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'Odd,' he repated thoughtfully. 'All right, come on then—1 don't ^md.'

Achmianov went briskly and Uyevsk.y followed. They

•^Jked do^ the street, then took. lane. is a bore,' Layevsk:y said.

'We shan't be long, it's quite ne2r.'

Ne2r theold to^wall they took the rurrow lanebetw^rn two fenced ^ute plots, then entercd a large yard and approached a small cottage.

'Myuridov's place, isn't it?' asked Layevsky.

'Yes.'

'Then why have we come round the back way, that's what I can't see? We could have taken the main road, it's nearer.'

'Never mind that.'

Layevsky was also perplexed because Achmianov was taking him to the back door, with a gesture which seemed to ask him to step quietly and make no noise.

'Come on, this way,' said Achmianov, opening the door cautiously and tip-toeing into the lobby. 'Quiet, please—they might hear.'

He pricked up his ears for a moment and drew a deep breath.

'Open that door and go in,' he whispered. 'Never fear.'

Bewildered, Layevsky opened the door and entered a low-ceilinged room with curtained windows and a candle on the table.

'Who do you want?' someone asked in the next room. 'Is that you, Myuridov, old man?'

Layevsky went in and saw Kirilin with Nadezhda by his side.

Not hearing what they said, he backed away and found himself in the street without knowing how he had got there. His hatred ofVon Koren and his anxiety—all that had vanished from his mind. On his way home he swung his right arm awkwardly and looked carefully beneath his feet, trying to walk on level ground. Once back in his study he rubbed his hands, awkwardly twisting his shoulders and neck as if his coat and shirt were too tight, paced up and do^ the room—then lit a candle and sat at his desk.

XVI

'The humane studies of which you speak—they'll only satisfy man's mind when their path converges and runs parallel with that of the exact sci<;nces. Whether these paths will meet under the microscope, in the soliloquies of a new H.amlet or in some new religion, I can't tell, but I do think a new icc age will cover the whole earth before it happens. Of all the humane studies the most stable. and vital is, of course, Christ's teaching. But even that—look at the dferent inter- pretations it gives rise to! Some teach us to love our neighbours—but make exceptions of soldiers, criminals and lunatics. The first may legitimately be killed in war, the second may be isolated or executed, and the third are forbidden to marry. Other interpreters teach us to love all our neighboiirs without exception, without awarding plus and minus signs. If a consumptive, a murderer or epileptic seeks your daughter's hand, then let him marry her, say they. If cretins make war on the physically and mentally normal, then normal people should simply throw up the sponge. Should it come into force, this doctrine of love for love's sake—like art for art's sake—would end in mankind's total extinction . . . the most colossal crime in the world's history. There are masses of doctrines, in vie\v of which no serious mind can be satisfied with any one of them, but hurries to add its individual gloss to the pile of others. So never base an issue on what you call philo- sophical or so-called Christian grounds, because that only takes you further from a solution.'

The deacon listened carefully to the zoologist's words and pondered.

'The moral law inherent in all men,' he said, '—is that a philosophers' invention? Or did God create it along with the body ?'

'I can't say. But the law is common to all periods and ages—and to such an extent that we must recognize it as an organic part of man's nature, I think. No one invented it—it just is, and will be. I'm not saying we shall ever see it under the microscope, but its organic links are a matter of observation. Serious brain trouble—all the so-called mental diseases—fmd their chief expression in perversions of the moral law, so far as I know.'

'Very well. So the moral law wants us to love our neighbours in the same way as our stomach wants food, is that your meaning? But our nature, being self-centred, resists the voice of conscience and reason, thus creating many knotty problems. To whom then should we apply for a solution of such problems if you won't let us tackle them philosophically ?'

'Apply such little exact knowledge as we possess. Trust plain evidence and the logic of facts. They aren't much to go on, I know, but at least they're less flimsy and nebulous than philosophy. The natural law requires you to love people, say. Now then, love must consist in re- moving everything which in any way injures people or menaces their present and future. Knowledge and common sense tell us that the morally and physically abnormal constitute a menace to mankind. If so, then you must wage war on these freaks. If you can't raise them to the norm, you at least have the strength and skill to nemralize them— exterminate them, in other words.'

'So love is the victory of the strong over the weak?'

'It most certainly is.'

'But dash it, the strong crucified our Lord Jesus Christ!' said the deacon heatedly.

'It was the weak who crucified Him, not the strong—that's the whole point! Civilization has whittled down the struggle for existence and natural selection—it seeks to eliminate them. Hence the rapid increase of the weak, hence their ascendancy over the strong. Suppose you managed to instill a rough and ready form ofhumane ideals into bees— where would that lead? The drones, who should be killed, would remain alive. They'd cat up the honey, they'd corrupt and smother the other bees, and the result would be the ascendancy of the weak over the strong, leading to the latter's extinction. That's what is happening to man now—the weak are crushing the strong. Among savages as yet untouched by culture, the stronger, the wiser, the morally superior man forges ahead. He is their chief and master. But we civilized people crucified Christ—we still are crucifying him. So we must lack some- thing. That missing element we must restore, or else these misadven- tures will go on for ever.'

'But what criterion have you to distinguish strong from weak?'

'Knowledge and common sense. As the consumptive and the scrofu- lous are known by their symptoms, so arc the immoral and insane by their acts.'

'But mistakes can happen, can't they?'

'Yes, but why worry about wet feet with a flood at your door?'

'That's philosophy,' laughed the deacon.

'Not a bit of it. You've been so ruined by philosophy of the theo- logical college brand that you refuse to see anything but fog anywhere. Those abstract studies with which your young brain is crammed—the only reason they're called abstract is that they abstract your thoughts from what's staring you in the face. Look the devil straight in the eye. If he is the devil, say so—don't run off to Kant or Hegel for your explanations.'

The zoologist paused briefly.

'Twice two is four,' he went on. 'And a stone is a stone. Tomorrow we have this duel. We may call it stupid and inept, you and I, we may say the days of duelling are done, we may say there's no real difference between a gentleman's duel and a drunken brawl in an ale-house. Still, that won't stop us, we shall go and fight—which means that there is a force mightier than our deliberations. We scream about war being robbery, barbarism, horror, fratricide. We faint at the sight of blood. But let the French or Germans only insult us, and we at once feel elated, we raise a cheer from the very bottom of our hearts, and we pounce on the enemy. You invoke God's blessing on our arms, while our valour arouses universal—and heartfelt—enthusiasm. So it once again follows that there is a force which is at lcast stronger—even if no higher—than we and our philosophy. We can't bar its way any more than we can stop that cloud moving in from the sea. Now, don't you be hypocritical about that force, don't mutter defiance at it under your breath, and don't go on about how stupid, outmoded and anti-scrip- tural it is. You look it straight in the eye, recognizing its validity and rationality. And when, say, it wants to destroy some feeble, scrofulous, degenerate breed, don't try to stop it with your patent medicines and your quotations from the Gospels which you so ill understand. There's a high-minded character in Leskov called Daniel—in the name of love and Christ he fceds and warms a leper whom he's discovered near his town. But if this Daniel had really loved people, he'd have hauled that leper as far out of to^ as possible, thrown him in a ditch, and gone off to serve the healthy. The love which Christ commanded us is, I should hope, rational, intelligent and useful.'