SigPhi · Leo Tolstoy

A Confession, and What I Believe

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WHAT I BELIEVE 1 irrational to live in an infected town atmosphere | when it is possible to live in pure air; or if you consider it unreasonable to teach your children first of all. and most of all, dead languages — do not do it. Only do not do what is done now by the whole of our European world, namely, live a life you consider unreasonable; act while considering your actions unreasonable; disbe- I lieve in your reason, and live in discord with it.

Christ's teaching is light. The light shines and the darkness comprehendeth it not. One cannot refuse to accept the light when it shines. One cannot dispute with it; it is impossible to dispute with it. With Christ's teaching one I cannot dispute, because it envelops all the errors in which people live, and does not collide with them, but, like the ether about which the physicists talk, it permeates them all. The teaching of Christ is equally unavoidable for every one in our world, whatever his circum- j stances may be. Christ's teaching cannot but || be accepted by men, not because it is impossible j to deny the metaphysical explanation of life j it gives (it is possible to deny it), but because it alone supplies those rules of life without which humanity has not lived, and cannot live, and without which no man has lived or can live if he wishes to live as a man — that is to say, to live a reasonable life.

The strength of Christ's teaching lies not in its explanation of the meaning of life, but in what flows therefrom — the teaching of life, j Christ's metaphysical teaching is not new. It j is still the same teaching of humanity which f THE DEAD CHURCH is written in the hearts of men, and which has been taught by all the true sages of the world. But the strength of Christ's teaching lies in the application of that metaphysical teaching of life.

The metaphysical basis of the ancient teaching of the Jews and of Christ is one and the same: love of God and of one's neighbour. But for the application of that teaching of life according to Moses, as the Jews understood it, the ful- filment of 613 commandments was necessary, many of them senseless and cruel, and all resting on the authority of the Scriptures. According to Christ's law, the teaching of life which flows from that same metaphysical basis is expressed in five commandments, which are reasonable, beneficent, carry in themselves their meaning and justification, and embrace the whole life of man.

Christ's teaching cannot but be accepted by those believing Jews, Buddhists, Mohammedans, and others who have begun to doubt the validity of their own law. Still less can it be rejected by those of our Christian world who now lack any moral law whatever.

Christ's teaching does not dispute with the men of our world about their conception of the world; it agrees with it in advance, and, including this in itself, gives them what they lack, what is indispensable to them, and what they are searching for; it gives them a way of life, and one not novel to them, but long familiar and akin to all.

You are a believing Christian, of whatever WHAT I BELIEVE sect or confession. You believe in the creation of the world, in the Trinity, in the fall and redemption of man, in the sacrament s, in prayers, and in the Church. Christ's teaching not only does not argue with you, but fully agrees j with your outlook on the world; it only gives I a you what you have not got. Retaining your i | present belief, you feel that the life of the world,: and your own life, is filled with evil, and you do not know how to avoid it. Christ's teaching (obligatory for you, because it is the teaching of your God) gives you simple, practicable rules of life, which will free you and other people from the evil that torments you. Believe in the resurrection, in heaven and hell, in the Church, in sacraments, in the redemption, and pray as your faith demands, fast, and sing psalms — all this does not prevent you from fulfilling what Christ has revealed to be necessary for j your welfare; do not be angry; do not commit adultery; do not bind yourself by oaths; do i not defend yourself by violence; and do not go to war.

Perhaps you will fail to keep some one of these rules and will be tempted to infringe one of them, as now in moments of temptation | you infringe the rules of your faith, the rules of the civil law, or the laws of politeness. Similarly in moments of temptation you may j perhaps infringe the laws of Christ; but in your quiet moments do not do what you do now — do not arrange your life so that it should j be difficult not to be angry, not to commit j adultery, not to take oaths, not to defend i THE DEAD CHURCH yourself, and not to fight; but in such a way that it should be hard to do these things. You cannot but acknowledge this, for God commands it of you.

You are an unbelieving philosopher, no matter of what denomination. You say every- thing comes about in the world according to a law you have discovered. Christ's teaching does not dispute with you, and fully admits the law you have discovered. But then, besides that law of yours by which thousands of years hence that welfare will come to pass which you desire and have prepared for mankind, there is also your own life, which you can live either in accord with reason or in contradiction to reason; and for that same life of yours you have now no rules, except those which are written by men you do not respect and are put in execution by the police. Christ’s teaching gives you rules that will certainly accord with your law, for your law of altruism or the common will, is nothing else than a paraphrase of Christ’s teaching.

You are an average man, half a believer, half a sceptic, who has no time to immerse himself in the meaning of human life, and you have no definite outlook on life; you do what everybody else does. Christ’s teaching does not dispute with you. It says: ‘ Very well, you are unable to argue and to verify the truths of the doctrine taught you; it is easier for you to act as everybody else does. But, however modest you may be, you yet are conscious in yourself of that inward judge, who sometimes WHAT I BELIEVE approves your action that accords with every- \ jin body’s, and sometimes does not approve of it. Lmi However humble your lot may be, it yet occurs \ 'fo to you to ponder, and to ask yourself: Shall life do this thing as they all do it, or in my own way? And just in these cases — that is to say, ijL just when you have occasion to decide that question — the laws of Christ will present them- | selves to you in all their strength. And they will certainly furnish a reply to your question for they embrace the whole of your life, and they will reply in accord with your reason and your conscience. If you are nearer to belief than to unbelief, then, acting in this way, you | will be acting in accord with the will of God.

If you are nearer to free-thought, then, acting in this way, you will act in accord with the most reasonable rules that exist in the world, of which you can convince yourself, for Christ’s rules bear in themselves their own reason and justification. j Christ said (John xii. 31): 4 Now is the judge - j ment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out.’

He also said (John xvi. 33): ‘ These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye may have peace. In the world ye have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.'

And really the world — that is, the evil of the world, is conquered.

If there still exists a world of evil, it only exists inertly; it no longer possesses the roots of life. It does not exist for one who believes in the laws of Christ. It has been conquered THE DEAD CHURCH in the reasonable consciousness of the son of man. The runaway train still moves forward, but all the rational work on it has long since been directed the contrary way.

‘ For whatsoever is begotten of God over- cometh the world: and this is the victory that hath overcome the world, even our faith 9 (1 Epistle of John v. 4).

The faith that overcomes the world is faith in the teaching of Christ.

CHAPTER XII I tii WHAT IS FAITH?

' I believe Christ’s teaching; and this is what I believe.

I believe that my welfare in the world will only be possible when all men fulfil Christ’s teaching.

I believe that the fulfilment of that teaching is possible, easy, and joyful.

I believe that before that teaching is uni- i versally followed, even were I alone in fulfilling it, there is still nothing for me to do to save my life from inevitable ruin but to fulfil that teaching; just as there is no alternative way of escape from a burning house for a man who has found the door leading to safety.

I believe that the life I lived in accord with the world’s teaching was tormenting, and that only life in accord with Christ’s teaching gives I me in this world the welfare the Father of life | intended for me.

I believe that this teaching confers blessedness I on all humanity, saves me from inevitable j destruction, and gives me here the greatest i possible welfare. Therefore I cannot but | accept it. ijj ‘ The law was given by Moses; grace and » WHAT IS FAITH?

truth came by Jesus Christ ’ (John i. 17). Christ’s teaching is welfare and truth. For- merly, not knowing the truth, I did not know welfare. Mistaking evil for good, I fell into evil, and doubted the rightness of my strivings after goodness. Now I have understood and believed that the goodness towards which I strove is the will of the Father, and is the most legitimate essence of my life.

Christ has said to me: Live for goodness, but do not trust those snares (ovcai/SaAoes) which, tempting you with a simulacrum of what is good, deprive you of goodness, and trap you into evil. Your welfare lies in your unity with all men; evil is the infringement of that unity of the son of man. Do not deprive yourself of that welfare which is given you.

Christ has shown me that the unity of the son of man, the love of men among themselves, is not, as it formerly seemed to me, an aim towards which people should strive, but that this unity, this love of men among one another, is their natural condition, in which children are born according to Christ’s words, and in which all men live until this condition is infringed by fraud, error, or temptation.

But Christ not only showed me that; he clearly, beyond possibility of error, enumerated for me, in his commandments, all the tempta- tions which had deprived me of that natural condition of unity, love, and blessedness and had drawn me into evil. The commands of Christ give me the means of salvation from the WHAT I BELIEVE in temptations which have deprived me of my welfare, and therefore I cannot but believe in those commandments.

I was given the blessing of life, and I myself ruined it. Christ, by his commandments, showed me the temptations through which ruin my happiness, and therefore I cannot continue to do what ruins it. In that, and in that alone, is my whole belief..

Christ showed me that the first temptation which destroys the good of life is enmity, anger against other men. I cannot but believe this, and therefore can no longer deliberately bear ill-will to others; I cannot, as I used to do formerly, take pleasure in my anger, be proud of it, inflame it, and justify it by con- sidering myself important and wise and other people insignificant, lost, and senseless, I can now no longer, at the first indication that I am giving way to anger, fail to acknowledge that I alone am guilty, and to seek reconciliation with those who strive against me.

But that is not enough. If I now know that my anger is an unnatural condition, harmful for me, I also know what temptation brings me to it. That temptation consists in the fact that I have separated myself from other people, considering only some of them to be my equals, and all the rest to be mere ciphers, not real men (raca) or stupid and uneducated (irrational). I now see that this separation of myself from others, and this estimation of others as raca and senseless, was the chief cause of my enmity against men. Remembering my former life, Int alt WHAT IS FAITH?

I now see that I never allowed my hostile feeling to flame up against those I considered to be my superiors, and never insulted them; but that the smallest action that was unpleasant to me from a man I considered beneath me provoked my anger, and caused me to insult him, and the more I thought myself above such a man the more ready was I to insult him; sometimes even my imagination of the inferiority of a man’s position caused me to insult him. Now I remember that that man alone is superior to others who humbles himself before others and is the servant of all. I now understand why that which is exalted among men is an abomination before God, and why woe befalls the rich and famous, and the poor and humble are blessed.

Only now do I understand this and believe it, and this belief has changed my whole appreciation of what is good and lofty, and what is bad and mean in life. All that formerly appeared to me good and lofty— honours, fame, education, riches, the complexity and refinement of life and of its surroundings, food, dress, and outward manners — all this has become for me bad and mean; while peasant life, obscurity, poverty, roughness, simplicity of surroundings, food, dress, and manners, has all become for me good and noble. And therefore if now, knowing all this, I still, in moments of forgetfulness, yield to anger and insult my brother-man, yet, when I am calm, I can no longer yield to that temptation which, placing me above my fellows, deprives WHAT I BELIEVE WHAT I BELIEVE me of my true welfare, unity and love: just! as a man cannot reset for himself a trap into | which he has formerly fallen, and which nearly destroyed him. Now I cannot participate in ) anything that would outwardly place me above others, separating me from them; I cannot, as formerly, recognize, either for myself or for others, any titles, ranks, or distinctions, f beyond claiming to be a man; I cannot seek j for fame or praise; I cannot seek such know- ledge as would separate me from others, and cannot but seek to free myself from my wealth which separated me from others, and I cannot, in my life and its surroundings, in food, clothing and external manners, fail to seek for all that will not divide me from, but unite me with, the majority of men.

Christ has shown me that another snare ruining my welfare is lustfulness — that is to say, desire for another woman and not for her with whom I have united. I cannot but believe this, and therefore cannot, as I used to, consider I adulterous lust a natural and noble quality in a man. X cannot justify it to myself by my love of beauty, by being enamoured, or by defects in my wife. I cannot but, at the first intimation that I am yielding to adulterous desire, recognize that I am in an unhealthy and unnatural state, | or fail to seek for all the means which can free i me from that evil.

But, knowing now that adulterous lust harms me, I also know the temptation which formerly j led me into it, and therefore I cannot serve it; ij I now know that the chief cause of temptation i WHAT IS FAITH?

is not that people cannot refrain from fornica- tion, but that most men and women have been deserted by those with whom they first came together. I now know that every desertion of a man or woman by him or her with whom they first had connection is that very divorce which Christ forbids; because the husbands and wives abandoned by their first mates cause all the depravity in the world. Remembering what it was that led me into lechery, I now see that, besides the barbarous education by which the lust of fornication in me was physically and mentally inflamed, and was excused by all sorts of subtleties, the chief snare that entangled me arose from my having abandoned the first woman with whom I had connection, and the condition of women who had been abandoned and who surrounded me. I now see that the chief strength of the temptation was not in my lust, but in the fact that my lust, and that of the women who had been deserted and who surrounded me, was unsatisfied. I now under- stand the words of Christ: God at first created man, male and female, so that the two were one, and therefore man may not and should not divide that which God hath joined. I now ' understand that monogamy is the natural law of humanity, which must not be infringed. I I now fully understand the saying that whoso divorceth his wife (i.e. the woman with whom I he has first come together) for another, causes j her to become dissolute, and brings fresh evil into the world to his own detriment. I believe f this, and that belief alters my whole former WHAT I BELIEVE evaluation of what is good and lofty and what c. is bad and mean in life. What formerly seemed to me the best — a refined, elegant life, with: eo passionate and poetic love, extolled by all the ip* poets and artists — all this has come to appear to me bad and repulsive. On the contrary, what seems to me good is a laborious, frugal,; rough life which moderates the lusts. High and pc important seems to me, not so much the human institution of marriage, affixing the external ini seal of legality on a certain union of a man and woman, as the union itself of any man and so woman, which, once it has been accomplished, cannot be infringed without infringing the will of God. If I may, even now, in a moment of forgetfulness, yield to adulterous desire, I can at any rate no longer, knowing the temptation which led me into that evil, serve it as I did for- merly. I cannot desire and seek for physical idleness and a life of repletion, which inflamed in me excessive desire; I cannot seek those amusements which inflame amatory lust — j novels, verses, music, theatres, and balls, which formerly seemed to me not merely harmless but very noble amusements. I cannot leave my wife, knowing that leaving her is the first snare for me, for her, and for others; I cannot take part in the idle life of repletion led by others, I cannot take part in or promote those lustful! amusements, novels,1 theatres, operas, balls, 1 This book appeared when de Vogue was writing his work Le roman Russe, and not having before him Tolstoy’s subsequent pronouncements on Art, nor of course the stories, novels, and plays Tolstoy was yet to produce, he made too much of these few words, WHAT IS FAITH?

etc. — which serve as a snare for me and for others. I cannot encourage unmarried life for people who are ripe for marriage; I cannot be a party to the separation of husbands and wives; I cannot make distinctions between unions called marriages and those not so called; I cannot but consider holy and obligatory only the first marital union which a man has formed.

Christ has shown me that a third temptation ruining my welfare is the temptation of the oath. I cannot but believe this, and therefore cannot now, as I did formerly, myself take an oath to any one, or about anything, and I cannot now, as I did formerly, justify myself for taking an oath by saying that it does no one any harm, that everybody does it, that it is necessary for the State, or that it will be worse for me and for others if I refuse this demand. I now know that it is an evil for me and for others, and I cannot do it.

But not only do I know this, I now also know the temptation which led me into that evil, and I cannot serve it. I know that the deception consists in this, that people promise in advance to obey what some man, or some men, order; whereas man must never obey any one but God. I now know that the most terrible evils in the world, by their results, are murder in war, imprisonments, executions, and tortures, which land by jais comments misled a whole string of French, English, and American critics, who, since then, instead of reading Tolstoy for themselves, have put forth what profess to be original criticisms, but are really Ire-hashes of what de Vogue had said, and represent Tolstoy as having ‘abandoned art.’

WHAT I BELIEVE lej are performed, thanks only to this temptation whereby responsibility is lifted from those who commit the evil. Remembering many and! many evils which made me blame and dislike people, I now see that they were all caused by the oath — the acknowledgement of an obligation; to submit oneself to the will of others. I now understand the meaning of the words: What ever is more than a simple assertion or denial, ‘Yes' or ‘No/ all that is beyond that, every promise given in advance,1 is evil. Under- cai standing that, I believe that the oath ruins my welfare and that of others; and this belief changes my valuation of what is good and evil, lofty and mean. All that formerly seemed to be good and lofty, the duty of loyalty to the Government confirmed by an oath of allegiance, the extortion of such oaths from others, and all actions contrary to conscience, performed under the influence of such oaths — all this now appears to me both bad and mean. And therefore I cannot now any longer depart from Christ's comeui eui 1 Her© again Tolstoy introduces an extension of the teaching, which may be a logical deduction but which was certainly not stated by Christ. Tolstoy, as usual, aims at the absolute right, ignoring the com- plexity of life, and the fact tha,t, when seeking the best of the paths open to us, we often have to weigh pros and cons. To give no promise in advance would have the advantage that one would be free from day to day to change one’s mind as to one’s work; but it would seriously hinder one’s taking part in any large undertaking requiring forethought and the assured co-operations of many people for a considerable period. Yet such undertakings are often greatly needed, and may be of great service to one’s fellow men.

St WHAT IS FAITH?

* mand, which forbids the oath. I cannot any longer swear to any one, or compel others to swear, or take part in making other people either themselves swear or compel others to swear, and I cannot look upon the oath as either valuable or necessary, or even innocuous, as many suppose it to be.

Christ has shown me that a fourth temptation depriving me of welfare is resistance to evil by means of violence applied to other people. I cannot but believe that this is an evil to me and to others, and therefore I cannot consciously employ it, and cannot, as I used to, justify this evil on the ground that it is necessary for my defence and for that of others 1; nor can I now, 1 Tolstoy overlooks the fact that there may be reasons for using physical force, other than a desire to protect the lives and property of oneself or of one’s fellow-countrymen. To refer once again to the American War of 1861-4: the questions at issue were not at all those Tolstoy gives as the causes of the use of violence. At the root of the matter then lay the question whether the Government of the United States should not merely acquiesce in the holding of some millions of negroes in a state of slavery, but also in such a manipulation of political power by the Slave States as would ultimately give them control of the machinery of Government in the United States, 'and lead to an enlargement of the area of slave terri- tory and to the permanence of that peculiar institu- tion. That war was fought on a question of right and wrong; and Lincoln held, as I hold, that when a supreme issue of that kind presents itself a man has no right to say, 4 I will use such mental powers as I possess to help the right to prevail, but will stop short of using my physical powers to that end,’ for this is eventually to assert that the body is more important i[than the mind or soul.

WHAT I BELIEVE WHAT I BELIEVE at the first reminder that I am committing vio- lence, do other than refrain from it and stop it.

But not only do I know this, I now also know the snare which led me into this evil. I now know that that temptation consists in the de- lusion that my life can be secured by defending myself and my property from other people.