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and stood before him waiting
‘What have you come for, worthy Father? Why do you of-
fend against good order? Why do you disturb the peace of
the flock?’ he said at last, looking sternly at him.
‘What have I come for? You ask why? What is your faith?’
shouted Father Ferapont crazily. ‘I’ve come here to drive out
your visitors, the unclean devils. I’ve come to see how many
have gathered here while I have been away. I want to sweep
them out with a birch broom.’
‘You cast out the evil spirit, but perhaps you are serving
him yourself,’ Father Paissy went on fearlessly. ‘And who
can say of himself ‘I am holy’? Can you, Father?’
‘I am unclean, not holy. I would not sit in an arm-chair
and would not have them bow down to me as an idol,’ thun-
dered Father Ferapont. ‘Nowadays folk destroy the true
faith. The dead man, your saint,’ he turned to the crowd,
pointing with his finger to the coffin, ‘did not believe in
devils. He gave medicine to keep off the devils. And so they
have become as common as spiders in the corners. And now
he has begun to stink himself. In that we see a great sign
from God.’
The incident he referred to was this. One of the monks
was haunted in his dreams and, later on, in waking mo-
ments, by visions of evil spirits. When in the utmost terror
he confided this to Father Zossima, the elder had advised
continual prayer and rigid fasting. But when that was of no
use, he advised him while persisting in prayer and fasting,
to take a special medicine. Many persons were shocked at
the time and wagged their heads as they talked over it — and

The Brothers Karamazov