Character: Wolf Larsen

"I could extract this person from the works of Spencer?" - I thought. Well enough remembering the teachings of this philosopher, I know that altruism is the basis of his ideal of human behavior. Obviously, Wolf Larsen took from his teachings that met his own needs and desires and rejecting everything that seemed to him superfluous.
_ What else you've learned? - I asked.
He frowned, apparently choosing his words to Express his thoughts, remaining still not expressed. I felt uplifted. Now I tried to penetrate to his soul, just as he was accustomed to penetrate into the souls of others. I researched a virgin area. And strange - strange and frightening - sight has opened my eyes.
- In short, "he began," Spencer says, first of all a man should care about their own welfare. To do so morally good. Then, he must act for the benefit of their children. And third, it needs to take care of the welfare of mankind.
- But the highest, the most reasonable and correct course of action, 'said I,' will be when people care of themselves and their children, and all mankind.
I would not say, he replied. - I do not see any need or common sense. I rule mankind and children. For their sake, I no received would. This is all slobbery nonsense - at least for someone who doesn't believe in an afterlife, and you owe it to yourself to understand. I believe in immortality, altruism would have been for me a profitable occupation. I would God knows how to exalt his soul. But, not seeing ahead nothing is eternal except death, and having at its disposal only a short time while I move and roam the yeast called life, I would do immoral, bringing any kind of sacrifice. Every sacrifice. which would deprive me of a moment of fermentation, would be not only stupid, but immoral in itself. I should not lose anything, must the best possible use of leaven. Will I have to sacrifice or will to care only about themselves at that period I measured while I make a particle of yeast and crawling on the ground after waiting for me an eternal immobility would be neither easier nor harder.
In this case, you are an individualist, a materialist, and hedonist.

- Eh, does not make you understand, not trying to tell you that this thing is life! Of course, it has the price just for herself. And I can tell you that my life is now very valuable... to me. Her right no price, although you will say that I am very overrated. But what can you do, my life determines his worth.
You see, I now have an amazing uplifting spirit. Like all times sound in me and all the powers belong to me. Like I opened the truth, and I can distinguish good from evil, truth from falsehood, and the eyes penetrate the distance. I'm almost ready to believe in God. But his voice changed and face darkened, why I'm in this state? From this joy of life? It is a hymn to life? This - let's call it so - an upgrade? All of this is simply from a good digestion, when a person's stomach in order, the healthy appetite and the entire body works well. It is the fermentation of yeast, champagne in the blood, is a fraud, a SOP, which throws us life, inspiring one high thoughts, and forcing others to see God or to create it if they can't see him. That's it: intoxication life, bubbling sourdough, senseless joy of life, drugged consciousness, she wanders, she's alive. But alas! Tomorrow I'll pay for it tomorrow I like binge drinkers, comes the hangover. Tomorrow I will remember that should I die and probably will die in the voyage; that I will cease to wander in itself, be a part of the fermentation of the sea; that I will rot; that I shall be a carrion; the strength of my muscles will go into the fins and scales of fishes. Alas! The champagne's flat. The entire game is gone from it, and it lost its taste.

I am the wind, dear sailors,
I'm fresh, powerful.
They watch in heaven
My years among the clouds.
And I run for the ship
Rather dog.
I lick night and day
All the sails.

Southern stars glitter on the light, astern the silvery trail
As a way to the sky.
Keel vreset the foam of the waves, the sail level wind full.
Keith crushes the sparkling waters.
Tackle Shine with dew in the morning,
The sun dries the covering boards.
Before us is a path, a path familiar to us,
- The way South, old friend, it is for us ever new!

After all, the person acting in obedience to his desires.

But the man is to learn to shoot him and pulls the beat right on target.

To disturb their soul can be stronger only if you climb up to them in his pocket.

You see, I too sometimes find myself wanting to be blind to the facts of life and to live with illusions and fictions. They are false, utterly false, they are contrary to common sense. And despite this, my mind tells me that the greatest pleasure in life is to dream and live illusions, even though they are false. But in the end, all enjoyment is our only reward in life. Don't be pleasure - shouldn't live. To take the trouble to live and nothing in life is not to - Yes, it's worse than being a corpse. Who more enjoys, and he lives more fully, and you all your fancies and fantasies grieve less and entertain more than me - my facts.

... Who steals my purse steals my right to life. The old adage inside out... Because he steals my bread, and my piece of meat, and my bed, and thereby endangering my life. You know that soup and bread are handed out free to the poor, enough not at all hungry, and when you have an empty wallet, it remains nothing how to die a dog's death... if it is not contrived in some way quickly your wallet to fill up.

- They are swarming, moving, but because the jellyfish move. Move to eat and eat in order to keep moving. That's the whole thing! They live for their belly, and the belly is keeping them alive. It is a vicious circle; moving it will not come. So with them happens. Sooner or later the movement stops. They are no longer crawling. They're dead.
They have dreams, interrupted I, - glittering, radiant dreams of...
- On the grub, resolutely he interrupted.
- No more...
- More about the grub. About you - as if more and more sweet to eat. His voice sounded sharply. It was not a shadow of a joke. Sure, they dream about the successful voyages that will give them more money; to become captains of the ships or find treasure - in short, about how to get better and be able to suck the juices from their neighbors to themselves all night to sleep under a roof and eat well, and all the dirty work to pass on to others. You and I are the same. There is no difference, except for the fact that we eat more and better. Now I devour them and you too. But in the past you have eaten more than I do. You have slept in soft beds, wore good clothes and ate delicious food. And who made this bed, these clothes, and these dishes? Not you. You never did anything in the sweat of his brow. You live on the income left you by the father. You, as the frigate bird, thrown from the height of the cormorants and kidnap they caught their fish. You are "one with the handful of people that created what they call government" and ruling over all other people and devouring the food which they produce themselves were not averse to eat. You wear warm clothes, and those who made the clothes, shivering in rags and still have to beg you work - you or your attorney or Trustee - in short, those who dispose of your money.

- I read immortality in your eyes, - I answered and for the experience
missed "sir"; known the intimacy of our conversation, it seemed to me,
let it go. Larsen didn't really pay attention to it.
- I suppose you want to say that I see in them something living. But is the living will not live forever.
- I read in them much more - I boldly continued.
- Well, Yes - consciousness. Consciousness, comprehension of life. But not anymore, not the infinity of life.
He was thinking clearly and well expressed thoughts. Not without a curious glance at me, he turned and set his sights on the lead sea. His eyes darkened, and his mouth emerged a sharp, harsh line. He clearly was grimly set.
- What's the point? sharply he asked, again turning to me. - If I am endowed with immortality, why?
I was silent. How could I explain to this man your idealism? How to describe something uncertain, like the music I hear in my sleep? Something quite compelling for me, but not determinable.
- What do you believe? - in turn I asked.
- I believe that life is an absurd vanity, - he said quickly. - She is like a leaven that ferments minutes, hours, years or centuries, but sooner or later ceases to wander. The big devour the small to support your fermentation. The strong devour the weak to preserve their strength. Lucky,
he eats more and walking longer than others that's all!

- What are you today so pathetic? - he began. - What's the matter?
I saw that he understands why I feel almost the same
bad as Harrison, but he wants to call me to be honest, and answered:
- I was upset with the mistreatment of this kid.
He grinned.
- Have you got something like seasickness. Some are affected, others
no.
- What is there in common? - I said.
- A lot in common, he continued. - The land are also full
cruelty, as the sea - traffic. Some do not tolerate first, others
second. That's the whole reason.
- You scoff at the human life, do not you give
her worthless? - I asked.
- The price! What is the price? He looked at me, and I read cynical
the smile in his harsh gaze. - What kind of price are you talking about? As
you define? Who appreciates life?
'I do,' I replied.
- How did you appreciate her? I mean someone else's life. What is
you expect to pay?
The price of life! How could I define it? Accustomed to clearly and freely Express
your thoughts, I'm in the presence of the Larsen somehow didn't find the right words.

- Where is your brother? What is he doing?
- He is the master of the fishing steamer "Macedonia" and preys on seals. We will probably see him off the coast of Japan. It is called the Death of Larsen.
Death Larsen? - involuntarily escaped from me. - He like you?
- Not really. He's just a dumb brute. In this, as in me, a lot... a lot...
Brutal? - I prompted.
- That's it, thank you. It less brutal than me, but he barely knows how to read and write.
Never philosophizes about life? - I added.
'No,' replied the Wolf Larsen bitterly. - And this is his happiness. He's too busy living to think about it. I made the mistake when I first opened the book.

From the point of view of supply and demand, life is the cheapest thing in the world.