the moscow census-第13节

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commended　me；　and　I　resorted　to　a　compromise。　　I　believed　what
everybody　told　me；　and　everybody　has　said；　ever　since　the　world　was
made；that　there　is　nothing　evil　in　wealth　and　luxury；　that　they　are
given　by　God；　that　one　may　continue　to　live　as　a　rich　man；　and　yet
help　the　needy。　　I　believed　this；　and　I　tried　to　do　it。　　I　wrote　an
essay；　in　which　I　summoned　all　rich　people　to　my　assistance。　　The
rich　people　all　acknowledged　themselves　morally　bound　to　agree　with
me；　but　evidently　they　either　did　not　wish　to　do　any　thing；　or　they
could　not　do　any　thing　or　give　any　thing　to　the　poor。　　I　began　to
visit　the　poor；　and　I　beheld　what　I　had　not　in　the　least　expected。
On　the　one　hand；　I　beheld　in　those　dens；　as　I　called　them；　people
whom　it　was　not　conceivable　that　I　should　help；　because　they　were
working　people；　accustomed　to　labor　and　privation；　and　therefore
standing　much　higher　and　having　a　much　firmer　foothold　in　life　than
myself；　on　the　other　hand；　I　saw　unfortunate　people　whom　I　could　not
aid　because　they　were　exactly　like　myself。　　The　majority　of　the
unfortunates　whom　I　saw　were　unhappy　only　because　they　had　lost　the
capacity；　desire；　and　habit　of　earning　their　own　bread；　that　is　to
say；　their　unhappiness　consisted　in　the　fact　that　they　were　precisely
such　persons　as　myself。

I　found　no　unfortunates　who　were　sick；　hungry；　or　cold；　to　whom　I
could　render　immediate　assistance；　with　the　solitary　exception　of
hungry　Agafya。　　And　I　became　convinced；　that；　on　account　of　my
remoteness　from　the　lives　of　those　people　whom　I　desired　to　help；　it
would　be　almost　impossible　to　find　any　such　unfortunates；　because　all
actual　wants　had　already　been　supplied　by　the　very　people　among　whom
these　unfortunates　live；　and；　most　of　all；　I　was　convinced　that　money
cannot　effect　any　change　in　the　life　led　by　these　unhappy　people。

I　was　convinced　of　all　this；　but　out　of　false　shame　at　abandoning
what　I　had　once　undertaken；　because　of　my　self…delusion　as　a
benefactor；　I　went　on　with　this　matter　for　a　tolerably　long　time；
and　would　have　gone　on　with　it　until　it　came　to　nothing　of　itself；
so　that　it　was　with　the　greatest　difficulty　that；　with　the　help　of
Ivan　Fedotitch；　I　got　rid；　after　a　fashion；　as　well　as　I　could；　in
the　tavern　of　the　Rzhanoff　house；　of　the　thirty…seven　rubles　which　I
did　not　regard　as　belonging　to　me。

Of　course　I　might　have　gone　on　with　this　business；　and　have　made　out
of　it　a　semblance　of　benevolence；　by　urging　the　people　who　had
promised　me　money；　I　might　have　collected　more；　I　might　have
distributed　this　money；　and　consoled　myself　with　my　charity；　but　I
perceived；　on　the　one　hand；　that　we　rich　people　neither　wish　nor　are
able　to　share　a　portion　of　our　a　superfluity　with　the　poor　（we　have
so　many　wants　of　our　own）；　and　that　money　should　not　be　given　to　any
one；　if　the　object　really　be　to　do　good　and　not　to　give　money　itself
at　haphazard；　as　I　had　done　in　the　Rzhanoff　tavern。　　And　I　gave　up
the　whole　thing；　and　went　off　to　the　country　with　despair　in　my
heart。

In　the　country　I　tried　to　write　an　essay　about　all　this　that　I　had
experienced；　and　to　tell　why　my　undertaking　had　not　succeeded。　　I
wanted　to　justify　myself　against　the　reproaches　which　had　been　made
to　me　on　the　score　of　my　article　on　the　census；　I　wanted　to　convict
society　of　its　in　difference；　and　to　state　the　causes　in　which　this
city　poverty　has　its　birth；　and　the　necessity　of　combating　it；　and
the　means　of　doing　so　which　I　saw。

I　began　this　essay　at　once；　and　it　seemed　to　me　that　in　it　I　was
saying　a　very　great　deal　that　was　important。　　But　toil　as　I　would
over　it；　and　in　spite　of　the　abundance　of　materials；　in　spite　of　the
superfluity　of　them　even；　I　could　not　get　though　that　essay；　and　so　I
did　not　finish　it　until　the　present　year；　because　of　the　irritation
under　the　influence　of　which　I　wrote；　because　I　had　not　gone　through
all　that　was　requisite　in　order　to　bear　myself　properly　in　relation
to　this　essay；　because　I　did　not　simply　and　clearly　acknowledge　the
cause　of　all　this；a　very　simple　cause；　which　had　its　root　in
myself。

In　the　domain　of　morals；　one　very　remarkable　and　too　little　noted
phenomenon　presents　itself。

If　I　tell　a　man　who　knows　nothing　about　it；　what　I　know　about
geology；　astronomy；　history；　physics；　and　mathematics；　that　man
receives　entirely　new　information；　and　he　never　says　to　me：　　〃Well；
what　is　there　new　in　that？　　Everybody　knows　that；　and　I　have　known　it
this　long　while。〃　　But　tell　that　same　man　the　most　lofty　truth；
expressed　in　the　clearest；　most　concise　manner；　as　it　has　never
before　been　expressed；　and　every　ordinary　individual；　especially　one
who　takes　no　particular　interest　in　moral　questions；　or；　even　more；
one　to　whom　the　moral　truth　stated　by　you　is　displeasing；　will
infallibly　say　to　you：　　〃Well；　who　does　not　know　that？　　That　was
known　and　said　long　ago。〃　　It　really　seems　to　him　that　this　has　been
said　long　ago　and　in　just　this　way。　　Only　those　to　whom　moral　truths
are　dear　and　important　know　how　important　and　precious　they　are；　and
with　what　prolonged　labor　the　elucidation；　the　simplification；　of
moral　truths；　their　transit　from　the　state　of　a　misty；　indefinitely
recognized　supposition；　and　desire；　from　indistinct；　incoherent
expressions；　to　a　firm　and　definite　expression；　unavoidably　demanding
corresponding　concessions；　are　attained。

We　have　all　become　accustomed　to　think　that　moral　instruction　is　a
most　absurd　and　tiresome　thing；　in　which　there　can　be　nothing　new　or
interesting；　and　yet　all　human　life；　together　with　all　the　varied　and
complicated　activities；　apparently　independent；　of　morality；　both
governmental　and　scientific；　and　artistic　and　commercial；　has　no
other　aim　than　the　greater　and　greater　elucidation；　confirmation；
simplification；　and　accessibility　of　moral　truth。

I　remember　that　I　was　once　walking　along　the　street　in　Moscow；　and　in
front　of　me　I　saw　a　man　come　out　and　gaze　attentively　at　the　stones
of　the　sidewalk；　after　which　he　selected　one　stone；　seated　himself　on
it；　and　began　to　plane　（as　it　seemed　to　me）　or　to　rub　it　with　the
greatest　diligence　and　force。　　〃What　is　he　doing　to　the　sidewalk？〃　I
said　to　myself。　　On　going　close　to　him；　I　saw　what　the　man　was　doing。
He　was　a　young　fellow　from　a　meat…shop；　he　was　whetting　his　knife　on
the　stone　of　the　pavement。　　He　was　not　thinking　at　all　of　the　stones
when　he　scrutinized　them；　still　less　was　he　thinking　of　them　when　he
was　accomplishing　his　task：　　he　was　whetting　his　knife。　　He　was
obliged　to　whet　his　knife　so　that　he　could　cut　the　meat；　but　to　me　it
seemed　as　though　he　were　doing　something　to　the　stones　of　the
sidewalk。　　Just　so　it　appears　as　though　humanity　were　occupied　with
commerce；　conventions；　wars；　sciences；　arts；　but　only　one　business　is
of　importance　to　it；　and　with　only　one　business　is　it　occupied：　　it
is　elucidating　to　itself　those　moral　laws　by　which　it　lives。　　The
moral　laws　are　already　in　existence；　humanity　is　only　elucidating
them；　and　this　elucidation　seems　unimportant　and　imperceptible　for
any　one　who　has　no　need　of　moral　laws；　who　does　not　wish　to　live　by
them。　　But　this　elucidation　of　the　moral　law　is　not　only　weighty；　but
the　only　real　business　of　all　humanity。　　This　elucidation　is
imperceptible　just　as　the　difference　between　the　dull　and　the　sharp
knife　is　imperceptible。　　The　knife　is　a　knife　all　the　same；　and　for　a
person　who　is　not　obliged　to　cut　any　thing　with　this　knife；　the
difference　between　the　dull　and　the　sharp　one　is　imperceptible。　　For
the　man　who　has　come　to　an　understanding　that　his　whole　life　depends
on　the　greater　or　less　degree　of　sharpness　in　the　knife；for　such　a
man；　every　whetting　of　it　is　weighty；　and　that　man　knows　that　the
knife　is　a　knife　only　when　it　is　sharp；　when　it　cuts　that　which　needs
cutting。

This　is　what　happened　to　me；　when　I　began　to　write　my　essay。　　It
seemed　to　me　that　I　knew　all　about　it；　that　I　understood　every　thing
connected　with　those　questions　which　had　produced　on　me　the
impressions　of　the　Lyapinsky　house；　and　the　census；　but　when　I
attempted　to　take　account　of　them　and　to　demonstrate　them；　it　turned
out　that　the　knife　would　not　cut；　and　that　it　must　be　whetted。　　And
it　is　only　now；　after　the　lapse　of　three　years；　that　I　have　felt　that
my　knife　is　sufficiently　sharp；　so　that　I　can　cut　what　I　choose。　　I
have　learned　very　little　that　is　new。　　My　thoughts　are　all　exactly
the　same；　but　they　were　duller　then；　and　they　all　scattered　and　would
not　unite　on　any　thing；　there　was　no　edge　to　them；　they　would　not
concentrate　on　one　point；　on　the　simplest　and　clearest　decision；　as
they　have　now　concentrated　themselves。



CHAPTER　XIII。



I　remember　that　during　the　entire　period　of　my　unsuccessful　efforts
at　helping　the　inhabitants　of　the　city；　I　presented　to　myself　the
aspect　of　a　man　who　should　attempt　to　drag　another　man　out　of　a　swamp
while　he　himself　was　standing　on　the　same　unstable　ground。　　Every
attempt　of　mine　had　made　me　conscious　of　the　untrustworthy　character
of　the　soil　on　which　I　stood。　　I　felt　that　I　was　in　the　swamp　myself；
but　this　consciousness　did　not　cause　me　to　look　more　narrowly　at　my
own　feet；　in　order　to　learn　upon　what　I　was　standing；　I　kept