"You were a clerk on an estate, were you not? Go in peace. I will think about you. It seems that you have no relatives on this earth. Well, go, I will pray for you. We will hope for the best."
I returned to the bakery and began to weigh his words in my mind. That was easily done. Perhaps the mind does become scattered in its search. Still, to live like a sheep is hardly worthy nor right for man. At that time I understood "meditation in prayer" as a sinking into the depths of my own soul, where all the roots lay, and from which thoughts strove to grow upward, as fruit trees. I could not find anything in my soul which was hostile or not to be understood. All that was not to be understood I felt was in God, and all that was hostile was in the world—that is—outside of me.
That the brothers loved Misha I knew to be absolutely untrue, for although I kept myself apart from all and did not mix in their conversations, still I noticed everything and saw that the vested monks as well as the novices disliked Misha and feared him and abhorred him.
I saw also that the monastery was laid out on a purely business basis. They sold wood, they rented land to peasants and the right to fish on the lake; they had a mill, vegetable gardens, large orchards, and sold apples, berries and cabbages. Seventy horses stood in the stables, and the brotherhood was composed of a little over fifty men, all strong and hard workers. There were a few old men—only for parade—to show off before the pilgrims. The monks drank wine and mixed much with women. The young ones spent their nights in the village; and women came to the cells of the older ones, ostensibly to wash the floors; and of course the pilgrims were made use of also.
But all this was not my affair and I could not judge them. I saw no sin in it, only a disgusting lie.
Many novices came to the monastery, but the tests were so difficult that they could not endure them and deserted. During the two years that I spent in this holy place, eleven brothers escaped. They remained one or two months and fled. It seemed the life in the monastery was too difficult.
For the pilgrims who came to the monastery there were, of course, all kinds of attractions. There were the chains of the deceased pious brother Joseph, which were a cure for rheumatism, and his little cap which, when put on the head, cured headaches. And there was a very cold spring in the wood, whose water was good for sickness in general. An image of the Assumption of the Virgin contained all kinds of wonders for believers, and the pious penance brother, Mardarie, could foretell the future and comfort the unhappy. Everything was as it should be, and in the spring, in the month of May, the people streamed here in crowds.
After my conversation with the Abbot, I wanted to find another monastery, which would be simpler and where I need not work so hard, and where the monks would stand nearer to their real task—the understanding of the sins of this world. But several things happened which kept me back.
One day I made the acquaintance of a novice named Grisha, who was employed in the office of the monastery. I had noticed him before. He walked quickly and noisily among the brothers, wore smoked glasses, had an insignificant face, an under-sized body, and walked with his head bent forward, as if he wanted to see nothing but his own path.
The day after my conversation with the Abbot, Grisha came into the bakery. Misha had just gone to the brother treasurer to give his accounts. Grisha came in, greeted me low, and asked: