CHAPTER XVI

RELIGION AND POLITICS

Tolstoy never renounced his art. A great artist cannot, even if he

would, abandon the reason of his existence. He can, for religious

reasons, cease to publish, but he cannot cease to write. Tolstoy

never interrupted his work of artistic creation. M. Paul Boyer, who

saw him, during the last few years, at Yasnaya Polyana, says that he

would now give prominence to his evangelistic works, now to his works

of imagination; he would work at the one as a relaxation from the

other. When he had finished some social pamphlet, some _Appeal to the

Rulers_ or _to the Ruled,_ he would allow himself to resume one of the

charming tales which he was, so to speak, in process of recounting to

himself; such as his _Hadji-Mourad,_ a military epic, which celebrated

an episode of the wars of the Caucasus and the resistance of the

mountaineers under Schamyl.[1] Art was still his relaxation, his

pleasure; but he would have thought it a piece of vanity to make a

parade of it. With the exception of his _Cycle of Readings for Every

Day of the Year_ (1904-5),[2] in which he collected the thoughts of

various writers upon _Life and the Truth_--a true anthology of the

poetical wisdom of the world, from the Holy Books of the East to the

works of contemporary writers--nearly all his literary works of art,

properly so called, which have been written later than 1900 have

remained in manuscript.[3]

On the other hand he was boldly and ardently casting his mystical and

polemical writings upon the social battlefield. From 1900 to 1910

such work absorbed the greater part of his time and energy. Russia

was passing through an alarming crisis; for a moment the empire of

the Tsars seemed to totter on its foundations and about to fall in

ruin. The Russo-Japanese war, the disasters which followed it, the

revolutionary troubles, the mutinies in the army and the fleet, the

massacres, the agrarian disorders, seemed to mark "the end of a

world," to quote the title of one of Tolstoy's writings. The height of

the crisis was reached in 1904 and 1905. During these years Tolstoy

published a remarkable series of works: _War and Revolution, The Great

Crime, The End of a World._ During the last ten years of his life

he occupied a situation unique not only in Russia but in the world.

He was alone, a stranger to all the parties, to all countries, and

rejected by his Church, which had excommunicated him.[4] The logic of

his reason and the revolutionary character of his faith had "led him

to this dilemma; to live a stranger to other men, or a stranger to the

truth." He recalls the Russian proverb: "An old man who lies is a rich

man who steals," and he severs himself from mankind in order to speak

the truth. He tells the whole truth, and to all. The old hunter of lies

continues, unweariedly, to mark down all superstitions, religious or

social, and all fetishes. The only exceptions are the old maleficent

powers--the persecutrix, the Church, and the imperial autocracy.

Perhaps his enmity towards them was in some degree appeased now that

all were casting stones at them. They were familiar; therefore they

were already not so formidable! After all, too, the Church and the

Tsar were carrying on their peculiar trades; they were at least not

deceptive. Tolstoy, in his letter to the Tsar Nikolas II.,[5] although

he speaks the truth in a manner entirely unaccommodating to the man as

sovereign, is full of gentleness for the sovereign as man; addressing

him as "dear brother," praying him to "pardon him if he has hurt him

unintentionally," and signing himself, "Your brother who wishes you

true happiness."

What Tolstoy can least find it in him to pardon--what he denounces with

the utmost hatred--are the new lies; not the old ones, which are no

longer able to deceive; not despotism, but the illusion of liberty. It

is difficult to say which he hates the more among the followers of the

newer idols: whether the Socialists or the "Liberals."

He had a long-standing antipathy for the Liberals. It had seized upon

him suddenly when, as an officer fresh from Sebastopol, he found

himself in the society of the literary men of St. Petersburg. It had

been one of the causes of his misunderstanding with Tourgenev. The

arrogant noble, the man of ancient race, could not support these

"intellectuals," with their profession of making the nation happy,

whether by its will or against it, by forcing their Utopian schemes

upon it. Very much a Russian, and of the old stamp,[6] he instinctively

distrusted all liberal innovations, and the constitutional ideas which

came from the West; and his two journeys abroad only intensified his

prejudices. On his return from his first journey he wrote:

"To avoid the ambition of Liberalism."

On his return from the second:

"A privileged society has no right whatsoever to educate in its own way

the masses of which it knows nothing."

In _Anna Karenin_ he freely expresses his contempt for Liberals in

general. Levine refuses to associate himself with the work of the

provincial institutions for educating the people, and the innovations

which are the order of the day. The picture of the elections to the

provincial assembly exposes the fool's bargain by which the country

changes its ancient Conservative administration for a Liberal

_régime_--nothing is really altered, except that there is one lie the

more, while the masters are of inferior blood.

"We are not worth very much perhaps," says the representative of the

aristocracy, "but none the less we have lasted a thousand years."

Tolstoy fulminates against the manner in which the Liberals abuse the

words, "The People: The Will of the People." What do they know of the

people? Who are the People?

But it is more especially when the Liberal movement seemed on the

point of succeeding and achieving the convocation of, the first

Duma that Tolstoy expressed most violently his disapprobation of its

constitutional ideas.

"During the last few years the deformation of Christianity has given

rise to a new species of fraud, which has rooted our peoples yet more

firmly in their servility. With the help of a complicated system of

parliamentary elections it was suggested to them that by electing their

representatives directly they were participating in the government,

and that in obeying them they were obeying their own will: in short,

that they were free. This is a piece of imposture. The people cannot

express its will, even with the aid of universal suffrage--1, because

no such collective will of a nation of many millions of inhabitants

could exist; 2, because even if it existed the majority of voices would

not be its expression. Without insisting on the fact that those elected

would legislate and administrate not for the general good but in order

to maintain themselves in power--without counting on the fact of the

popular corruption due to pressure and electoral corruption--this fraud

is particularly harmful because of the presumptuous slavery into which

all those who submit to it fall.... These free men recall the prisoners

who imagine that they are enjoying freedom when they have the right

to elect those of their gaolers who are entrusted with the interior

policing of the prison.... A member of a despotic State may be entirely

free, even in the midst of the most brutal violence. But a member of a

constitutional State is always a slave, for he recognises the legality

of the violence done him.... And now men wish to lead the Russian

people into the same state of constitutional slavery in which the other

European peoples dwell!"[7]

In his hostility towards Liberalism contempt was his dominant feeling.

In respect of Socialism his dominant feeling was--or rather would have

been--hatred, if Tolstoy had not forbidden himself to hate anything

whatever. He detested it doubly, because Socialism was the amalgamation

of two lies: the lie of liberty and the lie of science. Does it not

profess to be founded upon some sort of economic science, whose laws

absolutely rule the progress of the world?

Tolstoy is very hard upon science. He has pages full of terrible irony

concerning this modern superstition and "these futile problems: the

origin of species, spectrum analysis, the nature of radium, the theory

of numbers, animal fossils and other nonsense, to which people attach

as much importance to-day as they attributed in the Middle Ages to

the Immaculate Conception or the Duality of Substance." He derides

these "servants of science, who, just as the servants of the Church,

persuade themselves and others that they are saving humanity; who,

like the Church, believe in their own infallibility, never agree among

themselves, divide themselves into sects, and, like the Church, are

the chief cause of unmannerliness, moral ignorance, and the long delay

of humanity in freeing itself from the evils under which it suffers;

for they have rejected the only thing that could unite humanity:

the religious conscience."[8] But his anxiety redoubles, and his

indignation bursts its bounds, when he sees the dangerous weapon of the

new fanaticism in the hands of those who profess to be regenerating

humanity. Every revolutionist saddens him when he resorts to violence.

But the intellectual and theoretical revolutionary inspires him with

horror: he is a pedantic murderer, an arrogant, sterile intelligence,

who loves not men but ideas.[9]

Moreover, these ideas are of a low order.

"The object of Socialism is the satisfaction of the lowest needs of

man: his material well-being. And it cannot attain even this end by the

means it recommends."[10]

At heart, he is without love. He feels only hatred for the oppressors

and "a black envy for the assured and easy life of the rich: a greed

like that of the flies that gather about ordure."[11] When Socialism

is victorious the aspect of the world will be terrible. The European

horde will rush upon the weak and barbarous peoples with redoubled

force, and will enslave them, in order that the ancient proletariats of

Europe may debauch themselves at their leisure by idle luxury, as did

the people of Rome.[12]

Happily the principal energies of Socialism spend themselves in

smoke--in speeches, like those of M. Jaurès.

"What an admirable orator! There is something of everything in his

speeches--and there is nothing.... Socialism is a little like our

Russian orthodoxy: you press it, you push it into its last trenches,

you think you have got it fast, and suddenly it turns round and tells

you: 'No, I'm not the one you think, I'm somebody else.' And it slips

out of your hands.... Patience! Let time do its work. There will be

socialistic theories, as there are women's fashions, which soon pass

from the drawing-room to the servants' hall."[13]

Although Tolstoy waged war in this manner upon the Liberals and

Socialists, it was not--far from it--to leave the field free for

autocracy; on the contrary, it was that the battle might be fought in

all its fierceness between the old world and the new, after the army

of disorderly and dangerous elements had been eliminated. For Tolstoy

too was a believer in the Revolution. But his Revolution was of a very

different colour to that of the revolutionaries; it was rather that of

a believer of the Middle Ages, who looked on the morrow, perhaps that

very day, for the reign of the Holy Spirit.

"I believe that at this very hour the great revolution is beginning

which has been preparing for two thousand years in the Christian

world--the revolution which will substitute for corrupted Christianity

and the system of domination which proceeds therefrom the true

Christianity, the basis of equality between men and of the true liberty

to which all beings endowed with reason aspire."[14]

What time does he choose, this seer and prophet, for his announcement

of the new era of love and happiness? The darkest hour of Russian

history; the hour of disaster and of shame! Superb power of creative

faith! All around it is light--even in darkness. Tolstoy saw in death

the signs of renewal; in the calamities of the war in Manchuria, in

the downfall of the Russian armies, in the frightful anarchy and the

bloody struggle of the classes. His logic--the logic of a dream!--drew

from the victory of Japan the astonishing conclusion that Russia

should withdraw from all warfare, because the non-Christian peoples

will always have the advantage in warfare over the Christian peoples

"who have passed through the phase of servile submission." Does this

mean the abdication of the Russian people? No; this is pride at its

supremest. Russia should withdraw from all warfare because she must

accomplish "the great revolution."

"The Revolution of 1905, which will set men free from brutal

oppression, must commence in Russia. It is beginning."

Why must Russia play the part of the chosen people? Because the

new Revolution must before all repair the "Great Crime," the great

monopolisation of the soil for the profit of a few thousands of

wealthy men and the slavery of millions of men--the cruellest of

enslavements;[15] and because no people was so conscious of this

iniquity as the Russian people.[16]

Again, and more especially, because the Russian people is of all

peoples most thoroughly steeped in the true Christianity, so that

the coming revolution should realise, in the name of Christ, the

law of union and of love. Now this law of love cannot be fulfilled

unless it is based upon the law of non-resistance to evil.[17] This

non-resistance (let us mark this well, we who have the misfortune

to see in it simply an Utopian fad peculiar to Tolstoy and to a few

dreamers) has always been an essential trait of the Russian people.

"The Russian people has always assumed, with regard to power, an

attitude entirely strange to the other peoples of Europe. It has never

entered upon a conflict with power; it has never participated in it,

and consequently has never been depraved by it. It has regarded power

as an evil which must be avoided. An ancient legend represents the

Russians as appealing to the Varingians to come and govern them. The

majority of the Russians have always preferred to submit to acts of

violence rather than respond with violence or participate therein. They

have therefore always submitted.

"A voluntary submission, having nothing in common with servile

obedience.[18]

"The true Christian may submit, indeed it is impossible for him not to

submit without a struggle to no matter what violence; but he could not

obey it--that is, he could not recognise it as legitimate."[19]

At the time of writing these lines Tolstoy was still subject to the

emotion caused by one of the most tragical examples of this heroic

nonresistance of a people--the bloody manifestation of January 22nd in

St. Petersburg, when an unarmed crowd, led by Father Gapon, allowed

itself to be shot down without a cry of hatred or a gesture of

self-defence.

For a long time the Old Believers, known in Russia as the _Sectators_,

had been obstinately practising, in spite of persecution, non-obedience

to the State, and had refused to recognise the legitimacy of its

power.[20] The absurdity of the Russo-Japanese war enabled this state

of mind to spread without difficulty through the rural districts.

Refusals of military service became more and more general; and the

more brutally they were punished the more stubborn the revolt grew

in secret. In the provinces, moreover, whole races who knew nothing

of Tolstoy had given the example of an absolute and passive refusal

to obey the State--the Doukhobors of the Caucasus as early as 1898

and the Georgians of the Gouri towards 1905. Tolstoy influenced these

movements far less than they influenced him; and the interest of his

writings lies in the fact that in spite of the criticisms of those

writers who were of the party of revolution, as was Gorky,[21] he was

the mouthpiece of the Old Russian people.

The attitude which he preserved, in respect of men who at the peril

of their lives were putting into practice the principles which he

professed,[22] was one of extreme modesty and dignity. Neither to

the Doukhobors and the Gourians nor to the refractory soldiers did he

assume the pose of a master or teacher.

"He who suffers no trials can teach nothing to him who does so suffer."

He implores "the forgiveness of all those whom his words and his

writings may have caused to suffer."[23]

He never urges any one to refuse military service. It is a matter for

every man to decide for himself. If he discusses the matter with any

one who is hesitating, "he always advises him not to refuse obedience

so long as it would not be morally impossible." For if a man hesitates

it is because he is not ripe; and "it is better to have one soldier

the more than a renegade or hypocrite, which is what becomes of those

who undertake a task beyond their strength."[24] He distrusts the

resolution of the refractory Gontcharenko. He fears "that this young

man may have been carried away by vanity and vainglory, not by the love

of God."[25] To the Doukhobors he writes that they should not persist

in their refusal of obedience out of pride, but "if they are capable of

so doing, they should save their weaker women and their children. No

one will blame them for that." They must persist "only if the spirit

of Christ is indeed within them, because then they will be happy to

suffer."[26] In any case he prays those who are persecuted "at any cost

not to break their affectionate relations with those who persecute

them."[27] One must love even Herod, as he says in a letter to a

friend: "You say, 'One cannot love Herod.'--I do not know, but I feel,

and you also, that one must love him. I know, and you also, that if I

do not love him I suffer, that there is no life in me."[28]

The Divine purity, the unvarying ardour of this love, which in the end

can no longer be contented even by the words of the Gospel: "Love thy

neighbour as thyself," because he finds in them a taint of egoism![29]

Too vast a love in the opinion of some; and so free from human egoism

that it wastes itself in the void. Yet who more than Tolstoy distrusts

"abstract love"?

"The greatest modern sin: the abstract love of humanity, impersonal

love for those who are--somewhere, out of sight.... To love those

we do not know, those whom we shall never meet, is so easy a thing!

There is no need to sacrifice anything; and at the same time we are so

pleased with ourselves! The conscience is fooled.--No. We must love our

neighbours--those we live with, and who are in our way and embarrass

us."[30]

I have read in most of the studies of Tolstoy's work that his faith

and philosophy are not original. It is true; the beauty of these ideas

is eternal and can never appear a momentary fashion. Others complain

of their Utopian character. This also is true; they are Utopian, the

New Testament is Utopian. A prophet is a Utopian; he treads the earth

but sees the life of eternity; and that this apparition should have

been granted to us, that we should have seen among us the last of the

prophets, that the greatest of our artists should wear this aureole

on his brow--there, it seems to me, is a fact more novel and of far

greater importance to the world than one religion the more, or a new

philosophy. Those are blind who do not perceive the miracle of this

great mind, the incarnation of fraternal love in the midst of a people

and a century stained with the blood of hatred!

[1] _Le Temps_, November 2, 1902.

[2] Tolstoy regarded this as one of his most important works. "One of

my books--_For Every Day_--to which I have the conceit to attach a

great importance...." (Letter to Jan Styka, July 27 August 9, 1909).

[3] These works should shortly appear, under the supervision of

Countess Alexandra, Tolstoy's daughter. The list of them has been

published in various journals. We may mention _Hadji-Mourad, Father

Sergius,_ the psychology of a monk; _She Had Every Virtue,_ the study

of a woman; the _Diary of a Madman,_ the _Diary of a Mother,_ the

_Story of a Doukhobor,_ the _Story of a Hive,_ the _Posthumous Journal

of Theodore Kouzmitch, Aliocha Govchkoff, Tikhon and Melanie, After the

Ball, The Moon shines in the Dark, A Young Tsar, What I saw in a Dream,

Who is the Murderer?_ (containing social ideas), _Modern Socialism,_ a

comedy; _The Learned Woman, Childish Wisdom,_ sketches of children who

converse upon moral subjects; _The Living Corpse,_ a drama in seventeen

tableaux; _It is all her Fault,_ a peasant comedy in two acts, directed

against alcohol (apparently Tolstoy's last literary work, as he wrote

it in May-June, 1910), and a number of social studies. It is announced

that they will form two octavo volumes of six hundred pages each.

But the essential work as yet unpublished is Tolstoy's _Journal,_ which

covers forty years of his life, and will fill, so it is said, no less

than thirty volumes.

[4] The excommunication of Tolstoy by the Holy Synod was declared on

February 22, 1901. The excuse was a chapter of _Resurrection_ relating

to Mass and the Eucharist. This chapter has unhappily been suppressed

in the French edition.

[5] On the nationalisation of the soil. _(The Great Crime,_ 1905.)

[6] "A 'Great-Russian,' touched with Finnish blood." (M.

Leroy-Beaulieu.)

[7] _The End of a World_ (1905-6). See the telegram addressed by

Tolstoy to an American journal: "The agitation in the Zemstvos has as

its object the limitation of despotic power and the establishment of a

representative government. Whether or no they succeed the result will

be a postponement of any true social improvement. Political agitation,

while producing the unfortunate illusion of such improvement by

external means, arrests true progress, as may be proved by the example

of all the constitutional States--France, England, America, &c."

(Preface to the French translation of _The Great Crime_, 1905.)

In a long and interesting letter to a lady who asked him to join

a _Committee for the Propagation of Reading and Writing among the

People_, Tolstoy expressed yet other objections to the Liberals: they

have always played the part of dupes; they act as the accomplices of

the autocracy through fear; their participation in the government

gives the latter a moral prestige, and accustoms them to compromises,

which quickly make them the instruments of power. Alexander II.

used to say that all the Liberals were ready to sell themselves for

honours if not for money; Alexander III. was able, without danger,

to eradicate the liberal work of his father. "The Liberals whispered

among themselves that this did not please them; but they continued to

attend the tribunals, to serve the State and the press; in the press

they alluded to those things to which allusion was allowed, and were

silent upon matters to which allusion was prohibited." They did the

same under Nikolas II. "When this young man, who knows nothing and

understands nothing, replies tactlessly and with effrontery to the

representatives of the people, do the Liberals protest? By no means ...

From every side they send the young Tsar their cowardly and flattering

congratulations." (_Further Letters._)

[8] _War and Revolution._

In _Resurrection,_ at the hearing of Maslova's appeal, in the Senate,

it is a materialistic Darwinist who is most strongly opposed to the

revision, because he is secretly shocked that Nekhludov should wish,

as a matter of duty, to marry a prostitute; any manifestation of duty,

and still more, of religious feeling, having the effect upon him of a

personal insult.

[9] As a type, take Novodvorov, the revolutionary leader in

_Resurrection,_ whose excessive vanity and egoism have sterilised a

fine intelligence. No imagination; "a total absence of the moral and

æsthetic qualities which produce doubt."

Following his footsteps like a shadow is Markel, the artisan who has

become a revolutionist through humiliation and the desire for revenge;

a passionate worshipper of science, which he cannot comprehend; a

fanatical anticlerical and an ascetic.

In _Three More Dead_ or _The Divine and the Human_ we shall find a few

specimens of the new generation of revolutionaries: Romane and his

friends, who despise the old Terrorists, and profess to attain their

ends scientifically, by transforming an agricultural into an industrial

people.

[10] Letters to the Japanese Izo-Abe, 1904. (_Further Letters_).

[11] Conversations, reported by Teneromo (published in

_Revolutionaries,_ 1906).

[12] Conversations, reported by Teneromo (published in

_Revolutionaries,_ 1906).

[13] Conversation with M. Paul Boyer. (_Le Temps_, November 4, 1902.)

[14] _The End of a World_.

[15] "The cruellest enslavement is to be deprived of the earth, for the

slave of a master is the slave of only one; but the man deprived of the

land is the slave of all the world." (_The Great Crime_)

[16] Russia was actually in a somewhat special situation; and although

Tolstoy may have been wrong to found his generalisations concerning

other European States upon the condition of Russia, we cannot be

surprised that he was most sensible to the sufferings which touched

him most nearly. See, in _The Great Crime,_ his conversations on the

road to Toula with the peasants, who were all in want of bread because

they lacked land, and who were all secretly waiting for the land to

be restored to them. The agricultural population of Russia forms 80

per cent, of the nation. A hundred million of men, says Tolstoy, are

dying of hunger because of the seizure of the soil by the landed

proprietors. When people speak to them of remedying their evils through

the agency of the Press, or by the separation of Church and State, or

by nationalist representation, or even by the eight-hours day, they

impudently mock at them:

"Those who are apparently looking everywhere for the means of bettering

the condition of the masses of the people remind one of what one sees

in the theatre, when all the spectators have an excellent view of an

actor who is supposed to be concealed, while his fellow-players, who

also have a full view of him, pretend not to see him, and endeavour to

distract one another's attention from him."

There is no remedy but that of returning the soil to the labouring

people. As a solution of the property question, Tolstoy recommends the

doctrine of Henry George and his suggested single tax upon the value

of the soil. This is his economic gospel; he returns to it unwearied,

and has assimilated it so thoroughly that in his writings he often uses

entire phrases of George's.

[17] "The law of non-resistance to evil is the keystone of the whole

building. To admit the law of mutual help while misunderstanding the

precept of non-resistance is to build the vault without sealing the

central portion." (_The End of a World._)

[18] In a letter written in 1900 to a friend (_Further Letters_)

Tolstoy complains of the false interpretation given to his doctrine

of non-resistance. "People," he says, "confound _Do not oppose evil

by evil_ with _Do not oppose evil_: that is to say, _Be indifferent

to evil._ ..." "Whereas the conflict with evil is the sole object of

Christianity, and the commandment of non-resistance to evil is given as

the most effectual means of conflict."

[19] _The End of a World._

[20] Tolstoy has drawn two types of these "Sectators," one in

_Resurrection_ (towards the end) and one in _Three More Dead._

[21] After Tolstoy's condemnation of the upheaval in the Zemstvos,

Gorky, making himself the interpreter of the displeasure of his

friends, wrote as follows: "This man has become the slave of his

theory. For a long time he has isolated himself from the life of

Russia, and he no longer listens to the voice of the people. He hovers

over Russia at too great a height."

[22] It was a bitter trial to him that he could not contrive to be

persecuted. He had a thirst for martyrdom; but the Government very

wisely took good care not to satisfy him.

"They are persecuting my friends all around me, and leaving me in

peace, although if any one is dangerous it is I. Evidently I am not

worth persecution, and I am ashamed of the fact." (Letter to Teneromo,

1892, _Further Letters.)_

"Evidently I am not worthy of persecution, and I shall have to die like

this, without having ever been able to testify to the truth by physical

suffering." (To Teneromo, May 16,1892, _ibid._)

"It hurts me to be at liberty." (To Teneromo, June i, 1894, _ibid._)

That he was at liberty was, Heaven knows, no fault of his! He insults

the Tsars, he attacks the fatherland, "that ghastly fetish to which men

sacrifice their life and liberty and reason." (_The End of a World._)

Then see, in _War and Revolution,_ the summary of Russian history. It

is a gallery of monsters: "The maniac Ivan the Terrible, the drunkard

Peter I., the ignorant cook, Catherine I., the sensual and profligate

Elizabeth, the degenerate Paul, the parricide Alexander I. [the only

one of them for whom Tolstoy felt a secret liking], the cruel and

ignorant Nikolas I.; Alexander II., unintelligent and evil rather than

good; Alexander III., an undeniable sot, brutal and ignorant; Nikolas

II., an innocent young officer of hussars, with an _entourage_ of

coxcombs, a young man who knows nothing and understands nothing."

[23] Letter to Gontcharenko, a "refractory," January 17, 1903.

(_Further Letters._)

[24] Letter to a friend, 1900. (_Correspondence_.)

[25] To Gontcharenko, February 2, 1903 (_ibid._).

[26] To the Doukhobors of the Caucasus, 1898 (_ibid._).

[27] To Gontcharenko, January 17, 1903 (_ibid._).

[28] To a friend, November, 1901. (_Correspondence_).

[29] "It is like a crack in a pneumatic machine; all the vapour of

egoism that we wish to drain from the human soul re-enters by it." He

ingeniously strives to prove that the original text has been wrongly

read; that the exact wording of the Second Commandment was in fact

"Love thy neighbour as _Himself_ (as God)." (_Conversations with

Teneromo._)

[30] _Conversations with Teneromo._

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