place, what is liberalism, speaking generally, but anattack (whether mistaken or reasonable, is quite another question) uponthe existing order of things? Is this so? Yes. Very well. Then my ‘fact’consists in this, that _Russian_ liberalism is not an attack upon theexisting order of things, but an attack upon the very essence of thingsthemselves--indeed, on the things themselves; not an attack on theRussian order of things, but on Russia itself. My Russian liberalgoes so far as to reject Russia; that is, he hates and strikes his ownmother. Every misfortune and mishap of the mother-country fills him withmirth, and even with ecstasy. He hates the national customs, Russianhistory, and everything. If he has a justification, it is that he doesnot know what he is doing, and believes that his hatred of Russia is thegrandest and most profitable kind of liberalism. (You will often finda liberal who is applauded and esteemed by his fellows, but who is inreality the dreariest, blindest, dullest of conservatives, and is notaware of the fact.) This hatred for Russia has been mistaken by some ofour ‘Russian liberals’ for sincere love of their country, and theyboast that they see better than their neighbours what real love of one’scountry should consist in. But of late they have grown, more candid andare ashamed of the expression ‘love of country,’ and have annihilatedthe very spirit of the words as something injurious and petty andundignified. This is the truth, and I hold by it; but at the same timeit is a phenomenon which has not been repeated at any other time orplace; and therefore, though I hold to it as a fact, yet I recognizethat it is an accidental phenomenon, and may likely enough pass away.There can be no such thing anywhere else as a liberal who really hateshis country; and how is this fact to be explained among _us?_ Bymy original statement that a Russian liberal is _not_ a _Russian_liberal--that’s the only explanation that I can see.”
“I take all that you have said as a joke,” said Prince S. seriously.
“I have not seen all kinds of liberals, and cannot, therefore, setmyself up as a judge,” said Alexandra, “but I have heard all you havesaid with indignation. You have taken some accidental case and twistedit into a universal law, which is unjust.”
“Accidental case!” said Evgenie Pavlovitch. “Do you consider it anaccidental case, prince?”
“I must also admit,” said the prince, “that I have not seen much, orbeen very far into the question; but I cannot help thinking that you aremore or less right, and that Russian liberalism--that phase of it whichyou are considering, at least--really is sometimes inclined to hateRussia itself, and not only its existing order of things in general. Ofcourse this is only _partially_ the truth; you cannot lay down the law forall...”
The prince blushed and broke off, without finishing what he meant tosay.
In spite of his shyness and agitation, he could not help being greatlyinterested in the conversation. A special characteristic of his wasthe naive candour with which he always listened to arguments whichinterested him, and with which he answered any questions put to him onthe subject at issue. In the very expression of his face this naivetewas unmistakably evident, this disbelief in the insincerity of others,and unsuspecting disregard of irony or humour in their words.
But though Evgenie Pavlovitch had put his questions to the prince withno other purpose but to enjoy the joke of his simple-minded seriousness,yet now, at his answer, he was surprised into some seriousness himself,and looked gravely at Muishkin as though he had not expected that sortof answer at all.
“Why, how strange!” he ejaculated. “You didn’t answer me seriously,surely, did you?”
“Did not you ask me the question seriously” inquired the prince, inamazement.
Everybody laughed.
“Oh, trust _him_ for that!” said Adelaida. “Evgenie Pavlovitch turnseverything and everybody he can lay hold of to ridicule. You should hearthe things he says sometimes, apparently in perfect seriousness.”
“In my opinion the conversation has been a painful one throughout, andwe ought never to have begun it,” said Alexandra. “We were all going fora walk--”
“Come along then,” said Evgenie; “it’s a glorious evening. But, to provethat this time I was speaking absolutely seriously, and especiallyto prove this to the prince (for you, prince, have interested meexceedingly, and I swear to you that I am not quite such an ass asI like to appear sometimes, although I am rather an ass, I admit),and--well, ladies and gentlemen, will you allow me to put just one morequestion to the prince, out of pure curiosity? It shall be the last.This question came into my mind a couple of hours since (you see,prince, I do think seriously at times), and I made my own decision uponit; now I wish to hear what the prince will say to it.”
“We have just used the expression ‘accidental case.’ This is asignificant phrase; we often hear it. Well, not long since everyone wastalking and reading about that terrible murder of six people on the partof a--young fellow, and of the extraordinary speech of the counsel forthe defence, who observed that in the poverty-stricken condition of thecriminal it must have come _naturally_ into his head to kill these sixpeople. I do not quote his words, but that is the sense of them, orsomething very like it. Now, in my opinion, the barrister who putforward this extraordinary plea was probably absolutely convinced thathe was stating the most liberal, the most humane, the most enlightenedview of the case that could possibly be brought forward in these days.Now, was this distortion, this capacity for a perverted way of viewingthings, a special or accidental case, or is such a general rule?”
Everyone laughed at this.
“A special case--accidental, of course!” cried Alexandra and Adelaida.
“Let me remind you once more, Evgenie,” said Prince S., “that your jokeis getting a little threadbare.”
“What do you think about it, prince?” asked Evgenie, taking no noticeof the last remark, and observing Muishkin’s serious eyes fixed upon hisface. “What do you think--was it a special or a usual case--the rule, oran exception? I confess I put the question especially for you.”
“No, I don’t think it was a special case,” said the prince, quietly, butfirmly.
“My dear fellow!” cried Prince S., with some annoyance, “don’t you seethat he is chaffing you? He is simply laughing at you, and wants to makegame of you.”
“I thought Evgenie Pavlovitch was talking seriously,” said the prince,blushing and dropping his eyes.
“My dear prince,” continued Prince S. “remember what you and I weresaying two or three months ago. We spoke of the fact that in our newlyopened Law Courts one could already lay one’s finger upon so manytalented and remarkable young barristers. How pleased you were withthe state of things as we found it, and how glad I was to observe yourdelight! We both said it was a matter to be proud of; but this clumsydefence that Evgenie mentions, this strange argument _can_, of course,only be an accidental case--one in a thousand!”
The prince reflected a little, but very soon he replied, with absoluteconviction in his tone, though he still spoke somewhat shyly andtimidly:
“I only wished to say that this ‘distortion,’ as Evgenie Pavlovitchexpressed it, is met with very often, and is far more the general rulethan the exception, unfortunately for Russia. So much so, that if thisdistortion were not the general rule, perhaps these dreadful crimeswould be less frequent.”
“Dreadful crimes? But I can assure you that crimes just as dreadful,and probably more horrible, have occurred before our times, and at alltimes, and not only here in Russia, but everywhere else as well. And inmy opinion it is not at all likely that such murders will cease to occurfor a very long time to come. The only difference is that in formertimes there was less publicity, while now everyone talks and writesfreely about such things--which fact gives the impression that suchcrimes have only now sprung into existence. That is where your mistakelies--an extremely natural mistake, I assure you, my dear fellow!” saidPrince S.
“I know that there were just as many, and just as terrible, crimesbefore our times. Not long since I visited a convict prison and madeacquaintance with some of the criminals.
There were some even moredreadful criminals than this one we have been speaking of--men whohave murdered a dozen of their fellow-creatures, and feel no remorsewhatever. But what I especially noticed was this, that the very mosthopeless and remorseless murderer--however hardened a criminal he maybe--still _knows that he is a criminal_; that is, he is conscious thathe has acted wickedly, though he may feel no remorse whatever. And theywere all like this. Those of whom Evgenie Pavlovitch has spoken, do notadmit that they are criminals at all; they think they had a right todo what they did, and that they were even doing a good deed, perhaps.I consider there is the greatest difference between the two cases.And recollect--it was a _youth_, at the particular age which is mosthelplessly susceptible to the distortion of ideas!”
Prince S. was now no longer smiling; he gazed at the prince inbewilderment.
Alexandra, who had seemed to wish to put in her word when the princebegan, now sat silent, as though some sudden thought had caused her tochange her mind about speaking.
Evgenie Pavlovitch gazed at him in