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Hortus Inclusus, a non-fiction book by John Ruskin

Chapter 11

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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Stranger Merchant commences his Story--The Molokani--Origin of their Faith--Progress among the Villagers--How the Bible was prized by them--Its Distribution--Captain Martineff--His Endurance of Persecution--Sad History--His Christian Fortitude--General Persecution of the Sect--Flight--Transported to a New District--Attempt to convert Captain Martineff.


The hissing _samovar_ was on the table, and the fragrant _tchai_ had just been made, when the waiter with the high boots and pink shirt entered to say that a merchant had called with some goods for the travellers to inspect. Cousin Giles desired that the man might be admitted, and in a minute a person in a long dark coat, with a case slung before him, entered the room. He at once began to display some caps and belts of gold and silk embroidery, several articles of silver, spoons ornamented with black-lined engraving, little hand-bells, snuff-- boxes, slippers of leather richly worked, and many similar articles, such as English travellers in Russia are accustomed to purchase. The prices he named were very moderate. While he was displaying his merchandise, Cousin Giles was observing him narrowly.

"Why, he is our friend the mujick," he whispered to Mr Allwick. "The man can masquerade well."

The waiter had now left the room. The merchant went to the door and looked out. He then came back to the table on which he had spread out his merchandise, and addressed Mr Allwick in a low, earnest voice. The latter now grew very much interested, apparently, with what he heard. The stranger perceived that his cause was making progress, and continued his story with increased earnestness. At length he stopped to allow Mr Allwick to translate to his friends what had been said. Cousin Giles looked inquiringly at him for an explanation.

"I will translate, as nearly as I can, what he has told me," said Mr Allwick.

"I am, you must know, sirs," said he, "one of that class of dissenters from the Established Greek Church whom our countrymen designate as _molokani_ or milk-drinkers. You have not heard of them, perhaps. I will tell you about them. Many years ago the unadulterated word of God--the Holy Bible, translated into our native language--was brought into Russia without note or comment. Some copies of it reached my native province, and were received most gladly by many of our peasants. Those who could afford it eagerly bought the book of glad tidings; those who could not clubbed their money together and became the joyful purchasers of a copy. How the book came, no one could tell. Some said that a stranger from another land brought many volumes of the book with him in a large chest, and that he travelled about from village to village, instructing certain men in each village, and making them desire to possess the book. Though such might have been the case, I never saw the stranger. All I know is, that a certain very pious man in our village had several copies of the book which he had bought at a great cost, though not too great for its value, oh no! And that he sold them without profit to all who would buy--rather, I would say, at a loss, for to some who could not pay the full cost he remitted part of the amount. When we got the book we lost no time in reading it. In the fields in summer, under the shade of trees, we sat and read it, where no one could watch us; in our huts, by torch-light in winter, we eagerly studied the book. We knew that we had got the word of God, that we possessed a jewel of rich price; we were afraid that thieves might come and steal it from us. We read and read on; most eagerly we met together to talk about it, to discuss the meaning of parts which we could not at first understand, to pray that our minds might be enlightened to comprehend it. We read it, as the book itself tells us to do, with earnest prayer; we read it with faith, and we read it not in vain. Soon passages which seemed at first obscure were made clear to our comprehension. Every day we understood it better and better. We had no one to whom to go for information. We had no one to instruct us, so we went to God; we asked Him to show us the truth, as He in the book told us to do, and His promises never fail. He instructed our minds; He gave us all we asked for. We now discovered, truly, how darkened had been our minds, how ignorant we had been, what follies, what fables, what falsehoods we had believed. We saw the gross, the terrible, the wicked errors of the Church of our country. We found that those who should have instructed us were generally as ignorant as we had been, and that if not ignorant, they had taught us falsehoods, knowing them to be falsehoods. We found in that book how the world was made; how man was first placed in the world; how he, by disobedience to God's simple command, fell from his happy state, and how sin thus entered into the world, and all men became by nature sinful; how God in His mercy promised a Redeemer who should bear upon His own shoulders the sin of all the children of Adam who believe in Him; how God selected a people to keep His great name, and to make it known among men; how He promised to the patriarchs of old, from age to age, that the Redeemer of the world should be one of their chosen tribe, and that the glad tidings of salvation should first be offered to them; how, in process of time, the Son of God, the Saviour of the world, from His unbounded love to the human race, appeared in the form of a man, and in humble rank, to teach us that He regards not the persons of men; how He was despised and rejected of men; how He suffered toil, and sorrow, and persecution, though He spent His days on earth in doing good to all around Him, to show the humble, and poor, and afflicted that He can feel for them; how He was rejected by God's chosen people; how they crucified Him, and invoked a curse on their own heads by taking on themselves all the terrible guilt of the deed; how He died and was buried; how thus He offered Himself a sacrifice for our sins; how He remained for three days in the vale of departed spirits; how in His own body He rose again to teach men the doctrine of the resurrection; how, having fulfilled all the work of the sacrifice, He ascended into heaven, and how He there acts as a mediator between God and man; how, too, in His abundant mercy, He sent down the Holy Ghost to lead men aright, to teach them the truth. That book tells us nothing of the Virgin Mary, except that she was the earthly mother of our Lord. It tells us nothing of the mediation of saints, but it tells us that God accepts but one great sacrifice, that offered by our Lord Jesus Christ; that He is our only Priest, our only Mediator in heaven; that those who heartily repent of their sins, who put their faith in Him, and Him alone, will be saved.

"We find nothing said in the Bible of a Patriarch, or any other head of the Church on earth. The only Patriarch, therefore, we can acknowledge, the only Head of our Church, is Christ in heaven. Yet the Bible has taught us to bow to the authority of earthly powers in all temporal matters, but in spiritual matters to yield to the authority of no one unless it is plainly and undoubtedly in accordance with the word of God revealed in that book. Putting aside all the customs of the country, which seemed to us so overloaded with error and abuse that we could not distinguish the right from the wrong, we have endeavoured to form a system of worship and mutual instruction as nearly similar as possible to that instituted by our Lord Himself and His disciples. We knew that we could not preach our doctrines in public without bringing down on our heads a severe punishment from the authorities of the Empire; but they, nevertheless, made certain though slow progress. No sooner did one receive the truth than he became anxious to impart it to others. All this time, who, think you, had joined our faith?--none but serfs, peasants, humble mujicks. But this did not cast us down, for we asked ourselves. Who were the first disciples of our Lord?--fishermen, humble men like ourselves. Because our faith was different to that of the great and mighty in the land, it did not make us less certain that it was the true one, or less anxious to impart it to others, to offer our brethren the same assurance of pardon and salvation which we had ourselves received. Hitherto the progress of our creed had received no interruption from the Government authorities. We had worked silently and quietly; even the priests knew nothing of the movement going on. We were well assured that, should they discover it, they would oppose us with all their power. We were, therefore, allowed to continue on without persecution. By degrees, however, our doctrines began to make progress among persons of a higher grade. An earnest, piously-minded land-steward had a Bible lent him by a peasant; he expressed his satisfaction at reading it, and was at last invited to attend one of our meetings. He came, and his heart was turned to the right way. For many months he worshipped with us, and at length the owner of the estate he managed came to live on his property. He was an officer in the army, who had seen much service in the Caucasus fighting against the Circassians. He had the character of being a brave and a stern man in the army. His serfs always found him a kind though a strict master--not indulgent, but just. To his master the steward was induced, after some time, to open the secret of his heart, and he at length persuaded him to study the Bible. The master read and read on. He became convinced of the errors of the Greek Church, and joined our fraternity. Truly as a brother, humble and lowly in his own sight, he moved among us.

"The truth had now spread widely; many thousands believed and worshipped with us, and we began to hope that the pure doctrines of Christianity might extend over the face of our beloved country. Alas! We deceived ourselves. We forgot that times of persecution, trial, and suffering must ever be looked for by God's saints on earth.

"At length, as was to be expected, some of the Government officials got notice of our meetings. One night a congregation of us were assembled for prayer and instruction in the word in a rude hut constructed by us far away in the depths of a forest,--the only temple we dared raise to our God,--when we were startled by hearing the trampling of steeds and the crashing of boughs. Before we could rise from our knees, a party of police, headed by a priest and two of the neighbouring landowners, rushed in upon us. Some attempted to fly, others stood boldly up to confront our persecutors; but neither would it have been right or wise, or of any avail, to have used carnal weapons for our defence. Those who thus stood firm felt bolder than they had ever done before. We demanded why we were thus assailed and interrupted in our private devotions. We asserted our right to meet for prayer to God and to our Lord, and demanded that we might be left to finish our devotions undisturbed. In return we were jeered and ridiculed, and roughly ordered to marshal ourselves and hurry on before our captors. They told us that we should be tried before a proper tribunal; that there could be no doubt we had met together for political and treasonable purposes; that also we were schismatics and heretics, and that we had merited the severest punishment. We had no help for it, so, praying to God for help and support in this our first hour of peril, we did as we were ordered. How we had been discovered we could not learn. We feared that some one among our own body had proved false, but we trusted that such was not the case. Our meetings had probably attracted the attention of some priest more acute than his brethren, and he had subtly made inquiries till he had discovered the truth. It was a sad procession as we marched forth from our woodland temple, but yet we were not cast down; we trusted in God that He would deliver us. He did not even then forget us. We had marched a verst or more when thick clouds began to gather in the sky, and loud rumblings were heard. Soon the tempest burst over the forest, louder and louder grew the thunder, flash upon flash of lightning darted from the heavens; first heavy drops, and then torrents of rain came down upon our heads; the trees bent, trunks were riven by the lightning, boughs were torn from the stems and dashed across our path. The steeds of our captors began to snort and rear and show every sign of terror. Crash succeeded crash--more vivid grew the lightning; it played round the tall stems of the trees, it ran hissing like serpents of fire along the ground, it almost blinded us by its brightness. At last the horses could no longer stand it; their riders, too, were alarmed. Some of the horses wheeled one way, some another, and all set off galloping furiously through the wood in different directions. In vain the priest and the lords called to us to keep together, and to meet them at the town; in vain their servants and their other attendants endeavoured to keep us together. Feeling that the tempest was sent for our deliverance, with a prayer for each other's safety we likewise dispersed in all directions, to seek places of shelter and concealment from our enemies. The large forests, the thin population, the rocks and caves of that region afforded us abundance of facilities for this object. Many of us reached such places of safety as I have described and the freemen were able to remain concealed, but the serfs were hunted up like wild beasts and brought back to their owners. Many were put to the torture, to make them betray those who had assumed what was called the new faith. Day after day some of our members were seized. The freemen were cast into prison and put to the torture, to compel them to deny their faith or to accuse others of following it. Our beloved brother, Captain Martineff, had hitherto escaped, but now he was accused of professing the new doctrines. He was seized and brought up before the officers of a commission appointed to try all such delinquents. He, who had ever proved a faithful soldier to his generals and the Emperor, was not now to be found false to his faith and his heavenly Lord and Master. He at once boldly confessed that he had taken the Bible as his rule and guide, that by that he would stand or fall; and he demanded that he might have the right of explaining and defending his doctrines in public court. This liberty was scornfully denied him. He was condemned for being guilty of desiring to subvert the Government and religion of the country, and thrown into prison. He would at once have been transported to Siberia, but the Government hoped by keeping him to discover others who held the same tenets. They little knew how far the true faith had spread, that thousands already held it, and that no power of theirs could extinguish the light thus kindled. They dreamed not also of the fortitude and courage of which a true Christian is capable. Captain Martineff would neither betray others nor deny his own faith. It was determined to break his proud spirit, as it was called, and now commenced a system of the most cruel persecution against him. His property was confiscated, his wife and children were seized and cast into dungeons separate from each other. They were fed on black bread and water. One by one they were brought to him and cruelly flogged before his eyes. He saw them growing thinner and thinner every day, the colour fading from their cheeks, the hue of sickness taking its place. He knew they were sinking into the grave--murdered by his persecutors. Still he would not deny his faith or perform ceremonies which he knew to be superstitious and idolatrous. With a refinement of cruelty worthy of demons, they told him that one child was dead. 'It is well,' he replied; 'of such is the kingdom of heaven.' A second died, a bright little cherub; it had been the joy of his life. 'God be praised! He is in Abraham's bosom,' he answered. Soon a third sank under his treatment. 'You have released him from prison to praise God with the angels in heaven!' he remarked.

"His wife, a believer with him, mild, pious, and good, became a victim to their barbarity. They told him abruptly, to shock his feelings the more. A serene smile illuminated his countenance, 'She has entered into her rest, where neither grief, nor pain, nor sickness can come. She is with the spirits of the just made perfect.'

"Still he had more children. It was known how he had loved them. One after the other died, till one alone remained. They brought it to him. They told him that if he would conform to the rules of the Established Church he should be released from prison, his property should be restored, and that this child--this darling child--should be sent to a place where fresh, pure air and the care of a good physician would quickly restore it to health. 'Life and death are in the hands of the Almighty; to Him I commit the life of my child. I have but in faith humbly to obey His laws, and to follow the course He has marked out for me.'

"One, two, three, four years passed away, and he and his child remained in prison. The little boy grew thin and pale, and pined and pined away. They took him occasionally to be seen by his father--not to bring any joy to that father's heart, but to tempt his constancy. The attempt availed them not. The child died; the father shed not a tear, uttered not a complaint, but remained firm as ever to the faith. Another year he was kept in prison, and then stripped of his property. He was dismissed from prison, and a certain locality fixed for his abode. Why he was not sent to Siberia was not known. It was the will of the Emperor, it was supposed, who had heard his story.

"While I have been narrating Captain Martineff's history, I have neglected to speak of the condition of the poorer brethren. Numbers were seized, knouted, and sent off to labour in the mines of Siberia. They little thought that by that means they were taking the surest way of propagating the truth. Others were thrown into prison, and subjected daily to cruel tortures to force them to recant.

"A few unhappy men were overcome by the pains and terror, and returned to the Greek faith, but the greater number held firm. I remained in concealment, and it was supposed that I had died; but I had relatives and friends who were wealthy for our rank of life, and gave me support. All my family were free, yet in position we were not much above the poor mujick. I used after a time to venture out of my hiding-place and meet our brethren for prayer and praise; but it was at great hazard, and oftentimes I had a narrow escape of being captured. At length, after we had suffered years of persecution, a time of rest was awarded us, and we fancied that we were to be allowed to worship our God as we judged best. Still I dared not be seen in public, for I had refused to appear when summoned, and I was looked upon as a political as well as a religious offender.

"The mercy we were promised was but little mercy to us. We were to be removed from the land of our birth, from our once happy homes, and to be settled down, many hundred versts away, in a district between some German colonies and Tartary. It was believed that our tenets would not spread among the people by whom we were surrounded. Many hundreds of families were thus turned out of their homes and compelled to settle in this new region. The choice was given them of renouncing their faith or going. Few hesitated. I at length came forth from my hiding-place and joined my companions. We set to work assiduously to bring under cultivation the wild country in which we were placed, and God prospered our labours.

"Among the few of higher rank who belonged to us, Captain Martineff was sent here. Sickness and long confinement had turned his hair prematurely grey, and he looked an old man. He built himself a small hut with a single chamber in it, and here he took up his abode, while he used to labour with his own hands for his sustenance. His fellow-villagers were all poor enough, but we all sought to assist him and to take him food--without it, I believe at times that he would have starved. He received our gifts thankfully, but never would take them unless when he was absolutely in want of food. He had been much respected when he was in the army, and the Emperor himself desired much to bring him back to the world. More than one priest had come to effect this object. At length the Emperor sent a general who was celebrated for his great powers of argument. He arrived at our village in great state, but set out alone on foot to pay his visit. The humble captain had been apprised of his coming; he sat at his little round table, made by his own hands, with his only spare seat placed ready for his guest. His Bible lay open before him. The General struck his head against the doorway as he entered. 'We have need of humility when we approach the word of God,' observed his host with a gentle smile.

"The General spoke kindly and affectionately to the old man. They had been comrades, brothers-in-arms together. For months they had slept in the same tent, and eaten out of the same dish. For a short time they conversed of old times.

"'But you came to talk to me of matters of more importance, my General,' said the Captain, laying his hand on the Bible. 'Out of this book I will reply to you. Of my own words I need speak none.'

"The General then commenced a series of arguments, which he had thought incontrovertible. As each was brought forward, the Captain turned to his Bible, and produced a text, which with its context clearly refuted it. Text after text was brought forward. At first the General had been very confident of success; by degrees his confidence decreased, but the Captain retained the same composure as at the first.

"'You have a great knowledge of the book, my friend,' said the General.

"'I should have,' answered the Captain humbly; 'I study no other; for where can another of equal value be found? This shows us the way of eternal life.'

"'Ah, you speak the truth, my old comrade,' exclaimed the General, rising. 'I came certain of succeeding to convert you to my way of belief, but I own that you have conquered. You have converted me to yours.'

"These were the General's last words. He rose to take his departure. He grasped his old comrade's hand, and went out. Alas! Alas! His reason was convinced, but his heart was unchanged. His own words had condemned him. He went back to the world to laste of its allurements and false pleasure, its titles, its wealth, its evanescent honours. He undoubtedly reported favourably of his friend, and obtained for him immunity from further persecution; but for himself he sought not the Lord where alone He can be found. He continued his old habits of life, seeking the praise of men rather than the praise of God." _

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