VIII

  "Ha! ha! ha! But you know there is no such thing as choice in reality,say what you like," you will interpose with a chuckle. "Science hassucceeded in so far analysing man that we know already that choice andwhat is called freedom of will is nothing else than--"

  Stay, gentlemen, I meant to begin with that myself I confess, I wasrather frightened. I was just going to say that the devil only knowswhat choice depends on, and that perhaps that was a very good thing,but I remembered the teaching of science ... and pulled myself up. Andhere you have begun upon it. Indeed, if there really is some daydiscovered a formula for all our desires and caprices--that is, anexplanation of what they depend upon, by what laws they arise, how theydevelop, what they are aiming at in one case and in another and so on,that is a real mathematical formula--then, most likely, man will atonce cease to feel desire, indeed, he will be certain to. For whowould want to choose by rule? Besides, he will at once be transformedfrom a human being into an organ-stop or something of the sort; forwhat is a man without desires, without free will and without choice, ifnot a stop in an organ? What do you think? Let us reckon thechances--can such a thing happen or not?

  "H'm!" you decide. "Our choice is usually mistaken from a false viewof our advantage. We sometimes choose absolute nonsense because in ourfoolishness we see in that nonsense the easiest means for attaining asupposed advantage. But when all that is explained and worked out onpaper (which is perfectly possible, for it is contemptible andsenseless to suppose that some laws of nature man will neverunderstand), then certainly so-called desires will no longer exist.For if a desire should come into conflict with reason we shall thenreason and not desire, because it will be impossible retaining ourreason to be SENSELESS in our desires, and in that way knowingly actagainst reason and desire to injure ourselves. And as all choice andreasoning can be really calculated--because there will some day bediscovered the laws of our so-called free will--so, joking apart, theremay one day be something like a table constructed of them, so that wereally shall choose in accordance with it. If, for instance, some daythey calculate and prove to me that I made a long nose at someonebecause I could not help making a long nose at him and that I had to doit in that particular way, what FREEDOM is left me, especially if I ama learned man and have taken my degree somewhere? Then I should beable to calculate my whole life for thirty years beforehand. In short,if this could be arranged there would be nothing left for us to do;anyway, we should have to understand that. And, in fact, we oughtunwearyingly to repeat to ourselves that at such and such a time and insuch and such circumstances nature does not ask our leave; that we havegot to take her as she is and not fashion her to suit our fancy, and ifwe really aspire to formulas and tables of rules, and well, even ... tothe chemical retort, there's no help for it, we must accept the retorttoo, or else it will be accepted without our consent...."

  Yes, but here I come to a stop! Gentlemen, you must excuse me forbeing over-philosophical; it's the result of forty years underground!Allow me to indulge my fancy. You see, gentlemen, reason is anexcellent thing, there's no disputing that, but reason is nothing butreason and satisfies only the rational side of man's nature, while willis a manifestation of the whole life, that is, of the whole human lifeincluding reason and all the impulses. And although our life, in thismanifestation of it, is often worthless, yet it is life and not simplyextracting square roots. Here I, for instance, quite naturally want tolive, in order to satisfy all my capacities for life, and not simply mycapacity for reasoning, that is, not simply one twentieth of mycapacity for life. What does reason know? Reason only knows what ithas succeeded in learning (some things, perhaps, it will never learn;this is a poor comfort, but why not say so frankly?) and human natureacts as a whole, with everything that is in it, consciously orunconsciously, and, even if it goes wrong, it lives. I suspect,gentlemen, that you are looking at me with compassion; you tell meagain that an enlightened and developed man, such, in short, as thefuture man will be, cannot consciously desire anything disadvantageousto himself, that that can be proved mathematically. I thoroughlyagree, it can--by mathematics. But I repeat for the hundredth time,there is one case, one only, when man may consciously, purposely,desire what is injurious to himself, what is stupid, verystupid--simply in order to have the right to desire for himself evenwhat is very stupid and not to be bound by an obligation to desire onlywhat is sensible. Of course, this very stupid thing, this caprice ofours, may be in reality, gentlemen, more advantageous for us thananything else on earth, especially in certain cases. And in particularit may be more advantageous than any advantage even when it does usobvious harm, and contradicts the soundest conclusions of our reasonconcerning our advantage--for in any circumstances it preserves for uswhat is most precious and most important--that is, our personality, ourindividuality. Some, you see, maintain that this really is the mostprecious thing for mankind; choice can, of course, if it chooses, be inagreement with reason; and especially if this be not abused but keptwithin bounds. It is profitable and sometimes even praiseworthy. Butvery often, and even most often, choice is utterly and stubbornlyopposed to reason ... and ... and ... do you know that that, too, isprofitable, sometimes even praiseworthy? Gentlemen, let us supposethat man is not stupid. (Indeed one cannot refuse to suppose that, ifonly from the one consideration, that, if man is stupid, then who iswise?) But if he is not stupid, he is monstrously ungrateful!Phenomenally ungrateful. In fact, I believe that the best definitionof man is the ungrateful biped. But that is not all, that is not hisworst defect; his worst defect is his perpetual moral obliquity,perpetual--from the days of the Flood to the Schleswig-Holstein period.Moral obliquity and consequently lack of good sense; for it has longbeen accepted that lack of good sense is due to no other cause thanmoral obliquity. Put it to the test and cast your eyes upon thehistory of mankind. What will you see? Is it a grand spectacle?Grand, if you like. Take the Colossus of Rhodes, for instance, that'sworth something. With good reason Mr. Anaevsky testifies of it thatsome say that it is the work of man's hands, while others maintain thatit has been created by nature herself. Is it many-coloured? May be itis many-coloured, too: if one takes the dress uniforms, military andcivilian, of all peoples in all ages--that alone is worth something,and if you take the undress uniforms you will never get to the end ofit; no historian would be equal to the job. Is it monotonous? May beit's monotonous too: it's fighting and fighting; they are fighting now,they fought first and they fought last--you will admit, that it isalmost too monotonous. In short, one may say anything about thehistory of the world--anything that might enter the most disorderedimagination. The only thing one can't say is that it's rational. Thevery word sticks in one's throat. And, indeed, this is the odd thingthat is continually happening: there are continually turning up in lifemoral and rational persons, sages and lovers of humanity who make ittheir object to live all their lives as morally and rationally aspossible, to be, so to speak, a light to their neighbours simply inorder to show them that it is possible to live morally and rationallyin this world. And yet we all know that those very people sooner orlater have been false to themselves, playing some queer trick, often amost unseemly one. Now I ask you: what can be expected of man since heis a being endowed with strange qualities? Shower upon him everyearthly blessing, drown him in a sea of happiness, so that nothing butbubbles of bliss can be seen on the surface; give him economicprosperity, such that he should have nothing else to do but sleep, eatcakes and busy himself with the continuation of his species, and eventhen out of sheer ingratitude, sheer spite, man would play you somenasty trick. He would even risk his cakes and would deliberatelydesire the most fatal rubbish, the most uneconomical absurdity, simplyto introduce into all this positive good sense his fatal fantasticelement. It is just his fantastic dreams, his vulgar folly that hewill desire to retain, simply in order to prove to himself--as thoughthat were so necessary--that men still are men and not the keys of apiano, which the laws of nature threaten to contr
ol so completely thatsoon one will be able to desire nothing but by the calendar. And thatis not all: even if man really were nothing but a piano-key, even ifthis were proved to him by natural science and mathematics, even thenhe would not become reasonable, but would purposely do somethingperverse out of simple ingratitude, simply to gain his point. And ifhe does not find means he will contrive destruction and chaos, willcontrive sufferings of all sorts, only to gain his point! He willlaunch a curse upon the world, and as only man can curse (it is hisprivilege, the primary distinction between him and other animals), maybe by his curse alone he will attain his object--that is, convincehimself that he is a man and not a piano-key! If you say that allthis, too, can be calculated and tabulated--chaos and darkness andcurses, so that the mere possibility of calculating it all beforehandwould stop it all, and reason would reassert itself, then man wouldpurposely go mad in order to be rid of reason and gain his point! Ibelieve in it, I answer for it, for the whole work of man really seemsto consist in nothing but proving to himself every minute that he is aman and not a piano-key! It may be at the cost of his skin, it may beby cannibalism! And this being so, can one help being tempted torejoice that it has not yet come off, and that desire still depends onsomething we don't know?

  You will scream at me (that is, if you condescend to do so) that no oneis touching my free will, that all they are concerned with is that mywill should of itself, of its own free will, coincide with my ownnormal interests, with the laws of nature and arithmetic.

  Good heavens, gentlemen, what sort of free will is left when we come totabulation and arithmetic, when it will all be a case of twice two makefour? Twice two makes four without my will. As if free will meantthat!