“‘You seem to be very happy, Kirillov,’ said Stavrogin. “‘Yes, very happy,’ he answered, as though making the most ordinary reply. “‘But you were distressed so lately, angry with Liputin?’ “‘H’m!... I’m not scolding now, I didn’t know then I was happy. Have you seen a leaf, a leaf from a tree?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘I saw one lately, a little green. It was decayed at the edges. It was blown by the wind. When I was ten years old I used to shut my eyes in the winter on purpose and fancy a green leaf, bright, with veins on it, and the sun shining. I used to open my eyes and not believe them, because it was very nice, and I used to shut them again.’ “‘What’s that? An allegory?’ “‘N-no.... Why? I’m not speaking of an allegory, but of a leaf, only a leaf. The leaf is good: everything’s good.’ “‘When did you find out you were so happy?’ “‘Last week, on Tuesday--no, Wednesday, for it was Wednesday by that time, in the night.’ “‘By what reasoning?’ “‘I don’t remember. I was walking about the room ... never mind. I stopped my clock. It was thirty-seven minutes past two.’”[100] But, you may well contend, if feeling is to overcome thought, and the soul know no state but this vague expectancy susceptible to every outside influence, what can result except complete anarchy? It has been said, and of late more frequently, that anarchy is the consummation of Dostoevsky’s doctrine. A discussion of his beliefs would lead us into a far country, for I can anticipate the storm of protest I should provoke if I dared affirm that Dostoevsky does not plunge us into anarchy, but simply and naturally leads us to the Gospels. On this point we must be clear. Christian doctrine as contained in the New Testament is usually seen by people of our nation through the medium of the Roman Catholic Church, as she has modified it, moreover, in harmony with her own needs. Now, Dostoevsky abhors all churches, the Church of Rome in particular. He claims it his right to accept Christ’s teaching directly from the Scriptures, and from them alone, which is precisely what the Catholic cannot possibly concede. In his letters we come across countless passages inveighing against the Roman Catholic Church, accusations so vehement and so categorical that I dare not repeat them to you here. But they confirm the general impression I gather at each fresh reading of Dostoevsky and help me to a better understanding of him. I know no author at once more Christian and less Catholic in spirit. “But you have put your finger on the very crux of the question,” Roman Catholics will say, “and you have yourself explained it, many and many a time, seemingly with full understanding. The Gospels, the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, considered apart, lead but to anarchy, whence the need for St. Paul, for the Church, for Catholicism as a whole....” I shall not attempt to argue with them.