Resurrection by Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy (i love reading .TXT) 📖
- Author: Leo Nikoleyevich Tolstoy
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foreman smiled more and more joyfully, priding himself on his
wife’s culinary skill. After dinner, Nekhludoff succeeded, with
some trouble, in making the foreman sit down. In order to revise
his own thoughts, and to express them to some one, he explained
his project of letting the land to the peasants, and asked the
foreman for his opinion. The foreman, smiling as if he had
thought all this himself long ago, and was very pleased to hear
it, did not really understand it at all. This was not because
Nekhludoff did not express himself clearly, but because according
to this project it turned out that Nekhludoff was giving up his
own profit for the profit of others, and the thought that every
one is only concerned about his own profit, to the harm of
others, was so deeply rooted in the foreman’s conceptions that he
imagined he did not understand something when Nekhludoff said
that all the income from the land must be placed to form the
communal capital of the peasants.
“Oh, I see; then you, of course, will receive the percentages
from that capital,” said the foreman, brightening up.
“Dear me! no. Don’t you see, I am giving up the land altogether.”
“But then you will not get any income,” said the foreman, smiling
no longer.
“Yes, I am going to give it up.”
The foreman sighed heavily, and then began smiling again. Now he
understood. He understood that Nekhludoff was not quite normal,
and at once began to consider how he himself could profit by
Nekhludoff’s project of giving up the land, and tried to see this
project in such a way that he might reap some advantage from it.
But when he saw that this was impossible he grew sorrowful, and
the project ceased to interest him, and he continued to smile
only in order to please the master.
Seeing that the foreman did not understand him, Nekhludoff let
him go and sat down by the windowsill, that was all cut about
and inked over, and began to put his project down on paper.
The sun went down behind the limes, that were covered with fresh
green, and the mosquitoes swarmed in, stinging Nekhludoff. Just
as he finished his notes, he heard the lowing of cattle and the
creaking of opening gates from the village, and the voices of the
peasants gathering together for the meeting. He told the foreman
not to call the peasants up to the office, as he meant to go into
the village himself and meet the men where they would assemble.
Having hurriedly drank a cup of tea offered him by the foreman,
Nekhludoff went to the village.
CHAPTER VII.
THE DISINHERITED.
From the crowd assembled in front of the house of the village
elder came the sound of voices; but as soon as Nekhludoff came up
the talking ceased, and all the peasants took off their caps,
just as those in Kousminski had done. The peasants here were of a
much poorer class than those in Kousminski. The men wore shoes
made of bark and homespun shirts and coats. Some had come
straight from their work in their shirts and with bare feet.
Nekhludoff made an effort, and began his speech by telling the
peasants of his intention to give up his land to them altogether.
The peasants were silent, and the expression on their faces did
not undergo any change.
“Because I hold,” said Nekhludoff, “and believe that every one
has a right to the use of the land.”
“That’s certain. That’s so, exactly,” said several voices.
Nekhludoff went on to say that the revenue from the land ought to
be divided among all, and that he would therefore suggest that
they should rent the land at a price fixed by themselves, the
rent to form a communal fund for their own use. Words of approval
and agreement were still to be heard, but the serious faces of
the peasants grew still more serious, and the eyes that had been
fixed on the gentleman dropped, as if they were unwilling to put
him to shame by letting him see that every one had understood his
trick, and that no one would be deceived by him.
Nekhludoff spoke clearly, and the peasants were intelligent, but
they did not and could not understand him, for the same reason
that the foreman had so long been unable to understand him.
They were fully convinced that it is natural for every man to
consider his own interest. The experience of many generations had
proved to them that the landlords always considered their own
interest to the detriment of the peasants. Therefore, if a
landlord called them to a meeting and made them some kind of a
new offer, it could evidently only be in order to swindle them
more cunningly than before.
“Well, then, what are you willing to rent the land at?” asked
Nekhludoff.
“How can we fix a price? We cannot do it. The land is yours, and
the power is in your hands,” answered some voices from among the
crowd.
“Oh, not at all. You will yourselves have the use of the money
for communal purposes.”
“We cannot do it; the commune is one thing, and this is another.”
“Don’t you understand?” said the foreman, with a smile (he had
followed Nekhludoff to the meeting), “the Prince is letting the
land to you for money, and is giving you the money back to form a
capital for the commune.”
“We understand very well,” said a cross, toothless old man,
without raising his eyes. “Something like a bank; we should have
to pay at a fixed time. We do not wish it; it is hard enough as
it is, and that would ruin us completely.”
“That’s no go. We prefer to go on the old way,” began several
dissatisfied, and even rude, voices.
The refusals grew very vehement when Nekhludoff mentioned that he
would draw up an agreement which would have to be signed by him
and by them.
“Why sign? We shall go on working as we have done hitherto. What
is all this for? We are ignorant men.”
“We can’t agree, because this sort of thing is not what we have
been used to. As it was, so let it continue to be. Only the seeds
we should like to withdraw.”
This meant that under the present arrangement the seeds had to be
provided by the peasants, and they wanted the landlord to provide
them.
“Then am I to understand that you refuse to accept the land?”
Nekhludoff asked, addressing a middleaged, barefooted peasant,
with a tattered coat, and a bright look on his face, who was
holding his worn cap with his left hand, in a peculiarly straight
position, in the same way soldiers hold theirs when commanded to
take them off.
“Just so,” said this peasant, who had evidently not yet rid
himself of the military hypnotism he had been subjected to while
serving his time.
“It means that you have sufficient land,” said Nekhludoff.
“No, sir, we have not,” said the ex-soldier, with an artificially
pleased look, carefully holding his tattered cap in front of him,
as if offering it to any one who liked to make use of it.
“Well, anyhow, you’d better think over what I have said.”
Nekhludoff spoke with surprise, and again repeated his offer.
“We have no need to think about it; as we have said, so it will
be,” angrily muttered the morose, toothless old man.
“I shall remain here another day, and if you change your minds,
send to let me know.”
The peasants gave no answer.
So Nekhludoff did not succeed in arriving at any result from this
interview.
“If I might make a remark, Prince,” said the foreman, when they
got home, “you will never come to any agreement with them; they
are so obstinate. At a meeting these people just stick in one
place, and there is no moving them. It is because they are
frightened of everything. Why, these very peasants—say that
white-haired one, or the dark one, who were refusing, are
intelligent peasants. When one of them comes to the office and
one makes him sit down to cup of tea it’s like in the Palace of
Wisdom—he is quite diplomatist,” said the foreman, smiling; “he
will consider everything rightly. At a meeting it’s a different
man—he keeps repeating one and the same …”
“Well, could not some of the more intelligent men he asked to
come here?” said Nekhludoff. “I would carefully explain it to
them.”
“That can he done,” said the smiling foreman.
“Well, then, would you mind calling them here tomorrow?”
“Oh, certainly I will,” said the foreman, and smiled still more
joyfully. “I shall call them tomorrow.”
“Just hear him; he’s not artful, not he,” said a blackhaired
peasant, with an unkempt beard, as he sat jolting from side to
side on a well-fed mare, addressing an old man in a torn coat who
rode by his side. The two men were driving a herd of the
peasants’ horses to graze in the night, alongside the highroad
and secretly, in the landlord’s forest.
“Give you the land for nothing—you need only sign—have they not
done the likes of us often enough? No, my friend, none of your
humbug. Nowadays we have a little sense,” he added, and began
shouting at a colt that had strayed.
He stopped his horse and looked round, but the colt had not
remained behind; it had gone into the meadow by the roadside.
“Bother that son of a Turk; he’s taken to getting into the
landowner’s meadows,” said the dark peasant with the unkempt
beard, hearing the cracking of the sorrel stalks that the
neighing colt was galloping over as he came running back from the
scented meadow.
“Do you hear the cracking? We’ll have to send the women folk to
weed the meadow when there’s a holiday,” said the thin peasant
with the torn coat, “or else we’ll blunt our scythes.”
“Sign,” he says. The unkempt man continued giving his opinion of
the landlord’s speech. “‘Sign,’ indeed, and let him swallow you
up.”
“That’s certain,” answered the old man. And then they were
silent, and the tramping of the horses’ feet along the highroad
was the only sound to be heard.
CHAPTER VIII.
GOD’S PEACE IN THE HEART.
When Nekhludoff returned he found that the office had been
arranged as a bedroom for him. A high bedstead, with a feather
bed and two large pillows, had been placed in the room. The bed
was covered with a dark red doublebedded silk quilt, which was
elaborately and finely quilted, and very stiff. It evidently
belonged to the trousseau of the foreman’s wife. The foreman
offered Nekhludoff the remains of the dinner, which the latter
refused, and, excusing himself for the poorness of the fare and
the accommodation, he left Nekhludoff alone.
The peasants’ refusal did not at all bother Nekhludoff. On the
contrary, though at Kousminski his offer had been accepted and he
had even been thanked for it, and here he was met with suspicion
and even enmity, he felt contented and joyful.
It was close and dirty in the office. Nekhludoff went out into
the yard, and was going into the garden, but he remembered: that
night, the window of the maid-servant’s room, the side porch, and
he felt uncomfortable, and did not like to pass the spot
desecrated by guilty memories. He sat down on the doorstep, and
breathing in the warm air, balmy with the strong scent of fresh
birch leaves, he sat for
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