On the eve of that day Bishop Feofan had visitors.
In his Latin letters, Feofan termed such assemblies “noctes atticae.” Pickles and fumados were served and washed down with the famous beer brewed by Father Gerasem, that stout economist. They discoursed on philosophy and the “laws of nature” in a free “liberal” tone, that is, they talked atheism.
Tichon listened to the conversation from the glazed gallery which united the dining room with the library.
“Disputes on the subject of faith can never arise between men of great intelligence,” Bruce was saying, “for an intelligent man does not question the faith of another. Be he Lutheran, Calvinist or Pagan, it is not the faith but the actions and character alone which count.”
“Ubi boni vini non est quaerenda regio, sic nec boni viri religio et patria,” replied Feofan.
“Those who condemn philosophy are either ignorant or else over-cunning priests,” remarked Basil Nikitch Tatesheff, President of the Mine Department.
Father Marcellus, a learned monk, demonstrated that many of the records of the lives of saints are without foundation in fact.
“There is much deception, much deception”; he repeated the celebrated saying of Theodosius.
“Miracles don’t happen nowadays,” agreed Doctor Blumentrost.
“I went to see a friend recently,” began Tolstoi with a malicious smile, “and there I met two non-commissioned officers. They were arguing together. One affirmed, the other denied the existence of God. The free-thinker cried, ‘Don’t waste your breath, there is no God.’ I joined in the conversation and asked, ‘Who told you that God did not exist?’ ‘Sub-lieutenant Ivanoff told it me so yesterday, at the Gostinni-Dvor.’ ‘He has chosen a nice place to announce it in, indeed,’ said I.”