I awoke with difficulty from a mighty sleep in which I had so many dreams.—My head was heavier than lead, worse than sometimes happens to drunks with a hangover after spending a week or so on a binge. I was in no condition to continue my trip and be shaken up on wooden axles (my carriage did not have springs). I got out a book of household remedies, searched whether there might be a recipe for headache caused by delirium in sleep and in a waking state. Although medication always traveled with me just in case, it was according to the proverb “each wise man has his share of foolishness”: I was not forearmed against delirium, which is why my head, when I arrived at the postal station, was in worse shape than a wig stand.
I remembered that in the old days my nanny of blessed memory, Klementevna, Praskovya by name and therefore called Friday,35 was a coffee lover and used to say that it gave relief from the headache. “If I drink about five cups,” she used to say, “I then see the light, but without it I would die within three days.”
I set about getting nanny’s medicine, but not having the habit of drinking at once five cups or so, I offered the leftovers of what had been prepared for me to a young man who sat on the same bench albeit in a different corner by the window. “I thank you in earnest,” he said, having taken the coffee cup.—His amicable look, plucky glance, polite bearing, it seemed, did not go with the long demi-caftan and hair slicked down with kvass. Pardon me, reader, for my conclusion, I was born and grew up in the capital, and if someone is not curly-haired and powdered then I reckon him to be a nonentity. If you are a country bumpkin yourself and do not powder your hair do not blame me if I were to walk past you and not even look.
My conversation with my new acquaintance about this and that settled down. I learned that he was from a seminary in Novgorod and was on foot to Petersburg to pay a visit to an uncle, who worked as a clerk in the administration of the province. His main aim, though, was to find an opportunity for acquiring learning. “Our store of means to enlightenment is deeply inadequate,” he said to me. “A knowledge of the Latin language on its own is unable to satisfy the mind’s reason for learning. I know practically by heart Virgil, Horace, Livy, even Tacitus, but when I compare the knowledge of seminarians with what I have had the chance to learn thanks to good fortune I consider our school to be a relic of past centuries. We are familiar with all the classical authors, but we better understand critical commentaries of texts than know what at present makes them pleasant, what has secured eternity for them. We are taught philosophy, we study logic, metaphysics, ethics, theology, but to cite the words of Kuteikin in The Minor: let us complete our philosophical education and start all over again.36 No surprise in this: Aristotle and Scholasticism to the present day reign supreme in seminaries. I, to my good fortune, being a familiar in the house of one functionary of the provincial administration in Novgorod, had the opportunity there to acquire a smatter of learning in the French and German languages and used the books of the owner of that house. What a difference in enlightenment between times when the Latin language exclusively was used in schools and the present period! What an aid to learning when knowledge is taught in the national language and are mysteries open only to initiates in the Latin language! But why,” he continued after an interruption of his speech, “why have we not established institutions of higher learning in which the sciences are taught in the vernacular, in Russian? Learning would be more intelligible to all; enlightenment would be attained all the more quickly; and after a generation, for each Latinist you would have two hundred enlightened people. At the very least, in every tribunal you would have perhaps at least one member who understands what jurisprudence or legal education is. My God!” he continued with an exclamation, “if it were possible to adduce examples from the reflections and ravings of our judges about cases! What would Grotius, Montesquieu, Blackstone say?”37 “You’ve read Blackstone?” “I read the first two parts that were translated into Russian. It would do no harm to compel our judges to have this book instead of the calendar of saints and to compel them to take a peek at it more often than at the court almanac.38 How not to regret,” he repeated, “that we do not have educational establishments where the sciences are taught in the vernacular language.”
The stationmaster disturbed the continuation of our conversation when he came in. I managed to tell the seminarian that his wish would soon be fulfilled, that there was already a decree about the establishment of new universities where the sciences were going to be taught as he would wish. “High time, Sir, high time….”
While I was paying the stationmaster the travel allowance, the seminarian walked out. As he left he dropped a small bunch of paper. I picked up what had fallen and did not hand it to him. Do not accuse me, dear reader, of theft: on that condition, I shall inform you what I filched. Once you do read it I know for sure that you will not then reveal my theft to the outside world. For as is written in the Russian law, the thief is not only the one who stole but also the one who did the accepting. I confess that I have sticky fingers. Where I see something that looks a little reasonable I immediately swipe it.—Look, do not leave your ideas lying about. Read what my seminarian says:
“The person who likened the moral world to a wheel—this is a person who, in speaking a great truth, did perhaps no more than glance at the round image of the earth and other great bodies circulating in space and express only what he saw. When mortals advance the knowledge of the physical universe, they will perhaps discover the hidden connection of spiritual or moral entities with corporeal or natural entities; that the cause of all changes, transformations, vicissitudes of the moral or spiritual world depends, perhaps, on the rounded form of our habitation and other bodies that belong to the solar system that just like it are circular and revolve….” This resembles a follower of Saint-Martin,39 a pupil of Swedenborg….40 No, my friend! I do not drink and eat only in order to survive but because I find in eating and drinking no small pleasure for the senses. And I must confess to you like a spiritual father: I would rather spend an entire night with a most enticing girl and fall asleep in her arms sated by voluptuousness than after burying myself in Hebrew or Arabic letters, ciphers, or Egyptian hieroglyphs, attempt to separate my spirit from body and, like the spiritual knights, modern and ancient, prowl in the vast fields of mental ravings. When I die there will be plenty of time for the imperceptible and my little soul can wander all it likes.
Look back: it seems that the time is only just behind us when superstition together with its full complement reigned: ignorance, slavery, the Inquisition, and much else. It was not long ago, was it, that Voltaire railed against superstition till he was hoarse; it was not long ago that Frederick was its implacable enemy not only in word and deed but more worryingly for it by way of his sovereign example.41 However, in this world everything reverts to its previous stage since everything has its origin in destruction. An animal, a plant, grows in order to produce others like it, then to die and cede them its place. Nomadic tribes gather in cities, establish kingdoms, grow strong, become famous, grow weak, falter, fall apart. Their dwellings disappear; even their names will perish. Initially, Christian society was humble, meek, cloistered away in deserts and caves; then it gained strength, reared its head, lost its way, succumbed to superstition. In this state of frenzy, it followed a path typical of peoples: it elevated a leader, expanded his authority, and the Pope became the most powerful of kings. Luther began the Reformation, launched a schism, seceded from the Pope’s leadership, and had many followers. The edifice of prejudices about papal power began to crumble, and superstition began to disappear; truth found enthusiasts, trampled on the enormous stronghold of prejudice but lasted only briefly on this path. Freedom of thought turned into a lack of restraint. Nothing was sacred, everything was under threat. Having reached a possible extreme, freethinking drew back. Our age faces a change in the manner of thinking. While we have not yet reached the final frontier of unbounded freethinking, many are already beginning to turn to superstition. Open the most recent occult works, you will think you have returned to the age of Scholasticism and logical disputes, when human reason was concerned with locutions and gave no thought to whether there was any sense in the locution; when the task of philosophy was, and when seekers of truth were asked to ponder the question: how many souls could fit on the head of a pin?
If delusion lies ahead for our descendants; if, in giving up to the system of nature they set about chasing after chimeras, then there would be great utility in the work of the writer who could show from previous activities the progress of human reason when, once the fog of prejudice was dispelled, it began to pursue truth to its heights; and when, wearied by its period of vigor, so to speak, once again began to dissipate its strength, grow tired, and decline into the vapidness of prejudice and superstition. The work of this writer will not be useless, for in exposing the course of our thoughts toward truth or delusion it will head off at least a few people from a dangerous path and hamper the rise of ignorance. Blessed is the writer if he is able to enlighten even one person through his creation, blessed is he if he has sown virtue in even a single heart.
We can call ourselves fortunate not to be witness to the extreme disgrace of rational beings. Our immediate descendants might be even luckier than we. But having lain dormant in the loathsomeness of filth, vapors are already floating up and are predestined to shroud the field of vision. Blessed shall we be if we do not see a new Mahomet; the hour of error will become more distant. Know that when in our speculations, when in our judgments about moral and spiritual matters, a ferment begins and a resolute man arises, one enterprising in the service of truth or deception, that is the time when a change in kingdoms will follow, when there will be a change in religious confessions.
On the ladder down whereby human reason is obliged to decline into the murk of error, if we can reveal anything that is funny and do a good deed with a smile, we shall then be considered as blessed.
In wandering from speculation to speculation, O beloved ones, take care not to enter onto a path of investigation like the following.
Akibah42 relates: “Having entered on the path of Rabbi Jehoshua to a clandestine place, I had a triple recognition. I learned firstly: one is bidden to turn not to the east and not to the west but to the north and south. I learned, secondly, one should defecate not standing on one’s feet but seated. I learned thirdly: one should wipe one’s behind not with the right hand but with the left.” To this Ben Gazas objected: “How far have you brought disgrace on your own head when you looked at your teacher in the act of defecating?” He answered: “These are the mysteries of the law; and it was to recognize them that I had to act in this way.”
See Bayle’s Dictionary, article Akibah.43
