Historical fiction; Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction
the fire!—we cannot but ask, I repeat, what induced him to accuse
himself of this crime? Why did he not simply stop short at the number
sixty, and keep his secret until his last breath? Why could he not
simply leave the monks alone, and go into the desert to repent? Or why
not become a monk himself? That is where the puzzle comes in! There
must have been something stronger than the stake or the fire, or even
than the habits of twenty years! There must have been an idea more
powerful than all the calamities and sorrows of this world, famine or
torture, leprosy or plague—an idea which entered into the heart,
directed and enlarged the springs of life, and made even that hell
supportable to humanity! Show me a force, a power like that, in this
our century of vices and railways! I might say, perhaps, in our century
of steamboats and railways, but I repeat in our century of vices and
railways, because I am drunk but truthful! Show me a single idea which
unites men nowadays with half the strength that it had in those
centuries, and dare to maintain that the ‘springs of life’ have not
been polluted and weakened beneath this ‘star,’ beneath this network in
which men are entangled! Don’t talk to me about your prosperity, your
riches, the rarity of famine, the rapidity of the means of transport!
There is more of riches, but less of force. The idea uniting heart and
soul to heart and soul exists no more. All is loose, soft, limp—we are
all of us limp.... Enough, gentlemen! I have done. That is not the
question. No, the question is now, excellency, I believe, to sit down
to the banquet you are about to provide for us!”
Lebedeff had roused great indignation in some of his auditors (it
should be remarked that the bottles were constantly uncorked during his
speech); but this unexpected conclusion calmed even the most turbulent
spirits. “That’s how a clever barrister makes a good point!” said he,
when speaking of his peroration later on. The visitors began to laugh
and chatter once again; the committee left their seats, and stretched
their legs on the terrace. Keller alone was still disgusted with
Lebedeff and his speech; he turned from one to another, saying in a
loud voice:
“He attacks education, he boasts of the fanaticism of the twelfth
century, he makes absurd grimaces, and added to that he is by no means
the innocent he makes himself out to be. How did he get the money to
buy this house, allow me to ask?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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