1. I have stated in the last lecture that Tolstoy is the preacher, not
of the new gospel of death, but of the old gospel of life. Tolstoy is to
be revered as one of the greatest teachers among men, not so much
because he has proved indisputably that only by love alone can men be
said truly to live, nor wholly because he shows by logic inexorable that
man can be truly blessed only when he devotes his life to the service of
his fellow-men. His logic may be bad, his proof may be faulty. To be
skilled in the art of lighting with words is no more essential to a
noble soul than to be skilled in the art of fighting with lists. Both
can indeed knock down an opponent; but knocking down is not the business
of life, but raising up. And Tolstoy is to be revered among teachers
because he first of all raises up; because he preaches what those who
have raised men up have for ages preached; because he preaches what
Christ has preached, what Emerson has preached, what Carlyle has
preached, what Ruskin is still preaching, and what will ever continue to
be preached as long as there is a God in heaven, and a human soul on
earth yearning for the possession of that God. "Socialism, Communism!"
men bellow to Tolstoy, and think to confound him with the hateful name.
"Would you have us give up," they say, "the fruit of civilization and
progress, and return to the primitive life of the days of yore?" But
read Emerson's "Miscellanies," Carlyle's "Past and Present," Ruskin's
"Fors Clavigera," and see for yourselves whether Tolstoy preaches aught
different from these. And if this be communism, if this be socialism,
then welcome communism, welcome socialism, because ever welcome
brotherhood.
2. Tolstoy is indeed a Russian of the Russians, but he is a man before
he is a Russian; the greatest of Russians, he is more than a Russian,
just as Socrates, the greatest of the Greeks, was more than a Greek;
just as Christ, the greatest of Hebrews, was more than a Hebrew.
Socrates was sent not for Greece alone, but for us likewise; Jesus was
sent not for the Jews alone, but for us likewise; and so Tolstoy is sent
not to the Russians alone, but to us likewise.
3. Tolstoy, then, came to deliver a message; but _the_ message of
messages has already been delivered well-nigh nineteen hundred years
ago. Not one word is there, indeed, to be added to the law laid down in
the Sermon on the Mount; and were men to live out the gospel of Christ,
there would be no need of new messengers, the kingdom of heaven would
then be veritably established, and the Master would once more dwell with
men as he hath foretold. But Christianity, alas! has been on trial for
well-nigh nineteen hundred years, while the religion of Christ still
remains to be tried. There is therefore ever need of new apostles to
preach the kingdom of heaven, the gospel of Christ; and it is Tolstoy's
distinction that he came to preach not the new gospel of the nineteenth
century, but the old gospel of the first century. For God sees to it
that the way to blessedness for men be ever open; that the kingdom of
heaven be ever within their reach, if they but choose to enter it, if
they but choose not to give themselves over to the Powers of Darkness.
4. I have affirmed in my last lecture, with what articulateness of voice
the great God hath seen fit to endow me, that there is a God in heaven
who is the Good. And it now, alas! becomes my duty to affirm likewise
that beside the great God the Good in heaven, there is also the great
Devil the Evil on earth; that beside the great Prince of Light there is
also the great Prince of Darkness. And he ruleth neither over the
heavens nor over the earth, but he ruleth solely over man. And he
graspeth with the greedy, and he splitteth hairs with the lawyers; and
he is flirting with scientific charities, and is fortune-hunting with
land-grabbers; and he discourseth with politicians, and he puffeth up
with men of science; and he balances himself on ropes with theologians;
and he preacheth from pulpits through mouths that have Christ only on
their tongues; and he prayeth through lips that know God only through
hymns; and he danceth at balls, and he sparkleth through diamonds; and
he shineth through gold, and he foameth through wine; and he chatteth
insincerely at receptions, and he figureth in society-columns of the
public prints; and he shrieketh through steam-whistles, and he rusheth
sixty miles an hour, and he edits sensational magazines, and he dwelleth
with the hating; and he is ever after victims,--he, the Prince of
Darkness.
5. And the servants of the Prince of Light are few; and the servants of
the Prince of Darkness are many. Yet the Lord God is ever nigh; and he
ever sendeth his messengers to call together his wandering, his erring
flock. Tolstoy is a messenger sent out to gather together the erring
flock back to the fold of Christ.
6. Tolstoy, then, is a teacher of men. Observe, however, this
fundamental difference between Tolstoy and the other great teachers. To
Socrates, the great enemy of mankind was ignorance; to him, therefore,
to know virtue is to be virtuous, and the central idea of his teaching
is--knowledge. The seat of the soul with Socrates, therefore, is not so
much in the heart as in the head. To Epictetus, the great enemy of
mankind is passion, and the central idea of his teaching is
self-control; to Epictetus, then, the seat of the soul is not so much in
the head as in the will. To Emerson, the great enemy of mankind is
authority, and the central idea of his teaching, therefore, is
self-reliance; to Emerson, then, the seat of the soul is not so much in
man's will as in man's pride. To Carlyle, the great enemy of mankind is
consciousness of self, and the central idea of his teaching is
unconsciousness of self, the forgetting, the drowning of self in work.
To Carlyle, therefore, the seat of the soul is not so much in man's
pride as in his hands. Tolstoy has no such central idea of his own. His
central idea is that of his Master, Jesus, which is love. To Jesus, the
great enemy of man was hatred, and the seat of the soul to him was
neither in the head, nor in the will, nor in the pride, nor in the
hands. To Jesus, the seat of the soul was solely in the heart. And
Tolstoy proclaims above all the doctrine of Jesus, not because he
thinketh lightly of ignorance, not because he thinketh lightly of
passion, not because he thinketh lightly of authority, not because he
thinketh lightly of self-consciousness, but because he believes that
Love conquereth _all_ the children of Darkness. Hence the burden of his
message is the ever-recurring, Brethren, follow Christ! Follow Christ
with your heads, and your metaphysics will take care of themselves;
follow Christ with your will, and your passions will take care of
themselves; follow Christ with your hopes, and your self-respect will
take care of itself; lastly, follow Christ with your hands, and your
work will take care of itself. Tolstoy's book is therefore only the
fifth gospel of Christ, and Tolstoy himself is therefore only the
thirteenth apostle of Jesus.
7. I must emphasize this fact, my friends, because church-societies are
still discussing the propriety of admitting his book into their
libraries; I must emphasize this fact, because hitherto not one preacher
of the gospel of Christ has yet ventured to utter one word of greeting,
one word of fellowship, to Tolstoy. I must emphasize this fact, because
Tolstoy having forsaken art and having betaken himself to the cobbling
of shoes, the wise world, that ever knoweth the duty of another better
than he doth himself, is forthwith at hand with its estimate, its
disapproval, its condemnation. Turgenef therefore gently remonstrates
with his fellow-craftsman for his new departure, and beseeches him to
return to the forsaken higher field,--to the art of amusing folk already
over-amused. The Rev. Mr. Savage, the only servant of God in the pulpits
of this great God-fearing city who has even dared to make Tolstoy the
subject of a Sunday discourse, respects indeed his character, but boldly
declares the man Tolstoy and his Master Jesus of Nazareth to have been
teaching impracticable teachings; impracticable, indeed, in an age when
bank-stock and a grandfather, and foam and froth, and social fireworks
are the only acceptable signs of strength. Mr. Savage, however, follows
at least Pope's direction, and damns with faint praise, while that wee,
tiny manikin from that State of Indiana does not even think this
necessary, and therefore, standing on tiptoe, screeches at the top of
his voicelet to Tolstoy, "Crank, crank!"
8. But what if in God's eyes there be no higher work, nor lower work,
but merely work? What if in God's eyes there be no higher duty, nor
lower duty, but merely duty? If it be necessary to chop wood, and sift
ashes, and mend shoes, wherefore should this be a lower occupation than
to thump on the piano, and read poetry, and write books, and even listen
unto lectures? But the artist is held in higher esteem than the
house-drudge! What, then! shalt thou make the esteem of thy fellows,
which is as changeable as the wind, thy motive for doing, rather than
the esteem of thyself, thy conscience, thy God? To do all we ought, be
it never so humble, this is doing the highest work, God's work. But
chopping wood and mending shoes brings no recognition, no esteem, no
applause in gorgeously-lighted parlors, as does the reading and the
singing and the writing for select audiences. What, shalt thou do thy
duty for the sake of the reward, the mess of pottage it brings, O
wretch?
9. Crank, indeed! My friends, was there ever a time when the great souls
on whom we must feed, if we are to live at all, were proclaimed aught
else but cranks and nuisances? The children of Darkness are ever abroad,
and the messengers of Light are never welcome unto them. Such a nuisance
was the noblest of the Greeks to his countrymen, that they could not
wait for his peaceful departure, even though he was already on the brink
of the grave; and the old man of seventy had to drink the poison to rid
his fellow-citizens of the burden of his presence. Of the two noblest
sons of Boston, which it has yet produced in all the two hundred and
fifty years of its existence, one was dragged through its streets with a
rope round his neck, not by a mob of unkempt anarchists, but by a mob
of well-shaven, broadcloth-clad citizens,--by the ancestors, perhaps, of
the very men who now can watch the statue of that same Garrison from
their plate-glass windows on Commonwealth Avenue. And the other was
shunned as an ill-balanced intellect, and abused by those who look upon
themselves as _the_ best of his townsmen, so that a monument to Wendell
Phillips cannot even be thought of at this late day. England's noblest
living voice, the voice of John Ruskin, is at this very moment engaged
in crying unto his countrymen, "Good my friends, if ye keep on howling
at me as ye have done, I shall indeed become insane; but I assure ye, up
to this hour, maugre your vociferous clamoring, I am still in possession
of my senses, thank God!" And of America's greatest inspirer, while his
gentle spirit was still walking on earth, Jeremiah Mason, the
clear-headed man, the far-seeing judge, the practical statesman, could
only utter the joke, '_I_ don't read Emerson; my gals do!' And, O ye
good people, tell me, I pray ye, what reception would Christ himself be
likely to receive at the hands of your swallow-tailed butlers, were he
to appear at your doors without silver-headed cane, without Parisian kid
gloves, without engraved pasteboard announcing him to be the Scion of
his Majesty King David? Would not a mere glance at his bare feet, his
flowing garment, and his untrimmed hair be sufficient to convince Mr.
Butler that for such folk the lady of the house is never at home, or if
at home, is just about to dress for dinner or to go out for a drive, and
therefore begs to be excused? Yes, my friends, of the greatest, of the
noblest souls, it has ever been the lot to be scorned, since their
message of light is ever unwelcome to the children of darkness; and if
against their characters not a word can be said, recourse must be had to
the abuse at least of their intellects; and Christ and Tolstoy are
declared to be weak intellects! This is the meaning of the cry raised
against Tolstoy as unbalanced, in this latest change of his life from
riches unto poverty.
10. Tolstoy, then, is nothing but a preacher of Christ; and the first
articulate utterance in his message is therefore that of boundless
faith in the practicability of living according to Christ; that of
insistence upon the literal following of the words of Christ as a
_practical_ guide of life.
11. And out of this emphasis of the supremacy of Love comes the second
articulate utterance in the message of Tolstoy, which is the supremacy
of heart over head as a metaphysical guide of life. For God ever
revealeth himself unto men, but he speaketh unto them not through their
cold intellects, but through their warm hearts; not through logic, but
through love. The reasoner searches God without man and finds him not;
the lover finds God within man in his heart, and hath no need of
searching him. Hence the following significant utterance of Tolstoy in
his "Confession." In his search for the answer to the ever-recurring
question, "Wherefore shall I live?" he at last goes abroad to find
light:--
"My life abroad, and the intercourse with Europe's most advanced
scholars, still more confirmed my faith in perfection as such; for
the same faith I now found in them likewise. In me this faith took
the same form which it takes in most of the educated men of our
time. Its watchword was--progress. Then I thought that this word
meant something. Its utter meaninglessness I then could not yet
understand. Here I was tormented, like every living soul, with the
question, 'How can I better my life?' and I answer, 'Live in
accordance with progress.' But this is exactly the answer of a man
borne along by wind and tide in a boat. He puts the to him
all-important question, 'What direction must I steer for my safety?'
and he receives in answer, 'Oh, we are borne along somewhither!'
"All this I did not perceive at the time. Only rarely not my reason
but my feeling rebelled against this universal superstition with
which men shield themselves against their failure to comprehend the
meaning of life. Thus while in Paris the sight of capital punishment
revealed to me all the ghastliness of this superstition of progress.
When I beheld how the head was severed from the body, and how the
one and the other each in turn thumped in the box, I understood not
with my reason, but with my whole soul, that no theory of progress,
no theory of the reasonableness of our present mode of living, could
justify this one deed; that even if all men ever since creation, on
whatever theory, had found that _this_ must be, I know that this
need not be; that this is evil; that the judge of all this, what is
good and needful, is not what men say and do, is not the theory of
progress, but I with my heart."
12. Trust ye, therefore, your heart ere you trust your logic. Whatever
the heart dictates must be from God, logic or no logic; whatever the
heart rebels against must be from the Devil, reason or no reason. Time
never yet was when the Devil lacked reasons; and if he can find reasons
nowhere else, he at last finds them in science and in Scripture. Next to
the slaveholders themselves, the last to forsake the sinking ship of
slavery, were the preachers of the gospel of the brotherhood of man, who
argued finely from Scripture twisted for the purpose, that the great God
having made Mr. Preacher white and Mr. Negro black, had therefore
intended that black shall be the minion of white. Time never was when
reason and logic most inexorable could not find excuse most sufficient
for the shedding of blood of brother by brother, for the burning of
village and town, for the erecting of luxurious palace within
stone's-throw of the homeless. Time never was when logic could not show
the fine propriety, nay, the utmost necessity, for competition and
struggle for existence; when men, who might create a paradise of this
green earth of ours, if they but chose to help one another, transform
themselves into pigs, jostling and pushing one another at the trough,
and grunting with satisfaction abundant at having driven the weaker
piglet off into starvation,--all of which is our modern, _necessary_
competition in business; and this is logical, reasonable, scientific
struggle for existence!
13. No, no, my friends, let logic cry never so loudly at the necessity
of struggle for existence, and competition for bread between men, when
the great God hath provided enough for a hundredfold of the present
number of men if they but chose to help one another. The heart saith it
is wrong; and whatever logic makes it out to be right is accursed, is
from the Devil; and it is for ye, if ye are to become the children of
the Prince of Light, and not the children of the Prince of Darkness, to
have none of such logic, and trust the God within you, who dwelleth not
in your heads, but in your hearts.
14. And once more, out of this fundamental idea of the supremacy of love
and the brotherhood of _all_ men,--of all men, observe,--follows the
insistence of Tolstoy upon the words of Christ,--"Give to him that
asketh." For it is not for man to judge his neighbor, but for God. To
Tolstoy, therefore, all men are his brothers, the unworthy as well as
the worthy; or rather, he never asks whether they be worthy. To him
therefore the law of Christ stands not for utility, nor for fear of
consequence, but for mercy and trust in God. Hence Tolstoy would never
fear to help from what are branded as sentimental motives. And the third
articulate utterance in the message of Tolstoy is therefore the
supremacy in charity of the sentiment which comes from God over the
logic which comes from the Devil.
15. Relief given from sentimental motives (from mere love of helping for
its own sake) only keeps the pauper population alive, we are told by
our scientific charities. Heinous, indeed, is the awful crime of keeping
pauper population alive; and heinous, indeed, is the crime of having
_any_ sentiment of heart in an age of progress of species and
self-respecting supply and demand. Then the great God who sendeth his
sunshine and his rain upon members of Associated Charities as well as
upon members of Dissociated Charities, upon the worthy as well as upon
the unworthy, upon the properly introduced as well as upon the
improperly introduced,--then his beneficence is verily sentimental. Yes,
my friends, the great God is the great sentimentalist, for he blesseth
men and bestoweth his mercy upon them not because they are deserving,
but because he loveth to be merciful. When the flower buddeth forth in
the spring with matchless beauty, no label is tacked on to its stem with
ominous reminder: "Not to be gazed at by the eyes of the unworthy. All
worthy persons, of good moral character, can obtain tickets by applying
to Archangel Michael." When under His eternal laws the cooling spring
babbleth forth merrily from the cave, whispering to the weary, heated
wanderer, "Come thou hither, and be refreshed," no sign-board is placed
at its entrance: "Beware! this spring is only for the worthy; members of
the pauper population are warned, under penalty of law, not to trespass
on these premises." Verily, I say unto ye, the Lord God is the
sentimentalist of sentimentalists!
16. And the Son of God, like unto his Father, was also a sentimentalist.
When the sinner came unto him in her distress, he did not inquire for
her letters of introduction; he did not inquire whether she was indorsed
in most acceptable society-fashion by the leading ministers of the town.
He did not lift the skirts of his garments in scorn of the person
unworthy of _his_ company; he gave no orders to his butlers that when
Madame Sinner calls next he is not at home for her. Nay, Christ did not
even send down to the Central Office of the Associated Charities to look
up poor sinner's record. Without much parley he stretched forth his holy
hand, gave it to his pauper sister, and with a voice of love spake, "Go
thy ways in peace, thou art forgiven!" Verily, I say unto you, Christ
was a sentimentalist of sentimentalists.
17. And the father of the prodigal son was only increasing pauperism
when he received the unworthy youth with open arms; he had set a premium
(in the words of our scientific charities) upon other sons becoming
likewise prodigal.
18. And so is a sentimentalist every noble soul that believeth in God's
wisdom more than in man's wisdom; that believeth more in the power of
trust than in the power of fear; more in mercy than in calculation; more
in charity than in justice; more in love than in political economy; more
in Christ than in Octavia Hill; more in the Gospels than in
Parliamentary Poor Reports. By their fruits ye shall judge them. If the
fear of pauperism result in excusing that vilest of sins, the
withholding of help by one brother from another, then away with
scientific charity and its talked-of diminution of pauperism; and if the
lending of a helping hand even to the unworthy be the result of
sentimentalism, then welcome sentimentalism, blessed be sentimentalism!
19. The obedience to the commands of Christ has thus furnished Tolstoy
with a basis for existence which he had hitherto sought in vain from
science and metaphysics; the obedience to the commands of Christ has
thus furnished Tolstoy a solution of social problems which he had
hitherto sought in vain in ethics and sociology; and lastly, obedience
to the commands of Christ has furnished Tolstoy a solution of financial
problems found neither in political economy nor in statistics. And the
fourth articulate utterance in the message of Tolstoy is his merciless
distinction between the money of the poor, which they have earned by
their toil, and the money of the rich, which they have forfeited by
their idleness.
20. Tolstoy is thus the preacher, the cause of a change in the hearts of
men; but while he is thus a cause unto others, he himself is likewise an
effect of the change which has begun to take place in the hearts of men.
The possibility of a Tolstoy in the nineteenth century is the most
hopeful sign of the times with regard to the social brotherhood of men.
In theology, the feeling of the equality of men before God has so
permeated the minds of men, that the claim of superiority which formerly
each made over the other, though still tacitly implied, is now no longer
upheld by sober thinking folk; in politics, too, equality of men before
the law has at last become acknowledged, if not always in practice, at
least in theory. And if monarchies and aristocracies still do exist, it
is not because all concerned in the decision have deliberately decided
for them, but because it is safer to endure irrational institutions that
are old, than to undertake the sudden establishment of rational
institutions that are new. Only in the social field the feeling of the
equality of men has not yet permeated them enough to rouse their souls
against the present division of society into industrial lords on the one
hand, and industrial slaves on the other. That two men born on the same
day, at the same hour, in the same nakedness, one in a palace without
his merit, the other in a hovel without his fault, should each pass his
lifetime, the one in luxury and idleness, the other in want and toil, is
still looked upon by thinking men, by feeling men, as something that
must be, as something that should be, since Providence evidently meant
men to be thus divided. The idle thus go on enjoying their unearned
idleness; the toiling thus go on enduring their unearned hardship, and
all is quiet.
21. Quiet? Alas! no. Burglars, robbers, tramps, beggars, forgers,
defaulters in abundance, jails, prisons, reform-houses, stand out
palatially amid lawns and green woods and winding rivers. The silent
darkness is occasionally lighted up by the lurid torch of the
incendiary, and now and then we are treated to spectacular fireworks
with powder and dynamite and bomb.
22. Of course men have _preached_ reform ever since God had resolved
that however men may refuse to do his will, they shall at least not fail
to hear his voice as uttered by his messengers. But though political
freedom had been preached by every thinking soul from Plato to
Rousseau, it required an American and a French Revolution to open a path
for the entrance of their ideas into practical life. Religious freedom,
too, had been preached from the mouth of every soul that had the genuine
love for its kind in its heart. From Christ to Emerson in our world, to
say naught of the heathen world, the burden of the song of all saints
has been, "Love your neighbor as ye love yourselves." Your neighbor,
observe! Not your Baptist neighbor, nor your Methodist neighbor, nor
even your infidel neighbor, but your neighbor. Plain as this teaching
is, it still required Inquisitions, Bartholomew nights, and
Thirty-Year-Wars, to establish not even religious brotherhood, but only
religious toleration.
23. Social brotherhood, too, has been preached for ages, beginning with
John the Baptist, who in answer to the question, What are we to do? can
only say, "Whosoever hath two coats, let him give one to him that hath
none," and ending with John Ruskin, who, smarting under the unequal
distribution of wealth, founds his Company of St. George. Preached then
social brotherhood has been, as all else has been preached; but acted
out, even under the guise of hypocrisy, it has not yet been. Will this
change of heart likewise have to be brought about by blood and
slaughter?
24. Tolstoy, in the feeble way of a single man, but in the mighty way of
a single soul, giveth unmistakable answer to this question. We must
begin the revolution, says he, not without us, with others, but within
us, with ourselves; not by force of arms, but by force of love. Of what
use are alms handed out with one hand, when with the other we uphold
idleness which is the creator of the need of alms? Let each one work, he
says, as much as he can, and if he produce more than his own needs,
there will ever be enough of the unfortunate and the ailing who cannot
produce enough for their own needs. Not leisure, then, idleness, is the
haven to be steered for, but work; and work, too, not such as shall
pander to the wants of the lazy, but to the wants of the
industrious,--work, in short, which shall enable others to enjoy that
labor of the body and that rest of the soul which alone in their union
make the perfect life.
* * * * *
25. In his Introduction to "My Religion," Tolstoy says that he has at
last tasted that joy and happiness which even death could not take away.
He has thus attained true blessedness, that heavenly peace which falls
to the lot of all souls from whom love of self and pride of intellect
have forever fled. But such heaven can be attained by human soul only
through struggle,--struggle often for life and death with sin, with
doubt, with faithlessness, with despair. For the fable of Sisyphus is
not mere fable; this ever rolling back of the stone to the hill-top for
the tenth, for the hundredth, for the thousandth time, is only the
history of the soul on its journey heavenward; the gold, ere it be freed
from the dross, must be scorched, burnt, melted, dissolved; and the
soul, to be made pure in its turn, must be likewise burnt, melted,
fused. Think not, therefore, that Shakespeare, ere he wrote "To be or
not to be," had been perching on the tree and warbling right gladly all
his days. His sorrow is not indeed found in his plays, but surely it was
found in his life. Think not, therefore, that the sportive, merry,
joking Socrates was gay through all the seventy years of his life. Not
from a gay heart came those words spoken at the end of his days, "We
approach truth only in so far as we are removed from life." And lastly,
my friends, not from a gay heart flowed that gentle spirit, that
boundless love, of the possessor of whom not once, in all the four
Gospels, is recorded the fact that he ever laughed! Verily, only through
sorrow can be reached the haven of the soul, that union with God which
is free from pride of intellect and love of self. And so Tolstoy's life
too, ere he attained that heavenly peace, was filled with sorrow
immeasurable, sorrow unspeakable. For fifteen years of his life the
thought of suicide was not out of his mind for a day; he upon whom
Fortune had lavished every gift which in the opinion of the world can
alone make man happy, he who had riches, fame, friends, position,
admiration, appreciation,--this man Tolstoy has for years to hide his
gun lest he shoot himself, and his towel lest he hang himself.
Wherefore, then, such misery? Because, my friends, he was natively
endowed with a heaven-aspiring soul, between which and the doctrine of
the world there can be no peace. One must perish, or the other,--either
the doctrine of the world, or his soul. His soul, indeed, was destined
not to perish; but the devil in man dies hard, and for fifty years the
doctrine of the world held in him the upper hand.
26. Hence though the essence of Tolstoy is the preacher, he was during
these fifty years never the preacher alone; but this very struggle in
his soul between the powers of Light on the one hand and the powers of
Darkness on the other is also the reason why he never remained the
artist alone. Like the thread of Theseus in the labyrinth of Minos, the
preacher's vein is seldom, if ever, absent from Tolstoy. Hence his
"Morning of a Proprietor," written in 1852, at the age of twenty-four,
is as faithful an account of his experience as a visitor among the poor
as his "Census of Moscow," written twenty-five years later; hence his
"Lutzen," written when he was yet under thirty, is as powerful a plea
for the beggar as his "What to Do," written at the end of his career.
The final detaching of the preacher from the artist is not therefore a
sudden resolve, but the outcome of the life-long struggle of his spirit.
The detaching of the preacher from the artist took place therefore in
Tolstoy as the detaching of the nourishing kernel takes place from the
castaway shell. When he found his haven and saw that the only meaning of
life can be found solely in love of man, and in living and in toiling
for him, when the doctrine of the world, in short, was defeated by the
soul, then the severance of the preacher from the artist becomes
complete, the shell is burst, and in all its native nourishingness there
at last lies before us what is eternal of Tolstoy,--the writings, not of
the artist Tolstoy, but the writings of the preacher Tolstoy.
* * * * *
27. My hearers, my friends, I have now spoken unto ye for well-nigh six
hours. From the manner in which you have listened unto me, I judge that
ye have been entertained, perhaps even instructed. And yet I should feel
that I have spoken unto ye to but little purpose, if my words have
merely entertained, merely instructed you; for mere entertainment you
can find already in abundance elsewhere,--in the circus, in the
play-house, in the concert-room, in the magazine, in the wit of the
diner-out, and not unto me is it given to compete with these. And mere
instruction likewise you can find already in abundance elsewhere,--in
the cyclopædias, in the universities, in the libraries, in the
Browning-reader; and neither is it given wholly unto me to compete with
these. Not, therefore, to amuse, not even wholly to instruct ye, have I
come before ye these successive evenings, and asked you to lend me your
ear. But I had hoped that on parting from me, as you will this evening,
perhaps for aye, you might perhaps carry away with ye also that
earnestness of purpose, the absence of which made so barren the muse of
Pushkin; that sympathy for a soul struggling upward, the want of which
made so cheerless the life of Gogol; that faith in God, the lack of
which made so incomplete the life of Turgenef; and lastly, that faith in
the commands of Christ, the living out of which makes so inspiring the
life of Tolstoy.
28. Would to God, my friends, ye might carry away with ye all these
things besides the entertainment, besides even the instruction you may
have found here. In the days of old the great God was ready to save from
perdition a whole city of sinners if only ten righteous men could be
found within its walls; and so shall I feel amply repaid for my toil, if
of the large number who have listened unto me at least ten leave me with
the feeling that they have got from my words something more than mere
entertainment, something more than mere instruction.