Bulstrode began again. His head was sunk on his breast, and he seemed to fall into the deepest dejection.
“And you’ve got good fighting ground. I realise that every time I try in my own mind to fight this Dumb Ox.� He laid his great hand on one of the volumes before him. “There is that tremendous argument of cause and effect. All the other founders of religions—I mean the real religions, not the fanciful mythologies—were great men. Buddha and Mohammed would have been great men had they never broached the subject of religion; and they had a lifetime to work in. And then comes this Jewish carpenter, and he does nothing—absolutely nothing—except preach for a little while in the most obscure corner of the Roman Empire, and is executed for some shadowy offence against the ecclesiastical law, and behold! his name is better known than the greatest conqueror, the wisest philosopher that ever lived. Where one man knows of Aristotle, a thousand know of him. Now, how could such an enormous effect come from such a trifling cause? Who was this carpenter, with his new doctrine of democracy—socialism, if you will—the rights of the masses; and the masses didn’t know they had any rights until then!
“Most of you half-taught fellows find your arguments in the code of morals; but although, as I see, the code is ideally far superior to any other, yet all are good; there were good morals taught ever since man came upon the earth, for good morals means ordinary common sense.
“But this religion of the carpenter is peculiar. It does for thinkers, and for the innumerable multitudes of the ages that don’t think and can’t think. It’s wonderful, and it may be true. And, Conyers, if I were a good man, instead of a worthless dog, I would not give up the belief for all the kingdoms of the earth.�
Bulstrode got up then and went away again.
Conyers sat, turning over in his mind the curious circumstance that all of his so-called theological training that was meant to convince him of the truths of religion was so badly stated, so confusedly reasoned, that it opened the way to a fiendish company of doubts; while Bulstrode, who frankly declared his wish that there might be no future life, helped, by his very fears, to make Conyers a better Christian than before.
When Bulstrode returned, the odour of brandy was stronger than ever; he went to the brandy bottle for fortitude as naturally as Conyers went to his Bible.
But his eye was brighter, his gait was less slouching, and a new courage seemed to possess him.
Before this he had turned his back to the library door, and in his two expeditions after consolation Conyers noticed that he had walked as far away from that door as possible. But now he boldly went towards the library, and went in and stayed a considerable time.
When he returned he sat down trembling, and his eyes filled with tears.