THE KREUTZER SONATA AND OTHER STORIES

By Count Leo Tolstoi

Author of "Resurrection, " "Life is Worth Living, " "Ivan the Fool, " Etc. 

CONTENTS. 

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 

KREUTZER SONATA. 

IVAN THE FOOL. 

A LOST OPPORTUNITY. 

POLIKUSHKA

THE CANDLE. 

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 

On comparing with the original Russian some English translations ofCount Tolstoi's works, published both in this country and in England, Iconcluded that they were far from being accurate. The majority of themwere retranslations from the French, and I found that the respectivetransitions through which they had passed tended to obliterate many ofthe beauties of the Russian language and of the peculiar characteristicsof Russian life. A satisfactory translation can be made only by one whounderstands the language and SPIRIT of the Russian people. As Tolstoi'swritings contain so many idioms it is not an easy task to render theminto intelligible English, and the one who successfully accomplishesthis must be a native of Russia, commanding the English and Russianlanguages with equal fluency. 

The story of "Ivan the Fool" portrays Tolstoi's communistic ideas, involving the abolition of military forces, middlemen, despotism, andmoney. Instead of these he would establish on earth a kingdom in whicheach and every person would become a worker and producer. The authordescribes the various struggles through which three brothers passed, beset as they were by devils large and small, until they reached theideal state of existence which he believes to be the only happy oneattainable in this world. 

On reading this little story one is surprised that the Russian censorpassed it, as it is devoted to a narration of ideas quite at variancewith the present policy of the government of that country. 

"A Lost Opportunity" is a singularly true picture of peasant life, whichevinces a deep study of the subject on the part of the writer. Tolstoihas drawn many of the peculiar customs of the Russian peasant in amasterly manner, and I doubt if he has given a more comprehensivedescription of this feature of Russian life in any of his other works. In this story also he has presented many traits which are common tohuman nature throughout the world, and this gives an added interest tothe book. The language is simple and picturesque, and the characters aredrawn with remarkable fidelity to nature. The moral of this tale pointsout how the hero Ivan might have avoided the terrible consequences of aquarrel with his neighbor (which grew out of nothing) if he had lived inaccordance with the scriptural injunction to forgive his brother's sinsand seek not for revenge. 

The story of "Polikushka" is a very graphic description of the life ledby a servant of the court household of a certain nobleman, in which theauthor portrays the different conditions and surroundings enjoyed bythese servants from those of the ordinary or common peasants. It is atrue and powerful reproduction of an element in Russian life but littlewritten about heretofore. Like the other stories of this great writer, "Polikushka" has a moral to which we all might profitably give heed. Heillustrates the awful consequences of intemperance, and concludes thatonly kind treatment can reform the victims of alcohol. 

For much valuable assistance in the work of these translations, I amdeeply indebted to the bright English scholarship of my devoted wife. 

THE KREUTZER SONATA. 

CHAPTER I. 

Travellers left and entered our car at every stopping of the train. Three persons, however, remained, bound, like myself, for the fartheststation: a lady neither young nor pretty, smoking cigarettes, witha thin face, a cap on her head, and wearing a semi-masculine outergarment; then her companion, a very loquacious gentleman of about fortyyears, with baggage entirely new and arranged in an orderly manner;then a gentleman who held himself entirely aloof, short in stature, verynervous, of uncertain age, with bright eyes, not pronounced in color, but extremely attractive, --eyes that darted with rapidity from oneobject to another. 

This gentleman, during almost all the journey thus far, had entered intoconversation with no fellow-traveller, as if he carefully avoided allacquaintance. When spoken to, he answered curtly and decisively, andbegan to look out of the car window obstinately. 

Yet it seemed to me that the solitude weighed upon him. He seemed toperceive that I understood this, and when our eyes met, as happenedfrequently, since we were sitting almost opposite each other, he turnedaway his head, and avoided conversation with me as much as with theothers. At nightfall, during a stop at a large station, the gentlemanwith the fine baggage--a lawyer, as I have since learned--got out withhis companion to drink some tea at the restaurant. During their absenceseveral new travellers entered the car, among whom was a tall old man, shaven and wrinkled, evidently a merchant, wearing a large heavily-linedcloak and a big cap. This merchant sat down opposite the empty seats ofthe lawyer and his companion, and straightway entered into conversationwith a young man who seemed like an employee in some commercial house, and who had likewise just boarded the train. At first the clerk hadremarked that the seat opposite was occupied, and the old man hadanswered that he should get out at the first station. Thus theirconversation started. 

I was sitting not far from these two travellers, and, as the train wasnot in motion, I could catch bits of their conversation when others werenot talking. 

They talked first of the prices of goods and the condition of business;they referred to a person whom they both knew; then they plunged intothe fair at Nijni Novgorod. The clerk boasted of knowing people who wereleading a gay life there, but the old man did not allow him to continue, and, interrupting him, began to describe the festivities of the previousyear at Kounavino, in which he had taken part. He was evidently proudof these recollections, and, probably thinking that this would detractnothing from the gravity which his face and manners expressed, herelated with pride how, when drunk, he had fired, at Kounavino, such abroadside that he could describe it only in the other's ear. 

The clerk began to laugh noisily. The old man laughed too, showing twolong yellow teeth. Their conversation not interesting me, I left the carto stretch my legs. At the door I met the lawyer and his lady. 

"You have no more time, " the lawyer said to me. "The second bell isabout to ring. "

Indeed I had scarcely reached the rear of the train when the bellsounded. As I entered the car again, the lawyer was talking with hiscompanion in an animated fashion. The merchant, sitting opposite them, was taciturn. 

"And then she squarely declared to her husband, " said the lawyer with asmile, as I passed by them, "that she neither could nor would live withhim, because" . . . 

And he continued, but I did not hear the rest of the sentence, myattention being distracted by the passing of the conductor and a newtraveller. When silence was restored, I again heard the lawyer'svoice. The conversation had passed from a special case to generalconsiderations. 

"And afterward comes discord, financial difficulties, disputes betweenthe two parties, and the couple separate. In the good old days thatseldom happened. Is it not so?" asked the lawyer of the two merchants, evidently trying to drag them into the conversation. 

Just then the train started, and the old man, without answering, tookoff his cap, and crossed himself three times while muttering a prayer. When he had finished, he clapped his cap far down on his head, and said:

"Yes, sir, that happened in former times also, but not as often. In thepresent day it is bound to happen more frequently. People have becometoo learned. "

The lawyer made some reply to the old man, but the train, everincreasing its speed, made such a clatter upon the rails that I couldno longer hear distinctly. As I was interested in what the old man wassaying, I drew nearer. My neighbor, the nervous gentleman, was evidentlyinterested also, and, without changing his seat, he lent an ear. 

"But what harm is there in education?" asked the lady, with a smile thatwas scarcely perceptible. "Would it be better to marry as in the olddays, when the bride and bridegroom did not even see each other beforemarriage?" she continued, answering, as is the habit of our ladies, notthe words that her interlocutor had spoken, but the words she believedhe was going to speak. "Women did not know whether they would love orwould be loved, and they were married to the first comer, and sufferedall their lives. Then you think it was better so?" she continued, evidently addressing the lawyer and myself, and not at all the old man. 

"People have become too learned, " repeated the last, looking at the ladywith contempt, and leaving her question unanswered. 

"I should be curious to know how you explain the correlation betweeneducation and conjugal differences, " said the lawyer, with a slightsmile. 

The merchant wanted to make some reply, but the lady interrupted him. 

"No, those days are past. "

The lawyer cut short her words:--

"Let him express his thought. "

"Because there is no more fear, " replied the old man. 

"But how will you marry people who do not love each other? Onlyanimals can be coupled at the will of a proprietor. But people haveinclinations, attachments, " the lady hastened to say, casting a glanceat the lawyer, at me, and even at the clerk, who, standing upand leaning his elbow on the back of a seat, was listening to theconversation with a smile. 

"You are wrong to say that, madam, " said the old man. "The animals arebeasts, but man has received the law. "

"But, nevertheless, how is one to live with a man when there is nolove?" said the lady, evidently excited by the general sympathy andattention. 

"Formerly no such distinctions were made, " said the old man, gravely. "Only now have they become a part of our habits. As soon as the leastthing happens, the wife says: 'I release you. I am going to leave yourhouse. ' Even among the moujiks this fashion has become acclimated. 'There, ' she says, 'here are your shirts and drawers. I am going offwith Vanka. His hair is curlier than yours. ' Just go talk with them. Andyet the first rule for the wife should be fear. "

The clerk looked at the lawyer, the lady, and myself, evidentlyrepressing a smile, and all ready to deride or approve the merchant'swords, according to the attitude of the others. 

"What fear?" said the lady. 

"This fear, --the wife must fear her husband; that is what fear. "

"Oh, that, my little father, that is ended. "

"No, madam, that cannot end. As she, Eve, the woman, was taken fromman's ribs, so she will remain unto the end of the world, " said the oldman, shaking his head so triumphantly and so severely that the clerk, deciding that the victory was on his side, burst into a loud laugh. 

"Yes, you men think so, " replied the lady, without surrendering, andturning toward us. "You have given yourself liberty. As for woman, youwish to keep her in the seraglio. To you, everything is permissible. Isit not so?"

"Oh, man, --that's another affair. "

"Then, according to you, to man everything is permissible?"

"No one gives him this permission; only, if the man behaves badlyoutside, the family is not increased thereby; but the woman, the wife, is a fragile vessel, " continued the merchant, severely. 

His tone of authority evidently subjugated his hearers. Even the ladyfelt crushed, but she did not surrender. 

"Yes, but you will admit, I think, that woman is a human being, and hasfeelings like her husband. What should she do if she does not love herhusband?"

"If she does not love him!" repeated the old man, stormily, and knittinghis brows; "why, she will be made to love him. "

This unexpected argument pleased the clerk, and he uttered a murmur ofapprobation. 

"Oh, no, she will not be forced, " said the lady. "Where there is nolove, one cannot be obliged to love in spite of herself. "

"And if the wife deceives her husband, what is to be done?" said thelawyer. 

"That should not happen, " said the old man. "He must have his eyes abouthim. "

"And if it does happen, all the same? You will admit that it doeshappen?"

"It happens among the upper classes, not among us, " answered the oldman. "And if any husband is found who is such a fool as not to rule hiswife, he will not have robbed her. But no scandal, nevertheless. Loveor not, but do not disturb the household. Every husband can govern hiswife. He has the necessary power. It is only the imbecile who does notsucceed in doing so. "

Everybody was silent. The clerk moved, advanced, and, not wishing to lagbehind the others in the conversation, began with his eternal smile:

"Yes, in the house of our employer, a scandal has arisen, and it is verydifficult to view the matter clearly. The wife loved to amuse herself, and began to go astray. He is a capable and serious man. First, it waswith the book-keeper. The husband tried to bring her back to reasonthrough kindness. She did not change her conduct. She plunged into allsorts of beastliness. She began to steal his money. He beat her, butshe grew worse and worse. To an unbaptized, to a pagan, to a Jew (savingyour permission), she went in succession for her caresses. What couldthe employer do? He has dropped her entirely, and now he lives as abachelor. As for her, she is dragging in the depths. "

"He is an imbecile, " said the old man. "If from the first he had notallowed her to go in her own fashion, and had kept a firm hand upon her, she would be living honestly, no danger. Liberty must be taken away fromthe beginning. Do not trust yourself to your horse upon the highway. Donot trust yourself to your wife at home. "

At that moment the conductor passed, asking for the tickets for the nextstation. The old man gave up his. 

"Yes, the feminine sex must be dominated in season, else all willperish. "

"And you yourselves, at Kounavino, did you not lead a gay life with thepretty girls?" asked the lawyer with a smile. 

"Oh, that's another matter, " said the merchant, severely. "Good-by, "he added, rising. He wrapped himself in his cloak, lifted his cap, and, taking his bag, left the car. 

CHAPTER II. 

Scarcely had the old man gone when a general conversation began. 

"There's a little Old Testament father for you, " said the clerk. 

"He is a Domostroy, "* said the lady. "What savage ideas about a womanand marriage!"

 *The Domostroy is a matrimonial code of the days of Ivan the Terrible. 

"Yes, gentlemen, " said the lawyer, "we are still a long way from theEuropean ideas upon marriage. First, the rights of woman, then freemarriage, then divorce, as a question not yet solved. " . . . 

"The main thing, and the thing which such people as he do notunderstand, " rejoined the lady, "is that only love consecrates marriage, and that the real marriage is that which is consecrated by love. "

The clerk listened and smiled, with the air of one accustomed to storein his memory all intelligent conversation that he hears, in order tomake use of it afterwards. 

"But what is this love that consecrates marriage?" said, suddenly, thevoice of the nervous and taciturn gentleman, who, unnoticed by us, hadapproached. 

He was standing with his hand on the seat, and evidently agitated. Hisface was red, a vein in his forehead was swollen, and the muscles of hischeeks quivered. 

"What is this love that consecrates marriage?" he repeated. 

"What love?" said the lady. "The ordinary love of husband and wife. "

"And how, then, can ordinary love consecrate marriage?" continued thenervous gentleman, still excited, and with a displeased air. He seemedto wish to say something disagreeable to the lady. She felt it, andbegan to grow agitated. 

"How? Why, very simply, " said she. 

The nervous gentleman seized the word as it left her lips. 

"No, not simply. "

"Madam says, " interceded the lawyer indicating his companion, "thatmarriage should be first the result of an attachment, of a love, ifyou will, and that, when love exists, and in that case only, marriagerepresents something sacred. But every marriage which is not based ona natural attachment, on love, has in it nothing that is morallyobligatory. Is not that the idea that you intended to convey?" he askedthe lady. 

The lady, with a nod of her head, expressed her approval of thistranslation of her thoughts. 

"Then, " resumed the lawyer, continuing his remarks. 

But the nervous gentleman, evidently scarcely able to contain himself, without allowing the lawyer to finish, asked:

"Yes, sir. But what are we to understand by this love that aloneconsecrates marriage?"

"Everybody knows what love is, " said the lady. 

"But I don't know, and I should like to know how you define it. "

"How? It is very simple, " said the lady. 

And she seemed thoughtful, and then said:

"Love . . . Love . . . Is a preference for one man or one woman to theexclusion of all others. . . . "

"A preference for how long? . . . For a month, two days, or half anhour?" said the nervous gentleman, with special irritation. 

"No, permit me, you evidently are not talking of the same thing. "

"Yes, I am talking absolutely of the same thing. Of the preferencefor one man or one woman to the exclusion of all others. But I ask: apreference for how long?"

"For how long? For a long time, for a life-time sometimes. "

"But that happens only in novels. In life, never. In life thispreference for one to the exclusion of all others lasts in rare casesseveral years, oftener several months, or even weeks, days, hours. . . . "

"Oh, sir. Oh, no, no, permit me, " said all three of us at the same time. 

The clerk himself uttered a monosyllable of disapproval. 

"Yes, I know, " he said, shouting louder than all of us; "you are talkingof what is believed to exist, and I am talking of what is. Every manfeels what you call love toward each pretty woman he sees, and verylittle toward his wife. That is the origin of the proverb, --and it isa true one, --'Another's wife is a white swan, and ours is bitterwormwood. "'

"Ah, but what you say is terrible! There certainly exists among humanbeings this feeling which is called love, and which lasts, not formonths and years, but for life. "

"No, that does not exist. Even if it should be admitted that Menelaushad preferred Helen all his life, Helen would have preferred Paris; andso it has been, is, and will be eternally. And it cannot be otherwise, just as it cannot happen that, in a load of chick-peas, two peas markedwith a special sign should fall side by side. Further, this is not onlyan improbability, but it is certain that a feeling of satiety will cometo Helen or to Menelaus. The whole difference is that to one it comessooner, to the other later. It is only in stupid novels that it iswritten that 'they loved each other all their lives. ' And none butchildren can believe it. To talk of loving a man or woman for life islike saying that a candle can burn forever. "

"But you are talking of physical love. Do you not admit a love basedupon a conformity of ideals, on a spiritual affinity?"

"Why not? But in that case it is not necessary to procreate together(excuse my brutality). The point is that this conformity of ideals isnot met among old people, but among young and pretty persons, " said he, and he began to laugh disagreeably. 

"Yes, I affirm that love, real love, does not consecrate marriage, as weare in the habit of believing, but that, on the contrary, it ruins it. "

"Permit me, " said the lawyer. "The facts contradict your words. Wesee that marriage exists, that all humanity--at least the largerportion--lives conjugally, and that many husbands and wives honestly enda long life together. "

The nervous gentleman smiled ill-naturedly. 

"And what then? You say that marriage is based upon love, and when Igive voice to a doubt as to the existence of any other love than sensuallove, you prove to me the existence of love by marriage. But in our daymarriage is only a violence and falsehood. "

"No, pardon me, " said the lawyer. "I say only that marriages haveexisted and do exist. "

"But how and why do they exist? They have existed, and they do exist, for people who have seen, and do see, in marriage something sacramental, a sacrament that is binding before God. For such people marriages exist, but to us they are only hypocrisy and violence. We feel it, and, toclear ourselves, we preach free love; but, really, to preach free loveis only a call backward to the promiscuity of the sexes (excuse me, he said to the lady), the haphazard sin of certain raskolniks. The oldfoundation is shattered; we must build a new one, but we must not preachdebauchery. "

He grew so warm that all became silent, looking at him in astonishment. 

"And yet the transition state is terrible. People feel that haphazardsin is inadmissible. It is necessary in some way or other to regulatethe sexual relations; but there exists no other foundation than the oldone, in which nobody longer believes? People marry in the old fashion, without believing in what they do, and the result is falsehood, violence. When it is falsehood alone, it is easily endured. The husbandand wife simply deceive the world by professing to live monogamically. If they really are polygamous and polyandrous, it is bad, butacceptable. But when, as often happens, the husband and the wife havetaken upon themselves the obligation to live together all their lives(they themselves do not know why), and from the second month havealready a desire to separate, but continue to live together just thesame, then comes that infernal existence in which they resort to drink, in which they fire revolvers, in which they assassinate each other, inwhich they poison each other. "

All were silent, but we felt ill at ease. 

"Yes, these critical episodes happen in marital life. For instance, there is the Posdnicheff affair, " said the lawyer, wishing to stop theconversation on this embarrassing and too exciting ground. "Have youread how he killed his wife through jealousy?"

The lady said that she had not read it. The nervous gentleman saidnothing, and changed color. 

"I see that you have divined who I am, " said he, suddenly, after apause. 

"No, I have not had that pleasure. "

"It is no great pleasure. I am Posdnicheff. "

New silence. He blushed, then turned pale again. 

"What matters it, however?" said he. "Excuse me, I do not wish toembarrass you. "

And he resumed his old seat. 

CHAPTER III. 

I resumed mine, also. The lawyer and the lady whispered together. I wassitting beside Posdnicheff, and I maintained silence. I desired to talkto him, but I did not know how to begin, and thus an hour passed untilwe reached the next station. 

There the lawyer and the lady went out, as well as the clerk. We wereleft alone, Posdnicheff and I. 

"They say it, and they lie, or they do not understand, " saidPosdnicheff. 

"Of what are you talking?"

"Why, still the same thing. "

He leaned his elbows upon his knees, and pressed his hands against histemples. 

"Love, marriage, family, --all lies, lies, lies. "

He rose, lowered the lamp-shade, lay down with his elbows on thecushion, and closed his eyes. He remained thus for a minute. 

"Is it disagreeable to you to remain with me, now that you know who Iam?"

"Oh, no. "

"You have no desire to sleep?"

"Not at all. "

"Then do you want me to tell you the story of my life?"

Just then the conductor passed. He followed him with an ill-naturedlook, and did not begin until he had gone again. Then during all therest of the story he did not stop once. Even the new travellers as theyentered did not stop him. 

His face, while he was talking, changed several times so completelythat it bore positively no resemblance to itself as it had appeared justbefore. His eyes, his mouth, his moustache, and even his beard, all werenew. Each time it was a beautiful and touching physiognomy, and thesetransformations were produced suddenly in the penumbra; and for fiveminutes it was the same face, that could not be compared to that of fiveminutes before. And then, I know not how, it changed again, and becameunrecognizable. 

CHAPTER IV. 

"Well, I am going then to tell you my life, and my whole frightfulhistory, --yes, frightful. And the story itself is more frightful thanthe outcome. "

He became silent for a moment, passed his hands over his eyes, andbegan:--

"To be understood clearly, the whole must be told from the beginning. Itmust be told how and why I married, and what I was before my marriage. First, I will tell you who I am. The son of a rich gentleman of thesteppes, an old marshal of the nobility, I was a University pupil, agraduate of the law school. I married in my thirtieth year. But beforetalking to you of my marriage, I must tell you how I lived formerly, and what ideas I had of conjugal life. I led the life of so many otherso-called respectable people, --that is, in debauchery. And like themajority, while leading the life of a debauche, I was convinced that Iwas a man of irreproachable morality. 

"The idea that I had of my morality arose from the fact that in myfamily there was no knowledge of those special debaucheries, so commonin the surroundings of land-owners, and also from the fact that myfather and my mother did not deceive each other. In consequence of this, I had built from childhood a dream of high and poetical conjugallife. My wife was to be perfection itself, our mutual love was to beincomparable, the purity of our conjugal life stainless. I thought thus, and all the time I marvelled at the nobility of my projects. 

"At the same time, I passed ten years of my adult life without hurryingtoward marriage, and I led what I called the well-regulated andreasonable life of a bachelor. I was proud of it before my friends, and before all men of my age who abandoned themselves to all sorts ofspecial refinements. I was not a seducer, I had no unnatural tastes, I did not make debauchery the principal object of my life; but I foundpleasure within the limits of society's rules, and innocently believedmyself a profoundly moral being. The women with whom I had relations didnot belong to me alone, and I asked of them nothing but the pleasure ofthe moment. 

"In all this I saw nothing abnormal. On the contrary, from the factthat I did not engage my heart, but paid in cash, I supposed that I washonest. I avoided those women who, by attaching themselves to me, orpresenting me with a child, could bind my future. Moreover, perhapsthere may have been children or attachments; but I so arranged mattersthat I could not become aware of them. 

"And living thus, I considered myself a perfectly honest man. I did notunderstand that debauchery does not consist simply in physicalacts, that no matter what physical ignominy does not yet constitutedebauchery, and that real debauchery consists in freedom from the moralbonds toward a woman with whom one enters into carnal relations, and Iregarded THIS FREEDOM as a merit. I remember that I once tortured myselfexceedingly for having forgotten to pay a woman who probably had givenherself to me through love. I only became tranquil again when, havingsent her the money, I had thus shown her that I did not consider myselfas in any way bound to her. Oh, do not shake your head as if you werein agreement with me (he cried suddenly with vehemence). I know thesetricks. All of you, and you especially, if you are not a rare exception, have the same ideas that I had then. If you are in agreement with me, itis now only. Formerly you did not think so. No more did I; and, if I hadbeen told what I have just told you, that which has happened would nothave happened. However, it is all the same. Excuse me (he continued):the truth is that it is frightful, frightful, frightful, this abyssof errors and debaucheries in which we live face to face with the realquestion of the rights of woman. " . . . 

"What do you mean by the 'real' question of the rights of woman?"

"The question of the nature of this special being, organized otherwisethan man, and how this being and man ought to view the wife. . . . "

CHAPTER V. 

"Yes: for ten years I lived the most revolting existence, while dreamingof the noblest love, and even in the name of that love. Yes, I wantto tell you how I killed my wife, and for that I must tell you how Idebauched myself. I killed her before I knew her. 

"I killed THE wife when I first tasted sensual joys without love, andthen it was that I killed MY wife. Yes, sir: it is only after havingsuffered, after having tortured myself, that I have come to understandthe root of things, that I have come to understand my crimes. Thus youwill see where and how began the drama that has led me to misfortune. 

"It is necessary to go back to my sixteenth year, when I was still atschool, and my elder brother a first-year student. I had not yet knownwomen but, like all the unfortunate children of our society, I wasalready no longer innocent. I was tortured, as you were, I am sure, andas are tortured ninety-nine one-hundredths of our boys. I lived in afrightful dread, I prayed to God, and I prostrated myself. 

"I was already perverted in imagination, but the last steps remained tobe taken. I could still escape, when a friend of my brother, a verygay student, one of those who are called good fellows, --that is, thegreatest of scamps, --and who had taught us to drink and play cards, tookadvantage of a night of intoxication to drag us THERE. We started. My brother, as innocent as I, fell that night, and I, a mere lad ofsixteen, polluted myself and helped to pollute a sister-woman, withoutunderstanding what I did. Never had I heard from my elders that what Ithus did was bad. It is true that there are the ten commandments ofthe Bible; but the commandments are made only to be recited beforethe priests at examinations, and even then are not as exacting as thecommandments in regard to the use of ut in conditional propositions. 

"Thus, from my elders, whose opinion I esteemed, I had never heardthat this was reprehensible. On the contrary, I had heard people whomI respected say that it was good. I had heard that my struggles and mysufferings would be appeased after this act. I had heard it and read it. I had heard from my elders that it was excellent for the health, and myfriends have always seemed to believe that it contained I know not whatmerit and valor. So nothing is seen in it but what is praiseworthy. As for the danger of disease, it is a foreseen danger. Does not thegovernment guard against it? And even science corrupts us. "

"How so, science?" I asked. 

"Why, the doctors, the pontiffs of science. Who pervert young peopleby laying down such rules of hygiene? Who pervert women by devising andteaching them ways by which not to have children?

"Yes: if only a hundredth of the efforts spent in curing diseases werespent in curing debauchery, disease would long ago have ceased to exist, whereas now all efforts are employed, not in extirpating debauchery, but in favoring it, by assuring the harmlessness of the consequences. Besides, it is not a question of that. It is a question of thisfrightful thing that has happened to me, as it happens to nine-tenths, if not more, not only of the men of our society, but of all societies, even peasants, --this frightful thing that I had fallen, and not becauseI was subjected to the natural seduction of a certain woman. No, nowoman seduced me. I fell because the surroundings in which I foundmyself saw in this degrading thing only a legitimate function, usefulto the health; because others saw in it simply a natural amusement, notonly excusable, but even innocent in a young man. I did not understandthat it was a fall, and I began to give myself to those pleasures(partly from desire and partly from necessity) which I was led tobelieve were characteristic of my age, just as I had begun to drink andsmoke. 

"And yet there was in this first fall something peculiar and touching. Iremember that straightway I was filled with such a profound sadness thatI had a desire to weep, to weep over the loss forever of my relationswith woman. Yes, my relations with woman were lost forever. Purerelations with women, from that time forward, I could no longer have. I had become what is called a voluptuary; and to be a voluptuary is aphysical condition like the condition of a victim of the morphine habit, of a drunkard, and of a smoker. 

"Just as the victim of the morphine habit, the drunkard, the smoker, isno longer a normal man, so the man who has known several women forhis pleasure is no longer normal? He is abnormal forever. He is avoluptuary. Just as the drunkard and the victim of the morphine habitmay be recognized by their face and manner, so we may recognize avoluptuary. He may repress himself and struggle, but nevermore will heenjoy simple, pure, and fraternal relations toward woman. By his way ofglancing at a young woman one may at once recognize a voluptuary; and Ibecame a voluptuary, and I have remained one. "

CHAPTER VI. 

"Yes, so it is; and that went farther and farther with all sorts ofvariations. My God! when I remember all my cowardly acts and bad deeds, I am frightened. And I remember that 'me' who, during that period, wasstill the butt of his comrades' ridicule on account of his innocence. 

"And when I hear people talk of the gilded youth, of the officers, ofthe Parisians, and all these gentlemen, and myself, living wild livesat the age of thirty, and who have on our consciences hundreds ofcrimes toward women, terrible and varied, when we enter a parlor or aball-room, washed, shaven, and perfumed, with very white linen, in dresscoats or in uniform, as emblems of purity, oh, the disgust! Therewill surely come a time, an epoch, when all these lives and all thiscowardice will be unveiled!

"So, nevertheless, I lived, until the age of thirty, without abandoningfor a minute my intention of marrying, and building an elevated conjugallife; and with this in view I watched all young girls who might suit me. I was buried in rottenness, and at the same time I looked for virgins, whose purity was worthy of me! Many of them were rejected: they did notseem to me pure enough!

"Finally I found one that I considered on a level with myself. She wasone of two daughters of a landed proprietor of Penza, formerly very richand since ruined. To tell the truth, without false modesty, they pursuedme and finally captured me. The mother (the father was away) laid allsorts of traps, and one of these, a trip in a boat, decided my future. 

"I made up my mind at the end of the aforesaid trip one night, bymoonlight, on our way home, while I was sitting beside her. I admiredher slender body, whose charming shape was moulded by a jersey, and hercurling hair, and I suddenly concluded that THIS WAS SHE. It seemed tome on that beautiful evening that she understood all that I thought andfelt, and I thought and felt the most elevating things. 

"Really, it was only the jersey that was so becoming to her, and hercurly hair, and also the fact that I had spent the day beside her, andthat I desired a more intimate relation. 

"I returned home enthusiastic, and I persuaded myself that she realizedthe highest perfection, and that for that reason she was worthy to be mywife, and the next day I made to her a proposal of marriage. 

"No, say what you will, we live in such an abyss of falsehood, that, unless some event strikes us a blow on the head, as in my case, wecannot awaken. What confusion! Out of the thousands of men who marry, not only among us, but also among the people, scarcely will you finda single one who has not previously married at least ten times. (It istrue that there now exist, at least so I have heard, pure young peoplewho feel and know that this is not a joke, but a serious matter. May Godcome to their aid! But in my time there was not to be found one such ina thousand. )

"And all know it, and pretend not to know it. In all the novels aredescribed down to the smallest details the feelings of the characters, the lakes and brambles around which they walk; but, when it comes todescribing their GREAT love, not a word is breathed of what HE, theinteresting character, has previously done, not a word abouthis frequenting of disreputable houses, or his association withnursery-maids, cooks, and the wives of others. 

"And if anything is said of these things, such IMPROPER novels are notallowed in the hands of young girls. All men have the air of believing, in presence of maidens, that these corrupt pleasures, in which EVERYBODYtakes part, do not exist, or exist only to a very small extent. Theypretend it so carefully that they succeed in convincing themselves ofit. As for the poor young girls, they believe it quite seriously, justas my poor wife believed it. 

"I remember that, being already engaged, I showed her my 'memoirs, ' fromwhich she could learn more or less of my past, and especially my lastliaison which she might perhaps have discovered through the gossip ofsome third party. It was for this last reason, for that matter, that Ifelt the necessity of communicating these memoirs to her. I can stillsee her fright, her despair, her bewilderment, when she had learned andunderstood it. She was on the point of breaking the engagement. What alucky thing it would have been for both of us!"

Posdnicheff was silent for a moment, and then resumed:--

"After all, no! It is better that things happened as they did, better!"he cried. "It was a good thing for me. Besides, it makes no difference. I was saying that in these cases it is the poor young girls who aredeceived. As for the mothers, the mothers especially, informed by theirhusbands, they know all, and, while pretending to believe in the purityof the young man, they act as if they did not believe in it. 

"They know what bait must be held out to people for themselves and theirdaughters. We men sin through ignorance, and a determination not tolearn. As for the women, they know very well that the noblest and mostpoetic love, as we call it, depends, not on moral qualities, but on thephysical intimacy, and also on the manner of doing the hair, and thecolor and shape. 

"Ask an experienced coquette, who has undertaken to seduce a man, whichshe would prefer, --to be convicted, in presence of the man whom she isengaged in conquering, of falsehood, perversity, cruelty, or to appearbefore him in an ill-fitting dress, or a dress of an unbecoming color. She will prefer the first alternative. She knows very well that wesimply lie when we talk of our elevated sentiments, that we seek onlythe possession of her body, and that because of that we will forgive herevery sort of baseness, but will not forgive her a costume of an uglyshade, without taste or fit. 

"And these things she knows by reason, where as the maiden knows themonly by instinct, like the animal. Hence these abominable jerseys, theseartificial humps on the back, these bare shoulders, arms, and throats. 

"Women, especially those who have passed through the school of marriage, know very well that conversations upon elevated subjects are onlyconversations, and that man seeks and desires the body and all thatornaments the body. Consequently, they act accordingly? If we rejectconventional explanations, and view the life of our upper and lowerclasses as it is, with all its shamelessness, it is only a vastperversity. You do not share this opinion? Permit me, I am going toprove it to you (said he, interrupting me). 

"You say that the women of our society live for a different interestfrom that which actuates fallen women. And I say no, and I am goingto prove it to you. If beings differ from one another according tothe purpose of their life, according to their INNER LIFE, this willnecessarily be reflected also in their OUTER LIFE, and their exteriorwill be very different. Well, then, compare the wretched, the despised, with the women of the highest society: the same dresses, the samefashions, the same perfumeries, the same passion for jewelry, forbrilliant and very expensive articles, the same amusements, dances, music, and songs. The former attract by all possible means; so do thelatter. No difference, none whatever!

"Yes, and I, too, was captivated by jerseys, bustles, and curly hair. "

CHAPTER VII. 

"And it was very easy to capture me, since I was brought up underartificial conditions, like cucumbers in a hothouse. Our too abundantnourishment, together with complete physical idleness, is nothing butsystematic excitement of the imagination. The men of our society arefed and kept like reproductive stallions. It is sufficient to close thevalve, --that is, for a young man to live a quiet life for sometime, --to produce as an immediate result a restlessness, which, becomingexaggerated by reflection through the prism of our unnatural life, provokes the illusion of love. 

"All our idyls and marriage, all, are the result for the most part ofour eating. Does that astonish you? For my part, I am astonished thatwe do not see it. Not far from my estate this spring some moujikswere working on a railway embankment. You know what a peasant's foodis, --bread, kvass, * onions. With this frugal nourishment he lives, he isalert, he makes light work in the fields. But on the railway this billof fare becomes cacha and a pound of meat. Only he restores this meat bysixteen hours of labor pushing loads weighing twelve hundred pounds. 

 *Kvass, a sort of cider. 

"And we, who eat two pounds of meat and game, we who absorb all sortsof heating drinks and food, how do we expend it? In sensual excesses. If the valve is open, all goes well; but close it, as I had closed ittemporarily before my marriage, and immediately there will result anexcitement which, deformed by novels, verses, music, by our idle andluxurious life, will give a love of the finest water. I, too, fell inlove, as everybody does, and there were transports, emotions, poesy; butreally all this passion was prepared by mamma and the dressmakers. Ifthere had been no trips in boats, no well-fitted garments, etc. , ifmy wife had worn some shapeless blouse, and I had seen her thus at herhome, I should not have been seduced. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

"And note, also, this falsehood, of which all are guilty; the way inwhich marriages are made. What could there be more natural? The younggirl is marriageable, she should marry. What simpler, provided the youngperson is not a monster, and men can be found with a desire to marry?Well, no, here begins a new hypocrisy. 

"Formerly, when the maiden arrived at a favorable age, her marriage wasarranged by her parents. That was done, that is done still, throughouthumanity, among the Chinese, the Hindoos, the Mussulmans, and among ourcommon people also. Things are so managed in at least ninety-nine percent. Of the families of the entire human race. 

"Only we riotous livers have imagined that this way was bad, and haveinvented another. And this other, --what is it? It is this. The younggirls are seated, and the gentlemen walk up and down before them, as ina bazaar, and make their choice. The maidens wait and think, but donot dare to say: 'Take me, young man, me and not her. Look at theseshoulders and the rest. ' We males walk up and down, and estimate themerchandise, and then we discourse upon the rights of woman, upon theliberty that she acquires, I know not how, in the theatrical halls. "

"But what is to be done?" said I to him. "Shall the woman make theadvances?"

"I do not know. But, if it is a question of equality, let the equalitybe complete. Though it has been found that to contract marriages throughthe agency of match-makers is humiliating, it is nevertheless a thousandtimes preferable to our system. There the rights and the chances areequal; here the woman is a slave, exhibited in the market. But as shecannot bend to her condition, or make advances herself, there beginsthat other and more abominable lie which is sometimes called GOING INTOSOCIETY, sometimes AMUSING ONE'S SELF, and which is really nothing butthe hunt for a husband. 

"But say to a mother or to her daughter that they are engaged only in ahunt for a husband. God! What an offence! Yet they can do nothing else, and have nothing else to do; and the terrible feature of it all is tosee sometimes very young, poor, and innocent maidens haunted solely bysuch ideas. If only, I repeat, it were done frankly; but it is alwaysaccompanied with lies and babble of this sort:--

"'Ah, the descent of species! How interesting it is!'

"'Oh, Lily is much interested in painting. '

"'Shall you go to the Exposition? How charming it is!'

"'And the troika, and the plays, and the symphony. Ah, how adorable!'

"'My Lise is passionately fond of music. '

"'And you, why do you not share these convictions?'

"And through all this verbiage, all have but one single idea: 'Take me, take my Lise. No, me! Only try!"'

CHAPTER IX. 

"Do you know, " suddenly continued Posdnicheff, "that this power of womenfrom which the world suffers arises solely from what I have just spokenof?"

"What do you mean by the power of women?" I said. "Everybody, on thecontrary, complains that women have not sufficient rights, that they arein subjection. "

"That's it; that's it exactly, " said he, vivaciously. "That is just whatI mean, and that is the explanation of this extraordinary phenomenon, that on the one hand woman is reduced to the lowest degree ofhumiliation and on the other hand she reigns over everything. See theJews: with their power of money, they avenge their subjection, justas the women do. 'Ah! you wish us to be only merchants? All right;remaining merchants, we will get possession of you, ' say the Jews. 'Ah!you wish us to be only objects of sensuality? All right; by the aid ofsensuality we will bend you beneath our yoke, ' say the women. 

"The absence of the rights of woman does not consist in the fact thatshe has not the right to vote, or the right to sit on the bench, but inthe fact that in her affectional relations she is not the equal of man, she has not the right to abstain, to choose instead of being chosen. You say that that would be abnormal. Very well! But then do not let manenjoy these rights, while his companion is deprived of them, and findsherself obliged to make use of the coquetry by which she governs, sothat the result is that man chooses 'formally, ' whereas really it iswoman who chooses. As soon as she is in possession of her means, sheabuses them, and acquires a terrible supremacy. "

"But where do you see this exceptional power?"

"Where? Why, everywhere, in everything. Go see the stores in the largecities. There are millions there, millions. It is impossible to estimatethe enormous quantity of labor that is expended there. In nine-tenthsof these stores is there anything whatever for the use of men? All theluxury of life is demanded and sustained by woman. Count the factories;the greater part of them are engaged in making feminine ornaments. Millions of men, generations of slaves, die toiling like convicts simplyto satisfy the whims of our companions. 

"Women, like queens, keep nine-tenths of the human race as prisoners ofwar, or as prisoners at hard labor. And all this because they have beenhumiliated, because they have been deprived of rights equal to thosewhich men enjoy. They take revenge for our sensuality; they catch us intheir nets. 

"Yes, the whole thing is there. Women have made of themselves such aweapon to act upon the senses that a young man, and even an old man, cannot remain tranquil in their presence. Watch a popular festival, orour receptions or ball-rooms. Woman well knows her influence there. Youwill see it in her triumphant smiles. 

"As soon as a young man advances toward a woman, directly he falls underthe influence of this opium, and loses his head. Long ago I felt ill atease when I saw a woman too well adorned, --whether a woman of the peoplewith her red neckerchief and her looped skirt, or a woman of our ownsociety in her ball-room dress. But now it simply terrifies me. I see init a danger to men, something contrary to the laws; and I feel a desireto call a policeman, to appeal for defence from some quarter, to demandthat this dangerous object be removed. 

"And this is not a joke, by any means. I am convinced, I am sure, thatthe time will come--and perhaps it is not far distant--when the worldwill understand this, and will be astonished that a society could existin which actions as harmful as those which appeal to sensuality byadorning the body as our companions do were allowed. As well set trapsalong our public streets, or worse than that. "

CHAPTER X. 

"That, then, was the way in which I was captured. I was in love, asit is called; not only did she appear to me a perfect being, but Iconsidered myself a white blackbird. It is a commonplace fact that thereis no one so low in the world that he cannot find some one viler thanhimself, and consequently puff with pride and self-contentment. I was inthat situation. I did not marry for money. Interest was foreign to theaffair, unlike the marriages of most of my acquaintances, who marriedeither for money or for relations. First, I was rich, she was poor. Second, I was especially proud of the fact that, while others marriedwith an intention of continuing their polygamic life as bachelors, itwas my firm intention to live monogamically after my engagement and thewedding, and my pride swelled immeasurably. 

"Yes, I was a wretch, convinced that I was an angel. The period ofmy engagement did not last long. I cannot remember those days withoutshame. What an abomination!

"It is generally agreed that love is a moral sentiment, a community ofthought rather than of sense. If that is the case, this community ofthought ought to find expression in words and conversation. Nothing ofthe sort. It was extremely difficult for us to talk with each other. What a toil of Sisyphus was our conversation! Scarcely had we thought ofsomething to say, and said it, when we had to resume our silence and tryto discover new subjects. Literally, we did not know what to say to eachother. All that we could think of concerning the life that was before usand our home was said. 

"And then what? If we had been animals, we should have known that we hadnot to talk. But here, on the contrary, it was necessary to talk, andthere were no resources! For that which occupied our minds was not athing to be expressed in words. 

"And then that silly custom of eating bon-bons, that brutal gluttonyfor sweetmeats, those abominable preparations for the wedding, thosediscussions with mamma upon the apartments, upon the sleeping-rooms, upon the bedding, upon the morning-gowns, upon the wrappers, the linen, the costumes! Understand that if people married according to the oldfashion, as this old man said just now, then these eiderdown coverletsand this bedding would all be sacred details; but with us, out of tenmarried people there is scarcely to be found one who, I do not saybelieves in sacraments (whether he believes or not is a matter ofindifference to us), but believes in what he promises. Out of a hundredmen, there is scarcely one who has not married before, and out of fiftyscarcely one who has not made up his mind to deceive his wife. 

"The great majority look upon this journey to the church as a conditionnecessary to the possession of a certain woman. Think then of thesupreme significance which material details must take on. Is it not asort of sale, in which a maiden is given over to a debauche, the salebeing surrounded with the most agreeable details?"

CHAPTER XI. 

"All marry in this way. And I did like the rest. If the young people whodream of the honeymoon only knew what a disillusion it is, and always adisillusion! I really do not know why all think it necessary to concealit. 

"One day I was walking among the shows in Paris, when, attracted by asign, I entered an establishment to see a bearded woman and a water-dog. The woman was a man in disguise, and the dog was an ordinary dog, covered with a sealskin, and swimming in a bath. It was not in the leastinteresting, but the Barnum accompanied me to the exit very courteously, and, in addressing the people who were coming in, made an appeal to mytestimony. 'Ask the gentleman if it is not worth seeing! Come in, comein! It only costs a franc!' And in my confusion I did not dare to answerthat there was nothing curious to be seen, and it was upon my falseshame that the Barnum must have counted. 

"It must be the same with the persons who have passed through theabominations of the honeymoon. They do not dare to undeceive theirneighbor. And I did the same. 

"The felicities of the honeymoon do not exist. On the contrary, it is aperiod of uneasiness, of shame, of pity, and, above all, of ennui, --offerocious ennui. It is something like the feeling of a youth when he isbeginning to smoke. He desires to vomit; he drivels, and swallows hisdrivel, pretending to enjoy this little amusement. The vice of marriage. . . "

"What! Vice?" I said. "But you are talking of one of the most naturalthings. "

"Natural!" said he. "Natural! No, I consider on the contrary that itis against nature, and it is I, a perverted man, who have reached thisconviction. What would it be, then, if I had not known corruption? Toa young girl, to every unperverted young girl, it is an act extremelyunnatural, just as it is to children. My sister married, when veryyoung, a man twice her own age, and who was utterly corrupt. I rememberhow astonished we were the night of her wedding, when, pale and coveredwith tears, she fled from her husband, her whole body trembling, sayingthat for nothing in the world would she tell what he wanted of her. 

"You say natural? It is natural to eat; that is a pleasant, agreeablefunction, which no one is ashamed to perform from the time of his birth. No, it is not natural. A pure young girl wants one thing, --children. Children, yes, not a lover. " . . . 

"But, " said I, with astonishment, "how would the human race continue?"

"But what is the use of its continuing?" he rejoined, vehemently. 

"What! What is the use? But then we should not exist. "

"And why is it necessary that we should exist?"

"Why, to live, to be sure. "

"And why live? The Schopenhauers, the Hartmanns, and all the Buddhists, say that the greatest happiness is Nirvana, Non-Life; and they are rightin this sense, --that human happiness is coincident with the annihilationof 'Self. ' Only they do not express themselves well. They say thatHumanity should annihilate itself to avoid its sufferings, that itsobject should be to destroy itself. Now the object of Humanity cannotbe to avoid sufferings by annihilation, since suffering is the resultof activity. The object of activity cannot consist in suppressing itsconsequences. The object of Man, as of Humanity, is happiness, and, toattain it, Humanity has a law which it must carry out. This law consistsin the union of beings. This union is thwarted by the passions. Andthat is why, if the passions disappear, the union will be accomplished. Humanity then will have carried out the law, and will have no furtherreason to exist. "

"And before Humanity carries out the law?"

"In the meantime it will have the sign of the unfulfilled law, andthe existence of physical love. As long as this love shall exist, andbecause of it, generations will be born, one of which will finallyfulfil the law. When at last the law shall be fulfilled, the Human Racewill be annihilated. At least it is impossible for us to conceive ofLife in the perfect union of people. "

CHAPTER XII. 

"Strange theory!" cried I. 

"Strange in what? According to all the doctrines of the Church, theworld will have an end. Science teaches the same fatal conclusions. Why, then, is it strange that the same thing should result from moralDoctrine? 'Let those who can, contain, ' said Christ. And I take thispassage literally, as it is written. That morality may exist betweenpeople in their worldly relations, they must make complete chastitytheir object. In tending toward this end, man humiliates himself. Whenhe shall reach the last degree of humiliation, we shall have moralmarriage. 

"But if man, as in our society, tends only toward physical love, thoughhe may clothe it with pretexts and the false forms of marriage, he willhave only permissible debauchery, he will know only the same immorallife in which I fell and caused my wife to fall, a life which we callthe honest life of the family. Think what a perversion of ideas mustarise when the happiest situation of man, liberty, chastity, is lookedupon as something wretched and ridiculous. The highest ideal, the bestsituation of woman, to be pure, to be a vestal, a virgin, excites fearand laughter in our society. How many, how many young girls sacrificetheir purity to this Moloch of opinion by marrying rascals that theymay not remain virgins, --that is, superiors! Through fear of findingthemselves in that ideal state, they ruin themselves. 

"But I did not understand formerly, I did not understand that the wordsof the Gospel, that 'he who looks upon a woman to lust after her hasalready committed adultery, ' do not apply to the wives of others, butnotably and especially to our own wives. I did not understand this, andI thought that the honeymoon and all of my acts during that periodwere virtuous, and that to satisfy one's desires with his wife is aneminently chaste thing. Know, then, that I consider these departures, these isolations, which young married couples arrange with thepermission of their parents, as nothing else than a license to engage indebauchery. 

"I saw, then, in this nothing bad or shameful, and, hoping for greatjoys, I began to live the honeymoon. And very certainly none of thesejoys followed. But I had faith, and was determined to have them, cost what they might. But the more I tried to secure them, the lessI succeeded. All this time I felt anxious, ashamed, and weary. Soon Ibegan to suffer. I believe that on the third or fourth day I found mywife sad and asked her the reason. I began to embrace her, which in myopinion was all that she could desire. She put me away with her hand, and began to weep. 

"At what? She could not tell me. She was filled with sorrow, withanguish. Probably her tortured nerves had suggested to her the truthabout the baseness of our relations, but she found no words in which tosay it. I began to question her; she answered that she missed her absentmother. It seemed to me that she was not telling the truth. I sought toconsole her by maintaining silence in regard to her parents. I did notimagine that she felt herself simply overwhelmed, and that her parentshad nothing to do with her sorrow. She did not listen to me, and Iaccused her of caprice. I began to laugh at her gently. She dried hertears, and began to reproach me, in hard and wounding terms, for myselfishness and cruelty. 

"I looked at her. Her whole face expressed hatred, and hatred of me. Icannot describe to you the fright which this sight gave me. 'How? What?'thought I, 'love is the unity of souls, and here she hates me? Me? Why?But it is impossible! It is no longer she!'

"I tried to calm her. I came in conflict with an immovable and coldhostility, so that, having no time to reflect, I was seized with keenirritation. We exchanged disagreeable remarks. The impression of thisfirst quarrel was terrible. I say quarrel, but the term is inexact. Itwas the sudden discovery of the abyss that had been dug between us. Lovewas exhausted with the satisfaction of sensuality. We stood face toface in our true light, like two egoists trying to procure the greatestpossible enjoyment, like two individuals trying to mutually exploit eachother. 

"So what I called our quarrel was our actual situation as it appearedafter the satisfaction of sensual desire. I did not realize that thiscold hostility was our normal state, and that this first quarrel wouldsoon be drowned under a new flood of the intensest sensuality. I thoughtthat we had disputed with each other, and had become reconciled, andthat it would not happen again. But in this same honeymoon there came aperiod of satiety, in which we ceased to be necessary to each other, anda new quarrel broke out. 

"It became evident that the first was not a matter of chance. 'It wasinevitable, ' I thought. This second quarrel stupefied me the more, because it was based on an extremely unjust cause. It was something likea question of money, --and never had I haggled on that score; it was evenimpossible that I should do so in relation to her. I only remember that, in answer to some remark that I made, she insinuated that it was myintention to rule her by means of money, and that it was upon moneythat I based my sole right over her. In short, something extraordinarilystupid and base, which was neither in my character nor in hers. 

"I was beside myself. I accused her of indelicacy. She made the sameaccusation against me, and the dispute broke out. In her words, in theexpression of her face, of her eyes, I noticed again the hatred thathad so astonished me before. With a brother, friends, my father, I hadoccasionally quarrelled, but never had there been between us this fiercespite. Some time passed. Our mutual hatred was again concealed beneathan access of sensual desire, and I again consoled myself with thereflection that these scenes were reparable faults. 

"But when they were repeated a third and a fourth time, I understoodthat they were not simply faults, but a fatality that must happen again. I was no longer frightened, I was simply astonished that I should beprecisely the one to live so uncomfortably with my wife, and that thesame thing did not happen in other households. I did not know that inall households the same sudden changes take place, but that all, like myself, imagine that it is a misfortune exclusively reserved forthemselves alone, which they carefully conceal as shameful, not only toothers, but to themselves, like a bad disease. 

"That was what happened to me. Begun in the early days, it continued andincreased with characteristics of fury that were ever more pronounced. At the bottom of my soul, from the first weeks, I felt that I was in atrap, that I had what I did not expect, and that marriage is not a joy, but a painful trial. Like everybody else, I refused to confess it (Ishould not have confessed it even now but for the outcome). Now I amastonished to think that I did not see my real situation. It was so easyto perceive it, in view of those quarrels, begun for reasons so trivialthat afterwards one could not recall them. 

"Just as it often happens among gay young people that, in the absence ofjokes, they laugh at their own laughter, so we found no reasons for ourhatred, and we hated each other because hatred was naturally boilingup in us. More extraordinary still was the absence of causes forreconciliation. 

"Sometimes words, explanations, or even tears, but sometimes, Iremember, after insulting words, there tacitly followed embraces anddeclarations. Abomination! Why is it that I did not then perceive thisbaseness?"

CHAPTER XIII. 

"All of us, men and women, are brought up in these aberrations offeeling that we call love. I from childhood had prepared myself for thisthing, and I loved, and I loved during all my youth, and I was joyous inloving. It had been put into my head that it was the noblest and highestoccupation in the world. But when this expected feeling came at last, and I, a man, abandoned myself to it, the lie was pierced through andthrough. Theoretically a lofty love is conceivable; practically it isan ignoble and degrading thing, which it is equally disgusting totalk about and to remember. It is not in vain that nature has madeceremonies, but people pretend that the ignoble and the shameful isbeautiful and lofty. 

"I will tell you brutally and briefly what were the first signs of mylove. I abandoned myself to beastly excesses, not only not ashamed ofthem, but proud of them, giving no thought to the intellectual life ofmy wife. And not only did I not think of her intellectual life, I didnot even consider her physical life. 

"I was astonished at the origin of our hostility, and yet how clear itwas! This hostility is nothing but a protest of human nature against thebeast that enslaves it. It could not be otherwise. This hatred was thehatred of accomplices in a crime. Was it not a crime that, this poorwoman having become pregnant in the first month, our liaison should havecontinued just the same?

"You imagine that I am wandering from my story. Not at all. I am alwaysgiving you an account of the events that led to the murder of my wife. The imbeciles! They think that I killed my wife on the 5th of October. It was long before that that I immolated her, just as they all kill now. Understand well that in our society there is an idea shared by allthat woman procures man pleasure (and vice versa, probably, but I knownothing of that, I only know my own case). Wein, Weiber und Gesang. Sosay the poets in their verses: Wine, women, and song!

"If it were only that! Take all the poetry, the painting, the sculpture, beginning with Pouschkine's 'Little Feet, ' with 'Venus and Phryne, ' andyou will see that woman is only a means of enjoyment. That is what sheis at Trouba, * at Gratchevka, and in a court ball-room. And think ofthis diabolical trick: if she were a thing without moral value, it mightbe said that woman is a fine morsel; but, in the first place, theseknights assure us that they adore woman (they adore her and look uponher, however, as a means of enjoyment), then all assure us that theyesteem woman. Some give up their seats to her, pick up her handkerchief;others recognize in her a right to fill all offices, participate ingovernment, etc. , but, in spite of all that, the essential point remainsthe same. She is, she remains, an object of sensual desire, andshe knows it. It is slavery, for slavery is nothing else than theutilization of the labor of some for the enjoyment of others. Thatslavery may not exist people must refuse to enjoy the labor of others, and look upon it as a shameful act and as a sin. 

 *A suburb of Moscow. 

"Actually, this is what happens. They abolish the external form, theysuppress the formal sales of slaves, and then they imagine and assureothers that slavery is abolished. They are unwilling to see that itstill exists, since people, as before, like to profit by the labor ofothers, and think it good and just. This being given, there will alwaysbe found beings stronger or more cunning than others to profit thereby. The same thing happens in the emancipation of woman. At bottom feminineservitude consists entirely in her assimilation with a means ofpleasure. They excite woman, they give her all sorts of rights equal tothose of men, but they continue to look upon her as an object of sensualdesire, and thus they bring her up from infancy and in public opinion. 

"She is always the humiliated and corrupt serf, and man remains alwaysthe debauched Master. Yes, to abolish slavery, public opinion must admitthat it is shameful to exploit one's neighbor, and, to make woman free, public opinion must admit that it is shameful to consider woman as aninstrument of pleasure. 

"The emancipation of woman is not to be effected in the public courts orin the chamber of deputies, but in the sleeping chamber. Prostitution isto be combated, not in the houses of ill-fame, but in the family. Theyfree woman in the public courts and in the chamber of deputies, but sheremains an instrument. Teach her, as she is taught among us, to lookupon herself as such, and she will always remain an inferior being. Either, with the aid of the rascally doctors, she will try to preventconception, and descend, not to the level of an animal, but to thelevel of a thing; or she will be what she is in the great majority ofcases, --sick, hysterical, wretched, without hope of spiritual progress. ". . . 

"But why that?" I asked. 

"Oh! the most astonishing thing is that no one is willing to see thisthing, evident as it is, which the doctors must understand, but whichthey take good care not to do. Man does not wish to know the law ofnature, --children. But children are born and become an embarrassment. Then man devises means of avoiding this embarrassment. We have notyet reached the low level of Europe, nor Paris, nor the 'system of twochildren, ' nor Mahomet. We have discovered nothing, because we havegiven it no thought. We feel that there is something bad in the twofirst means; but we wish to preserve the family, and our view of womanis still worse. 

"With us woman must be at the same time mistress and nurse, and herstrength is not sufficient. That is why we have hysteria, nervousattacks, and, among the peasants, witchcraft. Note that among the younggirls of the peasantry this state of things does not exist, but onlyamong the wives, and the wives who live with their husbands. The reasonis clear, and this is the cause of the intellectual and moral decline ofwoman, and of her abasement. 

"If they would only reflect what a grand work for the wife is the periodof gestation! In her is forming the being who continues us, andthis holy work is thwarted and rendered painful . . . By what? It isfrightful to think of it! And after that they talk of the liberties andthe rights of woman! It is like the cannibals fattening their prisonersin order to devour them, and assuring these unfortunates at the sametime that their rights and their liberties are guarded!"

All this was new to me, and astonished me very much. 

"But if this is so, " said I, "it follows that one may love his wife onlyonce every two years; and as man" . . . 

"And as man has need of her, you are going to say. At least, so thepriests of science assure us. I would force these priests to fulfil thefunction of these women, who, in their opinion, are necessary to man. Iwonder what song they would sing then. Assure man that he needs brandy, tobacco, opium, and he will believe those poisons necessary. It followsthat God did not know how to arrange matters properly, since, withoutasking the opinions of the priests, he has combined things as they are. Man needs, so they have decided, to satisfy his sensual desire, and herethis function is disturbed by the birth and the nursing of children. 

"What, then, is to be done? Why, apply to the priests; they will arrangeeverything, and they have really discovered a way. When, then, willthese rascals with their lies be uncrowned! It is high time. We have hadenough of them. People go mad, and shoot each other with revolvers, andalways because of that! And how could it be otherwise?

"One would say that the animals know that descent continues their race, and that they follow a certain law in regard thereto. Only man does notknow this, and is unwilling to know it. He cares only to have as muchsensual enjoyment as possible. The king of nature, --man! In the name ofhis love he kills half the human race. Of woman, who ought to be his aidin the movement of humanity toward liberty, he makes, in the name of hispleasures, not an aid, but an enemy. Who is it that everywhere puts acheck upon the progressive movement of humanity? Woman. Why is it so?

"For the reason that I have given, and for that reason only. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

"Yes, much worse than the animal is man when he does not live as a man. Thus was I. The horrible part is that I believed, inasmuch as I did notallow myself to be seduced by other women that I was leading anhonest family life, that I was a very mortal being, and that if we hadquarrels, the fault was in my wife, and in her character. 

"But it is evident that the fault was not in her. She was like everybodyelse, like the majority. She was brought up according to the principlesexacted by the situation of our society, --that is, as all the younggirls of our wealthy classes, without exception, are brought up, andas they cannot fail to be brought up. How many times we hear or readof reflections upon the abnormal condition of women, and upon whatthey ought to be. But these are only vain words. The education of womenresults from the real and not imaginary view which the world entertainsof women's vocation. According to this view, the condition of womenconsists in procuring pleasure and it is to that end that her educationis directed. From her infancy she is taught only those things that arecalculated to increase her charm. Every young girl is accustomed tothink only of that. 

"As the serfs were brought up solely to please their masters, so womanis brought up to attract men. It cannot be otherwise. But you will say, perhaps, that that applies only to young girls who are badly brought up, but that there is another education, an education that is serious, inthe schools, an education in the dead languages, an education in theinstitutions of midwifery, an education in medical courses, and in othercourses. It is false. 

"Every sort of feminine education has for its sole object the attractionof men. 

"Some attract by music or curly hair, others by science or by civicvirtue. The object is the same, and cannot be otherwise (since no otherobject exists), --to seduce man in order to possess him. Imagine coursesof instruction for women and feminine science without men, --thatis, learned women, and men not KNOWING them as learned. Oh, no! Noeducation, no instruction can change woman as long as her highest idealshall be marriage and not virginity, freedom from sensuality. Untilthat time she will remain a serf. One need only imagine, forgetting theuniversality of the case, the conditions in which our young girls arebrought up, to avoid astonishment at the debauchery of the women of ourupper classes. It is the opposite that would cause astonishment. 

"Follow my reasoning. From infancy garments, ornaments, cleanliness, grace, dances, music, reading of poetry, novels, singing, the theatre, the concert, for use within and without, according as women listen, orpractice themselves. With that, complete physical idleness, an excessivecare of the body, a vast consumption of sweetmeats; and God knows howthe poor maidens suffer from their own sensuality, excited by all thesethings. Nine out of ten are tortured intolerably during the first periodof maturity, and afterward provided they do not marry at the age oftwenty. That is what we are unwilling to see, but those who haveeyes see it all the same. And even the majority of these unfortunatecreatures are so excited by a hidden sensuality (and it is lucky if itis hidden) that they are fit for nothing. They become animated onlyin the presence of men. Their whole life is spent in preparations forcoquetry, or in coquetry itself. In the presence of men they become tooanimated; they begin to live by sensual energy. But the moment the mangoes away, the life stops. 

"And that, not in the presence of a certain man, but in the presence ofany man, provided he is not utterly hideous. You will say that this isan exception. No, it is a rule. Only in some it is made very evident, inother less so. But no one lives by her own life; they are all dependentupon man. They cannot be otherwise, since to them the attraction of thegreatest number of men is the ideal of life (young girls and marriedwomen), and it is for this reason that they have no feeling strongerthan that of the animal need of every female who tries to attract thelargest number of males in order to increase the opportunities forchoice. So it is in the life of young girls, and so it continuesduring marriage. In the life of young girls it is necessary in order toselection, and in marriage it is necessary in order to rule thehusband. Only one thing suppresses or interrupts these tendencies fora time, --namely, children, --and then only when the woman is not amonster, --that is, when she nurses her own children. Here again thedoctor interferes. 

"With my wife, who desired to nurse her own children, and who did nursesix of them, it happened that the first child was sickly. The doctors, who cynically undressed her and felt of her everywhere, and whom I hadto thank and pay for these acts, --these dear doctors decided that sheought not to nurse her child, and she was temporarily deprived ofthe only remedy for coquetry. A nurse finished the nursing of thisfirst-born, --that is to say, we profited by the poverty and ignorance ofa woman to steal her from her own little one in favor of ours, and forthat purpose we dressed her in a kakoschnik trimmed with gold lace. Nevertheless, that is not the question; but there was again awakened inmy wife that coquetry which had been sleeping during the nursing period. Thanks to that, she reawakened in me the torments of jealousy which Ihad formerly known, though in a much slighter degree. "

CHAPTER XV. 

"Yes, jealousy, that is another of the secrets of marriage known to alland concealed by all. Besides the general cause of the mutual hatred ofhusbands and wives resulting from complicity in the pollution of a humanbeing, and also from other causes, the inexhaustible source of maritalwounds is jealousy. But by tacit consent it is determined to concealthem from all, and we conceal them. Knowing them, each one supposes inhimself that it is an unfortunate peculiarity, and not a common destiny. So it was with me, and it had to be so. There cannot fail to be jealousybetween husbands and wives who live immorally. If they cannot sacrificetheir pleasures for the welfare of their child, they conclude therefrom, and truly, that they will not sacrifice their pleasures for, I will notsay happiness and tranquillity (since one may sin in secret), but evenfor the sake of conscience. Each one knows very well that neither admitsany high moral reasons for not betraying the other, since in theirmutual relations they fail in the requirements of morality, and fromthat time distrust and watch each other. 

"Oh, what a frightful feeling of jealousy! I do not speak of that realjealousy which has foundations (it is tormenting, but it promises anissue), but of that unconscious jealousy which inevitably accompaniesevery immoral marriage, and which, having no cause, has no end. Thisjealousy is frightful. Frightful, that is the word. 

"And this is it. A young man speaks to my wife. He looks at her with asmile, and, as it seems to me, he surveys her body. How does he dare tothink of her, to think of the possibility of a romance with her? And howcan she, seeing this, tolerate him? Not only does she tolerate him, butshe seems pleased. I even see that she puts herself to trouble on hisaccount. And in my soul there rises such a hatred for her that each ofher words, each gesture, disgusts me. She notices it, she knows not whatto do, and how assume an air of indifferent animation? Ah! I suffer!That makes her gay, she is content. And my hatred increases tenfold, butI do not dare to give it free force, because at the bottom of my soulI know that there are no real reasons for it, and I remain in my seat, feigning indifference, and exaggerating my attention and courtesy toHIM. 

"Then I get angry with myself. I desire to leave the room, to leave themalone, and I do, in fact, go out; but scarcely am I outside when I aminvaded by a fear of what is taking place within my absence. I go inagain, inventing some pretext. Or sometimes I do not go in; I remainnear the door, and listen. How can she humiliate herself and humiliateme by placing me in this cowardly situation of suspicion and espionage?Oh, abomination! Oh, the wicked animal! And he too, what does he thinkof you? But he is like all men. He is what I was before my marriage. Itgives him pleasure. He even smiles when he looks at me, as much as tosay: 'What have you to do with this? It is my turn now. '

"This feeling is horrible. Its burn is unendurable. To entertain thisfeeling toward any one, to once suspect a man of lusting after my wife, was enough to spoil this man forever in my eyes, as if he had beensprinkled with vitriol. Let me once become jealous of a being, andnevermore could I re-establish with him simple human relations, and myeyes flashed when I looked at him. 

"As for my wife, so many times had I enveloped her with this moralvitriol, with this jealous hatred, that she was degraded thereby. In theperiods of this causeless hatred I gradually uncrowned her. I coveredher with shame in my imagination. 

"I invented impossible knaveries. I suspected, I am ashamed to say, thatshe, this queen of 'The Thousand and One Nights, ' deceived me with myserf, under my very eyes, and laughing at me. 

"Thus, with each new access of jealousy (I speak always of causelessjealousy), I entered into the furrow dug formerly by my filthysuspicions, and I continually deepened it. She did the same thing. IfI have reasons to be jealous, she who knew my past had a thousand timesmore. And she was more ill-natured in her jealousy than I. And thesufferings that I felt from her jealousy were different, and likewisevery painful. 

"The situation may be described thus. We are living more or lesstranquilly. I am even gay and contented. Suddenly we start aconversation on some most commonplace subject, and directly she findsherself disagreeing with me upon matters concerning which we have beengenerally in accord. And furthermore I see that, without any necessitytherefor, she is becoming irritated. I think that she has a nervousattack, or else that the subject of conversation is really disagreeableto her. We talk of something else, and that begins again. Again shetorments me, and becomes irritated. I am astonished and look for areason. Why? For what? She keeps silence, answers me with monosyllables, evidently making allusions to something. I begin to divine that thereason of all this is that I have taken a few walks in the garden withher cousin, to whom I did not give even a thought. I begin todivine, but I cannot say so. If I say so, I confirm her suspicions. Iinterrogate her, I question her. She does not answer, but she sees thatI understand, and that confirms her suspicions. 

"'What is the matter with you?' I ask. 

"'Nothing, I am as well as usual, ' she answers. 

"And at the same time, like a crazy woman, she gives utterance to thesilliest remarks, to the most inexplicable explosions of spite. 

"Sometimes I am patient, but at other times I break out with anger. Thenher own irritation is launched forth in a flood of insults, in chargesof imaginary crimes and all carried to the highest degree by sobs, tears, and retreats through the house to the most improbable spots. Igo to look for her. I am ashamed before people, before the children, butthere is nothing to be done. She is in a condition where I feel that sheis ready for anything. I run, and finally find her. Nights of torturefollow, in which both of us, with exhausted nerves, appease each other, after the most cruel words and accusations. 

"Yes, jealousy, causeless jealousy, is the condition of our debauchedconjugal life. And throughout my marriage never did I cease to feel itand to suffer from it. There were two periods in which I suffered mostintensely. The first time was after the birth of our first child, when the doctors had forbidden my wife to nurse it. I was particularlyjealous, in the first place, because my wife felt that restlessnesspeculiar to animal matter when the regular course of life is interruptedwithout occasion. But especially was I jealous because, having seenwith what facility she had thrown off her moral duties as a mother, Iconcluded rightly, though unconsciously, that she would throw off aseasily her conjugal duties, feeling all the surer of this because shewas in perfect health, as was shown by the fact that, in spite of theprohibition of the dear doctors, she nursed her following children, andeven very well. "

"I see that you have no love for the doctors, " said I, having noticedPosdnicheff's extraordinarily spiteful expression of face and tone ofvoice whenever he spoke of them. 

"It is not a question of loving them or of not loving them. They haveruined my life, as they have ruined the lives of thousands of beingsbefore me, and I cannot help connecting the consequence with the cause. I conceive that they desire, like the lawyers and the rest, to makemoney. I would willingly have given them half of my income--and any onewould have done it in my place, understanding what they do--if they hadconsented not to meddle in my conjugal life, and to keep themselves at adistance. I have compiled no statistics, but I know scores of cases--inreality, they are innumerable--where they have killed, now a child inits mother's womb, asserting positively that the mother could not givebirth to it (when the mother could give birth to it very well), nowmothers, under the pretext of a so-called operation. No one has countedthese murders, just as no one counted the murders of the Inquisition, because it was supposed that they were committed for the benefit ofhumanity. Innumerable are the crimes of the doctors! But all thesecrimes are nothing compared with the materialistic demoralization whichthey introduce into the world through women. I say nothing of the factthat, if it were to follow their advice, --thanks to the microbe whichthey see everywhere, --humanity, instead of tending to union, wouldproceed straight to complete disunion. Everybody, according to theirdoctrine, should isolate himself, and never remove from his mouth asyringe filled with phenic acid (moreover, they have found out now thatit does no good). But I would pass over all these things. The supremepoison is the perversion of people, especially of women. One can nolonger say now: 'You live badly, live better. ' One can no longer sayit either to himself or to others, for, if you live badly (say thedoctors), the cause is in the nervous system or in something similar, and it is necessary to go to consult them, and they will prescribefor you thirty-five copecks' worth of remedies to be bought at thedrug-store, and you must swallow them. Your condition grows worse? Againto the doctors, and more remedies! An excellent business!

"But to return to our subject. I was saying that my wife nursed herchildren well, that the nursing and the gestation of the children, andthe children in general, quieted my tortures of jealousy, but that, onthe other hand, they provoked torments of a different sort. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

"The children came rapidly, one after another, and there happenedwhat happens in our society with children and doctors. Yes, children, maternal love, it is a painful thing. Children, to a woman of oursociety, are not a joy, a pride, nor a fulfilment of her vocation, buta cause of fear, anxiety, and interminable suffering, torture. Women sayit, they think it, and they feel it too. Children to them are really atorture, not because they do not wish to give birth to them, nurse them, and care for them (women with a strong maternal instinct--and such wasmy wife--are ready to do that), but because the children may fall sickand die. They do not wish to give birth to them, and then not love them;and when they love, they do not wish to feel fear for the child's healthand life. That is why they do not wish to nurse them. 'If I nurse it, 'they say, 'I shall become too fond of it. ' One would think that theypreferred india-rubber children, which could neither be sick nor die, and could always be repaired. What an entanglement in the brains ofthese poor women! Why such abominations to avoid pregnancy, and to avoidthe love of the little ones?

"Love, the most joyous condition of the soul, is represented as adanger. And why? Because, when a man does not live as a man, he isworse than a beast. A woman cannot look upon a child otherwise than asa pleasure. It is true that it is painful to give birth to it, but whatlittle hands! . . . Oh, the little hands! Oh, the little feet! Oh, itssmile! Oh, its little body! Oh, its prattle! Oh, its hiccough! In aword, it is a feeling of animal, sensual maternity. But as for any ideaas to the mysterious significance of the appearance of a new human beingto replace us, there is scarcely a sign of it. 

"Nothing of it appears in all that is said and done. No one has anyfaith now in a baptism of the child, and yet that was nothing but areminder of the human significance of the newborn babe. 

"They have rejected all that, but they have not replaced it, and thereremain only the dresses, the laces, the little hands, the littlefeet, and whatever exists in the animal. But the animal has neitherimagination, nor foresight, nor reason, nor a doctor. 

"No! not even a doctor! The chicken droops its head, overwhelmed, or thecalf dies; the hen clucks and the cow lows for a time, and then thesebeasts continue to live, forgetting what has happened. 

"With us, if the child falls sick, what is to be done, how to care forit, what doctor to call, where to go? If it dies, there will be no morelittle hands or little feet, and then what is the use of the sufferingsendured? The cow does not ask all that, and this is why children are asource of misery. The cow has no imagination, and for that reason cannotthink how it might have saved the child if it had done this or that, andits grief, founded in its physical being, lasts but a very short time. It is only a condition, and not that sorrow which becomes exaggeratedto the point of despair, thanks to idleness and satiety. The cow has notthat reasoning faculty which would enable it to ask the why. Why endureall these tortures? What was the use of so much love, if the littleones were to die? The cow has no logic which tells it to have no morechildren, and, if any come accidentally, to neither love nor nurse them, that it may not suffer. But our wives reason, and reason in this way, and that is why I said that, when a man does not live as a man, he isbeneath the animal. "

"But then, how is it necessary to act, in your opinion, in order totreat children humanly?" I asked. 

"How? Why, love them humanly. "

"Well, do not mothers love their children?"

"They do not love them humanly, or very seldom do, and that is why theydo not love them even as dogs. Mark this, a hen, a goose, a wolf, willalways remain to woman inaccessible ideals of animal love. It is a rarething for a woman to throw herself, at the peril of her life, upon anelephant to snatch her child away, whereas a hen or a sparrow will notfail to fly at a dog and sacrifice itself utterly for its children. Observe this, also. Woman has the power to limit her physical love forher children, which an animal cannot do. Does that mean that, because ofthis, woman is inferior to the animal? No. She is superior (and even tosay superior is unjust, she is not superior, she is different), but shehas other duties, human duties. She can restrain herself in the matterof animal love, and transfer her love to the soul of the child. That iswhat woman's role should be, and that is precisely what we do not see inour society. We read of the heroic acts of mothers who sacrifice theirchildren in the name of a superior idea, and these things seem to uslike tales of the ancient world, which do not concern us. And yet Ibelieve that, if the mother has not some ideal, in the name of which shecan sacrifice the animal feeling, and if this force finds no employment, she will transfer it to chimerical attempts to physically preserve herchild, aided in this task by the doctor, and she will suffer as she doessuffer. 

"So it was with my wife. Whether there was one child or five, thefeeling remained the same. In fact, it was a little better when therehad been five. Life was always poisoned with fear for the children, notonly from their real or imaginary diseases, but even by their simplepresence. For my part, at least, throughout my conjugal life, all myinterests and all my happiness depended upon the health of my children, their condition, their studies. Children, it is needless to say, are aserious consideration; but all ought to live, and in our days parentscan no longer live. Regular life does not exist for them. The whole lifeof the family hangs by a hair. What a terrible thing it is to suddenlyreceive the news that little Basile is vomiting, or that Lise has acramp in the stomach! Immediately you abandon everything, you forgeteverything, everything becomes nothing. The essential thing is thedoctor, the enema, the temperature. You cannot begin a conversation butlittle Pierre comes running in with an anxious air to ask if he may eatan apple, or what jacket he shall put on, or else it is the servant whoenters with a screaming baby. 

"Regular, steady family life does not exist. Where you live, andconsequently what you do, depends upon the health of the little ones, the health of the little ones depends upon nobody, and, thanks to thedoctors, who pretend to aid health, your entire life is disturbed. It isa perpetual peril. Scarcely do we believe ourselves out of it when a newdanger comes: more attempts to save. Always the situation of sailorson a foundering vessel. Sometimes it seemed to me that this was done onpurpose, that my wife feigned anxiety in order to conquer me, since thatsolved the question so simply for her benefit. It seemed to me that allthat she did at those times was done for its effect upon me, but now Isee that she herself, my wife, suffered and was tortured on account ofthe little ones, their health, and their diseases. 

"A torture to both of us, but to her the children were also a means offorgetting herself, like an intoxication. I often noticed, when she wasvery sad, that she was relieved, when a child fell sick, at being ableto take refuge in this intoxication. It was involuntary intoxication, because as yet there was nothing else. On every side we heard that Mrs. So-and-so had lost children, that Dr. So-and-so had saved the childof Mrs. So-and-so, and that in a certain family all had moved from thehouse in which they were living, and thereby saved the little ones. Andthe doctors, with a serious air, confirmed this, sustaining my wife inher opinions. She was not prone to fear, but the doctor dropped someword, like corruption of the blood, scarlatina, or else--heaven helpus--diphtheria, and off she went. 

"It was impossible for it to be otherwise. Women in the old days had thebelief that 'God has given, God has taken away, ' that the soul of thelittle angel is going to heaven, and that it is better to die innocentthan to die in sin. If the women of to-day had something like thisfaith, they could endure more peacefully the sickness of their children. But of all that there does not remain even a trace. And yet it isnecessary to believe in something; consequently they stupidly believe inmedicine, and not even in medicine, but in the doctor. One believes inX, another in Z, and, like all believers, they do not see the idiocy oftheir beliefs. They believe quia absurdum, because, in reality, if theydid not believe in a stupid way, they would see the vanity of all thatthese brigands prescribe for them. Scarlatina is a contagious disease;so, when one lives in a large city, half the family has to move awayfrom its residence (we did it twice), and yet every man in the city is acentre through which pass innumerable diameters, carrying threads of allsorts of contagions. There is no obstacle: the baker, the tailor, thecoachman, the laundresses. 

"And I would undertake, for every man who moves on account of contagion, to find in his new dwelling-place another contagion similar, if not thesame. 

"But that is not all. Every one knows rich people who, after a case ofdiphtheria, destroy everything in their residences, and then fall sickin houses newly built and furnished. Every one knows, likewise, numbersof men who come in contact with sick people and do not get infected. Ouranxieties are due to the people who circulate tall stories. One womansays that she has an excellent doctor. 'Pardon me, ' answers the other, 'he killed such a one, ' or such a one. And vice versa. Bring heranother, who knows no more, who learned from the same books, who treatsaccording to the same formulas, but who goes about in a carriage, andasks a hundred roubles a visit, and she will have faith in him. 

"It all lies in the fact that our women are savages. They have no beliefin God, but some of them believe in the evil eye, and the others indoctors who charge high fees. If they had faith they would know thatscarlatina, diphtheria, etc. , are not so terrible, since they cannotdisturb that which man can and should love, --the soul. There can resultfrom them only that which none of us can avoid, --disease and death. Without faith in God, they love only physically, and all their energy isconcentrated upon the preservation of life, which cannot be preserved, and which the doctors promise the fools of both sexes to save. And fromthat time there is nothing to be done; the doctors must be summoned. 

"Thus the presence of the children not only did not improve ourrelations as husband and wife, but, on the contrary, disunited us. Thechildren became an additional cause of dispute, and the larger theygrew, the more they became an instrument of struggle. 

"One would have said that we used them as weapons with which to combateach other. Each of us had his favorite. I made use of little Basile(the eldest), she of Lise. Further, when the children reached an agewhere their characters began to be defined, they became allies, which wedrew each in his or her own direction. They suffered horribly from this, the poor things, but we, in our perpetual hubbub, were not clear-headedenough to think of them. The little girl was devoted to me, but theeldest boy, who resembled my wife, his favorite, often inspired me withdislike. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

"We lived at first in the country, then in the city, and, if the finalmisfortune had not happened, I should have lived thus until my old ageand should then have believed that I had had a good life, --not too good, but, on the other hand, not bad, --an existence such as other peoplelead. I should not have understood the abyss of misfortune and ignoblefalsehood in which I floundered about, feeling that something was notright. I felt, in the first place, that I, a man, who, according to myideas, ought to be the master, wore the petticoats, and that I could notget rid of them. The principal cause of my subjection was the children. I should have liked to free myself, but I could not. Bringing up thechildren, and resting upon them, my wife ruled. I did not then realizethat she could not help ruling, especially because, in marrying, she wasmorally superior to me, as every young girl is incomparably superior tothe man, since she is incomparably purer. Strange thing! The ordinarywife in our society is a very commonplace person or worse, selfish, gossiping, whimsical, whereas the ordinary young girl, until the age oftwenty, is a charming being, ready for everything that is beautifuland lofty. Why is this so? Evidently because husbands pervert them, andlower them to their own level. 

"In truth, if boys and girls are born equal, the little girls findthemselves in a better situation. In the first place, the young girl isnot subjected to the perverting conditions to which we are subjected. She has neither cigarettes, nor wine, nor cards, nor comrades, norpublic houses, nor public functions. And then the chief thing is thatshe is physically pure, and that is why, in marrying, she is superiorto her husband. She is superior to man as a young girl, and when shebecomes a wife in our society, where there is no need to work in orderto live, she becomes superior, also, by the gravity of the acts ofgeneration, birth, and nursing. 

"Woman, in bringing a child into the world, and giving it her bosom, sees clearly that her affair is more serious than the affair of man, whosits in the Zemstvo, in the court. She knows that in these functions themain thing is money, and money can be made in different ways, and forthat very reason money is not inevitably necessary, like nursing achild. Consequently woman is necessarily superior to man, and must rule. But man, in our society, not only does not recognize this, but, onthe contrary, always looks upon her from the height of his grandeur, despising what she does. 

"Thus my wife despised me for my work at the Zemstvo, because she gavebirth to children and nursed them. I, in turn, thought that woman'slabor was most contemptible, which one might and should laugh at. 

"Apart from the other motives, we were also separated by a mutualcontempt. Our relations grew ever more hostile, and we arrived at thatperiod when, not only did dissent provoke hostility, but hostilityprovoked dissent. Whatever she might say, I was sure in advance to holda contrary opinion; and she the same. Toward the fourth year ofour marriage it was tacitly decided between us that no intellectualcommunity was possible, and we made no further attempts at it. As tothe simplest objects, we each held obstinately to our own opinions. Withstrangers we talked upon the most varied and most intimate matters, butnot with each other. Sometimes, in listening to my wife talk with othersin my presence, I said to myself: 'What a woman! Everything that shesays is a lie!' And I was astonished that the person with whom she wasconversing did not see that she was lying. When we were together; wewere condemned to silence, or to conversations which, I am sure, mighthave been carried on by animals. 

"'What time is it? It is bed-time. What is there for dinner to-day?Where shall we go? What is there in the newspaper? The doctor must besent for, Lise has a sore throat. '

"Unless we kept within the extremely narrow limits of such conversation, irritation was sure to ensue. The presence of a third person relievedus, for through an intermediary we could still communicate. She probablybelieved that she was always right. As for me, in my own eyes, I was asaint beside her. 

"The periods of what we call love arrived as often as formerly. Theywere more brutal, without refinement, without ornament; but they wereshort, and generally followed by periods of irritation without cause, irritation fed by the most trivial pretexts. We had spats about thecoffee, the table-cloth, the carriage, games of cards, --trifles, inshort, which could not be of the least importance to either of us. Asfor me, a terrible execration was continually boiling up within me. Iwatched her pour the tea, swing her foot, lift her spoon to her mouth, and blow upon hot liquids or sip them, and I detested her as if thesehad been so many crimes. 

"I did not notice that these periods of irritation depended veryregularly upon the periods of love. Each of the latter was followedby one of the former. A period of intense love was followed by a longperiod of anger; a period of mild love induced a mild irritation. We didnot understand that this love and this hatred were two opposite facesof the same animal feeling. To live thus would be terrible, if oneunderstood the philosophy of it. But we did not perceive this, we didnot analyze it. It is at once the torture and the relief of man that, when he lives irregularly, he can cherish illusions as to the miseriesof his situation. So did we. She tried to forget herself in sudden andabsorbing occupations, in household duties, the care of the furniture, her dress and that of her children, in the education of the latter, andin looking after their health. These were occupations that did not arisefrom any immediate necessity, but she accomplished them as if her lifeand that of her children depended on whether the pastry was allowedto burn, whether a curtain was hanging properly, whether a dress was asuccess, whether a lesson was well learned, or whether a medicine wasswallowed. 

"I saw clearly that to her all this was, more than anything else, ameans of forgetting, an intoxication, just as hunting, card-playing, andmy functions at the Zemstvo served the same purpose for me. It is truethat in addition I had an intoxication literally speaking, --tobacco, which I smoked in large quantities, and wine, upon which I did not getdrunk, but of which I took too much. Vodka before meals, and duringmeals two glasses of wine, so that a perpetual mist concealed theturmoil of existence. 

"These new theories of hypnotism, of mental maladies, of hysteria arenot simple stupidities, but dangerous or evil stupidities. Charcot, Iam sure, would have said that my wife was hysterical, and of me he wouldhave said that I was an abnormal being, and he would have wanted totreat me. But in us there was nothing requiring treatment. All thismental malady was the simple result of the fact that we were livingimmorally. Thanks to this immoral life, we suffered, and, to stifleour sufferings, we tried abnormal means, which the doctors call the'symptoms' of a mental malady, --hysteria. 

"There was no occasion in all this to apply for treatment to Charcotor to anybody else. Neither suggestion nor bromide would have beeneffective in working our cure. The needful thing was an examination ofthe origin of the evil. It is as when one is sitting on a nail; if yousee the nail, you see that which is irregular in your life, and youavoid it. Then the pain stops, without any necessity of stifling it. Ourpain arose from the irregularity of our life, and also my jealousy, my irritability, and the necessity of keeping myself in a state ofperpetual semi-intoxication by hunting, card-playing, and, above all, the use of wine and tobacco. It was because of this irregularity that mywife so passionately pursued her occupations. The sudden changes of herdisposition, from extreme sadness to extreme gayety, and her babble, arose from the need of forgetting herself, of forgetting her life, inthe continual intoxication of varied and very brief occupations. 

"Thus we lived in a perpetual fog, in which we did not distinguish ourcondition. We were like two galley-slaves fastened to the same ball, cursing each other, poisoning each other's existence, and trying toshake each other off. I was still unaware that ninety-nine families outof every hundred live in the same hell, and that it cannot be otherwise. I had not learned this fact from others or from myself. The coincidencesthat are met in regular, and even in irregular life, are surprising. Atthe very period when the life of parents becomes impossible, it becomesindispensable that they go to the city to live, in order to educatetheir children. That is what we did. "

Posdnicheff became silent, and twice there escaped him, in thehalf-darkness, sighs, which at that moment seemed to me like suppressedsobs. Then he continued. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

"So we lived in the city. In the city the wretched feel less sad. Onecan live there a hundred years without being noticed, and be dead a longtime before anybody will notice it. People have no time to inquire intoyour life. All are absorbed. Business, social relations, art, the healthof children, their education. And there are visits that must be receivedand made; it is necessary to see this one, it is necessary to hear thatone or the other one. In the city there are always one, two, or threecelebrities that it is indispensable that one should visit. 

"Now one must care for himself, or care for such or such a little one, now it is the professor, the private tutor, the governesses, . . . Andlife is absolutely empty. In this activity we were less conscious of thesufferings of our cohabitation. Moreover, in the first of it, we had asuperb occupation, --the arrangement of the new dwelling, and then, too, the moving from the city to the country, and from the country to thecity. 

"Thus we spent a winter. The following winter an incident happened to uswhich passed unnoticed, but which was the fundamental cause of all thathappened later. My wife was suffering, and the rascals (the doctors)would not permit her to conceive a child, and taught her how to avoidit. I was profoundly disgusted. I struggled vainly against it, butshe insisted frivolously and obstinately, and I surrendered. The lastjustification of our life as wretches was thereby suppressed, and lifebecame baser than ever. 

"The peasant and the workingman need children, and hence their conjugalrelations have a justification. But we, when we have a few children, have no need of any more. They make a superfluous confusion of expensesand joint heirs, and are an embarrassment. Consequently we have noexcuses for our existence as wretches, but we are so deeply degradedthat we do not see the necessity of a justification. The majority ofpeople in contemporary society give themselves up to this debaucherywithout the slightest remorse. We have no conscience left, except, so tospeak, the conscience of public opinion and of the criminal code. But inthis matter neither of these consciences is struck. There is not a beingin society who blushes at it. Each one practices it, --X, Y, Z, etc. Whatis the use of multiplying beggars, and depriving ourselves of the joysof social life? There is no necessity of having conscience before thecriminal code, or of fearing it: low girls, soldiers' wives who throwtheir children into ponds or wells, these certainly must be putin prison. But with us the suppression is effected opportunely andproperly. 

"Thus we passed two years more. The method prescribed by the rascals hadevidently succeeded. My wife had grown stouter and handsomer. It was thebeauty of the end of summer. She felt it, and paid much attention to herperson. She had acquired that provoking beauty that stirs men. She wasin all the brilliancy of the wife of thirty years, who conceives nochildren, eats heartily, and is excited. The very sight of her wasenough to frighten one. She was like a spirited carriage-horse that haslong been idle, and suddenly finds itself without a bridle. As for mywife, she had no bridle, as for that matter, ninety-nine hundredths ofour women have none. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

Posdnicheff's face had become transformed; his eyes were pitiable; theirexpression seemed strange, like that of another being than himself; hismoustache and beard turned up toward the top of his face; his nose wasdiminished, and his mouth enlarged, immense, frightful. 

"Yes, " he resumed "she had grown stouter since ceasing to conceive, and her anxieties about her children began to disappear. Not evento disappear. One would have said that she was waking from a longintoxication, that on coming to herself she had perceived the entireuniverse with its joys, a whole world in which she had not learned tolive, and which she did not understand. 

"'If only this world shall not vanish! When time is past, when old agecomes, one cannot recover it. ' Thus, I believe, she thought, or ratherfelt. Moreover, she could neither think nor feel otherwise. She had beenbrought up in this idea that there is in the world but one thing worthyof attention, --love. In marrying, she had known something of this love, but very far from everything that she had understood as promised her, everything that she expected. How many disillusions! How much suffering!And an unexpected torture, --the children! This torture had told uponher, and then, thanks to the obliging doctor, she had learned that itis possible to avoid having children. That had made her glad. She hadtried, and she was now revived for the only thing that she knew, --forlove. But love with a husband polluted by jealousy and ill-nature was nolonger her ideal. She began to think of some other tenderness; at least, that is what I thought. She looked about her as if expecting some eventor some being. I noticed it, and I could not help being anxious. 

"Always, now, it happened that, in talking with me through a third party(that is, in talking with others, but with the intention that I shouldhear), she boldly expressed, --not thinking that an hour before she hadsaid the opposite, --half joking, half seriously, this idea that maternalanxieties are a delusion; that it is not worth while to sacrifice one'slife to children. When one is young, it is necessary to enjoy life. Soshe occupied herself less with the children, not with the same intensityas formerly, and paid more and more attention to herself, to herface, --although she concealed it, --to her pleasures, and even to herperfection from the worldly point of view. She began to devote herselfpassionately to the piano, which had formerly stood forgotten in thecorner. There, at the piano, began the adventure. 

"The MAN appeared. "

Posdnicheff seemed embarrassed, and twice again there escaped him thatnasal sound of which I spoke above. I thought that it gave him pain torefer to the MAN, and to remember him. He made an effort, as if tobreak down the obstacle that embarrassed him, and continued withdetermination. 

"He was a bad man in my eyes, and not because he has played such animportant role in my life, but because he was really such. For therest, from the fact that he was bad, we must conclude that he wasirresponsible. He was a musician, a violinist. Not a professionalmusician, but half man of the world, half artist. His father, a countryproprietor, was a neighbor of my father's. The father had become ruined, and the children, three boys, were all sent away. Our man, the youngest, was sent to his godmother at Paris. There they placed him in theConservatory, for he showed a taste for music. He came out a violinist, and played in concerts. "

On the point of speaking evil of the other, Posdnicheff checked himself, stopped, and said suddenly:

"In truth, I know not how he lived. I only know that that year he cameto Russia, and came to see me. Moist eyes of almond shape, smiling redlips, a little moustache well waxed, hair brushed in the latest fashion, a vulgarly pretty face, --what the women call 'not bad, '--feebly builtphysically, but with no deformity; with hips as broad as a woman's;correct, and insinuating himself into the familiarity of people as faras possible, but having that keen sense that quickly detects a falsestep and retires in reason, --a man, in short, observant of the externalrules of dignity, with that special Parisianism that is revealed inbuttoned boots, a gaudy cravat, and that something which foreigners pickup in Paris, and which, in its peculiarity and novelty, always hasan influence on our women. In his manners an external and artificialgayety, a way, you know, of referring to everything by hints, byunfinished fragments, as if everything that one says you knew already, recalled it, and could supply the omissions. Well, he, with his music, was the cause of all. 

"At the trial the affair was so represented that everything seemedattributable to jealousy. It is false, --that is, not quite false, butthere was something else. The verdict was rendered that I was a deceivedhusband, that I had killed in defence of my sullied honor (that is theway they put it in their language), and thus I was acquitted. I tried toexplain the affair from my own point of view, but they concluded that Isimply wanted to rehabilitate the memory of my wife. Her relations withthe musician, whatever they may have been, are now of no importanceto me or to her. The important part is what I have told you. The wholetragedy was due to the fact that this man came into our house at a timewhen an immense abyss had already been dug between us, that frightfultension of mutual hatred, in which the slightest motive sufficed toprecipitate the crisis. Our quarrels in the last days were somethingterrible, and the more astonishing because they were followed by abrutal passion extremely strained. If it had not been he, some otherwould have come. If the pretext had not been jealousy, I should havediscovered another. I insist upon this point, --that all husbandswho live the married life that I lived must either resort to outsidedebauchery, or separate from their wives, or kill themselves, or killtheir wives as I did. If there is any one in my case to whom this doesnot happen, he is a very rare exception, for, before ending as I ended, I was several times on the point of suicide, and my wife made severalattempts to poison herself. "

CHAPTER XX. 

"In order that you may understand me, I must tell you how this happened. We were living along, and all seemed well. Suddenly we began to talkof the children's education. I do not remember what words either of usuttered, but a discussion began, reproaches, leaps from one subject toanother. 'Yes, I know it. It has been so for a long time. ' . . . 'Yousaid that. ' . . . 'No, I did not say that. ' . . . 'Then I lie?' etc. 

"And I felt that the frightful crisis was approaching when I shoulddesire to kill her or else myself. I knew that it was approaching; Iwas afraid of it as of fire; I wanted to restrain myself. But ragetook possession of my whole being. My wife found herself in the samecondition, perhaps worse. She knew that she intentionally distorted eachof my words, and each of her words was saturated with venom. All thatwas dear to me she disparaged and profaned. The farther the quarrelwent, the more furious it became. I cried, 'Be silent, ' or somethinglike that. 

"She bounded out of the room and ran toward the children. I tried to holdher back to finish my insults. I grasped her by the arm, and hurt her. She cried: 'Children, your father is beating me. ' I cried: 'Don't lie. 'She continued to utter falsehoods for the simple purpose of irritatingme further. 'Ah, it is not the first time, ' or something of that sort. The children rushed toward her and tried to quiet her. I said: 'Don'tsham. ' She said: 'You look upon everything as a sham. You would kill aperson and say he was shamming. Now I understand you. That is what youwant to do. ' 'Oh, if you were only dead!' I cried. 

"I remember how that terrible phrase frightened me. Never had I thoughtthat I could utter words so brutal, so frightful, and I was stupefied atwhat had just escaped my lips. I fled into my private apartment. I satdown and began to smoke. I heard her go into the hall and prepare to goout. I asked her: 'Where are you going? She did not answer. 'Well, maythe devil take you!' said I to myself, going back into my private room, where I lay down again and began smoking afresh. Thousands of plans ofvengeance, of ways of getting rid of her, and how to arrange this, andact as if nothing had happened, --all this passed through my head. Ithought of these things, and I smoked, and smoked, and smoked. I thoughtof running away, of making my escape, of going to America. I went so faras to dream how beautiful it would be, after getting rid of her, to loveanother woman, entirely different from her. I should be rid of her ifshe should die or if I should get a divorce, and I tried to think howthat could be managed. I saw that I was getting confused, but, in ordernot to see that I was not thinking rightly, I kept on smoking. 

"And the life of the house went on as usual. The children's teacher cameand asked: 'Where is Madame? When will she return?'

"The servants asked if they should serve the tea. I entered thedining-room. The children, Lise, the eldest girl, looked at me withfright, as if to question me, and she did not come. The whole eveningpassed, and still she did not come. Two sentiments kept succeeding eachother in my soul, --hatred of her, since she tortured myself and thechildren by her absence, but would finally return just the same, andfear lest she might return and make some attempt upon herself. But whereshould I look for her? At her sister's? It seemed so stupid to go to askwhere one's wife is. Moreover, may God forbid, I hoped, that she shouldbe at her sister's! If she wishes to torment any one, let her tormentherself first. And suppose she were not at her sister's. 

"Suppose she were to do, or had already done, something. 

"Eleven o'clock, midnight, one o'clock. . . . I did not sleep. I did notgo to my chamber. It is stupid to lie stretched out all alone, and towait. But in my study I did not rest. I tried to busy myself, to writeletters, to read. Impossible! I was alone, tortured, wicked, andI listened. Toward daylight I went to sleep. I awoke. She had notreturned. Everything in the house went on as usual, and all looked atme in astonishment, questioningly. The children's eyes were full ofreproach for me. 

"And always the same feeling of anxiety about her, and of hatred becauseof this anxiety. 

"Toward eleven o'clock in the morning came her sister, her ambassadress. Then began the usual phrases: 'She is in a terrible state. What isthe matter?' 'Why, nothing has happened. ' I spoke of her asperity ofcharacter, and I added that I had done nothing, and that I would nottake the first step. If she wants a divorce, so much the better! Mysister-in-law would not listen to this idea, and went away withouthaving gained anything. I was obstinate, and I said boldly anddeterminedly, in talking to her, that I would not take the firststep. Immediately she had gone I went into the other room, and saw thechildren in a frightened and pitiful state, and there I found myselfalready inclined to take this first step. But I was bound by my word. Again I walked up and down, always smoking. At breakfast I drank brandyand wine, and I reached the point which I unconsciously desired, thepoint where I no longer saw the stupidity and baseness of my situation. 

"Toward three o'clock she came. I thought that she was appeased, oradmitted her defeat. I began to tell her that I was provoked by herreproaches. She answered me, with the same severe and terribly downcastface, that she had not come for explanations, but to take the children, that we could not live together. I answered that it was not my fault, that she had put me beside myself. She looked at me with a severe andsolemn air, and said: 'Say no more. You will repent it. ' I said that Icould not tolerate comedies. Then she cried out something that I did notunderstand, and rushed toward her room. The key turned in the lock, and she shut herself up. I pushed at the door. There was no response. Furious, I went away. 

"A half hour later Lise came running all in tears. 'What! Has anythinghappened? We cannot hear Mamma!' We went toward my wife's room. I pushedthe door with all my might. The bolt was scarcely drawn, and the dooropened. In a skirt, with high boots, my wife lay awkwardly on the bed. On the table an empty opium phial. We restored her to life. Tears andthen reconciliation! Not reconciliation; internally each kept the hatredfor the other, but it was absolutely necessary for the moment to endthe scene in some way, and life began again as before. These scenes, andeven worse, came now once a week, now every month, now every day. Andinvariably the same incidents. Once I was absolutely resolved to fly, but through some inconceivable weakness I remained. 

"Such were the circumstances in which we were living when the MAN came. The man was bad, it is true. But what! No worse than we were. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

"When we moved to Moscow, this gentleman--his name wasTroukhatchevsky--came to my house. It was in the morning. I receivedhim. In former times we had been very familiar. He tried, by variousadvances, to re-establish the familiarity, but I was determined to keephim at a distance, and soon he gave it up. He displeased me extremely. At the first glance I saw that he was a filthy debauche. I was jealousof him, even before he had seen my wife. But, strange thing! some occultfatal power kept me from repulsing him and sending him away, and, onthe contrary, induced me to suffer this approach. What could have beensimpler than to talk with him a few minutes, and then dismiss him coldlywithout introducing him to my wife? But no, as if on purpose, I turnedthe conversation upon his skill as a violinist, and he answered that, contrary to what I had heard, he now played the violin more thanformerly. He remembered that I used to play. I answered that I hadabandoned music, but that my wife played very well. 

"Singular thing! Why, in the important events of our life, in those inwhich a man's fate is decided, --as mine was decided in that moment, --whyin these events is there neither a past nor a future? My relations withTroukhatchevsky the first day, at the first hour, were such as theymight still have been after all that has happened. I was conscious thatsome frightful misfortune must result from the presence of thisman, and, in spite of that, I could not help being amiable to him. Iintroduced him to my wife. She was pleased with him. In the beginning, I suppose, because of the pleasure of the violin playing, which sheadored. She had even hired for that purpose a violinist from thetheatre. But when she cast a glance at me, she understood my feelings, and concealed her impression. Then began the mutual trickery and deceit. I smiled agreeably, pretending that all this pleased me extremely. He, looking at my wife, as all debauches look at beautiful women, with anair of being interested solely in the subject of conversation, --that is, in that which did not interest him at all. 

"She tried to seem indifferent. But my expression, my jealous orfalse smile, which she knew so well, and the voluptuous glances of themusician, evidently excited her. I saw that, after the first interview, her eyes were already glittering, glittering strangely, and that, thanksto my jealousy, between him and her had been immediately establishedthat sort of electric current which is provoked by an identity ofexpression in the smile and in the eyes. 

"We talked, at the first interview, of music, of Paris, and of all sortsof trivialities. He rose to go. Pressing his hat against his swayinghip, he stood erect, looking now at her and now at me, as if waiting tosee what she would do. I remember that minute, precisely because it wasin my power not to invite him. I need not have invited him, and thennothing would have happened. But I cast a glance first at him, then ather. 'Don't flatter yourself that I can be jealous of you, ' I thought, addressing myself to her mentally, and I invited the other to bring hisviolin that very evening, and to play with my wife. She raised her eyestoward me with astonishment, and her face turned purple, as if she wereseized with a sudden fear. She began to excuse herself, saying thatshe did not play well enough. This refusal only excited me the more. Iremember the strange feeling with which I looked at his neck, his whiteneck, in contrast with his black hair, separated by a parting, when, with his skipping gait, like that of a bird, he left my house. Icould not help confessing to myself that this man's presence caused mesuffering. 'It is in my power, ' thought I, 'to so arrange things that Ishall never see him again. But can it be that I, _I_, fear him? No, I donot fear him. It would be too humiliating!'

"And there in the hall, knowing that my wife heard me, I insisted thathe should come that very evening with his violin. He promised me, andwent away. In the evening he arrived with his violin, and they playedtogether. But for a long time things did not go well; we had not thenecessary music, and that which we had my wife could not play at sight. I amused myself with their difficulties. I aided them, I made proposals, and they finally executed a few pieces, --songs without words, and alittle sonata by Mozart. He played in a marvellous manner. He had whatis called the energetic and tender tone. As for difficulties, there werenone for him. Scarcely had he begun to play, when his face changed. Hebecame serious, and much more sympathetic. He was, it is needless tosay, much stronger than my wife. He helped her, he advised her simplyand naturally, and at the same time played his game with courtesy. My wife seemed interested only in the music. She was very simple andagreeable. Throughout the evening I feigned, not only for the others, but for myself, an interest solely in the music. Really, I wascontinually tortured by jealousy. From the first minute that themusician's eyes met those of my wife, I saw that he did not regard heras a disagreeable woman, with whom on occasion it would be unpleasant toenter into intimate relations. 

"If I had been pure, I should not have dreamed of what he might think ofher. But I looked at women, and that is why I understood him and was intorture. I was in torture, especially because I was sure that towardme she had no other feeling than of perpetual irritation, sometimesinterrupted by the customary sensuality, and that this man, --thanks tohis external elegance and his novelty, and, above all, thanks to hisunquestionably remarkable talent, thanks to the attraction exercisedunder the influence of music, thanks to the impression that musicproduces upon nervous natures, --this man would not only please, butwould inevitably, and without difficulty, subjugate and conquer her, anddo with her as he liked. 

"I could not help seeing this. I could not help suffering, or keep frombeing jealous. And I was jealous, and I suffered, and in spite of that, and perhaps even because of that, an unknown force, in spite of my will, impelled me to be not only polite, but more than polite, amiable. Icannot say whether I did it for my wife, or to show him that I did notfear HIM, or to deceive myself; but from my first relations with him Icould not be at my ease. I was obliged, that I might not give way to adesire to kill him immediately, to 'caress' him. I filled his glass atthe table, I grew enthusiastic over his playing, I talked to him withan extremely amiable smile, and I invited him to dinner the followingSunday, and to play again. I told him that I would invite some of myacquaintances, lovers of his art, to hear him. 

"Two or three days later I was entering my house, in conversation witha friend, when in the hall I suddenly felt something as heavy as a stoneweighing on my heart, and I could not account for it. And it was this, it was this: in passing through the hall, I had noticed something whichreminded me of HIM. Not until I reached my study did I realize what itwas, and I returned to the hall to verify my conjecture. Yes, I wasnot mistaken. It was his overcoat (everything that belonged to him, I, without realizing it, had observed with extraordinary attention). Iquestioned the servant. That was it. He had come. 

"I passed near the parlor, through my children's study-room. Lise, mydaughter, was sitting before a book, and the old nurse, with my youngestchild, was beside the table, turning the cover of something or other. In the parlor I heard a slow arpeggio, and his voice, deadened, and adenial from her. She said: 'No, no! There is something else!' And itseemed to me that some one was purposely deadening the words by the aidof the piano. 

"My God! How my heart leaped! What were my imaginations! When I rememberthe beast that lived in me at that moment, I am seized with fright. Myheart was first compressed, then stopped, and then began to beat likea hammer. The principal feeling, as in every bad feeling, was pity formyself. 'Before the children, before the old nurse, ' thought I, 'shedishonors me. I will go away. I can endure it no longer. God knows whatI should do if. . . . But I must go in. '

"The old nurse raised her eyes to mine, as if she understood, and advisedme to keep a sharp watch. 'I must go in, ' I said to myself, and, withoutknowing what I did, I opened the door. He was sitting at the piano andmaking arpeggios with his long, white, curved fingers. She was standingin the angle of the grand piano, before the open score. She saw orheard me first, and raised her eyes to mine. Was she stunned, was shepretending not to be frightened, or was she really not frightened atall? In any case, she did not tremble, she did not stir. She blushed, but only a little later. 

"'How glad I am that you have come! We have not decided what we willplay Sunday, ' said she, in a tone that she would not have had if she hadbeen alone with me. 

"This tone, and the way in which she said 'we' in speaking of herselfand of him, revolted me. I saluted him silently. He shook hands with medirectly, with a smile that seemed to me full of mockery. He explainedto me that he had brought some scores, in order to prepare for theSunday concert, and that they were not in accord as to the pieceto choose, --whether difficult, classic things, notably a sonata byBeethoven, or lighter pieces. 

"And as he spoke, he looked at me. It was all so natural, so simple, thatthere was absolutely nothing to be said against it. And at the same timeI saw, I was sure, that it was false, that they were in a conspiracy todeceive me. 

"One of the most torturing situations for the jealous (and in our sociallife everybody is jealous) are those social conditions which allowa very great and dangerous intimacy between a man and a woman undercertain pretexts. One must make himself the laughing stock of everybody, if he desires to prevent associations in the ball-room, the intimacyof doctors with their patients, the familiarity of art occupations, andespecially of music. In order that people may occupy themselves togetherwith the noblest art, music, a certain intimacy is necessary, in whichthere is nothing blameworthy. Only a jealous fool of a husband can haveanything to say against it. A husband should not have such thoughts, and especially should not thrust his nose into these affairs, or preventthem. And yet, everybody knows that precisely in these occupations, especially in music, many adulteries originate in our society. 

"I had evidently embarrassed them, because for some time I was unableto say anything. I was like a bottle suddenly turned upside down, fromwhich the water does not run because it is too full. I wanted to insultthe man, and to drive him away, but I could do nothing of the kind. On the contrary, I felt that I was disturbing them, and that it was myfault. I made a presence of approving everything, this time also, thanksto that strange feeling that forced me to treat him the more amiably inproportion as his presence was more painful to me. I said that I trustedto his taste, and I advised my wife to do the same. He remained just aslong as it was necessary in order to efface the unpleasant impression ofmy abrupt entrance with a frightened face. He went away with an air ofsatisfaction at the conclusions arrived at. As for me, I was perfectlysure that, in comparison with that which preoccupied them, the questionof music was indifferent to them. I accompanied him with especialcourtesy to the hall (how can one help accompanying a man who hascome to disturb your tranquillity and ruin the happiness of the entirefamily?), and I shook his white, soft hand with fervent amiability. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

"All that day I did not speak to my wife. I could not. Her proximityexcited such hatred that I feared myself. At the table she asked me, inpresence of the children, when I was to start upon a journey. I was togo the following week to an assembly of the Zemstvo, in a neighboringlocality. I named the date. She asked me if I would need anything forthe journey. I did not answer. I sat silent at the table, and silentlyI retired to my study. In those last days she never entered my study, especially at that hour. Suddenly I heard her steps, her walk, and thena terribly base idea entered my head that, like the wife of Uri, shewished to conceal a fault already committed, and that it was forthis reason that she came to see me at this unseasonable hour. 'Is itpossible, ' thought I, 'that she is coming to see me?' On hearing herstep as it approached: 'If it is to see me that she is coming, then I amright. '

"An inexpressible hatred invaded my soul. The steps drew nearer, andnearer, and nearer yet. Would she pass by and go on to the other room?No, the hinges creaked, and at the door her tall, graceful, languidfigure appeared. In her face, in her eyes, a timidity, an insinuatingexpression, which she tried to hide, but which I saw, and of which Iunderstood the meaning. I came near suffocating, such were my efforts tohold my breath, and, continuing to look at her, I took my cigarette, andlighted it. 

"'What does this mean? One comes to talk with you, and you go tosmoking. '

"And she sat down beside me on the sofa, resting against my shoulder. Irecoiled, that I might not touch her. 

"'I see that you are displeased with what I wish to play on Sunday, 'said she. 

"'I am not at all displeased, ' said I. 

"'Can I not see?'

"'Well, I congratulate you on your clairvoyance. Only to you everybaseness is agreeable, and I abhor it. '

"'If you are going to swear like a trooper, I am going away. '

"'Then go away. Only know that, if the honor of the family is nothing toyou, to me it is dear. As for you, the devil take you!'

"'What! What is the matter?'

"'Go away, in the name of God. '

"But she did not go away. Was she pretending not to understand, or didshe really not understand what I meant? But she was offended and becameangry. 

"'You have become absolutely impossible, ' she began, or some such phraseas that regarding my character, trying, as usual, to give me as muchpain as possible. 'After what you have done to my sister (she referredto an incident with her sister, in which, beside myself, I had utteredbrutalities; she knew that that tortured me, and tried to touch me inthat tender spot) nothing will astonish me. '

"'Yes, offended, humiliated, and dishonored, and after that to holdme still responsible, ' thought I, and suddenly a rage, such a hatredinvaded me as I do not remember to have ever felt before. For the firsttime I desired to express this hatred physically. I leaped upon her, butat the same moment I understood my condition, and I asked myself whetherit would be well for me to abandon myself to my fury. And I answeredmyself that it would be well, that it would frighten her, and, insteadof resisting, I lashed and spurred myself on, and was glad to feel myanger boiling more and more fiercely. 

"'Go away, or I will kill you!' I cried, purposely, with a frightfulvoice, and I grasped her by the arm. She did not go away. Then I twistedher arm, and pushed her away violently. 

"'What is the matter with you? Come to your senses!' she shrieked. 

"'Go away, ' roared I, louder than ever, rolling my eyes wildly. 'Ittakes you to put me in such a fury. I do not answer for myself! Goaway!'

"In abandoning myself to my anger, I became steeped in it, and I wantedto commit some violent act to show the force of my fury. I felt aterrible desire to beat her, to kill her, but I realized that that couldnot be, and I restrained myself. I drew back from her, rushed to thetable, grasped the paper-weight, and threw it on the floor by her side. I took care to aim a little to one side, and, before she disappeared (Idid it so that she could see it), I grasped a candlestick, which I alsohurled, and then took down the barometer, continuing to shout:

"'Go away! I do not answer for myself!'

"She disappeared, and I immediately ceased my demonstrations. An hourlater the old servant came to me and said that my wife was in a fitof hysterics. I went to see her. She sobbed and laughed, incapable ofexpressing anything, her whole body in a tremble. She was not shamming, she was really sick. We sent for the doctor, and all night long I caredfor her. Toward daylight she grew calmer, and we became reconciled underthe influence of that feeling which we called 'love. ' The next morning, when, after the reconciliation, I confessed to her that I was jealous ofTroukhatchevsky, she was not at all embarrassed, and began to laugh inthe most natural way, so strange did the possibility of being led astrayby such a man appear to her. 

"'With such a man can an honest woman entertain any feeling beyond thepleasure of enjoying music with him? But if you like, I am readyto never see him again, even on Sunday, although everybody has beeninvited. Write him that I am indisposed, and that will end thematter. Only one thing annoys me, --that any one could have thought himdangerous. I am too proud not to detest such thoughts. '

"And she did not lie. She believed what she said. She hoped by her wordsto provoke in herself a contempt for him, and thereby to defend herself. But she did not succeed. Everything was directed against her, especiallythat abominable music. So ended the quarrel, and on Sunday our guestscame, and Troukhatchevsky and my wife again played together. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

"I think that it is superfluous to say that I was very vain. If onehas no vanity in this life of ours, there is no sufficient reason forliving. So for that Sunday I had busied myself in tastefully arrangingthings for the dinner and the musical soiree. I had purchased myselfnumerous things for the dinner, and had chosen the guests. Toward sixo'clock they arrived, and after them Troukhatchevsky, in his dress-coat, with diamond shirt-studs, in bad taste. He bore himself with ease. Toall questions he responded promptly, with a smile of contentment andunderstanding, and that peculiar expression which was intended tomean: 'All that you may do and say will be exactly what I expected. 'Everything about him that was not correct I now noticed with especialpleasure, for it all tended to tranquillize me, and prove to me that tomy wife he stood in such a degree of inferiority that, as she hadtold me, she could not stoop to his level. Less because of my wife'sassurances than because of the atrocious sufferings which I felt injealousy, I no longer allowed myself to be jealous. 

"In spite of that, I was not at ease with the musician or with herduring dinner-time and the time that elapsed before the beginning of themusic. Involuntarily I followed each of their gestures and looks. The dinner, like all dinners, was tiresome and conventional. Not longafterward the music began. He went to get his violin; my wife advancedto the piano, and rummaged among the scores. Oh, how well I remember allthe details of that evening! I remember how he brought the violin, howhe opened the box, took off the serge embroidered by a lady's hand, andbegan to tune the instrument. I can still see my wife sit down, with afalse air of indifference, under which it was plain that she hid a greattimidity, a timidity that was especially due to her comparative lackof musical knowledge. She sat down with that false air in front of thepiano, and then began the usual preliminaries, --the pizzicati of theviolin and the arrangement of the scores. I remember then how theylooked at each other, and cast a glance at their auditors who weretaking their seats. They said a few words to each other, and the musicbegan. They played Beethoven's 'Kreutzer Sonata. ' Do you know the firstpresto? Do you know it? Ah!" . . . 

Posdnicheff heaved a sigh, and was silent for a long time. 

"A terrible thing is that sonata, especially the presto! And a terriblething is music in general. What is it? Why does it do what it does?They say that music stirs the soul. Stupidity! A lie! It acts, it actsfrightfully (I speak for myself), but not in an ennobling way. It actsneither in an ennobling nor a debasing way, but in an irritatingway. How shall I say it? Music makes me forget my real situation. Ittransports me into a state which is not my own. Under the influence ofmusic I really seem to feel what I do not feel, to understand what I donot understand, to have powers which I cannot have. Music seems to me toact like yawning or laughter; I have no desire to sleep, but I yawn whenI see others yawn; with no reason to laugh, I laugh when I hear otherslaugh. And music transports me immediately into the condition of soulin which he who wrote the music found himself at that time. I becomeconfounded with his soul, and with him I pass from one conditionto another. But why that? I know nothing about it? But he who wroteBeethoven's 'Kreutzer Sonata' knew well why he found himself in acertain condition. That condition led him to certain actions, and forthat reason to him had a meaning, but to me none, none whatever. Andthat is why music provokes an excitement which it does not bring to aconclusion. For instance, a military march is played; the soldierpasses to the sound of this march, and the music is finished. A danceis played; I have finished dancing, and the music is finished. A mass issung; I receive the sacrament, and again the music is finished. Butany other music provokes an excitement, and this excitement is notaccompanied by the thing that needs properly to be done, and that is whymusic is so dangerous, and sometimes acts so frightfully. 

"In China music is under the control of the State, and that is the wayit ought to be. Is it admissible that the first comer should hypnotizeone or more persons, and then do with them as he likes? And especiallythat the hypnotizer should be the first immoral individual who happensto come along? It is a frightful power in the hands of any one, nomatter whom. For instance, should they be allowed to play this 'KreutzerSonata, ' the first presto, --and there are many like it, --in parlors, among ladies wearing low necked dresses, or in concerts, then finish thepiece, receive the applause, and then begin another piece? These thingsshould be played under certain circumstances, only in cases where it isnecessary to incite certain actions corresponding to the music. But toincite an energy of feeling which corresponds to neither the time northe place, and is expended in nothing, cannot fail to act dangerously. On me in particular this piece acted in a frightful manner. One wouldhave said that new sentiments, new virtualities, of which I was formerlyignorant, had developed in me. 'Ah, yes, that's it! Not at all as Ilived and thought before! This is the right way to live!'

"Thus I spoke to my soul as I listened to that music. What was this newthing that I thus learned? That I did not realize, but the consciousnessof this indefinite state filled me with joy. In that state there was noroom for jealousy. The same faces, and among them HE and my wife, I sawin a different light. This music transported me into an unknown world, where there was no room for jealousy. Jealousy and the feelings thatprovoke it seemed to me trivialities, nor worth thinking of. 

"After the presto followed the andante, not very new, with commonplacevariations, and the feeble finale. Then they played more, at the requestof the guests, --first an elegy by Ernst, and then various other pieces. They were all very well, but did not produce upon me a tenth part of theimpression that the opening piece did. I felt light and gay throughoutthe evening. As for my wife, never had I seen her as she was that night. Those brilliant eyes, that severity and majestic expression while shewas playing, and then that utter languor, that weak, pitiable, and happysmile after she had finished, --I saw them all and attached no importanceto them, believing that she felt as I did, that to her, as to me, newsentiments had been revealed, as through a fog. During almost the wholeevening I was not jealous. 

"Two days later I was to start for the assembly of the Zemstvo, and forthat reason, on taking leave of me and carrying all his scores with him, Troukhatchevsky asked me when I should return. I inferred from that thathe believed it impossible to come to my house during my absence, andthat was agreeable to me. Now I was not to return before his departurefrom the city. So we bade each other a definite farewell. For thefirst time I shook his hand with pleasure, and thanked him for thesatisfaction that he had given me. He likewise took leave of my wife, and their parting seemed to me very natural and proper. All wentmarvellously. My wife and I retired, well satisfied with the evening. Wetalked of our impressions in a general way, and we were nearer togetherand more friendly than we had been for a long time. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

"Two days later I started for the assembly, having bid farewell to mywife in an excellent and tranquil state of mind. In the district therewas always much to be done. It was a world and a life apart. During twodays I spent ten hours at the sessions. The evening of the second day, on returning to my district lodgings, I found a letter from my wife, telling me of the children, of their uncle, of the servants, and, amongother things, as if it were perfectly natural, that Troukhatchevsky hadbeen at the house, and had brought her the promised scores. He had alsoproposed that they play again, but she had refused. 

"For my part, I did not remember at all that he had promised any score. It had seemed to me on Sunday evening that he took a definite leave, and for this reason the news gave me a disagreeable surprise. I read theletter again. There was something tender and timid about it. It producedan extremely painful impression upon me. My heart swelled, and the madbeast of jealousy began to roar in his lair, and seemed to want to leapupon his prey. But I was afraid of this beast, and I imposed silenceupon it. 

"What an abominable sentiment is jealousy! 'What could be more naturalthan what she has written?' said I to myself. I went to bed, thinkingmyself tranquil again. I thought of the business that remained to bedone, and I went to sleep without thinking of her. 

"During these assemblies of the Zemstvo I always slept badly in mystrange quarters. That night I went to sleep directly, but, as sometimeshappens, a sort of sudden shock awoke me. I thought immediately of her, of my physical love for her, of Troukhatchevsky, and that between themeverything had happened. And a feeling of rage compressed my heart, andI tried to quiet myself. 

"'How stupid!' said I to myself; 'there is no reason, none at all. Andwhy humiliate ourselves, herself and myself, and especially myself, by supposing such horrors? This mercenary violinist, known as a badman, --shall I think of him in connection with a respectable woman, themother of a family, MY wife? How silly!' But on the other hand, I saidto myself: 'Why should it not happen?'

"Why? Was it not the same simple and intelligible feeling in the nameof which I married, in the name of which I was living with her, the onlything I wanted of her, and that which, consequently, others desired, this musician among the rest? He was not married, was in good health(I remember how his teeth ground the gristle of the cutlets, and howeagerly he emptied the glass of wine with his red lips), was carefulof his person, well fed, and not only without principles, but evidentlywith the principle that one should take advantage of the pleasure thatoffers itself. There was a bond between them, music, --the most refinedform of sensual voluptuousness. What was there to restrain them?Nothing. Everything, on the contrary, attracted them. And she, she hadbeen and had remained a mystery. I did not know her. I knew her onlyas an animal, and an animal nothing can or should restrain. And nowI remember their faces on Sunday evening, when, after the 'KreutzerSonata, ' they played a passionate piece, written I know not by whom, buta piece passionate to the point of obscenity. 

"'How could I have gone away?' said I to myself, as I recalled theirfaces. 'Was it not clear that between them everything was done thatevening? Was it not clear that between them not only there were no moreobstacles, but that both--especially she--felt a certain shame afterwhat had happened at the piano? How weakly, pitiably, happily shesmiled, as she wiped the perspiration from her reddened face! Theyalready avoided each other's eyes, and only at the supper, when shepoured some water for him, did they look at each other and smileimperceptibly. '

"Now I remember with fright that look and that scarcely perceptiblesmile. 'Yes, everything has happened, ' a voice said to me, and directlyanother said the opposite. 'Are you mad? It is impossible!' said thesecond voice. 

"It was too painful to me to remain thus stretched in the darkness. I struck a match, and the little yellow-papered room frightened me. Ilighted a cigarette, and, as always happens, when one turns in a circleof inextricable contradiction, I began to smoke. I smoked cigaretteafter cigarette to dull my senses, that I might not see mycontradictions. All night I did not sleep, and at five o'clock, when itwas not yet light, I decided that I could stand this strain no longer, and that I would leave directly. There was a train at eight o'clock. Iawakened the keeper who was acting as my servant, and sent him to lookfor horses. To the assembly of Zemstvo I sent a message that I wascalled back to Moscow by pressing business, and that I begged them tosubstitute for me a member of the Committee. At eight o'clock I got intoa tarantass and started off. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

"I had to go twenty-five versts by carriage and eight hours by train. By carriage it was a very pleasant journey. The coolness of autumn wasaccompanied by a brilliant sun. You know the weather when the wheelsimprint themselves upon the dirty road. The road was level, and thelight strong, and the air strengthening. The tarantass was comfortable. As I looked at the horses, the fields, and the people whom we passed, I forgot where I was going. Sometimes it seemed to me that I wastravelling without an object, --simply promenading, --and that I shouldgo on thus to the end of the world. And I was happy when I so forgotmyself. But when I remembered where I was going, I said to myself: 'Ishall see later. Don't think about it. '

"When half way, an incident happened to distract me still further. Thetarantass, though new, broke down, and had to be repaired. The delays inlooking for a telegue, the repairs, the payment, the tea in the inn, theconversation with the dvornik, all served to amuse me. Toward nightfallall was ready, and I started off again. By night the journey was stillpleasanter than by day. The moon in its first quarter, a slight frost, the road still in good condition, the horses, the sprightly coachman, all served to put me in good spirits. I scarcely thought of what awaitedme, and was gay perhaps because of the very thing that awaited me, andbecause I was about to say farewell to the joys of life. 

"But this tranquil state, the power of conquering my preoccupation, allended with the carriage drive. Scarcely had I entered the cars, when theother thing began. Those eight hours on the rail were so terrible to methat I shall never forget them in my life. Was it because on enteringthe car I had a vivid imagination of having already arrived, or becausethe railway acts upon people in such an exciting fashion? At any rate, after boarding the train I could no longer control my imagination, whichincessantly, with extraordinary vivacity, drew pictures before my eyes, each more cynical than its predecessor, which kindled my jealousy. And always the same things about what was happening at home duringmy absence. I burned with indignation, with rage, and with a peculiarfeeling which steeped me in humiliation, as I contemplated thesepictures. And I could not tear myself out of this condition. I couldnot help looking at them, I could not efface them, I could not keep fromevoking them. 

"The more I looked at these imaginary pictures, the more I believedin their reality, forgetting that they had no serious foundation. Thevivacity of these images seemed to prove to me that my imaginationswere a reality. One would have said that a demon, against my will, was inventing and breathing into me the most terrible fictions. A conversation which dated a long time back, with the brother ofTroukhatchevsky, I remembered at that moment, in a sort of ecstasy, andit tore my heart as I connected it with the musician and my wife. Yes, it was very long ago. The brother of Troukhatchevsky, answering myquestions as to whether he frequented disreputable houses, said that arespectable man does not go where he may contract a disease, in a lowand unclean spot, when one can find an honest woman. And here he, hisbrother, the musician, had found the honest woman. 'It is true that sheis no longer in her early youth. She has lost a tooth on one side, andher face is slightly bloated, ' thought I for Troukhatchevsky. 'But whatis to be done? One must profit by what one has. '

"'Yes, he is bound to take her for his mistress, ' said I to myselfagain; 'and besides, she is not dangerous. '

"'No, it is not possible' I rejoined in fright. 'Nothing, nothing of thekind has happened, and there is no reason to suppose there has. Did shenot tell me that the very idea that I could be jealous of her because ofhim was humiliating to her?' 'Yes, but she lied, ' I cried, and all beganover again. 

"There were only two travellers in my compartment: an old woman with herhusband, neither of them very talkative; and even they got out at one ofthe stations, leaving me all alone. I was like a beast in a cage. Now Ijumped up and approached the window, now I began to walk back and forth, staggering as if I hoped to make the train go faster by my efforts, andthe car with its seats and its windows trembled continually, as oursdoes now. "

And Posdnicheff rose abruptly, took a few steps, and sat down again. 

"Oh, I am afraid, I am afraid of railway carriages. Fear seizes me. Isat down again, and I said to myself: 'I must think of something else. For instance, of the inn keeper at whose house I took tea. ' And then, inmy imagination arose the dvornik, with his long beard, and his grandson, a little fellow of the same age as my little Basile. My little Basile!My little Basile! He will see the musician kiss his mother! Whatthoughts will pass through his poor soul! But what does that matter toher! She loves. 

"And again it all began, the circle of the same thoughts. I sufferedso much that at last I did not know what to do with myself, and an ideapassed through my head that pleased me much, --to get out upon the rails, throw myself under the cars, and thus finish everything. One thingprevented me from doing so. It was pity! It was pity for myself, evokingat the same time a hatred for her, for him, but not so much for him. Toward him I felt a strange sentiment of my humiliation and his victory, but toward her a terrible hatred. 

"'But I cannot kill myself and leave her free. She must suffer, she mustunderstand at least that I have suffered, ' said I to myself. 

"At a station I saw people drinking at the lunch counter, and directly Iwent to swallow a glass of vodki. Beside me stood a Jew, drinking also. He began to talk to me, and I, in order not to be left alone in mycompartment, went with him into his third-class, dirty, full of smoke, and covered with peelings and sunflower seeds. There I sat down besidethe Jew, and, as it seemed, he told many anecdotes. 

"First I listened to him, but I did not understand what he said. Henoticed it, and exacted my attention to his person. Then I rose andentered my own compartment. 

"'I must consider, ' said I to myself, 'whether what I think is true, whether there is any reason to torment myself. ' I sat down, wishing toreflect quietly; but directly, instead of the peaceful reflections, thesame thing began again. Instead of the reasoning, the pictures. 

"'How many times have I tormented myself in this way, ' I thought (Irecalled previous and similar fits of jealousy), 'and then seen it endin nothing at all? It is the same now. Perhaps, yes, surely, I shallfind her quietly sleeping. She will awaken, she will be glad, and in herwords and looks I shall see that nothing has happened, that all this isvain. Ah, if it would only so turn out!' 'But no, that has happened toooften! Now the end has come, ' a voice said to me. 

"And again it all began. Ah, what torture! It is not to a hospitalfilled with syphilitic patients that I would take a young man to deprivehim of the desire for women, but into my soul, to show him the demonwhich tore it. The frightful part was that I recognized in myself anindisputable right to the body of my wife, as if her body were entirelymine. And at the same time I felt that I could not possess this body, that it was not mine, that she could do with it as she liked, and thatshe liked to do with it as I did not like. And I was powerless againsthim and against her. He, like the Vanka of the song, would sing, beforemounting the gallows, how he would kiss her sweet lips, etc. , and hewould even have the best of it before death. With her it was stillworse. If she HAD NOT DONE IT, she had the desire, she wished to do it, and I knew that she did. That was worse yet. It would be better if shehad already done it, to relieve me of my uncertainty. 

"In short, I could not say what I desired. I desired that she might notwant what she MUST want. It was complete madness. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

"At the station before the last, when the conductor came to take thetickets, I took my baggage and went out on the car platform, andthe consciousness that the climax was near at hand only added to myagitation. I was cold, my jaw trembled so that my teeth chattered. Mechanically I left the station with the crowd, I took a tchik, and Istarted. I looked at the few people passing in the streets and at thedvorniks. I read the signs, without thinking of anything. After goinghalf a verst my feet began to feel cold, and I remembered that in thecar I had taken off my woollen socks, and had put them in my travellingbag. Where had I put the bag? Was it with me? Yes, and the basket?

"I bethought myself that I had totally forgotten my baggage. I took outmy check, and then decided it was not worth while to return. I continuedon my way. In spite of all my efforts to remember, I cannot at thismoment make out why I was in such a hurry. I know only that I wasconscious that a serious and menacing event was approaching in my life. It was a case of real auto-suggestion. Was it so serious because Ithought it so? Or had I a presentiment? I do not know. Perhaps, too, after what has happened, all previous events have taken on a lugubrioustint in my memory. 

"I arrived at the steps. It was an hour past midnight. A few isvotchikswere before the door, awaiting customers, attracted by the lightedwindows (the lighted windows were those of our parlor and receptionroom). Without trying to account for this late illumination, I went upthe steps, always with the same expectation of something terrible, andI rang. The servant, a good, industrious, and very stupid being, namedGregor, opened the door. The first thing that leaped to my eyes in thehall, on the hat-stand, among other garments, was an overcoat. I oughtto have been astonished, but I was not astonished. I expected it. 'That's it!' I said to myself. 

"When I had asked Gregor who was there, and he had namedTroukhatchevsky, I inquired whether there were other visitors. Heanswered: 'Nobody. ' I remember the air with which he said that, witha tone that was intended to give me pleasure, and dissipate my doubts. 'That's it! that's it!' I had the air of saying to myself. 'And thechildren?'

"'Thank God, they are very well. They went to sleep long ago. '

"I scarcely breathed, and I could not keep my jaw from trembling. 

"Then it was not as I thought. I had often before returned home with thethought that a misfortune had awaited me, but had been mistaken, andeverything was going on as usual. But now things were not going on asusual. All that I had imagined, all that I believed to be chimeras, allreally existed. Here was the truth. 

"I was on the point of sobbing, but straightway the demon whispered inmy ear: 'Weep and be sentimental, and they will separate quietly, andthere will be no proofs, and all your life you will doubt and suffer. 'And pity for myself vanished, and there remained only the bestial needof some adroit, cunning, and energetic action. I became a beast, anintelligent beast. 

"'No, no, ' said I to Gregor, who was about to announce my arrival. 'Dothis, take a carriage, and go at once for my baggage. Here is the check. Start. '

"He went along the hall to get his overcoat. Fearing lest he mightfrighten them, I accompanied him to his little room, and waited for himto put on his things. In the dining-room could be heard the sound ofconversation and the rattling of knives and plates. They were eating. They had not heard the ring. 'Now if they only do not go out, ' Ithought. 

"Gregor put on his fur-collared coat and went out. I closed the doorafter him. I felt anxious when I was alone, thinking that directly Ishould have to act. How? I did not yet know. I knew only that all wasended, that there could be no doubt of his innocence, and that in aninstant my relations with her were going to be terminated. Before, I hadstill doubts. I said to myself: 'Perhaps this is not true. Perhaps I ammistaken. ' Now all doubt had disappeared. All was decided irrevocably. Secretly, all alone with him, at night! It is a violation of all duties!Or, worse yet, she may make a show of that audacity, of that insolencein crime, which, by its excess, tends to prove innocence. All is clear. No doubt. I feared but one thing, --that they might run in differentdirections, that they might invent some new lie, and thus deprive me ofmaterial proof, and of the sorrowful joy of punishing, yes, of executingthem. 

"And to surprise them more quickly, I started on tiptoe for thedining-room, not through the parlor, but through the hall and thechildren's rooms. In the first room slept the little boy. In the second, the old nurse moved in her bed, and seemed on the point of waking, andI wondered what she would think when she knew all. And pity for myselfgave me such a pang that I could not keep the tears back. Not to wakethe children, I ran lightly through the hall into my study. I droppedupon the sofa, and sobbed. 'I, an honest man, I, the son of my parents, who all my life long have dreamed of family happiness, I who have neverbetrayed! . . . And here my five children, and she embracing a musicianbecause he has red lips! No, she is not a woman! She is a bitch, a dirtybitch! Beside the chamber of the children, whom she had pretended tolove all her life! And then to think of what she wrote me! And how doI know? Perhaps it has always been thus. Perhaps all these children, supposed to be mine, are the children of my servants. And if I hadarrived to-morrow, she would have come to meet me with her coiffure, with her corsage, her indolent and graceful movements (and I see herattractive and ignoble features), and this jealous animal would haveremained forever in my heart, tearing it. What will the old nurse say?And Gregor? And the poor little Lise? She already understands things. And this impudence, this falsehood, this bestial sensuality, that I knowso well, ' I said to myself. 

"I tried to rise. I could not. My heart was beating so violently thatI could not hold myself upon my legs. 'Yes, I shall die of a rush ofblood. She will kill me. That is what she wants. What is it to her tokill? But that would be too agreeable to him, and I will not allow himto have this pleasure. 

"Yes, here I am, and there they are. They are laughing, they. . . . Yes, in spite of the fact that she is no longer in her early youth, he hasnot disdained her. At any rate, she is by no means ugly, and aboveall, not dangerous to his dear health, to him. Why did I not stifleher then?' said I to myself, as I remembered that other scene of theprevious week, when I drove her from my study, and broke the furniture. 

"And I recalled the state in which I was then. Not only did I recall it, but I again entered into the same bestial state. And suddenly there cameto me a desire to act, and all reasoning, except such as was necessaryto action, vanished from my brain, and I was in the condition of abeast, and of a man under the influence of physical excitement pending adanger, who acts imperturbably, without haste, and yet without losing aminute, pursuing a definite object. 

"The first thing that I did was to take off my boots, and now, havingonly stockings on, I advanced toward the wall, over the sofa, wherefirearms and daggers were hanging, and I took down a curved Damascusblade, which I had never used, and which was very sharp. I took it fromits sheath. I remember that the sheath fell upon the sofa, and that Isaid to myself: 'I must look for it later; it must not be lost. '

"Then I took off my overcoat, which I had kept on all the time, and withwolf-like tread started for THE ROOM. I do not remember how I proceeded, whether I ran or went slowly, through what chambers I passed, how Iapproached the dining-room, how I opened the door, how I entered. Iremember nothing about it. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

"I Remember only the expression of their faces when I opened the door. Iremember that, because it awakened in me a feeling of sorrowful joy. It was an expression of terror, such as I desired. Never shall I forgetthat desperate and sudden fright that appeared on their faces when theysaw me. He, I believe, was at the table, and, when he saw or heard me, he started, jumped to his feet, and retreated to the sideboard. Fearwas the only sentiment that could be read with certainty in his face. In hers, too, fear was to be read, but accompanied by other impressions. And yet, if her face had expressed only fear, perhaps that whichhappened would not have happened. But in the expression of her facethere was at the first moment--at least, I thought I saw it--a feelingof ennui, of discontent, at this disturbance of her love and happiness. One would have said that her sole desire was not to be disturbed IN THEMOMENT OF HER HAPPINESS. But these expressions appeared upon theirfaces only for a moment. Terror almost immediately gave place tointerrogation. Would they lie or not? If yes, they must begin. If not, something else was going to happen. But what?

"He gave her a questioning glance. On her face the expression of anguishand ennui changed, it seemed to me, when she looked at him, into anexpression of anxiety for HIM. For a moment I stood in the doorway, holding the dagger hidden behind my back. Suddenly he smiled, and in avoice that was indifferent almost to the point of ridicule, he said:

"'We were having some music. '

"'I did not expect--, ' she began at the same time, chiming in with thetone of the other. 

"But neither he nor she finished their remarks. The same rage that I hadfelt the previous week took possession of me. I felt the need of givingfree course to my violence and 'the joy of wrath. '

"No, they did not finish. That other thing was going to begin, of whichhe was afraid, and was going to annihilate what they wanted to say. I threw myself upon her, still hiding the dagger, that he might notprevent me from striking where I desired, in her bosom, under thebreast. At that moment he saw . . . And, what I did not expect on hispart, he quickly seized my hand, and cried:

"'Come to your senses! What are you doing? Help! Help!'

"I tore my hands from his grasp, and leaped upon him. I must have beenvery terrible, for he turned as white as a sheet, to his lips. His eyesscintillated singularly, and--again what I did not expect of him--hescrambled under the piano, toward the other room. I tried to follow him, but a very heavy weight fell upon my left arm. It was she. 

"I made an effort to clear myself. She clung more heavily than ever, refusing to let go. This unexpected obstacle, this burden, and thisrepugnant touch only irritated me the more. I perceived that I wascompletely mad, that I must be frightful, and I was glad of it. Witha sudden impulse, and with all my strength, I dealt her, with my leftelbow, a blow squarely in the face. 

"She uttered a cry and let go my arm. I wanted to follow the other, butI felt that it would be ridiculous to pursue in my stockings the loverof my wife, and I did not wish to be grotesque, I wished to be terrible. In spite of my extreme rage, I was all the time conscious of theimpression that I was making upon others, and even this impressionpartially guided me. 

"I turned toward her. She had fallen on the long easy chair, and, covering her face at the spot where I had struck her, she looked at me. Her features exhibited fear and hatred toward me, her enemy, such as therat exhibits when one lifts the rat-trap. At least, I saw nothing in herbut that fear and hatred, the fear and hatred which love for another hadprovoked. Perhaps I still should have restrained myself, and shouldnot have gone to the last extremity, if she had maintained silence. Butsuddenly she began to speak; she grasped my hand that held the dagger. 

"'Come to your senses! What are you doing? What is the matter with you?Nothing has happened, nothing, nothing! I swear it to you!'

"I might have delayed longer, but these last words, from which Iinferred the contrary of what they affirmed, --that is, that EVERYTHINGhad happened, --these words called for a reply. And the reply mustcorrespond to the condition into which I had lashed myself, and whichwas increasing and must continue to increase. Rage has its laws. 

"'Do not lie, wretch. Do not lie!' I roared. 

"With my left hand I seized her hands. She disengaged herself. Then, without dropping my dagger, I seized her by the throat, forced her tothe floor, and began to strangle her. With her two hands she clutchedmine, tearing them from her throat, stifling. Then I struck her a blowwith the dagger, in the left side, between the lower ribs. 

"When people say that they do not remember what they do in a fit offury, they talk nonsense. It is false. I remember everything. 

"I did not lose my consciousness for a single moment. The more I lashedmyself to fury, the clearer my mind became, and I could not help seeingwhat I did. I cannot say that I knew in advance what I would do, but atthe moment when I acted, and it seems to me even a little before, I knewwhat I was doing, as if to make it possible to repent, and to be able tosay later that I could have stopped. 

"I knew that I struck the blow between the ribs, and that the daggerentered. 

"At the second when I did it, I knew that I was performing a horribleact, such as I had never performed, --an act that would have frightfulconsequences. My thought was as quick as lightning, and the deedfollowed immediately. The act, to my inner sense, had an extraordinaryclearness. I perceived the resistance of the corset and then somethingelse, and then the sinking of the knife into a soft substance. Sheclutched at the dagger with her hands, and cut herself with it, butcould not restrain the blow. 

"Long afterward, in prison when the moral revolution had been effectedwithin me, I thought of that minute, I remembered it as far as I could, and I co-ordinated all the sudden changes. I remembered the terribleconsciousness which I felt, --that I was killing a wife, MY wife. 

"I well remember the horror of that consciousness and I know vaguelythat, having plunged in the dagger, I drew it out again immediately, wishing to repair and arrest my action. She straightened up and cried:

"'Nurse, he has killed me!'

"The old nurse, who had heard the noise, was standing in the doorway. Iwas still erect, waiting, and not believing myself in what had happened. But at that moment, from under her corset, the blood gushed forth. Thenonly did I understand that all reparation was impossible, and promptlyI decided that it was not even necessary, that all had happened inaccordance with my wish, and that I had fulfilled my desire. I waiteduntil she fell, and until the nurse, exclaiming, 'Oh, my God!' ran toher; then only I threw away the dagger and went out of the room. 

"'I must not be agitated. I must be conscious of what I am doing, ' Isaid to myself, looking neither at her nor at the old nurse. The lattercried and called the maid. I passed through the hall, and, after havingsent the maid, started for my study. 

"'What shall I do now?' I asked myself. 

"And immediately I understood what I should do. Directly after enteringthe study, I went straight to the wall, took down the revolver, andexamined it attentively. It was loaded. Then I placed it on the table. Next I picked up the sheath of the dagger, which had dropped downbehind the sofa, and then I sat down. I remained thus for a long time. I thought of nothing, I did not try to remember anything. I heard astifled noise of steps, a movement of objects and of tapestries, thenthe arrival of a person, and then the arrival of another person. ThenI saw Gregor bring into my room the baggage from the railway; as if anyone needed it!

"'Have you heard what has happened?' I asked him. 'Have you told thedvornik to inform the police?'

"He made no answer, and went out. I rose, closed the door, took thecigarettes and the matches, and began to smoke. I had not finished onecigarette, when a drowsy feeling came over me and sent me into a deepsleep. I surely slept two hours. I remember having dreamed that I was ongood terms with her, that after a quarrel we were in the act of makingup, that something prevented us, but that we were friends all the same. 

"A knock at the door awoke me. 

"'It is the police, ' thought I, as I opened my eyes. 'I have killed, Ibelieve. But perhaps it is SHE; perhaps nothing has happened. '

"Another knock. I did not answer. I was solving the question: 'Has ithappened or not? Yes, it has happened. '

"I remembered the resistance of the corset, and then. . . . 'Yes, it hashappened. Yes, it has happened. Yes, now I must execute myself, ' said Ito myself. 

"I said it, but I knew well that I should not kill myself. Nevertheless, I rose and took the revolver, but, strange thing, I remembered thatformerly I had very often had suicidal ideas, that that very night, onthe cars, it had seemed to me easy, especially easy because I thoughthow it would stupefy her. Now I not only could not kill myself, but Icould not even think of it. 

"'Why do it?' I asked myself, without answering. 

"Another knock at the door. 

"'Yes, but I must first know who is knocking. I have time enough. '

"I put the revolver back on the table, and hid it under my newspaper. Iwent to the door and drew back the bolt. 

"It was my wife's sister, --a good and stupid widow. 

"'Basile, what does this mean?' said she, and her tears, always ready, began to flow. 

"'What do you want?' I asked roughly. 

"I saw clearly that there was no necessity of being rough with her, butI could not speak in any other tone. 

"'Basile, she is dying. Ivan Fedorowitch says so. '

"Ivan Fedorowitch was the doctor, HER doctor, her counsellor. 

"'Is he here?' I inquired. 

"And all my hatred of her arose anew. 

"Well, what?

"'Basile, go to her! Ah! how terrible it is!' said she. 

"'Go to her?' I asked myself; and immediately I made answer to myselfthat I ought to go, that probably that was the thing that is usuallydone when a husband like myself kills his wife, that it was absolutelynecessary that I should go and see her. 

"'If that is the proper thing, I must go, ' I repeated to myself. 'Yes, if it is necessary, I shall still have time, ' said I to myself, thinkingof my intention of blowing my brains out. 

"And I followed my sister-in-law. 'Now there are going to be phrases andgrimaces, but I will not yield, ' I declared to myself. 

"'Wait, ' said I to my sister-in-law, 'it is stupid to be without boots. Let me at least put on my slippers. '"

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

"Strange thing! Again, when I had left my study, and was passing throughthe familiar rooms, again the hope came to me that nothing had happened. But the odor of the drugs, iodoform and phenic acid, brought me back toa sense of reality. 

"'No, everything has happened. '

"In passing through the hall, beside the children's chamber, I sawlittle Lise. She was looking at me, with eyes that were full of fear. Ieven thought that all the children were looking at me. As I approachedthe door of our sleeping-room, a servant opened it from within, andcame out. The first thing that I noticed was HER light gray dress upona chair, all dark with blood. On our common bed she was stretched, withknees drawn up. 

"She lay very high, upon pillows, with her chemise half open. Linen hadbeen placed upon the wound. A heavy smell of iodoform filled the room. Before, and more than anything else, I was astonished at her face, whichwas swollen and bruised under the eyes and over a part of the nose. Thiswas the result of the blow that I had struck her with my elbow, whenshe had tried to hold me back. Of beauty there was no trace left. I sawsomething hideous in her. I stopped upon the threshold. 

"'Approach, approach her, ' said her sister. 

"'Yes, probably she repents, ' thought I; 'shall I forgive her? Yes, sheis dying, I must forgive her, ' I added, trying to be generous. 

"I approached the bedside. With difficulty she raised her eyes, one ofwhich was swollen, and uttered these words haltingly:

"'You have accomplished what you desired. You have killed me. '

"And in her face, through the physical sufferings, in spite of theapproach of death, was expressed the same old hatred, so familiar to me. 

"'The children . . . I will not give them to you . . . All thesame. . . . She (her sister) shall take them. ' . . . 

"But of that which I considered essential, of her fault, of her treason, one would have said that she did not think it necessary to say even aword. 

"'Yes, revel in what you have done. '

"And she sobbed. 

"At the door stood her sister with the children. 

"'Yes, see what you have done!'

"I cast a glance at the children, and then at her bruised and swollenface, and for the first time I forgot myself (my rights, my pride), andfor the first time I saw in her a human being, a sister. 

"And all that which a moment before had been so offensive to me nowseemed to me so petty, --all this jealousy, --and, on the contrary, whatI had done seemed to me so important that I felt like bending over, approaching my face to her hand, and saying:

"'Forgive me!'

"But I did not dare. She was silent, with eyelids lowered, evidentlyhaving no strength to speak further. Then her deformed face began totremble and shrivel, and she feebly pushed me back. 

"'Why has all this happened? Why?'

"'Forgive me, ' said I. 

"'Yes, if you had not killed me, ' she cried suddenly, and her eyes shonefeverishly. 'Forgiveness--that is nothing. . . . If I only do not die!Ah, you have accomplished what you desired! I hate you!'

"Then she grew delirious. She was frightened, and cried:

"'Fire, I do not fear . . . But strike them all . . . He has gone. . . . He has gone. ' . . . 

"The delirium continued. She no longer recognized the children, not evenlittle Lise, who had approached. Toward noon she died. As for me, I wasarrested before her death, at eight o'clock in the morning. They tookme to the police station, and then to prison, and there, during elevenmonths, awaiting the verdict, I reflected upon myself, and upon my past, and I understood it. Yes, I began to understand from the third day. Thethird day they took me to the house. " . . . 

Posdnicheff seemed to wish to add something, but, no longer having thestrength to repress his sobs, he stopped. After a few minutes, havingrecovered his calmness, he resumed:

"I began to understand only when I saw her in the coffin. " . . . 

He uttered a sob, and then immediately continued, with haste:

"Then only, when I saw her dead face, did I understand all that I haddone. I understood that it was I, I, who had killed her. I understoodthat I was the cause of the fact that she, who had been a moving, living, palpitating being, had now become motionless and cold, and thatthere was no way of repairing this thing. He who has not lived throughthat cannot understand it. "

*****

We remained silent a long time. Posdnicheff sobbed and trembled beforeme. His face had become delicate and long, and his mouth had grownlarger. 

"Yes, " said he suddenly, "if I had known what I now know, I should neverhave married her, never, not for anything. "

Again we remained silent for a long time. 

"Yes, that is what I have done, that is my experience, We mustunderstand the real meaning of the words of the Gospel, --Matthew, V. 28, --'that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committedadultery'; and these words relate to the wife, to the sister, and notonly to the wife of another, but especially to one's own wife. "

THE END. 

If the reading of this book has interested you, do not fail to get itssequel, entitled "KREUTZER SONATA BEARING FRUIT, " by Pauline Grayson, which is an exceedingly interesting narrative showing one of the resultsof the ideas set forth in "Kreutzer Sonata. " It is bound in papercovers and will be sent by mail, postage paid, upon receipt of 25 cents. Address all orders to J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 57 Rose Street, New York. 

LESSON OF "THE KREUTZER SONATA. "

I have received, and still continue to receive, numbers of letters frompersons who are perfect strangers to me, asking me to state in plainand simple language my own views on the subject handled in the storyentitled "The Kreutzer Sonata. " With this request I shall now endeavorto comply. 

My views on the question may be succinctly stated as follows: Withoutentering into details, it will be generally admitted that I am accuratein saying that many people condone in young men a course of conduct withregard to the other sex which is incompatible with strict morality, and that this dissoluteness is pardoned generally. Both parents andthe government, in consequence of this view, may be said to wink atprofligacy, and even in the last resource to encourage its practice. Iam of opinion that this is not right. 

It is not possible that the health of one class should necessitate theruin of another, and, in consequence, it is our first duty to turn adeaf ear to such an essential immoral doctrine, no matter how stronglysociety may have established or law protected it. Moreover, it needs tobe fully recognized that men are rightly to be held responsible forthe consequences of their own acts, and that these are no longer to bevisited on the woman alone. It follows from this that it is the duty ofmen who do not wish to lead a life of infamy to practice such continencein respect to all woman as they would were the female society in whichthey move made up exclusively of their own mothers and sisters. 

A more rational mode of life should be adopted which would includeabstinence from all alcoholic drinks, from excess in eating and fromflesh meat, on the one hand, and recourse to physical labor on theother. I am not speaking of gymnastics, or of any of those occupationswhich may be fitly described as playing at work; I mean the genuine toilthat fatigues. No one need go far in search of proofs that this kind ofabstemious living is not merely possible, but far less hurtful to healththan excess. Hundreds of instances are known to every one. This is myfirst contention. 

In the second place, I think that of late years, through various reasonswhich I need not enter, but among which the above-mentioned laxityof opinion in society and the frequent idealization of the subject incurrent literature and painting may be mentioned, conjugal infidelityhas become more common and is considered less reprehensible. I am ofopinion that this is not right. The origin of the evil is twofold. It isdue, in the first place, to a natural instinct, and, in the second, tothe elevation of this instinct to a place to which it does not rightlybelong. This being so, the evil can only be remedied by effecting achange in the views now in vogue about "falling in love" and all thatthis term implies, by educating men and women at home through familyinfluence and example, and abroad by means of healthy public opinion, topractice that abstinence which morality and Christianity alike enjoin. This is my second contention. 

In the third place I am of opinion that another consequence of the falselight in which "falling in love, " and what it leads to, are viewedin our society, is that the birth of children has lost its pristinesignificance, and that modern marriages are conceived less and less fromthe point of view of the family. I am of opinion that this is not right. This is my third contention. 

In the fourth place, I am of opinion that the children (who in oursociety are considered an obstacle to enjoyment--an unlucky accident, asit were) are educated not with a view to the problem which they will beone day called on to face and to solve, but solely with an eye tothe pleasure which they may be made to yield to their parents. Theconsequence is, that the children of human beings are brought up forall the world like the young of animals, the chief care of their parentsbeing not to train them to such work as is worthy of men and women, butto increase their weight, or add a cubit to their stature, to make themspruce, sleek, well-fed, and comely. They rig them out in all manner offantastic costumes, wash them, over-feed them, and refuse to make themwork. If the children of the lower orders differ in this last respectfrom those of the well-to-do classes, the difference is merely formal;they work from sheer necessity, and not because their parents recognizework as a duty. And in over-fed children, as in over-fed animals, sensuality is engendered unnaturally early. 

Fashionable dress to-day, the course of reading, plays, music, dances, luscious food, all the elements of our modern life, in a word, from thepictures on the little boxes of sweetmeats up to the novel, the tale, and the poem, contribute to fan this sensuality into a strong, consumingflame, with the result that sexual vices and diseases have come to bethe normal conditions of the period of tender youth, and often continueinto the riper age of full-blown manhood. And I am of opinion that thisis not right. 

It is high time it ceased. The children of human beings should not bebrought up as if they were animals; and we should set up as the objectand strive to maintain as the result of our labors something better andnobler than a well-dressed body. This is my fourth contention. 

In the fifth place, I am of opinion that, owing to the exaggerated anderroneous significance attributed by our society to love and to theidealized states that accompany and succeed it, the best energies of ourmen and women are drawn forth and exhausted during the most promisingperiod of life; those of the men in the work of looking for, choosing, and winning the most desirable objects of love, for which purpose lyingand fraud are held to be quite excusable; those of the women and girlsin alluring men and decoying them into liaisons or marriage by the mostquestionable means conceivable, as an instance of which the presentfashions in evening dress may be cited. I am of opinion that this is notright. 

The truth is, that the whole affair has been exalted by poets andromancers to an undue importance, and that love in its variousdevelopments is not a fitting object to consume the best energies ofmen. People set it before them and strive after it, because their viewof life is as vulgar and brutish as is that other conception frequentlymet with in the lower stages of development, which sees in lusciousand abundant food an end worthy of man's best efforts. Now, this is notright and should not be done. And, in order to avoid doing it, it isonly needful to realize the fact that whatever truly deserves to be heldup as a worthy object of man's striving and working, whether it be theservice of humanity, of one's country, of science, of art, not to speakof the service of God, is far above and beyond the sphere of personalenjoyment. Hence, it follows that not only to form a liaison, buteven to contract marriage, is, from a Christian point of view, not aprogress, but a fall. Love, and all the states that accompany and followit, however we may try in prose and verse to prove the contrary, neverdo and never can facilitate the attainment of an aim worthy of men, butalways make it more difficult. This is my fifth contention. 

How about the human race? If we admit that celibacy is better and noblerthan marriage, evidently the human race will come to an end. But, if thelogical conclusion of the argument is that the human race will becomeextinct, the whole reasoning is wrong. 

To that I reply that the argument is not mine; I did not invent it. Thatit is incumbent on mankind so to strive, and that celibacy is preferableto marriage, are truths revealed by Christ 1, 900 years ago, set forth inour catechisms, and professed by us as followers of Christ. 

Chastity and celibacy, it is urged, cannot constitute the ideal ofhumanity, because chastity would annihilate the race which stroveto realize it, and humanity cannot set up as its ideal its ownannihilation. It may be pointed out in reply that only that is a trueideal, which, being unattainable, admits of infinite gradation indegrees of proximity. Such is the Christian ideal of the founding ofGod's kingdom, the union of all living creatures by the bonds of love. The conception of its attainment is incompatible with the conceptionof the movement of life. What kind of life could subsist if allliving creatures were joined together by the bonds of love? None. Ourconception of life is inseparably bound up with the conception of acontinual striving after an unattainable ideal. 

But even if we suppose the Christian ideal of perfect chastity realized, what then? We should merely find ourselves face to face on the one handwith the familiar teaching of religion, one of whose dogmas is that theworld will have an end; and on the other of so-called science, whichinforms us that the sun is gradually losing its heat, the result ofwhich will in time be the extinction of the human race. 

Now there is not and cannot be such an institution as Christianmarriage, just as there cannot be such a thing as a Christian liturgy(Matt. Vi. 5-12; John iv. 21), nor Christian teachers, nor churchfathers (Matt. Xxiii. 8-10), nor Christian armies, Christian law courts, nor Christian States. This is what was always taught and believed bytrue Christians of the first and following centuries. A Christian'sideal is not marriage, but love for God and for his neighbor. Consequently in the eyes of a Christian relations in marriage not onlydo not constitute a lawful, right, and happy state, as our society andour churches maintain, but, on the contrary, are always a fall. 

Such a thing as Christian marriage never was and never could be. Christdid not marry, nor did he establish marriage; neither did his disciplesmarry. But if Christian marriage cannot exist, there is such a thing asa Christian view of marriage. And this is how it may be formulated: AChristian (and by this term I understand not those who call themselvesChristians merely because they were baptized and still receive thesacrament once a year, but those whose lives are shaped and regulatedby the teachings of Christ), I say, cannot view the marriage relationotherwise than as a deviation from the doctrine of Christ, --as a sin. This is clearly laid down in Matt. V. 28, and the ceremony calledChristian marriage does not alter its character one jot. A Christianwill never, therefore, desire marriage, but will always avoid it. 

If the light of truth dawns upon a Christian when he is already married, or if, being a Christian, from weakness he enters into marital relationswith the ceremonies of the church, or without them, he has no otheralternative than to abide with his wife (and the wife with her husband, if it is she who is a Christian) and to aspire together with her to freethemselves of their sin. This is the Christian view of marriage; andthere cannot be any other for a man who honestly endeavors to shape hislife in accordance with the teachings of Christ. 

To very many persons the thoughts I have uttered here and in "TheKreutzer Sonata" will seem strange, vague, even contradictory. Theycertainly do contradict, not each other, but the whole tenor of ourlives, and involuntarily a doubt arises, "on which side is truth, --onthe side of the thoughts which seem true and well-founded, or on theside of the lives of others and myself?" I, too, was weighed downby that same doubt when writing "The Kreutzer Sonata. " I had not thefaintest presentiment that the train of thought I had started would leadme whither it did. I was terrified by my own conclusion, and I was atfirst disposed to reject it, but it was impossible not to hearken to thevoice of my reason and my conscience. And so, strange though they mayappear to many, opposed as they undoubtedly are to the trend and tenorof our lives, and incompatible though they may prove with what I haveheretofore thought and uttered, I have no choice but to accept them. "But man is weak, " people will object. "His task should be regulated byhis strength. "

This is tantamount to saying, "My hand is weak. I cannot draw a straightline, --that is, a line which will be the shortest line between two givenpoints, --and so, in order to make it more easy for myself, I, intendingto draw a straight, will choose for my model a crooked line. "

The weaker my hand, the greater the need that my model should beperfect. 

LEO TOLSTOI. 

IVAN THE FOOL. 

Copyright, 1891, by CHAS. L. WEBSTER & CO. 

CHAPTER I

In a certain kingdom there lived a rich peasant, who had threesons--Simeon (a soldier), Tarras-Briukhan (fat man), and Ivan (afool)--and one daughter, Milania, born dumb. Simeon went to war, toserve the Czar; Tarras went to a city and became a merchant; and Ivan, with his sister, remained at home to work on the farm. 

For his valiant service in the army, Simeon received an estate with highrank, and married a noble's daughter. Besides his large pay, he was inreceipt of a handsome income from his estate; yet he was unable to makeends meet. What the husband saved, the wife wasted in extravagance. Oneday Simeon went to the estate to collect his income, when the stewardinformed him that there was no income, saying:

"We have neither horses, cows, fishing-nets, nor implements; it isnecessary first to buy everything, and then to look for income. "

Simeon thereupon went to his father and said:

"You are rich, batiushka [little father], but you have given nothingto me. Give me one-third of what you possess as my share, and I willtransfer it to my estate. "

The old man replied: "You did not help to bring prosperity to ourhousehold. For what reason, then, should you now demand the third partof everything? It would be unjust to Ivan and his sister. "

"Yes, " said Simeon; "but he is a fool, and she was born dumb. What needhave they of anything?"

"See what Ivan will say. "

Ivan's reply was: "Well, let him take his share. "

Simeon took the portion allotted to him, and went again to serve in thearmy. 

Tarras also met with success. He became rich and married a merchant'sdaughter, but even this failed to satisfy his desires, and he also wentto his father and said, "Give me my share. "

The old man, however, refused to comply with his request, saying: "Youhad no hand in the accumulation of our property, and what our householdcontains is the result of Ivan's hard work. It would be unjust, " herepeated, "to Ivan and his sister. "

Tarras replied: "But he does not need it. He is a fool, and cannotmarry, for no one will have him; and sister does not require anything, for she was born dumb. " Turning then to Ivan he continued: "Give me halfthe grain you have, and I will not touch the implements or fishing-nets;and from the cattle I will take only the dark mare, as she is not fit toplow. "

Ivan laughed and said: "Well, I will go and arrange matters so thatTarras may have his share, " whereupon Tarras took the brown mare withthe grain to town, leaving Ivan with one old horse to work on as beforeand support his father, mother, and sister. 

CHAPTER II. 

It was disappointing to the Stary Tchert (Old Devil) that the brothersdid not quarrel over the division of the property, and that theyseparated peacefully; and he cried out, calling his three small devils(Tchertionki). 

"See here, " said he, "there are living three brothers--Simeon thesoldier, Tarras-Briukhan, and Ivan the Fool. It is necessary thatthey should quarrel. Now they live peacefully, and enjoy each other'shospitality. The Fool spoiled all my plans. Now you three go and workwith them in such a manner that they will be ready to tear each other'seyes out. Can you do this?"

"We can, " they replied. 

"How will you accomplish it?"

"In this way: We will first ruin them to such an extent that they willhave nothing to eat, and we will then gather them together in one placewhere we are sure that they will fight. "

"Very well; I see you understand your business. Go, and do not return tome until you have created a feud between the three brothers--or I willskin you alive. "

The three small devils went to a swamp to consult as to the best meansof accomplishing their mission. They disputed for a long time--eachone wanting the easiest part of the work--and not being able to agree, concluded to draw lots; by which it was decided that the one who wasfirst finished had to come and help the others. This agreement beingentered into, they appointed a time when they were again to meet in theswamp--to find out who was through and who needed assistance. 

The time having arrived, the young devils met in the swamp as agreed, when each related his experience. The first, who went to Simeon, said:"I have succeeded in my undertaking, and to-morrow Simeon returns to hisfather. "

His comrades, eager for particulars, inquired how he had done it. 

"Well, " he began, "the first thing I did was to blow some courage intohis veins, and, on the strength of it, Simeon went to the Czar andoffered to conquer the whole world for him. The Emperor made himcommander-in-chief of the forces, and sent him with an army to fight theViceroy of India. Having started on their mission of conquest, they wereunaware that I, following in their wake, had wet all their powder. I also went to the Indian ruler and showed him how I could createnumberless soldiers from straw. 

"Simeon's army, seeing that they were surrounded by such a vast number ofIndian warriors of my creation, became frightened, and Simeon commandedto fire from cannons and rifles, which of course they were unable todo. The soldiers, discouraged, retreated in great disorder. Thus Simeonbrought upon himself the terrible disgrace of defeat. His estate wasconfiscated, and to-morrow he is to be executed. All that remains forme to do, therefore, " concluded the young devil, "is to release himto-morrow morning. Now, then, who wants my assistance?"

The second small devil (from Tarras) then related his story. 

"I do not need any help, " he began. "My business is also all right. Mywork with Tarras will be finished in one week. In the first place I madehim grow thin. He afterward became so covetous that he wanted to possesseverything he saw, and he spent all the money he had in the purchaseof immense quantities of goods. When his capital was gone he stillcontinued to buy with borrowed money, and has become involved in suchdifficulties that he cannot free himself. At the end of one week thedate for the payment of his notes will have expired, and, his goodsbeing seized upon, he will become a bankrupt; and he also will return tohis father. "

At the conclusion of this narrative they inquired of the third devil howthings had fared between him and Ivan. 

"Well, " said he, "my report is not so encouraging. The first thing I didwas to spit into his jug of quass [a sour drink made from rye], which made him sick at his stomach. He afterward went to plow hissummer-fallow, but I made the soil so hard that the plow could scarcelypenetrate it. I thought the Fool would not succeed, but he started towork nevertheless. Moaning with pain, he still continued to labor. Ibroke one plow, but he replaced it with another, fixing it securely, andresumed work. Going beneath the surface of the ground I took hold of theplowshares, but did not succeed in stopping Ivan. He pressed so hard, and the colter was so sharp, that my hands were cut; and despite myutmost efforts, he went over all but a small portion of the field. "

He concluded with: "Come, brothers, and help me, for if we do notconquer him our whole enterprise will be a failure. If the Fool ispermitted successfully to conduct his farming, they will have no need, for he will support his brothers. "

CHAPTER III. 

Ivan having succeeded in plowing all but a small portion of his land, hereturned the next day to finish it. The pain in his stomach continued, but he felt that he must go on with his work. He tried to start hisplow, but it would not move; it seemed to have struck a hard root. Itwas the small devil in the ground who had wound his feet around theplowshares and held them. 

"This is strange, " thought Ivan. "There were never any roots herebefore, and this is surely one. "

Ivan put his hand in the ground, and, feeling something soft, graspedand pulled it out. It was like a root in appearance, but seemedto possess life. Holding it up he saw that it was a little devil. Disgusted, he exclaimed, "See the nasty thing, " and he proceeded tostrike it a blow, intending to kill it, when the young devil cried out:

"Do not kill me, and I will grant your every wish. "

"What can you do for me?"

"Tell me what it is you most wish for, " the little devil replied. 

Ivan, peasant-fashion, scratched the back of his head as he thought, andfinally he said:

"I am dreadfully sick at my stomach. Can you cure me?"

"I can, " the little devil said. 

"Then do so. "

The little devil bent toward the earth and began searching for roots, and when he found them he gave them to Ivan, saying: "If you willswallow some of these you will be immediately cured of whatsoeverdisease you are afflicted with. "

Ivan did as directed, and obtained instant relief. 

"I beg of you to let me go now, " the little devil pleaded; "I will passinto the earth, never to return. "

"Very well; you may go, and God bless you;" and as Ivan pronounced thename of God, the small devil disappeared into the earth like a flash, and only a slight opening in the ground remained. 

Ivan placed in his hat what roots he had left, and proceeded to plow. Soon finishing his work, he turned his plow over and returned home. 

When he reached the house he found his brother Simeon and his wifeseated at the supper-table. His estate had been confiscated, and hehimself had barely escaped execution by making his way out of prison, and having nothing to live upon had come back to his father for support. 

Turning to Ivan he said: "I came to ask you to care for us until I canfind something to do. "

"Very well, " Ivan replied; "you may remain with us. "

Just as Ivan was about to sit down to the table Simeon's wife made a wryface, indicating that she did not like the smell of Ivan's sheep-skincoat; and turning to her husband she said, "I shall not sit at the tablewith a moujik [peasant] who smells like that. "

Simeon the soldier turned to his brother and said: "My lady objects tothe smell of your clothes. You may eat in the porch. "

Ivan said: "Very well, it is all the same to me. I will soon have to goand feed my horse any way. "

Ivan took some bread in one hand, and his kaftan (coat) in the other, and left the room. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The small devil finished with Simeon that night, and according toagreement went to the assistance of his comrade who had charge ofIvan, that he might help to conquer the Fool. He went to the field andsearched everywhere, but could find nothing but the hole through whichthe small devil had disappeared. 

"Well, this is strange, " he said; "something must have happened to mycompanion, and I will have to take his place and continue the work hebegan. The Fool is through with his plowing, so I must look about mefor some other means of compassing his destruction. I must overflow hismeadow and prevent him from cutting the grass. "

The little devil accordingly overflowed the meadow with muddy water, and, when Ivan went at dawn next morning with his scythe set andsharpened and tried to mow the grass, he found that it resisted all hisefforts and would not yield to the implement as usual. 

Many times Ivan tried to cut the grass, but always without success. Atlast, becoming weary of the effort, he decided to return home and havehis scythe again sharpened, and also to procure a quantity of bread, saying: "I will come back here and will not leave until I have mown allthe meadow, even if it should take a whole week. "

Hearing this, the little devil became thoughtful, saying: "That Ivan isa koolak [hard case], and I must think of some other way of conqueringhim. "

Ivan soon returned with his sharpened scythe and started to mow. 

The small devil hid himself in the grass, and as the point of the scythecame down he buried it in the earth and made it almost impossible forIvan to move the implement. He, however, succeeded in mowing all butone small spot in the swamp, where again the small devil hid himself, saying: "Even if he should cut my hands I will prevent him fromaccomplishing his work. "

When Ivan came to the swamp he found that the grass was not very thick. Still, the scythe would not work, which made him so angry that he workedwith all his might, and one blow more powerful than the others cut off aportion of the small devil's tail, who had hidden himself there. 

Despite the little devil's efforts he succeeded in finishing his work, when he returned home and ordered his sister to gather up the grasswhile he went to another field to cut rye. But the devil preceded himthere, and fixed the rye in such a manner that it was almost impossiblefor Ivan to cut it; however, after continuous hard labor he succeeded, and when he was through with the rye he said to himself: "Now I willstart to mow oats. "

On hearing this, the little devil thought to himself: "I could notprevent him from mowing the rye, but I will surely stop him from mowingthe oats when the morning comes. "

Early next day, when the devil came to the field, he found that the oatshad been already mowed. Ivan did it during the night, so as to avoidthe loss that might have resulted from the grain being too ripe and dry. Seeing that Ivan again had escaped him, the little devil became greatlyenraged, saying:

"He cut me all over and made me tired, that fool. I did not meet suchmisfortune even on the battle-field. He does not even sleep;" and thedevil began to swear. "I cannot follow him, " he continued. "I will gonow to the heaps and make everything rotten. "

Accordingly he went to a heap of the new-mown grain and began hisfiendish work. After wetting it he built a fire and warmed himself, andsoon was fast asleep. 

Ivan harnessed his horse, and, with his sister, went to bring the ryehome from the field. 

After lifting a couple of sheaves from the first heap his pitchfork cameinto contact with the little devil's back, which caused the latter tohowl with pain and to jump around in every direction. Ivan exclaimed:

"See here! What nastiness! You again here?"

"I am another one!" said the little devil. "That was my brother. I amthe one who was sent to your brother Simeon. "

"Well, " said Ivan, "it matters not who you are. I will fix you all thesame. "

As Ivan was about to strike the first blow the devil pleaded: "Let me goand I will do you no more harm. I will do whatever you wish. "

"What can you do for me?" asked Ivan. 

"I can make soldiers from almost anything. "

"And what will they be good for?"

"Oh, they will do everything for you!"

"Can they sing?"

"They can. "

"Well, make them. "

"Take a bunch of straw and scatter it on the ground, and see if eachstraw will not turn into a soldier. "

Ivan shook the straws on the ground, and, as he expected, each strawturned into a soldier, and they began marching with a band at theirhead. 

"Ishty [look you], that was well done! How it will delight the villagemaidens!" he exclaimed. 

The small devil now said: "Let me go; you do not need me any longer. "

But Ivan said: "No, I will not let you go just yet. You have convertedthe straw into soldiers, and now I want you to turn them again intostraw, as I cannot afford to lose it, but I want it with the grain on. "

The devil replied: "Say: 'So many soldiers, so much straw. '"

Ivan did as directed, and got back his rye with the straw. 

The small devil again begged for his release. 

Ivan, taking him from the pitchfork, said: "With God's blessing you maydepart"; and, as before at the mention of God's name, the little devilwas hurled into the earth like a flash, and nothing was left but thehole to show where he had gone. 

Soon afterward Ivan returned home, to find his brother Tarras and hiswife there. Tarras-Briukhan could not pay his debts, and was forced toflee from his creditors and seek refuge under his father's roof. SeeingIvan, he said: "Well, Ivan, may we remain here until I start in some newbusiness?"

Ivan replied as he had before to Simeon: "Yes, you are perfectly welcometo remain here as long as it suits you. "

With that announcement he removed his coat and seated himself at thesupper-table with the others. But Tarras-Briukhan's wife objected to thesmell of his clothes, saying: "I cannot eat with a fool; neither can Istand the smell. "

Then Tarras-Briukhan said: "Ivan, from your clothes there comes a badsmell; go and eat by yourself in the porch. "

"Very well, " said Ivan; and he took some bread and went out as ordered, saying, "It is time for me to feed my mare. "

CHAPTER V. 

The small devil who had charge of Tarras finished with him that night, and according to agreement proceeded to the assistance of the other twoto help them conquer Ivan. Arriving at the plowed field he lookedaround for his comrades, but found only the hole through which one haddisappeared; and on going to the meadow he discovered the severed tailof the other, and in the rye-field he found yet another hole. 

"Well, " he thought, "it is quite clear that my comrades have met withsome great misfortune, and that I will have to take their places andarrange the feud between the brothers. "

The small devil then went in search of Ivan. But he, having finishedwith the field, was nowhere to be found. He had gone to the forest tocut logs to build homes for his brothers, as they found it inconvenientfor so many to live under the same roof. 

The small devil at last discovered his whereabouts, and going to theforest climbed into the branches of the trees and began to interferewith Ivan's work. Ivan cut down a tree, which failed, however, to fallto the ground, becoming entangled in the branches of other trees; yet hesucceeded in getting it down after a hard struggle. In chopping down thenext tree he met with the same difficulties, and also with the third. Ivan had supposed he could cut down fifty trees in a day, but hesucceeded in chopping but ten before darkness put an end to his laborsfor a time. He was now exhausted, and, perspiring profusely, he sat downalone in the woods to rest. He soon after resumed his work, cutting downone more tree; but the effort gave him a pain in his back, and he wasobliged to rest again. Seeing this, the small devil was full of joy. 

"Well, " he thought, "now he is exhausted and will stop work, and I willrest also. " He then seated himself on some branches and rejoiced. 

Ivan again arose, however, and, taking his axe, gave the tree a terrificblow from the opposite side, which felled it instantly to the ground, carrying the little devil with it; and Ivan, proceeding to cut thebranches, found the devil alive. Very much astonished, Ivan exclaimed:

"Look you! Such nastiness! Are you again here?"

"I am another one, " replied the devil. "I was with your brother Tarras. "

"Well, " said Ivan, "that makes no difference; I will fix you. " And hewas about to strike him a blow with the axe when the devil pleaded:

"Do not kill me, and whatever you wish you shall have. "

Ivan asked, "What can you do?"

"I can make for you all the money you wish. "

Ivan then told the devil he might proceed, whereupon the latter began toexplain to him how he might become rich. 

"Take, " said he to Ivan, "the leaves of this oak tree and rub them inyour hands, and the gold will fall to the ground. "

Ivan did as he was directed, and immediately the gold began to dropabout his feet; and he remarked:

"This will be a fine trick to amuse the village boys with. "

"Can I now take my departure?" asked the devil, to which Ivan replied, "With God's blessing you may go. "

At the mention of the name of God, the devil disappeared into the earth. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The brothers, having finished their houses, moved into them and livedapart from their father and brother. Ivan, when he had completed hisplowing, made a great feast, to which he invited his brothers, tellingthem that he had plenty of beer for them to drink. The brothers, however, declined Ivan's hospitality, saying, "We have seen the beermoujiks drink, and want none of it. "

Ivan then gathered around him all the peasants in the village andwith them drank beer until he became intoxicated, when he joined theKhorovody (a street gathering of the village boys and girls, who singsongs), and told them they must sing his praises, saying that in returnhe would show them such sights as they had never before seen in theirlives. The little girls laughed and began to sing songs praising Ivan, and when they had finished they said: "Very well; now give us what yousaid you would. "

Ivan replied, "I will soon show you, " and, taking an empty bag in hishand, he started for the woods. The little girls laughed as they said, "What a fool he is!" and resuming their play they forgot all about him. 

Some time after Ivan suddenly appeared among them carrying in his handthe bag, which was now filled. 

"Shall I divide this with you?" he said. 

"Yes; divide!" they sang in chorus. 

So Ivan put his hand into the bag and drew it out full of gold coins, which he scattered among them. 

"Batiushka, " they cried as they ran to gather up the precious pieces. 

The moujiks then appeared on the scene and began to fight amongthemselves for the possession of the yellow objects. In the melee oneold woman was nearly crushed to death. 

Ivan laughed and was greatly amused at the sight of so many personsquarrelling over a few pieces of gold. 

"Oh! you duratchki" (little fools), he said, "why did you almost crushthe life out of the old grandmother? Be more gentle. I have plenty more, and I will give them to you;" whereupon he began throwing about more ofthe coins. 

The people gathered around him, and Ivan continued throwing until heemptied his bag. They clamored for more, but Ivan replied: "The goldis all gone. Another time I will give you more. Now we will resume oursinging and dancing. "

The little children sang, but Ivan said to them, "Your songs are nogood. "

The children said, "Then show us how to sing better. "

To this Ivan replied, "I will show you people who can sing better thanyou. " With that remark Ivan went to the barn and, securing a bundleof straw, did as the little devil had directed him; and presently aregiment of soldiers appeared in the village street, and he ordered themto sing and dance. 

The people were astonished and could not understand how Ivan hadproduced the strangers. 

The soldiers sang for some time, to the great delight of the villagers;and when Ivan commanded them to stop they instantly ceased. 

Ivan then ordered them off to the barn, telling the astonished andmystified moujiks that they must not follow him. Reaching the barn, he turned the soldiers again into straw and went home to sleep off theeffects of his debauch. 

CHAPTER VII. 

The next morning Ivan's exploits were the talk of the village, and newsof the wonderful things he had done reached the ears of his brotherSimeon, who immediately went to Ivan to learn all about it. 

"Explain to me, " he said; "from whence did you bring the soldiers, andwhere did you take them?"

"And what do you wish to know for?" asked Ivan. 

"Why, with soldiers we can do almost anything we wish--whole kingdomscan be conquered, " replied Simeon. 

This information greatly surprised Ivan, who said: "Well, why did younot tell me about this before? I can make as many as you want. "

Ivan then took his brother to the barn, but he said: "While I am willingto create the soldiers, you must take them away from here; for if itshould become necessary to feed them, all the food in the village wouldlast them only one day. "

Simeon promised to do as Ivan wished, whereupon Ivan proceeded toconvert the straw into soldiers. Out of one bundle of straw he made anentire regiment; in fact, so many soldiers appeared as if by magic thatthere was not a vacant spot in the field. 

Turning to Simeon Ivan said, "Well, is there a sufficient number?"

Beaming with joy, Simeon replied: "Enough! enough! Thank you, Ivan!"

"Glad you are satisfied, " said Ivan, "and if you wish more I will makethem for you. I have plenty of straw now. "

Simeon divided his soldiers into battalions and regiments, and afterhaving drilled them he went forth to fight and to conquer. 

Simeon had just gotten safely out of the village with his soldiers whenTarras, the other brother, appeared before Ivan--he also having heardof the previous day's performance and wanting to learn the secret ofhis power. He sought Ivan, saying: "Tell me the secret of your supply ofgold, for if I had plenty of money I could with its assistance gather inall the wealth in the world. "

Ivan was greatly surprised on hearing this statement, and said: "Youmight have told me this before, for I can obtain for you as much moneyas you wish. "

Tarras was delighted, and he said, "You might get me about threebushels. "

"Well, " said Ivan, "we will go to the woods, or, better still, wewill harness the horse, as we could not possibly carry so much moneyourselves. "

The brothers went to the woods and Ivan proceeded to gather the oakleaves, which he rubbed between his hands, the dust falling to theground and turning into gold pieces as quickly as it fell. 

When quite a pile had accumulated Ivan turned to Tarras and asked if hehad rubbed enough leaves into money, whereupon Tarras replied: "Thankyou, Ivan; that will be sufficient for this time. "

Ivan then said: "If you wish more, come to me and I will rub as much asyou want, for there are plenty of leaves. "

Tarras, with his tarantas (wagon) filled with gold, rode away to thecity to engage in trade and increase his wealth; and thus both brotherswent their way, Simeon to fight and Tarras to trade. 

Simeon's soldiers conquered a kingdom for him and Tarras-Briukhan madeplenty of money. 

Some time afterward the two brothers met and confessed to each otherthe source from whence sprang their prosperity, but they were not yetsatisfied. 

Simeon said: "I have conquered a kingdom and enjoy a very pleasant life, but I have not sufficient money to procure food for my soldiers;" whileTarras confessed that he was the possessor of enormous wealth, but thecare of it caused him much uneasiness. 

"Let us go again to our brother, " said Simeon; "I will order him to makemore soldiers and will give them to you, and you may then tell him thathe must make more money so that we can buy food for them. "

They went again to Ivan, and Simeon said: "I have not sufficientsoldiers; I want you to make me at least two divisions more. " But Ivanshook his head as he said: "I will not create soldiers for nothing; youmust pay me for doing it. "

"Well, but you promised, " said Simeon. 

"I know I did, " replied Ivan; "but I have changed my mind since thattime. "

"But, fool, why will you not do as you promised?"

"For the reason that your soldiers kill men, and I will not make anymore for such a cruel purpose. " With this reply Ivan remained stubbornand would not create any more soldiers. 

Tarras-Briukhan next approached Ivan and ordered him to make more money;but, as in the case of Tarras, Ivan only shook his head, as he said:"I will not make you any money unless you pay me for doing it. I cannotwork without pay. "

Tarras then reminded him of his promise. 

"I know I promised, " replied Ivan; "but still I must refuse to do as youwish. "

"But why, fool, will you not fulfill your promise?" asked Tarras. 

"For the reason that your gold was the means of depriving Mikhailovna ofher cow. "

"But how did that happen?" inquired Tarras. 

"It happened in this way, " said Ivan. "Mikhailovna always kept a cow, and her children had plenty of milk to drink; but some time ago one ofher boys came to me to beg for some milk, and I asked, 'Where is yourcow?' when he replied, 'A clerk of Tarras-Briukhan came to our homeand offered three gold pieces for her. Our mother could not resist thetemptation, and now we have no milk to drink. I gave you the gold piecesfor your pleasure, and you put them to such poor use that I will notgive you any more. '"

The brothers, on hearing this, took their departure to discuss as to thebest plan to pursue in regard to a settlement of their troubles. 

Simeon said: "Let us arrange it in this way: I will give you the half ofmy kingdom, and soldiers to keep guard over your wealth; and you give memoney to feed the soldiers in my half of the kingdom. "

To this arrangement Tarras agreed, and both the brothers became rulersand very happy. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Ivan remained on the farm and worked to support his father, mother, anddumb sister. Once it happened that the old dog, which had grown up onthe farm, was taken sick, when Ivan thought he was dying, and, takingpity on the animal, placed some bread in his hat and carried it to him. It happened that when he turned out the bread the root which the littledevil had given him fell out also. The old dog swallowed it with thebread and was almost instantly cured, when he jumped up and began to waghis tail as an expression of joy. Ivan's father and mother, seeingthe dog cured so quickly, asked by what means he had performed such amiracle. 

Ivan replied: "I had some roots which would cure any disease, and thedog swallowed one of them. "

It happened about that time that the Czar's daughter became ill, and herfather had it announced in every city, town, and village that whosoeverwould cure her would be richly rewarded; and if the lucky person shouldprove to be a single man he would give her in marriage to him. 

This announcement, of course, appeared in Ivan's village. 

Ivan's father and mother called him and said: "If you have any of thosewonderful roots, go and cure the Czar's daughter. You will be muchhappier for having performed such a kind act--indeed, you will be madehappy for all your after life. "

"Very well, " said Ivan; and he immediately made ready for the journey. As he reached the porch on his way out he saw a poor woman standingdirectly in his path and holding a broken arm. The woman accosted him, saying:

"I was told that you could cure me, and will you not please do so, as Iam powerless to do anything for myself?"

Ivan replied: "Very well, my poor woman; I will relieve you if I can. "

He produced a root which he handed to the poor woman and told her toswallow it. 

She did as Ivan told her and was instantly cured, and went awayrejoicing that she had recovered the use of her arm. 

Ivan's father and mother came out to wish him good luck on his journey, and to them he told the story of the poor woman, saying that hehad given her his last root. On hearing this his parents were muchdistressed, as they now believed him to be without the means of curingthe Czar's daughter, and began to scold him. 

"You had pity for a beggar and gave no thought to the Czar's daughter, "they said. 

"I have pity for the Czar's daughter also, " replied Ivan, after whichhe harnessed his horse to his wagon and took his seat ready for hisdeparture; whereupon his parents said: "Where are you going, youfool--to cure the Czar's daughter, and without anything to do it with?"

"Very well, " replied Ivan, as he drove away. 

In due time he arrived at the palace, and the moment he appeared onthe balcony the Czar's daughter was cured. The Czar was overjoyed andordered Ivan to be brought into his presence. He dressed him in therichest robes and addressed him as his son-in-law. Ivan was married tothe Czarevna, and, the Czar dying soon after, Ivan became ruler. Thusthe three brothers became rulers in different kingdoms. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The brothers lived and reigned. Simeon, the eldest brother, with hisstraw soldiers took captive the genuine soldiers and trained all alike. He was feared by every one. 

Tarras-Briukhan, the other brother, did not squander the gold heobtained from Ivan, but instead greatly increased his wealth, and atthe same time lived well. He kept his money in large trunks, and, whilehaving more than he knew what to do with, still continued to collectmoney from his subjects. The people had to work for the money to pay thetaxes which Tarras levied on them, and life was made burdensome to them. 

Ivan the Fool did not enjoy his wealth and power to the same extentas did his brothers. As soon as his father-in-law, the late Czar, wasburied, he discarded the Imperial robes which had fallen to him and toldhis wife to put them away, as he had no further use for them. Havingcast aside the insignia of his rank, he once more donned his peasantgarb and started to work as of old. 

"I felt lonesome, " he said, "and began to grow enormously stout, and yetI had no appetite, and neither could I sleep. "

Ivan sent for his father, mother, and dumb sister, and brought them tolive with him, and they worked with him at whatever he chose to do. 

The people soon learned that Ivan was a fool. His wife one day said tohim, "The people say you are a fool, Ivan. "

"Well, let them think so if they wish, " he replied. 

His wife pondered this reply for some time, and at last decided thatif Ivan was a fool she also was one, and that it would be useless to gocontrary to her husband, thinking affectionately of the old proverb that"where the needle goes there goes the thread also. " She therefore castaside her magnificent robes, and, putting them into the trunkwith Ivan's, dressed herself in cheap clothing and joined her dumbsister-in-law, with the intention of learning to work. She succeeded sowell that she soon became a great help to Ivan. 

Seeing that Ivan was a fool, all the wise men left the kingdom and onlythe fools remained. They had no money, their wealth consisting onlyof the products of their labor. But they lived peacefully together, supported themselves in comfort, and had plenty to spare for the needyand afflicted. 

CHAPTER X. 

The old devil grew tired of waiting for the good news which he expectedthe little devils to bring him. He waited in vain to hear of the ruin ofthe brothers, so he went in search of the emissaries which he had sentto perform that work for him. After looking around for some time, andseeing nothing but the three holes in the ground, he decided that theyhad not succeeded in their work and that he would have to do it himself. 

The old devil next went in search of the brothers, but he could learnnothing of their whereabouts. After some time he found them in theirdifferent kingdoms, contented and happy. This greatly incensed theold devil, and he said, "I will now have to accomplish their missionmyself. "

He first visited Simeon the soldier, and appeared before him as avoyevoda (general), saying: "You, Simeon, are a great warrior, and Ialso have had considerable experience in warfare, and am desirous ofserving you. "

Simeon questioned the disguised devil, and seeing that he was anintelligent man took him into his service. 

The new General taught Simeon how to strengthen his army until it becamevery powerful. New implements of warfare were introduced. 

Cannons capable of throwing one hundred balls a minute were alsoconstructed, and these, it was expected, would be of deadly effect inbattle. 

Simeon, on the advice of his new General, ordered all young men above acertain age to report for drill. On the same advice Simeon establishedgun-shops, where immense numbers of cannons and rifles were made. 

The next move of the new General was to have Simeon declare war againstthe neighboring kingdom. This he did, and with his immense army marchedinto the adjoining territory, which he pillaged and burned, destroyingmore than half the enemy's soldiers. This so frightened the ruler ofthat country that he willingly gave up half of his kingdom to save theother half. 

Simeon, overjoyed at his success, declared his intention of marchinginto Indian territory and subduing the Viceroy of that country. 

But Simeon's intentions reached the ears of the Indian ruler, whoprepared to do battle with him. In addition to having secured allthe latest implements of warfare, he added still others of his owninvention. He ordered all boys over fourteen and all single women tobe drafted into the army, until its proportions became much larger thanSimeon's. His cannons and rifles were of the same pattern as Simeon's, and he invented a flying-machine from which bombs could be thrown intothe enemy's camp. 

Simeon went forth to conquer the Viceroy with full confidence in his ownpowers to succeed. This time luck forsook him, and instead of being theconqueror he was himself conquered. 

The Indian ruler had so arranged his army that Simeon could not evenget within shooting distance, while the bombs from the flying-machinecarried destruction and terror in their path, completely routing hisarmy, so that Simeon was left alone. 

The Viceroy took possession of his kingdom and Simeon had to fly for hislife. 

Having finished with Simeon, the old devil next approached Tarras. Heappeared before him disguised as one of the merchants of his kingdom, and established factories and began to make money. The "merchant" paidthe highest price for everything he purchased, and the people ran afterhim to sell their goods. Through this "merchant" they were enabled tomake plenty of money, paying up all their arrears of taxes as well asthe others when they came due. 

Tarras was overjoyed at this condition of affairs and said: "Thanks tothis merchant, now I will have more money than before, and life will bemuch pleasanter for me. "

He wished to erect new buildings, and advertised for workmen, offeringthe highest prices for all kinds of labor. Tarras thought the peoplewould be as anxious to work as formerly, but instead he was muchsurprised to learn that they were working for the "merchant. " Thinkingto induce them to leave the "merchant, " he increased his offers, but theformer, equal to the emergency, also raised the wages of his workmen. Tarras, having plenty of money, increased the offers still more; butthe "merchant" raised them still higher and got the better of him. Thus, defeated at every point, Tarras was compelled to abandon the idea ofbuilding. 

Tarras next announced that he intended laying out gardens and erectingfountains, and the work was to be commenced in the fall, but no onecame to offer his services, and again he was obliged to forego hisintentions. Winter set in, and Tarras wanted some sable fur with whichto line his great-coat, and he sent his man to procure it for him; butthe servant returned without it, saying: "There are no sables to be had. The 'merchant' has bought them all, paying a very high price for them. "

Tarras needed horses and sent a messenger to purchase them, but hereturned with the same story as on former occasions--that none were tobe found, the "merchant" having bought them all to carry water for anartificial pond he was constructing. Tarras was at last compelled tosuspend business, as he could not find any one willing to work for him. They had all gone over to the "merchant's" side. The only dealings thepeople had with Tarras were when they went to pay their taxes. His moneyaccumulated so fast that he could not find a place to put it, and hislife became miserable. He abandoned all idea of entering upon the newventure, and only thought of how to exist peaceably. This he foundit difficult to do, for, turn which way he would, fresh obstaclesconfronted him. Even his cooks, coachmen, and all his other servantsforsook him and joined the "merchant. " With all his wealth he hadnothing to eat, and when he went to market he found the "merchant" hadbeen there before him and had bought up all the provisions. Still, thepeople continued to bring him money. 

Tarras at last became so indignant that he ordered the "merchant" outof his kingdom. He left, but settled just outside the boundary line, andcontinued his business with the same result as before, and Tarras wasfrequently forced to go without food for days. It was rumored that the"merchant" wanted to buy even Tarras himself. On hearing this the latterbecame very much alarmed and could not decide as to the best course topursue. 

About this time his brother Simeon arrived in the kingdom, and said:"Help me, for I have been defeated and ruined by the Indian Viceroy. "

Tarras replied: "How can I help you, when I have had no food myself fortwo days?"

CHAPTER XI. 

The old devil, having finished with the second brother, went to Ivan theFool. This time he disguised himself as a General, the same as in thecase of Simeon, and, appearing before Ivan, said: "Get an army together. It is disgraceful for the ruler of a kingdom to be without an army. Youcall your people to assemble, and I will form them into a fine largearmy. "

Ivan took the supposed General's advice, and said: "Well, you may formmy people into an army, but you must also teach them to sing the songs Ilike. "

The old devil then went through Ivan's kingdom to secure recruits forthe army, saying: "Come, shave your heads [the heads of recruits arealways shaved in Russia] and I will give each of you a red hat andplenty of vodki" (whiskey). 

At this the fools only laughed, and said: "We can have all the vodki wewant, for we distill it ourselves; and of hats, our little girls makeall we want, of any color we please, and with handsome fringes. "

Thus was the devil foiled in securing recruits for his army; sohe returned to Ivan and said: "Your fools will not volunteer to besoldiers. It will therefore be necessary to force them. "

"Very well, " replied Ivan, "you may use force if you want to. "

The old devil then announced that all the fools must become soldiers, and those who refused, Ivan would punish with death. 

The fools went to the General; and said: "You tell us that Ivan willpunish with death all those who refuse to become soldiers, but you haveomitted to state what will be done with us soldiers. We have been toldthat we are only to be killed. "

"Yes, that is true, " was the reply. 

The fools on hearing this became stubborn and refused to go. 

"Better kill us now if we cannot avoid death, but we will not becomesoldiers, " they declared. 

"Oh! you fools, " said the old devil, "soldiers may and may not bekilled; but if you disobey Ivan's orders you will find certain death athis hands. "

The fools remained absorbed in thought for some time and finally went toIvan to question him in regard to the matter. 

On arriving at his house they said: "A General came to us with an orderfrom you that we were all to become soldiers, and if we refused you wereto punish us with death. Is it true?"

Ivan began to laugh heartily on hearing this, and said: "Well, how Ialone can punish you with death is something I cannot understand. If Iwas not a fool myself I would be able to explain it to you, but as it isI cannot. "

"Well, then, we will not go, " they said. 

"Very well, " replied Ivan, "you need not become soldiers unless you wishto. "

The old devil, seeing his schemes about to prove failures, went to theruler of Tarakania and became his friend, saying: "Let us go andconquer Ivan's kingdom. He has no money, but he has plenty of cattle, provisions, and various other things that would be useful to us. "

The Tarakanian ruler gathered his large army together, and equipping itwith cannons and rifles, crossed the boundary line into Ivan's kingdom. The people went to Ivan and said: "The ruler of Tarakania is here with alarge army to fight us. "

"Let them come, " replied Ivan. 

The Tarakanian ruler, after crossing the line into Ivan's kingdom, looked in vain for soldiers to fight against; and waiting some time andnone appearing, he sent his own warriors to attack the villages. 

They soon reached the first village, which they began to plunder. 

The fools of both sexes looked calmly on, offering not the leastresistance when their cattle and provisions were being taken from them. On the contrary, they invited the soldiers to come and live with them, saying: "If you, dear friends, find it is difficult to earn a living inyour own land, come and live with us, where everything is plentiful. "

The soldiers decided to remain, finding the people happy and prosperous, with enough surplus food to supply many of their neighbors. They weresurprised at the cordial greetings which they everywhere received, and, returning to the ruler of Tarakania, they said: "We cannot fight withthese people--take us to another place. We would much prefer the dangersof actual warfare to this unsoldierly method of subduing the village. "

The Tarakanian ruler, becoming enraged, ordered the soldiers to destroythe whole kingdom, plunder the villages, burn the houses and provisions, and slaughter the cattle. 

"Should you disobey my orders, " said he, "I will have every one of youexecuted. "

The soldiers, becoming frightened, started to do as they were ordered, but the fools wept bitterly, offering no resistance, men, women, andchildren all joining in the general lamentation. 

"Why do you treat us so cruelly?" they cried to the invading soldiers. "Why do you wish to destroy everything we have? If you have more needof these things than we have, why not take them with you and leave us inpeace?"

The soldiers, becoming saddened with remorse, refused further topursue their path of destruction--the entire army scattering in manydirections. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The old devil, failing to ruin Ivan's kingdom with soldiers, transformedhimself into a nobleman, dressed exquisitely, and became one ofIvan's subjects, with the intention of compassing the downfall of hiskingdom--as he had done with that of Tarras. 

The "nobleman" said to Ivan: "I desire to teach you wisdom and to renderyou other service. I will build you a palace and factories. "

"Very well, " said Ivan; "you may live with us. "

The next day the "nobleman" appeared on the Square with a sack of goldin his hand and a plan for building a house, saying to the people: "Youare living like pigs, and I am going to teach you how to live decently. You are to build a house for me according to this plan. I willsuperintend the work myself, and will pay you for your services ingold, " showing them at the same time the contents of his sack. 

The fools were amused. They had never before seen any money. Theirbusiness was conducted entirely by exchange of farm products or byhiring themselves out to work by the day in return for whatever theymost needed. They therefore glanced at the gold pieces with amazement, and said, "What nice toys they would be to play with!" In return for thegold they gave their services and brought the "nobleman" the produce oftheir farms. 

The old devil was overjoyed as he thought, "Now my enterprise is on afair road and I will be able to ruin the Fool--as I did his brothers. "

The fools obtained sufficient gold to distribute among the entirecommunity, the women and young girls of the village wearing much of itas ornaments, while to the children they gave some pieces to play withon the streets. 

When they had secured all they wanted they stopped working and the"noblemen" did not get his house more than half finished. He had neitherprovisions nor cattle for the year, and ordered the people to bring himboth. He directed them also to go on with the building of the palace andfactories. He promised to pay them liberally in gold for everything theydid. No one responded to his call--only once in awhile a little boy orgirl would call to exchange eggs for his gold. 

Thus was the "nobleman" deserted, and, having nothing to eat, he wentto the village to procure some provisions for his dinner. He went toone house and offered gold in return for a chicken, but was refused, theowner saying: "We have enough of that already and do not want any more. "

He next went to a fish-woman to buy some herring, when she, too, refusedto accept his gold in return for fish, saying: "I do not wish it, mydear man; I have no children to whom I can give it to play with. I havethree pieces which I keep as curiosities only. "

He then went to a peasant to buy bread, but he also refused to acceptthe gold. "I have no use for it, " said he, "unless you wish to give itfor Christ's sake; then it will be a different matter, and I will tellmy baba [old woman] to cut a piece of bread for you. "

The old devil was so angry that he ran away from the peasant, spittingand cursing as he went. 

Not only did the offer to accept in the name of Christ anger him, butthe very mention of the name was like the thrust of a knife in histhroat. 

The old devil did not succeed in getting any bread, and in his effortsto secure other articles of food he met with the same failure. Thepeople had all the gold they wanted and what pieces they had theyregarded as curiosities. They said to the old devil: "If you bring ussomething else in exchange for food, or come to ask for Christ's sake, we will give you all you want. "

But the old devil had nothing but gold, and was too lazy to work;and being unable to accept anything for Christ's sake, he was greatlyenraged. 

"What else do you want?" he said. "I will give you gold with which youcan buy everything you want, and you need labor no longer. "

But the fools would not accept his gold, nor listen to him. Thus the olddevil was obliged to go to sleep hungry. 

Tidings of this condition of affairs soon reached the ears of Ivan. Thepeople went to him and said: "What shell we do? This nobleman appearedamong us; he is well dressed; he wishes to eat and drink of the best, but is unwilling to work, and does not beg for food for Christ's sake. He only offers every one gold pieces. At first we gave him everything hewanted, taking the gold pieces in exchange just as curiosities; butnow we have enough of them and refuse to accept any more from him. Whatshall we do with him? he may die of hunger!"

Ivan heard all they had to say, and told them to employ him as ashepherd, taking turns in doing so. 

The old devil saw no other way out of the difficulty and was obliged tosubmit. 

It soon came the old devil's turn to go to Ivan's house. He went thereto dinner and found Ivan's dumb sister preparing the meal. She was oftencheated by the lazy people, who while they did not work, yet ate up allthe gruel. But she learned to know the lazy people from the condition oftheir hands. Those with great welts on their hands she invited firstto the table, and those having smooth white hands had to take what wasleft. 

The old devil took a seat at the table, but the dumb girl, taking hishands, looked at them, and seeing them white and clean, and with longnails, swore at him and put him from the table. 

Ivan's wife said to the old devil: "You must excuse my sister-in-law;she will not allow any one to sit at the table whose hands have not beenhardened by toil, so you will have to wait until the dinner is over andthen you can have what is left. With it you must be satisfied. "

The old devil was very much offended that he was made to eat with"pigs, " as he expressed it, and complained to Ivan, saying: "The foolishlaw you have in your kingdom, that all persons must work, is surely theinvention of fools. People who work for a living are not always forcedto labor with their hands. Do you think wise men labor so?"

Ivan replied: "Well, what do fools know about it? We all work with ourhands. "

"And for that reason you are fools, " replied the devil. "I can teach youhow to use your brains, and you will find such labor more beneficial. "

Ivan was surprised at hearing this, and said:

"Well, it is perhaps not without good reason that we are called fools. "

"It is not so easy to work with the brain, " the old devil said. "You will not give me anything to eat because my hands have not theappearance of being toil-hardened, but you must understand that it ismuch harder to do brain-work, and sometimes the head feels like burstingwith the effort it is forced to make. "

"Then why do you not select some light work that you can perform withyour hands?" Ivan asked. 

The devil said: "I torment myself with brain-work because I have pityfor you fools, for, if I did not torture myself, people like you wouldremain fools for all eternity. I have exercised my brain a great dealduring my life, and now I am able to teach you. "

Ivan was greatly surprised and said: "Very well; teach us, so that whenour hands are tired we can use our heads to replace them. "

The devil promised to instruct the people, and Ivan announced the factthroughout his kingdom. 

The devil was willing to teach all those who came to him how to use thehead instead of the hands, so as to produce more with the former thanwith the latter. 

In Ivan's kingdom there was a high tower, which was reached by a long, narrow ladder leading up to the balcony, and Ivan told the old devilthat from the top of the tower every one could see him. 

So the old devil went up to the balcony and addressed the people. 

The fools came in great crowds to hear what the old devil had to say, thinking that he really meant to tell them how to work with the head. But the old devil only told them in words what to do, and did not givethem any practical instruction. He said that men working only with theirhands could not make a living. The fools did not understand what hesaid to them and looked at him in amazement, and then departed for theirdaily work. 

The old devil addressed them for two days from the balcony, and at theend of that time, feeling hungry, he asked the people to bring him somebread. But they only laughed at him and told him if he could work betterwith his head than with his hands he could also find bread for himself. He addressed the people for yet another day, and they went to hear himfrom curiosity, but soon left him to return to their work. 

Ivan asked, "Well, did the nobleman work with his head?"

"Not yet, " they said; "so far he has only talked. "

One day, while the old devil was standing on the balcony, he becameweak, and, falling down, hurt his head against a pole. 

Seeing this, one of the fools ran to Ivan's wife and said, "Thegentleman has at last commenced to work with his head. "

She ran to the field to tell Ivan, who was much surprised, and said, "Let us go and see him. "

He turned his horses' heads in the direction of the tower, where the olddevil remained weak from hunger and was still suspended from the pole, with his body swaying back and forth and his head striking the lowerpart of the pole each time it came in contact with it. While Ivanwas looking, the old devil started down the steps head-first--as theysupposed, to count them. 

"Well, " said Ivan, "he told the truth after all--that sometimes fromthis kind of work the head bursts. This is far worse than welts on thehands. "

The old devil fell to the ground head-foremost. Ivan approached him, but at that instant the ground opened and the devil disappeared, leavingonly a hole to show where he had gone. 

Ivan scratched his head and said: "See here; such nastiness! This is yetanother devil. He looks like the father of the little ones. "

Ivan still lives, and people flock to his kingdom. His brothers come tohim and he feeds them. 

To every one who comes to him and says, "Give us food, " he replies:"Very well; you are welcome. We have plenty of everything. "

There is only one unchangeable custom observed in Ivan's kingdom: Theman with toil-hardened hands is always given a seat at the table, whilethe possessor of soft white hands must be contented with what is left. 

A LOST OPPORTUNITY. 

 "Then came Peter to Him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?" . . . . "So likewise shall My heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses. "--ST. MATTHEW xviii. , 21-35. 

In a certain village there lived a peasant by the name of IvanScherbakoff. He was prosperous, strong, and vigorous, and was consideredthe hardest worker in the whole village. He had three sons, whosupported themselves by their own labor. The eldest was married, thesecond about to be married, and the youngest took care of the horses andoccasionally attended to the plowing. 

The peasant's wife, Ivanovna, was intelligent and industrious, while herdaughter-in-law was a simple, quiet soul, but a hard worker. 

There was only one idle person in the household, and that was Ivan'sfather, a very old man who for seven years had suffered from asthma, andwho spent the greater part of his time lying on the brick oven. 

Ivan had plenty of everything--three horses, with one colt, a cowwith calf, and fifteen sheep. The women made the men's clothes, and inaddition to performing all the necessary household labor, also worked inthe field; while the men's industry was confined altogether to the farm. 

What was left of the previous year's supply of provisions was ample fortheir needs, and they sold a quantity of oats sufficient to pay theirtaxes and other expenses. 

Thus life went smoothly for Ivan. 

The peasant's next-door neighbor was a son of Gordey Ivanoff, called"Gavryl the Lame. " It once happened that Ivan had a quarrel with him;but while old man Gordey was yet alive, and Ivan's father was the headof the household, the two peasants lived as good neighbors should. If the women of one house required the use of a sieve or pail, theyborrowed it from the inmates of the other house. The same condition ofaffairs existed between the men. They lived more like one family, theone dividing his possessions with the other, and perfect harmony reignedbetween the two families. 

If a stray calf or cow invaded the garden of one of the farmers, theother willingly drove it away, saying: "Be careful, neighbor, that yourstock does not again stray into my garden; we should put a fence up. "In the same way they had no secrets from each other. The doors of theirhouses and barns had neither bolts nor locks, so sure were they ofeach other's honesty. Not a shadow of suspicion darkened their dailyintercourse. 

Thus lived the old people. 

In time the younger members of the two households started farming. Itsoon became apparent that they would not get along as peacefully as theold people had done, for they began quarrelling without the slightestprovocation. 

A hen belonging to Ivan's daughter-in-law commenced laying eggs, whichthe young woman collected each morning, intending to keep them for theEaster holidays. She made daily visits to the barn, where, under an oldwagon, she was sure to find the precious egg. 

One day the children frightened the hen and she flew over theirneighbor's fence and laid her egg in their garden. 

Ivan's daughter-in-law heard the hen cackling, but said: "I am very busyjust at present, for this is the eve of a holy day, and I must clean andarrange this room. I will go for the egg later on. "

When evening came, and she had finished her task, she went to the barn, and as usual looked under the old wagon, expecting to find an egg. But, alas! no egg was visible in the accustomed place. 

Greatly disappointed, she returned to the house and inquired of hermother-in-law and the other members of the family if they had taken it. "No, " they said, "we know nothing of it. "

Taraska, the youngest brother-in-law, coming in soon after, she alsoinquired of him if he knew anything about the missing egg. "Yes, "he replied; "your pretty, crested hen laid her egg in our neighbors'garden, and after she had finished cackling she flew back again over thefence. "

The young woman, greatly surprised on hearing this, turned and lookedlong and seriously at the hen, which was sitting with closed eyes besidethe rooster in the chimney-corner. She asked the hen where it laid theegg. At the sound of her voice it simply opened and closed its eyes, butcould make no answer. 

She then went to the neighbors' house, where she was met by an oldwoman, who said: "What do you want, young woman?"

Ivan's daughter-in-law replied: "You see, babushka [grandmother], my henflew into your yard this morning. Did she not lay an egg there?"

"We did not see any, " the old woman replied; "we have our own hens--Godbe praised!--and they have been laying for this long time. We huntonly for the eggs our own hens lay, and have no use for the eggs otherpeople's hens lay. Another thing I want to tell you, young woman: we donot go into other people's yards to look for eggs. "

Now this speech greatly angered the young woman, and she replied in thesame spirit in which she had been spoken to, only using much strongerlanguage and speaking at greater length. 

The neighbor replied in the same angry manner, and finally the womenbegan to abuse each other and call vile names. It happened that oldIvan's wife, on her way to the well for water, heard the dispute, andjoined the others, taking her daughter-in-law's part. 

Gavryl's housekeeper, hearing the noise, could not resist the temptationto join the rest and to make her voice heard. As soon as she appeared onthe scene, she, too, began to abuse her neighbor, reminding her of manydisagreeable things which had happened (and many which had not happened)between them. She became so infuriated during her denunciations that shelost all control of herself, and ran around like some mad creature. 

Then all the women began to shout at the same time, each trying tosay two words to another's one, and using the vilest language in thequarreller's vocabulary. 

"You are such and such, " shouted one of the women. "You are a thief, aschlukha [a mean, dirty, low creature]; your father-in-law is even nowstarving, and you have no shame. You beggar, you borrowed my sieve andbroke it. You made a large hole in it, and did not buy me another. "

"You have our scale-beam, " cried another woman, "and must give it backto me;" whereupon she seized the scale-beam and tried to remove it fromthe shoulders of Ivan's wife. 

In the melee which followed they upset the pails of water. They tore thecovering from each other's head, and a general fight ensued. 

Gavryl's wife had by this time joined in the fracas, and he, crossingthe field and seeing the trouble, came to her rescue. 

Ivan and his son, seeing that their womenfolk were being badly used, jumped into the midst of the fray, and a fearful fight followed. 

Ivan was the most powerful peasant in all the country round, and itdid not take him long to disperse the crowd, for they flew in alldirections. During the progress of the fight Ivan tore out a largequantity of Gavryl's beard. 

By this time a large crowd of peasants had collected, and it was withthe greatest difficulty that they persuaded the two families to stopquarrelling. 

This was the beginning. 

Gavryl took the portion of his beard which Ivan had torn out, and, wrapping it in a paper, went to the volostnoye (moujiks' court) andentered a complaint against Ivan. 

Holding up the hair, he said, "I did not grow this for that bear Ivan totear out!"

Gavryl's wife went round among the neighbors, telling them that theymust not repeat what she told them, but that she and her husband weregoing to get the best of Ivan, and that he was to be sent to Siberia. 

And so the quarrelling went on. 

The poor old grandfather, sick with asthma and lying on the brick ovenall the time, tried from the first to dissuade them from quarrelling, and begged of them to live in peace; but they would not listen to hisgood advice. He said to them: "You children are making a great fuss andmuch trouble about nothing. I beg of you to stop and think of what alittle thing has caused all this trouble. It has arisen from only oneegg. If our neighbors' children picked it up, it is all right. God blessthem! One egg is of but little value, and without it God will supplysufficient for all our needs. "

Ivan's daughter-in-law here interposed and said, "But they called usvile names. "

The old grandfather again spoke, saying: "Well, even if they did callyou bad names, it would have been better to return good for evil, andby your example show them how to speak better. Such conduct on your partwould have been best for all concerned. " He continued: "Well, you had afight, you wicked people. Such things sometimes happen, but it wouldbe better if you went afterward and asked forgiveness and buried yourgrievances out of sight. Scatter them to the four winds of heaven, forif you do not do so it will be the worse for you in the end. "

The younger members of the family, still obstinate, refused to profitby the old man's advice, and declared he was not right, and that he onlyliked to grumble in his old-fashioned way. 

Ivan refused to go to his neighbor, as the grandfather wished, saying:"I did not tear out Gavryl's beard. He did it himself, and his son toremy shirt and trousers into shreds. "

Ivan entered suit against Gavryl. He first went to the village justice, and not getting satisfaction from him he carried his case to the villagecourt. 

While the neighbors were wrangling over the affair, each suing theother, it happened that a perch-bolt from Gavryl's wagon was lost; andthe women of Gavryl's household accused Ivan's son of stealing it. 

They said: "We saw him in the night-time pass by our window, on his wayto where the wagon was standing. " "And my kumushka [sponsor], " said oneof them, "told me that Ivan's son had offered it for sale at the kabak[tavern]. "

This accusation caused them again to go into court for a settlement oftheir grievances. 

While the heads of the families were trying to have their troublessettled in court, their home quarrels were constant, and frequentlyresulted in hand-to-hand encounters. Even the little children followedthe example of their elders and quarrelled incessantly. 

The women, when they met on the riverbank to do the family washing, instead of attending to their work passed the time in abusing eachother, and not infrequently they came to blows. 

At first the male members of the families were content with accusingeach other of various crimes, such as stealing and like meannesses. Butthe trouble in this mild form did not last long. 

They soon resorted to other measures. They began to appropriate oneanother's things without asking permission, while various articlesdisappeared from both houses and could not be found. This was done outof revenge. 

This example being set by the men, the women and children also followed, and life soon became a burden to all who took part in the strife. 

Ivan Scherbakoff and "Gavryl the Lame" at last laid their trouble beforethe mir (village meeting), in addition to having been in court andcalling on the justice of the peace. Both of the latter had grown tiredof them and their incessant wrangling. One time Gavryl would succeed inhaving Ivan fined, and if he was not able to pay it he would be lockedup in the cold dreary prison for days. Then it would be Ivan's turn toget Gavryl punished in like manner, and the greater the injury the onecould do the other the more delight he took in it. 

The success of either in having the other punished only served toincrease their rage against each other, until they were like mad dogs intheir warfare. 

If anything went wrong with one of them he immediately accused hisadversary of conspiring to ruin him, and sought revenge without stoppingto inquire into the rights of the case. 

When the peasants went into court, and had each other fined andimprisoned, it did not soften their hearts in the least. They would onlytaunt one another on such occasions, saying: "Never mind; I will repayyou for all this. "

This state of affairs lasted for six years. 

Ivan's father, the sick old man, constantly repeated his good advice. Hewould try to arouse their conscience by saying: "What are you doing, mychildren? Can you not throw off all these troubles, pay more attentionto your business, and suppress your anger against your neighbors? Thereis no use in your continuing to live in this way, for the more enragedyou become against each other the worse it is for you. "

Again was the wise advice of the old man rejected. 

At the beginning of the seventh year of the existence of the feud ithappened that a daughter-in-law of Ivan's was present at a marriage. Atthe wedding feast she openly accused Gavryl of stealing a horse. Gavrylwas intoxicated at the time and was in no mood to stand the insult, soin retaliation he struck the woman a terrific blow, which confined herto her bed for more than a week. The woman being in delicate health, theworst results were feared. 

Ivan, glad of a fresh opportunity to harass his neighbor, lodged aformal complaint before the district-attorney, hoping to rid himselfforever of Gavryl by having him sent to Siberia. 

On examining the complaint the district-attorney would not consider it, as by that time the injured woman was walking about and as well as ever. 

Thus again Ivan was disappointed in obtaining his revenge, and, notbeing satisfied with the district-attorney's decision, had the casetransferred to the court, where he used all possible means to push hissuit. To secure the favor of the starshina (village mayor) he made hima present of half a gallon of sweet vodki; and to the mayor's pisar(secretary) also he gave presents. By this means he succeeded insecuring a verdict against Gavryl. The sentence was that Gavryl was toreceive twenty lashes on his bare back, and the punishment was to beadministered in the yard which surrounded the court-house. 

When Ivan heard the sentence read he looked triumphantly at Gavryl tosee what effect it would produce on him. Gavryl turned very white onhearing that he was to be treated with such indignity, and turning hisback on the assembly left the room without uttering a word. 

Ivan followed him out, and as he reached his horse he heard Gavrylsaying: "Very well; my spine will burn from the lashes, but somethingwill burn with greater fierceness in Ivan's household before long. "

Ivan, on hearing these words, instantly returned to the court, and goingup to the judges said: "Oh! just judges, he threatens to burn my houseand all it contains. "

A messenger was immediately sent in search of Gavryl, who was soon foundand again brought into the presence of the judges. 

"Is it true, " they asked, "that you said you would burn Ivan's house andall it contained?"

Gavryl replied: "I did not say anything of the kind. You may give me asmany lashes as you please--that is, if you have the power to do so. It seems to me that I alone have to suffer for the truth, while he, "pointing to Ivan, "is allowed to do and say what he pleases. " Gavrylwished to say something more, but his lips trembled, and the wordsrefused to come; so in silence he turned his face toward the wall. 

The sight of so much suffering moved even the judges to pity, and, becoming alarmed at Gavryl's continued silence, they said, "He may doboth his neighbor and himself some frightful injury. "

"See here, my brothers, " said one feeble old judge, looking at Ivan andGavryl as he spoke, "I think you had better try to arrange this matterpeaceably. You, brother Gavryl, did wrong to strike a woman who was indelicate health. It was a lucky thing for you that God had mercy onyou and that the woman did not die, for if she had I know not what diremisfortune might have overtaken you! It will not do either of you anygood to go on living as you are at present. Go, Gavryl, and make friendswith Ivan; I am sure he will forgive you, and we will set aside theverdict just given. "

The secretary on hearing this said: "It is impossible to do this on thepresent case. According to Article 117 this matter has gone too far tobe settled peaceably now, as the verdict has been rendered and must beenforced. "

But the judges would not listen to the secretary, saying to him: "Youtalk altogether too much. You must remember that the first thing is tofulfill God's command to 'Love thy neighbor as thyself, ' and all will bewell with you. "

Thus with kind words the judges tried to reconcile the two peasants. Their words fell on stony ground, however, for Gavryl would not listento them. 

"I am fifty years old, " said Gavryl, "and have a son married, and neverfrom my birth has the lash been applied to my back; but now this bearIvan has secured a verdict against me which condemns me to receivetwenty lashes, and I am forced to bow to this decision and suffer theshame of a public beating. Well, he will have cause to remember this. "

At this Gavryl's voice trembled and he stopped speaking, and turning hisback on the judges took his departure. 

It was about ten versts' distance from the court to the homes of theneighbors, and this Ivan travelled late. The women had already goneout for the cattle. He unharnessed his horse and put everything in itsplace, and then went into the izba (room), but found no one there. 

The men had not yet returned from their work in the field and the womenhad gone to look for the cattle, so that all about the place was quiet. Going into the room, Ivan seated himself on a wooden bench and soonbecame lost in thought. He remembered how, when Gavryl first heard thesentence which had been passed upon him, he grew very pale, and turnedhis face to the wall, all the while remaining silent. 

Ivan's heart ached when he thought of the disgrace which he had been themeans of bringing upon Gavryl, and he wondered how he would feel if thesame sentence had been passed upon him. His thoughts were interrupted bythe coughing of his father, who was lying on the oven. 

The old man, on seeing Ivan, came down off the oven, and slowlyapproaching his son seated himself on the bench beside him, looking athim as though ashamed. He continued to cough as he leaned on the tableand said, "Well, did they sentence him?"

"Yes, they sentenced him to receive twenty lashes, " replied Ivan. 

On hearing this the old man sorrowfully shook his head, and said: "Thisis very bad, Ivan, and what is the meaning of it all? It is indeedvery bad, but not so bad for Gavryl as for yourself. Well, suppose hissentence IS carried out, and he gets the twenty lashes, what will itbenefit you?"

"He will not again strike a woman, " Ivan replied. 

"What is it he will not do? He does not do anything worse than what youare constantly doing!"

This conversation enraged Ivan, and he shouted: "Well, what did he do?He beat a woman nearly to death, and even now he threatens to burn myhouse! Must I bow to him for all this?"

The old man sighed deeply as he said: "You, Ivan, are strong and free togo wherever you please, while I have been lying for years on the oven. You think that you know everything and that I do not know anything. No!you are still a child, and as such you cannot see that a kind of madnesscontrols your actions and blinds your sight. The sins of others are everbefore you, while you resolutely keep your own behind your back. I knowthat what Gavryl did was wrong, but if he alone should do wrong therewould be no evil in the world. Do you think that all the evil in theworld is the work of one man alone? No! it requires two persons to workmuch evil in the world. You see only the bad in Gavryl's character, butyou are blind to the evil that is in your own nature. If he alone werebad and you good, then there would be no wrong. "

The old man, after a pause, continued: "Who tore Gavryl's beard? Whodestroyed his heaps of rye? Who dragged him into court?--and yet youtry to put all the blame on his shoulders. You are behaving very badlyyourself, and for that reason you are wrong. I did not act in such amanner, and certainly I never taught you to do so. I lived in peace withGavryl's father all the time we were neighbors. We were always the bestof friends. If he was without flour his wife would come to me and say, 'Diadia Frol [Grandfather], we need flour. ' I would then say: 'My goodwoman, go to the warehouse and take as much as you want. ' If he had noone to care for his horses I would say, 'Go, Ivanushka [diminutive ofIvan], and help him to care for them. ' If I required anything I would goto him and say, 'Grandfather Gordey, I need this or that, ' and he wouldalways reply, 'Take just whatever you want. ' By this means we passed aneasy and peaceful life. But what is your life compared with it? As thesoldiers fought at Plevna, so are you and Gavryl fighting all the time, only that your battles are far more disgraceful than that fought atPlevna. "

The old man went on: "And you call this living! and what a sin itall is! You are a peasant, and the head of the house; therefore, theresponsibility of the trouble rests with you. What an example you setyour wife and children by constantly quarrelling with your neighbor!Only a short time since your little boy, Taraska, was cursing his auntArina, and his mother only laughed at it, saying, 'What a bright childhe is!' Is that right? You are to blame for all this. You should thinkof the salvation of your soul. Is that the way to do it? You say oneunkind word to me and I will reply with two. You will give me one slapin the face, and I will retaliate with two slaps. No, my son; Christ didnot teach us foolish people to act in such a way. If any one should sayan unkind word to you it is better not to answer at all; but if youdo reply do it kindly, and his conscience will accuse him, and he willregret his unkindness to you. This is the way Christ taught us to live. He tells us that if a person smite us on the one cheek we should offerunto him the other. That is Christ's command to us, and we should followit. You should therefore subdue your pride. Am I not right?"

Ivan remained silent, but his father's words had sunk deep into hisheart. 

The old man coughed and continued: "Do you think Christ thought uswicked? Did he not die that we might be saved? Now you think only ofthis earthly life. Are you better or worse for thinking alone of it? Areyou better or worse for having begun that Plevna battle? Think of yourexpense at court and the time lost in going back and forth, and whathave you gained? Your sons have reached manhood, and are able now towork for you. You are therefore at liberty to enjoy life and be happy. With the assistance of your children you could reach a high state ofprosperity. But now your property instead of increasing is graduallygrowing less, and why? It is the result of your pride. When it becomesnecessary for you and your boys to go to the field to work, your enemyinstead summons you to appear at court or before some kind of judicialperson. If you do not plow at the proper time and sow at the proper timemother earth will not yield up her products, and you and your childrenwill be left destitute. Why did your oats fail this year? When didyou sow them? Were you not quarrelling with your neighbor instead ofattending to your work? You have just now returned from the town, whereyou have been the means of having your neighbor humiliated. You havesucceeded in getting him sentenced, but in the end the punishment willfall on your own shoulders. Oh! my child, it would be better for youto attend to your work on the farm and train your boys to become goodfarmers and honest men. If any one offend you forgive him for Christ'ssake, and then prosperity will smile on your work and a light and happyfeeling will fill your heart. "

Ivan still remained silent. 

The old father in a pleading voice continued: "Take an old man's advice. Go and harness your horse, drive back to the court, and withdraw allthese complaints against your neighbor. To-morrow go to him, offer tomake peace in Christ's name, and invite him to your house. It will bea holy day (the birth of the Virgin Mary). Get out the samovar andhave some vodki, and over both forgive and forget each other's sins, promising not to transgress in the future, and advise your women andchildren to do the same. "

Ivan heaved a deep sigh but felt easier in his heart, as he thought:"The old man speaks the truth;" yet he was in doubt as to how he wouldput his father's advice into practice. 

The old man, surmising his uncertainty, said to Ivan: "Go, Ivanushka; donot delay. Extinguish the fire in the beginning, before it grows large, for then it may be impossible. "

Ivan's father wished to say more to him, but was prevented by thearrival of the women, who came into the room chattering like so manymagpies. They had already heard of Gavryl's sentence, and of how hethreatened to set fire to Ivan's house. They found out all about it, andin telling it to their neighbors added their own versions of thestory, with the usual exaggeration. Meeting in the pasture-ground, theyproceeded to quarrel with Gavryl's women. They related how the latter'sdaughter-in-law had threatened to secure the influence of the manager ofa certain noble's estate in behalf of his friend Gavryl; also that theschool-teacher was writing a petition to the Czar himself against Ivan, explaining in detail his theft of the perchbolt and partial destructionof Gavryl's garden--declaring that half of Ivan's land was to be givento them. 

Ivan listened calmly to their stories, but his anger was soon arousedonce more, when he abandoned his intention of making peace with Gavryl. 

As Ivan was always busy about the household, he did not stop to speak tothe wrangling women, but immediately left the room, directing his stepstoward the barn. Before getting through with his work the sun had setand the boys had returned from their plowing. Ivan met them and askedabout their work, helping them to put things in order and leaving thebroken horse-collar aside to be repaired. He intended to perform someother duties, but it became too dark and he was obliged to leave themtill the next day. He fed the cattle, however, and opened the gate thatTaraska might take his horses to pasture for the night, after which heclosed it again and went into the house for his supper. 

By this time he had forgotten all about Gavryl and what his father hadsaid to him. Yet, just as he touched the door-knob, he heard sounds ofquarrelling proceeding from his neighbor's house. 

"What do I want with that devil?" shouted Gavryl to some one. "Hedeserves to be killed!"

Ivan stopped and listened for a moment, when he shook his headthreateningly and entered the room. When he came in, the apartment wasalready lighted. His daughter-in-law was working with her loom, whilethe old woman was preparing the supper. The eldest son was twiningstrings for his lapti (peasant's shoes made of strips of bark from thelinden-tree). The other son was sitting by the table reading a book. Theroom presented a pleasant appearance, everything being in order and theinmates apparently gay and happy--the only dark shadow being that castover the household by Ivan's trouble with his neighbor. 

Ivan came in very cross, and, angrily throwing aside a cat which laysleeping on the bench, cursed the women for having misplaced a pail. He looked very sad and serious, and, seating himself in a corner of theroom, proceeded to repair the horse-collar. He could not forget Gavryl, however--the threatening words he had used in the court-room and thosewhich Ivan had just heard. 

Presently Taraska came in, and after having his supper, put on hissheepskin coat, and, taking some bread with him, returned to watch overhis horses for the night. His eldest brother wished to accompany him, but Ivan himself arose and went with him as far as the porch. The nightwas dark and cloudy and a strong wind was blowing, which produced apeculiar whistling sound that was most unpleasant to the ear. Ivanhelped his son to mount his horse, which, followed by a colt, startedoff on a gallop. 

Ivan stood for a few moments looking around him and listening to theclatter of the horse's hoofs as Taraska rode down the village street. He heard him meet other boys on horseback, who rode quite as well asTaraska, and soon all were lost in the darkness. 

Ivan remained standing by the gate in a gloomy mood, as he was unableto banish from his mind the harassing thoughts of Gavryl, which thelatter's menacing words had inspired: "Something will burn with greaterfierceness in Ivan's household before long. "

"He is so desperate, " thought Ivan, "that he may set fire to my houseregardless of the danger to his own. At present everything is dry, andas the wind is so high he may sneak from the back of his own building, start a fire, and get away unseen by any of us. 

"He may burn and steal without being found out, and thus go unpunished. Iwish I could catch him. "

This thought so worried Ivan that he decided not to return to his house, but went out and stood on the street-corner. 

"I guess, " thought Ivan to himself, "I will take a walk around thepremises and examine everything carefully, for who knows what he may betempted to do?"

Ivan moved very cautiously round to the back of his buildings, notmaking the slightest noise, and scarcely daring to breathe. Just as hereached a corner of the house he looked toward the fence, and it seemedto him that he saw something moving, and that it was slowly creepingtoward the corner of the house opposite to where he was standing. Hestepped back quickly and hid himself in the shadow of the building. Ivanstood and listened, but all was quiet. Not a sound could be heard butthe moaning of the wind through the branches of the trees, and therustling of the leaves as it caught them up and whirled them in alldirections. So dense was the darkness that it was at first impossiblefor Ivan to see more than a few feet beyond where he stood. 

After a time, however, his sight becoming accustomed to the gloom, hewas enabled to see for a considerable distance. The plow and his otherfarming implements stood just where he had placed them. He could seealso the opposite corner of the house. 

He looked in every direction, but no one was in sight, and he thoughtto himself that his imagination must have played him some trick, leadinghim to believe that some one was moving when there really was no onethere. 

Still, Ivan was not satisfied, and decided to make a further examinationof the premises. As on the previous occasion, he moved so verycautiously that he could not hear even the sound of his own footsteps. He had taken the precaution to remove his shoes, that he might step themore noiselessly. When he reached the corner of the barn it again seemedto him that he saw something moving, this time near the plow; but itquickly disappeared. By this time Ivan's heart was beating very fast, and he was standing in a listening attitude when a sudden flash of lightillumined the spot, and he could distinctly see the figure of a manseated on his haunches with his back turned toward him, and in the actof lighting a bunch of straw which he held in his hand! Ivan's heartbegan to beat yet faster, and he became terribly excited, walking up anddown with rapid strides, but without making a noise. 

Ivan said: "Well, now, he cannot get away, for he will be caught in thevery act. "

Ivan had taken a few more steps when suddenly a bright light flamedup, but not in the same spot in which he had seen the figure of the mansitting. Gavryl had lighted the straw, and running to the barn held itunder the edge of the roof, which began to burn fiercely; and by thelight of the fire he could distinctly see his neighbor standing. 

As an eagle springs at a skylark, so sprang Ivan at Gavryl, saying: "Iwill tear you into pieces! You shall not get away from me this time!"

But "Gavryl the Lame, " hearing footsteps, wrenched himself free fromIvan's grasp and ran like a hare past the buildings. 

Ivan, now terribly excited, shouted, "You shall not escape me!" andstarted in pursuit; but just as he reached him and was about to graspthe collar of his coat, Gavryl succeeded in jumping to one side, andIvan's coat became entangled in something and he was thrown violentlyto the ground. Jumping quickly to his feet he shouted, "Karaool!derji!"(watch! catch!)

While Ivan was regaining his feet Gavryl succeeded in reaching hishouse, but Ivan followed so quickly that he caught up with him before hecould enter. Just as he was about to grasp him he was struck on the headwith some hard substance. He had been hit on the temple as with a stone. The blow was struck by Gavryl, who had picked up an oaken stave, andwith it gave Ivan a terrible blow on the head. 

Ivan was stunned, and bright sparks danced before his eyes, while heswayed from side to side like a drunken man, until finally all becamedark and he sank to the ground unconscious. 

When he recovered his senses, Gavryl was nowhere to be seen, but allaround him was as light as day. Strange sounds proceeded from thedirection of his house, and turning his face that way he saw that hisbarns were on fire. The rear parts of both were already destroyed, and the flames were leaping toward the front. Fire, smoke, and bits ofburning straw were being rapidly whirled by the high wind over to wherehis house stood, and he expected every moment to see it burst intoflames. 

"What is this, brother?" Ivan cried out, as he beat his thighs with hishands. "I should have stopped to snatch the bunch of burning straw, and, throwing it on the ground, should have extinguished it with my feet!"

Ivan tried to cry out and arouse his people, but his lips refused toutter a word. He next tried to run, but he could not move his feet, andhis legs seemed to twist themselves around each other. After severalattempts he succeeded in taking one or two steps, when he again began tostagger and gasp for breath. It was some moments before he made anotherattempt to move, but after considerable exertion he finally reachedthe barn, the rear of which was by this time entirely consumed; andthe corner of his house had already caught fire. Dense volumes of smokebegan to pour out of the room, which made it difficult to approach. 

A crowd of peasants had by this time gathered, but they found itimpossible to save their homes, so they carried everything which theycould to a place of safety. The cattle they drove into neighboringpastures and left some one to care for them. 

The wind carried the sparks from Ivan's house to Gavryl's, and it, too, took fire and was consumed. The wind continued to increase with greatfury, and the flames spread to both sides of the street, until in a veryshort time more than half the village was burned. 

The members of Ivan's household had great difficulty in getting out ofthe burning building, but the neighbors rescued the old man andcarried him to a place of safety, while the women escaped in only theirnight-clothes. Everything was burned, including the cattle and all thefarm implements. The women lost their trunks, which were filled withquantities of clothing, the accumulation of years. The storehouse andall the provisions perished in the flames, not even the chickens beingsaved. 

Gavryl, however, more fortunate than Ivan, saved his cattle and a fewother things. 

The village was burning all night. 

Ivan stood near his home, gazing sadly at the burning building, andhe kept constantly repeating to himself: "I should have taken away thebunch of burning straw, and have stamped out the fire with my feet. "

But when he saw his home fall in a smouldering heap, in spite of theterrible heat he sprang into the midst of it and carried out a charredlog. The women seeing him, and fearing that he would lose his life, called to him to come back, but he would not pay any attention to themand went a second time to get a log. Still weak from the terrible blowwhich Gavryl had given him, he was overcome by the heat, and fell intothe midst of the burning mass. Fortunately, his eldest son saw him fall, and rushing into the fire succeeded in getting hold of him and carryinghim out of it. Ivan's hair, beard, and clothing were burned entirelyoff. His hands were also frightfully injured, but he seemed indifferentto pain. 

"Grief drove him crazy, " the people said. 

The fire was growing less, but Ivan still stood where he could see it, and kept repeating to himself, "I should have taken, " etc. 

The morning after the fire the starosta (village elder) sent his son toIvan to tell him that the old man, his father, was dying, and wanted tosee him to bid him good-bye. 

In his grief Ivan had forgotten all about his father, and could notunderstand what was being said to him. In a dazed way he asked: "Whatfather? Whom does he want?"

The elder's son again repeated his father's message to Ivan. "Youraged parent is at our house dying, and he wants to see you and bid yougood-bye. Won't you go now, uncle Ivan?" the boy said. 

Finally Ivan understood, and followed the elder's son. 

When Ivan's father was carried from the oven, he was slightly injuredby a big bunch of burning straw falling on him just as he reached thestreet. To insure his safety he was removed to the elder's house, whichstood a considerable distance from his late home, and where it was notlikely that the fire would reach it. 

When Ivan arrived at the elder's home he found only the latter's wifeand children, who were all seated on the brick oven. The old man waslying on a bench holding a lighted candle in his hand (a Russian customwhen a person is dying). Hearing a noise, he turned his face toward thedoor, and when he saw it was his son he tried to move. He motioned forIvan to come nearer, and when he did so he whispered in a tremblingvoice: "Well, Ivanushka, did I not tell you before what would be theresult of this sad affair? Who set the village on fire?"

"He, he, batiushka [little father]; he did it. I caught him. He placedthe bunch of burning straw to the barn in my presence. Instead ofrunning after him, I should have snatched the bunch of burning strawand throwing it on the ground have stamped it out with my feet; and thenthere would have been no fire. "

"Ivan, " said the old man, "death is fast approaching me, and rememberthat you also will have to die. Who did this dreadful thing? Whose isthe sin?"

Ivan gazed at the noble face of his dying father and was silent. Hisheart was too full for utterance. 

"In the presence of God, " the old man continued, "whose is the sin?"

It was only now that the truth began to dawn upon Ivan's mind, and thathe realized how foolish he had acted. He sobbed bitterly, and fell onhis knees before his father, and, crying like a child, said:

"My dear father, forgive me, for Christ's sake, for I am guilty beforeGod and before you!"

The old man transferred the lighted candle from his right hand to theleft, and, raising the former to his forehead, tried to make the sign ofthe cross, but owing to weakness was unable to do so. 

"Glory to Thee, O Lord! Glory to Thee!" he exclaimed; and turning hisdim eyes toward his son, he said: "See here, Ivanushka! Ivanushka, mydear son!"

"What, my dear father?" Ivan asked. 

"What are you going to do, " replied the old man, "now that you have nohome?"

Ivan cried and said: "I do not know how we shall live now. "

The old man closed his eyes and made a movement with his lips, as ifgathering his feeble strength for a final effort. Slowly opening hiseyes, he whispered:

"Should you live according to God's commands you will be happy andprosperous again. "

The old man was now silent for awhile and then, smiling sadly, hecontinued:

"See here, Ivanushka, keep silent concerning this trouble, and do nottell who set the village on fire. Forgive one sin of your neighbor's, and God will forgive two of yours. "

Grasping the candle with both hands, Ivan's father heaved a deep sigh, and, stretching himself out on his back, yielded up the ghost. 

*****

Ivan for once accepted his father's advice. He did not betray Gavryl, and no one ever learned the origin of the fire. 

Ivan's heart became more kindly disposed toward his old enemy, feelingthat much of the fault in connection with this sad affair rested withhimself. 

Gavryl was greatly surprised that Ivan did not denounce him before allthe villagers, and at first he stood in much fear of him, but he soonafterward overcame this feeling. 

The two peasants ceased to quarrel, and their families followed theirexample. While they were building new houses, both families livedbeneath the same roof, and when they moved into their respective homes, Ivan and Gavryl lived on as good terms as their fathers had done beforethem. 

Ivan remembered his dying father's command, and took deeply to heartthe evident warning of God that A FIRE SHOULD BE EXTINGUISHED IN THEBEGINNING. If any one wronged him he did not seek revenge, but insteadmade every effort to settle the matter peaceably. If any one spoke tohim unkindly, he did not answer in the same way, but replied softly, andtried to persuade the person not to speak evil. He taught the women andchildren of his household to do the same. 

Ivan Scherbakoff was now a reformed man. 

He lived well and peacefully, and again became prosperous. 

Let us, therefore, have peace, live in brotherly love and kindness, andwe will be happy. 

"POLIKUSHKA;"

OR, The Lot of a Wicked Court Servant. 

CHAPTER I. 

Polikey was a court man--one of the staff of servants belonging to thecourt household of a boyarinia (lady of the nobility). 

He held a very insignificant position on the estate, and lived in arather poor, small house with his wife and children. 

The house was built by the deceased nobleman whose widow he stillcontinued to serve, and may be described as follows: The four wallssurrounding the one izba (room) were built of stone, and the interiorwas ten yards square. A Russian stove stood in the centre, around whichwas a free passage. Each corner was fenced off as a separate inclosureto the extent of several feet, and the one nearest to the door (thesmallest of all) was known as "Polikey's corner. " Elsewhere in the roomstood the bed (with quilt, sheet, and cotton pillows), the cradle (witha baby lying therein), and the three-legged table, on which the mealswere prepared and the family washing was done. At the latter alsoPolikey was at work on the preparation of some materials for use in hisprofession--that of an amateur veterinary surgeon. A calf, some hens, the family clothes and household utensils, together with seven persons, filled the little home to the utmost of its capacity. It would indeedhave been almost impossible for them to move around had it not been forthe convenience of the stove, on which some of them slept at night, andwhich served as a table in the day-time. 

It seemed hard to realize how so many persons managed to live in suchclose quarters. 

Polikey's wife, Akulina, did the washing, spun and wove, bleached herlinen, cooked and baked, and found time also to quarrel and gossip withher neighbors. 

The monthly allowance of food which they received from the noblewoman'shouse was amply sufficient for the whole family, and there was alwaysenough meal left to make mash for the cow. Their fuel they got free, andlikewise the food for the cattle. In addition they were given a smallpiece of land on which to raise vegetables. They had a cow, a calf, anda number of chickens to care for. 

Polikey was employed in the stables to take care of two stallions, and, when necessary, to bleed the horses and cattle and clean their hoofs. 

In his treatment of the animals he used syringes, plasters, and variousother remedies and appliances of his own invention. For these serviceshe received whatever provisions were required by his family, and acertain sum of money--all of which would have been sufficient to enablethem to live comfortably and even happily, if their hearts had not beenfilled with the shadow of a great sorrow. 

This shadow darkened the lives of the entire family. 

Polikey, while young, was employed in a horse-breeding establishment ina neighboring village. The head stableman was a notorious horse-thief, known far and wide as a great rogue, who, for his many misdeeds, wasfinally exiled to Siberia. Under his instruction Polikey underwent acourse of training, and, being but a boy, was easily induced to performmany evil deeds. He became so expert in the various kinds of wickednesspracticed by his teacher that, though he many times would gladly haveabandoned his evil ways, he could not, owing to the great hold theseearly-formed habits had upon him. His father and mother died when he wasbut a child, and he had no one to point out to him the paths of virtue. 

In addition to his other numerous shortcomings, Polikey was fond ofstrong drink. He also had a habit of appropriating other people'sproperty, when the opportunity offered of his doing so without beingseen. Collar-straps, padlocks, perch-bolts, and things even of greatervalue belonging to others found their way with remarkable rapidity andin great quantities to Polikey's home. He did not, however, keepsuch things for his own use, but sold them whenever he could find apurchaser. His payment consisted chiefly of whiskey, though sometimes hereceived cash. 

This sort of employment, as his neighbors said, was both light andprofitable; it required neither education nor labor. It had onedrawback, however, which was calculated to reconcile his victims totheir losses: Though he could for a time have all his needs suppliedwithout expending either labor or money, there was always thepossibility of his methods being discovered; and this result was sure tobe followed by a long term of imprisonment. This impending danger madelife a burden for Polikey and his family. 

Such a setback indeed very nearly happened to Polikey early in hiscareer. He married while still young, and God gave him much happiness. His wife, who was a shepherd's daughter, was a strong, intelligent, hard-working woman. She bore him many children, each of whom was said tobe better than the preceding one. 

Polikey still continued to steal, but once was caught with some smallarticles belonging to others in his possession. Among them was a pairof leather reins, the property of another peasant, who beat him severelyand reported him to his mistress. 

From that time on Polikey was an object of suspicion, and he was twiceagain detected in similar escapades. By this time the people began toabuse him, and the clerk of the court threatened to recruit him intothe army as a soldier (which is regarded by the peasants as a greatpunishment and disgrace). His noble mistress severely reprimanded him;his wife wept from grief for his downfall, and everything went from badto worse. 

Polikey, notwithstanding his weakness, was a good-natured sort of man, but his love of strong drink had so overcome every moral instinct thatat times he was scarcely responsible for his actions. This habit hevainly endeavored to overcome. It often happened that when he returnedhome intoxicated, his wife, losing all patience, roundly cursed him andcruelly beat him. At times he would cry like a child, and bemoan hisfate, saying: "Unfortunate man that I am, what shall I do? LET MY EYESBURST INTO PIECES if I do not forever give up the vile habit! I will notagain touch vodki. "

In spite of all his promises of reform, but a short period (perhaps amonth) would elapse when Polikey would again mysteriously disappear fromhis home and be lost for several days on a spree. 

"From what source does he get the money he spends so freely?" theneighbors inquired of each other, as they sadly shook their heads. 

One of his most unfortunate exploits in the matter of stealing was inconnection with a clock which belonged to the estate of his mistress. The clock stood in the private office of the noblewoman, and was so oldas to have outlived its usefulness, and was simply kept as an heirloom. It so happened that Polikey went into the office one day when no one waspresent but himself, and, seeing the old clock, it seemed to possessa peculiar fascination for him, and he speedily transferred it to hisperson. He carried it to a town not far from the village, where he veryreadily found a purchaser. 

As if purposely to secure his punishment, it happened that thestorekeeper to whom he sold it proved to be a relative of one of thecourt servants, and who, when he visited his friend on the next holiday, related all about his purchase of the clock. 

An investigation was immediately instituted, and all the details ofPolikey's transaction were brought to light and reported to his noblemistress. He was called into her presence, and, when confronted with thestory of the theft, broke down and confessed all. He fell on his kneesbefore the noblewoman and plead with her for mercy. The kind-heartedlady lectured him about God, the salvation of his soul, and his futurelife. She talked to him also about the misery and disgrace he broughtupon his family, and altogether so worked upon his feelings that hecried like a child. In conclusion his kind mistress said: "I willforgive you this time on the condition that you promise faithfully toreform, and never again to take what does not belong to you. "

Polikey, still weeping, replied: "I will never steal again in all mylife, and if I break my promise may the earth open and swallow me up, and let my body be burned with red-hot irons!"

Polikey returned to his home, and throwing himself on the oven spent theentire day weeping and repeating the promise made to his mistress. 

From that time on he was not again caught stealing, but his life becameextremely sad, for he was regarded with suspicion by every one andpointed to as a thief. 

When the time came round for securing recruits for the army, allthe peasants singled out Polikey as the first to be taken. Thesuperintendent was especially anxious to get rid of him, and went tohis mistress to induce her to have him sent away. The kind-hearted andmerciful woman, remembering the peasant's repentance, refused to grantthe superintendent's request, and told him he must take some other manin his stead. 

CHAPTER II. 

One evening Polikey was sitting on his bed beside the table, preparingsome medicine for the cattle, when suddenly the door was thrown wideopen, and Aksiutka, a young girl from the court, rushed in. Almost outof breath, she said: "My mistress has ordered you, Polikey Illitch [sonof Ilia], to come up to the court at once!"

The girl was standing and still breathing heavily from her late exertionas she continued: "Egor Mikhailovitch, the superintendent, has beento see our lady about having you drafted into the army, and, PolikeyIllitch, your name was mentioned among others. Our lady has sent me totell you to come up to the court immediately. "

As soon as Aksiutka had delivered her message she left the room in thesame abrupt manner in which she had entered. 

Akulina, without saying a word, got up and brought her husband's bootsto him. They were poor, worn-out things which some soldier had givenhim, and his wife did not glance at him as she handed them to him. 

"Are you going to change your shirt, Illitch?" she asked, at last. 

"No, " replied Polikey. 

Akulina did not once look at him all the time he was putting on hisboots and preparing to go to the court. Perhaps, after all, it wasbetter that she did not do so. His face was very pale and his lipstrembled. He slowly combed his hair and was about to depart withoutsaying a word, when his wife stopped him to arrange the ribbon on hisshirt, and, after toying a little with his coat, she put his hat on forhim and he left the little home. 

Polikey's next-door neighbors were a joiner and his wife. A thinpartition only separated the two families, and each could hear what theother said and did. Soon after Polikey's departure a woman was heard tosay: "Well, Polikey Illitch, so your mistress has sent for you!"

The voice was that of the joiner's wife on the other side of thepartition. Akulina and the woman had quarrelled that morning about sometrifling thing done by one of Polikey's children, and it afforded herthe greatest pleasure to learn that her neighbor had been summoned intothe presence of his noble mistress. She looked upon such a circumstanceas a bad omen. She continued talking to herself and said: "Perhaps shewants to send him to the town to make some purchases for her household. I did not suppose she would select such a faithful man as you are toperform such a service for her. If it should prove that she DOES want tosend you to the next town, just buy me a quarter-pound of tea. Will you, Polikey Illitch?"

Poor Akulina, on hearing the joiner's wife talking so unkindly of herhusband, could hardly suppress the tears, and, the tirade continuing, she at last became angry, and wished she could in some way punish her. 

Forgetting her neighbor's unkindness, her thoughts soon turned inanother direction, and glancing at her sleeping children she said toherself that they might soon be orphans and she herself a soldier'swidow. This thought greatly distressed her, and burying her face in herhands she seated herself on the bed, where several of her progeny werefast asleep. Presently a little voice interrupted her meditations bycrying out, "Mamushka [little mother], you are crushing me, " and thechild pulled her nightdress from under her mother's arms. 

Akulina, with her head still resting on her hands, said: "Perhaps itwould be better if we all should die. I only seem to have brought youinto the world to suffer sorrow and misery. "

Unable longer to control her grief, she burst into violent weeping, which served to increase the amusement of the joiner's wife, who hadnot forgotten the morning's squabble, and she laughed loudly at herneighbor's woe. 

CHAPTER III. 

About half an hour had passed when the youngest child began to cry andAkulina arose to feed it. She had by this time ceased to weep, and afterfeeding the infant she again fell into her old position, with her faceburied in her hands. She was very pale, but this only increased herbeauty. After a time she raised her head, and staring at the burningcandle she began to question herself as to why she had married, and asto the reason that the Czar required so many soldiers. 

Presently she heard steps outside, and knew that her husband wasreturning. She hurriedly wiped away the last traces of her tears as shearose to let him pass into the centre of the room. 

Polikey made his appearance with a look of triumph on his face, threwhis hat on the bed, and hastily removed his coat; but not a word did heutter. 

Akulina, unable to restrain her impatience, asked, "Well, what did shewant with you?"

"Pshaw!" he replied, "it is very well known that Polikushka isconsidered the worst man in the village; but when it comes to businessof importance, who is selected then? Why, Polikushka, of course. "

"What kind of business?" Akulina timidly inquired. 

But Polikey was in no hurry to answer her question. He lighted his pipewith a very imposing air, and spit several times on the floor before hereplied. 

Still retaining his pompous manner, he said, "She has ordered me togo to a certain merchant in the town and collect a considerable sum ofmoney. "

"You to collect money?" questioned Akulina. 

Polikey only shook his head and smiled significantly, saying:

"'You, ' the mistress said to me, 'are a man resting under a gravesuspicion--a man who is considered unsafe to trust in any capacity; butI have faith in you, and will intrust you with this important businessof mine in preference to any one else. '"

Polikey related all this in a loud voice, so that his neighbor mighthear what he had to say. 

"'You promised me to reform, ' my noble mistress said to me, 'and I willbe the first to show you how much faith I have in your promise. I wantyou to ride into town, and, going to the principal merchant there, collect a sum of money from him and bring it to me. ' I said to mymistress: 'Everything you order shall be done. I will only too gladlyobey your slightest wish. '

"Then my mistress said: 'Do you understand, Polikey, that your future lotdepends upon the faithful performance of this duty I impose upon you?'I replied: 'Yes, I understand everything, and feel that I will succeed inperforming acceptably any task which you may impose upon me. I have beenaccused of every kind of evil deed that it is possible to charge a manwith, but I have never done anything seriously wrong against you, your honor. ' In this way I talked to our mistress until I succeeded inconvincing her that my repentance was sincere, and she became greatlysoftened toward me, saying, 'If you are successful I will give you thefirst place at the court. '"

"And how much money are you to collect?" inquired Akulina. 

"Fifteen hundred rubles, " carelessly answered Polikey. 

Akulina sadly shook her head as she asked, "When are you to start?"

"She ordered me to leave here to-morrow, " Polikey replied. "'Take anyhorse you please, ' she said. 'Come to the office, and I will see youthere and wish you God-speed on your journey. '"

"Glory to Thee, O Lord!" said Akulina, as she arose and made the signof the cross. "God, I am sure, will bless you, Illitch, " she added, in awhisper, so that the people on the other side of the partition could nothear what she said, all the while holding on to his sleeve. "Illitch, "she cried at last, excitedly, "for God's sake promise me that you willnot touch a drop of vodki. Take an oath before God, and kiss the cross, so that I may be sure that you will not break your promise!"

Polikey replied in most contemptuous tones: "Do you think I will dare totouch vodki when I shall have such a large sum of money in my care?"

"Akulina, have a clean shirt ready for the morning, " were his partingwords for the night. 

So Polikey and his wife went to sleep in a happy frame of mind and fullof bright dreams for the future. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Very early the next morning, almost before the stars had hiddenthemselves from view, there was seen standing before Polikey's home alow wagon, the same in which the superintendent himself used to ride;and harnessed to it was a large-boned, dark-brown mare, called for someunknown reason by the name of Baraban (drum). Aniutka, Polikey'seldest daughter, in spite of the heavy rain and the cold wind which wasblowing, stood outside barefooted and held (not without some fear) thereins in ore hand, while with the other she endeavored to keep her greenand yellow overcoat wound around her body, and also to hold Polikey'ssheepskin coat. 

In the house there were the greatest noise and confusion. The morningwas still so dark that the little daylight there was failed to penetratethrough the broken panes of glass, the window being stuffed in manyplaces with rags and paper to exclude the cold air. 

Akulina ceased from her cooking for a while and helped to get Polikeyready for the journey. Most of the children were still in bed, verylikely as a protection against the cold, for Akulina had taken away thebig overcoat which usually covered them and had substituted a shawl ofher own. Polikey's shirt was all ready, nice and clean, but his shoesbadly needed repairing, and this fact caused his devoted wife muchanxiety. She took from her own feet the thick woollen stockings she waswearing, and gave them to Polikey. She then began to repair his shoes, patching up the holes so as to protect his feet from dampness. 

While this was going on he was sitting on the side of the bed with hisfeet dangling over the edge, and trying to turn the sash which confinedhis coat at the waist. He was anxious to look as clean as possible, andhe declared his sash looked like a dirty rope. 

One of his daughters, enveloped in a sheepskin coat, was sent to aneighbor's house to borrow a hat. 

Within Polikey's home the greatest confusion reigned, for the courtservants were constantly arriving with innumerable small orders whichthey wished Polikey to execute for them in town. One wanted needles, another tea, another tobacco, and last came the joiner's wife, who bythis time had prepared her samovar, and, anxious to make up the quarrelof the previous day, brought the traveller a cup of tea. 

Neighbor Nikita refused the loan of the hat, so the old one had to bepatched up for the occasion. This occupied some time, as there were manyholes in it. 

Finally Polikey was all ready, and jumping on the wagon started on hisjourney, after first making the sign of the cross. 

At the last moment his little boy, Mishka, ran to the door, begging tobe given a short ride; and then his little daughter, Mashka, appeared onthe scene and pleaded that she, too, might have a ride, declaring thatshe would be quite warm enough without furs. 

Polikey stopped the horse on hearing the children, and Akulina placedthem in the wagon, together with two others belonging to a neighbor--allanxious to have a short ride. 

As Akulina helped the little ones into the wagon she took occasion toremind Polikey of the solemn promise he had made her not to touch a dropof vodki during the journey. 

Polikey drove the children as far as the blacksmith's place, where helet them out of the wagon, telling them they must return home. He thenarranged his clothing, and, setting his hat firmly on his head, startedhis horse on a trot. 

The two children, Mishka and Mashka, both barefooted, started running atsuch a rapid pace that a strange dog from another village, seeing themflying over the road, dropped his tail between his legs and ran homesquealing. 

The weather was very cold, a sharp cutting wind blowing continuously;but this did not disturb Polikey, whose mind was engrossed with pleasantthoughts. As he rode through the wintry blasts he kept repeating tohimself: "So I am the man they wanted to send to Siberia, and whom theythreatened to enroll as a soldier--the same man whom every one abused, and said he was lazy, and who was pointed out as a thief and given themeanest work on the estate to do! Now I am going to receive a large sumof money, for which my mistress is sending me because she trusts me. Iam also riding in the same wagon that the superintendent himself useswhen he is riding as a representative of the court. I have the sameharness, leather horse-collar, reins, and all the other gear. "

Polikey, filled with pride at thought of the mission with which he hadbeen intrusted, drew himself up with an air of pride, and, fixing hisold hat more firmly on his head, buttoned his coat tightly about him andurged his horse to greater speed. 

"Just to think, " he continued; "I shall have in my possession threethousand half-rubles [the peasant manner of speaking of money so as tomake it appear a larger sum than it really is], and will carry them inmy bosom. If I wished to I might run away to Odessa instead of takingthe money to my mistress. But no; I will not do that. I will surelycarry the money straight to the one who has been kind enough to trustme. "

When Polikey reached the first kabak (tavern) he found that from longhabit the mare was naturally turning her head toward it; but he wouldnot allow her to stop, though money had been given him to purchaseboth food and drink. Striking the animal a sharp blow with the whip, hepassed by the tavern. The performance was repeated when he reached thenext kabak, which looked very inviting; but he resolutely set his faceagainst entering, and passed on. 

About noon he arrived at his destination, and getting down from thewagon approached the gate of the merchant's house where the servants ofthe court always stopped. Opening it he led the mare through, and (afterunharnessing her) fed her. This done, he next entered the house and haddinner with the merchant's workingman, and to them he related what animportant mission he had been sent on, making himself very amusing bythe pompous air which he assumed. Dinner over, he carried a letter tothe merchant which the noblewoman had given him to deliver. 

The merchant, knowing thoroughly the reputation which Polikey bore, felt doubtful of trusting him with so much money, and somewhat anxiouslyinquired if he really had received orders to carry so many rubles. 

Polikey tried to appear offended at this question, but did not succeed, and he only smiled. 

The merchant, after reading the letter a second time and being convincedthat all was right, gave Polikey the money, which he put in his bosomfor safe-keeping. 

On his way to the house he did not once stop at any of the shops hepassed. The clothing establishments possessed no attractions for him, and after he had safely passed them all he stood for a moment, feelingvery pleased that he had been able to withstand temptation, and thenwent on his way. 

"I have money enough to buy up everything, " he said; "but I will not doso. "

The numerous commissions which he had received compelled him to go tothe bazaar. There he bought only what had been ordered, but he couldnot resist the temptation to ask the price of a very handsome sheep-skincoat which attracted his attention. The merchant to whom he spoke lookedat Polikey and smiled, not believing that he had sufficient money topurchase such an expensive coat. But Polikey, pointing to his breast, said that he could buy out the whole shop if he wished to. He thereuponordered the shop-keeper to take his measure. He tried the coat on andlooked himself over carefully, testing the quality and blowing upon thehair to see that none of it came out. Finally, heaving a deep sigh, hetook it off. 

"The price is too high, " he said. "If you could let me have it forfifteen rubles--"

But the merchant cut him short by snatching the coat from him andthrowing it angrily to one side. 

Polikey left the bazaar and returned to the merchant's house in highspirits. 

After supper he went out and fed the mare, and prepared everything forthe night. Returning to the house he got up on the stove to rest, andwhile there he took out the envelope which contained the money andlooked long and earnestly at it. He could not read, but asked one ofthose present to tell him what the writing on the envelope meant. Itwas simply the address and the announcement that it contained fifteenhundred rubles. 

The envelope was made of common paper and was sealed with dark-brownsealing wax. There was one large seal in the centre and four smallerones at the corners. Polikey continued to examine it carefully, eveninserting his finger till he touched the crisp notes. He appeared totake a childish delight in having so much money in his possession. 

Having finished his examination, he put the envelope inside the liningof his old battered hat, and placing both under his head he went tosleep; but during the night he frequently awoke and always felt toknow if the money was safe. Each time that he found that it was safe herejoiced at the thought that he, Polikey, abused and regarded by everyone as a thief, was intrusted with the care of such a large sum ofmoney, and also that he was about to return with it quite as safely asthe superintendent himself could have done. 

CHAPTER V. 

Before dawn the next morning Polikey was up, and after harnessing themare and looking in his hat to see that the money was all right, hestarted on his return journey. 

Many times on the way Polikey took off his hat to see that the money wassafe. Once he said to himself, "I think that perhaps it would be betterif I should put it in my bosom. " This would necessitate the untying ofhis sash, so he decided to keep it still in his hat, or until he shouldhave made half the journey, when he would be compelled to stop to feedhis horse and to rest. 

He said to himself: "The lining is not sewn in very strongly and theenvelope might fall out, so I think I had better not take off my hatuntil I reach home. "

The money was safe--at least, so it seemed to him--and he began tothink how grateful his mistress would be to him, and in his excitedimagination he saw the five rubles he was so sure of receiving. 

Once more he examined the hat to see that the money was safe, andfinding everything all right he put on his hat and pulled it well downover his ears, smiling all the while at his own thoughts. 

Akulina had carefully sewed all the holes in the hat, but it burst outin other places owing to Polikey's removing it so often. 

In the darkness he did not notice the new rents, and tried to push theenvelope further under the lining, and in doing so pushed one corner ofit through the plush. 

The sun was getting high in the heavens, and Polikey having slept butlittle the previous night and feeling its warm rays fell fast asleep, after first pressing his hat more firmly on his head. By this actionhe forced the envelope still further through the plush, and as he rodealong his head bobbed up and down. 

Polikey did not awake till he arrived near his own house, and his firstact was to put his hand to his head to learn if his hat was all right. Finding that it was in its place, he did not think it necessary toexamine it and see that the money was safe. Touching the mare gentlywith the whip she started into a trot, and as he rode along he arrangedin his own mind how much he was to receive. With the air of a manalready holding a high position at the court, he looked around him withan expression of lofty scorn on his face. 

As he neared his house he could see before him the one room whichconstituted their humble home, and the joiner's wife next door carryingher rolls of linen. He saw also the office of the court and hismistress's house, where he hoped he would be able presently to provethat he was an honest, trustworthy man. 

He reasoned with himself that any person can be abused by lying tongues, but when his mistress would see him she would say: "Well done, Polikey;you have shown that you can be honest. Here are three--it may befive--perhaps ten--rubles for you;" and also she would order tea forhim, and might treat him to vodki--who knows?

The latter thought gave him great pleasure, as he was feeling very cold. 

Speaking aloud he said: "What a happy holy-day we can have with tenrubles! Having so much money, I could pay Nikita the four rubles fiftykopecks which I owe him, and yet have some left to buy shoes for thechildren. "

When near the house Polikey began to arrange his clothes, smoothingdown his fur collar, re-tying his sash, and stroking his hair. To do thelatter he had to take off his hat, and when doing so felt in the liningfor the envelope. Quicker and quicker he ran his hand around the lining, and not finding the money used both hands, first one and then the other. But the envelope was not to be found. 

Polikey was by this time greatly distressed, and his face was white withfear as he passed his hand through the crown of his old hat. Polikeystopped the mare and began a diligent search through the wagon andits contents. Not finding the precious envelope, he felt in all hispockets--BUT THE MONEY COULD NOT BE FOUND!

Wildly clutching at his hair, he exclaimed: "Batiushka! What will I donow? What will become of me?" At the same time he realized that he wasnear his neighbors' house and could be seen by them; so he turned themare around, and, pulling his hat down securely upon his head, he rodequickly back in search of his lost treasure. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The whole day passed without any one in the village of Pokrovski havingseen anything of Polikey. During the afternoon his mistress inquiredmany times as to his whereabouts, and sent Aksiutka frequently toAkulina, who each time sent back word that Polikey had not yet returned, saying also that perhaps the merchant had kept him, or that somethinghad happened to the mare. 

His poor wife felt a heavy load upon her heart, and was scarcely able todo her housework and put everything in order for the next day (which wasto be a holy-day). The children also anxiously awaited their father'sappearance, and, though for different reasons, could hardly restraintheir impatience. The noblewoman and Akulina were concerned only inregard to Polikey himself, while the children were interested most inwhat he would bring them from the town. 

The only news received by the villagers during the day concerningPolikey was to the effect that neighboring peasants had seen him runningup and down the road and asking every one he met if he or she had foundan envelope. 

One of them had seen him also walking by the side of his tired-outhorse. "I thought, " said he, "that the man was drunk, and had not fedhis horse for two days--the animal looked so exhausted. "

Unable to sleep, and with her heart palpitating at every sound, Akulinalay awake all night vainly awaiting Polikey's return. When the cockcrowed the third time she was obliged to get up to attend to the fire. Day was just dawning and the church-bells had begun to ring. Soon allthe children were also up, but there was still no tidings of the missinghusband and father. 

In the morning the chill blasts of winter entered their humble home, andon looking out they saw that the houses, fields, and roads were thicklycovered with snow. The day was clear and cold, as if befitting theholy-day they were about to celebrate. They were able to see a longdistance from the house, but no one was in sight. 

Akulina was busy baking cakes, and had it not been for the joyous shoutsof the children she would not have known that Polikey was coming up theroad, for a few minutes later he came in with a bundle in his hand andwalked quietly to his corner. Akulina noticed that he was very pale andthat his face bore an expression of suffering--as if he would like tohave cried but could not do so. But she did not stop to study it, butexcitedly inquired: "What! Illitch, is everything all right with you?"

He slowly muttered something, but his wife could not understand what hesaid. 

"What!" she cried out, "have you been to see our mistress?"

Polikey still sat on the bed in his corner, glaring wildly about him, and smiling bitterly. He did not reply for a long time, and Akulinaagain cried:

"Eh? Illitch! Why don't you answer me? Why don't you speak?"

Finally he said: "Akulina, I delivered the money to our mistress; andoh, how she thanked me!" Then he suddenly looked about him, with ananxious, startled air, and with a sad smile on his lips. Two things inthe room seemed to engross the most of his attention: the baby in thecradle, and the rope which was attached to the ladder. Approaching thecradle, he began with his thin fingers quickly to untie the knot in therope by which the two were connected. After untying it he stood for afew moments looking silently at the baby. 

Akulina did not notice this proceeding, and with her cakes on the boardwent to place them in a corner. 

Polikey quickly hid the rope beneath his coat, and again seated himselfon the bed. 

"What is it that troubles you, Illitch?" inquired Akulina. "You are notyourself. "

"I have not slept, " he answered. 

Suddenly a dark shadow crossed the window, and a minute later the girlAksiutka quickly entered the room, exclaiming:

"The boyarinia commands you, Polikey Illitch, to come to her thismoment!"

Polikey looked first at Akulina and then at the girl. 

"This moment!" he cried. "What more is wanted?"

He spoke the last sentence so softly that Akulina became quieted inher mind, thinking that perhaps their mistress intended to reward herhusband. 

"Say that I will come immediately, " he said. 

But Polikey failed to follow the girl, and went instead to anotherplace. 

From the porch of his house there was a ladder reaching to the attic. Arriving at the foot of the ladder Polikey looked around him, and seeingno one about, he quickly ascended to the garret. 

*****

Meanwhile the girl had reached her mistress's house. 

"What does it mean that Polikey does not come?" said the noblewomanimpatiently. "Where can he be? Why does he not come at once?"

Aksiutka flew again to his house and demanded to see Polikey. 

"He went a long time ago, " answered Akulina, and looking around with anexpression of fear on her face, she added, "He may have fallen asleepsomewhere on the way. "

About this time the joiner's wife, with hair unkempt and clothesbedraggled, went up to the loft to gather the linen which she hadpreviously put there to dry. Suddenly a cry of horror was heard, andthe woman, with her eyes closed, and crazed by fear, ran down the ladderlike a cat. 

"Illitch, " she cried, "has hanged himself!"

Poor Akulina ran up the ladder before any of the people, who hadgathered from the surrounding houses, could prevent her. With a loudshriek she fell back as if dead, and would surely have been killed hadnot one of the spectators succeeded in catching her in his arms. 

Before dark the same day a peasant of the village, while returning fromthe town, found the envelope containing Polikey's money on the roadside, and soon after delivered it to the boyarinia. 

THE CANDLE. 

 "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. "--ST. MATTHEW V. 38, 39. 

It was in the time of serfdom--many years before Alexander II. 'sliberation of the sixty million serfs in 1862. In those days the peoplewere ruled by different kinds of lords. There were not a few who, remembering God, treated their slaves in a humane manner, and not asbeasts of burden, while there were others who were seldom known toperform a kind or generous action; but the most barbarous and tyrannicalof all were those former serfs who arose from the dirt and becameprinces. 

It was this latter class who made life literally a burden to thosewho were unfortunate enough to come under their rule. Many of them hadarisen from the ranks of the peasantry to become superintendents ofnoblemen's estates. 

The peasants were obliged to work for their master a certain number ofdays each week. There was plenty of land and water and the soil was richand fertile, while the meadows and forests were sufficient to supply theneeds of both the peasants and their lord. 

There was a certain nobleman who had chosen a superintendent from thepeasantry on one of his other estates. No sooner had the power to governbeen vested in this newly-made official than he began to practice themost outrageous cruelties upon the poor serfs who had been placed underhis control. Although this man had a wife and two married daughters, and was making so much money that he could have lived happily withouttransgressing in any way against either God or man, yet he was filledwith envy and jealousy and deeply sunk in sin. 

Michael Simeonovitch began his persecutions by compelling the peasantsto perform more days of service on the estate every week than the lawsobliged them to work. He established a brick-yard, in which he forcedthe men and women to do excessive labor, selling the bricks for his ownprofit. 

On one occasion the overworked serfs sent a delegation to Moscowto complain of their treatment to their lord, but they obtained nosatisfaction. When the poor peasants returned disconsolate from thenobleman their superintendent determined to have revenge for theirboldness in going above him for redress, and their life and that oftheir fellow-victims became worse than before. 

It happened that among the serfs there were some very treacherous peoplewho would falsely accuse their fellows of wrong-doing and sow seedsof discord among the peasantry, whereupon Michael would become greatlyenraged, while his poor subjects began to live in fear of their lives. When the superintendent passed through the village the people would runand hide themselves as from a wild beast. Seeing thus the terror whichhe had struck to the hearts of the moujiks, Michael's treatment of thembecame still more vindictive, so that from over-work and ill-usage thelot of the poor serfs was indeed a hard one. 

There was a time when it was possible for the peasants, when driven todespair, to devise means whereby they could rid themselves of an inhumanmonster such as Simeonovitch, and so these unfortunate people began toconsider whether something could not be done to relieve THEM of theirintolerable yoke. They would hold little meetings in secret places tobewail their misery and to confer with one another as to which wouldbe the best way to act. Now and then the boldest of the gathering wouldrise and address his companions in this strain: "How much longer canwe tolerate such a villain to rule over us? Let us make an end of it atonce, for it were better for us to perish than to suffer. It is surelynot a sin to kill such a devil in human form. "

It happened once, before the Easter holidays, that one of these meetingswas held in the woods, where Michael had sent the serfs to make aclearance for their master. At noon they assembled to eat their dinnerand to hold a consultation. "Why can't we leave now?" said one. "Verysoon we shall be reduced to nothing. Already we are almost worked todeath--there being no rest, night or day, either for us or our poorwomen. If anything should be done in a way not exactly to please him hewill find fault and perhaps flog some of us to death--as was the casewith poor Simeon, whom he killed not long ago. Only recently Anisimwas tortured in irons till he died. We certainly cannot stand this muchlonger. " "Yes, " said another, "what is the use of waiting? Let us act atonce. Michael will be here this evening, and will be certain to abuse usshamefully. Let us, then, thrust him from his horse and with one blow ofan axe give him what he deserves, and thus end our misery. We can thendig a big hole and bury him like a dog, and no one will know what becameof him. Now let us come to an agreement--to stand together as one manand not to betray one another. "

The last speaker was Vasili Minayeff, who, if possible, had more causeto complain of Michael's cruelty than any of his fellow-serfs. Thesuperintendent was in the habit of flogging him severely every week, andhe took also Vasili's wife to serve him as cook. 

Accordingly, during the evening that followed this meeting in the woodsMichael arrived on the scene on horseback. He began at once to findfault with the manner in which the work had been done, and to complainbecause some lime-trees had been cut down. 

"I told you not to cut down any lime-trees!" shouted the enragedsuperintendent. "Who did this thing? Tell me at once, or I shall flogevery one of you!"

On investigation, a peasant named Sidor was pointed out as the guiltyone, and his face was roundly slapped. Michael also severely punishedVasili, because he had not done sufficient work, after which the masterrode safely home. 

In the evening the serfs again assembled, and poor Vasili said: "Oh, what kind of people ARE we, anyway? We are only sparrows, and not men atall! We agree to stand by each other, but as soon as the time for actioncomes we all run and hide. Once a lot of sparrows conspired against ahawk, but no sooner did the bird of prey appear than they sneaked off inthe grass. Selecting one of the choicest sparrows, the hawk took it awayto eat, after which the others came out crying, 'Twee-twee!' and foundthat one was missing. 'Who is killed?' they asked. 'Vanka! Well, hedeserved it. ' You, my friends, are acting in just the same manner. WhenMichael attacked Sidor you should have stood by your promise. Why didn'tyou arise, and with one stroke put an end to him and to our misery?"

The effect of this speech was to make the peasants more firm in theirdetermination to kill their superintendent. The latter had already givenorders that they should be ready to plough during the Easter holidays, and to sow the field with oats, whereupon the serfs became strickenwith grief, and gathered in Vasili's house to hold another indignationmeeting. "If he has really forgotten God, " they said, "and shallcontinue to commit such crimes against us, it is truly necessary that weshould kill him. If not, let us perish, for it can make no difference tous now. "

This despairing programme, however, met with considerable oppositionfrom a peaceably-inclined man named Peter Mikhayeff. "Brethren, " saidhe, "you are contemplating a grievous sin. The taking of human life is avery serious matter. Of course it is easy to end the mortal existence ofa man, but what will become of the souls of those who commit the deed?If Michael continues to act toward us unjustly God will surely punishhim. But, my friends, we must have patience. "

This pacific utterance only served to intensify the anger of Vasili. Said he: "Peter is forever repeating the same old story, 'It is a sin tokill any one. ' Certainly it is sinful to murder; but we should considerthe kind of man we are dealing with. We all know it is wrong to kill agood man, but even God would take away the life of such a dog as he is. It is our duty, if we have any love for mankind, to shoot a dog thatis mad. It is a sin to let him live. If, therefore, we are to suffer atall, let it be in the interests of the people--and they will thankus for it. If we remain quiet any longer a flogging will be our onlyreward. You are talking nonsense, Mikhayeff. Why don't you think of thesin we shall be committing if we work during the Easter holidays--foryou will refuse to work then yourself?"

"Well, then, " replied Peter, "if they shall send me to plough, I willgo. But I shall not be going of my own free will, and God will knowwhose sin it is, and shall punish the offender accordingly. Yet we mustnot forget him. Brethren, I am not giving you my own views only. The lawof God is not to return evil for evil; indeed, if you try in this way tostamp out wickedness it will come upon you all the stronger. It is notdifficult for you to kill the man, but his blood will surely stain yourown soul. You may think you have killed a bad man--that you have gottenrid of evil--but you will soon find out that the seeds of still greaterwickedness have been planted within you. If you yield to misfortune itwill surely come to you. "

As Peter was not without sympathizers among the peasants, the poor serfswere consequently divided into two groups: the followers of Vasili andthose who held the views of Mikhayeff. 

On Easter Sunday no work was done. Toward the evening an elder came tothe peasants from the nobleman's court and said: "Our superintendent, Michael Simeonovitch, orders you to go to-morrow to plough the field forthe oats. " Thus the official went through the village and directed themen to prepare for work the next day--some by the river and others bythe roadway. The poor people were almost overcome with grief, manyof them shedding tears, but none dared to disobey the orders of theirmaster. 

On the morning of Easter Monday, while the church bells were calling theinhabitants to religious services, and while every one else was about toenjoy a holiday, the unfortunate serfs started for the field to plough. Michael arose rather late and took a walk about the farm. The domesticservants were through with their work and had dressed themselves for theday, while Michael's wife and their widowed daughter (who was visitingthem, as was her custom on holidays) had been to church and returned. Asteaming samovar awaited them, and they began to drink tea with Michael, who, after lighting his pipe, called the elder to him. 

"Well, " said the superintendent, "have you ordered the moujiks to ploughto-day?"

"Yes, sir, I did, " was the reply. 

"Have they all gone to the field?"

"Yes, sir; all of them. I directed them myself where to begin. "

"That is all very well. You gave the orders, but are they ploughing?Go at once and see, and you may tell them that I shall be there afterdinner. I shall expect to find one and a half acres done for everytwo ploughs, and the work must be well done; otherwise they shall beseverely punished, notwithstanding the holiday. "

"I hear, sir, and obey. "

The elder started to go, but Michael called him back. After hesitatingfor some time, as if he felt very uneasy, he said:

"By the way, listen to what those scoundrels say about me. Doubtlesssome of them will curse me, and I want you to report the exact words. Iknow what villains they are. They don't find work at all pleasant. Theywould rather lie down all day and do nothing. They would like to eat anddrink and make merry on holidays, but they forget that if the ploughingis not done it will soon be too late. So you go and listen to what issaid, and tell it to me in detail. Go at once. "

"I hear, sir, and obey. "

Turning his back and mounting his horse, the elder was soon at the fieldwhere the serfs were hard at work. 

It happened that Michael's wife, a very good-hearted woman, overheardthe conversation which her husband had just been holding with the elder. Approaching him, she said:

"My good friend, Mishinka [diminutive of Michael], I beg of you toconsider the importance and solemnity of this holy-day. Do not sin, forChrist's sake. Let the poor moujiks go home. "

Michael laughed, but made no reply to his wife's humane request. Finallyhe said to her:

"You've not been whipped for a very long time, and now you have becomebold enough to interfere in affairs that are not your own. "

"Mishinka, " she persisted, "I have had a frightful dream concerning you. You had better let the moujiks go. "

"Yes, " said he; "I perceive that you have gained so much flesh of latethat you think you would not feel the whip. Lookout!"

Rudely thrusting his hot pipe against her cheek, Michael chased his wifefrom the room, after which he ordered his dinner. After eating a heartymeal consisting of cabbage-soup, roast pig, meat-cake, pastry withmilk, jelly, sweet cakes, and vodki, he called his woman cook to him andordered her to be seated and sing songs, Simeonovitch accompanying heron the guitar. 

While the superintendent was thus enjoying himself to the fullestsatisfaction in the musical society of his cook the elder returned, and, making a low bow to his superior, proceeded to give the desiredinformation concerning the serfs. 

"Well, " asked Michael, "did they plough?"

"Yes, " replied the elder; "they have accomplished about half the field. "

"Is there no fault to be found?"

"Not that I could discover. The work seems to be well done. They areevidently afraid of you. "

"How is the soil?"

"Very good. It appears to be quite soft. "

"Well, " said Simeonovitch, after a pause, "what did they say about me?Cursed me, I suppose?"

As the elder hesitated somewhat, Michael commanded him to speak and tellhim the whole truth. "Tell me all, " said he; "I want to know their exactwords. If you tell me the truth I shall reward you; but if you concealanything from me you will be punished. See here, Catherine, pour out aglass of vodki to give him courage!"

After drinking to the health of his superior, the elder said to himself:"It is not my fault if they do not praise him. I shall tell him thetruth. " Then turning suddenly to the superintendent he said:

"They complain, Michael Simeonovitch! They complain bitterly. "

"But what did they say?" demanded Michael. "Tell me!"

"Well, one thing they said was, 'He does not believe in God. '"

Michael laughed. "Who said that?" he asked. 

"It seemed to be their unanimous opinion. 'He has been overcome by theEvil One, ' they said. "

"Very good, " laughed the superintendent; "but tell me what each of themsaid. What did Vasili say?"

The elder did not wish to betray his people, but he had a certain grudgeagainst Vasili, and he said:

"He cursed you more than did any of the others. "

"But what did he say?"

"It is awful to repeat it, sir. Vasili said, 'He shall die like a dog, having no chance to repent!'"

"Oh, the villain!" exclaimed Michael. "He would kill me if he were notafraid. All right, Vasili; we shall have an accounting with you. AndTishka--he called me a dog, I suppose?"

"Well, " said the elder, "they all spoke of you in anything butcomplimentary terms; but it is mean in me to repeat what they said. "

"Mean or not you must tell me, I say!"

"Some of them declared that your back should be broken. "

Simeonovitch appeared to enjoy this immensely, for he laughed outright. "We shall see whose back will be the first to be broken, " said he. "Wasthat Tishka's opinion? While I did not suppose they would say anythinggood about me, I did not expect such curses and threats. And PeterMikhayeff--was that fool cursing me too?"

"No; he did not curse you at all. He appeared to be the only silent oneamong them. Mikhayeff is a very wise moujik, and he surprises me verymuch. At his actions all the other peasants seemed amazed. "

"What did he do?"

"He did something remarkable. He was diligently ploughing, and as Iapproached him I heard some one singing very sweetly. Looking betweenthe ploughshares, I observed a bright object shining. "

"Well, what was it? Hurry up!"

"It was a small, five-kopeck wax candle, burning brightly, and the windwas unable to blow it out. Peter, wearing a new shirt, sang beautifulhymns as he ploughed, and no matter how he handled the implement thecandle continued to burn. In my presence he fixed the plough, shakingit violently, but the bright little object between the colters remainedundisturbed. "

"And what did Mikhayeff say?"

"He said nothing--except when, on seeing me, he gave me the holy-daysalutation, after which he went on his way singing and ploughing asbefore. I did not say anything to him, but, on approaching the othermoujiks, I found that they were laughing and making sport of theirsilent companion. 'It is a great sin to plough on Easter Monday, ' theysaid. 'You could not get absolution from your sin if you were to prayall your life. '"

"And did Mikhayeff make no reply?"

"He stood long enough to say: 'There should be peace on earth andgood-will to men, ' after which he resumed his ploughing and singing, thecandle burning even more brightly than before. "

Simeonovitch had now ceased to ridicule, and, putting aside his guitar, his head dropped on his breast and he became lost in thought. Presentlyhe ordered the elder and cook to depart, after which Michael went behinda screen and threw himself upon the bed. He was sighing and moaning, asif in great distress, when his wife came in and spoke kindly to him. Herefused to listen to her, exclaiming:

"He has conquered me, and my end is near!"

"Mishinka, " said the woman, "arise and go to the moujiks in the field. Let them go home, and everything will be all right. Heretofore you haverun far greater risks without any fear, but now you appear to be verymuch alarmed. "

"He has conquered me!" he repeated. "I am lost!"

"What do you mean?" demanded his wife, angrily. "If you will go anddo as I tell you there will be no danger. Come, Mishinka, " she added, tenderly; "I shall have the saddle-horse brought for you at once. "

When the horse arrived the woman persuaded her husband to mount theanimal, and to fulfil her request concerning the serfs. When he reachedthe village a woman opened the gate for him to enter, and as he did sothe inhabitants, seeing the brutal superintendent whom everybody feared, ran to hide themselves in their houses, gardens, and other secludedplaces. 

At length Michael reached the other gate, which he found closed also, and, being unable to open it himself while seated on his horse, hecalled loudly for assistance. As no one responded to his shouts hedismounted and opened the gate, but as he was about to remount, and hadone foot in the stirrup, the horse became frightened at some pigs andsprang suddenly to one side. The superintendent fell across thefence and a very sharp picket pierced his stomach, when Michael fellunconscious to the ground. 

Toward the evening, when the serfs arrived at the village gate, theirhorses refused to enter. On looking around, the peasants discoveredthe dead body of their superintendent lying face downward in a pool ofblood, where he had fallen from the fence. Peter Mikhayeff alone hadsufficient courage to dismount and approach the prostrate form, hiscompanions riding around the village and entering by way of the backyards. Peter closed the dead man's eyes, after which he put the body ina wagon and took it home. 

When the nobleman learned of the fatal accident which had befallen hissuperintendent, and of the brutal treatment which he had meted out tothose under him, he freed the serfs, exacting a small rent for the useof his land and the other agricultural opportunities. 

And thus the peasants clearly understood that the power of God ismanifested not in evil, but in goodness.