nekhludoff's anarchism.
as soon as nekhludoff returned that evening and saw his sister's note on the table he started to go and see her. he found nathalie alone, her husband having gone to take a rest in the next room. she wore a tightly-fitting black silk dress, with a red bow in front. her black hair was crimped and arranged according to the latest fashion.
the pains she took to appear young, for the sake of her husband, whose equal she was in years, were very obvious.
when she saw her brother she jumped up and hurried towards him, with her silk dress rustling. they kissed, and looked smilingly at each other. there passed between them that mysterious exchange of looks, full of meaning, in which all was true, and which cannot be expressed in words. then came words which were not true. they had not met since their mother's death.
"you have grown stouter and younger," he said, and her lips puckered up with pleasure.
"and you have grown thinner."
"well, and how is your husband?" nekhludoff asked.
"he is taking a rest; he did not sleep all night." there was much to say, but it was not said in words; only their looks expressed what their words failed to say.
"i went to see you."
"yes, i know. i moved because the house is too big for me. i was lonely there, and dull. i want nothing of all that is there, so that you had better take it all--the furniture, i mean, and things."
"yes, agraphena petrovna told me. i went there. thanks, very much. but--"
at this moment the hotel waiter brought in a silver tea-set. while he set the table they were silent. then nathalie sat down at the table and made the tea, still in silence. nekhludoff also said nothing.
at last nathalie began resolutely. "well, dmitri, i know all about it." and she looked at him.
"what of that? l am glad you know."
"how can you hope to reform her after the life she has led?" she asked.
he sat quite straight on a small chair, and listened attentively, trying to understand her and to answer rightly. the state of mind called forth in him by his last interview with maslova still filled his soul with quiet joy and good will to all men.
"it is not her but myself i wish to reform," he replied.
nathalie sighed.
"there are other means besides marriage to do that."
"but i think it is the best. besides, it leads me into that world in which i can be of use."
"i cannot believe you will be happy," said nathalie.
"it's not my happiness that is the point."
"of course, but if she has a heart she cannot be happy--cannot even wish it."
"she does not wish it."
"i understand; but life--"
"yes--life?"
"demands something different."
"it demands nothing but that we should do what is right," said nekhludoff, looking into her face, still handsome, though slightly wrinkled round eyes and mouth.
"i do not understand," she said, and sighed.
"poor darling; how could she change so?" he thought, calling back to his mind nathalie as she had been before her marriage, and feeling towards her a tenderness woven out of innumerable memories of childhood. at that moment rogozhinsky entered the room, with head thrown back and expanded chest, and stepping lightly and softly in his usual manner, his spectacles, his bald patch, and his black beard all glistening.
"how do you do? how do you do?" he said, laying an unnatural and intentional stress on his words. (though, soon after the marriage, they had tried to be more familiar with each other, they had never succeeded.)
they shook hands, and rogozhinsky sank softly into an easy-chair.
"am i not interrupting your conversation?"
"no, i do not wish to hide what i am saying or doing from any one."
as soon as nekhludoff saw the hairy hands, and heard the patronising, self-assured tones, his meekness left him in a moment.
"yes, we were talking about his intentions," said nathalie. "shall i give you a cup of tea?" she added, taking the teapot.
"yes, please. what particular intentions do you mean?"
"that of going to siberia with the gang of prisoners, among whom is the woman i consider myself to have wronged," uttered nekhludoff.
"i hear not only to accompany her, but more than that."
"yes, and to marry her if she wishes it."
"dear me! but if you do not object i should like to ask you to explain your motives. i do not understand them."
"my motives are that this woman--that this woman's first step on her way to degradation--" nekhludoff got angry with himself, and was unable to find the right expression. "my motives are that i am the guilty one, and she gets the punishment."
"if she is being punished she cannot be innocent, either."
"she is quite innocent." and nekhludoff related the whole incident with unnecessary warmth.
"yes, that was a case of carelessness on the part of the president, the result of which was a thoughtless answer on the part of the jury; but there is the senate for cases like that."
"the senate has rejected the appeal."
"well, if the senate has rejected it, there cannot have been sufficient reasons for an appeal," said rogozhinsky, evidently sharing the prevailing opinion that truth is the product of judicial decrees. "the senate cannot enter into the question on its merits. if there is a real mistake, the emperor should be petitioned."
"that has been done, but there is no probability of success. they will apply to the department of the ministry, the department will consult the senate, the senate will repeat its decision, and, as usual, the innocent will get punished."
"in the first place, the department of the ministry won't consult the senate," said rogozhinsky, with a condescending smile; "it will give orders for the original deeds to be sent from the law court, and if it discovers a mistake it will decide accordingly. and, secondly, the innocent are never punished, or at least in very rare, exceptional cases. it is the guilty who are punished," rogozhinsky said deliberately, and smiled self-complacently.
"and i have become fully convinced that most of those condemned by law are innocent."
"how's that?"
"innocent in the literal sense. just as this woman is innocent of poisoning any one; as innocent as a peasant i have just come to know, of the murder he never committed; as a mother and son who were on the point of being condemned for incendiarism, which was committed by the owner of the house that was set on fire."
"well, of course there always have been and always will be judicial errors. human institutions cannot be perfect."
"and, besides, there are a great many people convicted who are innocent of doing anything considered wrong by the society they have grown up in."
"excuse me, this is not so; every thief knows that stealing is wrong, and that we should not steal; that it is immoral," said rogozhinsky, with his quiet, self-assured, slightly contemptuous smile, which specially irritated nekhludoff.
"no, he does not know it; they say to him 'don't steal,' and he knows that the master of the factory steals his labour by keeping back his wages; that the government, with its officials, robs him continually by taxation."
"why, this is anarchism," rogozhinsky said, quietly defining his brother-in-law's words.
"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.
聂赫留朵夫回到家里，发现桌上有姐姐的字条，就立刻坐车去找她。这时已是黄昏。拉戈任斯基在另一个房间里休息，娜塔丽雅独自迎接弟弟。她穿一件小腰身黑绸连衣裙，胸前扎着一个红花结，蓬蓬松松的乌黑头发梳成时髦的款式。她竭力打扮得年轻漂亮，显然是要讨年龄相同的丈夫的欢心。她一看见弟弟，霍地从沙发上站起来，快步向他走去，绸连衣裙的下摆发出窸窣的响声。他们接吻，笑眯眯地对视了一下，意味深长地交换了一下眼色，那姿态神秘而难以用语言表达，但感情真挚。接着他们开始交谈，他们的话就不那么真挚了。
自从母亲去世以后，他们没有再见过面。
“你胖了，显得更年轻了，”弟弟说。
姐姐高兴得嘴唇都皱起来。
“你可瘦了。”
“那么，姐夫怎么样？”聂赫留朵夫问。
“他在休息。他一夜没睡。”
他们有许多话要说，但一句也没有说，倒是他们的眼神说出丁他们嘴里没有说出来的话。
“我到你那里去过了。”
“是的，我知道。我已经从家里搬出来了。房子太大，我住在那里觉得孤独、寂寞。如今我什么也不需要了，你把东西统统拿去吧，就是那些家具什么的。”
“是的，阿格拉斐娜对我说了，我到那里去过，那太感谢你了。不过……”
这当儿，旅馆茶房送来一套银茶具。
茶房摆茶具的时候，姐弟俩没有说话。娜塔丽雅坐到茶几后面的圈椅上，默默地斟茶。聂赫留朵夫也不作声。
“哦，我说，德米特里，我全知道了，”娜塔丽雅瞟了他一眼，断然说。
“是吗？你知道了，我很高兴。”
“不过，她经历了那种生活，你还能指望她改过自新吗？”
娜塔丽雅说。
他挺直身子坐在一把小椅子上，双臂没有搁在什么地方，留神听她说话，竭力好好领会她的意思，好好回答她的话。他最近一次同玛丝洛娃见面，情绪很好，心里仍充满宁静的快乐，看见什么人都很高兴。
“我不要她改过自新，我只要我自己改过自新，”他回答说。
娜塔丽雅叹了一口气。
“不结婚也有别的办法。”
“可我认为这是最好的办法。再说，这个办法可以把我带到另一个世界，我到了那里就能成为一个有益的人。”
“我认为，你不可能幸福，”娜塔丽雅说。
“我并不要个人的幸福。”
“那当然，但她要是有心肠的话，也不可能幸福，甚至不可能指望幸福。”
“她本来就不想。”
“我明白，可是生活……”
“生活怎么样？”
“生活要求的是别的东西。”
“生活没有别的要求，只要求我们做我们该做的事，”聂赫留朵夫说，瞅着她那张还很好看、只是眼角和嘴边已出现细纹的脸。
“我不明白，”她叹了一口气说。
“我可怜的亲爱的姐姐！她怎么会变成这个样子？”聂赫留朵夫记起娜塔丽雅出嫁前的样子，想。无数童年的回忆交织在心头，唤起了他对她的亲切感情。
这时候，拉戈任斯基象平时那样高高地昂起头，挺起宽阔的胸膛，轻手轻脚地走进房间。他脸上浮着微笑，他的眼镜、秃头和黑胡子都闪闪发亮。
“您好，您好！”他装腔作势地说。
（虽然拉戈任斯基婚后最初一段时期，他们竭力不拘礼节，相互用“你”称呼，但后来还是恢复用“您”。）
他们握了握手。拉戈任斯基轻快地在一把圈椅上坐下。
“我不妨碍你们谈话吗？”
“不，我说话，做事，从来不瞒着什么人。”
聂赫留朵夫一看见这张脸，一看见那双毛茸茸的手，一听见那种居高临下、自以为是的口气，他对姐夫的情意顿时消失了。
“是啊，我们在谈他的打算，”娜塔丽雅说。“给你倒一杯吗？”她拿起茶壶，添上说。
“好的。那么究竟有什么打算哪？”
“我打算跟一批犯人到西伯利亚去，因为其中有一个女人我认为我对她犯了罪，”聂赫留朵夫说。
“我听说您不仅仅陪送她，还有别的打算。”
“是的，只要她愿意，我还打算同她结婚。”
“原来如此！要是您不嫌烦的话，您给我解释解释您的动机。我不了解您的动机。”
“我的动机就是这个女人……她堕落的第一步……”聂赫留朵夫想不出恰当的措词，不由得生自己的气。“我的动机就是，我犯了罪，她却受到惩罚。”
“既然她受到惩罚，那就不会没有罪。”
“她完全没有罪。”
聂赫留朵夫情绪激动地把这事原原本本讲了一遍。
“是的，这是审判长疏忽了，弄得陪审员在答复时考虑不周。不过，这种情况还可以向枢密院提出上诉。”
“枢密院已经把上诉驳回了。”
“枢密院驳回了，这就说明上诉理由不足，”拉戈任斯基说，显然人云亦云地认为法庭口头陈述的结果就是真理。“枢密院不可能审查案情的是非曲直。要是法庭审判确实有错误，那就得上告皇上。”
“已经上告了，但毫无成功的希望。他们会向司法部查问，司法部会向枢密院查问，枢密院会重述它的裁定。这样，无罪的人还不是照样将受到惩罚。”
“第一，司法部不会向枢密院查问，”拉戈任斯基倨傲地笑着说，“司法部会向法庭直接吊卷，如果发现错误，就会加以纠正；第二，无罪的人从来不会受到惩罚，即使有，也是极少见的例外。凡是受惩罚的，总是有罪的，”拉戈任斯基不慌不忙，得意扬扬地笑着说。
“可我相信事实正好相反，”聂赫留朵夫对姐夫抱着反感说，“我相信，被法庭判刑的人，大部分是无罪的。”
“这话怎么讲？”
“我说的无罪就是没有任何罪。例如这个被控犯毒害人命罪的女人根本没有罪；还有我最近认识一个农民，被控犯杀人罪，其实他没有杀过人，什么罪也没有；还有母子两人被控犯纵火罪，其实那场火是主人自己放的，他们却差一点被定罪。”
“是的，审判错误一向有的，将来也还会有，这一点不消说。人类的机关不可能十全十美。”
“再说，有大量犯人并没有罪，只因为他们是在某种环境里成长的，他们并不认为他们的行为是犯罪。”
“对不起，您这话可没有道理。做贼的个个都知道，偷窃是不好的，不应该偷窃，偷窃是不道德的，”拉戈任斯基说，又露出那种若无其事、自命不凡和略带轻蔑的微笑，这使聂赫留朵夫更加恼火。
“不，他们不知道。人家对他们说：别偷东西，可是他们明白，工厂老板用压低工资的办法来盗窃他们的劳动，政府和政府官员用收税的方式不断地盗窃他们的财物。”
“这是无政府主义理论，”拉戈任斯基平静地说，对内弟的话下了断语。
“我不知道这是什么主义，但我说的都是事实，”聂赫留朵夫继续说，“他们知道，政府在盗窃他们的东西。他们知道，我们这些地主掠夺了应该成为公共财产的土地，一直在盗窃他们的东西。后来，他们在被盗窃的土地上捡了一些树枝当柴烧，我们就把他们关进牢里，硬说他们是贼。但他们知道，做贼的不是他们而是从他们手里盗窃土地的人，因此，让被盗窃的东西物归原主，是他们对家庭应尽的责任。”
“您的话我不明白，即使明白，也不能同意。土地非成为私有财产不可。要是您把土地分给大家，”拉戈任斯基说，断定聂赫留朵夫是个社会主义者，认为社会主义的理论就是平分全部土地，而平分土地是很愚蠢的，他可以轻易驳倒这种理论，“要是您今天把土地平分给大家，明天它又会转到勤劳能干的人手里。”
“谁也不打算把土地平分，但土地不应该成为谁的私有财产，不应该成为买卖或者租佃的对象。”
“私有财产权是人类天赋的。没有私有财产权，耕种土地就会毫无兴致。一旦消灭私有财产权，我们就会回到蛮荒时代，”拉戈任斯基振振有词地说，重复着维护私有财产权的陈词滥调。这种论调被认为是驳不倒的，中心意思就是，土地的占有欲就是土地必须私有的标志。
“正好相反，只有消灭土地私有制，土地才不会象现在这样荒废。现在地主霸占土地，就象狗占马槽一样，自己不会种，又不让会种的人种。”
“您听我说，德米特里·伊凡内奇，这简直是发疯！难道我们今天能消灭土地私有制吗？我知道这是您长期以来心心念念的一个问题。但恕我直说一句……”拉戈任斯基说到这里脸色发白，声音发抖，显然这问题打中了他的要害。“我要奉劝您在着手处理这问题以前，先好好考虑一番。”
“您说的是我的个人问题吗？”
“是的。我认为我们这些有一定地位的人，应该承担由这种地位产生的责任，应该维护我们的生活水平，那是我们从祖先手里继承下来，并且必须传给子孙后代的。”
“我认为我的责任是……”
“请您让我把话说完，”拉戈任斯基不让对方打断他的话，继续说，“我说这话不是为我自己，也不是为我的孩子们。我孩子们的生活和教育是有保障的，我挣的钱足够我们过了。而且我认为我的孩子们将来也不会过穷日子。因此，老实说，我反对您考虑不周的行为，不是出于我个人的利害得失，我是从原则出发不能同意您的见解。我劝您多考虑考虑，读点书……”
“哦，我的事您让我自己来处理吧，我自己知道什么书该读，什么书不该读，”聂赫留朵夫说，他脸色发白，同时觉得双手发凉，他控制不住自己的情绪，停下话头，喝起茶来。