At last you see why behind Kirillov’s talk, which seemed at first hearing somewhat incoherent, we succeed in discerning what was the philosophy of Dostoevsky himself. I am conscious how far I am from having exhausted the teaching that can be found in his books. I insist once more on the fact that I have sought, consciously or unconsciously, what had most intimate connection with my own ideas. Others no doubt will be able to discern different things. And now that I am come to the end of my last paper, you are awaiting, I am sure, a conclusion of some kind from me. Whither does Dostoevsky lead us? What precisely is his teaching? Some will say that he leads us straight to Bolshevism, although they know the horror Dostoevsky professed for anarchy. The whole of _The Possessed_ prophesies the revolution of which Russia is at present in the throes. But every man who, in defiance of existing systems, contributes new _tables of values_ is bound to seem, in the eyes of the conservative, an anarchist. Conservative and nationalist, deigning to see no more than what is chaotic in Dostoevsky, conclude he can be of no service whatsoever to us. To which my reply is that their opposition seems to do great hurt to the genius of France. By our unwillingness to accept anything foreign unless it reflects our system and logic, our whole likeness, in short, we err most grievously. His conception of beauty happens to differ from our Mediterranean standards, and were the divergence even greater, of what use would our national genius be, how could we apply our logic practically, unless in instances which clamour for regulation? In meditating none but her own likeness, the reflection of her past, France is exposed to a mortal danger. Let me explain my meaning as accurately and temperately as possible. It is well that France should have conservative elements reacting and taking a stand against what savours of foreign invasion. But what justifies the existence of these elements if not this fresh contribution without which French culture would ere long be nothing but a hollow form, a hardened shell? What do they know of France’s genius? What _do_ we know, except its past? It is the same with national feeling as with the Church. I mean the conservative elements often mete out to genius the same treatment as the Church to her saints at times. Many who were rejected, repulsed, denied in the name of tradition, are become its very corner-stones. My opinion of intellectual protectionism I have often voiced: I believe it presents a great peril; on the other hand, any essay in intellectual denationalization involves a risk no less considerable. I am merely expressing what was Dostoevsky’s finding likewise. There never was an author more Russian in the strictest sense of the word and withal so universally European. Because it is essentially Russian, his humanity is all-embracing and touches each one of us personally.