Part Eight: Chapter 15

by Leo Tolstoy

　　"Do you know, Kostya, with whom Sergey Ivanovitch traveled on hisway here?" said Dolly, doling out cucumbers and honey to thechildren; "with Vronsky! He's going to Servia."

　　"And not alone; he's taking a squadron out with him at his ownexpense," said Katavasov.

　　"That's the right thing for him," said Levin. "Are volunteersstill going out then?" he added, glancing at Sergey Ivanovitch.

　　Sergey Ivanovitch did not answer. He was carefully with a bluntknife getting a live bee covered with sticky honey out of a cupfull of white honeycomb.

　　"I should think sol You should have seen what was going on at thestation yesterday!" said Katavasov, biting with a juicy soundinto a cucumber.

　　"Well, what is one to make of it? For mercy's sake, do explainto me, Sergey Ivanovitch, where are all those volunteers going,whom are they fighting with?" asked the old prince, unmistakablytaking up a conversation that had sprung up in Levin's absence.

　　"With the Turks," Sergey Ivanovitch answered, smiling serenely,as he extricated the bee, dark with honey and helplessly kicking,and put it with the knife on a stout aspen leaf.

　　"But who has declared war on the Turks?--Ivan Ivanovitch Ragozovand Countess Lidia Ivanovna, assisted by Madame Stahl?"

　　"No one has declared war, but people sympathize with theirneighbors' sufferings and are eager to help them," said SergeyIvanovitch.

　　"But the prince is not speaking of help," said Levin, coming tothe assistance of his father-in-law, "but of war. The princesays that private persons cannot take part in war without thepermission of the government."

　　"Kostya, mind, that's a bee! Really, they'll sting us!" saidDolly, waving away a wasp.

　　"But that's not a bee, it's a wasp," said Levin.

　　"Well now, well, what's your own theory?" Katavasov said to Levinwith a smile, distinctly challenging him to a discussion. "Whyhave not private persons the right to do so?"

　　"Oh, my theory's this: war is on one side such a beastly, cruel,and awful thing, that no one man, not to speak of a Christian,can individually take upon himself the responsibility ofbeginning wars; that can only be done by a government, which iscalled upon to do this, and is driven inevitably into war. Onthe other hand, both political science and common sense teach usthat in matters of state, and especially in the matter of war,private citizens must forego their personal individual

　　Sergey Ivanovitch and Katavasov had their replies ready, and bothbegan speaking at the same time.

　　"But the point is, my dear fellow, that there may be cases whenthe government does not carry out the will of the citizens andthen the public asserts its will," said Katavasov.

　　But evidently Sergey Ivanovitch did not approve of this answer.His brows contracted at Katavasov's words and he said somethingelse.

　　"You don't put the matter in its true light. There is noquestion here of a declaration of war, but simply the expressionof a human Christian feeling. Our brothers, one with us inreligion and in race, are being massacred. Even supposing theywere not our brothers nor fellow- Christians, but simplychildren, women, old people, feeling is aroused and Russians goeagerly to help in stopping these atrocities. Fancy, if you weregoing along the street and saw drunken men beating a woman or achild--I imagine you would not stop to inquire whether war hadbeen declared on the men, but would throw yourself on them, andprotect the victim."

　　"But I should not kill them," said Levin.

　　"Yes, you would kill them."

　　"I don't know. If I saw that, I might give way to my impulse ofthe moment, but I can't say beforehand. And such a momentaryimpulse there is not, and there cannot be, in the case of theoppression of the Slavonic peoples."

　　"Possibly for you there is not; but for others there is," saidSergey Ivanovitch, frowning with displeasure. "There aretraditions still extant among the people of Slavs of the truefaith suffering under the yoke of the 'unclean sons of Hagar.'The people have heard of the sufferings of their brethren andhave spoken."

　　"Perhaps so," said Levin evasively; "but I don't see it. I'm oneof the people myself, and I don't feel it."

　　"Here am I too," said the old prince. "I've been staying abroadand reading the papers, and I must own, up to the time of theBulgarian atrocities, I couldn't make out why it was all theRussians were all of a sudden so fond of their Slavonic brethren,while I didn't feel the slightest affection for them. I was verymuch upset, thought I was a monster, or that it was the influenceof Carlsbad on me. But since I have been here, my mind's beenset at rest. I see that there are people besides me who're onlyinterested in Russia, and not in their Slavonic brethren. Here'sKonstantin too."

　　"Personal opinions mean nothing in such a case," said SergeyIvanovitch; "it's not a matter of personal opinions when allRussia--the whole people--has expressed its will."

　　"But excuse me, I don't see that. The people don't know anythingabout it, if you come to that," said the old prince.

　　"Oh, papa!...how can you say that? And last Sunday in church?"said Dolly, listening to the conversation. "Please give me acloth," she said to the old man, who was looking at the childrenwith a smile. "Why, it's not possible that all..."

　　"But what was it in church on Sunday? The priest had been toldto read that. He read it. They didn't understand a word of it.Then they were told that there was to be a collection for a piousobject in church; well, they pulled out their halfpence and gavethem, but what for they couldn't say."

　　"The people cannot help knowing; the sense of their own destiniesis always in the people, and at such moments as the present thatsense finds utterance," said Sergey Ivanovitch with conviction,glancing at the old bee-keeper.

　　The handsome old man, with black grizzled beard and thick silveryhair, stood motionless, holding a cup of honey, looking down fromthe height of his tall figure with friendly serenity at thegentlefolk, obviously understanding nothing of their conversationand not caring to understand it.

　　"That's so, no doubt," he said, with a significant shake of hishead at Sergey Ivanovitch's words.

　　"Here, then, ask him. He knows nothing about it and thinksnothing," said Levin. "Have you heard about the war, Mihalitch?"he said, turning to him. "What they read in the church? What doyou think about it? Ought we to fight for the Christians?"

　　"What should we think? Alexander Nikolaevitch our Emperor hasthought for us; he thinks for us indeed in all things. It'sclearer for hint to see. Shall I bring a bit more bread? Givethe little lad some more?" he said addressing Darya Alexandrovnaand pointing to Grisha, who had finished his crust.

　　"I don't need to ask," said Sergey Ivanovitch, "we have seen andare seeing hundreds and hundreds of people who give up everythingto sense a just cause, come from every part of Russia, anddirectly and clearly express their thought and aim. They bringtheir halfpence or go themselves and say directly what for. Whatdoes it mean?"

　　"It means, to my thinking," said Levin, who was beginning to getwarm, "that among eighty millions of people there can always befound not hundreds, as now, but tens of thousands of people whohave lost caste, ne'er-do-wells, who are always ready to goanywhere--to Pogatchev's bands, to Khiva, to Serbia..."

　　"I tell you that it's not a case of hundreds or ofne'er-do-wells, but the best representatives of the people!" saidSergey Ivanovitch, with as much irritation as if he weredefending the last penny of his fortune. "And what of thesubscriptions? In this case it is a whole people directlyexpressing their will."

　　"That word 'people' is so vague," said Levin. "Parish clerks,teachers, and one in a thousand of the peasants, maybe, know whatit's all about. The rest of the eighty millions, like Mihalitch,far from expressing their will, haven't the faintest idea whatthere is for them to express their will about. What right havewe to say that this is the people's will?"