Again he paused. ‘Who art thou? What art thou? Thou seest thyself as a wise man because thou wast able to pronounce such words of blasphemy,’ he said with a dark, sardonic smile, ‘whereas thou art more foolish and artless than a small child who plays with the parts of an ingeniously constructed watch and dares to say that because he does not know what the watch is for, he will not believe in the creator who made it. He is not easy to know. Down the ages, from our forefather Adam to our day we have been working towards this knowledge, and are still infinitely distant from the attainment of our goal, but in our lack of understanding we see only our own weakness and His greatness . . .’
Pierre’s heart thrilled to these words as he gazed with shining eyes into the mason’s face. He listened without interrupting or asking any questions, and with all his soul he believed what this stranger was saying to him. Whether he was believing rational arguments coming from the mason, or trusting more like a child in the persuasive intonation, the sense of authority, the sincerity of the words spoken, the quavering voice that sometimes seemed on the verge of breaking down, or the gleaming aged eyes grown old in that conviction, or the tranquillity, the certainty and true sense of vocation radiating from the old man’s whole being and striking Pierre very forcibly, given the state of his own debasement and despair – whatever was happening to him, he longed to believe with all his soul, and he did believe and he felt a joyful sense of calm, renewal and return to life.
‘He is attained not through reason, but through living,’ said the mason.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Pierre, dismayed at the doubts surging up inside him. Put off by the vagueness and weakness of the freemason’s arguments, he felt the dread of unbelief. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, ‘why human reason cannot attain the knowledge you speak of.’
The freemason smiled his gentle, fatherly smile.
‘The highest wisdom and truth is like unto the purest liquid which we try to absorb into ourselves,’ he said. ‘Can I receive that pure liquid into an impure vessel and judge of its purity? Only through the inner purification of myself can I bring the liquid received within me to some degree of purity.’
‘Yes, yes. That’s it!’ said Pierre joyfully.
‘The highest wisdom is founded not on reason alone, not on the worldly sciences – physics, history, chemistry and the like – into which intellectual knowledge is divided. The highest wisdom is one. The highest wisdom knows only a single science – the science of the whole, the science that explains the whole of creation and the place of mankind within it. In order to assimilate this science it is necessary to purify and renew the inner self, and so, before we can know, we must have faith and be made perfect. And for the attainment of these aims we have had implanted into our souls the light of God, which is called conscience.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Pierre assented.
‘Look with a spiritual eye into thine inner being, and ask thyself whether thou art content with thyself. What hast thou achieved relying on intellect alone? What art thou? My dear sir, you are a young man, you are wealthy and well educated. What have you done with the blessings vouchsafed you? Are you satisfied with yourself and your life?’
‘No, I loathe my life,’ said Pierre with a frown.
‘Thou loathest it. Then change it. Purify thyself, and as thou art purified, so shalt thou come to know wisdom. Look at your life, sir. How have you been spending it? In riotous orgies and debauchery, taking everything from society and giving nothing back. You have received wealth. How have you used it? What have you done for your neighbour? Have you given a thought to your slaves, tens of thousands of them? Have you succoured them physically and morally? No. You have profited from their labour to lead a dissipated life. This is what you have done. Have you chosen a career in the service where you might be of use to your neighbour? No. You have spent your life in idleness. And then you married, sir, taking responsibility for guiding a young woman through life, and what did you do? You did not help her, my dear sir, to discover the path of truth, you thrust her down into the abyss of deception and misery. Someone offended you and you shot him, and you now tell me that you know not God and you loathe your life. There is nothing strange in this, my dear sir.’
This said, the mason leant back again on the sofa and closed his eyes, as though exhausted by too much talking. Pierre gazed at that austere, unflinching, ancient, almost death-like face, and moved his lips without making a sound. What he wanted to say was, ‘Yes, mine is a foul, idle, profligate life,’ but he dared not break the silence. The mason sounded like an old man as he cleared his throat gruffly and called his servant.
‘Any horses?’ he asked, ignoring Pierre.
