a confession(忏悔录)-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



asylum；　but　then　I　only　dimly　suspected　this；　and　like　all

lunatics；　simply　called　all　men　lunatics　except　myself。







　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　III



　　　　　So　I　lived；　abandoning　myself　to　this　insanity　for　another　six

years；　till　my　marriage。　　During　that　time　I　went　abroad。　　Life　in

Europe　and　my　acquaintance　with　leading　and　learned　Europeans

＇Footnote：　　Russians　generally　make　a　distinction　between　Europeans

and　Russians。　　A。M。＇　confirmed　me　yet　more　in　the　faith　of

striving　after　perfection　in　which　I　believed；　for　I　found　the　same

faith　among　them。　　That　faith　took　with　me　the　common　form　it

assumes　with　the　majority　of　educated　people　of　our　day。　　It　was

expressed　by　the　word　〃progress〃。　　It　then　appeared　to　me　that　this

word　meant　something。　　I　did　not　as　yet　understand　that；　being

tormented　（like　every　vital　man）　by　the　question　how　it　is　best　for

me　to　live；　in　my　answer；　〃Live　in　conformity　with　progress〃；　I　was

like　a　man　in　a　boat　who　when　carried　along　by　wind　and　waves

should　reply　to　what　for　him　is　the　chief　and　only　question。

〃whither　to　steer〃；　by　saying；　〃We　are　being　carried　somewhere〃。

　　　　　I　did　not　then　notice　this。　　Only　occasionally　　not　by

reason　but　by　instinct　　I　revolted　against　this　superstition　so

common　in　our　day；　by　which　people　hide　from　themselves　their　lack

of　understanding　of　life。。。。So；　for　instance；　during　my　stay　in

Paris；　the　sight　of　an　execution　revealed　to　me　the　instability　of

my　superstitious　belief　in　progress。　　When　I　saw　the　head　part　from

the　body　and　how　they　thumped　separately　into　the　box；　I

understood；　not　with　my　mind　but　with　my　whole　being；　that　no

theory　of　the　reasonableness　of　our　present　progress　could　justify

this　deed；　and　that　though　everybody　from　the　creation　of　the　world

had　held　it　to　be　necessary；　on　whatever　theory；　I　knew　it　to　be

unnecessary　and　bad；　and　therefore　the　arbiter　of　what　is　good　and

evil　is　not　what　people　say　and　do；　nor　is　it　progress；　but　it　is

my　heart　and　I。　　Another　instance　of　a　realization　that　the

superstitious　belief　in　progress　is　insufficient　as　a　guide　to

life；　was　my　brother's　death。　　Wise；　good；　serious；　he　fell　ill

while　still　a　young　man；　suffered　for　more　than　a　year；　and　died

painfully；　not　understanding　why　he　had　lived　and　still　less　why　he

had　to　die。　　No　theories　could　give　me；　or　him；　any　reply　to　these

questions　during　his　slow　and　painful　dying。　　But　these　were　only

rare　instances　of　doubt；　and　I　actually　continued　to　live

professing　a　faith　only　in　progress。　　〃Everything　evolves　and　I

evolve　with　it：　　and　why　it　is　that　I　evolve　with　all　things　will

be　known　some　day。〃　　So　I　ought　to　have　formulated　my　faith　at　that

time。

　　　　　On　returning　from　abroad　I　settled　in　the　country　and　chanced

to　occupy　myself　with　peasant　schools。　　This　work　was　particularly

to　my　taste　because　in　it　I　had　not　to　face　the　falsity　which　had

become　obvious　to　me　and　stared　me　in　the　face　when　I　tried　to

teach　people　by　literary　means。　　Here　also　I　acted　in　the　name　of

progress；　but　I　already　regarded　progress　itself　critically。　　I

said　to　myself：　　〃In　some　of　its　developments　progress　has

proceeded　wrongly；　and　with　primitive　peasant　children　one　must

deal　in　a　spirit　of　perfect　freedom；　letting　them　choose　what　path

of　progress　they　please。〃　　In　reality　I　was　ever　revolving　round

one　and　the　same　insoluble　problem；　which　was：　　How　to　teach

without　knowing　what　to　teach。　　In　the　higher　spheres　of　literary

activity　I　had　realized　that　one　could　not　teach　without　knowing

what；　for　I　saw　that　people　all　taught　differently；　and　by

quarrelling　among　themselves　only　succeeded　in　hiding　their

ignorance　from　one　another。　　But　here；　with　peasant　children；　I

thought　to　evade　this　difficulty　by　letting　them　learn　what　they

liked。　　It　amuses　me　now　when　I　remember　how　I　shuffled　in　trying

to　satisfy　my　desire　to　teach；　while　in　the　depth　of　my　soul　I　knew

very　well　that　I　could　not　teach　anything　needful　for　I　did　not

know　what　was　needful。　　After　spending　a　year　at　school　work　I　went

abroad　a　second　time　to　discover　how　to　teach　others　while　myself

knowing　nothing。

　　　　　And　it　seemed　to　me　that　I　had　learnt　this　aborad；　and　in　the

year　of　the　peasants'　emancipation　（1861）　I　returned　to　Russia

armed　with　all　this　wisdom；　and　having　become　an　Arbiter　＇Footnote：

To　keep　peace　between　peasants　and　owners。A。M。＇　I　began　to　teach；

both　the　uneducated　peasants　in　schools　and　the　educated　classes

through　a　magazine　I　published。　　Things　appeared　to　be　going　well；

but　I　felt　I　was　not　quite　sound　mentally　and　that　matters　could

not　long　continue　in　that　way。　　And　I　should　perhaps　then　have　come

to　the　state　of　despair　I　reached　fifteen　years　later　had　there　not

been　one　side　of　life　still　unexplored　by　me　which　promised　me

happiness：　　that　was　my　marriage。

　　　　　For　a　year　I　busied　myself　with　arbitration　work；　the　schools；

and　the　magazine；　and　I　became　so　worn　out　　as　a　result

especially　of　my　mental　confusion　　and　so　hard　was　my　struggle　as

Arbiter；　so　obscure　the　results　of　my　activity　in　the　schools；　so

repulsive　my　shuffling　in　the　magazine　（which　always　amounted　to

one　and　the　same　thing：　　a　desire　to　teach　everybody　and　to　hide

the　fact　that　I　did　not　know　what　to　teach）；　that　I　fell　ill；

mentally　rather　than　physically；　threw　up　everything；　and　went　away

to　the　Bashkirs　in　the　steppes；　to　breathe　fresh　air；　drink　kumys

＇Footnote：　A　fermented　drink　prepared　from　mare's　milk。A。　M。＇；

and　live　a　merely　animal　life。

　　　　　Returning　from　there　I　married。　　The　new　conditions　of　happy

family　life　completely　diverted　me　from　all　search　for　the　general

meaning　of　life。　　My　whole　life　was　centred　at　that　time　in　my

family；　wife　and　children；　and　therefore　in　care　to　increase　our

means　of　livelihood。　　My　striving　after　self…perfection；　for　which

I　had　already　substituted　a　striving　for　perfection　in　general；

i。e。　progress；　was　now　again　replaced　by　the　effort　simply　to

secure　the　best　possible　conditions　for　myself　and　my　family。

　　　　　So　another　fifteen　years　passed。

　　　　　In　spite　of　the　fact　that　I　now　regarded　authorship　as　of　no

importance　　the　temptation　of　immense　monetary　rewards　and

applause　for　my　insignificant　work　　and　I　devoted　myself　to　it　as

a　means　of　improving　my　material　position　and　of　stifling　in　my

soul　all　questions　as　to　the　meaning　of　my　own　life　or　life　in

general。

　　　　　I　wrote：　　teaching　what　was　for　me　the　only　truth；　namely；

that　one　should　live　so　as　to　have　the　best　for　oneself　and　one's

family。

　　　　　So　I　lived；　but　five　years　ago　something　very　strange　began　to

happen　to　me。　　At　first　I　experienced　moments　of　perplexity　and

arrest　of　life；　and　though　I　did　not　know　what　to　do　or　how　to

live；　and　I　felt　lost　and　became　dejected。　　But　this　passed　and　I

went　on　living　as　before。　　Then　these　moments　of　perplexity　began

to　recur　oftener　and　oftener；　and　always　in　the　same　form。　　They

were　always　expressed　by　the　questions：　　What　is　it　for？　　What　does

it　lead　to？

　　　　　At　first　it　seemed　to　me　that　these　were　aimless　and

irrelevant　questions。　　I　thought　that　it　was　all　well　known；　and

that　if　I　should　ever　wish　to　deal　with　the　solution　it　would　not

cost　me　much　effort；　just　at　present　I　had　no　time　for　it；　but　when

I　wanted　to　I　should　be　able　to　find　the　answer。　　The　questions

however　began　to　repeat　themselves　frequently；　and　to　demand

replies　more　and　more　insistently；　and　like　drops　of　ink　always

falling　on　one　place　they　ran　together　into　one　black　blot。

　　　　　Then　occurred　what　happens　to　everyone　sickening　with　a　mortal

internal　disease。　　At　first　trivial　signs　of　indisposition　appear

to　which　the　sick　man　pays　no　attention；　then　these　signs　reappear

more　and　more　often　and　merge　into　one　uninterrupted　period　of

suffering。　　The　suffering　increases；　and　before　the　sick　man　can

look　round；　what　he　took　for　a　mere　indisposition　has　already

become　more　im