I asked, 'How did the babka cure the crying fit?' 'She set him on the hen-roost, and muttered something.'"
"Well there!" cried Sviazhsky, laughing heartily. "You yourself confess it. In order to teach them that they can't cure children by setting them on hen-roosts, you must ...."
"Ah no!" interrupted Levin, with some vexation. "Your remedy of schools for the people I only compared to the babka's method of curing. The peasantry are poor and uncivilized; this we see as plainly as the woman saw her child's distress because he was crying. But that schools can raise them from their wretchedness is as inconceivable as the hen-roost cure for sick children. You must first remedy the cause of the poverty."
"Well! In this at least you agree with Spencer, whom you do not like. He says that civilization can result from increased happiness and comfort in life, from frequent ablutions, but not by learning to read and cipher." ....
"There now! I am very glad, or rather very sorry, if I am in accord with Spencer. But this I have felt for a long time: schools cannot help; the only help can come from some economical organization, whereby the peasantry will be richer, will have more leisure. Then schools also will come."
"Nevertheless, schools are obligatory now all over Europe."
"But how would you harmonize this with Spencer's ideas?" asked Levin.
But into Sviazhsky's eyes again came the troubled expression; and he said with a smile:—
"No, this story of the crying fit was capital! Is it possible that you heard it yourself?"
Levin saw that there was no connection between this man's life and his thoughts. Evidently it was perfectly indifferent to him where his conclusions led him. Only the process of reasoning was what appealed to him; and it was disagreeable to him when this process of reasoning led him into some stupid, blind alley. This
