We, not only rich men but men in a privileged position, so-called educated men, have gone so far along a false road that we need either great resolution, or the experience of great suffering on our false path, to enable us to come to ourselves and acknowledge the lie in which we are living.
Thanks to the sufferings to which the false path led me, I saw the falsehood of our life, and having acknowledged it I had the courage (at first only in thought) to follow reason and conscience without considering what they would lead me to. And I was rewarded for that courage. All the complex, disjointed, confused, unmeaning phenomena of life around me became at once clear, and my position amid those phenomena, which had been a strange and burdensome one, suddenly became natural and easy. And in that new situation my activity determined itself quite exactly, and was nothing like what I had previously imagined it would be, but was a new activity much more tranquil, agreeable, and joyous. The very things that formerly frightened me now became attractive.
And therefore I think that a man who sincerely sets himself the question, What to do? and in answering it does not lie to himself but goes the way his reason leads him, will have already answered the question. If only he does not lie to himself he will find out what to do, where to go and how to act. The one thing which may hinder his finding the way is a false and too high estimate of himself and his position. So it was with me and therefore a second reply-which flows from the first-to the question: What to do? consisted for me in repenting, in the full significance of that word, that is, completely changing my estimate of my own position and activity. Instead of considering our position useful and important, we just acknowledge its harmfulness and triviality; instead of priding ourselves on our education we must .admit our ignorance; in place of pride in our kindness and morality we must acknowledge our immorality and cruelty, and instead of our importance admit our insignificance.
I say that apart from not lying to myself I had also to repent, because, though the one flows from the other, a false impression of my high importance had so grown upon me that until I sincerely repented and put aside that false estimate of myself, I did not see the greater part of the lie I had told myself. Only when I repented, that is, ceased to consider myself a special kind of man and began to look on myself as a man like all others-only then did my path become plain to me.
Before that, I could not answer the question: What to do? because I put the very question wrongly. Till I repented I put the question thus: What activity shall I-a man with the education I have acquired and the talents I possess-what activity shall I choose?
How am I-by means of this education and these talents-to repay what I have taken and still take from the peasants? That question was incorrect because it contained in itself a false conception that I was not like other men but was a special kind of man called to serve people by the talents and education I had acquired by forty years’ exercise. I put the question to myself, but in reality I had answered it in advance by fixing beforehand the kind of activity agreeable to myself by which I was called upon to serve men. I really asked myself: How am I, such an admirable writer, who have acquired so much knowledge and possess such talents, to utilize them in the service of mankind?
The question should have been put as it should be put to a learned Rabbi who has studied the whole Talmud and learned the number of letters in all the sacred books and all the subtleties of his science.
The question, both for the Rabbi and for me, should have been this: What am I, who owing to my unfortunate position, during the best years for study have been learning the French language, the piano, grammar, geography, the science of jurisprudence, verses, stories and novels, philosophic theories, and military exercises, instead of learning to labour, what am I, who have passed the best years of my life in idle occupations depraving to the soul-what am I to do despite those unfortunate conditions of the past, in order to requite those who have all this time fed me and clothed me and who still continue to feed and clothe me?
If the question had presented itself as it does to me now after I have repented: What must I do, who am such a perverted man?-the answer would have been easy: try, first of all, to feed yourself honestly, that is to say, learn not to live on the backs of others; and while learning that, and after learning it, take every opportunity to serve others with hands, feet, brain, heart, and all the powers you possess and on which people make demands.
And therefore I say that for a man of our circle-besides not lying to himself or to others-it is also necessary to repent, to scrape off the pride that has grown upon us; pride of education, of refinement, and of talents, and to acknowledge oneself to be not a benefactor of others and an advanced man who is willing to share his useful acquisitions with the people, but to acknowledge oneself guilty all round, a spoilt, quite good-for nothing man, who wishes not to be a benefactor to the people but to reform himself and cease to offend and wrong them.
I often hear questions from good young people who sympathize with the negative part of my writings, and ask: ‘Then what must I do? What am I to do, who have taken my degree at the university, or some other establishment-What am I to do to be of use?’
These young people ask that, but in the depth of their souls have already decided that in the education they have received they possess a great advantage, and that they wish to serve the people just by means of that advantage. And therefore the one thing they will on no account do is to examine what they call their education honestly and critically and ask themselves whether it is a good or bad thing? If they do that, they will inevitably be led to repudiate their education and be obliged to begin to learn afresh; and that is just what is necessary.
They are quite unable to decide the question, What to do? because they do not see the question in its true light.
The question should be put thus: How can I, a helpless, useless man, who owing to unfortunate circumstances have wasted the best years for learning on studying a scientific Talmud pernicious to soul and to body, how can I rectify this mistake and learn to be of service to men? But it presents itself to them thus: How am I, who have acquired such admirable knowledge, to be of use to people by means of my admirable knowledge? And therefore the man will never answer the question: What to do? until he ceases to deceive himself, and repents. And repentance is not dreadful, just as the truth is not dreadful, but is equally joyous and fruitful. We need only accept the truth completely and repent fully, to understand that no one possesses any rights or privileges or can possess them, but has only endless and unlimited duties and obligations; and man’s first and most unquestionable duty is to participate in the struggle with nature to support his own life and that of others.
And this acknowledgement of a man’s duty forms the essence of the third answer to the question: What to do? .
I tried not to lie to myself. I tried to extirpate the false conception of the importance of my education and talents, and to repent; but on the road to the solution of the question, What to do? a new difficulty presented itself: there were so many things to be done that one needed an indication just what should be done in particular. And the reply to this question was given by sincere repentance of the evil in which I was living. What to do? Just what to do?-everyone asks, and I, too, asked it as long as, under the influence of a high opinion of my vocation, I did not see that my first and unquestionable business was to procure my own food, clothing, heating, and dwelling, and in doing this to serve others, because since the beginning of the world that has been the first and surest obligation of every man.
Only in that occupation does a man, if he participates in it, obtain full satisfaction for the physical and spiritual demands of his nature: to feed, clothe, and take care of himself and of those near to him, satisfies his physical needs, while to do the same for others satisfies his spiritual needs.
All man’s other activities become legitimate only when this prime demand is satisfied.
No matter wherein a man may see his vocation: whether in ruling men, in
