The Kingdom of God Is Within You by Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (readera ebook reader txt) đź“•
"We regard as unchristian and unlawful not only all wars, whether offensive or defensive, but all preparations for war; every naval ship, every arsenal, every fortification, we regard as unchristian and unlawful; the existence of any kind of standing army, all military chieftains, all monuments commemorative of victory over a fallen foe, all trophies won in battle, all celebrations in honor of military exploits, all appropriations for defense by arms; we regard as unchristian and unlawful every edict of government requiring of its subjects military service.
"Hence we deem it unlawful to bear arms, and we cannot hold any office which imposes on its incumbent the obligation to compel men to do right on pain of imprisonment or death. We therefore voluntarily exclude ourselves from every legisl
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would never have weighed anchor. It was madness to set off
upon the ocean, not knowing the route, on the ocean on which no
one had sailed, to sail toward a land whose existence was
doubtful. By this madness he discovered a new world.
Doubtless if the peoples of the world could simply transfer
themselves from one furnished mansion to another and better
one—it would make it much easier; but unluckily there is no
one to get humanity’s new dwelling ready for it. The future is
even worse than the ocean—there is nothing there—it will be
what men and circumstances make it.
“If you are content with the old world, try to preserve it, it
is very sick and cannot hold out much longer. But if you
cannot bear to live in everlasting dissonance between your
beliefs and your life, thinking one thing and doing another,
get out of the mediaeval whited sepulchers, and face your
fears. I know very well it is not easy.
“It is not a little thing to cut one’s self off from all to
which a man has been accustomed from his birth, with which he
has grown up to maturity. Men are ready for tremendous
sacrifices, but not for those which life demands of them. Are
they ready to sacrifice modern civilization, their manner of
life, their religion, the received conventional morality?
“Are we ready to give up all the results we have attained with
such effort, results of which we have been boasting for three
centuries; to give up every convenience and charm of our
existence, to prefer savage youth to the senile decay of
civilization, to pull down the palace raised for us by our
ancestors only for the pleasure of having a hand in the
founding of a new house, which will doubtless be built long
after we are gone?” (Herzen, vol. v. p. 55.)
Thus wrote almost half a century ago the Russian writer, who with
prophetic insight saw clearly then, what even the most
unreflecting man sees to-day, the impossibility, that is, of life
continuing on its old basis, and the necessity of establishing new
forms of life.
It is clear now from the very simplest, most commonplace point of
view, that it is madness to remain under the roof of a building
which cannot support its weight, and that we must leave it. And
indeed it is difficult to imagine a position more wretched than
that of the Christian world to-day, with its nations armed against
one another, with its constantly increasing taxation to maintain
its armies, with the hatred of the working class for the rich ever
growing more intense, with the Damocles sword of war forever
hanging over the heads of all, ready every instant to fall,
certain to fall sooner or later.
Hardly could any revolution be more disastrous for the great mass
of the population than the present order or rather disorder of our
life, with its daily sacrifices to exhausting and unnatural toil,
to poverty, drunkenness, and profligacy, with all the horrors of
the war that is at hand, which will swallow up in one year more
victims than all the revolutions of the century.
What will become of humanity if each of us performs the duty God
demands of us through the conscience implanted within us? Will
not harm come if, being wholly in the power of a master, I carry
out, in the workshop erected and directed by him, the orders he
gives me, strange though they may seem to me who do not know the
Master’s final aims?
But it is not even this question “What will happen?” that agitates
men when they hesitate to fulfill the Master’s will. They are
troubled by the question how to live without those habitual
conditions of life which we call civilization, culture, art, and
science. We feel ourselves all the burdensomeness of life as it
is; we see also that this organization of life must inevitably be
our ruin, if it continues. At the same time we want the
conditions of our life which arise out of this organization—our
civilization, culture, art, and science—to remain intact. It is
as though a man, living in an old house and suffering from cold
and all sorts of inconvenience in it, knowing, too, that it is on
the point of falling to pieces, should consent to its being
rebuilt, but only on the condition that he should not be required
to leave it: a condition which is equivalent to refusing to have
it rebuilt at all.
“But what if I leave the house and give up every convenience for a
time, and the new house is not built, or is built on a different
plan so that I do not find in it the comforts to which I am
accustomed?” But seeing that the materials and the builders are
here, there is every likelihood that the new house will on the
contrary be better built than the old one. And at the same time,
there is not only the likelihood but the certainty that the old
house will fall down and crush those who remain within it.
Whether the old habitual conditions of life are supported, or
whether they are abolished and altogether new and better
conditions arise; in any case, there is no doubt we shall be
forced to leave the old forms of life which have become impossible
and fatal, and must go forward to meet the future.
“Civilization, art, science, culture, will disappear!”
Yes, but all these we know are only various manifestations of
truth, and the change that is before us is only to be made for the
sake of a closer attainment and realization of truth. How then
can the manifestations of truth disappear through our realizing
it? These manifestations will be different, higher, better, but
they will not cease to be. Only what is false in them will be
destroyed; all the truth there was in them will only be stronger
and more flourishing.
Take thought, oh, men, and have faith in the Gospel, in whose
teaching is your happiness. If you do not take thought, you will
perish just as the men perished, slain by Pilate, or crushed by
the tower of Siloam; as millions of men have perished, slayers and
slain, executing and executed, torturers and tortured alike, and
as the man foolishly perished, who filled his granaries full and
made ready for a long life and died the very night that he planned
to begin his life. Take thought and have faith in the Gospel,
Christ said eighteen hundred years ago, and he says it with even
greater force now that the calamities foretold by him have come to
pass, and the senselessness of our life has reached the furthest
point of suffering and madness.
Nowadays, after so many centuries of fruitless efforts to make our
life secure by the pagan organization of life, it must be evident
to everyone that all efforts in that direction only introduce
fresh dangers into personal and social life, and do not render it
more secure in any way.
Whatever names we dignify ourselves with, whatever uniforms we
wear, whatever priests we anoint ourselves before, however many
millions we possess, however many guards are stationed along our
road, however many policemen guard our wealth, however many so-called criminals, revolutionists, and anarchists we punish,
whatever exploits we have performed, whatever states we may have
founded, fortresses and towers we may have erected—from Babel to
the Eiffel Tower—there are two inevitable conditions of life,
confronting all of us, which destroy its whole meaning; (1) death,
which may at any moment pounce upon each of us; and (2) the
transitoriness of all our works, which so soon pass away and leave
no trace. Whatever we may do—found companies, build palaces and
monuments, write songs and poems—it is all not for long time.
Soon it passes away, leaving no trace. And therefore, however we
may conceal it from ourselves, we cannot help seeing that the
significance of our life cannot lie in our personal fleshly
existence, the prey of incurable suffering and inevitable death,
nor in any social institution or organization. Whoever you may be
who are reading these lines, think of your position and of your
duties—not of your position as landowner, merchant, judge,
emperor, president, minister, priest, soldier, which has been
temporarily allotted you by men, and not of the imaginary duties
laid on you by those positions, but of your real positions in
eternity as a creature who at the will of Someone has been called
out of unconsciousness after an eternity of non-existence to which
you may return at any moment at his will. Think of your duties—
not your supposed duties as a landowner to your estate, as a
merchant to your business, as emperor, minister, or official to
the state, but of your real duties, the duties that follow from
your real position as a being called into life and endowed with
reason and love.
Are you doing what he demands of you who has sent you into the
world, and to whom you will soon return? Are you doing what he
wills? Are you doing his will, when as landowner or manufacturer
you rob the poor of the fruits of their toil, basing your life on
this plunder of the workers, or when, as judge or governor, you
ill treat men, sentence them to execution, or when as soldiers you
prepare for war, kill and plunder?
You will say that the world is so made that this is inevitable,
and that you do not do this of your own free will, but because you
are forced to do so. But can it be that you have such a strong
aversion to men’s sufferings, ill treatment, and murder, that you
have such an intense need of love and co-operation with your
fellows that you see clearly that only by the recognition of the
equality of all, and by mutual services, can the greatest possible
happiness be realized; that your head and your heart, the faith
you profess, and even science itself tell you the same thing, and
yet that in spite of it all you can be forced by some confused and
complicated reasoning to act in direct opposition to all this;
that as landowner or capitalist you are bound to base your whole
life on the oppression of the people; that as emperor or president
you are to command armies, that is, to be the head and commander
of murderers; or that as government official you are forced to
take from the poor their last pence for rich men to profit and
share them among themselves; or that as judge or juryman you could
be forced to sentence erring men to ill treatment and death
because the truth was not revealed to them, or above all, for that
is the basis of all the evil, that you could be forced to become a
soldier, and renouncing your free will and your human sentiments,
could undertake to kill anyone at the command of other men?
It cannot be.
Even if you are told that all this is necessary for the
maintenance of the existing order of things, and that this social
order with its pauperism, famines, prisons, gallows, armies, and
wars is necessary to society; that still greater disasters would
ensue if this organization were destroyed; all that is said only
by those who profit by this organization, while those who suffer
from it—and they are ten times as numerous—think and say quite
the contrary. And at the bottom of your heart you know yourself
that it is not true, that the existing organization has outlived
its time, and must inevitably be reconstructed on new principles,
and that consequently there is no obligation upon
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