{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3631/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3631","id":"gutenberg_3631","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3631","summary":null,"tags":["Art and science","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Literature","Philosophy","Tolstoy, Leo, graf, 1828-1910 -- Philosophy"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1887 Tomas Y. Crowell \"What to do?\" edition by David\nPrice, email ccx074@pglaf.org\n\n\n\n\n\nON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SCIENCE AND ART--FROM \"WHAT TO DO?\"\n\n\nON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SCIENCE AND ART.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\n. . . {169} The justification of all persons who have freed themselves\nfrom toil is now founded on experimental, positive science.  The\nscientific theory is as follows:--\n\n\"For the study of the laws of life of human societies, there exists but\none indubitable method,--the positive, experimental, critical method\n\n\"Only sociology, founded on biology, founded on all the positive\nsciences, can give us the laws of humanity.  Humanity, or human\ncommunities, are the organisms already prepared, or still in process of\nformation, and which are subservient to all the laws of the evolution of\norganisms.\n\n\"One of the chief of these laws is the variation of destination among the\nportions of the organs.  Some people command, others obey.  If some have\nin superabundance, and others in want, this arises not from the will of\nGod, not because the empire is a form of manifestation of personality,\nbut because in societies, as in organisms, division of labor becomes\nindispensable for life as a whole.  Some people perform the muscular\nlabor in societies; others, the mental labor.\"\n\nUpon this doctrine is founded the prevailing justification of our time.\n\nNot long ago, their reigned in the learned, cultivated world, a moral\nphilosophy, according to which it appeared that every thing which exists\nis reasonable; that there is no such thing as evil or good; and that it\nis unnecessary for man to war against evil, but that it is only necessary\nfor him to display intelligence,--one man in the military service,\nanother in the judicial, another on the violin.  There have been many and\nvaried expressions of human wisdom, and these phenomena were known to the\nmen of the nineteenth century.  The wisdom of Rousseau and of Lessing,\nand Spinoza and Bruno, and all the wisdom of antiquity; but no one man's\nwisdom overrode the crowd.  It was impossible to say even this,--that\nHegel's success was the result of the symmetry of this theory.  There\nwere other equally symmetrical theories,--those of Descartes, Leibnitz,\nFichte, Schopenhauer.  There was but one reason why this doctrine won for\nitself, for a season, the belief of the whole world; and this reason was,\nthat the deductions of that philosophy winked at people's weaknesses.\nThese deductions were summed up in this,--that every thing was\nreasonable, every thing good; and that no one was to blame.\n\nWhen I began my career, Hegelianism was the foundation of every thing.  It\nwas floating in the air; it was expressed in newspaper and periodical\narticles, in historical and judicial lectures, in novels, in treatises,\nin art, in sermons, in conversation.  The man who was not acquainted with\nHegal had no right to speak.  Any one who desired to understand the truth\nstudied Hegel.  Every thing rested on him.  And all at once the forties\npassed, and there was nothing left of him.  There was not even a hint of\nhim, any more than if he had never existed.  And the most amazing thing\nof all was, that Hegelianism did not fall because some one overthrew it\nor destroyed it.  No!  It was the same then as now, but all at once it\nappeared that it was of no use whatever to the learned and cultivated\nworld.\n\nThere was a time when the Hegelian wise men triumphantly instructed the\nmasses; and the crowd, understanding nothing, blindly believed in every\nthing, finding confirmation in the fact that it was on hand; and they\nbelieved that what seemed to them muddy and contradictory there on the\nheights of philosophy was all as clear as the day.  But that time has\ngone by.  That theory is worn out: a new theory has presented itself in\nits stead.  The old one has become useless; and the crowd has looked into\nthe secret sanctuaries of the high priests, and has seen that there is\nnothing there, and that there has been nothing there, save very obscure\nand senseless words.  This has taken place within my memory.\n\n\"But this arises,\" people of the present science will say, \"from the fact\nthat all that was the raving of the theological and metaphysical period;\nbut now there exists positive, critical science, which does not deceive,\nsince it is all founded on induction and experiment.  Now our erections\nare not shaky, as they formerly were, and only in our path lies the\nsolution of all the problems of humanity.\"\n\nBut the old teachers said precisely the same, and they were no fools; and\nwe know that there were people of great intelligence among them.  And\nprecisely thus, within my memory, and with no less confidence, with no\nless recognition on the part of the crowd of so-called cultivated people,\nspoke the Hegelians.  And neither were our Herzens, our Stankevitches, or\nour Byelinskys fools.  But whence arose that marvellous manifestation,\nthat sensible people should preach with the greatest assurance, and that\nthe crowd should accept with devotion, such unfounded and unsupportable\nteachings?  There is but one reason,--that the teachings thus inculcated\njustified people in their evil life.\n\nA very poor English writer, whose works are all forgotten, and recognized\nas the most insignificant of the insignificant, writes a treatise on\npopulation, in which he devises a fictitious law concerning the increase\nof population disproportionate to the means of subsistence.  This\nfictitious law, this writer encompasses with mathematical formulae\nfounded on nothing whatever; and then he launches it on the world.  From\nthe frivolity and the stupidity of this hypothesis, one would suppose\nthat it would not attract the attention of any one, and that it would\nsink into oblivion, like all the works of the same author which followed\nit; but it turned out quite otherwise.  The hack-writer who penned this\ntreatise instantly becomes a scientific authority, and maintains himself\nupon that height for nearly half a century.  Malthus!  The Malthusian\ntheory,--the law of the increase of the population in geometrical, and of\nthe means of subsistence in arithmetical proportion, and the wise and\nnatural means of restricting the population,--all these have become\nscientific, indubitable truths, which have not been confirmed, but which\nhave been employed as axioms, for the erection of false theories.  In\nthis manner have learned and cultivated people proceeded; and among the\nherd of idle persons, there sprung up a pious trust in the great laws\nexpounded by Malthus.  How did this come to pass?  It would seem as\nthough they were scientific deductions, which had nothing in common with\nthe instincts of the masses.  But this can only appear so for the man who\nbelieves that science, like the Church, is something self-contained,\nliable to no errors, and not simply the imaginings of weak and erring\nfolk, who merely substitute the imposing word \"science,\" in place of the\nthoughts and words of the people, for the sake of impressiveness.\n\nAll that was necessary was to make practical deductions from the theory\nof Malthus, in order to perceive that this theory was of the most human\nsort, with the best defined of objects.  The deductions directly arising\nfrom this theory were the following: The wretched condition of the\nlaboring classes was such in accordance with an unalterable law, which\ndoes not depend upon men; and, if any one is to blame in this matter, it\nis the hungry laboring classes themselves.  Why are they such fools as to\ngive birth to children, when they know that there will be nothing for the\nchildren to eat?  And so this deduction, which is valuable for the herd\nof idle people, has had this result: that all learned men overlooked the\nincorrectness, the utter arbitrariness of these deductions, and their\ninsusceptibility to proof; and the throng of cultivated, i.e., of idle\npeople, knowing instinctively to what these deductions lead, saluted this\ntheory with enthusiasm, conferred upon it the stamp of truth, i.e., of\nscience, and dragged it about with them for half a century.\n\nIs not this same thing the cause of the confidence of men in positive\ncritical-experimental science, and of the devout attitude of the crowd\ntowards that which it preaches?  At first it seems strange, that the\ntheory of evolution can in any manner justify people in their evil ways;\nand it seems as though the scientific theory of evolution has to deal\nonly with facts, and that it does nothing else but observe facts.\n\nBut this only appears to be the case.\n\nExactly the same thing appeared to be the case with the Hegelian\ndoctrine, in a greater degree, and also in the special instance of the\nMalthusian doctrine.  Hegelianism was, apparently, occupied only with its\nlogical constructions, and bore no relation to the life of mankind.\nPrecisely this seemed to be the case with the Malthusian theory.  It\nappeared to be busy itself only with statistical data.  But this was only\nin appearance.\n\nContemporary science is also occupied with facts alone: it investigates\nfacts.  But what facts?  Why precisely these facts, and no others?\n\nThe men of contemporary science are very fond of saying, triumphantly and\nconfidently, \"We investigate only facts,\" imagining that these words\ncontain some meaning.  It is impossible to investigate facts alone,\nbecause the facts which are subject to our investigation are\n_innumerable_ (in the definite sense of that word),--innumerable.  Before\nwe proceed to investigate facts, we must have a theory on the foundation\nof which these or those facts can be inquired into, i.e., selected from\nthe incalculable quantity.\n\nAnd this theory exists, and is even very definitely expressed, although\nmany of the workers in contemporary science do not know it, or often\npretend that they do not know it.  Exactly thus has it always been with\nall prevailing and guiding doctrines.  The foundations of every doctrine\nare always stated in a theory, and the so-called learned men merely\ninvent further deductions from the foundations once stated.  Thus\ncontemporary science is selecting its facts on the foundation of a very\ndefinite theory, which it sometimes knows, sometimes refuses to know, and\nsometimes really does not know; but the theory exists.\n\nThe theory is as follows: All mankind is an undying organism; men are the\nparticles of that organism, and each one of them has his own special task\nfor the service of others.  In the same manner, the cells united in an\norganism share among them the labor of fight for existence of the whole\norganism; they magnify the power of one capacity, and weaken another, and\nunite in one organ, in order the better to supply the requirements of the\nwhole organism.  And exactly in the same manner as with gregarious\nanimals,--ants or bees,--the separate individuals divide the labor among\nthem.  The queen lays the egg, the drone fructifies it; the bee works his\nwhole life long.  And precisely this thing takes place in mankind and in\nhuman societies.  And therefore, in order to find the law of life for\nman, it is necessary to study the laws of the life and the development of\norganisms.\n\nIn the life and development of organisms, we find the following laws: the\nlaw of differentiation and integration, the law that every phenomenon is\naccompanied not by direct consequences alone, another law regarding the\ninstability of type, and so on.  All this seems very innocent; but it is\nonly necessary to draw the deductions from all these laws, in order to\nimmediately perceive that these laws incline in the same direction as the\nlaw of Malthus.  These laws all point to one thing; namely, to the\nrecognition of that division of labor which exists in human communities,\nas organic, that is to say, as indispensable.  And therefore, the unjust\nposition in which we, the people who have freed ourselves from labor,\nfind ourselves, must be regarded not from the point of view of common-\nsense and justice, but merely as an undoubted fact, confirming the\nuniversal law.\n\nMoral philosophy also justified every sort of cruelty and harshness; but\nthis resulted in a philosophical manner, and therefore wrongly.  But with\nscience, all this results scientifically, and therefore in a manner not\nto be doubted.\n\nHow can we fail to accept so very beautiful a theory?  It is merely\nnecessary to look upon human society as an object of contemplation; and I\ncan console myself with the thought that my activity, whatever may be its\nnature, is a functional activity of the organism of humanity, and that\ntherefore there cannot arise any question as to whether it is just that\nI, in employing the labor of others, am doing only that which is\nagreeable to me, as there can arise no question as to the division of\nlabor between the brain cells and the muscular cells.  How is it possible\nnot to admit so very beautiful a theory, in order that one may be able,\never after, to pocket one's conscience, and have a perfectly unbridled\nanimal existence, feeling beneath one's self that support of science\nwhich is not to be shaken nowadays!\n\nAnd it is on this new doctrine that the justification for men's idleness\nand cruelty is now founded.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nThis doctrine had its rise not so very long--fifty years--ago.  Its\nprincipal founder was the French _savant_ Comte.  There occurred to\nComte,--a systematist, and a religious man to boot,--under the influence\nof the then novel physiological investigations of Biche, the old idea\nalready set forth by Menenius Agrippa,--the idea that human society, all\nhumanity even, might be regarded as one whole, as an organism; and men as\nliving parts of the separate organs, having each his own definite\nappointment to serve the entire organism.\n\nThis idea so pleased Comte, that upon it he began to erect a\nphilosophical theory; and this theory so carried him away, that he\nutterly forgot that the point of departure for his theory was nothing\nmore than a very pretty comparison, which was suitable for a fable, but\nwhich could by no means serve as the foundation for science.  He, as\nfrequently happens, mistook his pet hypothesis for an axiom, and imagined\nthat his whole theory was erected on the very firmest of foundations.\nAccording to his theory, it seemed that since humanity is an organism,\nthe knowledge of what man is, and of what should be his relations to the\nworld, was possible only through a knowledge of the features of this\norganism.  For the knowledge of these qualities, man is enabled to take\nobservations on other and lower organisms, and to draw conclusions from\ntheir life.  Therefore, in the fist place, the true and only method,\naccording to Comte, is the inductive, and all science is only such when\nit has experiment as its basis; in the second place, the goal and crown\nof sciences is formed by that new science dealing with the imaginary\norganism of humanity, or the super-organic being,--humanity,--and this\nnewly devised science is sociology.\n\nAnd from this view of science it appears, that all previous knowledge was\ndeceitful, and that the whole story of humanity, in the sense of self-\nknowledge, has been divided into three, actually into two, periods: the\ntheological and metaphysical period, extending from the beginning of the\nworld to Comte, and the present period,--that of the only true science,\npositive science,--beginning with Comte.\n\nAll this was very well.  There was but one error, and that was this,--that\nthe whole edifice was erected on the sand, on the arbitrary and false\nassertion that humanity is an organism.  This assertion was arbitrary,\nbecause we have just as much right to admit the existence of a human\norganism, not subject to observation, as we have to admit the existence\nof any other invisible, fantastic being.  This assertion was erroneous,\nbecause for the understanding of humanity, i.e., of men, the definition\nof an organism was incorrectly constructed, while in humanity itself all\nactual signs of organism,--the centre of feeling or consciousness, are\nlacking. {178}\n\nBut, in spite of the arbitrariness and incorrectness of the fundamental\nassumption of positive philosophy, it was accepted by the so-called\ncultivated world with the greatest sympathy.  In this connection, one\nthing is worthy of note: that out of the works of Comte, consisting of\ntwo parts, of positive philosophy and of positive politics, only the\nfirst was adopted by the learned world,--that part which justifieth, on\nnew promises, the existent evil of human societies; but the second part,\ntreating of the moral obligations of altruism, arising from the\nrecognition of mankind as an organism, was regarded as not only of no\nimportance, but as trivial and unscientific.  It was a repetition of the\nsame thing that had happened in the case of Kant's works.  The \"Critique\nof Pure Reason\" was adopted by the scientific crowd; but the \"Critique of\nApplied Reason,\" that part which contains the gist of moral doctrine, was\nrepudiated.  In Kant's doctrine, that was accepted as scientific which\nsubserved the existent evil.  But the positive philosophy, which was\naccepted by the crowd, was founded on an arbitrary and erroneous basis,\nwas in itself too unfounded, and therefore unsteady, and could not\nsupport itself alone.  And so, amid all the multitude of the idle plays\nof thought of the men professing the so-called science, there presents\nitself an assertion equally devoid of novelty, and equally arbitrary and\nerroneous, to the effect that living beings, i.e., organisms, have had\ntheir rise in each other,--not only one organism from another, but one\nfrom many; i.e., that in a very long interval of time (in a million of\nyears, for instance), not only could a duck and a fish proceed from one\nancestor, but that one animal might result from a whole hive of bees.  And\nthis arbitrary and erroneous assumption was accepted by the learned world\nwith still greater and more universal sympathy.  This assumption was\narbitrary, because no one has ever seen how one organism is made from\nanother, and therefore the hypothesis as to the origin of species will\nalways remain an hypothesis, and not an experimental fact.   And this\nhypothesis was also erroneous, because the decision of the question as to\nthe origin of species--that they have originated, in consequence of the\nlaw of heredity and fitness, in the course of an interminably long\ntime--is no solution at all, but merely a re-statement of the problem in\na new form.\n\nAccording to Moses' solution of the question (in the dispute with whom\nthe entire significance of this theory lies), it appears that the\ndiversity of the species of living creatures proceeded according to the\nwill of God, and according to His almighty power; but according to the\ntheory of evolution, it appears that the difference between living\ncreatures arose by chance, and on account of varying conditions of\nheredity and surroundings, through an endless period of time.  The theory\nof evolution, to speak in simple language, merely asserts, that by\nchance, in an incalculably long period of time, out of any thing you\nlike, any thing else that you like may develop.\n\nThis is no answer to the problem.  And the same problem is differently\nexpressed: instead of will, chance is offered, and the co-efficient of\nthe eternal is transposed from the power to the time.  But this fresh\nassertion strengthened Comte's assertion.  And, moreover, according to\nthe ingenuous confession of the founder of Darwin's theory himself, his\nidea was aroused in him by the law of Malthus; and he therefore\npropounded the theory of the struggle of living creatures and people for\nexistence, as the fundamental law of every living thing.  And lo! only\nthis was needed by the throng of idle people for their justification.\n\nTwo insecure theories, incapable of sustaining themselves on their feet,\nupheld each other, and acquired the semblance of stability.  Both\ntheories bore with them that idea which is precious to the crowd, that in\nthe existent evil of human societies, men are not to blame, and that the\nexisting order of things is that which should prevail; and the new theory\nwas adopted by the throng with entire faith and unheard-of enthusiasm.\nAnd behold, on the strength of these two arbitrary and erroneous\nhypotheses, accepted as dogmas of belief, the new scientific doctrine was\nratified.\n\nSpencer, for example, in one of his first works, expresses this doctrine\nthus:--\n\n\"Societies and organisms,\" he says, \"are alike in the following points:--\n\n\"1.  In that, beginning as tiny aggregates, they imperceptibly grow in\nmass, so that some of them attain to the size of ten thousand times their\noriginal bulk.\n\n\"2.  In that while they were, in the beginning, of such simple structure,\nthat they can be regarded as destitute of all structure, they acquire\nduring the period of their growth a constantly increasing complication of\nstructure.\n\n\"3.  In that although in their early, undeveloped period, there exists\nbetween them hardly any interdependence of parts, their parts gradually\nacquire an interdependence, which eventually becomes so strong, that the\nlife and activity of each part becomes possible only on condition of the\nlife and activity of the remaining parts.\n\n\"4.  In that life and the development of society are independent, and\nmore protracted than the life and development of any one of the units\nconstituting it, which are born, grow, act, reproduce themselves, and die\nseparately; while the political body formed from them, continues to live\ngeneration after generation, developing in mass in perfection and\nfunctional activity.\"\n\nThe points of difference between organisms and society go farther; and it\nis proved that these differences are merely apparent, but that organisms\nand societies are absolutely similar.\n\nFor the uninitiated man the question immediately presents itself: \"What\nare you talking about?  Why is mankind an organism, or similar to an\norganism?\"\n\nYou say that societies resemble organisms in these four features; but it\nis nothing of the sort.  You only take a few features of the organism,\nand beneath them you range human communities.  You bring forward four\nfeatures of resemblance, then you take four features of dissimilarity,\nwhich are, however, only apparent (according to you); and you thence\nconclude that human societies can be regarded as organisms.  But surely,\nthis is an empty game of dialectics, and nothing more.  On the same\nfoundation, under the features of an organism, you may range whatever you\nplease.  I will take the fist thing that comes into my head.  Let us\nsuppose it to be a forest,--the manner in which it sows itself in the\nplain, and spreads abroad.  1. Beginning with a small aggregate, it\nincreases imperceptibly in mass, and so forth.  Exactly the same thing\ntakes place in the fields, when they gradually seed themselves down, and\nbring forth a forest.  2. In the beginning the structure is simple:\nafterwards it increases in complication, and so forth.  Exactly the same\nthing happens with the forest,--in the first place, there were only bitch-\ntrees, then came brush-wood and hazel-bushes; at first all grow erect,\nthen they interlace their branches.  3. The interdependence of the parts\nis so augmented, that the life of each part depends on the life and\nactivity of the remaining parts.  It is precisely so with the forest,--the\nhazel-bush warms the tree-boles (cut it down, and the other trees will\nfreeze), the hazel-bush protects from the wind, the seed-bearing trees\ncarry on reproduction, the tall and leafy trees afford shade, and the\nlife of one tree depends on the life of another.  4. The separate parts\nmay die, but the whole lives.  Exactly the case with the forest.  The\nforest does not mourn one tree.\n\nHaving proved that, in accordance with this theory, you may regard the\nforest as an organism, you fancy that you have proved to the disciples of\nthe organic doctrine the error of their definition.  Nothing of the sort.\nThe definition which they give to the organism is so inaccurate and so\nelastic that under this definition they may include what they will.\n\"Yes,\" they say; \"and the forest may also be regarded as an organism.  The\nforest is mutual re-action of individuals, which do not annihilate each\nother,--an aggregate; its parts may also enter into a more intimate\nunion, as the hive of bees constitutes itself an organism.\"  Then you\nwill say, \"If that is so, then the birds and the insects and the grass of\nthis forest, which re-act upon each other, and do not destroy each other,\nmay also be regarded as one organism, in company with the trees.\"  And to\nthis also they will agree.  Every collection of living individuals, which\nre-act upon each other, and do not destroy each other, may be regarded as\norganisms, according to their theory.  You may affirm a connection and\ninteraction between whatever you choose, and, according to evolution, you\nmay affirm, that, out of whatever you please, any other thing that you\nplease may proceed, in a very long period of time.\n\nAnd the most remarkable thing of all is, that this same identical\npositive science recognizes the scientific method as the sign of true\nknowledge, and has itself defined what it designates as the scientific\nmethod.\n\nBy the scientific method it means common-sense.\n\nAnd common-sense convicts it at every step.  As soon as the Popes felt\nthat nothing holy remained in them, they called themselves most holy.\n\nAs soon as science felt that no common-sense was left in her she called\nherself sensible, that is to say, scientific science.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nDivision of labor is the law of all existing things, and, therefore, it\nshould be present in human societies.  It is very possible that this is\nso; but still the question remains, Of what nature is that division of\nlabor which I behold in my human society? is it that division of labor\nwhich should exist?  And if people regard a certain division of labor as\nunreasonable and unjust, then no science whatever can convince men that\nthat should exist which they regard as unreasonable and unjust.\n\nDivision of labor is the condition of existence of organisms, and of\nhuman societies; but what, in these human societies, is to be regarded as\nan organic division of labor?  And, to whatever extent science may have\ninvestigated the division of labor in the cells of worms, all these\nobservations do not compel a man to acknowledge that division of labor to\nbe correct which his own sense and conscience do not recognize as\ncorrect.  No matter how convincing may be the proofs of the division of\nlabor of the cells in the organisms studied, man, if he has not parted\nwith his judgment, will say, nevertheless, that a man should not weave\ncalico all his life, and that this is not division of labor, but\npersecution of the people.  Spencer and others say that there is a whole\ncommunity of weavers, and that the profession of weaving is an organic\ndivision of labor.  There are weavers; so, of course, there is such a\ndivision of labor.  It would be well enough to speak thus if the colony\nof weavers had arisen by the free will of its member's; but we know that\nit is not thus formed of their initiative, but that we make it.  Hence it\nis necessary to find out whether we have made these weavers in accordance\nwith an organic law, or with some other.\n\nMen live.  They support themselves by agriculture, as is natural to all\nmen.  One man has set up a blacksmith's forge, and repaired his plough;\nhis neighbor comes to him, and asks him to mend his also, and promises\nhim in return either work or money.  A third comes, and a fourth; and in\nthe community formed by these men, there arises the following division of\nlabor,--a blacksmith is created.  Another man has instructed his children\nwell; his neighbor brings his children to him, and requests him to teach\nthem also, and a teacher is created.  But both blacksmith and teacher\nhave been created, and continue to be such, merely because they have been\nasked; and they remain such as long as they are requested to be\nblacksmith and teacher.  If it should come to pass that many blacksmiths\nand teachers should set themselves up, or that their work is not\nrequited, they will immediately, as common-sense demands and as always\nhappens when there is no occasion for disturbing the regular course of\ndivision of labor,--they will immediately abandon their trade, and betake\nthemselves once more to agriculture.\n\nMen who behave thus are guided by their sense, their conscience; and\nhence we, the men endowed with sense and conscience, all assert that such\na division of labor is right.  But if it should chance that the\nblacksmiths were able to compel other people to work for them, and should\ncontinue to make horse-shoes when they were not wanted, and if the\nteachers should go on teaching when there was no one to teach, then it is\nobvious to every sane man, as a man, i.e., as a being endowed with reason\nand conscience, that this would not be division, but appropriation, of\nlabor.  And yet precisely that sort of activity is what is called\ndivision of labor by scientific science.  People do that which others do\nnot think of requiring, and demand that they shall be supported for so\ndoing, and say that this is just because it is division of labor.\n\nThat which constitutes the cause of the economical poverty of our age is\nwhat the English call over-production (which means that a mass of things\nare made which are of no use to anybody, and with which nothing can be\ndone).\n\nIt would be odd to see a shoemaker, who should consider that people were\nbound to feed him because he incessantly made boots which had been of no\nuse to any one for a long time; but what shall we say of those men who\nmake nothing,--who not only produce nothing that is visible, but nothing\nthat is of use for people at large,--for whose wares there are no\ncustomers, and who yet demand, with the same boldness, on the ground of\ndivision of labor, that they shall be supplied with fine food and drink,\nand that they shall be dressed well?  There may be, and there are,\nsorcerers for whose services a demand makes itself felt, and for this\npurpose there are brought to them pancakes and flasks; but it is\ndifficult to imagine the existence of sorcerers whose spells are useless\nto every one, and who boldly demand that they shall be luxuriously\nsupported because they exercise sorcery.  And it is the same in our\nworld.  And all this comes about on the basis of that false conception of\nthe division of labor, which is defined not by reason and conscience, but\nby observation, which men of science avow with such unanimity.\n\nDivision of labor has, in reality, always existed, and still exists; but\nit is right only when man decides with his reason and his conscience that\nit should be so, and not when he merely investigates it.  And reason and\nconscience decide the question for all men very simply, unanimously, and\nin a manner not to be doubted.  They always decide it thus: that division\nof labor is right only when a special branch of man's activity is so\nneedful to men, that they, entreating him to serve them, voluntarily\npropose to support him in requital for that which he shall do for them.\nBut, when a man can live from infancy to the age of thirty years on the\nnecks of others, promising to do, when he shall have been taught,\nsomething extremely useful, for which no one asks him; and when, from the\nage of thirty until his death, he can live in the same manner, still\nmerely on the promise to do something, for which there has been no\nrequest, this will not be division of labor (and, as a matter of fact,\nthere is no such thing in our society), but it will be what it already\nis,--merely the appropriation, by force, of the toil of others; that same\nappropriation by force of the toil of others which the philosophers\nformerly designated by various names,--for instance, as indispensable\nforms of life,--but which scientific science now calls the organic\ndivision of labor.\n\nThe whole significance of scientific science lies in this alone.  It has\nnow become a distributer of diplomas for idleness; for it alone, in its\nsanctuaries, selects and determines what is parasitical, and what is\norganic activity, in the social organism.  Just as though every man could\nnot find this out for himself much more accurately and more speedily, by\ntaking counsel of his reason and his conscience.  It seems to men of\nscientific science, that there can be no doubt of this, and that their\nactivity is also indubitably organic; they, the scientific and artistic\nworkers, are the brain cells, and the most precious cells in the whole\norganism.\n\nEver since men--reasoning beings--have existed, they have distinguished\ngood from evil, and have profited by the fact that men have made this\ndistinction before them; they have warred against evil, and have sought\nthe good, and have slowly but uninterruptedly advanced in that path.  And\ndivers delusions have always stood before men, hemming in this path, and\nhaving for their object to demonstrate to them, that it was not necessary\nto do this, and that it was not necessary to live as they were living.\nWith fearful conflict and difficulty, men have freed themselves from many\ndelusions.  And behold, a new and a still more evil delusion has sprung\nup in the path of mankind,--the scientific delusion.\n\nThis new delusion is precisely the same in nature as the old ones; its\ngist lies in secretly leading astray the activity of our reason and\nconscience, and of those who have lived before us, by something external.\nIn scientific science, this external thing is--investigation.\n\nThe cunning of this science consists in this,--that, after pointing out\nto men the coarsest false interpretations of the activity of the reason\nand conscience of man, it destroys in them faith in their own reason and\nconscience, and assures them that every thing which their reason and\nconscience say to them, that all that these have said to the loftiest\nrepresentatives of man heretofore, ever since the world has existed,--that\nall this is conventional and subjective.  \"All this must be abandoned,\"\nthey say; \"it is impossible to understand the truth by the reason, for we\nmay be mistaken.  But there exists another unerring and almost mechanical\npath: it is necessary to investigate facts.\"\n\nBut facts must be investigated on the foundation of scientific science,\ni.e., of the two hypotheses of positivism and evolution, which are not\nborne out by any thing, and which give themselves out as undoubted\ntruths.  And the reigning science announces, with delusive solemnity,\nthat the solution of all problems of life is possible only through the\nstudy of facts, of nature, and, in particular, of organisms.  The\ncredulous mass of young people, overwhelmed by the novelty of this\nauthority, which has not yet been overthrown or even touched by\ncriticism, flings itself into the study of natural sciences, into that\nsole path, which, according to the assertion of the reigning science, can\nlead to the elucidation of the problems of life.\n\nBut the farther the disciples proceed in this study, the farther and\nfarther does not only the possibility, but even the very idea, of the\nsolution of the problems of life withdraw from them, and the more and\nmore do they become accustomed, not so much to investigate, as to believe\nin the assertions of other investigators (to believe in cells, in\nprotoplasm, in the fourth condition of bodies, and so forth); the more\nand more does the form veil the contents from them; the more and more do\nthey lose the consciousness of good and evil, and the capacity of\nunderstanding those expressions and definitions of good and evil which\nhave been elaborated through the whole foregoing life of mankind; and the\nmore and more do they appropriate to themselves the special scientific\njargon of conventional expressions, which possesses no universally human\nsignificance; and the deeper and deeper do they plunge into the _debris_\nof utterly unilluminated investigations; the more and more do they lose\nthe power, not only of independent thought, but even of understanding the\nfresh human thought of others, which lies beyond the bounds of their\nTalmud.  But the principal thing is, that they pass their best years in\ngetting disused to life; they grow accustomed to consider their position\nas justifiable; and they convert themselves physically into utterly\nuseless parasites, and mentally they dislocate their brains and become\nmental eunuchs.  And in precisely the same manner, according to the\nmeasure of their folly, do they acquire self-conceit, which deprives them\nforever of all possibility of return to a simple life of toil, to a\nsimple, clear, and universally human train of reasoning.\n\nDivision of labor always has existed in human communities, and will\nprobably always exist; but the question for us lies not in the fact that\nit has existed, and that it will exist, but in this,--how are we to\ngovern ourselves so that this division shall be right?  But if we take\ninvestigation as our rule of action, we by this very act repudiate all\nrule; then in that case we shall regard as right every division of labor\nwhich we shall descry among men, and which appears to us to be right--to\nwhich conclusion the prevailing scientific science also leads.\n\nDivision of labor!\n\nSome are busied in mental or moral, others in muscular or physical,\nlabor.  With what confidence people enunciate this!  They wish to think\nso, and it seems to them that, in point of fact, a perfectly regular\nexchange of services does take place.\n\nBut we, in our blindness, have so completely lost sight of the\nresponsibility which we have assumed, that we have even forgotten in\nwhose name our labor is prosecuted; and the very people whom we have\nundertaken to serve have become the objects of our scientific and\nartistic activity.  We study and depict them for our amusement and\ndiversion.  We have totally forgotten that what we need to do is not to\nstudy and depict them, but to serve them.  To such a degree have we lost\nsight of this duty which we have taken upon us, that we have not even\nnoticed that what we have undertaken to perform in the realm of science\nand art has been accomplished not by us, but by others, and that our\nplace has turned out to be occupied.\n\nIt proves that while we have been disputing, one about the spontaneous\norigin of organisms, another as to what else there is in protoplasm, and\nso on, the common people have been in need of spiritual food; and the\nunsuccessful and rejected of art and science, in obedience to the mandate\nof adventurers who have in view the sole aim of profit, have begun to\nfurnish the people with this spiritual food, and still so furnish them.\nFor the last forty years in Europe, and for the last ten years with us\nhere in Russia, millions of books and pictures and song-books have been\ndistributed, and stalls have been opened, and the people gaze and sing\nand receive spiritual nourishment, but not from us who have undertaken to\nprovide it; while we, justifying our idleness by that spiritual food\nwhich we are supposed to furnish, sit by and wink at it.\n\nBut it is impossible for us to wink at it, for our last justification is\nslipping from beneath our feet.  We have become specialized.  We have our\nparticular functional activity.  We are the brains of the people.  They\nsupport us, and we have undertaken to teach them.  It is only under this\npretence that we have excused ourselves from work.  But what have we\ntaught them, and what are we now teaching them?  They have waited for\nyears--for tens, for hundreds of years.  And we keep on diverting our\nminds with chatter, and we instruct each other, and we console ourselves,\nand we have utterly forgotten them.  We have so entirely forgotten them,\nthat others have undertaken to instruct them, and we have not even\nperceived it.  We have spoken of the division of labor with such lack of\nseriousness, that it is obvious that what we have said about the benefits\nwhich we have conferred on the people was simply a shameless evasion.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nScience and art have arrogated to themselves the right of idleness, and\nof the enjoyment of the labor of others, and have betrayed their calling.\nAnd their errors have arisen merely because their servants, having set\nforth a falsely conceived principle of the division of labor, have\nrecognized their own right to make use of the labor of others, and have\nlost the significance of their vocation; having taken for their aim, not\nthe profit of the people, but the mysterious profit of science and art,\nand delivered themselves over to idleness and vice--not so much of the\nsenses as of the mind.\n\nThey say, \"Science and art have bestowed a great deal on mankind.\"\n\nScience and art have bestowed a great deal on mankind, not because the\nmen of art and science, under the pretext of a division of labor, live on\nother people, but in spite of this.\n\nThe Roman Republic was powerful, not because her citizens had the power\nto live a vicious life, but because among their number there were heroic\ncitizens.  It is the same with art and science.  Art and science have\nbestowed much on mankind, but not because their followers formerly\npossessed on rare occasions (and now possess on every occasion) the\npossibility of getting rid of labor; but because there have been men of\ngenius, who, without making use of these rights, have led mankind\nforward.\n\nThe class of learned men and artists, which has advanced, on the\nfictitious basis of a division of labor, its demands to the right of\nusing the labors of others, cannot co-operate in the success of true\nscience and true art, because a lie cannot bring forth the truth.\n\nWe have become so accustomed to these, our tenderly reared or weakened\nrepresentatives of mental labor, that it seems to us horrible that a man\nof science or an artist should plough or cart manure.  It seems to us\nthat every thing would go to destruction, and that all his wisdom would\nbe rattled out of him in the cart, and that all those grand picturesque\nimages which he bears about in his breast would be soiled in the manure;\nbut we have become so inured to this, that it does not strike us as\nstrange that our servitor of science--that is to say, the servant and\nteacher of the truth--by making other people do for him that which he\nmight do for himself, passes half his time in dainty eating, in smoking,\nin talking, in free and easy gossip, in reading the newspapers and\nromances, and in visiting the theatres.  It is not strange to us to see\nour philosopher in the tavern, in the theatre, and at the ball.  It is\nnot strange in our eyes to learn that those artists who sweeten and\nennoble our souls have passed their lives in drunkenness, cards, and\nwomen, if not in something worse.\n\nArt and science are very beautiful things; but just because they are so\nbeautiful they should not be spoiled by the compulsory combination with\nthem of vice: that is to say, a man should not get rid of his obligation\nto serve his own life and that of other people by his own labor.  Art and\nscience have caused mankind to progress.  Yes; but not because men of art\nand science, under the guise of division of labor, have rid themselves of\nthe very first and most indisputable of human obligations,--to labor with\ntheir hands in the universal struggle of mankind with nature.\n\n\"But only the division of labor, the freedom of men of science and of art\nfrom the necessity of earning them living, has rendered possible that\nremarkable success of science which we behold in our day,\" is the answer\nto this.  \"If all were forced to till the soil, those _vast_ results\nwould not have been attained which have been attained in our day; there\nwould have been none of those _striking_ successes which have so greatly\naugmented man's power over nature, were it not for these astronomical\ndiscoveries _which are so astounding to the mind of man_, and which have\nadded to the security of navigation; there would be no steamers, no\nrailways, none of those _wonderful_ bridges, tunnels, steam-engines and\ntelegraphs, photography, telephones, sewing-machines, phonographs,\nelectricity, telescopes, spectroscopes, microscopes, chloroform, Lister's\nbandages, and carbolic acid.\"\n\nI will not enumerate every thing on which our age thus prides itself.\nThis enumeration and pride of enthusiasm over ourselves and our exploits\ncan be found in almost any newspaper and popular pamphlet.  This\nenthusiasm over ourselves is often repeated to such a degree that none of\nus can sufficiently rejoice over ourselves, that we are seriously\nconvinced that art and science have never made such progress as in our\nown time.  And, as we are indebted for all this marvellous progress to\nthe division of labor, why not acknowledge it?\n\nLet us admit that the progress made in our day is noteworthy, marvellous,\nunusual; let us admit that we are fortunate mortals to live in such a\nremarkable epoch: but let us endeavor to appraise this progress, not on\nthe basis of our self-satisfaction, but of that principle which defends\nitself with this progress,--the division of labor.  All this progress is\nvery amazing; but by a peculiarly unlucky chance, admitted even by the\nmen of science, this progress has not so far improved, but it has rather\nrendered worse, the position of the majority, that is to say, of the\nworkingman.\n\nIf the workingman can travel on the railway, instead of walking, still\nthat same railway has burned down his forest, has carried off his grain\nunder his very nose, and has brought his condition very near to\nslavery--to the capitalist.  If, thanks to steam-engines and machines,\nthe workingman can purchase inferior calico at a cheap rate, on the other\nhand these engines and machines have deprived him of work at home, and\nhave brought him into a state of abject slavery to the manufacturer.  If\nthere are telephones and telescopes, poems, romances, theatres, ballets,\nsymphonies, operas, picture-galleries, and so forth, on the other hand\nthe life of the workingman has not been bettered by all this; for all of\nthem, by the same unlucky chance, are inaccessible to him.\n\nSo that, on the whole (and even men of science admit this), up to the\npresent time, all these remarkable discoveries and products of science\nand art have certainly not ameliorated the condition of the workingman,\nif, indeed, they have not made it worse.  So that, if we set against the\nquestion as to the reality of the progress attained by the arts and\nsciences, not our own rapture, but that standard upon the basis of which\nthe division of labor is defended,--the good of the laboring man,--we\nshall see that we have no firm foundations for that self-satisfaction in\nwhich we are so fond of indulging.\n\nThe peasant travels on the railway, the woman buys calico, in the _isba_\n(cottage) there will be a lamp instead of a pine-knot, and the peasant\nwill light his pipe with a match,--this is convenient; but what right\nhave I to say that the railway and the factory have proved advantageous\nto the people?\n\nIf the peasant rides on the railway, and buys calico, a lamp, and\nmatches, it is only because it is impossible to forbid the peasant's\nbuying them; but surely we are all aware that the construction of\nrailways and factories has never been carried out for the benefit of the\nlower classes: so why should a casual convenience which the workingman\nenjoys lead to a proof of the utility of all these institutions for the\npeople?\n\nThere is something useful in every injurious thing.  After a\nconflagration, one can warm one's self, and light one's pipe with a\nfirebrand; but why declare that the conflagration is beneficial?\n\nMen of art and science might say that their pursuits are beneficial to\nthe people, only when men of art and science have assigned to themselves\nthe object of serving the people, as they now assign themselves the\nobject of serving the authorities and the capitalists.  We might say this\nif men of art and science had taken as their aim the needs of the people;\nbut there are none such.  All scientists are busy with their priestly\navocations, out of which proceed investigations into protoplasm, the\nspectral analyses of stars, and so on.  But science has never once\nthought of what axe or what hatchet is the most profitable to chop with,\nwhat saw is the most handy, what is the best way to mix bread, from what\nflour, how to set it, how to build and heat an oven, what food and drink,\nand what utensils, are the most convenient and advantageous under certain\nconditions, what mushrooms may be eaten, how to propagate them, and how\nto prepare them in the most suitable manner.  And yet all this is the\nprovince of science.\n\nI am aware, that, according to its own definition, science ought to be\nuseless, i.e., science for the sake of science; but surely this is an\nobvious evasion.  The province of science is to serve the people.  We\nhave invented telegraphs, telephones, phonographs; but what advances have\nwe effected in the life, in the labor, of the people?  We have reckoned\nup two millions of beetles!  And we have not tamed a single animal since\nbiblical times, when all our animals were already domesticated; but the\nreindeer, the stag, the partridge, the heath-cock, all remain wild.\n\nOur botanists have discovered the cell, and in the cell protoplasm, and\nin that protoplasm still something more, and in that atom yet another\nthing.  It is evident that these occupations will not end for a long time\nto come, because it is obvious that there can be no end to them, and\ntherefore the scientist has no time to devote to those things which are\nnecessary to the people.  And therefore, again, from the time of Egyptian\nand Hebrew antiquity, when wheat and lentils had already been cultivated,\ndown to our own times, not a single plant has been added to the food of\nthe people, with the exception of the potato, and that was not obtained\nby science.\n\nTorpedoes have been invented, and apparatus for taxation, and so forth.\nBut the spinning-whined, the woman's weaving-loom, the plough, the\nhatchet, the chain, the rake, the bucket, the well-sweep, are exactly the\nsame as they were in the days of Rurik; and if there has been any change,\nthen that change has not been effected by scientific people.\n\nAnd it is the same with the arts.  We have elevated a lot of people to\nthe rank of great writers; we have picked these writers to pieces, and\nhave written mountains of criticism, and criticism on the critics, and\ncriticism on the critics of the critics.  And we have collected picture-\ngalleries, and have studied different schools of art in detail; and we\nhave so many symphonies and orchestras and operas, that it is becoming\ndifficult even for us to listen to them.  But what have we added to the\npopular _bylini_ [the epic songs], legends, tales, songs?  What music,\nwhat pictures, have we given to the people?\n\nOn the Nikolskaya books are manufactured for the people, and harmonicas\nin Tula; and in neither have we taken any part.  The falsity of the whole\ndirection of our arts and sciences is more striking and more apparent in\nprecisely those very branches, which, it would seem, should, from their\nvery nature, be of use to the people, and which, in consequence of their\nfalse attitude, seem rather injurious than useful.  The technologist, the\nphysician, the teacher, the artist, the author, should, in virtue of\ntheir very callings, it would seem, serve the people.  And, what then?\nUnder the present _regime_, they can do nothing but harm to the people.\n\nThe technologist or the mechanic has to work with capital.  Without\ncapital he is good for nothing.  All his acquirements are such that for\ntheir display he requires capital, and the exploitation of the laboring-\nman on the largest scale; and--not to mention that he is trained to live,\nat the lowest, on from fifteen hundred to two thousand a year, and that,\ntherefore, he cannot go to the country, where no one can give him such\nwages,--he is, by virtue of his very occupation, unfitted for serving the\npeople.  He knows how to calculate the highest mathematical arch of a\nbridge, how to calculate the force and transfer of the motive power, and\nso on; but he is confounded by the simplest questions of a peasant: how\nto improve a plough or a cart, or how to make irrigating canals.  All\nthis in the conditions of life in which the laboring man finds himself.\nOf this, he neither knows nor understands any thing,--less, indeed, than\nthe very stupidest peasant.  Give him workshops, all sorts of workmen at\nhis desire, an order for a machine from abroad, and he will get along.\nBut how to devise means of lightening toil, under the conditions of labor\nof millions of men,--this is what he does not and can not know; and\nbecause of his knowledge, his habits, and his demands on life, he is\nunfitted for this business.\n\nIn a still worse predicament is the physician.  His fancied science is\nall so arranged, that he only knows how to heal those persons who do\nnothing.  He requires an incalculable quantity of expensive preparations,\ninstruments, drugs, and hygienic apparatus.\n\nHe has studied with celebrities in the capitals, who only retain patients\nwho can be cured in the hospital, or who, in the course of their cure,\ncan purchase the appliances requisite for healing, and even go at once\nfrom the North to the South, to some baths or other.  Science is of such\na nature, that every rural physic-man laments because there are no means\nof curing working-men, because he is so poor that he has not the means to\nplace the sick man in the proper hygienic conditions; and at the same\ntime this physician complains that there are no hospitals, and that he\ncannot get through with his work, that he needs assistants, more doctors\nand practitioners.\n\nWhat is the inference?  This: that the people's principal lack, from\nwhich diseases arise, and spread abroad, and refuse to be healed, is the\nlack of means of subsistence.  And here Science, under the banner of the\ndivision of labor, summons her warriors to the aid of the people.  Science\nis entirely arranged for the wealthy classes, and it has adopted for its\ntask the healing of the people who can obtain every thing for themselves;\nand it attempts to heal those who possess no superfluity, by the same\nmeans.\n\nBut there are no means, and therefore it is necessary to take them from\nthe people who are ailing, and pest-stricken, and who cannot recover for\nlack of means.  And now the defenders of medicine for the people say that\nthis matter has been, as yet, but little developed.  Evidently it has\nbeen but little developed, because if (which God forbid!) it had been\ndeveloped, and that through oppressing the people,--instead of two\ndoctors, midwives, and practitioners in a district, twenty would have\nsettled down, since they desire this, and half the people would have died\nthrough the difficulty of supporting this medical staff, and soon there\nwould be no one to heal.\n\nScientific co-operation with the people, of which the defenders of\nscience talk, must be something quite different.  And this co-operation\nwhich should exist has not yet begun.  It will begin when the man of\nscience, technologist or physician, will not consider it legal to take\nfrom people--I will not say a hundred thousand, but even a modest ten\nthousand, or five hundred rubles for assisting them; but when he will\nlive among the toiling people, under the same conditions, and exactly as\nthey do, then he will be able to apply his knowledge to the questions of\nmechanics, technics, hygiene, and the healing of the laboring people.  But\nnow science, supporting itself at the expense of the working-people, has\nentirely forgotten the conditions of life among these people, ignores (as\nit puts it) these conditions, and takes very grave offence because its\nfancied knowledge finds no adherents among the people.\n\nThe domain of medicine, like the domain of technical science, still lies\nuntouched.  All questions as to how the time of labor is best divided,\nwhat is the best method of nourishment, with what, in what shape, and\nwhen it is best to clothe one's self, to shoe one's self, to counteract\ndampness and cold, how best to wash one's self, to feed the children, to\nswaddle them, and so on, in just those conditions in which the working-\npeople find themselves,--all these questions have not yet been\npropounded.\n\nThe same is the case with the activity of the teachers of\nscience,--pedagogical teachers.  Exactly in the same manner science has\nso arranged this matter, that only wealthy people are able to study\nscience, and teachers, like technologists and physicians, cling to money.\n\nAnd this cannot be otherwise, because a school built on a model plan (as\na general rule, the more scientifically built the school, the more costly\nit is), with pivot chains, and globes, and maps, and library, and petty\ntext-books for teachers and scholars and pedagogues, is a sort of thing\nfor which it would be necessary to double the taxes in every village.\nThis science demands.  The people need money for their work; and the more\nthere is needed, the poorer they are.\n\nDefenders of science say: \"Pedagogy is even now proving of advantage to\nthe people, but give it a chance to develop, and then it will do still\nbetter.\"  Yes, if it does develop, and instead of twenty schools in a\ndistrict there are a hundred, and all scientific, and if the people\nsupport these schools, they will grow poorer than ever, and they will\nmore than ever need work for their children's sake.  \"What is to be\ndone?\" they say to this.  The government will build the schools, and will\nmake education obligatory, as it is in Europe; but again, surely, the\nmoney is taken from the people just the same, and it will be harder to\nwork, and they will have less leisure for work, and there will be no\neducation even by compulsion.  Again the sole salvation is this: that the\nteacher should live under the conditions of the working-men, and should\nteach for that compensation which they give him freely and voluntarily.\n\nSuch is the false course of science, which deprives it of the power of\nfulfilling its obligation, which is, to serve the people.\n\nBut in nothing is this false course of science so obviously apparent, as\nin the vocation of art, which, from its very significance, ought to be\naccessible to the people.  Science may fall back on its stupid excuse,\nthat science acts for science, and that when it turns out learned men it\nis laboring for the people; but art, if it is art, should be accessible\nto all the people, and in particular to those in whose name it is\nexecuted.  And our definition of art, in a striking manner, convicts\nthose who busy themselves with art, of their lack of desire, lack of\nknowledge, and lack of power, to be useful to the people.\n\nThe painter, for the production of his great works, must have a studio of\nat least such dimensions that a whole association of carpenters (forty in\nnumber) or shoemakers, now sickening or stifling in lairs, would be able\nto work in it.  But this is not all; he must have a model, costumes,\ntravels.  Millions are expended on the encouragement of art, and the\nproducts of this art are both incomprehensible and useless to the people.\nMusicians, in order to express their grand ideas, must assemble two\nhundred men in white neckties, or in costumes, and spend hundreds of\nthousands of rubles for the equipment of an opera.  And the products of\nthis art cannot evoke from the people--even if the latter could at any\ntime enjoy it--any thing except amazement and _ennui_.\n\nWriters--authors--it appears, do not require surroundings, studios,\nmodels, orchestras, and actors; but it then appears that the author needs\n(not to mention comfort in his quarters) all the dainties of life for the\npreparation of his great works, travels, palaces, cabinets, libraries,\nthe pleasures of art, visits to theatres, concerts, the baths, and so on.\nIf he does not earn a fortune for himself, he is granted a pension, in\norder that he may compose the better.  And again, these compositions, so\nprized by us, remain useless lumber for the people, and utterly\nunserviceable to them.\n\nAnd if still more of these dealers in spiritual nourishment are developed\nfurther, as men of science desire, and a studio is erected in every\nvillage; if an orchestra is set up, and authors are supported in those\nconditions which artistic people regard as indispensable for\nthemselves,--I imagine that the working-classes will sooner take an oath\nnever to look at any pictures, never to listen to a symphony, never to\nread poetry or novels, than to feed all these persons.\n\nAnd why, apparently, should art not be of service to the people?  In\nevery cottage there are images and pictures; every peasant man and woman\nsings; many own harmonicas; and all recite stories and verses, and many\nread.  It is as if those two things which are made for each other--the\nlock and the key--had parted company; they have sprung so far apart, that\nnot even the possibility of uniting them presents itself.  Tell the\nartist that he should paint without a studio, model, or costumes, and\nthat he should paint five-kopek pictures, and he will say that that is\ntantamount to abandoning his art, as he understands it.  Tell the\nmusician that he should play on the harmonica, and teach the women to\nsing songs; say to the poet, to the author, that he ought to cast aside\nhis poems and romances, and compose song-books, tales, and stories,\ncomprehensible to the uneducated people,--they will say that you are mad.\n\nThe service of the people by science and art will only be performed when\npeople, dwelling in the midst of the common folk, and, like the common\nfolk, putting forward no demands, claiming no rights, shall offer to the\ncommon folk their scientific and artistic services; the acceptance or\nrejection of which shall depend wholly on the will of the common folk.\n\nIt is said that the activity of science and art has aided in the forward\nmarch of mankind,--meaning by this activity, that which is now called by\nthat name; which is the same as saying that an unskilled banging of oars\non a vessel that is floating with the tide, which merely hinders the\nprogress of the vessel, is assisting the movement of the ship.  It only\nretards it.  The so-called division of labor, which has become in our day\nthe condition of activity of men of science and art, was, and has\nremained, the chief cause of the tardy forward movement of mankind.\n\nThe proofs of this lie in that confession of all men of science, that the\ngains of science and art are inaccessible to the laboring masses, in\nconsequence of the faulty distribution of riches.  The irregularity of\nthis distribution does not decrease in proportion to the progress of\nscience and art, but only increases.  Men of art and science assume an\nair of deep pity for this unfortunate circumstance which does not depend\nupon them.  But this unfortunate circumstance is produced by themselves;\nfor this irregular distribution of wealth flows solely from the theory of\nthe division of labor.\n\nScience maintains the division of labor as a unalterable law; it sees\nthat the distribution of wealth, founded on the division of labor, is\nwrong and ruinous; and it affirms that its activity, which recognizes the\ndivision of labor, will lead people to bliss.  The result is, that some\npeople make use of the labor of others; but that, if they shall make use\nof the labor of others for a very long period of time, and in still\nlarger measure, then this wrongful distribution of wealth, i.e., the use\nof the labor of others, will come to an end.\n\nMen stand beside a constantly swelling spring of water, and are occupied\nwith the problem of diverting it to one side, away from the thirsty\npeople, and they assert that they are producing this water, and that soon\nenough will be collected for all.  But this water which has flowed, and\nwhich still flows unceasingly, and nourishes all mankind, not only is not\nthe result of the activity of the men who, standing at its source, turn\nit aside, but this water flows and gushes out, in spite of the efforts of\nthese men to obstruct its flow.\n\nThere have always existed a true science, and a true art; but true\nscience and art are not such because they called themselves by that name.\nIt always seems to those who claim at any given period to be the\nrepresentatives of science and art, that they have performed, and are\nperforming, and--most of all--that they will presently perform, the most\namazing marvels, and that beside them there never has been and there is\nnot any science or any art.  Thus it seemed to the sophists, the\nscholastics, the alchemists, the cabalists, the talmudists; and thus it\nseems to our own scientific science, and to our art for the sake of art.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\n\"But art,--science!  You repudiate art and science; that is, you\nrepudiate that by which mankind lives!\"  People are constantly making\nthis--it is not a reply--to me, and they employ this mode of reception in\norder to reject my deductions without examining into them.  \"He\nrepudiates science and art, he wants to send people back again into a\nsavage state; so what is the use of listening to him and of talking to\nhim?\"  But this is unjust.  I not only do not repudiate art and science,\nbut, in the name of that which is true art and true science, I say that\nwhich I do say; merely in order that mankind may emerge from that savage\nstate into which it will speedily fall, thanks to the erroneous teaching\nof our time,--only for this purpose do I say that which I say.\n\nArt and science are as indispensable as food and drink and clothing,--more\nindispensable even; but they become so, not because we decide that what\nwe designate as art and science are indispensable, but simply because\nthey really are indispensable to people.\n\nSurely, if hay is prepared for the bodily nourishment of men, the fact\nthat we are convinced that hay is the proper food for man will not make\nhay the food of man.  Surely I cannot say, \"Why do not you eat hay, when\nit is the indispensable food?\"  Food is indispensable, but it may happen\nthat that which I offer is not food at all.  This same thing has occurred\nwith our art and science.  It seems to us, that if we add to a Greek word\nthe word \"logy,\" and call that a science, it will be a science; and, if\nwe call any abominable thing--like the dancing of nude females--by a\nGreek word, choreography, that that is art, and that it will be art.  But\nno matter how much we may say this, the business with which we occupy\nourselves when we count beetles, and investigate the chemical\nconstituents of the stars in the Milky Way, when we paint nymphs and\ncompose novels and symphonies,--our business will not become either art\nor science until such time as it is accepted by those people for whom it\nis wrought.\n\nIf it were decided that only certain people should produce food, and if\nall the rest were forbidden to do this, or if they were rendered\nincapable of producing food, I suppose that the quality of food would be\nlowered.  If the people who enjoyed the monopoly of producing food were\nRussian peasants, there would be no other food than black bread and\ncabbage-soup, and so on, and kvas,--nothing except what they like, and\nwhat is agreeable to them.  The same thing would happen in the case of\nthat loftiest human pursuit, of arts and sciences, if one caste were to\narrogate to itself a monopoly of them: but with this sole difference,\nthat, in the matter of bodily food, there can be no great departure from\nnature, and bread and cabbage-soup, although not very savory viands, are\nfit for consumption; but in spiritual food, there may exist the very\ngreatest departures from nature, and some people may feed themselves for\na long time on poisonous spiritual nourishment, which is directly\nunsuitable for, or injurious to, them; they may slowly kill themselves\nwith spiritual opium or liquors, and they may offer this same food to the\nmasses.\n\nIt is this very thing that is going on among us.  And it has come about\nbecause the position of men of science and art is a privileged one,\nbecause art and science (in our day), in our world, are not at all a\nrational occupation of all mankind without exception, exerting their best\npowers for the service of art and science, but an occupation of a\nrestricted circle of people holding a monopoly of these industries, and\nentitling themselves men of art and science, and who have, therefore,\nperverted the very idea of art and science, and have lost all the meaning\nof their vocation, and who are only concerned in amusing and rescuing\nfrom crushing _ennui_ their tiny circle of idle mouths.\n\nEver since men have existed, they have always had science and art in the\nsimplest and broadest sense of the term.  Science, in the sense of the\nwhole of knowledge acquired by mankind, exists and always has existed,\nand life without it is not conceivable; and there is no possibility of\neither attacking or defending science, taken in this sense.\n\nBut the point lies here,--that the scope of the knowledge of all mankind\nas a whole is so multifarious, ranging from the knowledge of how to\nextract iron to the knowledge of the movements of the planets, that man\nloses himself in this multitude of existing knowledge,--knowledge capable\nof _endless_ possibilities, if he have no guiding thread, by the aid of\nwhich he can classify this knowledge, and arrange the branches according\nto the degrees of their significance and importance.\n\nBefore a man undertakes to learn any thing whatever, he must make up his\nmind that that branch of knowledge is of weight to him, and of more\nweight and importance than the countless other objects of study with\nwhich he is surrounded.  Before undertaking the study of any thing, a man\ndecides for what purpose he is studying this subject, and not the others.\nBut to study every thing, as the men of scientific science in our day\npreach, without any idea of what is to come out of such study, is\ndownright impossible, because the number of subjects of study is\n_endless_; and hence, no matter how many branches we may acquire, their\nacquisition can possess no significance or reason.  And, therefore, in\nancient times, down to even a very recent date, until the appearance of\nscientific science, man's highest wisdom consisted in finding that\nguiding thread, according to which the knowledge of men should be\nclassified as being of primary or of secondary importance.  And this\nknowledge, which forms the guide to all other branches of knowledge, men\nhave always called science in the strictest acceptation of the word.  And\nsuch science there has always been, even down to our own day, in all\nhuman communities which have emerged from their primal state of savagery.\n\nEver since mankind has existed, teachers have always arisen among\npeoples, who have enunciated science in this restricted sense,--the\nscience of what it is most useful for man to know.  This science has\nalways had for its object the knowledge of what is the true ground of the\nwell-being of each individual man, and of all men, and why.  Such was the\nscience of Confucius, of Buddha, of Socrates, of Mahomet, and of others;\nsuch is this science as they understood it, and as all men--with the\nexception of our little circle of so-called cultured people--understand\nit.  This science has not only always occupied the highest place, but has\nbeen the only and sole science, from which the standing of the rest has\nbeen determined.  And this was the case, not in the least because, as the\nso-called scientific people of our day think, cunning priestly teachers\nof this science attributed to it such significance, but because in\nreality, as every one knows, both by personal experience and by\nreflection, there can be no science except the science of that in which\nthe destiny and welfare of man consist.  For the objects of science are\n_incalculable_ in number,--I undermine the word \"incalculable\" in the\nexact sense in which I understand it,--and without the knowledge of that\nin which the destiny and welfare of all men consist, there is no\npossibility of making a choice amid this interminable multitude of\nsubjects; and therefore, without this knowledge, all other arts and\nbranches of learning will become, as they have become among us, an idle\nand hurtful diversion.\n\nMankind has existed and existed, and never has it existed without the\nscience of that in which the destiny and the welfare of men consist.  It\nis true that the science of the welfare of men appears different on\nsuperficial observation, among the Buddhists, the Brahmins, the Hebrews,\nthe Confucians, the Tauists; but nevertheless, wherever we hear of men\nwho have emerged from a state of savagery, we find this science.  And all\nof a sudden it appears that the men of our day have decided that this\nsame science, which has hitherto served as the guiding thread of all\nhuman knowledge, is the very thing which hinders every thing.  Men erect\nbuildings; and one architect has made one estimate of cost, a second has\nmade another, and a third yet another.  The estimates differ somewhat;\nbut they are correct, so that any one can see, that, if the whole is\ncarried out in accordance with the calculations, the building will be\nerected.  Along come people, and assert that the chief point lies in\nhaving no estimates, and that it should be built thus--by the eye.  And\nthis \"thus,\" men call the most accurate of scientific science.  Men\nrepudiate every science, the very substance of science,--the definition\nof the destiny and the welfare of men,--and this repudiation they\ndesignate as science.\n\nEver since men have existed, great minds have been born into their midst,\nwhich, in the conflict with reason and conscience, have put to themselves\nquestions as to \"what constitutes welfare,--the destiny and welfare, not\nof myself alone, but of every man?\"  What does that power which has\ncreated and which leads me, demand of me and of every man?  And what is\nit necessary for me to do, in order to comply with the requirements\nimposed upon me by the demands of individual and universal welfare?  They\nhave asked themselves: \"I am a whole, and also a part of something\ninfinite, eternal; what, then, are my relations to other parts similar to\nmyself, to men and to the whole--to the world?\"\n\nAnd from the voices of conscience and of reason, and from a comparison of\nwhat their contemporaries and men who had lived before them, and who had\npropounded to themselves the same questions, had said, these great\nteachers have deduced their doctrines, which were simple, clear,\nintelligible to all men, and always such as were susceptible of\nfulfilment.  Such men have existed of the first, second, third, and\nlowest ranks.  The world is full of such men.  Every living man propounds\nthe question to himself, how to reconcile the demands of welfare, and of\nhis personal existence, with conscience and reason; and from this\nuniversal labor, slowly but uninterruptedly, new forms of life, which are\nmore in accord with the requirements of reason and of conscience, are\nworked out.\n\nAll at once, a new caste of people makes its appearance, and they say,\n\"All this is nonsense; all this must be abandoned.\"  This is the\ndeductive method of ratiocination (wherein lies the difference between\nthe deductive and the inductive method, no one can understand); these are\nthe dogmas of the technological and metaphysical period.  Every thing\nthat these men discover by inward experience, and which they communicate\nto one another, concerning their knowledge of the law of their existence\n(of their functional activity, according to their own jargon), every\nthing that the grandest minds of mankind have accomplished in this\ndirection, since the beginning of the world,--all this is nonsense, and\nhas no weight whatever.  According to this new doctrine, it appears that\nyou are cells: and that you, as a cell, have a very definite functional\nactivity, which you not only fulfil, but which you infallibly feel within\nyou; and that you are a thinking, talking, understanding cell, and that\nyou, for this reason, can ask another similar talking cell whether it is\njust the same, and in this way verify your own experience; that you can\ntake advantage of the fact that speaking cells, which have lived before\nyou, have written on the same subject, and that you have millions of\ncells which confirm your observations by their agreement with the cells\nwhich have written down their thoughts,--all this signifies nothing; all\nthis is an evil and an erroneous method.\n\nThe true scientific method is this: If you wish to know in what the\ndestiny and the welfare of all mankind and of all the world consists, you\nmust, first of all, cease to listen to the voices of your conscience and\nof your reason, which present themselves in you and in others like you;\nyou must cease to believe all that the great teachers of mankind have\nsaid with regard to your conscience and reason, and you must consider all\nthis as nonsense, and begin all over again.  And, in order to understand\nevery thing from the beginning, you must look through microscopes at the\nmovements of amoebae, and cells in worms, or, with still greater\ncomposure, believe in every thing that men with a diploma of\ninfallibility shall say to you about them.  And as you gaze at the\nmovements of these cells, or read about what others have seen, you must\nattribute to these cells your own human sensations and calculations as to\nwhat they desire, whither they are directing themselves, how they compare\nand discuss, and to what they have become accustomed; and from these\nobservations (in which there is not a word about an error of thought or\nof expression) you must deduce a conclusion by analogy as to what you\nare, what is your destiny, wherein lies the welfare of yourself and of\nother cells like you.  In order to understand yourself, you must study\nnot only the worms which you see, but microscopic creatures which you can\nbarely see, and transformations from one set of creatures into others,\nwhich no one has ever beheld, and which you, most assuredly, will never\nbehold.  And the same with art.  Where there has been true science, art\nhas always been its exponent.\n\nEver since men have been in existence, they have been in the habit of\ndeducing, from all pursuits, the expressions of various branches of\nlearning concerning the destiny and the welfare of man, and the\nexpression of this knowledge has been art in the strict sense of the\nword.\n\nEver since men have existed, there have been those who were peculiarly\nsensitive and responsive to the doctrine regarding the destiny and\nwelfare of man; who have given expression to their own and the popular\nconflict, to the delusions which lead them astray from their destinies,\ntheir sufferings in this conflict, their hopes in the triumph of good,\nthem despair over the triumph of evil, and their raptures in the\nconsciousness of the approaching bliss of man, on viol and tabret, in\nimages and words.  Always, down to the most recent times, art has served\nscience and life,--only then was it what has been so highly esteemed of\nmen.  But art, in its capacity of an important human activity,\ndisappeared simultaneously with the substitution for the genuine science\nof destiny and welfare, of the science of any thing you choose to fancy.\nArt has existed among all peoples, and will exist until that which among\nus is scornfully called religion has come to be considered the only\nscience.\n\nIn our European world, so long as there existed a Church, as the doctrine\nof destiny and welfare, and so long as the Church was regarded as the\nonly true science, art served the Church, and remained true art: but as\nsoon as art abandoned the Church, and began to serve science, while\nscience served whatever came to hand, art lost its significance.  And\nnotwithstanding the rights claimed on the score of ancient memories, and\nof the clumsy assertion which only proves its loss of its calling, that\nart serves art, it has become a trade, providing men with something\nagreeable; and as such, it inevitably comes into the category of\nchoreographic, culinary, hair-dressing, and cosmetic arts, whose\npractitioners designate themselves as artists, with the same right as the\npoets, printers, and musicians of our day.\n\nGlance backward into the past, and you will see that in the course of\nthousands of years, out of milliards of people, only half a score of\nConfucius', Buddhas, Solomons, Socrates, Solons, and Homers have been\nproduced.  Evidently, they are rarely met with among men, in spite of the\nfact that these men have not been selected from a single caste, but from\nmankind at large.  Evidently, these true teachers and artists and learned\nmen, the purveyors of spiritual nourishment, are rare.  And it is not\nwithout reason that mankind has valued and still values them so highly.\n\nBut it now appears, that all these great factors in the science and art\nof the past are no longer of use to us.  Nowadays, scientific and\nartistic authorities can, in accordance with the law of division of\nlabor, be turned out by factory methods; and, in one decade, more great\nmen have been manufactured in art and science, than have ever been born\nof such among all nations, since the foundation of the world.  Nowadays\nthere is a guild of learned men and artists, and they prepare, by\nperfected methods, all that spiritual food which man requires.  And they\nhave prepared so much of it, that it is no longer necessary to refer to\nthe elder authorities, who have preceded them,--not only to the ancients,\nbut to those much nearer to us.  All that was the activity of the\ntheological and metaphysical period,--all that must be wiped out: but the\ntrue, the rational activity began, say, fifty years ago, and in the\ncourse of those fifty years we have made so many great men, that there\nare about ten great men to every branch of science.  And there have come\nto be so many sciences, that, fortunately, it is easy to make them.  All\nthat is required is to add the Greek word \"logy\" to the name, and force\nthem to conform to a set rubric, and the science is all complete.  They\nhave created so many sciences, that not only can no one man know them\nall, but not a single individual can remember all the titles of all the\nexisting sciences; the titles alone form a thick lexicon, and new\nsciences are manufactured every day.  They have been manufactured on the\npattern of that Finnish teacher who taught the landed proprietor's\nchildren Finnish instead of French.  Every thing has been excellently\ninculcated; but there is one objection,--that no one except ourselves can\nunderstand any thing of it, and all this is reckoned as utterly useless\nnonsense.  However, there is an explanation even for this.  People do not\nappreciate the full value of scientific science, because they are under\nthe influence of the theological period, that profound period when all\nthe people, both among the Hebrews, and the Chinese, and the Indians, and\nthe Greeks, understood every thing that their great teachers said to\nthem.\n\nBut, from whatever cause this has come about, the fact remains, that\nsciences and arts have always existed among mankind, and, when they\nreally did exist, they were useful and intelligible to all the people.\nBut we practise something which we call science and art, but it appears\nthat what we do is unnecessary and unintelligible to man.  And hence,\nhowever beautiful may be the things that we accomplish, we have no right\nto call them arts and sciences.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\n\"But you only furnish a different definition of arts and sciences, which\nis stricter, and is incompatible with science,\" I shall be told in answer\nto this; \"nevertheless, scientific and artistic activity does still\nexist.  There are the Galileos, Brunos, Homers, Michael Angelos,\nBeethovens, and all the lesser learned men and artists, who have\nconsecrated their entire lives to the service of science and art, and who\nwere, and will remain, the benefactors of mankind.\"\n\nGenerally this is what people say, striving to forget that new principle\nof the division of labor, on the basis of which science and art now\noccupy their privileged position, and on whose basis we are now enabled\nto decide without grounds, but by a given standard: Is there, or is there\nnot, any foundation for that activity which calls itself science and art,\nto so magnify itself?\n\nWhen the Egyptian or the Grecian priests produced their mysteries, which\nwere unintelligible to any one, and stated concerning these mysteries\nthat all science and all art were contained in them, I could not verify\nthe reality of their science on the basis of the benefit procured by them\nto the people, because science, according to their assertions, was\nsupernatural.  But now we all possess a very simple and clear definition\nof the activity of art and science, which excludes every thing\nsupernatural: science and art promise to carry out the mental activity of\nmankind, for the welfare of society, or of all the human race.\n\nThe definition of scientific science and art is entirely correct; but,\nunfortunately, the activity of the present arts and sciences does not\ncome under this head.  Some of them are directly injurious, others are\nuseless, others still are worthless,--good only for the wealthy.  They do\nnot fulfil that which, by their own definition, they have undertaken to\naccomplish; and hence they have as little right to regard themselves as\nmen of art and science, as a corrupt priesthood, which does not fulfil\nthe obligations which it has assumed, has the right to regard itself as\nthe bearer of divine truth.\n\nAnd it can be understood why the makers of the present arts and sciences\nhave not fulfilled, and cannot fulfil, their vocation.  They do not\nfulfil it, because out of their obligations they have erected a right.\n\nScientific and artistic activity, in its real sense, is only fruitful\nwhen it knows no rights, but recognizes only obligations.  Only because\nit is its property to be always thus, does mankind so highly prize this\nactivity.  If men really were called to the service of others through\nartistic work, they would see in that work only obligation, and they\nwould fulfil it with toil, with privations, and with self-abnegation.\n\nThe thinker or the artist will never sit calmly on Olympian heights, as\nwe have become accustomed to represent them to ourselves.  The thinker or\nthe artist should suffer in company with the people, in order that he may\nfind salvation or consolation.  Besides this, he will suffer because he\nis always and eternally in turmoil and agitation: he might decide and say\nthat that which would confer welfare on men, would free them from\nsuffering, would afford them consolation; but he has not said so, and has\nnot presented it as he should have done; he has not decided, and he has\nnot spoken; and to-morrow, possibly, it will be too late,--he will die.\nAnd therefore suffering and self-sacrifice will always be the lot of the\nthinker and the artist.\n\nNot of this description will be the thinker and artist who is reared in\nan establishment where, apparently, they manufacture the learned man or\nthe artist (but in point of fact, they manufacture destroyers of science\nand of art), who receives a diploma and a certificate, who would be glad\nnot to think and not to express that which is imposed on his soul, but\nwho cannot avoid doing that to which two irresistible forces draw him,--an\ninward prompting, and the demand of men.\n\nThere will be no sleek, plump, self-satisfied thinkers and artists.\nSpiritual activity, and its expression, which are actually necessary to\nothers, are the most burdensome of all man's avocations; a cross, as the\nGospels phrase it.  And the sole indubitable sign of the presence of a\nvocation is self-devotion, the sacrifice of self for the manifestation of\nthe power that is imposed upon man for the benefit of others.\n\nIt is possible to study out how many beetles there are in the world, to\nview the spots on the sun, to write romances and operas, without\nsuffering; but it is impossible, without self-sacrifice, to instruct\npeople in their true happiness, which consists solely in renunciation of\nself and the service of others, and to give strong expression to this\ndoctrine, without self-sacrifice.\n\nChrist did not die on the cross in vain; not in vain does the sacrifice\nof suffering conquer all things.\n\nBut our art and science are provided with certificates and diplomas; and\nthe only anxiety of all men is, how to still better guarantee them, i.e.,\nhow to render the service of the people impracticable for them.\n\nTrue art and true science possess two unmistakable marks: the first, an\ninward mark, which is this, that the servitor of art and science will\nfulfil his vocation, not for profit but with self-sacrifice; and the\nsecond, an external sign,--his productions will be intelligible to all\nthe people whose welfare he has in view.\n\nNo matter what people have fixed upon as their vocation and their\nwelfare, science will be the doctrine of this vocation and welfare, and\nart will be the expression of that doctrine.  That which is called\nscience and art, among us, is the product of idle minds and feelings,\nwhich have for their object to tickle similar idle minds and feelings.\nOur arts and sciences are incomprehensible, and say nothing to the\npeople, for they have not the welfare of the common people in view.\n\nEver since the life of men has been known to us, we find, always and\neverywhere, the reigning doctrine falsely designating itself as science,\nnot manifesting itself to the common people, but obscuring for them the\nmeaning of life.  Thus it was among the Greeks the sophists, then among\nthe Christians the mystics, gnostics, scholastics, among the Hebrews the\nTalmudists and Cabalists, and so on everywhere, down to our own times.\n\nHow fortunate it is for us that we live in so peculiar an age, when that\nmental activity which calls itself science, not only does not err, but\nfinds itself, as we are assured, in a remarkably flourishing condition!\nDoes not this peculiar good fortune arise from the fact that man can not\nand will not see his own hideousness?  Why is there nothing left of those\nsciences, and sophists, and Cabalists, and Talmudists, but words, while\nwe are so exceptionally happy?  Surely the signs are identical.  There is\nthe same self-satisfaction and blind confidence that we, precisely we,\nand only we, are on the right path, and that the real thing is only\nbeginning with us.  There is the same expectation that we shall discover\nsomething remarkable; and that chief sign which leads us astray convicts\nus of our error: all our wisdom remains with us, and the common people do\nnot understand, and do not accept, and do not need it.\n\nOur position is a very difficult one, but why not look at it squarely?\n\nIt is time to recover our senses, and to scrutinize ourselves.  Surely we\nare nothing else than the scribes and Pharisees, who sit in Moses' seat,\nand who have taken the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and will neither go\nin ourselves, nor permit others to go in.  Surely we, the high priests of\nscience and art, are ourselves worthless deceivers, possessing much less\nright to our position than the most crafty and depraved priests.  Surely\nwe have no justification for our privileged position.  The priests had a\nright to their position: they declared that they taught the people life\nand salvation.  But we have taken their place, and we do not instruct the\npeople in life,--we even admit that such instruction is unnecessary,--but\nwe educate our children in the same Talmudic-Greek and Latin grammar, in\norder that they may be able to pursue the same life of parasites which we\nlead ourselves.  We say, \"There used to be castes, but there are none\namong us.\"  But what does it mean, that some people and their children\ntoil, while other people and their children do not toil?\n\nBring hither an Indian ignorant of our language, and show him European\nlife, and our life, for several generations, and he will recognize the\nsame leading, well-defined castes--of laborers and non-laborers--as there\nare in his own country.  And as in his land, so in ours, the right of\nrefusing to labor is conferred by a peculiar consecration, which we call\nscience and art, or, in general terms, culture.  It is this culture, and\nall the distortions of sense connected with it, which have brought us to\nthat marvellous madness, in consequence of which we do not see that which\nis so clear and indubitable.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n\nThen, what is to be done?  What are we to do?\n\nThis question, which includes within itself both an admission that our\nlife is evil and wrong, and in connection with this,--as though it were\nan exercise for it,--that it is impossible, nevertheless, to change it,\nthis question I have heard, and I continue to hear, on all sides.  I have\ndescribed my own sufferings, my own gropings, and my own solution of this\nquestion.  I am the same kind of a man as everybody else; and if I am in\nany wise distinguished from the average man of our circle, it is chiefly\nin this respect, that I, more than the average man, have served and\nwinked at the false doctrine of our world; I have received more\napprobation from men professing the prevailing doctrine: and therefore,\nmore than others, have I become depraved, and wandered from the path.  And\ntherefore I think that the solution of the problem, which I have found in\nmy own case, will be applicable to all sincere people who are propounding\nthe same question to themselves.\n\nFirst of all, in answer to the question, \"What is to be done?\" I told\nmyself: \"I must lie neither to other people nor to myself.  I must not\nfear the truth, whithersoever it may lead me.\"\n\nWe all know what it means to lie to other people, but we are not afraid\nto lie to ourselves; yet the very worst downright lie, to other people,\nis not to be compared in its consequences with the lie to ourselves, upon\nwhich we base our whole life.\n\nThis is the lie of which we must not be guilty if we are to be in a\nposition to answer the question: \"What is to be done?\"  And, in fact, how\nam I to answer the question, \"What is to be done?\" when every thing that\nI do, when my whole life, is founded on a lie, and when I carefully\nparade this lie as the truth before others and before myself?  Not to\nlie, in this sense, means not to fear the truth, not to devise\nsubterfuges, and not to accept the subterfuges devised by others for the\npurpose of hiding from myself the deductions of my reason and my\nconscience; not to fear to part company with all those who surround me,\nand to remain alone in company with reason and conscience; not to fear\nthat position to which the truth shall lead me, being firmly convinced\nthat that position to which truth and conscience shall conduct me,\nhowever singular it may be, cannot be worse than the one which is founded\non a lie.  Not to lie, in our position of privileged persons of mental\nlabor, means, not to be afraid to reckon one's self up wrongly.  It is\npossible that you are already so deeply indebted that you cannot take\nstock of yourself; but to whatever extent this may be the case, however\nlong may be the account, however far you have strayed from the path, it\nis still better than to continue therein.  A lie to other people is not\nalone unprofitable; every matter is settled more directly and more\nspeedily by the truth than by a lie.  A lie to others only entangles\nmatters, and delays the settlement; but a lie to one's self, set forth as\nthe truth, ruins a man's whole life.  If a man, having entered on the\nwrong path, assumes that it is the true one, then every step that he\ntakes on that path removes him farther from his goal.  If a man who has\nlong been travelling on this false path divines for himself, or is\ninformed by some one, that his course is a mistaken one, but grows\nalarmed at the idea that he has wandered very far astray and tries to\nconvince himself that he may, possibly, still strike into the right road,\nthen he never will get into it.  If a man quails before the truth, and,\non perceiving it, does not accept it, but does accept a lie for the\ntruth, then he never will learn what he ought to do.  We, the not only\nwealthy, but privileged and so-called cultivated persons, have advanced\nso far on the wrong road, that a great deal of determination, or a very\ngreat deal of suffering on the wrong road, is required, in order to bring\nus to our senses and to the acknowledgment of the lie in which we are\nliving.  I have perceived the lie of our lives, thanks to the sufferings\nwhich the false path entailed upon me, and, having recognized the\nfalseness of this path on which I stood, I have had the boldness to go at\nfirst in thought only--whither reason and conscience led me, without\nreflecting where they would bring me out.  And I have been rewarded for\nthis boldness.\n\nAll the complicated, broken, tangled, and incoherent phenomena of life\nsurrounding me, have suddenly become clear; and my position in the midst\nof these phenomena, which was formerly strange and burdensome, has\nbecome, all at once, natural, and easy to bear.\n\nIn this new position, my activity was defined with perfect accuracy; not\nat all as it had previously presented itself to me, but as a new and much\nmore peaceful, loving, and joyous activity.  The very thing which had\nformerly terrified me, now began to attract me.  Hence I think, that the\nman who will honestly put to himself the question, \"What is to be done?\"\nand, replying to this query, will not lie to himself, but will go whither\nhis reason leads, has already solved the problem.\n\nThere is only one thing that can hinder him in his search for an\nissue,--an erroneously lofty idea of himself and of his position.  This\nwas the case with me; and then another, arising from the first answer to\nthe question: \"What is to be done?\" consisted for me in this, that it was\nnecessary for me to repent, in the full sense of that word,--i.e., to\nentirely alter my conception of my position and my activity; to confess\nthe hurtfulness and emptiness of my activity, instead of its utility and\ngravity; to confess my own ignorance instead of culture; to confess my\nimmorality and harshness in the place of my kindness and morality;\ninstead of my elevation, to acknowledge my lowliness.  I say, that in\naddition to not lying to myself, I had to repent, because, although the\none flows from the other, a false conception of my lofty importance had\nso grown up with me, that, until I sincerely repented and cut myself free\nfrom that false estimate which I had formed of myself, I did not perceive\nthe greater part of the lie of which I had been guilty to myself.  Only\nwhen I had repented, that is to say, when I had ceased to look upon\nmyself as a regular man, and had begun to regard myself as a man exactly\nlike every one else,--only then did my path become clear before me.\nBefore that time I had not been able to answer the question: \"What is to\nbe done?\" because I had stated the question itself wrongly.\n\nAs long as I did not repent, I put the question thus: \"What sphere of\nactivity should I choose, I, the man who has received the education and\nthe talents which have fallen to my shame?  How, in this fashion, make\nrecompense with that education and those talents, for what I have taken,\nand for what I still take, from the people?\"  This question was wrong,\nbecause it contained a false representation, to the effect that I was not\na man just like them, but a peculiar man called to serve the people with\nthose talents and with that education which I had won by the efforts of\nforty years.\n\nI propounded the query to myself; but, in reality, I had answered it in\nadvance, in that I had in advance defined the sort of activity which was\nagreeable to me, and by which I was called upon to serve the people.  I\nhad, in fact, asked myself: \"In what manner could I, so very fine a\nwriter, who had acquired so much learning and talents, make use of them\nfor the benefit of the people?\"\n\nBut the question should have been put as it would have stood for a\nlearned rabbi who had gone through the course of the Talmud, and had\nlearned by heart the number of letters in all the holy books, and all the\nfine points of his art.  The question for me, as for the rabbi, should\nstand thus: \"What am I, who have spent, owing to the misfortune of my\nsurroundings, the year's best fitted for study in the acquisition of\ngrammar, geography, judicial science, poetry, novels and romances, the\nFrench language, pianoforte playing, philosophical theories, and military\nexercises, instead of inuring myself to labor; what am I, who have passed\nthe best years of my life in idle occupations which are corrupting to the\nsoul,--what am I to do in defiance of these unfortunate conditions of the\npast, in order that I may requite those people who during the whole time\nhave fed and clothed, yes, and who even now continue to feed and clothe\nme?\"  Had the question then stood as it stands before me now, after I\nhave repented,--\"What am I, so corrupt a man, to do?\" the answer would\nhave been easy: \"To strive, first of all, to support myself honestly;\nthat is, to learn not to live upon others; and while I am learning, and\nwhen I have learned this, to render aid on all possible occasions to the\npeople, with my hands, and my feet, and my brain, and my heart, and with\nevery thing to which the people should present a claim.\"\n\nAnd therefore I say, that for the man of our circle, in addition to not\nlying to himself or to others, repentance is also necessary, and that he\nshould scrape from himself that pride which has sprung up in us, in our\nculture, in our refinements, in our talents; and that he should confess\nthat he is not a benefactor of the people and a distinguished man, who\ndoes not refuse to share with the people his useful acquirements, but\nthat he should confess himself to be a thoroughly guilty, corrupt, and\ngood-for-nothing man, who desires to reform himself and not to behave\nbenevolently towards the people, but simply to cease wounding and\ninsulting them.\n\nI often hear the questions of good young men who sympathize with the\nrenunciatory part of my writings, and who ask, \"Well, and what then shall\nI do?  What am I to do, now that I have finished my course in the\nuniversity, or in some other institution, in order that I may be of use?\"\nYoung men ask this, and in the depths of their soul it is already decided\nthat the education which they have received constitutes their privilege\nand that they desire to serve the people precisely by means of thus\nsuperiority.  And hence, one thing which they will in no wise do, is to\nbear themselves honestly and critically towards that which they call\ntheir culture, and ask themselves, are those qualities which they call\ntheir culture good or bad?  If they will do this, they will infallibly be\nled to see the necessity of renouncing their culture, and the necessity\nof beginning to learn all over again; and this is the one indispensable\nthing.  They can in no wise solve the problem, \"What to do?\" because this\nquestion does not stand before them as it should stand.  The question\nmust stand thus: \"In what manner am I, a helpless, useless man, who,\nowing to the misfortune of my conditions, have wasted my best years of\nstudy in conning the scientific Talmud which corrupts soul and body, to\ncorrect this mistake, and learn to serve the people?\"  But it presents\nitself to them thus: \"How am I, a man who has acquired so much very fine\nlearning, to turn this very fine learning to the use of the people?\"  And\nsuch a man will never answer the question, \"What is to be done?\" until he\nrepents.  And repentance is not terrible, just as truth is not terrible,\nand it is equally joyful and fruitful.  It is only necessary to accept\nthe truth wholly, and to repent wholly, in order to understand that no\none possesses any rights, privileges, or peculiarities in the matter of\nthis life of ours, but that there are no ends or bounds to obligation,\nand that a man's first and most indubitable duty is to take part in the\nstruggle with nature for his own life and for the lives of others.\n\nAnd this confession of a man's obligation constitutes the gist of the\nthird answer to the question, \"What is to be done?\"\n\nI tried not to lie to myself: I tried to cast out from myself the remains\nof my false conceptions of the importance of my education and talents,\nand to repent; but on the way to a decision of the question, \"What to\ndo?\" a fresh difficulty arose.  There are so many different occupations,\nthat an indication was necessary as to the precise one which was to be\nadopted.  And the answer to this question was furnished me by sincere\nrepentance for the evil in which I had lived.\n\n\"What to do?  Precisely what to do?\" all ask, and that is what I also\nasked so long as, under the influence of my exalted idea of any own\nimportance, I did not perceive that my first and unquestionable duty was\nto feed myself, to clothe myself, to furnish my own fuel, to do my own\nbuilding, and, by so doing, to serve others, because, ever since the\nwould has existed, the first and indubitable duty of every man has\nconsisted and does consist in this.\n\nIn fact, no matter what a man may have assumed to be his\nvocation,--whether it be to govern people, to defend his\nfellow-countrymen, to divine service, to instruct others, to invent means\nto heighten the pleasures of life, to discover the laws of the world, to\nincorporate eternal truths in artistic representations,--the duty of a\nreasonable man is to take part in the struggle with nature, for the\nsustenance of his own life and of that of others.  This obligation is the\nfirst of all, because what people need most of all is their life; and\ntherefore, in order to defend and instruct the people, and render their\nlives more agreeable, it is requisite to preserve that life itself, while\nmy refusal to share in the struggle, my monopoly of the labors of others,\nis equivalent to annihilation of the lives of others.  And, therefore, it\nis not rational to serve the lives of men by annihilating the lives of\nmen; and it is impossible to say that I am serving men, when, by my life,\nI am obviously injuring them.\n\nA man's obligation to struggle with nature for the acquisition of the\nmeans of livelihood will always be the first and most unquestionable of\nall obligations, because this obligation is a law of life, departure from\nwhich entails the inevitable punishment of either bodily or mental\nannihilation of the life of man.  If a man living alone excuses himself\nfrom the obligation of struggling with nature, he is immediately\npunished, in that his body perishes.  But if a man excuses himself from\nthis obligation by making other people fulfil it for him, then also he is\nimmediately punished by the annihilation of his mental life; that is to\nsay, of the life which possesses rational thought.\n\nIn this one act, man receives--if the two things are to be separated--full\nsatisfaction of the bodily and spiritual demands of his nature.  The\nfeeding, clothing, and taking care of himself and his family, constitute\nthe satisfaction of the bodily demands and requirements; and doing the\nsame for other people, constitutes the satisfaction of his spiritual\nrequirements.  Every other employment of man is only legal when it is\ndirected to the satisfaction of this very first duty of man; for the\nfulfilment of this duty constitutes the whole life of man.\n\nI had been so turned about by my previous life, this first and\nindubitable law of God or of nature is so concealed in our sphere of\nsociety, that the fulfilment of this law seemed to me strange, terrible,\neven shameful; as though the fulfilment of an eternal, unquestionable\nlaw, and not the departure from it, can be terrible, strange, and\nshameful.\n\nAt first it seemed to me that the fulfilment of this matter required some\npreparation, arrangement or community of men, holding similar views,--the\nconsent of one's family, life in the country; it seemed to me disgraceful\nto make a show of myself before people, to undertake a thing so improper\nin our conditions of existence, as bodily toil, and I did not know how to\nset about it.  But it was only necessary for me to understand that this\nis no exclusive occupation which requires to be invented and arranged\nfor, but that this employment was merely a return from the false position\nin which I found myself, to a natural one; was only a rectification of\nthat lie in which I was living.  I had only to recognize this fact, and\nall these difficulties vanished.  It was not in the least necessary to\nmake preparations and arrangements, and to await the consent of others,\nfor, no matter in what position I had found myself, there had always been\npeople who had fed, clothed and warmed me, in addition to themselves; and\neverywhere, under all conditions, I could do the same for myself and for\nthem, if I had the time and the strength.  Neither could I experience\nfalse shame in an unwonted occupation, no matter how surprising it might\nbe to people, because, through not doing it, I had already experienced\nnot false but real shame.\n\nAnd when I had reached this confession and the practical deduction from\nit, I was fully rewarded for not having quailed before the deductions of\nreason, and for following whither they led me.  On arriving at this\npractical deduction, I was amazed at the ease and simplicity with which\nall the problems which had previously seemed to me so difficult and so\ncomplicated, were solved.\n\nTo the question, \"What is it necessary to do?\" the most indubitable\nanswer presented itself: first of all, that which it was necessary for me\nto do was, to attend to my own samovar, my own stove, my own water, my\nown clothing; to every thing that I could do for myself.  To the\nquestion, \"Will it not seem strange to people if you do this?\" it\nappeared that this strangeness lasted only a week, and after the lapse of\nthat week, it would have seemed strange had I returned to my former\nconditions of life.  With regard to the question, \"Is it necessary to\norganize this physical labor, to institute an association in the country,\non my land?\" it appeared that nothing of the sort was necessary; that\nlabor, if it does not aim at the acquisition of all possible leisure, and\nthe enjoyment of the labor of others,--like the labor of people bent on\naccumulating money,--but if it have for its object the satisfaction of\nrequirements, will itself be drawn from the city to the country, to the\nland, where this labor is the most fruitful and cheerful.  But it is not\nrequisite to institute any association, because the man who labors,\nnaturally and of himself, attaches himself to the existing association of\nlaboring men.\n\nTo the question, whether this labor would not monopolize all my time, and\ndeprive me of those intellectual pursuits which I love, to which I am\naccustomed, and which, in my moments of self-conceit, I regard as not\nuseless to others? I received a most unexpected reply.  The energy of my\nintellectual activity increased, and increased in exact proportion with\nbodily application, while freeing itself from every thing superfluous.  It\nappeared that by dedicating to physical toil eight hours, that half of\nthe day which I had formerly passed in the oppressive state of a struggle\nwith _ennui_, eight hours remained to me, of which only five of\nintellectual activity, according to my terms, were necessary to me.  For\nit appeared, that if I, a very voluminous writer, who had done nothing\nfor nearly forty years except write, and who had written three hundred\nprinted sheets;--if I had worked during all those forty years at ordinary\nlabor with the working-people, then, not reckoning winter evenings and\nleisure days, if I had read and studied for five hours every day, and had\nwritten a couple of pages only on holidays (and I have been in the habit\nof writing at the rate of one printed sheet a day), then I should have\nwritten those three hundred sheets in fourteen years.  The fact seemed\nstartling: yet it is the most simple arithmetical calculation, which can\nbe made by a seven-year-old boy, but which I had not been able to make up\nto this time.  There are twenty-four hours in the day; if we take away\neight hours, sixteen remain.  If any man engaged in intellectual\noccupations devote five hours every day to his occupation, he will\naccomplish a fearful amount.  And what is to be done with the remaining\neleven hours?\n\nIt proved that physical labor not only does not exclude the possibility\nof mental activity, but that it improves its quality, and encourages it.\n\nIn answer to the question, whether this physical toil does not deprive me\nof many innocent pleasures peculiar to man, such as the enjoyment of the\narts, the acquisition of learning, intercourse with people, and the\ndelights of life in general, it turned out exactly the reverse: the more\nintense the labor, the more nearly it approached what is considered the\ncoarsest agricultural toil, the more enjoyment and knowledge did I gain,\nand the more did I come into close and loving communion with men, and the\nmore happiness did I derive from life.\n\nIn answer to the question (which I have so often heard from persons not\nthoroughly sincere), as to what result could flow from so insignificant a\ndrop in the sea of sympathy as my individual physical labor in the sea of\nlabor ingulfing me, I received also the most satisfactory and unexpected\nof answers.  It appeared that all I had to do was to make physical labor\nthe habitual condition of my life, and the majority of my false, but\nprecious, habits and my demands, when physically idle, fell away from me\nat once of their own accord, without the slightest exertion on my part.\nNot to mention the habit of turning day into night and _vice versa_, my\nhabits connected with my bed, with my clothing, with conventional\ncleanliness,--which are downright impossible and oppressive with physical\nlabor,--and my demands as to the quality of my food, were entirely\nchanged.  In place of the dainty, rich, refined, complicated,\nhighly-spiced food, to which I had formerly inclined, the most simple\nviands became needful and most pleasing of all to me,--cabbage-soup,\nporridge, black bread, and tea _v prikusku_. {238}  So that, not to\nmention the influence upon me of the example of the simple\nworking-people, who are content with little, with whom I came in contact\nin the course of my bodily toil, my very requirements underwent a change\nin consequence of my toilsome life; so that my drop of physical labor in\nthe sea of universal labor became larger and larger, in proportion as I\naccustomed myself to, and appropriated, the habits of the laboring\nclasses; in proportion, also, to the success of my labor, my demands for\nlabor from others grew less and less, and my life naturally, without\nexertion or privations, approached that simple existence of which I could\nnot even dream without fulfilling the law of labor.\n\nIt proved that my dearest demands from life, namely, my demands for\nvanity, and diversion from _ennui_, arose directly from my idle life.\nThere was no place for vanity, in connection with physical labor; and no\ndiversions were needed, since my time was pleasantly occupied, and, after\nmy fatigue, simple rest at tea over a book, or in conversation with my\nfellows, was incomparably more agreeable than theatres, cards, conceits,\nor a large company,--all which things are needed in physical idleness,\nand which cost a great deal.\n\nIn answer to the question, Would not this unaccustomed toil ruin that\nhealth which is indispensable in order to render service to the people\npossible? it appeared, in spite of the positive assertions of noted\nphysicians, that physical exertion, especially at my age, might have the\nmost injurious consequences (but that Swedish gymnastics, the massage\ntreatment, and so on, and other expedients intended to take the place of\nthe natural conditions of man's life, were better), that the more intense\nthe toil, the stronger, more alert, more cheerful, and more kindly did I\nfeel.  Thus it undoubtedly appeared, that, just as all those cunning\ndevices of the human mind, newspapers, theatres, concerts, visits, balls,\ncards, journals, romances, are nothing else than expedients for\nmaintaining the spiritual life of man outside his natural conditions of\nlabor for others,--just so all the hygienic and medical devices of the\nhuman mind for the preparation of food, drink, lodging, ventilation,\nheating, clothing, medicine, water, massage, gymnastics, electric, and\nother means of healing,--all these clever devices are merely an expedient\nto sustain the bodily life of man removed from its natural conditions of\nlabor.  It turned out that all these devices of the human mind for the\nagreeable arrangement of the physical existence of idle persons are\nprecisely analogous to those artful contrivances which people might\ninvent for the production in vessels hermetically sealed, by means of\nmechanical arrangements, of evaporation, and plants, of the air best\nfitted for breathing, when all that is needed is to open the window.  All\nthe inventions of medicine and hygiene for persons of our sphere are much\nthe same as though a mechanic should hit upon the idea of heating a steam-\nboiler which was not working, and should shut all the valves so that the\nboiler should not burst.  Only one thing is needed, instead of all these\nextremely complicated devices for pleasure, for comfort, and for medical\nand hygienic preparations, intended to save people from their spiritual\nand bodily ailments, which swallow up so much labor,--to fulfil the law\nof life; to do that which is proper not only to man, but to the animal;\nto fire off the charge of energy taken win in the shape of food, by\nmuscular exertion; to speak in plain language, to earn one's bread.  Those\nwho do not work should not eat, or they should earn as much as they have\neaten.\n\nAnd when I clearly comprehended all this, it struck me as ridiculous.\nThrough a whole series of doubts and searchings, I had arrived, by a long\ncourse of thought, at this remarkable truth: if a man has eyes, it is\nthat he may see with them; if he has ears, that he may hear; and feet,\nthat he may walk; and hands and back, that he may labor; and that if a\nman will not employ those members for that purpose for which they are\nintended, it will be the worse for him.\n\nI came to this conclusion, that, with us privileged people, the same\nthing has happened which happened with the horses of a friend of mine.\nHis steward, who was not a lover of horses, nor well versed in them, on\nreceiving his master's orders to place the best horses in the stable,\nselected them from the stud, placed them in stalls, and fed and watered\nthem; but fearing for the valuable steeds, he could not bring himself to\ntrust them to any one, and he neither rode nor drove them, nor did he\neven take them out.  The horses stood there until they were good for\nnothing.  The same thing has happened with us, but with this difference:\nthat it was impossible to deceive the horses in any way, and they were\nkept in bonds to prevent their getting out; but we are kept in an\nunnatural position that is equally injurious to us, by deceits which have\nentangled us, and which hold us like chains.\n\nWe have arranged for ourselves a life that is repugnant both to the moral\nand the physical nature of man, and all the powers of our intelligence we\nconcentrate upon assuring man that this is the most natural life\npossible.  Every thing which we call culture,--our sciences, art, and the\nperfection of the pleasant thing's of life,--all these are attempts to\ndeceive the moral requirements of man; every thing that is called hygiene\nand medicine, is an attempt to deceive the natural physical demands of\nhuman nature.  But these deceits have their bounds, and we advance to\nthem.  \"If such be the real human life, then it is better not to live at\nall,\" says the reigning and extremely fashionable philosophy of\nSchopenhauer and Hartmann.  If such is life, 'tis better for the coming\ngeneration not to live,\" say corrupt medical science and its newly\ndevised means to that end.\n\nIn the Bible, it is laid down as the law of man: \"In the sweat of thy\nface shalt thou eat bread, and in sorrow thou shalt bring forth\nchildren;\" but \"_nous avons change tout ca_,\" as Moliere's character\nsays, when expressing himself with regard to medicine, and asserting that\nthe liver was on the left side.  We have changed all that.  Men need not\nwork in order to eat, and women need not bear children.\n\nA ragged peasant roams the Krapivensky district.  During the war he was\nan agent for the purchase of grain, under an official of the commissary\ndepartment.  On being brought in contact with the official, and seeing\nhis luxurious life, the peasant lost his mind, and thought that he might\nget along without work, like gentlemen, and receive proper support from\nthe Emperor.  This peasant now calls himself \"the Most Serene Warrior,\nPrince Blokhin, purveyor of war supplies of all descriptions.\"  He says\nof himself that he has \"passed through all the ranks,\" and that when he\nshall have served out his term in the army, he is to receive from the\nEmperor an unlimited bank account, clothes, uniforms, horses, equipages,\ntea, pease and servants, and all sorts of luxuries.  This man is\nridiculous in the eyes of many, but to me the significance of his madness\nis terrible.  To the question, whether he does not wish to work, he\nalways replies proudly: \"I am much obliged.  The peasants will attend to\nall that.\"  When you tell him that the peasants do not wish to work,\neither, he answers: \"It is not difficult for the peasant.\"\n\nHe generally talks in a high-flown style, and is fond of verbal\nsubstantives.  \"Now there is an invention of machinery for the\nalleviation of the peasants,\" he says; \"there is no difficulty for them\nin that.\"  When he is asked what he lives for, he replies, \"To pass the\ntime.\"  I always look on this man as on a mirror.  I behold in him myself\nand all my class.  To pass through all the ranks (_tchini_) in order to\nlive for the purpose of passing the time, and to receive an unlimited\nbank account, while the peasants, for whom this is not difficult, because\nof the invention of machinery, do the whole business,--this is the\ncomplete formula of the idiotic creed of the people of our sphere in\nsociety.\n\nWhen we inquire precisely what we are to do, surely, we ask nothing, but\nmerely assert--only not in such good faith as the Most Serene Prince\nBlokhin, who has been promoted through all ranks, and lost his mind--that\nwe do not wish to do any thing.\n\nHe who will reflect for a moment cannot ask thus, because, on the one\nhand, every thing that he uses has been made, and is made, by the hands\nof men; and, on the other side, as soon as a healthy man has awakened and\neaten, the necessity of working with feet and hands and brain makes\nitself felt.  In order to find work and to work, he need only not hold\nback: only a person who thinks work disgraceful--like the lady who\nrequests her guest not to take the trouble to open the door, but to wait\nuntil she can call a man for this purpose--can put to himself the\nquestion, what he is to do.\n\nThe point does not lie in inventing work,--you can never get through all\nthe work that is to be done for yourself and for others,--but the point\nlies in weaning one's self from that criminal view of life in accordance\nwith which I eat and sleep for my own pleasure; and in appropriating to\nmyself that just and simple view with which the laboring man grows up and\nlives,--that man is, first of all, a machine, which loads itself with\nfood in order to sustain itself, and that it is therefore disgraceful,\nwrong, and impossible to eat and not to work; that to eat and not to work\nis the most impious, unnatural, and, therefore, dangerous position, in\nthe nature of the sin of Sodom.  Only let this acknowledgement be made,\nand there will be work; and work will always be joyous and satisfying to\nboth spiritual and bodily requirements.\n\nThe matter presented itself to me thus: The day is divided for every man,\nby food itself, into four parts, or four stints, as the peasants call it:\n(1) before breakfast; (2) from breakfast until dinner; (3) from dinner\nuntil four o'clock; (4) from four o'clock until evening.\n\nA man's employment, whatever it may be that he feels a need for in his\nown person, is also divided into four categories: (1) the muscular\nemployment of power, labor of the hands, feet, shoulders, back,--hard\nlabor, from which you sweat; (2) the employment of the fingers and\nwrists, the employment of artisan skill; (3) the employment of the mind\nand imagination; (4) the employment of intercourse with others.\n\nThe benefits which man enjoys are also divided into four categories.\nEvery man enjoys, in the first place, the product of hard labor,--grain,\ncattle, buildings, wells, ponds, and so forth; in the second place, the\nresults of artisan toil,--clothes, boots, utensils, and so forth; in the\nthird place, the products of mental activity,--science, art; and, in the\nforth place, established intercourse between people.\n\nAnd it struck me, that the best thing of all would be to arrange the\noccupations of the day in such a manner as to exercise all four of man's\ncapacities, and myself produce all these four sorts of benefits which men\nmake use of, so that one portion of the day, the first, should be\ndedicated to hard labor; the second, to intellectual labor; the third, to\nartisan labor; and the forth, to intercourse with people.  It struck me,\nthat only then would that false division of labor, which exists in our\nsociety, be abrogated, and that just division of labor established, which\ndoes not destroy man's happiness.\n\nI, for example, have busied myself all my life with intellectual labor.  I\nsaid to myself, that I had so divided labor, that writing, that is to\nsay, intellectual labor, is my special employment, and the other matters\nwhich were necessary to me I had left free (or relegated, rather) to\nothers.  But this, which would appear to have been the most advantageous\narrangement for intellectual toil, was precisely the most disadvantageous\nto mental labor, not to mention its injustice.\n\nAll my life long, I have regulated my whole life, food, sleep, diversion,\nin view of these hours of special labor, and I have done nothing except\nthis work.  The result of this has been, in the first place, that I have\ncontracted my sphere of observations and knowledge, and have frequently\nhad no means for the study even of problems which often presented\nthemselves in describing the life of the people (for the life of the\ncommon people is the every-day problem of intellectual activity).  I was\nconscious of my ignorance, and was obliged to obtain instruction, to ask\nabout things which are known by every man not engaged in special labor.\nIn the second place, the result was, that I had been in the habit of\nsitting down to write when I had no inward impulse to write, and when no\none demanded from me writing, as writing, that is to say, my thoughts,\nbut when my name was merely wanted for journalistic speculation.  I tried\nto squeeze out of myself what I could.  Sometimes I could extract\nnothing; sometimes it was very wretched stuff, and I was dissatisfied and\ngrieved.  But now that I have learned the indispensability of physical\nlabor, both hard and artisan labor, the result is entirely different.  My\ntime has been occupied, however modestly, at least usefully and\ncheerfully, and in a manner instructive to me.  And therefore I have torn\nmyself from that indubitably useful and cheerful occupation for my\nspecial duties only when I felt an inward impulse, and when I saw a\ndemand made upon me directly for my literary work.\n\nAnd these demands called into play only good nature, and therefore the\nusefulness and the joy of my special labor.  Thus it turned out, that\nemployment in those physical labors which are indispensable to me, as\nthey are to every man, not only did not interfere with my special\nactivity, but was an indispensable condition of the usefulness, worth,\nand cheerfulness of that activity.\n\nThe bird is so constructed, that it is indispensable that it should fly,\nwalk, peek, combine; and when it does all this, it is satisfied and\nhappy,--then it is a bird.  Just so man, when he walks, turns, raises,\ndrags, works with his fingers, with his eyes, with his ears, with his\ntongue, with his brain,--only then is he satisfied, only then is he a\nman.\n\nA man who acknowledges his appointment to labor will naturally strive\ntowards that rotation of labor which is peculiar to him, for the\nsatisfaction of his inward requirements; and he can alter this labor in\nno other way than when he feels within himself an irresistible summons to\nsome exclusive form of labor, and when the demands of other men for that\nlabor are expressed.\n\nThe character of labor is such, that the satisfaction of all a man's\nrequirements demands that same succession of the sorts of work which\nrenders work not a burden but a joy.  Only a false creed, [Greek text\nwhich cannot be reproduced], to the effect that labor is a curse, could\nhave led men to rid themselves of certain kinds of work; i.e., to the\nappropriation of the work of others, demanding the forced occupation with\nspecial labor of other people, which they call division of labor.\n\nWe have only grown used to our false comprehension of the regulation of\nlabor, because it seems to us that the shoemaker, the machinist, the\nwriter, or the musician will be better off if he gets rid of the labor\npeculiar to man.  Where there is no force exercised over the labor of\nothers, or any false belief in the joy of idleness, not a single man will\nget rid of physical labor, necessary for the satisfaction of his\nrequirements, for the sake of special work; because special work is not a\nprivilege, but a sacrifice which man offers to inward pressure and to his\nbrethren.\n\nThe shoemaker in the country, who abandons his wonted labor in the field,\nwhich is so grateful to him, and betakes himself to his trade, in order\nto repair or make boots for his neighbors, always deprives himself of the\npleasant toil of the field, simply because he likes to make boots,\nbecause he knows that no one else can do it so well as he, and that\npeople will be grateful to him for it; but the desire cannot occur to\nhim, to deprive himself, for the whole period of his life, of the\ncheering rotation of labor.\n\nIt is the same with the _starosta_ [village elder], the machinist, the\nwriter, the learned man.  To us, with our corrupt conception of things,\nit seems, that if a steward has been relegated to the position of a\npeasant by his master, or if a minister has been sent to the colonies, he\nhas been chastised, he has been ill-treated.  But in reality a benefit\nhas been conferred on him; that is to say, his special, hard labor has\nbeen changed into a cheerful rotation of labor.  In a naturally\nconstituted society, this is quite otherwise.  I know of one community\nwhere the people supported themselves.  One of the members of this\nsociety was better educated than the rest; and they called upon him to\nread, so that he was obliged to prepare himself during the day, in order\nthat he might read in the evening.  This he did gladly, feeling that he\nwas useful to others, and that he was performing a good deed.  But he\ngrew weary of exclusively intellectual work, and his health suffered from\nit.  The members of the community took pity on him, and requested him to\ngo to work in the fields.\n\nFor men who regard labor as the substance and the joy of life, the basis,\nthe foundation of life will always be the struggle with nature,--labor\nboth agricultural and mechanical, and intellectual, and the establishment\nof communion between men.  Departure from one or from many of these\nvarieties of labor, and the adoption of special labor, will then only\noccur when the man possessed of a special branch, and loving this work,\nand knowing that he can perform it better than others, sacrifices his own\nprofit for the satisfaction of the direct demands made upon him.  Only on\ncondition of such a view of labor, and of the natural division of labor\narising from it, is that curse which is laid upon our idea of labor\nabrogated, and does every sort of work becomes always a joy; because a\nman will either perform that labor which is undoubtedly useful and\njoyous, and not dull, or he will possess the consciousness of\nself-abnegation in the fulfilment of more difficult and restricted toil,\nwhich he exercises for the good of others.\n\nBut the division of labor is more profitable.  More profitable for whom?\nIt is more profitable in making the greatest possible quantity of calico,\nand boots in the shortest possible time.  But who will make these boots\nand this calico?  There are people who, for whole generations, make only\nthe heads of pins.  Then how can this be more profitable for men?  If the\npoint lies in manufacturing as much calico and as many pins as possible,\nthen this is so.  But the point concerns men and their welfare.  And the\nwelfare of men lies in life.  And life is work.  How, then, can the\nnecessity for burdensome, oppressive toil be more profitable for people?\nFor all men, that one thing is more profitable which I desire for\nmyself,--the utmost well-being, and the gratification of all those\nrequirements, both bodily and spiritual, of the conscience and of the\nreason, which are imposed upon me.  And in my own case I have found, that\nfor my own welfare, and for the satisfaction of these needs of mine, all\nthat I require is to cure myself of that folly in which I had been\nliving, in company with the Krapivensky madman, and which consisted in\npresupposing that some people need not work, and that certain other\npeople should direct all this, and that I should therefore do only that\nwhich is natural to man, i.e., labor for the satisfaction of their\nrequirements; and, having discovered this, I convinced myself that labor\nfor the satisfaction of one's own needs falls of itself into various\nkinds of labor, each one of which possesses its own charm, and which not\nonly do not constitute a burden, but which serve as a respite to one\nanother.  I have made a rough division of this labor (not insisting on\nthe justice of this arrangement), in accordance with my own needs in\nlife, into four parts, corresponding to the four stints of labor of which\nthe day is composed; and I seek in this manner to satisfy my\nrequirements.\n\nThese, then, are the answers which I have found for myself to the\nquestion, \"What is to be done?\"\n\n_First_, Not to lie to myself, however far removed my path in life may be\nfrom the true path which my reason discloses to me.\n\n_Second_, To renounce my consciousness of my own righteousness, my\nsuperiority especially over other people; and to acknowledge my guilt.\n\n_Third_, To comply with that eternal and indubitable law of humanity,--the\nlabor of my whole being, feeling no shame at any sort of work; to contend\nwith nature for the maintenance of my own life and the lives of others.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{169}  An omission by the censor, which I am unable to supply.  TRANS.\n\n{178}  We designate as organisms the elephant and the bacterian, only\nbecause we assume by analogy in those creatures the same conjunction of\nfeeling and consciousness that we know to exist in ourselves.  But in\nhuman societies and in humanity, this actual sign is absent; and\ntherefore, however many other signs we may discover in humanity and in\norganism, without this substantial token the recognition of humanity as\nan organism is incorrect.\n\n{238}  _v prikusku_, when a lump of sugar is held in the teeth instead or\nbeing put into the tea.","title":"On the Significance of Science and Art","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":23597}