make more criminals.
There is only one way to suppress evil, and that is to return good for
evil, without respect of persons. For thousands of years you have tried
the other method; now try mine, try the reverse."

Strange to say, in these later days, I talked with different persons
about this commandment of Jesus, "_Resist not evil_," and rarely found
any one to coincide with my opinion! Two classes of men would never,
even by implication, admit the literal interpretation of the law. These
men were at the extreme poles of the social scale,--they were the
conservative Christian patriots who maintained the infallibility of the
Church, and the atheistic revolutionists. Neither of these two classes
was willing to renounce the right to resist by violence what they
regarded as evil. And the wisest and most intelligent among them would
not acknowledge the simple and evident truth, that if we once admit the
right of any man to resist by violence what he regards as evil, every
other man has equally the right to resist by violence what he regards as
evil.

Not long ago I had in my hands an interesting correspondence between an
orthodox Slavophile and a Christian revolutionist. The one advocated
violence as a partisan of a war for the relief of brother Slavs in
bondage; the other, as a partisan of revolution, in the name of our
brothers the oppressed Russian peasantry. Both invoked violence, and
each based himself upon the doctrine of Jesus. The doctrine of Jesus is
understood in a hundred different ways; but never, unhappily, in the
simple and direct way which harmonizes with the inevitable meaning of
Jesus' words.

Our entire social fabric is founded upon principles that Jesus reproved;
we do not wish to understand his doctrine in its simple and direct
acceptation, and yet we assure ourselves and others that we follow his
doctrine, or else that his doctrine is not expedient for us. Believers
profess that Christ as God, the second person of the Trinity, descended
upon earth to teach men by his example how to live; they go through the
most elaborate ceremonies for the consummation of the sacraments, the
building of temples, the sending out of missionaries, the establishment
of priesthoods, for parochial administration, for the performance of
rituals; but they forget one little detail,--the practice of the
commandments of Jesus. Unbelievers endeavor in every possible way to
organize their existence independent of the doctrine of Jesus, they
having decided _a priori_ that this doctrine is of no account. But to
endeavor to put his teachings in practice, this each refuses to do; and
the worst of it is, that without any attempt to put them in practice,
both believers and unbelievers decide _a priori_ that it is impossible.

Jesus said, simply and clearly, that the law of resistance to evil by
violence, which has been made the basis of society, is false, and
contrary to man's nature; and he gave another basis, that of
non-resistance to evil, a law which, according to his doctrine, would
deliver man from wrong. "You believe" (he says in substance) "that your
laws, which resort to violence, correct evil; not at all; they only
augment it. For thousands of years you have tried to destroy evil by
evil, and you have not destroyed it; you have only augmented it. Do as I
command you, follow my example, and you will know that my doctrine is
true." Not only in words, but by his acts, by his death, did Jesus
propound his doctrine, "_Resist not evil_."

Believers listen to all this. They hear it in their churches, persuaded
that the words are divine; they worship Jesus as God, and then they say:
"All this is admirable, but it is impossible; as society is now
organized, it would derange our whole existence, and we should be
obliged to give up the customs that are so dear to us. We believe it
all, but only in this sense: That it is the ideal toward which humanity
ought to move; the ideal which is to be attained by prayer, and by
believing in the sacraments, in the redemption, and in the resurrection
of the dead."

The others, the unbelievers, the free-thinkers who comment on the
doctrine of Jesus, the historians of religions, the Strausses, the
Renans,--completely imbued with the teachings of the Church, which says
that the doctrine of Jesus accords with difficulty with our conceptions
of life,--tell us very seriously that the doctrine of Jesus is the
doctrine of a visionary, the consolation of feeble minds; that it was
all very well preached in the fishermen's huts by Galilee; but that for
us it is only the sweet dream of one whom Renan calls the "charmant
docteur."

In their opinion, Jesus could not rise to the heights of wisdom and
culture attained by our civilization. If he had been on an intellectual
level with his modern critics, he never would have uttered his charming
nonsense about the birds of the air, the turning of the other cheek, the
taking no thought for the morrow. These historical critics judge of the
value of Christianity by what they see of it as it now exists. The
Christianity of our age and civilization approves of society as it now
is, with its prison-cells, its factories, its houses of infamy, its
parliaments; but as for the doctrine of Jesus, which is opposed to
modern society, it is only empty words. The historical critics see this,
and, unlike the so-called believers, having no motives for concealment,
submit the doctrine to a careful analysis; they refute it
systematically, and prove that Christianity is made up of nothing but
chimerical ideas.

It would seem that before deciding upon the doctrine of Jesus, it would
be necessary to understand of what it consisted; and to decide whether
his doctrine is reasonable or not, it would be well first to realize
that he said exactly what he did say. And this is precisely what we do
not do, what the Church commentators do not do, what the free-thinkers
do not do--and we know very well why. We know perfectly well that the
doctrine of Jesus is directed at and denounces all human errors, all
_tohu_, all the empty idols that we try to except from the category of
errors, by dubbing them "Church," "State," "Culture," "Science," "Art,"
"Civilization." But Jesus spoke precisely of all these, of these and all
other _tohu_. Not only Jesus, but all the Hebrew prophets, John the
Baptist, all the true sages of the world denounced the Church and State
and culture and civilization of their times as sources of man's
perdition.

Imagine an architect who says to a house-owner, "Your house is good for
nothing; you must rebuild it," and then describes how the supports are
to be cut and fastened. The proprietor turns a deaf ear to the words,
"Your house is good for nothing," and only listens respectfully when the
architect begins to discuss the arrangement of the rooms. Evidently, in
this case, all the subsequent advice of the architect will seem to be
impracticable; less respectful proprietors would regard it as
nonsensical. But it is precisely in this way that we treat the doctrine
of Jesus. I give this illustration for want of a better. I remember now
that Jesus in teaching his doctrine made use of the same comparison.
"_Destroy this temple_," he said, "_and in three days I will raise it
up_." It was for this they put him on the cross, and for this they now
crucify his doctrine.

The least that can be asked of those who pass judgment upon any doctrine
is that they shall judge of it with the same understanding as that with
which it was propounded. Jesus understood his doctrine, not as a vague
and distant ideal impossible of attainment, not as a collection of
fantastic and poetical reveries with which to charm the simple
inhabitants on the shores of Galilee; to him his doctrine was a doctrine
of action, of acts which should become the salvation of mankind. This he
showed in his manner of applying his doctrine. The crucified one who
cried out in agony of spirit and died for his doctrine was not a
dreamer; he was a man of action. They are not dreamers who have died,
and still die, for his doctrine. No; that doctrine is not a chimera!

All doctrine that reveals the truth is chimerical to the blind. We may
say, as many people do say (I was of the number), that the doctrine of
Jesus is chimerical because it is contrary to human nature. It is
against nature, we say, to turn the other cheek when we have been
struck, to give all that we possess, to toil not for ourselves but for
others. It is natural, we say, for a man to defend his person, his
family, his property; that is to say, it is the nature of man to
struggle for existence. A learned person has proved scientifically that
the most sacred duty of man is to defend his rights, that is, to fight.

But the moment we detach ourselves from the idea that the existing
organization established by man is the best, is sacred, the moment we do
this, the objection that the doctrine of Jesus is contrary to human
nature turns immediately upon him who makes it. No one will deny that
not only to kill or torture a man, but to torture a dog, to kill a fowl
or a calf, is to inflict suffering reproved by human nature. (I have
known of farmers who had ceased to eat meat solely because it had
fallen to their lot to slaughter animals.) And yet our existence is so
organized that every personal enjoyment is purchased at the price of
human suffering contrary to human nature.

We have only to examine closely the complicated mechanism of our
institutions that are based upon coercion to realize that coercion and
violence are contrary to human nature. The judge who has condemned
according to the code, is not willing to hang the criminal with his own
hands; no clerk would tear a villager from his weeping family and cast
him into prison; the general or the soldier, unless he be hardened by
discipline and service, will not undertake to slay a hundred Turks or
Germans or destroy a village, would not, if he could help it, kill a
single man. Yet all these things are done, thanks to the administrative
machinery which divides responsibility for misdeeds in such a way that
no one feels them to be contrary to nature.

Some make the laws, others execute them; some train men by discipline to
automatic obedience; and these last, in their turn, become the
instruments of coercion, and slay their kind without knowing why or to
what end. But let a man disentangle himself for a moment from this
complicated network, and he will readily see that coercion is contrary
to his nature. Let us abstain from affirming that organized violence, of
which we make use to our own profit, is a divine, immutable law, and we
shall see clearly which is most in harmony with human nature,--the
doctrine of violence or the doctrine of Jesus.

What is the law of nature? Is it to know that my security and that of my
family, all my amusements and pleasures, are purchased at the expense of
misery, deprivation, and suffering to thousands of human beings--by the
terror of the gallows; by the misfortune of thousands stifling within
prison walls; by the fear inspired by millions of soldiers and guardians
of civilization, torn from their homes and besotted by discipline, to
protect our pleasures with loaded revolvers against the possible
interference of the famishing? Is it to purchase every fragment of bread
that I put in my mouth and the mouths of my children by the numberless
privations that are necessary to procure my abundance? Or is it to be
certain that my piece of bread only belongs to me when I know that every
one else has a share, and that no one starves while I eat?

It is only necessary to understand that, thanks to our social
organization, each one of our pleasures, every minute of our cherished
tranquility, is obtained by the sufferings and privations of thousands
of our fellows--it is only necessary to understand this, to know what is
conformable to human nature; not to our animal nature alone, but the
animal and spiritual nature which constitutes man. When we once
understand the doctrine of Jesus in all its bearings, with all its
consequences, we shall be convinced that his doctrine is not contrary to
human nature; but that its sole object is to supplant the chimerical
law of the struggle against evil by violence--itself the law contrary
to human nature and productive of so many evils.

Do you say that the doctrine of Jesus, "_Resist not evil_," is vain?
What, then, are we to think of the lives of those who are not filled
with love and compassion for their kind,--of those who make ready for
their fellow-men punishment at the stake, by the knout, the wheel, the
rack, chains, compulsory labor, the gibbet, dungeons, prisons for women
and children, the hecatombs of war, or bring about periodical
revolutions; of those who carry these horrors into execution; of those
who benefit by these calamities or prepare reprisals,--are not such
lives vain?

We need only understand the doctrine of Jesus, to be convinced that
existence,--not the reasonable existence which gives happiness to
humanity, but the existence men have organized to their own hurt,--that
such an existence is a vanity, the most savage and horrible of vanities,
a veritable delirium of folly, to which, once reclaimed, we do not again
return.

God descended to earth, became incarnate to redeem Adam's sin, and (so
we were taught to believe) said many mysterious and mystical things
which are difficult to understand, which it is not possible to
understand except by the aid of faith and grace--and suddenly the words
of God are found to be simple, clear, and reasonable! God said, Do no
evil, and evil will cease to exist. Was the revelation from God really
so simple--nothing but that? It would seem that every one might
understand it, it is so simple!

The prophet Elijah, a fugitive from men, took refuge in a cave, and was
told that God would appear to him. There came a great wind that
devastated the forest; Elijah thought that the Lord had come, but the
Lord was not in the wind. After the wind came the thunder and the
lightning, but God was not there. Then came the earthquake: the earth
belched forth fire, the rocks were shattered, the mountain was rent to
its foundations; Elijah looked for the Lord, but the Lord was not in the
earthquake. Then, in the calm that followed, a gentle breeze came to the
prophet, bearing the freshness of the fields; and Elijah knew that God
was there. It is a magnificent illustration of the words, "_Resist not
evil_."

They are very simple, these words; but they are, nevertheless, the
expression of a law divine and human. If there has been in history a
progressive movement for the suppression of evil, it is due to the men
who understood the doctrine of Jesus--who endured evil, and resisted not
evil by violence. The advance of humanity towards righteousness is due,
not to the tyrants, but to the martyrs. As fire cannot extinguish fire,
so evil cannot suppress evil. Good alone, confronting evil and resisting
its contagion, can overcome evil. And in the inner world of the human
soul, the law is as absolute as it was for the hearers by Galilee, more
absolute, more clear, more immutable. Men may turn aside from it, they
may hide its truth from others; but the progress of humanity towards
righteousness can only be attained in this way. Every step must be
guided by the command, "_Resist not evil_." A disciple of Jesus may say
now, with greater assurance than they of Galilee, in spite of
misfortunes and threats: "And yet it is not violence, but good, that
overcomes evil." If the progress is slow, it is because the doctrine of
Jesus (which, through its clearness, simplicity, and wisdom, appeals so
inevitably to human nature), because the doctrine of Jesus has been
cunningly concealed from the majority of mankind under an entirely
different doctrine falsely called by his name.




CHAPTER V.


THE true meaning of the doctrine of Jesus was revealed to me; everything
confirmed its truth. But for a long time I could not accustom myself to
the strange fact, that after the eighteen centuries during which the law
of Jesus had been professed by millions of human beings, after the
eighteen centuries during which thousands of men had consecrated their
lives to the study of this law, I had discovered it for myself anew. But
strange as it seemed, so it was. Jesus' law, "_Resist not evil_," was to
me wholly new, something of which I had never had any conception before.
I asked myself how this could be; I must certainly have had a false idea
of the doctrine of Jesus to cause such a misunderstanding. And a false
idea of it I unquestionably had. When I began to read the Gospel, I was
not in the condition of one who, having heard nothing of the doctrine of
Jesus, becomes acquainted with it for the first time; on the contrary, I
had a preconceived theory as to the manner in which I ought to
understand it. Jesus did not appeal to me as a prophet revealing the
divine law, but as one who continued and amplified the absolute divine
law which I already knew; for I had very definite and complex notions
about God, the creator of the world and of man, and about the
commandments of God given to men through the instrumentality of Moses.

When I came to the words, "_Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist
not evil_,"--the words, "_An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth_,"
expressed the law given by God to Moses; the words, "_But I say unto
you, That ye resist not evil_," expressed the new law, which was a
negation of the first. If I had seen Jesus' words, simply, in their true
sense, and not as a part of the theological theory that I had imbibed at
my mother's breast, I should have understood immediately that Jesus
abrogated the old law, and substituted for it a new law. But I had been
taught that Jesus did not abrogate the law of Moses, that, on the
contrary, he confirmed it to the slightest iota, and that he made it
more complete. Verses 17-20 of the fifth chapter of Matthew always
impressed me, when I read the Gospel, by their obscurity, and they
plunged me into doubt. I knew the Old Testament, particularly the last
books of Moses, very thoroughly, and recalling certain passages in which
minute doctrines, often absurd and even cruel in their purport, are
preceded by the words, "And the Lord said unto Moses," it seemed to me
very singular that Jesus should confirm all these injunctions; I could
not understand why he did so. But I allowed the question to pass without
solution, and accepted with confidence the explanations inculcated in my
infancy,--that the two laws were equally inspired by the Holy Spirit,
that they were in perfect accord, and that Jesus confirmed the law of
Moses while completing and amplifying it. I did not concern myself with
accounting for the process of this amplification, with the solution of
the contradictions apparent throughout the whole Gospel, in verses 17-20
of the fifth chapter, in the words, "_But I say unto you_."

Now that I understood the clear and simple meaning of the doctrine of
Jesus, I saw clearly that the two laws are directly opposed to one
another; that they can never be harmonized; that, instead of
supplementing one by the other, we must inevitably choose between the
two; and that the received explanation of the verses, Matthew v. 17-20,
which had impressed me by their obscurity, must be incorrect.

When I now came to read once more the verses that had before impressed
me as obscure, I was astonished at the clear and simple meaning which
was suddenly revealed to me. This meaning was revealed, not by any
combination and transposition, but solely by rejecting the factitious
explanations with which the words had been encumbered. According to
Matthew, Jesus said (v. 17-18):--

"_Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets_ (the
doctrine of the prophets): _I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. For
verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle
shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled._"

And in verse 20 he added:--

"_For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the
righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter
into the kingdom of heaven._"

I am not come (Jesus said) to destroy the eternal law of whose
fulfilment your books of prophecy foretell. I am come to teach you the
fulfilment of the eternal law; not of the law that your scribes and
pharisees call the divine law, but of that eternal law which is more
immutable than the earth and the heavens.

I have expressed the idea in other words in order to detach the thoughts
of my readers from the traditional false interpretation. If this false
interpretation had never existed, the idea expressed in the verses could
not be rendered in a better or more definite manner.

The view that Jesus did not abrogate the old law arises from the
arbitrary conclusion that "law" in this passage signifies the written
law instead of the law eternal, the reference to the iota--jot and
tittle--perhaps furnishing the grounds for such an opinion. But if Jesus
had been speaking of the written law, he would have used the expression
"the law and the prophets," which he always employed in speaking of the
written law; here, however, he uses a different expression,--"the law
_or_ the prophets." If Jesus had meant the written law, he would have
used the expression, "the law and the prophets," in the verses that
follow and that continue the thought; but he says, briefly, "the law."
Moreover, according to Luke, Jesus made use of the same phraseology, and
the context renders the meaning inevitable. According to Luke, Jesus
said to the Pharisees, who assumed the justice of their written law:--

"_Ye are they which justify yourselves before men; but God knoweth your
hearts: for that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in
the sight of God. The law and the prophets were until John: since that
time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it. And
it is easier for heaven and earth to pass, than one tittle of the law to
fail._" (Luke xvi. 15-17.)

In the words, "_The law and the prophets were until John_," Jesus
abrogated the written law; in the words, "_And it is easier for heaven
and earth to pass, than one tittle of the law to fail_," Jesus confirmed
the law eternal. In the first passage cited he said, "the law _and_ the
prophets," that is, the written law; in the second he said "the law"
simply, therefore the law eternal. It is clear, then, that the eternal
law is opposed to the written law,[3] exactly as in the context of
Matthew where the eternal law is defined by the phrase, "the law _or_
the prophets."

     [3] More than this, as if to do away with all doubt about the law
     to which he referred, Jesus cites immediately, in connection with
     this passage, the most decisive instance of the negation of the law
     of Moses by the eternal law, the law of which not the smallest jot
     is to fail: "_Whosoever putteth away his wife, and marrieth
     another, committeth adultery._" (Luke xvi. 18.) That is, according
     to the written law divorce is permissible; according to the eternal
     law it is forbidden.

The history of the variants of the text of these verses is quite worthy
of notice. The majority of texts have simply "the law," without the
addition, "and the prophets," thus avoiding a false interpretation in
the sense of the written law. In other texts, notably that of
Tischendorf, and in the canonical versions, we find the word "prophets"
used, not with the conjunction "and," but with the conjunction
"or,"--"the law _or_ the prophets,"--which also excludes any question of
the written law, and indicates, as the proper signification, the law
eternal. In several other versions, not countenanced by the Church, we
find the word "prophets" used with the conjunction "and," not with "or";
and in these versions every repetition of the words "the law" is
followed by the phrase, "and the prophets," which would indicate that
Jesus spoke only of the written law.

The history of the commentaries on the passage in question coincides
with that of the variants. The only clear meaning is that authorized by
Luke,--that Jesus spoke of the eternal law. But among the copyists of
the Gospel were some who desired that the written law of Moses should
continue to be regarded as obligatory. They therefore added to the words
"the law" the phrase "and the prophets," and thereby changed the
interpretation of the text.

Other Christians, not recognizing to the same degree the authority of
the books of Moses, suppressed the added phrase, and replaced the
particle [Greek: kai], "and," with [Greek: ê], "or"; and with this
substitution the passage was admitted to the canon. Nevertheless, in
spite of the unequivocal clearness of the text as thus written, the
commentators perpetuated the interpretation supported by the phrase
which had been rejected in the canon. The passage evoked innumerable
comments, which stray from the true signification in proportion to the
lack, on the part of the commentators, of fidelity to the simple and
obvious meaning of Jesus' doctrine. Most of them recognize the reading
rejected by the canonical text.

To be absolutely convinced that Jesus spoke only of the eternal law, we
need only examine the true meaning of the word which has given rise to
so many false interpretations. The word "law" (in Greek [Greek: nomos],
in Hebrew [Hebrew: torah], _torah_) has in all languages two principal
meanings: one, law in the abstract sense, independent of formulæ; the
other, the written statutes which men generally recognize as law. In the
Greek of Paul's Epistles the distinction is indicated by the use of the
article. Without the article Paul uses [Greek: nomos] the most
frequently in the sense of the divine eternal law. By the ancient
Hebrews, as in books of Isaiah and the other prophets, [Hebrew: torah],
_torah_, is always used in the sense of an eternal revelation, a divine
intuition. It was not till the time of Esdras, and later in the Talmud,
that "Torah" was used in the same sense in which we use the word
"Bible"--with this difference, that while we have words to distinguish
between the Bible and the divine law, the Jews employed the same word to
express both meanings.

And so Jesus sometimes speaks of law as the divine law (of Isaiah and
the other prophets), in which case he confirms it; and sometimes in the
sense of the written law of the Pentateuch, in which case he rejects it.
To distinguish the difference, he always, in speaking of the written
law, adds, "and the prophets," or prefixes the word "your,"--"your law."

When he says: "_Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should
do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets_"
(Matt. vii. 12), he speaks of the written law. The entire written law,
he says, may be reduced to this expression of the eternal law, and by
these words he abrogated the eternal law. When he says, "_The law and
the prophets were until John_" (Luke xvi. 16), he speaks of the written
law, and abrogates it. When he says, "_Did not Moses give you the law,
and yet none of you keepeth the law_" (John vii. 19), "_It is also
written in your law_" (John viii. 17), "_that the word might be
fulfilled that is written in their law_" (John xv. 25), he speaks of the
written law, the law whose authority he denied, the law that condemned
him to death: "_The Jews answered him, We have a law, and by our law he
ought to die_" (John xix. 7). It is plain that this Jewish law, which
authorized condemnation to death, was not the law of Jesus. But when
Jesus says, "I am not come to destroy the law, but to teach you the
fulfilment of the law; for nothing of this law shall be changed, but all
shall be fulfilled," then he speaks, not of the written law, but of the
divine and eternal law.

Admit that all this is merely formal proof; admit that I have carefully
combined contexts and variants, and excluded everything contrary to my
theory; admit that the commentators of the Church are clear and
convincing, that, in fact, Jesus did not abrogate the law of Moses, but
upheld it--admit this: then the question is, what were the teachings of
Jesus?

According to the Church, he taught that he was the second person of the
Trinity, the Son of God, and that he came into the world to atone by his
death for Adam's sin. Those, however, who have read the Gospels know
that Jesus taught nothing of the sort, or at least spoke but very
vaguely on these topics. The passages in which Jesus affirms that he is
the second person of the Trinity, and that he was to atone for the sins
of humanity, form a very inconsiderable and very obscure portion of the
Gospels. In what, then, does the rest of Jesus' doctrine consist? It is
impossible to deny, for all Christians have recognized the fact, that
the doctrine of Jesus aims summarily to regulate the lives of men, to
teach them how they ought to live with regard to one another. But to
realize that Jesus taught men a new way of life, we must have some idea
of the condition of the people to whom his teachings were addressed.

When we examine into the social development of the Russians, the
English, the Chinese, the Indians, or even the races of insular
savages, we find that each people invariably has certain practical rules
or laws which govern its existence; consequently, if any one would
inculcate a new law, he must at the same time abolish the old; in any
race or nation this would be inevitable. Laws that we are accustomed to
regard as almost sacred would assuredly be abrogated; with us, perhaps,
it might happen that a reformer who taught a new law would abolish only
our civil laws, the official code, our administrative customs, without
touching what we consider as our divine laws, although it is difficult
to believe that such could be the case. But with the Jewish people, who
had but one law, and that recognized as divine,--a law which enveloped
life to its minutest details,--what could a reformer accomplish if he
declared in advance that the existing law was inviolable?

Admit that this argument is not conclusive, and try to interpret the
words of Jesus as an affirmation of the entire Mosaic law; in that case,
who were the Pharisees, the scribes, the doctors of the law, denounced
by Jesus during the whole of his ministry? Who were they that rejected
the doctrine of Jesus and, their High Priests at their head, crucified
him? If Jesus approved the law of Moses, where were the faithful
followers of that law, who practised it sincerely, and must thereby have
obtained Jesus' approval? Is it possible that there was not one such?
The Pharisees, we are told, constituted a sect; where, then, were the
righteous?

In the Gospel of John the enemies of Jesus are spoken of directly as
"the Jews." They are opposed to the doctrine of Jesus; they are hostile
because they are Jews. But it is not only the Pharisees and the
Sadducees who figure in the Gospels as the enemies of Jesus: we also
find mention of the doctors of the law, the guardians of the law of
Moses, the scribes, the interpreters of the law, the ancients, those who
are always considered as representatives of the people's wisdom. Jesus
said, "_I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to
repentance_," to change their way of life ([Greek: metanoia]). But where
were the righteous? Was Nicodemus the only one? He is represented as a
good, but misguided man.

We are so habituated to the singular opinion that Jesus was crucified by
the Pharisees and a number of Jewish shopkeepers, that we never think to
ask, Where were the true Jews, the good Jews, the Jews that practised
the law? When we have once propounded this query, everything becomes
perfectly clear. Jesus, whether he was God or man, brought his doctrine
to a people possessing rules, called the divine law, governing their
whole existence. How could Jesus avoid denouncing that law?

Every prophet, every founder of a religion, inevitably meets, in
revealing the divine law to men, with institutions which are regarded as
upheld by the laws of God. He cannot, therefore, avoid a double use of
the word "law," which expresses what his hearers wrongfully consider the
law of God ("your law"), and the law he has come to proclaim, the true
law, the divine and eternal law. A reformer not only cannot avoid the
use of the word in this manner; often he does not wish to avoid it, but
purposely confounds the two ideas, thus indicating that, in the law
confessed by those whom he would convert, there are still some eternal
truths. Every reformer takes these truths, so well known to his hearers,
as the basis of his teaching. This is precisely what Jesus did in
addressing the Jews, by whom the two laws were vaguely grouped together
as "Torah." Jesus recognized that the Mosaic law, and still more the
prophetical books, especially the writings of Isaiah, whose words he
constantly quotes,--Jesus recognized that these contained divine and
eternal truths in harmony with the eternal law, and these he takes as
the basis of his own doctrine. This method was many times referred to by
Jesus; thus he said, "_What is written in the law? how readest thou?_"
(Luke x. 26). That is, one may find eternal truth in the law, if one
reads it aright. And more than once he affirms that the commandments of
the Mosaic law, to love the Lord and one's neighbor, are also
commandments of the eternal law. At the conclusion of the parables by
which Jesus explained the meaning of his doctrine to his disciples, he
pronounced words that have a bearing upon all that precedes:--

"_Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven_
(the truth) _is like unto a man that is a householder, which bringeth
forth out of his treasure_ (without distinction) _things new and old_."
(Matt. xiii. 52.)

The Church understands these words, as they were understood by Irenæus;
but at the same time, in defiance of the true signification, it
arbitrarily attributes to them the meaning that everything old is
sacred. The manifest meaning is this: He who seeks for the good, takes
not only the new, but also the old; and because a thing is old, he does
not therefore reject it. By these words Jesus meant that he did not deny
what was eternal in the old law. But when they spoke to him of the whole
law, or of the formalities exacted by the old law, his reply was that
new wine should not be put into old bottles. Jesus could not affirm the
whole law; neither could he deny the entire teachings of the law and the
prophets,--the law which says, "_love thy neighbor as thyself_," the
prophets whose words often served to express his own thoughts. And yet,
in place of this clear and simple explanation of Jesus' words, we are
offered a vague interpretation which introduces needless contradictions,
which reduces the doctrine of Jesus to nothingness, and which
re-establishes the doctrine of Moses in all its savage cruelty.

Commentators of the Church, particularly those who have written since
the fifth century, tell us that Jesus did not abolish the written law;
that, on the contrary, he affirmed it. But in what way? How is it
possible that the law of Jesus should harmonize with the law of Moses?
To these inquiries we get no response. The commentators all make use of
a verbal juggle to the effect that Jesus fulfilled the law of Moses, and
that the sayings of the prophets were fulfilled in his person; that
Jesus fulfilled the law as our mediator by our faith in him. And the
essential question for every believer--How to harmonize two conflicting
laws, each designed to regulate the lives of men?--is left without the
slightest attempt at explanation. Thus the contradiction between the
verse where it is said that Jesus did not come to destroy the law, but
to fulfil the law, and Jesus' saying, "_Ye have heard that it hath been
said, An eye for an eye_... _But I say unto you_,"--the contradiction
between the doctrine of Jesus and the very spirit of the Mosaic
doctrine,--is left without any mitigation.

Let those who are interested in the question look through the Church
commentaries touching this passage from the time of Chrysostom to our
day. After a perusal of the voluminous explanations offered, they will
be convinced not only of the complete absence of any solution for the
contradiction, but of the presence of a new, factitious contradiction
arising in its place. Let us see what Chrysostom says in reply to those
who reject the law of Moses:--

"He made this law, not that we might strike out one another's eyes, but
that fear of suffering by others might restrain us from doing any such
thing to them. As therefore He threatened the Ninevites with overthrow,
not that He might destroy them (for had that been His will, He ought to
have been silent), but that He might by fear make them better, and so
quiet His wrath: so also hath He appointed a punishment for those who
wantonly assail the eyes of others, that if good principle dispose them
not to refrain from such cruelty, fear may restrain them from injuring
their neighbors' sight.

"And if this be cruelty, it is cruelty also for the murderer to be
restrained, and the adulterer checked. But these are the sayings of
senseless men, and of those that are mad to the extreme of madness. For
I, so far from saying that this comes of cruelty, should say that the
contrary to this would be unlawful, according to men's reckoning. And
whereas thou sayest, 'Because He commanded to pluck out _an eye for an
eye_, therefore He is cruel'; I say that if He had not given this
commandment, then He would have seemed, in the judgment of most men, to
be that which thou sayest He is."

Chrysostom clearly recognized the law. _An eye for an eye_, as divine,
and the contrary of that law, that is, the doctrine of Jesus, _Resist
not evil_, as an iniquity. "For let us suppose," says Chrysostom
further:--

"For let us suppose that this law had been altogether done away, and
that no one feared the punishment ensuing thereupon, but that license
had been given to all the wicked to follow their own dispositions in all
security to adulterers, and to murderers, to perjured persons, and to
parricides; would not all things have been turned upside down? would
not cities, market-places and houses, sea and land, and the whole world
have been filled with unnumbered pollutions and murders? Every one sees
it. For if, when there are laws, and fear, and threatening, our evil
dispositions are hardly checked; were even this security taken away,
what is there to prevent men's choosing vice? and what degree of
mischief would not then come revelling upon the whole of human life?

"The rather, since cruelty lies not only in allowing the bad to do what
they will, but in another thing too quite as much,--to overlook, and
leave uncared for, him who hath done no wrong, but who is without cause
or reason suffering ill. For tell me; were any one to gather together
wicked men from all quarters, and arm them with swords, and bid them go
about the whole city, and massacre all that came in their way, could
there be anything more like a wild beast than he? And what if some
others should bind, and confine with the utmost strictness, those whom
that man had armed, and should snatch from those lawless hands them who
were on the point of being butchered; could anything be greater humanity
than this?"

Chrysostom does not say what would be the estimate of these others in
the opinion of the wicked. And what if these others were themselves
wicked and cast the innocent into prison? Chrysostom continues:--

"Now then, I bid thee transfer these examples to the Law likewise; for
He that commands to pluck out _an eye for an eye_ hath laid the fear as
a kind of strong chain upon the souls of the bad, and so resembles him
who detains those assassins in prison; whereas he who appoints no
punishment for them, doth all but arm them by such security, and acts
the part of that other, who was putting the swords in their hands, and
letting them loose over the whole city." ("Homilies on the Gospel of St.
Matthew," xvi.)

If Chrysostom had understood the law of Jesus, he would have said, Who
is it that strikes out another's eyes? who is it that casts men into
prison? If God, who made the law, does this, then there is no
contradiction; but it is men who carry out the decrees, and the Son of
God has said to men that they must abstain from violence. God commanded
to strike out, and the Son of God commanded not to strike out. We must
accept one commandment or the other; and Chrysostom, like all the rest
of the Church, accepted the commandment of Moses and denied that of the
Christ, whose doctrine he nevertheless claims to believe.

Jesus abolished the Mosaic law, and gave his own law in its place. To
one who really believes in Jesus there is not the slightest
contradiction; such an one will pay no attention to the law of Moses,
but will practise the law of Jesus, which he believes. To one who
believes in the law of Moses there is no contradiction. The Jews looked
upon the words of Jesus as foolishness, and believed in the law of
Moses. The contradiction is only for those who would follow the law of
Moses under the cover of the law of Jesus--for those whom Jesus
denounced as hypocrites, as a generation of vipers.

Instead of recognizing as divine truth the one or the other of the two
laws, the law of Moses or that of Jesus, we recognize the divine quality
of both. But when the question comes with regard to the acts of
every-day life, we reject the law of Jesus and follow that of Moses. And
this false interpretation, when we realize its importance, reveals the
source of that terrible drama which records the struggle between evil
and good, between darkness and light.

To the Jewish people, trained to the innumerable formal regulations
instituted by the Levites in the rubric of divine laws, each preceded by
the words, "And the Lord said unto Moses"--to the Jewish people Jesus
appeared. He found everything, to the minutest detail, prescribed by
rule; not only the relation of man with God, but his sacrifices, his
feasts, his fasts, his social, civil, and family duties, the details of
personal habits, circumcision, the purification of the body, of domestic
utensils, of clothing--all these regulated by laws recognized as
commandments of God, and therefore as divine.

Excluding the question of Jesus' divine mission, what could any prophet
or reformer do who wished to establish his own doctrines among a people
so enveloped in formalism--what but abolish the law by which all these
details were regulated? Jesus selected from what men considered as the
law of God the portions which were really divine; he took what served
his purpose, rejected the rest, and upon this foundation established the
eternal law. It was not necessary to abolish all, but inevitable to
abrogate much that was looked upon as obligatory. This Jesus did, and
was accused of destroying the divine law; for this he was condemned and
put to death. But his doctrine was cherished by his disciples, traversed
the centuries, and is transmitted to other peoples. Under these
conditions it is again hidden beneath heterogeneous dogmas, obscure
comments, and factitious explanations. Pitiable human sophisms replace
the divine revelation. For the formula, "And the Lord said unto Moses,"
we substitute "Thus saith the Holy Spirit." And again formalism hides
the truth. Most astounding of all, the doctrine of Jesus is amalgamated
with the written law, whose authority he was forced to deny. This
_Torah_, this written law, is declared to have been inspired by the Holy
Spirit, the spirit of truth; and thus Jesus is taken in the snare of his
own revelation--his doctrine is reduced to nothingness.

This is why, after eighteen hundred years, it so singularly happened
that I discovered the meaning of the doctrine of Jesus as some new
thing. But no; I did not discover it; I did simply what all must do who
seek after God and His law; I sought for the eternal law amid the
incongruous elements that men call by that name.




CHAPTER VI.


WHEN I understood the law of Jesus as the law of Jesus, and not as the
law of Jesus and of Moses, when I understood the commandment of this law
which absolutely abrogated the law of Moses, then the Gospels, before to
me so obscure, diffuse, and contradictory, blended into a harmonious
whole, the substance of whose doctrine, until then incomprehensible, I
found to be formulated in terms simple, clear, and accessible to every
searcher after truth.[4]

     [4] Matt. v. 21-48, especially 38

Throughout the Gospels we are called upon to consider the commandments
of Jesus and the necessity of practising them. All the theologians
discuss the commandments of Jesus; but what are these commandments? I
did not know before. I thought that the commandment of Jesus was to love
God, and one's neighbor as one's self. I did not see that this could not
be a new commandment of Jesus, since it was given by them of old in
Deuteronomy and Leviticus. The words:--

"_Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and
shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of
heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the same shall be called
great in the kingdom of heaven_," (Matt. v. 19.)--these words I believed
to relate to the Mosaic law. But it never had occurred to me that Jesus
had propounded, clearly and precisely, new laws. I did not see that in
the passage where Jesus declares, "_Ye have heard that it was said....
But I say unto you_," he formulated a series of very definite
commandments--five entirely new, counting as one the two references to
the ancient law against adultery. I had heard of the beatitudes of Jesus
and of their number; their explanation and enumeration had formed a part
of my religious instruction; but the commandments of Jesus--I had never
heard them spoken of. To my great astonishment, I now discovered them
for myself. In the fifth chapter of Matthew I found these verses:--

"_Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not
kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: But I
say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause
shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his
brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall
say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of the Gehenna of fire. Therefore if
thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother
hath aught against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go
thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy
gift. Agree with thine adversary quickly, while thou art in the way with
him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the
judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily
I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast
paid the uttermost farthing._" (Matt. v. 21-26.)

When I understood the commandment, "_Resist not evil_," it seemed to me
that these verses must have a meaning as clear and intelligible as has
the commandment just cited. The meaning I had formerly given to the
passage was, that every one ought to avoid angry feelings against
others, ought never to utter abusive language, and ought to live in
peace with all men, without exception. But there was in the text a
phrase which excluded this meaning, "Whosoever shall be angry with his
brother _without a cause_"--the words could not then be an exhortation
to absolute peace. I was greatly perplexed, and I turned to the
commentators, the theologians, for the removal of my doubts. To my
surprise I found that the commentators were chiefly occupied with the
endeavor to define under what conditions anger was permissible. All the
commentators of the Church dwelt upon the qualifying phrase "_without a
cause_," and explained the meaning to be that one must not be offended
without a reason, that one must not be abusive, but that anger is not
always unjust; and, to confirm their view, they quoted instances of
anger on the part of saints and apostles. I saw plainly that the
commentators who authorized anger "for the glory of God" as not
reprehensible, although entirely contrary to the spirit of the Gospel,
based their argument on the phrase "without a cause," in the
twenty-second verse. These words change entirely the meaning of the
passage.

Be not angry without cause? Jesus exhorts us to pardon every one, to
pardon without restriction or limit. He pardoned all who did him wrong,
and chided Peter for being angry with Malchus when the former sought to
defend his Master at the time of the betrayal, when, if at any time, it
would seem that anger might have been justifiable. And yet did this same
Jesus formally teach men not to be angry "without a cause," and thereby
sanction anger for a cause? Did Jesus enjoin peace upon all men, and
then, in the phrase "without a cause," interpolate the reservation that
this rule did not apply to all cases; that there were circumstances
under which one might be angry with a brother, and so give the
commentators the right to say that anger is sometimes expedient?

But who is to decide when anger is expedient and when it is not
expedient? I never yet encountered an angry person who did not believe
his wrath to be justifiable. Every one who is angry thinks anger
legitimate and serviceable. Evidently the qualifying phrase "without a
cause" destroys the entire force of the verse. And yet there were the
words in the sacred text, and I could not efface them. The effect was
the same as if the word "good" had been added to the phrase. "Love thy
neighbor"--love thy good neighbor, the neighbor that agrees with thee!

The entire signification of the passage was changed by this phrase,
"without a cause." Verses 23 and 24, which exhort us to be reconciled
with all men before appealing for divine aid, also lost their direct and
imperative meaning and acquired a conditional import through the
influence of the foregoing qualification. It had seemed to me, however,
that Jesus forbade all anger, all evil sentiment, and, that it might not
continue in our hearts, exhorted us before entering into communion with
God to ask ourselves if there were any person who might be angry with
us. If such were the case, whether this anger were with cause or without
cause, he commanded us to be reconciled. In this manner I had
interpreted the passage; but it now seemed, according to the
commentators, that the injunction must be taken as a conditional
affirmation. The commentators all explained that we ought to try to be
at peace with everybody; but, they added, if this is impossible, if,
actuated by evil instincts, any one is at enmity with you, try to be
reconciled with him in spirit, in idea, and then the enmity of others
will be no obstacle to divine communion.

Nor was this all. The words, "Whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca,
shall be in danger of the council," always seemed to me strange and
absurd. If we are forbidden to be abusive, why this example with its
ordinary and harmless epithet; why this terrible threat against those
that utter abuse so feeble as that implied in the word _raca_, which
means a good-for-nothing? All this was obscure to me.

I was convinced that I had before me a problem similar to that which had
confronted me in the words, "_Judge not_." I felt that here again the
simple, grand, precise, and practical meaning of Jesus had been hidden,
and that the commentators were groping in gloom. It seemed to me that
Jesus, in saying, "_be reconciled to thy brother_," could not have
meant, "be reconciled in idea,"--an explanation not at all clear,
supposing it were true. I understood what Jesus meant when, using the
words of the prophet, he said, "_I will have mercy, and not sacrifice_;"
that is, I will that men shall love one another. If you would have your
acts acceptable to God, then, before offering prayer, interrogate your
conscience; and if you find that any one is angry with you, go and make
your peace with him, and then pray as you desire. After this clear
interpretation, what was I to understand by the comment, "be reconciled
in idea"?

I saw that what seemed to me the only clear and direct meaning of the
verse was destroyed by the phrase, "without a cause." If I could
eliminate that, there would be no difficulty in the way of a lucid
interpretation. But all the commentators were united against any such
course; and the canonical text authorized the rendering to which I
objected. I could not drop these words arbitrarily, and yet, if they
were excluded, everything would become clear. I therefore sought for
some interpretation which would not conflict with the sense of the
entire passage.

I consulted the dictionary. In ordinary Greek, the word [Greek: eikê]
means "heedlessly, inconsiderately." I tried to find some term that
would not destroy the sense; but the words, "without a cause," plainly
had the meaning attributed to them. In New Testament Greek the
signification of [Greek: eikê] is exactly the same. I consulted the
concordances. The word occurs but once in the Gospels, namely, in this
passage. In the first epistle to the Corinthians, xv. 2, it occurs in
exactly the same sense. It is impossible to interpret it otherwise, and
if we accept it, we must conclude that Jesus uttered in vague words a
commandment easily so construed as to be of no effect. To admit this
seemed to me equivalent to rejecting the entire Gospel. There remained
one more resource--was the word to be found in all the manuscripts? I
consulted Griesbach, who records all recognized variants, and discovered
to my joy that the passage in question was not invariable, and that the
variation depended upon the word [Greek: eikê]. In most of the Gospel
texts and the citations of the Fathers, this word does not occur. I
consulted Tischendorf for the most ancient reading: the word [Greek:
eikê] did not appear.

This word, so destructive to the meaning of the doctrine of Jesus, is
then an interpolation which had not crept into the best copies of the
Gospel as late as the fifth century. Some copyist added the word; others
approved it and undertook its explanation. Jesus did not utter, could
not have uttered, this terrible word; and the primary meaning of the
passage, its simple, direct, impressive meaning, is the true
interpretation.

Now that I understood Jesus to forbid anger, whatever the cause, and
without distinction of persons, the warning against the use of the words
"raca" and "fool" had a purport quite distinct from any prohibition with
regard to the utterance of abusive epithets. The strange Hebrew word,
_raca_, which is not translated in the Greek text, serves to reveal the
meaning. _Raca_ means, literally, "vain, empty, that which does not
exist." It was much used by the Hebrews to express exclusion. It is
employed in the plural form in Judges ix. 4, in the sense, "empty and
vain." This word Jesus forbids us to apply to any one, as he forbids us
to use the word "fool," which, like "raca," relieves us of all the
obligations of humanity. We get angry, we do evil to men, and then to
excuse ourselves we say that the object of our anger is an empty person,
the refuse of a man, a fool. It is precisely such words as these that
Jesus forbids us to apply to men. He exhorts us not to be angry with any
one, and not to excuse our anger with the plea that we have to do with a
vain person, a person bereft of reason.

And so in place of insignificant, vague, and uncertain phrases subject
to arbitrary interpretation, I found in Matthew v. 21-26 the first
commandment of Jesus: Live in peace with all men. Do not regard anger as
justifiable under any circumstances. Never look upon a human being as
worthless or as a fool. Not only refrain from anger yourself, but do
not regard the anger of others toward you as vain. If any one is angry
with you, even without reason, be reconciled to him, that all hostile
feelings may be effaced. Agree quickly with those that have a grievance
against you, lest animosity prevail to your loss.

The first commandment of Jesus being thus freed from obscurity, I was
able to understand the second, which also begins with a reference to the
ancient law:--

"_Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not
commit adultery: But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman
to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.
And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee:
for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and
not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy right hand
offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for
thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body
should be cast into hell. It hath been said,[5] Whosoever shall put away
his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit
adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth
adultery._ (Matt. v. 27-32.)

     [5] Deut. xxiv. 1.

By these words I understood that a man ought not, even in imagination,
to admit that he could approach any woman save her to whom he had once
been united, and her he might never abandon to take another, although
permitted to do so by the Mosaic law.

In the first commandment, Jesus counselled us to extinguish the germ of
anger, and illustrated his meaning by the fate of the man who is
delivered to the judges; in the second commandment, Jesus declares that
debauchery arises from the disposition of men and women to regard one
another as instruments of voluptuousness, and, this being so, we ought
to guard against every idea that excites to sensual desire, and, once
united to a woman, never to abandon her on any pretext, for women thus
abandoned are sought by other men, and so debauchery is introduced into
the world.

The wisdom of this commandment impressed me profoundly. It would
suppress all the evils in the world that result from the sexual
relations. Convinced that license in the sexual relations leads to
contention, men, in obedience to this injunction, would avoid every
cause for voluptuousness, and, knowing that the law of humanity is to
live in couples, would so unite themselves, and never destroy the bond
of union. All the evils arising from dissensions caused by sexual
attraction would be suppressed, since there would be neither men nor
women deprived of the sexual relation.

But I was much more impressed, as I read the Sermon on the Mount, with
the words, "Saving for the cause of fornication," which permitted a man
to repudiate his wife in case of infidelity. The very form in which the
idea was expressed seemed to me unworthy of the dignity of the
occasion, for here, side by side with the profound truths of the Sermon
on the Mount, occurred, like a note in a criminal code, this strange
exception to the general rule; but I shall not dwell upon the question
of form; I shall speak only of the exception itself, so entirely in
contradiction with the fundamental idea.

I consulted the commentators; all, Chrysostom and the others, even
authorities on exegesis like Reuss, all recognized the meaning of the
words to be that Jesus permitted divorce in case of infidelity on the
part of the woman, and that, in the exhortation against divorce in the
nineteenth chapter of Matthew, the same words had the same
signification. I read the thirty-second verse of the fifth chapter again
and again, and reason refused to accept the interpretation. To verify my
doubts I consulted the other portions of the New Testament texts, and I
found in Matthew (xix.), Mark (x.), Luke (xvi.), and in the first
epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, affirmation of the doctrine of the
indissolubility of marriage. In Luke (xvi. 18) it is said:--

"_Whosoever putteth away his wife, and marrieth another, committeth
adultery: and whosoever marrieth her that is put away from her husband
committeth adultery._"

In Mark (x. 5-12) the doctrine is also proclaimed without any exception
whatever:--

"_For the hardness of your heart he_ [Moses] _wrote you this precept.
But from the beginning of the creation God made them male and female.
For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to
his wife; And they twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more
twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not
man put asunder. And in the house his disciples asked him again of the
same matter. And he said unto them, Whosoever shall put away his wife,
and marry another, committeth adultery against her. And if a woman shall
put away her husband, and be married to another, she committeth
adultery._"

The same idea is expressed in Matt. xix. 4-9. Paul, in the first epistle
to the Corinthians (vii. 1-11), develops systematically the idea that
the only way of preventing debauchery is that every man have his own
wife, and every woman have her own husband, and that they mutually
satisfy the sexual instinct; then he says, without equivocation, "_Let
not the wife depart from her husband: But and if she depart, let her
remain unmarried, or be reconciled to her husband: and let not the
husband put away his wife_."

According to Mark, and Luke, and Paul, divorce is forbidden. It is
forbidden by the assertion repeated in two of the Gospels, that husband
and wife are one flesh whom God hath joined together. It is forbidden by
the doctrine of Jesus, who exhorts us to pardon every one, without
excepting the adulterous woman. It is forbidden by the general sense of
the whole passage, which explains that divorce is provocative of
debauchery, and for this reason that divorce with an adulterous woman is
prohibited.

Upon what, then, is based the opinion that divorce is permissible in
case of infidelity on the part of the woman? Upon the words which had so
impressed me in Matt. v. 32; the words every one takes to mean that
Jesus permits divorce in case of adultery by the woman; the words,
repeated in Matt. xix. 9, in a number of copies of the Gospel text, and
by many Fathers of the Church,--the words, "unless for the cause of
adultery." I studied these words carefully anew. For a long time I could
not understand them. It seemed to me that there must be a defect in the
translation, and an erroneous exegesis; but where was the source of the
error? I could not find it; and yet the error itself was very plain.

In opposition to the Mosaic law, which declares that if a man take an
aversion to his wife he may write her a bill of divorcement and send her
out of his house--in opposition to this law Jesus is made to declare,
"_But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for
the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery_." I saw
nothing in these words to allow us to affirm that divorce was either
permitted or forbidden. It is said that whoever shall put away his wife
causes her to commit adultery, and then an exception is made with regard
to a woman guilty of adultery. This exception, which throws the guilt of
marital infidelity entirely upon the _woman_ is, in general, strange and
unexpected; but here, in relation to the context, it is simply absurd,
for even the very doubtful meaning which might otherwise be attributed
to it is wholly destroyed. Whoever puts away his wife exposes her to the
crime of adultery, and yet a man is permitted to put away a wife guilty
of adultery, as if a woman guilty of adultery would no more commit
adultery after she were put away.

But this is not all; when I had examined this passage attentively, I
found it also to be lacking in grammatical meaning. The words are,
"Whoever shall put away his wife, except for the fault of adultery,
exposes her to the commission of adultery,"--and the proposition is
complete. It is a question of the husband, of him who in putting away
his wife exposes her to the commission of the crime of adultery; what,
then, is the purport of the qualifying phrase, "except for the fault of
adultery"? If the proposition were in this form: Whoever shall put away
his wife is guilty of adultery, unless the wife herself has been
unfaithful--it would be grammatically correct. But as the passage now
stands, the subject "whoever" has no other predicate than the word
"exposes," with which the phrase "except for the fault of adultery"
cannot be connected. What, then, is the purport of this phrase? It is
plain that whether for or without the fault of adultery on the part of
the woman, the husband who puts away his wife exposes her to the
commission of adultery.

The proposition is analogous to the following sentence: Whoever refuses
food to his son, besides the fault of spitefulness, exposes him to the
possibility of being cruel. This sentence evidently cannot mean that a
father may refuse food to his son if the latter is spiteful. It can only
mean that a father who refuses food to his son, besides being spiteful
towards his son, exposes his son to the possibility of becoming cruel.
And in the same way, the Gospel proposition would have a meaning if we
could replace the words, "the fault of adultery," by libertinism,
debauchery, or some similar phrase, expressing not an act but a quality.

And so I asked myself if the meaning here was not simply that whoever
puts away his wife, besides being himself guilty of libertinism (since
no one puts away his wife except to take another), exposes his wife to
the commission of adultery? If, in the original text, the word
translated "adultery" or "fornication" had the meaning of libertinism,
the meaning of the passage would be clear. And then I met with the same
experience that had happened to me before in similar instances. The text
confirmed my suppositions and entirely effaced my doubts.

The first thing that occurred to me in reading the text was that the
word [Greek: porneia], translated in common with [Greek: moichasthai],
"adultery" or "fornication," is an entirely different word from the
latter. But perhaps these two words are used as synonyms in the Gospels?
I consulted the dictionary, and found that the word [Greek: porneia],
corresponding in Hebrew to _zanah_, in Latin to _fornicatio_, in German
to _hurerei_, in French to _libertinage_, has a very precise meaning,
and that it never has signified, and never can signify, the act of
adultery, _ehebruch_, as Luther and the Germans after him have rendered
the word. It signifies a state of depravity,--a quality, and not an
act,--and never can be properly translated by "adultery" or
"fornication." I found, moreover, that "adultery" is expressed
throughout the Gospel, as well as in the passage under consideration, by
the word [Greek: moicheuô]. I had only to correct the false translation,
which had evidently been made intentionally, to render absolutely
inadmissible the meaning attributed by commentators to the text, and to
show the proper grammatical relation of [Greek: porneia] to the subject
of the sentence.

A person acquainted with Greek would construe as follows: [Greek:
parektos], "except, outside," [Greek: logou], "the matter, the cause,"
[Greek: porneias], "of libertinism," [Greek: poiei], "obliges," [Greek:
autên], "her," [Greek: moichasthai], "to be an adulteress"--which
rendering gives, word for word, Whoever puts away his wife, besides the
fault of libertinism, obliges her to be an adulteress.

We obtain the same meaning from Matt. xix. 9. When we correct the
unauthorized translation of [Greek: porneia], by substituting
"libertinism" for "fornication," we see at once that the phrase [Greek:
ei mê epi porneia] cannot apply to "wife." And as the words [Greek:
parektos logou porneias] could signify nothing else than the fault of
libertinism on the part of the husband, so the words [Greek: ei mê epi
porneia], in the nineteenth chapter, can have no other than the same
meaning. The phrase [Greek: ei mê epi porneia] is, word for word, "if
this is not through libertinism" (to give one's self up to
libertinism). The meaning then becomes clear. Jesus replies to the
theory of the Pharisees, that a man who abandons his wife to marry
another without the intention of giving himself up to libertinism does
not commit adultery--Jesus replies to this theory that the abandonment
of a wife, that is, the cessation of sexual relations, even if not for
the purpose of libertinism, but to marry another, is none the less
adultery. Thus we come at the simple meaning of this commandment--a
meaning which accords with the whole doctrine, with the words of which
it is the complement, with grammar, and with logic. This simple and
clear interpretation, harmonizing so naturally with the doctrine and the
words from which it was derived, I discovered after the most careful and
prolonged research. Upon a premeditated alteration of the text had been
based an exegesis which destroyed the moral, religious, logical, and
grammatical meaning of Jesus' words.

And thus once more I found a confirmation of the terrible fact that the
meaning of the doctrine of Jesus is simple and clear, that its
affirmations are emphatic and precise, but that commentaries upon the
doctrine, inspired by a desire to sanction existing evil, have so
obscured it that determined effort is demanded of him who would know the
truth. If the Gospels had come down to us in a fragmentary condition, it
would have been easier (so it seemed to me) to restore the true meaning
of the text than to find that meaning now, beneath the accumulations of
fallacious comments which have apparently no purpose save to conceal the
doctrine they are supposed to expound. With regard to the passage under
consideration, it is plain that to justify the divorce of some Byzantine
emperor this ingenious pretext was employed to obscure the doctrine
regulating the relations between the sexes. When we have rejected the
suggestions of the commentators, we escape from the mist of uncertainty,
and the second commandment of Jesus becomes precise and clear. "Guard
against libertinism. Let every man justified in entering into the sexual
relation have one wife, and every wife one husband, and under no pretext
whatever let this union be violated by either."

       *       *       *       *       *

Immediately after the second commandment is another reference to the
ancient law, followed by the third commandment:--

"_Again, ye have heard that it hath been said[6] by them of old time,
Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine
oaths: But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it
is God's throne: Nor by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by
Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great king. Neither shalt thou
swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black.
But let your communications be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is
more than these cometh of evil._" (Matt. v. 33-37.)

     [6] Levit. xix. 12; Deut. xxiii. 21, 34.

This passage always troubled me when I read it. It did not trouble me by
its obscurity, like the passage about divorce; or by conflicting with
other passages, like the authorization of anger for cause; or by the
difficulty in the way of obedience, as in the case of the command to
turn the other cheek;--it troubled me rather by its very clearness,
simplicity, and practicality. Side by side with rules whose magnitude
and importance I felt profoundly, was this saying, which seemed to me
superfluous, frivolous, weak, and without consequence to me or to
others. I naturally did not swear, either by Jerusalem, or by heaven, or
by anything else, and it cost me not the least effort to refrain from
doing so; on the other hand, it seemed to me that whether I swore or did
not swear could not be of the slightest importance to any one. And
desiring to find an explanation of this rule, which troubled me through
its very simplicity, I consulted the commentators. They were in this
case of great assistance to me.

The commentators all found in these words a confirmation of the third
commandment of Moses,--not to swear by the name of the Lord; but, in
addition to this, they explained that this commandment of Jesus against
an oath was not always obligatory, and had no reference whatever to the
oath which citizens are obliged to take before the authorities. And they
brought together Scripture citations, not to support the direct meaning
of Jesus' commandment, but to prove when it ought and ought not to be
obeyed. They claimed that Jesus had himself sanctioned the oath in
courts of justice by his reply, "_Thou hast said_," to the words of the
High Priest, "_I adjure thee by the living God_;" that the apostle Paul
invoked God to witness the truth of his words, which invocation was
evidently equivalent to an oath; that the law of Moses proscribing the
oath was not abrogated by Jesus; and that Jesus forbade only false
oaths, the oaths of Pharisees and hypocrites. When I had read these
comments, I understood that unless I excepted from the oaths forbidden
by Jesus the oath of fidelity to the State, the commandment was as
insignificant as superficial, and as easy to practise as I had supposed.

And I asked myself the question, Does this passage contain an
exhortation to abstain from an oath that the commentators of the Church
are so zealous to justify? Does it not forbid us to take the oath
indispensable to the assembling of men into political groups and the
formation of a military caste? The soldier, that special instrument of
violence, goes in Russia by the nickname of _prissaiaga_ (sworn in). If
I had asked the soldier at the Borovitzky Gate how he solved the
contradiction between the Gospels and military regulations, he would
have replied that he had taken the oath, that is, that he had sworn by
the Gospels. This is the reply that soldiers always make. The oath is so
indispensable to the horrors of war and armed coercion that in France,
where Christianity is out of favor, the oath remains in full force. If
Jesus did not say in so many words, "Do not take an oath," the
prohibition ought to be a consequence of his teaching. He came to
suppress evil, and, if he did not condemn the oath, he left a terrible
evil untouched. It may be said, perhaps, that at the time at which Jesus
lived this evil passed unperceived; but this is not true. Epictetus and
Seneca declare against the taking of oaths. A similar rule is inscribed
in the laws of Mani. The Jews of the time of Jesus made proselytes, and
obliged them to take the oath. How could it be said that Jesus did not
perceive this evil when he forbade it in clear, direct, and
circumstantial terms? He said, "_Swear not at all_." This expression is
as simple, clear, and absolute as the expression, "_Judge not, condemn
not_," and is as little subject to explanation; moreover, he added to
this, "_Let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is
more than these cometh of evil_."

If obedience to the doctrine of Jesus consists in perpetual observance
of the will of God, how can a man swear to observe the will of another
man or other men? The will of God cannot coincide with the will of man.
And this is precisely what Jesus said in Matt. v. 36:--

"_Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one
hair white or black._"

And the apostle James says in his epistle, v. 12:--

"_But above all things, my brethren, swear not, neither by heaven,
neither by earth, neither by any other oath: but let your yea be yea;
and your nay, nay; lest ye fall into condemnation._"

The apostle tells us clearly why we must not swear: the oath in itself
may be unimportant, but by it men are condemned, and so we ought not to
swear at all. How could we express more clearly the saying of Jesus and
his apostle?

My ideas had become so confused that for a long time I had kept before
me the question, Do the words and the meaning of this passage agree?--it
does not seem possible. But, after having read the commentaries
attentively, I saw that the impossible had become a fact. The
explanations of the commentators were in harmony with those they had
offered concerning the other commandments of Jesus: judge not, be not
angry, do not violate the marital bonds.

We have organized a social order which we cherish and look upon as
sacred. Jesus, whom we recognize as God, comes and tells us that our
social organization is wrong. We recognize him as God, but we are not
willing to renounce our social institutions. What, then, are we to do?
Add, if we can, the words "without a cause" to render void the command
against anger; mutilate the sense of another law, as audacious
prevaricators have done by substituting for the command absolutely
forbidding divorce, phraseology which permits divorce; and if there is
no possible way of deriving an equivocal meaning, as in the case of the
commands, "_Judge not, condemn not_," and "_Swear not at all_," then
with the utmost effrontery openly violate the rule while affirming that
we obey it.

In fact, the principal obstacle to a comprehension of the truth that the
Gospel forbids all manner of oaths exists in the fact that our
pseudo-Christian commentators themselves, with unexampled audacity, take
oath upon the Gospel itself. They make men swear by the Gospel, that is
to say, they do just the contrary of what the Gospel commands. Why does
it never occur to the man who is made to take an oath upon the cross and
the Gospel that the cross was made sacred only by the death of one who
forbade all oaths, and that in kissing the sacred book he perhaps is
pressing his lips upon the very page where is recorded the clear and
direct commandment, "_Swear not at all_"?

But I was troubled no more with regard to the meaning of the passage
comprised in Matt. v. 33-37 when I found the plain declaration of the
third commandment, that we should take no oath, since all oaths are
imposed for an evil purpose.

       *       *       *       *       *

After the third commandment comes the fourth reference to the ancient
law and the enunciation of the fourth commandment:--

"_Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth
for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if
any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have
thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with
him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow
of thee turn not thou away._" (Matt. V. 38-42.)

I have already spoken of the direct and precise meaning of these words;
I have already said that we have no reason whatever for basing upon them
an allegorical explanation. The comments that have been made upon them,
from the time of Chrysostom to our day, are really surprising. The words
are pleasing to every one, and they inspire all manner of profound
reflections save one,--that these words express exactly what Jesus meant
to say. The Church commentators, not at all awed by the authority of one
whom they recognize as God, boldly distort the meaning of his words.
They tell us, of course, that these commandments to bear offences and to
refrain from reprisals are directed against the vindictive character of
the Jews; they not only do not exclude all general measures for the
repression of evil and the punishment of evil-doers, but they exhort
every one to individual and personal effort to sustain justice, to
apprehend aggressors, and to prevent the wicked from inflicting evil
upon others,--for, otherwise (they tell us) these spiritual commandments
of the Saviour would become, as they became among the Jews, a dead
letter, and would serve only to propagate evil and to suppress virtue.
The love of the Christian should be patterned after the love of God; but
divine love circumscribes and reproves evil only as may be required for
the glory of God and the safety of his servants. If evil is propagated,
we must set bounds to evil and punish it,--now this is the duty of
authorities.[7]

     [7] This citation is taken from the _Commentaries on the Gospel_,
     by the Archbishop Michael, a work based upon the writings of the
     Fathers of the Church.

Christian scholars and free-thinkers are not embarrassed by the meaning
of these words of Jesus, and do not hesitate to correct them. The
sentiments here expressed, they tell us, are very noble, but are
completely inapplicable to life; for if we practised to the letter the
commandment, "_Resist not evil_," our entire social fabric would be
destroyed. This is what Renan, Strauss, and all the liberal commentators
tell us. If, however, we take the words of Jesus as we would take the
words of any one who speaks to us, and admit that he says exactly what
he does say, all these profound circumlocutions vanish away. Jesus says,
"Your social system is absurd and wrong. I propose to you another." And
then he utters the teachings reported by Matthew (v. 38-42). It would
seem that before correcting them one ought to understand them; now this
is exactly what no one wishes to do. We decide in advance that the
social order which controls our existence, and which is abolished by
these words, is the superior law of humanity.

For my part, I consider our social order to be neither wise nor sacred;
and that is why I have understood this commandment when others have not.
And when I had understood these words just as they are written, I was
struck with their truth, their lucidity, and their precision. Jesus
said, "You wish to suppress evil by evil; this is not reasonable. To
abolish evil, avoid the commission of evil." And then he enumerates
instances where we are in the habit of returning evil for evil, and says
that in these cases we ought not so to do.

This fourth commandment was the one that I first understood; and it
revealed to me the meaning of all the others. This simple, clear, and
practical fourth commandment says: "Never resist evil by force, never
return violence for violence: if any one beat you, bear it; if one would
deprive you of anything, yield to his wishes; if any one would force you
to labor, labor; if any one would take away your property, abandon it at
his demand."

       *       *       *       *       *

After the fourth commandment we find a fifth reference to the ancient
law, followed by the fifth commandment:--

"_Ye have heard that it hath been said,[8] Thou shall love thy neighbor
and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them
that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which
despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of
your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the
evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.
For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the
publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more
than others? do not even the publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even
as your Father which is in heaven is perfect._" (Matt. v. 43-48.)

     [8] See Levit. xix. 17, 18.

These verses I had formerly regarded as a continuation, an exposition,
an enforcement, I might almost say an exaggeration, of the words,
"_Resist not evil_." But as I had found a simple, precise, and practical
meaning in each of the passages beginning with a reference to the
ancient law, I anticipated a similar experience here. After each
reference of this sort had thus far come a commandment, and each
commandment had been important and distinct in meaning; it ought to be
so now. The closing words of the passage, repeated by Luke, which are to
the effect that God makes no distinction of persons, but lavishes his
gifts upon all, and that we, following his precepts, ought to regard all
men as equally worthy, and to do good to all,--these words were clear;
they seemed to me to be a confirmation and exposition of some definite
law--but what was this law? For a long time I could not understand it.

To love one's enemies?--this was impossible. It was one of those sublime
thoughts that we must look upon only as an indication of a moral ideal
impossible of attainment. It demanded all or nothing. We might, perhaps,
refrain from doing injury to our enemies--but to love them!--no; Jesus
did not command the impossible. And besides, in the words referring to
the ancient law, "_Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt ...
hate thine enemy_," there was cause for doubt. In other references
Jesus cited textually the terms of the Mosaic law; but here he
apparently cites words that have no such authority; he seems to
calumniate the law of Moses.

As with regard to my former doubts, so now the commentators gave me no
explanation of the difficulty. They all agreed that the words "_hate
thine enemy_" were not in the Mosaic law, but they offered no suggestion
as to the meaning of the unauthorized phrase. They spoke of the
difficulty of loving one's enemies, that is, wicked men (thus they
emended Jesus' words); and they said that while it is impossible to love
our enemies, we may refrain from wishing them harm and from inflicting
injury upon them. Moreover, they insinuated that we might and should
"convince" our enemies, that is, resist them; they spoke of the
different degrees of love for our enemies which we might attain--from
all of which the final conclusion was that Jesus, for some inexplicable
reason, quoted as from the law of Moses words not to be found therein,
and then uttered a number of sublime phrases which at bottom are
impracticable and empty of meaning.

I could not agree with this conclusion. In this passage, as in the
passages containing the first four commandments, there must be some
clear and precise meaning. To find this meaning, I set myself first of
all to discover the purport of the words containing the inexact
reference to the ancient law, "_Ye have heard that it hath been said,
Thou shalt... hate thine enemy_." Jesus had some reason for placing at
the head of each of his commandments certain portions of the ancient law
to serve as the antitheses of his own doctrine. If we do not understand
what is meant by the citations from the ancient law, we cannot
understand what Jesus proscribed. The commentators say frankly (it is
impossible not to say so) that Jesus in this instance made use of words
not to be found in the Mosaic law, but they do not tell us why he did so
or what meaning we are to attach to the words thus used.

It seemed to me above all necessary to know what Jesus had in view when
he cited these words which are not to be found in the law. I asked
myself what these words could mean. In all other references of the sort,
Jesus quotes a single rule from the ancient law: "Thou shalt not
kill"--"Thou shalt not commit adultery"--"Thou shalt not forswear
thyself"--"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth"--and with regard to
each rule he propounds his own doctrine. In the instance under
consideration, he cites two contrasting rules: "_Ye have heard that it
hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine
enemy_,"--from which it would appear that the contrast between these two
rules of the ancient law, relative to one's neighbor and one's enemy,
should be the basis of the new law. To understand clearly what this
contrast was, I sought for the meanings of the words "neighbor" and
"enemy," as used in the Gospel text. After consulting dictionaries and
Biblical texts, I was convinced that "neighbor" in the Hebrew language
meant, invariably and exclusively, a Hebrew. We find the same meaning
expressed in the Gospel parable of the Samaritan. From the inquiry of
the Jewish scribe (Luke x. 29), "_And who is my neighbor?_" it is plain
that he did not regard the Samaritan as such. The word "neighbor" is
used with the same meaning in Acts vii. 27. "Neighbor," in Gospel
language, means a compatriot, a person belonging to the same
nationality. And so the antithesis used by Jesus in the citation, "_love
thy neighbor, hate thine enemy_," must be in the distinction between the
words "compatriot" and "foreigner." I then sought for the Jewish
understanding of "enemy," and I found my supposition confirmed. The word
"enemy" is nearly always employed in the Gospels in the sense, not of a
personal enemy, but, in general, of a "hostile people" (Luke i. 71, 74;
Matt. xxii. 44; Mark xii. 36; Luke xx. 43, etc.). The use of the word
"enemy" in the singular form, in the phrase "_hate thine enemy_,"
convinced me that the meaning is a "hostile people." In the Old
Testament, the conception "hostile people" is nearly always expressed in
the singular form.

When I understood this, I understood why Jesus, who had before quoted
the authentic words of the law, had here cited the words "_hate thine
enemy_." When we understand the word "enemy" in the sense of "hostile
people," and "neighbor" in the sense of "compatriot," the difficulty is
completely solved. Jesus spoke of the manner in which Moses directed
the Hebrews to act toward "hostile peoples." The various passages
scattered through the different books of the Old Testament, prescribing
the oppression, slaughter, and extermination of other peoples, Jesus
summed up in one word, "hate,"--make war upon the enemy. He said, in
substance: "You have heard that you must love those of your own race,
and hate foreigners; but I say unto you, love every one without
distinction of nationality." When I had understood these words in this
way, I saw immediately the force of the phrase, "_Love your enemies_."
It is impossible to love one's personal enemies; but it is perfectly
possible to love the citizens of a foreign nation equally with one's
compatriots. And I saw clearly that in saying, "_Ye have heard that it
hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But
I say unto you, Love your enemies_," Jesus meant to say that men are in
the habit of looking upon compatriots as neighbors, and foreigners as
enemies; and this he reproved. His meaning was that the law of Moses
established a difference between the Hebrew and the foreigner--the
hostile peoples; but he forbade any such difference. And then, according
to Matthew and Luke, after giving this commandment, he said that with
God all men are equal, all are warmed by the same sun, all profit by the
same rain. God makes no distinction among peoples, and lavishes his
gifts upon all men; men ought to act exactly in the same way toward one
another, without distinction of nationality, and not like the heathen,
who divide themselves into distinct nationalities.

Thus once more I found confirmed on all sides the simple, clear,
important, and practical meaning of the words of Jesus. Once more, in
place of an obscure sentence, I had found a clear, precise, important,
and practical rule: To make no distinction between compatriots and
foreigners, and to abstain from all the results of such
distinction,--from hostility towards foreigners, from wars, from all
participation in war, from all preparations for war; to establish with
all men, of whatever nationality, the same relations granted to
compatriots. All this was so simple and so clear, that I was astonished
that I had not perceived it from the first.

The cause of my error was the same as that which had perplexed me with
regard to the passages relating to judgments and the taking of oaths. It
is very difficult to believe that tribunals upheld by professed
Christians, blest by those who consider themselves the guardians of the
law of Jesus, could be incompatible with the Christian religion; could
be, in fact, diametrically opposed to it. It is still more difficult to
believe that the oath which we are obliged to take by the guardians of
the law of Jesus, is directly reproved by this law. To admit that
everything in life that is considered essential and natural, as well as
what is considered the most noble and grand,--love of country, its
defence, its glory, battle with its enemies,--to admit that all this is
not only an infraction of the law of Jesus, but is directly denounced by
Jesus,--this, I say, is difficult.

Our existence is now so entirely in contradiction with the doctrine of
Jesus, that only with the greatest difficulty can we understand its
meaning. We have been so deaf to the rules of life that he has given us,
to his explanations,--not only when he commands us not to kill, but when
he warns us against anger, when he commands us not to resist evil, to
turn the other cheek, to love our enemies; we are so accustomed to speak
of a body of men especially organized for murder, as a Christian army,
we are so accustomed to prayers addressed to the Christ for the
assurance of victory, we who have made the sword, that symbol of murder,
an almost sacred object (so that a man deprived of this symbol, of his
sword, is a dishonored man); we are so accustomed, I say, to this, that
the words of Jesus seem to us compatible with war. We say, "If he had
forbidden it, he would have said so plainly." We forget that Jesus did
not foresee that men having faith in his doctrine of humility, love, and
fraternity, could ever, with calmness and premeditation, organize
themselves for the murder of their brethren.

Jesus did not foresee this, and so he did not forbid a Christian to
participate in war. A father who exhorts his son to live honestly, never
to wrong any person, and to give all that he has to others, would not
forbid his son to kill people upon the highway. None of the apostles, no
disciple of Jesus during the first centuries of Christianity, realized
the necessity of forbidding a Christian that form of murder which we
call war.

Here, for example, is what Origen says in his reply to Celsus:[9]--

     [9] _Contra Celsum_, book VIII. chap. LXXIII.

"In the next place, Celsus urges us 'to help the king with all our
might, and to labor with him in the maintenance of justice, to fight for
him; and, if he requires it, to fight under him, or lead an army along
with him.' To this, our answer is that we do, when occasion requires,
give help to kings, and that, so to say, a divine help, 'putting on the
whole armour of God.' And this we do in obedience to the injunction of
the apostle, 'I exhort, therefore, that first of all, supplications,
prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men, for
kings, and for all that are in authority'; and the more any one excels
in piety, the more effective help does he render to kings, even more
than is given by soldiers, who go forth to fight and slay as many of the
enemy as they can. And to those enemies of our faith who require us to
bear arms for the commonwealth, and to slay men, we can reply: 'Do not
those who are priests at certain shrines, and those who attend on
certain gods, as you account them, keep their hands free from blood,
that they may with hands unstained and free from human blood, offer the
appointed sacrifices to your gods? and even when war is upon you, you
never enlist the priests in the army. If that, then, is a laudable
custom, how much more so, that while others are engaged in battle, these
too should engage as the priests and ministers of God, keeping their
hands pure, and wrestling in prayers to God on behalf of those who are
fighting in a righteous cause, and for the king who reigns righteously,
that whatever is opposed to those who act righteously may be
destroyed!'"

And at the close of the chapter, in explaining that Christians, through
their peaceful lives, are much more helpful to kings than soldiers are,
Origen says:--

"And none fight better for the king than we do. We do not, indeed, fight
under him, although he require it; but we fight on his behalf, forming a
special army,--an army of piety,--by offering our prayers to God."

This is the way in which the Christians of the first centuries regarded
war, and such was the language that their leaders addressed to the
rulers of the earth at a period when martyrs perished by hundreds and by
thousands for having confessed the religion of Jesus, the Christ.

And now is not the question settled as to whether a Christian may or may
not go to war? All young men brought up according to the doctrine of the
Church called Christian, are obliged at a specified date during every
autumn, to report at the bureaus of conscription and, under the guidance
of their spiritual directors, deliberately to renounce the religion of
Jesus. Not long ago, there was a peasant who refused military service
on the plea that it was contrary to the Gospel. The doctors of the
Church explained to the peasant his error; but, as the peasant had
faith, not in their words, but in those of Jesus, he was thrown into
prison, where he remained until he was ready to renounce the law of
Christ. And all this happened after Christians had heard for eighteen
hundred years the clear, precise, and practical commandment of their
Master, which teaches not to consider men of different nationality as
enemies, but to consider all men as brethren, and to maintain with them
the same relations existing among compatriots; to refrain not only from
killing those who are called enemies, but to love them and to minister
to their needs.

When I had understood these simple and precise commandments of Jesus,
these commandments so ill adapted to the ingenious distortions of
commentators,--I asked myself what would be the result if the whole
Christian world believed in them, believed not only in reading and
chanting them for the glory of God, but also in obeying them for the
good of humanity? What would be the result if men believed in the
observance of these commandments at least as seriously as they believe
in daily devotions, in attendance on Sunday worship, in weekly fasts, in
the holy sacrament? What would be the result if the faith of men in
these commandments were as strong as their faith in the requirements of
the Church? And then I saw in imagination a Christian society living
according to these commandments and educating the younger generation to
follow their precepts. I tried to picture the results if we taught our
children from infancy, not what we teach them now--to maintain personal
dignity, to uphold personal privileges against the encroachments of
others (which we can never do without humiliating or offending
others)--but to teach them that no man has a right to privileges, and
can neither be above or below any one else; that he alone debases and
demeans himself who tries to domineer over others; that a man can be in
a no more contemptible condition than when he is angry with another;
that what may seem to be foolish and despicable in another is no excuse
for wrath or enmity. I sought to imagine the results if, instead of
extolling our social organization as it now is, with its theatres, its
romances, its sumptuous methods for stimulating sensuous desires--if,
instead of this, we taught our children by precept and by example, that
the reading of lascivious romances and attendance at theatres and balls
are the most vulgar of all distractions, and that there is nothing more
grotesque and humiliating than to pass one's time in the collection and
arrangement of personal finery to make of one's body an object of show.
I endeavored to imagine a state of society where, instead of permitting
and approving libertinism in young men before marriage, instead of
regarding the separation of husband and wife as natural and desirable,
instead of giving to women the legal right to practise the trade of
prostitution, instead of countenancing and sanctioning divorce--if,
instead of this, we taught by words and actions that the state of
celibacy, the solitary existence of a man properly endowed for, and who
has not renounced the sexual relation, is a monstrous and opprobrious
wrong; and that the abandonment of wife by husband or of husband by wife
for the sake of another, is an act against nature, an act bestial and
inhuman.

Instead of regarding it as natural that our entire existence should be
controlled by coercion; that every one of our amusements should be
provided and maintained by force; that each of us from childhood to old
age should be by turns victim and executioner--instead of this I tried
to picture the results if, by precept and example, we endeavored to
inspire the world with the conviction that vengeance is a sentiment
unworthy of humanity; that violence is not only debasing, but that it
deprives us of all capacity for happiness; that the true pleasures of
life are not those maintained by force; and that our greatest
consideration ought to be bestowed, not upon those who accumulate riches
to the injury of others, but upon those who best serve others and give
what they have to lessen the woes of their kind. If instead of regarding
the taking of an oath and the placing of ourselves and our lives at the
disposition of another as a rightful and praiseworthy act,--I tried to
imagine what would be the result if we taught that the enlightened will
of man is alone sacred; and that if a man place himself at the
disposition of any one, and promise by oath anything whatever, he
renounces his rational manhood and outrages his most sacred right. I
tried to imagine the results, if, instead of the national hatred with
which we are inspired under the name of "patriotism"; if, in place of
the glory associated with that form of murder which we call war,--if, in
place of this, we were taught, on the contrary, horror and contempt for
all the means--military, diplomatic, and political--which serve to
divide men; if we were educated to look upon the division of men into
political States, and a diversity of codes and frontiers, as an
indication of barbarism; and that to massacre others is a most horrible
forfeit, which can only be exacted of a depraved and misguided man, who
has fallen to the lowest level of the brute. I imagined that all men had
arrived at these convictions, and I considered what I thought would be
the result.

Up to this time (I said), what have been the practical results of the
doctrine of Jesus as I understand it? and the involuntary reply was,
Nothing. We continue to pray, to partake of the sacraments, to believe
in the redemption, and in our personal salvation as well as that of the
world by Jesus the Christ,--and yet that this salvation will never come
by our efforts, but will come because the period set for the end of the
world will have arrived when the Christ will appear in his glory to
judge the quick and the dead, and the kingdom of heaven will be
established.

Now the doctrine of Jesus, as I understood it, had an entirely different
meaning. The establishment of the kingdom of God depended upon our
personal efforts in the practice of Jesus' doctrine as propounded in the
five commandments, which instituted the kingdom of God upon earth. The
kingdom of God upon earth consists in this, that all men should be at
peace with one another. It was thus that the Hebrew prophets conceived
of the rule of God. Peace among men is the greatest blessing that can
exist upon this earth, and it is within reach of all men. This ideal is
in every human heart. The prophets all brought to men the promise of
peace. The whole doctrine of Jesus has but one object, to establish
peace--the kingdom of God--among men.

In the Sermon on the Mount, in the interview with Nicodemus, in the
instructions given to his disciples, in all his teachings, Jesus spoke
only of this, of the things that divided men, that kept them from peace,
that prevented them from entering into the kingdom of heaven. The
parables make clear to us what the kingdom of heaven is, and show us the
only way of entering therein, which is to love our brethren, and to be
at peace with all. John the Baptist, the forerunner of Jesus, proclaimed
the approach of the kingdom of God, and declared that Jesus was to bring
it upon earth. Jesus himself said that his mission was to bring peace:--

"_Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world
giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it
be afraid_" (John xiv. 27).

And the observance of his five commandments will bring peace upon the
earth. They all have but one object,--the establishment of peace among
men. If men will only believe in the doctrine of Jesus and practise it,
the reign of peace will come upon earth,--not that peace which is the
work of man, partial, precarious, and at the mercy of chance; but the
peace that is all-pervading, inviolable, and eternal.

The first commandment tells us to be at peace with every one and to
consider none as foolish or unworthy. If peace is violated, we are to
seek to re-establish it. The true religion is in the extinction of
enmity among men. We are to be reconciled without delay, that we may not
lose that inner peace which is the true life (Matt. v. 22-24).
Everything is comprised in this commandment; but Jesus knew the worldly
temptations that prevent peace among men. The first temptation perilous
to peace is that of the sexual relation. We are not to consider the body
as an instrument of lust; each man is to have one wife, and each woman
one husband, and one is never to forsake the other under any pretext
(Matt. v. 28-32). The second temptation is that of the oath, which draws
men into sin; this is wrong, and we are not to be bound by any such
promise (Matt. v. 34-37). The third temptation is that of vengeance,
which we call human justice; this we are not to resort to under any
pretext; we are to endure offences and never to return evil for evil
(Matt. v. 38-42). The fourth temptation is that arising from difference
in nationalities, from hostility between peoples and States; but we are
to remember that all men are brothers, and children of the same Father,
and thus take care that difference in nationality leads not to the
destruction of peace (Matt. v. 43-48).

If men abstain from practising any one of these commandments, peace will
be violated. Let men practise all these commandments, which exclude evil
from the lives of men, and peace will be established upon earth. The
practice of these five commandments would realize the ideal of human
life existing in every human heart. All men would be brothers, each
would be at peace with others, enjoying all the blessings of earth to
the limit of years accorded by the Creator. Men would beat their swords
into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, and then would
come the kingdom of God,--that reign of peace foretold by all the
prophets, which was foretold by John the Baptist as near at hand, and
which Jesus proclaimed in the words of Isaiah:--

"'_The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to
preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken
hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight
to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the
acceptable year of the Lord.'[10]... And he began to say unto them,
To-day hath this Scripture been fulfilled in your ears_" (Luke iv. 18,
19, 21).

     [10] Isaiah lxi. 1, 2.

The commandments for peace given by Jesus,--those simple and clear
commandments, foreseeing all possibilities of discussion, and
anticipating all objections,--these commandments proclaimed the kingdom
of God upon earth. Jesus, then, was, in truth, the Messiah. He fulfilled
what had been promised. But we have not fulfilled the commands we must
fulfil if the kingdom of God is to be established upon earth,--that
kingdom which men in all ages have earnestly desired, and have sought
for continually, all their days.




CHAPTER VII.


WHY is it that men have not done as Jesus commanded them, and thus
secured the greatest happiness within their reach, the happiness they
have always longed for and still desire? The reply to this inquiry is
always the same, although expressed in different ways. The doctrine of
Jesus (we are told) is admirable, and it is true that if we practised
it, we should see the kingdom of God established upon earth; but to
practise it is difficult, and consequently this doctrine is
impracticable. The doctrine of Jesus, which teaches men how they should
live, is admirable, is divine; it brings true happiness, but it is
difficult to practise. We repeat this, and hear it repeated so many,
many times, that we do not observe the contradiction contained in these
words.

It is natural to each human being to do what seems to him best. Any
doctrine teaching men how they should live instructs them only as to
what is best for each. If we show men what they have to do to attain
what is best for each, how can they say that they would like to do it,
but that it is impossible of attainment? According to the law of their
nature they cannot do what is worse for each, and yet they declare that
they cannot do what is best.

The reasonable activity of man, from his earliest existence, has been
applied to the search for what is best among the contradictions that
envelop human life. Men struggled for the soil, for objects which are
necessary to them; then they arrived at the division of goods, and
called this property; finding that this arrangement, although difficult
to establish, was best, they maintained ownership. Men fought with one
another for the possession of women, they abandoned their children; then
they found it was best that each should have his own family; and
although it was difficult to sustain a family, they maintained the
family, as they did ownership and many other things. As soon as they
discover that a thing is best, however difficult of attainment, men do
it. What, then, is the meaning of the saying that the doctrine of Jesus
is admirable, that a life according to the doctrine of Jesus would be
better than the life which men now lead, but that men cannot lead this
better life because it is difficult?

If the word "difficult," used in this way, is to be understood in the
sense that it is difficult to renounce the fleeting satisfaction of
sensual desires that we may obtain a greater good, why do we not say
that it is difficult to labor for bread, difficult to plant a tree that
we may enjoy the fruit? Every being endowed with even the most
rudimentary reason knows that he must endure difficulties to procure any
good, superior to that which he has enjoyed before. And yet we say that
the doctrine of Jesus is admirable, but impossible of practice, because
it is difficult! Now it is difficult, because in following it we are
obliged to deprive ourselves of many things that we have hitherto
enjoyed. Have we never heard that it is far more to our advantage to
endure difficulties and privations than to satisfy all our desires? Man
may fall to the level of the beasts, but he ought not to make use of his
reason to devise an apology for his bestiality. From the moment that he
begins to reason, he is conscious of being endowed with reason, and this
consciousness stimulates him to distinguish between the reasonable and
the unreasonable. Reason does not proscribe; it enlightens.

Suppose that I am shut into a dark room, and in searching for the door I
continually bruise myself against the walls. Some one brings me a light,
and I see the door. I ought no longer to bruise myself when I see the
door; much less ought I to affirm that, although it is best to go out
through the door, it is difficult to do so, and that, consequently, I
prefer to bruise myself against the walls.

In this marvellous argument that the doctrine of Jesus is admirable, and
that its practice would give the world true happiness, but that men are
weak and sinful, that they would do the best and do the worst, and so
cannot do the best,--in this strange plea there is an evident
misapprehension; there is something else besides defective reasoning;
there is also a chimerical idea. Only a chimerical idea, mistaking
reality for what does not exist, and taking the non-existent for
reality, could lead men to deny the possibility of practising that which
by their own avowal would be for their true welfare.

The chimerical idea which has reduced men to this condition is that of
the dogmatic Christian religion, as it is taught through the various
catechisms, to all who profess the Christianity of the Church. This
religion, according to the definition of it given by its followers,
consists in accepting as real that which does not exist--these are
Paul's words,[11] and they are repeated in all the theologies and
catechisms as the best definition of faith. It is this faith in the
reality of what does not exist that leads men to make the strange
affirmation that the doctrine of Jesus is excellent for all men, but is
worth nothing as a guide to their way of living. Here is an exact
summary of what this religion teaches:--

     [11] Heb. ii. 2. Literally, "Faith is the _support_ of the hoped
     for, the _conviction_ of the unseen."

A personal God, who is from all eternity--one of three persons--decided
to create a world of spirits. This God of goodness created the world of
spirits for their own happiness, but it so happened that one of the
spirits became spontaneously wicked. Time passed, and God created a
material world, created man for man's own happiness, created man happy,
immortal, and without sin. The felicity of man consisted in the
enjoyment of life without toil; his immortality was due to the promise
that this life should last forever; his innocence was due to the fact
that he had no conception of evil.

Man was beguiled in paradise by one of the spirits of the first
creation, who had become spontaneously wicked. From this dates the fall
of man, who engendered other men fallen like himself, and from this time
men have endured toil, sickness, suffering, death, the physical and
moral struggle for existence; that is to say, the fantastic being
preceding the fall became real, as we know him to be, as we have no
right or reason to imagine him not to be. The state of man who toils,
who suffers, who chooses what is for his own welfare and rejects what
would be injurious to him, who dies,--this state, which is the real and
only conceivable state, is not, according to the doctrine of this
religion, the normal state of man, but a state which is unnatural and
temporary.

Although this state, according to the doctrine, has lasted for all
humanity since the expulsion of Adam from paradise, that is, from the
commencement of the world until the birth of Jesus, and has continued
since the birth of Jesus under exactly the same conditions, the faithful
are asked to believe that this is an abnormal and temporary state.
According to this doctrine, the Son of God, the second person of the
Trinity, who was himself God, was sent by God into the world in the garb
of humanity to rescue men from this temporary and abnormal state; to
deliver them from the pains with which they had been stricken by this
same God because of Adam's sin; and to restore them to their former
normal state of felicity,--that is to immortality, innocence, and
idleness. The second person of the Trinity (according to this doctrine),
by suffering death at the hands of man, atoned for Adam's sin, and put
an end to that abnormal state which had lasted from the commencement of
the world. And from that time onward, the men who have had faith in
Jesus have returned to the state of the first man in paradise; that is,
have become immortal, innocent, and idle.

The doctrine does not concern itself too closely with the practical
result of the redemption, in virtue of which the earth after Jesus'
coming ought to have become once more, at least for believers,
everywhere fertile, without need of human toil; sickness ought to have
ceased, and mothers have borne children without pain;--since it is
difficult to assure even believers who are worn by excessive labor and
broken down by suffering, that toil is light, and suffering easy to
endure.

But that portion of the doctrine which proclaims the abrogation of death
and of sin, is affirmed with redoubled emphasis. It is asserted that the
dead continue to live. And as the dead cannot bear witness that they are
dead or prove that they are living (just as a stone is unable to affirm
either that it can or cannot speak), this absence of denial is admitted
as proof, and it is affirmed that dead men are not dead. It is affirmed
with still more solemnity and assurance that, since the coming of Jesus,
the man who has faith in him is free from sin; that is, that since the
coming of Jesus, it is no longer necessary that man should guide his
life by reason, and choose what is best for himself. He has only to
believe that Jesus has redeemed his sins and he then becomes infallible,
that is, perfect. According to this doctrine, men ought to believe that
reason is powerless, and that for this cause they are without sin, that
is, cannot err. A faithful believer ought to be convinced that since the
coming of Jesus, the earth brings forth without labor, that childbirth
no longer entails suffering, that diseases no longer exist, and that
death and sin, that is, error, are destroyed; in a word, that what is,
is not, and what is not, is.

Such is the rigorously logical theory of Christian theology. This
doctrine, by itself, seems to be innocent. But deviations from truth are
never inoffensive, and the significance of their consequences is in
proportion to the importance of the subject to which these errors are
applied. And here the subject at issue is the whole life of man. What
this doctrine calls the true life, is a life of personal happiness,
without sin, and eternal; that is, a life that no one has ever known,
and which does not exist. But the life that is, the only life that we
know, the life that we live and that all humanity lives and has lived,
is, according to this doctrine, a degraded and evil existence, a mere
phantasmagoria of the happy life which is our due.

Of the struggle between animal instincts and reason, which is the
essence of human life, this doctrine takes no account. The struggle that
Adam underwent in paradise, in deciding whether to eat or not to eat
the fruit of the tree of knowledge, is, according to this doctrine, no
longer within the range of human experience. The question was decided,
once for all, by Adam in paradise. Adam sinned for all; in other words,
he did wrong, and all men are irretrievably degraded; and all our
efforts to live by reason are vain and even impious. This I ought to
know, for I am irreparably bad. My salvation does not depend upon living
by the light of reason, and, after distinguishing between good and evil,
choosing the good; no, Adam, once for all, sinned for me, and Jesus,
once for all, has atoned for the wrong committed by Adam; and so I
ought, as a looker-on, to mourn over the fall of Adam and rejoice at the
redemption through Jesus.

All the love for truth and goodness in the heart of man, all his efforts
to illuminate his spiritual life by the light of reason, are not only of
slight importance, according to this doctrine; they are a temptation, an
incitement to pride. Life as it is upon this earth, with all its joys
and its splendors, its struggles of reason with darkness,--the life of
all men that have lived before me, my own life with its inner struggles
and triumphs,--all this is not the true life; it is the fallen life, a
life irretrievably bad. The true life, the life without sin, is only in
faith, that is, in imagination, that is, in lunacy.

Let any one break the habit contracted from infancy of believing in all
this; let him look boldly at this doctrine as it is; let him endeavor to
put himself in the position of a man without prejudice, educated
independently of this doctrine--and then let him ask himself if this
doctrine would not appear to such a man as a product of absolute
insanity.

However strange and shocking all this might appear to me, I was obliged
to examine into it, for here alone I found the explanation of the
objection, so devoid of logic and common-sense, that I heard everywhere
with regard to the impossibility of practising the doctrine of Jesus: It
is admirable, and would give true happiness to men, but men are not able
to obey it.

Only a conviction that reality does not exist, and that the non-existent
is real, could lead men to this surprising contradiction. And this false
conviction I found in the pseudo-Christian religion which men had been
teaching for fifteen hundred years.

The objection that the doctrine of Jesus is excellent but impracticable,
comes not only from believers, but from sceptics, from those who do not
believe, or think that they do not believe, in the dogmas of the fall of
man and the redemption; from men of science and philosophers who
consider themselves free from all prejudice. They believe, or imagine
that they believe, in nothing, and so consider themselves as above such
a superstition as the dogma of the fall and the redemption. At first it
seemed to me that all such persons had serious motives for denying the
possibility of practising the doctrine of Jesus. But when I came to look
into the source of their negation, I was convinced that the sceptics,
in common with the believers, have a false conception of life; to them
life is not what it is, but what they imagine it ought to be,--and this
conception rests upon the same foundation as does that of the believers.
It is true that the sceptics, who pretend to believe in nothing, believe
not in God, or in Jesus, or in Adam; but they believe in a fundamental
idea which is at the basis of their misconception,--in the rights of man
to a life of happiness,--much more firmly than do the theologians.

In vain do science and philosophy pose as the arbiters of the human
mind, of which they are in fact only the servants. Religion has provided
a conception of life, and science travels in the beaten path. Religion
reveals the meaning of life, and science only applies this meaning to
the course of circumstances. And so, if religion falsifies the meaning
of human life, science, which builds upon the same foundation, can only
make manifest the same fantastic ideas.

According to the doctrine of the Church, men have a right to happiness,
and this happiness is not the result of their own efforts, but of
external causes. This conception has become the base of science and
philosophy. Religion, science, and public opinion all unite in telling
us that the life we now live is bad, and at the same time they affirm
that the doctrine which teaches us how we can succeed in ameliorating
life by becoming better, is an impracticable doctrine. Religion says
that the doctrine of Jesus, which provides a reasonable method for the
improvement of life by our own efforts, is impracticable because Adam
fell and the world was plunged into sin. Philosophy says that the
doctrine of Jesus is impracticable because human life is developed
according to laws that are independent of the human will. In other
words, the conclusions of science and philosophy are exactly the same as
the conclusion reached by religion in the dogmas of original sin and the
redemption.

There are two leading theses at the basis of the doctrine of the
redemption: (1) the normal life of man is a life of happiness, but our
life on earth is one of misery, and it can never be bettered by our own
efforts; (2) our salvation is in faith, which enables us to escape from
this life of misery. These two theses are the source of the religious
conceptions of the believers and sceptics who make up our
pseudo-Christian societies. The second thesis gave birth to the Church
and its organization; from the first is derived the received tenets of
public opinion and our political and philosophical theories. The germ of
all political and philosophical theories that seek to justify the
existing order of things--such as Hegelianism and its offshoots--is in
this second thesis. Pessimism, which demands of life what it cannot give
and then denies its value, has also its origin in the same dogmatic
proposition. Materialism, with its strange and enthusiastic affirmation
that man is the product of natural forces and nothing more, is the
legitimate result of the doctrine that teaches that life on earth is a
degraded existence. Spiritism, with its learned adherents, is the best
proof we have that the conclusions of philosophy and science are based
upon the religious doctrine of that eternal happiness which should be
the natural heritage of man.

This false conception of life has had a deplorable influence upon all
reasonable human activity. The dogma of the fall and the redemption has
debarred man from the most important and legitimate field for the
exercise of his powers, and has deprived him entirely of the idea that
he can of himself do anything to make his life happier or better.
Science and philosophy, proudly believing themselves hostile to
pseudo-Christianity, only carry out its decrees. Science and philosophy
concern themselves with everything except the theory that man can do
anything to make himself better or happier. Ethical and moral
instruction have disappeared from our pseudo-Christian society without
leaving a trace.

Believers and sceptics who concern themselves so little with the problem
how to live, how to make use of the reason with which we are endowed,
ask why our earthly life is not what they imagine it ought to be, and
when it will become what they wish. This singular phenomenon is due to
the false doctrine which has penetrated into the very marrow of
humanity. The effects of the knowledge of good and evil, which man so
unhappily acquired in paradise, do not seem to have been very lasting;
for, neglecting the truth that life is only a solution of the
contradictions between animal instincts and reason, he stolidly
refrains from applying his reason to the discovery of the historical
laws that govern his animal nature.

Excepting the philosophical doctrines of the pseudo-Christian world, all
the philosophical and religious doctrines of which we have
knowledge--Judaism, the doctrine of Confucius, Buddhism, Brahmanism, the
wisdom of the Greeks--all aim to regulate human life, and to enlighten
men with regard to what they must do to improve their condition. The
doctrine of Confucius teaches the perfecting of the individual; Judaism,
personal fidelity to an alliance with God; Buddhism, how to escape from
a life governed by animal instincts; Socrates taught the perfecting of
the individual through reason; the Stoics recognized the independence of
reason as the sole basis of the true life.

The reasonable activity of man has always been--it could not be
otherwise--to light by the torch of reason his progress toward
beatitude. Philosophy tells us that free-will is an illusion, and then
boasts of the boldness of such a declaration. Free-will is not only an
illusion; it is an empty word invented by theologians and experts in
criminal law; to refute it would be to undertake a battle with a
wind-mill. But reason, which illuminates our life and impels us to
modify our actions, is not an illusion, and its authority can never be
denied. To obey reason in the pursuit of good is the substance of the
teachings of all the masters of humanity, and it is the substance of the
doctrine of Jesus; it is reason itself, and we cannot deny reason by
the use of reason.

Making use of the phrase "son of man," Jesus teaches that all men have a
common impulse toward good and toward reason, which leads to good. It is
superfluous to attempt to prove that "son of man" means "Son of God." To
understand by the words "son of man" anything different from what they
signify is to assume that Jesus, to say what he wished to say,
intentionally made use of words which have an entirely different
meaning. But even if, as the Church says, "son of man" means "Son of
God," the phrase "son of man" applies none the less to man, for Jesus
himself called all men "the sons of God."

The doctrine of the "son of man" finds its most complete expression in
the interview with Nicodemus. Every man, Jesus says, aside from his
consciousness of his material, individual life and of his birth in the
flesh, has also a consciousness of a spiritual birth (John iii. 5, 6,
7), of an inner liberty, of something within; this comes from on high,
from the infinite that we call God (John iii. 14-17); now it is this
inner consciousness born of God, the son of God in man, that we must
possess and nourish if we would possess true life. The son of man is
homogeneous (of the same race) with God.

Whoever lifts up within himself this son of God, whoever identifies his
life with the spiritual life, will not deviate from the true way. Men
wander from the way because they do not believe in this light which is
within them, the light of which John speaks when he says, "_In him was
life; and the life was the light of men_." Jesus tells us to lift up the
son of man, who is the son of God, for a light to all men. When we have
lifted up the son of man, we shall then know that we can do nothing
without his guidance (John viii. 28). Asked, "Who is this son of man?"
Jesus answers:--

"_Yet a little while is the light in you.[12] Walk while ye have the
light, lest darkness come upon you: for he that walketh in darkness
knoweth not whither he goeth._" (John xii. 35.)

     [12] In all the translations authorized by the Church, we find here
     a perhaps intentional error. The words [Greek: en hymin], _in you_,
     are invariably rendered _with you_.

The son of man is the light in every man that ought to illuminate his
life. "_Take heed therefore, that the light which is in thee be not
darkness_," is Jesus' warning to the multitude (Luke xi. 35).

In all the different ages of humanity we find the same thought, that man
is the receptacle of the divine light descended from heaven, and that
this light is reason, which alone should be the object of our worship,
since it alone can show the way to true well-being. This has been said
by the Brahmins, by the Hebrew prophets, by Confucius, by Socrates, by
Marcus Aurelius, by Epictetus, and by all the true sages,--not by
compilers of philosophical theories, but by men who sought goodness for
themselves and for others.[13] And yet we declare, in accordance with
the dogma of the redemption, that it is entirely superfluous to think of
the light that is in us, and that we ought not to speak of it at all!

     [13] Marcus Aurelius says: "Reverence that which is best in the
     universe; and this is that which makes use of all things and
     directs all things. And in like manner also reverence that which is
     best in thyself; and this is of the same kind as that. For in
     thyself, also, that which makes use of everything else, is this,
     and thy life is directed by this." (Meditations v. 21.)

     Epictetus says: "From God have descended the seeds not only to my
     father and grandfather, but to all beings which are generated on
     the earth and are produced, and particularly to rational beings;
     for these only are by their nature formed to have communion with
     God, being by means of reason conjoined with him." (Discourses,
     chap. ix.)

     Confucius says: "The law of the great learning consists in
     developing and re-establishing the luminous principle of reason
     which we have received from on high." This sentence is repeated
     many times, and constitutes the basis of Confucius' doctrine.

We must, say the believers, study the three persons of the Trinity; we
must know the nature of each of these persons, and what sacraments we
ought or ought not to perform, for our salvation depends, not on our own
efforts, but on the Trinity and the regular performance of the
sacraments. We must, say the sceptics, know the laws by which this
infinitesimal particle of matter was evolved in infinite space and
infinite time; but it is absurd to believe that by reason alone we can
secure true well-being, because the amelioration of man's condition does
not depend upon man himself, but upon the laws that we are trying to
discover.

I firmly believe that, a few centuries hence, the history of what we
call the scientific activity of this age will be a prolific subject for
the hilarity and pity of future generations. For a number of centuries,
they will say, the scholars of the western portion of a great continent
were the victims of epidemic insanity; they imagined themselves to be
the possessors of a life of eternal beatitude, and they busied
themselves with divers lucubrations in which they sought to determine in
what way this life could be realized, without doing anything themselves,
or even concerning themselves with what they ought to do to ameliorate
the life which they already had. And what to the future historian will
seem much more melancholy, it will be found that this group of men had
once had a master who had taught them a number of simple and clear
rules, pointing out what they must do to render their lives happy,--and
that the words of this master had been construed by some to mean that he
would come on a cloud to re-organize human society, and by others as
admirable doctrine, but impracticable, since human life was not what
they conceived it to be, and consequently was not worthy of
consideration; as to human reason, it must concern itself with the study
of the laws of an imaginary existence, without concerning itself about
the welfare of the individual man.

The Church says that the doctrine of Jesus cannot be literally practised
here on earth, because this earthly life is naturally evil, since it is
only a shadow of the true life. The best way of living is to scorn this
earthly existence, to be guided by faith (that is, by imagination) in a
happy and eternal life to come, and to continue to live a bad life here
and to pray to the good God.

Philosophy, science, and public opinion all say that the doctrine of
Jesus is not applicable to human life as it now is, because the life of
man does not depend upon the light of reason, but upon general laws;
hence it is useless to try to live absolutely conformable to reason; we
must live as we can with the firm conviction that according to the laws
of historical and sociological progress, after having lived very
imperfectly for a very long time, we shall suddenly find that our lives
have become very good.

People come to a farm; they find there all that is necessary to sustain
life,--a house well furnished, barns filled with grain, cellars and
store-rooms well stocked with provisions, implements of husbandry,
horses and cattle,--in a word, all that is needed for a life of comfort
and ease. Each wishes to profit by this abundance, but each for himself,
without thinking of others, or of those who may come after him. Each
wants the whole for himself, and begins to seize upon all that he can
possibly grasp. Then begins a veritable pillage; they fight for the
possession of the spoils; oxen and sheep are slaughtered; wagons and
other implements are broken up into firewood; they fight for the milk
and grain; they grasp more than they can consume. No one is able to sit
down to the tranquil enjoyment of what he has, lest another take away
the spoils already secured, to surrender them in turn to some one
stronger. All these people leave the farm, bruised and famished.
Thereupon the Master puts everything to rights, and arranges matters so
that one may live there in peace. The farm is again a treasury of
abundance. Then comes another group of seekers, and the same struggle
and tumult is repeated, till these in their turn go away bruised and
angry, cursing the Master for providing so little and so ill. The good
Master is not discouraged; he again provides for all that is needed to
sustain life,--and the same incidents are repeated over and over again.

Finally, among those who come to the farm, is one who says to his
companions: "Comrades, how foolish we are! see how abundantly everything
is supplied, how well everything is arranged! There is enough here for
us and for those who will come after us; let us act in a reasonable
manner. Instead of robbing each other, let us help one another. Let us
work, plant, care for the dumb animals, and every one will be
satisfied." Some of the company understand what this wise person says;
they cease from fighting and from robbing one another, and begin to
work. But others, who have not heard the words of the wise man, or who
distrust him, continue their former pillage of the Master's goods. This
condition of things lasts for a long time. Those who have followed the
counsels of the wise man say to those about them: "Cease from fighting,
cease from wasting the Master's goods; you will be better off for doing
so; follow the wise man's advice." Nevertheless, a great many do not
hear and will not believe, and matters go on very much as they did
before.

All this is natural, and will continue as long as people do not believe
the wise man's words. But, we are told, a time will come when every one
on the farm will listen to and understand the words of the wise man, and
will realize that God spoke through his lips, and that the wise man was
himself none other than God in person; and all will have faith in his
words. Meanwhile, instead of living according to the advice of the wise
man, each struggles for his own, and they slay each other without pity,
saying, "The struggle for existence is inevitable; we cannot do
otherwise."

What does it all mean? Even the beasts graze in the fields without
interfering with each other's needs, and men, after having learned the
conditions of the true life, and after being convinced that God himself
has shown them how to live the true life, follow still their evil ways,
saying that it is impossible to live otherwise. What should we think of
the people at the farm if, after having heard the words of the wise man,
they had continued to live as before, snatching the bread from each
other's mouths, fighting, and trying to grasp everything, to their own
loss? We should say that they had misunderstood the wise man's words,
and imagined things to be different from what they really were. The wise
man said to them, "Your life here is bad; amend your ways, and it will
become good." And they imagined that the wise man had condemned their
life on the farm, and had promised them another and a better life
somewhere else. They decided that the farm was only a temporary
dwelling-place, and that it was not worth while to try to live well
there; the important thing was not to be cheated out of the other life
promised them elsewhere. This is the only way in which we can explain
the strange conduct of the people on the farm, of whom some believed
that the wise man was God, and others that he was a man of wisdom, but
all continued to live as before in defiance of the wise man's words.
They understood everything but the one significant truth in the wise
man's teachings,--that they must work out for themselves their own peace
and happiness there on the farm, which they took for a temporary abode
thinking all the time of the better life they were to possess elsewhere.

Here is the origin of the strange declaration that the precepts of the
wise man were admirable, even divine, but that they were difficult to
practise.

Oh, if men would only cease from evil ways while waiting for the Christ
to come in his chariot of fire to their aid; if they would only cease to
invoke the law of the differentiation or integration of forces, or any
historical law whatever! None will come to their aid if they do not aid
themselves. And to aid ourselves to a better life, we need expect
nothing from heaven or from earth; we need only to cease from ways that
result in our own loss.




CHAPTER VIII.


IF it be admitted that the doctrine of Jesus is perfectly reasonable,
and that it alone can give to men true happiness, what would be the
condition of a single follower of that doctrine in the midst of a world
that did not practise it at all? If all men would decide at the same
time to obey, its practice would then be possible. But one man alone
cannot act in defiance of the whole world; and so we hear continually
this plea: "If, among men who do not practise the doctrine of Jesus, I
alone obey it; if I give away all that I possess; if I turn the other
cheek; if I refuse to take an oath or to go to war, I should find myself
in profound isolation; if I did not die of hunger, I should be beaten;
if I survived that, I should be cast into prison; I should be shot, and
all the happiness of my life--my life itself--would be sacrificed in
vain."

This plea is founded upon the doctrine of _quid pro quo_, which is the
basis of all arguments against the possibility of practising the
doctrine of Jesus. It is the current objection, and I sympathized with
it in common with all the rest of the world, until I finally broke
entirely away from the dogmas of the Church which prevented me from
understanding the true significance of the doctrine of Jesus. Jesus
prepared his doctrine as a means of salvation from the life of
perdition organized by men contrary to his precepts; and I declared that
I should be very glad to follow this doctrine if it were not for fear of
this very perdition. Jesus offered me the true remedy against a life of
perdition, and I clung to the life of perdition! from which it was plain
that I did not consider this life as a life of perdition, but as
something good, something real. The conviction that my personal, worldly
life was something real and good constituted the misunderstanding, the
obstacle, that prevented me from comprehending Jesus' doctrine. Jesus
knew the disposition of men to regard their personal, worldly life as
real and good, and so, in a series of apothegms and parables, he taught
them that they had no right to life, and that they were given life only
that they might assure themselves of the true life by renouncing their
worldly and fantastic organization of existence.

To understand what is meant by "saving" one's life, according to the
doctrine of Jesus, we must first understand what the prophets, what
Solomon, what Buddha, what all the wise men of the world have said about
the personal life of man. But, as Pascal says, we cannot endure to think
upon this theme, and so we carry always before us a screen to conceal
the abyss of death, toward which we are constantly moving. It suffices
to reflect on the isolation of the personal life of man, to be convinced
that this life, in so far as it is personal, is not only of no account
to each separately, but that it is a cruel jest to heart and reason. To
understand the doctrine of Jesus, we must, before all, return to
ourselves, reflect soberly, undergo the [Greek: metanoia] of which John
the Baptist, the precursor of Jesus, speaks, when addressing himself to
men of clouded judgment. "Repent" (such was his preaching); "repent,
have another mind, or you shall all perish. The axe is laid unto the
root of the trees. Death and perdition await each one of you. Be warned,
turn back, repent." And Jesus declared, "_Except ye repent, ye shall all
likewise perish_." When Jesus was told of the death of the Galileans
massacred by Pilate, he said:--

"_Suppose ye that these Galileans were sinners above all the Galileans,
because they suffered such things? I tell you, Nay: but, except ye
repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen upon whom the
tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners
above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you. Nay: but, except ye
repent, ye shall all likewise perish._" (Luke xiii. 1-5.)

If he had lived in our day, in Russia, he would have said: "Think you
that those who perished in the circus at Berditchef or on the slopes of
Koukouyef were sinners above all others? I tell you, No; but you, if you
do not repent, if you do not arouse yourselves, if you do not find in
your life that which is imperishable, you also shall perish. You are
horrified by the death of those crushed by the tower, burned in the
circus; but your death, equally as frightful and as inevitable, is here,
before you. You are wrong to conceal it or to forget it; unlocked for,
it is only more hideous."

To the people of his own time he said:--

"_When ye see a cloud rise out of the west, straightway ye say, There
cometh a shower; and so it is. And when ye see the south wind blow, ye
say, There will be heat; and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites, ye can
discern the face of the sky and of the earth; but how is it that ye do
not discern this time? Yea, and why even of yourselves judge ye not what
is right?_" (Luke xii. 54-57.)

We know how to interpret the signs of the weather; why, then, do we not
see what is before us? It is in vain that we fly from danger, and guard
our material life by all imaginable means; in spite of all, death is
before us, if not in one way, then in another; if not by massacre, or
the falling of a tower, then in our beds, amidst much greater suffering.

Make a simple calculation, as those do who undertake any worldly
project, any enterprise whatever, such as the construction of a house,
or the purchase of an estate, such as those make who labor with the hope
of seeing their calculations realized.

"_For which of you intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first,
and counteth the cost whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest
haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it,
all that behold it begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build,
and was not able to finish. Or what king, going to make war against
another king, sitteth not down first and consulteth whether he be able
with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty
thousand?_" (Luke xiv. 28-31.)

Is it not the act of a madman to labor at what, under any circumstances,
one can never finish? Death will always come before the edifice of
worldly prosperity can be completed. And if we knew beforehand that,
however we may struggle with death, it is not we, but death, that will
triumph; is it not an indication that we ought not to struggle with
death, or to set our hearts upon that which will surely perish, but to
seek to perform the task whose results cannot be destroyed by our
inevitable departure?

"_And he said unto his disciples, Therefore I say unto you, Take no
thought for your life what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye
shall put on. The life is more than meat and the body is more than
raiment. Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which
neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: How much more
are ye better than the fowls? And which of you with taking thought can
add to his stature one cubit? If ye then be not able to do that thing
which is least, why take ye thought for the rest? Consider the lilies
how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you that
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these._" (Luke xii.
22-27.)

Whatever pains we may take for our nourishment, for the care of the
body, we cannot prolong life by a single hour.[14] Is it not folly to
trouble ourselves about a thing that we cannot possibly accomplish? We
know perfectly well that our material life will end with death, and we
give ourselves up to evil to procure riches. Life cannot be measured by
what we possess; if we think so, we only delude ourselves. Jesus tells
us that the meaning of life does not lie in what we possess or in what
we can accumulate, but in something entirely different. He says:--

     [14] The words of verse 25 are incorrectly translated; the word
     [Greek: hêlikian] means _age, age of life_: consequently the whole
     phrase should be rendered: can add one hour to his life.

"_The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully: And he
thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room
where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down
my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and
my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods lead up
for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said
unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then
whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided? So is he that
layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God._" (Luke xii.
16-21.)

Death threatens us every moment; Jesus says:--

"_Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning; and ye
yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return
from the wedding; that, when he cometh and knocketh, they may open unto
him immediately. Blessed are those servants, whom the lord when he
cometh shall find watching; ...And if he shall come in the second watch,
or come in the third watch, and find them so, blessed are those
servants. And this know, that if the goodman of the house had known
what hour the thief would come, he would have watched, and not have
suffered his house to be broken through. Be ye therefore ready also: for
the son of man cometh at an hour when ye think not._" (Luke xii. 35-40.)

The parable of the virgins waiting for the bridegroom, that of the
consummation of the age and the last judgment, as the commentators all
agree, are designed to teach that death awaits us at every moment. Death
awaits us at every moment. Life is passed in sight of death. If we labor
for ourselves alone, for our personal future, we know that what awaits
us in the future is death. And death will destroy all the fruits of our
labor. Consequently, a life for self can have no meaning. The reasonable
life is different; it has another aim than the poor desires of a single
individual. The reasonable life consists in living in such a way that
life cannot be destroyed by death. We are troubled about many things,
but only one thing is necessary.

From the moment of his birth, man is menaced by an inevitable peril,
that is, by a life deprived of meaning, and a wretched death, if he does
not discover the thing essential to the true life. Now it is precisely
this one thing which insures the true life that Jesus reveals to men. He
invents nothing, he promises nothing through divine power; side by side
with this personal life, which is a delusion, he simply reveals to men
the truth.

In the parable of the husbandmen (Matt. xxi. 33-42), Jesus explains the
cause of that blindness in men which conceals the truth from them, and
which impels them to take the apparent for the real, their personal life
for the true life. Certain men, having leased a vineyard, imagined that
they were its masters. And this delusion leads them into a series of
foolish and cruel actions, which ends in their exile. So each one of us
imagines that life is his personal property, and that he has a right to
enjoy it in such a way as may seem to him good, without recognizing any
obligation to others. And the inevitable consequence of this delusion is
a series of foolish and cruel actions followed by exclusion from life.
And as the husbandmen killed the servants and at last the son of the
householder, thinking that the more cruel they were, the better able
they would be to gain their ends, so we imagine that we shall obtain the
greatest security by means of violence.

Expulsion, the inevitable sentence visited upon the husbandmen for
having taken to themselves the fruits of the vineyard, awaits also all
men who imagine that the personal life is the true life. Death expels
them from life; they are replaced by others, as a consequence of the
error which led them to misconceive the meaning of life. As the
husbandmen forgot, or did not wish to remember, that they had received a
vineyard already hedged about and provided with winepress and tower,
that some one had labored for them and expected them to labor in their
turn for others;--so the men who would live for themselves forget, or do
not wish to remember, all that has been done for them during their
life; they forget that they are under an obligation to labor in their
turn, and that all the blessings of life which they enjoy are fruits
that they ought to divide with others.

This new manner of looking at life, this [Greek: metanoia], or
repentance, is the corner-stone of the doctrine of Jesus. According to
this doctrine, men ought to understand and feel that they are insolvent,
as the husbandmen should have understood and felt that they were
insolvent to the householder, unable to pay the debt contracted by
generations past, present, and to come, with the overruling power. They
ought to feel that every hour of their existence is only a mortgage upon
this debt, and that every man who, by a selfish life, rejects this
obligation, separates himself from the principle of life, and so
forfeits life. Each one should remember that in striving to save his own
life, his personal life, he loses the true life, as Jesus so many times
said. The true life is the life which adds something to the store of
happiness accumulated by past generations, which increases this heritage
in the present, and hands it down to the future. To take part in this
true life, man should renounce his personal will for the will of the
Father, who gives this life to man. In John viii. 35, we read:--

"_And the servant abideth not in the house forever: but the son abideth
forever._"

That is, only the son who observes the will of the father shall have
eternal life. Now, the will of the Father of Life is not the personal,
selfish life, but the filial life of the son of man; and so a man saves
his life when he considers it as a pledge, as something confided to him
by the Father for the profit of all, as something with which to live the
life of the son of man.

A man, about to travel into a far country, called his servants together
and divided among them his goods. Although receiving no precise
instructions as to the manner in which they were to use these goods,
some of the servants understood that the goods still belonged to the
master, and that they ought to employ them for the master's gain. And
the servants who had labored for the good of the master were rewarded,
while the others, who had not so labored, were despoiled even of what
they had received. (Matt. xxv. 14-46.)

The life of the son of man has been given to all men, and they know not
why. Some of them understand that life is not for their personal use,
but that they must use it for the good of the son of man; others,
feigning not to understand the true object of life, refuse to labor for
the son of man; and those that labor for the true life will be united
with the source of life; those that do not so labor, will lose the life
they already have. Jesus tells us in what the service of the son of man
consists and what will be the recompense of that service. The son of
man, endowed with kingly authority, will call upon the faithful to
inherit the true life; they have fed the hungry, given drink to the
thirsty, clothed and consoled the wretched, and in so doing they have
ministered to the son of man, who is the same in all men; they have not
lived the personal life, but the life of the son of man, and they are
given the life eternal.

According to all the Gospels, the object of Jesus' teaching was the life
eternal. And, strange as it may seem, Jesus, who is supposed to have
been raised in person, and to have promised a general resurrection,
--Jesus not only said nothing in affirmation of individual
resurrection and individual immortality beyond the grave, but on the
contrary, every time that he met with this superstition (introduced at
this period into the Talmud, and of which there is not a trace in the
records of the Hebrew prophets), he did not fail to deny its truth. The
Pharisees and the Sadducees were constantly discussing the subject of
the resurrection of the dead. The Pharisees believed in the resurrection
of the dead, in angels, and in spirits (Acts xxiii. 8), but the
Sadducees did not believe in resurrection, or angel, or spirit. We do
not know the source of the difference in belief, but it is certain that
it was one of the polemical subjects among the secondary questions of
the Hebraic doctrine that were constantly under discussion in the
Synagogues. And Jesus not only did not recognize the resurrection, but
denied it every time he met with the idea. When the Sadducees demanded
of Jesus, supposing that he believed with the Pharisees in the
resurrection, to which of the seven brethren the woman should belong, he
refuted with clearness and precision the idea of individual
resurrection, saying that on this subject they erred, knowing neither
the Scriptures nor the power of God. Those who are worthy of
resurrection, he said, will remain like the angels of heaven (Mark xii.
21-24); and with regard to the dead:--

"_Have ye not read in the book of Moses, how in the bush God spake unto
him, saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God
of Jacob?[15] He is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living:
ye, therefore, do greatly err._" (Mark xii. 26, 27.)

     [15] Exod. iii. 6.

Jesus' meaning was that the dead are living in God. God said to Moses,
"I am the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob." To God, all those
who have lived the life of the son of man, are living. Jesus affirmed
only this, that whoever lives in God, will be united to God; and he
admitted no other idea of the resurrection. As to personal resurrection,
strange as it may appear to those who have never carefully studied the
Gospels for themselves, Jesus said nothing about it whatever.

If, as the theologians teach, the foundation of the Christian faith is
the resurrection of Jesus, is it not strange that Jesus, knowing of his
own resurrection, knowing that in this consisted the principal dogma of
faith in him--is it not strange that Jesus did not speak of the matter
at least once, in clear and precise terms? Now, according to the
canonical Gospels, he not only did not speak of it in clear and precise
terms; he did not speak of it at all, not once, not a single word.

The doctrine of Jesus consisted in the elevation of the son of man, that
is, in the recognition on the part of man, that he, man, was the son of
God. In his own individuality Jesus personified the man who has
recognized the filial relation with God. He asked his disciples whom men
said that he was--the son of man? His disciples replied that some took
him for John the Baptist, and some for Elijah. Then came the question,
"_But whom say ye that I am?_" And Peter answered, "_Thou art the
Messiah, the son of the living God._" Jesus responded, "_Flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven_;"
meaning that Peter understood, not through faith in human explanations,
but because, feeling himself to be the son of God, he understood that
Jesus was also the son of God. And after having explained to Peter that
the true faith is founded upon the perception of the filial relation to
God, Jesus charged his other disciples that they should tell no man that
he was the Messiah. After this, Jesus told them that although he might
suffer many things and be put to death, he, that is his doctrine, would
be triumphantly re-established. And these words are interpreted as a
prophecy of the resurrection (Matt. xvi. 13-21).

Of the thirteen passages[16] which are interpreted as prophecies of
Jesus in regard to his own resurrection, two refer to Jonah in the
whale's belly, another to the rebuilding of the temple. The others
affirm that the son of man shall not be destroyed; but there is not a
word about the resurrection of Jesus. In none of these passages is the
word "resurrection" found in the original text. Ask any one who is
ignorant of theological interpretations, but who knows Greek, to
translate them, and he will never agree with the received versions. In
the original we find two different words, _[Greek: anistêmi]_ and
[Greek: egeirô], which are rendered in the sense of resurrection; one of
these words means to "re-establish"; the other means "to awaken, to rise
up, to arouse one's self." But neither the one nor the other can ever,
in any case, mean to "resuscitate"--to raise from the dead. With regard
to these Greek words and the corresponding Hebrew word, _qum_, we have
only to examine the scriptural passages where these words are employed,
as they are very frequently, to see that in no case is the meaning "to
resuscitate" admissible. The word _voskresnovit_, _auferstehn_,
_resusciter_--"to resuscitate"--did not exist in the Greek or Hebrew
tongues, for the reason that the conception corresponding to this word
did not exist. To express the idea of resurrection in Greek or in
Hebrew, it is necessary to employ a periphrasis, meaning, "is arisen,
has awakened among the dead." Thus, in the Gospel of Matthew (xiv. 2)
where reference is made to Herod's belief that John the Baptist had been
resuscitated, we read, [Greek: autos êgerthê apo tôn nekrôn], "has
awakened among the dead." In the same manner, in Luke (xvi. 31), at the
close of the parable of Lazarus, where it said that if men believe not
the prophets, they would not believe even though one be resuscitated, we
find the periphrasis, [Greek: ean tis ek nekrôn anastê], "if one arose
among the dead." But, if in these passages the words "among the dead"
were not added to the words "arose or awakened," the last two could
never signify resuscitation. When Jesus spoke of himself, he did not
once use the words "among the dead" in any of the passages quoted in
support of the affirmation that Jesus foretold his own resurrection.

     [16] John xi. 19-22; Matt. xii. 40; Luke xi. 30; Matt. xvi. 21;
     Mark viii. 31; Luke ix. 22; Matt. xvii. 23; Mark ix. 31; Matt. xx.
     19; Mark x. 34; Luke xviii. 33; Matt. xxvi. 32; Mark xiv. 25.

Our conception of the resurrection is so entirely foreign to any idea
that the Hebrews possessed with regard to life, that we cannot even
imagine how Jesus would have been able to talk to them of the
resurrection, and of an eternal, individual life, which should be the
lot of every man. The idea of a future eternal life comes neither from
Jewish doctrine nor from the doctrine of Jesus, but from an entirely
different source. We are obliged to believe that belief in a future life
is a primitive and crude conception based upon a confused idea of the
resemblance between death and sleep,--an idea common to all savage
races.

The Hebraic doctrine (and much more the Christian doctrine) was far
above this conception. But we are so convinced of the elevated character
of this superstition, that we use it as a proof of the superiority of
our doctrine to that of the Chinese or the Hindus, who do not believe
in it at all. Not the theologians only, but the free-thinkers, the
learned historians of religions, such as Tiele, and Max Müller, make use
of the same argument. In their classification of religions, they give
the first place to those which recognize the superstition of the
resurrection, and declare them to be far superior to those not
professing that belief. Schopenhauer boldly denounced the Hebraic
religion as the most despicable of all religions because it contains not
a trace of this belief. Not only the idea itself, but all means of
expressing it, were wanting to the Hebraic religion. Eternal life is in
Hebrew _hayail eolam_. By _olam_ is meant the infinite, that which is
permanent in the limits of time; _olam_ also means "world" or "cosmos."
Universal life, and much more _hayai leolam_, "eternal life," is,
according to the Jewish doctrine, the attribute of God alone. God is the
God of life, the living God. Man, according to the Hebraic idea, is
always mortal. God alone is always living. In the Pentateuch, the
expression "eternal life" is twice met with; once in Deuteronomy and
once in Genesis. God is represented as saying:--

  "_See now that I, even I, am he,
   And there is no god with me:
   I kill, and I make alive;
   I have wounded, and I heal:
   And there is none that can deliver out of my hand.
   For I lift up my hand to heaven,
   And say, As I live forever._"

       (Deut. xxxii. 39, 40.)

"_And Jehovah said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good
and evil; and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also the tree of
life, and live forever._" (Gen. iii. 22.)

These two sole instances of the use of the expression "eternal life" in
the Old Testament (with the exception of another instance in the
apocryphal book of Daniel) determine clearly the Hebraic conception of
the life of man and the life eternal. Life itself, according to the
Hebrews, is eternal, is in God; but man is always mortal: it is his
nature to be so. According to the Jewish doctrine, man as man, is
mortal. He has life only as it passes from one generation to another,
and is so perpetuated in a race. According to the Jewish doctrine, the
faculty of life exists in the _people_. When God said, "Ye may live, and
not die," he addressed these words to the people. The life that God
breathed into man is mortal for each separate human being; this life is
perpetuated from generation to generation, if men fulfil the union with
God, that is, obey the conditions imposed by God. After having
propounded the Law, and having told them that this Law was to be found
not in heaven, but in their own hearts, Moses said to the people:--

"_See, I have set before thee this day life and good, and death and
evil; in that I command thee this day to love the Eternal, to walk in
his ways, and to keep his commandments, that thou mayest live.... I call
heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before
thee life and death, the blessing and the curse: therefore choose life,
that thou mayest live, thou and thy seed: to love the Eternal, to obey
his voice, and to cleave unto him: for he is thy life, and the length of
thy days._" (Deut. xxx. 15-19.)

The principal difference between our conception of human life and that
possessed by the Jews is, that while we believe that our mortal life,
transmitted from generation to generation, is not the true life, but a
fallen life, a life temporarily depraved,--the Jews, on the contrary,
believed this life to be the true and supreme good, given to man on
condition that he obey the will of God. From our point of view, the
transmission of the fallen life from generation to generation is the
transmission of a curse; from the Jewish point of view, it is the
supreme good to which man can attain, on condition that he accomplish
the will of God. It is precisely upon the Hebraic conception of life
that Jesus founded his doctrine of the true or eternal life, which he
contrasted with the personal and mortal life. Jesus said to the Jews:--

"_Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and
they are they which testify of me._" (John v. 39.)

To the young man who asked what he must do to have eternal life, Jesus
said in reply, "_If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments_."
He did not say "the eternal life," but simply "the life" (Matt. xix.
17). To the same question propounded by the scribe, the answer was,
"_This do, and thou shalt live_" (Luke x. 28), once more promising life,
but saying nothing of eternal life. From these two instances, we know
what Jesus meant by eternal life; whenever he made use of the phrase in
speaking to the Jews, he employed it in exactly the same sense in which
it was expressed in their own law,--the accomplishment of the will of
God. In contrast with the life that is temporary, isolated, and
personal, Jesus taught of the eternal life promised by God to
Israel--with this difference, that while the Jews believed the eternal
life was to be perpetuated solely by their chosen people, and that
whoever wished to possess this life must follow the exceptional laws
given by God to Israel,--the doctrine of Jesus holds that the eternal
life is perpetuated in the son of man, and that to obtain it we must
practise the commandments of Jesus, who summed up the will of God for
all humanity.

As opposed to the personal life, Jesus taught us, not of a life beyond
the grave, but of that universal life which comprises within itself the
life of humanity, past, present, and to come. According to the Jewish
doctrine, the personal life could be saved from death only by
accomplishing the will of God as propounded in the Mosaic law. On this
condition only the life of the Jewish race would not perish, but would
pass from generation to generation of the chosen people of God.
According to the doctrine of Jesus, the personal life is saved from
death by the accomplishment of the will of God as propounded in the
commandments of Jesus. On this condition alone the personal life does
not perish, but becomes eternal and immutable, in union with the son of
man. The difference is, that while the religion given by Moses was that
of a people for a national God, the religion of Jesus is the expression
of the aspirations of all humanity. The perpetuity of life in the
posterity of a people is doubtful, because the people itself may
disappear, and perpetuity depends upon a posterity in the flesh.
Perpetuity of life, according to the doctrine of Jesus, is indubitable,
because life, according to his doctrine, is an attribute of all humanity
in the son of man who lives in harmony with the will of God.

If we believe that Jesus' words concerning the last judgment and the
consummation of the age, and other words reported in the Gospel of John,
are a promise of a life beyond the grave for the souls of men,--if we
believe this, it is none the less true that his teachings in regard to
the light of life and the kingdom of God have the same meaning for us
that they had for his hearers eighteen centuries ago; that is, that the
only real life is the life of the son of man conformable to the will of
the Giver of Life. It is easier to admit this than to admit that the
doctrine of the true life, conformable to the will of the Giver of Life,
contains the promise of the immortality of life beyond the grave.

Perhaps it is right to think that man, after this terrestrial life
passed in the satisfaction of personal desires, will enter upon the
possession of an eternal personal life in paradise, there to taste all
imaginable enjoyments; but to believe that this is so, to endeavor to
persuade ourselves that for our good actions we shall be recompensed
with eternal felicity, and for our bad actions punished with eternal
torments,--to believe this, does not aid us in understanding the
doctrine of Jesus, but, on the contrary, takes away the principal
foundation of that doctrine. The entire doctrine of Jesus inculcates
renunciation of the personal, imaginary life, and a merging of this
personal life in the universal life of humanity, in the life of the son
of man. Now the doctrine of the individual immortality of the soul does
not impel us to renounce the personal life; on the contrary, it affirms
the continuance of individuality forever.

The Jews, the Chinese, the Hindus, all men who do not believe in the
dogma of the fall and the redemption, conceive of life as it is. A man
lives, is united with a woman, engenders children, cares for them, grows
old, and dies. His life continues in his children, and so passes on from
one generation to another, like everything else in the world,--stones,
metals, earth, plants, animals, stars. Life is life, and we must make
the best of it.

To live for self alone, for the animal life, is not reasonable. And so
men, from their earliest existence, have sought for some reason for
living aside from the gratification of their own desires; they live for
their children, for their families, for their nation, for humanity, for
all that does not die with the personal life.

But according to the doctrine of the Church, human life, the supreme
good that we possess, is but a very small portion of another life of
which we are deprived for a season. Our life is not the life that God
intended to give us or such as is our due. Our life is degenerate and
fallen, a mere fragment, a mockery, compared with the real life to which
we think ourselves entitled. The principal object of life is not to try
to live this mortal life conformably to the will of the Giver of Life;
or to render it eternal in the generations, as the Hebrews believed; or
to identify ourselves with the will of God, as Jesus taught; no, it is
to believe that after this unreal life the true life will begin.

Jesus did not speak of the imaginary life that we believe to be our due,
and that God did not give to us for some unexplained reason. The theory
of the fall of Adam, of eternal life in paradise, of an immortal soul
breathed by God into Adam, was unknown to Jesus; he never spoke of it,
never made the slightest allusion to its existence. Jesus spoke of life
as it is, as it must be for all men; we speak of an imaginary life that
has never existed. How, then, can we understand the doctrine of Jesus?

Jesus did not anticipate such a singular change of view in his
disciples. He supposed that all men understood that the destruction of
the personal life is inevitable, and he revealed to them an imperishable
life. He offers true peace to them that suffer; but to those who believe
that they are certain to possess more than Jesus gives, his doctrine can
be of no value. How shall I persuade a man to toil in return for food
and clothing if this man is persuaded that he already possesses great
riches? Evidently he will pay no attention to my exhortations. So it is
with regard to the doctrine of Jesus. Why should I toil for bread when I
can be rich without labor? Why should I trouble myself to live this life
according to the will of God when I am sure of a personal life for all
eternity?

That Jesus Christ, as the second person of the Trinity, as God made
manifest in the flesh, was the salvation of men; that he took upon
himself the penalty for the sin of Adam and the sins of all men; that he
atoned to the first person of the Trinity for the sins of humanity; that
he instituted the Church and the sacraments for our salvation--believing
this, we are saved, and shall enter into the possession of personal,
eternal life beyond the grave. But meanwhile we cannot deny that he has
saved and still saves men by revealing to them their inevitable loss,
showing them that he is the way, the truth, and the life, the true way
to life instead of the false way to the personal life that men had
heretofore followed.

If there are any who doubt the life beyond the grave and salvation based
upon redemption, no one can doubt the salvation of all men, and of each
individual man, if they will accept the evidence of the destruction of
the personal life, and follow the true way to safety by bringing their
personal wills into harmony with the will of God. Let each man endowed
with reason ask himself, What is life? and What is death? and let him
try to give to life and death any other meaning than that revealed by
Jesus, and he will find that any attempt to find in life a meaning not
based upon the renunciation of self, the service of humanity, of the son
of man, is utterly futile. It cannot be doubted that the personal life
is condemned to destruction, and that a life conformable to the will of
God alone gives the possibility of salvation. It is not much in
comparison with the sublime belief in the future life! It is not much,
but it is sure.

I am lost with my companions in a snow-storm. One of them assures me
with the utmost sincerity that he sees a light in the distance, but it
is only a mirage which deceives us both; we strive to reach this light,
but we never can find it. Another resolutely brushes away the snow; he
seeks and finds the road, and he cries to us, "Go not that way, the
light you see is false, you will wander to destruction; here is the
road, I feel it beneath my feet; we are saved." It is very little, we
say. We had faith in that light that gleamed in our deluded eyes, that
told us of a refuge, a warm shelter, rest, deliverance,--and now in
exchange for it we have nothing but the road. Ah, but if we continue to
travel toward the imaginary light, we shall perish; if we follow the
road, we shall surely arrive at a haven of safety.

What, then, must I do if I alone understand the doctrine of Jesus, and I
alone have trust in it among a people who neither understand it nor obey
it? What ought I to do, to live like the rest of the world, or to live
according to the doctrine of Jesus? I understood the doctrine of Jesus
as expressed in his commandments, and I believed that the practice of
these commandments would bring happiness to me and to all men. I
understood that the fulfilment of these commandments is the will of God,
the source of life. More than this, I saw that I should die like a brute
after a farcical existence if I did not fulfil the will of God, and that
the only chance of salvation lay in the fulfilment of His will. In
following the example of the world about me, I should unquestionably act
contrary to the welfare of all men, and, above all, contrary to the will
of the Giver of Life; I should surely forfeit the sole possibility of
bettering my desperate condition. In following the doctrine of Jesus, I
should continue the work common to all men who had lived before me; I
should contribute to the welfare of my fellows, and of those who were to
live after me; I should obey the command of the Giver of Life; I should
seize upon the only hope of salvation.

The circus at Berditchef[17] is in flames. A crowd of people are
struggling before the only place of exit,--a door that opens inward.
Suddenly, in the midst of the crowd, a voice rings out: "Back, stand
back from the door; the closer you press against it, the less the chance
of escape; stand back; that is your only chance of safety!" Whether I am
alone in understanding this command, or whether others with me also hear
and understand, I have but one duty, and that is, from the moment I have
heard and understood, to fall back from the door and to call upon every
one to obey the voice of the saviour. I may be suffocated, I may be
crushed beneath the feet of the multitude, I may perish; my sole chance
of safety is to do the one thing necessary to gain an exit. And I can do
nothing else. A saviour should be a saviour, that is, one who saves. And
the salvation of Jesus is the true salvation. He came, he preached his
doctrine, and humanity is saved.

     [17] A city in Russia become famous by a recent catastrophe.

The circus may burn in an hour, and those penned up in it may have no
time to escape. But the world has been burning for eighteen hundred
years; it has burned ever since Jesus said, "_I am come to send fire on
the earth_;" and I suffer as it burns, and it will continue to burn
until humanity is saved. Was not this fire kindled that men might have
the felicity of salvation? Understanding this, I understood and believed
that Jesus is not only the Messiah, that is, the Anointed One, the
Christ, but that he is in truth the Saviour of the world. I know that he
is the only way, that there is no other way for me or for those who are
tormented with me in this life. I know, that for me as for all, there
is no other safety than the fulfilment of the commandments of Jesus, who
gave to all humanity the greatest conceivable sum of benefits.

Would there be great trials to endure? Should I die in following the
doctrine of Jesus? This question did not alarm me. It might seem
frightful to any one who does not realize the nothingness and absurdity
of an isolated personal life, and who believes that he will never die.
But I know that my life, considered in relation to my individual
happiness, is, taken by itself, a stupendous farce, and that this
meaningless existence will end in a stupid death. Knowing this, I have
nothing to fear. I shall die as others die who do not observe the
doctrine of Jesus; but my life and my death will have a meaning for
myself and for others. My life and my death will have added something to
the life and salvation of others, and this will be in accordance with
the doctrine of Jesus.




CHAPTER IX.


LET all the world practise the doctrine of Jesus, and the reign of God
will come upon earth; if I alone practise it, I shall do what I can to
better my own condition and the condition of those about me. There is no
salvation aside from the fulfilment of the doctrine of Jesus. But who
will give me the strength to practise it, to follow it without ceasing,
and never to fail? "_Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief._" The
disciples called upon Jesus to strengthen their faith. "_When I would do
good_," says the apostle Paul, "_evil is present with me_." It is hard
to work out one's salvation.

A drowning man calls for aid. A rope is thrown to him, and he says:
"Strengthen my belief that this rope will save me. I believe that the
rope will save me; but help my unbelief." What is the meaning of this?
If a man will not seize upon his only means of safety, it is plain that
he does not understand his condition.

How can a Christian who professes to believe in the divinity of Jesus
and of his doctrine, whatever may be the meaning that he attaches
thereto, say that he wishes to believe, and that he cannot believe? God
comes upon earth, and says, "Fire, torments, eternal darkness await you;
and here is your salvation--fulfil my doctrine." It is not possible
that a believing Christian should not believe and profit by the
salvation thus offered to him; it is not possible that he should say,
"Help my unbelief." If a man says this, he not only does not believe in
his perdition, but he must be certain that he shall not perish.

A number of children have fallen from a boat into the water. For an
instant their clothes and their feeble struggles keep them on the
surface of the stream, and they do not realize their danger. Those in
the boat throw out a rope. They warn the children against their peril,
and urge them to grasp the rope (the parables of the woman and the piece
of silver, the shepherd and the lost sheep, the marriage feast, the
prodigal son, all have this meaning), but the children do not believe;
they refuse to believe, not in the rope, but that they are in danger of
drowning. Children as frivolous as themselves have assured them that
they can continue to float gaily along even when the boat is far away.
The children do not believe; but when their clothes are saturated, the
strength of their little arms exhausted, they will sink and perish. This
they do not believe, and so they do not believe in the rope of safety.

Just as the children in the water will not grasp the rope that is thrown
to them, persuaded that they will not perish, so men who believe in the
resurrection of the soul, convinced that there is no danger, do not
practise the commandments of Jesus. They do not believe in what is
certain, simply because they do believe in what is uncertain. It is for
this cause they cry, "Lord, strengthen our faith, lest we perish." But
this is impossible. To have the faith that will save them from
perishing, they must cease to do what will lead them to perdition, and
they must begin to do something for their own safety; they must grasp
the rope of safety. Now this is exactly what they do not wish to do;
they wish to persuade themselves that they will not perish, although
they see their comrades perishing one after another before their very
eyes. They wish to persuade themselves of the truth of what does not
exist, and so they ask to be strengthened in faith. It is plain that
they have not enough faith, and they wish for more.

When I understood the doctrine of Jesus, I saw that what these men call
faith is the faith denounced by the apostle James:[18]--

     [18] The epistle of James was for a long time rejected by the
     Church, and when accepted, was subjected to various alterations:
     certain words are omitted, others are transposed, or translated in
     an arbitrary way. I have restored the defective passages after the
     text authorized by Tischendorf.

"_What doth it profit, my brethren, if a man believe he hath faith, but
hath not works? can that faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked
and in lack of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Go in peace, be
ye warmed and filled; and yet ye give them not the things needful to the
body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it have not works, is dead
in itself. But some one will say, Thou hast faith, and I have works:
Shew me thy faith which is without works, and I, by my works, will show
thee my faith. Thou believest there is one God; thou doest well: the
demons also believe, and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that
faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by
works when he offered up Isaac his son upon the altar? Thou seest that
faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect.... Ye
see that by works a man is justified, and not only by faith.... For as
the body without the spirit is dead, so faith is dead without works._"
(James ii. 14-26.)

James says that the indication of faith is the acts that it inspires,
and consequently that a faith which does not result in acts is of words
merely, with which one cannot feed the hungry, or justify belief, or
obtain salvation. A faith without acts is not faith. It is only a
disposition to believe in something, a vain affirmation of belief in
something in which one does not really believe. Faith, as the apostle
James defines it, is the motive power of actions, and actions are a
manifestation of faith.

The Jews said to Jesus: "_What signs shewest thou then, that we may see,
and believe thee? what dost thou work?_" (John vi. 30. See also Mark xv.
32; Matt. xxvii. 42). Jesus told them that their desire was vain, and
that they could not be made to believe what they did not believe. "_If I
tell you,_" he said, "_ye will not believe_" (Luke xxii. 67); "_I told
you, and ye believed not.... But ye believe not because ye are not of my
sheep_" (John x. 25, 26).

The Jews asked exactly what is asked by Christians brought up in the
Church; they asked for some outward sign which should make them believe
in the doctrine of Jesus. Jesus explained that this was impossible, and
he told them why it was impossible. He told them that they could not
believe because they were not of his sheep; that is, they did not follow
the road he had pointed out. He explained why some believed, and why
others did not believe, and he told them what faith really was. He said:
"_How can ye believe which receive your doctrine_ ([Greek: doxa][19])
_one of another, and seek not the doctrine that cometh only from God?_"
(John v. 44).

     [19] Here, as in other passages, [Greek: doxa] has been incorrectly
     translated "honor"; [Greek: doxa], from the verb [Greek: dokeô],
     means "manner of seeing, judgment, _doctrine_."

To believe, Jesus says, we must seek for the doctrine that comes from
God alone.

"_He that speaketh of himself seeketh_ (to extend) _his own doctrine,
[Greek: doxan tên idian], but he that seeketh_ (to extend) _the doctrine
of him that sent him, the same is true, and no untruth is in him._"
(John vii. 18.)

The doctrine of life, [Greek: doxa], is the foundation of faith, and
actions result spontaneously from faith. But there are two doctrines of
life: Jesus denies the one and affirms the other. One of these
doctrines, a source of all error, consists of the idea that the personal
life is one of the essential and real attributes of man. This doctrine
has been followed, and is still followed, by the majority of men; it is
the source of divergent beliefs and acts. The other doctrine, taught by
Jesus and by all the prophets, affirms that our personal life has no
meaning save through fulfilment of the will of God. If a man confess a
doctrine that emphasizes his own personal life, he will consider that
his personal welfare is the most important thing in the world, and he
will consider riches, honors, glory, pleasure, as true sources of
happiness; he will have a faith in accordance with his inclination, and
his acts will always be in harmony with his faith. If a man confess a
different doctrine, if he find the essence of life in fulfilment of the
will of God in accordance with the example of Abraham and the teaching
and example of Jesus, his faith will accord with his principles, and his
acts will be conformable to his faith. And so those who believe that
true happiness is to be found in the personal life can never have faith
in the doctrine of Jesus. All their efforts to fix their faith upon it
will be always vain. To believe in the doctrine of Jesus, they must look
at life in an entirely different way. Their actions will coincide always
with their faith and not with their intentions and their words.

In men who demand of Jesus that he shall work miracles we may recognize
a desire to believe in his doctrine; but this desire never can be
realized in life, however arduous the efforts to obtain it. In vain they
pray, and observe the sacraments, and give in charity, and build
churches, and convert others; they cannot follow the example of Jesus
because their acts are inspired by a faith based upon an entirely
different doctrine from that which they confess. They could not
sacrifice an only son as Abraham was ready to do, although Abraham had
no hesitation whatever as to what he should do, just as Jesus and his
disciples were moved to give their lives for others, because such action
alone constituted for them the true meaning of life. This incapacity to
understand the substance of faith explains the strange moral state of
men, who, acknowledging that they ought to live in accordance with the
doctrine of Jesus, endeavor to live in opposition to this doctrine,
conformably to their belief that the personal life is a sovereign good.

The basis of faith is the meaning that we derive from life, the meaning
that determines whether we look upon life as important and good, or
trivial and corrupt. Faith is the appreciation of good and of evil. Men
with a faith based upon their own doctrines do not succeed at all in
harmonizing this faith with the faith inspired by the doctrine of Jesus;
and so it was with the early disciples. This misapprehension is
frequently referred to in the Gospels in clear and decisive terms.
Several times the disciples asked Jesus to strengthen their faith in his
words (Matt. xx. 20-28; Mark x. 35-48). After the message, so terrible
to every man who believes in the personal life and who seeks his
happiness in the riches of this world, after the words, "_How hardly
shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God_," and after
words still more terrible for men who believe only in the personal life,
"_Sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the poor_;" after these warning
words Peter asked, "_Behold, we have forsaken all and followed thee;
what shall we have therefore?_" Then James and John and, according to
the Gospel of Matthew, their mother, asked him that they might be
allowed to sit with him in glory. They asked Jesus to strengthen their
faith with a promise of future recompense. To Peter's question Jesus
replied with a parable (Matt. xx. 1-16); to James he replied that they
did not know what they asked; that they asked what was impossible; that
they did not understand the doctrine, which meant a renunciation of the
personal life, while they demanded personal glory, a personal
recompense; that they should drink the cup he drank of (that is, live as
he lived), but to sit upon his right hand and upon his left was not his
to give. And Jesus added that the great of this world had their profit
and enjoyment of glory and personal power only in the worldly life; but
that his disciples ought to know that the true meaning of human life is
not in personal happiness, but in ministering to others; "_the son of
man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his
life a ransom for many_." In reply to the unreasonable demands which
revealed their slowness to understand his doctrine, Jesus did not
command his disciples to have faith in his doctrine, that is, to modify
the ideas inspired by their own doctrine (he knew that to be
impossible), but he explained to them the meaning of that life which is
the basis of true faith, that is, taught them how to discern good from
evil, the important from the secondary.

To Peter's question, "_What shall we receive?_" Jesus replies with the
parable of the laborers in the vineyard (Matt. xx. 1-16), beginning with
the words "_For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a
householder_," and by this means Jesus explains to Peter that failure to
understand the doctrine is the cause of lack of faith; and that
remuneration in proportion to the amount of work done is important only
from the point of view of the personal life.

This faith is based upon the presumption of certain imaginary rights;
but a man has a right to nothing; he is under obligations for the good
he has received, and so he can exact nothing. Even if he were to give up
his whole life to the service of others, he could not pay the debt he
has incurred, and so he cannot complain of injustice. If a man sets a
value upon his rights to life, if he keeps a reckoning with the
Overruling Power from whom he has received life, he proves simply that
he does not understand the meaning of life. Men who have received a
benefit act far otherwise. The laborers employed in the vineyard were
found by the householder idle and unhappy; they did not possess life in
the proper meaning of the term. And then the householder gave them the
supreme welfare of life,--work. They accepted the benefits offered, and
were discontented because their remuneration was not graduated according
to their imaginary deserts. They did the work, believing in their false
doctrine of life and work as a right, and consequently with an idea of
the remuneration to which they were entitled. They did not understand
that work is the supreme good, and that they should be thankful for the
opportunity to work, instead of exacting payment. And so all men who
look upon life as these laborers looked upon it, never can possess true
faith. This parable of the laborers, related by Jesus in response to the
request by his disciples that he strengthen their faith, shows more
clearly than ever the basis of the faith that Jesus taught.

When Jesus told his disciples that they must forgive a brother who
trespassed against them not only once, but seventy times seven times,
the disciples were overwhelmed at the difficulty of observing this
injunction, and said, "_Increase our faith_," just as a little while
before they had asked, "_What shall we receive?_" Now they uttered the
language of would-be Christians: "We wish to believe, but cannot;
strengthen our faith that we may be saved; make us believe" (as the Jews
said to Jesus when they demanded miracles); "either by miracles or
promises of recompense, make us to have faith in our salvation."

The disciples said what we all say: "How pleasant it would be if we
could live our selfish life, and at the same time believe that it is far
better to practise the doctrine of God by living for others." This
disposition of mind is common to us all; it is contrary to the meaning
of the doctrine of Jesus, and yet we are astonished at our lack of
faith. Jesus disposed of this misapprehension by means of a parable
illustrating true faith. Faith cannot come of confidence in his words;
faith can come only of a consciousness of our condition; faith is based
only upon the dictates of reason as to what is best to do in a given
situation. He showed that this faith cannot be awakened in others by
promises of recompense or threats of punishment, which can only arouse a
feeble confidence that will fail at the first trial; but that the faith
which removes mountains, the faith that nothing can shatter, is inspired
by the consciousness of our inevitable loss if we do not profit by the
salvation that is offered.

To have faith, we must not count on any promise of recompense; we must
understand that the only way of escape from a ruined life is a life
conformable to the will of the Master. He who understands this will not
ask to be strengthened in his faith, but will work out his salvation
without the need of any exhortation. The householder, when he comes from
the fields with his workman, does not ask the latter to sit down at once
to dinner, but directs him to attend first to other duties and to wait
upon him, the master, and then to take his place at the table and dine.
This the workman does without any sense of being wronged; he does not
boast of his labor nor does he demand recognition or recompense, for he
knows that labor is the inevitable condition of his existence and the
true welfare of his life. So Jesus says that when we have done all that
we are commanded to do, we have only fulfilled our duty. He who
understands his relations to his master will understand that he has life
only as he obeys the master's will; he will know in what his welfare
consists, and he will have a faith that does not demand the impossible.
This is the faith taught by Jesus, which has for its foundation a
thorough perception of the true meaning of life. The source of faith is
light:--

"_That was the true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the
world. He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world
knew him not. He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as
many as received him, to them gave he the right to become the children
of God, even to them that believe on his name._" (John i. 9-12.)

"_And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and
men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For
every one that doeth ill hateth the light, and cometh not to the light,
lest his works should be reproved. But he that doeth the truth cometh to
the light, that his works may be made manifest, because they have been
wrought in God._" (John iii. 19-21.)

He who understands the doctrine of Jesus will not ask to be strengthened
in his faith. The doctrine of Jesus teaches that faith is inspired by
the light of truth. Jesus never asked men to have faith in his person;
he called upon them to have faith in truth. To the Jews he said:--

"_Ye seek to kill me, a man that hath told you the truth which I have
heard of God._" (John viii. 40.)

"_Which of you convicteth me of sin? If I say truth, why do ye not
believe me?_" (John viii. 46.)

"_To this end have I been born, and to this end am I come into the
world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of
the truth heareth my voice._" (John xviii. 37.)

To his disciples he said:--

"_I am the way, and the truth, and the life._" (John xiv. 6.)

"_The Father ... shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with
you forever, even the Spirit of truth: whom the world cannot receive;
for it beholdeth him not, neither knoweth him: ye know him; for he
abideth with you, and shall be in you._" (John xiv. 16, 17.)

Jesus' doctrine, then, is truth, and he himself is truth. The doctrine
of Jesus is the doctrine of truth. Faith in Jesus is not belief in a
system based upon his personality, but a consciousness of truth. No one
can be persuaded to believe in the doctrine of Jesus, nor can any one be
stimulated by any promised reward to practise it. He who understands the
doctrine of Jesus will have faith in him, because this doctrine is true.
He who knows the truth indispensable to his happiness must believe in
it, just as a man who knows that he is drowning grasps the rope of
safety. Thus, the question, What must I do to believe? is an indication
that he who asks it does not understand the doctrine of Jesus.




CHAPTER X.


WE say, It is difficult to live according to the doctrine of Jesus! And
why should it not be difficult, when by our organization of life we
carefully hide from ourselves our true situation; when we endeavor to
persuade ourselves that our situation is not at all what it is, but that
it is something else? We call this faith, and regarding it as sacred, we
endeavor by all possible means, by threats, by flattery, by falsehood,
by stimulating the emotions, to attract men to its support. In this mad
determination to believe what is contrary to sense and reason, we reach
such a degree of aberration that we are ready to take as an indication
of truth the very absurdity of the object in whose behalf we solicit the
confidence of men. Are there not Christians who are ready to declare
with enthusiasm "Credo quia absurdum," supposing that the absurd is the
best medium for teaching men the truth? Not long ago a man of
intelligence and great learning said to me that the Christian doctrine
had no importance as a moral rule of life. Morality, he said, must be
sought in the teachings of the Stoics and the Brahmins, and in the
Talmud. The essence of the Christian doctrine is not in morality, he
said, but in the theosophical doctrine propounded in its dogmas.
According to this I ought to prize in the Christian doctrine not what it
contains of eternal good to humanity, not its teachings indispensable to
a reasonable life; I ought to regard as the most important element of
Christianity that portion of it which it is impossible to understand,
and therefore useless,--and this in the name of thousands of men who
have perished for their faith.

We have a false conception of life, a conception based upon wrong doing
and inspired by selfish passions, and we consider our faith in this
false conception (which we have in some way attached to the doctrine of
Jesus), as the most important and necessary thing with which we are
concerned. If men had not for centuries maintained faith in what is
untrue, this false conception of life, as well as the truth of the
doctrine of Jesus, would long ago have been revealed.

It is a terrible thing to say, but it seems to me that if the doctrine
of Jesus, and that of the Church which has been foisted upon it, had
never existed, those who to-day call themselves Christians would be much
nearer than they are to the truth of the doctrine of Jesus; that is, to
the reasonable doctrine which teaches the true meaning of life. The
moral doctrines of all the prophets of the world would not then be
closed to them. They would have their little ideas of truth, and would
regard them with confidence. Now, all truth is revealed, and this truth
has so horrified those whose manner of life it condemned, that they
have disguised it in falsehood, and men have lost confidence in the
truth.

In our European society, the words of Jesus, "_To this end I am come
into the world, that I shall bear witness unto the truth. Every one that
is of the truth heareth my voice_,"--have been for a long time
supplanted by Pilate's question, "_What is truth?_" This question,
quoted as a bitter and profound irony against a Roman, we have taken as
of serious purport, and have made of it an article of faith.

With us, all men live not only without truth, not only without the least
desire to know truth, but with the firm conviction that, among all
useless occupations, the most useless is the endeavor to find the truth
that governs human life. The rule of life, the doctrine that all
peoples, excepting our European societies, have always considered as the
most important thing, the rule of which Jesus spoke as the one thing
needful, is an object of universal disdain. An institution called the
Church, in which no one, not even if he belong to it, really believes,
has for a long time usurped the place of this rule.

The only source of light for those who think and suffer is hidden. For a
solution of the questions, What am I? what ought I to do? I am not
allowed to depend upon the doctrine of him who came to save; I am told
to obey the authorities, and believe in the Church. But why is life so
full of evil? Why so much wrong-doing? May I not abstain from taking
part therein? Is it impossible to lighten this heavy load that weighs me
down? The reply is that this is impossible, that the desire to live
well and to help others to live well is only a temptation of pride; that
one thing is possible,--to save one's soul for the future life. He who
is not willing to take part in this miserable life may keep aloof from
it; this way is open to all; but, says the doctrine of the Church, he
who chooses this way can take no part in the life of the world; he
ceases to live. Our masters tell us that there are only two ways,--to
believe in and obey the powers that be, to participate in the organized
evil about us, or to forsake the world and take refuge in convent or
monastery; to take part in the offices of the Church, doing nothing for
men, and declaring the doctrine of Jesus impossible to practise,
accepting the iniquity of life sanctioned by the Church, or to renounce
life for what is equivalent to slow suicide.

However surprising the belief that the doctrine of Jesus is excellent,
but impossible of practice, there is a still more surprising tradition
that he who wishes to practise this doctrine, not in word, but in deed,
must retire from the world. This erroneous belief that it is better for
a man to retire from the world than to expose himself to temptations,
existed amongst the Hebrews of old, but is entirely foreign, not only to
the spirit of Christianity, but to that of the Jewish religion. The
charming and significant story of the prophet Jonah, which Jesus so
loved to quote, was written in regard to this very error. The prophet
Jonah, wishing to remain upright and virtuous, retires from the perverse
companionship of men. But God shows him that as a prophet he ought to
communicate to misguided men a knowledge of the truth, and so ought not
to fly from men, but ought rather to live in communion with them. Jonah,
disgusted with the depravity of the inhabitants of Nineveh, flies from
the city; but he cannot escape his vocation. He is brought back, and the
will of God is accomplished; the Ninevites receive the words of Jonah
and are saved. Instead of rejoicing that he has been made the instrument
of God's will, Jonah is angry, and condemns God for the mercy shown the
Ninevites, arrogating to himself alone the exercise of reason and
goodness. He goes out into the desert and makes him a shelter, whence he
addresses his reproaches to God. Then a gourd comes up over Jonah and
protects him from the sun, but the next day it withers. Jonah, smitten
by the heat, reproaches God anew for allowing the gourd to wither. Then
God says to him:--

"_Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not labored,
neither madest it grow; which came up in a night, and perished in a
night: and should I not have pity on Nineveh, that great city; wherein
are more than six score thousand persons that cannot discern between
their right hand and their left hand?_"

Jesus knew this story, and often referred to it. In the Gospels we find
it related how Jesus, after the interview with John, who had retired
into the desert, was himself subjected to the same temptation before
beginning his mission. He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness,
and there tempted by the Devil (error), over which he triumphed and
returned to Galilee. Thereafter he mingled with the most depraved men,
and passed his life among publicans, Pharisees, and fishermen, teaching
them the truth.[20]

     [20] Jesus is led into the desert to be tempted of error. Error
     suggests to Jesus that he is not the Son of God if he cannot make
     stones into bread. Jesus replies that he lives, not by bread alone,
     but by the word of God. Then Error says that if he lives by the
     word or spirit of God, the flesh may be destroyed, but the spirit
     will not perish. Jesus' reply is that life in the flesh is the will
     of God; to destroy the flesh is to act contrary to the will of God,
     to tempt God. Error then suggests that if this be true, he should,
     like the rest of the world, place himself at the service of the
     flesh, and the flesh will give him satisfaction. Jesus' reply is
     that he can serve God only because the true life is spiritual, and
     has been placed in the flesh by the will of God. Jesus then leaves
     the desert and returns to the world. (Matt. iv. 1-11; Luke iv.
     1-13.)

Even according to the doctrine of the Church, Jesus, as God in man, has
given us the example of his life. All of his life that is known to us
was passed in the company of publicans, of the downfallen, and of
Pharisees. The principal commandments of Jesus are that his followers
shall love others and spread his doctrine. Both exact constant communion
with the world. And yet the deduction is made that the doctrine of Jesus
permits retirement from the world. That is, to imitate Jesus we may do
exactly contrary to what he taught and did himself.

As the Church explains it, the doctrine of Jesus offers itself to men of
the world and to dwellers in monasteries, not as a rule of life for
bettering one's own condition and the condition of others, but as a
doctrine which teaches the man of the world how to live an evil life and
at the same time gain for himself another life, and the monk how to
render existence still more difficult than it naturally is. But Jesus
did not teach this. Jesus taught the truth, and if metaphysical truth is
the truth, it will remain such in practice. If life in God is the only
true life, and is in itself profitable, then it is so here in this world
in spite of all that may happen. If in this world a life in accordance
with the doctrine of Jesus is not profitable, his doctrine cannot be
true.

Jesus did not ask us to pass from better to worse, but, on the contrary,
from worse to better. He had pity upon men, who to him were like sheep
without a shepherd. He said that his disciples would be persecuted for
his doctrine, and that they must bear the persecutions of the world with
resolution. But he did not say that those who followed his doctrine
would suffer more than those who followed the world's doctrine; on the
contrary, he said that those who followed the world's doctrine would be
wretched, and that those who followed his doctrine would have joy and
peace. Jesus did not teach salvation by faith in asceticism or voluntary
torture, but he taught us a way of life which, while saving us from the
emptiness of the personal life, would give us less of suffering and more
of joy. Jesus told men that in practising his doctrine among unbelievers
they would be, not more unhappy, but, on the contrary, much more happy,
than those who did not practise it. There was, he said, one infallible
rule, and that was to have no care about the worldly life. When Peter
said to Jesus, "_We have forsaken all, and followed thee; what then
shall we have?_" Jesus replied:--

"_There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or
mother, or father, or children, or lands, for my sake, and for the
gospel's sake, but he shall receive a hundred fold more in this time,
houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands,
with persecutions; and in the age to come eternal life._" (Mark x.
28-30.)

Jesus declared, it is true, that those who follow his doctrine must
expect to be persecuted by those who do not follow it, but he did not
say that his disciples will be the worse off for that reason; on the
contrary, he said that his disciples would have, here, in this world,
more benefits than those who did not follow him. That Jesus said and
thought this is beyond a doubt, as the clearness of his words on this
subject, the meaning of his entire doctrine, his life and the life of
his disciples, plainly show. But was his teaching in this respect true?

When we examine the question as to which of the two conditions would be
the better, that of the disciples of Jesus or that of the disciples of
the world, we are obliged to conclude that the condition of the
disciples of Jesus ought to be the most desirable, since the disciples
of Jesus, in doing good to every one, would not arouse the hatred of
men. The disciples of Jesus, doing evil to no one, would be persecuted
only by the wicked. The disciples of the world, on the contrary, are
likely to be persecuted by every one, since the law of the disciples of
the world is the law of each for himself, the law of struggle; that is,
of mutual persecution. Moreover, the disciples of Jesus would be
prepared for suffering, while the disciples of the world use all
possible means to avoid suffering; the disciples of Jesus would feel
that their sufferings were useful to the world; but the disciples of the
world do not know why they suffer. On abstract grounds, then, the
condition of the disciples of Jesus would be more advantageous than that
of the disciples of the world. But is it so in reality? To answer this,
let each one call to mind all the painful moments of his life, all the
physical and moral sufferings that he has endured, and let him ask
himself if he has suffered these calamities in behalf of the doctrine of
the world or in behalf of the doctrine of Jesus. Every sincere man will
find in recalling his past life that he has never once suffered for
practising the doctrine of Jesus. He will find that the greater part of
the misfortunes of his life have resulted from following the doctrines
of the world. In my own life (an exceptionally happy one from a worldly
point of view) I can reckon up as much suffering caused by following the
doctrine of the world as many a martyr has endured for the doctrine of
Jesus. All the most painful moments of my life,--the orgies and duels
in which I took part as a student, the wars in which I have
participated, the diseases that I have endured, and the abnormal and
insupportable conditions under which I now live,--all these are only so
much martyrdom exacted by fidelity to the doctrine of the world. But I
speak of a life exceptionally happy from a worldly point of view. How
many martyrs have suffered for the doctrine of the world torments that I
should find difficulty in enumerating!

We do not realize the difficulties and dangers entailed by the practice
of the doctrine of the world, simply because we are persuaded that we
could not do otherwise than follow that doctrine. We are persuaded that
all the calamities that we inflict upon ourselves are the result of the
inevitable conditions of life, and we cannot understand that the
doctrine of Jesus teaches us how we may rid ourselves of these
calamities and render our lives happy. To be able to reply to the
question, Which of these two conditions is the happier? we must, at
least for the time being, put aside our prejudices and take a careful
survey of our surroundings.

Go through our great cities and observe the emaciated, sickly, and
distorted specimens of humanity to be found therein; recall your own
existence and that of all the people with whose lives you are familiar;
recall the instances of violent deaths and suicides of which you have
heard,--and then ask yourself for what cause all this suffering and
death, this despair that leads to suicide, has been endured. You will
find, perhaps to your surprise, that nine-tenths of all human suffering
endured by men is useless, and ought not to exist, that, in fact, the
majority of men are martyrs to the doctrine of the world.

One rainy autumn day I rode on the tramway by the Sukhareff Tower in
Moscow. For the distance of half a verst the vehicle forced its way
through a compact crowd which quickly reformed its ranks. From morning
till night these thousands of men, the greater portion of them starving
and in rags, tramped angrily through the mud, venting their hatred in
abusive epithets and acts of violence. The same sight may be seen in all
the market-places of Moscow. At sunset these people go to the taverns
and gaming-houses; their nights are passed in filth and wretchedness.
Think of the lives of these people, of what they abandon through choice
for their present condition; think of the heavy burden of labor without
reward which weighs upon these men and women, and you will see that they
are true martyrs. All these people have forsaken houses, lands, parents,
wives, and children; they have renounced all the comforts of life, and
they have come to the cities to acquire that which according to the
gospel of the world is indispensable to every one. And all these tens of
thousands of unhappy people sleep in hovels, and subsist upon strong
drink and wretched food. But aside from this class, all, from factory
workman, cab-driver, sewing girl, and lorette, to merchant and
government official, all endure the most painful and abnormal
conditions without being able to acquire what, according to the doctrine
of the world, is indispensable to each.

Seek among all these men, from beggar to millionaire, one who is
contented with his lot, and you will not find one such in a thousand.
Each one spends his strength in pursuit of what is exacted by the
doctrine of the world, and of what he is unhappy not to possess, and
scarcely has he obtained one object of his desires when he strives for
another, and still another, in that infinite labor of Sisyphus which
destroys the lives of men. Run over the scale of individual fortunes,
ranging from a yearly income of three hundred roubles to fifty thousand
roubles, and you will rarely find a person who is not striving to gain
four hundred roubles if he have three hundred, five hundred if he have
four hundred, and so on to the top of the ladder. Among them all you
will scarcely find one who, with five hundred roubles, is willing to
adopt the mode of life of him who has only four hundred. When such an
instance does occur, it is not inspired by a desire to make life more
simple, but to amass money and make it more sure. Each strives
continually to make the heavy burden of existence still more heavy, by
giving himself up body and soul to the practice of the doctrine of the
world. To-day we must buy an overcoat and galoches, to-morrow, a watch
and chain; the next day we must install ourselves in an apartment with a
sofa and a bronze lamp; then we must have carpets and velvet gowns;
then a house, horses and carriages, paintings and decorations, and
then--then we fall ill of overwork and die. Another continues the same
task, sacrifices his life to this same Moloch, and then dies also,
without realizing for what he has lived.

But possibly this existence is in itself attractive? Compare it with
what men have always called happiness, and you will see that it is
hideous. For what, according to the general estimate, are the principal
conditions of earthly happiness? One of the first conditions of
happiness is that the link between man and nature shall not be severed,
that is, that he shall be able to see the sky above him, and that he
shall be able to enjoy the sunshine, the pure air, the fields with their
verdure, their multitudinous life. Men have always regarded it as a
great unhappiness to be deprived of all these things. But what is the
condition of those men who live according to the doctrine of the world?
The greater their success in practising the doctrine of the world, the
more they are deprived of these conditions of happiness. The greater
their worldly success, the less they are able to enjoy the light of the
sun, the freshness of the fields and woods, and all the delights of
country life. Many of them--including nearly all the women--arrive at
old age without having seen the sun rise or the beauties of the early
morning, without having seen a forest except from a seat in a carriage,
without ever having planted a field or a garden, and without having the
least idea as to the ways and habits of dumb animals.

These people, surrounded by artificial light instead of sunshine, look
only upon fabrics of tapestry and stone and wood fashioned by the hand
of man; the roar of machinery, the roll of vehicles, the thunder of
cannon, the sound of musical instruments, are always in their ears; they
breathe an atmosphere heavy with distilled perfumes and tobacco smoke;
because of the weakness of their stomachs and their depraved tastes they
eat rich and highly spiced food. When they move about from place to
place, they travel in closed carriages. When they go into the country,
they have the same fabrics beneath their feet; the same draperies shut
out the sunshine; and the same array of servants cut off all
communication with the men, the earth, the vegetation, and the animals
about them. Wherever they go, they are like so many captives shut out
from the conditions of happiness. As prisoners sometimes console
themselves with a blade of grass that forces its way through the
pavement of their prison yard, or make pets of a spider or a mouse, so
these people sometimes amuse themselves with sickly plants, a parrot, a
poodle, or a monkey, to whose needs however they do not themselves
administer.

Another inevitable condition of happiness is work: first, the
intellectual labor that one is free to choose and loves; secondly, the
exercise of physical power that brings a good appetite and tranquil and
profound sleep. Here, again, the greater the imagined prosperity that
falls to the lot of men according to the doctrine of the world, the more
such men are deprived of this condition of happiness. All the prosperous
people of the world, the men of dignity and wealth, are as completely
deprived of the advantages of work as if they were shut up in solitary
confinement. They struggle unsuccessfully with the diseases caused by
the need of physical exercise, and with the ennui which pursues
them--unsuccessfully, because labor is a pleasure only when it is
necessary, and they have need of nothing; or they undertake work that is
odious to them, like the bankers, solicitors, administrators, and
government officials, and their wives, who plan receptions and routs and
devise toilettes for themselves and their children. (I say odious,
because I never yet met any person of this class who was contented with
his work or took as much satisfaction in it as the porter feels in
shovelling away the snow from before their doorsteps.) All these
favorites of fortune are either deprived of work or are obliged to work
at what they do not like, after the manner of criminals condemned to
hard labor.

The third undoubted condition of happiness is the family. But the more
men are enslaved by worldly success, the more certainly are they cut off
from domestic pleasures. The majority of them are libertines, who
deliberately renounce the joys of family life and retain only its cares.
If they are not libertines, their children, instead of being a source
of pleasure, are a burden, and all possible means are employed to render
marriage unfruitful. If they have children, they make no effort to
cultivate the pleasures of companionship with them. They leave their
children almost continually to the care of strangers, confiding them
first to the instruction of persons who are usually foreigners, and then
sending them to public educational institutions, so that of family life
they have only the sorrows, and the children from infancy are as unhappy
as their parents and wish their parents dead that they may become the
heirs.[21] These people are not confined in prisons, but the
consequences of their way of living with regard to the family are more
melancholy than the deprivation from the domestic relations inflicted
upon those who are kept in confinement under sentence of the law.

     [21] The justification of this existence made by parents is very
     curious. "I need nothing for myself," the father says; "this way of
     living is very distasteful to me; but, because of affection for my
     children, I endure its burdens." In plain terms his argument would
     be: "I know by experience that my way of living is a source of
     unhappiness, consequently I am training my children to the same
     unhappy method of existence. For love of them, I bring them into a
     city permeated with physical and moral miasma; I give them into the
     care of strangers, who regard the education of the young as a
     lucrative enterprise; I surround my children with physical, moral,
     and intellectual corruption." And this reasoning must serve as a
     justification of the absurd existence led by the parents
     themselves.

The fourth condition of happiness is sympathetic and unrestricted
intercourse with all classes of men. And the higher a man is placed in
the social scale, the more certainly is he deprived of this essential
condition of happiness. The higher he goes, the narrower becomes his
circle of associates; the lower sinks the moral and intellectual level
of those to whose companionship he is restrained.

The peasant and his wife are free to enter into friendly relations with
every one, and if a million men will have nothing to do with them, there
remain eighty millions of people with whom they may fraternize, from
Archangel to Astrakhan, without waiting for a ceremonious visit or an
introduction. A clerk and his wife will find hundreds of people who are
their equals; but the clerks of a higher rank will not admit them to a
footing of social equality, and they, in their turn, are excluded by
others. The wealthy man of the world reckons by dozens the families with
whom he is willing to maintain social ties--all the rest of the world
are strangers. For the cabinet minister and the millionaire there are
only a dozen people as rich and as important as themselves. For kings
and emperors, the circle is still more narrow. Is not the whole system
like a great prison where each inmate is restricted to association with
a few fellow-convicts?

Finally, the fifth condition of happiness is bodily health. And once
more we find that as we ascend the social scale this condition of
happiness is less and less within the reach of the followers of the
doctrine of the world. Compare a family of medium social status with a
family of peasants. The latter toil unremittingly and are robust of
body; the former is made up of men and women more or less subject to
disease. Recall to mind the rich men and women whom you have known; are
not most of them invalids? A person of that class whose physical
disabilities do not oblige him to take a periodical course of hygienic
and medical treatment is as rare as is an invalid among the laboring
classes. All these favorites of fortune are the victims and
practitioners of sexual vices that have become a second nature, and they
are toothless, gray, and bald at an age when a workingman is in the
prime of manhood. Nearly all are afflicted with nervous or other
diseases arising from excesses in eating, drunkenness, luxury, and
perpetual medication. Those who do not die young, pass half of their
lives under the influence of morphine or other drugs, as melancholy
wrecks of humanity incapable of self-attention, leading a parasitic
existence like that of a certain species of ants which are nourished by
their slaves. Here is the death list. One has blown out his brains,
another has rotted away from the effects of syphilitic poison; this old
man succumbed to sexual excesses, this young man to a wild outburst of
sensuality; one died of drunkenness, another of gluttony, another from
the abuse of morphine, another from an induced abortion. One after
another they perished, victims of the doctrine of the world. And a
multitude presses on behind them, like an army of martyrs, to undergo
the same sufferings, the same perdition.

To follow the doctrine of Jesus is difficult! Jesus said that they who
would forsake houses, and lands, and brethren, and follow his doctrine
should receive a hundred-fold in houses, and lands, and brethren, and
besides all this, eternal life. And no one is willing even to make the
experiment. The doctrine of the world commands its followers to leave
houses, and lands, and brethren; to forsake the country for the filth of
the city, there to toil as a bath-keeper soaping the backs of others; as
an apprentice in a little underground shop passing life in counting
kopecks; as a prosecuting attorney to serve in bringing unhappy wretches
under condemnation of the law; as a cabinet minister, perpetually
signing documents of no importance; as the head of an army, killing
men.--"Forsake all and live this hideous life ending in a cruel death,
and you shall receive nothing in this world or the other," is the
command, and every one listens and obeys. Jesus tells us to take up the
cross and follow him, to bear submissively the lot apportioned out to
us. No one hears his words or follows his command. But let a man in a
uniform decked out with gold lace, a man whose speciality is to kill his
fellows, say, "Take, not your cross, but your knapsack and carbine, and
march to suffering and certain death,"--and a mighty host is ready to
receive his orders. Leaving parents, wives, and children, clad in
grotesque costumes, subject to the will of the first comer of a higher
rank, famished, benumbed, and exhausted by forced marches, they go, like
a herd of cattle to the slaughter-house, not knowing where,--and yet
these are not cattle, they are men.

With despair in their hearts they move on, to die of hunger, or cold, or
disease, or, if they survive, to be brought within range of a storm of
bullets and commanded to kill. They kill and are killed, none of them
knows why or to what end. An ambitious stripling has only to brandish
his sword and shout a few magniloquent words to induce them to rush to
certain death. And yet no one finds this to be difficult. Neither the
victims, nor those whom they have forsaken, find anything difficult in
such sacrifices, in which parents encourage their children to take part.
It seems to them not only that such things should be, but that they
could not be otherwise, and that they are altogether admirable and
moral.

If the practice of the doctrine of the world were easy, agreeable, and
without danger, we might perhaps believe that the practice of the
doctrine of Jesus is difficult, frightful, and cruel. But the doctrine
of the world is much more difficult, more dangerous, and more cruel,
than is the doctrine of Jesus. Formerly, we are told, there were martyrs
for the cause of Jesus; but they were exceptional. We cannot count up
more than about three hundred and eighty thousand of them, voluntary and
involuntary, in the whole course of eighteen hundred years; but who
shall count the martyrs to the doctrine of the world? For each Christian
martyr there have been a thousand martyrs to the doctrine of the world,
and the sufferings of each one of them have been a hundred times more
cruel than those endured by the others. The number of the victims of
wars in our century alone amounts to thirty millions of men. These are
the martyrs to the doctrine of the world, who would have escaped
suffering and death even if they had refused to follow the doctrine of
the world, to say nothing of following the doctrine of Jesus.

If a man will cease to have faith in the doctrine of the world and not
think it indispensable to wear varnished boots and a gold chain, to
maintain a useless salon, or to do the various other foolish things the
doctrine of the world demands, he will never know the effects of
brutalizing occupations, of unlimited suffering, of the anxieties of a
perpetual struggle; he will remain in communion with nature; he will be
deprived neither of the work he loves, or of his family, or of his
health, and he will not perish by a cruel and brutish death.

The doctrine of Jesus does not exact martyrdom similar to that of the
doctrine of the world; it teaches us rather how to put an end to the
sufferings that men endure in the name of the false doctrine of the
world. The doctrine of Jesus has a profound metaphysical meaning; it has
a meaning as an expression of the aspirations of humanity; but it has
also for each individual a very simple, very clear, and very practical
meaning with regard to the conduct of his own life. In fact, we might
say that Jesus taught men not to do foolish things. The meaning of the
doctrine of Jesus is simple and accessible to all.

Jesus said that we were not to be angry, and not to consider ourselves
as better than others; if we were angry and offended others, so much the
worse for us. Again, he said that we were to avoid libertinism, and to
that end choose one woman, to whom we should remain faithful. Once more,
he said that we were not to bind ourselves by promises or oaths to the
service of those who may constrain us to commit acts of folly and
wickedness. Then he said that we were not to return evil for evil, lest
the evil rebound upon ourselves with redoubled force. And, finally, he
says that we are not to consider men as foreigners because they dwell in
another country and speak a language different from our own. And the
conclusion is, that if we avoid doing any of these foolish things, we
shall be happy.

This is all very well (we say), but the world is so organized that, if
we place ourselves in opposition to it, our condition will be much more
calamitous than if we live in accordance with its doctrine. If a man
refuses to perform military service, he will be shut up in a fortress,
and possibly will be shot. If a man will not do what is necessary for
the support of himself and his family, he and his family will starve.
Thus argue the people who feel themselves obliged to defend the existing
social organization; but they do not believe in the truth of their own
words. They only say this because they cannot deny the truth of the
doctrine of Jesus which they profess, and because they must justify
themselves in some way for their failure to practise it. They not only
do not believe in what they say; they have never given any serious
consideration to the subject. They have faith in the doctrine of the
world, and they only make use of the plea they have learned from the
Church,--that much suffering is inevitable for those who would practise
the doctrine of Jesus; and so they have never tried to practise the
doctrine of Jesus at all.

We see enough of the frightful suffering endured by men in following the
doctrine of the world, but in these times we hear nothing of suffering
in behalf of the doctrine of Jesus. Thirty millions of men have perished
in wars, fought in behalf of the doctrine of the world; thousands of
millions of beings have perished, crushed by a social system organized
on the principle of the doctrine of the world; but where, in our day,
shall we find a million, a thousand, a dozen, or a single one, who has
died a cruel death, or has even suffered from hunger and cold, in behalf
of the doctrine of Jesus? This fear of suffering is only a puerile
excuse that proves how little we really know of Jesus' doctrine. We not
only do not follow it; we do not even take it seriously. The Church has
explained it in such a way that it seems to be, not the doctrine of a
happy life, but a bugbear, a source of terror.

Jesus calls men to drink of a well of living water, which is free to
all. Men are parched with thirst, they have eaten of filth and drunk
blood, but they have been told that they will perish if they drink of
this water that is offered them by Jesus, and men believe in the
warnings of superstition. They die in torment, with the water that they
dare not touch within their reach. If they would only have faith in
Jesus' words, and go to this well of living water and quench their
thirst, they would realize how cunning has been the imposture practised
upon them by the Church, and how needlessly their sufferings have been
prolonged. If they would only accept the doctrine of Jesus, frankly and
simply, they would see at once the horrible error of which we are each
and all the victims.

One generation after another strives to find the security of its
existence in violence, and by violence to protect its privileges. We
believe that the happiness of our life is in power, and domination, and
abundance of worldly goods. We are so habituated to this idea that we
are alarmed at the sacrifices exacted by the doctrine of Jesus, which
teaches that man's happiness does not depend upon fortune and power, and
that the rich cannot enter into the kingdom of God. But this is a false
idea of the doctrine of Jesus, which teaches us, not to do what is the
worst, but to do what is the best for ourselves here in this present
life. Inspired by his love for men, Jesus taught them not to depend upon
security based upon violence, and not to seek after riches, just as we
teach the common people to abstain, for their own interest, from
quarrels and intemperance. He said that if men lived without defending
themselves against violence, and without possessing riches, they would
be more happy; and he confirms his words by the example of his life. He
said that a man who lives according to his doctrine must be ready at any
moment to endure violence from others, and, possibly, to die of hunger
and cold. But this warning, which seems to exact such great and
unbearable sacrifices, is simply a statement of the conditions under
which men always have existed, and always will continue to exist.

A disciple of Jesus should be prepared for everything, and especially
for suffering and death. But is the disciple of the world in a more
desirable situation? We are so accustomed to believe in all we do for
the so-called security of life (the organization of armies, the building
of fortresses, the provisioning of troops), that our wardrobes, our
systems of medical treatment, our furniture, and our money, all seem
like real and stable pledges of our existence. We forget the fate of him
who resolved to build greater storehouses to provide an abundance for
many years: he died in a night. Everything that we do to make our
existence secure is like the act of the ostrich, when she hides her head
in the sand, and does not see that her destruction is near. But we are
even more foolish than the ostrich. To establish the doubtful security
of an uncertain life in an uncertain future, we sacrifice a life of
certainty in a present that we might really possess.

The illusion is in the firm conviction that our existence can be made
secure by a struggle with others. We are so accustomed to this illusory
so-called security of our existence and our property, that we do not
realize what we lose by striving after it. We lose everything,--we lose
life itself. Our whole life is taken up with anxiety for personal
security, with preparations for living, so that we really never live at
all.

If we take a general survey of our lives, we shall see that all our
efforts in behalf of the so-called security of existence are not made at
all for the assurance of security, but simply to help us to forget that
existence never has been, and never can be, secure. But it is not enough
to say that we are the dupes of our own illusions, and that we forfeit
the true life for an imaginary life; our efforts for security often
result in the destruction of what we most wish to preserve. The French
took up arms in 1870 to make their national existence secure, and the
attempt resulted in the destruction of hundreds of thousands of
Frenchmen. All people who take up arms undergo the same experience. The
rich man believes that his existence is secure because he possesses
money, and his money attracts a thief who kills him. The invalid thinks
to make his life secure by the use of medicines, and the medicines
slowly poison him; if they do not bring about his death, they at least
deprive him of life, till he is like the impotent man who waited
thirty-five years at the pool for an angel to come down and trouble the
waters. The doctrine of Jesus, which teaches us that we cannot possibly
make life secure, but that we must be ready to die at any moment, is
unquestionably preferable to the doctrine of the world, which obliges us
to struggle for the security of existence. It is preferable because the
impossibility of escaping death, and the impossibility of making life
secure, is the same for the disciples of Jesus as it is for the
disciples of the world; but, according to the doctrine of Jesus, life
itself is not absorbed in the idle attempt to make existence secure. To
the follower of Jesus life is free, and can be devoted to the end for
which it is worthy,--its own welfare and the welfare of others. The
disciple of Jesus will be poor, but that is only saying that he will
always enjoy the gifts that God has lavished upon men. He will not ruin
his own existence. We make the word poverty a synonym for calamity, but
it is in truth a source of happiness, and however much we may regard it
as a calamity, it remains a source of happiness still. To be poor means
not to live in cities, but in the country, not to be shut up in close
rooms, but to labor out of doors, in the woods and fields, to have the
delights of sunshine, of the open heavens, of the earth, of observing
the habits of dumb animals; not to rack our brains with inventing dishes
to stimulate an appetite, and not to endure the pangs of indigestion. To
be poor is to be hungry three times a day, to sleep without passing
hours tossing upon the pillow a victim of insomnia, to have children,
and have them always with us, to do nothing that we do not wish to do
(this is essential), and to have no fear for anything that may happen.
The poor person will be ill and will suffer; he will die like the rest
of the world; but his sufferings and his death will probably be less
painful than those of the rich; and he will certainly live more happily.
Poverty is one of the conditions of following the doctrine of Jesus, a
condition indispensable to those who would enter into the kingdom of God
and be happy.

The objection to this is, that no one will care for us, and that we
shall be left to die of hunger. To this objection we may reply in the
words of Jesus, (words that have been interpreted to justify the
idleness of the clergy):--

"_Get you no gold, nor silver, nor brass in your purses; no wallet for
your journey, neither two coats, nor shoes, nor staff: for the laborer
is worthy of his food_" (Matt. x. 10).

"_And into whatsoever house ye shall enter, ... in that same house
remain, eating and drinking such things as they give: for the laborer is
worthy of his hire_" (Luke x. 5, 7).

The laborer is worthy of ([Greek: axios esti] means, word for word, can
and ought to have) his food. It is a very short sentence, but he who
understands it as Jesus understood it, will no longer have any fear of
dying of hunger. To understand the true meaning of these words we must
get rid of that traditional idea which we have developed from the
doctrine of the redemption that man's felicity consists in idleness. We
must get back to that point of view natural to all men who are not
fallen, that work, and not idleness, is the indispensable condition of
happiness for every human being; that man cannot, in fact, refrain from
work. We must rid ourselves of the savage prejudice which leads us to
think that a man who has an income from a place under the government,
from landed property, or from stocks and bonds, is in a natural and
happy position because he is relieved from the necessity of work. We
must get back into the human brain the idea of work possessed by
undegenerate men, the idea that Jesus has, when he says that the laborer
is worthy of his food. Jesus did not imagine that men would regard work
as a curse, and consequently he did not have in mind a man who would not
work, or desired not to work. He supposed that all his disciples would
work, and so he said that if a man would work, his work would bring him
food. He who makes use of the labor of another will provide food for him
who labors, simply because he profits by that labor. And so he who works
will always have food; he may not have property, but as to food, there
need be no uncertainty whatever.

With regard to work there is a difference between the doctrine of Jesus
and the doctrine of the world. According to the doctrine of the world,
it is very meritorious in a man to be willing to work; he is thereby
enabled to enter into competition with others, and to demand wages
proportionate to his qualifications. According to the doctrine of Jesus,
labor is the inevitable condition of human life, and food is the
inevitable consequence of labor. Labor produces food, and food produces
labor. However cruel and grasping the employer may be, he will always
feed his workman, as he will always feed his horse; he feeds him that he
may get all the work possible, and in this way he contributes to the
welfare of the workman.

"_For verily the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to
minister and to give his life a ransom for many._"

According to the doctrine of Jesus, every individual will be the happier
the more clearly he understands that his vocation consists, not in
exacting service from others, but in ministering to others, in giving
his life for the ransom of many. A man who does this will be worthy of
his food and will not fail to have it. By the words, "_came not to be
ministered unto but to minister_," Jesus established a method which
would insure the material existence of man; and by the words, "_the
laborer is worthy of his food_," he answered once for all the objection
that a man who should practise the doctrine of Jesus in the midst of
those who do not practise it would be in danger of perishing from hunger
and cold. Jesus practised his own doctrine amid great opposition, and he
did not perish from hunger and cold. He showed that a man does not
insure his own subsistence by amassing worldly goods at the expense of
others, but by rendering himself useful and indispensable to others. The
more necessary he is to others, the more will his existence be made
secure.

There are in the world as it is now organized millions of men who
possess no property and do not practise the doctrine of Jesus by
ministering unto others, but they do not die of hunger. How, then, can
we object to the doctrine of Jesus, that those who practise it by
working for others will perish for want of food? Men cannot die of
hunger while the rich have bread. In Russia there are millions of men
who possess nothing and subsist entirely by their own toil. The
existence of a Christian would be as secure among pagans as it would be
among those of his own faith. He would labor for others; he would be
necessary to them, and therefore he would be fed. Even a dog, if he be
useful, is fed and cared for; and shall not a man be fed and cared for
whose service is necessary to the whole world?

But those who seek by all possible means to justify the personal life
have another objection. They say that if a man be sick, even if he have
a wife, parents, and children dependent upon him,--if this man cannot
work, he will not be fed. They say so, and they will continue to say so;
but their own actions prove that they do not believe what they say.
These same people who will not admit that the doctrine of Jesus is
practicable, practise it to a certain extent themselves. They do not
cease to care for a sick sheep, a sick ox, or a sick dog. They do not
kill an old horse, but they give him work in proportion to his strength.
They care for all sorts of animals without expecting any benefit in
return; and can it be that they will not care for a useful man who has
fallen sick, that they will not find work suited to the strength of the
old man and the child, that they will not care for the very babes who
later on will be able to work for them in return? As a matter of fact
they do all this. Nine-tenths of men are cared for by the other tenth,
like so many cattle. And however great the darkness in which this
one-tenth live, however mistaken their views in regard to the other
nine-tenths of humanity, the tenth, even if they had the power, would
not deprive the other nine-tenths of food. The rich will not deprive the
poor of what is necessary, because they wish them to multiply and work,
and so in these days the little minority of rich people provide directly
or indirectly for the nourishment of the majority, that the latter may
furnish the maximum of work, and multiply, and bring up a new supply of
workers. Ants care for the increase and welfare of their slaves. Shall
not men care for those whose labor they find necessary? Laborers are
necessary. And those who profit by labor will always be careful to
provide the means of labor for those who are willing to work.

The objection concerning the possibility of practising the doctrine of
Jesus, that if men do not acquire something for themselves and have
wealth in reserve no one will take care of their families, is true, but
it is true only in regard to idle and useless and obnoxious people such
as make up the majority of our opulent classes. No one (with the
exception of foolish parents) takes the trouble to care for lazy people,
because lazy people are of no use to any one, not even to themselves; as
for the workers, the most selfish and cruel of men will contribute to
their welfare. People breed and train and care for oxen, and a man, as a
beast of burden, is much more useful than an ox, as the tariff of the
slave-mart shows. This is why children will never be left without
support.

Man is not in the world to work for himself; he is in the world to work
for others, and the laborer is worthy of his hire. These truths are
justified by universal experience; now, always, and everywhere, the man
who labors receives the means of bodily subsistence. This subsistence is
assured to him who works against his will; for such a workman desires
only to relieve himself of the necessity of work, and acquires all that
he possibly can in order that he may take the yoke from his own neck and
place it upon the neck of another. A workman like this--envious,
grasping, toiling against his will--will never lack for food and will be
happier than one, who without labor, lives upon the labor of others. How
much more happy, then, will that laborer be who labors in obedience to
the doctrine of Jesus with the object of accomplishing all the work of
which he is capable and wishing for it the least possible return? How
much more desirable will his condition be, as, little by little, he sees
his example followed by others. For services rendered he will then be
the recipient of equal services in return.

The doctrine of Jesus with regard to labor and the fruits of labor is
expressed in the story of the loaves and fishes, wherein it was shown
that man enjoys the greatest sum of the benefits accessible to humanity,
not by appropriating all that he can possibly grasp and using what he
has for his personal pleasure, but by administering to the needs of
others, as Jesus did by the borders of Galilee.

There were several thousand men and women to be fed. One of the
disciples told Jesus that there was a lad who had five loaves and two
fishes. Jesus understood that some of the people coming from a distance
had brought provisions with them and that some had not, for after all
were filled, the disciples gathered up twelve basketsful of fragments.
(If no one but the boy had brought anything, how could so much have been
left after so many were fed?) If Jesus had not set them an example, the
people would have acted as people of the world act now. Some of those
who had food would have eaten all that they had through gluttony or
avidity, and some, after eating what they could eat, would have taken
the rest to their homes. Those who had nothing would have been famished,
and would have regarded their more fortunate companions with envy and
hatred; some of them would perhaps have tried to take food by force from
them who had it, and so hunger and anger and quarrels would have been
the result. That is, the multitude would have acted just as people act
nowadays.

But Jesus knew exactly what to do. He asked that all be made to sit
down, and then commanded his disciples to give of what they had to those
who had nothing, and to request others to do the same. The result was
that those who had food followed the example of Jesus and his disciples,
and offered what they had to others. Every one ate and was satisfied,
and with the broken pieces that remained the disciples filled twelve
baskets.

Jesus teaches every man to govern his life by the law of reason and
conscience, for the law of reason is as applicable to the individual as
it is to humanity at large. Work is the inevitable condition of human
life, the true source of human welfare. For this reason a refusal to
divide the fruits of one's labor with others is a refusal to accept the
conditions of true happiness. To give of the fruits of one's labor to
others is to contribute to the welfare of all men. The retort is made
that if men did not wrest food from others, they would die of hunger. To
me it seems more reasonable to say, that if men do wrest their food from
one another, some of them will die of hunger, and experience confirms
this view.

Every man, whether he lives according to the doctrine of Jesus or
according to the doctrine of the world, lives only by the sufferance and
care of others. From his birth, man is cared for and nourished by
others. According to the doctrine of the world, man has a right to
demand that others should continue to nourish and care for him and for
his family, but, according to the doctrine of Jesus, he is only entitled
to care and nourishment on the condition that he do all he can for the
service of others, and so render himself useful and indispensable to
mankind. Men who live according to the doctrine of the world are usually
anxious to rid themselves of any one who is useless and whom they are
obliged to feed; at the first possible opportunity they cease to feed
such a one, and leave him to die, because of his uselessness; but him
who lives for others according to the doctrine of Jesus, all men,
however wicked they may be, will always nourish and care for, that he
may continue to labor in their behalf.

Which, then, is the more reasonable; which offers the more joy and the
greater security, a life according to the doctrine of the world, or a
life according to the doctrine of Jesus?




CHAPTER XI.


THE doctrine of Jesus is to bring the kingdom of God upon earth. The
practice of this doctrine is not difficult; and not only so, its
practice is a natural expression of the belief of all who recognize its
truth. The doctrine of Jesus offers the only possible chance of
salvation for those who would escape the perdition that threatens the
personal life. The fulfilment of this doctrine not only will deliver men
from the privations and sufferings of this life, but will put an end to
nine-tenths of the suffering endured in behalf of the doctrine of the
world.

When I understood this I asked myself why I had never practised a
doctrine which would give me so much happiness and peace and joy; why,
on the other hand, I always had practised an entirely different
doctrine, and thereby made myself wretched? Why? The reply was a simple
one. Because I never had known the truth. The truth had been concealed
from me.

When the doctrine of Jesus was first revealed to me, I did not believe
that the discovery would lead me to reject the doctrine of the
Church.[22] I dreaded this separation, and in the course of my studies
I did not attempt to search out the errors in the doctrine of the
Church. I sought, rather, to close my eyes to propositions that seemed
to be obscure and strange, provided they were not in evident
contradiction with what I regarded as the substance of the Christian
doctrine.

     [22] See Appendix.

But the further I advanced in the study of the Gospels, and the more
clearly the doctrine of Jesus was revealed to me, the more inevitable
the choice became. I must either accept the doctrine of Jesus, a
reasonable and simple doctrine in accordance with my conscience and my
hope of salvation; or I must accept an entirely different doctrine, a
doctrine in opposition to reason and conscience and that offered me
nothing except the certainty of my own perdition and that of others. I
was therefore forced to reject, one after another, the dogmas of the
Church. This I did against my will, struggling with the desire to
mitigate as much as possible my disagreement with the Church, that I
might not be obliged to separate from the Church, and thereby deprive
myself of communion with fellow-believers, the greatest happiness that
religion can bestow. But when I had completed my task, I saw that in
spite of all my efforts to maintain a connecting-link with the Church,
the separation was complete. I knew before that the bond of union, if it
existed at all, must be a very slight one, but I was soon convinced that
it did not exist at all.

My son came to me one day, after I had completed my examination of the
Gospels, and told me of a discussion that was going on between two
domestics (uneducated persons who scarcely knew how to read) concerning
a passage in some religious book which maintained that it was not a sin
to put criminals to death, or to kill enemies in war. I could not
believe that an assertion of this sort could be printed in any book, and
I asked to see it. The volume bore the title of "_A Book of Selected
Prayers_; third edition; eighth ten thousand; Moscow: 1879." On page 163
of this book I read:--

"What is the sixth commandment of God?

"Thou shalt not kill.

"What does God forbid by this commandment?

"He forbids us to kill, to take the life of any man.

"Is it a sin to punish a criminal with death according to the law, or to
kill an enemy in war?

"No; that is not a sin. We take the life of the criminal to put an end
to the wrong that he commits; we slay an enemy in war, because in war we
fight for our sovereign and our native land."

And in this manner was enjoined the abrogation of the law of God! I
could scarcely believe that I had read aright.

My opinion was asked with regard to the subject at issue. To the one who
maintained that the instruction given by the book was true, I said that
the explanation was not correct.

"Why, then, do they print untrue explanations contrary to the law?" was
his question, to which I could say nothing in reply.

I kept the volume and looked over its contents. The book contained
thirty-one prayers with instructions concerning genuflexions and the
joining of the fingers; an explanation of the _Credo_; a citation from
the fifth chapter of Matthew without any explanation whatever, but
headed, "Commands for those who would possess the Beatitudes"; the ten
commandments accompanied by comments that rendered most of them void;
and hymns for every saint's day.

As I have said, I not only had sought to avoid censure of the religion
of the Church; I had done my best to see only its most favorable side;
and knowing its academic literature from beginning to end, I had paid no
attention whatever to its popular literature. This book of devotion,
spread broadcast in an enormous number of copies, awakening doubts in
the minds of the most unlearned people, set me to thinking. The contents
of the book seemed to me so entirely pagan, so wholly out of accord with
Christianity, that I could not believe it to be the deliberate purpose
of the Church to propagate such a doctrine. To verify my belief, I
bought and read all the books published by the synod with its
"benediction" (_blagoslovnia_), containing brief expositions of the
religion of the Church for the use of children and the common people.

Their contents were to me almost entirely new, for at the time when I
received my early religious instruction, they had not yet appeared. As
far as I could remember there were no commandments with regard to the
beatitudes, and there was no doctrine which taught that it was not a sin
to kill. No such teachings appeared in the old catechisms; they were
not to be found in the catechism of Peter Mogilas, or in that of
Beliokof, or the abridged Catholic catechisms. The innovation was
introduced by the metropolitan Philaret, who prepared a catechism with
proper regard for the susceptibilities of the military class, and from
this catechism the _Book of Selected Prayers_ was compiled. Philaret's
work is entitled, _The Christian Catechism of the Orthodox Church, for
the Use of all Orthodox Christians_, and is published, "by order of his
Imperial Majesty."[23]

     [23] This book has been in use in all the schools and churches of
     Russia since 1839.--TR.

The book is divided into three parts, "Concerning Faith," "Concerning
Hope," and "Concerning Love." The first part contains the analysis of
the symbol of faith as given by the Council of Nice. The second part is
made up of an exposition of the _Pater Noster_, and the first eight
verses of the fifth chapter of Matthew, which serve as an introduction
to the Sermon on the Mount, and are called (I know not why) "Commands
for those who would possess the Beatitudes." These first two parts treat
of the dogmas of the Church, prayers, and the sacraments, but they
contain no rules with regard to the conduct of life. The third part,
"Concerning Love," contains an exposition of Christian duties, based not
on the commandments of Jesus, but upon the ten commandments of Moses.
This exposition of the commandments of Moses seems to have been made for
the especial purpose of teaching men not to obey them. Each commandment
is followed by a reservation which completely destroys its force. With
regard to the first commandment, which enjoins the worship of God alone,
the catechism inculcates the worship of saints and angels, to say
nothing of the Mother of God and the three persons of the Trinity
("Special Catechism," pp. 107, 108). With regard to the second
commandment, against the worship of idols, the catechism enjoins the
worship of images (p. 108). With regard to the third commandment, the
catechism enjoins the taking of oaths as the principal token of
legitimate authority (p. 111). With regard to the fourth commandment,
concerning the observance of the Sabbath, the catechism inculcates the
observance of Sunday, of the thirteen principal feasts, of a number of
feasts of less importance, the observance of Lent, and of fasts on
Wednesdays and Fridays (pp. 112-115). With regard to the fifth
commandment, "_Honor thy father and thy mother_," the catechism
prescribes honor to the sovereign, the country, spiritual fathers, all
persons in authority, and of these last gives an enumeration in three
pages, including college authorities, civil, judicial, and military
authorities, and owners of serfs, with instructions as to the manner of
honoring each of these classes (pp. 116-119). My citations are taken
from the sixty-fourth edition of the catechism, dated 1880. Twenty years
have passed since the abolition of serfdom, and no one has taken the
trouble to strike out the phrase which, in connection with the
commandment of God to honor parents, was introduced into the catechism
to sustain and justify slavery.

With regard to the sixth commandment, "_Thou shalt not kill_," the
instructions of the catechism are from the first in favor of murder.

"_Question._--What does the sixth commandment forbid?

"_Answer._--It forbids manslaughter, to take the life of one's neighbor
in any manner whatever.

"_Question._--Is all manslaughter a transgression of the law?

"_Answer._--Manslaughter is not a transgression of the law when life is
taken in pursuance of its mandate. For example:

"1st. When a criminal condemned in justice is punished by death.

"2d. When we kill _in war_ for the sovereign and our country."

The italics are in the original. Further on we read:--

"_Question._--With regard to manslaughter, when is the law transgressed?

"_Answer._--When any one conceals a murderer or sets him at liberty"
(_sic_).

All this is printed in hundreds of thousands of copies, and under the
name of Christian doctrine is taught by compulsion to every Russian, who
is obliged to receive it under penalty of castigation. This is taught to
all the Russian people. It is taught to the innocent children,--to the
children whom Jesus commanded to be brought to him as belonging to the
kingdom of God; to the children whom we must resemble, in ignorance of
false doctrines, to enter into the kingdom of God; to the children whom
Jesus tried to protect in proclaiming woe on him who should cause one of
the little ones to stumble! And the little children are obliged to learn
all this, and are told that it is the only and sacred law of God. These
are not proclamations sent out clandestinely, whose authors are punished
with penal servitude; they are proclamations which inflict the
punishment of penal servitude upon all those who do not agree with the
doctrines they inculcate.

As I write these lines, I experience a feeling of insecurity, simply
because I have allowed myself to say that men cannot render void the
fundamental law of God inscribed in all the codes and in all hearts, by
such words as these:--

"Manslaughter is not a transgression of the law when life is taken in
pursuance of its mandate... when we kill in war for our sovereign and
our country."

I tremble because I have allowed myself to say that such things should
not be taught to children.

It was against such teachings as these that Jesus warned men when he
said:--

"_Look, therefore, whether the light that is in thee be not darkness._"
(Luke xi. 35.)

The light that is in us has become darkness; and the darkness of our
lives is full of terror.

"_Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye shut the
kingdom of heaven against men: for ye enter not in yourselves, neither
suffer ye them that are entering in to enter. Woe unto you, scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows' houses, even while for a
pretense ye make long prayers: therefore ye shall receive greater
condemnation. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye
compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and when he is become so, ye
make him twofold more a son of hell than yourselves. Woe unto you, ye
blind guides...._

"_Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye build the
sepulchres of the prophets, and garnish the tombs of the righteous, and
say, If we had been in the days of our fathers, ice should not have been
partakers with them in the blood of the prophets. Wherefore ye witness
to yourselves, that ye are sons of them that slew the prophets. Fill ye
up, then, the measure of your fathers.... I send unto you prophets, and
wise men, and scribes: some of them shall ye kill and crucify; and some
of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute from city to
city: that upon you may come all the righteous blood shed on the earth,
from the blood of Abel...._

"_Every sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men; but the blasphemy
against the Spirit shall not be forgiven._"

Of a truth we might say that all this was written but yesterday, not
against men who no longer compass sea and land to blaspheme against the
Spirit, or to convert men to a religion that renders its proselytes
worse than they were before, but against men who deliberately force
people to embrace their religion, and persecute and bring to death all
the prophets and the righteous who seek to reveal their falsehoods to
mankind. I became convinced that the doctrine of the Church, although
bearing the name of "Christian," is one with the darkness against which
Jesus struggled, and against which he commanded his disciples to strive.

The doctrine of Jesus, like all religious doctrines, is regarded in two
ways,--first, as a moral and ethical system which teaches men how they
should live as individuals, and in relation to each other; second, as a
metaphysical theory which explains why men should live in a given manner
and not otherwise. One necessitates the other. Man should live in this
manner because such is his destiny; or, man's destiny is this way, and
consequently he should follow it. These two methods of doctrinal
expression are common to all the religions of the world, to the religion
of the Brahmins, to that of Confucius, to that of Buddha, to that of
Moses, and to that of the Christ. But, with regard to the doctrine of
Jesus, as with regard to all other doctrines, men wander from its
precepts, and they always find some one to justify their deviations.
Those who, as Jesus said, sit in Moses' seat, explain the metaphysical
theory in such a way that the ethical prescriptions of the doctrine
cease to be regarded as obligatory, and are replaced by external forms
of worship, by ceremonial. This is a condition common to all religions,
but, to me, it seems that it never has been manifested with so much pomp
as in connection with Christianity,--and for two reasons: first, because
the doctrine of Jesus is the most elevated of all doctrines (the most
elevated because the metaphysical and ethical portions are so closely
united that one cannot be separated from the other without destroying
the vitality of the whole); second, because the doctrine of Jesus is in
itself a protest against all forms, a negation not only of Jewish
ceremonial, but of all exterior rites of worship. Therefore, the
arbitrary separation of the metaphysical and ethical aspects of
Christianity entirely disfigures the doctrine, and deprives it of every
sort of meaning. The separation began with the preaching of Paul, who
knew but imperfectly the ethical doctrine set forth in the Gospel of
Matthew, and who preached a metaphysico-cabalistic theory entirely
foreign to the doctrine of Jesus; and this theory was perfected under
Constantine, when the existing pagan social organization was proclaimed
Christian simply by covering it with the mantle of Christianity. After
Constantine, that arch-pagan, whom the Church in spite of all his crimes
and vices admits to the category of the saints, after Constantine began
the domination of the councils, and the centre of gravity of
Christianity was permanently displaced till only the metaphysical
portion was left in view. And this metaphysical theory with its
accompanying ceremonial deviated more and more from its true and
primitive meaning, until it has reached its present stage of
development, as a doctrine which explains the mysteries of a celestial
life beyond the comprehension of human reason, and, with all its
complicated formulas, gives no religious guidance whatever with regard
to the regulation of this earthly life.

All religions, with the exception of the religion of the Christian
Church, demand from their adherents aside from forms and ceremonies, the
practice of certain actions called good, and abstinence from certain
actions that are called bad. The Jewish religion prescribed
circumcision, the observance of the Sabbath, the giving of alms, the
feast of the Passover. Mohammedanism prescribes circumcision, prayer
five times a day, the giving of tithes to the poor, pilgrimage to the
tomb of the Prophet, and many other things. It is the same with all
other religions. Whether these prescriptions are good or bad, they are
prescriptions which exact the performance of certain actions.
Pseudo-Christianity alone prescribes nothing. There is nothing that a
Christian is obliged to observe except fasts and prayers, which the
Church itself does not recognize as obligatory. All that is necessary to
the pseudo-Christian is the sacrament. But the sacrament is not
fulfilled by the believer; it is administered to him by others. The
pseudo-Christian is obliged to do nothing or to abstain from nothing for
his own salvation, since the Church administers to him everything of
which he has need. The Church baptizes him, anoints him, gives him the
eucharist, confesses him, even after he has lost consciousness,
administers extreme unction to him, and prays for him,--and he is saved.
From the time of Constantine the Christian Church has prescribed no
religious duties to its adherents. It has never required that they
should abstain from anything. The Christian Church has recognized and
sanctioned divorce, slavery, tribunals, all earthly powers, the death
penalty, and war; it has exacted nothing except a renunciation of a
purpose to do evil on the occasion of baptism, and this only in its
early days: later on, when infant baptism was introduced, even this
requirement was no longer observed.

The Church confesses the doctrine of Jesus in theory, but denies it in
practice. Instead of guiding the life of the world, the Church, through
affection for the world, expounds the metaphysical doctrine of Jesus in
such a way as not to derive from it any obligation as to the conduct of
life, any necessity for men to live differently from the way in which
they have been living. The Church has surrendered to the world, and
simply follows in the train of its victor. The world does as it pleases,
and leaves to the Church the task of justifying its actions with
explanations as to the meaning of life. The world organizes an existence
in absolute opposition to the doctrine of Jesus, and the Church
endeavors to demonstrate that men who live contrary to the doctrine of
Jesus really live in accordance with that doctrine. The final result is
that the world lives a worse than pagan existence, and the Church not
only approves, but maintains that this existence is in exact conformity
to the doctrine of Jesus.

But a time comes when the light of the true doctrine of Jesus shines
forth from the Gospels, notwithstanding the guilty efforts of the Church
to conceal it from men's eyes, as, for instance, in prohibiting the
translation of the Bible; there comes a time when the light reaches the
people, even through the medium of sectarians and free-thinkers, and the
falsity of the doctrine of the Church is shown so clearly that men begin
to transform the method of living that the Church has justified.

Thus men of their own accord, and in opposition to the sanction of the
Church, have abolished slavery, abolished the divine right of emperors
and popes, and are now proceeding to abolish property and the State. And
the Church cannot forbid such action because the abolition of these
iniquities is in conformity to the Christian doctrine, that the Church
preaches after having falsified.

And in this way the conduct of human life is freed from the control of
the Church, and subjected to an entirely different authority. The Church
retains its dogmas, but what are its dogmas worth? A metaphysical
explanation can be of use only when there is a doctrine of life which it
serves to make manifest. But the Church possesses only the explanation
of an organization which it once sanctioned, and which no longer exists.
The Church has nothing left but temples and shrines and canonicals and
vestments and words.

For eighteen centuries the Church has hidden the light of Christianity
behind its forms and ceremonials, and by this same light it is put to
shame. The world, with an organization sanctioned by the Church, has
rejected the Church in the name of the very principles of Christianity
that the Church has professed. The separation between the two is
complete and cannot be concealed. Everything that truly lives in the
world of Europe to-day (everything not cold and dumb in hateful
isolation),--everything that is living, is detached from the Church,
from all churches, and has an existence independent of the Church. Let
it not be said that this is true only of the decayed civilizations of
Western Europe. Russia, with its millions of civilized and uncivilized
Christian rationalists, who have rejected the doctrine of the Church,
proves incontestably that as regards emancipation from the yoke of the
Church, she is, thanks be to God, in a worse condition of decay than the
rest of Europe.

All that lives is independent of the Church. The power of the State is
based upon tradition, upon science, upon popular suffrage, upon brute
force, upon everything except upon the Church. Wars, the relation of
State with State, are governed by principles of nationality, of the
balance of power, but not by the Church. The institutions established by
the State frankly ignore the Church. The idea that the Church can, in
these times, serve as a basis for justice or the conservation of
property, is simply absurd. Science not only does not sustain the
doctrine of the Church, but is, in its development, entirely hostile to
the Church. Art, formerly entirely devoted to the service of the
Church, has wholly forsaken the Church. It is little to say that human
life is now entirely emancipated from the Church; it has now, with
regard to the Church, only contempt when the Church does not interfere
with human affairs, and hatred when the Church seeks to re-assert its
ancient privileges. The Church is still permitted a formal existence
simply because men dread to shatter the chalice that once contained the
water of life. In this way only can we account, in our age, for the
existence of Catholicism, of Orthodoxy, and of the different Protestant
churches.

All these churches--Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant--are like so many
sentinels still keeping careful watch before the prison doors, although
the prisoners have long been at liberty before their eyes, and even
threaten their existence. All that actually constitutes life, that is,
the activity of humanity towards progress and its own welfare,
socialism, communism, the new politico-economical theories,
utilitarianism, the liberty and equality of all social classes, and of
men and women, all the moral principles of humanity, the sanctity of
work, reason, science, art,--all these that lend an impulse to the
world's progress in hostility to the Church are only fragments of the
doctrine which the Church has professed, and so carefully endeavored to
conceal. In these times, the life of the world is entirely independent
of the doctrine of the Church. The Church is left so far behind, that
men no longer hear the voices of those who preach its doctrines. This
is easily to be understood because the Church still clings to an
organization of the world's life, which has been forsaken, and is
rapidly falling to destruction.

Imagine a number of men rowing a boat, a pilot steering. The men rely
upon the pilot, and the pilot steers well; but after a time the good
pilot is replaced by another, who does not steer at all. The boat moves
along rapidly and easily. At first the men do not notice the negligence
of the new pilot; they are only pleased to find that the boat goes along
so easily. Then they discover that the new pilot is utterly useless, and
they mock at him, and drive him from his place.

The matter would not be so serious if the men, in thrusting aside the
unskilful pilot, did not forget that without a pilot they are likely to
take a wrong course. But so it is with our Christian society. The Church
has lost its control; we move smoothly onward, and we are a long way
from our point of departure. Science, that especial pride of this
nineteenth century, is sometimes alarmed; but that is because of the
absence of a pilot. We are moving onward, but to what goal? We organize
our life without in the least knowing why, or to what end. But we can no
longer be contented to live without knowing why, any more than we can
navigate a boat without knowing the course that we are following.

If men could do nothing of themselves, if they were not responsible for
their condition, they might very reasonably reply to the question, "Why
are you in this situation?"--"We do not know; but here we are, and
submit." But men are the builders of their own destiny, and more
especially of the destiny of their children; and so when we ask, "Why do
you bring together millions of troops, and why do you make soldiers of
yourselves, and mangle and murder one another? Why have you expended,
and why do you still expend, an enormous sum of human energy in the
construction of useless and unhealthful cities? Why do you organize
ridiculous tribunals, and send people whom you consider as criminals
from France to Cayenne, from Russia to Siberia, from England to
Australia, when you know the hopeless folly of it? Why do you abandon
agriculture, which you love, for work in factories and mills, which you
despise? Why do you bring up your children in a way that will force them
to lead an existence which you find worthless? Why do you do this?" To
all these questions men feel obliged to make some reply.

If this existence were an agreeable one, and men took pleasure in it,
even then men would try to explain why they continued to live under such
conditions. But all these things are terribly difficult; they are
endured with murmuring and painful struggles, and men cannot refrain
from reflecting upon the motive which impels them to such a course. They
must cease to maintain the accepted organization of existence, or they
must explain why they give it their support. And so men never have
allowed this question to pass unanswered. We find in all ages some
attempt at a response. The Jew lived as he lived, that is, made war,
put criminals to death, built the Temple, organized his entire existence
in one way and not another, because, as he was convinced, he thereby
followed the laws which God himself had promulgated. We may say the same
of the Hindu, the Chinaman, the Roman, and the Mohammedan. A similar
response was given by the Christian a century ago, and is given by the
great mass of Christians now.

A century ago, and among the ignorant now, the nominal Christian makes
this reply: "Compulsory military service, wars, tribunals, and the death
penalty, all exist in obedience to the law of God transmitted to us by
the Church. This is a fallen world. All the evil that exists, exists by
God's will, as a punishment for the sins of men. For this reason we can
do nothing to palliate evil. We can only save our own souls by faith, by
the sacraments, by prayers, and by submission to the will of God as
transmitted by the Church. The Church teaches us that all Christians
should unhesitatingly obey their rulers, who are the Lord's anointed,
and obey also persons placed in authority by rulers; that they ought to
defend their property and that of others by force, wage war, inflict the
death penalty, and in all things submit to the authorities, who command
by the will of God."

Whatever we may think of the reasonableness of these explanations, they
once sufficed for a believing Christian, as similar explanations
satisfied a Jew or a Mohammedan, and men were not obliged to renounce
all reason for living according to a law which they recognized as
divine. But in this time only the most ignorant people have faith in any
such explanations, and the number of these diminishes every day and
every hour. It is impossible to check this tendency. Men irresistibly
follow those who lead the way, and sooner or later must pass over the
same ground as the advance guard. The advance guard is now in a critical
position; those who compose it organize life to suit themselves, prepare
the same conditions for those who are to follow, and absolutely have not
the slightest idea of why they do so. No civilized man in the vanguard
of progress is able to give any reply now to the direct questions, "Why
do you lead the life that you do lead? Why do you establish the
conditions that you do establish?" I have propounded these questions to
hundreds of people, and never have got from them a direct reply. Instead
of a direct reply to the direct question, I have received in return a
response to a question that I had not asked.

When we ask a Catholic, or Protestant, or Orthodox believer why he leads
an existence contrary to the doctrine of Jesus, instead of making a
direct response he begins to speak of the melancholy state of scepticism
characteristic of this generation, of evil-minded persons who spread
doubt broadcast among the masses, of the importance of the future of the
existing Church. But he will not tell you why he does not act in
conformity to the commands of the religion that he professes. Instead of
speaking of his own condition, he will talk to you about the condition
of humanity in general, and of that of the Church, as if his own life
were not of the slightest significance, and his sole preoccupations were
the salvation of humanity, and of what he calls the Church.

A philosopher of whatever school he may be, whether an idealist or a
spiritualist, a pessimist or a positivist, if we ask of him why he lives
as he lives, that is to say, in disaccord with his philosophical
doctrine, will begin at once to talk about the progress of humanity and
about the historical law of this progress which he has discovered, and
in virtue of which humanity gravitates toward righteousness. But he
never will make any direct reply to the question why he himself, on his
own account, does not live in harmony with what he recognizes as the
dictates of reason. It would seem as if the philosopher were as
preoccupied as the believer, not with his personal life, but with
observing the effect of general laws upon the development of humanity.

The "average" man (that is, one of the immense majority of civilized
people who are half sceptics and half believers, and who all, without
exception, deplore existence, condemn its organization, and predict
universal destruction),--the average man, when we ask him why he
continues to lead a life that he condemns, without making any effort
towards its amelioration, makes no direct reply, but begins at once to
talk about things in general, about justice, about the State, about
commerce, about civilization. If he be a member of the police or a
prosecuting attorney, he asks, "And what would become of the State, if
I, to ameliorate my existence, were to cease to serve it?" "What would
become of commerce?" is his demand if he be a merchant; "What of
civilization, if I cease to work for it, and seek only to better my own
condition?" will be the objection of another. His response always will
be in this form, as if the duty of his life were not to seek the good
conformable to his nature, but to serve the State, or commerce, or
civilization.

The average man replies in just the same manner as does the believer or
the philosopher. Instead of making the question a personal one, he
glides at once to generalities. This subterfuge is employed simply
because the believer and the philosopher, and the average man have no
positive doctrine concerning existence, and cannot, therefore, reply to
the personal question, "What of your own life?" They are disgusted and
humiliated at not possessing the slightest trace of a doctrine with
regard to life, for no one can live in peace without some understanding
of what life really means. But nowadays only Christians cling to a
fantastic and worn-out creed as an explanation of why life is as it is,
and is not otherwise. Only Christians give the name of religion to a
system which is not of the least use to any one. Only among Christians
is life separated from any or all doctrine, and left without any
definition whatever. Moreover, science, like tradition, has formulated
from the fortuitous and abnormal condition of humanity a general law.
Learned men, such as Tiele and Spencer, treat religion as a serious
matter, understanding by religion the metaphysical doctrine of the
universal principle, without suspecting that they have lost sight of
religion as a whole by confining their attention entirely to one of its
phases.

From all this we get very extraordinary results. We see learned and
intelligent men artlessly believing that they are emancipated from all
religion simply because they reject the metaphysical explanation of the
universal principle which satisfied a former generation. It does not
occur to them that men cannot live without some theory of existence;
that every human being lives according to some principle, and that this
principle by which he governs his life is his religion. The people of
whom we have been speaking are persuaded that they have reasonable
convictions, but that they have no religion. Nevertheless, however
serious their asseverations, they have a religion from the moment that
they undertake to govern their actions by reason, for a reasonable act
is determined by some sort of faith. Now their faith is in what they are
told to do. The faith of those who deny religion is in a religion of
obedience to the will of the ruling majority; in a word, submission to
established authority.

We may live a purely animal life according to the doctrine of the world,
without recognizing any controlling motive more binding than the rules
of established authority. But he who lives this way cannot affirm that
he lives a reasonable life. Before affirming that we live a reasonable
life, we must determine what is the doctrine of the life which we regard
as reasonable. Alas! wretched men that we are, we possess not the
semblance of any such doctrine, and more than that, we have lost all
perception of the necessity for a reasonable doctrine of life.

Ask the believers or sceptics of this age, what doctrine of life they
follow. They will be obliged to confess that they follow but one
doctrine, the doctrine based upon laws formulated by the judiciary or by
legislative assemblies, and enforced by the police--the favorite
doctrine of most Europeans. They know that this doctrine does not come
from on high, or from prophets, or from sages; they are continually
finding fault with the laws drawn up by the judiciary or formulated by
legislative assemblies, but nevertheless they submit to the police
charged with their enforcement. They submit without murmuring to the
most terrible exactions. The clerks employed by the judiciary or the
legislative assemblies decree by statute that every young man must be
ready to take up arms, to kill others, and to die himself, and that all
parents who have adult sons must favor obedience to this law which was
drawn up yesterday by a mercenary official, and may be revoked
to-morrow.

We have lost sight of the idea that a law may be in itself reasonable,
and binding upon every one in spirit as well as in letter. The Hebrews
possessed a law which regulated life, not by forced obedience to its
requirements, but by appealing to the conscience of each individual; and
the existence of this law is considered as an exceptional attribute of
the Hebrew people. That the Hebrews should have been willing to obey
only what they recognized by spiritual perception as the incontestable
truth direct from God is considered a remarkable national trait. But it
appears that the natural and normal state of civilized men is to obey
what to their own knowledge is decreed by despicable officials and
enforced by the co-operation of armed police.

The distinctive trait of civilized man is to obey what the majority of
men regard as iniquitous, contrary to conscience. I seek in vain in
civilized society as it exists to-day for any clearly formulated moral
bases of life. There are none. No perception of their necessity exists.
On the contrary, we find the extraordinary conviction that they are
superfluous; that religion is nothing more than a few words about God
and a future life, and a few ceremonies very useful for the salvation of
the soul according to some, and good for nothing according to others;
but that life happens of itself and has no need of any fundamental rule,
and that we have only to do what we are told to do.

The two substantial sources of faith, the doctrine that governs life,
and the explanation of the meaning of life, are regarded as of very
unequal value. The first is considered as of very little importance, and
as having no relation to faith whatever; the second, as the explanation
of a bygone state of existence, or as made up of speculations
concerning the historical development of life, is considered as of great
significance. As to all that constitutes the life of man expressed in
action, the members of our modern society depend willingly for guidance
upon people who, like themselves, know not why they direct their fellows
to live in one way and not in another. This disposition holds good
whether the question at issue is to decide whether to kill or not to
kill, to judge or not to judge, to bring up children in this way or in
that. And men look upon an existence like this as reasonable, and have
no feeling of shame!

The explanations of the Church which pass for faith, and the true faith
of our generation, which is in obedience to social laws and the laws of
the State, have reached a stage of sharp antagonism. The majority of
civilized people have nothing to regulate life but faith in the police.
This condition would be unbearable if it were universal. Fortunately
there is a remnant, made up of the noblest minds of the age, who are not
contented with this religion, but have an entirely different faith with
regard to what the life of man ought to be. These men are looked upon as
the most malevolent, the most dangerous, and generally as the most
unbelieving of all human beings, and yet they are the only men of our
time believing in the Gospel doctrine, if not as a whole, at least in
part. These people, as a general thing, know little of the doctrine of
Jesus; they do not understand it, and, like their adversaries, they
refuse to accept the leading principle of the religion of Jesus, which
is to resist not evil; often they have nothing but a hatred for the name
of Jesus; but their whole faith with regard to what life ought to be is
unconsciously based upon the humane and eternal truths comprised in the
Christian doctrine. This remnant, in spite of calumny and persecution,
are the only ones who do not tamely submit to the orders of the first
comer. Consequently they are the only ones in these days who live a
reasonable and not an animal life, the only ones who have faith.

The connecting link between the world and the Church, although carefully
cherished by the Church, becomes more and more attenuated. To-day it is
little more than a hindrance. The union between the Church and the world
has no longer any justification. The mysterious process of maturation is
going on before our eyes. The connecting bond will soon be severed, and
the vital social organism will begin to exercise its functions as a
wholly independent existence. The doctrine of the Church, with its
dogmas, its councils, and its hierarchy, is manifestly united to the
doctrine of Jesus. The connecting link is as perceptible as the cord
which binds the newly-born child to its mother; but as the umbilical
cord and the placenta become after parturition useless pieces of flesh,
which are carefully buried out of regard for what they once nourished,
so the Church has become a useless organism, to be preserved, if at all,
in some museum of curiosities out of regard for what it has once been.
As soon as respiration and circulation are established, the former
source of nutrition becomes a hindrance to life. Vain and foolish would
it be to attempt to retain the bond, and to force the child that has
come into the light of day to receive its nourishment by a pre-natal
process. But the deliverance of the child from the maternal tie does not
ensure life. The life of the newly born depends upon another bond of
union which is established between it and its mother that its
nourishment may be maintained.

And so it must be with our Christian world of to-day. The doctrine of
Jesus has brought the world into the light. The Church, one of the
organs of the doctrine of Jesus, has fulfilled its mission and is now
useless. The world cannot be bound to the Church; but the deliverance of
the world from the Church will not ensure life. Life will begin when the
world perceives its own weakness and the necessity for a different
source of strength. The Christian world feels this necessity: it
proclaims its helplessness, it feels the impossibility of depending upon
its former means of nourishment, the inadequacy of any other form of
nourishment except that of the doctrine by which it was brought forth.
This modern European world of ours, apparently so sure of itself, so
bold, so decided, and within so preyed upon by terror and despair, is
exactly in the situation of a newly born animal: it writhes, it cries
aloud, it is perplexed, it knows not what to do; it feels that its
former source of nourishment is withdrawn, but it knows not where to
seek for another. A newly born lamb shakes its head, opens its eyes and
looks about, and leaps, and bounds, and would make us think by its
apparently intelligent movements that it already has mastered the secret
of living; but of this the poor little creature knows nothing. The
impetuosity and energy it displays were drawn from its mother through a
medium of transmission that has just been broken, nevermore to be
renewed. The situation of the new comer is one of delight, and at the
same time is full of peril. It is animated by youth and strength, but it
is lost if it cannot avail itself of the nourishment only to be had from
its mother.

And so it is with our European world. What complex activities, what
energy, what intelligence, does it apparently possess! It would seem as
if all its deeds were governed by reason. With what enthusiasm, what
vigor, what youthfulness do the denizens of this modern world manifest
their abounding vitality! The arts and sciences, the various industries,
political and administrative details, all are full of life. But this
life is due to inspiration received through the connecting link that
binds it to its source. The Church, by transmitting the truth of the
doctrine of Jesus, has communicated life to the world. Upon this
nourishment the world has grown and developed. But the Church has had
its day and is now superfluous.

The world is possessed of a living organism; the means by which it
formerly received its nourishment has withered away, and it has not yet
found another; and it seeks everywhere, everywhere but at the true
source of life. It still possesses the animation derived from
nourishment already received, and it does not yet understand that its
future nourishment is only to be had from one source, and by its own
efforts. The world must now understand that the period of gestation is
ended, and that a new process of conscious nutrition must henceforth
maintain its life. The truth of the doctrine of Jesus, once
unconsciously absorbed by humanity through the organism of the Church,
must now be consciously recognized; for in the truth of this doctrine
humanity has always obtained its vital force. Men must lift up the torch
of truth, which has so long remained concealed, and carry it before
them, guiding their actions by its light.

The doctrine of Jesus, as a religion that governs the actions of men and
explains to them the meaning of life, is now before the world just as it
was eighteen hundred years ago. Formerly the world had the explanations
of the Church which, in concealing the doctrine, seemed in itself to
offer a satisfactory interpretation of life; but now the time is come
when the Church has lost its usefulness, and the world, having no other
means for sustaining its true existence, can only feel its helplessness
and go for aid directly to the doctrine of Jesus.

Now, Jesus first taught men to believe in the light, and that the light
is within themselves. Jesus taught men to lift on high the light of
reason. He taught them to live, guiding their actions by this light, and
to do nothing contrary to reason. It is unreasonable, it is foolish, to
go out to kill Turks or Germans; it is unreasonable to make use of the
labor of others that you and yours may be clothed in the height of
fashion and maintain that mortal source of ennui, a salon; it is
unreasonable to take people already corrupted by idleness and depravity
and shut them up within prison walls, and thereby devote them to an
existence of absolute idleness and deprivation; it is unreasonable to
live in the pestilential air of cities when a purer atmosphere is within
your reach; it is unreasonable to base the education of your children on
the grammatical laws of dead languages;--all this is unreasonable, and
yet it is to-day the life of the European world, which lives a life of
no meaning; which acts, but acts without a purpose, having no confidence
in reason, and existing in opposition to its decrees.

The doctrine of Jesus is the light. The light shines forth, and the
darkness cannot conceal it. Men cannot deny it, men cannot refuse to
accept its guidance. They must depend on the doctrine of Jesus, which
penetrates among all the errors with which the life of men is
surrounded. Like the insensible ether filling universal space,
enveloping all created things, so the doctrine of Jesus is inevitable
for every man in whatever situation he may be found. Men cannot refuse
to recognize the doctrine of Jesus; they may deny the metaphysical
explanation of life which it gives (we may deny everything), but the
doctrine of Jesus alone offers rules for the conduct of life without
which humanity has never lived, and never will be able to live; without
which no human being has lived or can live, if he would live as man
should live,--a reasonable life. The power of the doctrine of Jesus is
not in its explanation of the meaning of life, but in the rules that it
gives for the conduct of life. The metaphysical doctrine of Jesus is not
new; it is that eternal doctrine of humanity inscribed in all the hearts
of men, and preached by all the prophets of all the ages. The power of
the doctrine of Jesus is in the application of this metaphysical
doctrine to life.

The metaphysical basis of the ancient doctrine of the Hebrews, which
enjoined love to God and men, is identical with the metaphysical basis
of the doctrine of Jesus. But the application of this doctrine to life,
as expounded by Moses, was very different from the teachings of Jesus.
The Hebrews, in applying the Mosaic law to life, were obliged to fulfil
six hundred and thirteen commandments, many of which were absurd and
cruel, and yet all were based upon the authority of the Scriptures. The
doctrine of life, as given by Jesus upon the same metaphysical basis, is
expressed in five reasonable and beneficent commandments, having an
obvious and justifiable meaning, and embracing within their restrictions
the whole of human life. A Jew, a disciple of Confucius, a Buddhist, or
a Mohammedan, who sincerely doubts the truth of his own religion,
cannot refuse to accept the doctrine of Jesus; much less, then, can this
doctrine be rejected by the Christian world of to-day, which is now
living without any moral law. The doctrine of Jesus cannot interfere in
any way with the manner in which men of to-day regard the world; it is,
to begin with, in harmony with their metaphysics, but it gives them what
they have not now, what is indispensable to their existence, and what
they all seek,--it offers them a way of life; not an unknown way, but a
way already explored and familiar to all.

Let us suppose that you are a sincere Christian, it matters not of what
confession. You believe in the creation of the world, in the Trinity, in
the fall and redemption of man, in the sacraments, in prayer, in the
Church. The doctrine of Jesus is not opposed to your dogmatic belief,
and is absolutely in harmony with your theory of the origin of the
universe; and it offers you something that you do not possess. While you
retain your present religion you feel that your own life and the life of
the world is full of evil that you know not how to remedy. The doctrine
of Jesus (which should be binding upon you since it is the doctrine of
your own God) offers you simple and practical rules which will surely
deliver you, you and your fellows, from the evils with which you are
tormented.

Believe, if you will, in paradise, in hell, in the pope, in the Church,
in the sacraments, in the redemption; pray according to the dictates of
your faith, attend upon your devotions, sing your hymns,--but all this
will not prevent you from practising the five commandments given by
Jesus for your welfare: Be not angry; Do not commit adultery; Take no
oaths; Resist not evil; Do not make war. It may happen that you will
break one of these rules; you will perhaps yield to temptation, and
violate one of them, just as you violate the rules of your present
religion, or the articles of the civil code, or the laws of custom. In
the same way you may, perhaps, in moments of temptation, fail of
observing all the commandments of Jesus. But, in that case, do not
calmly sit down as you do now, and so organize your existence as to
render it a task of extreme difficulty not to be angry, not to commit
adultery, not to take oaths, not to resist evil, not to make war;
organize rather an existence which shall render the doing of all these
things as difficult as the non-performance of them is now laborious. You
cannot refuse to recognize the validity of these rules, for they are the
commandments of the God whom you pretend to worship.

Let us suppose that you are an unbeliever, a philosopher, it matters not
of what special school. You affirm that the progress of the world is in
accordance with a law that you have discovered. The doctrine of Jesus
does not oppose your views; it is in harmony with the law that you have
discovered. But, aside from this law, in pursuance of which the world
will in the course of a thousand years reach a state of felicity, there
is still your own personal life to be considered. This life you can use
by living in conformity to reason, or you can waste it by living in
opposition to reason, and you have now for its guidance no rule
whatever, except the decrees drawn up by men whom you do not esteem, and
enforced by the police. The doctrine of Jesus offers you rules which are
assuredly in accord with your law of "altruism," which is nothing but a
feeble paraphrase of this same doctrine of Jesus.

Let us suppose that you are an average man, half sceptic, half believer,
one who has no time to analyze the meaning of human life, and one
therefore who has no determinate theory of existence. You live as lives
the rest of the world about you. The doctrine of Jesus is not at all
contrary to your condition. You are incapable of reason, of verifying
the truths of the doctrines that are taught you; it is easier for you to
do as others do. But however modest may be your estimate of your powers
of reason, you know that you have within you a judge that sometimes
approves your acts and sometimes condemns them. However modest your
social position, there are occasions when you are bound to reflect and
ask yourself, "Shall I follow the example of the rest of the world, or
shall I act in accordance with my own judgment?" It is precisely on
these occasions when you are called upon to solve some problem with
regard to the conduct of life, that the commandments of Jesus appeal to
you in all their efficiency. The commandments of Jesus will surely
respond to your inquiry, because they apply to your whole existence.
The response will be in accord with your reason and your conscience. If
you are nearer to faith than to unbelief, you will, in following these
commandments, act in harmony with the will of God. If you are nearer to
scepticism than to belief, you will, in following the doctrine of Jesus,
govern your actions by the laws of reason, for the commandments of Jesus
make manifest their own meaning, and their own justification.

"_Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world
be cast out._" (John xii. 31.)

"_These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye may have peace. In
the world ye have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the
world._" (John xvi. 33.)

The world, that is, the evil in the world, is overcome. If evil still
exists in the world, it exists only through the influence of inertia; it
no longer contains the principle of vitality. For those who have faith
in the commandments of Jesus, it does not exist at all. It is vanquished
by an awakened conscience, by the elevation of the son of man. A train
that has been put in motion continues to move in the direction in which
it was started; but the time comes when the intelligent effort of a
controlling hand is made manifest, and the movement is reversed.

"_Ye are of God, and have overcome them because greater is he that is
within you than he that is in the world._" (1 John v. 4.)

The faith that triumphs over the doctrines of the world is faith in the
doctrine of Jesus.




CHAPTER XII.


I BELIEVE in the doctrine of Jesus, and this is my religion:--

I believe that nothing but the fulfilment of the doctrine of Jesus can
give true happiness to men. I believe that the fulfilment of this
doctrine is possible, easy, and pleasant. I believe that although none
other follows this doctrine, and I alone am left to practise it, I
cannot refuse to obey it, if I would save my life from the certainty of
eternal loss; just as a man in a burning house if he find a door of
safety, must go out, so I must avail myself of the way to salvation. I
believe that my life according to the doctrine of the world has been a
torment, and that a life according to the doctrine of Jesus can alone
give me in this world the happiness for which I was destined by the
Father of Life. I believe that this doctrine is essential to the welfare
of humanity, will save me from the certainty of eternal loss, and will
give me in this world the greatest possible sum of happiness. Believing
thus, I am obliged to practise its commandments.

"_The law was given by Moses; grace and truth came by Jesus Christ._"
(John i. 17.)

The doctrine of Jesus is a doctrine of grace and truth. Once I knew not
grace and knew not truth. Mistaking evil for good, I fell into evil, and
I doubted the righteousness of my tendency toward good. I understand and
believe now that the good toward which I was attracted is the will of
the Father, the essence of life.

Jesus has told us to live in pursuit of the good, and to beware of
snares and temptations ([Greek: skandalon]) which, by enticing us with
the semblance of good, draw us away from true goodness, and lead us into
evil. He has taught us that our welfare is to be sought in fellowship
with all men; that evil is a violation of fellowship with the son of
man, and that we must not deprive ourselves of the welfare to be had by
obedience to his doctrine.

Jesus has demonstrated that fellowship with the son of man, the love of
men for one another, is not merely an ideal after which men are to
strive; he has shown us that this love and this fellowship are natural
attributes of men in their normal condition, the condition into which
children are born, the condition in which all men would live if they
were not drawn aside by error, illusions, and temptations.

In his commandments, Jesus has enumerated clearly and unmistakably the
temptations that interfere with this natural condition of love and
fellowship and render it a prey to evil. The commandments of Jesus offer
the remedies by which I must save myself from the temptations that have
deprived me of happiness; and so I am forced to believe that these
commandments are true. Happiness was within my grasp and I destroyed
it. In his commandments Jesus has shown me the temptations that lead to
the destruction of happiness. I can no longer work for the destruction
of my happiness, and in this determination, and in this alone, is the
substance of my religion.

Jesus has shown me that the first temptation destructive of happiness is
enmity toward men, anger against them. I cannot refuse to believe this,
and so I cannot willingly remain at enmity with others. I cannot, as I
could once, foster anger, be proud of it, fan into a flame, justify it,
regarding myself as an intelligent and superior man and others as
useless and foolish people. Now, when I give up to anger, I can only
realize that I alone am guilty, and seek to make peace with those who
have aught against me.

But this is not all. While I now see that anger is an abnormal,
pernicious, and morbid state, I also perceive the temptation that led me
into it. The temptation was in separating myself from my fellows,
recognizing only a few of them as my equals, and regarding all the
others as persons of no account (_rekim_) or as uncultivated animals
(_fools_). I see now that this wilful separation from other men, this
judgment of _raca_ or _fool_ passed upon others, was the principal
source of my disagreements. In looking over my past life I saw that I
had rarely permitted my anger to rise against those whom I considered as
my equals, whom I seldom abused. But the least disagreeable action on
the part of one whom I considered an inferior inflamed my anger and led
me to abusive words or actions, and the more superior I felt myself to
be, the less careful I was of my temper; sometimes the mere supposition
that a man was of a lower social position than myself was enough to
provoke me to an outrageous manner.

I understand now that he alone is above others who is humble with others
and makes himself the servant of all. I understand now why those that
are great in the sight of men are an abomination to God, who has
declared woe upon the rich and mighty and invoked blessedness upon the
poor and humble. Now I understand this truth, I have faith in it, and
this faith has transformed my perception of what is right and important,
and what is wrong and despicable. Everything that once seemed to me
right and important, such as honors, glory, civilization, wealth, the
complications and refinements of existence, luxury, rich food, fine
clothing, etiquette, have become for me wrong and despicable. Everything
that formerly seemed to me wrong and despicable, such as rusticity,
obscurity, poverty, austerity, simplicity of surroundings, of food, of
clothing, of manners, all have now become right and important to me. And
so although I may at times give myself up to anger and abuse another, I
cannot deliberately yield to wrath and so deprive myself of the true
source of happiness,--fellowship and love; for it is possible that a man
should lay a snare for his own feet and so be lost. Now, I can no
longer give my support to anything that lifts me above or separates me
from others. I cannot, as I once did, recognize in myself or others
titles or ranks or qualities aside from the title and quality of
manhood. I can no longer seek for fame and glory; I can no longer
cultivate a system of instruction which separates me from men. I cannot
in my surroundings, my food, my clothing, my manners, strive for what
not only separates me from others but renders me a reproach to the
majority of mankind.

Jesus showed me another temptation destructive of happiness, that is,
debauchery, the desire to possess another woman than her to whom I am
united. I can no longer, as I did once, consider my sensuality as a
sublime trait of human nature. I can no longer justify it by my love for
the beautiful, or my amorousness, or the faults of my companion. At the
first inclination toward debauchery I cannot fail to recognize that I am
in a morbid and abnormal state, and to seek to rid myself of the
besetting sin.

Knowing that debauchery is an evil, I also know its cause, and can thus
evade it. I know now that the principal cause of this temptation is not
the necessity for the sexual relation, but the abandonment of wives by
their husbands, and of husbands by their wives. I know now that a man
who forsakes a woman, or a woman who forsakes a man, when the two have
once been united, is guilty of the divorce which Jesus forbade, because
men and women abandoned by their first companions are the original cause
of all the debauchery in the world.

In seeking to discover the influences that led to debauchery, I found
one to be a barbarous physical and intellectual education that developed
the erotic passion which the world endeavors to justify by the most
subtile arguments. But the principal influence I found to be the
abandonment of the woman to whom I had first been united, and the
situation of the abandoned women around me. The principal source of
temptation was not in carnal desires, but in the fact that those desires
were not satisfied in the men and women by whom I was surrounded. I now
understand the words of Jesus when he says:--

"_He which made them from the beginning, made them male and female....
So that they are no more twain, but one flesh. What, therefore, God hath
joined together, let not man put asunder._" (Matt. xix. 4-6.)

I understand now that monogamy is the natural law of humanity, which
cannot with impunity be violated. I now understand perfectly the words
declaring that the man or woman who separates from a companion to seek
another, forces the forsaken one to resort to debauchery, and thus
introduces into the world an evil that returns upon those who cause it.

This I believe; and the faith I now have has transformed my opinions
with regard to the right and important, and the wrong and despicable,
things of life. What once seemed to me the most delightful existence in
the world, an existence made up of dainty, æsthetic pleasures and
passions, is now revolting to me. And a life of simplicity and
indigence, which moderates the sexual desires, now seems to me good. The
human institution of marriage, which gives a nominal sanction to the
union of man and woman, I regard as of less grave importance than that
the union, when accomplished, should be regarded as the will of God, and
never be broken.

Now, when in moments of weakness I yield to the promptings of desire, I
know the snare that would deliver me into evil, and so I cannot
deliberately plan my method of existence as formerly I was accustomed to
do. I no longer habitually cherish physical sloth and luxury, which
excite to excessive sensuality. I can no longer pursue amusements which
are oil to the fire of amorous sensuality,--the reading of romances and
the most of poetry, listening to music, attendance at theatres and
balls,--amusements that once seemed to me elevated and refining, but
which I now see to be injurious. I can no longer abandon the woman with
whom I have been united, for I know that by forsaking her, I set a snare
for myself, for her, and for others. I can no longer encourage the gross
and idle existence of others. I can no longer encourage or take part in
licentious pastimes, romantic literature, plays, operas, balls, which
are so many snares for myself and for others. I cannot favor the
celibacy of persons fitted for the marriage relation. I cannot encourage
the separation of wives from their husbands. I cannot make any
distinction between unions that are called by the name of marriage, and
those that are denied this name. I am obliged to consider as sacred and
absolute the sole and unique union by which man is once for all
indissolubly bound to the first woman with whom he has been united.

Jesus has shown me that the third temptation destructive to true
happiness is the oath. I am obliged to believe his words; consequently,
I cannot, as I once did, bind myself by oath to serve any one for any
purpose, and I can no longer, as I did formerly, justify myself for
having taken an oath because "it would harm no one," because everybody
did the same, because it is necessary for the State, because the
consequences might be bad for me or for some one else if I refuse to
submit to this exaction. I know now that it is an evil for myself and
for others, and I cannot conform to it.

Nor is this all. I now know the snare that led me into evil, and I can
no longer act as an accomplice. I know that the snare is in the use of
God's name to sanction an imposture, and that the imposture consists in
promising in advance to obey the commands of one man, or of many men,
while I ought to obey the commands of God alone. I know now that evils
the most terrible of all in their result--war, imprisonments, capital
punishment--exist only because of the oath, in virtue of which men make
themselves instruments of evil, and believe that they free themselves
from all responsibility. As I think now of the many evils that have
impelled me to hostility and hatred, I see that they all originated with
the the oath, the engagement to submit to the will of others. I
understand now the meaning of the words:--

"_But let your speech be, Yea, yea; nay, nay; and whatsoever is more
than these is of evil._" (Matt. v. 37.)

Understanding this, I am convinced that the oath is destructive of my
true welfare and of that of others, and this belief changes my estimate
of right and wrong, of the important and despicable. What once seemed to
me right and important,--the promise of fidelity to the government
supported by the oath, the exacting of oaths from others, and all acts
contrary to conscience, done because of the oath, now seem to me wrong
and despicable. Therefore I can no longer evade the commandment of Jesus
forbidding the oath, I can no longer bind myself by oath to any one, I
cannot exact an oath from another, I cannot encourage men to take an
oath, or to cause others to take an oath; nor can I regard the oath as
necessary, important, or even inoffensive.

Jesus has shown me that the fourth temptation destructive to my
happiness is the resort to violence for the resistance of evil. I am
obliged to believe that this is an evil for myself and for others;
consequently, I cannot, as I did once, deliberately resort to violence,
and seek to justify my action with the pretext that it is indispensable
for the defence of my person and property, or of the persons and
property of others. I can no longer yield to the first impulse to resort
to violence; I am obliged to renounce it, and to abstain from it
altogether.

But this is not all. I understand now the snare that caused me to fall
into this evil. I know now that the snare consisted in the erroneous
belief that my life could be made secure by violence, by the defence of
my person and property against the encroachments of others. I know now
that a great portion of the evils that afflict mankind are due to
this,--that men, instead of giving their work for others, deprive
themselves completely of the privilege of work, and forcibly appropriate
the labor of their fellows. Every one regards a resort to violence as
the best possible security for life and for property, and I now see that
a great portion of the evil that I did myself, and saw others do,
resulted from this practice. I understood now the meaning of the
words:--

"_Not to be ministered unto, but to minister._" "_The laborer is worthy
of his food._"

I believe now that my true welfare, and that of others, is possible only
when I labor not for myself, but for another, and that I must not refuse
to labor for another, but to give with joy that of which he has need.
This faith has changed my estimate of what is right and important, and
wrong and despicable. What once seemed to me right and important
--riches, proprietary rights, the point of honor, the maintenance
of personal dignity and personal privileges--have now become to me wrong
and despicable. Labor for others, poverty, humility, the renunciation of
property and of personal privileges, have become in my eyes right and
important.

When, now, in a moment of forgetfulness, I yield to the impulse to
resort to violence, for the defence of my person or property, or of the
persons or property of others, I can no longer deliberately make use of
this snare for my own destruction and the destruction of others. I can
no longer acquire property. I can no longer resort to force in any form
for my own defence or the defence of another. I can no longer co-operate
with any power whose object is the defence of men and their property by
violence. I can no longer act in a judicial capacity, or clothe myself
with any authority, or take part in the exercise of any jurisdiction
whatever. I can no longer encourage others in the support of tribunals,
or in the exercise of authoritative administration.

Jesus has shown me that the fifth temptation that deprives me of
well-being, is the distinction that we make between compatriots and
foreigners. I must believe this; consequently, if, in a moment of
forgetfulness, I have a feeling of hostility toward a man of another
nationality, I am obliged, in moments of reflection, to regard this
feeling as wrong. I can no longer, as I did formerly, justify my
hostility by the superiority of my own people over others, or by the
ignorance, the cruelty, or the barbarism of another race. I can no
longer refrain from striving to be even more friendly with a foreigner
than with one of my own countrymen.

I know now that the distinction I once made between my own people and
those of other countries is destructive of my welfare; but, more than
this, I now know the snare that led me into this evil, and I can no
longer, as I did once, walk deliberately and calmly into this snare. I
know now that this snare consists in the erroneous belief that my
welfare is dependent only upon the welfare of my countrymen, and not
upon the welfare of all mankind. I know now that my fellowship with
others cannot be shut off by a frontier, or by a government decree which
decides that I belong to some particular political organization. I know
now that all men are everywhere brothers and equals. When I think now of
all the evil that I have done, that I have endured, and that I have seen
about me, arising from national enmities, I see clearly that it is all
due to that gross imposture called patriotism,--love for one's native
land. When I think now of my education, I see how these hateful feelings
were grafted into my mind. I understand now the meaning of the words:--

"_Love your enemies, and pray for them that persecute you; that ye may
be sons of your Father that is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise
on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust._"

I understand now that true welfare is possible for me only on condition
that I recognize my fellowship with the whole world. I believe this, and
the belief has changed my estimate of what is right and wrong, important
and despicable. What once seemed to me right and important--love of
country, love for those of my own race, for the organization called the
State, services rendered at the expense of the welfare of other men,
military exploits--now seem to me detestable and pitiable. What once
seemed to me shameful and wrong--renunciation of nationality, and the
cultivation of cosmopolitanism--now seem to me right and important.
When, now, in a moment of forgetfulness, I sustain a Russian in
preference to a foreigner, and desire the success of Russia or of the
Russian people, I can no longer in lucid moments allow myself to be
controlled by illusions so destructive to my welfare and the welfare of
others. I can no longer recognize states or peoples; I can no longer
take part in any difference between peoples or states, or any discussion
between them either verbal or written, much less in any service in
behalf of any particular state. I can no longer co-operate with measures
maintained by divisions between states,--the collection of custom
duties, taxes, the manufacture of arms and projectiles, or any act
favoring armaments, military service, and, for a stronger reason,
wars,--neither can I encourage others to take any part in them.

I understand in what my true welfare consists, I have faith in that, and
consequently I cannot do what would inevitably be destructive of that
welfare. I not only have faith that I ought to live thus, but I have
faith that if I live thus, and only thus, my life will attain its only
possible meaning, and be reasonable, pleasant, and indestructible by
death. I believe that my reasonable life, the light I bear with me, was
given to me only that it might shine before men, not in words only, but
in good deeds, that men may thereby glorify the Father. I believe that
my life and my consciousness of truth is the talent confided to me for a
good purpose, and that this talent fulfils its mission only when it is
of use to others. I believe that I am a Ninevite with regard to other
Jonahs from whom I have learned and shall learn of the truth; but that I
am a Jonah in regard to other Ninevites to whom I am bound to transmit
the truth. I believe that the only meaning of my life is to be attained
by living in accordance with the light that is within me, and that I
must allow this light to shine forth to be seen of all men. This faith
gives me renewed strength to fulfil the doctrine of Jesus, and to
overcome the obstacles which still arise in my pathway. All that once
caused me to doubt the possibility of practising the doctrine of Jesus,
everything that once turned me aside, the possibility of privations, and
of suffering, and death, inflicted by those who know not the doctrine of
Jesus, now confirm its truth and draw me into its service. Jesus said,
"_When you have lifted up the son of man, then shall you know that I am
he_,"--then shall you be drawn into my service,--and I feel that I am
irresistibly drawn to him by the influence of his doctrine. "_The
truth_," he says again, "_The truth shall make you free_," and I know
that I am in perfect liberty.

I once thought that if a foreign invasion occurred, or even if
evil-minded persons attacked me, and I did not defend myself, I should
be robbed and beaten and tortured and killed with those whom I felt
bound to protect, and this possibility troubled me. But this that once
troubled me now seems desirable and in conformity with the truth. I know
now that the foreign enemy and the malefactors or brigands are all men
like myself; that, like myself, they love good and hate evil; that they
live as I live, on the borders of death; and that, with me, they seek
for salvation, and will find it in the doctrine of Jesus. The evil that
they do to me will be evil to them, and so can be nothing but good for
me. But if truth is unknown to them, and they do evil thinking that they
do good, I, who know the truth, am bound to reveal it to them, and this
I can do only by refusing to participate in evil, and thereby confessing
the truth by my example.

"But hither come the enemy,--Germans, Turks, savages; if you do not make
war on them, they will exterminate you!" They will do nothing of the
sort. If there were a society of Christian men that did evil to none and
gave of their labor for the good of others, such a society would have no
enemies to kill or to torture them. The foreigners would take only what
the members of this society voluntarily gave, making no distinction
between Russians, or Turks, or Germans. But when Christians live in the
midst of a non-Christian society which defends itself by force of arm,
and calls upon the Christians to join in waging war, then the Christians
have an opportunity for revealing the truth to them who know it not. A
Christian knowing the truth bears witness of the truth before others,
and this testimony can be made manifest only by example. He must
renounce war and do good to all men, whether they are foreigners or
compatriots.

"But there are wicked men among compatriots; they will attack a
Christian, and if the latter do not defend himself, will pillage and
massacre him and his family." No; they will not do so. If all the
members of this family are Christians, and consequently hold their lives
only for the service of others, no man will be found insane enough to
deprive such people of the necessaries of life or to kill them. The
famous Maclay lived among the most bloodthirsty of savages; they did not
kill him, they reverenced him and followed his teachings, simply because
he did not fear them, exacted nothing from them, and treated them always
with kindness.

"But what if a Christian lives in a non-Christian family, accustomed to
defend itself and its property by a resort to violence, and is called
upon to take part in measures of defence?" This solicitation is simply
an appeal to the Christian to fulfil the decrees of truth. A Christian
knows the truth only that he may show it to others, more especially to
his neighbors and to those who are bound to him by ties of blood and
friendship, and a Christian can show the truth only by refusing to join
in the errors of others, by taking part neither with aggressors or
defenders, but by abandoning all that he has to those who will take it
from him, thus showing by his acts that he has need of nothing save the
fulfilment of the will of God, and that he fears nothing except
disobedience to that will.

"But how, if the government will not permit a member of the society over
which it has sway, to refuse to recognize the fundamental principles of
governmental order or to decline to fulfil the duties of a citizen? The
government exacts from a Christian the oath, jury service, military
service, and his refusal to conform to these demands may be punished by
exile, imprisonment, and even by death." Then, once more, the exactions
of those in authority are only an appeal to the Christian to manifest
the truth that is in him. The exactions of those in authority are to a
Christian the exactions of those who do not know the truth.
Consequently, a Christian who knows the truth must bear witness of the
truth to those who know it not. Exile and imprisonment and death afford
to the Christian the possibility of bearing witness of the truth, not in
words, but in acts. Violence, war, brigandage, executions, are not
accomplished through the forces of unconscious nature; they are
accomplished by men who are blinded, and do not know the truth.
Consequently, the more evil these men do to Christians, the further they
are from the truth, the more unhappy they are, and the more necessary it
is that they should have knowledge of the truth. Now a Christian cannot
make known his knowledge of truth except by abstaining from the errors
that lead men into evil; he must render good for evil. This is the
life-work of a Christian, and if it is accomplished, death cannot harm
him, for the meaning of his life can never be destroyed.

Men are united by error into a compact mass. The prevailing power of
evil is the cohesive force that binds them together. The reasonable
activity of humanity is to destroy the cohesive power of evil.
Revolutions are attempts to shatter the power of evil by violence. Men
think that by hammering upon the mass they will be able to break it in
fragments, but they only make it more dense and impermeable than it was
before. External violence is of no avail. The disruptive movement must
come from within when molecule releases its hold upon molecule and the
whole mass falls into disintegration. Error is the force that binds men
together; truth alone can set them free. Now truth is truth only when it
is in action, and then only can it be transmitted from man to man. Only
truth in action, by introducing light into the conscience of each
individual, can dissolve the homogeneity of error, and detach men one by
one from its bonds.

This work has been going on for eighteen hundred years. It began when
the commandments of Jesus were first given to humanity, and it will not
cease till, as Jesus said, "_all things be accomplished_" (Matt. v. 18).
The Church that sought to detach men from error and to weld them
together again by the solemn affirmation that it alone was the truth,
has long since fallen to decay. But the Church composed of men united,
not by promises or sacraments, but by deeds of truth and love, has
always lived and will live forever. Now, as eighteen hundred years ago,
this Church is made up not of those who say "_Lord, Lord_," and bring
forth iniquity, but of those who hear the words of truth and reveal them
in their lives. The members of this Church know that life is to them a
blessing as long as they maintain fraternity with others and dwell in
the fellowship of the son of man; and that the blessing will be lost
only to those who do not obey the commandments of Jesus. And so the
members of this Church practise the commandments of Jesus and thereby
teach them to others. Whether this Church be in numbers little or great,
it is, nevertheless, the Church that shall never perish, the Church that
shall finally unite within its bonds the hearts of all mankind.

"_Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good purpose to give
you the kingdom._"




APPENDIX.


WHEN Count Tolstoi speaks of the Church and its dogmas, he refers
especially, of course, to the Orthodox Greek Church, the national church
of Russia. The following summary of the teachings of the Orthodox Greek
Church is taken from Prof. T. M. Lindsay's article in the _Encyclopædia
Brittanica_, ninth edition, volume xi. p. 158. Variations from the Roman
Catholic doctrine are indicated by small capitals, and variations from
Protestant doctrine by italics. [Tr.]

"Christianity is a divine revelation, communicated to mankind through
Christ; its saving truths are to be learned from the Bible _and
tradition_, the former having been written, _and the latter maintained
uncorrupted_ through the influence of the Holy Spirit; _the
interpretation of the Bible belongs to the Church, which is taught by
the Holy Spirit_, but every believer may read the Scriptures.

"According to the Christian revelation, God is a trinity, that is, the
divine essence exists in three persons, perfectly equal in nature and
dignity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; THE HOLY GHOST
PROCEEDS FROM THE FATHER ONLY. Besides the triune God, there is no
other object of divine worship, _but homage_ ([Greek: hyperdoulia]) _may
be paid to the Virgin Mary, and reverence_ ([Greek: doulia]) _to the
saints and to their pictures and relics_.

"Man is born with a corrupt bias, which was not his at creation; the
first man, when created, possessed IMMORTALITY, PERFECT WISDOM, AND A
WILL REGULATED BY REASON. Through the first sin, Adam and his posterity
lost IMMORTALITY, AND HIS WILL RECEIVED A BIAS TOWARDS EVIL. In this
natural state, man, who, even before he actually sins, is a sinner
before God by original or inherited sin, commits manifold actual
transgressions; _but he is not absolutely without power of will towards
good, and is not always doing evil_.

"Christ, the Son of God, became man in two natures, which internally and
inseparably united make One Person, and, according to the eternal
purpose of God, has obtained for man reconciliation with God and eternal
life, inasmuch as he, by his vicarious death has made satisfaction to
God for the world's sins; and this satisfaction was PERFECTLY
COMMENSURATE WITH THE SINS OF THE WORLD. Man is made partaker of
reconciliation in spiritual regeneration, which he attains to, being led
and kept by the Holy Ghost. This divine help is offered _to all men
without distinction, and may be rejected_. In order to attain to
salvation, man is justified, and, when so justified, CAN DO NO MORE THAN
THE COMMANDS OF GOD. He may fall from this state of grace through mortal
sin.

"Regeneration is offered by the word of God and in the sacraments,
_which, under visible signs, communicate God's invisible grace to
Christians when administered cum intentione_. There are _seven_
mysteries or sacraments. Baptism _entirely destroys_ original sin. In
the Eucharist, the true body and blood of Christ are _substantially
present, and the elements are changed into the substance of Christ,
whose body and blood are corporeally partaken of by communicants_. ALL
Christians should receive the bread and the WINE. _The Eucharist is also
an expiatory sacrifice._ The new birth when lost may be restored through
repentance, which is not merely (1) sincere sorrow, but also (2)
_confession of each individual sin to the priest, and_ (3) _the
discharge of penances imposed by the priest for the removal of the
temporal punishment, which may have been imposed by God and the Church.
Penance, accompanied by the judicial absolution of the priest, makes a
true sacrament_.

"The Church of Christ is the fellowship of ALL THOSE WHO ACCEPT AND
PROFESS ALL THE ARTICLES OF FAITH TRANSMITTED BY THE APOSTLES, AND
APPROVED BY GENERAL SYNODS. _Without this visible Church there is no
salvation._ It is under the abiding influence of the Holy Ghost, and
_therefore cannot err in matters of faith_. Specially appointed persons
are necessary in the service of the Church, _and they form a threefold
order, distinct jure divino from other Christians, of Bishops, Priests,
and Deacons_. THE FOUR PATRIARCHS OF EQUAL DIGNITY HAVE THE HIGHEST
RANK AMONG THE BISHOPS, AND THE BISHOPS _united in a General Council
represent the Church and infallibly decide_, under the guidance of the
Holy Ghost, all matters of faith and ecclesiastical life. All ministers
of Christ must be regularly called and appointed to their office, and
are consecrated _by the sacrament of orders_. _Bishops must be
unmarried_, and PRIESTS AND DEACONS MUST NOT CONTRACT A SECOND MARRIAGE.
To all priests in common belongs, besides the preaching of the word, the
administration of the SIX SACRAMENTS,--BAPTISM, CONFIRMATION, PENANCE,
EUCHARIST, MATRIMONY, UNCTION OF THE SICK. The _bishops_ alone can
administer the _sacrament_ of orders.

"_Ecclesiastical ceremonies are part of the divine service; most of them
have apostolic origin; and those connected with the sacrament must not
be omitted by priests under pain of mortal sin._"




INDEX.


  Abraham, 165.
  Adam, fall of, 118, 122.
  Age, consummation of, 139, 152.
  Amusements, harmful, 105;
    maintained by coercion, 106.
  Anger, the commandment against, 70
    _et seq._; destructive of happiness,
    247; temptations to, 247.
  [Greek: anistêmi], meaning of, 146.
  Army, the Christophile, 15.
  Art has forsaken the Church, 224.
  _auferstehn_, meaning of, 146.
  Aurelius, Marcus, 126.
  Average man, the, and the
    problem of existence, 229.
  Belief, if true, always brings
    forth works, 160 _et seq._
  Believers, and the problem of
    existence, 228.
  Berditchef, circus at, 135, 157.
  Bible, 17.
  Biblical references.--O. T.:
    Gen. (iii. 22) 149;
    Exod. (iii. 6) 144;
    Levit. (xix. 12) 86, (xix. 17, 18) 94;
    Deut. (xiii. 21, 34) 86, (xxiv. 1) 77,
    (xxx. 15-19) 150, (xxxii. 39, 40) 149;
    Judges (ix. 4) 76; Sam. (I. viii.-xii.)
    18; Isaiah (lxi. 1, 2) 110. N. T.:
    Matt. (iv. 1-11) 178, (iv. 37) 253,
    (v.) 17, (v., vi., vii.) 5, (v. 17-20)
    51, 52, 53, (v. 18) 262, (v. 19) 70,
    (v. 21-26) 70, 76, (v. 21-48) 69,
    (v. 22-44) 109, (v. 27-32) 77,
    (v. 28-32) 109, (v. 32) 79, 81,
    (v. 33-37) 86, 91, (v. 34-37) 109,
    (v. 36) 89, (v. 38, 39) 7, 8, (v. 38-42)
    92, 93, 110, (v. 40) 26, (v. 43-48) 95,
    110, (v. 44) 256, (vii. 1) 23, (vii. 12)
    57, (x. 10) 200, 254, (xi. 30) 14,
    (xii. 16-21) 138, (xii. 31) 217,
    (xii. 35-40) 139, (xii. 40) 145,
    (xiii. 52) 62, (xiv. 2) 146,
    (xvi. 13-21) 145, (xvi. 21) 145,
    (xvii. 23) 145, (xix.) 79, (xix. 4-6)
    250, (xix. 4-9) 80, (xix. 9) 81, 84,
    (xix. 17) 151, (xx. 1-16) 167, 168,
    (xx. 19) 145, (xx. 20-28) 166,
    (xxi. 33-42) 139, (xxii. 44) 98,
    (xxiii. 13-35) 217, (xxv. 14-46) 142,
    (xxvi. 32) 145, (xxvii. 42) 163;
    Mark (viii. 31) 145, (ix. 31) 145,
    (x. 5-12) 79, (x. 28-30) 180,
    (x. 34) 145, (x. 35-48) 166, (x. 45)
    202, 254, (xii. 21-24) 144,
    (xii. 26, 27) 144, (xii. 36) 98,
    (xiv. 25) 145, (xv. 32) 163; Luke
    (i. 71, 74) 98, (iv. 1-13) 178,
    (iv. 18, 19, 21) 111, (vi. 37) 23,
    (vi. 37-49) 24, (ix. 22) 145, (x. 5, 7)
    200, (x. 26) 61, (x. 28) 151, (x. 29)
    98, (xi. 30) 145, (xi. 35) 125, 216,
    (xii. 22-27) 137, (xii. 32) 263,
    (xii. 54-57) 136, (xiii. 1-5) 135,
    (xiv. 28-31) 136, (xvi. 15-18) 54,
    (xvi. 16) 57, (xvi. 18) 79, (xvi. 31)
    147, (xviii. 33) 145, (xx. 43) 98,
    (xxii. 67) 163; John (i. 9-12) 171,
    (i. 17) 245, (iii. 5, 6, 7) 125,
    (iii. 19-21) 171, (iii. 14-17) 125,
    (v. 39) 150, (v. 44) 164, (vi. 30) 163,
    (vii. 18) 164, (vii. 19) 57, (viii. 17)
    57, (viii. 28) 125, 258, (viii. 32) 258,
    (viii. 35) 141, (viii. 40) 171,
    (viii. 46) 171, (x. 25, 26) 163,
    (xi. 19-22) 145, (xii. 31) 244,
    (xii. 35) 125, (xiv. 6) 172,
    (xiv. 16, 17) 172, (xiv. 27) 109,
    (xv. 25) 57, (xvi. 33) 244, (xviii. 37)
    172, (xix. 7) 57; Acts (vii. 27) 98,
    (xxiii. 8) 143; Rom.
    (i. 32, ii. 1, ii. 4) 31; Cor.
    (I. vii. 1-11) 80, (I. xv. 2) 75; Heb.
    (ii. 2) 115; Jas. (ii. 12, 13) 30,
    (ii. 13) 29, (ii. 14-26) 163,
    (iv. 11, 12) 28, (v. 6) 35, (v. 12) 89;
    John (I. v. 3) 14, (I. v. 4) 244.
  Borovitzky Gate, 19.
  Brahmins, 173, 218.
  Buddha, 134, 218.
  Buddhism, 124.
  Catechism analyzed, 213.
  Children, education of, 105.
  Christian rationalists in Russia, 223.
  Christianity, substance of, 2, 13;
    a spiritual tendency, 4;
    lack of ethical and moral instruction
    in, 123.
  Christians may believe in Jesus, 241;
    duties of, 258 _et seq._
  Chrysostom, xi., 33, 63 _et seq._;
    79, 92.
  Church, the fathers of, 31, 81, 93;
    the Orthodox, 2; creed of, 265;
    inadequacy of 3, 4, 175, 209-244;
    teachings of, 4, 40, 47, 58, 62, 107,
    115, 127, 154, 178, 213-217, 227;
    compulsory in Russia, 216; the true,
    262.
  Churches, as useless sentinels, 224.
  Civilization, characteristics of, 42, 233.
  Clement, x.
  Commandments, abrogated by the Church,
    214.
  Commentators, pseudo-Christian, 91;
    liberal, 93.
  _condemnare_, 34.
  Confucius, 124, 126, 127, 218.
  Constantine, 31, 219.
  Cosmopolitanism, importance of, 257.
  Daniel, apocryphal book of, 149.
  Death, inevitable, 137, 138, 139.
  Death penalty, sanctioned by the Church,
    221.
  Debauchery, 77 _et seq._; Paul's idea
    of, 80; destructive of happiness, 249;
    temptations to, 251.
  Devotion, a pagan book of, 212.
  Divorce, denounced by Jesus, 78
    _et seq._; sanctioned by the
    Church, 221.
  [Greek: doxa], meaning of, 164.
  [Greek: egeirô], meaning of, 146.
  _ehebruch_, meaning of, 84.
  [Greek: eikê], meaning and textual
    authenticity of, 75.
  Elijah, 48, 145.
  [Greek: hêlikian], meaning of, 137.
  Enemy, love for, 95 _et seq._;
    meaning of, 98.
  Epictetus, 89, 126, 127.
  Error, temptation of Jesus by, 178; the
    cohesive power of, 262.
  Esdras, 56.
  Evil, submission to, 8 _et seq._, 13,
    92-94; resistance to, 15; destructive of
    happiness, 253; to speak, 28, 32.
  Existence, its futilities, 226.
  Faith, defined, 115, 162, 166, 244; and
    works, 160, 169; based on the dictates
    of reason, 170; source of, 171; the
    false, 173.
  Fall, dogma of the, 120, 153.
  Family, the, a condition of happiness, 187.
  Foreigners, hostility toward, 100;
    destructive of happiness, 255.
  Formalism, evils of, 68.
  _fornicatio_, meaning of, 83.
  Free-will, an illusion, 124.
  French war of 1870, 198.
  Galilee, 41, 44, 48, 49, 178.
  Galileans, massacre of, 135.
  Germans, 45, 259.
  Ghengis Khan, 36.
  God, service of, 21; appears to Elijah,
    48; commandments of, 51; kingdom of,
    108, 111, 160; how brought, 209.
  Gospels, exegesis, 1, 55, 75.
  Griesbach, 175.
  Happiness, conditions of, 185-189.
  _hayai leolam_, meaning of, 148.
  Health, a condition of happiness, 189.
  Hebrews, 176.
  Hegelianism, 122.
  Herod, 25, 146.
  High Priests, 25, 59.
  Householder, parable of, 168.
  _hurerei_, meaning of, 83.
  Husbandmen, parable of, 139.
  Immortality, belief in, 147, 150, 153, 155.
  Irenæus, 62.
  Isaiah, 56, 61.
  James, 167.
  Jesus, as the "charmant docteur," 41;
    divinity of, 15; the enemies of, 60; his
    use of the Mosaic law, 67; commandments
    of, 69, 76, 86, 194, 242, 246 _et seq._;
    mission of, 108; the Messiah, 111, 145,
    158; his revelation of the true life,
    139; his doctrine of eternal life, 153;
    as a Saviour, 158; his definition of
    belief, 164; of true life, 167; his
    temptation in the wilderness, 177;
    offers the water of truth, 196.
  Jesus, doctrine of, its simplicity, vi.,
    6, 7, 11, 12, 69, 194; as a metaphysical
    theory and an ethical system, 218, 231;
    a doctrine of grace and truth, 246;
    practical results of, 107; key to, 2,
    16, 17; requirements of, 248; its
    meaning, 7, 43, 50, 58, 108, 172, 193,
    199, 240; its rewards, 179, 202; to
    bring the kingdom of God, 209; its
    relation to the Church, 209-244; its
    adaptability to Christians, 241; to the
    philosopher, 242; to the "average" man,
    243; difficulty in obeying, 14, 16, 112,
    132, 160, 173, 194, 259; belief in, 160
    _et seq._; requirements of, 245
    _et seq._; a protest against
    ceremonial, 219; its concealment, 49,
    68, 90, 173, 174; and military
    regulations, 19, 22, 104, 223; its
    universality, 241; delusions with regard
    to, 23, 101, 114, 191 _et seq._,
    204; will overcome the world, 244;
    substance of, 124; and social customs,
    58, 90, 93, 133, 194; where are its
    martyrs? 195.
  Jews, criminal law of, 27.
  John, 167.
  John the Baptist, 43, 54, 108, 135, 145,
    146.
  Jonah, 146; story of, 176.
  Judaism, 124, 220.
  Judgment, parable of the last, 139, 152.
  Laborer, worthy of his sustenance, 200,
    205; rewards of, 201, 203.
  Law, the eternal, 53, 55.
  Law of struggle, 47, 181, 197.
  Lazarus, 147.
  _libertinage_, meaning of, 83.
  Libertinism, 83, 85.
  Liberty, law of, 29.
  Life, essence of, 118, 138, 165; the
    personal, 134, 139, 174; salvation of,
    152, 165; renunciation of, 141, 142;
    the eternal, 143; how perpetuated, 150;
    rewards of, 167; doctrine of, enforced
    by the police, 232.
  Loaves and fishes, lesson of the, 206.
  Luke, 34, 54, 55, 80.
  Luther, 34, 84.
  Manu, laws of, 89.
  Mark, 80.
  Martyrs, Christian, number of, 192.
  Martyrs to the world, 183, 193.
  Materialism, 122.
  Men, brotherhood of, 110, 246, 256;
    intercourse with, essential to
    happiness, 188; nature of, 112; debt to
    the past, 141; mutual dependence, 207;
    temptations against, 246.
  [Greek: metanoia], meaning of, 135, 141.
  Michael, Archbishop, 93.
  Military regulations, 19.
  [Greek: moichasthai], meaning of, 83.
  Monasticism, contrary to the doctrine of
    Jesus, 176.
  Monogamy the natural law of humanity, 250.
  Moscow, 183.
  Mount, the Sermon on the, 5, 6, 10, 11,
    17, 26, 78, 79, 108.
  Müller, Max, 148.
  Nationality, renunciation of, 257.
  Nature, the law of, 46; communion with,
    essential to happiness, 185.
  Neighbor, meaning of, 97 _et seq._
  Nicodemus, 60, 108, 125.
  [Greek: nomos], meaning of, 56.
  Oaths, the commandment against, 87
    _et seq._; destruction of happiness,
    252; evils of, 252.
  Origen, 102.
  Pascal, 134.
  Paul, x., 30, 56, 80, 88, 115; his
    metaphysico-cabalistic doctrine, 219.
  Peace, the reign of, 108; how violated,
    109.
  Penalty, the death, 36.
  Pentateuch, 57, 148.
  Persons, respect of, 29.
  Pessimism, 122.
  Peter, 11, 145, 167, 168, 180.
  Pharisees, 54, 59, 60, 85, 88, 143, 178.
  Philosophers, and the problem of
    existence, 229.
  Pilate, 135, 175.
  [Greek: porneia], meaning of, 83 _et seq._
  Poverty, the blessings of, 199;
    indispensable to the follower of Jesus,
    200.
  _prissaiaga_, meaning of, 85.
  Prophets, the Hebrew, 43, 57, 143.
  _qum_, meaning of, 146.
  _raca_, meaning of, 73, 76.
  Reason, authority of, 124.
  Redemption, dogma of, 120, 122, 153.
  Religions, requirements of, 220.
  Renan, 31, 93.
  Repentance, 60; necessity of, 135.
  Resurrection, not taught by Jesus, 143.
  _resusciter_, meaning of, 146.
  Reuss, 79.
  Revolution, the French, 36.
  Revolutionists, atheistic, 39; Christian,
    39.
  Riches, the struggle for, 184.
  Righteousness, progress toward, 48.
  Sadducees, 60, 143.
  Samaritan, 98.
  Sanhedrim, 25.
  Schopenhauer, 148.
  Science, hostile to the Church, 223.
  Security, struggle for, its futility, 198.
  Seneca, 89.
  Sisyphus, labor of, 184.
  Slave, 39.
  Slavery, sanctioned by the Church, 221.
  Slavophile, 39.
  Socrates, 124, 126.
  Soldier, at Borovitzky Gate, 19, 88;
    Russian nickname for, 88.
  Solomon, 134.
  Son of man, doctrine regarding, 125
    _et seq._; 142, 150, 152, 156, 263.
  Spirit, the Holy, 68.
  Spiritism, 123.
  State, service of, 21, 22, 257;
    independent of the Church, 223.
  States, divisions into, a barbarism, 107.
  Stoics, 124, 173.
  Strauss, 41, 93.
  Suffering, useless, 183.
  Sukhareff Tower, 183.
  Talents, parable of the, 142.
  Talmud, 17, 56, 143, 173.
  Theologians, declarations of, 6.
  Theophylact, 33.
  Thief, on the cross, vii.
  Tiele, 148.
  Tischendorf, 55, 75.
  Tohu, 18, 19, 21, 22, 42, 43.
  Torah, 56, 61, 68.
  Tribunals, 23, 24; contrary to law of
    Jesus, 25 _et seq._; sanctioned by
    the Church, 221.
  Trinity, 14, 40, 58, 116, 117, 127.
  Truth, Christian, 4.
  Tübingen, school of, 33.
  Turks, 259.
  _verdammen_, meaning of, 34.
  Violence, renunciation of, 38; organized,
    45, 196; destructive to happiness, 253;
    temptations to, 254; futility of, 259
    _et seq._
  Virgins, parable of, 139.
  _voskresnovit_, meaning of, 146.
  Vulgate, 34.
  War, organized murder, 101, 192; justified
    by the Church, 211, 221.
  Wars of our century, victims of, 193.
  Work, an inevitable condition of
    happiness, 186, 201, 205, 207.
  World, the doctrine of, illustrated, 129;
    sufferings for, 181, 185-192; its
    commands, 191; its necessities, 184
    _et seq._; justification of, 188;
    its relation to the Church, 221
    _et seq._
  Worldly advantage, 11.
  _zanah_, meaning of, 83.