The Man Who Was Afraid [56]
said Foma, with a smile.
"You did look like a lamb, and that was unnecessary. You must look neither like a lamb, nor like a wolf, but just play off before him as though saying: 'You are our father, we are your children,' and he will immediately soften."
"And what is this for?"
"For any event. A governor, my dear, can always be of use somewhere."
"What do you teach him, papa?" said Luba, indignantly, in a low voice.
"Well, what?"
"To dance attendance."
"You lie, you learned fool! I teach him politics, not dancing attendance; I teach him the politics of life. You had better leave us alone! Depart from evil, and prepare some lunch for us. Go ahead!"
Luba rose quickly and throwing the towel across the back of the chair, left the room. Mayakin, winking his eyes, looked after her, tapped the table with his fingers and said:
"I shall instruct you, Foma. I shall teach you the most genuine, true knowledge and philosophy, and if you understand them, your life will be faultless."
Foma saw how the wrinkles on the old man's forehead were twitching, and they seemed to him like lines of Slavonic letters.
"First of all, Foma, since you live on this earth, it is your duty to think over everything that takes place about you. Why? That you may not suffer for your own senselessness, and may not harm others by your folly. Now, every act of man is double-faced, Foma. One is visible to all--this is the wrong side; the other is concealed--and that is the real one. It is that one that you must be able to find in order to understand the sense of the thing. Take for example the lodging-asylums, the work-houses, the poor-houses and other similar institutions. Just consider, what are they for?"
"What is there to consider here?" said Foma, wearily "Everybody knows what they are for--for the poor and feeble."
"Eh, dear! Sometimes everybody knows that a certain man is a rascal and a scoundrel, and yet all call him Ivan or Peter, and instead of abusing him they respectfully add his father's name to his own."
"What has this to do with it?"
"It's all to the point. So you say that these houses are for the poor, for beggars, consequently, in accordance with Christ's commandment. Very well! But who is the beggar? The beggar is a man, forced by fate to remind us of Christ; he is a brother of Christ; he is the bell of the Lord and he rings in life to rouse our conscience, to arouse the satiety of the flesh of man. He stands by the window and sings out: 'For the sake of Christ!' and by his singing he reminds us of Christ, of His holy commandment to help the neighbour. But men have so arranged their life that it is impossible for them to act according to the teachings of Christ, and Jesus Christ has become altogether unnecessary to us. Not one time, but perhaps a hundred thousand times have we turned Him over to the cross, and yet we cannot drive Him altogether out of life, because His poor brethren sing His Holy name on the streets and thus remind us of Him. And now we have arranged to lock up these beggars in separate houses that they should not walk around on the streets and should not rouse our conscience.
"Cle-ver!" whispered Foma, amazed, staring fixedly at his godfather.
"Aha!" exclaimed Mayakin, his eyes beaming with triumph.
"How is it that my father did not think of this?" asked Foma, uneasily.
"Just wait! Listen further, it is still worse. So you see, we have arranged to lock them up in all sorts of houses and that they might be kept there cheaply, we have compelled those old and feeble beggars to work and we need give no alms now, and since our streets have been cleared of the various ragged beggars, we do not see their terrible distress and poverty, and we may, therefore, think that all men on earth are well-fed, shod and clothed. That's what all these different houses are for, for the concealment of the truth, for the banishment of Christ from our life! Is this clear to you?"
"Yes!" said Foma, confused by the old man's clever words.
"And this is not all. The pool is not yet baled out to
"You did look like a lamb, and that was unnecessary. You must look neither like a lamb, nor like a wolf, but just play off before him as though saying: 'You are our father, we are your children,' and he will immediately soften."
"And what is this for?"
"For any event. A governor, my dear, can always be of use somewhere."
"What do you teach him, papa?" said Luba, indignantly, in a low voice.
"Well, what?"
"To dance attendance."
"You lie, you learned fool! I teach him politics, not dancing attendance; I teach him the politics of life. You had better leave us alone! Depart from evil, and prepare some lunch for us. Go ahead!"
Luba rose quickly and throwing the towel across the back of the chair, left the room. Mayakin, winking his eyes, looked after her, tapped the table with his fingers and said:
"I shall instruct you, Foma. I shall teach you the most genuine, true knowledge and philosophy, and if you understand them, your life will be faultless."
Foma saw how the wrinkles on the old man's forehead were twitching, and they seemed to him like lines of Slavonic letters.
"First of all, Foma, since you live on this earth, it is your duty to think over everything that takes place about you. Why? That you may not suffer for your own senselessness, and may not harm others by your folly. Now, every act of man is double-faced, Foma. One is visible to all--this is the wrong side; the other is concealed--and that is the real one. It is that one that you must be able to find in order to understand the sense of the thing. Take for example the lodging-asylums, the work-houses, the poor-houses and other similar institutions. Just consider, what are they for?"
"What is there to consider here?" said Foma, wearily "Everybody knows what they are for--for the poor and feeble."
"Eh, dear! Sometimes everybody knows that a certain man is a rascal and a scoundrel, and yet all call him Ivan or Peter, and instead of abusing him they respectfully add his father's name to his own."
"What has this to do with it?"
"It's all to the point. So you say that these houses are for the poor, for beggars, consequently, in accordance with Christ's commandment. Very well! But who is the beggar? The beggar is a man, forced by fate to remind us of Christ; he is a brother of Christ; he is the bell of the Lord and he rings in life to rouse our conscience, to arouse the satiety of the flesh of man. He stands by the window and sings out: 'For the sake of Christ!' and by his singing he reminds us of Christ, of His holy commandment to help the neighbour. But men have so arranged their life that it is impossible for them to act according to the teachings of Christ, and Jesus Christ has become altogether unnecessary to us. Not one time, but perhaps a hundred thousand times have we turned Him over to the cross, and yet we cannot drive Him altogether out of life, because His poor brethren sing His Holy name on the streets and thus remind us of Him. And now we have arranged to lock up these beggars in separate houses that they should not walk around on the streets and should not rouse our conscience.
"Cle-ver!" whispered Foma, amazed, staring fixedly at his godfather.
"Aha!" exclaimed Mayakin, his eyes beaming with triumph.
"How is it that my father did not think of this?" asked Foma, uneasily.
"Just wait! Listen further, it is still worse. So you see, we have arranged to lock them up in all sorts of houses and that they might be kept there cheaply, we have compelled those old and feeble beggars to work and we need give no alms now, and since our streets have been cleared of the various ragged beggars, we do not see their terrible distress and poverty, and we may, therefore, think that all men on earth are well-fed, shod and clothed. That's what all these different houses are for, for the concealment of the truth, for the banishment of Christ from our life! Is this clear to you?"
"Yes!" said Foma, confused by the old man's clever words.
"And this is not all. The pool is not yet baled out to