this general
definition, and that is not a criticism in the
precise meaning of
the word, but an article treating of the
same subject and
having my book in view. I mean the
pamphlet
of Mr. Troizky
(published at Kazan), "A Sermon for the
People." The author obviously accepts Christ's
teaching in
its true
meaning. He says that the prohibition of
resistance
to evil by force
means exactly what it does mean; and the same
with the
prohibition of swearing. He does not, as
others do,
deny the meaning
of Christ's teaching, but unfortunately he
does not draw from
this admission the inevitable deductions
which present
themselves spontaneously in our life when we
understand
Christ's teaching in that way. If we
must not
oppose evil by
force, nor swear, everyone naturally asks,
"How, then,
about military service? and the oath of
obedience?" To this question
the author gives no reply; but
it must be
answered. And if he cannot answer, then
he would
do better no to speak on the subject at all,
as such silence
leads to error.
The majority of religious critics of my book use this fifth
method
of replying to it. I could quote dozens of such critics, in
all of
whom, without exception, we find the same thing repeated:
everything is discussed except what constitutes the
principal
subject of the book.
As a characteristic example of such
criticisms, I will quote the article of a well-known and
ingenious
English writer and preacher--Farrar--who, like many learned
theologians, is a great master of the art of circuitously
evading
a question. The
article was published in an American journal, the
FORUM, in October, 1888.
After conscientiously explaining in brief the contents of my
book,
Farrar says:
"Tolstoy came
to the conclusion that a coarse deceit had been
palmed upon the
world when these words 'Resist not evil,' were
held by civil
society to be compatible with war, courts of
justice, capital
punishment, divorce, oaths, national
prejudice, and,
indeed, with most of the institutions of civil
and social
life. He now believes that the kingdom
of God would
come if all men
kept these five commandments of Christ, viz.:
1. Live in peace
with all men. 2. Be pure. 3. Take no oaths.
4. Resist not
evil. 5. Renounce national distinctions.
"Tolstoy," he says, "rejects the inspiration of the Old
Testament; hence he
rejects the chief doctrines of the Church--
that of the
Atonement by blood, the Trinity, the descent of the
Holy Ghost on the
Apostles, and his transmission through the
priesthood." And he
recognizes only the words and commands of
Christ. "But is this interpretation of Christ a
true one?" he
says. "Are all men bound to act as Tolstoy
teaches--i. e., to
carry out these five commandments of
Christ?"
You expect, then, that in answer to this essential question,
which
is the only one that could induce a man to write an article
about
the book, he will say either that this interpretation of
Christ's
teaching is true and we ought to follow it, or he will say
that
such an interpretation is untrue, will show why, and will
give
some other correct interpretation of those words which I
interpret
incorrectly. But
nothing of this kind is done. Farrar
only
expresses his "belief" that,
"although
actuated by the noblest sincerity, Count Tolstoy has
been misled by
partial and one-sided interpretations of the
meaning of the
Gospel and the mind and will of Christ."
What
this error consists
in is not made clear; it is only said:
"To enter into
the proof of this is impossible in this article,
for I have already
exceeded the space at my command."
And he concludes in a tranquil spirit:
"Meanwhile,
the reader who feels troubled lest it should be his
duty also to
forsake all the conditions of his life and to take
up the position and
work of a common laborer, may rest for the
present on the
principle, SECURUS JUDICAT ORBIS TERRARUM.
With
few and rare
exceptions," he continues, "the whole of
Christendom, from the days of the Apostles
down to our own, has
come to the firm
conclusion that it was the object of Christ to
lay down great
eternal principles, but not to disturb the bases
and revolutionize
the institutions of all human society, which
themselves rest on
divine sanctions as well as on inevitable
conditions. Were it my object to prove how untenable is
the
doctrine of
communism, based by Count Tolstoy upon the divine
paradoxes [sic],
which can be interpreted only on historical
principles in
accordance with the whole method of the teaching
of Jesus, it would
require an ampler canvas than I have here at
my disposal."
What a pity he has not an "ampler canvas at his
disposal"! And
what a strange thing it is that for all these last fifteen
centuries no one has had a "canvas ample enough"
to prove that
Christ, whom we profess to believe in, says something
utterly
unlike what he does say!
Still, they could prove it if they
wanted to. But it is
not worth while to prove what everyone
knows; it is enough to say "SECURUS JUDICAT ORBIS
TERRARUM."
And of this kind, without exception, are all the criticisms
of educated believers, who must, as such, understand the
danger of their position.
The sole escape from it for them
lies in their hope that they may be able, by using the
authority of the Church, of antiquity, and of their sacred
office, to overawe the reader and draw him away from the
idea of reading the Gospel for himself and thinking out the
question in his own mind for himself. And in this they are
successful; for, indeed, how could the notion occur to any
one that all that has been repeated from century to century
with such earnestness and solemnity by all those
archdeacons,
bishops, archbishops, holy synods, and popes, is all of it a
base
lie and a calumny foisted upon Christ by them for the sake
of
keeping safe the money they must have to live luxuriously on
the
necks of other men?
And it is a lie and a calumny so transparent
that the only way of keeping it up consists in overawing
people by
their earnestness, their conscientiousness. It is just what has
taken place of late years at recruiting sessions; at a table
before the zertzal--the symbol of the Tzars authority--in
the seat
of honor under the life-size portrait of the Tzar, sit
dignified
old officials, wearing decorations, conversing freely and
easily,
writing notes, summoning men before them, and giving orders.
Here, wearing a cross on his breast, near them, is
prosperous-
looking old Priest in a silken cassock, with long gray hair
flowing on to his cope; before a lectern who wears the
golden
cross and has a Gospel bound in gold.
They summon Iran Petroff.
A young man comes in, wretchedly,
shabbily dressed, and in terror, the muscles of his face
working,
his eyes bright and restless; and in a broken voice, hardly
above
a whisper, he says: "I--by Christ's law--as a
Christian--I
cannot."
"What is he muttering?" asks the president, frowning
impatiently and raising his eyes from his book to listen.
"Speak
louder," the colonel with shining epaulets shouts to
him. "I--I as
a Christian--"
And at last it appears that the young man refuses
to serve in the army because he is a Christian. "Don't talk
nonsense. Stand to be
measured. Doctor, may I trouble you to
measure him. He is
all right?" "Yes." "Reverend father,
administer the oath to him."
No one is the least disturbed by what the poor scared young
man is
muttering. They do not even pay attention to it. "They all mutter
something, but we've no time to listen to it, we have to
enroll so
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