Short Fiction Leo Tolstoy (interesting books to read for teens txt) 📖

“This quite plainly refers to us,” he thought, and read farther. When he had read the whole of the fifth chapter, he became thoughtful. “Do not be angry, don’t commit adultery, bear with evil, love your enemies.⁠ ⁠… Yes, if all men lived so,” he thought, “there would be no need of revolutions.” As he read farther he entered more and more into the spirit of the passages which were quite comprehensible; and the longer he read the more the idea grew on him that something very important was said in that book⁠—something important, simple and touching; something he had never heard before, and which yet seemed to have long been familiar.

“Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever would save his life shall lose it: and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matthew 16:24⁠–⁠26).

“Yes, yes⁠—that is it!” he suddenly exclaimed, with tears in his eyes. “That is just what I wished to do.⁠ ⁠… Yes, I wished just that: just to give my soul, not to keep it safe, but to give it.⁠ ⁠… That is where joy lies⁠—that is life!⁠ ⁠… I have done a great deal for other people’s sake, for the sake of human approbation⁠—not the approbation of the crowd, but for the good opinion of those I respected and loved: Natásha and Dmítry Shelómof. And then I doubted and was agitated. I felt at ease only when I did something my soul demanded⁠—when I wished to give myself, my whole self.”

From that moment Svetlogoúb spent most of his time reading and pondering what he read in that book. This reading not only evoked in him a glow of tender emotion which carried him beyond the conditions in which he found himself, but also evoked an activity of mind such as he had never before experienced. He wondered why people did not all live as they were told to in that book. “After all, to live so, is good not for one only, but for all. We only need live like that, and there will be no sorrow and no want, only blessedness.”

“If only this would end⁠—if only I could be free once more,” he sometimes thought. “After all, they will let me out sooner or later, or send me to penal servitude⁠—no matter which. It is possible to live like that anywhere⁠ ⁠… and I will live so! I can and must live so⁠ ⁠… not to live so is madness!”

One day when he was in that joyous, exalted state, the inspector came into his cell at an unusual hour, and asked him if he was comfortable, or if he wanted anything. Svetlogoúb was surprised, and unable to understand what this change of manner meant. He asked for a packet of cigarettes and some matches, expecting a refusal. But the inspector replied that he would send some at once, and a watchman really brought him a packet of cigarettes and some matches. “Someone has probably interceded for me,” thought Svetlogoúb; and, having lit a cigarette, began to pace up and down the cell, considering what this change might portend.

Next day he was taken up to the court, where he had been several times before. This time, however, he was not examined, but one of the judges, without looking at him, rose from his chair with a paper in his hand. The others also rose. The judge began to read in an unnaturally expressionless voice. Svetlogoúb listened and looked at the judges’ faces. They all avoided looking at him, and listened with a significant and depressed expression on their faces. The document said that Anatole Svetlogoúb, for his participation in Revolutionary activity which had for its aim the overthrow, in the near or more distant future, of the existing Government, was sentenced to be deprived of all his rights, and to death by hanging.

Svetlogoúb listened and understood the words spoken by the official. He noticed the absurdity of the wording, “in the near or more distant future,” and the depriving of a man sentenced to death of all his rights; but he did not in the least understand the significance to himself of what had been read.

Only much later, when he was told that he might go, and was out in the street with a gendarme, did the meaning of the declaration he had just heard begin to dawn upon him.

“That’s not it⁠ ⁠… that’s not it.⁠ ⁠… It can’t be true! It’s absurd!” he said to himself, as he sat in the carriage that was taking him back to prison. He felt so full of vitality that he could not imagine death, could not connect the consciousness of his “I” with death⁠—with the absence of that “I.”

When he returned to his cell he sat down on his bed, and closing his eyes, tried to imagine what awaited him, and could not manage to do so. He could not at all imagine that he would not be, nor that people could wish to kill him. “Me, young, kind, happy, loved by so many,” he thought, remembering his mother’s and Natásha’s affection for him, as well as that of his friends. “And they will kill me, hang me!⁠ ⁠… Who will do it? Why?⁠ ⁠… And then what will there be when I am not?⁠ ⁠… It’s impossible⁠ ⁠…” he said to himself.

The inspector came in. Svetlogoúb did not hear him enter.

“Who is it? What do you want?” asked Svetlogoúb, not recognizing him. “Ah, it’s you!⁠ ⁠… When is it to be?” he asked.

“I do not know,” answered the inspector, and, having stood still for a moment, suddenly began, in an insinuating, gentle voice:

“The priest is here⁠ ⁠… he would like to⁠ ⁠… to prep⁠ ⁠… he would like to see you.”

“I don’t want to⁠—it is unnecessary! I want nothing.⁠ ⁠…