"Only the bottomless naïvete of the conservatives," he said, "is capable of demanding from a revolution reason and goodness. It is the same as demanding, for instance, of a conflagration that it should be gentle and sensible. Every revolution is the child of the passions--unreason and rage--and not of love. Its aim is to blow up the old forms of folly and evil and forcibly introduce into life the new." "And how do you picture to yourself the new?" "In reality as also foolish and wicked--but new. Upon such transitions our history is based, and even the annals of mankind in general." "That is the philosophy of despair." "Or of laughter." "If of laughter, then it is egoism." "Yes, that is so. My partisanship begins with me and ends with me." Gronski impatiently smacked his lips; while the editor took off his spectacles and, winking with his eyes, began to wipe them with a handkerchief. "I beg pardon," he said with great phlegm. "Your party affiliations may be very interesting but I wanted to speak of others." "Less interesting--" But the old journalist turned to Gronski. "Our socialists," he said, "have undertaken the reconstruction of a new house, forgetting that we live huddled together in only a few rooms, and that in the others dwell strangers who will not assent to it; or rather, on the contrary, they will permit the demolition of those few rooms, but will not allow their reconstruction." "Then it is better to blow up the whole structure with dynamite," interjected Swidwicki. But this remark was passed over in silence; after which Gronski said: "One thing directly astonishes me, and that is that the conservatives turn with the greatest rage not against the revolutionists, but against the national patriots, who do not desire a revolution and who alone have sufficient strength to prevent it. I understand that a foreign bureaucracy does this, but why should our patres conscripti clear the way in this for them?" The editor replaced the spectacles, wetted his finger in the tea seeking the cup, afterwards raised it to his lips, drank, and replied: "The reason of that is their greater blindness and sense." "Please explain!" exclaimed Swidwicki, who was a little impressed by this reply. And the neighbor from Zalesin, who eagerly listened to the words of the journalist, asked: "How is that, sir benefactor? I do not understand."