Father Sergius | Page 6

might, he
could not master that feeling. He was submissive to the Abbot, but in
the depths of his soul he never ceased to condemn him. And in the
second year of his residence at the new monastery that ill-feeling broke
out.
The Vigil service was being performed in the large church on the eve of

the feast of the Intercession of the Blessed Virgin, and there were many
visitors. The Abbot himself was conducting the service. Father Sergius
was standing in his usual place and praying: that is, he was in that
condition of struggle which always occupied him during the service,
especially in the large church when he was not himself conducting the
service. This conflict was occasioned by his irritation at the presence of
fine folk, especially ladies. He tried not to see them or to notice all that
went on: how a soldier conducted them, pushing the common people
aside, how the ladies pointed out the monks to one another--especially
himself and a monk noted for his good looks. He tried as it were to
keep his mind in blinkers, to see nothing but the light of the candles on
the altar-screen, the icons, and those conducting the service. He tried to
hear nothing but the prayers that were being chanted or read, to feel
nothing but self-oblivion in consciousness of the fulfilment of duty--a
feeling he always experienced when hearing or reciting in advance the
prayers he had so often heard.
So he stood, crossing and prostrating himself when necessary, and
struggled with himself, now giving way to cold condemnation and now
to a consciously evoked obliteration of thought and feeling. Then the
sacristan, Father Nicodemus--also a great stumbling-block to Sergius
who involuntarily reproached him for flattering and fawning on the
Abbot--approached him and, bowing low, requested his presence
behind the holy gates. Father Sergius straightened his mantle, put on
his biretta, and went circumspectly through the crowd.
'Lise, regarde a droite, c'est lui!' he heard a woman's voice say.
'Ou, ou? Il n'est pas tellement beau.'
He knew that they were speaking of him. He heard them and, as always
at moments of temptation, he repeated the words, 'Lead us not into
temptation,' and bowing his head and lowering his eyes went past the
ambo and in by the north door, avoiding the canons in their cassocks
who were just then passing the altar-screen. On entering the sanctuary
he bowed, crossing himself as usual and bending double before the
icons. Then, raising his head but without turning, he glanced out of the
corner of his eye at the Abbot, whom he saw standing beside another

glittering figure.
The Abbot was standing by the wall in his vestments. Having freed his
short plump hands from beneath his chasuble he had folded them over
his fat body and protruding stomach, and fingering the cords of his
vestments was smilingly saying something to a military man in the
uniform of a general of the Imperial suite, with its insignia and
shoulder-knots which Father Sergius's experienced eye at once
recognized. This general had been the commander of the regiment in
which Sergius had served. He now evidently occupied an important
position, and Father Sergius at once noticed that the Abbot was aware
of this and that his red face and bald head beamed with satisfaction and
pleasure. This vexed and disgusted Father Sergius, the more so when
he heard that the Abbot had only sent for him to satisfy the general's
curiosity to see a man who had formerly served with him, as he
expressed it.
'Very pleased to see you in your angelic guise,' said the general,
holding out his hand. 'I hope you have not forgotten an old comrade.'
The whole thing--the Abbot's red, smiling face amid its fringe of grey,
the general's words, his well-cared-for face with its self-satisfied smile
and the smell of wine from his breath and of cigars from his
whiskers--revolted Father Sergius. He bowed again to the Abbot and
said:
'Your reverence deigned to send for me?'--and stopped, the whole
expression of his face and eyes asking why.
'Yes, to meet the General,' replied the Abbot.
'Your reverence, I left the world to save myself from temptation,' said
Father Sergius, turning pale and with quivering lips. 'Why do you
expose me to it during prayers and in God's house?'
'You may go! Go!' said the Abbot, flaring up and frowning.
Next day Father Sergius asked pardon of the Abbot and of the brethren

for his pride, but at the same time, after a night spent in prayer, he
decided that he must leave this monastery, and he wrote to the starets
begging permission to return to him. He wrote that he felt his weakness
and incapacity to struggle against temptation without his help and