Part Five: Chapter 1

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Princess Shtcherbatskaya considered that it was out of thequestion for the wedding to take place before Lent, just fiveweeks off, since not half the trousseau could possibly be readyby that time. But she could not but agree with Levin that to fixit for after Lent would be putting it off too late, as an oldaunt of Prince Shtcherbatsky's was seriously ill and might die,and then the mourning would delay the wedding still longer. Andtherefore, deciding to divide the trousseau into two parts--alarger and smaller trousseau--the princess consented to have thewedding before Lent. She determined that she would get thesmaller part of the trousseau all ready now, and the larger partshould be made later, and she was much vexed with Levin becausehe was incapable of giving her a serious answer to the questionwhether he agreed to this arrangement or not. The arrangementwas the more suitable as, immediately after the wedding, theyoung people were to go to the country, where the more importantpart of the trousseau would not be wanted.

　　Levin still continued in the same delirious condition in which itseemed to him that he and his happiness constituted the chief andsole aim of all existence, and that he need not now think or careabout anything, that everything was being done and would be donefor him by others. He had not even plans and aims for thefuture, he left its arrangement to others, knowing thateverything would be delightful. His brother Sergey Ivanovitch,Stepan Arkadyevitch, and the princess guided him in doing what hehad to do. All he did was to agree entirely with everythingsuggested to him. His brother raised money for him, the princessadvised him to leave Moscow after the wedding. StepanArkadyevitch advised him to go abroad. He agreed to everything."Do what you choose, if it amuses you. I'm happy, and myhappiness can be no greater and no less for anything you do," hethought. When he told Kitty of Stepan Arkadyevitch's advice thatthey should go abroad, he was much surprised that she did notagree to this, and had some definite requirements of her own inregard to their future. She knew Levin had work he loved in thecountry. She did not, as he saw, understand this work, she didnot even care to understand it. But that did not prevent herfrom regarding it as a matter of great importance. And then sheknew their home would be in the country, and she wanted to go,not abroad where she was not going to live, but to the placewhere their home would be. This definitely expressed purposeastonished Levin. But since he did not care either way, heimmediately asked Stepan Arkadyevitch, as though it were hisduty, to go down to the country and to arrange everything thereto the best of his ability with the taste of which he had somuch.

　　"But I say," Stepan Arkadyevitch said to him one day after he hadcome back from the country, where he had got everything ready forthe young people's arrival, "have you a certificate of havingbeen at confession?"

　　"No. But what of it?"

　　"You can't be married without it."

　　"Aie, aie, aie!" cried Levin. "Why, I believe it's nine yearssince I've taken the sacrament! I never thought of it."

　　"You're a pretty fellow!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch laughing, "andyou call me a Nihilist! But this won't do, you know. You musttake the sacrament."

　　"When? There are four days left now."

　　Stepan Arkadyevitch arranged this also, and Levin had to go toconfession. To Levin, as to any unbeliever who respects thebeliefs of others, it was exceedingly disagreeable to be presentat and take part in church ceremonies. At this moment, in hispresent softened state of feeling, sensitive to everything, thisinevitable act of hypocrisy was not merely painful to Levin, itseemed to him utterly impossible. Now, in the heyday of hishighest glory, his fullest flower, he would have to be a liar ora scoffer. He felt incapable of being either. But though herepeatedly plied Stepan Arkadyevitch with questions as to thepossibility of obtaining a certificate without actuallycommunicating, Stepan Arkadyevitch maintained that it was out ofthe question.

　　"Besides, what is it to you--two days? And he's an awfully niceclever old fellow. He'll pull the tooth out for you so gently,you won't notice it."

　　Standing at the first litany, Levin attempted to revive inhimself his youthful recollections of the intense religiousemotion he had passed through between the ages of sixteen andseventeen.

　　But he was at once convinced that it was utterly impossible tohim. He attempted to look at it all as an empty custom, havingno sort of meaning, like the custom of paying calls. But he feltthat he could not do that either. Levin found himself, like themajority of his contemporaries, in the vaguest position in regardto religion. Believe he could not, and at the same time he hadno firm conviction that it was all wrong. And consequently, notbeing able to believe in the significance of what he was doingnor to regard it with indifference as an empty formality, duringthe whole period of preparing for the sacrament he was consciousof a feeling of discomfort and shame at doing what he did nothimself understand, and what, as an inner voice told him, wastherefore false and wrong.

　　During the service he would first listen to the prayers, tryingto attach some meaning to them not discordant with his own views;then feeling that he could not understand and must condemn them,he tried not to listen to them, but to attend to the thoughts,observations, and memories which floated through his brain withextreme vividness during this idle time of standing in church.

　　He had stood through the litany, the evening service and themidnight service, and the next day he got up earlier than usual,and without having tea went at eight o'clock in the morning tothe church for the morning service and the confession.

　　There was no one in the church but a beggar soldier, two oldwomen, and the church officials. A young deacon, whose long backshowed in two distinct halves through his thin undercassock, methim, and at once going to a little table at the wall read theexhortation. During the reading, especially at the frequent andrapid repetition of the same words, "Lord, have mercy on us!"which resounded with an echo, Levin felt that thought was shutand sealed up, and that it must not be touched or stirred now orconfusion would be the result; and so standing behind the deaconhe went on thinking of his own affairs, neither listening norexamining what was said. "It's wonderful what expression thereis in her hand," he thought, remembering how they had beensitting the day before at a corner table. They had nothing totalk about, as was almost always the case at this time, andlaying her hand on the table she kept opening and shutting it,and laughed herself as she watched her action. He remembered howhe had kissed it and then had examined the lines on the pinkpalm. "Have mercy on us again!" thought Levin, crossing himself,bowing, and looking at the supple spring of the deacon's backbowing before him. "She took my hand then and examined the lines'You've got a splendid hand,' she said." And he looked at his ownhand and the short hand of the deacon. "Yes, now it will soon beover," he thought. "No, it seems to be beginning again," hethought, listening to the prayers. "No, it's just ending: therehe is bowing down to the ground. That's always at the end."

　　The deacon's hand in a plush cuff accepted a three-rouble noteunobtrusively, and the deacon said he would put it down in theregister, and his new boots creaking jauntily over the flagstonesof the empty church, he went to the altar. A moment later hepeeped out thence and beckoned to Levin. Thought, till thenlocked up, began to stir in Levin's head, but he made haste todrive it away. "It will come right somehow," he thought, andwent towards the altar-rails. He went up the steps, and turningto the right saw the priest. The priest, a little old man with ascanty grizzled beard and weary, good-natured eyes, was standingat the altar-rails, turning over the pages of a missal. With aslight bow to Levin he began immediately reading prayers in theofficial voice. When he had finished them he bowed down to theground and turned, facing Levin.

　　"Christ is present here unseen, receiving your confession," hesaid, pointing to the crucifix. "Do you believe in all thedoctrines of the Holy Apostolic Church?" the priest went on,turning his eyes away from Levin's face and folding his handsunder his stole.

　　"I have doubted, I doubt everything," said Levin in a voice thatjarred on himself, and he ceased speaking.

　　The priest waited a few seconds to see if he would not say more,and closing his eyes he said quickly, with a broad, Vladimirskyaccent:

　　"Doubt is natural to the weakness of mankind, but we must praythat God in His mercy will strengthen us. What are your specialsins?" he added, without the slightest interval, as thoughanxious not to waste time.

　　"My chief sin is doubt. I have doubts of everything, and for themost part I am in doubt."

　　"Doubt is natural to the weakness of mankind," the priestrepeated the same words. "What do you doubt about principally?"

　　"I doubt of everything. I sometimes even have doubts of theexistence of God," Levin could not help saying, and he washorrified at the impropriety of what he was saying. But Levin'swords did not, it seemed, make much impression on the priest.

　　"What sort of doubt can there be of the existence of God?" hesaid hurriedly, with a just perceptible smile.

　　Levin did not speak.

　　"What doubt can you have of the Creator when you behold Hiscreation?" the priest went on in the rapid customary jargon."Who has decked the heavenly firmament with its lights? Who hasclothed the earth in its beauty? How explain it without theCreator?" he said, looking inquiringly at Levin.

　　Levin felt that it would be improper to enter upon a metaphysicaldiscussion with the priest, and so he said in reply merely whatwas a direct answer to the question.

　　"I don't know," he said.

　　"You don't know! Then how can you doubt that God created all?"the priest said, with good-humored perplexity.

　　"I don't understand it at all," said Levin, blushing, and feelingthat his words were stupid, and that they could not be anythingbut stupid n such a position.

　　"Pray to God and beseech Him. Even the holy fathers had doubts,and prayed to God to strengthen their faith. The devil has greatpower, and we must resist him. Pray to God, beseech Him. Prayto God," he repeated hurriedly.

　　The priest paused for some time, as though meditating.

　　"You're about, I hear, to marry the daughter of my parishionerand son in the spirit, Prince Shtcherbatsky?" he resumed, with asmile. "An excellent young lady."

　　"Yes," answered Levin, blushing for the priest. "What does hewant to ask me about this at confession for?" he thought.

　　And, as though answering his thought, the priest said to him:

　　"You are about to enter into holy matrimony, and God may blessyou with offspring. Well, what sort of bringing-up can you giveyour babes if you do not overcome the temptation of the devil,enticing you to infidelity?" he said, with gentlereproachfulness. "If you love your child as a good father, youwill not desire only wealth, luxury, honor for your infant; youwill be anxious for his salvation, his spiritual enlightenmentwith the light of truth. Eh? What answer will you make him whenthe innocent babe asks you: 'Papa! who made all that enchants mein this world--the earth; the waters, the sun, the flowers, thegrass?' Can you say to him: 'I don't know'? You cannot but know,since the Lord God in His infinite mercy has revealed it to us.Or your child will ask you: 'What awaits me in the life beyondthe tomb?' What will you say to him when you know nothing? Howwill you answer him? Will you leave him to the allurements ofthe world and the devil? That's not right," he said, and hestopped, putting his head on one side and looking at Levin withhis kindly, gentle eyes.

　　Levin made no answer this time, not because he did not want toenter upon a discussion with the priest, but because, so far, noone had ever asked him such questions, and when his babes did askhim those questions, it would be time enough to think aboutanswering them.

　　"You are entering upon a time of life," pursued the priest, "whenyou must choose your path and keep to it. Pray to God that Hemay in His mercy aid you and have mercy on you!" he concluded."Our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, in the abundance and riches ofHis lovingkindness, forgives this child..." and, finishing theprayer of absolution, the priest blessed him and dismissed him.

　　On getting home that day, Levin had a delightful sense of reliefat the awkward position being over and having been got throughwithout his having to tell a lie. Apart from this, thereremained a vague memory that what the kind, nice old fellow hadsaid had not been at all so stupid as he had fancied at first,and that there was something in it that must be cleared up.

　　"Of course, not now," thought Levin, "but some day later on."Levin felt more than ever now that there was something not clearand not clean in his soul, and that, in regard to religion, hewas in the same position which he perceived so clearly anddisliked in others, and for which he blamed his friend Sviazhsky.

　　Levin spent that evening with his betrothed at Dolly's, and wasin very high spirits. To explain to Stepan Arkadyevitch thestate of excitement in which he found himself, he said that hewas happy like a dog being trained to jump through a hoop, who,having at last caught the idea, and done what was required ofhim, whines and wags its tail, and jumps up to the table and thewindows in its delight.