“How is that?  I don’t understand——­” asked Ignatius Nikiforovitch, with a forced smile.

“I mean to say that there are only two sensible modes of punishment—­those that have been used in olden times:  corporal punishment and capital punishment.  But with the advance of civilization they have gone out of existence.”

“That is both new and surprising to hear from you.”

“Yes, there is sense in inflicting pain on a man that he might not repeat that for which the pain was inflicted; and it is perfectly sensible to cut the head off a harmful and dangerous member of society.  But what sense is there in imprisoning a man, who is depraved by idleness and bad example, and keeping him in secure and compulsory idleness in the society of the most depraved people?  Or to transport him, for some reason, at an expense to the government of five hundred roubles, from the District of Tula to the District of Irkutsk, or from Kursk——­”

“But people seem to fear these journeys at government expense.  And were it not for these journeys, we would not be sitting here as we are sitting now.”

“Prisons cannot secure our safety, because people are not imprisoned for life, but are released.  On the contrary, these institutions are the greatest breeders of vice and corruption—­i. e., they increase the danger.”

“You mean to say that the penitentiary system ought to be perfected?”

“It cannot be perfected.  Perfected prisons would cost more than is spent on popular education and would be a new burden on the populace.”

“But the deficiencies of the penitentiary system do not invalidate the judicial system,” Ignatius Nikiforovitch again continued, without listening to his brother-in-law.

“These deficiencies cannot be corrected,” said Nekhludoff, raising his voice.

“What then?  Would you kill?  Or, as a certain statesman suggested, pluck out their eyes?” said Ignatius Nikiforovitch, smiling triumphantly.

“Yes; that would be cruel, but expedient.  What we are doing now is both cruel and inexpedient.”

“And I am taking part in it,” said Ignatius Nikiforovitch, paling.

“That is your business.  But I do not understand it.”

“I think there are many things you do not understand,” said Ignatius Nikiforovitch, with a quiver in his voice.

“I saw a public prosecutor in court trying his utmost to convict an unfortunate boy, who could only arouse compassion in any unperverted man——­”

“If I thought so, I should give up my position,” said Ignatius Nikiforovitch, rising.

Nekhludoff noticed a peculiar glitter under his brother-in-law’s eye-glasses.  “Can it be tears?” thought Nekhludoff.  They really were tears.  Ignatius Nikiforovitch was offended.  Going toward the window, he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, coughed, and began to wipe his eye-glasses, and, removing them, he also wiped his eyes.  Returning to the couch, Ignatius Nikiforovitch lit a cigar and spoke no more.  Nekhludoff was pained and ashamed at the grief that he had caused his brother-in-law and sister, especially as he was leaving the next day and would not see them again.  In great agitation he took leave of them and departed.