Sacred Hunger - Barry Unsworth [159]
At this the surgeon rose in his turn and began pacing to and fro across the room. ‘It never mattered what I did, as far as only myself was concerned,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter now. I don’t care what becomes of me. But I had no right … I should not have argued in favour of the mind just now, that was only for argument’s sake – I still have that vice. It was my insistence on opinion, concealed under the appearance of a desire for truth, that ruined me and killed my wife. Yes, sir, killed her.’ Paris nodded fiercely, as if he thought the other might attempt to contradict him. ‘By my arrogant folly I killed her and the child she was carrying.’ He paused to drink what was left in his glass, though hardly aware of the action.
‘We lived in Norfolk,’ he said, ‘where I practised as a surgeon-apothecary. I became interested in fossil remains and what they can tell us about the age of the earth, and also in the evidence of rises and falls of the earth’s surface through long ages of time. I began to form a collection of marine fossils, some of them found high above the level of the sea. The existence of these cannot be reconciled with the account of creation given to us in the Bible. So far, if it had been a mere question of my private studies, all would have been well. There are men of science all over Europe quietly forming their opinions on such matters. But I, sir, I had to air my discoveries and opinions. I acquired a printing press and issued pamphlets in which I championed the views of Maupertuis. Perhaps you are acquainted with his work?’
‘Not even with his name, I am afraid,’ Delblanc said. ‘I have not taken much interest in such matters.’
‘He is a man of genius.’ Despite his distress, Paris’s tone had quickened with admiration for this hero of his youth. ‘His name has been obscured by misapprehension and envy, but one day his worth will be known. By his investigations into heredity he has shown how, from two individuals only, the multiplication of the most dissimilar species could grow, owing their origin to some accidental formation, an error you could say, each error creating a new species …’
‘But that would mean that we ourselves are the result of error also, that we need not have been as we are.’
‘Yes, some different accidents might have occurred. Or so Maupertuis would say. Something impossible to imagine … I was greatly struck by these ideas when first I read them; they seemed to offer an explanation of the diversity of creatures, something which had always puzzled me. And they confirmed my own conclusions about the age of the earth, because such changes would have needed great periods of time to accomplish.’
Paris paused, swallowing at some impediment. ‘Great periods of time,’ he repeated, in a voice that trembled slightly – they were dear to his memory, these early studies and speculations, his desk in the lamplight, Ruth busy somewhere not far. ‘I published these theories,’ he went on after a moment. ‘They run counter to orthodox opinion and especially to the teachings of the Church. I was warned, not only by those who were hostile, but by friends and colleagues. Yes, I was well warned. But I paid no heed.’ Paris stopped his pacing and stood still in the centre of the room, looking fixedly at Delblanc, who sat out of the candle-light, his face in shadow. ‘I was clad in the armour of truth,’ the surgeon said. ‘Or so I thought. Or so I pretended to think.’ He tried to smile but failed. ‘In fact, I was merely obstinate and overweening, vices which I have still. I was arrested on a complaint of the Bishop of Norwich. The judge was in the Church Interest. He found me guilty of issuing a seditious publication, imposed a fine beyond my means and consigned me to prison until it was paid. My uncle redeemed the debt when he learned of it, but while I lay in prison a mob set on by the Church Party broke into my house with a view to smashing the press and in the course of this they terrified my