The Way of Martha and the Way of MaryGraham, Stephen
Religion
The Way of Martha and the Way of Mary
Graham, Stephen
National characteristics, Russian; Russia -- Religion
The most famous public-house in Moscow is the “_Yama_” (The Pit), in the
street called Rozhdestvensky, a public-house which Tolstoy much wanted
to visit, a tavern frequented not only by the common people but by
scholars and seekers, especially by those who style themselves
_Bogoiskateli_, seekers after God. Here appeared at times such
well-known Russians as Solovyov, Bulgakof, Chertkof, Velikanof—it was
the last who asked me to the “_Yama_,” and through whom I was able to
hear a multifarious collection of the common people discuss religion and
Russia and ghosts and the eternal questions.
From the “_Yama_” have sprung several interesting sects, for example,
the _Bezsmertniki_, or deathless ones. Their doctrines, promulgated by a
wretched consumptive who had both feet in the grave, was that it was
possible to escape death. He held that health was faith in life, and
that disease was faith in death. Death came simply from lack of faith.
There were people living eternally but we did not know where to find
them. The _Bezsmertniki_ make pilgrimages to the East to seek those who
have been living for ages. Alas! the founder died before the eyes of his
followers. “He lacked faith,” said they, and the new religion continued.
One of the most ardent of them is a frequent visitor of the “_Yama_,”
Alexey Yegorovitch, a stocking-hawker.
So much trouble came from the discussions in the “_Yama_” that the
public-house was closed by the Government. But as in the case of Sasha,
so in the case of the “_Yama_” and the God-seekers. You can kill or
mutilate the body, but you cannot kill the soul, the thing in itself.
The “_Yama_,” crushed in one tavern, broke out in another.
I visited the “_Yama_” one Sunday. It was resuscitated in the “Bay”
public-house in Malo-Golovinskaya by the Candlemas Gate. We sat down in
the tavern at 12 o’clock, and over two glasses of tea talked for six
hours and a half—our only other sustenance being occasional hot cabbage
pies brought to us in trayfuls by a little serving-boy from the kitchen.
The tavern swarmed with religious characters, home missionaries,
propagandists, Bible-hawkers. There was a strong detachment of Old
Believers; an old Baptist hawker of women’s hose; many stall-keepers
from Sukareva Market; Velikanof, a friend of Pereplotchikof; Victor
Karlovitch, greasy and fat, who believes in evil spirits and feels
attracted to Theosophy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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