"I don't know what it is; I am only telling you the truth," Nekhludoff continued. "He knows that the Government is robbing him, knows that we landed proprietors have robbed him long since, robbed him of the land which should be the common property of all, and then, if he picks up dry wood to light his fire on that land stolen from him, we put him in jail, and try to persuade him that he is a thief.
Of course he knows that not he but those who robbed him of the land are thieves, and that to get any restitution of what has been robbed is his duty towards his family."
"I don't understand, or if I do I cannot agree with it.
The land must be somebody's property," began Rogozhinsky quietly, and, convinced that Nekhludoff was a Socialist, and that Socialism demands that all the land should be divided equally, that such a division would be very foolish, and that he could easily prove it to be so, he said. "If you divided it equally to-day, it would to-morrow be again in the hands of the most industrious and clever."
"Nobody is thinking of dividing the land equally. The land must not be anybody's property; must not be a thing to be bought and sold or rented."
"The rights of property are inborn in man; without them the cultivation of land would present no interest.
Destroy the rights of property and we lapse into barbarism." Rogozhinsky uttered this authoritatively, repeating the usual argument in favour of private ownership of land which is supposed to be irrefutable, based on the assumption that people's desire to possess land proves that they need it.
"On the contrary, only when the land is nobody's property will it cease to lie idle, as it does now, while the landlords, like dogs in the manger, unable themselves to put it to use, will not let those use it who are able."
"But, Dmitri Ivanovitch, what you are saying is sheer madness.
Is it possible to abolish property in land in our age?
I know it is your old hobby.
But allow me to tell you straight," and Rogozhinsky grew pale, and his voice trembled. It was evident that this question touched him very nearly. "I should advise you to consider this question well before attempting to solve it practically."
"Are you speaking of my personal affairs?"
"Yes, I hold that we who are placed in special circumstances should bear the responsibilities which spring from those circumstances, should uphold the conditions in which we were born, and which we have inherited from our predecessors, and which we ought to pass on to our descendants."
"I consider it my duty—"
"Wait a bit," said Rogozhinsky, not permitting the interruption. "I am not speaking for myself or my children.
The position of my children is assured, and I earn enough for us to live comfortably, and I expect my children will live so too, so that my interest in your action—which, if you will allow me to say so, is not well considered—is not based on personal motives; it is on principle that I cannot agree with you.
I should advise you to think it well over, to read—-?"
"Please allow me to settle my affairs, and to choose what to read and what not to read, myself," said Nekhludoff, turning pale. Feeling his hands grow cold, and that he was no longer master of himself, he stopped, and began drinking his tea.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE AIM OF THE LAW.
"Well, and how are the children?" Nekhludoff asked his sister when he was calmer.
The sister told him about the children. She said they were staying with their grandmother (their father's mother), and, pleased that his dispute with her husband had come to an end, she began telling him how her children played that they were travelling, just as he used to do with his three dolls, one of them a negro and another which he called the French lady.
"Can you really remember it all?" said Nekhludoff, smiling.
"Yes, and just fancy, they play in the very same way."
The unpleasant conversation had been brought to an end, and Nathalie was quieter, but she did not care to talk in her husband's presence of what could be comprehensible only to her brother, so, wishing to start a general conversation, she began talking about the sorrow of Kamenski's mother at losing her only son, who had fallen in a duel, for this Petersburg topic of the day had now reached Moscow.
Rogozhinsky expressed disapproval at the state of things that excluded murder in a duel from the ordinary criminal offences.
This remark evoked a rejoinder from Nekhludoff, and a new dispute arose on the subject. Nothing was fully explained, neither of the antagonists expressed all he had in his mind, each keeping to his conviction, which condemned the other.
Rogozhinsky felt that Nekhludoff condemned him and despised his activity, and he wished to show him the injustice of his opinions.
Nekhludoff, on the other hand, felt provoked by his brother-in-law's interference in his affairs concerning the land. And knowing in his heart of hearts that his sister, her husband, and their children, as his heirs, had a right to do so, was indignant that this narrow-minded man persisted with calm assurance to regard as just and lawful what Nekhludoff no longer doubted was folly and crime.
This man's arrogance annoyed Nekhludoff.
"What could the law do?" he asked.
"It could sentence one of the two duellists to the mines like an ordinary murderer."
Nekhludoff's hands grew cold. "Well, and what good would that be?" he asked, hotly.
"It would be just."
"As if justice were the aim of the law," said Nekhludoff.
"What else?"
"The upholding of class interests!
I think the law is only an instrument for upholding the existing order of things beneficial to our class."
"This is a perfectly new view," said Rogozhinsky with a quiet smile; "the law is generally supposed to have a totally different aim."
"Yes, so it has in theory but not in practice, as I have found out.
The law aims only at preserving the present state of things, and therefore it persecutes and executes those who stand above the ordinary level and wish to raise it—the so-called political prisoners, as well as those who are below the average—the so-called criminal types."
"I do not agree with you. In the first place, I cannot admit that the criminals classed as political are punished because they are above the average.
In most cases they are the refuse of society, just as much perverted, though in a different way, as the criminal types whom you consider below the average."
"But I happen to know men who are morally far above their judges; all the sectarians are moral, from—"
But Rogozhinsky, a man not accustomed to be interrupted when he spoke, did not listen to Nekhludoff, but went on talking at the same time, thereby irritating him still more.
"Nor can I admit that the object of the law is the upholding of the present state of things.
The law aims at reforming—"
"A nice kind of reform, in a prison!" Nekhludoff put in.
"Or removing," Rogozhinsky went on, persistently, "the perverted and brutalised persons that threaten society."
"That's just what it doesn't do.