Into Kirillov’s half-mad brain enters the idea of sacrifice: “I will

begin and open the door and save--mankind.”

If it is necessary that Kirillov be abnormal in order to entertain such

ideas--ideas moreover which Dostoevsky does not unreservedly sanction

since they betoken insubordination--there is none the less a particle

of truth in his conception, and if it is necessary that Kirillov be

abnormal in order to entertain such ideas, it is that we also may have

them in our day, yet be in our right mind.

“‘So at last you understand!’ cried Kirillov rapturously. ‘So it can

be understood if even a fellow like you understands. Do you understand

now that salvation for all consists in proving this idea to every one?

Who will prove it? I! I can’t understand how an atheist could know that

there is no God and not kill himself on the spot. To recognize that

there is no God, and not to recognize at the same instant that one is

God oneself is an absurdity, else one would certainly kill oneself. If

you recognize it, you are sovereign, and then you won’t kill yourself,

but live in the greatest glory. But one, the first, must kill himself,

for else who will begin and prove it? So I must certainly kill myself,

to begin and prove it. Now I am only a God against my will, and I am

unhappy, because I am bound to assert my will. All are unhappy because

all are afraid to express their will. Man has hitherto been so unhappy

and so poor because he has been afraid to assert his will up to the

highest point, and has shown his self-will only in little things, like

a schoolboy.... But I will assert my will, I am bound to believe that

I don’t believe. I will begin and will make an end of it and open

the door, and save--mankind. For three years I’ve been seeking the

attribute of my Godhead and I’ve found it; the attribute of my Godhead

is self-will. That’s all I can do to prove in the highest point my

independence and my new terrible freedom. For it is very terrible,

and I am killing myself to prove my independence and my new terrible

freedom.’”[131]

Blasphemous as Kirillov’s words may appear, rest assured that

Dostoevsky, in drawing his figure, was possessed by the idea of Christ,

by the necessity of the Crucifixion as a sacrifice to redeem mankind.

If Christ had to be offered up, was it not that we, Christians, might

be such without dying His death? “_If Thou be Christ, save Thyself!_”

If Christ had saved Himself, mankind would have been lost: to save it,

He surrendered His own life.

These few lines of Dostoevsky’s, taken from his _Essay on the

Bourgeoisie_, throw fresh light on Kirillov’s figure.

“Be clear as to my meaning! Voluntary sacrifice, offered consciously

and without constraint, the sacrifice of the individual for the good

of mankind, is to my mind the mark of personality in its noblest and

highest development, of perfect self-control--the absolute expression

of free will. To offer one’s life for others, to suffer for others on

the cross or at the stake, is possible only when there is a powerful

development of the personality. A strongly-developed personality,

conscious of its right to be such, having cast out fear, cannot use

itself, cannot be used except in sacrifice for others, that these

become like unto itself, self-determinate and happy. It is Nature’s

law, and mankind tends to reach it.”[132]

At last you see why behind Kirillov’s talk, which seemed at first

hearing somewhat incoherent, we succeed in discerning what was the

philosophy of Dostoevsky himself.

I am conscious how far I am from having exhausted the teaching that

can be found in his books. I insist once more on the fact that I have

sought, consciously or unconsciously, what had most intimate connection

with my own ideas. Others no doubt will be able to discern different

things. And now that I am come to the end of my last paper, you are

awaiting, I am sure, a conclusion of some kind from me. Whither does

Dostoevsky lead us? What precisely is his teaching?

Some will say that he leads us straight to Bolshevism, although they

know the horror Dostoevsky professed for anarchy. The whole of _The

Possessed_ prophesies the revolution of which Russia is at present

in the throes. But every man who, in defiance of existing systems,

contributes new _tables of values_ is bound to seem, in the eyes of the

conservative, an anarchist. Conservative and nationalist, deigning to

see no more than what is chaotic in Dostoevsky, conclude he can be of

no service whatsoever to us. To which my reply is that their opposition

seems to do great hurt to the genius of France. By our unwillingness

to accept anything foreign unless it reflects our system and logic,

our whole likeness, in short, we err most grievously. His conception

of beauty happens to differ from our Mediterranean standards, and were

the divergence even greater, of what use would our national genius be,

how could we apply our logic practically, unless in instances which

clamour for regulation? In meditating none but her own likeness, the

reflection of her past, France is exposed to a mortal danger. Let me

explain my meaning as accurately and temperately as possible. It is

well that France should have conservative elements reacting and taking

a stand against what savours of foreign invasion. But what justifies

the existence of these elements if not this fresh contribution without

which French culture would ere long be nothing but a hollow form, a

hardened shell? What do they know of France’s genius? What _do_ we

know, except its past? It is the same with national feeling as with

the Church. I mean the conservative elements often mete out to genius

the same treatment as the Church to her saints at times. Many who were

rejected, repulsed, denied in the name of tradition, are become its

very corner-stones.

My opinion of intellectual protectionism I have often voiced: I believe

it presents a great peril; on the other hand, any essay in intellectual

denationalization involves a risk no less considerable. I am merely

expressing what was Dostoevsky’s finding likewise. There never was an

author more Russian in the strictest sense of the word and withal so

universally European. Because it is essentially Russian, his humanity

is all-embracing and touches each one of us personally.

“Veteran European Russian” he chose to describe himself. I shall let

Versilov of _A Raw Youth_ develop Dostoevsky’s idea this time!

“The highest Russian thought is the reconciliation of ideas, and who

in the whole world could understand such a thought at that time? I was

a solitary wanderer: I am not speaking of myself personally--it’s the

Russian idea I’m speaking of. There all was strife and logic; there

the Frenchman was nothing but a Frenchman, the German nothing but a

German, and this more intensely so than at any time in their history.

Consequently never had the Frenchman done so much harm to France, or

the German to Germany, as just at that time! In these days in all

Europe there was not one European! I alone of all the vitriol-throwers

could have told them to their face that their Tuileries was a mistake.

And I alone among the avenging reactionists could have told them that

the Tuileries, although a crime, was none the less logical. And that,

my boy, was because I, as a Russian, was the only European in Russia. I

am not talking of the whole Russian idea....

“Europe has created a noble type of Frenchman, of Englishman, and of

German, but of the man of the future she scarcely knows at present.

And, I fancy, so far she does not want to know. And that one can well

imagine; they are not free, and we are free. I, with my Russian

melancholy, was the only one free in Europe.... Take note, my dear,

of a strange fact: every Frenchman can serve not only his France,

but humanity, only on condition that he remains French to the utmost

possible degree, and it’s the same for the Englishman and the German.

Only to the Russian, even in our day, has been vouchsafed the capacity

to become most of all Russian only when he is most European, and this

is true even in our day, that is, long before the millennium has been

reached.”[133]

But, to offset this declaration and show how acutely conscious

Dostoevsky was of the danger to any country in too marked

europeanization, I must read you this remarkable passage from _The

Possessed_:

“‘Science and reason have, from the beginning of time, played a

secondary and subordinate part in the life of nations; so it will be

till the end of time. Nations are built up and moved by another force

which sways and dominates them, the origin of which is unknown and

inexplicable; that force is the force of an insatiable desire to go on

to the end, though at the same time it denies that end. It is the force

of persistent assertion of one’s own existence, and a denial of death.

It’s the spirit of life, as the Scriptures call it, the river of living

water, the drying up of which is threatened in the Apocalypse. It’s the

æsthetic principle, as the philosophers call it, the ethical principle

with which they identify it, “the seeking for God,” as I call it more

simply. The object of every national movement, in every people and at

every period of its existence, is only the seeking for its God, who

must be its own God, and the faith in Him as the only true one. God is

the synthetic personality of the whole people, taken from its beginning

to its end. It has never happened that all, or even many, peoples have

had one common god, but each has always had its own. It’s a sign of the

decay of nations when they begin to have gods in common. When gods are

common to several nations the gods are dying and the faith in them,

together with the nations themselves. The stronger a people, the more

individual their God. There never has been a nation without a religion,

that is, without an idea of good and evil. Every people has its own

conception of good and evil, and its own good and evil. When the same

conception of good and evil become prevalent in several nations, then

these nations are dying, and then the very distinction between good

and evil is beginning to disappear.[134]... These are your own words,

Stavrogin.... I haven’t altered anything of your ideas, or even of your

words, not a syllable.’

“‘I don’t agree that you’ve not altered anything,’ Stavrogin observed

cautiously. ‘You accepted them with ardour, and in your ardour have

transformed them unconsciously. The very fact that you reduce God to a

simple attribute of nationality....’

“He suddenly began watching Shatov with intense and peculiar attention,

not so much his words as himself.

“‘I reduce God to an attribute of nationality?’ cried Shatov. ‘On the

contrary, I raise the people to God. And has it ever been otherwise?

The people is the body of God. Every people is only a people so long as

it has its own God and excludes all other gods on earth irreconcilably,

so long as it believes that by its God it will conquer and drive out of

the world all other gods. Such, from the beginning of time, has been

the belief of all great nations, all, anyway, who have been specially

remarkable, all who have been leaders of humanity. There is no going

against facts. The Jews lived only to await the coming of the true

God and left the world the true God. The Greeks deified nature and

bequeathed the world their religion, that is, philosophy and art.

Rome deified the people in the State, and bequeathed the idea of the

State to the nations. France throughout her long history was only the

incarnation and development of the Roman God....

“‘If a great people does not believe that the truth is only to be

found in itself (in itself alone and in it exclusively), if it does

not believe that it alone is fit and destined to raise up and save all

the rest by its truth, it would at once sink into being ethnographical

material, and not a great people. A really great people can never

accept a secondary part in the history of humanity, nor even one of the

first, but will have the first. A nation which loses this belief ceases

to be a nation.’”[135]

And by the way of corollary, we have Stavrogin’s reflection which might

be a fitting conclusion: “An individual out of touch with his country

has lost God.”

What would Dostoevsky think of Russia to-day and of her people? It is

a painful speculation.... Did he apprehend, was he able to foresee her

ghastly torments?

In _The Possessed_ we find all the seeds of Bolshevism. You need only

listen to Shigalev’s exposition of his theory and the admission he

makes at its close:

“I am perplexed by my own data and my conclusion is a direct

contradiction to the original idea with which I start. Starting from

unlimited freedom, I arrive at unlimited despotism.”[136] And that

loathsome Pyotr Stepanovitch Verhovensky exults: “There’s going to be

such an upset as the world has never seen before.... Russia will be

overwhelmed with darkness, the earth will weep for its old gods.”[137]

Imprudent, dishonest even, I admit, to impute to the author himself

the thoughts expressed by the characters in his novels or tales. But

we know this was Dostoevsky’s medium of expression, often utilizing

a colourless individual to formulate one of his cherished truths. We

seem to hear him speak from the lips of a secondary character in _The

Eternal Husband_ when the “malady of the age” is mentioned.

“To be a good citizen is better than being in aristocratic society. I

say that because in Russia, nowadays, one doesn’t know whom to respect.

You’ll agree that it’s a serious malady of the age, when people don’t

know whom to respect, isn’t it?”[138]

I am sure that beyond the darkness enveloping tortured Russia to-day

Dostoevsky would still see the light of hope. Perhaps too he would

think (the idea appears several times in his novels and in his letters)

that Russia is offering herself in sacrifice like Kirillov, and for the

salvation, perhaps, of the rest of Europe, and of humanity.

FOOTNOTES

[31] _House of the Dead_, p. 240.

[32] Bienstock, p. 449. Letter to Mlle. Guérassimov, Petersburg, March

7, 1877.

[33] Bienstock, p. 94. Letter to his brother Michael, spring of 1847.

[34] Bienstock, p. 98. Letter to his brother Michael, from the

fortress, July 18, 1849.

[35] Bienstock, p. 100. Letter to his brother Michael, from the

fortress, August 27, 1849.

[36] Bienstock, p. 101. Letter to his brother Michael, from the

fortress, September 14, 1849.

[37] Bienstock, p. 103. Letter to his brother Michael, from the

fortress, December 22, 1849.

[38] A. P. Miliukov in his _Reminiscences_, 1881.

[39] See Mayne, pp. 51 sqq.

[40] The _Decembrists_.

[41] Mayne, pp. 51-65.

[42] Bienstock, pp. 104-105. Letter to his brother Michael,

Semipalatinsk, July 30, 1854.

[43] Bienstock, p. 106. Letter to his brother Andrey, Semipalatinsk,

November 6, 1854.

[44] Bienstock, p. 107. Letter to his brother Andrey, Semipalatinsk,

November 6, 1854.

[45] Bienstock, pp. 233-235. Letter to Baron Alexander Wrangel,

Petersburg, March 31, 1865.

[46] Bienstock, p. 239. Letter to Baron Alexander Wrangel, Petersburg,

April 14, 1865.

[47] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 492.

[48] _The Idiot_, pp. 217-220.

[49] See _Nouvelle Revue Française_, June-July, 1922, and _Stavrogin’s

Confession_, translated, with introductory and explanatory notes, by

_S. S. Koteliansky_ and _Virginia Woolf_, 1922. (_Translator’s note._)

[50] _The Possessed_, p. 172.

[51] _The Possessed_, p. 175.

[52] _The Possessed_, p. 175.

[53] _A Raw Youth_, p. 327.

[54] _Notes from Underground_, pp. 86-87.

[55] _Notes from Underground_, pp. 88-89.

[56] “However adventurous the Russian genius,” wrote Boris de

Schloezer in the _Nouvelle Revue Française_, February, 1922, “it

characteristically chooses a firm foundation in concrete fact and

living reality: this basis once assured, it launches out into

speculation of the most abstract and daring nature, returning in the

end, rich with the gathered spoils of thought, to the fact and reality

from which it started and in which it is perfected.”

[57] E.g. Lebedyev in _The Idiot_. See Appendix (2), the admirable

chapter describing Lebedyev’s enjoyment in torturing General Ivolgin.

[58] _The Possessed_, p. 495.

[59] _A Raw Youth_, p. 507.

[60] _The Possessed_, pp. 489-490.

[61] _A Raw Youth_, p. 215.

[62] See the _Journal_.

[63] Garnett, Vol. XI.

[64] Garnett, Vol. X.

[65] Bienstock and Nau, pp. 99-100.

[66] Bienstock and Nau, pp. 176-181.

[67] Bienstock and Nau, pp. 294 et seq., 450-452.

[68] Nietzsche, _The Twilight of the Idols_, translated by Anthony M.

Ludovici, 1911, p. 104.

[69] Nietzsche, _The Twilight of the Idols_, translated by Anthony M.

Ludovici, 1911, pp. 64-65.

[70] Bienstock, p. 367. Letter to N. N. Strakhov, Dresden, March 24,

1870.

[71] Bienstock, p. 374. Letter to A. N. Maïkov, Dresden, March 25, 1870.

[72] _Nouvelle Revue Française_, February, 1922, pp. 176-177.

[73] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 369.

[74] _A Raw Youth_, pp. 205-206.

[75] _A Raw Youth_, p. 503. Compare this other passage (_ibid._, p.

548) dealing with one of these pathological cases I mentioned a little

space ago. “Versilov can have had no definite aim, and I believe,

indeed, he did not reflect on the matter at all, but acted under the

influence of a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But the theory of

actual madness I cannot accept, especially as he is not in the least

mad now. But the ‘second self’ I do accept unquestionably. What is a

second self exactly? The second self, according to a medical book,

written by an expert, which I purposely read afterwards, is nothing

else than the first stage of serious mental derangement, which may lead

to something very bad.”

[76] _The Possessed_, p. 635.

[77] _Journaux Intimes_, p. 57.

[78] André Gide, _Morceaux Choisis_, pp. 102-103.

[79] _The Idiot_, pp. 587-588.

[80] _The Idiot_, p. 519.

[81] _A Raw Youth_, p. 253.

[82] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 492.

[83] _The Idiot_, p. 616.

[84] Bienstock, pp. 319-320.

[85] Bienstock, p. 343. Letter to A. N. Maïkov, Dresden, October 27,

1869.

[86] _The Eternal Husband_, p. 2.

[87] _The Eternal Husband_, pp. 35-36.

[88] _The Eternal Husband_, p. 75.

[89] _Vauvenargues_, Maxim xxxix; _Œuvres_, p. 377.

[90] _The Eternal Husband_, pp. 65-66.

[91] _The Eternal Husband_, pp. 116-117.

[92] _The Eternal Husband_, pp. 117-118.

[93] _The Eternal Husband_, p. 124.

[94] _The Eternal Husband_, pp. 124-126.

[95] Schopenhauer, _The World as Will and Idea_, translated by Haldane

and Kemp; Bk. IV, p. 457.

[96] _A Raw Youth_, p. 68.

[97] _A Raw Youth_, p. 130.

[98] _The Idiot_, p. 225.

[99] _The Possessed_, p. 219.

[100] _The Possessed_, pp. 220, 221.

[101] _The Possessed_, p. 580.

[102] _Crime and Punishment_, pp. 236, 237.

[103] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 238.

[104] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 377.

[105] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 378.

[106] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 467.

[107] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 272.

[108] _The Possessed_, pp. 492, 493.

[109] _The Possessed_, pp. 498, 499.

[110] Mayne, p. 198. Letter to N. N. Strakhov, Dresden, October 9, 1870.

[111] _The Possessed_, pp. 634, 635.

[112] _Crime and Punishment_, p. 14.

[113] _The Brothers Karamazov_, p. 110.

[114] _The Possessed_, p. 219.

[115] _The Possessed_, p. 220.

[116] _The Possessed_, p. 221.

[117] _The Possessed_, p. 221.

[118] _The Possessed_, p. 133.

[119] _The Idiot_, p. 225.

[120] _The Possessed_, p. 219.

[121] _The Possessed_, pp. 554-5.

[122] _The Possessed_, p. 555.

[123] André Gide, _Morceaux Choisis_, p. 101, §1.

[124] Dr. Binet-Sanglé is the author of a blasphemous work to which he

has given the title _La Folie de Jésus-Christ_: he attempts to deny the

importance of Christ and of Christianity by showing that Christ was mad

and a degenerate.

[125] _The Possessed_, p. 577.

[126] _The Possessed_, pp. 383, 385.

[127] _The Possessed_, p. 540.

[128] _The Possessed_, p. 275.

[129] _The Possessed_, pp. 579, 580.

[130] _The Possessed_, p. 580.

[131] _The Possessed_, pp. 582, 583.

[132] Bienstock, pp. 540-2.

[133] _A Raw Youth_, pp. 462-4.

[134] Reclus, _Geography_, XIV, 931. “The island populations of Oceania

are fast dying out, for they have lost the body of ideas which governed

their actions, and lack a common measure to judge good and evil.”

[135] _The Possessed_, pp. 232-234.

[136] _The Possessed_, p. 376.

[137] _The Possessed_, p. 395.

[138] _The Eternal Husband_, p. 128.

APPENDIX

I

“And now I will tell two anecdotes to wind up my account of the

‘_idea_,’ that it may not hinder my story again.

Dostoevsky · 第 11 / 12 段