I thought about that in the night train, on the way from Moscow to Petersburg. I
asked myself whether I had indeed found what I was looking for. Was it possible that
G. actually
deeds, to "facts"? I was still not certain of anything, nor could I formulate anything precisely. But I had an inner conviction that something had already changed for me
and that now everything would go differently.
IN PETERSBURG the summer passed with the usual literary work. I was preparing
my books for new editions, reading proofs, and so on. This was the terrible summer of
1915 with its gradually lowering atmosphere, from which, in spite of all efforts, I
could not free myself. The war was now being waged on Russian territory and was
coming nearer to us. Everything was beginning to totter. The hidden suicidal activity
which has determined so much in Russian life was becoming more and more apparent.
A "trial of strength" was in progress. Printers were perpetually going on strike. My work was held up. And I was already beginning to think that the catastrophe would be
upon us before I succeeded in doing what I intended. But my thoughts very often
returned to the Moscow talks. Several times when things became particularly difficult
I remember I said to myself, "I will give up everything and go to G. in Moscow." And at this thought I always felt easier.
Time passed. One day, it was already autumn, I was called to the telephone and
heard G.'s voice. He had come to Petersburg for a few days. I went to see him at once
and, in between conversations with other people who came to see him on various
matters, he spoke to me just as he had in Moscow.
When he was leaving next day he told me he would soon be coming back again.
And on this second visit, when I told him about a certain group I went to in
Petersburg, where all possible subjects were discussed, from war to psychology, he
said that acquaintance with similar groups might be useful, as he was thinking of
starting the same kind of work in Petersburg as he was conducting in Moscow.
He went to Moscow and promised to return in a fortnight. I spoke of him to some of
my friends and we began to await his arrival.
He returned again for a short time. I succeeded, however, in introducing some
people to him. In regard to his plans and intentions, he said he wanted to organize his
work on a larger scale, give public lectures, arrange a series of experiments and
demonstrations, and attract to his work people with a wider and more varied
preparation. All this reminded me of a part of what I had heard in Moscow. But I did
not clearly understand
what "experiments" and "demonstrations" he spoke of; this became clear only later.
I remember one talk—as usual with G.—in a small café on the Nevsky.
G. told me in some detail about the organization of groups for his work and about
their role in that work. Once or twice he used the word "esoteric," which I had not heard from him before, and I was interested in what he meant by it. But when I tried to
stop and ask what he meant by the word "esoteric" he avoided an answer.
"This is not important; well—call it what you like," he said. "That is not the point; the point is that a 'group' is the beginning of everything. One man can do nothing, can
attain nothing. A group with a real leader can do more, A group of people can do what
one man can never do.
"You do not realize your own situation. You are in prison. All you can wish for, if
you are a sensible man, is to escape. But how escape? It is necessary to tunnel under a
wall. One man can do nothing. But let us suppose there are ten or twenty men—if they
work in turn and if one covers another they can complete the tunnel and escape.
"Furthermore, no one can escape from prison without the help of those
without an organization."
G. often returned afterwards to this example of "prison" and "escape from prison" in his talks. Sometimes he began with it, and then his favorite statement was that, if a
man in prison was at any time to have a chance of escape, then he must first of all
will, in opposition to his wishes. If liberation is possible, it is possible only as a result of great labor and great efforts, and, above all, of conscious efforts, towards a definite aim.
Gradually I introduced a greater and greater number of people to G. And every time
he came to Petersburg I arranged talks and lectures, in which he took part, either at