VII
DMITRY MEREZHKOVSKY
Unlike Gorky, Andreyev, and Tchekoff, Merezhkovsky was brought up inthe midst of comfort and elegance; he received a correct and carefuleducation; fate was solicitous for him, in that it allowed him todevelop that spirit of objective observation and calm meditationwhich permits a man to look down on the spectacle of life, andindulge in philosophical speculations very often divorced fromreality.
The son of an official of the imperial court, Merezhkovsky was bornin St. Petersburg in 1865. In this city he received his entireeducation, and here he gained the degree of bachelor of letters in1886.
He began his literary career with some poems which won for him acertain renown. In 1888, he published his first collection, and thena second in 1892, "The Symbols." At the same time, he publishedseveral translations from Greek and Latin authors.
As he was a friend of the unfortunate Nadson, and a pupil of thehumanitarian Pleshcheyev, Merezhkovsky wrote at first under theinfluence of the liberal ideas of his early masters. His verses,always harmonious, and a little affected, soon belied this tendencyand very frankly revealed his preferences. In the first collectionof his poems, vibrant with generous ideas, he proclaimed that hewanted, above all, "the joy of life," and that a poet should nothave any other cult than that of beauty.
The poem called "Vera" was his first real success. The extremesimplicity of the plot--the unfortunate love of a young professorand of a young weakly girl who dies of consumption in the veryflower of youth--and the very faithful reproduction of theintellectual life of Russia in 1880, give to this work theimportance of a document in some ways almost historic.
This poem is like a last tribute paid by the author to thehumanitarian and realistic tendencies of Russian literature.Afterward, yielding to the inclinations of his nature and his tastefor classical antiquity, Merezhkovsky insensibly changed. Whileacquiring, both in prose and in verse, an incontestable mastery, hecould now look only for a cold and haughty beauty which wassufficient unto itself. The beginning was hard, but then all cameeasier. After critical articles on the trend of modern literature,he published "The Reprobate," a bold dithyrambic on ancient Greekphilosophy. The poetry that followed was clearly Epicurean and incomplete contradiction to the altruistic tendencies of theneo-Christian period, which found an arch enemy in Nietzsche, whosephilosophy evidently influenced Merezhkovsky. However, thisevolution did not have a very favorable effect on his poetry; itbordered on an art the clarity of which approached dryness, while atthe same time its lack of tenderness reduced its symbolism to anartificial lyricism or to lifeless allegories.
* * * * *
Merezhkovsky works with untiring constancy to glorify antiquity. Hehas made excellent translations of Sophocles, Euripides, and of"Daphne and Chloe," that idyl of Longus that charmed both Goethe andCatherine II. He chooses the characters of his new poems from Greekand Latin mythology, and from themes inspired by an ardent love ofpaganism. He has written three prose works of considerable value:"The Death of the Gods," "The Resurrection of the Gods,"[12] and"Peter and Alexis." The general idea of all of these is the strugglebetween Greek polytheism and Christianity, between Christ andAntichrist, to use the author's expression, or, as Dostoyevsky usedto say, between the "man-God" and the "God-man."
[12] Also called "The Romance of Leonardo da Vinci, the Forerunner."
This struggle touches upon the gravest problem that can occupy thehuman mind, and continually puts before us this perplexing question:"Should the purpose of life be only the search for happiness andbeauty, or must we admit, as a law of nature, the dogma of sufferingand death?" The former of these conceptions found its supremeformula in Greek paganism. The ultimate expansion of the latterleads us, on the one hand, to faith,--to the religion of sacrifice,and, on the other hand, into the domain of philosophy,--to thedestruction of the desire to live, as conceived by Schopenhauer. Itis this struggle between the two principles of Hellenic philosophyand Christian faith that Merezhkovsky has tried to show us byfixing, in his novels, the historic moments when this strugglereached its greatest intensity; and by making appear in theseperiods the characters who, according to him, are most typical andrepresentative. For this reason he has chosen to give his readerspictures of the three epochs which he considers as culminating:first, the last attempt made to restore the worship of the gods ashort time after the Emperor Constantine had brought about theirruin; secondly, the Renaissance, which, in spite of triumphantChristianity, shows us a glorious renewal of the arts and sciencesof antiquity; finally, the beginning of the 18th century, the reignof Peter the Great, who tried to make a place for the gods ofantiquity in Russia, where they were regarded with horror by theorthodox clergy.
* * * * *
In his novel, "The Death of the Gods," Merezhkovsky has painted thefirst of these epochs, the different phases of which revolve aboutthe principal hero, the emperor Julian the Apostate. In "TheResurrection of the Gods" he develops, in sumptuous frescoes, theage of the Renaissance, personified by Leonardo da Vinci, who besttypifies the character and tendencies of that time. In "Peter andAlexis," he retraces Russian life in the beginning of the 18thcentury, when it was dominated by the extraordinary character ofPeter the Great.
Julian the Apostate was one of the last idolaters of expiringpaganism. But he could do nothing against the infatuation of themasses who were embracing the new religion, and it was in vain thathe employed both so much kindness and so much violence in order tosuppress Christianity. The reign of the gods was irrevocably ended.His soul filled with rage when he saw that he was powerless tochange the course of events. He ended by undertaking a foolhardyexpedition into Persia, thinking that that was the only way in whichto defeat Christ, triumph over the "cursed" religion, and bringback victoriously the altars of the dead gods. But the Olympians onwhom he had counted were of no service to him. According to theChristian legend, it was then, at the moment of death, that he criedout: "Galilean, thou hast conquered!" They say that he added: "Letthe Galileans conquer, for the victory will be ours, ... later. Thegods will come back ... we shall all be gods."
This scene is one of the finest in the book. Surrounded by somefaithful friends, Julian speaks, with his last breath, the wordswhich one of these friends, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, hasrecorded.
"His voice was low but clear. His whole presence breathed forthintellectual triumph, and from his eyes there still gleamedinvincible will. Ammianus's hand trembled as he wrote. But he knewthat he was writing on the tables of history, and transmitting tofuture generations the words of a great emperor:
"'Listen, friends; my hour is come, perhaps too soon. But you seethat I, like an honest debtor, rejoice in giving back my life toNature, and feel in my soul neither pain nor fear; nothing butcheerfulness, and a presentiment of eternal repose.... I have donemy duty, and have nothing to repent. From the days when, like ahunted animal, I awaited death in the palace of Marcellum, inCappadocia, up to the time when I assumed the purple of the RomanCaesars, I have tried to keep my soul spotless. If I have failed todo all that I desired, do not forget that our earthly deeds are inthe hands of Fate. And now I thank the Eternal Ruler for havingallowed me to die, not after a long sickness nor at the hands of anexecutioner, but on the battlefield, in full youth, with work aheadof me still to be done.... And, my dear friends, tell both myfriends and my enemies, how the Hellenes, endowed with divinewisdom, can die....'"
* * * * *
Revenge for the dying emperor was long in coming. But now, aftereleven centuries, the prophecy of Julian is accomplished: heroicantiquity, everlastingly young, arises from the grave. On all sidesthe gods are resurrected. Their marble effigies, so long buried,reappear. Both the powerful and the humble receive them withenthusiasm and rejoice at seeing them. It is an irresistibleoutburst which carries with it all classes of the Italian people.Like a wind-blown flame, Greek genius inspires a new life in theworld. But, whi
le a sweeter and more humane moral feeling tries toliberalize the church, the sombre voice of Savonarola, hardened bythe terrible corruption of manners, mounts ever more menacingly:
"Oh, Italy! oh, Rome! I am going to deliver you up into the hands ofa people who will efface you from among the nations. I see them, theenemies who descend like hungry tigers.... Florence, what have youdone? Do you want me to tell you? Your iniquity has heaped up themeasure; prepare for a terrible plague! Oh, Lord, thou art witnessthat I tried to keep off this crumbling ruin from my brothers; but Ican do no more, my strength is failing me. Do not sleep, oh, Lord!Dost Thou not see that we are becoming a shame to the world? Howmany times we have called to Thee! How many tears we have shed!Where is Thy providence? Where is Thy goodness? Where is Thyfidelity? Stretch forth Thy helping hand to us!"
And thus the antagonism between the "God-man" and the "man-God" ofHellenic paganism expresses itself more strongly than ever before.
The picture of the Renaissance that Merezhkovsky paints for us isvery full, very rich, at times even a little overburdened withepisodes and people. One constantly rubs shoulders with Leonardo daVinci, the duchess Beatrice of Este, regent of Milan, the favoriteLucrecia Crivelli, the mysterious Gioconda, Charles VIII, Louis XIIand Francis I, kings of France, and also with Caesar Borgia; we findhere the preaching of Savonarola, the death of the pope AlexanderVI (Borgia), Marshal Trivulce, the triumphal entry of the Frenchinto Milan, the diplomacy of Niccolo Machiavelli. In fact, as hasbeen said above, there are too many events and characters.
* * * * *
Two centuries go by and now we come to the third novel, "Peter andAlexis." The scene is in Russia, and the hero is Peter the Great,whom Merezhkovsky represents as a worshipper of things Olympian. Hegives a magnificent description of the orgies held by the emperor inhonor of Bacchus and Venus, especially the latter, whose statue heexpressly ordered from Rome and installed in the Summer Garden atSt. Petersburg.
In a veritable fairyland of avenues, of yoke-elms and flower-beds ingeometric designs, of enormous baskets filled with the choicestflowers, of straight canals, of ponds, of islets, of magnificentfountains, such a fairyland as Watteau would have dreamed of, thereis a Venetian fete with all sorts of fire-works and illuminations;small crafts, adorned with flags, are filled with men in goldengarments, girded with swords, and wearing three-cornered hats andbuckled shoes; and the women are dressed in velvet and covered withjewels.
The Tsar himself opens the case, and helps in placing the goddess onher pedestal. Again, as two hundred years before in Florence, theresurrected goddess, Aphrodite, emerges from the grave. The cordsstretch, the pulleys creak; she rises higher and higher. Peter isalmost of the same superhuman height as the statue. And his face,close to that of Aphrodite, remains noble: the man is worthy of thegoddess....
"The Immortal One--Aphrodite--was still the same that she was on thehillside in Florence; she had progressed further and further, fromage to age, from people to people, halting nowhere, till in hervictorious march she had reached the very ends of the earth, theHyperborean Scythia, beyond which there is naught but darkness anddeath...."
But what miseries this magnificent facade conceals! Not far off, onan island in the river, one can see people who are watching the feteand who think that they are present at one of the spectaclesforerunning doomsday. Among the crowd are seen the "raskolnik"Cornelius, old Vitalya of the "runners," deserters, the merchantIvanov, the clerk Dokounine ... and several others. In the fewremarks that they exchange, we can see that, for them, Peter theGreat is the Antichrist, "the beast announced by the Gospel."
Such is the tie that binds Peter the Great, Julian, and Leonardotogether. But this tie is weakened by the fact that Peter, anessentially practical and utilitarian genius, was not the man tobecome inspired with Hellenic poetry, and if the author introducesthe Tsar into the society of Julian the Apostate and of Leonardo daVinci, it is because Peter the Great was one of those indefatigablestrugglers, who, to attain their ends, put themselves above theobligations of ordinary morality, one of those supermen, whohesitate at nothing in satisfying the instincts of their egoisms, oftheir dominating wills. In fact, the heroes of Merezhkovsky's novelsall belong in the category of the Nietzschean type of superman,which explains their philosophical relationship and the sort oftrilogy which these three novels form. Thus, Julian the Apostate,who tried in vain during his life to make history repeat itself, bytransplanting pagan traditions into a plot which had become unfit toreceive them, and who died in the effort to preserve a faith--doesnot this man, then, incarnate that implacable pursuit of the"integral personality" so extolled by Nietzsche? Leonardo da Vinci,that great universal and keen mind, who gave himself over to all theimpulses of his creative genius, not caring whether the impulses areworthy or harmful, appears as a luminous manifestation of that stateof the soul "beyond good and bad" which characterizes the superman.And is not Peter the Great also a veritable superman; a man who,through his iron will, upset all the ancient institutions of agedRussia, and who did not even prevent the assassination of his sonAlexis, inasmuch as he thought that it was for the good of hiscountry?
At all events, the interest and value of "Peter and Alexis" does notrest in its philosophic ideas and in the Nietzschean obsession, butrather in the art with which Merezhkovsky faithfully depicts thepsychology of his heroes. The successive phases of this terribletragedy lead up to a striking climax, and set off, one against theother, temperaments so entirely opposed that the reciprocaltenderness of the father and son is transformed finally intosuspicion and hate, and the father resolves to sacrifice the life ofhis son to what appears to him to be the right of the State. Thenovel, although a little overburdened with details, is an excellentanalysis of the customs of the Russia of former times.
The source of the struggle between Peter and Alexis was known. Peterrepresented the West and the new ideas, while Alexis represented theRussia of old, rebellious to innovations which she considereddangerous. The author thus symbolizes the eternal conflict betweenthe past and the future. He has analyzed with consummate art thecharacters of his two heroes. Peter is a man full of contrasts; heis, like many Russians, "a brute and a child," by turns violent andgentle, knavish and simple, cruel and kind, practical and mystical,proud and modest. Possessed of a prodigious activity, he conceivestremendous projects which he immediately wants to put intoexecution, inspecting everything, verifying everything, finding nocare beneath his dignity, talking to the workingmen as if he wereone of them, not making long speeches, and fiercely, with cries ofrage, fighting dishonest contractors and tradesmen.
Set over against this irascible father, endowed with herculeanstrength, the Tsarevich Alexis, thin, pale, and delicate, makes asad figure. Most historians, following the example of Voltaire, haverepresented this prince as a narrow-minded person, a victim of thebigoted and intolerant education of the clergy. Merezhkovsky, a morediscreet psychologist, does not rely on these superficial data, butshades the portrait admirably. He makes Alexis an intelligent man,not like his father, but a man with a comprehensive, subtle spirit.He probably was crushed by the powerful individuality of his father.As he is closely in touch with the people, and knows theiraspirations, Alexis judges the work of his father with delicateinsight: "My father hopes," he says, "to do everything in a greathurry. One, two, three, and the affair is settled. He does notrealize that things done hastily do not last...."
While Peter is aware of his unpopularity, his son is loved by thetownspeople, the peasants, and the clergy. They say that, "Alexis isa man who seeks God and who does not want to upset everything: he isthe hope of the nation."
What the author has best shown in this novel is the degree to whichthe high society of this time was, under its exterior gorgeousness,barbarous and vulgar. A German girl, maid-of-honor to the wife ofAlexis, defines it in the following way: "Brandy, blood, coarseness.It is hard to say which is most prominent,--perhaps it iscoarseness." The boyards[13] she describes as: "Impudent sav
ages,baptized bears, who only make themselves more ridiculous when theytry to ape the Europeans."
[13] Russian noblemen.
* * * * *
As is evident, these three works of Merezhkovsky belong to the"genre" of the historical and philosophical novel which demands,besides the power to call up past ages, a careful education and thegift of clear-sightedness. And the novelist completely fulfillsthese requirements. He knows his subject, he studies all thenecessary documents with the greatest care and follows every storyto its source; finally, before taking up his pen, he visits thecountries and the cities in which the stories take place. Thus, inorder better to understand Leonardo da Vinci, in order to live hislife, the author of "The Resurrection of the Gods" traversed Italyand France from one end to the other, in the same way that he hadtraveled all over Greece so that he could give us a more life-likeJulian. With the same care, he spent a long time reading Russianhistorical documents in order to present the reader with a betterpicture of the customs of the time of Peter the Great. The result isa series of historical pictures, almost perfect in their accuracy.If Merezhkovsky had no other merit than this faithful portrayal ofthe past, his novels even then would be read with interest andpleasure.
Some critics have remarked that the most glaring defect in his bookslies in their construction. His novels often disregard the lawsrelating to this sort of literature, which demand the clevergrouping of the characters and events around a principal hero. It istrue that this unity and the sense of proportion absolutelynecessary for any sort of harmony are not to be found in his works.The details predominate to the detriment of important facts; thepeople of secondary importance are sometimes drawn better than theheroes themselves, whose adventures are entirely unconnected. Thereis a series of jumps from one situation to another, with gaps andinterruptions of considerable length, which break the chain ofevents. It is for this reason that, instead of seeing a historicalfresco, we see a whole gallery of sketches, executed with subtleartistry, but insufficiently connected with the main action of thedrama.
These observations apply especially to the first attempt of theyoung author: "The Death of the Gods"; "The Resurrection of theGods" and "Peter and Alexis" are more skilfully composed. Theyindicate a stronger tendency towards unity; one feels that aninfinitely firmer and more experienced brush has been used; thecolors are richer and they do not suffer from that monotony ofeffect and of color so noticeable in "The Death of the Gods," wherethe author too often uses the same devices. As to the characters ofLeonardo da Vinci and Peter the Great, they are very carefullyworked out, and the events in the lives of the Italian master andthe Russian Tsar are narrated with magnificent psychologicalanalysis, which forces the reader to sympathize with the heroes evenmore than he would naturally.
Merezhkovsky has also been accused of being over-educated. Theinnumerable documents presented do not bear closely enough upon theaction, the result being that many of his pages read like mereannals. They interest the reader but do not move him. This is onereason why some critics, essentially different in spirit fromMerezhkovsky, have believed themselves right in denying that he hasany talent. But this accusation falls of itself in the face of thepower of the inspiration which pervades his work, and the dramaticsense which he displays in setting forth the events and personages.It is impossible, for instance, to read without the deepest emotionthe story of the last days of Leonardo da Vinci, where the authorestablishes the tragic contrast between the outward signs of glory,the superficial honors with which this genius is overwhelmed, andthe moral solitude which afflicts him to the very end, which comeswhen he is among people who are strangers to his soul. All thechildhood recollections of this same Da Vinci are full of charm.There is a veritable master spirit shown in the chapters in whichthe author portrays for us the enigmatic and seductive Mona Lisa.Finally, he has given us a relief of rare energy in the terriblestruggle between Peter and Alexis, between the man of iron whomnothing can affect and his son, kind and timid, who, while having amortal fear of his father, still loves him. As to certain pages,like those which describe the strange inner life of the TsarinaMarfa Matveyevna, "living by the light of candles, in an old housesavouring of the oil of night-lamps, the dust and the putrificationof centuries," these pages are a veritable tour de force if onlybecause of the plasticity and richness of the author's vocabulary.
Finally, what tragic horror there is in the supreme struggle wherethe emperor, the assassin of his son, sees his isolation and feelshis weakness, "like a large deer gnawed at by flies and lice untilthe blood runs!"
* * * * *
Besides his novels Merezhkovsky has published several essays, onPushkin, Maykov, Korolenko, Calderon, the French neo-romanticists,Ibsen and others.... The most important of all are: "The Causes ofthe Decadence of Modern Russian Literature" and "Tolstoy andDostoyevsky." He reveals here a fine and penetrating power ofobservation, which, however, is often obscured because of hisobsession by Nietzschean ideas. Moreover, he does not hide hisantipathy to the people whose literary tastes and ideas differ fromhis. From this characteristic comes strange exaggerations and asomewhat limited appreciation of men and events. An example ofthis, for instance, is the impression that he gives in his study ofthe causes of the decadence of modern Russian literature, thesubject of which imposes upon the author the double task oflooking up the causes of this decadence and also proving that itexists. He has not succeeded. In fact, it appears that this idea ofdecadence exists only in the minds of the author and of a smallcircle of writers who have the same ideas about the mission ofliterature. Merezhkovsky is absolutely right in all that he saysabout the fact that Russian writers live solitary, deprived of thatprecious excitation which is felt when one is in contact withoriginal and different temperaments; but if you add to this, as hehas done, the statement that Russia does not possess a literatureworthy of the name, you go too far. Without being a great scholar,it is easy to perceive that our contemporary Russian authors arelegitimate sons of Turgenev, Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, and grandsonsof Gogol, who himself is closely related to Pushkin. A democraticand humanitarian realism--widely separated from the Nietzscheism ofMerezhkovsky--strongly characterizes the Russian lineage.
In his book on Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky he spends a long time indifferentiating between the artistic intuition of these two greatmasters, who are, according to him, the most profound expression ofthe popular and higher element of Russian culture.
What strikes him first in Tolstoy is the insistence with which hedescribes "animal man." In a kind of "leitmotiv" Merezhkovsky hasshown us the Tolstoyan characters individualized by very particularcorporal signs. "Tolstoy," he says, "has, to the very highestdegree, the gift of clairvoyance of the flesh; even when dead, theflesh has a tongue." He is the subtle painter of all sensations andhe is a master in this domain. But his art diminishes singularly,and even disappears when he tries to analyze the soul within theflesh. Dostoyevsky, on the other hand, triumphs in his dialogue; onesees his characters because one shares all their sadness, theirpassions, their intelligence, and their sensibility. Dostoyevsky isthe painter of the depths of the human soul, which he portrays withalmost supernatural acuteness. And, as Tolstoy is "the seer of theflesh," so is Dostoyevsky "the seer of the soul."
Having established this difference in principle, Merezhkovsky, byconstant deduction, concludes, in consonance with his favorite idea,that Tolstoy personifies "the pagan spirit" at its height, whileDostoyevsky represents "the Christian spirit." There is a great dealof fine drawn reasoning in all of this, some very original ideas,but a great many paradoxes. Even the very personality of Tolstoy,the analysis of which occupies a large part of the book, isbelittled in the hands of Merezhkovsky. Instead of a noblecharacter, one sees a very vain person, preoccupied only withhimself. It is in this simple way that Merezhkovsky explains themoral evolution which led Tolstoy to make those long and sad studiesof a kind of life compatible with the true good of humanity, andforced him to them
by "the anguish of the black mystery of death"which, having got possession of the author of "Anna Karenina" in hissixtieth year, in the midst of a life of prosperity, made him hatehis fortune and his comfort, which formerly had been so dear to him.In the refusal of Tolstoy to "bow to the great authorities of theliterary world, such as AEschylus, Dante, and Shakespeare," a refusalwhich is only the logical consequence of his ideas on the principleand purpose of art, Merezhkovsky can only see a lack of generalculture. Finally, the sort of life he led toward the end of his dayscame only "from the desire to know and taste the pleasure ofsimplicity in all its subtleties." "The admirable Epicurus," saysMerezhkovsky, "that joyous sage, who, in the very center of Athens,cultivated with his own hands a tiny garden, and taught men not tobelieve in any human or divine chimeras, but to be contented withthe simple happiness that can be given by a single sunbeam, aflower, a sup of water from an earthen cup, or the summer time,would recognize in Tolstoy his faithful disciple, the only one,perhaps, who survives in this barbaric silence, where Americancomfort, a mixture of effeminacy and indigence, has made one forgetthe real purpose of life...."
In writing these lines, Merezhkovsky must have forgotten thatTolstoy, in proclaiming his ideas on religion and humanity, preparedhimself, not for Epicurean pleasures, but for seclusion in one ofthe terrible dungeons of a Russian monastery (now in disuse) underthe persecutions of a temporal and secular authority, and it was nothis fault that, by a sort of miracle, he escaped this fate.
Dostoyevsky's life is the exact opposite of Tolstoy's. The story ofDostoyevsky's terrible existence is probably known. Born in analms-house, he never ceased to suffer, and to love.... It is hard tothink of two people more absolutely different than Tolstoy andDostoyevsky. But Merezhkovsky loves violent contrasts; in the sharpdifference between these two writers, he sees the permanent union oftwo controlling ideas of the Russian Renaissance and the imminenceof a final sympathy, symbolic of a concluding harmony.
* * * * *
We have, by turns, studied Merezhkovsky as a poet, a novelist, and acritic. The greatest merit of his literary personality rests in theperfect art with which he calls up the past.
But Merezhkovsky is not only an artist. As we have noted, hisnovels have, as their end, one of the greatest contradictions ofhuman life,--the synthesis of the voluptuous representations of thereligion of classical antiquity and the moral principles ofChristianity. It is, therefore, natural to ask whether he has inany way approached his goal and just where he sees the salvation ofhumanity, the present situation of which seems to him desperate.The answer to this question can be found in his book, "HamTriumphant."[14] Our study of Merezhkovsky's literary characterwould be incomplete if the ideas of this book were not set forth.
[14] In Russia, the name of the biblical Ham has become synonymous with servility and moral baseness. Merezhkovsky employs this scornful term to designate those people who are strangers to the higher tendencies of the mind and are entirely taken up with material interests. His "Ham Triumphant" is the Antichrist, whose reign, as predicted by the Apocalypse, will begin with the final victory of the bourgeoisie. In one chapter of this book, Merezhkovsky proves that the writers of western Europe and Russia (Byron and Lermontov) err in crowning this Antichrist with an aureole of proud revolutionary majesty, for, since he is the enemy of all that is divine in man, he can only be a character of shabby mediocrity and human banality, that is to say, a veritable "Ham."
According to Merezhkovsky, the present evil in the world consistsentirely in the moral void which results from the disappearance ofthe Christian ideal from the soul. The loss of this ideal wasinevitable, and even productive of good, because it had been somutilated and deformed by the Church, that Christian religion becamea symbol of the reaction, and its God synonymous with executioner.Humanity will rid itself of Christianity. But nothing will replaceit, unless it be the philosophy of positivism, a sort of materialreligion of the appetites and the senses, which gives no answer toour anguish and our mystical instincts. This philosophy presided atthe formation of a miserable society, an egotistical and mediocrebourgeoisie, who have no spiritual tendencies, and are incapable ofsacrificing themselves to any ideal other than that of money.
John Stuart Mill said that the bourgeoisie would transform Europeinto a China; the Russian publicist Hertzen, frightened by thevictories of socialism, in 1848, foresaw the end of Europeancivilization, drowned in a wave of blood. Merezhkovsky affirms thatthe Chinese and the Japanese, being the most complete and the mostpersevering representatives of this "terrestrial" religion, willwithout fail conquer Europe, where positivism still bears sometraces of Christian romanticism. "The Chinese," he says, "areperfect positivists, while the Europeans are not yet perfectChinese, and, in this respect, the Americans are perfect Europeans."Where is one to look for safety against this heavy load on theunderstanding and this future humiliation? In socialism, one says.But socialism, if it is not yet bourgeois, is almost so. "Thestarved proletariat and the rejected bourgeois have differenteconomic opinions," says Merezhkovsky, "but their ideal is the same,the pursuit of happiness." As it is but a step from the prudence ofthe bourgeois to the exasperated state of the starved proletariat,this pursuit can lead to nothing else but international atrocitiesof militarism and chauvinism. Progress having become the soleambition of the cultivated barbarians, satiety became theirreligion, and the only hope of escaping from this barbarism was toadopt the religion of love, founded by Jesus. Jesus said to thosewho were treated with violence, and who, in turn, had used violencein trying to free themselves: "Truth (love) will set you free."These words, which identify truth with love, contain in themselvesthe profoundest social and personal morality. They inspired thefirst martyrs of Christianity; but in time they were forgotten bythe Church. Succumbing to the "diabolical seduction of power,"religion itself became a power, an autocracy; people submitted tothis power, and thus the Byzantine and Russian orthodoxy came intoexistence. In this manner, the morals of the government,antichristian in essence, became the doctrine of Christianity; andthe particular morals of the latter became transformed into amysterious gospel of life, relegating its aspirations to anexistence beyond the tomb. Now there is nothing for Christianity todo but return to its first sources and develop the principles ofuniversal religion found there. One should no longer be concernedwith heavenly and personal advantage, but with earthly affairs andsocial conditions; instead of being conquered by the government oneshould conquer it, permeate it with one's spirit, and thus realizethe prophecy in the Apocalypse of the millennium of the saints onearth, and destroy the forms of the power of the government, thelaws, and the empire. Such a renewal of Christianity demands anenergetic struggle, self-forgetfulness, and martyrs. But where isone to find the necessary forces? Merezhkovsky does not see them inthe States of western Europe, because the "intellectuals" there areantichristians and are congealed in their bourgeois positivism."Above these Christian states, above these old Gothic stores," saysMerezhkovsky, "rises, here and there, a Protestant wooden cross,half rotted; or a Catholic one of iron, all rusted, and no one paysany attention to them." What purity and nobility remains canmanifest itself only in certain scattered individuals, in such greathermits as Nietzsche, Ibsen, Flaubert, Goethe in his old age; theyare like deep artesian wells which prove that, beneath the aridearth there is still some flowing water. There is nothing of thissort in Russia. Although backward from the point of view of progressand politics, this country produced the "intellectuals" who formsomething unique in our present civilization: in essence, they areanti-bourgeois. "The positivism which the Russian 'intellectuals'have adopted by way of imitation is rejected by their feelings,their conscience, and their will; it is an artificial monument thatis set up in their minds only."
Merezhkovsky, then, has reason for thinking that the socialrenovation of Christianity will be accomplished in Russia. And asthis work is the especial concern of the clergy, Merezhkovsky, whoseveral years ago was present at a meeting where the Russi
an priestsaffirmed their desire to free themselves from the yoke of theirreligious and secular chiefs, proposed to accomplish this greatmission. "It is indispensable," he says, "for the Russian Church tountie the knots that bind it to the decayed forms of the autocracy,to unite itself to the 'intellectuals' and to take an active part inthe struggle for the great political and social deliverance ofRussia. The Church should not think of its own liberty at present,but of martyrdom."
We will not criticize these, perhaps illusory, ideas and previsionsof Merezhkovsky. Russian life has become an enigma; who knows towhat moral crisis the social conscience may be led by the presentpolitical crisis? Merezhkovsky's Olympian aesthetics have made him aforeigner in Russian literature. Yet as soon as the tempest burstforth, certain familiar traits showed themselves, traits common tothe best Russian writers and to the general spirit of Russianliterature. In his absolute, and even exaggerated, distaste for"bourgeoisisme," and his desire for an ideal, he is a legitimate sonof this literature. The nature of his ideas is in harmony with thosewe have already found in Tolstoy, with his gospel of Christiananarchism, in Dostoyevsky, with his ideas about the "omni-humanity"of the Russian spirit, in Vladimir Solovyev, with his idea ofuniversal theocracy, and, finally, in Chadayev, one of the mostremarkable thinkers of the first half of the last century, who,although now almost forgotten, was the real source of all theseideas.
Thus in the conception of socialized Christianity Merezhkovsky seeksthe end of the great antithesis between the "God-man" and the"man-God," between Christ and Bacchus, an antithesis which makes thegenerality of men often conduct themselves after the manner of thatGerman petty kingdom, of which Heine speaks, where the people, whilevenerating Christ, do not forget to honor Bacchus by abundantlibations. Merezhkovsky's idea ought to appear in the form of asynthetic fusion of the joyous religion of Greece and the religionof love, as taught by Jesus.[15]
[15] Merezhkovsky has also written a long historical drama, called "The Death of Paul I." He traces there, with his accustomed animation, the figure of the weak and criminal Tsar, now heaping favors upon those who surround him, now persecuting them with the most terrible cruelty. The savage scene of the assassination of this tyrant is of remarkable beauty.