Iermola

by Józef Ignacy Kraszewski

The peasants, whose children, early accustomed to rough work, grow slowly and seem with difficulty to get away from the earth, looked upon Iermola's adopted son with astonishment, and shook their heads, saying that he must owe all his strength, elegance, and beauty to the vigorous blood and strong constitution which he inherited by birth. None of his little companions in the village could be compared to him; and it was certain that none of them had such a father as his, or had been, like him, surrounded from the cradle by constant care and tender love. Radionek's appearance attracted every one at once; his features were fine and remarkably regular, his face rather too oval, his nose straight, his mouth small and expressive, his eyes brown and full of fire and life, and his whole countenance full of pride and happiness, sensibility and strength. His hair was cut close above his forehead after the Polesian fashion, thus revealing still more the nobility of his expression by exposing his brow; his beautiful, fine long hair, which had been allowed to grow on the back of his head, fell in golden curls upon his shoulders. Seeing the elegance of his vigorous and supple body, one could scarcely believe that he had been deprived of his natural nourishment when an infant. The breadth of his shoulders foretold a figure of unusual height and strength; the simplicity of his education, which had early accustomed him to rough work, inconveniences of all sorts, and the inclemency of the seasons, had gifted him with the agility, vigour, and elasticity of a young wild animal.

The expression of Radionek's eyes betokened a bright clear mind; he had a firm, frank glance, as though he knew nothing about the struggles and burdens of life, or at least, if he knew of them, did not fear them. The child, young and full of curiosity, lively and tender, animated by pure and ardent sentiments, owed his amiable qualities and his uncommon development to the affectionate heart and tender love of his excellent father. Thus it is that the love of one being is shed upon all who surround him, elevates and ennobles them, and bestows upon them intelligence and strength,--unique and precious gifts which no other power on earth can bring them. Radionek, who felt himself surrounded by Iermola's care and protection, and who from his infancy had seen about him only what was cordial and tender, was accustomed to sweet sentiments, and had imbibed them; he loved all things,--and loving, he was happy. All the inhabitants of the village considered him their nursling; and with the exception of the steward Hudny, who was still at Popielnia, though each year he made preparations to take a large farm, there was not a single person who did not take great pleasure in welcoming and petting the little boy.

In all their plays, in all their undertakings, the children of the village, both girls and boys, obeyed the slightest sign from Radionek; and although he was a little better clothed and was handsomer than any of them, and though he knew more than they did, he never took advantage of his superiority, or even overestimated it. He was pleasant and affable to all, and never wounded any one. It is rare that any real father ever watches over and teaches his child as Iermola watched over and taught Radionek. During his earliest years, he had cared for his body; later, when his ears and his eyes were opened, he began to awaken his soul and to prepare him for the struggles of life.

The instinct of affection had in this respect guided him marvellously; and thus was wrought imperceptibly one of the miracles of life. The master learned and developed along with his pupil. Will had enlarged and softened his heart; feeling had elevated and enlightened his mind. In seeking for the true and the good for his child, Iermola had found them for himself; the chilled, sleeping, half-dead seed had produced fruit, late, but excellent and fine.

The old man, wishing to instruct the child, had been obliged first to learn himself; he had studied, compared, reflected, meditated, prayed, and he had finally learned by the power of love what is rarely accomplished by wit and reason. He knew but little, it is true; but that little was a great deal. The child knew how to read, and read no book but the Bible.

Here it was that he found nourishment, from the healthful source of life.

Besides, the old man, who feared constantly that he might die and leave Radionek entirely orphaned, had taken care to teach him his trade as soon as he had acquired some skill and quickness, and to make him fully acquainted with all the little secrets of his daily work, the knowledge of which gives a man independence and teaches him to depend upon himself. Our peasants are still in that stage of barbarism which belongs to half-civilized people, and which gives them a certain superiority over civilized races, enabling them to supply all their own wants. Even a very young villager knows how to do a great many things. Every day he is obliged to try his skill in some way; he is at once farm-hand, carpenter, miller, architect, mason, dyer, weaver, and in almost any case of urgent necessity he easily succeeds in doing what is needed.

Among people living in a state of higher civilization and bound together by joint responsibility, the case is quite different. Such a mode of living reduces them to real inferiority; the English emigrants who settle as colonists in new countries almost all succumb to the difficulties of a life which is unendurable to them. Not only in large cities, but even in the villages, the necessaries of life can all be bought ready-made, and consequently each one knows only one trade; all necessities can be obtained by exchange. It is true that in this way each particular article is skilfully manufactured and sold cheaply, and a profit is made by exchange. We cannot, however, recognize as healthy and beneficial the result of civilization in the exclusive employment of the faculties of man, which in time transforms him into a sort of machine, and if he is thrown out of his place, in the end renders him useless, as a wheel cast from the axle. This evil is only the fatal consequence of the imprudent and excessive division of labour, which offers great advantages doubtless, but which, carried to an extreme, presents great dangers. In this respect our nation is not yet subject to the prejudices which in the West exercise such a baleful influence.

Iermola, like every peasant of his time, knew therefore a great many things which he had learned in the business and events of ordinary life; and if he did not place these things in the honourable rank of attainments, they nevertheless constituted for him an inestimable treasure.

A potter by trade, and a very skilful potter, he was at the same time a tolerable fisherman, having learned, at first for his own amusement, to use the netting-needle and to set weirs. He used the axe skilfully, was not unacquainted with the different sorts of work necessary in a mill, was an excellent teamster, and knew a great many things in connection with out-of-door work which are usually known only by regular farm-hands.