Blavatsky
Translates a Tale by Tolstoy,
On the Moral Effects
of Whiskey and Wines
Leo Tolstoy
Helena Blavatsky and Leo Tolstoy
A 2012 Editorial Note:
The following
story was translated from the Russian by Helena P. Blavatsky and first
published by her in “Lucifer”
magazine, London, November, 1889 edition, pp. 195-98. Its general title was “Russian Popular Tracts - Selections from
Count L. N. Tolstoy’s Tales”. The story itself was entitled “How a Devil’s Imp Redeemed his Loaf; or the
First Distiller”.
“Lucifer”
(literally, “light-bringer”) is the ancient name for the sacred planet Venus, the “elder sister” of our planet
Earth and the “star of the morning”. The
meaning of the word has been distorted by medieval theologians so as to be a
synonym to another theological fiction made popular by them, “the devil”. Tolstoy’s story uses this same popular idea
of personalized devils to symbolize those lower energies in human psyche which
create tests and obstacles to human evolution.
The tale does more than reveal the moral effects of
alcoholic beverages. It couldn’t be more updated, today. While alcoholism is still a problem in almost
every country, the reality shown by Tolstoy essentially includes all sorts of 21st
century drugs and chemical substances which violate or destroy the natural process
of self-determination in the human consciousness. The
concluding paragraphs share an all-encompassing axiom of the art of living and
a key principle for the ethics and the economics of sustainable development: voluntary
simplicity, or desirelessness with regard to that which is not necessary.
Thus, in speaking to his “boss”, the assistant-devil acknowledges:
“The wild beast’s blood is ever present in man, but it
remains latent and finds no issue so long as he has no more bread then he needs
for his food”.
(Carlos Cardoso Aveline)
A 1889 Note By H.P. Blavatsky:
Since the West
has shown such due appreciation of the writings of the greatest novelist and
mystic of Russia of today, his best works have all been translated. The
Russian, however, recognizes in none of these translations that popular
national spirit which pervades the original tales and stories.
Pregnant as these are with popular mysticism and the
spirit of theosophical altruism, some of them are charming but most difficult
to render into a foreign language. Yet, one may try. One thing is certain: no
foreign translator, however able, unless born and bred in Russia and acquainted
with Russian peasant life, will be
able to do them justice, or even to convey to the reader their full meaning,
owing to their absolutely national idiomatic language. If the genius of the
Russian literary language is so sui
generis as to be most difficult to render in translation, the Russian of
the lower classes - the speech of small tradesmen, peasants and labourers, is
ten times more so. Difficult as it may seem to a foreigner, yet a born Russian
may attempt it, perhaps, with a little more success. At all events, as said,
one may try.
Selecting therefore, from such popular tracts, - allegories
and moral stories in the form of popular tales - we have translated some for
the readers of “Lucifer”. The Christmas Numbers, December, January and
February, will contain charming little stories, well worthy of a new
translation. Two of them, “Wherein is Love, Therein is God” [1]; “God is in Right, and not in Might”, and some others are
stamped with the spirit of truly religious mysticism. Each deserves to be read
by the admirers of this great Russian author. For this number, however, we have
selected one of a less mystical but more satirical spirit; a cap calculated to
fit the head of any drinking Christian nation ad libitum, and we only hope its title, translated verbatim et
literatim, will not shock still more the susceptibilities of the opponents of
the title of this magazine.
Russia is afflicted with the demon of drink, as much
as, though not more than, England or
any other country; yet it is not so much the Karma of the nation, as that of
their respective governments, whose Karmic burden is growing heavier and more
terrible with every year. This curse and universal incubus, drink, is the
direct and legitimate progeny of the Rulers; it is begotten by their greed for
money, and FORCED by them on the unfortunate masses. Why, in Karma’s name,
should the latter be made to suffer here, and hereafter?
(HPB)
How a Devil’s Imp Redeemed
His Loaf; or - the First Distiller
Leo Tolstoy
A poor peasant
went out early to plough; and as he was leaving home without breaking his fast,
he carried along with him a loaf of bread. Once in the field he turned over his
plough, adjusted the ploughtail, put the ropes under a bush, and over them his
loaf of black bread, and covered the whole with his caftan. At last, the horse got tired and the moojik felt hungry. Then he stopped his plough in the furrow,
unhitched his horse, and leaving it to graze, moved toward his caftan for his meal. But when he had
lifted it up - lo, no loaf was to be seen. Our moojik searched for it here, and he searched for it there he shook
his garment and turned it hither and thither - no loaf! He felt surprised.
Marvellous doings! No one around, and yet the loaf is carried away by someone.
That someone, in truth, was an Imp, who, while the peasant was ploughing, had
stolen his loaf and was now hiding behind a bush, preparing to note down the
man’s profanity, when he would begin to swear and take the devil’s name. The
peasant felt a little sore. “But, after all,” said he, “this won’t starve me;
and he who carried away my bread, perchance needed it. Let him eat it then, and
good luck to him.”
So, going to the well he drank some water, rested a
bit, then catching his horse, he hitched it again to the plough and returned
quietly to his work. The Imp felt considerably troubled at such a failure in
tempting man to sin and forthwith proceeding home to hell, he narrated to his
Elder - the Chief Devil - how he had robbed the moojik of his loaf, who instead of cursing, had only said “to his
good luck!” Satan felt very angry at this. “If,” he argued, “the moojik had the best of thee, in this
business, then it must be thine own fault; thou didst not know how to bring the
thing about. It would be a bad job for us,” he added, “if the peasants, and
after them their women, were to take such tricks: no life would become possible
for us after this, and such an event cannot be left disregarded. “Go,”
continued Satan, “and make up for the failure of the loaf. And if at the end of
three years thou shalt not have the best of that man, I will bathe thee in holy
water.”
The Imp got terribly frightened at this threat, and
running up to earth again, he set himself to thinking how to atone for his
guilt. Thus he thought, thought still, and thought more, and went on thinking
until he had found what he had to do. Assuming the appearance of a good fellow,
he offered himself as a labourer to the poor peasant; and as it happened to be
a drought, he advised him to sow his seed in a swamp. Hence, while the fields
of all the other peasants were parched, and their harvests burnt by the sun,
the crop of the poor peasant grew high and thick, full and grainy. His
household had bread to their heart’s content up to the next harvest, and the
surplus proved considerable. The following year, the summer being wet, the imp
taught the peasant to sow his seed on the mountains. While his neighbours’ corn
was blasted, fell down and got rotten, the peasant’s field on the hills brought
forth the richest harvest. The moojik
stored still more of the corn; and did not know what to do with it.
Then his labouring man taught him to press the corn
and distill it into spirit. Having distilled plenty of it, the moojik took to drinking and making
others drink thereof. One day the Imp returned to the Elder boasting that he
had redeemed his loaf. The Chief went up to see for himself.
Then came the Elder to the moojik, and found that having invited the richest and wealthiest of
his neighbours, he was entertaining them with whiskey. There was the mistress
carrying the glasses to her guests. Hardly had she begun her round when
stumbling over the table, she upset the drink. Out at her flew the moojik abusing his wife to his fill.
“Behold,” he cried, “the devil’s fool. Takest thou good drink for slops? Thou, heavy-handed
stupid, to spill on the earth such treasure!”
Here the Imp poked the Elder in the ribs, “Observe,”
said he, “and see, if he won’t grudge a loaf now.”
Having abused his wife, the moojik began offering the drink himself. Just then a poor labourer
returning from work happened to drop in, unasked, and wishing a merry day to
all, he took a seat. Seeing the company drinking, he too, craved to have a drop
after his hard day’s work. There he sat, smacking his lips time after time, but
the host would offer him nought, only keeping on grumbling: “Who can afford to
furnish with whiskey all of you!”
This pleased the chief Devil immensely; as to the Imp,
he boasted more than ever: “You wait and see what will come next!” he
whispered.
Thus drank the rich peasants, thus drank the host,
pandering to each other, and flattering each other, with sweet words, making
honeyed and false speeches. Listened the Elder to these, and praised the Imp
for this, also. “Without all peradventure,” said he, “this drink making them turn
into such foxes, they will take to cheating each other next; and at this rate
they will soon fall, everyone of them, into our hands.”
“Wait and see,” said the Imp, “what will come next,
when each has one glass more. Now they are only like unto cunning foxes; given
time, and they will get transformed into ferocious wolves.”
The peasants had each one glass more, and forthwith
their talk became louder and more brutal. Instead of honeyed speeches, they
proceeded to abuse each other, and turning gradually fiercer, they ended by
getting into a free fight and damaging each other’s noses badly. Then the host
took also a turn and got soundly thrashed.
As the Elder looked on, he felt much pleased with this
too. “ ’Tis good,” saith he, “very, very good.”
“Wait and see,” said the Imp, “something still better
is in store, as soon as they will have emptied their third glass. Now they are
fighting like hungry wolves, at the third glass they will have become like
swine.”
The peasants had their third round, and quite lost
their reason. Grumbling and hiccupping, shouting at each other, and knowing not
what they said, they rushed out, some alone, some in couples, and some in
triplets, and scattered in the streets. The host trying to see his guests off,
fell with his nose in a mud-puddle, rolled in it and unable to rise, lay there
grunting like a hog . . . . This pleased the Elder Devil most of all.
“Well,” saith he, “thou hast invented a fine drink,
indeed, and redeemed thy loaf! Tell me,” he added, “how hast thou managed to
compound it? Surely thou must have fermented it first, with the blood of the
fox; thence the craft of the drunken peasant, who becomes forthwith a fox
himself. Then thou hast distilled it with wolf’s blood, which makes him as
wicked as a wolf? Finally, thou hast mixed the whole with the blood of the
swine; therefore has the peasant become like a hog.”
“Not so,” quoth the Imp. “I only helped him to get
some extra cereals. The wild beast’s blood is ever present in man, but it
remains latent and finds no issue so long as he has no more bread then he needs
for his food, and then it is that he does not grudge to another his last morsel
of bread. But no sooner did man get more corn than he needed, than he took to
inventing things wherewith to gratify his passions. Then it was that I taught
him the enjoyment - of intoxicating drink. And no sooner had he commenced to
distill the gift of God into spirit, for his gratification, than his original
foxish, wolfish and swinish blood arose in him. Let him now only go on drinking
wine and liquor, and he will remain for ever a beast.”
For which invention the Elder Devil freely praised his
Devil’s Imp, forgave him his failure with the stolen loaf, and promoted him in
Hell.
NOTE:
[1] The short story “Wherein is Love, Therein is God”, by
Leo Tolstoy, is available at our associated websites.
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In September 2016, after a careful analysis of the state of the
esoteric movement worldwide, a group of students decided to form the Independent Lodge of Theosophists,
whose priorities include the building of a better future in the different
dimensions of life.
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