nobody dares to be of a different opinion. He has this influence over
others because he believes in what he says. They are wrong, those who
consider him a sceptic. On the contrary, he is of the temperament
which makes fanatics. Had he been born a hundred years ago and been a
judge, he would have sentenced people to have their tongues cut out
for uttering blasphemy. Born as he is in the more enlightened times,
he hates what he would have loved then; but essentially it is the same
man.

I noticed that our conservatives crowded round Stawowski, not so
much out of curiosity to hear what he said as rather with a certain
watchful coquetry. Here, and maybe in other countries, this party has
little courage. They looked at the speaker with insinuating smiles, as
if they would say: "Although conservatives, nevertheless--" Ah! that
"nevertheless" was like an act of contrition, a kind of submission.
This was so evident that I who am a sceptic as to all party spirit,
began to contradict Stawowski, not as a representative of any party,
but simply as a man who is of a different opinion. My audacity excited
some astonishment. The matter in question was the position of the
working-men. Stawowski spoke of their hopeless condition, their
weakness and incapacity for defending themselves; the audience which
listened to his words grew every minute larger, when I interrupted:--

"Do you believe in Darwin's theory, the survival of the fittest?"

Stawowski, who is a naturalist by profession, took up the challenge at
once.

"Of course I do," he said.