the rich were of this opportunity of decently getting rid of their money,
that extraneous sin which they cherish in their hearts. "Take three
hundred--five hundred rubles, if you like," they said to me, "but I
cannot go into those dens myself." There was no lack of money. Remember
Zaccheus, the chief of the Publicans in the Gospel. Remember how he,
because he was small of stature, climbed into a tree to see Christ, and
how when Christ announced that he was going to his house, having
understood but one thing, that the Master did not approve of riches, he
leaped headlong from the tree, ran home and arranged his feast. And how,
as soon as Christ entered, Zaccheus instantly declared that he gave the
half of his goods to the poor, and if he had wronged any man, to him he
would restore fourfold. And remember how all of us, when we read the
Gospel, set but little store on this Zaccheus, and involuntarily look
with scorn on this half of his goods, and fourfold restitution. And our
feeling is correct. Zaccheus, according to his lights, performed a great
deed. He had not even begun to do good. He had only begun in some small
measure to purify himself from evil, and so Christ told him.

He merely said to him: "To-day is salvation come nigh unto this house."

What if the Moscow Zaccheuses were to do the same that he did? Assuredly,
more than one milliard could be collected. Well, and what of that?
Nothing. There would be still greater sin if we were to think of
distributing this money among the poor. Money is not needed. What is
needed is self-sacrificing action; what is needed are people who would
like to do good, not by giving extraneous sin-money, but by giving their
own labor, themselves, their lives. Where are such people to be found?
Here they are, walking about Moscow. They are the student enumerators. I
have seen how they write out their charts. The student writes in the
night lodging-house, by the bedside of a sick man. "What is your
disease?"--"Small-pox." And the student does not make a wry face, but
proceeds with his writing. And this he does for the sake of some
doubtful science. What would he do if he were doing it for the sake of
his own undoubted good and the good of others?

When children, in merry mood, feel a desire to laugh, they never think of
devising some reason for laughter, but they laugh without any reason,
because they are gay; and thus these charming youths sacrifice
themselves.