evil one. The struggle begins to be cruel only when man directs his consciousness upon it, prepares it, strengthens and multiplies its energy tenfold and hundredfold.
As Pascal says: there are three kinds of people; one kind know nothing and sit quietly, and just as quiet are those who know; but there are a middle kind who don’t know but believe they do; from them comes all the evil in the world. They are the people in whom consciousness has awakened, but they don’t know how to use it.
2) The whole thing lies in this – that you should always remember who you are. There is no situation so difficult, from which the way out would not immediately offer itself, if you only would remember that you are not a temporary, material manifestation, but an eternal omnipresent being. “I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me shall never die, and though he were dead yet shall he live. Believest thou this?”
I walked on the street. A wretched beggar approached me. I forgot who I was and passed by. And then suddenly I remembered, and just as naturally as the hungry begin to eat and the tired sit down, I turned back and handed him something. It is the same with the temptation to quarrel, to insult, to be vain.
3) One can not voluntarily cease to remain awake, i. e. to fall asleep. Just as little can one voluntarily cease to live. Life is more important than the will, than desire. (Unclear.)
4) Receive with thankfulness the enjoyments of the flesh – all that you meet on the way, if they are not sinful – in short, if they do not go against your consciousness, if they do not make it suffer. But use the efforts of your will, your liberty, only to serve God.
I just wrote a letter to Crosby.38 He is working in America.
Dec. 24. Moscow. If I live.
Yesterday I received the “Open Letter” of Spielhagen, the Socialist, which appeared in the newspapers with regard to Drozhin.39
1896
January 23. Moscow.
Just a month that I made no entries. During this time I wrote a letter about patriotism40 and a letter to Crosby41 and here now for two weeks I have been writing the drama. I wrote three acts abominably. I thought to make an outline so as to form a charpente. I have little hope of success.
Chertkov and Kenworthy went away the 7th. Sonya went to Tver to Andrusha.42 To-day Nagornov43 died. I am again a little indisposed.
I jotted down during this time:
1) A true work of art – a contagious one – is produced only when the artist seeks, strives. In poetry this passion for representing that which is, comes from the fact that the artist hopes that having seen clearly and having fixed that which is, he will understand the meaning of that which is.
2) In every art there are two departures from the way, vulgarity and artificiality. Between them both there is only a narrow path. And this narrow path is outlined by impulse. If you have impulse and direction, you pass by both dangers. Of the two, the more terrible is artificiality.
3) It is impossible to compel reason to examine and clarify that which the heart does not wish.
4) It is bad when reason wishes to give the meaning of virtue to selfish efforts.
Kudinenko44 was here. A remarkable man. N. took the oath and is serving.45 A letter from Makovitsky46 with an article on the Nazarenes.47
Jan. 24. Moscow. If I live.
Jan. 25. Moscow.
During these two days the chief event was the death of Nagornov. Always new and full of meaning is death. It occurred to me: they represent death in the theatre. Does it produce 1/1,000,000 of that impression which the nearness of a real death produces?
I continue writing the drama. I have written four acts. All bad. But it is beginning to resemble a real thing.
Jan. 26. Mosc. If I live.
January 26. Moscow.
I am alive, but I don’t live. Strakhov – to-day I heard of his death.48 To-day they buried Nagornov – and that is news. I lay down to sleep, but could not sleep, and there appeared before me so clearly and brightly, an understanding of life whereby we would feel ourselves to be travellers. Before us lies a stage of the road with the same well-known conditions. How can one walk along that road otherwise than eagerly, gaily, friendly, and actively together, not grieving over the fact that you yourself are going away or that others are going ahead of you thither, where we shall again be still more together.
To-day I wrote a postscript to the letter to Crosby. A good letter from Kenworthy. Unpleasantness with N. He is a journalist.
Jan. 26 [27?]. Moscow. If I live.
Almost a month that I have made no entries. To-day, Feb. 13, Moscow.
I wanted to go to the Olsuphievs.49… There is much bustle here and it takes up much time. I sit down late to my work and therefore write little. I finished somehow the fifth act of the drama and took up Resurrection. I read over eleven chapters and am gradually advancing. I corrected the letter to Crosby.
An event – an important one – Strakhov’s death, and something else – Davydov’s conversation with the Emperor.50....
The article by Ertel51 that the efforts of the liberals are useful, and also the letter by Spielhagen on the same theme,52 provoke me. But I can not, I must not write. I have no time. The letters from Sopotsko53 and Zdziekhovsky54 on the Orthodox Church and on the Catholic, provoke me on the other hand. However, I shall hardly write. But here yesterday I received a letter from Grinevich’s55 mother on the religious bringing up of children. That I must do. At least I must use all my strength to do this.
Very much music – it is useless… As regards religion, I am very cool at present.
Thought during this time (much I have forgotten and have not written down):
1) Oh, not to forget death for a moment, into which at any moment you can fall! If we would only remember that we are not standing upon an even plain (if you think we are standing so, then you are only imagining that those who have gone away have fallen overboard and you yourself are afraid that you will fall overboard), but that we are rolling on, without stopping, running into each other, getting ahead and being got ahead of, yonder behind the curtain which hides from us those who are going away, and will hide us from those who remain. If we remember that always, then, how easy and joyous it is to live and roll together, yonder down the same incline, in the power of God, with Whom we have been and in Whose power we are now and will be afterwards and forever. I have been feeling this very keenly.
2) There is no more convincing proof of the existence of God, than the faculty of the soul by which we can transport ourselves into other beings. Out of this faculty flows both love and reason, but neither one nor the other is in us, but they are outside of us and we only coincide with them. (Unclear.)
3) The power to kill oneself is free play given to people. God did not want slaves in this life, but free workers. If you remain in this life, then it means that its conditions are advantageous to you. If advantageous – then work. If you go away from the conditions here, if you kill yourself, then the same thing will be put before you again there. So there is