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Title: The Grand Inquisitor

Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Translator: H. P. Blavatsky

Release date: July 1, 2005 [eBook #8578]
Most recently updated: December 26, 2020

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8578

Credits: Produced by Jake Jaqua. HTML version by Al Haines.

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRAND
INQUISITOR ***

THE GRAND INQUISITOR

By

Feodor Dostoevsky
(Translation by H.P. Blavatsky)

[Dedicated by the Translator to those sceptics who clamour so loudly,
both in print and private letters—"Show us the wonder-working 'Brothers,'
let them come out publicly—and we will believe in them!"]

[The following is an extract from M. Dostoevsky's celebrated novel, The
Brothers Karamazof, the last publication from the pen of the great Russian
novelist, who died a few months ago, just as the concluding chapters
appeared in print. Dostoevsky is beginning to be recognized as one of the
ablest and profoundest among Russian writers. His characters are invariably
typical portraits drawn from various classes of Russian society, strikingly
life-like and realistic to the highest degree. The following extract is a
cutting satire on modern theology generally and the Roman Catholic
religion in particular. The idea is that Christ revisits earth, coming to Spain
at the period of the Inquisition, and is at once arrested as a heretic by the
Grand Inquisitor. One of the three brothers of the story, Ivan, a rank
materialist and an atheist of the new school, is supposed to throw this
conception into the form of a poem, which he describes to Alyosha—the
youngest of the brothers, a young Christian mystic brought up by a "saint"
in a monastery—as follows: (—Ed. Theosophist, Nov., 1881)]

"Quite impossible, as you see, to start without an introduction," laughed
Ivan. "Well, then, I mean to place the event described in the poem in the
sixteenth century, an age—as you must have been told at school—when it

was the great fashion among poets to make the denizens and powers of
higher worlds descend on earth and mix freely with mortals... In France all
the notaries' clerks, and the monks in the cloisters as well, used to give
grand performances, dramatic plays in which long scenes were enacted by
the Madonna, the angels, the saints, Christ, and even by God Himself. In
those days, everything was very artless and primitive. An instance of it may
be found in Victor Hugo's drama, Notre Dame de Paris, where, at the
Municipal Hall, a play called Le Bon Jugement de la Tres-sainte et
Gracièuse Vierge Marie, is enacted in honour of Louis XI, in which the
Virgin appears personally to pronounce her 'good judgment.' In Moscow,
during the prepetrean period, performances of nearly the same character,
chosen especially from the Old Testament, were also in great favour. Apart
from such plays, the world was overflooded with mystical writings,
'verses'—the heroes of which were always selected from the ranks of
angels, saints and other heavenly citizens answering to the devotional
purposes of the age. The recluses of our monasteries, like the Roman
Catholic monks, passed their time in translating, copying, and even
producing original compositions upon such subjects, and that, remember,
during the Tarter period!... In this connection, I am reminded of a poem
compiled in a convent—a translation from the Greek, of course—called,
'The Travels of the Mother of God among the Damned,' with fitting
illustrations and a boldness of conception inferior nowise to that of Dante.
The 'Mother of God' visits hell, in company with the archangel Michael as
her cicerone to guide her through the legions of the 'damned.' She sees them
all, and is witness to their multifarious tortures. Among the many other
exceedingly remarkably varieties of torments—every category of sinners
having its own—there is one especially worthy of notice, namely a class of
the 'damned' sentenced to gradually sink in a burning lake of brimstone and
fire. Those whose sins cause them to sink so low that they no longer can
rise to the surface are for ever forgotten by God, i.e., they fade out from the
omniscient memory, says the poem—an expression, by the way, of an
extraordinary profundity of thought, when closely analysed. The Virgin is
terribly shocked, and falling down upon her knees in tears before the throne
of God, begs that all she has seen in hell—all, all without exception, should
have their sentences remitted to them. Her dialogue with God is colossally
interesting. She supplicates, she will not leave Him. And when God,
pointing to the pierced hands and feet of her Son, cries, 'How can I forgive

His executioners?' She then commands that all the saints, martyrs, angels
and archangels, should prostrate themselves with her before the Immutable
and Changeless One and implore Him to change His wrath into mercy and
—forgive them all. The poem closes upon her obtaining from God a
compromise, a kind of yearly respite of tortures between Good Friday and
Trinity, a chorus of the 'damned' singing loud praises to God from their
'bottomless pit,' thanking and telling Him:

Thou art right, O Lord, very right,
Thou hast condemned us justly.

"My poem is of the same character.

"In it, it is Christ who appears on the scene. True, He says nothing, but
only appears and passes out of sight. Fifteen centuries have elapsed since
He left the world with the distinct promise to return 'with power and great
glory'; fifteen long centuries since His prophet cried, 'Prepare ye the way of
the Lord!' since He Himself had foretold, while yet on earth, 'Of that day
and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven but my Father only.'
But Christendom expects Him still. ...

"It waits for Him with the same old faith and the same emotion; aye,
with a far greater faith, for fifteen centuries have rolled away since the last
sign from heaven was sent to man,

And blind faith remained alone
To lull the trusting heart,
As heav'n would send a sign no more.

"True, again, we have all heard of miracles being wrought ever since the
'age of miracles' passed away to return no more. We had, and still have, our
saints credited with performing the most miraculous cures; and, if we can
believe their biographers, there have been those among them who have
been personally visited by the Queen of Heaven. But Satan sleepeth not,
and the first germs of doubt, and ever-increasing unbelief in such wonders,
already had begun to sprout in Christendom as early as the sixteenth
century. It was just at that time that a new and terrible heresy first made its
appearance in the north of Germany.* [*Luther's reform] A great star

'shining as it were a lamp... fell upon the fountains waters'... and 'they were
made bitter.' This 'heresy' blasphemously denied 'miracles.' But those who
had remained faithful believed all the more ardently, the tears of mankind
ascended to Him as heretofore, and the Christian world was expecting Him
as confidently as ever; they loved Him and hoped in Him, thirsted and
hungered to suffer and die for Him just as many of them had done before....
So many centuries had weak, trusting humanity implored Him, crying with
ardent faith and fervour: 'How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not
come!' So many long centuries hath it vainly appealed to Him, that at last,
in His inexhaustible compassion, He consenteth to answer the prayer.... He
decideth that once more, if it were but for one short hour, the people—His
long-suffering, tortured, fatally sinful, his loving and child-like, trusting
people—shall behold Him again. The scene of action is placed by me in
Spain, at Seville, during that terrible period of the Inquisition, when, for the
greater glory of God, stakes were flaming all over the country.

Burning wicked heretics,
In grand auto-da-fes.

"This particular visit has, of course, nothing to do with the promised
Advent, when, according to the programme, 'after the tribulation of those
days,' He will appear 'coming in the clouds of heaven.' For, that 'coming of
the Son of Man,' as we are informed, will take place as suddenly 'as the
lightning cometh out of the east and shineth even unto the west.' No; this
once, He desired to come unknown, and appear among His children, just
when the bones of the heretics, sentenced to be burnt alive, had commenced
crackling at the flaming stakes. Owing to His limitless mercy, He mixes
once more with mortals and in the same form in which He was wont to
appear fifteen centuries ago. He descends, just at the very moment when
before king, courtiers, knights, cardinals, and the fairest dames of court,
before the whole population of Seville, upwards of a hundred wicked
heretics are being roasted, in a magnificent auto-da-fe ad majorem Dei
gloriam, by the order of the powerful Cardinal Grand Inquisitor.

"He comes silently and unannounced; yet all—how strange—yea, all
recognize Him, at once! The population rushes towards Him as if propelled
by some irresistible force; it surrounds, throngs, and presses around, it

follows Him.... Silently, and with a smile of boundless compassion upon
His lips, He crosses the dense crowd, and moves softly on. The Sun of Love
burns in His heart, and warm rays of Light, Wisdom and Power beam forth
from His eyes, and pour down their waves upon the swarming multitudes of
the rabble assembled around, making their hearts vibrate with returning
love. He extends His hands over their heads, blesses them, and from mere
contact with Him, aye, even with His garments, a healing power goes forth.
An old man, blind from his birth, cries, 'Lord, heal me, that I may see Thee!'
and the scales falling off the closed eyes, the blind man beholds Him... The
crowd weeps for joy, and kisses the ground upon which He treads. Children
strew flowers along His path and sing to Him, 'Hosanna!' It is He, it is
Himself, they say to each other, it must be He, it can be none other but He!
He pauses at the portal of the old cathedral, just as a wee white coffin is
carried in, with tears and great lamentations. The lid is off, and in the coffin
lies the body of a fair-child, seven years old, the only child of an eminent
citizen of the city. The little corpse lies buried in flowers. 'He will raise the
child to life!' confidently shouts the crowd to the weeping mother. The
officiating priest who had come to meet the funeral procession, looks
perplexed, and frowns. A loud cry is suddenly heard, and the bereaved
mother prostrates herself at His feet. 'If it be Thou, then bring back my child
to life!' she cries beseechingly. The procession halts, and the little coffin is
gently lowered at his feet. Divine compassion beams forth from His eyes,
and as He looks at the child, His lips are heard to whisper once more,
'Talitha Cumi'—and 'straightway the damsel arose.' The child rises in her
coffin. Her little hands still hold the nosegay of white roses which after
death was placed in them, and, looking round with large astonished eyes she
smiles sweetly .... The crowd is violently excited. A terrible commotion
rages among them, the populace shouts and loudly weeps, when suddenly,
before the cathedral door, appears the Cardinal Grand Inquisitor himself....
He is tall, gaunt-looking old man of nearly four-score years and ten, with a
stern, withered face, and deeply sunken eyes, from the cavity of which
glitter two fiery sparks. He has laid aside his gorgeous cardinal's robes in
which he had appeared before the people at the auto da-fe of the enemies of
the Romish Church, and is now clad in his old, rough, monkish cassock. His
sullen assistants and slaves of the 'holy guard' are following at a distance.
He pauses before the crowd and observes. He has seen all. He has witnessed
the placing of the little coffin at His feet, the calling back to life. And now,

his dark, grim face has grown still darker; his bushy grey eyebrows nearly
meet, and his sunken eye flashes with sinister light. Slowly raising his
finger, he commands his minions to arrest Him....

"Such is his power over the well-disciplined, submissive and now
trembling people, that the thick crowds immediately give way, and
scattering before the guard, amid dead silence and without one breath of
protest, allow them to lay their sacrilegious hands upon the stranger and
lead Him away.... That same populace, like one man, now bows its head to
the ground before the old Inquisitor, who blesses it and slowly moves
onward. The guards conduct their prisoner to the ancient building of the
Holy Tribunal; pushing Him into a narrow, gloomy, vaulted prison-cell,
they lock Him in and retire....

"The day wanes, and night—a dark, hot breathless Spanish night—
creeps on and settles upon the city of Seville. The air smells of laurels and
orange blossoms. In the Cimmerian darkness of the old Tribunal Hall the
iron door of the cell is suddenly thrown open, and the Grand Inquisitor,
holding a dark lantern, slowly stalks into the dungeon. He is alone, and, as
the heavy door closes behind him, he pauses at the threshold, and, for a
minute or two, silently and gloomily scrutinizes the Face before him. At last
approaching with measured steps, he sets his lantern down upon the table
and addresses Him in these words:

"'It is Thou! ... Thou!' ... Receiving no reply, he rapidly continues: 'Nay,
answer not; be silent! ... And what couldst Thou say? ... I know but too well
Thy answer.... Besides, Thou hast no right to add one syllable to that which
was already uttered by Thee before.... Why shouldst Thou now return, to
impede us in our work? For Thou hast come but for that only, and Thou
knowest it well. But art Thou as well aware of what awaits Thee in the
morning? I do not know, nor do I care to know who thou mayest be: be it
Thou or only thine image, to-morrow I will condemn and burn Thee on the
stake, as the most wicked of all the heretics; and that same people, who to-
day were kissing Thy feet, to-morrow at one bend of my finger, will rush to
add fuel to Thy funeral pile... Wert Thou aware of this?' he adds, speaking
as if in solemn thought, and never for one instant taking his piercing glance
off the meek Face before him."....

"I can hardly realize the situation described—what is all this, Ivan?"
suddenly interrupted Alyosha, who had remained silently listening to his
brother. "Is this an extravagant fancy, or some mistake of the old man, an
impossible quid pro quo?"

"Let it be the latter, if you like," laughed Ivan, "since modern realism has
so perverted your taste that you feel unable to realize anything from the
world of fancy.... Let it be a quid pro quo, if you so choose it. Again, the
Inquisitor is ninety years old, and he might have easily gone mad with his
one idee fixe of power; or, it might have as well been a delirious vision,
called forth by dying fancy, overheated by the auto-da-fe of the hundred
heretics in that forenoon.... But what matters for the poem, whether it was a
quid pro quo or an uncontrollable fancy? The question is, that the old man
has to open his heart; that he must give out his thought at last; and that the
hour has come when he does speak it out, and says loudly that which for
ninety years he has kept secret within his own breast."

"And his prisoner, does He never reply? Does He keep silent, looking at
him, without saying a word?"

"Of course; and it could not well be otherwise," again retorted Ivan.
"The Grand Inquisitor begins from his very first words by telling Him that
He has no right to add one syllable to that which He had said before. To
make the situation clear at once, the above preliminary monologue is
intended to convey to the reader the very fundamental idea which underlies
Roman Catholicism—as well as I can convey it, his words mean, in short:
'Everything was given over by Thee to the Pope, and everything now rests
with him alone; Thou hast no business to return and thus hinder us in our
work.' In this sense the Jesuits not only talk but write likewise.

"'Hast thou the right to divulge to us a single one of the mysteries of that
world whence Thou comest?' enquires of Him my old Inquisitor, and
forthwith answers for Him. 'Nay, Thou has no such right. For, that would be
adding to that which was already said by Thee before; hence depriving
people of that freedom for which Thou hast so stoutly stood up while yet on
earth.... Anything new that Thou would now proclaim would have to be
regarded as an attempt to interfere with that freedom of choice, as it would
come as a new and a miraculous revelation superseding the old revelation

of fifteen hundred years ago, when Thou didst so repeatedly tell the people:
"The truth shall make you free." Behold then, Thy "free" people now!' adds
the old man with sombre irony. 'Yea!... it has cost us dearly.' he continues,
sternly looking at his victim. 'But we have at last accomplished our task,
and—in Thy name.... For fifteen long centuries we had to toil and suffer
owing to that "freedom": but now we have prevailed and our work is done,
and well and strongly it is done. ....Believest not Thou it is so very strong?
... And why should Thou look at me so meekly as if I were not worthy even
of Thy indignation?... Know then, that now, and only now, Thy people feel
fully sure and satisfied of their freedom; and that only since they have
themselves and of their own free will delivered that freedom unto our hands
by placing it submissively at our feet. But then, that is what we have done.
Is it that which Thou has striven for? Is this the kind of "freedom" Thou has
promised them?'"

"Now again, I do not understand," interrupted Alyosha. "Does the old
man mock and laugh?"

"Not in the least. He seriously regards it as a great service done by
himself, his brother monks and Jesuits, to humanity, to have conquered and
subjected unto their authority that freedom, and boasts that it was done but
for the good of the world. 'For only now,' he says (speaking of the
Inquisition) 'has it become possible to us, for the first time, to give a serious
thought to human happiness. Man is born a rebel, and can rebels be ever
happy?... Thou has been fairly warned of it, but evidently to no use, since
Thou hast rejected the only means which could make mankind happy;
fortunately at Thy departure Thou hast delivered the task to us.... Thou has
promised, ratifying the pledge by Thy own words, in words giving us the
right to bind and unbind... and surely, Thou couldst not think of depriving
us of it now!'"

"But what can he mean by the words, 'Thou has been fairly warned'?"
asked Alexis.

"These words give the key to what the old man has to say for his
justification... But listen—

"'The terrible and wise spirit, the spirit of self annihilation and non-
being,' goes on the Inquisitor, 'the great spirit of negation conversed with
Thee in the wilderness, and we are told that he "tempted" Thee... Was it so?
And if it were so, then it is impossible to utter anything more truthful than
what is contained in his three offers, which Thou didst reject, and which are
usually called "temptations." Yea; if ever there was on earth a genuine
striking wonder produced, it was on that day of Thy three temptations, and
it is precisely in these three short sentences that the marvelous miracle is
contained. If it were possible that they should vanish and disappear for ever,
without leaving any trace, from the record and from the memory of man,
and that it should become necessary again to devise, invent, and make them
reappear in Thy history once more, thinkest Thou that all the world's sages,
all the legislators, initiates, philosophers and thinkers, if called upon to
frame three questions which should, like these, besides answering the
magnitude of the event, express in three short sentences the whole future
history of this our world and of mankind—dost Thou believe, I ask Thee,
that all their combined efforts could ever create anything equal in power
and depth of thought to the three propositions offered Thee by the powerful
and all-wise spirit in the wilderness? Judging of them by their marvelous
aptness alone, one can at once perceive that they emanated not from a finite,
terrestrial intellect, but indeed, from the Eternal and the Absolute. In these
three offers we find, blended into one and foretold to us, the complete
subsequent history of man; we are shown three images, so to say, uniting in
them all the future axiomatic, insoluble problems and contradictions of
human nature, the world over. In those days, the wondrous wisdom
contained in them was not made so apparent as it is now, for futurity
remained still veiled; but now, when fifteen centuries have elapsed, we see
that everything in these three questions is so marvelously foreseen and
foretold, that to add to, or to take away from, the prophecy one jot, would
be absolutely impossible!

"'Decide then thyself.' sternly proceeded the Inquisitor, 'which of ye
twain was right: Thou who didst reject, or he who offered? Remember the
subtle meaning of question the first, which runs thus: Wouldst Thou go into
the world empty-handed? Would Thou venture thither with Thy vague and
undefined promise of freedom, which men, dull and unruly as they are by
nature, are unable so much as to understand, which they avoid and fear?—

for never was there anything more unbearable to the human race than
personal freedom! Dost Thou see these stones in the desolate and glaring
wilderness? Command that these stones be made bread—and mankind will
run after Thee, obedient and grateful like a herd of cattle. But even then it
will be ever diffident and trembling, lest Thou should take away Thy hand,
and they lose thereby their bread! Thou didst refuse to accept the offer for
fear of depriving men of their free choice; for where is there freedom of
choice where men are bribed with bread? Man shall not live by bread alone
—was Thine answer. Thou knewest not, it seems, that it was precisely in the
name of that earthly bread that the terrestrial spirit would one day rise
against, struggle with, and finally conquer Thee, followed by the hungry
multitudes shouting: "Who is like unto that Beast, who maketh fire come
down from heaven upon the earth!" Knowest Thou not that, but a few
centuries hence, and the whole of mankind will have proclaimed in its
wisdom and through its mouthpiece, Science, that there is no more crime,
hence no more sin on earth, but only hungry people? "Feed us first and then
command us to be virtuous!" will be the words written upon the banner
lifted against Thee—a banner which shall destroy Thy Church to its very
foundations, and in the place of Thy Temple shall raise once more the
terrible Tower of Babel; and though its building be left unfinished, as was
that of the first one, yet the fact will remain recorded that Thou couldst, but
wouldst not, prevent the attempt to build that new tower by accepting the
offer, and thus saving mankind a millennium of useless suffering on earth.
And it is to us that the people will return again. They will search for us
catacombs, as we shall once more be persecuted and martyred—and they
will begin crying unto us: "Feed us, for they who promised us the fire from
heaven have deceived us!" It is then that we will finish building their tower
for them. For they alone who feed them shall finish it, and we shall feed
them in Thy name, and lying to them that it is in that name. Oh, never,
never, will they learn to feed themselves without our help! No science will
ever give them bread so long as they remain free, so long as they refuse to
lay that freedom at our feet, and say: "Enslave, but feed us!" That day must
come when men will understand that freedom and daily bread enough to
satisfy all are unthinkable and can never be had together, as men will never
be able to fairly divide the two among themselves. And they will also learn
that they can never be free, for they are weak, vicious, miserable nonentities
born wicked and rebellious. Thou has promised to them the bread of life,

the bread of heaven; but I ask Thee again, can that bread ever equal in the
sight of the weak and the vicious, the ever ungrateful human race, their
daily bread on earth? And even supposing that thousands and tens of
thousands follow Thee in the name of, and for the sake of, Thy heavenly
bread, what will become of the millions and hundreds of millions of human
beings to weak to scorn the earthly for the sake of Thy heavenly bread? Or
is it but those tens of thousands chosen among the great and the mighty, that
are so dear to Thee, while the remaining millions, innumerable as the grains
of sand in the seas, the weak and the loving, have to be used as material for
the former? No, no! In our sight and for our purpose the weak and the lowly
are the more dear to us. True, they are vicious and rebellious, but we will
force them into obedience, and it is they who will admire us the most. They
will regard us as gods, and feel grateful to those who have consented to lead
the masses and bear their burden of freedom by ruling over them—so
terrible will that freedom at last appear to men! Then we will tell them that
it is in obedience to Thy will and in Thy name that we rule over them. We
will deceive them once more and lie to them once again—for never, never
more will we allow Thee to come among us. In this deception we will find
our suffering, for we must needs lie eternally, and never cease to lie!

"Such is the secret meaning of "temptation" the first, and that is what
Thou didst reject in the wilderness for the sake of that freedom which Thou
didst prize above all. Meanwhile Thy tempter's offer contained another
great world-mystery. By accepting the "bread," Thou wouldst have satisfied
and answered a universal craving, a ceaseless longing alive in the heart of
every individual human being, lurking in the breast of collective mankind,
that most perplexing problem—"whom or what shall we worship?" There
exists no greater or more painful anxiety for a man who has freed himself
from all religious bias, than how he shall soonest find a new object or idea
to worship. But man seeks to bow before that only which is recognized by
the greater majority, if not by all his fellow-men, as having a right to be
worshipped; whose rights are so unquestionable that men agree
unanimously to bow down to it. For the chief concern of these miserable
creatures is not to find and worship the idol of their own choice, but to
discover that which all others will believe in, and consent to bow down to in
a mass. It is that instinctive need of having a worship in common that is the
chief suffering of every man, the chief concern of mankind from the

beginning of times. It is for that universality of religious worship that
people destroyed each other by sword. Creating gods unto themselves, they
forwith began appealing to each other: "Abandon your deities, come and
bow down to ours, or death to ye and your idols!" And so will they do till
the end of this world; they will do so even then, when all the gods
themselves have disappeared, for then men will prostrate themselves before
and worship some idea. Thou didst know, Thou couldst not be ignorant of,
that mysterious fundamental principle in human nature, and still thou hast
rejected the only absolute banner offered Thee, to which all the nations
would remain true, and before which all would have bowed—the banner of
earthly bread, rejected in the name of freedom and of "bread in the kingdom
of God"! Behold, then, what Thou hast done furthermore for that
"freedom's" sake! I repeat to Thee, man has no greater anxiety in life than to
find some one to whom he can make over that gift of freedom with which
the unfortunate creature is born. But he alone will prove capable of
silencing and quieting their consciences, that shall succeed in possessing
himself of the freedom of men. With "daily bread" an irresistible power was
offered Thee: show a man "bread" and he will follow Thee, for what can he
resist less than the attraction of bread? But if, at the same time, another
succeed in possessing himself of his conscience—oh! then even Thy bread
will be forgotten, and man will follow him who seduced his conscience. So
far Thou wert right. For the mystery of human being does not solely rest in
the desire to live, but in the problem—for what should one live at all?
Without a clear perception of his reasons for living, man will never consent
to live, and will rather destroy himself than tarry on earth, though he be
surrounded with bread. This is the truth. But what has happened? Instead of
getting hold of man's freedom, Thou has enlarged it still more! Hast Thou
again forgotten that to man rest and even death are preferable to a free
choice between the knowledge of Good and Evil? Nothing seems more
seductive in his eyes than freedom of conscience, and nothing proves more
painful. And behold! instead of laying a firm foundation whereon to rest
once for all man's conscience, Thou hast chosen to stir up in him all that is
abnormal, mysterious, and indefinite, all that is beyond human strength, and
has acted as if Thou never hadst any love for him, and yet Thou wert He
who came to "lay down His life for His friends!" Thou hast burdened man's
soul with anxieties hitherto unknown to him. Thirsting for human love
freely given, seeking to enable man, seduced and charmed by Thee, to

follow Thy path of his own free-will, instead of the old and wise law which
held him in subjection, Thou hast given him the right henceforth to choose
and freely decide what is good and bad for him, guided but by Thine image
in his heart. But hast Thou never dreamt of the probability, nay, of the
certainty, of that same man one day rejected finally, and controverting even
Thine image and Thy truth, once he would find himself laden with such a
terrible burden as freedom of choice? That a time would surely come when
men would exclaim that Truth and Light cannot be in Thee, for no one
could have left them in a greater perplexity and mental suffering than Thou
has done, lading them with so many cares and insoluble problems. Thus, it
is Thyself who hast laid the foundation for the destruction of Thine own
kingdom and no one but Thou is to be blamed for it.

"'Meantime, every chance of success was offered Thee. There are three
Powers, three unique Forces upon earth, capable of conquering for ever by
charming the conscience of these weak rebels—men—for their own good;
and these Forces are: Miracle, Mystery and Authority. Thou hast rejected all
the three, and thus wert the first to set them an example. When the terrible
and all-wise spirit placed Thee on a pinnacle of the temple and said unto
Thee, "If Thou be the son of God, cast Thyself down, for it is written, He
shall give His angels charge concerning Thee: and in their hands they shall
bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou dash Thy foot against a stone!"—for
thus Thy faith in Thy father should have been made evident, Thou didst
refuse to accept his suggestion and didst not follow it. Oh, undoubtedly,
Thou didst act in this with all the magnificent pride of a god, but then men
—that weak and rebel race—are they also gods, to understand Thy refusal?
Of course, Thou didst well know that by taking one single step forward, by
making the slightest motion to throw Thyself down, Thou wouldst have
tempted "the Lord Thy God," lost suddenly all faith in Him, and dashed
Thyself to atoms against that same earth which Thou camest to save, and
thus wouldst have allowed the wise spirit which tempted Thee to triumph
and rejoice. But, then, how many such as Thee are to be found on this
globe, I ask Thee? Couldst Thou ever for a moment imagine that men
would have the same strength to resist such a temptation? Is human nature
calculated to reject miracle, and trust, during the most terrible moments in
life, when the most momentous, painful and perplexing problems struggle
within man's soul, to the free decisions of his heart for the true solution?

Oh, Thou knewest well that that action of Thine would remain recorded in
books for ages to come, reaching to the confines of the globe, and Thy hope
was, that following Thy example, man would remain true to his God,
without needing any miracle to keep his faith alive! But Thou knewest not,
it seems, that no sooner would man reject miracle than he would reject God
likewise, for he seeketh less God than "a sign" from Him. And thus, as it is
beyond the power of man to remain without miracles, so, rather than live
without, he will create for himself new wonders of his own making; and he
will bow to and worship the soothsayer's miracles, the old witch's sorcery,
were he a rebel, a heretic, and an atheist a hundred times over. Thy refusal
to come down from the cross when people, mocking and wagging their
heads were saying to Thee—"Save Thyself if Thou be the son of God, and
we will believe in Thee," was due to the same determination—not to
enslave man through miracle, but to obtain faith in Thee freely and apart
from any miraculous influence. Thou thirstest for free and uninfluenced
love, and refuses the passionate adoration of the slave before a Potency
which would have subjected his will once for ever. Thou judgest of men too
highly here, again, for though rebels they be, they are born slaves and
nothing more. Behold, and judge of them once more, now that fifteen
centuries have elapsed since that moment. Look at them, whom Thou didst
try to elevate unto Thee! I swear man is weaker and lower than Thou hast
ever imagined him to be! Can he ever do that which Thou art said to have
accomplished? By valuing him so highly Thou hast acted as if there were
no love for him in Thine heart, for Thou hast demanded of him more than
he could ever give—Thou, who lovest him more than Thyself! Hadst Thou
esteemed him less, less wouldst Thou have demanded of him, and that
would have been more like love, for his burden would have been made
thereby lighter. Man is weak and cowardly. What matters it, if he now riots
and rebels throughout the world against our will and power, and prides
himself upon that rebellion? It is but the petty pride and vanity of a school-
boy. It is the rioting of little children, getting up a mutiny in the class-room
and driving their schoolmaster out of it. But it will not last long, and when
the day of their triumph is over, they will have to pay dearly for it. They
will destroy the temples and raze them to the ground, flooding the earth
with blood. But the foolish children will have to learn some day that, rebels
though they be and riotous from nature, they are too weak to maintain the
spirit of mutiny for any length of time. Suffused with idiotic tears, they will

confess that He who created them rebellious undoubtedly did so but to
mock them. They will pronounce these words in despair, and such
blasphemous utterances will but add to their misery—for human nature
cannot endure blasphemy, and takes her own revenge in the end.

"'And thus, after all Thou has suffered for mankind and its freedom, the
present fate of men may be summed up in three words: Unrest, Confusion,
Misery! Thy great prophet John records in his vision, that he saw, during
the first resurrection of the chosen servants of God—"the number of them
which were sealed" in their foreheads, "twelve thousand" of every tribe. But
were they, indeed, as many? Then they must have been gods, not men. They
had shared Thy Cross for long years, suffered scores of years' hunger and
thirst in dreary wildernesses and deserts, feeding upon locusts and roots—
and of these children of free love for Thee, and self-sacrifice in Thy name,
Thou mayest well feel proud. But remember that these are but a few
thousands—of gods, not men; and how about all others? And why should
the weakest be held guilty for not being able to endure what the strongest
have endured? Why should a soul incapable of containing such terrible gifts
be punished for its weakness? Didst Thou really come to, and for, the
"elect" alone? If so, then the mystery will remain for ever mysterious to our
finite minds. And if a mystery, then were we right to proclaim it as one, and
preach it, teaching them that neither their freely given love to Thee nor
freedom of conscience were essential, but only that incomprehensible
mystery which they must blindly obey even against the dictates of their
conscience. Thus did we. We corrected and improved Thy teaching and
based it upon "Miracle, Mystery, and Authority." And men rejoiced at
finding themselves led once more like a herd of cattle, and at finding their
hearts at last delivered of the terrible burden laid upon them by Thee, which
caused them so much suffering. Tell me, were we right in doing as we did.
Did not we show our great love for humanity, by realizing in such a humble
spirit its helplessness, by so mercifully lightening its great burden, and by
permitting and remitting for its weak nature every sin, provided it be
committed with our authorization? For what, then, hast Thou come again to
trouble us in our work? And why lookest Thou at me so penetratingly with
Thy meek eyes, and in such a silence? Rather shouldst Thou feel wroth, for
I need not Thy love, I reject it, and love Thee not, myself. Why should I
conceal the truth from Thee? I know but too well with whom I am now

talking! What I had to say was known to Thee before, I read it in Thine eye.
How should I conceal from Thee our secret? If perchance Thou wouldst
hear it from my own lips, then listen: We are not with Thee, but with him,
and that is our secret! For centuries have we abandoned Thee to follow him,
yes—eight centuries. Eight hundred years now since we accepted from him
the gift rejected by Thee with indignation; that last gift which he offered
Thee from the high mountain when, showing all the kingdoms of the world
and the glory of them, he saith unto Thee: "All these things will I give Thee,
if Thou will fall down and worship me!" We took Rome from him and the
glaive of Caesar, and declared ourselves alone the kings of this earth, its
sole kings, though our work is not yet fully accomplished. But who is to
blame for it? Our work is but in its incipient stage, but it is nevertheless
started. We may have long to wait until its culmination, and mankind have
to suffer much, but we shall reach the goal some day, and become sole
Caesars, and then will be the time to think of universal happiness for men.

"'Thou couldst accept the glaive of Caesar Thyself; why didst Thou
reject the offer? By accepting from the powerful spirit his third offer Thou
would have realized every aspiration man seeketh for himself on earth; man
would have found a constant object for worship; one to deliver his
conscience up to, and one that should unite all together into one common
and harmonious ant-hill; for an innate necessity for universal union
constitutes the third and final affliction of mankind. Humanity as a whole
has ever aspired to unite itself universally. Many were, the great nations
with great histories, but the greater they were, the more unhappy they felt,
as they felt the stronger necessity of a universal union among men. Great
conquerors, like Timoor and Tchengis-Khan, passed like a cyclone upon the
face of the earth in their efforts to conquer the universe, but even they,
albeit unconsciously, expressed the same aspiration towards universal and
common union. In accepting the kingdom of the world and Caesar's purple,
one would found a universal kingdom and secure to mankind eternal peace.
And who can rule mankind better than those who have possessed
themselves of man's conscience, and hold in their hand man's daily bread?
Having accepted Caesar's glaive and purple, we had, of course, but to deny
Thee, to henceforth follow him alone. Oh, centuries of intellectual riot and
rebellious free thought are yet before us, and their science will end by
anthropophagy, for having begun to build their Babylonian tower without

our help they will have to end by anthropophagy. But it is precisely at that
time that the Beast will crawl up to us in full submission, and lick the soles
of our feet, and sprinkle them with tears of blood and we shall sit upon the
scarlet-colored Beast, and lifting up high the golden cup "full of
abomination and filthiness," shall show written upon it the word "Mystery"!
But it is only then that men will see the beginning of a kingdom of peace
and happiness. Thou art proud of Thine own elect, but Thou has none other
but these elect, and we—we will give rest to all. But that is not the end.
Many are those among thine elect and the laborers of Thy vineyard, who,
tired of waiting for Thy coming, already have carried and will yet carry, the
great fervor of their hearts and their spiritual strength into another field, and
will end by lifting up against Thee Thine own banner of freedom. But it is
Thyself Thou hast to thank. Under our rule and sway all will be happy, and
will neither rebel nor destroy each other as they did while under Thy free
banner. Oh, we will take good care to prove to them that they will become
absolutely free only when they have abjured their freedom in our favor and
submit to us absolutely. Thinkest Thou we shall be right or still lying? They
will convince themselves of our rightness, for they will see what a depth of
degrading slavery and strife that liberty of Thine has led them into. Liberty,
Freedom of Thought and Conscience, and Science will lead them into such
impassable chasms, place them face to face before such wonders and
insoluble mysteries, that some of them—more rebellious and ferocious than
the rest—will destroy themselves; others—rebellious but weak—will
destroy each other; while the remainder, weak, helpless and miserable, will
crawl back to our feet and cry: "'Yes; right were ye, oh Fathers of Jesus; ye
alone are in possession of His mystery, and we return to you, praying that
ye save us from ourselves!" Receiving their bread from us, they will clearly
see that we take the bread from them, the bread made by their own hands,
but to give it back to them in equal shares and that without any miracle; and
having ascertained that, though we have not changed stones into bread, yet
bread they have, while every other bread turned verily in their own hands
into stones, they will be only to glad to have it so. Until that day, they will
never be happy. And who is it that helped the most to blind them, tell me?
Who separated the flock and scattered it over ways unknown if it be not
Thee? But we will gather the sheep once more and subject them to our will
for ever. We will prove to them their own weakness and make them humble
again, whilst with Thee they have learnt but pride, for Thou hast made more

of them than they ever were worth. We will give them that quiet, humble
happiness, which alone benefits such weak, foolish creatures as they are,
and having once had proved to them their weakness, they will become timid
and obedient, and gather around us as chickens around their hen. They will
wonder at and feel a superstitious admiration for us, and feel proud to be led
by men so powerful and wise that a handful of them can subject a flock a
thousand millions strong. Gradually men will begin to fear us. They will
nervously dread our slightest anger, their intellects will weaken, their eyes
become as easily accessible to tears as those of children and women; but we
will teach them an easy transition from grief and tears to laughter, childish
joy and mirthful song. Yes; we will make them work like slaves, but during
their recreation hours they shall have an innocent child-like life, full of play
and merry laughter. We will even permit them sin, for, weak and helpless,
they will feel the more love for us for permitting them to indulge in it. We
will tell them that every kind of sin will be remitted to them, so long as it is
done with our permission; that we take all these sins upon ourselves, for we
so love the world, that we are even willing to sacrifice our souls for its
satisfaction. And, appearing before them in the light of their scapegoats and
redeemers, we shall be adored the more for it. They will have no secrets
from us. It will rest with us to permit them to live with their wives and
concubines, or to forbid them, to have children or remain childless, either
way depending on the degree of their obedience to us; and they will submit
most joyfully to us the most agonizing secrets of their souls—all, all will
they lay down at our feet, and we will authorize and remit them all in Thy
name, and they will believe us and accept our mediation with rapture, as it
will deliver them from their greatest anxiety and torture—that of having to
decide freely for themselves. And all will be happy, all except the one or
two hundred thousands of their rulers. For it is but we, we the keepers of the
great Mystery who will be miserable. There will be thousands of millions of
happy infants, and one hundred thousand martyrs who have taken upon
themselves the curse of knowledge of good and evil. Peaceable will be their
end, and peacefully will they die, in Thy name, to find behind the portals of
the grave—but death. But we will keep the secret inviolate, and deceive
them for their own good with the mirage of life eternal in Thy kingdom.
For, were there really anything like life beyond the grave, surely it would
never fall to the lot of such as they! People tell us and prophesy of Thy
coming and triumphing once more on earth; of Thy appearing with the army

of Thy elect, with Thy proud and mighty ones; but we will answer Thee that
they have saved but themselves while we have saved all. We are also
threatened with the great disgrace which awaits the whore, "Babylon the
great, the mother of harlots"—who sits upon the Beast, holding in her hands
the Mystery, the word written upon her forehead; and we are told that the
weak ones, the lambs shall rebel against her and shall make her desolate
and naked. But then will I arise, and point out to Thee the thousands of
millions of happy infants free from any sin. And we who have taken their
sins upon us, for their own good, shall stand before Thee and say: "Judge us
if Thou canst and darest!" Know then that I fear Thee not. Know that I too
have lived in the dreary wilderness, where I fed upon locusts and roots, that
I too have blessed freedom with which thou hast blessed men, and that I too
have once prepared to join the ranks of Thy elect, the proud and the mighty.
But I awoke from my delusion and refused since then to serve insanity. I
returned to join the legion of those who corrected Thy mistakes. I left the
proud and returned to the really humble, and for their own happiness. What
I now tell thee will come to pass, and our kingdom shall be built, I tell Thee
not later than to-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock which at one
simple motion of my hand will rush to add burning coals to Thy stake, on
which I will burn Thee for having dared to come and trouble us in our work.
For, if there ever was one who deserved more than any of the others our
inquisitorial fires—it is Thee! To-morrow I will burn Thee. Dixi'."

Ivan paused. He had entered into the situation and had spoken with great
animation, but now he suddenly burst out laughing.

"But all that is absurd!" suddenly exclaimed Alyosha, who had hitherto
listened perplexed and agitated but in profound silence. "Your poem is a
glorification of Christ, not an accusation, as you, perhaps, meant to be. And
who will believe you when you speak of 'freedom'? Is it thus that we
Christians must understand it? It is Rome (not all Rome, for that would be
unjust), but the worst of the Roman Catholics, the Inquisitors and Jesuits,
that you have been exposing! Your Inquisitor is an impossible character.
What are these sins they are taking upon themselves? Who are those
keepers of mystery who took upon themselves a curse for the good of
mankind? Who ever met them? We all know the Jesuits, and no one has a
good word to say in their favor; but when were they as you depict them?

Never, never! The Jesuits are merely a Romish army making ready for their
future temporal kingdom, with a mitred emperor—a Roman high priest at
their head. That is their ideal and object, without any mystery or elevated
suffering. The most prosaic thirsting for power, for the sake of the mean and
earthly pleasures of life, a desire to enslave their fellow-men, something
like our late system of serfs, with themselves at the head as landed
proprietors—that is all that they can be accused of. They may not believe in
God, that is also possible, but your suffering Inquisitor is simply—a fancy!"

"Hold, hold!" interrupted Ivan, smiling. "Do not be so excited. A fancy,
you say; be it so! Of course, it is a fancy. But stop. Do you really imagine
that all this Catholic movement during the last centuries is naught but a
desire for power for the mere purpose of 'mean pleasures'? Is this what your
Father Paissiy taught you?"

"No, no, quite the reverse, for Father Paissiy once told me something
very similar to what you yourself say, though, of course, not that—
something quite different," suddenly added Alexis, blushing.

"A precious piece of information, notwithstanding your 'not that.' I ask
you, why should the Inquisitors and the Jesuits of your imagination live but
for the attainment of 'mean material pleasures?' Why should there not be
found among them one single genuine martyr suffering under a great and
holy idea and loving humanity with all his heart? Now let us suppose that
among all these Jesuits thirsting and hungering but after 'mean material
pleasures' there may be one, just one like my old Inquisitor, who had
himself fed upon roots in the wilderness, suffered the tortures of damnation
while trying to conquer flesh, in order to become free and perfect, but who
had never ceased to love humanity, and who one day prophetically beheld
the truth; who saw as plain as he could see that the bulk of humanity could
never be happy under the old system, that it was not for them that the great
Idealist had come and died and dreamt of His Universal Harmony. Having
realized that truth, he returned into the world and joined—intelligent and
practical people. Is this so impossible?"

"Joined whom? What intelligent and practical people?" exclaimed
Alyosha quite excited. "Why should they be more intelligent than other
men, and what secrets and mysteries can they have? They have neither.

Atheism and infidelity is all the secret they have. Your Inquisitor does not
believe in God, and that is all the Mystery there is in it!"

"It may be so. You have guessed rightly there. And it is so, and that is his
whole secret; but is this not the acutest sufferings for such a man as he, who
killed all his young life in asceticism in the desert, and yet could not cure
himself of his love towards his fellowmen? Toward the end of his life he
becomes convinced that it is only by following the advice of the great and
terrible spirit that the fate of these millions of weak rebels, these 'half-
finished samples of humanity created in mockery' can be made tolerable.
And once convinced of it, he sees as clearly that to achieve that object, one
must follow blindly the guidance of the wise spirit, the fearful spirit of
death and destruction, hence accept a system of lies and deception and lead
humanity consciously this time toward death and destruction, and
moreover, be deceiving them all the while in order to prevent them from
realizing where they are being led, and so force the miserable blind men to
feel happy, at least while here on earth. And note this: a wholesale
deception in the name of Him, in whose ideal the old man had so
passionately, so fervently, believed during nearly his whole life! Is this no
suffering? And were such a solitary exception found amidst, and at the head
of, that army 'that thirsts for power but for the sake of the mean pleasures of
life,' think you one such man would not suffice to bring on a tragedy?
Moreover, one single man like my Inquisitor as a principal leader, would
prove sufficient to discover the real guiding idea of the Romish system with
all its armies of Jesuits, the greatest and chiefest conviction that the solitary
type described in my poem has at no time ever disappeared from among the
chief leaders of that movement. Who knows but that terrible old man,
loving humanity so stubbornly and in such an original way, exists even in
our days in the shape of a whole host of such solitary exceptions, whose
existence is not due to mere chance, but to a well-defined association born
of mutual consent, to a secret league, organized several centuries back, in
order to guard the Mystery from the indiscreet eyes of the miserable and
weak people, and only in view of their own happiness? And so it is; it
cannot be otherwise. I suspect that even Masons have some such Mystery
underlying the basis of their organization, and that it is just the reason why
the Roman Catholic clergy hate them so, dreading to find in them rivals,
competition, the dismemberment of the unity of the idea, for the realization

of which one flock and one Shepherd are needed. However, in defending
my idea, I look like an author whose production is unable to stand criticism.
Enough of this."

"You are, perhaps, a Mason yourself!" exclaimed Alyosha. "You do not
believe in God," he added, with a note of profound sadness in his voice. But
suddenly remarking that his brother was looking at him with mockery,
"How do you mean then to bring your poem to a close?" he unexpectedly
enquired, casting his eyes downward, "or does it break off here?"

"My intention is to end it with the following scene: Having disburdened
his heart, the Inquisitor waits for some time to hear his prisoner speak in
His turn. His silence weighs upon him. He has seen that his captive has
been attentively listening to him all the time, with His eyes fixed
penetratingly and softly on the face of his jailer, and evidently bent upon
not replying to him. The old man longs to hear His voice, to hear Him
reply; better words of bitterness and scorn than His silence. Suddenly He
rises; slowly and silently approaching the Inquisitor, He bends towards him
and softly kisses the bloodless, four-score and-ten-year-old lips. That is all
the answer. The Grand Inquisitor shudders. There is a convulsive twitch at
the corner of his mouth. He goes to the door, opens it, and addressing Him,
'Go,' he says, 'go, and return no more... do not come again... never, never!'
and—lets Him out into the dark night. The prisoner vanishes."

"And the old man?"

"The kiss burns his heart, but the old man remains firm in his own ideas
and unbelief."

"And you, together with him? You too!" despairingly exclaimed
Alyosha, while Ivan burst into a still louder fit of laughter.

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