me,
why do you live? Why do you accumulate money? Aren't you going to die?
Well, what then?" And Mayakin finds himself speechless and without
answer, but unshaken and unconvinced.

Receiving by heredity the fierce, bull-like nature of his father plus the
passive indomitableness and groping spirit of his mother, Foma, proud and
rebellious, is repelled by the selfish, money-seeking environment into
which he is born. Ignat, his father, and Mayakin, the godfather, and all
the horde of successful merchants singing the paean of the strong and the
praises of merciless, remorseless _laissez faire_, cannot entice him.
Why? he demands. This is a nightmare, this life! It is without
significance! What does it all mean? What is there underneath? What is
the meaning of that which is underneath?

"You do well to pity people," Ignat tells Foma, the boy, "only you must
use judgment with your pity. First consider the man, find out what he is
like, what use can be made of him; and if you see that he is a strong and
capable man, help him if you like. But if a man is weak, not inclined to
work--spit upon him and go your way. And you must know that when a man
complains about everything, and cries out and groans--he is not worth
more than two kopeks, he is not worthy of pity, and will be of no use to
you if you do help him."

Such the frank and militant commercialism, bellowed out between glasses
of strong liquor. Now comes Mayakin, speaking softly and without satire:

"Eh, my boy, what is a beggar? A beggar is a man who is forced, by fate,
to remind us of Christ; he is Christ's brother; he is the bell of the
Lord, and rings in life for the purpose of awakening our conscience, of
stirring up the satiety of man's flesh. He stands under the window and
sings, 'For Christ's sa-ake!' and by that chant he reminds us of Christ,
of His holy command to help our neighbour. But men have so ordered their
lives that it is utterly impossible for them to act in accordance with
Christ's teaching, and Jesus Christ has become entirely superfluous to
us. Not once, but, in all probability, a thousand times, we have given
Him over to be crucified, but still we cannot banish Him from our lives
so long as His poor brethren sing His name in the streets and remind us
of Him. And so now we have hit upon the idea of shutting up the beggars
in such special buildings, so that they may not roam about the streets
and stir up our consciences."

But F