{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8578/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8578","id":"gutenberg_8578","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8578","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Russian Literature","Christian fiction","Jesus Christ -- Fiction","Racism"],"text":"Produced by Jake Jaqua.  HTML version by Al Haines.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRAND INQUISITOR\n\n\nBy\n\nFeodor Dostoevsky\n\n(Translation by H.P. Blavatsky)\n\n\n[Dedicated by the Translator to those sceptics who clamour so\nloudly, both in print and private letters--\"Show us the\nwonder-working 'Brothers,' let them come out publicly--and we will\nbelieve in them!\"]\n\n\n[The following is an extract from M. Dostoevsky's celebrated\nnovel, The Brothers Karamazof, the last publication from the pen\nof the great Russian novelist, who died a few months ago, just as\nthe concluding chapters appeared in print. Dostoevsky is\nbeginning to be recognized as one of the ablest and profoundest\namong Russian writers. His characters are invariably typical\nportraits drawn from various classes of Russian society,\nstrikingly life-like and realistic to the highest degree. The\nfollowing extract is a cutting satire on modern theology\ngenerally and the Roman Catholic religion in particular. The idea\nis that Christ revisits earth, coming to Spain at the period of\nthe Inquisition, and is at once arrested as a heretic by the\nGrand Inquisitor. One of the three brothers of the story, Ivan, a\nrank materialist and an atheist of the new school, is supposed to\nthrow this conception into the form of a poem, which he describes\nto Alyosha--the youngest of the brothers, a young Christian\nmystic brought up by a \"saint\" in a monastery--as follows:\n(--Ed. Theosophist, Nov., 1881)]\n\n\n\n\n\n\"Quite impossible, as you see, to start without an introduction,\"\nlaughed Ivan. \"Well, then, I mean to place the event described in\nthe poem in the sixteenth century, an age--as you must have been\ntold at school--when it was the great fashion among poets to\nmake the denizens and powers of higher worlds descend on earth\nand mix freely with mortals... In France all the notaries'\nclerks, and the monks in the cloisters as well, used to give\ngrand performances, dramatic plays in which long scenes were\nenacted by the Madonna, the angels, the saints, Christ, and even\nby God Himself. In those days, everything was very artless and\nprimitive. An instance of it may be found in Victor Hugo's drama,\nNotre Dame de Paris, where, at the Municipal Hall, a play called\nLe Bon Jugement de la Tres-sainte et Gracieuse Vierge Marie, is\nenacted in honour of Louis XI, in which the Virgin appears\npersonally to pronounce her 'good judgment.' In Moscow, during\nthe prepetrean period, performances of nearly the same character,\nchosen especially from the Old Testament, were also in great\nfavour. Apart from such plays, the world was overflooded with\nmystical writings, 'verses'--the heroes of which were always\nselected from the ranks of angels, saints and other heavenly\ncitizens answering to the devotional purposes of the age. The\nrecluses of our monasteries, like the Roman Catholic monks,\npassed their time in translating, copying, and even producing\noriginal compositions upon such subjects, and that, remember,\nduring the Tarter period!... In this connection, I am reminded of\na poem compiled in a convent--a translation from the Greek, of\ncourse--called, 'The Travels of the Mother of God among the\nDamned,' with fitting illustrations and a boldness of conception\ninferior nowise to that of Dante. The 'Mother of God' visits\nhell, in company with the archangel Michael as her cicerone to\nguide her through the legions of the 'damned.' She sees them all,\nand is witness to their multifarious tortures. Among the many\nother exceedingly remarkably varieties of torments--every\ncategory of sinners having its own--there  is one especially\nworthy of notice, namely a class of the 'damned' sentenced to\ngradually sink in a burning lake of brimstone and fire. Those\nwhose sins cause them to sink so low that they no longer can rise\nto the surface are for ever forgotten by God, i.e., they fade out\nfrom the omniscient memory, says the poem--an expression, by the\nway, of an extraordinary profundity of thought, when closely\nanalysed. The Virgin is terribly shocked, and falling down upon\nher knees in tears before the throne of God, begs that all she\nhas seen in hell--all, all without exception, should have their\nsentences remitted to them. Her dialogue with God is colossally\ninteresting. She supplicates, she will not leave Him. And when\nGod, pointing to the pierced hands and feet of her Son, cries,\n'How can I forgive His executioners?' She then commands that all\nthe saints, martyrs, angels and archangels, should prostrate\nthemselves with her before the Immutable and Changeless One and\nimplore Him to change His wrath into mercy and--forgive them\nall. The poem closes upon her obtaining from God a compromise, a\nkind of yearly respite of tortures between Good Friday and\nTrinity, a chorus of the 'damned' singing loud praises to God\nfrom their 'bottomless pit,' thanking and telling Him:\n\n  Thou art right, O Lord, very right,\n  Thou hast condemned us justly.\n\n\"My poem is of the same character.\n\n\"In it, it is Christ who appears on the scene. True, He says\nnothing, but only appears and passes out of sight. Fifteen\ncenturies have elapsed since He left the world with the distinct\npromise to return 'with power and great glory'; fifteen long\ncenturies since His prophet cried, 'Prepare ye the way of the\nLord!' since He Himself had foretold, while yet on earth, 'Of\nthat day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven\nbut my Father only.' But Christendom expects Him still. ...\n\n\"It waits for Him with the same old faith and the same emotion;\naye, with a far greater faith, for fifteen centuries have rolled\naway since the last sign from heaven was sent to man,\n\n  And blind faith remained alone\n  To lull the trusting heart,\n  As heav'n would send a sign no more.\n\n\"True, again, we have all heard of miracles being wrought ever\nsince the 'age of miracles' passed away to return no more. We\nhad, and still have, our saints credited with performing the most\nmiraculous cures; and, if we can believe their biographers, there\nhave been those among them who have been personally visited by\nthe Queen of Heaven. But Satan sleepeth not, and the first germs\nof doubt, and ever-increasing unbelief in such wonders, already\nhad begun to sprout in Christendom as early as the sixteenth\ncentury. It was just at that time that a new and terrible heresy\nfirst made its appearance in the north of Germany.*   [*Luther's\nreform]  A great star 'shining as it were a lamp... fell upon the\nfountains waters'... and 'they were made bitter.' This 'heresy'\nblasphemously denied 'miracles.' But those who had remained\nfaithful believed all the more ardently, the tears of mankind\nascended to Him as heretofore, and the Christian world was\nexpecting Him as confidently as ever; they loved Him and hoped in\nHim, thirsted and hungered to suffer and die for Him just as many\nof them had done before.... So many centuries had weak, trusting\nhumanity implored Him, crying with ardent faith and fervour: 'How\nlong, O Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not come!' So many long\ncenturies hath it vainly appealed to Him, that at last, in His\ninexhaustible compassion, He consenteth to answer the prayer....\nHe decideth that once more, if it were but for one short hour,\nthe people--His long-suffering, tortured, fatally sinful, his\nloving and child-like, trusting people--shall behold Him again.\nThe scene of action is placed by me in Spain, at Seville, during\nthat terrible period of the Inquisition, when, for the greater\nglory of God, stakes were flaming all over the country.\n\n  Burning wicked heretics,\n  In grand auto-da-fes.\n\n\"This particular visit has, of course, nothing to do with the\npromised Advent, when, according to the programme, 'after the\ntribulation of those days,' He will appear 'coming in the clouds\nof heaven.' For, that 'coming of the Son of Man,' as we are\ninformed, will take place as suddenly 'as the lightning cometh\nout of the east and shineth even unto the west.' No; this once,\nHe desired to come unknown, and appear among His children, just\nwhen the bones of the heretics, sentenced to be burnt alive, had\ncommenced crackling at the flaming stakes. Owing to His limitless\nmercy, He mixes once more with mortals and in the same form in\nwhich He was wont to appear fifteen centuries ago. He descends,\njust at the very moment when before king, courtiers, knights,\ncardinals, and the fairest dames of court, before the whole\npopulation of Seville, upwards of a hundred wicked heretics are\nbeing roasted, in a magnificent auto-da-fe ad majorem Dei\ngloriam, by the order of the powerful Cardinal Grand Inquisitor.\n\n\"He comes silently and unannounced; yet all--how strange--yea,\nall recognize Him, at once! The population rushes towards Him as\nif propelled by some irresistible force; it surrounds, throngs,\nand presses around, it follows Him.... Silently, and with a smile\nof boundless compassion upon His lips, He crosses the dense\ncrowd, and moves softly on. The Sun of Love burns in His heart,\nand warm rays of Light, Wisdom and Power beam forth from His\neyes, and pour down their waves upon the swarming multitudes of\nthe rabble assembled around, making their hearts vibrate with\nreturning love. He extends His hands over their heads, blesses\nthem, and from mere contact with Him, aye, even with His\ngarments, a healing power goes forth. An old man, blind from his\nbirth, cries, 'Lord, heal me, that I may see Thee!' and the\nscales falling off the closed eyes, the blind man beholds Him...\nThe crowd weeps for joy, and kisses the ground upon which He\ntreads. Children strew flowers along His path and sing to Him,\n'Hosanna!' It is He, it is Himself, they say to each other, it\nmust be He, it can be none other but He! He pauses at the portal\nof the old cathedral, just as a wee white coffin is carried in,\nwith tears and great lamentations. The lid is off, and in the\ncoffin lies the body of a fair-child, seven years old, the only\nchild of an eminent citizen of the city. The little corpse lies\nburied in flowers. 'He will raise the child to life!' confidently\nshouts the crowd to the weeping mother. The officiating priest\nwho had come to meet the funeral procession, looks perplexed, and\nfrowns. A loud cry is suddenly heard, and the bereaved mother\nprostrates herself at His feet. 'If it be Thou, then bring back\nmy child to life!' she cries beseechingly. The procession halts,\nand the little coffin is gently lowered at his feet. Divine\ncompassion beams forth from His eyes, and as He looks at the\nchild, His lips are heard to whisper once more, 'Talitha\nCumi'--and 'straightway the damsel arose.' The child rises in her\ncoffin. Her little hands still hold the nosegay of white roses\nwhich after death was placed in them, and, looking round with\nlarge astonished eyes she smiles sweetly .... The crowd is\nviolently excited. A terrible commotion rages among them, the\npopulace shouts and loudly weeps, when suddenly, before the\ncathedral door, appears the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor himself....\nHe is tall, gaunt-looking old man of nearly four-score years and\nten, with a stern, withered face, and deeply sunken eyes, from\nthe cavity of which glitter two fiery sparks. He has laid aside\nhis gorgeous cardinal's robes in which he had appeared before the\npeople at the auto da-fe of the enemies of the Romish Church, and\nis now clad in his old, rough, monkish cassock. His sullen\nassistants and slaves of the 'holy guard' are following at a\ndistance. He pauses before the crowd and observes. He has seen\nall. He has witnessed the placing of the little coffin at His\nfeet, the calling back to life. And now, his dark, grim face has\ngrown still darker; his bushy grey eyebrows nearly meet, and his\nsunken eye flashes with sinister light. Slowly raising his\nfinger, he commands his minions to arrest Him....\n\n\"Such is his power over the well-disciplined, submissive and now\ntrembling people, that the thick crowds immediately give way, and\nscattering before the guard, amid dead silence and without one\nbreath of protest, allow them to lay their sacrilegious hands\nupon the stranger and lead Him away.... That same populace, like\none man, now bows its head to the ground before the old\nInquisitor, who blesses it and slowly moves onward. The guards\nconduct their prisoner to the ancient building of the Holy\nTribunal; pushing Him into a narrow, gloomy, vaulted prison-cell,\nthey lock Him in and retire....\n\n\"The day wanes, and night--a dark, hot breathless Spanish\nnight--creeps on and settles upon the city of Seville. The air smells\nof laurels and orange blossoms. In the Cimmerian darkness of the\nold Tribunal Hall the iron door of the cell is suddenly thrown\nopen, and the Grand Inquisitor, holding a dark lantern, slowly\nstalks into the dungeon. He is alone, and, as the heavy door\ncloses behind him, he pauses at the threshold, and, for a minute\nor two, silently and gloomily scrutinizes the Face before him. At\nlast approaching with measured steps, he sets his lantern down\nupon the table and addresses Him in these words:\n\n\"'It is Thou! ... Thou!' ... Receiving no reply, he rapidly\ncontinues: 'Nay, answer not; be silent! ... And what couldst Thou\nsay? ... I know but too well Thy answer.... Besides, Thou hast no\nright to add one syllable to that which was already uttered by\nThee before.... Why shouldst Thou now return, to impede us in our\nwork? For Thou hast come but for that only, and Thou knowest it\nwell. But art Thou as well aware of what awaits Thee in the\nmorning? I do not know, nor do I care to know who thou mayest be:\nbe it Thou or only thine image, to-morrow I will condemn and burn\nThee on the stake, as the most wicked of all the heretics; and\nthat same people, who to-day were kissing Thy feet, to-morrow at\none bend of my finger, will rush to add fuel to Thy funeral\npile... Wert Thou aware of this?' he adds, speaking as if in\nsolemn thought, and never for one instant taking his piercing\nglance off the meek Face before him.\"....\n\n\"I can hardly realize the situation described--what is all\nthis, Ivan?\" suddenly interrupted Alyosha, who had remained\nsilently listening to his brother. \"Is this an extravagant fancy,\nor some mistake of the old man, an impossible quid pro quo?\"\n\n\"Let it be the latter, if you like,\" laughed Ivan, \"since modern\nrealism has so perverted your taste that you feel unable to\nrealize anything from the world of fancy.... Let it be a quid pro\nquo, if you so choose it. Again, the Inquisitor is ninety years\nold, and he might have easily gone mad with his one idee fixe of\npower; or, it might have as well been a delirious vision, called\nforth by dying fancy, overheated by the auto-da-fe of the hundred\nheretics in that forenoon.... But what matters for the poem,\nwhether it was a quid pro quo or an uncontrollable fancy? The\nquestion is, that the old man has to open his heart; that he must\ngive out his thought at last; and that the hour has come when he\ndoes speak it out, and says loudly that which for ninety years he\nhas kept secret within his own breast.\"\n\n\"And his prisoner, does He never reply? Does He keep silent,\nlooking at him, without saying a word?\"\n\n\"Of course; and it could not well be otherwise,\" again retorted\nIvan. \"The Grand Inquisitor begins from his very first words by\ntelling Him that He has no right to add one syllable to that which\nHe had said before. To make the situation clear at once, the above\npreliminary monologue is intended to convey to the reader the very\nfundamental idea which underlies Roman Catholicism--as well as I\ncan convey it, his words mean, in short: 'Everything was given\nover by Thee to the Pope, and everything now rests with him alone;\nThou hast no business to return and thus hinder us in our work.'\nIn this sense the Jesuits not only talk but write likewise.\n\n\"'Hast thou the right to divulge to us a single one of the\nmysteries of that world whence Thou comest?' enquires of Him my\nold Inquisitor, and forthwith answers for Him. 'Nay, Thou has no\nsuch right. For, that would be adding to that which was already\nsaid by Thee before; hence depriving people of that freedom for\nwhich Thou hast so stoutly stood up while yet on earth....\nAnything new that Thou would now proclaim would have to be\nregarded as an attempt to interfere with that freedom of choice,\nas it would come as a new and a miraculous revelation superseding\nthe old revelation of fifteen hundred years ago, when Thou didst\nso repeatedly tell the people: \"The truth shall make you free.\"\nBehold then, Thy \"free\" people now!' adds the old man with sombre\nirony. 'Yea!... it has cost us dearly.' he continues, sternly\nlooking at his victim. 'But we have at last accomplished our\ntask, and--in Thy name.... For fifteen long centuries we had to\ntoil and suffer owing to that \"freedom\": but now we have\nprevailed and our work is done, and well and strongly it is done.\n....Believest not Thou it is so very strong? ... And why should\nThou look at me so meekly as if I were not worthy even of Thy\nindignation?... Know then, that now, and only now, Thy people\nfeel fully sure and satisfied of their freedom; and that only\nsince they have themselves and of their own free will delivered\nthat freedom unto our hands by placing it submissively at our\nfeet. But then, that is what we have done. Is it that which Thou\nhas striven for? Is this the kind of \"freedom\" Thou has promised\nthem?'\"\n\n\"Now again, I do not understand,\" interrupted Alyosha. \"Does the\nold man mock and laugh?\"\n\n\"Not in the least. He seriously regards it as a great service\ndone by himself, his brother monks and Jesuits, to humanity, to\nhave conquered and subjected unto their authority that freedom,\nand boasts that it was done but for the good of the world. 'For\nonly now,' he says (speaking of the Inquisition) 'has it become\npossible to us, for the first time, to give a serious thought to\nhuman happiness. Man is born a rebel, and can rebels be ever\nhappy?... Thou has been fairly warned of it, but evidently to no\nuse, since Thou hast rejected the only means which could make\nmankind happy; fortunately at Thy departure Thou hast delivered\nthe task to us.... Thou has promised, ratifying the pledge by Thy\nown words, in words giving us the right to bind and unbind... and\nsurely, Thou couldst not think of depriving us of it now!'\"\n\n\"But what can he mean by the words, 'Thou has been fairly\nwarned'?\" asked Alexis.\n\n\"These words give the key to what the old man has to say for his\njustification... But listen--\n\n\"'The terrible and wise spirit, the spirit of self annihilation\nand non-being,' goes on the Inquisitor, 'the great spirit of\nnegation conversed with Thee in the wilderness, and we are told\nthat he \"tempted\" Thee... Was it so? And if it were so, then it is\nimpossible to utter anything more truthful than what is contained\nin his three offers, which Thou didst reject, and which are\nusually called \"temptations.\" Yea; if ever there was on earth a\ngenuine striking wonder produced, it was on that day of Thy three\ntemptations, and it is precisely in these three short sentences\nthat the marvelous miracle is contained. If it were possible that\nthey should vanish and disappear for ever, without leaving any\ntrace, from the record and from the memory of man, and that it\nshould become necessary again to devise, invent, and make them\nreappear in Thy history once more, thinkest Thou that all the\nworld's sages, all the legislators, initiates, philosophers and\nthinkers, if called upon to frame three questions which should,\nlike these, besides answering the magnitude of the event, express\nin three short sentences the whole future history of  this our\nworld and of mankind--dost Thou believe, I ask Thee, that all\ntheir combined efforts could ever create anything equal in power\nand depth of thought to the three propositions offered Thee by the\npowerful and all-wise spirit in the wilderness? Judging of them by\ntheir marvelous aptness alone, one can at once perceive that they\nemanated not from a finite, terrestrial intellect, but indeed,\nfrom the Eternal and the Absolute. In these three offers we find,\nblended into one and foretold to us, the complete subsequent\nhistory of man; we are shown three images, so to say, uniting in\nthem all the future axiomatic, insoluble problems and\ncontradictions of human nature, the world over. In those days, the\nwondrous wisdom contained in them was not made so apparent as it\nis now, for futurity remained still veiled; but now, when fifteen\ncenturies have elapsed, we see that everything in these three\nquestions is so marvelously foreseen and foretold, that to add to,\nor to take away from, the prophecy one jot, would be absolutely\nimpossible!\n\n\"'Decide then thyself.' sternly proceeded the Inquisitor, 'which\nof ye twain was right: Thou who didst reject, or he who offered?\nRemember the subtle meaning of question the first, which runs\nthus: Wouldst Thou go into the world empty-handed? Would Thou\nventure thither with Thy vague and undefined promise of freedom,\nwhich men, dull and unruly as they are by nature, are unable so\nmuch as to understand, which they avoid and fear?--for never was\nthere anything more unbearable to the human race than personal\nfreedom! Dost Thou see these stones in the desolate and glaring\nwilderness? Command that these stones be made bread--and mankind\nwill run after Thee, obedient and grateful like a herd of cattle.\nBut even then it will be ever diffident and trembling, lest Thou\nshould take away Thy hand, and they lose thereby their bread!\nThou didst refuse to accept the offer for fear of depriving men\nof their free choice; for where is there freedom of choice where\nmen are bribed with bread? Man shall not live by bread\nalone--was Thine answer. Thou knewest not, it seems, that it was\nprecisely in the name of that earthly bread that the terrestrial\nspirit would one day rise against, struggle with, and finally\nconquer Thee, followed by the hungry multitudes shouting: \"Who is\nlike unto that Beast, who maketh fire come down from heaven upon\nthe earth!\" Knowest Thou not that, but a few centuries hence, and\nthe whole of mankind will have proclaimed in its wisdom and\nthrough its mouthpiece, Science, that there is no more crime,\nhence no more sin on earth, but only hungry people? \"Feed us\nfirst and then command us to be virtuous!\" will be the words\nwritten upon the banner lifted against Thee--a banner which\nshall destroy Thy Church to its very foundations,  and in the\nplace of Thy Temple shall raise once more the terrible Tower of\nBabel; and though its building be left unfinished, as was that of\nthe first one, yet the fact will remain recorded that Thou\ncouldst, but wouldst not, prevent the attempt to build that new\ntower by accepting the offer, and thus saving mankind a\nmillennium of useless suffering on earth. And it is to us that\nthe people will return again. They will search for us catacombs,\nas we shall once more be persecuted and martyred--and they will\nbegin crying unto us: \"Feed us, for they who promised us the fire\nfrom heaven have deceived us!\" It is then that we will finish\nbuilding their tower for them. For they alone who feed them shall\nfinish it, and we shall feed them in Thy name, and lying to them\nthat it is in that name. Oh, never, never, will they learn to\nfeed themselves without our help! No science will ever give them\nbread so long as they remain free, so long as they refuse to lay\nthat freedom at our feet, and say: \"Enslave, but feed us!\" That\nday must come when men will understand that freedom and daily\nbread enough to satisfy all are unthinkable and can never be had\ntogether, as men will never be able to fairly divide the two\namong themselves. And they will also learn that they can never be\nfree, for they are weak, vicious, miserable nonentities born\nwicked and rebellious. Thou has promised to them the bread of\nlife, the bread of  heaven; but I ask Thee again, can that bread\never equal in the sight of the weak and the vicious, the ever\nungrateful human race, their daily bread on earth? And even\nsupposing that thousands and tens of thousands follow Thee in the\nname of, and for the sake of, Thy heavenly bread, what will\nbecome of the millions and hundreds of millions of human beings\nto weak to scorn the earthly for the sake of Thy heavenly bread?\nOr is it but those tens of thousands chosen among the great and\nthe mighty, that are so dear to Thee, while the remaining\nmillions, innumerable as the grains of sand in the seas, the weak\nand the loving, have to be used as material for the former? No,\nno! In our sight and for our purpose the weak and the lowly are\nthe more dear to us. True, they are vicious and rebellious, but\nwe will force them into obedience, and it is they who will admire\nus the most. They will regard us as gods, and feel grateful to\nthose who have consented to lead the masses and bear their burden\nof freedom by ruling over them--so terrible will that freedom at\nlast appear to men! Then we will tell them that it is in\nobedience to Thy will and in Thy name that we rule over them. We\nwill deceive them once more and lie to them once again--for\nnever, never more will we allow Thee to come among us. In this\ndeception we will find our suffering, for we must needs lie\neternally, and never cease to lie!\n\n\"Such is the secret meaning of \"temptation\" the first, and that\nis what Thou didst reject in the wilderness for the sake of that\nfreedom which Thou didst prize above all. Meanwhile Thy tempter's\noffer contained another great world-mystery. By accepting the\n\"bread,\" Thou wouldst have satisfied and answered a universal\ncraving, a ceaseless longing alive in the heart of every\nindividual human being, lurking in the breast of collective\nmankind, that most perplexing problem--\"whom or what shall we\nworship?\" There exists no greater or more painful anxiety for a\nman who has freed himself from all religious bias, than how he\nshall soonest find a new object or idea to worship. But man seeks\nto bow before that only which is recognized by the greater\nmajority, if not by all his fellow-men, as having a right to be\nworshipped; whose rights are so unquestionable that men agree\nunanimously to bow down to it. For the chief concern of these\nmiserable creatures is not to find and worship the idol of their\nown choice, but to discover that which all others will believe\nin, and consent to bow down to in a mass. It is that instinctive\nneed of having a worship in common that is the chief suffering of\nevery man, the chief concern of mankind from the beginning of\ntimes. It is for that universality of religious worship that\npeople destroyed each other by sword. Creating gods unto\nthemselves, they forwith began appealing to each other: \"Abandon\nyour deities, come and bow down to ours, or death to ye and your\nidols!\" And so will they do till the end of this world; they will\ndo so even then, when all the gods themselves have disappeared,\nfor then men will prostrate themselves before and worship some\nidea. Thou didst know, Thou couldst not be ignorant of, that\nmysterious fundamental principle in human nature, and still thou\nhast rejected the only absolute banner offered Thee, to which all\nthe nations would remain true, and before which all would have\nbowed--the banner of earthly bread, rejected in the name of\nfreedom and of \"bread in the kingdom of God\"! Behold, then, what\nThou hast done furthermore for that \"freedom's\" sake! I repeat to\nThee, man has no greater anxiety in life than to find some one to\nwhom he can make over that gift of freedom with which the\nunfortunate creature is born. But he alone will prove capable of\nsilencing and quieting their consciences, that shall succeed in\npossessing himself of the freedom of men. With \"daily bread\" an\nirresistible power was offered Thee: show a man \"bread\" and he\nwill follow Thee, for what can he resist less than the attraction\nof bread? But if, at the same time, another succeed in possessing\nhimself of his conscience--oh! then even Thy bread will be\nforgotten, and man will follow him who seduced his conscience. So\nfar Thou wert right. For the mystery of human being does not\nsolely rest in the desire to live, but in the problem--for what\nshould one live at all? Without a clear perception of his reasons\nfor living, man will never consent to live, and will rather\ndestroy himself than tarry on earth, though he be surrounded with\nbread. This is the truth. But what has happened? Instead of\ngetting hold of man's freedom, Thou has enlarged it still more!\nHast Thou again forgotten that to man rest and even death are\npreferable to a free choice between the knowledge of Good and\nEvil? Nothing seems more seductive in his eyes than freedom of\nconscience, and nothing proves more painful. And behold! instead\nof laying a firm foundation whereon to rest once for all man's\nconscience, Thou hast chosen to stir up in him all that is\nabnormal, mysterious, and indefinite, all that is beyond human\nstrength, and has acted as if Thou never hadst any love for him,\nand yet Thou wert He who came to \"lay down His life for His\nfriends!\" Thou hast burdened man's soul with anxieties hitherto\nunknown to him. Thirsting for human love freely given, seeking to\nenable man, seduced and charmed by Thee, to follow Thy path of\nhis own free-will, instead of the old and wise law which held him\nin subjection, Thou hast given him the right henceforth to choose\nand freely decide what is good and bad for him, guided but by\nThine image in his heart. But hast Thou never dreamt of the\nprobability, nay, of the certainty, of that same man one day\nrejected finally, and controverting even Thine image and Thy\ntruth, once he would find himself laden with such a terrible\nburden as freedom of choice? That a time would surely come when\nmen would exclaim that Truth and Light cannot be in Thee, for no\none could have left them in a greater perplexity and mental\nsuffering than Thou has done, lading them with so many cares and\ninsoluble problems. Thus, it is Thyself who hast laid the\nfoundation for the destruction of Thine own kingdom and no one\nbut Thou is to be blamed for it.\n\n\"'Meantime, every chance of success was offered Thee. There are\nthree Powers, three unique Forces upon earth, capable of\nconquering for ever by charming the conscience of these weak\nrebels--men--for their own good; and these Forces are: Miracle,\nMystery and Authority. Thou hast rejected all the three, and thus\nwert the first to set them an example. When the terrible and\nall-wise spirit placed Thee on a pinnacle of the temple and said unto\nThee, \"If Thou be the son of God, cast Thyself down, for it is\nwritten, He shall give His angels charge concerning Thee: and in\ntheir hands they shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou dash\nThy foot against a stone!\"--for thus Thy faith in Thy father\nshould have been made evident, Thou didst refuse to accept his\nsuggestion and didst not follow it. Oh, undoubtedly, Thou didst\nact in this with all the magnificent pride of a god, but then\nmen--that weak and rebel race--are they also gods, to understand\nThy refusal? Of course, Thou didst well know that by taking one\nsingle step forward, by making the slightest motion to throw\nThyself down, Thou wouldst have tempted \"the Lord Thy God,\" lost\nsuddenly all faith in Him, and dashed Thyself to atoms against\nthat same earth which Thou camest to save, and thus wouldst have\nallowed the wise spirit which tempted Thee to triumph and\nrejoice. But, then, how many such as Thee are to be found on this\nglobe, I ask Thee? Couldst Thou ever for a moment imagine that\nmen would have the same strength to resist such a temptation? Is\nhuman nature calculated to reject miracle, and trust, during the\nmost terrible moments in life, when the most momentous, painful\nand perplexing problems struggle within man's soul, to the free\ndecisions of his heart for the true solution? Oh, Thou knewest\nwell that that action of Thine would remain recorded in books for\nages to come, reaching to the confines of the globe, and Thy hope\nwas, that following Thy example, man would remain true to his\nGod, without needing any miracle to keep his faith alive! But\nThou knewest not, it seems, that no sooner would man reject\nmiracle than he would reject God likewise, for he seeketh less\nGod than \"a sign\" from Him. And thus, as it is beyond the power\nof man to remain without miracles, so, rather than live without,\nhe will create for himself new wonders of his own making; and he\nwill bow to and worship the soothsayer's miracles, the old\nwitch's sorcery, were he a rebel, a heretic, and an atheist a\nhundred times over. Thy refusal to come down from the cross when\npeople, mocking and wagging their heads were saying to Thee--\"Save\nThyself if Thou be the son of God, and we will believe in\nThee,\" was due to the same determination--not to enslave man\nthrough miracle, but to obtain faith in Thee freely and apart\nfrom any miraculous influence. Thou thirstest for free and\nuninfluenced love, and refuses the passionate adoration of the\nslave before a Potency which would have subjected his will once\nfor ever. Thou judgest of men too highly here, again, for though\nrebels they be, they are born slaves and nothing more. Behold,\nand judge of them once more, now that fifteen centuries have\nelapsed since that moment. Look at them, whom Thou didst try to\nelevate unto Thee! I swear man is weaker and lower than Thou hast\never imagined him to be! Can he ever do that which Thou art said\nto have accomplished? By valuing him so highly Thou hast acted as\nif there were no love for him in Thine heart, for Thou hast\ndemanded of him more than he could ever give--Thou, who lovest\nhim more than Thyself! Hadst Thou esteemed him less, less wouldst\nThou have demanded of him, and that would have been more like\nlove, for his burden would have been made thereby lighter. Man is\nweak and cowardly. What matters it, if he now riots and rebels\nthroughout the world against our will and power, and prides\nhimself upon that rebellion? It is but the petty pride and vanity\nof a school-boy. It is the rioting of little children, getting up\na mutiny in the class-room and driving their schoolmaster out of\nit. But it will not last long, and when the day of their triumph\nis over, they will have to pay dearly for it. They will destroy\nthe temples and raze them to the ground, flooding the earth with\nblood. But the foolish children will have to learn some day that,\nrebels though they be and riotous from nature, they are too weak\nto maintain the spirit of mutiny for any length of time. Suffused\nwith idiotic tears, they will confess that He who created them\nrebellious undoubtedly did so but to mock them. They will\npronounce these words in despair, and such blasphemous utterances\nwill but add to their misery--for human nature cannot endure\nblasphemy, and takes her own revenge in the end.\n\n\"'And thus, after all Thou has suffered for mankind and its\nfreedom, the present fate of men may be summed up in three words:\nUnrest, Confusion, Misery! Thy great prophet John records in his\nvision, that he saw, during the first resurrection of the chosen\nservants of God--\"the number of them which were sealed\" in their\nforeheads, \"twelve thousand\" of every tribe. But were they,\nindeed, as many? Then they must have been gods, not men. They had\nshared Thy Cross for long years, suffered scores of years' hunger\nand thirst in dreary wildernesses and deserts, feeding upon\nlocusts and roots--and of these children of free love for Thee,\nand self-sacrifice in Thy name, Thou mayest well feel proud. But\nremember that these are but a few thousands--of gods, not men;\nand how about all others? And why should the weakest be held\nguilty for not being able to endure what the strongest have\nendured? Why should a soul incapable of containing such terrible\ngifts be punished for its weakness? Didst Thou really come to,\nand for, the \"elect\" alone? If so, then the mystery will remain\nfor ever mysterious to our finite minds. And if a mystery, then\nwere we right to proclaim it as one, and preach it, teaching them\nthat neither their freely given love to Thee nor freedom of\nconscience were essential, but only that incomprehensible mystery\nwhich they must blindly obey even against the dictates of their\nconscience. Thus did we. We corrected and improved Thy teaching\nand based it upon \"Miracle, Mystery, and Authority.\" And men\nrejoiced at finding themselves led once more like a herd of\ncattle, and at  finding their hearts  at last delivered of the\nterrible burden laid upon them by Thee, which caused them so much\nsuffering. Tell me, were we right in doing as we did. Did not we\nshow our great love for humanity, by realizing in such a humble\nspirit its helplessness, by so mercifully lightening its great\nburden, and by permitting and remitting for its weak nature every\nsin, provided it be committed with our authorization? For what,\nthen, hast Thou come again to trouble us in our work? And why\nlookest Thou at me so penetratingly with Thy meek eyes, and in\nsuch a silence? Rather shouldst Thou feel wroth, for I need not\nThy love, I reject it, and love Thee not, myself. Why should I\nconceal the truth from Thee? I know but too well with whom I am\nnow talking! What I had to say was known to Thee before, I read\nit in Thine eye. How should I conceal from Thee our secret? If\nperchance Thou wouldst hear it from my own lips, then listen: We\nare not with Thee, but with him, and that is our secret! For\ncenturies have we abandoned Thee to follow him, yes--eight\ncenturies. Eight hundred years now since we accepted from him the\ngift rejected by Thee with indignation; that last gift which he\noffered Thee from the high mountain when, showing all the\nkingdoms of the world and the glory of them, he saith unto Thee:\n\"All these things will I give Thee, if Thou will fall down and\nworship me!\" We took Rome from him and the glaive of Caesar, and\ndeclared ourselves alone the kings of this earth, its sole kings,\nthough our work is not yet fully accomplished. But who is to\nblame for it? Our work is but in its incipient stage, but it is\nnevertheless started. We may have long to wait until its\nculmination, and mankind have to suffer much, but we shall reach\nthe goal some day, and become sole Caesars, and then will be the\ntime to think of universal happiness for men.\n\n\"'Thou couldst accept the glaive of Caesar Thyself; why didst\nThou reject the offer? By accepting from the powerful spirit his\nthird offer Thou would have realized every aspiration man seeketh\nfor himself on earth; man would have found a constant object for\nworship; one to deliver his conscience up to, and one that should\nunite all together into one common and harmonious ant-hill; for\nan innate necessity for universal union constitutes the third and\nfinal affliction of mankind. Humanity as a whole has ever aspired\nto unite itself universally. Many were, the great nations with\ngreat histories, but the greater they were, the more unhappy they\nfelt, as they felt the stronger necessity of a universal union\namong men. Great conquerors, like Timoor and Tchengis-Khan,\npassed like a cyclone upon the face of the earth in their efforts\nto conquer the universe, but even they, albeit unconsciously,\nexpressed the same aspiration towards universal and common union.\nIn accepting the kingdom of the world and Caesar's purple, one\nwould found a universal kingdom and secure to mankind eternal\npeace. And who can rule mankind better than those who have\npossessed themselves of man's conscience, and hold in their hand\nman's daily bread? Having accepted Caesar's glaive and purple, we\nhad, of course, but to deny Thee, to henceforth follow him alone.\nOh, centuries of intellectual riot and rebellious free thought\nare yet before us, and their science will end by anthropophagy,\nfor having begun to build their Babylonian tower without our help\nthey will have to end by anthropophagy. But it is precisely at\nthat time that the Beast will crawl up to us in full submission,\nand lick the soles of our feet, and sprinkle them with tears of\nblood and we shall sit upon the scarlet-colored Beast, and\nlifting up high the golden cup \"full of abomination and\nfilthiness,\" shall show written upon it the word \"Mystery\"! But\nit is only then that men will see the beginning of a kingdom of\npeace and happiness. Thou art proud of Thine own elect, but Thou\nhas none other but these elect, and we--we will give rest to\nall. But that is not the end. Many are those among thine elect\nand the laborers of Thy vineyard, who, tired of waiting for Thy\ncoming, already have carried and will yet carry, the great fervor\nof their hearts and their spiritual strength into another field,\nand will end by lifting up against Thee Thine own banner of\nfreedom. But it is Thyself Thou hast to thank. Under our rule and\nsway all will be happy, and will neither rebel nor destroy each\nother as they did while under Thy free banner. Oh, we will take\ngood care to prove to them that they will become absolutely free\nonly when they have abjured their freedom in our favor and submit\nto us absolutely. Thinkest Thou we shall be right or still lying?\nThey will convince themselves of our rightness, for they will see\nwhat a depth of degrading slavery and strife that liberty of\nThine has led them into. Liberty, Freedom of Thought and\nConscience, and Science will lead them into such impassable\nchasms, place them face to face before such wonders and insoluble\nmysteries, that some of them--more rebellious and ferocious than\nthe rest--will destroy themselves; others--rebellious but\nweak--will destroy each other; while the remainder, weak, helpless\nand miserable, will crawl back to our feet and cry: \"'Yes; right\nwere ye, oh Fathers of Jesus; ye alone are in possession of His\nmystery, and we return to you, praying that ye save us from\nourselves!\" Receiving their bread from us, they will clearly see\nthat we take the bread from them, the bread made by their own\nhands, but to give it back to them in equal shares and that\nwithout any miracle; and having ascertained that, though we have\nnot changed stones  into bread, yet bread they have, while every\nother bread turned verily in their own hands into stones, they\nwill be only to glad to have it so. Until that day, they will\nnever be happy. And who is it that helped the most to blind them,\ntell me? Who separated the flock and scattered it over ways\nunknown if it be not Thee? But we will gather the sheep once more\nand subject them to our will for ever. We will prove to them\ntheir own weakness and make them humble again, whilst with Thee\nthey have learnt but pride, for Thou hast made more of them than\nthey ever were worth. We will give them that quiet, humble\nhappiness, which alone benefits such weak, foolish creatures as\nthey are, and having once had proved to them their weakness, they\nwill become timid and obedient, and gather around us as chickens\naround their hen. They will wonder at and feel a superstitious\nadmiration for us, and feel proud to be led by men so powerful\nand wise that a handful of them can subject a flock a thousand\nmillions strong. Gradually men will begin to fear us. They will\nnervously dread our slightest anger, their intellects will\nweaken, their eyes become as easily accessible to tears as those\nof children and women; but we will teach them an easy transition\nfrom grief and tears to laughter, childish joy and mirthful song.\nYes; we will make them work like slaves, but during their\nrecreation hours they shall have an innocent child-like life,\nfull of play and merry laughter. We will even permit them sin,\nfor, weak and helpless, they will feel the more love for us for\npermitting them to indulge in it. We will tell them that every\nkind of sin will be remitted to them, so long as it is done with\nour permission; that we take all these sins upon ourselves, for\nwe so love the world, that we are even willing to sacrifice our\nsouls for its satisfaction. And, appearing before them in the\nlight of their scapegoats and redeemers, we shall be adored the\nmore for it. They will have no secrets from us. It will rest with\nus to permit them to live with their wives and concubines, or to\nforbid them, to have children or remain childless, either way\ndepending on the degree of their obedience to us; and they will\nsubmit most joyfully to us the most agonizing secrets of their\nsouls--all, all will they lay down at our feet, and we will\nauthorize and remit them all in Thy name, and they will believe\nus and accept our mediation with rapture, as it will deliver them\nfrom their greatest anxiety and torture--that of having to\ndecide freely for themselves. And all will be happy, all except\nthe one or two hundred thousands of their rulers. For it is but\nwe, we the keepers of the great Mystery who will be miserable.\nThere will be thousands of millions of happy infants, and one\nhundred thousand martyrs who have taken upon themselves the curse\nof knowledge of good and evil. Peaceable will be their end, and\npeacefully will they die, in Thy name, to find behind the portals\nof the grave--but death. But we will keep the secret inviolate,\nand deceive them for their own good with the mirage of life\neternal in Thy kingdom. For, were there really anything like life\nbeyond the grave, surely it would never fall to the lot of such\nas they! People tell us and prophesy of Thy coming and triumphing\nonce more on earth; of Thy appearing with the army of Thy elect,\nwith Thy proud and mighty ones; but we will answer Thee that they\nhave saved but themselves while we have saved all. We are also\nthreatened with the great disgrace which awaits the whore,\n\"Babylon the great, the mother of harlots\"--who sits upon the\nBeast, holding in her hands the Mystery, the word written upon\nher forehead; and we are told that the weak ones, the lambs shall\nrebel against her and shall make her desolate and naked. But then\nwill I arise, and point out to Thee the thousands of millions of\nhappy infants free from any sin. And we who have taken their sins\nupon us, for their own good, shall stand before Thee and say:\n\"Judge us if Thou canst and darest!\" Know then that I fear Thee\nnot. Know that I too have lived in the dreary wilderness, where I\nfed upon locusts and roots, that I too have blessed freedom with\nwhich thou hast blessed men, and that I too have once prepared to\njoin the ranks of Thy elect, the proud and the mighty. But I\nawoke from my delusion and refused since then to serve insanity.\nI returned to join the legion of those who corrected Thy\nmistakes. I left the proud and returned to the really humble, and\nfor their own happiness. What I now tell thee will come to pass,\nand our kingdom shall be built, I tell Thee not later than\nto-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock which at one simple\nmotion of my hand will rush to add burning coals to Thy stake, on\nwhich I will burn Thee for having dared to come and trouble us in\nour work. For, if there ever was one who deserved more than any\nof the others our inquisitorial fires--it is Thee! To-morrow I\nwill burn Thee. Dixi'.\"\n\nIvan paused. He had entered into the situation and had spoken\nwith great animation, but now he suddenly burst out laughing.\n\n\"But all that is absurd!\" suddenly exclaimed Alyosha, who had\nhitherto listened perplexed and agitated but in profound silence.\n\"Your poem is a glorification of Christ, not an accusation, as\nyou, perhaps, meant to be. And who will believe you when you\nspeak of 'freedom'? Is it thus that we Christians must understand\nit? It is Rome (not all Rome, for that would be unjust), but the\nworst of the Roman Catholics, the Inquisitors and Jesuits, that\nyou have been exposing! Your Inquisitor is an impossible\ncharacter. What are these sins they are taking upon themselves?\nWho are those keepers of mystery who took upon themselves a curse\nfor the good of mankind? Who ever met them? We all know the\nJesuits, and no one has a good word to say in their favor; but\nwhen were they as you depict them? Never, never! The Jesuits are\nmerely a Romish army making ready for their future temporal\nkingdom, with a mitred emperor--a Roman high priest at their\nhead. That is their ideal and object, without any mystery or\nelevated suffering. The most prosaic thirsting for power, for the\nsake of the mean and earthly pleasures of life, a desire to\nenslave their fellow-men, something like our late system of\nserfs, with themselves at the head as landed proprietors--that\nis all that they can be accused of. They may not believe in God,\nthat is also possible, but your suffering Inquisitor is simply--a\nfancy!\"\n\n\"Hold, hold!\" interrupted Ivan, smiling. \"Do not be so excited. A\nfancy, you say; be it so! Of course, it is a fancy. But stop. Do\nyou really imagine that all this Catholic movement during the\nlast centuries is naught but a desire for power for the mere\npurpose of 'mean pleasures'? Is this what your Father Paissiy\ntaught you?\"\n\n\"No, no, quite the reverse, for Father Paissiy once told me\nsomething very similar to what you yourself  say, though, of\ncourse, not that--something quite different,\" suddenly added\nAlexis, blushing.\n\n\"A precious piece of information, notwithstanding your 'not\nthat.' I ask you, why should the Inquisitors and the Jesuits of\nyour imagination live but for the attainment of 'mean material\npleasures?' Why should there not be found among them one single\ngenuine martyr suffering under a great and holy idea and loving\nhumanity with all his heart? Now let us suppose that among all\nthese Jesuits thirsting and hungering but after 'mean material\npleasures' there may be one, just one like my old Inquisitor, who\nhad himself fed upon roots in the wilderness, suffered the\ntortures of damnation while trying to conquer flesh, in order to\nbecome free and perfect, but who had never ceased to love\nhumanity, and who one day prophetically beheld the truth; who saw\nas plain as he could see that the bulk of humanity could never be\nhappy under the old system, that it was not for them that the\ngreat Idealist had come and died and dreamt of His Universal\nHarmony. Having realized that truth, he returned into the world\nand joined--intelligent and practical people. Is this so\nimpossible?\"\n\n\"Joined whom? What intelligent and practical people?\" exclaimed\nAlyosha quite excited. \"Why should they be more intelligent than\nother men, and what secrets and mysteries can they have? They\nhave neither. Atheism and infidelity is all the secret they have.\nYour Inquisitor does not believe in God, and that is all the\nMystery there is in it!\"\n\n\"It may be so. You have guessed rightly there. And it is so, and\nthat is his whole secret; but is this not the acutest sufferings\nfor such a man as he, who killed all his young life in asceticism\nin the desert, and yet could not cure himself of his love towards\nhis fellowmen? Toward the end of his life he becomes convinced\nthat it is only by following the advice of the great and terrible\nspirit that the fate of these millions of weak rebels, these\n'half-finished samples of humanity created in mockery' can be\nmade tolerable.  And once convinced of it, he sees as clearly\nthat to achieve that object, one must follow blindly the guidance\nof the wise spirit, the fearful spirit of death and destruction,\nhence accept a system of lies and deception and lead humanity\nconsciously this time toward death and destruction, and moreover,\nbe deceiving them all the while in order to prevent them from\nrealizing where they are being led, and so force the miserable\nblind men to feel happy, at least while here on earth. And note\nthis: a wholesale deception in the name of Him, in whose ideal\nthe old man had so passionately, so fervently, believed during\nnearly his whole life! Is this no suffering? And were such a\nsolitary exception found amidst, and at the head of, that army\n'that thirsts for power but for the sake of the mean pleasures of\nlife,' think you one such man would not suffice to bring on a\ntragedy? Moreover, one single man like my Inquisitor as a\nprincipal leader, would prove sufficient to discover the real\nguiding idea of the Romish system with all its armies of Jesuits,\nthe greatest and chiefest conviction that the solitary type\ndescribed in my poem has at no time ever disappeared from among\nthe chief leaders of that movement. Who knows but that terrible\nold man, loving humanity so stubbornly and in such an original\nway, exists even in our days in the shape of a whole host of such\nsolitary exceptions, whose existence is not due to mere chance,\nbut to a well-defined association born of mutual consent, to a\nsecret league, organized several centuries back, in order to\nguard the Mystery from the indiscreet eyes of the miserable and\nweak people, and only in view of their own happiness? And so it\nis; it cannot be otherwise. I suspect that even Masons have some\nsuch Mystery underlying the basis of their organization, and that\nit is just the reason why the Roman Catholic clergy hate them so,\ndreading to find in them rivals, competition, the dismemberment\nof the unity of the idea, for the realization of which one flock\nand one Shepherd are needed. However, in defending my idea, I\nlook like an author whose production is unable to stand\ncriticism. Enough of this.\"\n\n\"You are, perhaps, a Mason yourself!\" exclaimed Alyosha. \"You do\nnot believe in God,\" he added, with a note of profound sadness in\nhis voice. But suddenly remarking that his brother was looking at\nhim with mockery, \"How do you mean then to bring your poem to a\nclose?\" he unexpectedly enquired, casting his eyes downward, \"or\ndoes it break off here?\"\n\n\"My intention is to end it with the following scene: Having\ndisburdened his heart, the Inquisitor waits for some time to hear\nhis prisoner speak in His turn. His silence weighs upon him. He\nhas seen that his captive has been attentively listening to him\nall the time, with His eyes fixed penetratingly and softly on the\nface of his jailer, and evidently bent upon not replying to him.\nThe old man longs to hear His voice, to hear Him reply; better\nwords of bitterness and scorn than His silence. Suddenly He\nrises; slowly and silently approaching the Inquisitor, He bends\ntowards him and softly kisses the bloodless, four-score\nand-ten-year-old lips. That is all the answer. The Grand Inquisitor\nshudders. There is a convulsive twitch at the corner of his\nmouth. He goes to the door, opens it, and addressing Him, 'Go,'\nhe says, 'go, and return no more... do not come again... never,\nnever!' and--lets Him out into the dark night. The prisoner\nvanishes.\"\n\n\"And the old man?\"\n\n\"The kiss burns his heart, but the old man remains firm in his\nown ideas and unbelief.\"\n\n\"And you, together with him? You too!\" despairingly exclaimed\nAlyosha, while Ivan burst into a still louder fit of laughter.","title":"The Grand Inquisitor","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":9656}