,

PROGRESS RU SSIAN CLASSICS SERIES

•
ALEXANDER­
HERZEN

Who Is to Blame ?

A novel in two parts

PR OGRESS PUBLISHERS
MOSC OW
Translated from the Russian by Margaret Wettlin

A. f EPUEH

Kro BHHOBar?

Ha aHzlluikKOM .R3b!Ke

English translation © Progress Publishers 19 7 8 . lllustrated

Printed in the Unzon of Soviet Socialist Republics

70301-575
137- 77
r 014 (O
l) -78
CONTENTS

Page

PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

INTRODUCTION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19

PART ONE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 5

PART TWO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . : 161

PREFACE

Alexander Ivanovich Herzen (1812-1870)

was one o f Russia's m ost outs tanding thinkers,
wri ters and revolu tionaries of th e middle of the
19th century. Lenin spoke of him as a w riter
who played a leading role in prep aring th e w ay
for Rus sian revolu tion. Herzen devoted all his
energies and manifold talents to this task of
p reparation. All Russia was stirred by his
p o l i t i c a l and j ournalistic activities abro ad ,
e specially by the fam ous revolutionary news­
paper Kolokol (The Bell), he published in
London.
His artistic writings not only give us a broad
an d vivid picture of the spiritual and in tellectual
life o f Ru ssia and Western Europe of that time ;
their ennobling and enlightening influence is felt
to this day .
Herzen 's writings have been comp ared (and
with good reason) with Voltaire's philosophical
fiction and with Heine 's p rose.
Gorky wrote o f him : "Herzen was the first
Rus sian thinke r; no one befo re him studied
Russian life so deeply and from s o many sides.

9
His mind is dis tinguished for its penetration as his l angu age
is for its beauty and b rilliance . . . . "
Herzen's prose is largely lyrical. He wrote as he
thought, felt and spoke : cle arly , cleverly , imagin atively ,
with vivacity and expression and with easy spontan eity . He
c ombined the purp oseful energy of an ideological leader
wi th rich emotional life; a strong mind with genial
humour; wi t and j ocularity with n obility and moral
rectitude; depth of concept with perfection o f form;
unerring logic with the keen vision of an artist. He had a
right to assert that he "lived in all dire cti on s " .
Herzen as m an an d writer made a p ro found impre ssion
on such exacting critics as Belinsky , Tu rgenev, Lev T ols toy
and Victor Hugo. Lev T olstoy sai d : " He is a writer wh ose
art is equ al if not superior to that of our best. " Victor
Hugo was delighted with him: "There could b e n o l oftier
heart, no nobler m ind . . . . I am grate ful for those marks of
sympathy he accords me. "
On making the acquaintance o f Alexander Herz en and
his activities, one marvels , first and fore m o st , that th e aim s
h e pursued so loyally, unwaveringly and with complete
dedication to the end of his d ay s should h av e b een
embraced by him when little more th an an adole scent.
Herzen was raised in the home of I . A. Y akovlev, a rich
Moscow aristocrat. He was considered illegitimate sin ce
Yakovlev never married Herzen's mother, Luisa Haag of
Stuttgart, though he lived with her for many years .
Herzen's last name, given him by his p arents, p robably
was taken from the German w ord Herz meaning heart.
Y akovlev was fond of his son in his own way b u t took
little interest in his educ ation , allowing him to freely
indulge his interests and inclinations provided he observed
all the proprieties: Herzen had access to h is fath er' s ex­
tensive library , richly stocked with w orks by 18th century
European enligh tened au thors , from Schiller to Beaum ar­
chais.
Thanks to his teacher of Russian literature , Herzen at
an early age came to love Pushkin ' s p oetry , with its call to
freedom and its dedication to man's rich and varied deve­
lopme nt.
In his father's home, in the circle of h is father' s
friends, m the drawing-rooms o f M o scow's aristocratic

10
intelligentsia and in the university , which he entered in
1829, Herzen met with b old thinkers such as P. Y. Chaada­
yev, and with people on whom the gre at h istorical events
o f the epoch had left a vivid mark , people who had taken
part in the defe at of Napoleon in 1812 and wh o had
sympathised with the Decemb ris t m ovemen t.*
In his early y outh Herzen formed a friendship with the
future poet Ogarev, which w as to last all his life . In the
forties the great Russian l iterary critic Belinsky was to be a
memb e r of Herzen's circle, as were Schepkin , the gre atest
actor o f his day, and the liberal-minded histo rian Gran ovsky .
In the home of his father, a harsh , despotic serf-owner,
Herzen s aw h ow serfdom mutilated human lives and this,
combined with his reading, the reverberations of the
D ecemb rist uprising, and his acquaintance with socialist
ideas, developed in him, as he himself was to say , " a
deadly hatred for slavery in any form and for any
tyranny . "
While still very young h e took part in the Russian
movement for the emancipation o f the se rfs, a m ovement
whose members at that time were m ostly representatives
of enlightened aristocracy. But revolutionary groups could
not smvive for long in the conditions of h arsh police
s u r v e i l l a n c e following the Decembrist uprising. All
advanced intellectuals were held suspect and any emanci­
pato ry activities entailed severe punishment. Herzen w as to
su ffer pers ecution as well. In 1835 he was banished from
the capital and s ent to a provincial town. In 1 841, soon
after his return to S t. Petersburg, he w as e xiled a se cond
time.
His years o f exile dragged ou t inte rmin ably . He suf­
fered cruelly from the absence of friend s who w ere his
intellectual peers, from having to live d ay after d ay in the
vulgar and stifling atm osphere of the provinces , from the
tedium o f work in g in an o ffice who se petty and dishonest
practices were repugnant to h im , yet from which he could
not e scape for Nicholas I had sentenced him to e nforced
service as a clerk in a provincial office.

* The Decembrists were Russian revolutionary aristocrat's who

led an uprising against the tsarist governmen t in 1825.-(Ed.)

11
 Herzen was morally sustained during his ordeal by his
correspondence with Natalia Zakharina, one of those
remarkable 19th century Russian women endowed with
extraordinary strength of character. She was convinced
that the man she loved would yet find a field of activity
worthy of his talent. In 1838 she became Herzen's wife
and he took her away from her "benefactress" and
guardian, the pious fraud Princess Khovan·sk aya.
In 1842 Herzen returned to Moscow, where at last he
gave himself up to manifold activities equal to his gifts.
The outstanding philosophical works he wrote in the
forties Dilettantism in Science (1842-1843 ) and Letters on
the S tudy of Nature (1844-1846) as well as his fiction Who
Is to Blame ? , The Thieving Magpie and Doctor Krupov
and his newspaper articles berating reactionaries---:- all of
them contributed to the cause of Russia's p olitical
enlightenment. Herzen reinforced advanced thought w ith
theory ; he presented a dramatic and compelling picture of
the searchings necessary for the triumph o f knowledge ; he
called upon men to creatively apply the achievements of
world philosophical thought. Using artistic means, he
posed the question of what the most advanced man o f the
age should be like. He poetically sang the praises of the
struggle of mind and will against the oppression of an
·

autocratic regime.
In the forties of the 19th century Russia was ruled by
a heartless and venal militarist bureaucracy headed by
Nicholas I. Landowners mercilessly exploited their serfs.
The ruling class did everything in its p ower to impede the
country's enlightenment. Education and culture w ere
stifled.
In such conditions advanced intellectuals felt that they
represented the true interests of the nation, of the Russian
people, and this awareness inspired t?em to struggle
against all-powerful tsarism, in which struggle they scored
important moral victories.
One such victory was Herzen's novel Who Is to Blame?
published in 1845-1846.
In this novel, one of Herzen's first published w orks,
the reader is strikingly aware of the au thor's personality .
Herz.en himself is on the page, frankly and directly inter­
ruptmg the flow of the story, interposing his own opinion
12
of the characters, giving free play to his irony and sarcasm,
commenting upon the fate of the characters with gentle
lyricism or scathing satire. As for the development of the
plot, it was of secondary interest to Herzen.
This early novel is an intimation o f the artistic q ualities
that came to full flowering in his great autobiography The
Past and Reflect£ons.
Belinsky wrote: "The author of Who Is to Blame?
possesses the miraculous power of elevating the mind to
poetry, of emb odying ideas in characters, of transforming
o bservations into dramatic action." The message of
Herzen's novel is "the idea of human worth degraded by
prr.judices and ignorance, degraded at times by man's
injustice to his fellowman, and at times by his voluntary
humiliation of himself".
The complete, all-sided development of every indi­
vidual is the ideal for Herzen. He examines his characters
for two things: first, their inherent qualities and potential­
ities of development; secondly , the external circumstances
and personal traits obstructing this development. For that
reason every portrait drawn in the novel is more than j ust
an individual image. Herzen links his characters with their
environment, with the fate of Russia and of mankind.
His appraisal of his characters is that of a representative
of the avant-garde of his day whose viewpoint is well
expressed in his own words: "We can respe<;t only those
who, having made their choice with heart and mind,
pursue it in defiance of all obstacles and injuries to them­
selves; in a word, those who, having the courage to act and
accept the consequences of their acts, achieve the good ,
the genuine life."
It was precisely because Herzen himself had achieved
the good, the genuine life, that he concentrated his atten­
tion on those who had not, such as Vladimir Beltov, the
hero of Who Is to Blame ? whose example was mean t as a
warning to his readers, against the danger of a wasted life ,
as a means of facilitating their spiritual and ideological
growth.
We must remember that at that time such advanced
thinkers as Herzen and Belinsky were the exception in
Russia. Furthermore, the censor did not allow authors to
depict advanced thinkers.
13
 In describing his artistic meth od, the author of Who Is
to Blame ? wrote : " I am always fascinated by the biogra­
phies of p eople I meet. The lives of ordinary m en app ear
on the surface to be alike, but th at is only on the surface ;
nothing is more original and diversified than the biogra­
phies of ordinary people , especially. when , n o t united by a
common idea, each develops in his own w ay . "
This ide a i s full of deep m eaning. Herzen p erceived
that by driving the spiritual life underground , the t wofold
scourge of tsarism and serfdom prevented p eople of o ne
min d from j oining together in significan t numbers; it
served, on the contrary, to keep in tellectuals in individual
isolati on. In his diary of 1843 he wrote : "There is o ne
common tie: everybody is convinced that the times are
bad; but e ach is left to his own devices in seeking a w ay
out.' '
Beltov, the hero of this novel, is also e ngrossed in seek­
ing a way out of his intellectual and spiritual l oneliness. He
is what Russian literary cri tics call " a superflu ous m an " ,
such as those others so b rillian tly p re sented i n Russian
l i t e r a t u r e : P u s h k i n ' s Eugene Onegin , Lerm ontov's
Pechorin, Turgenev's Rudin and Goncharov's Raisky , to
name only the most outstanding.
This type is represented in West European literature as
well, in French literature , to be explicit, by C onstan t's
Adolphe and Alfred de Musset's Oc tave . It is, h ow ever,
m u ch more comm on in Russian li terature p recisely
because the opp ortunities for talented Ru ssian in telle ctuals
to apply their p owers were so limited.
B eltov, a man still y oung, an aristocrat, a rich lan d­
owner who had received an ex cellen t e ducation, could find
no field in which to use his uncommon abilities, h is wide
kn owledge , his elevated ideas, his e xcellent mind and
abundant energy . He was drawn to civil activities, to
"participation in public affairs , in the m aking of current
history . " Herzen clearly hints that Beltov longed to t ake
part in p olitics, but found himself sucked into th e mire of
petty office drudgery. This he dropped quickly . Beltov
achieved nothing of imp ortance in art and sch olarly
pursuits either. In whatever field he tried his h an d h e
turned o u t t o b e a dilettante-clever and gifted b u t incap ­
able of throwing himself wholly , selflessly , into any

14
 activity or cause. He was " . . . doomed to destroy his own
vast p owers and vast depth of understanding."
Yet on the background of the life of those days,
especially in the provinces, a man of Beltov's brilliance,
charm, breadth of view and interest, could not fail to draw
attention to himself.
The novel tells of the consequences of his making the
acquaintance of the Krutzifersky family. The wife, Luba
Krutziferskaya, was stronger, more consistent and talented
than her husband, a man who had come to a dead end,
incapable of further development.
In Beltov Luba Krutziferskaya recognised a person
whose equal she had never met before. She believed in his
"powers of action" and took delight in all the new ideas
that were awakened in her mind by meeting him. Accord­
ing to Gorky, she was "the first woman in Russian literatu­
re whose actions proved her independence and strength of
character" .
The powerful feeling that developed between these
two kindred souls brough t the idyll of the Krutziferskys'
quiet, secluded family life, to a tragic end. The social
circumstances that made a "superfluou s man" of Beltov
determined the fate of Luba and Dmitry Krutzifersky as
well.
These are the three main characters of Who Is to
Blame ? but the reader will meet with other vivid perso­
nages of that time, with precise descriptions of situations
and conflicts taken from daily life, and will hear the voice
of the author, sometimes jovial, sometimes sorrowful, but
always filled with genuine compassion for human beings
and interest in their destinies.
Herzen provides an unambiguous answer to the ques­
tion posed in the title. The conditions of life in serf­
owning Russia are to blame for the ruin of talented, high­
minded people.
Herzen, however, attributed some of the blame to
those "superfluous" people themselves, those aristocratic
intellectuals who could not apply their forces for the
propagation of progressive ideas and the betterment of
their native land. He himself did find such an application.
He left Russia in 184 7-not to escape the vengeance of the
tsaris t state but to be able, in exile, to broaden the scale of
15
his revolutionary activities. That is why his portrait o f
Beltov can b e accepted as a warning, an atte mp t to in­
fluence the behaviour of those who m ay not b e p rodigie s
o f strength but are gifted and h ave nob le aspirations. On
meeting Beltov after a long separation, his old tutor s aid :
"It is struggle that gives meaning to life . "
Beltov ' s life lacked that meaning b u t Herz en's w as
wholly dedicated to the struggle· for a free and demo cratic
Russia. The novel Who Is to Blam e ? represents one o f the
first steps taken by the author on h is revolution ary p ath .
If we consider this novel in the context o f the h istory
o f Russian literature and culture, we see th at it reflects
complex p attern peculiar to all Russian dem ocratic and
socialist culture. It consists in art and philo sophy, litera­
ture and politics, always going h an d in hand. Herz en the
avant- garde thinker and Herzen the realistic artist are
inseparable in Who Is to Blame ?
In this novel as well as i n h is philo sophical works o f
those years (one o f which , Dilettan tism in Art i s a p hiloso­
phical analysis o f the sort o f intellectual phenomenon
Beltov repre sente d ) Herzen contributed to the develop­
ment of the Russian literary language which , according to
h im , was capable of "exp ressing the most abstract
concepts of German metaphysics as well as the light,
scintillating play o f French wit".
In Herzen's realistic prose, as in that of o th e r gre at
Russian writers o f the 19th cen tury , w e find th e s ynthe tic
develop ment of traditions of various p eriods o f world
literature , a thing which enab led Ru ssian literature to
achieve a new and hitherto u nknown u nity .
This novel combines exac t and concrete de scri p tions o f
daily l i fe i n Gogol's manner with lucid philo sophical
generalisations in the spirit o f the Enligh tenment, and with
a lyricism typical of Herzen's romantic leanings of the
thirties.
Who Is to Blame ? is a classic o f Russian realist pro se
of the firs t half of the 1 9th' cen tury .

Ya..Elsberg
ToNatalia Alexandrovna Herzen
As a mark of the author's devotion.
Moscow, 1846
 Insofar as the culprit has not
been discovered, this case is
to be consigned to the will of
God, and all the data relating
to it, to the archives.
Court Record

Who I s to Blame ? was my first novel to be published. I

began it during my exile in Novgorod (in 1841) and
finished it much later in Moscow.
I made two e arlier attempts to produce something like
a novel but one of them was never completed and the
other was not a novel. Soon after my transference from
Vyatka to Vladimir I hoped that by writing a novel I could
appease reproachful memories, come to terms with myself
and cover a certain feminine image with flowers so as not
to see the tears.
It is not hard to guess that I did not cope with my
task ; the unfinished work was insufferably fatuous
and could boast of only two or three good p ages. Subse­
quently one of my friends used to threaten me by saying:
"If you do not write another article for me I will print
your novel; it is in my possession. " Fortunately he did not
carry out his threat.
At the end o f 1840 a fragment from my No te s o f a
Young Man was published in Oteche stvenn iy e Zapisk i.
This fragment, called "The Town of Malinov and Its
Inhabitants", found favour with a large number of readers;
as for the rest of the book, it was too obviously influenced
by Heine's Reisebilder.
2* 19
 That "Malinov" almost brought me to grief.
A certain Vyatka Counsellor intended complaining of
me to the Minister of Home Affairs to appeal for the
support of those in high office, asserting that the func­
tionaries from the town of Malinov so closely resembled
his respected colleagues in Vyatka that the latter's authori­
ty among their subordinates might be undermined. One of
my Vyatka friends asked him what evidence he could
produce proving that the Malinov functionaries w ere a
caricature of the Vyatka ones. "Oceans of evidence," he
replied. "For example, the orthur {sic!) says openly that
the wife of the Gymnasium director had a mulberry­
coloured ball gown. Can you deny it?" This devastating
piece of evidence reached the ears of the director's wife,
who vented her wrath not on me but on the Counsellor.
"Is the man blind or gone quite off his chump?" asked the
lady. "When did he ever see me in a mulberry-coloured
gown? I do own a dark gown, but its colour is p ense."
This subtle discrimination in tone saved me: the disap­
pointed Counsellor did not pursue the charge. Had the
gown been mulberry he would undoubtedly have written
his complaint and in those delightful times the mulberry
gown could have done me more harm than Onegin feared
from Mme. Larina's mulberry juice.
The success of "Malinov" led me to undertake Who Is
to Blame?
I brought the first part of the book from Novgorod to
Moscow with me. It did not please my Moscow friends and
I dropped it. A few years later opinions changed, but I still
did not consider finishing it and publishing it. Then one
day Belinsky chanced to read the manuscript, and with his
tendency to wax enthusiastic he estimated its worth to be
a hundred times higher than it actually was. He wrote to
me: "If I did not value the man in you as highly if not
more highly than the writer I would say, as Potemkin said
to Fonviz in after the performance of his play The Bri­
gadier 'Herzen, you can die now!' But Potemkin was
mistaken: Fonvizin did not die; instead he wrote The
Dunce. I do not wish to be mistaken, I wish to believe that
after Who Is to Blame? you will produce a work that will
make everybody say, 'He is not to blame, he has done what
was expected of him.' So now you see I have paid you a

20
compliment and made a lame sort of pun."
The censors did all sorts of clipping and cutting;
unfortunately I did not preserve their snippings. I do,
however, remember some of the expressions ·that were
thrown out (they are printed here in italics) and one whole
page (which I added to p. 3 8 * when the proofs had already
come from press). I remembered this passage particularly
because Belinsky was thrown into a rage by the deletion of
it.
1-r
8 june, 1859

Park House, Fulham

* Page 5 5 of the present edition. -(Ed.)

PART ONE
Chap ter 1

INTR OD UCING A RETIRED GENERA L

A ND A NE WL Y APPOINTED TUTOR
FOR THE GENERA L 'S SON

It was l ate in the afte rn oon. Ale xei Abram ovich w as

s tanding on the b alc ony struggling to rouse h imsel f from a
two-hour after-dinner nap ; he y awned from time t o time
and found difficulty in keeping h is eyes open. A boy
entered with a message , but Alexei Abram ovich was
ple ased to ignore him and the b oy did n o t dare disturb his
master. Thus a minute or two went by , at the e nd of which
Alexei Abramovich said :
"Well, wha t is i t ? "'
"While Your E xcellency w as asleep the tutor-the one
the d octor hired-come from Moscow."
" Ah?" The circumstances d o not m ake it clear
whether a q ue sti on mark ( ? ) or an e x clamation mark ( ! ) is
required here.
"I sh owed him into the room where the German lived
as y ou sent away. "
"Ah!"
"He asked me to tell y ou he was here when you w oke
up."
" Send him in."
Alexei Abramovich 's face assumed a m ore vigorous and
l o fty expre ssion. A few minutes l ater the b oy came b ack .
"Here's the tutor, sir," he said.

25
 Alexei Abramovich said nothing for a while; then,
throwing a fierce look at the boy :
" Your mouth stuffed with flour or what, y ou dunce?
Who can understand your garble? " Without w aiting for
the boy to repeat his announcement, he added : "Show
him in, " and sat down.
Humbly, with faltering steps, a young man of twenty­
three or four-pale, frail, with fair hair and wearing a
skimR y frock-coat-entered upon the scene.
' How do you do, my most respected," said the
general, smiling good-humouredly but not getting up. " My
doctor has spoken well of you. I hope we will be pleased
with each other. Hey Vaska ! (giving a low whistle ) Why
have you not offered our guest a chair? Do y ou think
because he is a tutor you are not obliged to? Phooh!
When are we going to hammer you into something
resembling a human being? . . . Do sit down. Well, my most
respected, I have a son, a good boy, a capable b oy ; I want
to prepare him for cadet school. He speaks French , he
can't be said to speak German but he understands it. His
German tutor turned out to be a sot, neglected the b oy's
studies, and besides I must own I used him more as a
handyman. He lived in the room you are to occupy; I gave
him the sack. To tell you frankly, I don' t care to have my
son become a scholar or philosopher; on the other hand,
my most respected, I may be well off but I am not paying
two thousand five hundred rubles for nothing. Nowadays,
as you must be aware, they demand that even the military
have a knowledge of grammar, arithmetic and the like.
Vaska, hey Vaska ! Call Mikhail Alexeyevich ! "
All this time the young man had been sitting in silence,
blushing and toying with his handkerchief and trying to
summon up the courage to say something; his ears rang
from the rush of blood to his head ; he did not clearly
understand what the general was saying but his speech
produced in him the sensation that comes from scratching
on glass with your fingernail. When it was over he said:
" In accepting the responsibility of teaching your son I
shall act as my honour and conscience . .. to the exten t o f
m y abilities, o f course . . . in a word , I sh all do my best to
justify your . . . Your Excellency's trust in me."
Alexei Abramovich interrupted :

26
 ''My Excellency does not expect anythin g e xcep tional,
my good man. The main thing is to arouse your pupil's
interest in his studie s, to treat them w ith a light h and, so
to speak, if y ou catch what I mean . I b elieve you have
finis hed your education , have you not? "
" Indeed I have, I am a Candidate ."
" What sort of new rank is th at? "
" It is an academic degre e . "
" May I ask i f your p arents are alive? "
" They are . "
" Belong t o th e clergy ? "
" My fath er is a rural doctor."
" Have you stud ie d m edicine? "
"No, I specialised in physics and m athematics . "
" D o y ou know Latin ? "
" I do . "
" A quite unnecessarv l anguage-e x ceptin g for doctors,
of course-you can hardly expect a doctor to say in so
many words that his patient will be kicking the bucket the
next day ; but for us ordinary mortals, what use h ave
we o f it?"
I do not know how long th is learned conversation
would have continued if they had not b een interru pted b y
th e entrance o f Mikhail Alexeyevich, that is to say, o f
Misha, a healthy , red-cheeked, sturdy , sunburnt thirteen­
ye ar-old b oy; he was we aring a jacke t h e had grown out o f
in the course o f a few months and his app earance was like
that of all children o f rich landowners living in the
coun try.
" This is your new teacher," said his father.
Misha's heels clicked toge ther as he b owed.
" Obey him and apply yourself to your studie s ; I shall
not be sp aring of money, it is up to you to make the b est
use of it. "
The tutor got up, b owe d resp ectfully to Misha, to ok
the b oy' s hand and told him kindly and gently that he
wou ld do all in his p ower to e ase his tasks and make him
enjoy his s tudies.
" He has had some instru ction , " ob served Ale xei Abra­
mo vich. " From the French gove rness who lives with us,
and from th e priest, a s eminary graduate. Here , ask h im
some que stion s. "

27
 The tutor, taken aback, considere d for a while what he
shou ld ask, then came out with:
" To what field o f learning doe s gramm ar b elong? "
Misha rolled his eyes from side to side , p o ked his finger
up his nos�, and said:
" Russian grammar? "
" Any gramm ar, it make s no difference. "
" We didn' t learn that. "
" What did you learn with the priest?" asked his fath er
grimly.
" We learned Russian gramm ar u p to p articiple s, and
the catechism up to sacraments, Pap a. "
" W e l l , run along and show y our teacher y our
study-ro om. Just a minute, what is your name, my good
man ? ' '
" Dmitri, " replied the teacher, b lushing.
" And your patronymic ? "
" Yakovlich.''
" Dmitri Yakovlich. No doub t you would like some­
thing to eat and-er-a little drink after your journey . "
"I never drink anything b u t wate r. "
" P o p py cock, " thought Alexei Abramovich, who,
exhausted b y such prolonged academic discourse, made his
way to his wi fe in the sitting-room . Glafira Lvovna w as
asleep on a Turkish divan. She w as w earing a loose b lo u se ,
her favourite attire, for she found anything e lse too con­
fining. Fifteen y ears o f pro sperous m arried life h ad
mellowed her constitution : she was a human Adansonia
baob ab. Alexei Abramovich' s heavy tread woke h er up, she
li fte d a tousled head, for som e time could not gather h er
wits toge the r, and ex claimed in ast onishment, as i f n ever
be fore having slept in the daytime : " Go o dness m e! I m u st
have fallen asleep ! Fancy that!" Alexei Abram ovich gave
a detailed report o f the e fforts he h ad e xp ended on Misha's
education ; Gla fira Lvovna approved of them and d rank
half a carafe of kvass while she listened (she d ran k k vass
every day b e fore tea-tim e ).
His audience with Alexei Abramovich w as not the only
ordeal Dmitri Yakovlich was to be put through that day .
H e was sitting silent and agitated in the study-room when a
footman came in and called him to tea. Up to this mo ment
our Candidate h ad known little o f feminine socie ty ; he

28
 l.
'--\
\

Alexander Herzen as an infant, a drawing by an unknown

artist, 1813.
Mosc ow, Tverskoi Boulevard. Lith ograph m ade in the 1 8 20s. In the war
of 181 2 , when Napole on's army occupied the t own, Herzen's parents
and their infant son remained here for s ome days along with other
Moscow residents.

House on Tverskoi B oulevard in M oscow

where Herzen was born on 2 5 M arch ,
1812 ( the house is preserved as a m em orial
by the state ) .
L u i sa lvanovna Haag { 1 7 9 5 - 1 8 5 1 ) ,
Herzen's mother. Ponrait in oils by
Letunov, p ainted in the 1 8 20s.

Ivan Alexeyevich Yakovlev

{ 1 76 7-1 846 ) , Herzen' s father. Por­
trait in oil s by Letunov, painted in the
1 8 2 0s .
The Burning of Moscow in 1812. A colour e ngraving m ade in 1812.
"Accounts of the burning of Moscow, the battle of Borodino and
the rout of the French in the Berezina River served as my bedtime
stories."-A. Herzen, The Past and Reflections.
ins tinctively held ladies in e steem ; he s aw them encircled
by a nimb u s ; he had observed them on th e boulevard,
smartly dre ssed and as inaccessible as the s ky, and on the
stage of Moscow theatres, where he took even ugly super­
numerarie s for fairies and goddesses. Now he w as ab out t o
be p re sented to a General' s wife-and t h e Lord only knew
what other ladies ! Misha had told h im he h ad a sister, that
a certain madn.me was living with them, and a girl n amed
Lub a. Dmitri Yakovlich was e ager to kn ow how old
Misha' s sister was; he had been about to ask at least thre e
times, b u t e ach time he had been s topped by t h e fear o f
blushing.
" Let us go, sir," said Misha, who , like all sp oiled child­
ren, was e xceedingly quiet and diffident with strangers.
As he got up, our Candidate w as not at all sure his legs
would hold him, and his hands were cold and clammy.
Almost swooning, he forced himself to m ake his w ay t o
t h e sitting-room in t h e doorway o f which h e b owed defe­
rentially to tbe hou semaid who h ad just brought in the
samovar.
" Glasha," said Alexei Abramovich, "allow m e : this is
Misha's new tutor. "
The Candidate b owed.
" Very pleased to meet you," said Glafira Lvovna,
slightly narrowing her eyes in the coy m anner that had
once became her. " Our.Misha has been s o long in want o f a
proper instructor; we re ally don ' t know how to e xpress
our thanks to Dr. Krupov for honouring us w ith your
acquaintance. Pray m ake yourself at home ; won't y ou sit
down ? "
" I have been sittin g all the time, " murmured the Can­
did ate , quite unconscious of what he was s aying.
" You don't suppose we thought y ou sto od up in the
coach ? " remarked the general in an attempt at humour.
The attempt completely disconcerted the Candidate;
he took a chair, sto od it at a crazy angle and alm o st m issed
it as he s at down. He dreaded nothing so much as lifting
his eyes; perhap s the young ladie s were in the room, and i f
they we re , ought h e t o b ow t o them ? And how?-not
from a sitting position, surely.
" What did I tell you ? " whispered the general to his
wife . " As b ashful as a schoolgirl . "

3-171 33
 " Le p auvre , il est a plaindre , " said Glafira Lvovna,
b iting her full under lip .
Glafira Lvovna liked the y oung man at first sigh t.
The re we re several reasons fo r this : in the first p lace ,
Dmitri Yakovlich with his big blue eyes w as charmant; in
the second, Glafira Lvovna rarely met any men (with the
exception of her husb an d , her footmen, c o achmen, and
the old d octor), and even more rarely y oung and attr active
men, and she, as we shall sub sequen tly learn , was in clin ed
to dre am of Platonic attachments ; in t he third, w omen of a
ce rtain age are as in explicably drawn t o y oung men as m en
are drawn to y oung girls. This fe eling appe ars to b e akin t o
compassion-to a mate rnal feeling-they yearn to t ak e
these shy , inexperi enced, unp rote cted cre ature s under
their win g, to soothe them, caress them, w arm their hearts ;
t hat, at le ast, is what the women t he mselves imagin e they
feel; we are of a different opinion , but t here is no need to
give our opinion here.
Glafira Lvovna o ffe re d the Candid ate a cup o f te a with
her own hand. He took a convu lsive gulp of it that scalded
his tongue and p alate , b ut he con cealed h is p ain with the
stoicism of a Mucius Scaevola. This circumstan ce w orked
to his b ene fit: it distracted his mind and h elped him to
take himself in hand. Jjttle by little he raised the level o f
his gaz e . Glafira Lvovna was sitting o n a sette e ; i n front o f
h e r stood the te a-table , and o n the table sto o d an e nor­
mous samovar resembling a monument in Hindu style . Op­
p osite her she had put Alexei Abram ovich , p erhap s w ith
the purpose of taking advantage of the vis-a-vis p o sition to
enlist his services, or perhaps to have all sight o f h im cu t
o ff by the samovar. He was seate d in an an cient armchair,
the le gs of which seemed to sink in to the floor u nde r h is
weight. Behind the armchair stood a little girl o f ab out ten
with a rath er vac�ous expression on h er face ; she kept
glancing out from b ehind her father's b ulk at the new
te acher: and it was she who h ad cau sed our d oughty Can­
didate such trepidation ! Misha, too, w as at the tea-table ;
in front of him stood a b owl o f milk-cu rds and a b ig slice
of black bre ad. A hunting-dog peered out from under a
table-cloth de co rate d rather e ffe ctively with a repre sen ta­
tion of the city o f Yaroslavl w ith th e town's e mb le m of
bears at all four comers ; the folds o f the table-clo th c on-

34
ferred a kin d o f Egyp tian look upon the dog, whose eyes,
se t in rolls of fat, were fix e d immovably u p on the Candi­
date. In an armchair by th e wind ow s at a tiny old lady
knitting a s tocking; there was a cheery l o o k on her
wrinkled face with i ts overhan ging eyebrows and pale thin
lips; Dmitri Yakovlich surmised that this w as the French
madame living in the house. At the door stood the b oy,
whose du ty it now was to hand Alexei Abramovich his
pipe. B eside him a housemaid in gingham dress with linen
sleev e s was waiting in awe d admiration for her b e tters to
comple te the rite o f tea-drinking. There was one m ore lady
in the ro om, but Dmitri Yakovlich did n o t see h er face
b ecause it was bent over her embroidery. It belonged to a
p o o r y oung girl whom the kind-hearte d general h ad under­
taken to raise.
It too k some time to get the c onversation going, and
wh en it w as under way the Candid ate fou nd it fragmen­
tary , e mp ty and wearisome.
It was a strange thing that the p oor scholar should be
thrown into such close contact w ith these rich l and owners.
All of them migh t easily h ave lived to the e nd of their d ay s
wi thou t o n e ano th e r.
But fate d ecreed o therwise. The life o f this kind and
se nsitive y outh, well-educated and e ager for le arning, w as
caugh t an d held in the sate d life o f Alexei Abramovich and
his sp ouse- caugh t like a fly in ointment. Everything was
changed, and it di d not require a great deal of p erspicacity
to fore se e the far-reaching influence this change would
exert on a y outh of so little experience and no knowledge
wh atever of the practical world .
But who were these p e ople-the general and his wife ,
living in conj ugal felicity and glorying in their p rosperity ?
An d w h o w as this y outh appoin te d to m ould Misha's h e ad
into a p attern accep table to a cadet scho ol?
I have n o skill at composing s tories; that, n o d oub t, is
why I find i t expedient to interrupt my narrative at this
p oint to o ffer the reader biographical information
ob tained fro m reli able sources. Naturally I sh all b e gi n
with-
Chapter 2

BIOGRAPHIES OF THEIR EXCELLENCIES

THE NEGROVS

Alexei Abramovich Negrov, retired Major General and

Cavalier of the Cross, a tall corpulent gentleman who since
the cutting of his milk teeth had not known what illness
meant, could serve as an example u tterly and completely
refuting all the contentions advanced by Hu feland in his
book On Extending Man's Lzfe Span. Alexei Abramo­
vich lived a life diametrically opposed to every tenet held
by Hufeland, yet he was consistently well and rosy-
. cheeked. He observed only one law o f hygiene: he did not
upset his digestion by mental strain, and perhaps the obser­
vation of this one law was sufficient to exemp t him from
the observance o f all others. Though stem, quick-tem­
pered, harsh in words and often in deeds, he could not be
called vicious by nature ; the forceful feature s of his face,
which even layer upon layer of surplu s flesh could not
entirely obliterate, his thick black e y ebrows and shining
eyes sp oke of capabilities suppressed by his way of life. At
the age of fourteen, having been left up to then to his own
devices and those of a French governess living in his sister's
house, he was enrolled in a cavalry regiment; he sailed gaily
through his youth on the plentiful money supplied by his
doting mother. After the campaign o f 1812 he was pro­
mo ted to the rank of Colonel; his Colonel's epaulettes
were attached to shoulders already sagging under the bur­
den of the uniform; military service was becoming irksome
to him, and so, after continuing in it a little longer, he
asserted that "he was unable to continue in the service
owing to failing health" and retired, taking with him the
rank o f Major General, moustaches which displayed
samples of all the dishes enjoyed at dinner, and a uniform
to be worn on special occasions. When the retired General
took up residence in Moscow (which had found time to
rebuild itself after the fire ) he was confronted by an end­
less prospect of idle, monotonous, tedious days and nights.
.
36
 The re w as no o ccupation to which his abilities and incli­
nations attracted him. He went visiting, p layed cards,
din e d at his club, appeared in the first row .of theatre stalls,
att ende d b alls, acquire d two foursomes of h an dsome b ays,
gro omed them himself, himself trained his co achman tire ­
lessly , e arly and l ate , and taught the e questrian art to his
p ostilion. A year and a half passed in this m anner, at the
end of which his coachman had learned to sit on the b ox
and hold the rein s and his postilion h ad learned to sit on a
horse and hold the reins. Alexei Abramovich found him self
b ored to death ; he re solved to go to his estate in the
country and take over the supervision of it, convincing
himself that this measure was expedient to prevent the
mismanagement o f the e state. His theory of management
was very simple: he upbraided his b ailiff and the village
elder every day , he rode to shoot h ares and w alked to
shoot snipe. Unu sed to attending to any business at all, h e
could not imagine what was to b e done, so h e devoted his
efforts to trifles and was content. The b ailiff and elder
were content too. As for the peasants, I cannot s ay ; they
did not declare themselves . In a couple of months a charm­
ing feminine face appeared in the window of the master' s
house, at first with e y e s re d from weeping, later w ith eyes
blue and shining. At about the s ame time th e elder, who
showed not the least interest in the improvement of the
village, approached the General t o s ay that E melyan B ar­
b ash's house was falling down and would he, the General,
b e so good as to allow the man t o fell l ogs for a new hou se .
Now the one thing Alexei Abramovich cherished above all
others was his timb e r ; he would have begrudged the felling
of a tree to make his own co ffin ; but in thi!:. case he
showed an unwonted geniality and gave p ermission t o cut
down tre e s for the hou se, admonishing the elder: " But
min d ! -I 'll have a rib o f your body for every extra log you
take, you red-headed goblin!" The elder ran directly to
the back door o f the m aster's house and rep orted his vic­
tory to Avdotia Emelyanovna B arb ash , calling her " bene­
volent mistre ss" and "intercessor". The poor girl b lu shed
t o the e ars, but in the simplicity of her heart she was glad
that her fath er was to have a new house . Our source m ate ­
rials o ffe r little info rmation as to how the b lue eyes w ere
conquere d and whe n they were beheld fo r the first time . I

37
suppose this is because such conquests are too easily
accomplished to deserve recording.
However that may be, in time Alexei Abramovich had
his fill of country life. Assuring himself that he had eli­
minated all defects in the management of his estate and
had given the management a direction so correct and re­
liable that it could continue without his supervision, he
made himself ready to return to Moscow. His personal
effects were increased on this return j ourney : the b eau tiful
blue eyes, a we t-nurse and an infant travelled with him in a
special carriage. In Moscow they were quartered in a room
whose windows gave on the inner courtyard. Alexei Abra­
movich loved the babe, loved the mother, even loved the
wet-nurse (he was living through an erotic stage of his life ).
The wet-nurse's milk spoiled and she was sick most of the
time, for which reason the doctor announced she was no
longer capable of feeding the child. The General deeply
regretted it: "Such an exceptional w et-nurse-healthy,
good-natured, and so willing to please! But if her milk has
spoiled .... What a pity!" He made her a present of twenty
rubles, gave her back her povoinik *, and p acked her off to
be cured by her husb and. The doctor advised substituting a
she-goat for the wet-nurse. His advice w as taken. The goat
turned out to be healthy, Alexei Abramovich loved her,
fed her black bread with his own hands and caressed her,
but this .did not prevent the goat from supplying his child
with excellent milk.
Alexei Abramovich1s life followed the same pattern as
before , and after enduring it for two y ears he could endure
it no longer. No man can go on indefinitely without a
regular occupation. Animals assume that their only pur­
pose is to exist, but human beings accept life as an opp or­
tunity to do something. Alexei Abramovich was plagued
by ennui even though he was away from home from noon
to midnight. But he did not wish to return to the country .
He fell into a state of depression, gave his servant more
paternal instruction than ever and spent less time in the
room whose windows gave on the inner courty ard . One
day he returned home in an unusual state, he seemed

* The kerchief tied round a woman s head testifying to her

married state.- (Tr. )

38
preoccupied, now frowning, now s miling ; after p acing the
floor for a long time he suddenly halted and his face took
on a look of resolution. Cle arly h is inner struggle h ad come
to an end . Once at an end , he let out a whistle- so p ie rcing
a w histle that the b oy asleep on a chair in the adjoining
room jumped up and turned in the wrong direction in his
fright and then could hardly find the do or. When he did
find it the General said, " Asleep again , you scamp ?" but
he said it in a mild voice rather than the thunderous one
ordinarily followed by paternal flashes of lightning. " Go
and tell Misha to run to the carriage- maker' s and have the
man come to see me at eight o'clock tomorrow morning­
without fail! " Unqu e stion ably a load h ad fallen o ff Alexei
Ab ramovich's min d, leaving it at e ase.
At eight o'clock o f the following morning the German
carriage- maker appeared and at ten the con fe rence was
over; in the course of this con fere n ce a defin ite and de­
tailed order had been given for a land au with a b ody
painted m ordore [once and e mbellished with a coat-o f­
arms in gold , the inside to b e upholstere d in maroon wool
edged with bason coquelicot, and with an elab o rate coach­
'
man ' s b ox three cushions wide .
The landau meant no more nor less than that Alexei
Abramovich was intending to get m arried. This intention
soon reve aled itself in unambiguous signs. When th� car­
riage- maker had gone he called his b utler. In a long and
rather in coherent speech (which does him h onour, for his
incoherency testified to the stirrings of what people call
con science ) he expres sed his gratitude for services rendered
and his inte ntion to reward the man h andso mely. The
b u tler could not im agine what his m aster was getting at,
but he bowe d and modestly murmured something like :
"And who are we to ple ase, sir, i f not Yo u r Excellency ?
You are our father, we-your children . " Tired o f playing
this come dy, Alexei Abramovich now came to the p oin t
by informing the butler su ccinctly that he gave h im p er­
mis sion to m arry Avdotia Barbash. The b utle r h ad a quick
mind, and although h e was dumbfounded b y this unex­
p ec ted largesse on the part o f his m aster, he calculate d the
p ros an d con s in a trice and asked p ermission t o kiss his
master' s hand as a mark o f appreciation for su ch gene ­
rosi ty and solicitude. The proclaimed bridegroom knew

39
very well what lay at the bottom of it. "But," said he to
himself, "once the master is giving Avdotia t o me he does
not think of denouncing her altogether; I am one of the
household and one who knows his way s and it is not too
bad to have such a pretty wife." In a word, the butler was
ple ased. Avdotia was amazed to hear that she was
betrothed ; she wept and was in low spirits for a few days,
but, knowing she had either to go back to her fath er's
house in the village or become the butler's wife, she cho se
the latter. She thought with a shudder of how the girls
would laugh at her, remembering that, at the height o f her
glory, they had secretly called her "half-a-lady". In a
week's time the two were wedded . When the y oung pair
came with sweetmeats to do reverance to their lord and
master on the following morning, Alexei Abramovich was
in high spirits, made them a present of one hundred rubles
and said to his chef, who happened to be present: " Let
this be a lesson to you, bonehead ; I enjoy dealing out
rewards as well as punishments: he served me well and has
been well rewarded." The chef replied: "True, Your Excel­
lency," but on his face was written : "Thin k y ou're fooling
me, do you ? You're the one gets fooled every time I have
dealings with the grocer! "
That evening the butler gave a feast which le ft all the
servants reeking of vodka for the nex t two days, but he did
not grudge the expense. Poor Avdotia, however, su ffered a
bitter moment when an order was received to transfer the
child's bed, and with it the child , to the servants' quarters.
Avdotia loved her daughter with all the strength o f her
simple soul. She was afraid of Alexei Abramovich ; all the
rest· of the servants we re afraid of her, although she had
never done harm to any o f them ; while condemned to a
harem-like imprisonment, she had concentrated all the
demands of love, all the demands on life, upon her infant;
she had a good heart, if untutored and suppressed , but
there was one thing which even she, humble and submis­
sive as she was, had never tolerated, and that was Alexei
Abramovich's rough treatment of their child when the
child irritated him ; at such times she had raised a voice
trembling with rage rather than fear; at such times she had
held Alexei Abramovich in contempt, and he, as if aware
of his humiliating position, had hurled abuses at her and
40
stalked out of the ro om, slamming the door behind him.
When the moment came to transfer the bed, Avdotia
locked the door and fell sobbing to her knees before the
icon, se ized her daughter's little hand and made the sign o f
the cross over her. " Pray," she said, "pray, my treasure .
You and I are going to drink a full cup of sorrow ; Holy
Mother of God, intercede for this innocent child .... And
here was me , fool that I am, thinking you would grow up,
my darling, to ride about in a carriage and walk about in
silken clothes and I would steal glances at y ou through a
crack in the door, for what use would you have for a
peasant mother ? . . . But now you'll grow up with no j oy of
life: they'll no doubt make you laundress to the new mis­
tress and the soap will eat into these sweet hands. Oh, God
in heaven, how has this infant offended Thee? " Avdotia
fell sobbing to the floor; her heart was broken ; the fright­
ened child clung to her and cried and seemed to understand
everything. An hour later the bed was moved in to the
servants' quarters and Alexei Abramovich ordered the but­
ler to have the child call him father.
Who was the fortunate lady of Alexei Abramovich's
choice ? In Moscow can be found a particular v arietas of
the human species-we have in mind the inhab itants of
once wealthy aristocratic homes, who have retired from
high socie ty and live modestly, generation after generation,
in inconspicuous by-streets ; a dull orderliness and a deep­
seated animosity towards anything new are characteristic
of those who dwell in these houses; the houses themselves
stand, for the most part, well back from the street, the
columns framing the doorway have gone crooked, the
entrance halls are dirty ; their inhabitants consider them­
selves true carriers of national traditions because they can't
live without kv ass, because they ride about in sleighs (as in
carriages ) accompanied by two footmen, and because they
live all year round on supplies brought from estates in
Penza or Simbirs k.
In one such house lived Countess Mavra Ilinishna. Time
was when she moved in St. Petersburg's aristocratic circles,
was a beauty and a flirt, visited the court, and even ex­
changed pleasantries with Kantemir,* who wrote a mad-
* Antiokh Kan temir (1 7 0 8-1 7 44)-a Russian satirical poet.-(Tr.)

41
rigal in her album, one line of which ended in " fervour" to
rhyme with "Minerva". Cold by nature and made haughty
by her beauty, she turned down all proposals in the hope
of making a brilliant match. Meanwhile her father died and
her brother, who inherited the estate, drank and gambled
it away in ten years' time. The exp ense of life in the capi­
tal forced them to change the scale of their living. The
Countess was already over thirty when she realised her
situation. Two distressing facts came to light simulta­
neously : the estate was squandered and her youth was
gone. She made a few desperate efforts to get married, all
of them unsuccessful, and so, putting on a b old front to
hide the bitter resentment seething in her breast, she
moved to Moscow, asserting that she could no longer stand
the excitement of high society, that she wanted nothing
but peace and quiet. At first she was accorded special
regard by her new acquaintances, who held it a mark o f
social distinction t o be invited t o her home; in time, how­
e v e r , h e r s p iteful tongue and insufferable hauteur
estranged them. Shunned and ab andoned by all, the old
maid became prey to hate and resentment, surrounded her­
self by impecunious old ladies, half-saints and half-beggars,
collected gossip from all corners of the town, shuddered at
the loose morals of the day, and looked upon her o wn
unsullied chastity as a sign of the highest virtue. Her bro­
ther the Count, finding himself without a copper, resolved
to make a heroic sacrifice: he married a merchant's
daughter, threw her low origin into her teeth every day for
four years, gambled away the last kopek of her dowry,
finally drove her out of the house and drank himself to
death. A year later she, too, died, leaving a five-year-old
daughter without any means whatever. Mavra Ilinishna
undertook to raise the child. It would be difficult to say
what prompted her to do this: family pride, compassion
for the orphan or hate of her brother; be that as it may,
the child's life was a dreary one : she was forever being
warned, threatened , frightened, and deprived of all the joys
of childhood. What can be more vicious than the egoism of
elderly old maids? They take vengeance on all who sur­
round- them for the emptiness of their own frozen hearts.
The little countess grew up somber and joyless ; un­
fortunately hers was not a nature to derive strength from
42
oppression ; as she entered the age of self-consciousness she
discovered that she was dominated by two strong feelings :
an irrepressible desire to enjoy the good things of life and
an overwhelming hatred of her aunt's way of living. Both
these feelings were to be forgiven. Not only did Mavra
Ilinishna fail to offer her niece any means of recreation,
she even took away all the little pleasures and innocent
joys that the child discovered for herself; she appeared to
believe that the sole purpose of a young girl's existence
was to read to her aunt until the aunt fell asleep and to
wait upon her the rest of the -time; she wanted to devour
her charge's youth, to suck all the fresh juices ·out of her
soul as payment for the upbringing which she never gave
her, but of which she reminded the girl every minute of
the day.
Time passed. The little Countess became eligible for
marriage-more than eligible : she was twenty-three years
old. She wilted under the boredom and monotony of her
life and she was possessed of a single idea: to escape from
the horror of her aunt's home. Death seemed preferable.
She drank vinegar in the hope of falling into a consump­
tion , but it was of no avail ; she thought of becoming a
nun, but she lacked the courage. Soon her thoughts were
guided into another channel. Some French novels which,
oddly enough, she unearthed in ner aunt's wardrobe,
taught her that there were consolations other than death
or a nunnery. She stopped contemplating the death's head
and began contemplating an entirel) different head ; alive,
and with curly hair and a moustache. Day and night she
was tortured by romantic visions. She invented romances
for herself: he ··kidnapped her, they were pursued, their
love was forbidden, shots rang . out, " You are min e for­
ever ! " he vowed as he pulled the trigger . .. and so on and
so forth. All her thoughts, all her dreams, developed this
theme in endless variations, and every morning the poor
girl woke up to discover pamfully that n obody had kid­
napped her, nobody had said "You are mine forever! ".
Her breast heaved, the tears flowed on to tne pillow, she
miserably drank the whey her aunt ordered her to drink
and even more miserably laced her stays, knowing there
was nobody to admire her figure. Such a state of mind
could not be cured by drinking whey ; gradually it led to

43
morbid sentiment and exaltation. She began to patronise
the housemaids and to press to her heart the coachman' s
numerous grimy children. If, after such a perio d, a girl
does not get married quickly she will begin taking snuff
and develop a fondness for cats and clipped lap-dogs and
will belong neither to the male nor the female sex.
Happily the first alternative fell to the Countess's lot.
She was not unattractive, and it was just at this historical
moment that she was fated to catch our hero's eye. Alexei
Abramovich was conquered by the supplic ation expressed
by her whole being, by the longing in her eyes and the
fluttering of her breast. He first saw her at the Old Church
of the Ascension, and instantly his fate was sealed. The
General recalled his youth as a brave comet, he sought
opportunities of meeting her, he waited hours at a time on
the church porch until, not without some embarrassment,
he saw an antediluvian coach drawn by skinny nags that
appeared to have outlived the hope of dying come to a halt
and discharge two footmen, who pulled out the old Coun­
tess, looking like a black crow, and prevented the young
Countess, looking like a full-blown rose, from jumping out.
The General had a cousin in Moscow. Anyone who has
a cousin in Moscow who is an old resident and sufficiently
rich, can marry almost anyone he chooses, provided that
he himself has rank and money and that the girl he chooses
is not betrothed already. The General confided his secret
to his cousin and she received it with sisterly sympathy.
For two months the poor dear had been dying o f boredom
and here out o f a blue came matchmaking responsibilities
to revive her. She immediately sent a cab to fetch the wife
of a certain Titular Counsellor. The wife came and the
cousin chased the serving-maids out of the adjacent room
so that there should be no eavesdropping. An hour later
the wife rushed out of the room with a flushed face and
after briefly informing the serving-maids what was afoot,
ran out of the house. At nine o'clock o f the following
morning the cousin was in a dreadful stir because the Ti­
tular Counsellor' s wife had promised to come back at
eleven and had not yet arrived. She did arrive at last, this
time accompanied by another woman in a lace cap. To put
it briefly, matters were moving with extraordinary speed
and in proper sequence. Important changes were begun in

44
the Countess' s home : the heavy linen curtains were
ordered to be removed from the windows and laundered,
locks and door-handles were polished with brick-dust
mixed with kvass (in lieu of vinegar) ; the storm frames·
were taken off the hall windows the better to air the room,
which smelled horribly of leather because four footmen
used it as a shop for making leather braces.
Having been abandoned by everybody for so long,
Mavra Ilinishna was in ecstasy that her niece's hand should
be sought by a General, and a rich one at that ; however,
she maintained her dignity by scarcely deigning to permit
the matchmaking procedure. One morning she told her
niece to pay particular attention to her toilette, and to
choose a frock with a low-cut neckline. She herself inspect­
ed her from head to toe when she was ready.
"Why have you ordered me to - dress up, maman? Are
we to have guests? "
"That does not concern you, my dear," replied the
Countess in an unwontedly gentle, genial voice.
The niece's muslin frock almost caught fire from the
flames that leapt in her veins ; she surmised, she conjec­
tured, she dared not believe nor disbelieve. She had to go
outside for a breath of fresh air to keep from suffocating.
In the entrance the senring-maids told her they were ex­
pecting a General to call, and that the General was seeking
her hand. Just then a carriage drew up at the door.
"Palasha, I 'll die, I 'm dying! " murmured the young
Countess.
"Tut, tut, my lady ! Who ever died from being
wooed?-and by such a gentleman! I always said our little
Countess was sure to marry a General-you can ask the girls
if I didn't. "
What pen is capable of describing what the poor girl
suffered during the exhibition and inspection ! When she
had somewhat recovered her senses she was disappointed
by Alexei Abramovich's frock-coat-she had been so sure
of a uniform with epaulettes ! But in those days Alexei
Abramovich could easily have pleased a young woman
without his epaulettes ; although nearly forty, he was a
man of such robust health that he looked much younger,
i n a d d i t ion to which he possessed, without being
loquacious, that ease of manner peculiar to officers, espe-
45
cially cavalry officers ; other defects which the girl may
have discovered in him were easily compensated for by a
handsome moustache, carefully pruned and pomaded for
the occasion. The match was made. Within a week after
t he inspection Mavra Ilinishna's acquaintances began
coming to offer their congratulations. People supposed to
have been dead long ago crawled out o f holes in which for
thirty years they had been valiantly fighting for life ; deaf,
paralytic, wheezy, emaciated, they refused to give up
counting their coppers and dragging out their crotchety
lives. To all of them Mavra Ilinishna said one and the same
thing : "The news surprises me as much as you; I did not
expect to give my Koko away in marriage so soon ; she is so
young! -scarcely more than a child. But we must bow to
God's will. The General is a good and reliable man, he will
be as a father to her; she is so inexperienced ! As for his
being rich and a General-that is of no importance ; gold is
no proof against tears. I am but reaping the reward of the
pious upbringing I have given her. (At this point her hand­
kerchief was applied to her eyes . ) How true it is that every­
thing depends upon proper upbringing ! Fancy such a
child coming from a dissolute father (may his soul rest in
peace) and a low-born mother! Would you believe it?­
she hardly exchanged four words with the General! It was
I who advised her what to do and she, the darling, made no
objection : 'If you wish me to marry him, maman, I will be
only too glad to do so,' she said. "
" She is indeed a rare exception in this profligate age ! "
Such was the reply in countless variations o ffered by
Mavra Ilinishna's friends and acquaintances, who forthwith
began spreading gossip and shamelessly sullying the repu­
tations of various people.
In a word , within a very short time a foursome of
black horses drawing a landau painted mordore fonce with
General Negrov inside attired in full uniform and with his
wife Glafira Lvovna Negrova sitting at his side in a wedding
gown made of air adorned with ribbons, drew up before
his festive apartments. The couple were greeted by a hired
chorus, pompous attendants, dazzling lights, music, flashes
of gold and whiffs of perfume. All the servants crowded
into the entranceway to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds.
Among them was the butler' s wife ; her husband, as the
46
servant of highest rank in the house, was in ch arge o f the
General's study and bedroom. Never before had the young
Countess seen such wealth at close hand, a n d it was all
hers, and the General himself was hers, and she w as happy
from the end of the longest hair of her head t o t he tip of
her biggest toe. Strange as it might seem, her dreams had
come true.
One morning a few weeks after the wedding Glafira
Lvovna was pouring out tea at the breakfast table, looking
as fair as a cactus in bloom in a white negligee trimmed
with wide lace ruffles ; her husband, in a gold-trimmed silk
robe and with an enormous amber cigarette-holder be­
tween his teeth, was lying on a divan trying to decide
whether to order a blue or a yellow coach for Easter;
yellow would be nice, but blue would be not bad either.
Glafira Lvovna was likewise immersed in thought ; she
neglected the tea-pot and rested her head on her hand
pensively, from time to time a slight flush passed over her
cheeks, occasionally she gave definite signs of agitation.
When at last her husband noticed her unusual preoccu­
pation, he said :
" You seem to be in low spirits, Glasha; are you not
well? "
" Oh, I am perfectly well," she replied, lifting her
eyes and gazing at him with the look of a sup­
pliant.
" But something is wrong, I can see that."
Glafira Lvovna got up, went over to her husband, put
her arms round him, and said in tragic tones :
"Alex ei,promise to do what I shall ask you."
Alexei" was surprised.
"We shall see, we shall see," he replied.
"No, Alexei, swear by your mother's grave that you
will comply with my request. "
He took the cigarette holder out of his mouth and
looked at her in astonishment.
"I don't like beating about the bush, Glasha; I'm a
soldier; if I can do it, I will, only come right out with it."
She buried her face in his chest and murmured tear­
fully :
"I know everything, Alexei, and I forgive you. I know
you have a daughter, the fruit of forbidden love ... I under-
47
stand; inexperience ... youthful ardour ... " ( his daughter
was three years old at the time ) " ... but she is yours,
Alexei, and I have seen her. She has your nose, the shape
of your head. .. Oh, I love her ! Let her be my daughter,
let me take her and bring her up ! And give me your word
that you will not persecute those who told me about her.
Ah, my friend, I adore your daughter ! Let me have her !
Do not deny my request ! "
Copious tears fell upon the silk robe.
His Excellency was confused and embarrassed in the
highest degree. Before he had time to collect his wits his
wife had made him comply with her request and had him
swear by his mother's grave, his father's memory, the hap­
piness o f their future children, their present love, that he
would not go back on his word and would not try to find
out the source of her information.
And so the child who had been demoted to the ser­
vants' level was once more elevated; her bed was brought
to a ground-floor bedroom and she, who had so recently
been taught not to call her father her father, was n ow
taught not to call her mother her mother; she was to b e
brought up believing that Avdotia Barbash was her wet­
nurse. Glafira Lvovna herself bought Luba dainty frocks
on Kuznetsky Most, dressed her up like a doll, pressed her
to her heart and wept. "Poor little orphan ! " she said.
"You have no papa or mama, but I shall be b oth of them
to you. Your papa is there," and she pointed to the sky.
"Papa has wings? " lisped the child , causing Glafira Lvovna
to weep twice as hard and to exclaim : "Oh, divine simpli­
city ! " The fact of the matter is that the child mistook the
sky for the ceiling, where, according to an outmoded
fashion, a pain ted cupid was fluttering legs and wings and
tying a bow round the black hook holding the chandelier.
Avdotia could not have been happier; she looked upon
Glafira Lvovna as upon an angel; her gratitude was un­
tinged by the slightest antipathy; she was not even resent­
ful of their teaching her daugh ter that she was not her
mo ther; she saw the child in silk and lace, she saw her in
the master's rooms, and the only remark she made was:
"How did my Luba tum out to be so pretty? -it would be
a shame to put her in other clothes ; she is goin g to be a
beauty ! " Avdotia visited all the convents in the neigh-

48
bourhood and everywhere offered up a prayer for her kind
mistress's health.
In the eyes of many the ex-Countess may appear to be
a heroine. I consider her behaviour grossly ill-considered,
at least as ill-considered as her marrying a man about
whom she knew nothing except that he was a male and a
general. In both cases the cause was certainly a romantic
exuberance which led her to long for tragic scenes, self­
sacrifice, false acts of charity, self-imposed nobility of
behaviour. To be fair we must admit that Glafira Lvovna
was motivated by no base sentiments, not even vanity ; she
herself could not have said why she wished to bring up
Luba; she was merely carried away by her emotions. Hav­
ing given his consent, Alexei Abramovich found the child's
incongruous position perfectly natural and did not trouble
his mind with the problem of whether he had done right in
consenting or not.
And indeed had he done right or wrong? Many argu­
ments may be presented on either side. Those who main­
tain that the highest aim in life is the development o f the
individual at whatever cost, and with whatever consequen­
ces, will naturally be on Glafira Lvovna's side. Those who
maintain that the highest aim in life is happiness and con­
tentment regardless of the sphere in which one finds
oneself and the means by which this h appiness is achieved,
will naturally be against her. Had Luba been allowed to
grow up in the servants' quarters, her understanding would
have been so limited and her mind would have slumbered
so deeply that even if she had learned o f her true origin
later in life the knowledge would have made little impres­
sion upon her; to salve his conscience Alexei Abramovich
would no doubt have released her from serfdom and even
presented her with a dowry of a thousand rubles or so ;
with her limited understanding she would have considered
herself lucky, would have married a merchant o f the Third
Guild, worn a silk scarf draped over the knot on the back
of her head, drunk as many as tw�lve cups of flower-tea at
a sitting and given birth to a large family of merchant­
children ; from time to time she would have paid a visit to
the wife of Negrov 's butler and enjoyed seeing the envy
with which her former friends looked upon her. She might
easily have lived to a hundred in this manner,
4-171 49
and have looked forward to having a hundred cabs in the
funeral procession taking her to Vagankov Cemetery .
Lub a in the master's drawing-room was quite another
Luba. However foolishly she was brough t up , she was given
the opportunity of education; the very fact that a great
gulf separated her from the servants' quarters was a kind of
education in itself. At the same time she was made to feel
all the incongruity of her situation; tears, insults, b itterness
were her lot in the master's quarters, and all this taken
together was sure to lead to the development of character,
and perhaps of consumption as well.
So now tak e y our choice: did Mme Negrova do well
or ill in adoptmg Lub a? ,
The conjugal lite of Alexei Abramovich flowed o n as
smoothly as oil. His handsome landau with its radiantly
happy owner and his wife inside was to be seen whenever
Moscow society went riding. It was invariably p art of the
procession in Sokolniki on the 1st of May, in the Palace
Garden on the Day of the Ascension, at Presnya Ponds
on All Souls Day and along the Tverskoi Boulevard o n
almost any day. In the winter the Negrovs attended gather­
ings, gave dinners and had their o wn box at the theatre.
But there is a deadly monotony about Moscow diver­
sions: they are the same yesterday, today, and forever; as
last year you met a fat merchant in an elegant kaftan and
his black-toothed wife decked out in precious stones, so
today you will meet them looking just the same except
that his kaftan will be older, his beard whiter, his wife's
teeth mo re decayed than ever, and you will go on meeting
them over and over again; just as last year you met that
dandy in the absurd frock-coat and with the killing mous­
tache, so today you will meet him looking just the same
except that he will be a bit leaner; just as yesterday the
gouty old gentleman with his waist-coat powdered with
snuff was taken for his drive, so will he be taken today and
tomorrow and the next day .
This alone is enough t o make one want t o lock o neself
in one's room. Alexei Abramovi ch was a patient man, b ut
there is a limit to human endurance: he could not stand
such a life for more than ten years, both he and his Glasha
were fed up. Within this ten-year period a son and a
daughter were born to them, they themselves p ut on

50
weight by the hour, they no longer took any interest in
clothes and began to spend most o f their time at home. At
last they decided to remove to the country. How and why
this decision was made I do not know, but I suspect it was
for the sake o f p reserving the peace and quiet they increas­
ingly aspired to.
The change was accomplished some four years before
the General held scholarly converse with the young tutor
Dmitri Yakovlich.

Chap ter 3

BIOGRAPHY OF DMITRI YA KO VLICH

It goes without saying that the biography o f a poor

young man cannot be as amusing as _the biography of
Alexei Abramovich and his household . We must make the
transition from the world of landaus painted mordore
[once to a world whose inhabitants are chiefly concerned
with procuring tomorrow's dinner; we must travel from
Moscow to a distant provincial town, and when we get
there we shall not stop in the single p aved street where the
aristocrats live and on which driving is possible at times;
we shall keep on going till we come to one of the unpaved
bystreets where at no time o f the year is it possible to walk
decently, to say nothing of riding, and there we will seek
out a crooked log house blackened with age, the h ouse o f
Dr. Krutzifersky, local physician, a house standing modest­
ly among its crooked age-blackened companions. Soon all
of th ese houses will collapse and be replaced by new ones
and no one will so much as remember them ; yet in each of
th em people live, passions surge, one generation succeeds
another, and the world knows as much about them· as it
does about the savages in Australia, as if civilisation, re­
fusing to recognise their existence, has placed them
without the law.
But here is the house we are looking for. A kind and
worthy old man and his wife have been living in it for
some thirty years. His life has been a continuous struggle
4* 51
with poverty and need; true, he has emerged victor in the
struggle for he did not die o f hunger or shoot himself in
despair, but the meagre victory was won at great cost: at
the age of fifty he is thin and grey-h aired and his face is
lined with wrinkles-:and this despite nature's having
conferred upon him rich stores o f strength and health . Not
by violent excesses or passions or tumultuous changes has
his body been ravaged and reduced to a state o f premature
old age, but by a hard, ceaseless, petty, h umiliating
struggle with poverty and concern for the morrow, by a
life of care and deprivation. In these lower social spheres
the soul dries up and withers from constant worry ; it
forgets that it has wings and, pressed ever to the e arth,
does not so much as lift its eyes to the sun . The life o f
Dr. Krutzifersky was a prolonged, gigantic, h eroic feat
accomplished in an unholy cause, the reward o f which was
today's meal with no certainty of procuring tomorrow's .
His education at Moscow University was received at public
cost, he was graduated as a physician and before accepting
a post married a German girl, daughter of a pharmacist;
except for a kind and sacrificial disposition , except for the
l o v e w h i ch in true German manner she preserved
throughout her life, the only dowry she brought him was a
few frocks saturated with the scent of rose oil. So deeply
was the medical student in love with her that it never
occurred to him that he had no right to love or to enj oy
family happiness, that these rights must be backed by fi­
nancial standing, like the French electoral right.
A few days after the wedding he was appointed doctor
to the army in the field. He endured eight years o f nomad
life; his weariness in the ninth year led him to ask for a
permanent post and he was offered the latest v acan cy.
That is how Dr. Krutzifersky travelled with wife and child­
ren from one end of Russia to the other and settled at last
in the town of X. At first he had a sufficient practice. The
landlords and o fficials of provincial towns always prefer
German doctors, but happily there were no Germans in
this town but the watchmaker. That was the h appiest time
in Dr. Krutzifersky's life, a time when he bought his
crooked little house and Margarita Karlovna sat up on the
eve o f his birthday sewing chintz covers for their old
armchairs and couch as a surprise to greet him with in the
52
 morning. The chintz was excellent and bought with kopeks
saved out of the house money; according to the design,
Abraham drove Hagar and Ishmael off the couch on to the
floor three times and Sarah shook her fist at them. The
right side of the armchairs showed only the feet o f Abra­
ham, Hagar, Ishmael and Sarah ; the left side-only their
heads. This happy time was not destined to last for long. A
certain wealthy landowner whose village was just outside
of town brought his own doctor to serve him and his
family, and this doctor took all of Krutzifersky's practice
away from him. The young doctor was expert in treating
women's ailments; the women went mad over him ; he
treated all o f them by applying leeches, eloquently defend­
ing his theory that not only are all ailments an inflamma­
tion, but that life itself is nothing less than an inflamma­
tion of matter; he spoke of Krutzifersky with withering
condescension; in a word, he became the fashion; the
entire town cross-stitched pillow-cases and tobacco­
pouches for him , made him souvenirs, invented little sur­
prises, and did their best to forget the old doctor. True,
the merchants and clergy remained true to Krutzifersky,
but merchants are never ill, they have, thank the Lord,
iron constitutio.n s, and if by any chance they do catch
some thing they cure themselves by going to the bath-house
where they rub themselves with all sorts of nastiness such
as turpentine, tar and spirit-of-ants ; they either get well or
die within a few days. In either case Krutzifersky was not
party to the deed, yet he was held responsible if the out­
come was death, and the young doctor made a point o f
saying t o his ladies: " Very odd that a doctor who knows
his business as well as Krutzifersky should not h ave
thought of prescribing trae opii Sydenh amiz: 1 0 drops,
solu tum in aqu a distillata, and applying forty-five leeches
to his chest. The man would be alive today if he had . " The
force of these Latin words was so great that even the gov­
ernor's wife was convinced the man would be alive.
Little by little Dr. Krutzifersky was reduced to living
on his salary alone, which I believe consisted of four hun­
dred rubles a year; by this time he had five children ; life
became more and more of a struggle. When Dr. Krutzifer­
sky was at his wits' end as to how to feed his family,
scarlet fever pointed a way out: three of his children died
53
of it, one after another, leaving only his eldest daughter
and youngest son alive. It seemed to be the little b oy's
feebleness that kept death and illness away from him. He
was born prematurely, with the m erest suggestion of
breath in his body; as h e grew up-weak, fragile, emaciated
and nervous-there were times when he was not actually
ill, but there was never a time when he was healthy. The
child's misfortunes began before he was born. While Marga­
rita Karlovna was heavy with him, disaster almost visited
their family. The governor of the province came to hate
K.rutzifersky violently for refusing to sign a certificate tes­
tifying to the natural death of a certain landowner's coach­
man, whom said landowner had flogged to death. Yakov
Ivanovich was within a hair's breadth of destructio n, and
while he awaited the blow with sad and humble heroism,
silently accepting the knowledge that he was a victim, the
blow passed him by. In these days of tears and stress Mitya
was born, the only person who was punished for the killing
of the coachman. The child became the idol of Margarita
Karlovna's heart ; the weaker and more ailing he was, the
more determined she was to preserve him ; she imparted
her own strength to him, her love revived him and
snatched him out of death's clutches. She seemed to
foresee that he was to be their only hope, comfort and
support.
But what about his sister? \Vhen she was seventeen an
infantry regiment was temporarily stationed in their town ;
when it left the doctor's daughter left with it, lured away
by a young lieutenant; within a year she wrote from Kiev
begging her parents to forgive her and give her their bless­
ing and telling them that the lieutenant had married her;
within another year she wrote from Kishinev that her hus­
band had left her, that she had a child and was in dire
need. The doctor . sent her twenty-five rubles. Nothing
more was heard o f her after that.
Mitya was sent to the Gymnasium when he reached the
proper age. He studied well.
A shy, modest, retiring child, he became the Inspec­
tor's favourite, although this gentleman did not consider a
f� mdness for children incumbent upon a man in .his p osi­
tion.
When Mitya completed the course his father hoped to
54
find him a place in the civil governor's office, the gover­
nor's secretary, whose scrofulous children the doctor
treated free of charge, promising to help him in this. But
suddenly another opportunity was presented to Mitya.
A philanthropically-minded Privy Counsellor p assed
through their town on his way to Moscow. The direc tor of
the Gymnasiu m, who had a nose sensitive to the approach
of Privy Counsello rs, instantly presented himself to beg the
Counsellor to do them the honour of visiting their modest
sanctuary of national education. The Cou nsellor was not
anxious to comply, but at the same tim e he could not
resis t the pleasure of being accorded a gracious and defe­
ren tial reception. The director, in full unzform, hi's hat
clu tched at his swo rd hilt, explained to the philan thropist
in detail why the halls were damp and the stairs c rooked
(although the philan thropist showed not the slightest inte­
rest in such things); the s tudents were lined up in straight
columns; the teachers, brushed and combed and with well­
kno tted cravats, walked anxiously among the studen ts,
throwing them and the night-watchman (who appeared to
be immune to the general excitement) anxious glances.
The physics teacher asked His Honour's permission to k ill
a rabbit in a pneuma tic machine and a pigeon in a Ley den
jar. The philanthropist begged him to spare the creatu res,
at which the director, whose heart was touched, lo oked
round at the students as much as to say "Greatness is
always accompanied by humility of spirit. " The pigeon
and the rabbit remained in the night-watchman 's quarters a
while longer, until the moment came when the relentless
teacher sacnficed them after all to the cause of science and
education, greatly to the satz'sfaction of the assembled
to wnsfolk. Then one of the students stepped fo rward and
the French teacher asked him:
"What have y ou to say on the occasion of thiS memo­
rable viSit paid to our sanctuary of learning?"
To which the scholar began in a kind of Franco-Sla­
vonic dialect:
"Coman puvonn nu pover anfan remersier lilustre
visiter. "
As he lo oked about him during this Franco-Slavonic
speech, the philanthropist's attention was attracted by
Mitya's pale, delicate face; he called the boy to him, sp oke
55
to him, laid an affectionate hand on his shoulder. The
director said Mitya was an excellent student who w ould go
far if given the opp ortunity, but he lacked the means of
going to Moscow to study, etcetera. The philanthropist,
being a philanthropist, told Mitya that in a month or two
his steward would come here, and if Mitya's parents gave
their consent the Privy Counsellor would have him b ring
Mitya to Moscow, where he could live in a wing of the
Counsellor's house along with the steward's children. The
director instantly sent his clerk for Dr. Krutzifersky. When
he arrived the Counsellor was getting into his carriage.
Mitya's father was overwhelmed by the great man's soli­
citude. He wept like a child and thanked him in simple
terms, chumsily and impulsively. The philanthropist pointed
to a broad-shouldered man fastening some belts on the
carriage and said:
"That man is my steward, he is the one who will come
for your son. "
So saying, he gave a benevolent smile and rode off.
One month later a covered sledge drove out o f the
doctor's gate. Inside the sledge sat Mitya wrapped up in a
blanket (which his mother had tucked in and tied) and the
steward in nothing but a greatcoat, for he pre ferred
heating his b ody from inside.
On what chance incidents does a man's fate hang! If
the philanthropist had not passed through the town of X
on his way to Moscow Mitya would have accepted a si­
tuation as clerk in an office and we would have had no tale
to tell ; in time Mitya would have become Senior Assistant
to the Office Manager and would have supp orted his p a­
rents on income whose source had best be taken on faith,
and Yakov Ivanovich and Margarita Karlovna w ould have
enjoyed a well-earned rest. Mitya's leaving marked a
turning-point in hi� parents' lives ; they were le ft alone ;
their home became more silent and melancholy than ever.
The steward, who could hardly be accused o f b eing senti­
mental, was conscious of something like a tear in his eye
when the old people took leave o f their son. A poor man
does not say farewell as a rich one does. The father says to
his son: " Go, my boy ; find a means of earning y our d aily
bread ; I can do no more for you, you must make y our own
way �n life, but do not forget us. " And the parents are left
56
Revolt on Senate Square in St. Petersburg, 14 December, 1825.
Water-colour by Kolman. "I felt that I w as not on the side of the
bullets and victory , prisons and chains. The execution of Peste] and
his comrades awoke me once and for all, though I was but a child."
A. Herzen, The Past and Reflections.

Alexeyevsky R avelin of the Pe ter and Paul Fortress in St. Petersburg

where the Decembrists were impnsoned. Photograph.
View of Moscow from Sparrow Hills. Lithograph. It was on Sparrow
Hills that the young Herzen and Ogarev took oath " . . . to dedicate
our lives to the cause we have chosen". -A. Herzen, The Past and
Reflections.
Nikolai Ogarev ( 1·8 1 3- 1 8 7 7 ) , well- known Russian poet,
friend and associate of Herzen. Portrait in oils painted by
an unknown artist in the 1 83 0 s .
behind wondering whether they will ever see him again and
whether he will find a means of earning his bread or not­
all is hidden from them as by an impenetrable veil. The
father longs to give his son a sizeable sum for the road, but
his means are limited; ten times over he calculates h ow
much he can spare from the eighty rubles constituting his
entire fortune, and every time it seems too little. And how
many tears does his mother shed over the meagre bundle in
which she has put things he will need ! She realises how
many essentials are lacking but she has no means o f sup­
plying them.
These are commonplace scenes, witnessed only by the
participants, carefully hidden from other eyes, but so
heartbreaking, so certain to call forth righteous indigna­
tion, that it is a very wise thing they are hidden from the
public eye.
In four years' time the young Krutzifersky received his
Candidate's Degree. He well deserved it, not because of bril­
liant gifts or exceptional understanding, but because of his
love of knowledge and his persistent application. The sight o f
his sby face might lead you to think h e would develop into
one of those pleasant Teutonic types-quiet, respectable,
con tended, completely devoted to modest scholarly and
pedagogical activities ; boasting a limited family circle in
which the husband is still in love with his wife after twenty
years of conjugal life, and the wife still blush es on hearing
unseemly stories ; types still to be found in small patriar­
chal German towns-pastors, seminary teachers-pure of
heart, morally impeccable, unknown outside o f their own
circle. But is it possible to live like this in our country? I
am convinced that it is not. Our natures are not suited to
such a life; the wine is too weak to quench our thirst;
perhaps we are superior to it, perhaps inferior, but in
either case we are too broad for it.
Having received his degree;Krutzifersky tried to get an
appointment at the university. Failing in this, he tried to
support himself by doing private tutoring. All his efforts
were in vain ; in the matter o f luck, he was a t rue son o f his
father.
A few months after the d rums and cymbals had
apprised the world of young Kru tzifersky's being the r � ­
cipient of a Candidate's Degree, he got a letter from h1s
61
father telling him that his mother was ill and delicately
hin t ing that they were in straitened circumstances.
Knowing his father's character, Dmitri realised that only
the most extreme need could have driven him to such an
acknowledgement. Young Krutzifersky had spent his last
copper; there was only one way open to him : he had a
patron (a professor o f something or other} who took a
lively interest in all his affairs ; Mitya wrote him a frank,
honest, touching letter asking him to lend him a hundred
and fifty rubles. The professor, moved to sympathy, wrote
a gracious reply but sent no money. In a postscript he
charmingly· reprimanded the young man for never coming
to take dinner with him. Mitya was stunned by the letter­
so little did he understand human worth, or rather mo­
ney's worth ! He suffered horribly; he tossed the gracious
letter penned by the learned gentleman on to his writing
table, walked the length of the room twice, then, com­
pletely overwhelmed by his sorrows, threw himself on the
bed; tears slowly crept down his cheeks ; only too vividly
did he picture in his mind the shabby little room in which
his mother lay weak and suffering, perhaps dying, and his
father, crushed by misfortune, sitting beside her. Perhaps
the sufferer longed for something b ut dared not say so for
fear of increasing her husband's misery, and her husband,
though he guessed what she wanted, dared not admit it for
fear of having to deny it her. Oh, reader, if you are
rich, or at least well off offer heartfelt thanks to
heaven! Praise ·the good Lord for inheritances
received! Praise him for family fortunes and patri­
monies!
Just at this awful moment for our Candidate , the door
of his room opened and in stepped an odd figure , obvious­
ly not a resident o f the capital, who lifted a hand to take
off a dark cap with an enormous peak. This peak cast its
shadow on the healthy red-cheeked cheery face of a
middle-aged man; his features expressed epicurean com­
posure and good nature. He was wearing a worn brown
greatcoat with an outmoded collar, he carried a bamboo
walking-stick, he had the appearance, as we have already
suggested, of a man from the provinces .
"Might you be Gospodin Krutzifersky, Candidate of
Moscow university? "
62
 "I am," replie d Dmitri Yakovlich. "What can I do for
you?"
" First of all, Gospodin Candidate, allow me to sit
down; I am your elder and I have come on foot. "
With these words he was about to sit on a chair · with
Krutzifersky's uniform coat draped upon it, but it turned
out that the chair could only bear the weight of a coat
without a man in it. In some emb arrassment Krutzifersky
invited him to sit on the bed and he himself took the only
other chair.
" I am Dr. Krupov, an inspector from the Medical
Board of the town of X ," began the visitor with exaspe­
rating slowness, "and I have come to you on the following
business."
_ Being of a methodical nature, the inspector halte d,
took out a big snuff-box, put it down beside him, took out
a re d handkerchie f and put it down beside the snuff-b ox,
took out a white handkerchie f and wiped the sweat o ff his
face with it. Then he t<;>Ok a pinch of tobacco, after which
he continued in the following manner:
" Last evening I went to see Anton Ferdinandovich-he
and I were classmates-no, I am wrong, he finished a year
before me ... yes, one year, to be exact . . . but we were
chums then and are good friends to this day. Well then, I
went to see him and asked if he could not recommend a
tutor for a certain family in our gubernia the terms bein g
such and such, the demands upon him such and such ;
Anton Ferdinandovich gave me your address and, to be
frank, said some very complimentary things about you.
Accordingly, if you are willing to leave the city, y ou and I
can come to an agreement."
Anton Ferdinandovich was the professor who had
assume d patronage over Krutzifersky; as a matter of fact
he was fond of the lad but, as we have seen, was not fond
of parting with his money. As for a recommendation, he
was more than willing to give that.
Krutzifersky accepted b ulky D r. Krupov as an angel
sent from heaven. He frankly explained to him his situa­
tion and concluded by saying he had no other choice, he
was obliged to accept his o ffer. Krupov took out of his
pocket an object that was something between a wallet and
a valise, opened it up and extracted a letter lying among

63
curved scissors, lanc � ts and draining-tubes, and read aloud :
"Offer the applicant 2,000 rubles a ye ar (at most 2 ,5 00
because for 3,000 my neighbour has employed a French­
man from Switzerland) ; a room to himself, tea in the
morning, laundry, and all the rest. Dinners with the fa­
mily ."
Krutzifersky presented no demands, blushed when
money was mentioned, made inquiries about the lessons,
and admitted that he was mortally afraid to enter an un­
known household, to live with strangers. Krupov was
sympathetic and urged him not to fear the Negrovs . . . .
" After all, you are not becoming one of the family ; y ou
are to teach their boy and see the father and mother o nly
at dinner. The General will do you no injury, y ou can take
my word for that; his wife sleeps most of the time so she
can do you no harm unless in her sleep . The Negrovs'
home, I assure you, is no worse-and, to be p erfectly
honest, no better-than most landowners' homes."
In a word, the deal was made: Krutzifersky put himself
out to lease for the sum of 2 ,5 00 rubles a year.
Provincial life had made Dr. Krupov lazy, but he h ad
not lost his human qualities. Bitter exp erience had taught
him that fine words and high aspirations remain for the
most part fine words and high aspirations, and so he h ad
settled for life in the town of X and learned little by little
to speak weightily and carry two handkerchie fs in his
pocket, one red, the other white. Nothing ruins a man as
provincial life does. But the doctor had not yet become
extinct; his eyes still showed a flicker from time to time,
and the sight of this pure, unspoiled youth caused him
some perturbation of heart. He remembered the time when
he and Anton Ferdinandovich had dreamed of b ringing
about a revolution in medicine and o f going all the way to
Goettingen on fooj. The rememb rance b rought a wry smile
to his lips.
When the deal was concluded a new thought suddenly
occurred to him: Was he doing right in pushing this y outh
into the bovine household o f this landlord . He was even
tempted to give him some money and urge him not to
leave Moscow ; fifteen years before he would have done so,
but it is very difficult for old hands t o loosen purse strings.
"Fate! " said the doctor to himself, and found consolation
64
in the word. He behaved as men have behaved from time
imme morial. Napoleon said that " fate" is a word without
meaning, which explains why it is so comforting.
"Well then, that's that," said the inspector after a little
pause. " I am leaving in five d ays and will be very glad to
have you share the coach with me."

Chap ter 4

THE DAIL Y R O UND

It is a well-known fact that human beings can adjust

themselves to any conditions, be they o f Lapland or Se­
negal. So there is nothing surprising in the fact that Kru tzi­
fersky gradually became used to the Negrov household. At
first he was shocked by their views, their interests and
their way o f life ; soon he grew indi fferent to them
although he remained far from accepting them. There was
no thing striking about the Negrov household, nothing
out o f the ordinary, but a young man coming there for the
first time found it uncomfortable, found that its atmos­
phere made breathing difficult. An emptiness o f the most
perfect order reigned in Alexei Abramovich's home. It
would be hard to say why these people got out of bed in
the morning, why they moved about, what they lived for.
But there is no need to say why. These good people lived
because they were born into the world, and they went on
living prompted solely by the instinct o f self-preservation.
What talk could there be of purposes and mo tives? Those
are concepts taken from German philosophy. The General
got up at seven in the mo rning and immediately went into
the drawing-room with a heavy cherry-wood pipe in his
mouth ; a stranger who entered at such a time might have
supposed that ideas and p rojects o f major importance were
seething inside his head, so deep was the look o f concen­
tration on his face as he drew on his pipe. But the only
thing that seethed was smoke, and that n ot inside his head
bu t o utside of it. For one wh ole hour he smoked with this
look of deep concentration. All of this time he paced the

5-171 65
flo or, fre quently halting in front o f the window to glance
sharply outside, n arrowing his eyes, wrinkling his forehead ,
evin cing signs o f displeasure, e ven going s o far as t o let out
lit tle grunts from time to time , b ut this was as much o f an
optical illusion as his expression o f deep concen tratio n .
Meanwhile his steward and the b oy stood a t the door.
When Alexei Abramovich finished smoking he turned to
his steward, took the daily report out of his hands and
began to upbraid him mercilessly, reiterating each time
that he, Alexei Ab ramovich, knew how to handle crooks,
and would make an example of him by sending his son t o
the so ldiery and demo tin g the steward himself to lo oking
after the poultry. This may have b een a measure o f mo ral
hygie ne, just as taking a cold sponge every mornin g is a
measure o f physical hygiene-a measure intended to make
his vassals fear and obey him-or it may simply have b een
an old patriarchal habit: in either case the regularity o f its
application deserved the highest p raise. The steward lis­
ten ed to the paternal castigation with silent resignation:
listening, he believed, was no less a duty connected with
his office than stealing wheat and b arley, hay and straw .
" You wretch ! " sho uted the General. " I f y ou were h anged
three time s it would still not b e enough ! " "Just as y ou
say," murmured the steward with supreme composure,
fix ing his cunning eyes obliquely on the floor. The inter­
view lasted until the children came in to gre et their father,
when Alexei Abramovich held out his hand t o b e kisse d.
They were accompanied by the petite French madam e
who practised self-e ffacement by withdrawing into h erself
and making a bow a la madame Pompadour. She always
announced that tea was ready and Alexei Abramovich
went to the sitting-room where Glafira Lvovna was en­
sconced in front of the samovar waiting for him . Ordin ari­
ly the conversation b egan with Glafira Lvovna's com­
plaining about her health and insomn ia ; she had a queer
pulsating pain in her right temple that moved to the t op o f
her head and then to the b ack o f her head and kept her
from sleeping. It would be difficult to say whether the
unconcern with which Alexei Abramovich listened to the
account of her ailments was owing to his b eing the only
member of the human race who knew without a shadow o f
a doubt that she never woke up at night, o r t o his seeing

66
with his own eyes what a salutary effect this ailme nt had
upon her health. Eliza Augustovna, the French madame,
was horri fied by the account, expressed the deepest
sy!"l pathy for � he sufferer and consoled her by saying that
.
Pnncess R., with whom Ehza Augus tovna had lived, and
Countess M. , with wh om she could have lived had she so
desired, had both suffered from a p ulsating p ain which
they called a tic douloreux. In the middle of the t ea-drink­
ing the che f came in and the worthy couple turned their
attention to the ordering of today's dinner and the con­
demning of yesterday 's, although all the platters had be en
li cked clean. The chef enj oyed an advantage over the
ste ward in that he was upbraided every day not only by his
maste r but by his mi stress as well.
After b reakfast Alexei Abramovich went out to survey
his fields. Notwiths tanding the years he had lived in the
country, he had made little progress in the science of agri­
culture ; he dev oted most o f his attention to righting petty
fault s and he insisted on nothing so much as discipline and
a lo ok of utter submission. The most flagrant thieving
went on under his very nose without his noticing it in m ost
cases, and he mismanaged the few cases he did n otice so
b adly that he was le ft looking like a fool. As the true head
and father of the community he o ften said : "I can excuse
a thief and I can excuse a cro o k , b ut the one thing I
cannot excuse is impuden ce ! " This was for him a patriar­
chal poin t d 'honneur. Glafira Lvovna never left the house
on fo ot excep t on very special o ccasions-n ot to speak, o f
c ourse, o f her w alks in the ancient garden that b egan a t her
very do orstep and was made beautiful b y neglect. She even
we nt mu shro oming in a carriage. It was done in the fol­
lo wing manner. On the eve, the village elder was told to
gather together a ho st of village b oys and girls with bags ,
baskets and all sorts o f containers. Glafira Lvovna and the
Frenchwoman rode slowly along the forest road while the
b are fo ot, half-naked and half-fed village child ren, with the
old woman wh o took care of the p oultry and the land­
lord 's son and daughter at their head, spread out in the
forest in search of mushrooms of every sort and variety.
The p oultry-woman brought every mushroom that was ex­
traordin arily b ig or extraordinarily small to the "General's
lady" who, after duly admiring it, drove on. On returning

5* 67
home from such an expedition Glafira Lvovna inva�ably
complained of exhaustion and took a nap be fore dmner,
first restoring her strength with a little snack left ove r from
last night's supper-a bit of veal or lamb that ha� b een
raised on milk, o r a bit of turkey that had b een rrused on
walnuts-something light and tempting of this sort. Mean­
while Alexei Abramovich took a glass o f vodka and some­
thing substantial to go with it, took another glass and
something more substantial, then went for a walk in the
garden, in those hours he showed particular interest in his
nurseries and addressed all his questions about such mat­
ters to the gardener's wife, who never in her life learned to
tell an apple from a pear, yet who p resented a most p re­
possessing appearance notwithstanding. It was at this t ime,
which is to say an hour and a half before dinner, that the
French lady taught the children. What and how she taught
them was kept a deep secret. Their mother and father were
satisfied-who else had a right to an opinion? At two
o'clock dinner was served. Every course was e nough to kill
a man used to a European table. Fat, fat, and more fat,
somewhat tempered by cabb age, onions and salted mush­
rooms , was, with the aid of Madeira and Port, converted
into Alexei Abramovich's resilient flesh, Glafira Lvovna's
obesity and Eliza Augustovna's b are b ones e ncased in
wrinkled skin. Eliza Augustovna, by the way, did n ot lag
behind Alexei Abramovich in the consumption o f Madeira,
which indicates some advance in the development o f
democratic ideals in the 1 9 th as compared with the 1 8th
century, when governesses were not allowed t o partake o f
wine at the master's table. She asserted that i n her native
town of Lausanne her family had owned a vineyard and it
was there she had learned to drink Madeira as Russians
drink kvass. After dinner the General lay d own on a couch
in his study for ·a half-an-hour's nap, which always ex­
tended far beyond the time limit, and Glafira Lvovna re­
tired to the drawing-room with the French lady. The latter
chattered without pause, putting Glafira Lvovna to sleep
with her endless stories. To vary the monotony o f her days
Glafira Lvovna would sometimes send for the p riest's wife,
an uncultivated inarticulate creature, always intimidated,
afraid of everything. After spending h ours in h er company,
Glafira Lvovna would say to the French lady : "A h comme
68
 elle es t bete, ·insupportable! " Ah, yes, there was no
denying the stupidity of the priest's wife. Then would
come tea-time, then supper at ab out ten o'clock, after
which everyone began yawning. Glafira Lvovna would
observe that in the country one must live as country-folk
do, which meant going to bed early, so the household
dispersed. By eleven o'clock the house was shaken by
snores from attic to cellar. On rare occasions a neighbour
would drop in-just another Negrov bearing a different
name . Or perhaps an old aunt (who lived in the central
town of the gu bernia and was possessed by the idea o f
marrying o ff her daughters) would come to call; b riefly the
o rder of life would undergo a change, but as soon as the
guests le ft everything went on as before. It goes without
saying that these daily occupations left ·considerable free
time that nobody knew what to do with, especially on
rainy autumn days and long winter evenings . All o f the
Frenchwoman's resources were mobilised for stopping up
these time-gaps. She had, let it be noted, much of interest
to relate. As a seamstress employed b y a French theatrical
company, she had come to Russia in the last years of
Catherine the Great's reign ; her husband was the com­
p an y ' s s e cond leading man, but unfortunately the
St. Petersburg climate proved fatal to him, especially after
he was thrown out of a second-storey window by a Ser­
geant o f the Guard for defending the interests o f a certain
actress with more ardour than becomes a married man ; in
t he course o f his fall he apparently swallowed too much
damp air, for from that time on he began to cough. He
coughed for two months, at the end of which time he
stopped coughing for the simple reason that he stopped
breathing. Eliza Augustovna became a widow at a time
when a woman is most in need o f a husband, that is, when
she was thirty years of age. She wept copiously, then
found herself a situation nursing a gout-stricken patient,
after which she undertook the upbringing o f the daughter
of an extremely tall widower, from his household she went
to a princess's, and so on, and so on. She had a gift for
adjusting to the moral atmosphere o f any family in which
she found herself, she wormed herself in to their confi­
dence, made herself necessary, performed whatever
services were demanded o f her, secret and otherwise,
69
always pandering and rendering homage, deferring to her
superiors and anticipating their every wish. In a w ord, she
did not find other people's stairways too steep for her to
climb or other people's b read too bitter for her to eat. Her
days went by in laughing and knitting-a sated, carefree
sort of e xistence. She played her part in every little affair
that developed between the serving-maids' quarters and the
master's bedchamber, yet it never occurred t o her that her
position could b e contemptible.
Well, then, Eliza Augustovna b rightened the dragging
hours with her tales while Alexei Abramovich played so­
litaire and Glafira Lvovna sat on the sofa doing n othing.
Eliza Augustovna knew thousands of stories about the in­
trigues and misdemeanours of her "benefactors" (as she
called those who employed her to look after their child­
ren) ; she related them with significant additions, always
assigning the main role to herself regardless o f whether it
was an admirable role or not. Alexei Abramovich listened
with even mo re delight than his wife, laughed upro ariously
and declared she was a perfect treasure. In this manner day
succeeded day, the passage of time marked by h olidays,
fasts, and the lengthening and shortening of d ays, until o ne
fine morning Glafira Lvovna would exclaim : "Dear me, the
day after tomorrow is Christmas and it seems o nly y ester­
day that the first snow fell! "
But what place in this scheme has Luba, the poor child
whom the Negrovs undertook to raise? We have quite for­
gotten about her. She is more to blame for this than we
are : she mostly sits silent in the circle of this patriarchal
family, taking no part whatever in all that goes on around
her and thereby adding a note of dissonance to the harmo­
nious chord struck by the other members of the house­
hold. There was much that was strange about Luba ; the
natural energy expressed in her face was veiled by a cold­
n� ss and apathy that nothing seemed able to dispel; she
dtsplayed such complete indifference to everything that
.
even Glaf1ra Lvovna could not endure it at times and
would declare her to be as cold-blooded as the English,
although there was much reason to doubt the Andalusian
temperament of the General's wife. Luba looked like her
father except for the dark blue eyes she had inherited fro m
her mother, yet the complete opposition of th� se two
70
faces despite their resemblance would have supplied La­
vater* with material for another volume of grandiloquent
phrases. The sternness of Alexei Abramovich's features
found justification, as it were, in Luba's face; looking at
her one realised that Negrov had b een b orn with capabi­
lities suppressed and destroyed by the life he lived ; her
face explained Alexei Abramovich's face ; one who looked
upon her came to appreciate him. But why was she always
so pensive ? Why so hard to amuse? Why did she prefer
sitting alone in her own room?
There were many reasons for this, springing from her
inner and outer life. Let us begin with the latter.
Her position in the General's house was unenviable not
because the Negrovs sought to get rid of her or even make
her uncomfo rtable, but because their prejudices and their
complete lack of delicacy (which only cultivation can sup­
ply) conferred upon them a crudeness of which they them­
selves were unaware. Neither the General nor his wife
appreciated the ambiguousness o f Luba's position in their
home and they were constantly causing her unnecessary
pain that struck at the very fibres of her being. Negrov,
haughty and unfeeling as he was, often offended her
deeply without intending to do so, but he also offended
her intentionally, ignorant of the devastating effect a harsh
word can produce on a soul more sensitive than that of his
steward , not comprehending that the utmost tact must be
used in his relations with this defenseless girl who was his
daughter and not his daughter, who lived with him by right
and b y charity. It was impossible for a man like Negrov to
employ such tact ; it never occurred to him that his words
might o ffend Luba: who was she that she should · take
offense ? With the purpose of making her love Glafira
Lvovna, he kept repeating that she must pray for his wife's
welfare every day of her life, that it was to his wife alone
she owed her happiness, that if not for his wife she would
be a servant instead of a lady. On the slightest provocation
he would remind her that there was a great gulf separating
her from his o wn children even if she was given the same

*Lavater, Johann Kaspar ( 1 7 4 1 - 1 8 0 1 )-a Swiss writer, the

founder of " physiognomy", the art of de termining character from
the features o f the face.- (Tr. }

71
education they were given. \\!'h en she reached sixteen years
of age Negrov looked upon every unmarried man as a
possible husband for her ; if a Secretary came from to\VTI
with a paper to be signed, or if rumours were spread o f a
petty landowner settling in their parts, Alexei Abramovich
would be sure to remark in Luba's p resence : "Would it not
be a good thing if the Secretary should ask for Luba's
hand? A very good thing indeed, convenient for me and a
fair match for her. She can hardly expect to catch a
count! " Glafira Lvovna was never harsh with Luba, some­
times she was even kind to her according to her lights­
would press sweets upon her between meals and such
things ; but the poor girl suffered many indignities at her
hands as well. Glafira Lvovna felt obliged to introduce
Luba to every new lady with whom she became acquain­
ted, saying : "This is an orphan who is being brought up
along with my little ones," and she would follow the intro­
duction with a whispered explanation. Luba, guessing what
she was saying, would pale, then flush with shame, espe­
cially when the provincial lady would stare at her brazenly
and with a suggestive smile on her lips. Of late Glafira
Lvovna's attitude towards the orphan had undergone a
change ; a thought had occurred to her that might well have
disastrous consequences for Luba: Glafira Lvovna, despite
a mother's �lindness , saw that her Liza-fat, red-cheeked,
resembling herself but with an even m ore vacuous expres­
sion-would always be eclipsed by a certain nobility in
Luba's appearance ; her pensiveness, added to natural
beauty of form, made it impossible for anyone to p ass by
without noticing her. Once Glafira Lvovna had discerned
this, she could not help agreeing whole-heartedly with
Alexei Abramovich, that if some good-natured Secretary
turned up, Luba should be given to him in marriage. Luba
could not help being aware of this.
In addition to all that has been said, Luba was op­
pressed by her surroundings ; her relations w ith the house­
serfs, among whom was her " wet-nurse" , were awkward.
The housemaids looked upon her as a kind of fraud ; loyal
to the aristqcratic way of thinking, they recognised only
the noble-b orn Liza as a genuine lady. When they saw how
modest and unpretentious Luba was , and that she never
told tales on them to Glafira Lvovna, they lost all respect
72
 for her and in moments of anger would say in a voice
meant for her to hear : " A churl's a churl no matter what
clothes you dress him up in. There's nothing of the lady in
her looks and manner." All of these things are trifles
unworthy of consideration if viewed from the point of
vie w o f eternal verities ; but let him (or rather her) who has
been unjustly mocked and insulted tell us whether it is
easy to endure A crowning indignity for Luba was the
occasional visit of Alexei Abramovich's aunt and her three
daughters who lived in the gubernia centre. The .aunt was a
vicious, half-mad, pious crank; she could not bear the sight
of Luba and made no attempt to spare the girl's feelings :
"What right have you, my dear, to deck yourself out in all
that finery?" she would say with a remonstrative shake of
her head. " How's that, eh? The very idea ! Why, you
could almost be taken for my daughters' equal ! Why do
you indulge her so, Glafira Lvovna? Marfushka, her aunt,
is my poultry-woman , my yard-serf; and what do I see
her�? Alexei, the old sinner, ought to be ashamed of him­
self! " She always concluded these outbursts with a prayer
that God forgive her nephew for producing Luba. The
aunt's daughters (three ·provincial graces, the eldest of
who m h ad for the last t wo or three years been marking
time on the threshold o f that fatal day signifying that she
was stepping out of her twenties) refrained from speaking
with such patriarchal bluntness, but their every word gave
Luba to understand that the amiability they showed her
was an indication of their magnanimous nature. Luba did
not let people see how these scenes hurt her and the
people themselves were too obtuse to perceive it, they
would have to be informed. On retiring to her own cham­
ber, however, Luba would cry bitterly. No , she could not
rise above her injuries, and I doubt that any other girl could
have done so in her place. Glafira Lvovna felt sorry for
Luba, but it never entered her head that she could voice
disapproval and take the girl under her protection; she
usually limited her e xpression of sympathy to giving her a
double portion ·of preserves and after seeing o ff the aunt
with a great show o f affection and a thousand repetitions
of the wish that her chere tante should not forget them,
she would tum to the French lady and say she could not
bear the woman and her visits upset her so that that
73
pulsating pain in her left temple always b egan again and
threatened to move to the back of her head.
Is it necessary to say that the education Luba received
was on the level of everything else ? Her only teacher was
Eliza Augustovna and the only thing Eliza Augustovna
taught her and the other children was French grammar, the
intricacies of which she herself had not mastered, for to
the end of her days she wrote French with grave errors.
She confined her pedagogical efforts to the teaching o f
grammar even though she boasted of having prepared the
two sons of a certain duchess for the university. There
were few books in Alexei Abramovich's house ; he himself
had none but Glafira Lvovna had a small library ; in the
sitting-room stood a book-case whose upper shelves were
taken up by an elegant tea-service that was never used, and
whose lower shelves were filled with books ; among them
were about fifty French novels, some of which in times
long past had amused and enlightened Countess Mavra
llinishna; the rest had been purchased by Glafira Lvovna in
the first year of her marriage, when she bought everything
under the sun : a hookah for her husband, a p ortfolio pre­
senting scenes of Berlin, a handsome dog-collar with a gold
clasp. Among these unnecessary purchases were some forty
books fashionable at the time ; two or three o f them were
English books and they too were brought to the country
estate although nobody in Negrov's household, and in fact
nobody within a radius of four miles o f his estate, knew
English. She had bought them for their London bindings
(the bindings were very fine indeed). Glafira Lvovna al­
lowed Luba to read any of her books , she even encouraged
it, insisting that she too adored reading and only regretted
that her endless household tasks and the upbringing of her
children left her no time for boo ks. Lub a read willingly
and attentively, but she had no great passion for it; she was
not so accustomed to books that she could not do without
them ; she felt there was something flaccid about them;
even Walter Scott bored her at times. Yet her environment
did not hinder her development ; on the contrary, the
vulgarity she met with on every hand only helped her
mature the quicker. Why? That is a mystery of the femi­
nine nature. A girl either adjusts to her environment from
the very start, so that at fourteen she flirts, gossips and
74
makes eyes at passmg officers, watches to see that the
housemaids do not filch tea and sugar, and in every way
prepares herself to become the respected mistress of a
household and a strict mother; or else with extraordinary
ease she frees herself of the dirt and the chaff, conquers
outward circumstances with nobility of spirit, perceives
values by intuition, and acquires a tact that preserves and
supports her. Rarely do men develop in this way. We men
are taught-taught in schools and universities, in billiard­
rooms and other places of a more or less pedagogical cha­
racter, and even so it is not until we are about thirty-five
that, at the same time as we lose our hair, strength and
passion, we acquire the maturity and discernment that
comes much earlier to a woman, comes hand in hand with
her youth, with the freshness and plenitude of her feelings.
Luba was only twelve years old when her father, in a
moment o f paternal vexation, spoke a few harsh and rude
words to her that gave her an education, supplied the
impetus that began her uninterrupted development. Fro m
s o early an age that head covered with dark curls began to
work� the questions evoked within it were not numerous
and all o f them were personal ones, but this o nly made it
the easier for her to concentrate on them. She found
nothing of interest in her surroundings, in external things.
She thought and dreamed : dreamed in order to relieve her
heart and thought in o rder to understand her dreams. Thus
passed five years. Five years is a long time in a young girl's
development-it is an entire epoch; in those five years
Luba, openly pensive and veiledly passionate, came to feel
and understand things which many goo d people go to their
graves without surmising the existence o f; she was some­
times frightened by her thoughts and rebuked herself for
knowing too much, but she did not restrain her intellectual
activity. She had nobody to speak to about all that pressed
upon her mind and all that seethed within her breast ; in
the end, unable to contain it, she resolved to do what
many young girls do : write down her thoughts and
feelings. She kept something like a journal. To acquaint
you with her we have copied out the following passage :
" Last evening I sat at the window for a long time. The
night was warm and the garden was lovely. I do not know
why, but I felt sadder and sadder, as if a dark cloud ga-
75
thered in the bottom of my heart and rose to envelope me.
I was so unhappy that I cried bitterly. I have both mother
and father, yet I am an orphan. I am all alone in the whole
world and I realise with horror that there is nobody I love.
That is a dreadful thought. Everybody loves somebody,
but for me all people are strangers. I want to love and
cannot. Sometimes I imagine that I love Alexei Abramo­
vich, Glafira Lvovna, Misha and my sister, but I am just
deceiving myself. Alexei Abramovich is so harsh with me
that I find him more of a stranger than Glafira Lvovna. Yet
he is my father. Do children pass judgement on their
fathers? Must they have some reason for loving them?
They love them just because they are their fathers, but I
cannot do that. How many times have I pro mised myself
to humbly listen to his unfair reprimands, but I cannot get
used to them. Whenever Alexei Abramovich becomes harsh
my heart begins palpitating and if I let myself go I fear I
would answer him b ack just as harshly. They spoiled and
took away my love for my mother. Only four years ago I
learned that she was my mother, too late for me to accept
her as such. I loved her when I thought she was my wet­
nurse. I do love her, I suppose, but I own to feeling un­
comfortable in her presence ; there is so much I must hide
when speaking to her; this is a barrier, this is painful. When
you love a person you must be able to tell them every­
thing; she is a kind creature, but more of a child than I am ;
besides, she is used to looking up to me as a lady and to
addressing me formally which is almost harder to bear than
Alexei Abramovich' coarse language. I prayed for them
and for myself, I asked God to purge my soul of pride, to
make me humble, to fill my heart with love, but love has
not come into my heart."
One week later. "Can it be that all people are like them
and all households like their household? I have never lived
anywhere but in Alexei Abramovich's home, but it seems
to me it would be easier to live in a village hut. Sometimes
I find life with them insupportable. Can I have become like
a wild creature from spending so much time by myself?
How different it is when I walk down the avenue of limes,
sit on the bench at the end of it and gaze into the distance.
Then I forget them and feel at ease ; not that I am happy,
rather that I am sad , but with an easeful sadness. At the

76
foot of the hill lies a village ; I do love those poor peasant
huts with the river flo wing beside them and a wood in the
distance. For hours I sit and gaze, gaze and listen, now to a
song coming fro m far away, now to the clatter of flails,
now to the barking of a dog and the creaking of a cart. As
soon as the peasant boys catch sight of my white frock
they run to me, bringing me wild strawberries, and they
tell me all sorts of foolishness and I listen to them and no
longer feel lonesome. What sweet faces they have-so pure,
so open! And what fine people they would be if they
received the education our Misha is given ! Sometimes
they come to see Misha in the master's yard, but I always
go away ; our house-serfs and even Glafira Lvovna are so
rude to them that I cannot bear it. They, the darlings, do
everything in their power to please my brother, they run
errands, catch birds and squirrels for him, and then he
abuses them. I cannot understand Glafira Lvovna, she is a
soft-hearted creature, she always cries when she hears a sad
story, and at the same time she can be positively brutal to
them. As if ashamed of herself, she always says : 'They
don't understand, you can't treat them like human beings,
they will only take advantage of it. ' That I do not believe.
No doubt that is because of my mother's peasant blood in
my veins. I always talk to the peasant women as I do to
others, as I do to everybody, and they are fond of me,
they make me presents of baked milk and pieces of honey­
comb ; true, they do not bow to the waist to me as they do
to Glafira Lvovna, but on the other hand they always greet
me with smiles and cheerful faces. I cannot understand
why the peasants of our village are so much nicer than our
rich neighbours and the guests who visit us from the gu­
bernia centre. The peasants are much more clever, too,
even if all those horrid landlords and o fficials and such
have received a proper education."
Is it conceivable that a girl brought up in the Negrovs'
patriarchal home without having ever left it in the course
of her seventeen years, a girl who had read little and seen
less, should feel as she did? The person who found this
journal must answer for its factual veracity ; as for its
psychological veracity, let me say a word in its favour. You
have already been told about Luba's peculiar positi�n in
her father's home ; gifted by birth with vast stores of
77
strength and energy, she met with affronts on every hand
because of the ambiguity of her relations with the entire
family, the position of her mother, the utter lack of delica­
cy displayed by her father, who considered that the blame
for Luba's birth fell on her shoulders rather than his, the
attitude of all the house-serfs, who, flunkeys that they
were, held her mother in contempt. How was Luba to
escap e from the rebuffs dealt her wherever she turned?
Had she been a boy she could have run off and joined a
regiment. Being a girl, she sought refuge within herself. For
years she endured her sorrow, her injuries, her idleness, her
thoughts. Little by little all that was seething within her
began to settle, and when she found no outlet for the
strong and natural need to confide in somebody, she seized
her pen and began to write-that is, b egan confiding her
troubles to herself, thus relieving her overburdened heart.
It does not require unusual insight to predict that
something is sure to come of the meeting b etween Lub a
and Krutzifersky. Not even years of aristocratic education
and life in high society are able to destroy in young people
the desire and ability to fall in love. Luba and Krutzifersky
could not help being attracted to each other. They were
alone, they were living practically in a wilderness. For a
long time the shy Candidate could not b ring himself to
exchange a word with Luba; they made each other's
acquaintance in silence. The first thing that b rought them
together was the familiarity with which Alexei Abra­
movich allowed himself to address members of his family
and his servants. Never in her life, as Luba herself declared,
did she become used to his rudeness. Naturally she was
even more affected by it in the presence o f others. Her
agitation and burning cheeks did not, however, prevent her
from noticing that her fahter's manner had the same effect
on Krutzifersky. It took him a much longer time to make
the same observation in respect to her, but once it was
made, a secret bond of understanding sprang up between
them. It was formed before they had hardly spoken two
words to each other. Whenever Alexei Abramovich b egan
carping at Luba or upbraiding sixty-year-old footman Spi­
ridon or white-haired Matvei, Luba would lift suffering
eyes, which until then had been bent on the floor, and
seek out Dmitri Yakovlich, whose lips would be trembling
78
and whose face would have broken out in blotches. With
the same hope of relieving his feelings, he would seek to
read in Luba's face what was going on in her s oul. They
did not s top to think where this ex change of sympathetic
glances might lead them for there was nothing whatever in
their surroun dings that could not o nly outweigh , but even
distract or hold within b ounds, t his newly-acquired sym­
path y ; on the contrary, the antipath y they felt for every­
thing and everyb ody else only fostered its develop­
ment.
I have no intention of relating word for word the love
story of my hero ; the muse has not endowed me with the
power of describing love :
Oh hate! 'tis thee I sing.
I will merely state brie fly that within two months of
the day when Krutzifersky first entered Negrov's home,
this gentle and e cstatic youth was madly, passionately in
love with Luba. Love b ecame t he axis ab out which his life
in its every aspect revolve d ; everything was subordinated
to it, including his devotion to his parents and his studies ;
in a word, he love d as only a high-strung and romantic
nature can love , he love d as Werther did, as Vladimir
Lensky did. A long time passed b efore he recognised what
this new feeling flaming within his breast was, and an even
longer time passed befo re he told her of it, before he dared
even conte mplate telling her ; but such things need n ot to
be contemplated, they come about of their o wn accord in
due time.
One day after dinner, when Alexei Abramovich was
resting in his study and Glafira Lvovna was resting in the
sitting-roo m, Lub a was sitting in the drawing-room liste­
ning to Krutzifersky read Zhukovsky's poetry. While
whirling in the accursed waltz della bufera infernale, Fran­
cesca da Rimini warned Dante of t he dangers of a young
man's reading anything but mathematics to a yo ung girl ;
she recalled how frivolous reading had led to a kiss and the
kiss to dire consequences. Our young people did not know
this, and for the last few days had been feeding their love
on Zhukovsky's poetry, a volume of which the Candidate
had brought with him. So long as they confined their
reading to " Ivik's Cranes" everything went well, but when,
having discovered the murderer in this ballad, they pro-

79
ceeded to read " Alina and Alsim", the following thing
happ ened.
Krutzifersky read the first lines in a trembling voice,
wiped the sweat off his brow and, with a sigh, succeeded in
reading the following lines :
When, in the bloom of life,
The moment comes .
. fior aye., ,. .
To say : "'B e mzne
At this point he broke off and wept as if his heart would
break. The b ook fell fro m his hands, his head sank on his
chest and he wept as only a man who is in love for the first
t�me can weep.
" What is it? " asked Luba, whose heart was also
beating wildly and whose eyes were filled with tears. ·

"What is it? " she repeated, fearing to hear the answer.

Krutzifersky seized her hand and, carried away b y
some new and. unknown force (which yet did n o t give him
courage to raise h"IS eyes ) , sai" d : " B e my Al.ma.I I ... I . . . . "
He could say n o more. Quietly Luba withdrew her hand.
Her cheeks were flaming, she wept softly, she le ft the
room. Krutzifersky made no effort to detain her, it is
doubtful that he even wished to do so. " Good God ! What
have I done! " he thought. "What have I done ! ... And yet
... she withdrew her hand so quietly, so shyly .... " And
again he wept like a child.
In the evening of that same day Eliza Augustovna said
to Krutzifersky playfully :
"I do believe you must be in love, you are so downcast
and absent-minded." Krutzifersky blushed to the ears.
" See how clever I am at reading people's minds !
Would you not like me to tell y our fortune with cards ? "
Dmi tri Yakovlich experienced all the sensations a
hardened criminar might experience under cross-exami­
nation when he does not know how much the investigator
has found out and what he is hinting at.
" Well, would you not like me to? " asked the i mportu­
nate Frenchwoman.
"I should be very much obliged," replied the young
man.
And so, with a demoniacal s mile on her lips, Eliza
Augustovna set out the cards, saying as she did so :
80
 " Ah , here is the queen de vos pensees . . .and you are
very lucky, she has taken her place next to your heart . . . .
C o ngratulations, congratulations ! . . . See? -the ace of
hearts . . . . Sh e loves y o u dearly . .. . And what is this ? Oh, she
dares not confess to you. What a hard-hearted lover you
are, making her su ffer so ! ... "
And so on and so forth. With every word Eliza Augus­
tovna fixed her sharp little eyes on her victim and heartily
enj oyed the tortures she was causing him.
"Pauvre jeune hom me, she will not make you suffer
so. Hers is not such a stony, stony heart. Have you
never spoken to her of your love? I am sure you have
not. "
Krutzifersky turned white, red, blue, yellow, and at
last rushed away. As soon as he reached his room he seized
a piece of paper and with pounding heart poured all his
rapture into a letter, a poem, a prayer. He wept and was
happy. In a word , as he wrote he enj oyed moments of
complete bliss. Such m oments, brief as lightning flashes,
are life's rarest and most precious o nes, yet we do not
appreciate the m ; instead of giving ourselves up wholely to
the enj oyment of them, we hasten on in anxious expecta­
tion o f what the future has in store.
His letter finis hed, Krutzifersky went downstairs. They
had tea Lub a was confined to her room by a headache.
Glafira Lvovna was particularly charming, but nobody paid
her the slightest attention. Alexei Abramovich smoked his
pipe with the appearance of one sunk in deep reflection (I
trust you have not forgo tten that this was an optical illu­
sion). Eliza Augus tovna found an o pportunity when step­
ping forward for her cup of tea to tell Krutzifersky she
must speak to him. Conversation lagged. Misha teased the
dog, the dog barked, Negrov ordered that it be taken out.
In due time the serving-maid in the fro ck with linen sleeves
took away the samovar. Alexei Abramovich began playing
solitaire , Glafira Lvovna complained of a headache. Krutzi­
fersky went into the drawing-ro om. Twilight set in. Eliza
Augustovna was there b efore him.
" Go out on the b alcony when it is dark ; so meone will
be waiting for you there," she said.
Krutzifersky felt more dead than alive. Could he
believe her? A meeting had been arranged ; perhaps the

6-171 81
indignant Luba wished to pour out her wrath upon him ;
perhaps. . . . He ran into the garden ; he seemed to catch a
glimpse o f a white frock in the distance, at the end o f the
avenue of limes, but he dared not pursue it, he was not
sure that he would even go to the balcony .. . unless it was
for just a moment, just to give her his letter . . . but the very
thought terrified him. He glanced up. Despite the darkness ,
he could make out a white figure in the corner. It was she,
his thoughtful, sorrowful love ; she, who perhaps returned
his love. He put his foot on the first step leading from the
garden to the balcony. How he reached the top is beyond
comprehension.
"Ah, is it you? " whispered Luba.
He stood in silence, gasping for air like a fish out of
water.
"What a glorious evening! " said Luba.
" Forgive me, for God's sake forgive me," replied Kiu­
tzifersky, taking her hand in his own, which was as cold as
a dead man's. Luba did not withdraw hers.
" Read these lines," he said, " and you will know what I
find such difficulty in telling you."
Once more the tears streamed down his flaming
cheeks. Lu ba squeezed his hand. He watered her hand with
his tears and covered it with his kisses. She took his letter
and hid it in her bosom. I do not know how it came about,
but, emboldened by her response, his lips met hers. Love's
first kiss ! Pity him who has never known it ! Luba, carried
away, returned it with a long, trembling, impassioned kiss.
Never had Dmitri Yakovlich been so happy. He lowered his
head on his hand and wept, and suddenly, on raising his
eyes, he let out a cry :
" Good God ! What have I done ! "
It was only at this moment he perceived that the
woman was not Luba but Glafira Lvovna.
" Calm yourself, my friend," said Glafira Lvovna in a
voice faint with feeling ... but Dmitri Yakovlich had
dashed down the stairs. He rushed through the garden ,
through the avenue of limes, through the orchard, through
the village , and dropped down on the road in a state of
collapse. Suddenly he remembered that his letter was in
Glafira Lvovna's hands. What was he to do? He tore his
hair and rolled in the grass like an enraged beast.
82
 In order to explain this strange guid pro quo we must
make a brief digression.
Eliza Augustovna' s little eyes, very sharp and discrimi­
nating in certain matters, had observed that ever since Kru­
tzifersk y had entered the Negrov household Glafira Lvovna
had become more attentive to her appearance , that she
arranged her blouses more carefully, acquired new collars
and caps, took more care of her hair, and Palasha's thick
braid, that had the misfortune of being the same colour as
her own, was unearthed once more and attached to her
fast-diminishing locks even though it had become a little
moth-eaten. The soft and cushiony face of this m ater fa­
milia revealed expressions that had been lying dormant
under the fat-now a smile, which brought an oily look to
the eyes ; now a sigh, which brought a honeyed look to
them. Not one o f these details went unobserved by Eliza
Augustovna. When she chanced one day to enter Glafira
Lvovna's room in her absence, and likewise chanced to
open the drawer o f her toilette table and discover an open
jar of rouge vegetal that had lain untouched for some fif­
teen years in the cupboard beside some eye drops, a voice
within her cried out : "The time has come for me to make
my entrance ! " That very evening, on finding herself alone
with Glafira Lvovna, she told her about a certain p rincess
(naturally a princess ! ) who became interested in a certam
young man, and how her heart ( that is, Eliza Augustovna's
heart) was touched to see the dear princess pine and
languish, and how in the end the princess fell upon the
neck of her only close friend (Eliza Augustovna) and
confessed all her doubts and sufferings and begged for her
advice, and how she ( Eliza Augustovna) had given her
advice and dispelled her doubts, and how after that the
princess stopped pining and languishing and, on the contra­
ry, became plu mp and cheerful. These confidences lighted
lamps in Glafira Lvovna's soul. It is commonly thought
that fat people are incapable o f feeling passion. What
calumny ! Once they have caught fire, fatty substances
burn longer than others. In this particular case, Eliza
Augustovna acted as a bellows fanning the erotic sparks
into a mighty flame. She did not go so far as to squeeze
the whole truth out of Glafira Lvovna, she displayed a
certain magnanimity in this matter; she did without a full

6* 83
confession because she had no need of it; she wanted only
to get Glafira Lvovna in her power, and this she undoub­
tedly achieved. Within a fortnight Glafira Lvovna pre­
sented her with two gifts : a woolen shawl of the famous
Kupavna mills, and one of her own cast-off silk gowns.
Krutzifersky, chaste in thought as in deed, did not
guess the reason for the French lady's meaningful atte­
ntions and ambiguous hints, nor of the ambiguous looks of
Glafira Lvovna. His innocence, his shy absent-mindedness
and lowered eyes fed the fires of this forty-year-old wom­
an's passion. A piquant flavour was added by the strange
inversion of the usual relations o f the sexes : Glafira
Lvovna played the role of tempter and conqueror, Dmitri
Yakovlich of the innocent girl about whom the designing
spider weaves his web. The genial Negrov, observing noth­
ing, went as usual to ask the gardener's wife ab out the
health of the fruit trees. In a word, peace and quiet reigned
as usual in Alexei Abramovich's patriarchal home .
We are now ready to go back to the balcony.
Glafira Lvovna, wondering why her Joseph should have
decamped so precipitously, cooled her sp irits for a while in
the evening air, then retired to her bed-chamber where ,
finding herself alone, or rather, accompanied only by Eliza
Augustovna, she took out the letter; her expansive b osom
heaved, her fingers trembled as she unfolded the p aper, she
began to read and suddenly let out a shriek as if a frog o r a
t oad hidden in the letter had jumped into the neck of her
gown. Three servingmaids rushed into the room. Eliza
Augustovna snatched the letter. Glafira Lvovna c.alled for
toilette water, instead of which the frightened serving-maid
brought ointment, which her mistress ordered her to p our
on her head. "A h, le traftre, le scelerat. Who could have
expected such a thing from our shrinking violet-that
English girl of ours. Oh, no, nothing can improve inherent
vulgarity. Not a spark of gratitude , not the least spark ! I
nurtured a viper! " Eliza Augustovna found hersel f in the
position ot a certain functionary o f my acquaintance who ,
havin g used circumvention all his life , turned in his resigna­
tion with the expectation that it would be rejected and his
position made all the more secure by the threat o f losing
his invaluable services ; what was his surprise when the re­
signation was accepted! Accustomed to fooling o thers, he
84
 ended up by fooling himself. Eliza Augustovna was smart
enough to realise what had happened, what a faux p a s she
had made. At the same time she knew that she and Glafira
Lvovna were as much in Krutzifersky's h ands as he w as in
theirs. She foresaw that if Glafira Lvovna's j ealousy should
irritate him he might expose her, Eliza Augustovna. If he
lacked proof of her participation in the affair, he could at
least sow dis trust in Alexei Abramovich's mind. While she
was wondering how to calm the wrath of the abandoned
Dido, Alex ei Abramovich came in, y awning and making
the sign of the cross over his mouth . Eliza Augustovna was
in despair.
"Alexei ! " ex claimed his furious wife. "Never in my
life could I have foreseen such a thing! Fancy , my dear­
this modest schoolmaster is . . . is writing notes to Luba,
and what notes ! He has ruined our poor defenceless
orphan ! I beg you to see that he is out o f this house
tomorrow ! And this has been goin g on in the presence o f
our own daughter ! T o be sure she is still a child,
but such a thing can leave its scar on her imagi­
nation ! "
Alexei Abramovich was not one to grasp a situation
quickly . He was as nonplussed by this particular situation
as he had been during their honeymoon, when Glafira
Lvovna had begged him to swear by his mother's grave and
his father's ghost to allow her to bring up the child of his
sin ful love. At present Negrov wanted nothing so much as
to go to bed; the moment was ill chosen for breaking the
news of the secret correspondence: a person wh9 longs for
sleep can feel nothing but antagonism towards anyone who
prevents his getting it; his nerves are unstrung, his system is
in a state of apathy.
"What's that? What sort o f notes is Lub a getting? "
" Notes from that student. There's your angelic little
lady for you! And indeed what else could y ou expect o f
such a low-b orn creature? "
"What's in the notes? Joined u p , have they ? Is that
it? No keeping the reins on a girl of seventeen ! So that's
why she's always sitting by herself, has headaches and all
that. I'll make that rascal marry her, that's what I'll do.
Has he forgotten in whose house he's living? Where 's the
letter? Bah, blast it ! Such tiny writing-calls himself a

85
teacher and scribbles these little mouse-tails. You read it,
Glafira."
" I wouldn't think o f reading anything so vile ! "
"Poppycock ! Forty years old and still playing the
innocent! Dashka! Bring me my spectacles from the
study."
Dashka, who knew only too well the way to his study ,
brought him his spectacles. Alexei Abramovich sat down
beside the candle, yawned, lifted his upper lip , thereby
adding dignity to his nose, narrowed his eyes and began
reading haltingly and with a heavy bookish articulation :
"Be my Alina. I love you madly, passionately , raptu­
rously . You name is Love . . . . "
"Ugh, what twaddle ! " remarked the General.
"I entertain no hopes, I dare not dream of receiving
your love in return , but my heart is brimming over, I
cannot refrain from telling you I love you. Forgive m e ; I
throw myself at your feet and beg your forgiveness . . . . "
"Stuff and nonsense ! And that's only the beginning o f
the first page. Enough, thank you. You can't expect yours
truly to read such balderdash ! Who se business w as it to
prevent this if not yours? What were you thinking o f?
Why did you let them get together? Well, nothing so
dreadful has happened. All wenches have long braids and
short brains. What have you found in this letter? Twaddle .
That is, nothing about . . . e r . . . that is, about . . . . Well, it's
high time Luba was getting married anyway and why
sh ouldn't he be her husband? The doctor says he has
tenth-rank rating. Just let him try and wriggle out of it!
Come, time to go to bed, everything looks different in the
morning. Good night, Eliza Augustovna; you've got sharp
eyes but you let this slip past you. We'll talk things over in
the mo rning."
The General began undressing and in two minutes was
snoring peacefully, having dozed off with the thought that
Kru tzifersky would not escape him, he would make him
marry Luba, accomplishing the double purpose of pun­
ishing him and settling Luba in life.
It had been a disastrous day. Glafira Lvovna could not
possibly have supposed that N egrov w ould respond in such
a way ; she forgot that of late she had been pressing him to
marry Luba o ff. In a fit o f frustrated middle-aged passio n ,
86
she threw herself on the bed ready to gnaw the pillow­
case-and perhaps she did gnaw it.
Meanwhile Krutzifersky was lying in the grass over­
whelmed by such a longing to leave this w orld that if the
Three Sisters still ruled the lives o f men they would not
have been able to endure the sight of his sufferings and
would mercifully have snipped his thread. In the deepest
state of depression, harassed b y shame and fear, fear and
despair, he ended up as Alexei Abramovich had begun-by
falling asleep. Had h e not been suffering from febris
ero tica (as Dr. Krupov diagnosed love) he would certainly
have suffered from febris catharralis; under the circum­
stances, however, the cold dew did him good; his sleep , at
first uneasy, gradually grew calm. When he woke up three
hours later the sun was coming up. Heine was correct in
saying there is no thing new about this: it always comes up
here and goes down there; but if there is nothing new
ab out it, there assuredly is something excellent about it, all
the more so to one in love. The air was fresh and saturated
with a p eculiar fragrance; morning haze was rising in white
billows, leaving behind it millions of scintillating dew­
drops ; the rosy light and unusual shadows of morning lent
a new and unexpected grace to trees, peasant huts and
surroundings; birds were singing in many voices, the sky
was pure and bright. Dmitri Y akovlich got up with a sense
of easement. In front of him the road wound an d disap­
peared from view ; he gazed at it for long and wondered if
he should not take to it, should not run away from these
p eople who had discovered his secret, his sacred secret, a
secret which he himself had dropped in the mire. How
could he go back to the house and meet Glafira Lvovna?
Better to run away ! But how could he leave her? How
could he find the strength to part with her?
Slowly he walked back to the house. On entering the
garden he caught sight of a white frock in the avenue o f
limes. A blush dyed his cheeks as h e recalled his dreadful
error and his first kiss. But this time it was Luba in front
of him ; she was sitting on her favourite bench gazing p en­
sively and sorrowfully into the distance. Dmitri Yakovlich
leaned against a tree and drank in the visio n in a state o f
transport. She was indeed strikingly beautiful at that mo­
ment; her mind was occupied by some grave thought; she
87
was sad, and this sadness gave majesty to feat�res th�t
were sharp and energetic, yet softened by youth � loveli­
ness. For a long time he stood contemplating her with eyes
full of love and reverence. At last he resolved to approach
her. He had to speak to her, to warn her about the letter.
Luba was a bit confused on seeing Krutzifersky, but her
confusion was natural and unaffected. She cast a swift
glance at her morning frock, in which she had not expec­
ted to meet anybody, swiftly adj� st� d it an� lifted cal!"ll
and steady eyes to his face. Dmi tn Yakovlich stood I!"l
front of her with his arms folded on his chest. She met his
entreating gaze full of love, suffering, hop e and adulation,
and she held out her hand to him. He p ressed it with tears
in his eyes. Ah, me! How splendid are people in their youth!
Luba had been deeply shaken by the declaration of
love inspired by the reading of "Alina and Alsim" . Her
feminine intuition, of which we have spoken above, had
told her long before that she was beloved, but it was mere
surmise unconfirmed by words. Now the word had been
spoken, and in the evening she had made the following
entry in her journal:
"I can hardly call my thoughts to order. How he did
weep ! Merciful heavens, I never supposed a man could
weep like that! There is some force in his gaze that makes
me tremble, and not from fear; his gaze is too tender to
inspire fear, and so gentle-as gentle as h is voice. I pitied
him s o ! Had I obeyed the dictates of my heart I would
have told him I loved him and have kissed him to comfort
him. How happy I would have made him ! Yes, he loves
me, I see that, and I love him. What a world of difference
there is between him and everybody else I have met! He is
so noble and tender. He told me about his parents-how he
does love them ! Why did he say to me 'Be my Alina! '?
I have a name of Il!Y own and a very nice one at that; I
love him and can be his without giving up my own nature.
But am I worthy of his love? I fear I am incapable of
loving deeply. Again those black thoughts that forever
haunt me . . . .
"

" Goodbye," said Luba. " And do stop vexing y ourself

with that letter. I have no fear o f those p eople , I know
them too well. "

88
 She gave his hand a friendly, encouraging squeeze and
disappeared amo ng the trees. Krutzifersky was left alone.
They had talked for a long time, and the happiness that
filled him now exceeded the misery o f the previous
evening. In his mind he went over every word she had
spoken, his fancy lifted him to incredible heights, every­
thin g in his universe was interlaced with a single image:
hers. She was everywhere, everywhere. Presently his medi­
tations were interrupted by the boy summo ning him to
Alexei Abramovich. Never before had Negrov asked to see
him at this hour of the morning.
"What's that ? " asked Krutzifersky with the look of
one who has just had a basin of cold water poured over his
head.
"Just that-the master wants to see you," replied the
boy roughly.
It was clear that the story of the letter had reached the
servants' quarters.
" Very well, " said Krutzifersky, overcome by fear and
shame.
What had he to fear? There seemed no doubt about
Luba's loving him, and what else mattered? Even so he
was more dead than alive from fear, more dead than alive
from shame. It never occurred to him that Glafira Lvovna's
position was quite as bad as his .own. He could not face the
prospect of encountering her. It is well known that crimes
have been committed to escape embarrassment.
"Well, my good man," said Negrov with the dignified
and imposing mien of one engaged in deciding a weighty
matter. "Is that what they teach you in the university?­
to write love letters?·"
Krutzifersky made no reply ; he was in such a state o f
agitation that Negrov's tone did not offend him. The sight
of th e young man's suffering and confusion acted as a spur
to the brave General, who went on in a loud voice, looking
Dmitri Yakovlich straight in the eye :
"How dare you play such tricks in my house, young
man? What do you take my house for? What do you take
me for, a puling idiot ? It's shameful, young man, it's
immoral to corrupt a poor girl who has no parents, no
protectors, no fortune. What is the world coming to? And
all because they teach young men like you grammar and
89
arithmetic instead of morals. To dishonour a young girl,
cast a slur on her good name . . . .
"

"What are you saying? " put in Krutzifersky whose

indignation had gradually become stronger than his dis­
comfiture. "What have I done ? I love Lubov Alexandrov­
na" (they had given her the patronymic of Alexandrovna
as a cross between Alexei, her father's name, and Aksyon,
the name of the butler who had married her mother) "and
have had the courage to say so. I myself believed I would
never tell her of my love-I cannot explain how I came to
do so, b ut what do you find criminal in my behaviour?
Why should you conclude th;:tt my intentions are b ase ? "
"This is why : because if your intentions were honest
you would not upset the poor child with your billets-doux
but would come direct to me. Knowing as you do that I
am her father by the flesh, you ought to have come and
asked my consent and permission ; b ut you chose to sneak
in by the back door and you got caught ; let me tell you I
will not allow such fiddle-fadding in my house . A fine
thing, turning the poor girl's head ! I never expected such
tricks from you ! You showed great talent in playing the
role of a shy retiring scholar, and she has distinguished
herself too. A fine way to thank us for all we have done
for her ! Glafira Lvovna cried all night long. "
"You hold the letter," observed Krutzifersky. " You
have only to read it to see that it is the first. "
" You have not made a good beginning. In this first
letter of yours do you ask for her hand? "
"Oh, no ; I did not dare. "
" How is it you are so bold in some things and so timid
in others?· What was your purpose in covering a whole
sheet of note paper with these little mouse-tails? "
"Indeed I never dared even to think of asking for her
hand ! " said Krutzifersky, overcome by Negrov's words.
" Pretty words. That's what they teach you-how to
befuddle people with pretty words. Allow me to ask you
one question : if I were to allow you to propose to Luba
and to marry her, what would you live on? "
Negrov was not a brilliant man, b ut he was generously
endowed with that national gift of making the best of·any
situ��ion � with that .practical turn of mind which we aptly
call havmg your wits ab out you". He wanted nothing so
90
 Vissarion B elinsky (1 8 1 1 -1 84 8 ) , an
eminent Russian literary critic who
studied at Moscow University with
Herzen and Ogarev. Water-colour by
Gorbunov painted in the 1 83 0s.

Nikolai Stankevich (1 8 1 3 - 1 84 0 ) . Russian

writer who studied at Moscow University
with Herzen and Ogarev. Water-colour
painted by B ekker in the 1 83 0s.
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Moscow University. Copy of a 1 9 th-century water-colour by an un­

known artist. The original building was d esigned by the famous
architect Kazakov; after the fire of 1 8 1 2 it was res tored by Guillardi.
Moscow. Krutitsky Monastery , used as gendarme barracks. From
August 1 834 to April 1 83 5 Herzen was imprisoned h ere. Lithograph.

Building in which Herzen was imprisoned. Photograph.

much as to marry off Luba to anyone at all, and this desire
had become especially acute since the time when he and
his wife noticed that their darling Liza was eclipsed b y
Luba's charms. Long before this affair o f the letter, Alexei
Abramovich had toyed with the idea of marrying Luba to
Krutzifersky and securing a situation for him in a gubernia
office. The idea sprang from the same source as his saying
that i f a good-natured Secretary turned up he would marry
Lub a to him. The first thought that came to his mind on
discovering Krutzifersky's attachment was that he would
make him marry her. He did not believe the letter was
serious ; he was sure the young man would resist b uckling
himself into the yoke o f marriage. But Krutzifersky's res­
ponse indicated that he was not opposed to getting
married, and therefore Negrov changed his tactics by
turning the talk to money matters, fearing that Krutzi­
fersky might raise the question o f a dowry.
Krutzifersky did not answer. The question lay like a
heavy weight on his heart.
"I hope ," went on Negrov, " . . . hope you are under no
illusions as to her fortune. She has no fortune and no
expectations. It goes without saying I will not allow her to
leave my house with nothing b ut what she wears on her
back, b ut my only contribution will be a trousseau. I have
a daughter of my own growing up . ' '
Krutzifersky declared that h e found the very concept
of a dowry irrelevant. Negrov was pleased with himself and
thought : " There's a lamb for the slaughter-and a learned
one to b oo t ! "
" So that's how it is, my good man ; clever people do
not begin from the end; before writing those bille ts-doux
and stirring things up you ought to have looked ahead; if
you really love her and intend asking for her hand, why do
you not think about your future ? "
"What am I to do ? " asked Krutzifersky in a voice that
would have gone to the heart of anyone who had a heart.
"What are you to do ? I b elieve you have been accor­
ded a civil service rank-the tenth, if I am not mistaken.
Put aside that poetry and arithmetic of yours and ask for a
post in the Tsar's service ; you've frittered away enough
time ; now you must think of being useful. Why should you
not enter the Revenue Office ? The Vice Governor is a
95
friend of mine, in time you will become a Counsellor­
what more could you wish? Money in your pocket and an
honoured position in society."
Never in his life had Krutzifersky contemplated be­
coming a clerk in the Revenue Office or any other office ;
he could as easily imagine himself being a Counsellor as
being a bird, a hedgehog, a wasp, or I don't know what.
And yet he felt that Negrov was b asically right. The Can­
didate was too undiscerning to see the inconsistency in
Negrov's asserting that Luba had no fortune and no expec­
tation of receiving any, and at the same time disposing of
her han d as her father.
"I feel I am better equipped to become a school mas­
ter," Dmitri Yakovlich brought out at last.
" Oh, that is an inferior post. What is a school master?
Hardly a functionary, never invited to visit the Governor,
only the gymnasium director .. . a miserable salary .... "
This last speech was pronounced perfunctorily. Negrov
was completely satisfied with negotiations, certain that
Krutzifersky would not slip out of his grasp.
"Glafira ! " Negrov called into the other room. " Gla­
fira! "
Krutzifersky froze on the spot ; he was sure that Glafira
Lvovna's last kiss of love had meant as much to her as his
first kiss of love had meant to him, even if delivered to the
wrong address.
"What is it? " replied Glafira Lvovna.
" Come here. "
Glafira Lvovna entered with a proud and haughty mien
that neither became her nor disguised her agitation. Unfor­
tunately Krutzifersky did not see this because he dared not
raise his eyes.
" Glafira, Dmitri Yakovlich has asked for Luba's hand,"
said Negrov. " We ·have brought her up as if she were our
own daughter and so have a right to give her away. Still, it
would be best to speak to her, and that is a woman's task."
"Good gracious ! You wish to marry her? How unex­
pected ! " she said caustically. "This is like a scene from
The New Eloise ! " .
H ad I been in Krutzifersk y's place I would have
compete d with the learned Glafira by remarking that the
balcony scene of the previous evening might have been
96
taken from Faublas. Krutzifersky made no remark at all.
Negrov got up as a sign that the interview was at an
end.
" But there can be no talk of marrying Luba until you
have found a situation," he said. " After all that has taken
place I warn you to be careful, sir; I shall keep a sharp eye
on you; it is hardly proper that you should remain in my
house. Bless my soul, what a responsibility that Luba
turned out to be ! "
·Krutzifersky went out. Glafira Lvovna spoke of him to
her husband with lofty contempt and finished her speech
by adding that a girl as cold as Luba would marry anyone
but bring happiness to no one.
On the following morning Krutzifersky sat in his room
deep in thought. Scarcely two days had passed since his
reading of " Alina and Alsim" and here he was practically
betrothed. She was to be his wife and he was to find
himself a new situation. How odd were the workings of
fate, which had raised him to the very height of human
bliss ! And by what means? By his having kissed the
wrong woman and given her a letter meant for someone
else ! Was not this a miracle ? A dream ? As he went over
and over in his mind every glance Luba had turned on him,
every word she had spoken to him in the avenue of limes,
his soul expanded and he felt solemnly exalted.
Suddenly he heard heavy steps on the steep stairs
leading to his room. He started and awaited with apprehen­
sion the appearance of whoever owned that heavy tread.
The door opened and in stepped our old acquaintance,
Dr. Krupov. His appearance greatly surprised the Candi­
date. Once a week, occasionally twice, the doctor visited
Negrov, but never before had he entered Krutzifersky's
room. Some special contingency must have brought him
here.
" Blast these stairs of yours ! " he gasp ed, wiping his
forehead with the white handkerchief. "A fine room
Alexei Abramovich allotted you ! "
" Ah, Semyon Ivanovich ! " mur�ured the Candidate
hurriedly, blushing for some absurd reason.
" Bah ! " went on the doctor. " But what a view from
the window ! Is that white building in the distance the
Dubasov church? -off there to the right? "
7-171 97
 " Perhaps. Yes, I believe it is, but I am not sure,"
replied Krutzifersky, steadily gazing to the left.
" A green youth-green as a pickle ! How can you have
lived here all these months and not know what you see
from your window? That's youth for you ! Here, let me
feel your pulse. "
"I am perfectly well, Semyon Ivanovich. "
" Hm, just as I thought-'perfectly well'," scoffed the
doctor as he felt his pulse. " Rapid and uneven. Just a
momen t : one, two , three . . . four ... feverish, high-stru11g.
With a pulse like this a person makes all sorts of foolish
decisions; if your pulse were regular-putt, putt, putt-you
never would have made such a hash of things. Downstairs,
my dear boy, they are saymg, ' He wishes to get married.' I
could hardly believe my ears ! After all, I said to myself,
he is not a foolish lad, and I am the one who brought him
here ; no, I could not believe it. So I thought I would come
and find out for myself. And this is what I find: rapid and
uneven. Why, with a pulse like that a man might do even
sillier things than get married ! Who, I ask, makes vital
decisions in such a feverish state? Think it over, my boy.
First take a cure, restore your organ of thought-that is,
your brain-to a normal state so that the blood does not
interfere with its functioning. If you wish I will send a
feldsher to let some blood-oh, just a teacupful."
"Thank you very much but I do not feel the need of
it. "
" How can you feel the need or the lack o f need? You
have never studied medicine and I have. If you refuse the
blood-letting, take some salts. I have some here in my
bag."
" I am very grateful to you for your attention but I
assure you I am perfectly well and my desire to ... " he
stumbled over the. word "... to get married is not at all
frivolous but very serious and I cannot understand why
you should oppose it."
" On many counts," replied the old do ctor, assuming a
serious face. " I am fond of you, my boy, and so I feel for
you. In my declining years you, Dmitri Yakovlich, remind
me of my youth and of many things that occurred in the
past. Since I have only your good in mind, it seemed a
crime for me not to speak to you. How can you think of
98
 marrying at your age ? Negrov has tricked you into it. Just
see how e xcite d you are ! You do not wish to listen to me,
I can see that, but I insist that you l isten ; my age gives m e
t h e right to b e h eard."
" Oh, n o , Semyon Ivanovich," said the young man, pro­
vok e d by the old doctor's words. " I know that it is for
love of me, that you wish to do me a service, that you are
only telling me your o pinion , but unfortunately it will do
no good, it is too late. "
" I f that i s the only argument you can opp ose to my
opinion, you have not a leg to stand 0 1 1 , young man. It is
never too late to call a halt. M arriage?-br-r-r, what a hard
· thing marriage is ! And the trouble is that those who enter
the m arried state are t he ones who give the least thought
to what it entails, they only consider it later, at their
leisure, when it really is too late. Febris ero tica-nothing
else. How is a person to sob erly consider such a step when
his p ulse is b eating like y ours, my friend ? You are staking
your all on the cards. You may break the b ank. You m ay.
But what man in his right m ind is willing to take the risk ?
I f i t is a card game , y o u yoursel f are to blame and y o u
yourself are t h e one who i s punished : a caught thief gets
what he deserves. Bu t if it is marriage, you p ull so meone
else do wn with you. Do stop to consider what you are
doing, Dmitri Yakovlich. I am sure that you love her and
that she loves you, b ut t hat is of little consequence. Rest
assured that love will pass no matter what you do : if you
go away it will pass ; i f you get m arrie d it will p ass even
quicker. I myself have been in love , and not once but five
times , but the go od Lord spared me. When I come home o f
a n evening I can rest in peace from t h e day's lab o urs ; in
the daytime I b elong to my p atients, in the evening-a
game o f whist an d to b e d with a carefree m in d ! It I had a
wife t here would be children, noise, duties, and may the
whole world perish so long as my family is p rovided for !
It i s hard t o live i n one place, hard to m ove t o another ;
petty gossip buzzes in your ears, your m ind full o f house­
hold cares, no time for b o o ks any m ore, you must think o f
schemes for making money, for filling the larder. Now let
us look at you in your present circumstances. I dare s ay
you will find yourself at times with empty pockets. No
harm done, life has its ups and downs . I remember in my

7* 99
y o uth Anton Ferdinandovich (a gentleman of your
acquaintance ) and I would sometimes have but a ruble
between us-and b oth of us with healthy appetites and a
taste for smoking. We would buy a quarter of a pound of
tobacco and eat nothing but b read ; or else buy a pound of
ham and not smoke-and we roared with laughter and
cared not a fig. But when a man has a wife he feels sorry
for her, she will cry."
" Oh, no. This girl will not cry, she has the character to
endure deprivations. You do not know her."
"That, my good sir, is even worse; if she stamped her
foot and shouted you could wash your hands of her and go
away, but if she grows pale and thin without saying a
word, you make self-accusations : ' How could I have
brought the poor darling to such a pass ! ' You rack your
brains for a means of making money ; you will hardly find
honest means and will not stoop to dishonest ones, so you
think, and think, and to give your b rains a fillip you reach
for the bottle ; the sensation is pleasant-! know, I use a
certain tonic myself-and you indulge a second time . .. and
a third ... and there you are. Even if we assume you will be
provided with your daily b read, that is positively all you
can count on. Luba may be Negrov' s daughter and Negrov
may be rich, but I know him ; he is n ot liberal. For his
lawful daughter he has set aside five hundred serfs, but I
doubt he will give Luba more than five thousand rubles. Is
that capital for a gentleman? Oh, how I fear for you,
Dmitri Yakovlich ! Let those who have nothing better to
do with their lives take such a step ; you ought to spare
yourself. I would help you find another post, the main
thing is to get away from here, then your love will dissolve
in thin air. A very good place has become vacant in our
Gymnasium. Drop this childishness, be a man ! "
"I am truly grateful to y ou for your sympathy, Semyon
Ivanovich, but it is quite unnecessary. You are trying to
frighten me as if I were a child� I would sooner part with
my life than with my beloved. I dared not hope for the
happiness of obtaining her hand ; God Himself has b rought
it about."
" What a ninny ! " exclaimed the irrepressible doctor.
"And it is all my fault, why should I have recommended
you to this family? ' God brought it about' ! Not God b ut

1 00
Negrov, he has tricked you into it-he and your own
greenness. Well, at least I shall have my say and hold no­
thing b ack. My dear Dmitri Yakovlich , I have lived a long
time in this world , and though I do not boast of having
superior understanding, I have had wide experience. As
you kno w, our profession leads us not into the parlour and
the drawing-room but into the study and bed-chamber. I
have seen a great many people and have not allowed one to
pass me by without examining him inside and out. You see
people in liveries and masquerade costumes ; we go behind
the scenes. I've had my fill of family scenes ; no bashfulness
with us ; everything naked and in the raw. Ho mo sapiens t
Sapiens my eye ! Ferus is more like it; the most savage
beast is gentle in its own lair, b ut man becomes more
savage than a beast precisely in his own home. But what
am I driving at ? -ah, yes : well, then, I have formed the
habit of studying character, and I see that this girl is no
mate for you. Oh, I know-those eyes, that delicate com­
plexion, the quiver that sometimes passes over those
cheeks t But at heart she is a tigress that has not yet dis­
covered her strength. And you? Who are you? You
are the bride, y ou will become the wife. Will that suit
you? "
Cut to the quick by these last words, Krutzifersky re­
plied with a coldness unusual with him :
"There are occasions when a person sympathising with
another comes to that other's aid, but not by reading him
a lecture. Perhaps all that you say is true, I shall not
attempt to deny it, the future is hidden from our eyes, but
one thing I know : two possibilities are open to me and two
only : either to throw myself into the river o r become the
happiest of men. "
" Better to throw yourself into the river and be done
with it ! " said Krupov, who was also feeling piqued. This
time he took out the red handkerchief.
It is clear that this conversation did not produce th�
effect Dr. Krupov had hoped for. He may have been a
goo d physician for the body, but he had too heavy a hand
for treating the spirit. And he judged of the strength o f
love o n the basis of his own experience ; having been in
love many times, he considered himself qualified by prac­
tical experience, whereas it was just this that made him

101
incapable of judging the sort of love that o ccurs once in a
lifetime.
Dr. Krupov went away in a huff and at the supper
table in the Vice Governor's house that evening he held
forth for a whole hour and a half on his favourite subject.
He denounced women and family life, forgetting that the
Vice Governor had been married three times and had
several children from each wife.
His conversation with Krutzifersky had left almost no
impression on the young man ; I say " almost" because a
vague, indefinable sense of forebo ding remained, like that
elicited by the sinister cries of a raven, or by meeting a
funeral procession while hastening to join a gay party o f
friends. But all this was instantly obliterated by a glance
from Luba's eyes.

"Our story seems to have come to an end," I hear you

say with natural satisfaction.
" Sorry, but it has just begun," I reply apologetically.
"Come, we have only to send for the priest to marry
them ! "
"True, but I consider the end has been reached when
the priest is sent for to administer extreme unction-and
even that does not always signify the end. When a member
of the clergy is sent for to perform the marriage ceremony
a new story is begun even though the characters b e the
same. And now we shall meet these same characters and a
few others as well."

Chapter V

VLA DIMIR BEL TO V

In the town of.... But why should I bother giving pre­

cise astronomical and geographical data as to the time and
place of events ? Suffice it to say that in a certain year of
the 1 9th century, in the town of X, the nobility were
holding elections. The town was in a stir. The squeak of
carriage springs and the tinkling of bells were constantly to

102
be heard ; constantly to be seen were covered sleighs
belonging to various manor houses, loaded inside with all
sorts of goods and embellished outside by serfs in great­
coats and sheepskins girdled with long towels. On reac11ing
town, some of these serfs were accustomed to leaving the
sleighs and going on foot, bowing to the shopmen and
smiling to acquaintances standing in gateways; the rest
slept in every possible attitude designed to make sleep
impossible. One by one the main characters in the elections
were brought to the gubernia centre in carriages drawn by
han dsome steeds ; here we find retired comet Dragalov
adorning rooms he had hired (with his last money) by
hanging crimson curtains at the win dows ; he travelled to
the elections held in five gu bernias and to all the big fairs
and never lost at cards though he played from morning to
night, nor did he increase his fortune though he won from
morning to night. And here was retired General Khraschov,
a man of wealth, a great horseman despite his sixty-five
years, and an owner of his own serf orchestra; he had come
to the elections to hold four ground b alls and to decline
once more (on the plea of ill health) his nomination as
Marshal of the Nobility, a nomination always moved by
the good noblemen. In local drawing-rooms appeared frock
coats with black velvet collars, faded and out o f shape
from having lain between tobacco leaves for the past three
years ; along with the frock coats emerged uniforms of all
times and fashions : double-breasted, single-breasted, with
one epaulette, with no epaulettes , even militia uniforms.
Calls were made all day long. For three years these people
had not seen one another and it was with heavy hearts
they note d the increase of wrinkles, grey hair, fatness or
thinness ; the faces were the same and not the same: the
Genius of Destruction had left his mark on each one o f
them. An outsider, o n the other hand, could have n oted
with an even heavier heart a diametrically opposite pheno­
menon, namely, that nothing had changed, that these three
years had passed just as the preceding thirteen, and the
preceding thirty, had passed.
All conversation in the town was of candidates, judges,
Uyezd Marshals, dinners and balls. For three days the
Supervisor of the Civil Governor's Offices had been trying
to compose a speech ; he wasted two reams of paper

103
writing "Worthy gentlemen, esteemed members of the no­
bility of X gubernia.. . ", at which point he w ould stop and
consider whether it would not be better to begin by
saying: " Allow me to take advantage of the opportunity of
being once more in your midst. ... " or: " Happy to be once
more in your midst, I. . . . " Turning to his senior assistant he
remarked :
"Ah, Kuprian Vassilievich, it is a hundred times easier
to untangle the most complicated criminal case than to
write a speech."
"Why do you not ask Anton Antonovich to lend you
Model Compositions. If I am not mistaken there are some
speeches among them."
" An excellent idea! " exclaimed the Supervisor, deli­
vering a painful slap to his assistant's back. " Good for
Kuprian Vassilievich ! "
That very evening he remodelled the speech of Prince
Kholmsky from Karamzin's Marth a Posadnitsa to suit his
needs.
In the midst of these general and lab orious activities,
the town's attention, already strained to breaking point,
was attracted to a person whom nobody expected to see
there, not even comet Dragalov, who expected to see
everybody ; a person to whom no one had given a thought,
and for whom there was no place in the patriarchal circle
of these leaders of society ; a person who had, as it were,
dropped out of the blue sky, but in fact had arrived in a
handsome English dormeuse. This person was Vladimir
Petrovich Beltov, retired Gubemia Secretary. * Whatever he
lacked in title was made up for by his being the o wner o f
an estate boasting 3 , 000 serfs. This estate , called White
Fields, was well known to electors and ele cted alike, but
its owner was a kind of myth, a legendary figure about
whom the wildest tales were told, as they are told about
such exotic and fantastic lands as Kamchatka and Cali­
fornia. A few years before the time we are speaking o f it

* The Table of Ranks introduced by Peter the Great in 1 7 2 2 as

a measure of strengthening the bureaucratic organisation of both
civil and military service, established fourteen ranks, the 1 st being
the highest. The i:ank of Gubernia Secretary was a low one, the 1 2th ,
for Beltov had spent practically no time in the civil service.- (Tr. )

1 04
 was rumoured that Beltov, who had just graduated from
the university, enjoyed the patronage of a certain Minister;
_later it was said that Beltov had quarrelled with the Mi­
nister and to spite him had resigned his post. Nobody be-­
lieve d this. There are certain officials about whom pro­
vincials hold a definite and fixed opinion : such officials are
not to be quarrelled with and they are to be accorded the
highest estee m. Could Beltov have violated this rule of
conduct ? Hardly. He must have called down upon himself
his patron's just wrath by gambling, drinking, or eloping
with somebody's daughter-or rather, not somebody 's but
just anybody's daughter. Then it was said he had gone to
France, adding with superior knowledge and penetrating
foresight that he would never come back, that he belonged
to a masonic lodge in Paris that had sent him to America as
a conscience judge. "Very likely," observed many. "He
was left to himself so early in life ! His father, it seems,
died in the very year of his birt h ; his mother-but you
know what stock she came from ! Besides, she was a
foolish creature, very exalte and the child's tutor was abso­
lutely corrupt-showed no respect whatever for a person's
station." All of this was offered as an eil.. planation for the
way in .which he had neglected his estate, although his serfs
were known to be well-off and wore boots instead of bast
sandals. Gossip about him had been silent for the last three
years, and now here he was, this odd gentleman, this con­
science judge sent to America by a Paris masonic lodge,
this youth who, having quarrelle d with a patron deserving
the highest esteem, had gone to France never to return­
here he was, descending, like a bolt from the blew, on the
worthy inhabitants of X gubernia to present his candi­
dature at the elections. The people of X could not
comprehend his conduct. How could he prefer a post in
the gubernia to one in the capital? An d why should he
aspire to an elected post? And consider the contrast :
Paris-and this Assembly of the Nobility ; 3 ,000 serfs-and
the rank of Gubemia Secretary. Yes, he presented many
new problems to minds that were already overburdened.
The greatest mind in the town undoubtedly belonbed
to the Chairman of the Criminal Court ; it was he who
supplied final and irrevocable solutions to all the problems
troubling society ; it was him the local gentry consulted

105
about their family problems ; he was an exceedingly wise
man, a writer and a philosoph er. The only one who could
compete with him in authority was Dr. Krupov, Inspect <;> r
of the Medical Board, in whose presence even the Chau­
man felt abashed. But Dr. Krupov's influence was not so
widespread, especially after a certain lady, as well-bred as
she was sensitive, declared in the presence of many wit­
nesses : "I have the greatest respect tor Dr. Krupov, but how
can a man understand the workings of a woman's heart,
how can he appreciate delicate feelings, when he is capable
of examining dead bodies, of even touching them? " All
the ladies agreed with her ; they unanimously decided that
the Chairman of the Criminal Court, being innocent o f
such savagery, was the only one capable o f solving delicate
problems involving the feminine heart, to say nothing o f
other problems. Naturally enough the first question that
flashed through everybody's mind when B eltov put in an
appearance was : what would the Chairman, Anton Anto­
novich, say about his arrival? But Anton Antonovich was
not a man to whom you could bluntly put the question :
"What do you think of Gospodin Beltov? ' ' Far from it.
Moreover, for three days he disappeared as if on purpose
(and perhaps really on purpose), he was not even to be
seen at the Vice Governor's whist tables nor at General
Khraschov's tea table. The most inquisitive man in the
town and its most industrious investigator was a certain
Counsellor wearing the Order of St. Anna in his button­
hole, a decoration he manipulated so deftly that wherever
he was sitting or standing it could be seen from any corner
of the room. Well, this Counsellor with the Order o f St.
Anna in his buttonhole decided that on Sunday he would
go directly from the Governor's house (he could not pos­
sibly omit calling on the Governor on Sundays and holi­
days) to the cathedral, and if the Chairman were not there
he would proceed to his house. On arriving at the cathedral
the Counsellor asked the police sergeant stationed outside
if the Chairman's sleigh was among the vehicles standing
there. "It is not, sir," replied the sergeant, " and I douut
that His Honour will come because I just saw their coach­
man Pafnushka go into the pub . " The Counsellor accepted
this as an important piece of information: Anton Antono­
vich, he reasoned, would hardly allow himself to be driven

1 06
to the cathedral by a single horse, and the other coachman,
Nikeshka, was not qualified to drive his pair of spirited
bays. And so he set off for the Chairman's house without
entering the cathedral.
He found the Chairman, who was not expecting callers,
in domestic attire consisting of a long knitted j acket, loose
trousers and felt boots. He was a short broad-shouldered
man with an enormous head (brains need elbow-room ) ; the
features o f his face expressed his importance, his superi­
ority, a consciousness of power. Ordinarily he spoke
slowly and with an emphasis becoming a man entrusted
with the final decision in all questions. If anyone had the
impudence to interrupt him, he would stop, wait a mo­
ment or so, then repeat his last word with awesome stress
and continue in the same style and spirit with which he
had begun. He could not endure to be contradicted, and
indeed nobody ever contradicted him except Dr. Krupov ;
it never occurred to anybody else to argue with him even
though many disagreed with him. The Governor himself,
secretly admitting the man's intellectual superiority, spoke
of him as of a man of exceptional powers and said: " Chair­
man o f the Criminal Court? He deserves a much higher
post. What erudition ! And his judgements ! A very
Daniel ! He has sacrificed a great career by devoting so
much of his time to reading and study. "
So here we find this gentleman who had sacrificed a
great career to his love o f knowledge, sitting at his writing
table signing various papers, filling in the dotted lines
denoting how many lashes were to be given for vagrancy,
how many for illegal traffic in liquor, and so forth. On
completin g this task he wiped his pen dry, laid it on the
table, took a book in a morrocco binding off the shelf,
opene d it and began reading. Slowly a look of sweet, inex­
pressible contentment crept over his face. But his reading
did not last long; the Counsellor with the Order of Anna in
his buttonhole entered the room.
"I have been worried about you, sir, indeed I have. I
went to the Governor to offer my holiday congratulations
-you were not there ; played whist-you were not there ;
your sleigh was not at the cathedral; dear me, I said to
myself, can he be ill ? It can happen to anyone, you know.
What is the matter? I have been very uneasy about you. "

107
 "Much oblige d to you for y our concern. Can't com­
plain of my health, praise the Lord. Pray sit down , Gosp o­
din Counsellor. ' '
" I fear I a m disturbing you, Anton Antonovich. You
were reading? ' '
" What matter ? I have time for the muse and for m y
goo d friends as well. "
"Thank you, Anton Antonovich. As for books, I be­
lieve I am now in a position to supply y ou with the latest
ones-"
"I am not interested in the latest ones , " the Chairman
interrupted this diplomatic overture. " I have no use for
them . I have just been rereading 'Dushenka' for the hund­
redth time, and with new and amazing delight, I do assure
you. What wit ! What grace ! Un fortunately Ipp olit
Fy odorovich *, did not p ass on his talent to any o f the
young writers. "
Here the Chairman read the following lines :
Hate, whose biassed judgemen t truth defi'es,
Has many eyes
That pierce the cunning cover of most secret deeds.
The queen told n o t her sisters of her spouse.
One day, two days, and three, secret as a mouse,
She feigned to wait for him as good wzfe needs.
So feigned the sisters: "What gossip this:
What idle tongues purveying lies
That his Designs are evil
And his soul m ost vile ?. . .
"

" U p o n m y word ! " interrupted the Counsell or,

" Precisely what is b eing s ai d ab out the traveller who has
come to our t own ! Precisely ! But then p eople do enjoy
gossiping. "
After fixing him briefly with a stem glance, the
Chairman pro ceeded as if he had heard nothing :
Fiend he m ust be, the sisters did contend,
Horrid of form, fearful to the sigh t.
Yet in this fiend their sister to o k deligh t!
Whose fault it was not one of them co uld guess.
* lppolit Fyodorovich Bogdanovich, second-rate Russian poet of

the end of the 1 8th century.- ( Tr. )

1 08
 If Dushenk a would but c onfess
The secret of her sorry plight!
Sighing, she said her love w as but a ph antom brigh t
Who visited her cham ber every night.
She told them all the wonders of his stay-
And when and how; one thing alone she could n o t say :
Who h e was, this lover o dd­
Sorcerer or sn ake, spirit or god.
" These lines are not e mpty sounds but poetry with a
he art and soul. As for me, resp ected Gosp odin Counsellor,
I h ave no use fo r your new writers beginn ing with Vassili
Andreyevich Zhukovsky himself; this, of course, may b e
attrib ute d to a want o f understanding on m y p art , or to
defe cts in my e ducation . "
The Counsellor, who had read nothing i n his life but
the res olutions o f the gubernia Administration (and indeed
only those that concerned his own departm ent, his finer
sensib ilities requiring that he sign all others without
reading them), ob served :
" No doubt your judgement is correct, but I dare say
visitors fro m the capital are o f a different mind. "
" That is no concern o f m ine , " replied the Chairman. " I
know, and only to o well, that contemporary journals
to day sing the praises of Pushkin. I have read h im . His
verses are smooth, b ut without ideas and without feelin g;
as for m e , if there is nothing h ere" ( placing his hand b y
mistake on the right side of his breast ) "there i s nothing at
all. Empty word s . "
" I myself a m e xtrem ely fond o f reading, " said t h e
Counsellor, who. was having difficulty i n getting control of
the conversation, "but I have no time fo r it : all morning I
am busy with those accursed p ap ers -our adminis trative
affairs o ffer little fo od fo r h eart and mind-and in the
.
evenm g wh 1st" .. . po k er. . . . "
" Anyone who truly wishes to read ," objected the
Chairman with a restrained s mile , "will not give up his
evenings to card-playing. "
" That is tru e , certainly ; they say this Beltov, fo r
instance, never holds a card in his hand, gives all his time
to reading. "
The Counsellor made no reply.

1 09
 "I presume you have heard of his arrival? "
" I have heard something of the sort," dropped the
philosop her-ju dge casually.
" They say he is dreadfully learned ; quite in your line, ·
yes indeed; they say he even know s Italian. "
" Who are we to be compared with such a one? " pro­
tested the Counsellor with dignity. " Who are we ? We have
heard ab out Gospodin B eltov : he has travelled abroad an d
serv€d in the Ministry ; how are provincial bears like us to
compete with s uch a one ! On the o ther hand , we shall
wait and see. I personally have not had the honour o f
meeting him, h e has not deigned to call on me."
" He has not called on His Ex cellency the Governor
either, though he has been here some five days already . . .
ye s , b y dinnertime today it will b e exactly five days.
Maxim lvanovich and I were dining with the Chief o f
Police, and as I remember it w e h ad just got t o the pudding
when we heard sleighb ells ; Maxim lvanovich-that is a
weakness with him, as you know-could n o t re strain him­
self: ' With your permiss ion , Vera Vassilievna,' and up he
gets and rushes to the window. 'A carriage and six ! ' he
calls out, ' And what a carriage ! ' I j oined him at the
window. Yes indeed, a carriage and six and o f the very
fines t sort. I de clare it must b e Jochim' s workmanship . The
Chief of Police instantly sent out a sergeant. And sure
enough : Gospodin Beltov come from S t. P e ters­
b urg! "
" To tell you the truth," b egan the Chairman confiden­
tially, "I find something susp icious ab out this gentleman.
Either he has run through his fortune , or he has connec­
tions with the secret p olice , or he h imself is under p olice
surveillance. Judge for yourself: a m an who owns three
thous and serfs coming nine hundred versts to atten d an
election ! " ·

" You are entirely right, there can b e no doubt ab out

it. I confess to being impatient for you to mee t him ; then
we shall kno w what is what. After dinner yesterday I went
for a walk -Semyon lvanovich has p res cribed after-dinner
walks for my health-and I passed once or twice in front o f
the inn ; suddenly a young m an appears in the entrance. I
assumed it must be Beltov. I as ked one o f the waiters. ' Hi s
valet,' h e says. The man was dressed j u s t like o n e o f u s ,

1 10
nothing to indicate he was a servant . . . . Heavens above ! A
carriage has just drawn up at your doo r ! "
" What surprises you in that ? " remarked the Chairman
stoically. " I am o ften visited by my friends. "
"True , but . . . perhaps . . . . "
Just then a fat re d- faced housemaid in comple te
dishabille entered the room and said : " A gentleman has
come in a carriage. I've never seen him before. Shall I le t
him in? "
" Give me my dressing-gown, " said the Chairman , " and
adm it him."
The suggestion of a smile passed over his face as he
donned a frog-green dressing-gown. The Counsellor got up
in a state o f great excitement.
A man of about thirty, simply and respectably attired,
entered and bowed to his host. He was slender and well
built and his face o ddly combined go od-natured eyes with
supercilious lips, the expression of an estimab le gentleman
with that o f a rake, traces o f deep and melancholy reflec­
tion with traces of uncontrolled passion. Without in any
way sacrificing his o wn dignity, the Chairman rose out o f
his armchair and, without leaving the spot, created the
impression of advancing to meet his guest.
"I am Beltov, a local landlord. Having come here for
the elections, I considered it my duty to make your
acquaintance. ' '
" Very glad t o meet you," said the Chairman. " Very
glad indeed. Be so kind, my dear sir, as to take a chair."
They all sat down.
" Have you just come? "
" Five days ago. "
" And from where , may l ask ? "
" Fro m Petersburg. "
" I fear y ou will be wearied b y the mono tonous life o f
a provincial town after the bustle of the cap ital. "
" I cannot say , but I hardly think I will b e . I have b een
wearie d enough by life in big towns."
Let us leave for a few minutes, or rather fo r a few
pages , the Chairman and the Counsellor, who had enj o yed
nothing so much as this encounter since the day on which
he was decorated with the Order of Anna. He drank in the
newco mer with eyes and ears, heart and mind. There was

111
not a detail that es caped him : he noticed that the b ottom
button o f his waistcoat was unfastened, an d that he w as
missing a tooth on the right side o f his lower j aw, and s o
o n and so forth. But let us leave them an d concentrate our
atten tion, ·as did all the town's gentle fo lk , on the enigmatic
newcomer.

Chap ter VI

We have already learned that Beltov's father die d soon

after his b irth and that his m other was said t o b e exalte
and was largely b lamed for her son's questionable way of
life. Unhappily we must agree that she was one of the main
reasons why Beltov suffered so many setb acks in his
career. The story of her o wn life is not without interest.
She was born a peasant s erf; at the age of five she was
placed among the house s ervants ; the lady o f the manor
had two daughters and a husb an d ; her husb an d inves ted in
factories, made agricultural experiments, an d ended up b y
mortgaging his estate. Apparently assuming that with this
his econo mic mission in life was ended, he lay down and
died. His widow was horri fied by the state o f her affairs ;
she wept and wept and at las t wiped away her tears and
with the courage of a great personality set about improving
these affairs. Only a woman's b rain, only the heart of a
devo te d mother determined that her daughters s hould have
a proper dowry , could invent the means to which she re­
sorted in accomplishing her aim. She dried mush rooms and
raspberries for the market, she colle cte d willow wands for
weaving bas kets ; she underweighed the b utter she sold, she
stole timber fro m her neighb ours' woods, and she sold her
young serfs into the soldiery b e fore their time-all of these
things she did (this was long ago , an d machinations rarely
res orte d to today were common at that time), an d it must
b e said that the Zasekino lady enj oyed the reputation
among her neighbours of b eing an incomparable mother.
Among her late husb and's p apers she found a promiss ory
note s igned by a wo man who ran a b o arding school in
Moscow; she wro te to her and, on dis covering there was

1 12
little hope of getting the money, agreed that the woman
was to tak e three or four of her serf-girls and make gover­
nesses of th em for her own and other p eople's children. A
few years later the governesses returned to their mistre ss
with fancy diplomas attesting that they had mastered
French, arith metic, Russian history in detail and world
history in general, the Old and New Testam ents, an d so on
and so forth, in re cognition of which they had b een pre­
sented at graduation with gold- edge d volumes of Paul et
Virginie. Their mistress had a room prepared to receive
them and sought opp ortunities of placing them in families.
Just at this time B eltov's aunt was looking for a
governess for her daughters and, hearing that her neigh­
bour had a supply of them , applied to her ; they haggled
over the price, quarrelled, separated with bad feelings on
both sides, but came to an agreement at last. The aunt was
allo wed her own choice, and it fell on her who was to
become Beltov's m other. In two or three years he who was
to b e come Beltov's father returned to his country house.
He was a young and dissipated o fficer, now retired, with a
taste for gambling, drinking, shooting, demonstrating
daredevilry and pursuing any wom an under thirty with a
passable face. Despite these defects in character it would
be a mistake to assume that he was hopele ssly lost. Wealth,
idleness, lack of cultivation and b ad company " had depo­
site d s even pounds o f silt on him", as one of my acq uain­
tan ces is fond of putt ing it, but to his honour be it said
that t his silt did not cling to him. Having no regular occu­
pation he o ften visited his aunt, whose manor house was
only five versts fro m his own. He was attracted by Sophia
( the name of the governess ). She was a tall brunette with
dark eyes and a long thick brai d such as young girls wear.
Beltov thought it silly to pro crastinate when confronted
by such an opp o rtunity. Contrary to Vauban's syste m , he
attac ked immediately, without bothering to dig trenches
leading to the fortress. One day when he found himself
alone with her he put his arm round her waist, kissed her
and urge d her to walk with him in the garden that evening.
She tore herself out of his e mbrace and would have cried
out had she not been stayed b y s hame an d the fear of
having others know o f the incident. She rushed to her
ro om almost in a state o f collapse, and only then did she
•

8- 1 7 1 1 13
perceive the peril of her ambiguoas situation. Beltov,
vexed by her re sistance , went on fo rcing his attentions
upon her. He made her a gift o f a diamond ring which she
re fused to accept, he p ro mised her a watch which he did
not have , and he could not imagine why in the world this
lovely girl was so inaccessible to his wooing. He began to
be j ealous but knew of no rival. In utter exasperation he
resorted to threats and abuse. These too p roved in vain .
Then a brilliant idea occurred to him : he would o ffer his
aunt a large sum for Sophia, confident that her greed
would outweigh her show of virtue . But like most p e ople
who are guided by impulse, he could not contain himself
and committed the error of telling the p oor girl of his
intention. This naturally frightened her more than any­
thing else could have , and she threw herself at her mist­
ress's feet, tearfully told her everything and begged p ermis­
sion to go to Petersburg. Taken unawares, the aunt , who
was ignorant of Talleyrand' s rule never to fo llow impulses
of the heart for they are sure to be good impulses, was
touched by the girl's story an d agreed to give her her
freedom for the insignificant sum o f t wo thousand rub les.
"I myself paid that much for you, an d since then t hink
how much I have spent on y our fo od and clothing. Until
you are able to p ay me in full, send me a small sum o f one
hundred and twenty rubles a year and I will have Platon
fill in a passport for y ou ; he is a fool and would undoubt­
edly spoil a p aper bearing my cres t and you know how
dear such p aper is nowadays. " Sophia agreed to every­
thing, thanked her patron as te arfully as she had made her
con fession, and was somewhat pacifie d.
A week or so later Platon filled in a p assport stating
that she had an ordinary face , ordinary nose, ordinary
mouth and was o f middle height and h ad no distinguish ing
fe atures except that s he spoke French. Wit hin the month
Sophia asked the wife o f the b ailiff o f a ne ighbouring
es tate, who was going to Petersburg to p ut money in the
b ank and enroll her s on in a Gymnasium, to take her with
her; the enclosed sleigh was loaded w ith dried mushrooms,
jars of j am and honey , dried and p ickle d apple s, all o f
these things to be offered as gifts in t h e capital ; the
b ailiff's wife le ft room only for herself to sit in ; Sophia
had to perch on top of a keg of p ickle d apple s, an expe-
�

1 14
rience that taught her in the course o f nine hundred versts
that it was not as s o ft as s wan' s down. The gymnasium
student s at beside the driver. He was a long-legged lad o f
fourteen who s moked n ezhin root and p roved t o b e more
mature than his appearance sugge sted. Throughout the
journey he pressed his attentions on Sophia and had it not
b een for his mother's narrowed eyes (of the colour of
hog-wash ) he might have outdon e Beltov. Beltov, inciden­
tally, had made an attempt to kidnap Sop hia when she was
on her way to the b ailiff s house , and he most certainly
would have done so if his coachman had not b een so drunk
that he lost his way. In the discom fiture of his first taste o f
sour grap es, Beltov p ainted a false p icture o f his romance
to a company of card-players ; he decl ared that his aunt,
jealous like most old women, had sent So phia away be­
cause she had discovered the girl was head over e ars in love
with him ; in a way he was glad she was gone, for she took
with her incontestable signs o f his attentions. It is well
known that Euro pe ' s nomad tribes of gamblers as well as
of gyp sies never rem ain long in one place ; and so it is not
surprising that one of the gentlemen who h ad listened to
Beltov' s story found himself in Pete rsburg a few days later.
He was a close friend of Mme. J oucour, who kept a young
ladies b oarding school there. Mme. J oucour, who at the
age of fo rty still laced her s tays every day and advertised
her modesty by wearing gowns with high collars, was very
ex acting when it came to other p eople's morals. She
happened to m ention to her friend that she h ad en0aged a
rather strange young lady to supervise the girls in her
scho ol ; this young l ady b elonged to a rich woman in
gubernia and spoke French b e au ti fully. The nomad b urst
into loud laughte r : " Oh, o h ! Excellen t ! Superb ! Our old
acquaintance ! Ha, ha, ha l Why, I've seen her at Beltov's
thou sands of times - she used to co m e there at night when
everybody at his aunt's house was fast asle ep. " Concerned
for the school' s reputation, he confided to Mme . J oucour
that Sophia was expecting. Frightened out of her wits,
Mme. Joucour cried out : «Quelle dem oralisation dans ce
pays barb are! " In her indignation she forgot everything
else, including the fact t hat the m idwife living on the
corner of her street was b eing p aid to b ring up a p air o f
twins, one o f whom looked like Mme. J oucour, t h e other

8* 1 15
like her nomadic friend. So great was her perturbation that
she thought of calling in the police sergeant of their
district and even o f appealing to the French consul, but o n
second thought decided that these measures could b e dis­
pensed with; she simply drove Sophia out of the house
wi th o u t s o much as paying the money due her.
Mme. J oucour told this dreadful story to three other
boarding-school owners and these three informed all the
rest, so that wherever the poor girl applied for employ­
ment she was turned away. She thought of taking a situa­
tion in a private family, but how was she to do so without
any connections? She almost found a place out of town,
but before concluding the agreement the mother of the
family applied to Mme. Joucour for a reference, after
which she thanked Providence for sparing her daughter.
Sophia waited another week, counted her money, dis­
covered she had thirty-five rubles and no hope whatever of
getting any more ; the roo ms she occupied were beyond her
means and after considerable searching she moved into the
fifth or even sixth floor of an enormous house on Goro­
khovaya Street which was filled to overflowing with all
sorts of riffraff. The house was reache d by passing through
two dirty yards resembling the bottom of a dried-up pond ;
a tiny door, scarcely perceptible in the huge wall, led t o a
dark, damp stone stairway with crumbling steps that rose
endlessly and led to two or three doors on every landing.
At the very top, in " Seventh Heaven", as Petersburg wits
called it, one of the rooms was occupied by an old German
lady whose legs were paralysed and who for more than
three years had been lying beside the stove, a living corpse,
knitting stockings on weekdays and reading Luther's ver­
sion of the Bible on Sundays. The room was ab out three
paces in width, two of which the old lady found to be an
unwarranted luxury and therefore leased to lo dgers along
with the window that looked out upon the brick wall o f
the adjacent house. Sophia made an agreement with the
old lady to occupy this extra space. The room was dirty,
damp, dark and ill-smelling. The door opened upon a cold
corridor creeping with pale, red-headed, ragged, miserable
children whose eyes were inflamed by scro fula. All the
other rooms were crowded with drunken artisans. Seams­
tresses occupied the best rooms o.t that floor ; one never

1 16
Alexander Herzen. Drawing by Vitberg, 1 8 3 6.
View of Vyatka from the river. In this town Herzen lived in exile
from May 1 8 3 5 to December 1 83 7 . Lithograph of the middle of
the 1 9 th century.

..

Vladimir, the town in which Herzen lived in exile from january

1 8 3 7 to March 1 840 .
saw them at work; at least in the daytim e , but their way
of life indicated that they were far from being in
want: their cook, who lived in the same rooms , ran
to the pub five times a day to fill a jug with a broken
spout.
Sophia's persistent efforts to find a situation all turned
out to be fruitles s ; the go od German lady tried to help her
through h er only friend, another German lady employed
by a family with small children ; this friend promised to do
what she could for Sophia but to no avail. Sophia decided
as a last resort to become a housemaid; she found a place
and agreed to the payment o ffe red her, but when evay­
thing appeared to be settled the mistress was so astonished
by the distinguishing feature noted in her passport that she
said, "I am sorry, m y dear, but I cannot afford a house­
maid who speaks French . "
Sophia trie d h e r s kill a s a seamstress. The head 0 1 the
seamstresses was pleased with her stitch and paid her most
of the m oney s he had promised her, then she invited her to
tea, substituting beer for the tea ; she p ressed the poor girl
to move into their quarters but some secret repugnance led
Sophia to decline the invitation. This was accepted as an
insult by the head of the seamstresses, who slammed the
door behind Sophia and burst o ut with: " You'll come
crawling yet, my fine l ady ! We've got a lady fro m Riga
living with us who is as good-looking as you ! " That
evening the head of the seamstresses made some scathing
remarks ab out the poor girl to the police commissar, who
frequently dro pped in of an evening to refresh himself in
pleasant company after the day's labours ; so interested did
he become in Sophia that he immediately paid a call on
her German landlady.
" Good evening, frau-madame," said he. " How are you
getting on, eh? Time you was standing on those legs o f
yours, don't you think s o ? "
The old lady, hastily pulling on the cap she kept within
reach for e mergencies, replie d :
" De goot Lort tinks not zo . "
" And where might be that girl a s belongs to the
Telebeyevs and is living with you?"
" Here I am, " replied Sophia.
" So you speak French, do you? By what trickery did

1 19
you accomplish that, e h ? Let me hear you say something
in French. "
Sophia was silent.
" All a blu ff, eh? Come, say something. "
Sophia's eyes filled with tears but she remained silent.
"What do you say, frau-madame? Can she speak
French, eh? "
" She can very goot. "
" As good as you can dance a quadrille, I wager. You
might o ffer a man a drop o f schnapps, I' m chilled to the
bone. "
" I haf no schnapps," replied the Germ an lady .
" Too bad. Whose apple is this ? " (The app le w as a
present from the other German lady and was b eing p re­
served as a treat to accompany the reading o f Luther's
Bible on Sunday. )
"Mine ," replied the German lady.
" Too tough for your teeth ; y our French friend will e at
it for you. Well, go odbye," s aid the commissar, pocketing
the apple as he made for t he door on his w ay b ack to the
seamstresses' quarters in the best of spirits and with out
having done any real harm t o anybody.
The ensuing days dragged on in terminably. The u n­
fortunate girl languished in her sordi d surroundings, humi­
liated and insulted by eve ryb o dy and every thing. Had she
b een less cultivated she m ight h ave adjusted somehow,
might have found a way out even here , but education h ad
discovered in her such gentility and re finement that she
was ten times more sensitive to her environment than
another would have b een. She su ffered moments of such
exhaustion, such a draining o f all her life forces, that she
might have fallen very low indeed i f she had not b e en
save d b y the lo athsome, repulsive face vice daily presented
to her. At times the thought of taking poison entered her
min d ; at such times death seemed the only way out o f her
situation. Her despair was the greater b e cause she could
find nothing with which to rebuke herself. At o ther times
her heart was filled with h atred and resentment. In one
such moment she seized h er p en and, sc arcely realising
what she was doing and for what p urpose , wrote a
wrathful letter to Beltov. Here is the le tte r :
" I cann ot keep silence any longer. I a m writing "to you

1 20
 to enj o y what may b e the last pleasure o f my li fe , the
pleasure of expressing my conte mpt for you. Only too
willingly do I pay for the posting of this letter with my last
kop ek , meant to buy b read. I shall be sustained by the
thought of your reading these lines. Your b ehaviour
towards me in y our aunt's house showed you to be an
immoral lib ert ine, an unfeeling b rute ; in my ignorance I
found excuses for you, b laming y our b ad upbringing and
the companions among whom you wasted your life ; I also
felt it was my equivocal position that allowed you to
behave so . But the calumny , the low, ex ecrable calumny
with which you crowned your deeds, revealed to me the
extent o f your b aseness-not malevolence but precisely
that : b aseness ; for the sake of revenge, for the sake o f
satisfy ing y our petty vanity, you resolved to destroy a
de fenceless girl b y telling lies ab out her. For what reason ?
Did y ou ever truly love me? Search y our conscience for
the answer. Rejo ice ; y ou have accomplished your purp ose.
Your companion b lackened my character here, all doors
were close d to me, everybody looked upon me with rep ug­
nance, my ears were exposed to dreadful insults, I have
b een left at last without a crust o f b read. So now let me
tell you that I despise you as a p e tty, contemp tible crea­
ture. I daresay it is pleasant to hear these words coming
fro m your aunt's house maid. I assure you it is pleasant for
me to i magine the wrath, the helpless fu ry with which you
read these lines. After all, you are looked upon as a gentle­
man and would no doub t put a bullet through the head o f
an equal who dared say such a thing t o you."
B eltov was lying on the couch sorely vexed with him­
self for having suffe red heavy losses at cards when his man,
who had just returned fro m town, b ro ught him So phia' s
letter. No t knowing her handwriting he opened it with
unconcern. The reading of the first line caused his hand to
tremble bu t he calmly read to the end, got u p , folded the
letter care fully and sat down facing the window. For two
hours he sat thus ; tea had long got cold on the tab le
without his taking so much as a sip of it ; his p ipe had long
b een s moked out and he had not called his boy. When at
last he roused, he felt as if he had undergone a severe and
lingering illness ; he felt tired, there was a humming in his
ears and a weakness in his arms and legs ; h e ran his hands

1 21
once or twice over his head as if to make sure it was there;
he was cold an d as white as a sheet. He went into h is b ed
chamber, sent out his man and threw himself down on the
couch without taking off his clothes. An hour later he rang
for his servant and on the following day at dawn a chaise
rumbled over the dam at the mill and four horses drew it
easily up the hill. " Where is our master go ing? " asked one
of the millers who came out to see. " To Petersburg they
say," replied another.
Six months later the same coach-and-four rumbled
over the dam in the opp osite direction. The m aster was
returning with a mistress. The local priest, who called on
Beltov to congratulate him on his return, said to his wife in
astonishment when he go t ho me :
"Wife, ah wife ! Do you know who the new m istress
is? The gove rness sent to Vera Vassilievna by the landlady
of Zasekino. The ways of the Lord are truly inscrutable ! "
"Think o f that ! " replied his wife. " One of your p roud
hussies, I daresay ! "
" Come, do not malign her," replied the priest. " She is
very amiable and willing to convers e. "
Beltov's aunt, who had b een angry with him for two
days on learning . that he had made advances to Sophia,
now crossed him out of her life and died without setting
eyes on him fro m the mom ent of t he d isclosure. She was
fond of saying she would have lived to be a hundred had
not this disgrace robbed her of sleep an d appetite. That
seems to be one o f the qualities of a woman' s heart. The
young wife herself could never get over the dreadful ex ­
periences preceding her marriage. There are gentle an d
sensitive natures who.se very sensitiveness keeps them from
breaking under t he pressure of grief, who may even give
the appearance of having cast it o ff b ut who are in fact so
deeply wounded that an entire lifetime is not long eno ugh
to e ffect a cure. The sufferings they h ave gone thro ugh
become a so rt o f malignant substance that enters their
blood, their very lives , now hidden , now breaking forth
with a terrible force that destroys their b o dies. Such a
nature was Sophia's. Neither her husb and's love nor the
beneficent influence which she exerted over him could
destroy t he dreadful canker in her heart. She was afraid of
people, was pensive , timorous , and withdrawn, was p ale ,

122
 thin and distrustful ; she see med always in expect ation o f
dis aster, often wept and sat i n silence for hours o n the
balcony.
Within three ye ars of their marriage Beltov caught a
chill and was dead in five days ; his b o dy , weakened b y the
excesses of his previous life , could not withstand the fever ;
he die d while in a state of unconsciousn ess. Before his end
Sophia had brought his two-y ear-old son to him. So wild
was his glance that the alarmed child had strained away
fro m him with outs tretched arms.
His death was a great blow to So phia. She loved him
for t he fie rce strength of his repentance. She p erceived the
gold of his true nature hidde n under the dross his sur­
roundings had i mposed upon it. She appreciated the
change in him. She even loved the o ccasional relapses he
suffered of wild incontinence and wuestrained indulgence.
After the death of her husb and Sophia concentrated all
the for�e of her morb id sensitivity on the upbringin0 o f
her s on. I f h e slept fitfully at night, she did n o t sleep a t all ;
if he was unwell, she was ill ; in a word, he was the b reath
of life to her, s he was his wet-nurse , his nurse maid, his
cradle, his toy. This abnormal love fo r her son also sp rang
fro m the canke r in her soul. All her thoughts were tinged
by the fear of lo sing him. Often she gazed despondently at
the sleeping in fant and held a trembling hand in front o f
hi s m outh t o assure herself h e was breathing if she fancied
he lay too still. Desp ite his mother's "inner voice" , which
was wh at she called her morb id fears , the child grew, and if
he was not excessively robust he was assuredly not sic kly.
His m other never left White Fields ; the boy grew ur' in
solitude and, like all solitary children, was wise beyond his
ye ars ; added to the in fluence of outside circumstances
were unmist akable evidences of excep tional inborn capabi­
lities and fo rce of character.
The time came fo r him to be given a fo rmal education.
Sophia went with h i m to Mosco w to look for a tutor. In
Mo scow lived an uncle of her late husb and who was an
eccen tric desp ised by all his kin , a tetchy b achelor,
ex tre mely clever, ex tre mely i dle, and made extre mely
obnox ious by his queer ways.
At t his point I cannot re sist s aying a few words ab out
this e ccentric old man. I am alway s fascinated by the b io-

1 23
graphies of people I meet. The lives o f ordinary men
appear on the surface to be alike, but that is only on the
surface ; nothing is more original and diversified than the
biographies of ordinary people, especially when , not
united by a common idea, each develops in his own way,
unhindered by gui ding motives-in the manner of the
wind, that bloweth where it listeth. If I could, I would
write a dictionary of biographies in alp habetical orde r
beginning, say , with men who shave their beards . To pre­
vent its being too b ulky I would leave o ut the biographies
of great scientists, writers, artists, generals, states men- o f
al l men , i n fact, engaged i n p ublic life : their b iograpnies
are inde ed alike and te dious. Talent , success, persecution,
adulation, a scholar' s life or a li fe lived in the open, death
at the height of one's career, p overty in old age-thes e are
matters determined by the epoch rather than the indivi­
dual. This, then, is why I am not averse to making b io gra­
phical digressions : they reveal the extraordinary wealth o f
the universe. Readers who s o desire may skip these digres­
sions, but in so doing they will s kip much of the story as
well.
And so we come to the biography of Beltov's uncle.
His father, a landlord in the s teppe who always con­
tended that he was p overty-stricken, wore a sheepskin ,
too k his rye , oats and buckwheat to market in the gu­
bernia centre himself and, in the accep ted manner, under­
weighed his goods and was caught and chastised for it on
several o ccasions. No twithstanding his alleged poverty, he
enrolled his son in a Guards regiment and sent him away
with t wo coaches-and-four, t wo cooks, a butler, a valet o t
gigantic size and four bo y-s ervants as hors d 'oeuvre. Peters­
burg society found the young o fficer to be a man o f
superior education-that is, h e had eight horses, as m any
lackeys, two cooks , . and so on and so fo rth. At first every­
thing was as s mooth as butter fo r him ; our future uncle
became a Lieute nant of the Guards and would have con­
tinued advancing in his pro fession but fo r an un fortunate
incident that occurred in the seventies.
One fine winter's day he decided to go for a drive
along Nevsky Prospekt . On reaching Anichkov B ridge a
large troika drew up even with his sleigh and was ab out to
pass it. Well, you know t he Russian temperament : the

1 24
lieute nant shouted to his coachm an "Whip them up ! " and
a tall handsome man wrapped in a b e ar' s skin in the other
sleigh roared to his coachman in re sponse , " Whip them
up ! " As the lieute nant's horses fo rge d ahead on a turning
the m an in the bear' s skin, purple with fu ry, struck out
with a whip at the lieutenant's driver but purposely caught
the lieutenant with the tip of it.
" Stop racing, you bounder ! "
" Are you m ad? " cried the lieutenant.
" I' ll te ach that man of yours to overtake m e ! "
"I ordere d him to overtake you and I have too much
resp ect for my uniform to allow anyone to insult it ! "
" Pooh ! What a fine gentlem an he thinks himself!
Who are you, s ir? "
" And who are you sir? " retorted the lieutenant, ready
to throw himself at his advers ary like a wild beast.
The handsome gentleman s wept him with a withering
lo ok and showed him a fist the size of an elephan' s fo ot.
" Fisticuff, is it? Oh, no, you pup py, I' ll m ake you
keep your distance, " and he roared to his driver, " Whip
them up ! "
" After him ! " shouted the lieuten ant to his driver,
adding a few words in such common usage that they are
not inclu ded in the dictio nary.
The lieutenant went to the trouble o f finding out the
address of the hands ome gentleman, but he changed his
mind ab out calling on him ; he reso lved to write him a
letter and began it rather bravely but was interrupted b y
being summoned to his General, who for some reason or
other informed him he was under arrest. He was sub se­
qu en tly transferred to the garrison of Orsk fortress.
Orsk fortress stands upon j asper and other rock rich in
semi-p recious s tones, but this in no way alleviates the
b oredom of living there. Armed with a collection o f
Clau de Crebillon 's edifying novels, the lieu tenant set out
for the fortre ss on the b order o f Ufa province. Three years
later he was transferred b ack to the Guards, but according
to the tes timony of his friends, his character had been
damage d b y his s oj ourn in Orsk fo rtress. He resigned and
went b ac k to the estate inherited fro m his povert y-s_tricken
father, whose mean nature had led him to go about grumbl­
ing i n a m o th-eaten sheepskin but had not prevented his

1 25
buying two thousand five hundred s erfs from his neigh­
bours. Soon the newly-returned ex-lieute nant quarrelled
with all his relatives and went abroad. He s pent the next
three years in Englis h universities , after which h e travelled
in most of the countries of Europe, delib erately o mitting
Spain and Aus tria, for which he had a s tro ng distas te . He
made the acquaintance of all the great people o f the day,
spent evenings with Bonnet discussing organic matter and
whole nights with Beaumarchais discussing the latter' s
latest litigation over a glass o f wine ; h e main tained a
friendly corresp ondence with Schlozer, who was at that
time publishing his famous newspaper; he made a spe cial
journey to Ermenonville to visit the declining Rou sseau and
proudly passed Fermey Cas tle wi thout visiting Vol taire.
When he returned to Ru ssia ten years later he tried
living in S t. Pe tersburg. Finding this life not to his tas te, he
moved to Moscow. At tirs t h e found everything very o dd,
then everyone found him very o dd. And indeed he seemed
to be in a state o f bewilderment, he b egan reading bo oks
on medicine only, he negle cted his person, b e came fre tful
and c ontentious, held himself apart fro m everybody and
lost interest in everything.
At the time that Sophia and her son arrived in Mos­
cow, one of his Swiss friends had just sent to him a resi­
dent of Geneva who was in search o f a post. The Swiss was
a man of about forty, thin and grey-haired, with youthful
blue eyes and something fine and severe in his face. He was
a man of superior education, had an ex cellent knowle d ge
of Latin and was quite a bo tanist. In matters of education
h� held lo fty ide als and accepted his re sponsib ility for rea­
lising them with the fe rvour of youth ; he h ad studied all
sorts o f treatises on education, b eginning with Emile and
Pestalozzi and endil).g with B asedow and Nico lai. But there
was one thir:t g he did no t learn fro m hi� re �ding, namely ,
that a most Important purpose o f educatiOn Is to adjust the
y oung mind to its environment ; e ducation must be climato­
logical; every epoch, just as every coun try , to say no thing o f
every clas s , and perhaps even every family , must have i t s o wn
p articular form o f education. The Swiss did not know this he
s �udi ed the hum �n heart by reading Plu tarch , he s tu ied
.
d
his times by readmg Malte-Brun and statisti cs, at the age o f
forty h e could not read Don Carlos without tears, h e be-

1 26
lieved in self-denial, coul d not forgive Napoleon for not
fre eing Corsica and carrie d ab out with him a p icture of
Paoli . True, he h ad had b itter experiences in the practical
worl d; poverty and failure oppressed him, but this only
increas e d his ignorance of the reality of life. He strolled
unhap pily along the beautiful shores of his lake, angry
with his fate, angry with Europe, an d suddenly his imagi­
nation pointed him to the north, to a land he fanci ed to b e
n e w in t h e moral sense a s Australia was n e w in t h e pnysi cal
sense-new and different, just emerging, wide-sweeping. He
bought Levesque's history , read Voltaire' s Pe ter the Great
and with in a week set out on fo o t for St. Petersburg.
Despite h is almost virginal un derstanding of the world, at
the b otto m of his character was an unshakable firmness,
almost a coldness. A c0l d dreamer is incurable, he will be a
child to the end of his days.
Sophia made his acquaintance at the uncle's house. She
had hardly dared hope to fin d a tutor for her son who
came up to her i deal, but the Swiss promised to do almost
this. She o ffered him four thousand rubles a year, which
was a large sum in those days. He agreed to accept the p ost
b u t s ai d he require d only a thousand two hundred. In reply
to Sophia's pro testations h e calmly explained that he c oul d
not take m ore or less than h is n eeds dem an ded, that he had
drawn up for him self a bu dget o f eight hundred rubles with
ano th er four hun dre d set aside for unforeseen expenses
"I have no wish to accustom m yself to luxury , " h e adde d,
" and I consi der i t dishonourable to accumulate cap ital . "
I t was t o such a m adman that Sopnia entrusted the
edu cation o f the future owner of White Fields, with its
vast cultivate d an d uncultivated l ands !
The only p erson in the world who found fault with
this arrange ment was the ol d uncle, but then he found
fault with everything (yet he was the o nly one of all her
husb and's relatives who accepted Sophia). " Oh, Sophia,
Sophia! " he ex clai med. " You are always do ing fo olish
things. The Swiss woul d have b een quite content to b e my
co mpanion. A fine tu tor he will m ake ! He himself is in
nee d o f a nurse-mai d, an d what will he m ak e out o f Vo­
lodya? Another Swiss. It would be simpler to my way of
thinking t o take the boy to Vevey or Lausanne." Believing
that these words m erely disguise d the selfish old m an's

127
desire to keep the Swiss for himself, Sophia avoided a
conflict with him by remaining silent.
Two weeks later she and Volodya and the forty-year­
old youth set out for her estate. It was now springtime and
the Swiss began the education of his pupil by developing in
him a love for b otany. Early in the morning they were out
collecting a herbarium ; lively conversation took the place
of tiresome lessons ; everything that met their eye b ecame a
theme for discussion and Volodya listened to his teacher
with rapt attention. After dinner they usually sat on �he
balcony overlooking the garden while the Swiss recou.1ted
the lives of great men or described famous voyages of ex­
ploration, and sometimes by way o f reward he allowed
Volodya himself to read Plutarch.
Time passed, two elections were held, the day arrived
when Volodya must be sent to the university. His mother
dreaded his going; in these few years she had come closer
to experiencing a mild happiness than at any other time of
her life. So content was she with the peace and h armony
of their lives that she could not bear the thought of any
change. With what pleasure she waited on her beloved b al­
cony for Volodya to return from his long walks ! How
delighted she was when, after wiping the sweat o ff of his
flushed and laughing face, he threw his arms about her!
She looked at him with an adoration that almost b rought
tears to her eyes. And indeed there was. something very
touching about Volodya. There was a nobility of mien, an
openness, frankness and trustfulness o f countenance that
made the gazer glad for himself and sorry for him so
obvious was it that this tall, lithe youth with the brigat
glance had never been injured by life, had never known fear,
had never spoken an untruth, and had not the faintest con­
ception of what awaited him in after years. The Swiss
'
loved him almost as dearly as his mother did. Sometimes
after contemplating him for a while, his teacher would
drop his eyes, dimmed by tears, and think: " My life has
not been in vain ; it is enough for me to know that I have
contributed to the upbringing of such a youth. My con­
science will not trouble me."
How strange, how contradictory things can be in this
world ! If only the boy' s mother and teacher could have
foreseen all the disappointments and temptations they had

1 28
prepared for him by bringing him up as in a hothous e !
The y did everything i n their power t o keep h i m fro m
understanding reality ; they deliberately hid from him what
was going on about him ; instead of sho wing him life's
seamy side , they filled his mind with gleaming ideals ;
instead o f taking him to the marketplace and showing him
the gre edy discord o f the mob intent on money-grabb ing,
the y · took him to the b allet and assured him that this
grace, this wonderful harmony of music and movement ,
represented ordinary life ; they brought him up to be their
version of Kaspar Hauser. That was what the Swiss was
like, but what a vast difference there was between him and
Vo lodya! What indeed had he in common-this poor
scholar willing to tramp fro m one end of the earth to the
other with a bundle over his shoulder and a picture of
Paoli in his p o c ket, with his precious dreams, his h ab it o f
living meagrely, his conte mpt fo r luxury and his desire to
earn his bread by his own l abour-what, I say, h ad he in
common with Volodya, born to quite a different state?
However devoted Sophia was to her secluded life in the
country , however difficult it was for her to bre ak away
fro m the serenity of White Fields, she made the decision o f
going to Mo sco w. They went to t h e uncle' s house directly
on arriving. The old man was very weak; she found him
half-reclining in his winged armchair, h is legs wrap ped in
goat-hair shawls, his grey hair falling in thin strands over
his dressing-gown, h is e yes protected by a green shade.
" And how have you been spending your da·ys, Vla­
dimir Petrovich ? " asked the old man.
" Prep aring myself for the univers ity, sir," replied the
youth.
" Which one? "
" Moscow University. "
"What can it give you ? I was p erso nally acquainted with
M atei, and Heim too ; even so I think Oxford is better, do
not you, S ophia? There can be no doubt about it. What
branch are you interested in?"
"Jurisprudence, sir. "
The old man made a wry face.
" Very well, you will learn le droit nature/, le droit des
gens, le code de ]ustinien-what then ? "
" Wh at then ? Why, then he will e nter the civil service

9-171 1 29
in Petersburg," replied the boy's mother with a smile.
" Ha, hal How very i mp o rtant to know Pan dectes and
all those Closses ! Or perhaps, Vladimir Petrovich, you
wish to b e come a legal counsellor, o r even a b arrister? Do
as you wish, my lad ; but my advice would be that you t ake
up medicine. I will leave you my library-and a very fine
library it is-I have kept it in e xcellent o rder and sub­
scribe d to all the latest literature ; m edicine is the best
branch of science ; i f you take up medicine you will bring
benefit to your fellowmen ; you'll be ashamed to cure
people's ills for money, you will cure them free of charge
and be rewarded by an easy consci ence. "
Knowing how stubbornly the old man clung to his
opinions, neither Sophia nor Volodya contradicted him,
but the Swiss brok e in with :
"To be sure a p hysician's calling is splendid, b ut I do
not know why Vladimir Petrovich should not stud y law
when there is such a demand for highly edu cate d young
men in the civil service. "
" Oh, this gentleman will teach you what to think and
me too, although I was in Geneva when he was still
crawling on all fours , ' ' replied the crotchety old m an.
" Yes, I was, my dear citoyen de Gene ve ? ' Then, in a m ilder
tone : "I once saw a translation o f Jean Jacques with ' By
the commoner Jean Jacques Rousseau' on the title p age.
Fancy that ! " and the old man laughed until seized b y a fit
of coughing.
He had told this story a thousand times an d still be­
lieve d his listeners had never heard it b e fo re .
"Well, Volo dya, " he went o n in a more amiable mood
after recovering his breath, " I surmise that you write
poetry, do you not ? ·�
"I have tried my hand at .i t, sir," admitted Volodya
blushing.
" I beg you to drop it, my lad ; only nincompoops write
poetry, it is futilite, you must do something useful. "
This was the only advi ce Vladimir accep ted: he did not
write poetry. He e ntered Mo scow University instead of
Ox fo rd and took up politics and ethics instead o f
medicine. The unive rsity added t h e finishing touches to his
education. Until entering it he had lived a solitary life ,
there he found himself p art o f a gay and noisy company ;

1 30
Natalia Alexandrovna Herzen, nee Zakharina ( 1 8 1 7 - 1 8 5 2 ),
Herzen's wife. Pencil sketch by an unknown artist, 1 848.
Moscow. The Kre mlin. Her.len and his family returned to Moscow
from his first term of exile in M arch 1 8 40. Lithograph of the 1 8 40s.
 Herzen and his son Alexander.
Portrait in oils by an unknown artist, 1 8 3 9 .
there he discovered his own relative value; there he was
warmly welco m ed by his youthful companions and,
spurred on by his yearning towards the good and the
beautiful, threw himself wholeheartedly into his studies.
The Dean himself showe d a fondness for him, attesting
that the only hindran ces to his b ecoming a m odel student
were an over-length of hair and an under-length of vene­
ration.
At last his university course came to an e nd. With the
issuing of diplomas , the road to life was opened u p to
students. So phia prep ared to go to St. Petersburg, in­
tending that Volodya should go there first an d she would
join him after winding up her Moscow affairs. On the eve
of his dep arture an d b e fore they, too, scattered in v arious
dire ctions, his Mo scow friends gathered at his house. All o f
t h e m were fille d with h o p e , t h e future opened her arms t o
them, b u t , like Cleopatra, reserved t h e right to punish
them ruthlessly for their rapture. The young people made
colossal p lans. None of them could have fo reseen that one
o f their numb er was to lose his entire fortune at cards an d
en d his career as head o f an o ffice ; another would fossilise
in a provincial town an d feel unwell if he failed to take his
daily dose of three glassfuls of vodka before dinner and
sleep three hours after it ; a third would, towards the end
o f his career, complain that young p eople were not like old
people, that they were all e mpty dreamers and did not
begin to come up to his own assistant in manners and
morals. When Beltov's Swiss tutor entered his ro om in
travelling garb and woke him up, the youth' s ears still rang
with the clinking of glasses, the vows of friendship and o f
�
loy ty t o th �ir i deals m ade b y the young p eople on the
preVIous evemng.
With high hopes my dreamer set out fo r Pete rsburg.
Action, action ! -that was what he longed for. In Peters­
burg his hopes would be ful filled, his proj ects would b e
realised, he would c o m e to kn ow life a s it really was.
Petersb urg was the centre fro m which sprang Russia's n ew
life. Moscow, he s aid to himself, had accomplished its en d ;
Moscow was, as it were, a warm heart into which all the
veins o f the state flowed and it pulsed for this state, but
Pete rsb urg ! -Petersburg was Russia's brain, it was there at
the top, encased in a skull o f ice and granite ; it was the

1 35
seasoned mind of the empire.. .. Such were the thoughts
and metaphors that swarmed effortlessly in his dedicated
mind. Meanwhile the stage-coach progressed from one inn
to the next, carrying along with our dreamer a cavalry
colonel with grey moustaches ; a functionary from Arkhan­
gelsk who had provided himself for the journey with bone­
dry fish, some medicinal herb s in case of alimentary distur­
bances, and a footman wearing a mangy sheepskin ; a tow­
headed young o fficer (his hair was paler than his skin ) who
took pride in exerting influence on the stage-coach con­
ductor. Vladimir found these people novel and colourful.
He laughed good-naturedly when the Arkhangelsk func­
tionary offered him a taste of the bone-dry fish, and he
smiled at his clumsiness when he rummaged so long in his
purse for a coin with which to pay for his cabbage soup
that the impatient colonel p aid in his stead; he was de­
lighted that the Arkhangelsk functionary addressed the
colonel as " Your Excellency", and no less delighted that
the colonel could not voice a single thought without intro­
ducing and concluding it with words o f quite a different
order; he was amused by the old footman encased in cuir
russe despite the cold, who served the Ar� ang�lsk fun� ­
. .
tionary, or rather who succeeded m keepmg alive m his
service. In a word , our young man saw everything in the
rosiest of lights.
His arrival in Petersburg and his first appearance in
society was accompanied by good fortune. He brought
with him a letter of recommendation to an influential
spinster; the spinster, on first setting eyes on our charming
young man, decided he was exceedingly learned and had
an excellent knowledge of languages. Her brother was in
charge of a branch o f the civil administration. She intro­
duced Beltov to him. A short conversation was enough to
impress the brother with his simplicity of address, his
many-sided knowledge and his lively, inquisitive mind. He
offered to take him into his o ffice and he personally re­
commended him to the director. Vladimir threw himself
into his work with a will ; he liked the bureaucracy as seen
through the prism of his nineteen years-a fussy, bustling
bureaucracy, all numbered and registered, with an anxious
look and heaps o f papers within arm' s reach ; he saw the
office as a mill wheel setting in motion masses o f people

1 36
scattered acro ss h al f the globe ; he found poetry in it.
Soon Sophia came to Petersburg too. The Swiss tutor
still live d with the m ; he had attempted several times of late
to leave the Beltovs, but this was b e yond his p ower, he h ad
b e co m e so in trinsic a p art o f the fam ily, had given so much
of him self to Vladimir and come to respect Sophia so
deeply that he could not tear himself away from them. He
b ecame glu m , ever o ccupied with an inner struggle- he
was, as we have alre ady s aid, a cold dreamer and therefore
incurable.
One evening soon after Vladimir had received his
appointment, the little family was seated before the
fireplace. Young Vladimir, who h ad developed a conscious­
ness of his o wn worth, of his stre ngth and prepare dness,
was dreaming aloud of the fu ture ; his mind was seething
with ho pes, plans, aspiration s ; he dreamed of great civil
activitie s and of dedicating his whole life to them . . . and
su ddenly he interrupted his dreams of the future by
throwing his arms about his tut or's neck: " How much I
owe to you for making a man o f me, my true, my go od
friend ! " he said. "I owe everything, everything to you and
mother; you have b een more than a father to me! " The
tu tor put a hand over his e yes for a moment b e fo re he
loo ked first at the mother then at the son ; he se emed
ab out to s ay so m ething but he got up instead and went out
of the ro o m without a word.
On entering his small stu dy the tutor locked the door,
drew his dusty travelling case out from under the divan,
wip e d it and b e gan putting his tre asure s into it, lovingly
studying e ach be fore releasing it ; these treasures reve aled
as nothing else could do the extraordinary te nde rness o f
this m an : one o f them w as a care fully wrapped port folio ,
cro o kedly glue d toge ther, which had been se cretly m ade
for him at night by the twelve-year-old Vladimir as a New
Year' s gift. On the front he had p asted a pictu re of George
Washington tom out o f one o f his b o o k s. Another o f the
treasures was a water-colour o f fourteen-year-old Vladimir,
in which he was portrayed in an open-necked blouse , sun­
burnt, his eyes made lively by the intelligence shining in
the m, his expre ssion animated by the hope and trust he
was to retain for another five years and which was to flash
f� rth there after only on rare o ccasions, like the Petersburg

137
sun, like something o f the past out o f keeping with the
present. He also put into his b ag some s ilver mathematics
instruments presented to him by the old uncle , as well as
the old man ' s enormous tortoise-shell snuff-box deco rated
with a p icture of the celebrations in Paris of July 1 4, 1 79 0 ;
the old man had always kept this snu ff-b o x b eside him,
and on his death the tutor had b ought it fro m his valet.
When these treasures and a few more of a si milar kind were
p acke d away , the tutor m ade a selection of some fifteen
books and put the re st asi de. Early the next morning he
stealthily left the house, called a carter, and, assisted b y his
manservant, carried out his case and b o o ks , having instru ct­
ed the man to say he had gone to the country for a few
days, he put on a long coat, took an umbrella and walking­
stick, shook the manservant's hand and walked away
beside the cart ; large tears were dropping upon the b reast
of his coat.
Two days later Sophia, who had not yet got over her
astonishment at the tuto r's dep arture and was exp ecting
him to return at any moment, received the followin g
lette r :
" De ar madame,
" Last evening I was richly re warde d fo r my servi ces. Be
assured that that moment will live forever in my m emory ;
it will accomp any me to the e nd of my days as consolatio n
and justi fication fo r my humble li fe ; at the same time it
announce d the so lemn conclusion of my services, it clearly
declared that the time had come for the teacher to leave
his pupil to his own re sources, that the teacher' s influence
was more apt to hinder than help his develop ment. A
person must e ducate himself all his life lo ng, but the tim e
comes when he mus t no longer be educated. And indeed
what more have I to o ffer your son? He has outstripped
.
me.
" I have long inte nded to leave your home b u t weak­
ness p revented me fro m doing so. My love fo r your son
prevented me. If I did not leave now I should n ever b e able
to fulfil this duty i mposed by a sense o f honour. You
know my p rinciples. I could not re m ain with you fo r the
additional reason that I consider it humiliating to e at
unearne d b read, to accept your money without o ffering
anything in return. And so you see it is expedient that I

138
leave your household. Let us remam friends and never
speak of this again.
" When you receive this letter I shall b e on my way to
Finlan d , from where I intend going to Sweden. I shall
travel as long as my money holds out, then I shall continue
my labou rs. I am still capable of working.
" I have taken no money from you of late ; do not try
to forward it to me but give h alf of it to the m an who
served me and the other half to the rest of the servants.
Do, I b eg you, give them my regards ; I sometimes caus ed
thes e poor people a great deal o f trouble. Give the books I
left b ehind to Vlad i mir as a gift from m e. I will write to
him separat ely.
" Farewell, fare well, most worthy and este emed o f
women ! May your ho me b e b lessed-but what further
blessings can I wish one who has such a son? I can only
wish that b oth you and he live long-very long. I kiss your
hand . "
His letter to Vladimir was as follows :
" My last word s to you , Vladi mir, will be the advice not
o f a teacher but of a friend . You are aware that I have no
close relatives and I have no one as near and dear to me as
you are despite the immeasurable gap between our ages.
All my hopes and aspirations centre in you. I have e arned
th e right to o ffer you friendly counsel on p arting with
you, Vladimir. Continue along the p ath fate has p ointed
out to you ; it is a splendid one; I do not fear the failures
and mis fo rtunes you will encounter, you have the strength
to overcome them ; I do fear your successes and good for­
tun e ; they make the road slipp ery . Bend yourself to
your work, and s ee that the opposite never takes plac e :
that your work does not bend t o your needs. A n d never
confuse ends and means, Vladimir. The only worthy end is
love of your fellowman and love of the go o d and the true.
If love dries up within your heart you will n ever accom­
plish anything, you will only de ceive yours elf; only love
creates what is vital and lasting; p ride is sterile b e cause it
seeks only i ts own gain . . . . "
I cannot reproduce the entire letter, which covered
three sheets of note p ap er.
In such a way did this go od and kindly man p ass out o f
Vlad imir's life. Many and m any a time did mother an d son

139
say to each other : " I wonder where monsieur Joseph is
now? " and the question would conjure up in their m inds a
. .
vision o f the quiet, humble , monk-hke figure o f theu
friend in his long coat disapp earing b ehind the stately
mountains of Norway.

Chapter VII

Azals has p rove d (very tiresomely) that everything in

the world is compensated for. Obviously one must n ot
apply this theory to every trifle i f one is to accept it. Yet
with this as my justification I wish to co mpensate for the
loss of monsieur Joseph by introducing Ossip Yevseyevich.
Ossip Yevseyevich was a thin grey-haired m an of about
sixty with re d cheeks and a conte nted look, whose civil­
service unifo rm was worn to a shine. For thirty ye ars he
had been Supervisor of the Fourth Department o f the
o ffice to which Beltov was appointe d. For the fi fteen years
preceding this he had b e en a copyist for that depart m en t ;
the firs t fifte en years o f his life had b e e n spent in the y ard
of this very o ffice in the exalted statio n o f son o f the
doorman, which gave him aristocratic distinction among
the sons o f mere watchmen. This m an b etter than anyone
else might serve as pro o f that university lectures, travel and
extensive activities are not essential to a m an' s educati o n ;
h e had acquired an excellent knowledge o f h i s business and
of pe ople, and as a diplomat he could vie with Osterman n
and Talle yrand. Naturally shrewd, his serving in this o ffice
from the age o f fi fte en had give n h im p lenty o f tim e and
opp ortunity to develop hi s p ractical abilitie s ; noth ing
interfered with this, neither scholarship nor reading, nor
love o f the well-turned p hrase, nor the abs tract theories
with which book-learning dissipates the i m agination, nor
the lure o f socie ty life , nor poetic fancie s. As he sat b e fore
sheets of paper gleaming whitely, am ong p eople whom he
regarded blackly, he acquired an ever deeper kn owledge of
re al life , a true unders tanding o f the world ab out him and
an astuteness that steered him through clerical wate rs
which, i f unpictures que, are murky and full of p eril. There

1 40
 were changes o f ministers and dire ctors, heads of depart­
ments came and went, but the Supervisor o f the Fourth
Department re maine d where he was, and everybo dy loved
him b ecause they needed him and b ecause he took p ains to
disguise their need of him ; everyone distinguished and
valued him b ecau se he tried to efface himself ; he knew and
remembere d every detail that concerned his o ffice ; p eople
applied to him for information as to an archive, yet he
never p ushed himself forward ; the director offered him the
post o f h�ad o f the entire Bureau-he remained loyal to
th e Fourth Department ; they wanted to reco mmend him
for t he Order of the Cross-he po stponed the Cross for two
years, asking that he be awarded a year' s salary instead ,
and this only because he feared such a distinction might
make the Supervi sor of the Third D epartment j ealous. This
was typical of his b ehaviour in all things : no one from
outside ever accu sed him o f taking b rib es and no one in
the o ffice ever suspected him of r e fusing them. You can
imagine how many p apers p assed through his hands in th�
course of forty-five years, yet not one of them roused his
ire, m ad e him forget himself or even d isturb ed his h appy
frame of mind. Never did he allow his thoughts to wander
from the busine ss on p aper in front of him to the real
p eople and circum stances behin d t he p ap er ; he regarded
business ab stractly, as an accumulation o f an endless
numb er of communications, report s, applications an d
appeals, arrange d i n a definite order and distributed
according to de finite rule s ; the supervising of the work o f
his Department (the " keeping o f it i n motion" as imagi­
native Supervisors are fon d o f putting it ) obviously meant
for him nothing b ut the continuous clearing of pap..:rs, and
he cleare d them in any way he foun d most convenient-b y
sending a request for info rmation to, say, Krasnoyarsk,
fro m which far point he could not hope to get an answer
in less than two years, or by winding up the b usiness b y
writing a fin al resolution, or-and this h e p referred t o all
other m ethods-b y transfe rring the b usiness to another
dep art ment where another Supervisor would carry on the
game according to the same rules. So co m pletely obj ective
was he that he could n ot imagine, for instance, that p eople
might b e r e duced to b egging their b read b e fore th e answer
came fro m Krasn oyarsk : Th emis is ob lige d to be blind.

141
 Some three months after Vladimir had received his
ap pointment his Supervisor, having completed his ex ami­
nation of p apers and supplied food for the p ens of four
copyists, took out his silver snuff-box inlaid with b lack
enamel and o ffered it to his assistant :
" Try it, Vassili Vassilievich. Vorosh atin tobacco. Pre­
sent from a friend."
" Excellent tobacco," gasped the assistant after a m o-
ment spent be tween life and death.
.
" Huh ! Stings, does it? " remarked the Supervisor,
ve ry much pleased with having seared his assistant's nasal
membrane.
" I've been meaning to ask you, Ossip Y evseyevich,"
said the assistant, who , re covering little b y little from the
p araly sis inflicte d by the �Voroshatin tobacco, was wip ing
his eyes, nose, forehead and chin with a b lue handkerchief,
" . . . I've been meaning to ask you what you thought of the
new young man-from Moscow, is he ? "
" Lo ts of p unch in that young m an ; they s ay he w as
appointe d by His Ex cellency himself. "
" Ah, yes ; and a clever young m an too, no gainsaying
that. Yesterday I heard him arguing with Pavel Pavlich ;
Pavel Pavlich d oesn't like to be contradicte d, as you know,
and that young Beltov doesn' t m ince words. Pavel Pavlich
got angry : 'I tell you this is how it ought to be done , ' and
Beltov : 'I beg your p ardon but that is how it ought to be
done. ' I must own I enj oyed it. Later, when Beltov w as
gone, Pavel Pavlich remarked to a frien d : ' Try and run an
office properly when they put upstarts like that in it !
University ! I' m a university m yself ! I'll teach him to res­
pect his superiors ! I don't give a fig who ap pointe d
him ! ' "
" Well, well," s aid the Supervisor, on whom the story
appeared to make a h appy impression. " So he doesn't give
a fig who appointed him, doesn't he ? Bravo, Pavlich ! And
did he say that to Beltov's face ? "
"No; towards the end he just muttered something in
French. I must confess that when I looked at that young
fellow the thought occurred to me that y ou and me, Ossip
Yevseyevidi, we 'll still b e sitting oppo site each other in
this Fourt� Department when he 's sitting up there,"
pointing towards the Dire ctor's o ffice.

1 42
 " Bah, what are you saying, Vassili Vassilievich? " re­
torted the Supervisor. " There's not a cleverer man than
you employed by any of the three dep artments, and still
you are a goose. In my time I've seen all sorts of material
out of which real men of affairs and heads of offices are
made, and let me tell you that not a hair of that young­
ster's head corresponds to the requirements. I own he has
brains and spirit, but how far will his brains and spirit take
him ? Here, I'll wager a bottle of vodka he'll not be pro­
moted even to Department Supervisor."
" I'll not take your wager. Yesterday I saw a paper he
wrote: fine composition, very fine indeed; outside
of the Son of the Motherland * I never . saw such
sty le."
"I read it too-my eyes may be old but they still do me
good service-and I tell you he doesn' t know the proper
forms ; if it was because o f inexperience and foolishness he
could learn, but it's his mind that spoils him ; he turns
�usiness into romance and lets the main thing slip through
his fingers ; it's all the same to him who has forwarded an
application, how it is to be treated, to whom referred. He
is what we call a surface-skimmer; yet if you go to him you
can be sure he will try to teach us oldsters what to do. It's
not hard to recognise a sensible fellow ; I myself was taken
in when I first saw him, thought, ' Looks clever; perhaps he
will make out; if he is not used to the service he will get
use·d to it. ' But now, after three months, he still goes about
making a fuss over every trifle and losing his temper; one
might think his own father was being murdered and him to
the rescue 1 Where will that get you , pray? I've seen
others like him, he's not the first nor the last, all of them
shouting at the top of their lungs, ' I'll put a stop to these
vicious practices ! ' And they don't so much as know what
the practices are nor why they are vicious. All they do is
shout and scream, and in the end they are left simple
clerks without any standing, yet in their foolishness they
laugh at us : Just look at them, office navvies l Well, let me
tell you it is the navvies who do the work l And when the
time comes when their own affairs require that they file an
application in the Civil Bureau they don't know how to go
* A reactionary journal published in St. Petersburg. - (Tr. J

143
about it, they come running to the navvies to do it for
them ! Pooh! Nincomp oops! " conclude d the eloquent
Supervisor.
As a matter of fact there was good reason for the
Supervisor's opinion, and events hastened to confirm the
justice of it. Beltov's enthusiasm for office activities soon
cooled, he grew irritable and careless. The Office Super­
visor summoned him and talked to him with a father's
gentleness. It did no good. The Minister himself summoned
him and talked to him with a father's gentleness-so
kindly, so touchingly, that his administrator, who was
standing by, shed a tear, although he was not a soft­
hearted man, as any of his subordinates could testify. This,
too, did no good. Beltov went so far as to accept as an
insult these demonstrations of concern for him, these
paternal efforts to put him on the right p ath. In a word,
three months after the conversation took place between
the Fourth Department Supervisor and his assistant, Ossip
Yevseyevich found fault with the product of one of his
copyists and said to him sharply :
"When are you going to learn? How many p apers have
you copied1 and every time I have to draw up a model for
you? And all because your mind is not on your work but
out strolling with the mademoiselles on Admiralty Boule­
vard ! I've caught you at it time and again. Well, write this
down : 'This passport, with required signatures and o fficial
rubber stamp, is issued to retired gubernia Secretary Vla­
dimir Beltov as evidence of his right to free residence any­
where within the Russian Empire .... ' Finished? Let me see
it," and he murmured as he read : " ... from his estate . . .
serfs ... uyezd ... university .. . 1 8 September ... Russian
Orthodox.... Very well," and Ossip Y evseyevich added a
note in the finest o f handwriting on the very edge o f the
paper.
" Here, take it and tum it in, and when it is signed, take
it to the registry office ; let them stamp it here on the side,
next to the words : ' This passport'. He is coming for it
tomorrow."
" A good thing you did not take me up on that bottle
of vodka, Vassili Vassilievich. I would have won the wager,
you see. Didn't take him long, did it? "
" Dropped by the wayside when he was within fourteen
144
years and six months o f being awarded his buckle," ob­
served the assistant wittily.
The Supervisor and all the copyists broke out into loud
laughter.
On the note o f this Homeric laughter ended the civil
service career o f our friend Vladimir Petrovich Beltov. This
was exactly ten years before that momentous day when, as
Vera Vassilievna was having the pudding served, the sound
of sleigh-bells came from the road and Maxim Ivanovich
ran to the window.
What had Beltov been doing those ten years?
Everything, or almost everything.
What had he accomplished?
Nothing, or almost nothing.
Who is not familiar with the old belief that promising
children rarely justify the hopes placed in them? Why
should this be so? Can it be that human life-forces are so
distributed that if expended in childhood there is nothing
left for maturity? A moot question. I am unable and have
no wish to supply the answer to it, but I am inclined to
believe it should be sought in environment, atmosphere,
influences and relationships, rather than in the individual's
peculiar mental composition. Be this as it may, Beltov
offers a case in point. With the ardour of youth and the
irresponsibility of a dreamer, he fulminated against circum­
stances; and with the utmost abhorrence arrived at practi­
cally the same conclusion expressed so eloquently by Ossip
Yevseyevich : " It is the navvies who do the work," and
they do it because the spoiled darlings and overprivileged
puppies do not know how to do anything, the only contri­
bution · they make to humanity is their dreams and their
aspirations, often lofty but almost always fruitless.
One morning-it can hardly be called a fine morning
for it was a typical Petersburg one, a morning combining
all the discomforts of the four seasons : wet snow beat
against the window-pane, and though the day had not yet
grown light at eleven o'clock in the morning it gave the
impression of already drawing to a close-on this morning
Sophia was sitting at the very fire-place at which the last
conversation with Vladimir's tutor had taken place ; Vla­
dimir was lying on a couch beside her with a book which
he read desultorily and in the end decisively put on the
1 0- 1 7 1 1 45
table and, afte r sitting lost in thought for some ti me, s aid :
" Do you know what I have b een thinking, Mo ther?
That Uncle was right in advising me to t ake up medicine.
What is your opinion? Ought not I to take up medicine ? "
"J ust as you like, dear, " So phia replied with her usual
modesty. " The only obj ection I raise is that you would
have to be with the sick, and so many ailments are con­
tagious ! "
" De ar Mother, " s aid Beltov, taking her h an d and
smiling, "how selfish your love makes you! Of course it
would be safer to live sitting b y the fire twirling my
thumbs, but it requires a calling t o live in idle ness no less
than to engage in the activities of a p ro fession. Not every­
one is capable of doing nothing. "
" Try it i f you wish," replied his mother.
On the following morning Beltov ente red the anato my
theatre o f the university and there after pursued the study
of anatomy with the s ame zeal with which he h ad under­
taken his· civil-service duties. He did not, however, bring to
his studies the same dedication to pure learning that he
had displayed at Moscow University ; however he trie d to
deceive himself, medicine for him was an es cape , an escap e
fro m failure , fro m boredom, fro m i dleness ; a great gulf
separated the once gay student from the retire d civil
functionary and dilletante in medicine. Gifted as he was
with a fine min d , his new s tudies soon brought him face to
face with problems on whose solution depends all else, yet
to which science responds with studious silence. He b o ldly
confronte d them and hoped to t ake them by sud den
assault, b y the reckless d aring of his thinking, unaware that
their solution can only be the fruit of long, pasiste nt,
tireless labour. He was incap ab le of su ch labour, and so his
zest for medicine, and especially for its practiti oners,
gradually cooled. In medical men he recognised his o ffice
colleagues. He would have had them dedicate their lives to
the solution of the proble ms that agitated him ; he would
have had them approach the beds o f their p atients as
though celebrating a high and holy ritu al. The y were too
busy ; what they wanted was a large practice an d the
opportunity to spend their evenings at the card table.
" No," thought Vladimir, " I do not want to be a
do ctor. Have I no conscience, that I should unde rtake to

1 46
cure the sick when there is a complete contradiction o f
views on all physiological questions ? Enough o f practical
occup ations ! A fine functionary am I, and a fine scien­
tis t ! I am . . . I am ... I scarcely d are admit it, but-I am an
artist. " It was when drawing s kulls that Beltov decided he
was an artist. No so oner s aid than done. He drap ed the
lower s ashes of his study windows with heavy stuffs, he
placed a smallish Venus b eside two s kulls, he hung his
walls with plaster casts : masks ex pressing horror, shame,
j ealousy, valour, as learned sculptors assume that these
feelings are exp ressed, which is to say, not at all as they are
exp ressed in reality. Vladimir stopped cutting his hair and
went ab o u t all morning in a s m ock, a proletari an garm ent
mad e for him b y an exp ensive tailor on Nevsky Pro spekt.
He went to the Hermitage Galleri es once a week and
worked industriously at his easel. His mother moved ab out
on tip toe, fearing to disturb her budding Titi an . He b egan
speaking o f going to Italy an d of painting a canvas on a
historical theme in strong m od e m style : the theme was to
b e the meeting o f Biron returning from Sib erian exile, with
Minich* on his way to S ib erian exile-a winter landscape,
snow, covere d sleds, the Volga. . . .
It goes without saying that Beltov d i d not fin d full
satisfacti on in p ainting ; inwardly he did not experience the
joy the occupation should h ave brought him ; outwardly he
did not have the artistic s urroundings with their lively ex­
change o f vi ews and cri ti cism that sup port an artist i n his
work. There was no real need for his activities ; they were
arb itrary, the result o f a mere whi m , an d he was hindered
by his fo rmer dreams of serving m ankind thro ugh p ublic
activities. Nothing appeals m ore to an ard ent disp osition
than the thought ot taking p art in current affairs, of
co ntributing to history-i n-the-making ; anyone who has
p ermitted such dreams to lodge in his breast has ruined
himself for any o ther form of activity ; such a person will
fin d himself but a guest in any other field ; his true calling
will not be there ; he will b e sure to introduce current

* Biron, l!rnst johann ( 1 690- 1 7 72 )-one of Empress Anna

Ioannovna's favourites; he was exiled to Siberia by M inich .(1 6 8 3-
1 7 6 7 ) who headed a court revolt. In 1 7 4 1 , when Elizaveta Petrovna
carne to the throne, he was exiled to Siberia in his tum. -(Tr. )

''
) I) 147
problems into art, painting his thoughts if he is an artist,
singing them if he is a musician. If he enters another field
he will try to deceive himself, just as a person who leaves
his native land tries to convince himself that it makes no
difference where he lives, that any land where his services
are needed is his native land. He tries to convince himself
of this, but a persistent inner voice calls him back to
another place, reminds him of other songs and other
scenes. Darkly but definitely this idea haunted Beltov ; he
looked with envy at a German who lived for the sake of
the piano, finding happiness in Beethoven , studying con­
temporary life ex fontibus, that is, from the old writers.
Then there were the long Petersburg evenings when it
was impossible to paint. Vladimir spent many of these
evenings in the company of a widow who was passionately
fond of painting. She was young and beautiful and had al.l
the attractions that luxury and an excellent education
could supply. In her home Vladimir shyly murmured his
first words o f love and boldly signed his first prom issory
note for an enormous sum lost at cards on a certain joyous
evening when, rapturously absent-minded, he gave no
thought to the game. And who could have expected him to
do so? She was sitting opposite him, her eyes clearly
speaking to him of her love.
I shall not recount the whole story of my hero ; the
events are ordinary but they called forth no ordinary
response in his heart. I will only say briefly that after his
first experience of love, which wasted much of his life­
force, and after several pro missory notes, which wasted
much of his fortune, he set out for foreign parts in search
of distraction, new i mpressions, occupations, and so forth ;
his mother, weak and old befo re her time, set out for
White Fields to fill in the gaps made by the promissory
notes, to replace · by years of effort what her son lost in
minutes of recreation , to accumulate money so that Vla­
dimir should �ant for nothing while he travelled abroad.
These efforts did not come easy to Sophia. Great as was
her love for her son, she lacked the astuteness of the Za­
sekino lady. She was always ready to make allowances,
always permitted herself to be deceived, not because of
ignorance or lack of perception , but because of a natural
delicacy forbidding her to show that she knew the truth.

1 48
The peasant serfs o f White Fields adored their mistress and
willingly p ai d her their tithe. Beltov o ften wrote to his
mother, and t he w ay in which she received his letters
showed th at there is ano ther sort o f love , not so proud and
not so po ssessive as to make sole claim to the name, but a
love that neither time nor illness can weaken, a love that in
old age o pens letters with trembling fingers an d sheds tears
from failing eyes o n the b eloved han dwriting. Her son's
letters were So phia' s sole source of life ; they brought her
strength and consolation and she read each of them
hundreds o f times over. His letters were cheerless even
tho ugh they were full o f love and hid much that their
writer felt would try his mother's heart too sorely . It was
clear that the yo ung man was gnawed by ennui", was weary
o f playing the role o f onlooker, which is the only one a
traveller is assigned. He had seen Europe and that was
eno ugh for him. Wherever he went people were busy , as
people are always busy at ho m e ; he was as a guest who is
o ffered a chair, who is p aid compliments , but who is not
told the family 's secrets and for who m the time comes at
last to go home. But the recollection o f his Petersb urg
experie nces inevitably b ro ught o n a fit o f melan choly, and
so for a reason he could not have state d he went from Paris
to London. A few m on ths before Beltov returned home,
his mot her receive d a letter fro m Montpellier in which he
said he was leaving for Switzerland, that he had caught
cold in the Pyrenees an d for that reason would spend
an o ther five days in Montpellier; he pro mised to write but
said not a word ab out coming b ack to Russia. " Caught
cold. " Already his mother was alarmed and waite d
anx iously for a letter from the ro ad . Two days passed-no
letter; a month-no letter. Ah, poor woman ! She was
deprived o f her only consolation in her son' s ab sence-the
possib ility of writing to him with the assurance he would
receive the letter. Without this assurance but under the
necessity of fin ding some outlet for her an xiety, she sent
two letters to Paris confi"ees aus soins de l'ambassade russe.
Every night b e fore going to bed she told Dunya to
despatch the coachman on horseback early in the morning
to ask for letters in the market town, altho ugh she was
fully aware that the post cam e only once a week. The
p ostmaster was a go o dn atured man and co mpletely

1 49
devote d to Sophia; he told the c o achm an every ti m e to
rep ort to his mistress that there were no le tters and that as
soon as one arrived he would bring it himself or s end it
with a courier. With what gri e f did the m other receive this
reply after hours o f anxious waiting ! She entertained the
thought of going abroad herself and consi dered sending for
her neighbour, a retired artillery captain, whose advice she
always sought in important matters, such as the com posing
of a courteous l etter asking why there was no provisions
shop in their neighb ourhood. This time she wished to ask
him whether she should make application for a passp ort to
the Records Office or the Uy ezd Court House. Her d ay s o f
waiting were made the more dreary b y the autumn season,
when the lime trees turned y ellow, dry leaves crunched
underfoot, and rain fell l ackadaisically , as if unwilling! y ,
yet uninterruptedly, day a fter day.
One day the m aid who waited on Sophia asked for
permission to attend vesper services.
" You m ay go ," said S ophia. " But why ? Is tom orrow a
church holiday ? "
" Can you have forgotten that tomorrow is the 1 7 th o f
Septe mber, the day o f your angel, the blessed St. Sophia,
and her daughters, Faith, Hope and Charity ? "
" Go , Dunya, and o ffer up a pray er for Vladi mir ," said
Sophia, her eyes filling with tears .
A person re m ains a child for a hundred years , and i f he
lived t o be five hundred, one side o f his nature would still
be child-like. It would b e a p ity indeed if he e ver lost this
side , for it is charged with poetic feeling. What is a nam e ­
day ? Why should one ' s j o ys and sorrows b e felt m ore
acutely on that day than on the eve of it or on any of the
days s uccee ding it? I do not know why, but such i s the
fact. Not only one ' s nam e-day but every anniversary caus es
p angs o f heart. " Today , it s e em s, is the t hird o f M arch,"
somebody re marks as a reminder that the term given for
auctioning the estate is drawing to a close. " Ah, yes ; the
third of March," replies another, and his thought is that
this day marks an eighth annivers ary ; he re call s their first
meeting after a long separation, * he re calls the m ost

* In Herzen's biography the third of March, 1 83 8 , was the day

on which, secretly coming to Moscow from his exile in Vladimir, he

met his betrothed, N atali a Zakharina.- ( Tr. )

150
Alexander Herzen. Autolithograph of the 1 84 0s made by
Gorbunov.
I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I
,. I J l' ) ' I' ( 1'
I' f I' r I J' 1· t'

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.
tl), I I ·f. .. Hllllltl.lllllllll
... . : ltl\... '
J
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Palace Square , St. Pe tersburg. Lithograph of the middle o f

the 19th c entury.

cs
.= �.i n, · � itJ
--..:.
..'.h �,,

llf
'L
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.j I; Ji ,,
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St. Petersburg. Police Bridge . Lithograph made from a drawing by Sa­

dovnikov in the 1830s. Herzen and his family lived in St. Petersburg
from May 1840 to J une 1841, when he was again e xiled, this time to
Novgorod.
RTO BHHOBAT� �
POM A H "b 81> ..1 B l'X'h 'I A C T II Xl..

HCI\ A H ,Ll. EPA .

,. AI C l y ••' tf'A I I .,.Ohjlloll'"io'.'l. I I OI Q I U • I 'I.

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C A HJ\TfiETEPEY 1' 1 '1..

B b T H II 0 I" P A o1> I ll J A Y A P..l A n PA U A .

I 8 4 7.

Cover to the first edition o f Herzen's novel

Who Is to Blam e ? , 1 847.
 minute de tails o f. this meeting, and he repeats with a
fe eling o f solemnity : " Ex actly eight ye ars ! " He fears to
sully the day, cherishing it as a holiday, and it never o ccurs
to him that the thirteenth o f March will be exactly e ight
years and ten days after the event, and that every day is, in
its way, a holiday. So was it w ith Sophia. The pain of he r
separation and o f the ab sence o f letters became more
acute , was, in fact, made almost unb earable by the reali­
sation that Vladimir would not be there to congratulate
her an d that he might very well forget all about her name­
day, wherever he was. She b ecame lost in remin iscences :
she recalled that o n her name-day fifteen years b e fore she
had found the breakfast-room filled with flowers ; Vladimir
had not allowed her to enter the roo m , had tried to
de ceive her with all sorts o f excuse s ; she had guessed the
reason, of course, but had not let him know ; how eagerly
m' s ieur J oseph had helped Vladimir weave the garlan ds o f
f lowers ! Then i n imagination she saw Vladimir in
Montpellier, ill and at the mercy o f a greedy inn-keeper.
Fearing to give her fancy rein in thts direction, she com­
forted herself by thinking m' sieur Joseph might have
visited him and stayed with him ; he was so kind an d gentle
and devote d to Vladimir, he would take good care of him,
would s crupulously follow the doctor's orders and watch
over him when he was asleep. But why s hould Joseph be in
Montpellier ? Vladimir might have sent for him . But . . . .
Again she fell into despondency, and all n ight lo ng her
mind was haunted b y m orb id fancie s interspersed by
happy memories.
The next day she was o ccup ied by various duties that
distracted her to whatever e xtent that was possible. From
early morning the entrance hall was filled with the peasant
" aristocracy" of White Fields ; the elde r stood at their head
in a navy-blue kaftan, holding in his hands an enormous
platter b e aring a cake of extraordinary dimens ions, which
he had sent a lad into town to purchase ; the cake gave off
a smell o f flax-seed oil that would discourage anyone from
violating its whole nes s ; oranges an d eggs were decoratively
arranged round the e dge o f the platter holding the cake.
Among these handsome and imposing b earded peasants,
one was distinguished by his clothes and general ap-

155
pearance: his face was not only shaven but slashed as well,
owing to a tremor that made shaving and the takin g o f
snuff well nigh impossible (nobody could say whether this
tremor was the result of writing too many letters or of
fortifying himself with a mug o f sivukha every morning in
the village pub and at public expense before setting out to
greet the bright new day) ; he was wearing a long blue coat
over wide trousers stuffed into the tops of his boots ; in a
word, he reminded one o f the Australian ornithorynchus ,
which is a loathsome combination of bird, beast and fish.
From outside came the plaintive mooing o f a six-weeks-old
milk-fed calf brought by the peasants as another hecatomb
to mark their mistress's "nemday". Sophia did not know
how to assume an imposing mien before her peasants, a
deficiency she was well aware of and which only increased
her confusion on solemn occasions. The celebration in the
hall was followed by attending a prayer service, at which
she was joined by the art;illery captain, who appeared not
in the guise of a legal advisor this time but in full military
panoply. As they were returning home from the church
Sophia was frightened by a shot : her neighbour had fitted
a small falconet into his carriage and ordered it to be fired
in honour of the occasion. Sophia's setter, being a foolish
dog, could not imagine shooting without a mark , so the
shot sent him bounding off in search of a hare or a grouse.
When they reached home Sophia ordered food to be
served. No sooner was tne table laid than the sound o f
bells came ringing through the air, a handsome postchaise
flew across the bridge, disappeared behind a hill, was gone
for a minute or two, only to emerge close at hand ; the
coachman directed it to the manor h ouse, it came
dashing up and stopped with a flourish at the very steps.
The old postmaster climbed out (for it was he whom
it brought) and could not resist rewarding the driver
with :
" Ah , Bogdashka, llogdashka, what a smart dog you
are ! What a smart dog! "
Pleased by the postmaster's compliment, Bogdashka
shut his right eye, pushed up his cap, and said :
" A poor fellow I'd be if I didn't do my best for your
honour ! "
With mysterious solemnity, with gratification oozing
156
o ut o f all his feature s , the postmaster entered the drawing­
roo m and b egan the cere mony of h and-kissing.
" My dear Sophia Alexeyevna, allow me to congratulate
you on this fe stive o ccasion, the day ot your angel, and to
wis h you the best of health. · Ho w do you do, Spiridon
Vassilievich . " ( This to the artillery cap tain. )
" How do you do, Vassili Loginovich," replied the
captain.
Vassili Login ovich went on with his speech :
" I h ave allowed myself this opportunity to b ring a
small gift to mark the occasion; do not ex pect much, I can
offer only what it is within my means to o ffer, a gift
estimat�d at a ruble and fi fteen kopeks on the exchange ; at
eighty kopeks by weight; here, take it, madame-two
letters fro m Vladimir Petrovich: one, judging by the
stamp, fro m Montrachet, the o ther from Geneva. Forgive
this arch villain, madame : the first arrived some two weeks
ago , the secon d five days ago , but I kept them for this.
joyful o ccasion ; I had only one thought in mind-what a
delight ful surprise I would have for Sophia Alexeyevna!
What a delightful surprise ! "
Sophia dealt with the postmaster' s speech as the
famous actor Aufresne dealt with Theramene 's tale in
Phedre which is to s ay she did not listen to it from the
mo ment he took out the letters ; she snatched them from
him convulsively, was ab out to read them then an d there
but, thinking better of it, go t up and le ft the room.
The post master was delighted b y having nearly killed
Sophia first with disappointmen t, then with j o y. He
rubbed his hands together in such go o d- natured enj o yment
of his surprise that no one could h ave found it in his heart
to rebuke him for his trick or to resist inviting him to the
tab le. The artillery captain performed this last service :
" You nearly knocked the poor woman out with those
letters o f yours, Vassili Loginovich ; my stars, didn't you
just ! Well, while Sophia Alexeyevna is perusing them it
will do not harm, I believe, i f we partake of her generosity.
I am an early riser, you kno w. "
They p arto ok.
One letter had been posted on the ro ad , the other from
Geneva. The second ended with the words : "I was so over­
whelm ed by that meeting and that conversation, dear

15 7
Mother, that I decide d there and then to come home and
take p art in the elections. Tomorro w I am leaving here , I
will spend a month on the banks of the Rhine, fro m there
set out directly for Taurogen without a halt . . . I am
thoroughly sick of Germ any. In Petersburg and Moscow I
will stop only long enough to see a fe w friends an d then­
home to you, my dearest Mo ther, and to our Whi te
Fields . "
" Du nya, Dunya, fetch the calendar ! Dear m e , where
are you looking for it, you foolish girl ! Here it i s . "
Sophia ran f o r it hers elf and began figuring, calcu­
lating, changing old-style dates into new-s tyle , new-style
into old-style, the while her mind was planning a new
arrange ment of her son' s roo m . She thought of everythmg
but her guests ; fortu nately they thought o f themselves and
by this time were p artaking once again.

" Strange , very st range indeed," said the Chairman.

'' One would suppose li fe in the capital o ffered such a
variety o f entertainment that it would b e difficult for a
young man, especially a young man o f fortune, to become
bored."
"Well, there you are , " s miled Beltov as he got up to
take his leave.
" We shall be very glad to have you remain among us.
You will hardly find the brilliance and cultivation you are
accusto med to , but you will m eet simple and generous
people who will hospitably welcome you into their p eace­
ful family circles. "
" That you will," p ut in t he unceremonious Counsellor
wi th St . Anna in his b ut t o n h o l e . " Whatever our town may
lack, it is not hospital i t y . It tiYals �JoscO\v in that ! "
" I do not d o u b t i t ," m ur mured B cltov as he bowed
himself out.
PART TWO
Chap ter I

We have seen what a sensational and lasting impression

the arrival of Beltov made on the inhabitants of X. Let us
now see what an impression the town of X made on
Beltov. He stopped at the Keresberg Inn, a name bestowed
upon it not to distinguish it from other hotels in the same
town, of which there were none, but in honour of a non­
existent town. This inn was the hope and despair of all
petty civil-service o fficials, the place where they found
consolation in sorrow and recreation in joy. To the right as
one entered was a stand-up desk with a hinged lid , behind
which the unperturbable owner was always to be found. In
front of the desk stood his clerk, who had a long beard,
parted his hair rakishly above his left eye, and always wore
a white shirt. In the first days of every month this desk
was the repository of more than half the salaries received
by all the office supervisors and their assistants and their
assistants' assistants (Secretaries rarely visited the inn, at
least at their own expense ; Secretaries unite a love of
getting money with a love of keeping it ; they are conser­
vative). The owner clicked the beads of the ab acus with
l l-171 161
grave dignity ; the accursed desk opened its maw to
swallow up green-b acks and b lue-b acks and spit out every
variety of s mall coin, then clicked its key and-the money
was safe. Only on two occasions did the desk feign to be
dead : when Potapich, a Police Captain, appeared in front
o f it ; but Potapich, thank the Lord , came on b oth occa­
sions to pay his debt.
So metimes the town Counsellors would come for a
game of billiards and, so to s peak, a glass of punch ; as a
matter of fact, the b ottle corks went popping one after
another as they indulged in a true b achelor sp ree behind
their wives' b acks ( an u nmarried Counsellor is as i ncon­
ceivable as a married monk), and for two weeks thereafter
they fwould b oast o f their excesses. When confronted b y
such functionaries t h e more petty o fficials hid their pipes
behind their b acks (de monstrably, for their purpose was
not to hide their pipes but to dispaly p roper d e ference to
their superiors ) , bowed low and , with a great show of
confusion, retired to another roo m even though their
billiard game was unfinishe d , a game at which cornet
Dragalov amazed everybody b y his ex traordinary hits.
The owner o f the inn, a peasant fro m a nearb y village
who h ad accumulated considerable means, knew Beltov's
station and the size o f his estate an d there fore resolved to
assign him one of the b est rooms, a room reserved for the
high-placed generals and landowners , and for this reason he
showed him other roo ms so filthy and neglected that when
he took him to the one he intended letting him h ave and
said, "If this roo m were private and did not lead into the
billiard roo m I would let you have it", Beltov vehemently
insiste d on be ing given it. The owner, touched by his
elo que nce, granted his request at a su m equal to the
privilege and e mphasised the civility he showed B eltov b y
the rudeness h e showed others. T o m ake the ro om private
he locked the connecting door an d cut o ff the approach to
the billiard ro o m through the hall so that those who
wished to play would have to go through the kitchen. Most
o f the players accepted this i nconvenience i n silence , as
they accepted all the other t rials fate chose to m ete out to
the m ; there were those, however, who cried out against the
o wner' s injustice. One of the m, who some ten years earlier
had been in the military , threatened to b reak h is b illiard

162
Vissarion Belins ky. Portrait in oils by Asaffiev, 1 8 8 1 .
 _\ , ,
.I
--,
\ :;
'
\ ..
- ._
J 14 � �

Ti m o fe i G ra n o v s k y ( 1 8 1 3- 1 85 5 ) ,
eminent professor o f Mos cow Univer­
sity and Herzen's friend. Lithograph.

M i k h a i l S c h e p k i n ( 1 7 8 8 - 1 8 6 3 ).
Greatest Russian actor of his day. He
played at the Maly Theatre , which his
contemporaries called "The House of
S chep kin". He was Herzen's close
friend and suggested to him the theme
for his story " The Thieving Magpie".
cue over the owner's back and was so insulted that to a
series o f unprintable interj ections he added such protesta­
ti ons as : " I am a nobleman myself; if he had given it to a
gene ral, now-b ut to t hat young up start, and only b ecause
he is just come from Paris ! In what way am I inferior to
him, pray ? I am a nob leman too , and an e lder son, and
decorated with a Medal of 1 8 1 2 ! " " Oh, com e ; eno ugh o f
this, you hot-h ead ! " said cornet Dragalov, who had his
own designs on B eltov. The owner accepted these p rotests
in silence or passed them o ff as a j oke, and with the flabby
firm ness and compliant inflexibility of a Russian
merchant, he had his own way. The room which B eltov
received at the expense o f injuring the d elicate point
d'honneur o f other clients, could have suited him only
after the cunning owner had shown him the horror of the
other rooms. It was dirty, uncom fo rtable and fro m time to
ti me became filled with the fumes of burning oil coming
fro m the kitchen that, comb ined with the permanent
o dour o f stale tobacco, p ro duced a smell that would have
turne d the sto mach o f an Eskimo brought up on rotten
fish.
The first b ustle of moving in was over. Bags, port­
manteau , valise, haversack-all were delivered to the room ,
a n d they were followed by Grigo ri Yermolay evich,
Beltov's valet, carrying left- over provisions from their
j ourney : a tobacco pouch, a half-emp ty bo ttle o f
Bordeaux and the remains o f a stu ffed turkey. When these
were distributed over table and chairs , the valet went to
the tap -ro om fo r a glass of vodka, assuring the tap-boy that
he h ad fo rmed the habit in Paris o f co ncluding every
undertaking by draining a big petit verre U ust as in Russia
every undertaking is introduced in a similar way) . A group
of o fficials s warmed round him to receive info rmation
ab out the newco mer from the very source, so to speak, but
justice must be p aid the valet by saying he did not readily
res pond and assumed a haughty air; he had lived abro ad
for some years and was proud o f it.
Meanwhile Beltov was left alone. He sat on th e co uch a
li ttle, then went to the window, from which he could see
h al f the town. The lovely view that greeted his eye was a
typ ical p rovincial view. His attention was fi rst caught by
an ill-pain te d fire-tower with a soldier p acing the. plat fo rm

1 65
at the top ; an ancient cathedral could be glimps ed behind
the long yellow Town House (public build ings arc always
painted yellow), erected in the usual style ; there were two
or three parish churches, each of which rep resented two or
three architectural styles : ancient Byzantine walls were
adorned wi th Greek p ortals or Gothic windows or b oth ;
there was the Governor's mansion in front of which a
gendarme sto o d on guard an d a few peasant p etitio ners
were waiting for an audience ; there w ere the m id dle-class
houses exactly like those foun d in any other Russian town ,
with consumptive-looking pillars built against the walls an d
with a de corative attic uninhabitable in the win ter because
of the Italian window ex tending along its entire le ngth ,
with smoke-blackened wings in which t h e house-serfs live d,
and with stables for the horses ; these houses were usually
bought by gallant gentlemen in their wive' s names ; in a
slanting line ex tended a row o f shops under a single ro of,
white outside, dark inside, all o f them damp and cold and
offering for s ale dimity , c orduroy, taffeta-everything, in
fact, except what was needed. Somew hat touched by the
scene, Beltov s at d own at the window and lighted a c igar.
It was thawing outside, and a thaw always suggests sp ring ;
water was dripping off the roofs and rivulets o f melted
snow were flowing in the gu tters. One expected that today
or tom orrow nature would awaken undern eath the snow
and ice ; only a newco mer, however, over-anxious to dis­
cover spring in this town at the b eginning of February ,
could entertain such ex pectations ; the streets t hemselves
kne w there would still be fro sts and blizzards and that no
leaves would dare to unfurl before the fifteenth to the
twenty-seventh of May, and therefore the streets were not
joyful ; drowsy inactivity reigned there ; two or three dirty
peasant women were sitting outside the shops p e d dling
pears and apples ; since the weather did not thre aten to
fre eze their fingers, they were kn itting stockings, c ounting
the stitches, occasionally exchanging a few words, picking
t h e i r t e eth with their knitting-needles , sig hing an d
yawning, making the sign of the cross over their gaping
mouths every time they yawned. Not far from them an old
merchant in a s able cap and with a long white beard was
sleeping soundly on a folding chair. From ti me to t im e
shop assistants would run from o n e shop t o another and

166
some of them began closing u p ; nobody seemed to be
buying anything, indeed there was nobody in the s treets
but a po lice sergeant, who , b un dled up in a great coat with
a fur collar, s trode briskly along in a business-like way, an
anxious look o n his face and a scroll o f p aper in his han d ;
the s h o p assistants tipped their caps t o him respectfully
but the sergeant was too ab sorb e d in his proble m t o notice
them. Presently an o dd-looking carriage came rolling along;
it looked like a pu mpkin, a quarter o f which had b een
slice d o ff the botto m ; this pumpkin was drawn by four
mangy horse s ; the grey-haired wrinkle-faced c oachman and
the po stilion were dre ssed in ho me-spun wool, the l ackey
bouncing on his perch in the b ack wore livery ornamente d
with mustard-coloured braid. Inside the pumpkin sat
another pu mpkin-a fat good-natured gentleman and pater
familias with a kind of m ap traced in purple veins on his
nose and cheeks ; beside him sat his inseparable life co m­
p anion who in no way resembled a pumpkin, but rather a
drie d pep per c oncealed under a taffeta tent of a bonnet ;
facing these two was a pleasant no segay made up of three
rural graces, who no doub t held out fond hopes to their
mama and papa, and at the same time filled their tender
hearts with concern . When that mobile garden passed by,
silence again settled over the town. Suddenly fro m a
by-street came the b awling o f a gay Rus sian song, and
p resently three b o atmen in short red blouses and ornament­
ed h ats, with athletic b odies and that swaggering lo ok we
all know so well, came into the main street with arms
entwined ; one o f the m had a b alalaika, less for m aking
music than for giving the company an air ; the one with the
balalaika could hardly restrain his feet, the movements o f
his shoulders clearly showed he longed t o break into a
dance, and why di d he not ? This is why : as if fro m out o f
the earth but prob ab ly from under an arch appeared a
ferocious policeman waving a stick, and the song, which
had briefly roused the town from its leaden apathy , ended
as i f cut down ; the b alalaika-owner shook a finger at the
p olice man ; this grim de fender o f the peace proudly
withdrew under the arch again like a spider returning to its
dark corner after slaying a fly . The silence was more
oppressive than eve r ; it began to grow dark . As Beltov sat
watching he quaile d , it was as if an iron weight pressed on

167
his chest, he felt stifled, p erhaps by the smell o f burnt o il
and stale tobacco coming from the floor b elow. He seized
his hat, put on his coat, locked the d o or behind him and
went outdoors. The town was not large, it took little time
to cross it from one end to the other. The s ame emptiness
everywhere. To be sure he m et a few people : a worn-out
serving-maid with p ails of water s winging from a y o ke ,
who stopped t o catch her breath ·from tim e to time, as i f
climbing the slippery hill b arefoot was s apping her last
strength ; a fat priest in his domestic ro bes who was sitting
in front o f his house watching the serving-maid with a
genial s mile on his face ; a few lean shop-assistants and a
corpulent Counsellor. All of them looked greasy and badly
dressed, not because of poverty but b e cause of sloven­
liness, yet their manner was pretentious ; the Titular Coun­
sellor held himself as if he were a Ro m an senat o r ; the
Collegiate Registrar as if he were a Titular Counsellor; the
Chief o f Police went galloping p ast in a sleigh ; he bowed to
th e Counsellor with m aj estic grace, pointi ng gravely at a
paper slipped into his buttonhole, which m eant he was
hurry ing to an afternoon appointment with His Ex cellency
the Governor. B eltov's last encounter was with two fat
m erchants' wives returning from the public b ath-h ouse ; at
their heels came a cook carrying their birch b esoms and
bundles of clothes (the wives' re d cheeks testified to the
goo d use made of the besoms). He m et nobody els e.
" What could b e the meaning o f this silence ? "
wondered Beltov. " Profound thought or pro found ab sence
o f thought? A state of m elancholy or m ere indolence ? I
cannot tell. And why should this s ilence weigh down upon
me so heavily that I long to run away ? Why should it
oppress me s o ? I am fo nd o f silence. Silence at the seaside,
or in a village , or out in the fields-flat fields receding i nto
the distance-such silence b rings a feeling of p oetic eleva­
tion and serene s elf-efface m ent. There is nothing o f that
here. There-vast sp aces filled with silence ; here-so dismal
and oppressive, dingy buildings , not even ruins, all p atched
and painted and whitewas hed. And where are their i nha­
bitants ? Was the town taken by siege yesterday, or de­
cimated by the plague? Nothing o f the sort , its inhabitants
are at home, they are resting. Fro m what ? When did they
ever wo rk ? " In his min d' s eye Beltov saw the nois y ,

168
crowded streets of other towns, less patriarchal and more
given to the world's vanities. He began to feel the discom­
fiture that attends the making of a wrong decision, espe­
cially when the error first becomes apparent. Sadly he
turned back to the inn. As he was approaching it, the rich,
echoing ring of a bell came from the monastery at the edge
of town ; the sound reminded Vladimir of something deep
in the past, he felt an impulse to go in the direction of the
bell, but he checked the impulse and , with a smile and a
shake o f his head, hastened back to the inn. Poor victim of
a doubting age ! Not in this town will you find peace !
After devoting a few days to serious reading and a
diligent study of the rules and regulations governing elec­
tions among the nobility, he dressed himself with particu­
lar care and set out to make obligatory calls. Three hours
later he came back distressed, exhausted, and with a
headache ; he asked for some mint-water and dampened his
forehead with eau de cologne. The eau de cologne and
mint-water straightened out his thoughts and as he lay
there alone on the couch, he frowned one minute and
almost burst out laughing the next. He went over in his
mind all that he had seen from the moment he entered the
Governor's waiting-room (where he spent a few delightful
moments in the company of a gendarme, two merchants of
the first guild and two footmen who greeted every visitor
with the odd salutation "I hope you enjoyed the last
holiday", and, like proud Britons, held out their hands,
those fortunate hands that enjoyed the daily privilege of
helping the Governor into his carriage until the moment
when he found himself in the drawing-room of the Marshal
of the Nobility, in which this esteemed representative of
the gubernia 's brilliant society assured him that nothing
prepared a man for civil service like military service, that
the latter supplied the main thing and that once he had the
main thing it was nothing to acquire all else ; later he
confided to Beltov that, as a true patriot, he was building a
stone church for his village and that he could not abide
noblemen who played cards, supported French mistresses
and went frequently to Paris instead of seiVing in the
cavalry and improving their estates-all of these remarks
being barb s aimed at Beltov. Beltov could not free his
mind of a number of characters met that day. At one time

1 69
he was haunted by the gubernia Prosecutor, who in three
minutes repeated six times : " You too are a man <;f ed � ­
cation and so you must understand that I have httle m
common with our honourable Governor; I address all my
business directly to the Minister of Justice, who is at the
same time the Solicitor General. The Governor is a good
chap and I have done what I could for His Excellency,
have 'read, read and again read ', but I can do no more ; we
do not see things eye to eye, well, I offer him the respect
due his rank and that is all; no one can force me, I am not
a Counsellor on the gubernia Administration." Each time
he pronounced this speech he took out a prickly silver
snuff-box and took a pinch of hunting tobacco that bore
an extraordinary likeness to the French sort except for its
revolting smell. Another time it was the Chairman of the
Civil Court, a tall, thin, emaciated man who demonstrated
his uncorruptibility by being dirty and unkempt. Again it
was General Khraschov, surrounded by a great many poor
landowners, two former police sergeants, hunting dogs and
huntsmen, servants, three nieces and two sisters ; in
Beltov's recollection the General shouted as he did in his
own drawing-room, whistled for his valet Mitka, and
treated his hound with the greatest humanity. Again it was
our friend Anton Antonovich, Chairman of the Criminal
Court, in his frog-coloured dressing-gown and accompanied
by the Counsellor with the Order of St. Anna in his
buttonhole. Little by little this group of faces receded in
Beltov's mind and merged into the single face of a
colossal functionary with knitted brows, the face of
an evasive individual of few words who could yet stand
up for his rights. Beltov realised he could not contend
with this Goliath, that he was not to be slain by a stone
from a sling-shot, no, not even if that stone be the
size of the granite pedestal of Peter the Great's mo­
nument.
Beltov's was a strange case. From the moment he set
out for foreign parts he had lived intensively mentally and
emotionally, with mind and feelings exposed to constant
stimulation. Life has not been lived in vain by those who
have been roused by some great idea-the days seem to
pass imperceptibly, today a repetition of yesterday , yet
suddenly such people cast a look backward and discover to

1 70
 their amazement that they have covered enormous ground
and accumulated an untold wealth of experience . So it was
with Beltov; he had gained a lot and spent a lot, but had
not reached final shape. Now he was confronted by reality
a second time in circumstances similar to those o f the
civil-service office. And once again he funked. He lacked
the practical understanding that teaches a man to distin­
guish the letters in the handwriting of events ; he was too
isolated fro m the world about him. The reason for this
isolation is clear : his Swiss tutor had made an abstract man
of him, like Rousseau 's Emile ; the university had con­
tinued this abstract education; his friendship with five or
six youths filled with hopes and dreams as great as was
their ignorance o f life outside of university halls, had limi­
ted Beltov's thinking to a circle oi ideas utterly alien to the
world in which he was destined to live. In the end the
university gates closed behind him and the friendship that
was to have lasted until death faded and faded until it
- became but a memory, revived by chance (and needlessly)
on rare occasions, mostly over a bottle of wine. New gates
were opened to him with an audible squeak. Beltov passed
through them and found himself in an unknown land, so
unfamiliar in fact that he could find no place for himself
therein; he was out of sympathy with every aspect of the
life surging about him ; he was incapable of becoming an
efficient landowner, an exemplary officer or an industrious
official-the only place left to him was among his idle
peers who gave themselves up to card-playing and de­
bauchery ; it does him credit that he felt more sympathy
fo r the latter than fo r the former, but he could not give
himself up to their pursuits ; he was too cultivated and the
dissipations of these gentlemen were too coarse and
unclean. He had tried his hand at medicine and painting,
he had gambled and caroused and-had left the country. It
goes without saying that he did not find a place for himself
in foreign lands ; he studied unsystematically, studied
everything under the sun, he a mazed German scholars by
the many-sidedness of the Russian mind, he amazed the
French by his deepness, but while the Germans �nd the
French accomplished much, he accomplished nothing; h e
spent his time practising shooting with his revolver, sitting
in cafes till late at night, giving his body, soul and purse to
i 7 I
some lorette. Such a life could but arouse in him a morbid
longing for useful activity. Despite the intensive mental
and emotional life he had lived in days of apparent
idleness, he never overcame the total absence of a practical
view of life resulting from his early education. This, there,
is why, in the first place, Beltov made the excellent and
praiseworthy resolution to take an active part in the affairs
of his gubernia and why, in the second, he was not only
astonished on meeting people he ought to have known
from the day of his birth, or ought at least to have found
out about before entering into such close relations with
them-not only astonished, I say, but so overcome by their
speech, manners and way of thinking that he was ready to
surrender the resolution that had buoyed him up for
months beforehand without o ffering the least resistance,
without putting up any fight at all.
Happy is the man who carries on work already begun,
who receives his occupation as an inheritance: he is intro­
duced to it at an early age, he has no need to spend half his
life making a choice ; his energies, being confined and con­
centrated, are not wasted; accordingly, he accomplishes
something. We, on the other hand, are always beginning all
over again ; the only thing we inherit from our fathers is
movable and immovable property, and this we rarely
preserve intact ; that is why most of us are inclined to do
nothing, and if we should desire to do something, we find
ourselves in a boundless steppe-here, go wherever you
like : north, east, south, west! -free we are, but we will
never get anywher e, and all because of our many-faceted
inactivity, our active indolence.
Beltov was precisely this sort of person; he had never
come of age despite the m aturity of his thinking; in a
word , at the age of thirty he, like a sixteen-year-old, was
just getting ready " to enter upon life, and he was unaware
that the door opening before him ever wider and wider was
not the door through which gladiator enter the arena, but
the one through which their dead bodies are carried
out.
" Ah, but Beltov himself is much to blame."
I agree with you wholly; but there are those who con­
tend that sometimes guilt is better than inno cence. Things
are so contradictory in this world !
172
 Before Beltov had been a month in the town of X he
had succeeded in winning the hatred of all the local gentry ,
and this did not prevent his being hated by all the functio­
naries as well. Among those who hated him were people
who had never set eye upon him, and those who, if they
had set eye upon him, had no relations with him what­
soever; theirs was a pure, disinterested hatred, but even
disinterested emotions have their cause. It is not difficult
to guess why Beltov was hated. The gentry and function­
aries moved in two more or less closed circles, but circles
that were kindred and sympathetic; they had the same
interests, dissensions, parties, opinions and customs-all of
them, incidentally, common to the gentry of all gubemias,
to functionaries of the entire empire. If a Counsellor from
the town of Y were to appear in the town of X, he would
be an active and respected member of the community
within a week; and if our old friend Chichikov* were to
come there, the Chief of Police would hold a drinking
party in his honour and all other officials would dance
about · him and call him a fine fellow :. obviously they
would recognise their kinship with him. But Beltov?
Beltov, who had retired from the civil service "within four­
teen years and six months of receiving his buckle" as the
witty Supervisor's Assistant had put it? Beltov, who
admired all that these people despised, who spent his time
reading harmful books while they spent theirs over a useful
game of cards? Beltov, this wanderer in Europe, this
stranger abroad and stranger at home, this aristocrat in
appearance and man of the 1 9th century by conviction?
What chance had Beltov of being accepted by provincial
society ? He could no more share their interests than they
could share his, and so they hated him, realising instinc­
tively that in Beltov they met a protest, an exposure of
their way of life, a denunciation of their entire order.
Added to this were a great many minor offenses : he made
few calls and made them tardily, he wore a surtout for his
morning visits, he rarely addressed the Governor as Your
Excellency and never the Marshal of Nobility, a retired
regiment commander of Dragoons, whose Marshalship
* Chichikov-the machinator who is the chief character of Gogol's
Dead Souls.- Tr.

1 73
made of him an Excellency ; he was so courteous to his
valet that guests felt slighted ; he spoke to women as i f they
too were human beings ; and in general he was much too
free in his speech. As for his reputation among the lower
representatives of the bureaucracy, it was lost on the very
day of his arrival by his having blocked their free passage
to the billiard room. It goes without saying that the hatred
for Beltov was so discreet that it expressed itself only
behind h1s back. To his face it lavished such crude and
foolish attentions upon him that it might almost have
passed for love. Every member of local society tried to get
Beltov to his house so that he could boast of it later, so
that he or she would have the right to reiterate in succeed­
ing conversation : " Now when Beltov was visiting us . . . I
told him bluntly ... " and in the end they were _sure to utter
some innocent calumny.
All measures were taken by the go od citizens to defeat
Beltov's candidacy at the elections, or at least to elect him
to a post nobody in his right mind would willingly accept.
At first Beltov did not notice their hatred nor their parlia­
mentary machinations ; when he did become aware o f them
he determined to see matters through to the end at any
cost . . .. But have no fear, reader; for a reason well known
to myself, but one which I, as author, have a right to
conceal, I shall spare you the details o f these elections. I
am interested now in matters of a personal rather than a
social nature.

Chapter II

No doubt you have long forgotten ab out the existence

of two young people relegated to the background by this
long digression : Luba and Krutzifersky, the dear modest
fellow. Much has taken place in their lives since we last
met them. We left them about to get married ; we meet
them now as husband and wife holding by the hand their
three-year-old bambino Y asha.
We shall not speak ab out the four intervening years ;
they were happy years, whose days p assed quietly and

1 74
 harmoniously ; the happiness of love, especially o f richly
gratified love, free of the anxiety of anticipation, is a
mystery-a mystery belonging to two people only ; a third
is superfluous ; no witness is necessary ; in this complete
dedication of two people to each other lies the
peculiar beauty and inexpressible joy of mutual
love.
I could tell the story o f their external lives, but it
would not be worth the effort : daily cares, a deficiency of
money, quarrels with the cook, the purchase of furniture
-all of these things left on them its dust, as they do on all
of us, exasperatingly, but the next moment the dust was
gone without leaving a trace or even a memory. Through
the efforts of Dr. Krupov, Krutzifersky received a situation
as senior master in the local Gymnasium, he also tutored
privately and was even paid in full by some of the parents ;
on this income the little family could live modestly, which
was all they aspired to do.
Alexei Abramovich refused to give Luba more than ten
thousand as dowry, much as Dr. Krupov pleaded for more ,
but as compensation he resolutely took upon himself the
task o f furnishing the young couple's home. This he did
rather successfully by transferring to their new house all
the old furniture from his own house and store-sheds that
he did not need, assuming it was precisely this that they
did need. In this way the historical carriage that Alexei
Abramovich had been brooding upon at the very moment
that youthful Glafira Lvovna had been brooding upon his
daughter born of sinful love-a carriage now old, lop-sided,
tarnished with age , with broken springs and a considerable
dent in one side, was delivered with difficulty to the Kru­
tzifersky's little back yard ; since they had no carriage­
house, the vehicle served for some time as a refuge for the
hens. Alexei Abramovich despatched a horse to go with
the carriage, but unfortunately the horse died on the way,
a thing which never before had happened to him in the
twenty long years of honest service in the General's
stables ; it is hard to say whether it died o f old age or of
indignation because the peasant who drove put his own
horse as wheel-horse and him as leader as soon as they
were out of sight of the master's house ; however this may
be, die it did, and the peasant was so shocked that for

1 75
six months thereafter he kept himself out of his master's
sight.
One of Alexei Abramovi ch's best gifts was made on the
morning of the young people's departure ; he summoned
into his presence two house-serfs named Nikolai and
Palasha; Nikolai was a consumptive young man of about
twenty-five, Palasha-a pock-marked young girl. When they
entered the room he assumed a grave, almost a grim look,
and said : "Bow to the ground and kiss the hands of Lubov
Alexandrovna and Dmitri Yakovlich ! " It was not easy to
execute the second command : the embarrassed young
couple blushed, held their hands behind their backs, and
did not know how to behave. The head of the family went
on, " From now on they are your masters ! " (This was
sp oken in the loud voice befitting so impressive an announce·
ment. ) "Serve them well and all will be well with you."
(This, you may remember, was said o nce before.) " And
you," (turning to the young couple) "be kind and merciful
to them if they behave themselves properly, and send them
to me if they misbehave : they will come back soft as silk
once they have had a taste of the schooling I offer mis­
creants. And do not spoil them, either. Here is my gift at
parting. I know you are both inexperienced householders,
you would not know how to manage free servants ; and in
general free servants are a curse. If something displeases
them they can take their passports like the lord of the
manor himself and go elsewhere to seek employment. ' Well,
bow again and be off with you ! " With these words the
General eloquently concluded the ceremony. Nikolai and
Palasha bowed once more to their new masters, and went
out. Thus ended the ceremony of their transfer to another
household. On that same day our young people moved
into town accompanied by consumptive Nikolai and
Palasha with the bas-relief complexion.
The Krutziferskys began an excellent sort of life. They
demanded so little of the world, they were so pleased with
each other, so filled with m utual affection, that it was
difficult not to take them for foreigners : in no way did
they resemble their fellow-townsmen. Remarkable as it
may seem, certain good people assume that Russians as a
whole and provincial Russians in p articular are devoted to
the patriarchal form of family life ; the fact is that we are

1 76
unable to drag family relations over the threshold o f edu­
cation ; even m ore remarkable is it th at when we lose inte ­
rest in fam ily life we do not acquire interest in any other;
family life dies away without the compensation o f bro ader
interests and enriched p ersonalities. We assume a purely
formal attitude towards the family ; nothing but outer
show re mains, like stage settings : if husbands did not scold
their wives and p arents di d not tyrannise over their
children it would be hard to discover what couples h ad in
co mmon and why they went on torturing each other by
living together. Anyone who wishes to find amenity in the
family mus t look for it in the drawing-room, never in the
bed-chamber; we are not like the Germans, who c an
remain honestly h appy in all chambe rs o f the house for
thirty years on end. We can b o ast of exceptions, o f course ,
and the young Kru tziferskys were such an ex cep tio n. They
set up houseke eping simply, m odestly, without caring how
others lived, gmded b y their own p ossibilities; they m ade
no attempt to compete with others , they did not spend
their l ast kopek on m aking a show o f wealth , nor did they
cultivate twenty or thirty superfluous acquaintances ; in a
word , the home o f our m odest schoolmaster remain ed
untouched by m ost o f tho se artificial conventions that
everyone laughs at yet no one has the courage to rise
above, and which constitute something similar to the Lan­
caster system of mutual urging. Indeed the ex ample
offered by our young couple wrought a ch ange even in
Dr. Krup ov's attitude towards family life.
On th e day that B eltov, weighed down by forebod­
ings and by the absence of life in this town, worked
o ff his bitterness and indignation by p acing its s treets
with his h ands deep in his p ocke ts, he could h ave be­
held then, as now, a scene in one o f the houses he
�
p assed th at gave p ro o f of the pos� ibil ty o f h ap p i­
.
ness on this earth . There was somethmg m this family
scene reminding one of a su mmer evening in a
garden, when the wind h as died down and the pond
is still as a loo king-glass, its me tal-like surface gilded
by the se tting sun ; through the trees a distan t village
can be glimpsed, a h aze is ris ing o ff the earth , the herd
is m aking its way home accompanied by a m ixed chorus of
cries , moos and the s t amping o f hoofs, and with all one's

12-171 177
heart one is convinced that earth has nothing lovelier to
o ffer; fortunately all will be gone within the hour and
night will put in a timely appearance, saving the evening' s
reputation, making us regret its loss b e fore we have time to
weary o f its beauty . In a s mall neat ro om Dr. Semyon
Ivanovich Krupov was seated on the settee, the o nly guest ,
and a welcome one. A young woman was smiling a s she
filled his pipe for him , her husb and, in an armchair,
glanced with serene love from one to the other. Presently a
three-year-old child pattered into the room an d made
directly-that is to say, between the legs of the table as
through a tunnel-for Dr. Krup ov, who m he loved fo r his
watch which could be made to strike at any time and from
which were susp ended two sardonyx seals.
" Good day to you, Yasha," said the do ctor, reaching
for the child under the table and putting him on his kne e .
Y asha seized a seal and pulled on i t .
" Give him to m e , he'll keep y o u from your pipe an d
your tea , " said the child' s m other, although deep in her
heart s he was certain that nob ody at any time could fin d
her s o n a nuisance.
" Be good e nough to leave us alo ne , I will disp ose o f
him myself when I a m tired o f him," and Semyon Iva­
novich took his watch out of his vest p ocket and m ade it
strike. Yasha listened in rapture, held it up to the doctor' s
ear , then to his mother's and, reading astonishm ent in their
faces, put it in his mouth.
" Children are one of life's greatest j oy," observed the
doctor. "Old men like me take particular ple asure in strok­
ing their curly heads and gazing i nto their b right eyes.
The sight o f these fre sh sprouts keep s us fro m ge tting
savage and selfish. But I must frankly own that I d o not
regret having no children o f my own. What would I do
with the m? Now, . you see , God has sent me a grandchild,
and when I am too old for anything else I will become his
nanny . "
"Nanny's there ," sai d Yasha, pointing with satisfactio n
to the door.
" Let me be your nanny. "
Yasha was about to respond by letting out a loud cry ,
but his mothe r interrupted i t by directing his attenti o n to
the gold buttons on Dr. Krupov's coat.

1 78
 " I am fond o f children , " went on the elder man.
" Indeed I am fo nd of people in general and when I was
younger I could not resist a pretty face ; at least five times I
was head over heels in love, but I have an aversion for
family life . A man can feel free and peaceful only if he
lives alone . Family life seems to be specially designed to
make the people living together under one ro of weary o f
each other; inevitably they become enemies, whereas i f
they did not live together they would b e friends t o the end
of their days , they ge t in each other's way when they live
toge ther. "·

" Oh, come, Se myon Ivano vich," pro tes ted Krutzi­
fersky. " Think what you are saying ! You have no know­
ledge of this side of life , the best, the riches t in harm ony
and happiness. Who wants that freedo m you sp eak o f, that
egois m , lacking in all feeling? "
" There you go ! How many tim es have I warned you,
Dmitri Yakovlich, that I am not to be frightened by the
word ' e goism ' ? Are not you the proud o ne , ju st ! ' Lacking
in all fe eling as if the only feelings in this world were a
husband's adoration o f his wife , a wife's o f her husband,
the j ealous eagerness to gobble each other up for their own
satiety without le aving anything for others , the so rrowing
over their own griefs and the rej oicing over their own
happiness. Sir, I know only too well that self-sacrificing
love of yours ; I have no wish to boast, but once the subj ect
has been broached . . . consider, my friend: I approach a
patient's bed afte r having left him in a bad s tate-yes, yes ,
the pulse is stronger, the patient lifts weak eyes to my face
and presses my hand-that is feeling fo r you, sir ! As for
egois m-who but the insane are not egoists ? Only some
are out and out egoists and others-as the saying goes : The
sam e fish, but this morsel served with sauce. If the truth be
told, there is no ego is m as narrow as family egoism ."
"I cannot think why you are so opposed to family life ,
Semyon I vanovich," said Luba. " I have been married for
fo ur ye ars now and I feel free, I do not fin d life a burden
and a sacrifice either for me or for my husband."
" He who has bro ken the bank praises the gam e.
Miracles do happen; you are an ex ception to the rule , but
that only proves the rule. Two years ago the tailor's little
girl -you know the tailor Pankrato v, who lives on Moscow

12* 1 79
Stree t-well, his little girl fell out of a first fl oor window
on to the pave ment. Would not you expect her to be
severely inj ured ? Nothing o f the sort ! A scratch, a b ruise ,
and nothing more. Dare you, on tha� exam ple , t hrow out
another child ? And yet, unfortunately, his girl is no w
wasting away with an illness. "
" I hope that is not meant as a dire forecast for us ! "
said Luba, placing a gentle hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"I have had no fe ar of your forecasts since the time you
warned my husband o f the dreadful consequence s o f our
marriage . "
" So y o u have been holding this against me all this
time? For shame ! And a fine man he ! -tattling like a
schoolb o y ! Well, it turne d out I was wrong, thank God !
Pray forget it now. ' He who remembers a wrong must p ay
with an eye' -even if the eyes are as charm ing as yours . "
" I see you are n o t y e t t o o old to pay compliments ."
" I will pay you a b igger and better com pliment : se eing
how happy you two are, I have som ewhat m odified m y
views o f family life ; but do n o t fo rget that this is t h e first
time in all of my sixty years I have seen family bliss
realised not in a novel , not in a poe m , but in real life . Just
see what a rare thing it is ! "
" Who can say ? " replied Luba. " Perhap s other couples
have passed within your range of vision without your
noti cing the m . True love is not inclined to reveal itself to
the world. And inde ed , have you looked for it, an d how
have y o u looke d fo r it? Perhaps it is mere chance that y o u
have encountered so few happy married couples. And then
again, Se myon lvanovich," she added with that m ocking
cruelty and even indelicacy which is common to those who
are happy, " once you have voiced a view, you m ay feel
bound to persist in it, you may feel that an admission o f
mistake would b e a j udge ment passed o n your entire life
and a recognition that it is too late to change it."
" Not at all ! " retort e d the elder m an vehem ently .
" Have no fear o f such a thing; never shall I regret t he past,
in the first place b e cause it is folly to regret what cannot
be changed; and in the second, b e cause I am calmly
approaching the end of life as an old b achelor while y ou,
my dear friends, have barely set out on your voyage ."
"I do not know your purpose in making that l ast

1 80
 remark," said Krutzifersky, "but it has touched me to the
quick and revived in me one o f those insistent and devas­
tating thoughts that are enough to poison moments of the
highest rapture. Sometimes my happiness terrifies me; like
the owner of countless riches, I fear the future, I fear-"
" You fear a reckoning, is that it? Ha, hal Oh, you
dreamers ! Who measured out your happiness to you, and
who is to deduct from it? What a childish conception!
Chance and you yourself made your happiness, and there­
fore it is yours and it would be absurd to punish you for it.
Oh, it is true that chance-mindless, implacable chance­
can one day rob you of your happiness; anything can
happen : perhaps the beams of this ceiling are rotten and
will fall on us, so let us abandon this house ; but where are
we to go ? Perhaps we will be bitten by a mad dog in the
yard, or be knocked down in the street by a run-away
horse. If we allowed our minds to dwell on all the perils
threatening us on every hand it would be better to take an
overdose of opium and sleep forever."
" I have always been amazed at the ease with which
you accept life, Semyon lvanovich; that is your good
fortune, your exceptional good fortune, but it is not given
to everyone ; you, for instance, speak o f chance with com­
posure, and I am unable to do so. My giving the name o f
'chance' t o the unknown link connecting the events of my
life makes it no easier for me. Things do not occur for
nothing, everything has lofty meaning; _ it was not for
nothing you found me in my Moscow garret-there were
many other tutors available in Moscow, why should you
have come to me? Was it not because I, and I alone,
possessed the sum of attributes making it possible to eman­
cipate this pure and noble creature, as a result of which my
life took a shape I dared not contemplate in my most
sanguine thoughts and dreams : I achieved immeasurable
happiness. Where is the j ustice, if this is to continue for the
rest o f my life ? I submit to my happiness as another might
submit to his unhappiness, yet I cannot free myself of fear
of the future."
" That is to say, of something that does not exist ! For
my part, I never have and never will comprehend the
morbid fancy that enjoys torturing itself with imaginary
ills and invented misfortunes, and which grieves before
181
there is anything to grieve over. To b e born with such a
character is in deed a curse. It is time enough to weep and
wear a long face when misfortune overtakes us and gri ef
strikes us down. But for one who is o ffered a glass o f
sp arkling wine t o lament that tom orrow h e will have
nothing b ut kvass-that is a kind of madness. The inability
to live in the pres ent and trust the future is one of the
moral scourges of our times. We are like those Je ws who
deprive themselves o f food and dri n k so as to put away
money in the trunk for b ad times, yet however b ad the
times, the trunk is not opened. What sort of life is that ? "
" I agree with you p erfectly, Semyo n lvanovich ," put
in Luba warmly . "I have o ften spoken to Dmitri on this
subj ect. If I am happy now, why should I worry ab o ut the
future ? I don't even want to think of it. Often he agrees
with me, but that secret sorrowing is implanted so deep
within him that he cannot overcome it. And indeed why
should he? " she added , sending her husband a b right and
kindly glance. "I even love his m elancholy, it shows him to
b e so p ro found. I dare say you and I fail to understand it,
or at least to sympathise with it, b ecause we are m ore.
sup erficial, more easily pleased, more amused and distracted
by ext ernal things . "
" Began with a wedding march, ended u p with a funeral
dirge ! I wante d to kiss your hand when you b egan, and to
say to your husb and : ' This is the true human approach to
life ! ' b ut you ended up b y calling his moros eness­
profundity ; a fine sort of pro fundity-to rturi ng him s elf
when he ought to be rejo icing ! Weeping over things that
may never o ccur ! "
" Aren't you b eing too exclusive, Semyon Ivanovi ch ?
Yo u must allow for certain sensitive natures that are in­
capable of enjo ying co mplete hap piness on this eart h , who
are willing to give of them selves completely but cannot
give up that sad note that is waiting in the bottom of their
hearts to be sounded . It requires a coarser nature to enjoy
happiness unalloye d ; this is a thought that often o ccurs to
me; see, by way o f example, how completely happy are
the b irds and the b easts, and that is b ecause they under­
stand less than we do."
"It is a sorry thing, then, " took up the relentless
doctor, " to be endowed with the highest nature when one

182
is obliged to live no higher and no lower than on the earth.
I own that I accep t such loftiness as mere physical indis­
position, a fit of nerves ; sponge yourself with cold water
and take more exercise and half of your excursions into
starry space will be eliminated. From birth you have had a
weak constitution, Dmitri Yakovlich; mental powers are
often highly developed in people with weak constitutions,
bu t usually developed crookedly, in an abstract, fanciful,
mystical direction. That is why the ancient ideal was : mens
sana in corpore sana. Take the pale, blond Germans-why
are they dreamers, why do they drop their heads and weep
so often? Because of scrofula and the climate ; those are
the things that make them spend their lives defending
mystical theses and anti-theses instead of getting down to
earth and doing things."
"They are correct who say that the medical profession
cultivates a dry, materialistic outlook; you are in such
close association with man's material aspect that you
forget his other aspect, which escapes the scalpel
and yet which alone giVes meaning to coarse
matter."
" Oh, these idealists ! " expostulated Semyon Iva­
novich, ill concealing his growing irritation. "Always
coming out with some absurd allegation. Whoever told
them that medicine consists only of anatomy? They have
made it up for their own consolation. And what is coarse
matter? I know neither coarse nor refined matter-only
living matter. You are clever, you modern scholars, but
you swim in shallow waters. This is our old quarrel, it will
never end, and so we had better change the subject. Just
see ! -we have put Yasha to sleep with our bickering .
Sleep, little one. Your papa has not yet taught you to
despise the earth and matter, he has not yet convinced you
that these adorable little arms and legs are but lumps of
mud stuck on to you. Lubov Alexandrovna, I beseech you
not to instil such ideas in him; condone them in your
husband if you wish, that is your affair, but I implore you
no t to in fect this innocent babe with them in his early
years. What will you make o f him if you do? A dreamer.
He will spend his days searching for the blue bird and
meanwhile real life will pass him by. Is that what you wish
for him? Here, take him."
183
 The old doctor gave Yasha to his mother, took up his
cap and said, as he slowly buttoned up his coat :
"I forgot to tell you I met a most interesting gentle­
man the other day."
" Beltov, I fancy," said Luba. " His arrival has caused
such a sensation that even I heard of it from the director's
wife. "
"Beltov, of course. The townsmen are impressed be­
cause he happens to be rich, but the fact is he is an ex­
ceptional man, he knows everything, has seen everything,
and is clever ; a little spoiled, perhaps-the work of his
doting mama; he was not brought up in need, as we were;
life was easy for him , and now he is dying o f boredom, is
thoroughly miserable. You can imagine what this town
seems to him after Paris ! "
" Beltov? Wait," said Dmitri Yakovlich, " the name
seems familiar. Could he have been at Moscow University
when I was there? There was a Beltov who graduated the
year I entered ; they said at the time he was extremely
clever; had been tutored by a Swiss, I believe."
" The very man, the very one."
"I remember him, we were slightly acquainted."
"I dare say he would be glad to meet you ; it is
like finding a fortune to meet a cultivated man in this
backwoods. Beltov is not one who can live in solitude,
if my observation of him is correct. He needs to talk,
to exchange ideas, he is pinning away from loneli­
ness. "
"If you find no objection, I will call on him."
" Good, we will go together. But wait-I am too im­
pulsive in my old age ; his. station does not allow o f your
making the first call. I will tell him about you tomorrow; if
he wishes, I will bring him here. Goodbye, my fellow­
arguer, goodbye." .
" Bring Beltov tomorrow," said Luba. " I have heard so
much about him I can hardly wait to meet him."
" He is worth meeting, indeed he is," said the old doc­
tor as he stepped into the hall.
Krupov was always arguing with Krutzifersky , always
losing his temper and saying they were growing farther and
farther apart in their views ; this, however, did not interfere
in the least with their growing closer and closer in in-
184
timacy. For Dr. Krup ov, the Krutzi fersky family was his
family ; he wen t to them to ease his he art, which was still a
very warm heart , and to find rest by b asking in their
happ iness. For the Krutzifers kys , the doctor was the eldest
of their family-their father, perhaps, or their uncle , b ut an
uncle who m love-ties and not bloo d-ties gave the right to
scold them and even be rude to them at ti mes ; the young
couple fo rgave him from the b ottom of their hearts and
�ere unhappy if they did not s ee him for two days run­
mng.
At ab out s even o ' clock of the following evening
Dr. Krup ov bro ught Beltov to the Krutzi ferskys' in his sled
drawn b y two roans and spread with a yellow rug. Beltov
was n aturally delighted to be introduced at last to a person
he could respect and the thought never o ccurred to him
that he was paying a first visit. His hosts were a bit e mb ar­
rassed at first : the p raise D r. Krup ov had heaped on the
young m an's head , the rum ours of his extensive travels
ab road and of his riches-all these things were vaguely
remembered when he entered the ro o m , an d this m ade the
introduction rather stiff ; their self-con sciousn ess , however,
soon p assed. Beltov's speech and manner were so open and
unaffe cte d and he displayed such tact, an attribute o f cul­
tivated and sensitive souls , that before half an hour had
p assed they were talking together like old frien ds. Even
Lub a , unaccusto med as she was to meeting strangers , was
involuntarily drawn into the conversati on. Beltov and
D mitri Yakovlich recalled their university days, the
numerous an ecdotes that were current at the time, their
youthf ul hopes and aspi rations . It had been a long time
sin ce Beltov had enj o yed hi mself so much an d he heartily
thanked the doctor as they were driving b ack to the
Keresb erg Inn.
" Well, how do you like your new acquaintance ? " the
doctor later asked his young friends.
" Th at is a superfluous questi on," replied Krutzi fersky.
"I found him very likeab le," said Lub a.
Happy to have given everybody such sati s faction,
Se myon Ivanovi ch play fully shook a finger at them.
Lu b a blushed.
Family scenes have their fascination. Havi ng co mplete d
this one I shall now p resent another. Let me assure you

185
that the connection between them will become apparent in
due course of time.

Chapter III

Karp Kondratich, Marshal of the N obility of Dubassov

Uyezd had a daughter named Varvara, or Vava, as she was
called at home. This would have been no great misfortune
if, besides a daughter, Karp Kondratich had not had a wife
and Vava a dear mother nam ed Maria Stepanovna. This
changed circumstances radically. Karp Kondratich was a
model of docility in family life ; a truly amazing m etamor­
phosis took place in him when he transferred from the
stables to the dining-room, from the threshing-floor to the
bed-chamber. If we were not in possession of reliable docu­
ments contributed by eminent travellers testifying to the
fact that one an d the same Englishman could be a harsh
plantation manager and a tender father, we might doubt
the possibility of such dual personalities. On giving the
matter deeper consideration, however, one m ust conclude
that this is only as it ought to be. Outside of the house,
which is to say in the stables and on the threshing-floor,
Karp Kondratich waged war: he was a captain of war who
delivered blow after blow to rebellious traitors guilty of
laziness, insufficient devotion to his interests, incomplete
dedication of their lives to his four fine boys, and similar
cri mes ; in his own drawing-room he readily received the
cushiony embrace of his loyal spouse and his daughter's
sweet face lifted for his kiss ; he discarded the heavy
armour of a plantation owner and became, if not a good­
tempered man, at least a good-tempered Karp Kondratich.
His wife's situation was quite different. For some
twenty years she "had been carrying on partisan warfare
within the four walls of her house, from time to time
making brief sorties to obtain eggs and wool belonging to
her peasants . Frequent scrimmages with cook, butler and
chamber-maids kept her in a constant state of irritation.
To her honour let it be said that these petty occupations
did not absorb her attention to the exclusion of everything
else ; with tears in her eyes she pressed her seventeen-year-

186
old Vava to her bosom when the girl's aunt brought her
home fro m Moscow, whe re s he had j ust completed her
scho oling. This was not the cook, mind you, nor the cham­
ber-maid, it was her own child , in whose veins fl owed h er
own bloo d , an d t his i mposed a sacred duty upon her. At
fi rst she allowed Vava to res t, to walk in the garden , es­
pecially on m oonlight nights ; all this was new to the girl ,
who had been bro ught up within the confinement of
school walls ; she found it " c harming, bewitching" . As she
gazed at the moon she recalled one or another of her
adored friends and was convinced that they were thinking
of her at that very m om en t ; she carved their initials on
tree-trunks ; she was o f an age that cold-hearted people
scoff at but which b ri ngs a s mile to our lips-a s mile o f
sympathy rather than o f contempt, the s mile one bestows
up on child ren at play : our time of playing has passed-let
them enjoy it while they can. It is unjust, vastly unjust, to
accuse girls just out of school of affectation and exaggera­
tion. There is ardent sincerity in the dreams, the self­
sacrifice, the longing for l ove, the absence o f egoism, the
devotion and self-abnegation p eculiar to this age. Life has
brought them to a turning p o in t : the curtain has not yet
been rais ed on the future , and behind this curtain lies the
unknown-the fe arful and fascinating unkn own. The heart
yearns towards it, the body is taking fo rm, the nerves are
taut , te ars arc read y to flow without cease. Within five or
six years everything will be different ; if she marries-the
tale is told ; if s he does not marry-ah, well ; if she is blessed
with a healthy nature she will not wait for somebody else
to snatch away that mysterious curtain , she will s natch i t
away herse lf a n d adopt a di fferent attitude towards life. It
is ridiculous when a t wenty- five-years-old views the world
as d ocs a girl just out of school; it is sad when a girl just
out o f school views the world with the eyes of a twenty­
five-year-old.
Vava was n ot a b eau ty , but she poss essed a rich substi­
tute for b eauty-that something, ce quelque chose, which,
like the flavour of good wine, is appreciated only by the
discerning, and this something, as yet un developed, merely
sugge sted , together with youth, which always gives beauty
and bloom, conferre d upon her a p eculiar delicacy and
refine ment not accessible to the understanding o f all.

187
When confronted by her rather thin face and olive com­
plexion, by her angular young figure, and her thoughtful
eyes with their long lashes, one could not help looking
forward to the time when these features would find their
proper form, when these thoughts and feelings and these
eyes would acquire full definition and meaning; and one
could not help thinking how happy the man on whose
shoulder this head would rest !
Maria Stepanovna, however, was dissatisfied with her
daughter's appearance, called her an ''ugly duckling" and
ordered her to wash herself morning and evening with
pickle brine to which she added a powder designed to
remove the swarthiness she called sunburn. Vava's deport­
ment in company was another reason for her mother's
anxiety : Vava was shy, did not make eyes or try to be
gracious, and was as apt as not to retire to the garden with
a book. The book, as a first cause, was confiscated ; this
was followed by maternal admonishments to which there
was no end. Maria Stepanovna felt that Vava did not
always obey her with alacrity, that she was wont to
respond with a frown and even to answer back ; there can
be no question but that such a response required the
taking of drastic measures ; Maria Stepanovna suppressed
her warm love for her daughter for the time being and
began nagging and pursuing her every moment of the day.
She refused to allow her to take a walk when Vava wished
to do so and sent her out when the girl wished to sit at
home. She forced her to eat against her will and abused her
for not putting on flesh. Her mother's persecutions made
Vava withdraw further within herself, she became thinner
and more shy than ever. There were moments when Karp
Kondratich felt his wife was wrong in harrassing the poor
girl so; he even tried once to speak to her about it, but as
soon as he fqund himself forced to definite statements he
was overcome by so great a terror that he hastened away
to the threshing-floor, where he compensated for the
moment of terror to which he had been subjected by the
prolonged terror to which he subjected his vassals. The
field was surrendered to Maria Stepanovna. With fierce
enthusiasm she bought table-cloths, serviettes and rolls o f
linen, set seven maids t o making lace and three t o embroi­
dering unnecessary trifles for Vava's dowry. At the same

1 88
 time she plagued and tormented the girl with a vengeance
one would naturally wreak only upon a personal enemy.
When the family arrived in the gubernia centre for elec­
tions, Karp Kondratich squeezed himself with difficulty
into his nobleman's uniform (with difficulty, for he had
expanded in the intervening years and the uniform had
shrunk) and went to call on the gu bernia Chief as well as
on the Marshal of the Nobility, whom he distinguished
from the Governor by jovially calling him our His Excel­
lency. Maria Stepanovna busied herself with directing the
arrangement of their temporary quarters and unpacking
four cartloads of goods and chattels bro ught from the vil­
lage. She was assisted by three footmen, uncombed from
birth and wearing coats made of grey stuff like flannel.
Things were briskly going forward when the mistress,
s �ru � k by . a sudden thought, stopped and called out in her
nngmg voice :
" Vava, Vava, where have you disappeared? "
The poor girl, sensing danger, slipped shyly into the
room.
" Here I am, maman ."
"Just look at yourself! Are you ill? Anyone who
didn't know better would think you led a hard life in your
parents' home. That's what schooling does for you ! Makes
you come at your mother's call with a face like that ! "
Here Maria Stepanovna gave an imitation of her daughter's
long face. "I was a daughter myself once ; whenever my
mother called me I cam e to her with a bright face." Here
Maria Stepanovna represented her own bright and smiling
countenance. "All you can do is scowl.. .. Heavens ! You'll
break it, you dolt ! And what might you find amusing,
pray? The way that muzhik carries things ! There's no
teaching him ! ... Well then, my dear, enough of this ; I am
telling you for the last time that your deportment causes
me great pain; I held my tongue in the country, but I do
not intend to stand for it here ; I have not dragged all our
things such a distance only to have people call my
daughter a silly little fool. I shan't have you sitting in
corners here. Do you mean to say you cannot attract the
attentions of a single suitor? Why, I had a swarm of them
before I was fifteen. It is high time you were settled in life,
do you hear? ... Oh, you wretch ! Did not I warn you you
189
would break it? Come here, come here I tell you, and
show me, you dunderhead, how you could have broken it
so perfectly in two ! You shall pay for this when the
master comes bac k ! I myself would pull your hair for you
if it were not too greasy to touch, it's that kitchen-boy
Mitka who steals the master's oil and gives it to you ; just
you wait, he shall pay for it too ! ... Yes, Varvara Kar­
povna, be so kind as to catch a husband for yourself at
these elections ; I myself will find the candidates and do
not think I will put up with your whims any longer; who
do you think you are, indeed-a great beauty , that all men
should seek you out? Be undeceived-you excel neither in
face nor figure. And not a finger do you raise to improve
them ! You do not know how to dress or talk either, and
that after having studied in Moscow, no less ! Well, away
with the books now, my fine lady, you have had enough of
books, more than enough ; high time to get down to
business ! Out of my house you go if you do not change
your ways ! "
Vava stood as one condemned to death, finding con­
solation only in her mother's last words.
" Fancy your not being able to find a husban d ! Three
hundred and fifty souls as your marriage portion ! And
what souls ! Every one of our peasants is worth two of our
neighbours' ! And money ? I tell you . . . . What's this? ­
crying? On purpose, I believe, just to make your eyes red.
So that is how you repay your mother for all her trou­
ble ! "
She came so close to her daughter, and Vava's hair was
so soft and fluffy that it is hard to say how the scene
would have ended had not an ox in a grey flannel coat
dropped a platter at that moment. Maria Stepanovna trans­
ferred her rage to him.
" Who broke that platter? " she cried in a hoarse voice.
"It broke itself," retorted the footman in exasperation.
" Itself? It broke itself? You dare to say that to me? '"
She delivered the rest of her speech with her hands, con­
vinced no doubt that there are degrees of agitation that
can better be expressed in deeds than in words.
Unable to bear it any longer, poor Vava began weeping
loudly and threw herself down on the sofa in a fit of
hysterics. Her frightened mother called out : " Help, help,

190
water, smelling-salts, the doctor, go for the doctor! " The
hysterics did not abate, the doctor did not come, the man
who was sent for him a second time returned with the
same answer he had brought the first : " He said you would
have to wait, like as a woman's having a hard time giving
birth . . "
" Curse him ! Who had to have a baby at just this
time? "
"The prosecutor's cook," replied the man.
That was the last straw for Maria Stepanovna. Her face,
never attractive, grew purple and hideous.
"A cook? A cook? " Further words were beyond her
power.
Karp Kondratich entered with a bland contented look
on his face : the Governor had amiably shaken his hand and
the Governor's wife had shown him the carpet sent from
St. Petersburg for her drawing-room With the expression of
patriarchical simplicity under which we know so well how
to hide fawning and servility, he had said : "Who should
have such carpets, Anna Dmitrievna, if not Your Excellen­
cies? " He was very contented with all this, especially with
his own graceful remark. And now, here he was all of a
sudden in the midst of a family scene: his daughter in
hysterics, his wife in a rage, the broken platter on the
floor, Maria Stepanovna's right palm almost as red as
Tereshka's left cheek.
"What is going on? What is the matter with Vava? "
"The result of the journey : she is too young for such
an ordeal," replied the fond mother. "She could hardly be
expected to cover one hundred and twenty versts without
any ill effects; I begged you to put it off until Wednesday,
but you were too stubborn to listen to me. Now you have
the pleasure of restoring her. "
" But upon my word the journey would not have been
shortened by waiting until Wednesday."
" Your opinion is always superior. One thing I insist
on : never let that villain Dr. Krupov in our house again !
That brute, that fr�e-thinker ! I sent for him twice, and
surely I am not the least of the people in this town ! And
why did he not come? Because you do not know how to
make people respect you ; you conduct yourself worse than
a mere juror. I sent for him and he as much as spat on me:

19 1
the prosecutor's cook, if you please, is giving birth ! My
daughter is at death's door and he is attending the prosecu­
tor's coo k ! A filthy Jacobin, that's what h e is ! "
" A brute and a rascal," confirmed her spouse.
Maria Stepanovna's fierce flow of words had not ex­
pended itself before the door into the hall was opened and
the old doctor entered the room, walking-stick in hand, his
air verging on the pedantic as usual. He looked pleased
with himself, he smiled with his eyes and, unaware of his
clients' lack of response, said :
t 'Who is in need of my aid? "
"My daughter. "
" Ah, Vera Mikhailovna? What is the trouble? "
"My daughter's name is Varvara; mine is Karp," replied
the Uyezd Marshal stiffly.
"Sorry. And what might be the trouble with Varvara
Kirilovna? "
" First of all, my good man," put in Maria Stepanovna
in a voice trembling with indignation, " put our minds to
rest as to the prosecutor's coo k : has she given birth? "
"She has, and all is well," returned the doctor emphati­
cally. "I've never met with such a case before. I really
thought both mother and child were done for ; the midwife
turned out to be clumsy, my hands are old and I don't see
so well these days. Can you believe it? -the umbilical
cord .... "
"Good heavens, is the man mad? I'll hear none of
your nastiness ! The very idea ! In m y village exactly fifty
peasant wives give birth every year and I will hear nothing
about the mess of it," and the fine lady spat in disgust.
The doctor was a little slow in taking in the situation.
All night he had spent in a stuffy kitchen attending the
poor woman in labour, and he was so entirely under the
impression of the happy ending that he did not readily
perceive Maria Stepanovna's mood. She went on:
" Does the prosecutor pay you so well that you could
not leave his cook for a moment to attend to my daughter,
who nearly died? "
"Not for one moment, madam , not for one single mo­
ment, neither for your daughter' s sake nor for anybody
else's. But she cannot be so very ill ; you appear to be in no
hurry to show her to me. I knew it would be so."

192
 The fond parents were taken aback by this remark, but
the mother quickly recovered and declare d :
" She is better and I will not let you see her now, I
don't suppose you h ave even washed your hands. "
"I must confess, doctor," added the father, " I had not
expected such presumptious behaviour from such an old
and ex perienced surge on, nor such a presum ptious att empt
to e xplain it. Were i t not for the respect in which I hold
th e cross you wear round your neck, I would not restrain
myself as I do. Never since I have been Uyezd Marshal­
and th at is six ye ars now-have I been so insulted."
" Bless my soul ! " exclai med the d o ctor. "If there is
not a spark of humanity in your breas t , you should at least
be aware that I am the local inspector o f the Medical
Board, res ponsible for the stri ct observance of medical
laws, and you would have me ab andon a d ying wo man to
attend a girl with a headache or a fit o f hysterics or some­
thing else caused by a domestic scene? That would b e a
direct violation of the law ! And you t ake umb rage at it ! "
Karp Kondratich was, among other things , a great
coward ; he fe ared that an accusation of free thin king lay
behind the doctor's words ; feeling slightly dizzy, he
hastened to say :
"I was una ware of it, upon my honour I was unaware
of it. Law is law and I submit to it. Ah, here is Vava
herself. "
Dr. Krupov went over to her, lo oked into her eyes,
took her hand, shook his head, asked two or three ques­
tio ns, and wrote out a sham pres cription, knowing he
would not be allowe d to depart without leaving so me
visib le evidence of his professional services. As he went out
he s ai d : "If yo u do not wish to have furthe r trouble you
had better see that your d aughter enj o ys peace and quiet."
Frightened by her daughter's hysterics, Maria Ste pa­
novna s o ftened her manner, but when rumo urs o f Beltov
reached her, her heart p alpitated with such force that the
little dog who for s ix years had shared a place in her lap
with a handkerchief and a snuff-box , jumped up and began
sni ffing for whatever was hopping abo ut so. Bcltov ! There
was a husband for you ! Beltov ! The very man !
Naturally Beltov m ade a call on Karp Kondrati ch, and
on the fo llowing day Maria Stepanovna had her husband

13-171 193
return the courte sy ; a week late r Beltov was handed a
gre asy note s melling strongly of the sheepskin in which the
coachman had carried it. The note read :
" Marshal of the Nobility of Dub assov Uyezd an d his
wife cordially invite Vladimir Petrovich to do them the
honour of dining with them on We dnesday, at three of the
afternoo n."
Beltov read the invitation in dis may an d s aid to h imself
as he tossed it on the table : " Why in the worl� should they
invite me? It will cost them money and all of these peo p le
are frightfully stingy ; b esides it will be deadly boring. Well,
I suppose it cannot be helped, I shall have to go or they
will take offe nse. "
Rehearsals and the preparation of Vava were b egu n
two days before the dinner. Her mother tried different
fro cks on her from morning to night, she even had the idea
of making the girl appear in a red velvet gown, imaginmg i t
would suit her, but s h e Waf talked out of it by h e r cousin,
who was so friendly with the Govern or's wife that she
visited the mansion whenever she pleased, and who
assumed she must be a connoisseur of fashion since the
Governor's wife had prom ised to take her to Carlsb ad the
following summer. On the eve o f the dinner Maria Stepa­
novna h ad the almon d skins rem aining from the prep ara­
tio n of b lancmange brought to her, and as she demon­
strated to her d aughter how to rub her neck , shoulders an d
face with them, de claimed in a solemn tone that poorly
disguis ed her longing to break into invectiv e :
" Vava," she said, " i f Go d helps m e t o marry you t o
Beltov, all my prayers will h ave b een answered and I will
treasure you above all things ; be a go o d girl and do this for
me, you are not without heart, can you not do this fo r
your mother ? How can you not try to please a young and
single man? Are there so m any eligible girls here ? -two,
three-that is all ; those s o- called b eauties , the Chairman ' s
daughte rs , are h ideous i f you a s k me, and they say t hey
flirt with mere secretaries . And look at their family -their
father rose fro m among the clerks of the State Chamb er. If
you h ad a grain of ambition in you, you would m ak e a
laughing-sto ck of them. Those shameless girls keep riding
in an open carriage p ast Beltov's house, but let them
harb our no hopes ! Heavens above ! Here am I b aring my

1 94
heart to you an d y ou stand there deaf as a post! The
Lord has punish e d me by giving me a post for a
daughte r ! "
" Mama, Mama ! " murmured Vava in deep distress.
" What am I to d o ? I cannot behave di fferently ; consider it
yours elf: I do not know this man at all and he may not
show the slightest interest in me. I cannot throw myself
up on him."
" Don't be rude ! Who is asking you to throw yoursel f
upon him? I s that h o w y o u wish to ful fil your m other' s
reques t ? I 've neve r seen anything like it ! Do you t ake me
for an idiot, or am I drunk t hat I cannot choose a p roper
husband for you? My, what a princess s he is ! . ,
She stopp e d her tirade for fear o f causing the girl to
we ep, which would inflame her eyes.
At last the d ay of the ordeal arrived. At twelve o'clock
began t he procedure o f com bing, o iling and scenting Vava.
Maria Stepanovna herself laced her daughter' s corset,
tu rning her waist, small as it w as n aturally, into that of a
wasp ; at the same time, she p added o ut other spots with
cotto n-wool ; even so she was displeased with the result :
now the collar was too high, now Vava' s shoulders were
not even ; and all the while she was irritable, kept losing her
te mper, spurre d on the chamber-maid by giving her little
pokes, ran down to see how m atters were in the dining­
roo m , taught her daughter to make eyes and the butler to
lay the table. It was a difficult day for Maria Stepanovna,
but a m other' s love is equal to anything.
All this fuss must be right and pro per in family life ;
dreams are dre ams, but a daughter' s future must be seen
to ; the only p ity i s that these preparatory measures, these
be hin d-the-st age activities, deprive her of the i mmediate,
sp ontaneous, unpreme ditated joy o f an unexpected
mee ting, tney reveal secret s that ougnt to re main secret,
they too early de m onstrate that a successful marri age i s
the result n o t o f mutual attraction an d delight: b u t o f the
stacking of cards. Such preparations vulgarise a .relation­
ship that can be sacre d and sincere only when devoid o f
vulgarity. Stern moralists may further assert that such
measures are more effective in corrupting a young girl's
heart than what is commonly called "a fall". We shall not
go so far. Besides, say what you will, a d aughter h as to be

IJ* 1 95
married o ff; that is the only p urp ose of a daugh te r's being
born , as any moralist will, I b elieve, ad mit.
At three o ' clock Vava in all her glory was si tting in the
drawing-room where within the past hal f hour a few guests
had gathered and were making i nroads into the caviar and
smoked fish on the tray in front o f the sofa, when a fo ot­
man came in and handed an envelope to Karp Kondratich.
Karp Kondratich took his spectacles out of his pocket,
smeared the glasses with a soiled handkerchie f and, j u aging
by the time it took him to peruse two short lines, read the
note contained in the envelope syllable by syllable, after
which he announced in a voice far fro m tranquil :
" Maria, Vladim ir Petrovich s ends his apologies , he i s
unwell, has caught a cold that makes it quite i mpos sible
for him to come. Er . . . a . . . you had be tter tell his man we
are sorry. "
Maria Stepanovna' s face underwent a sudden change
and she threw a glance at her daughter that seemed to
accuse her of having given Beltov his cold. Vava was trium­
phant. Never b e fore had Maria Stepan ovna lookt:d so
foolish ; indeed she looked so foolish that one could n o t
help feeling sorry for her. S h e hated Beltov with all her
heart and all her mind. " This is positively an affront, " she
muttered to herself.
" Dinner is served ," announced the footman.
The Gubernia Marshal took Maria Stepanovna into the
dining-room.
Two wee ks after this unfortunate event , Maria Stepa­
novna was having tea. When alone or with a few close
friends she e nj oyed making the most o f this ceremony ,
drawing it out, sipping the tea from a saucer and throu gh a
lump o f sugar held b etween her teeth ; this method was the
more e nj o yable in .that it effected a considerable economy
in sugar. In fro nt o f her s at a tall thin old woman in a cap
and with a head tremor that kep t the ruffles of her cap in
constant motio n ; this wo man was knitting a woolen scarf
with two enormous needles ; she watched her work through
thick spectacles with a frame ( o f s o lid silver, by the way)
so heavy it would have been kinder to m ount a cannon
upon it than to place it on a hum an nose. A dark dressing­
gown, much the worse for wear, and an enormous reticule
with other needles sticking out of it showed that this

1 96
wo man was a close friend, as well as that she was a woman
of small mean s ; but this latter characteristic was more
definitely indicated by the tone in which Maria Step anov­
na ad dressed her. The n am e of this old woman was Anna
Y akimovna. S he was of noble birth and had b een a wid ow
since her youth. Her estate co mprised altogether four
peasants, represe nting one-fourteenth of an inheritance
receive d by rich relatives, who , appreciating her si tuation
as a needy widow, l avishly sliced o ff fo r her and her four
p easants a piece of b og rich in grouse and partridge but not
quite fit to be used as ploughland. Try as she might, Anna
Yakimovna was unable to procure a decent living from her
estate. Nor did her husband leave her anything to speak
of-only a son, her social position as a l ieute nant-colonel's
widow, and a collectio n of prescriptions for curing horses
o f c olic , hoo f-and- mouth disease and other ills, each p res­
criptio n accompanied by elaborate testimonials to its
efficacy. At the age of ninetee n her son was sent to j om a
certain regiment but was soon sent bac k to his parental
home for drunkenness and debauchery. He had been living
ever since in a wing o f Anna Y aki movna's house , drinking
home-brew flavoured with lem on-rind an d getting i n to
fights with the serfs or his acquaintan ces. His mother
feared him like the p lague, hid h er m oney and valuables
from him, an d swore to him she did not have a farthing,
especially after he s mashed the lid of a co ffer with a
hatchet and ex tracted seventy-two rubles and a turquoise
ring she had treasured for fifty-four years in memory of a
true friend of her deceased husb and. In ad dition to the
fo ur se rfs an d the prescrip tions, Anna Y akimovna had
one old chamber-maid, three young ones, and two fo ot­
men. She did not supply t he young ones with clothes, yet,
strangely enough , they were always well dressed. Anna
Y akimovna was pleased to observe that they were able to
clothe the mselves with money e arned on the side even
though she kept them occupied from morning to night,
and she prudentl y refrained from co mmenting on any
i mpropriety in their conduct which happened to come to
her notice. The fo otmen, t wo ugly old men who lived on
wine, took half o f the chamber-maids' extra earnings and in
additio n they m ade smelly boots o ut of goat-skin fo r half
the to wn. It goes without saying that the old lady's son,

197
Yakim Ossipovich also took advantage o f human frailty by
demanding his share of the Ill-earned gains.
Well, then, we left the esteemed head of this patriar·
chal phalanstery finishing a cup of tea in Maria Stepa­
novna's drawing-room. She had repeated for the hundredth
time the story of how a Georgian prince , who died a ge­
neral, had sued for her hand, of how in 1 8 09 she had
visited relatives in St. Petersburg at whose home the
highest society of the capital gathered every evening and
with whom she would have made her permanent home but
for the misfortune that she could not bear the taste and
her stomach could not bear the quality of St. Petersburg
water. When she had finished her aristocratic remini­
scences and had noisily placed her empty cup upside­
down on its saucer and put the tiniest remnant of her lump
of sugar on top of the cup to indicate (disingenuously)
that she would have no more tea, she began :
" Ah , my dear Maria Stepanovna, if only I could live to
see your Varvara Karpovna settled in life! -settled as well
as you are settled, Maria Stepanovna-what else could be
desired? Your family is a joy to behold ; such a rich home,
and such general respect ! Is it not true that only one thing
is needed to complete your contentment? "
"Why have you overturned your cup? Do have some
more."
"I believe I have had enough. It is my custom to drink
three cupfuls and I have already had four; thank you very
much, your tea is excellent."
"I always say no expense is too great to ensure the
pleasure of a good cup of tea. Here, do have another. "
Anna Yakimovna had a fifth.
" Everything is in God's hands, Anna Yakimovna, and
then Vava is so young, why s hould she get marri ed yet?
And to tell the truth, the young men these days ... they are
as likely as not to ruin a girl ; and when I think of having to
part with her ... I could not survive it, upon my word I
could not ! "
" Oh, come, my dear ! Who has not married off a
daughter? A daughter is not goods that is to be held too
long, it may become shop-worn. No indeed, if the Holy
Virgin grants her blessing it would be very desirable to
make an advantageous match. There is that son o f Sophia

198
Alexeyevna who has just come bac k ; he is a distant relative
of ours, but wh o traces kinship these days, especially if the
kin are poor like us ? He must have great means-two thou­
sand serfs and an estate in excellent condition. "
" Ah , but what sort o f person is h e ? You think o nly of
money, but wealth can be more o f a burden th an a
pleasure. Cares and anxieties. It seems good when viewed
fro m a d istance-one hand dipped in honey, the o ther in
treacle-but seen up close ? It only saps one's strength. I
know Sophia Alexeyevna's son-he tried to make friends
with Karp Kondratich; naturally we received him decently
-were we to try to reform him? But one look at his face
was enough to see what a pro fligate he is. An d his
manners ! He behaves in a nobleman's house as if he were
in a pub ! Have you seen him ? "
" On ly fro m a di stance , in the s treet. He o ften rides
past my house, and walks past to o . "
"Why, pray, should h e p as s your house ? "
"I d o not know, my dear. I t is not for me, old and sick
as I am" ( interrupted b y a deep sigh ) "to interest myself in
other peo ple' s business, I have eno ugh troubles o f my own.
I confess to you as to my Maker : my son has been on the
rampage again, he will drive me to the grave," and she
began to weep.
"Why should you not seek the aid of our church
elder? He knows how to cure men o f drin king. He takes
plain b eer, says a charm over it, gives it to the pati ent to
sip , swallows the res t himself, and that' s all soon the devils
of drink begin their hellish capers and after that-gone for
goo d . "
" He must ask a high fee , an d you know m y means. "
" No indeed , he treated our coo k and we only gave him
fiv e rubles . "
"Did it help ? "
" I t d id. It helped , but then he begari taking a drop now
and then and Karp Kondratich gave him a dose of quite
another sort o f medicine ! ' S o you do not appreciate your
mas ter's generosity? ' he says. 'I paid five rubles to cure
you and you re fuse to be cured, you rascal ? ' and he let
him have it-you know, in the Russian way. He has not
to uche d the b ottle since. I will send the church elder to
you. But i f I were you I would not have the p atience to

1 99
re m ain in ignorance, I would surely find out where that
young man goes, passing your house so o fte n."
" I n deed I did as k my Vassilissa-shc is such a bouncing
creature ! I asked her fo r want o f anything better to do,
where do you suppose that young man goes when he
passes our house ? The very next day she told me. ' You
asked me yesterday where that Beltov goes ? -it ' s to the
doctor he go es, to the old man, then the two of them go to
sec the schoolmaster who used to be the Negro vs' tutor. " '
" He goes with Krupov to see the N egrovs' tutor? "
repeated Maria Stepanovna, scarcely able to hide a p leasur­
able agitation which she herself could not have explained.
" Yes, ma'am, now he teaches in th e Gymnasiu m."
" So that ' s where he goes ! From the v ery firs t I could
see he was a dissolute creature , why should this news
surprise me? From very childhood his tuto r initiated him
into the Mason' s Order, so what i s to be exp ected of him?
When he was still but a boy he lived in the French capital
with no one to keep an eye on him, an d the very naP-J.e o f
that capital tells you what sort o f morality reigns there !
So it is the Negrovs' adopted daughter he is after ! A fine
thing ! What an age we are living in ! "
"It is a great pity, Maria Stepanovna-a great p ity for
the poor husband. They say he is a respectable m an . As for
her-well, you know who her mother w as. One thing is
certai n : blood will out ! "
" Dr. Krupov is playing a fine role to o , I mu st say ! A
very fine role indeed ! Has he no fear o f Go d, the old
sinner? But he' s a Mason too, if you ask me. Birds of a
feather ! I wonder what he ge ts paid for it? And for
wha t ? For ruining a young woman' s life ! What does that
old mis er want with so much money, tell me that , Anna
Yakimovna? He is as lonely as a hermit, no kith or kin in
all the world , yet he would not give a kopek to a beggar ;
greedy, that' s what he is, a very Ju das Iscariot, and what i s
t o become o f his hoardings ? He will die like a dog and all
his money will go to the treasury."
The conversatio n continued in this vein for another
quarter o f an hour, at the end of which Anna Yakimovna,
who had drunk another three cups of te a in the excitement
of the new topic, made preparatio ns to go home : she to o k
o ff her spectacles, p u t them i n their case an d sent th e m aid

2QO
into the hall to find out i f Maksutka had come fo r her. On
being told he had , she ro se to leave. At no other tim e had
Maria Stepanovna' s hospital ity been so warm ; she even saw
her guest into the hall, where Maksutka, a co mical-loo king
old man about s ix ty-unshaved, unwash ed, smelling of
cheap wine, wearing a top-coat of coarse stuff with a black
collar- s tood hold ing her cloak in one hand while he
hastily thrust a birch-bark snuff-b o x back into his po cket
with the other. Maksutka was clearly out of temper ; he
had just b e en ab out to jump two of his p artner' s checkers
in one move and had just stretched out a d irty hand to do
so when his lady open ed the door. " The o ld buzzard ," he
muttered as he put th e cloak on the widow' s thin
should ers.
,., I cannot teach this old fool of mine how to hand a
lady her cloak," ob served Anna Yakimovna.
" Time to put us all out of the house and bring in some
learned ones," muttered Maksutka.
" You s ee what a widow' s lot is, ma' am ; you see w hat I
must put up with fro m the l owest o f the low. What else
can I d o ? A wo man ' s fate. If my d ear husband was alive
you can imagine how I would deal with such a villain.
Then he would d ance to another- tu ne ! Min e is a bitter
fate. May God spare you a similar one ! "
This sp eech l eft Maksutka unm oved. As he led his lady
down the steps he turned round to wink at the servants
gathered to see them off and to point d erisively at his
mistress , a gesture which gave them prolonged and genuine
satisfaction.
I leave it to the read er to imagine with what joy and
satisfaction th e good Maria Stepanovna s natched at this
ch oice bit of news and con templated the opportumty of
sp reading goss ip not only about B eltov but ab out Dr.
Krupov as well. In doing so it would be necessary to ru n
do\Vll the reputation o f a certain young woman and that
was a p ity, but it could not be help ed . There are weighty
matters d emanding the sacrifice of individuals for the sake
of mighty p lans.
Ch apter I V

At the same time that the re sp ected widow, Anna

Yaki movna, was taking tea with the no less respected
Maria Stepanovna and discussing Beltov' s affairs with the
tender solicitude peculiar to the feminine he art , B eltov
himself was sitting in his hotel room oppress e d by the
blackest and b leakest thoughts. Had he p ossessed the gi ft
o f clairvoyance he coul d have amused himself by watching
the two wo men sep arated from him by the d istance o f
only one big dirty street and one little dirty lane , an d
by listening t o what one o f them was saying t o the oth er,
who listened with anything but cold indifference. But
Beltov did not possess the gift of clairvoyan ce. If his
Russian nature had not been spoiled by western manners ,
he might at least have begun to hiccough, and his hie­
coughing would have indicated that so mebo dy, so me­
where, was talking about him. But in these scientific d ays
hiccoughing has lost its pro phetic significance and has
become nothing but a gastric phenomenon.
Beltov's low spirits had , o f course, nothing to d o with
the conversation that took place over the six th cup of tea;
he had go t up late that morning with a heavy head ; on the
previous night he had read till l ate , but not attentively ,
rather in a state o f drowse. More and more o ften o f late he
had been fe eling not himself, an indefinable sensation
accompanied b y depression. He could not concentrate his
thoughts and was haunte d b y the sense of something
missing. At ab out one o 'clock he smoked a cigar, d rank a cup
of co ffee, and considered for long how he should begin the
day : by reading or by taking a walk ; he chose the latt er
and had already tossed o ff his house slippers when he re­
membered he had · vowed to devote every morning to the
reading o f the latest publications on political econo my ;
and so he put on his house s lippers again, ligh ted another
cigar and settled down to a s tudy of p olitical e co nomy ;
unfortunately a copy o f Byro n lay next to the b ox con­
taining his cigars ; he threw himse l f o n the so fa and read
Don juan until five o ' clock in the evening. He was greatly
surprised to discover how late it was when he fini shed the
poem an d, sending for his valet, told him to l ay o ut his

202
The Toll-gate. Painting in oils by an u nknown English artist in the
1 8 3 0s. On 1 9 January , 1 8 4 7 Herzen and his family went abroad.

When Herzen left for Europe, his friends accompanied him as far as this
p ost station called "Black Mud ". Phot ograph, 1 9 3 0 .
Paris. June Days of 1 848. Nineteenth-century engraving.
Herzen was in Paris at this time.
Alexander Herzen. Lithograph by N oel, 1 84 7 , Paris.
Natalia Herzen with her daughter Olga.
Daguerreotype, 1 8 5 2 .
clothes as quickly as p ossible ; his surprise and his haste
were , however , purely mechanical, for he h ad no appoint­
ment fo r that evening and it m ade no difference to him
whether the clock indicated six i n the morning or twelve at
night. When he had dre ssed w ith the nicety we become
used to while living abroad and soon lose a taste for after
returning to Russian provincial life , he picked up a
pamphlet on Adam Smith and, with the fi rm intention of
returning to his serious studies, once more s tretched o ut
on the sofa he had so recently qmtted. His vale t pulled out
a s m all tab le and began laying it. Fate had b e en kinder to
th e valet than to his master : Grigori was p erturbed by no
discontent as he laid the tab le , placed upon it a carafe of
water and a bottle of Burgundy, put a decanter of absinthe
and some cheese on a side table, calmly ob served his work
and, convinced that all was perfect, went fo r the soup and
returned a minute later-not with the soup but with a
letter.
" Who is it fro m ? , asked Beltov without lifting his
eyes fro m the Adam Smith pamphlet.
" From foreign p arts : not our stamp. And here' s a slip
saying a p ackage has come too . ,
" Give th em to me," said Beltov, putting down the
pamphlet. Who could it be fro m ? he asked himself. I can't
i magine. From Geneva? Could it be . . . ? No, hardly.
It would h ave been quicker to te ar open the envelope
and look at the signature at the bottom of the fourth p age
instead of wasting ti me guessing. Much quicker. Why is it
that p eople are always inclined to guess who letters are
fro m ? That is a m ystery of human be haviour, but undoub ­
tedly i t springs fro m human vanity, the desire t o test one ' s
powers of pene tration and deduction.
In the end Beltov opened the envelope and began to
read the letter ; with every line his face grew p aler and te ars
gathered in his eyes.
The le tter was fro m m' sieur Joseph's nephew , in­
forming B eltov o f the old man ' s death. The life o f this
excellent man had e nded as simply and peacefully as it h ad
passed. For many years he had been headmaster of a rural
school not far from Geneva. For two days he had been
unwell, on the third he had felt better and had m ade his
way with difficulty to the class-roo m ; there he had fainted,

207
been brought ho m e and subj ected to a b loo d-letting ; when
he came to he said farewell to the children who , frightened
and distressed, s tood silently round h is b ed ; he told them
to come and play on his grav e ; his last request was to see
Walae rnar1s p icture, which he gazed at lovingly fo r so m e
time before observing t o h i s nephew : "What a m an h e
might have b e co m e ! B u t I fear his o l d uncl e was right.
Send this picture to Wald emar after. . . . His address is in my
port folio-the old one with Washington's p icture on it.
Po or Waldemar . . . poor Waldemar . . . . "
" At this point," wro te the nep hew, "hi s mind b egan to
wander and his face assumed the p en sive look that comes
in life' s last moment ; he as ked to be l ifted up and his clear
eyes showed that he wanted to s ay something els e to the
children, but his to ngue did not obey him. He smiled at
them, then his white head dropped upon his chest. We
buried him in our country churchyard b etween our o rga­
nist and choir- master. "
When Beltov finished reading the l etter h e p u t i t o n the
table, wiped his eyes, took a turn ab out the roo m , w ent to
the window, picked up the letter again and read it through.
" An amazing man ! Amazin g ! " he murmured. " The
happiest of m en ; he knew how to b e content, to l abour, to
be useful wherever he fou nd him sel f. Now I have no o ne in
all the world b ut my mother-no one at all. I u sed to hear
fro m him from time to time and that cheered m e ; I was
happy just to k now that he existed. And now he is gone.
Ho w cruel li fe is ! I fear if we w ere told what awaited u s ,
few would agree t o go o n living. "
" The so up is getting cold, Vladimir Petrovich," s aid his
valet, seeing with conc ern that the lett er had brought
unpleasant tidings.
" Grigori , " said B eltov, " you remember the tuto r w ho
lived with us? "
" The Swiss ? Indeed I do, sir."
" He has died ," said Beltov, turning away to hide his
emotion.
" May his soul rest in p eace ," said Grigori. " He was a
kind man, and very go od to the likes o f u s ; I was t al king
about you to Maxim Fyodorovich the other day, to your
mother's pantryman, that is. Maxim Fyodorovich can ' t get
over you ; thanks to you I've s een all kinds of p eople and

208
their way of life, but him-he's lived all his life in our
gubernia and so he can't get over his wonder. 'True,' he
says, 'he was born with a good heart, his mother's heart.
But he took something from the teacher, too ; many's the
times,' says he, 'when the village boys would bow to little
Vladimir Petrovich ' -to you, that is-' the Swiss would
have little Vladimir Petrovich take off his cap to them
because they are in the image o f Christ too." '
Beltov, without comment, began gloomily sipping his
soup.
The news of Joseph's death naturally led him to think
of his childhood and youth, and this made him review his
entire life. He recalled Joseph's precepts and how avidly he
had listened to them and how firmly had believed in them.
How different life had turned out to be from Joseph's
conception of it, and-this was the odd thing! - all that
Joseph had said was beautiful and true, true inside and
out, yet utterly false for Beltov. He compared himself now
to what he had been then; the two people had nothing in
common but the threads of remembrance binding them
together. Then he had been full of faith, had embraced the
religion of self-abnegation, had been p repared to undertake
the most difficult exploits, to labour without compensa­
tion; now under the influence of real circumstances he was
left without hope or faith, concerned only with finding
so me means of occupying his time.
When Grigori brought the package fro m the post­
office, Beltov hastily uncut the string and impatiently
drew a picture out of the wrapping. His face underwent a
change when he contemplated features that had once been
his own ; he almost turned away from them. The portrait
clearly illustrated the thoughts that had so recently filled
his mind. How fresh and bright was this young face ! His
shirt was open at the throat, the collar turn.e d back; an
indescribable expression o f thoughtfulness hovered about
the eyes and mouth, that vague thoughtfulness that
presages the internal thinking o f later years ; anyo!le who
looked at this miniature would be inclined to say, as
Joseph had said again and again : "Great things will come
of this boy ! " And what had come of him? An idle tourist
who clung) as to a last straw, to the idea o f being elected
an officer at the nobility elections. "Then," thought

14-171
209
Beltov as he looked reproachfu lly at the portrait, " I was
fourteen years old ; now I am over thirty, and what does
the future present ? Nothing but a vast grey emp tiness , a
dull, monoto nous continuation o f the prese n t ; it is too late
to begin a new life and i mpossible to go on with the old .
How many beginnings have I made ! How m any new
people have I met ! And all has ended in idleness and
loneliness . "
His train of bitter thoughts was in terrupted b y the
arrival of Dr. Krupov. He carried them over into th eir c on ­
versation.
" How are you fe eling, Vladimir Pe trovich? "
" Ah, how do you d o, Semyon Ivanovich ; I am glad
you h ave come . I am so b ored, so miserab le , I can b ear i t
n o longer ! I really a m ill ; there is fever in my veins-no t a
high fever but one that keeps me in a c onst an t state of
strain ."
" You are leading the wrong sort of life," said th e d oc­
tor as he turned b ack the cuff of his friend's coat the
better to fee l his pulse. " Your pulse is not good. You are
living twice as fast as you ought t o, y ou show n o c oncern
for the wheels and the greasing of them. You c annot travel
far at this rate."
" I myself am aware that I am going to p ie ces m o rally
and physically . "
"Too e arly for that. The p resent generation is going at
too fast a p ace ; it is high time for y ou t o thin k of y our
health, to take me asures."
"What measure s ? "
" Quite a numb er of them. Go to b e d on tim e , get u p
earlier, read le ss, think less, w al k more , d rive me lancholy
thoughts out of your mind, drink less wine and st op drink­
ing strong co ffee altoge ther. "
" You evidently think all of this is e asy, e sp e ci ally to
drive away melancholy thoughts. Am I to d o these things
for long? "
" For life . "
" N o thank you ; dull and u ninteres ting, an d t o n o good
purpo se ."
"To no good purp o s e ? It seems to m e certain s acri­
fices are worth making so a s to p rolong one's life, so as t o
achieve a ripe old age ."

210
 " And why should I prol ong my life ? "
" Strange que stion. Why ? I can not say why ; simply to
liv e ; after all, it is b e tter to live than to die ; every animal is
imbued wi th love of l i fe . "
" E xcepting those who are n o t imbued with it,"
ob served Beltov with a b itter smile. " Byron w as right when
he said no dece nt man o ught to live m o re than thirty-five
years. And indeed why o ught he to? It m ust b e fearfully
boring to live longer. "
" You've taken such sophism s from those accurse d Ger­
man p h ilosophers. "
" I n which case allow me to d e fend the Gennans; since
I am a Ru � sian, li fe has taught me to think instead o f
teaching me to live. Once we h ave b roached this subject,
tell me honestly, seriously, w hat di fference it m ak e s
whether I live anoth er ten · or another fifty years ; who cares
a fig for my life except my m o ther, wh o has n ot too s tro ng
a hold on life h erself? Whe ther because o f some inherent
weakn ess or of some flaw in my character it is h ard to s ay ,
but the fact re mains that I am a u seless creature ; b eing
convin ced of this , I assume that I alone h ave the right to
dispose o f my life. I have not yet come to hate it to the
extent of sh oo ting mysel f, nor have I come to l ove it t o
the extent o f going o n diet, coddling myself, avoid in g
strong emo tions and tasty food for the s ake o f d ragging
out my e xis tence to a ripe old age . "
" You pre fer living a life o f chronic s uicide? " re to rted
Dr. Krup ov, now growing angry. "I understand y ou h ave
become sick of living in idleness; it m ust b e no e nd o f a
b ore to do no thing ; like all the rich, you h ave not the h abit
o f w o rking. If fate had given you a d e finite o ccupation and
had not given you White Fields, you w o uld have w orked
for your bread and b een o f use to others , as is the rule in
this world . "
" Bu t can you really b e lieve that h unger i s the only
s timulus to work , Semyon Ivanovich? The simple desire t o
expre ss on eself, to test one's c ap ab ilities, ought t o b e su ffi­
cie n t to make one work. On the contrary, I would n o t lift
a fin ger merely for the s ake o f feedin g myself. To w ork a
life time so as not to die o f hunger, and not t o die o f
hunger s o as t o work ? -what a clever and u se ful w ay o f
spending one's time ! "

14 * 21 1
 "Well, what h ave you accomplished, well-fed and e ager
to e xpres s yourself as you are ? " put i n the o ld m an , who
was thoroughly roused by this tim e .
"There 's t h e hi tch. T o b e sure i t w as n o t o f my own
free will that I cho se a life of idleness. I was not b orn a
scie ntist, nor was I b orn a mu sician ; all o th er p ro fessions,
it appears, were not born for me . "
" And y o u justify your life in this way ; the e arth i s t o o
s mall for you, no p lace on it for you. Th e fact i s y ou h ave
no will-power, no p e rsistence. Gu tta cavat- "
"Lapidem, " supplied B eltov. " It h ardly b e comes a m an
as sober- minde d as you are to sp eak about will-p ower. "
"Pre tty words, p retty words, " s aid the d octor, "but i t
seems t o me that a good workman i s n ever w ith out w ork. "
" Can you say th at the workers o f Lyons, dying o f
hunger, eager t o work but unable t o find it, are just
playing a grim game ? Ah, Semyon Ivanovich, do n o t b e so
quick in passing judgement and in prescribing moral t ran­
quillity and calomel. Th e former i s inaccessib le and the
latter is o f no help . No malady can b e worse than the
recognition of one 's uselessness. How can diet cure i t ?
Reme mb er Napoleon's reply to D r . Antommarchi : ' It i s
not cancer b u t Waterloo that is e ating me u p . ' Everyb ody
has their Waterloo. Co me, S emyon Ivanovich , let us go and
see the Krutziferskys. Once o r twice a v is it to th em h as
cure d me o f depre ssion ; it i s a n o strum b etter th an m o st. "
" And no t a word o f thanks o r appreciatio n t o m e ?
Who , pray, introduced you to them? "
" Bless my soul, I really did forget . Most htunbly do I
apologise to thee, Semyon Ivanovich , gre ate st o f the so ns
of Hippocrate s ! " laughed Beltov as he fille d h i� cigar c ase .
Let u s now ask, along with Maria Step anovna, what i t
was that drew Beltov t o the modest home o f t h e s ch o ol­
master? Was it that he found in him a frie nd, a kindred
spirit, or was h e really in love with his wife ? H e w ould
h ave found difficulty in answering this questio n, e ager as
he w as always to tell the truth. Many things attracted h im
to this ho me . The elections were over, with all th e din ners
and ball s attending them . Of c ourse B el t ov was e le cte d to
no o ffice and he stayed on in the t own only to w itness the
end of a case being heard in the Civil Co urt. Fan cy h ow
insufferable his b oredom would h av e been but for his

212
acquain tance wi th the Krutziferskys ! He found some th ing
new and delightful in their quiet, acquies cent w ay of life.
Hi's life had been devoted to general p roblems, to science
and theory, and it had been spent largely in foreign cities
wh ere it was difficult to gain admittance to people 's
homes, and in Petersb urg, where th ere was very little h ome
life. He had considered family bliss a myth, or something
asso ciated wi th the pe tty and th e vulgar. The Kru tziferskys
were neither. It was difficult to define th e character o f
Kru tzife rsky himself: h e was gentle and loving in the
highest degree, feminine and submissive, and so p ure and
simp le-hearted that i t was impossible not to love h im, even
though his pureness was that of inexperience, the inno­
cence of a child . It would be hard to find anyone less
familiar with practical life ; all of his knowledge h ad come
from books and was , there fore, untrue, romantic and rhe­
torical; he believed absolutely in the world as sung by
Zhukovsky, in ideals that soared high above the earth .
From the clois ters o f s tudent life, in the course o f w hich
he had had contact with the world of p assion and con flict
only from his seat in the top gallery of Moscow's Maly
Theatre, he entered real life quie tly on a dull autumn d ay .
He was met b y dire need and, finding everything strange
and dis tasteful, the young Candidate came more and more
to seek joy and consolation in the wo rld o f d ream s to
which he fle d from people and circums tan ces. It was need
that drove him into Negrov's home , and this con frontation
with reality made h im more contemp lative than ever. Shy
by nature, he never thought o f s truggling against circum­
stan ces, he retreated before them and asked only to be le ft
in peace ; but love came to h ir.l as i t comes to people o f h is
sort : not fierce, mad love, but love to the d eath and with
su ch complete surrender that not a particle o f himself
remained un given. Nervous excitement kept h im forever in
a state of melancholy ecstasy ; he was always on the verge
of tears; on quie t evenings he would s tand gazing up at the
sky and who can say what visions came to h im in the
somb re stillness? Often he pressed his wife's hand and
lo oked into her eyes with inexpressib le rap ture, but the
rapture was tinged with such d eep so rrow that Lub a
herself could not res train her tears. All his actions ex­
pre ssed the me ekness revealed in his face, the same

213
serenity , the same sincerity and the same timid thought­
fulness. Need one say how such a man w ould love his
wife ? His love grew constantly, especially s in ce h e had n o
outside intere sts t o dis tract him ; h e could n o t endure
spending two hours out o f s ight o f h is w ife's blue e ye s, he
was distressed if she le ft the house and did not return
exactly at the expected h our; in a word , the ro ots o f h is
life were planted in her alone. The w orld in which he
found himself contributed to this.
As was generally true in the old days, m ost provincial
school-masters were men who had b een coarsened and
made indolent by their environment and rude h abits,
which h ad killed in them every aspiration towards learning.
It is doub tful that Krutzifersky was born to make some
significant contribution to scholarship, to give himself up
wholely to its problems and make them his own life­
problems , but he was drawn to scholarly pursuits and they
were accessible to him in every way but one-material
means. There c ould be no thought o f his b uying b ooks for
himself; the Gymnasium acquired them for its lib rary but
they were not ones that could s timulate and supp ort a
young scholar's intere sts. Provincial life is disastrous for
those whose lives are not centred in immovable prope rty ,
and for those who do not want their bodies to b e come as
imm ovable as their p roperty . In this realm o f sp iritual
lethargy , devoid of all interest in ideas, who could resist
falling into a p rolonged if not a re freshing sleep? Hum an
beings require external stimuli, they need newspapers that
will bring them into contact with the outs ide world every
day, they need journals that record the direction of
modem thinking, they ne e d conversation, they n e e d theat­
re s; one can, of course, learn to do without all of these
things and come to believe they are not needed ; th en
dawns the day when they really are not neede d b ecause
the person himself is not needed . Krutzifersky was far
from being one of your strong, determined men capable o f
supplying themselves with whatever th ey find lackmg. The
absence in those around him o f all human inte re s ts h ad a
negative rather than a p ositive e ffect upon him , and one
reason for this was that he found himself planted among
these people at the best time of his life : just after his
marriage . Gradually he grew used to his ass ociates and in

214
time all that he had left were his dreams, a few enlightened
ideas already obsolete, his love o f learning, and certain
theoretical problems that o thers had solved long before. In
love he sought the answer to his soul's more acute
yearnings, and found complete satisfaction in his wife's
strong character. The arguments he had been carrying on
with Krupov for four years, grew stagnant; every day they
said the same things over and over. Krutzifersky spoke in
defence of the spiritual life, Krupov rudely and indignantly
lashed out at him with a surgeon's materialism.
Life was trickling along in this way when its quiet flow
was suddenly interrupted by the advent o f quite a dif­
ferent personality, an energetic personality with an ency­
clopedic mind open to all contemporary problems and
capable o f courageous and daring thinking. Krutzifersky
inevitably succumbed to so forceful a personality. Beltov,
on the oth er hand, proved not to be immune to the in­
fluence o f Krutzifersky's wife. It is well-nigh impossible
for a strong man with no absorbing occupation to resist
the influence of a vigorous woman; a man must be ex­
tremely dull, extremely egotistical, or entirely devoid o f
character to remain uninfluenced by a moral force pre­
sented in the form of a channing young woman. Beltov,
moreover, highly emotional as he was and unused to
curbing his infatuations, was an easy catch for coquettes,
indeed for any pretty face. How many times had he fallen
head over heels in love ! -with a prima-donna, a b allet
dancer, an enigmatic beauty taking the waters at a spa, a
red-cheeked flaxen-haired Gretchen given to dreaming and
ready to love as Schiller's heroines loved, vowing, to the
trilling of nightingales to be true to him in this world and
the next, with a p assionate French girl who made no bones
abou t indulging her desire. Bu t never before had he met
with an influence such as Krutzifersky's wife
exerted.
At the beginning of their acquaintance Beltov thought
o f flirting with Lub a. He had acquired vast experience in
this field, no Jonger was he to be intimidated by aristo­
cratic manners or false modesty; the easy triumphs he had
won over willing beauties made him sure o f himself; with
adroit and bold phrases he felt eminently capable o f
deadening the conscience o f a provincial lass. But a t the

215
very outset Beltov's powers o f percep tion told him to
abandon all idea of a cheap flirtation here ; h is net was too
flimsy for catching such game. The woman he discove re d
i n this remote spo t was s o s imple in man ner, so artless, and
at the same time so strong and intelligen t that Beltov lost
his appetite fo r a flirtati on. It was hard to assault her
because she put up no defence, d id not so much as assume
an en garde stance. An en tirely different relationship , a
mo re humane one, soon d rew them together. Lub a unde r­
stood his melancholy and she also recognised the le aven
working in his blood and causing him p ain . She h ad an
in finitely better and b roade r knowledge of these things
than, say, Dr. Krupov, and this b ein g so , she could n o t
observe him without p i ty and sympathy, and the m o re she
observed him the be tter she understood him, d iscove ring
ever new asp ects of this man, who was d o ome d to cru sh
wi thin himself ex traordinary force o f character and ex tra­
ordin ary breadth of in tellect. Bel tov instantly recogni se d
the difference b etween Dr. Krupov's conscientious-mora­
li sin g attitude towards him, Krutzifersky's sentim en tal­
romantic symp athy, and the p e rfect delicacy Lub a dis­
played. Many times when the four of them were gathe re d
together Beltov voiced h i s innermost convictions, b u t h is
old habit of hidin g them led h im to veil them in irony o r
t o drop them o ff-handedly ; his listeners rarely resp onded
to them, but when he turned longing eyes to Lub a he saw
that he was understood and a faint smile of gratification
played ove r his lip s. Distressing as i t i s to admi t the com­
parison , it must be said that b e fo re they were aware o f
what was happening these two found themselves in the
relationship that had existed between Lu ba and Krutzi­
fe rs ky in Negrov's hom e , when no e xchange o f word s w as
neces sary to tell the m that the y unde rstood e ach oth er.
Su ch affinity is not to be cultivated or sup presse d ; it
merely constitute s the fact of kinship b e tween two p eople
wherever and whenever they meet. Once having recognised
this kinship , each o f them will always sacrifice a lesser
relationship for this higher one if circumstances demand
such a sacrifice.
"Can you guess who this is? " s aid Beltov as h e handed
his mi niature to Lub a.
"Oh, it's you ! " she cried , the b lood rush ing to her

216
chee ks. "Your eyes . . . your forehead . . . . What a charming
child you were ! How b old and care fre e ! "
"It t o ok a gre at deal o f courage for me to expose
myself by bringing you this picture painted more than
fifteen years ago, but I desperately wanted you to se e me
such as I was in my budding days . . . .
I marvel that you recognise me; not a trace of that boy is left . "
" It i s quite e asy t o recognise y o u , " replied Lub a
with out taking her eyes o ff o f the p i cture. "How i s i t y ou
did n ot show it to us b e fo re ? "
"I j ust re ceived it ; a month or so ago the go od j oseph
die d and his nephew sent me this miniature and a letter. "
" Poor J oseph ! I count him one o f my close friends
from what you have told me about him . "
" He died a t his humb le tasks, and you who never m e t
him, and the many children he taught , and m y mother and
I remember him with love and grieve over the loss of him .
His death is a blow to many. In that respect I am luckie r
than h e was : after m y moth er's death, my de ath will cause
nobody a mo ment 's grie f for I mean nothing to anybody
but her. "
B eltov spoke sincerely, yet there was artfulness i n the
words for he hoped to evoke a warm protestation from
Luba.
" You do not mean what you say, " she replied, lo oking
at him steadily. He dropped his eyes .
" A fter I am dead I don't care a straw who laughs and
. who c ries, " asserted Dr. Krup ov.
"I think differently," said Krutzifersky. "I can under­
stand how dreadful it must be to die knowing there is no
one who loves you at your bedside nor anywhere in th e
whole wide world , th at an unknown h and will indiffere nt­
ly toss a spadeful o f earth into your open grave, then
calmly throw down the spade , pick up his hat and go
home. When I die , Lub a, come o ften to my grave , my
heart will be light-"
"Very ligh t , that is certainly true, " said the doctor
with exasp eration. "To o light to show on the apothecary's
scales. H
" As if you had no friends but Joseph ! " said Luba t o
Beltov. " H o w can that b e ? "
" I had many , and the most warm and devoted frie nds.

217
But I had many things ; I had a face like th at, for inst ance,
c;I
and nothing is le ft o f it. F riends are not e ssenti� l ; frien ­
ship is but a p leasan t ailment of youth ; woe to h tm who Is
not self-sufficie nt. "
" And yet J oseph, according to y our w ord s, rem ain ed
your close frie nd to the end of his life . "
" Only because w e lived at a great distance from e ach
o ther; our frie ndship survived because w e saw each oth e r
once i n fifteen years. And at th at chance meeting I
spanned the gulf that had opened b e tween u s by recalling
events of the p ast. "
" So you saw him again after he went b ack to Switz er-
land ? "
" Only once. "
"Where ? "
" In the town where he died."
"When was th at? "
" About a year ago. "
" Instead o f saying such grues ome things , tell u s about
your last encounter with him . "
"With pleasure ; I want to think ab out h im , i t gives m e
joy to talk ab out him . This i s h ow it w as .
" A t the beginning o f l a s t year I w en t to Geneva from
southern France. Why ? -it is hard to say. I did n ot w an t
to go back t o Paris because I never d id any thing there and
I always suffered from envy : all the p eople ab out me w ere
engaged-engaged in b usines s, engaged in n o nsense-and all
I did was sit in cafes and read th e p aper o r wander about as
a well-disposed but alien onloo ker. I h ad never v is ited
Geneva ; it was a quie t city, away from the noisy w orld,
and so I chose it as my w inter re sidence ; my intenti o n w as
to study political e conomy and in my leisure t im e d ecide
where to go and wh at to do th e following summ er. It goes
with o ut saying th at· a day o r so after my arrival I enquired
of the ho tel people, o f b ankers and o th ers, if th e y k new or
had heard anything ab out m'sieur J o s eph. No one had
exceptin g an old watch-maker who said J oseph h ad gone
to school with him and h ad th en l e ft for Petersb urg, after
which he had h eard nothing more of h im .
"Disappointe d , I s topped enquiring after h im . I h ad n o
heart for my s tudies, i t was e arly spring, t h e weather was
clear and cool, my unattached life had develope d the

218
wanderlust in me, and I decided to make excursions on
foot in the environs o f Geneva. I easily fall under the spell
of the open road: it invigorates me, especially when
walking or riding horseback. In a carriage the noise o f the
wheels is distracting and the presence of the coachman
violates one's solitude , but when one is alone, on
horseback or with a walking-stick in hand, one goes on and
on , the road winds like a ribbon before y our eyes,
appearing and disappearing, and there is nobody about,
only the trees, a stream, the birds flying up and settling
down-oh, that is bliss ! Well, one day I was walking along
like this a few miles outside of Geneva-had been walking
for some time all alone-when suddenly some twenty
peasants came out o f a side road; they were talking and
gesturing animatedly ; they passed close by me and p aid me
so little attention that I easily overheard their conver­
sation; it was about canton elections; the peasants were
divided in to two parties and they were to vote on the
following day ; so engrossed and excited were they that
they gestured wildly and threw their caps into the air. The
voters moved o ff and I sat down under a tree, listening for
a while to the shreds of demagogical speeches and conser­
vative opinions that reached my ears. I am always tom by
jealousy when I see people completely absorbed in some
cause, and so I was in a bad humour when another traveller
appeared o n the road, a well-built youth in a thick blouse
and a grey wide-b rimmed hat, with a ki t slung over his
shoulder and a pipe in his mouth . He stopped in the shade
o f the same tree; as he sat down he touched the brim o f his
hat with a finger; when I returned the salute he took o ff
his hat and wiped the sweat o ff his face and his beautiful
brown hair. I smi led to see the boy's caution: he had n ot
taken his hat off at first for fear I w ould think he was
taking it o ff to me. After sitting there a bit, he turned to
me and asked:
'"Where is your road taking you? '
"'That is more difficult for me to say than you think; I
am just "following my nose. '
"'You are a foreigner, are you not? '
"'I am a Russian.'
"'Oh, from so far away ! I suppose it is very cold in
your country now? '

219
 " O f course the firs t thing a foreigner thin k s o f when
Russia is mention ed is th e cold and the m ad careering o f
post chaises, although i t i s high tim e th ey k new th at the
Russian win ters are not as cold as they are rep ute d to b e
nor i s th e driving a s reckle ss.
" ' Yes, it is winter in Petersburg now, ' I said.
" ' How do you like our c limate ? ' ask ed th e Swiss
proudly .
' " I like it,' I rep lied. ' Are y ou from these p arts ? '
" ' Ye s, I was born not far from here and am now on my
way from Geneva to attend th e local e lection. I d o n ot y e t
have the right to vote, but I have an oth er means o f v oicing
my opinion which will, p e rh aps, d raw listeners. If y o u have
nothing better to do, come with m e ; my mo th er's h ouse
and her cheese and wine are at your disposal; tomorrow
you will see how our side will d e fe at the o ld men. '
" ' Oh o ! So you are a radical ! ' I said to myself as I
once more took in my c omp anion.
' " I will go with you,' I said , giving him my hand. ' I
certainly have no thing b e tter t o d o . '
" ' Perhaps you will enj oy ob serving our e lectio n s ; y ou
do not have e lections in y our c ountry, d o y ou? '
' " Who could have told you that ? ' I replied. ' You must
have had a very bad teacher o f geograp hy in scho ol; on t h e
contrary , w e have l o t s o f e lections: t h e n obility h av e th eir
own , th e merch ants have their own , the craftsmen and
town sme n have their own . Even in landowners' villages the
elder is e lecte d . '
" The youth b lushed.
" ' It has been a long time since I s tudie d geograp hy , ' he
said , 'and I did not study it for long. Our t eacher, i f y ou
will forgive me for contradicting you, was an e x cellent
one ; he himself lived in Russia and if y ou wish I will
introduce you to . him ; he is a thinker who could have
achieved great things, but he p re ferred b eing o ur teacher. '
" ' Thank you,' I said , fee ling not the least d esire to
mee t this local pedant.
" ' He really did live in your coun try. '
" ' Where ? '
" ' In Petersb urg and Mos cow.'
' " What is his n ame ? '
' " We call him pere Joseph. '

220
 '"Pere J oseph ! ' I ex claime d , hardly b el ie ving my e ars.
" ' Y � s, what is so surprising about that? ' re turn ed my
comp amon.
"A few further questions convinced m e that pere
J o seph was none other than my J o seph. We quickened o ur
steps. The young man was delighted t o h ave given me such
a pleasant surprise, and even more delighted by the antici­
p ation of giving it to p ere Jo seph, whom he deeply loved
and revered . I enquired as to J os eph's present w ay of life
and from his answers concluded that he was still the
simple, noble, rapturo us, youthful-minded man I had
kn own ; from what I was told I realised that I had over­
taken J os eph in years, that I was n ow older than he was.
Five years earlier he had taken upon himself the resp onsi­
b ilitie s of headmaster of the school; he did three tim e s as
much work as his o ffice demanded of him , he had a small
lib rary which was at the disp osal of everyone in the com­
munity , and a garden in which h e and the children w orked
in their leisure time. When we s topped in front o f his n eat
house, which was b right with sunlight reflected by the
mountainside b ehind the house, I sent my companion
ahead so as not to s hock the old m an by so unexpected an
appe arance ; I t o ld him just to say a certain Russian wish ed
to speak to him. Pere J osep h was resting o n a b ench in t he
garden ; he s tarted at the word ' Russian' and hurried
forward to meet me. I rushed into his arms. The first thing
that s truck me was the grievous fo rce o f destruction e xer­
cised by time ; le ss than t en years h ad passed since I l ast
saw him, b ut what changes had b een wrought in him ! He
had lost mo st of his hair, his cheeks w ere sunken, h is walk
was unsteady, his b ack was b ent-only his eyes were as
young as ever. I c annot describe the j o y with which he m e t
me , h e laughed and cried and immediately asked m e c o unt­
less questions; he enquired after my Newfo undland d o g
and re called t h e p rank s o f my childh o od ; h e l e d m e over to
a summerhouse, talking all the while, sat me d own and
sent Charl es (my youthful comp anion) to bring the b es t
wine from the cellar. I doub t that I ever enjoyed t h e most
costly champagne as I enj oyed glass after glass of J oseph's
cool dry wine. I fel t young, happy, full o f vitality. But the
old man soon s poile d my mo od b y asking:
" 'What have you been doing all these years, Waldemar? '

221
 " I told him the sto ry of my failures, concluding by
s aying that of course my life might have taken a b et ter
course b ut I did not regret anything: i f I had l o st my
youth ful faith I had acquired a sober view of l ife-j o yle ss,
perh aps, and melanch oly, b ut at least true.
" ' Waldemar, ' pro tested the old man, 'b eware of
embracing too sober a view of life ; it may chill y o ur h e art
and destroy the springs of love in it. I failed t o foresee
many things in y our li fe ; you h ave suffe red much , but y ou
must n o t give up the fight ; the value o f human life lies in
struggle ; its rewards must be p aid for i n suffering . '
" At that time I t o o k a more simple view o f life, b u t
the o l d man ' s words imp ressed m e deep ly.
' " It would b e b e tter, pere J o seph, if you told m e ab out
y ourself-how h ave you spent these years ? My li fe h as n ot
turned out as you hoped, b ut let's fo rget it. I am like the
hero of those folk tales I used to translate to y ou, who a t
every cross-ro ad would cry out " Is th ere a living soul
here ? " And there never was a l iving s oul. That h as b een
my misfortune. As the saying goe s : "One man in the field
is no warrior. " So I left th e field, and h ave come h e re t o
see you.'
'" You have given up too so on, too soon,' ob se rve d th e
old man, shaking his head. 'What can I tell y o u ab out
myself? Mine is a quie t life. After leaving you I lived in
Sweden for a while, then accomp anied an Englishman to
Lon don where I t augh t his children for tw o y ears ; b ut my
way o f thinking was so d ifferent fro m the resp e cte d lord 's
that I left him. I was h omesick and went dire ctly to
Geneva, where I found n ob ody b ut my sister's son, still a
yo ung lad. For some time I considered how I was t o s tart
li fe anew when · the end was in sight. Unexpe ctedly a
vacancy turned up in this scho o l ; I took the p ost and t o
this d ay am highly. ple ased with my o c;.cup atio n. N o t e very­
one n eed, n o r indeed can, take first pl ace in life ; e ach m ust
contrib ute what he is able to the circle in which h e fin d s
himself. Work i s always t o b e found, and afte r accom­
plishing it one can sleep th e fin al sleep in p eace . Our thirst
fo r n oisy so cial p rominence only testi fies to our imma­
turity , very often to a l ack o f self-respect th at m ak es u s
dependent upon extern al circumstan ces. Take m y w ord for
it, Wal demar, this is true .'

222
 " Our conversation continued in this tone for about an
hour.
" The exciteme nt of this me eting p ut me in an e xcel­
len t mood and made me e xceedingly resp onsive ; the h alf­
forgotten dreams o f youth returned to me. As I gazed o n
Joseph's face-so tranquil and serene- ! was ashamed o f
myself, oppre ssed b y m y sophistication. How sple ndid h e
was ! Old age has its own b eauty, a soothing b eauty as
co ntrasted with the beauty o f p assio n and imp ulse ; the
remains o f his white h air stirred in the e vening b re eze and
his eyes, animated by our meeting, radiated a quiet light;
as I lo oked at h im , fe eling y oung and h appy, I w as
re minded of the Catho lic monks o f th e early centu rie s as
rep resented in p aintings of the old Italian masters. The y
t o o were young, despite their grey hair, I said t o myself,
and he is young; and I am old; why h ave I learned so much
that they remained ignorant o f?
"] oseph took my arm as h e go t up to enter the h ouse
and he said to me again and again : 'Time you were
returning to your own country, Wald em ar, tim e y ou were
go in g h ome . '
" I spent the night with him. A th ousand plans and
proje cts kept me awake ; J o seph's e x ample was too much
fo r m e : he , old and wi th out means, h ad found a place for
himself in the world and it h ad b ro ught h im p eace,
whereas I, par depit, h ad le ft my native land to w ander
abro ad doing n o thing, a useless and u nwanted alien.
" The next mo rning I announced to Joseph that I was
leaving directly for my native gubernia to enroll as a can­
didate in the elections. Tears c ame to the old man's eyes as
he put his hand on my head and said : 'Go , my boy, g o .
You will see-there i s n othing a p e rso n c annot a ccomplish
if he approaches his t ask sincerely and h ono urably . ' In an
unsteady vo ice he added : ' And may you find p eace for
y o ur soul.'
" We p arted. I set out for home, h e for the oth er w orld.
Well, that is all . That was my last moment of y outhful
enthusiasm; wi th that my educ ati on ended . "
Lub a looked at him with deep comp assion; his eyes
and his entire face were profoundly mournful, and this w as
the m o re striking in th at mournfulness did n o t accord with
his character as it did, say, with the characte r o f Krutzi-

223
fersky. A keen observer would have seen that external cir­
cums tances h ad b ee n pressing heavily upon his b right
n ature for long, that dark e lements h ad forced th eir w ay
in to it and were consuming it.
' 'Why did you ever come here? " as ked Lub a quietly.
" Thank you, I sincere ly thank y ou fo r such a ques­
tion," replied Beltov.
" It is in deed strange , " ob served Krutzifersk y. " It i s
quite in comprehensible wh y pe ople should b e endowed
with stre ngth and aspirations which they can neve r realise .
Every animal is cunningly adap ted b y n atu re t o a d e finite
form of life . But man ? There must be some misunder­
standing; the heart and mind reb els at the thought th at
people are ble ssed with marvellous p owers and aspirations
only to b e destroyed b y th em. Ho w is i t p o ssib le ? "
" How in de e d ! " s aid Beltov w armly. " And seen from
that p oint of v iew there is no solution to th e p roble m . The
fo rces within a man develop and p repare th emse lves
ceaselessly, but the need of th em is determined by h istory .
You mu st know that every morning in Mos cow crowds o f
work me n set out i n search o f occup atio n-perm anent o r
by the day ; some fin d work ; o th ers a fter long w aitin g, tum
home with dr o op ing h e ads, or, mo re ofte n , go to the p ub ;
this holds true in all fields o f human e ndeavour: candid ates
are legion, and if history needs th em th ey are taken ; i f it
d oes not, they are left to their own resources. It i s amusing
to apply this to individuals : F rance needed military l e aders
and she go t the m-Dumouriez, Hoche, N ap oleon and his
marshals-no end o f th em. Th e wars e nded, p eace ful times
set in, and where are your mi litary geniuses ? "
"What b e comes of all the talented p e ople who are
unwanted? " asked Lub a rue fu lly.
" Various things; some with e r and b ecome p art of the
crowd, others are " sent forth to settle dis tant lands, or to
the galleys, or to supp ly work to e xecutio ne rs ; cert ainly
this d oes not come ab out all at o nce; your lost souls b egin
by fre quenting taverns, gambling, b e coming c ard sh ark s,
then they venture out on to the h ighways or lurk i n d ark
li ttle b yways, according to their t aste. But there are
occasions when they hear a call, and th en th e p icture
changes: instead of a highwayman you h ave th e i llustrio us
Ermak , the pioneer wh o b egan th e settle ment o f Sib e ria.

2 24
 Occ asio nally they tum into kin d, q uiet creatures who sit at
home gnawed b y b itter thoughts. Th e stran gest ideas c o me
to a person who feels frustrated, o ne who IS forced to sit
with folded h an ds when his mind and heart are torm en te d
b y t h e urge to activity-and with such s trong muscles, and
such a plethora o f good red blood ! One thing o nly can
s ave such a person and e ngage his wh ole b eing, and that is,
meeting . . . meeting. . . . "
He did not finish the sen te nce.
Lub a gave a little start.
" Wh.at a muddled head y o u h ave ! " b ro ke in the
doctor. " Have you said anything sensib le? -nothing but
ravings, chaotic ravings ! A fine candidate to the uyezd
court o r c ouncil, 1 must say ! "
They all laughed.

Chapter V

Among the show-places o f this town, the public p ark

des erved sp ecial attention. The natural b eauty o f the cen­
tral regions of o ur country m akes p ublic p arks superfluous ;
that , I suppose, is why they are rarely visited-that is, o n
we ekday s ; on Sundays and h olidays y ou will find the
entire p opulation there fro m six to nine in the evening, but
they gather not to enjoy the p ark but to enjoy o ne
another. If the Governor is o n go o d terms with the com­
m ander o f the regiment statio ned in the town, you will
have a b rass b and or a fi fe and drum corps, depending o n
t h e ki n d o f regiment it is ; then o vertures to Lodoiska and
Le Caltfe de Bagdad as well as French quadrilles reminding
us o f the days of Greek e mancip ation and The Mosco w
Telegraph * will gladden the e ars o f m erchants' wives in
their summer finery, and of those p rovincial maidens
whose hands nobody seeks (which m eans they m ust b e
ove r fo rty ). O n weekdays, a s has been said , the p ark is
empty except, perhaps , fo r some disconso late traveller

* ThtJ Moscow Telegraph-a liberal Russian journal published

fro m 1 8 2 5 to 1 8 34.- Tr.

15-171 225
who , driven to desp air by getting no horses and b y dis­
covering that this town looks exactly like all other pro­
vincial towns, comes to the p ark in the hope of seeing
so mething p assably agre eable. Po ets have l ong since made
the observation that nature is shoc kingly indi fferent to
what the people crawling over her b ack are doing, it does
not weep over poetry nor laugh over prose b ut goes ab out
its own b usiness in the m ost ratio nal way p ossible. N ature
behave d exactly in this way in this town; it did not care
that nobody cam e to stroll in the p ark, nor that if they did
stroll they admired not the trees b ut the marvellous
pavilion in Gree k-Chinese style. The p avilion was a wonder
of its sort; the Governor's wife aptly n amed it Man repos.
The fe ature m ost conducive to rep ose was the ginger-bread
horse cut o ut o f tin and serving as the dragon guarding the
entrance. It was mounted on a rod and revo lved ro un d and
ro und, giving o ut a plaintive squeak evoking day-dreams
an d informing y o u that the wind carrying your hat o ff to
the left was re ally coming fro m the right; in the wall ab ove
the horse an d between the columns were the fierc e and
shaggy heads o f alab aster lions, cracked and crumbling
fro m the rain, threatening at any moment to drop a nose
or an e ar on any one p assing below. Desp ite the squeaking
of the horse and . the danger of b eing kille d by the lions ,
indifferent nature grew ab undantly in the side p aths , with
more restraint in the central p ath, this res traint being the
result not o f modesty b ut of an order issued by the pre­
ceding Governor to clip the tops o f the limes in the central
path, finding such wilful b urge o ning incompatible with a
strict fulfilment of duty. Deprived of their upper b ranches
and with new twigs spro uting to wards the sky, the limes
reminded the ob server of convicts whose heads have been
half-shaved to identify them in case they try to escap e , and
who , like Titans, \\'ere crying out Ozero v's lines in p rotest :
The go ds exist, but earth has been betrayed into the
hands of evil-doers.
In the side-path s the foliage was free to gro w as it
pleased, or as its sap all owed.
I n one of these side-p aths, o n an Ap ril day s o warm
that it seemed sent intentio nally to emphas ise the c oldness
of succeeding May days, a lady in a white cap e was wal king
with a gen tleman in a black coat . The p ark was on a hill , at

2 26
the to p o f which sto o d two benches usually ado rned by
the usual chalked inscriptions ; the p olice sergeant could
not for the life of him catch the malefactors b ut he did,
before every holiday, send a member of the fire-brigade
(whose profession hardened him to destruction) to e rase
the current work of art. The lady an d ge ntleman sat d own
on one o f these benches. The view from there wac; en­
gaging. A wide road , very muddy, encircled the p ark and
went down to the river. The river was in spat e ; on both
banks there was an accumul ation o f carts, carriages , taran­
tasses , unhitched horses , peasant women with bundles ,
soldiers a n d artisan s ; t w o b i g wooden ferry-boats plied the
river ceaselessly ; l oaded down with peo ple , horses and
carriage s, they advanced by o ar slowly, like antediluvian
monsters regularly lifting an d lowerin g their numerous
legs. A medley o f sounds was brought to the ears o f the
lady and gentleman : the s queak of cart wheels , the tinkle
o f, bells, the cries of the o arsmen , the faint replies coming
fro m the opposi te b ank, the cursing of impatient p assen­
gers, the stamping o f horses' hooves in th e boats, the
mooing of cows tied by their horns to the carts, an d the
loud co nversation of peasants waiting round a fire on the
near bank. The lady an d gentleman interrupted their con­
versati o n to contemplate this scen e . I do not kn o"Y why
such scenes an d s o unds a ffect us so strongly , but I could
wi sh n o thing better for Viardot and Rubini than that
audiences should listen to their singing with the s ame agi­
tation , the same leaping-up o f the heart , with which I have
so o ften listened to the e ndless , l ong-drawn-out song o f a
boatman keep ing watch o ver his boats in the night-time-a
mourn ful s ong accompanied b y the lapping o f water and
the s o und of the win d in the willows along the b ank. Many
have b e en the thoughts evoked by such m ourn ful singing ;
at times it has see med to me that the p o o r man' s song was
striving to escape fro m this stifling sphere in to another an d
better o ne ; again that the singer was unconsciously giving
voice to some personal grief, that it was his soul s inging
be cause his s o ul was sorrowful , cramped and o ppresse d .
But that was i n the days o f m y youth.
"How lovely it is here ," breathed the lady in the white
cap e at last. " Yo u must o wn that our n orthern scen ery is
beauti ful to o, i s it not? "

1 5* 227
 " As sce nery is everywhere . Wherever a person is and
whenever he contemplate s n ature and life dire ctly, disin­
terestedly, an d with an op en heart, he finds no end o f
delight. "
" True, one can enj oy e verything in the world i f o ne
has a mind to. A strange thought o ften occurs to me : why
is it that a person can find som ething beautiful to enj o y in
everything but people ? "
" One can understand why, but that does n o t make it
any easier. We drag ulterior m otives in to our human re­
lations, thereby turning p oetic relatio nship s into p rosaic
ones. Men look upon one another as enemies w ith who m
they must fight and u se cunning, and on w hom they m ust
impose their own conditions of a truce. What enj o ymen t
can be found in this? W e were b orn and raised with this
conception and i t is well-nigh i mpossible to free o urselves
of it ; all of us have a philistine sen se of self-imp ortance
that makes us glance about nervously an d size up o ur fel­
lowmen . Hum an beings do not fear an d do not compete
with n ature and that is why we feel free and light-hearted
when we are alone with it; at such times we give o urselves
up wholely to our i mpressions. Invite even y our b est friend
to accompany you and all will be differen t. "
"I rarely meet new pe ople and even m ore r arely those
with whom I feel conge nial ; an d yet I believe there is, o r at
least there could b e , such a sense of affinity b etw een tw o
people that all barriers of misunderstanding would be
down and no circumstances could bring them into con­
flict . "
" I doubt the p ermanence o f such complete affinity ; it
exists o nly in words. Pe ople think they have found i t only
because they have not yet b ro ached que stions on which
they take opposite stands, b ut sooner o r l ater they will b e
confronted b y them . "
" Ye t until this happens they can enjoy m o ments o f
complete sympathy i n which nothing will preven t them
fro m enjoying nature and e ach o ther."
" It is only in these m om ents that I believe, sacred
m oments when a m an gives l avishly and unstintingly , gives
all of himself and is himself astonished at his riches and the
fullness of his love. But they are rare , an d usually w e are
incap able of appreciating them or cherishing them at the

228
 ti me, indeed we let them slip thro ugh our fingers o r
de stroy them by unworthy means, a n d they pass o u t o f a
m £l!l ' s life , leaving him with an aching heart and a vague
sense o f so mething good that might have been but w as not.
There is n o denying that human b eings have ordered their
lives very unsatisfactorily : they waste nine-tenths of them
on p etty trifles and d o not know how to make good use of
th e remaining tenth. "
" I f a person appreciates t he value of su ch m oments,
why sho uld he let them slip past ? Up on you, who see and
understand this so clearly, lies a two-fold responsibility,"
said Lub a with a smile.
"I highly p rize all enj oy ment, not o nly such m oments ;
it is eas y to s ay ' do not let them slip p ast ' , but o ne false
note and a song is spoiled . How can one surrender o neself
wholely to them when phantoms hover ab out . . . shaking
their fingers . . . scolding. . . . "
" Are not the phanto m s o f your own creating? "
" My own creating ? " repe ate d Beltov , whose voice
gradually changed unde r the p ressure of his emotion. "It is
hard for me to explain to you, but I see it very clearly
myself; people have suppressed themselves to the extent
that they d are not give rein to a single em otion any m ore .
Here , let me give you an example, one I o ught not to give ,
but-I must come out with it ; having begun I am unable
to stop. I have l oved you since the first days of our
acquaintance. Whe ther it is love , or friendship , or affinity I
cannot say , b ut one thing I do know and that is that your
presence has become indispensable to m e. I know that I
spend whole mornings with the impatience of a child, in
morbid anticipation of the evening. Evening comes and I
hasten to your house , made breathless by the thought that
I shall see you. I, who have lost everything; I, who have
been co ldly rep ulsed wherever I turned , have come to lo ok
upon you as my sole consolation. I assure you I am in no
mood to speak lightly at this m omen t . How many ti mes,
crossing y our threshold with beating heart, have I assumed
a casual air, talked abo ut this and that, and thus spent
whole hours in your p re se nce . What is the sense o f this
foo lish co medy ? I will say m ore : you yourself are not
indifferent to me; there have been evenings when you
waited for me, I saw the joy in your eyes when I entered-

. 2 29
an d at such mo ments the pounding of my heart ro bbed me
of b reath-yet you received me with feigned co mposure
and you to o k a seat at a respe ctful distance fro m me and
we pretended to mean noth ing to each other. Why ? Was
there any thing at the b otto m of my heart or of yo urs to
cause us sh ame, anything we ought to have h idden fro m
other eyes ? N o ! Fro m other eyes ? Why , we hid our
feelings fro m each other, which was even more foolish ; we
are speaking ab out them now fo r the first time, an d even
so we are telling o nly hal f truths. The noblest feeling be­
comes painful, stinging, shady-not to use a stronger
wo rd-if we are afraid of it, if we hide it ; if we come to
believe it is cri minal it really does become crim inal ; to
take pleasure in something as a thief takes p leasure in
stolen goods , behind closed doors, w ith ears p ricked fo r
the faintest rustle-that d ishono urs the obj ect o f p leasure
as well as him who enjoys it."
" You are unj ust," replied Luba in a trembling v o ice. " I
have never hidden the friendship I feel fo r you, I have had
no need to do s o . "
" Then tell me, pray , " protested Beltov, seizing her
hand an d pressing it, "why is it that, at the end of m y
endurance, with m y heart fille d w ith love for th is w o m an
and lo nging to reveal my love, to confess all, I have not
had the courage to go to her and take her hand and look
into her eyes an d tell her everything, everything, and lay
my weary head on her b reast? And why could she not
respond with the words I clearly read upon her lips but
which she never allowed to p ass the m ? "
"Because , " replied Luba in a kin d of desp eratio n ,
"because that woman belongs t o someone else and lov es
him-yes, yes, loves h im with all her heart! "
Beltov dro pped her hand.
" Fancy that ! The o ne answer I never expecte d to
receive ! Ye t now i t seems no other is p o ssible. On the
other hand, does one attachment p reclude another, as
if a person had but a certain measure of love at his dis­
posal? "
" Perhaps not, but I do not un ders tand how a woman
can love two men at once. My husb and has earn e d an
enorm ous and inviolable right to my love b y , among other
things , loving me without measure . "

230
 " Why should you defend yo ur husband's right? N o
o n e is challenging it. And your defense i s invali d : if his
love has given hi m a right to yours , why should another' s
love, just a s deep and si ncere , give him n o rights a t all?
Very o dd . But let us be frank, Lub o v Alexandrovna, frank
if b ut o nce in our lives , then I shall never speak o f this
again and will even go away if you wish me to. Yo u say
that you do not understand how you can l ove your
husband and so meone else at the same ti me. Do you really
not understand? Search your heart to sec what is go ing o n
in it this very moment. Have the courage to admit that I
am right, at least to ad mit that you have felt, that you
have given it thought; I know that you have , I have read
these thoughts in your ey es."
" Ah , Belto v, Beltov, why are we saying such things? "
cried Luba in a voice full o f sorro w. " We were so happy
before . It will never be the same again, you shall see."
" Because we have at last given things their right
names ? What childishness ! "
Beltov shoo k his head ruefully and narrowed his eyes.
Instantly all the tenderness and e xaltati o n went out o f his
face and were supp lanted by hi s old look o f irony.
His frightened companion looked at him with tears in
her eyes . She was stri kingly beautiful at that moment ; she
h ad taken off her h at and her dark hair was uncurled and
ruffled by the damp breeze ; every feature of her face was
full of animation, full of eloquence , and love streamed
fro m her dark blue eyes ; a q uivering hand now clutched
her handkerchief, now plucked at the ribbon of her hat ;
fro m time to time her breast rose high as if she were strug­
gling to draw air into her lungs. What did this pro ud man
want of her? He wanted her to pronounce one word , he
wanted to triump h ; as if the pro nouncing of the word were
necessary ! If he were younger in spirit and if his min d had
not been o ccu pied by strange and bitter thoughts for so
long, he would not deman d that word of her.
" You arc a dreadful p erson," murmured poor Luba at
last, lifting her eyes to hi m shyly.
He withsto o d her gaze , then said : "Where could
Se myo n Ivanovich b e ? He was going to join us. Can he b e
looking for u s i n s o m e other path ? Le t us g o a n d find him
before it is too dark . "

231
 She did not m ove , o ffe nded by the tone o f this last
remark. Afte r a little p ause she again raised her eyes to his
face and said so ftly and imploringly :
"I have fallen in your estimatio n ; you forget that I am
only a weak woman," and her eyes filled w ith tears .
As always, the woman ' s love and tenderness co nquere d
the man' s imperiousness. Be lto v, to uche d t o t h e quick,
p icked up her hand and pressed it to h is b reas t ; she felt the
po unding of his heart and h is hot tears falling on her hand.
How handsome he was, how i rresistible i n this m oment of
pro ud p assion ! Her own blood was co ursing so madly, her
head was so light, her heart so b ursting with emotion, that
in a heedless momen t she threw herself i nto his arms and
her tears fJ.owe d upon his colourful Parisian waist-co at . At
almost th e s ame m om en t Dr. Krup ov' s voice was heard
calling:
" Hello ! Where are you? Hello ! "
" Here we are ! " answered Beltov, o ffering Lub a his
arm.
Beltov was drunk with happiness. His slumbering sp irit
suddenly revived with all its fo rmer strength. His love ,
which until this mom ent had b een under constraint , now
sho o k i tself free and a feeling of inexpressible bliss filled
his whole being. It was as if he had n o t known yesterday
that he loved and was loved. Having seen Luba home, he
went back to the p ark, to that very b ench, and he wept
and was carried away by his e m otions o nce again ; he could
scarcely b elieve he was still capable o f fe eling so stro ngly ,
so youthfully. True, something unpleasant soon i ntruded
upon his joyful m oo d , something that m ade him wrinKle
his b row, but on reaching home he o rdere d Grigori to se rve
a bottle o f champ agne with supper, an d h e drowned the
unpleasant in champagne, and his joy b e came keener than
ever.
Luba, p ale as death, took leave of Beltov at her ho use ,
to which Dr. Krupov had accom panie d her also . She d ared
not ad mit or recall what had hap p ened, but one thing she
could not help remembering with every fibre of her b eing,
and that was his b urning, searing, pro longe d kis s ; she
wished to forget i t, b ut it was too sweet a memory to p art
with. Dr. Krupov would have left her at the house to o , but
she feared to enter alone and invited him i n .

232
 They found Krutzife rsky sitting at the table reading a
j o urnal; he appe ared to be m ore co mposed than usual.
With a welco ming s mile he closed the j o urnal and held out
his hand to his wife.
" Where have you been ? " h e asked. " I waited so long I
b egan to mope. "
His wife's hand was as cold as the hand o f o ne at
death's door.
f>O
"We were in the p ark , ' ' Dr. Kru V answered for her.
" Ar e you unwell ? " asked Krutzifersky. " Your hand is
so cold ! And you are loo king ill ! "
"I feel a bit dizz y ; calm yourself, Dmi tri, I will drink
some water and lie down and it will p ass."
"Wait, why this haste ? Le t me examine you; you
forget I am a doctor. What's this ? Indeed she is not well.
Put her o n the couch, D mitri Yakovlich ; take her under
the arm, under the arm , that's it. I noti ced when we were
co ming b ack she did not look herself. The spring air, thin
blood, vapours from the melting i ce , all kinds of nastiness
rele ase d by the thaw. If I had some dry mustard fo r
co mpresses -little ones , the size of your p alm, mixed with
black bread and vinegar. Is your cook about? Send her to
my Karp, he knows . . . ask him for s o me mustard . . . hm . . .
we will put them o n her calves and i f they d o n o t help­
another two or three b elow her shoul d ers , in the fleshy
p art . . . . "
"I a m not ill, really I a m not," Lub a kept repeating in
a weak v oi ce when the seizure had p assed, leaving her
tre mbling all o ver. " Come here , Dmitri. I am not ill. Give
me your h and, D mitri. "
" What is it, what is it, my angel? " asked her husband,
who by this time was weeping and alm ost in a state o f
p rostratio n.
She turned a strange and sorrowful gaze upon him,
unable to say why she h ad called him. Again he asked her
what t he m atter was.
" Give me some water and let m e sleep and I will
reco ver. "
Two or three hours later Luba was i n b e d i n a kind o f
co ma o r lethargic sleep, punis hed for Beltov's kiss : with in,
by prickings of conscience ; without, by mustard plasters.
The shock had b e en too great for her system to withstand.

233
On the couch in the drawing-ro o m l ay Dr. Krupov, fully
dress e d ; he had remained in the house as much fo r Krutzi­
fe rs ky's sake, who was frantic with fright, as fo r Lub a' s. In
fifteen minutes the go od doctor was snori ng with th e aban­
don of one untroubled by body or conscience, al though at
first he had found great faul t with th e springs of the couch
which, instead of m aking it soft, m ade it resemble the
barrel in which the C�rthaginians rolled Regulus.
A little wick in a saucer of oil beside th e p atient' s bed
threw a bright c ircle o f light upon the ceiling, which kept
changing its size, wavering and rep eating every m ovement
of the tiny flame. Krutzifers ky, p ale and stunned, sat
beside the table with the little lamp on it. Any one who has
sat at the sick-b ed of a lo ved one-a fri end, a brother, a
b elo ved woman-espe cially throughout one of our long
winter nights , can well i m agine what the n ervous Kru tzi­
fersky was suffering. A dull, numb sense of helples sness,
combined with a fear of the future and th e strain of
weariness and sleeplessness , threw him into a state of
morbid excitement. He kept lean ing over to look at her,
putting his hand o n her fo rehead, finding that the fever
had ab ated, fearing this was all the worse fo r her be cause
the poison was driven within. He would get up, rearrange
the lamp and medicine vials, peer at his watch, place it
against his ear and return it to his p o cket without h aving
tak en note of th e time, sit down again and, with his eyes
fixed upon the shifting circle of light on the ceiling, give
himself up to thoughts and fan cies, his sick mind in a state
approaching delirium . " No , it could not h appen , it is
impossible, quite i mpossible," he s aid to himself. " She is
all I have in th e world, and so yo ung. God knows how I
love her, he will take p ity o n me. It is just a trifle, it will
p ass ; just a cold damp wind, her blood thin , vap ours . . . but
th en spring colds �re the worst . . . fever ... consumption . . .
how i s it that they have not yet learned t o cure co nsump­
tio n ? A dreadful illness ! Ah, but i t is dangerous only for
those under eighteen; and yet there was the wife o f our
French master-thirty years old and died o f co nsumption
. . . yes, died . . . and if. . . . " At this p o int he had a clear vision
of a co ffin in their drawing-ro om with a light co ve r thro wn
over it and the sound of rites being read , with Dr. Krup ov
standing sorro wfully by and little Yasha i n the arm s o f his

234
nurse, who wore a white kerchief over her hair. Then he
had an even more horrifying vision-that of the ro o m
without the coffin , all n e a t a n d clean , t h e floor scrubb ed,
the s mell of incense hanging in the air.... Almost fainting,
he go t up and went over to his wife . Her cheeks were
flaming, her breathing was heavy , s he w as deep in a feve­
rish sleep. Krutzife rsky threw his arms across his chest and
wep t b it terly. Oh, yes ; that man knew how to love ! One
had but to look at him ; he s an k down o n his knees, to o k
his wife's burning h an d in his and raised i t to h i s lips.
" N o , no," he said aloud. " He will not t ake her, she will
not leave me, what would I do without her ? "
He lifted his eyes and began to pray.
Just then Dr. Krupov entered the room.
His face was crumpled with sleep, his left eye refused
to open , try as he might · to contract the muscle that
worke d the left eyelid.
" What ? Has she become delirio us? "
" No , she is sleeping soundly."
"I heard her with my o wn ears, Sir ; or was I
dreaming? "
" Yo u must have been, Semyon Ivan ovich ," s aid
Krutzifersky with the embarr ass ment o f a schoolboy
caught telling a fib .
The doctor went o ver to the bed.
"She has a fever but nothing serious I believe; why do
you not lie down, Dmitri Yakovl ich ? You can not help
her by tort uring y ourself. "
" I will not lie down," replied Krutzifers ky.
" D o as you like ." said the docto r with a yawn as he
turned back to the bristling couch, on which he slept
so undly until seven thirty, the hour at which he rose every
morning regardless o f whether he had gone to b ed at ten in
the evening or at seven in the m orning.
His ex amin ation of the patien t had told him she had a
slight cold-fever, as he put it, and ad ded that this was the
season for this complaint.
We will now le t Luba herself tell us what happened
when she recovered from the fever ; here are some entries
fro m her diary :
May 1 8. How long it has been since I wrote in this
book, over a m onth-over a m onth ! So metimes it seems

235
to me that ye ars have p assed since I fell ill. Well, the illness
seems to be over and life will now proceed in its old calm
and quiet way. Yesterday I went o ut for the first time.
How wonderful it was to breathe fresh air ! The weather
was divine , but I have become so weak that after taking a
turn or two about the garde n I felt giddy and had to come
in. Dmitri was frightened, b ut the giddiness soon p assed.
Dear God, how he does l ove me! And how he did take
care of me during my illness, go o d, kin d Dmitri ! I had but
to open my eyes during the night and h e w as by my side,
asking me if I wante d anything, o ffering me a drink. Po or
dear, he has become so thin himself one might think it was
he who had been ill. What an ex traordinary p ower o f
loving he po ssesses ! One would have to p o ssess a heart o f
flint n o t t o love such a man. A n d I d o l ove him, I c anno t
help loving him. The incident in t h e p ark means n othing,
my fever had already set in and made me s uscep tible, my
nerves were on edge. I saw him yesterd ay for the first time
since my illness. I heard his voice as in a dre am and I c an
hardly say that I saw him ; h e was deeply agitated an d
while he tried to hide i t his voice quivered when he sai d t o
me : " At last, a t last you are bett er ! " After that he said
hardly anything, he was distracted by some thought that
he seemed trying to wipe away by running his hand over
his brow again and again b ut to no avail. Not so much as a
hint did he make as to what had hap p en ed, realising, I
suppose, that it was merely the result o f my illness. Why
have I not told Dmitri all ab out i t ? That evening when he
took my hand so shyly I wante d to throw myself in his
arms and tell him everything, but I lacked the strength and
felt faint. Besides, Dmitri is so s ensitive , I know how it
would hurt�him . Later I shall certainly tell him.
May 20. Yesterday Dmitri and I went to the p ark, he
wanted to sit on t!"J.at very bench but I told him I feared
the wind from the river. It was the bench I fe are d , I feared
our sitting on it would be an insult to D mitri . Is it true
that one can love two people at once ? I do not know. One
can love not two b ut several at once, but this is o nly
playing with words ; o ne can l ove with true l ove o nly o ne ,
and that one for me i s my husb an d. I also love Dr. Krup ov ,
and I a m not afraid t o confess that I love Beltov; h e is su ch
a strong character that I canno t resist loving him. He was

236
 London . 1 9 th-century engraving.
Herzen lived in London from 1 8 5 2 to 1 864.
 .11 111 \OH ] ,

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Polyarnaya Zvezda (The Polar Star), an almanac put out by

Herzen abroad and illegally distributed in Ru ssia. The cover
carries the profiles of the five Decembrists executed by
Nicholas I .
 KOIOKOJD
D P II E A D O 'I H bi E A H C T !.l Il l. D O A II P U O II 3 8 11 3 .{ 1;

VIVOS V OC O !

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1\w-.t·l.llr:. t.nr'Cit{ t 'I II O n J�1, ­
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Kolokol (The Bell}, published by Herzen and Ogarev as a sup­

plement to Polyarnaya Zvezda.
Alexander Herzen and Nikolai Ogarev.
Photograph made in London , 1 8 6 1 .
b orn to acco mplish great things, he is not an o rdin ary
person ; genius shines in his eyes. Such a man has no need
of that kind of love. What is a wo man to him? She would
become lost in the vastnesses of his soul. It is another sort
of love he needs. He suffers, suffers de eply , and a woman' s
tender frie ndship could alleviate his sufferings ; I will
always offer him such friendship , but he is to o ardent,
ardent in every thing ; and he is s o unused to attention and
sympathy, has always been so lonely and has become s o
disapp ointed and e mb ittered, that the first understanding
word made his soul revive. That is only n atural.
May 23. There are moments w hen one is visited by a
disturbing desire to live a fuller l ife . Perhaps it is ingrati­
tude to fate on my p art, or p erhaps it is only human
nature , b ut I often experience the longing, especially of
lat e , to . . . I do not know how to put it in words. I sin­
cerely love Dmitri, b ut someti mes I fe el the n eed o f some­
thing he is unable to give me-he is so humble, so gentle
that I would have no trouble in telling him all my dreams,
all my childish fancies, and he would appreciate them ,
would not laugh them to sc orn , would not insult me with
chilling words or learned p hrases; b ut that is not enough ;
the soul has other de man ds, yearns at ti mes for strength ,
for daring ideas ; why is it that Dmitri feels no need of
seeking th e truth , of torturing himself b y searching for it?
Whenever I bring my d oub ts and questions to him he tries
to comfo rt and console me, to s o othe me as if I were a
child. That is not at all what I want. He so othes himself
too with his childish beliefs ; I cannot do so.
May 24. Yasha is ill. For two days he lay with a h igh
fever an d today a rash b ro ke o ut. Dr. Krupov is deceiving
me. It is ten times b e tter to tell the truth ; o ne' s i magina­
tio n must be given a go od fright and not be allowed to
roam at will ; it invents worse things than actual o nes. I
cannot look into Yasha's eyes, my heart nearly breaks to
see his suffering. How thin he has gro wn , the darling, and
how p ale ! But the moment he feels a bit b e tter he smiles
and asks for his b all. It is frightening to think of the p e ri sh­
ability of all we hold most dear. The whirlwind co mes and
snatches up the good an d the b ad alike ; people are caught
up in it and hurled n o w to the heights of bliss, now to the
depths of despair. Man supposes that he is the master o f

1 6 - 1 71 241
his fate ; actually h e is like a s traw on the surface o f a river,
twis ting about in a circle until caugh t by a w ave and
carrie d away, perhaps to the riverbank, perhaps out to the
sea, or perhaps to be caught in a t angle of water-weeds . A
dreary and painful though t !
May 26. He has scarlet fev er. Three of Dmitri 's
brothers died of scarlet fever. Dr. Krupov is glum and
irritable and hardly stirs from Y asha's bedside. D e ar God,
what is to become o f us ? D mitri himself can hardly stand
on his legs. Is this the happiness I hav e brought him ?
May 2 7. Time drags o n insufferably ; what i s t o be the
sentence-death or mercy ? I f o nly it would come s o o n !
What excep tional health I must have t o be ab le t o with­
stand all this ! Dr. Krupov k eeps s aying o ne and t he same
thing: " Patience, p atience ! " Farewell, Yasha, my angel . . .
farewell, little one. . . .
May 29. F or a day and a half he has been more tran­
quil, the crisis h as p assed. This is the v ery time when we
must be most cautious . Until now I have kept mysel f up
by force ; now I am b eginning to feel spiritually drained,
I long to pour out my heart to someon e ; what a j o y it is
to talk to someone y ou know will p erfectly understand
and sym pathise with you.
June 1. All is going well. This time the clouds seem to
have p assed over. Yasha p laye d with me in bed for two
ho urs today. He is too weak to stand up. Dear, dear
Dr. Krupov, what a remarkable m an he is !
June 6. Our alarm is over. Yasha is much b e tter but I
am ill, very ill, I cannot doub t it. So metimes as I am sitting
besid� his bed I feel, instead o f j o y , a kind of despair that
rises o ut of the dep ths o f my soul and grows and grows
nntil it turns into such cruel p ain that I lo ng to die. In all
our trouble I have not had time to be alone with myself;
my illness, then Yasha' s, and all the cares asso ciated with it
have not le ft me a minute t o think about my self. As soon
as circu msi ances improved and life became more serene, a
grave and i mportunate voice kept urging me to search my
own heart, and whe n I did s o , I did not see my self. After
dinner yesterday I felt ill. I was in Yasha' s roo m , so I laid
my head on his pillow and fell asleep. I have no i dea how
long I slept, but suddenly I was a wakened by a feeling o f
oppressio n; I o pe ned my eye s ; Beltov was s tanding b eside

242
me and nob ody else was in the ro om- Dmitri had gone to
give a lesso n. He loo ked at me with e yes filled with tears ;
he said nothing, only took my hand and pressed it till it
hurt ; then he went away. Why d id no t he sp eak to me? I
wanted to sto p him but m y vo ice failed m e.
June 9. He spent the entire evening with us and was
terribly gay-witty and sarcastic and full of bo isterous
laughter, b ut I could see it was all fo rced ; I even fancied he
had b ee n drinking to support his mood. He is miserable, he
is deceiving himself, he does not feel gay in the least. Can
it be that inste ad o f b ringing him relief I have o nly ad ded
to his griefs ?
June 1 5. The weather was sultry today, I was ex­
hausted by the heat. At dinner-time we had a thunder­
storm and the po uring rain refreshed me more than it did
the trees and the grass. We went to the p ark ; it was un­
usually fine outdoors, the fresh moist trees gave o ff a frag­
rance that was to nic. I felt completely restored. For the
first time I took a different view of that d ay ! There was
much that was b e autiful i n it. Can anything b e autiful,
elevating, blissful be a sin? We walked along the same
path. So meone was sitting on our bench. We went up to it.
It was he. I almost cried out in j o y. He was glo omy, every­
thing he said was sad , full o f iro ny an d b itterness. He was
correct when he said that peo ple invent m eans of torturing
the mselves. If he were my b rother, could not I love him
openl y , with o ut hiding it fro m Dmitri or anyone else?
And no o ne would find it strange. Well, he i s my brother,
that I know. Oh, how b eautifully we could live then, our
little circle of fo ur ! We enjoy love , friendship, mutu al
trust, and yet we co mpro mise and s acrifice and are evasive.
It was late when we came home; the moon was up. B.
walked b eside me. What a strange magnetic po wer hi s
glance exercis e s ! D mitri's glance is as so ft and serene as
the blue sky ; his i s agitating, it thro ws me into a tumult­
wh ich p asses, th ank go o dness.
We spoke little, but in p arting he s aid to me: "I have
th o ught a lot ab out you all this tim e ; my heart is full o f
things I long t o tell you." " I have thought o f you too.
Go od night, Waldemar. " I myself do not kno w why I
called him by th at name, never had I done so before, but it
see med i mpossible to call him anything else. He started on

16* 24 3
hearing it, then he leaned over me with th e tenderness that
comes over him at times and sai d : " You are the third
perso n to call me that ; the sound soothes me as if I we re a
child and I shall be happy for at least two days now."
" Good night, Waldemar, go od nigh t," I rep eated. He
seemed about to say something, but he merely p ressed my
hand, l oo ked i nto my eyes, and turned away .
June 20. I have changed and grown more mature si nce
meeting Waldemar. His i mpassi o ned, assertive natu re, never
quiet, touches all my i nner strings and reac hes out to life's
every aspect. How many new questions have arisen i n my
mind ! How many si mple o rdinary things that I used to
take for granted now present problems for me to p onder!
Many an idea I had hardly dared harb our i n my mind, I
now b o ldly emb race. This entails surrendering some of the
dreams to which I had become accu stomed and which I
had tenderly nurtured ; there are mom ent s when I b itterly
regret their l oss, but o n the whole I feel relieved and more
free. It would be very hard for me if he s ho uld go away. I
did not seek him, but fate has thrown us together and we
can never again wholely p art , he has revealed to m e a new
world within myself. Is i t not odd that this man, who has
roamed the wo rld alone, unable to find either p eace or an
occupatio n for himself, sh ould i n this little town disc over
in a p oor, half-educated woman of an entirely different
social circle, the a nswer to his soul ' s yearnings? I fear he
loves me to o well, but is that subj ect to his will ? And then
he has be en so misunderstood and coldly rebuffed that he
is ready to repay the least heartfelt atten ti o n a hundred­
fold. It is bey ond my p ower to leave him to his solitude, to
alienate myself from hi m, i ndeed I would think i t criminal
to do so. He spoke truly : his love gives hi m a righ t to o .
Of late D mitri h as b e e n p articularly o u t o f sorts, he i s
always preoccupi�d and is more than usually absent­
minded. These qualities are p art of his nature, but they are
beco ming alarmingly pronounced. I am wo rried by his
dej ecti o n and sometimes I find a sinister explanati o n for it.
June 22. It turns out I was not mistaken. Yesterday
D mitri was in such a dread ful mood that I could not h elp
as ki ng him what was the matter. "I have a headache," was
his answer, " I must go fo r a walk." He too k his hat. " I will
go with you , " I said. "No, dear, n o t now. I shall walk fast ,

2 44
you will beco m e tired," and he went out with tears in his
eyes. I was so chagrined that I wept bitterly all the while
he was away ; o n his return he found me where he had left
me, at the window; seeing that I had been cryin0, he
pressed my hand sadly and sat down. We said nothing. In a
few minutes he re m arked, " Do you know what I have b ee n
thinking, Lub a ? H o w nice it would b e on a warm summer
evening to go to the woods toge ther, and there I would lie
down with my head in your lap and go to sleep forever."
" Go o dness gracious, what a doleful thought, Dmitri ! " I
replied. "Would you not regret le aving anyo ne b ehind ? "
"I would," he said. " I would deeply regret leaving you and
Yasha, but Dr. Krup ov says I only interfere with Yasha's
upbringing and I agree that you can educate him far better
than I can. And my co nstant prayers for you, there as
here , prayers full of faith and hope, would be heard. You
wo uld miss me, I know yo u would, you are so good and
kind , but you would fin d the s trength to endure it-you
yourself know that . " It was inexpressibly painful to hear
this ; I perceived so mething p ortentous b ehind his w ords
and again I wept. What is happening to us? I begi n to
believ e I have bro ught mis fortune into o ur lives. And yet
my conscience is clear. C an I have b rought him to such a
state by not loving him enough, or by. . . . He no longer
tru sts me as he once di d, that I can see. Can a feeling I do
not even wish to name h ave found a place in his magna­
nimous heart ? Is it possible that he thinks I have ceased
loving him and love another? Good Go d ! How am I to
explain it to him? It is not that I love anoth er, but that I
love him and Waldemar. But my love for Waldemar is quite
different. Strangely enough I had i magined that our life
had grown calm and would flow on in a broad, rich
stream-and sudde nly this gul f has o pened up in fro nt o f
us ! If o nly w e can keep o u r foothold o n the edge o f i t !
O h , how hard it is ! If I could p lay the piano well-very
well-I would draw o ut of it those soulful notes that I
cannot express in words, and Dmitri would understand me,
he would understan d that my feelings are pure. Poor
Dmitri ! He is suffering fro m loving me too much ; but I
love you too, darling D mitri ! If I had told him everything
at the very outset matters would not have come to this
pass. What dark p ower kept me fro m doing so ? As so on as

245
he is more serene I will speak to him, I will tell him every­
thing, everything.
June 23. Dr. Krup ov, t o o , seems to have changed his
attitude towards me. What have I done? I understand
nothing, neither what I have done nor what has b een d o ne
without my p articip ation. D mitri is calmer today ; I spoke
to him at length b ut did not tell him all ; there were mo­
ments when I fancied he co mprehended , b ut the next
moment I realised that we saw things i n quite a different
light. I b egin to think Dmitri h as never fully un derstood
me, has never been in complete sympathy with me. That is
a dreadful thought.
June 24. Late in the evening. How insuperable is the
life force ! In the midst o f grief and sorrow, in the midst
of sickly forebodings and genuine p ain, suddenly the sun
co mes out and the world is instantly transformed , is bright
and cheerful. Walde mar h as just left. He and I had a l o ng
talk. He, to o , is miserable and dej e cted , but how well I
u nderstand his every word ! Why should people and cir­
cumstances spoil the felicity we find in each other' s com­
p any by giving a false interpretatio n to it ? Why, o h why ?
June 25. Yesterday was St. John's day. Dmitri attended
a party at the home o f one o f the s choolmasters. He re­
turned late and not sober;_ n ever b efo re h ave I seen him in
that state. He staggered ab out our bedro o m , his face white ,
his h air ruffled. " Are y o u unwell, dear? " I asked. " Sh all I
bring you some water ? " " Yes," he said , gasping with
agitation and in a tone utterly unlike him : "I woul d t hank
you if you b ro ught me enough water to drown me in." I
looked him straight in the eye and he b e came c onfused.
" For God's sake don't listen to my ravings ! " he said ,
frightened b y my glance. " I myself don't reme mber h o w I
came to drink so much- makes me hot-makes me rave­
goodnight, dear, I will rest here a while," and he l ay down
fully clothed on th"e couch ; p resently he sank into a heavy
slumber. I did not shut my eyes all night. His face in sleep
express e d the deepest suffering ; at ti m es a s mile w ould
pass over it, but not his s mile. Ah, D mitri, I am not to be
deceived : it was not by chance you drank too much , and
you were not raving when you sp oke those words, the
wine merely gave you a hardness not ordinarily to be
found in your heart. Dear God, what dread ful fate is

246
hanging over us ! It is more than human strength can
endure. Poor Dmitri, you are being sorely tried ! But what
about me, who must witness your suffering and know that
I am the cause of i t ?
Three hours later. I cannot p u t my thoughts in o rder;
my spirit is turbulent, as after a storm, and the waves do
not subside. The blood pounds in my temples and my
heart beats so hard that I try to stop it by pressing my
hands to my chest. D mitri ! Are not yo u ashamed to
misunderstand me so terribly ? And what suffering it costs
yo u ! Help him, dear God, help him ! Dear Go d, help
him ! My head is so hot and muddle d ! Could it be a
return o f the fever ? I spoke with Dmitri, I demanded an
e x p l a nat ion of his despondency , his behaviour, his
re marks ; he has lost faith in me, he will never understand
what I feel, and t hat is terri fying for I can change nothing.
Dark clouds have settled over us. Something inside my
chest flutters painfully. Why , oh why did I ever meet
·

Wald e mar?
June 26. People do mix things up in the queerest
fas hio n ! So metimes one does not know w he ther to laugh
or to cry . It suddenly o ccurred to me to day that the most
self-sacri ficing love is the most extreme e goism, that humi­
lity an d resignation are the worst kind of pride, are jn fact
cruelty in disguise. Such thoughts frighten me, as I was
frightened as a child and tho ught myself a monster for not
being able to love Glafira Lvovna and Alexei Abramovich.
What am I to do, how protect myself from my th o ughts?
But why should I ? I am no longer a child. Dmitri does not
blame me, does not rebuke me or make dem ands upon me;
he has become even more tender to wards me. Even more.
That even more indicates so m ething artificial, something
false , be speakin g his pride and my humiliatio n and
yawning depths o f misunde rstanding ! He su ffers to be
sure, but does the wo m an who is punished for her love
suffer less? God knows I never desired this. I spoke more
openly to Dmitri than another woman would have done ;
he gives the appearance o f relenting, but at the same time
other feelings pile up within him and he is unable to cope
with them.
june 2 7. His dep're ssion has b eco me hopeless desp air.
He u sed to ex perience a few moments of relief after our

247
unhappy talks. This is true no longer. I do not know what
to do. I am distraught . It took a gre at deal to drive t h at
timid man to despair, and I h ave done it, I have been
unable to preserve h is love. He n o longer beli eves me when
I s ay I love him. He is doomed. I f only I could die now­
now, now ! I f i t could b e now !
I b egin to despise myself. The worst thing o f all, and
the most incomprehe nsible, is that I suffer no p angs o f
conscien ce, I have dealt a m ortal blow to a man who has
dedicate d his wh ole life to me and whom I love , and the
only thing I feel is my own misery ; surely it would b e
easier i f I considered mysel f a culpri t , then I could throw
mysel f at his feet, encircle his knees with my arms and
restore myself in his eyes by repent ing. Rep ent ance
removes all stains fro m the soul . He is so kind-heart ed he
wo uld s urely forgive me and we , who have undergone s uch
suffering for e ach other's sake, would be happier th an ever.
What is this accursed pride that refuses to ad mit repen­
tance into the heart ? How I wish I could go away to some
distant spot all alone-no, I would take Yasha with me. I
would walk among p eo ple I did not kno w and gradually
my strength would come b ack. Po or Dmitri , you can find
no means of reco nciling yourself to what has hap pen ed ;
oh, my dear, I would give anything, the l as t drop o f blood
in my veins, to make you understand me-to mak e you
wan t to understand m e. What relief it would b ring you !
You have fallen victim to your exultant lack o f under­
standing, and I must fall along with you be cause I love
you, and because in fernal forces h av e chosen me to b e the
cause o f your down fall. So metimes I feel it would e ase me
to exchange a word or t wo with Walde mar, but I am afraid
to seek an opport unity to speak to him. What irremediable
harm gossip has done ! It has put fe ar even into me and
has sullied a feeling t h at was pure and noble. May God
forgive those responsible. In a roundab out way Dr. Krupov
read me a lecture. Dear good Dr. Krupov ! I felt s o sorry
for him ; without understanding anything, he spoke ab out
the sacred duties of a mother. Did it n ever occur to him
that I too may have given consideration to this m atter?
Co mpassion can b e more o ffensive than a snub. Why
should a person think frie ndship gives him the right to drag
a friend to the whipping-post, then force him to t ak e his

248
counsel, however repugnant it may be? Ho w petty it all
is ! As stifling as a s mall ro o m with closed windows and
flies swarming in the air !

If B eltov had never come t o this little provincial town,

the modest K.rutzifersky family would have enj oyed many
quiet peaceful years, but this is no consolation; I myself
have so metimes thought, on passing a house destroyed by
fire, with window- frames b lackened by smoke, ro of caved
in, chimneys stark against the sky: if the spark had not
flown an d been fanned into flame t his house would have
sto o d for many years, gay dinners and parties would have
been given in it, and now it is but a heap of ruins.
Our sto ry has practically come to an end; we could put
down o ur pen an d leave the reader to answer the question:
Who is to blame? But there are still a fe w details we find
of some interest ; allow us to recount t hem to you. First we
will go back to poor Krutzifers ky.
Soon after his wife's illness, K.rutzifersky noticed that
she seemed to have something on her mind ; she was
pensive and uneasy and her face expressed more strength
and pride than formerly . Odd and unlikely explanations
suggested themselves to him ; he laughed them off but they
always came back.
Once when Lub a was sitting with Yasha there came a
knock at the front door and a voice asked " Are they in? "
"Beltov," said Krutzifersky lifting his eyes ; he ob served a
slight flush pass over Lub a' s face and her glance became
suddenly animated, and this animation was not for him.
He gave a little start but said nothing. He knew how
friendly his wife an d Beltov had become, and this in no
way surprised him. But this animation, and this flush ? Is it
possible? he asked himself, and b egan to observe them
more closely. Beltov began playing with Yasha, but what
tenderness and passion was in the lo o k he turned upon the
child 's mother !
One would have had to b e blind indeed not to see that
it was a look of love , of ardent love, even of requited love.
She stoo d with lowered eyes, her h ands were quivering
slightly, she see med to be happy in the highest degree.
After murmuring a few words K.rutzifersky withdrew into
another room. Is it possible ? he kept asking himself in

17-171 249
terror. There was such tumult in his head and such a
roaring in his ears that he had to sit down o n the bed. For
some five minutes he sat there without a single thou6ht in
his mind, conscious only of his wretchedness. He went
back into the room and found them talking together so
amiably, with such a sense of kinship, that he felt his
presence was an intrusion. He paced the floor recalling
various trifles that had hardly drawn his attention at the
time but which now ranged themselves in his memory as
confirmation of his suspicions. When Beltov took his leave
she saw him to the door and smiled at him-with what a
smile ! " Yes, she is in love with him." No sooner had he
put the thought into words than he rejected it, but it
insisted on asserting itself; he was seized by black and
insane despair. " So this is what my premonitions mean t !
What am I t o d o ? To think that y o u should no longer love
me ! " He tore his hair and bit his lips and suddenly there
burgeoned in his soft and tender heart a power of hating,
envying, taking vengeance, doing evil. He found the
strength to s upress it. Night came. He longed to weep b ut
no tears would come. Sleep closed his eyes for brief mo­
ments, but he kept waking up in a cold sweat ; he dreamed
of Beltov, whom he saw leading Luba by the hand and
looking at her with eyes brimming with love ; and she went
with him, and he realised it was for good. Again he saw
Beltov, and she was smiling at him , and it was all so
terrifying that Krutzifersky got up. Day was dawning; she
was still sleeping and her face was calm. Faces in sleep
sometimes have a peculiarly touching beauty ; this was true
of Luba's face at this moment. Suddenly a smile came to
her lips; " She is dreaming of him," thought Krutzifersky,
and he looked at her with such hatred , such bestial ani­
mosity that had he not been imbued with the pacific
habits of our times he would have throttled her with the
savagery of the Moor. But tragedies are not bro ught to
such a violent end in o ur country. " So this is the return
she makes me for my boundless love ! My God, my God !
For such love ! " He was caught i n a struggle to free
himself of his thoughts and his appalling temptatio n. He
went over to his son' s bed. Yasha was sound asleep, his
limbs sprawling, one hand under his cheek. " Yo u will soon
be fatherless," thought Krutzifersky as he gazed down at

250
him. " Po or little Yasha ! I am your father no more, I
cannot and will not go o n suffering so. Poor child ! I
commit you into the hands of Hi m who watches over the
fatherless. How like . her he is ! " and he burst into tears.
The tears , the prayer, and the sight o f the peace ful child
brought him some relief; other thoughts presented them­
selves to his contrite mind : " Am I right to accuse her?
Was i t of her own free will s he fell in love with him? And
he . . . I mysel f am al most in l ove with him ." And our
exalted dreamer, who had su ddenly turned into a husb an d
crazed by jealousy and thirsting fo r revenge, now resolved
to accept the martyrdom of silence. " Le t her be happy, let
her see what self-sacrifice my love is capable of; I want
nothing b ut to see her, to know that she exist s ; I will be a
friend and a bro ther to her. " He wept with tenderness , and
he found co nso lation in his reso lution to undertake so
great a feat, so enormous an act of self-s acrifice , and he
was comfo rted by the hope that s he would b e touched by
his magnanimity . But this lasted only so long as he was
upborne on a wave o f s piritual ecstas y ; in the following
two wee k s he fell exhausted under the burden he had
undertaken to carry.
We shall not pass judgement on him ; such acts o f
righteous self-abnegation are unnatural and belong t9 the
realm o f fancy rather than reality. His resolution lasted
only a few day s ; the first though t that undermined his
heroism was : " She thinks I see nothing, she is cunning, she
is putting up a false front." Of whom did h e think thi s ?
O f the woman h e loved a n d e steemed and ought t o have
known-but did not kno w ; soon the anguish gnawing at his
vitals so ught an outlet in words , for words always o ffer
reli e f, and this le d to exp lanations which he c ould no t stop
and which Luba did not wish to stop. Life became unbear­
able afterwards; he avoided b eing alone with her, but their
sec luded life threw them toge ther most of the tim e . He
tried t o give himsel f up to his studies, but he could not
make himself read; i f he forced his eyes to follow the
letters his imagination went o ff at a t angent, e voking me­
mories o f the happy past, so that o ften th e page of some
scholarly treatise was wet with h is tears. An emptin ess
grew within him, expanding with every hour and making
li fe unbearable. He sought distraction s. We have seen from

1 7* 25 1
Lub a' s j ournal in what state he returned from th e p arty at
his friend Medusin 's house on St. J ohn's day .
A s a relie f from these s ad p ages, let u s e nter up on a
learned discussio n with Medusin, but in order to do so w e
must first make his acquaintance. This acquaintance wil l
pro ve s o delightful that w e shall devo te a new chap ter to
it.

Chapter VI

Ivan Afanasievich Medusin, teacher o f Latin and o wner

o f a private school, was a splendid man who in no w ay
resembled Medusa-neither outwardly, b ecause he w as
bald, nor inwardly, b ecause he was not fi lled with venom
but with liquor. He had been nicknamed Medusin as a
semin ary student because, in the first p lace , he h ad to b e
nicknamed something, and in the second b ecause in those
days the hair of this future scholar stood out in all dire c­
tions and was of the quality of steel wire ; alas, the de struc­
tive force of time had done its work . The seminary gave t o
Ivan Afanasievich not only a pleasant mythological nick­
name but also an education so durable that it usually
las ted its recipients to the grave and branded them with
that unique mark that makes seminary graduates distingui­
sh able in any walk of life. Medusin's m anner was anything
b ut aristocratic: he could never resist b eing familiar with
his students, nor could he re frain from introdu cing words
into his conversation that are rarely used in good society .
Ivan Afanasievich was fifty years old. After sp ending some
years as a tutor in vario us families , he opened his o wn
scho ol. One day. one of his scho olmasters named Kafer­
naumsky , also a seminary graduate and a m an who h ad
been sweating without cease from the day o f his birth
(when the weather was th irty b el ow z ero h e k e p t m o pping
his brow; when it was thirty above his face disso lved int o
o n e b i g puddle) , o n e day, as I was saying, this Kafe m a­
umsky met Ivan Afanasievich in the classroom and s aid for
all t o hear:
" I f I am not mistaken, Ivan A fanasievich, y our n ame-

252
 Alexander Herzen.
Photograh made by Levitsky , Paris , 1 8 6 1 .
Alexander Herzen 's children, Alexander and N atalia.
Daguerre ? type of the beginning of the 1 8 50s.
day is at hand. I trust we are to celebrate it this year in
accordance with your delightful custom? "
"We shall see, sir, we shall see," replied Ivan Afana­
sievich with a chuckle, for he had decided to mark the
occasion this year on a much grander scale than he had
done in former years.
In a household way, Ivan Afanasievich was not what
you might call "established". Although he had lived in this
town for fifteen years without ever leaving it, one might
think he had just moved into it and had had no time to
make himself comfortable. This was owing less to mean­
ness than to a total ignorance of the requirements of a
respectable household. Now that he had decided to enter­
tain on a grand scale, he reviewed his possessions: it turned
out that he owned six teacups, two of which had become
tumblers by the loss of their handles, and three saucers, a
samovar, a few plates with a tendency to rock on the table
because his cook had bought them cheaply as damaged
goods, two stemmed glasses which he called vodka-glasses,
and three cracked clay pipes smeared inside to keep out
draughts. That was all. And he had invited all his school­
masters. After pondering the situation for some time, he
summoned his cook Pelageya.
Pelageya was the wife of a doughty soldier who had
left to serve his country within a week after their wedding
and had never since found time either to return home or
announce his death on the battle field, thereby leaving Pe­
lageya in the ambiguous position o f a widow with strong
suspicions that her husband was still alive. I have a thou­
sand reasons for believing that this tall, fat Pelageya
adorned with warts and bushy black eyebrows and with
her hair tied up in a kerchief, was mistress not only of
Medusin's kitchen but of his heart as well, but I shall not
publish my reasons for this assumption, believing, as I do,
that the secrets o f private lives ought to be held
sacred.
Pelageya appeared and Medusin explained his difficul­
ties to her.
"The devil's playing tricks with you ! " exclaimed Pela­
geya. " And you such a learned one ! No more sense have
you got nor a puling babe ! Asking all them people here
when I can't get ten kopeks out o f you for laundering.

25 5
 ours elve s, li ke we was
Wha t's us to do no w? Disgrace
b eggars ? "
y, "do
" Pel ageya, " said Ivan Afanasievic h perem ptoril
d ay with
not try my patien ce ! I would celebrate my name-
I to lerate
my frien ds and, so wishin g, s o will I do ; nor wil l
a woman' s interf erenc e ! "
Cicero 's influe nce on this speech is cle ar, but Pelage ya
to
was too upset by the announ cemen t of th e celeb ration
think of Cicer o.
" Have no fear, I will hold m y tongu e ; throw your
money out of the windo w i f that' s what you likes. Give
."
me fifty rubles and I will buy every thing but the drinks
P elageya knew only too well how dis tastefu l Medu sin
would find her words, so, with gre at dignity, she reste d an
elb ow in the palm of one hand and her cheek in the pal m
o f the o ther and calmly awaited his reply.
" F ifty rubles on that flumm e ry ? Are you . . . have you
gone o ff your chump ? Fifty rub le s without drinks ! What
nonsense ! You are a stupid woman ! Is that all you can
o ffer when I come to you for advice ? Go this minute to
Father Ioanniki and invite him to come on the
twenty- fourth and ask him to lend us dishe s fo r the
evening. "
" Going b eggin g for dishes-a fine thing! " .
" Pelagey � ! Ar� �ou acquain ted with that obj e ct? "
asked Medusm, pomtmg to a stou t s taff standing in th e
corner.
B � ing well acquainted with i t, Pelageya turned b ack to
the kitchen , put on her cloak, tied a silk scarf over her
kerchie f and , mu ttering to herself set out for Father
�
Ioannik i's house. Medusin sat down t his wri ting-table an d
spe? t an h<;mr or �o in deep meditation, at the e nd o f
which h e seized a piece o f paper and wrote-commentaries
to the A eneid I suppose you are thinking? - noth in g of the
sort. This is what he wro te :

1. Russian grammar and logic . . . . . . . dn'n ks a lo t.

2. History and Geography . . .
3. Pure Mathematics .
4. French· . . . . . . . .
5. German . . . . . . . . .
6. Drawing and Orthography
. . . dn'nks quite a lo t.
. . . . . drin ks little.
. only wine, b u t a lo t of it.
. a lo t of b eer.
. . . . . . . . only liqueurs.

256
7. Greek * . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . drinks every thing.
Having listed this anthropological data, Ivan Afana­
sievich wrote a programme suiting it:
1 pail of Sauterne wine 16 rubles
"
1/2 pail liqueur .. . . . 8
1/2 pail beer . . . . . . . 4 "
2 b o ttles of mead . . . . 50 kopeks
1 0 b o ttles of Sudak wine 1 0 rubles
3 b ottle of jamaica rum . 4 ,
1 b ottle of sweet vodka . 2 " 50 kopeks
To tal: · 45 rubles
Medusin was pleased with the result-not too expensive
and plenty to drink. In addition he assigned a goodly sum
to buying tobacco, ham, caviar, lemons, herring, fish for
p ies, and mint cakes (the latter a luxury rather than a
necessity ).
The guests gathered at six in the evening. By nine the
s�eat was pouring like rain off of Kafemaumsky ; by ten
the geography master went into peals o f laughter while
discussing with the French master the death of the latter's
wife, without understanding what was funny about the
decease of so esteemed a woman ; even more remarkable
was the in ability of the French master, the inconsolable
widower, to keep from j oining in his friend's laughter even
thqugh he had imbibed nothing but dry wine. Medusin
offered a good example to his guests: he drank unceasingly
and indiscriminatingly-everything Pelageya put on the
table : beer and punch, vodka and Sauterne, even mead, a
whole glassful, although there were only two b ottles of
mead on the table. Encouraged by their host's example ,
the guests did their best t o keep up with him. Krutzifersky
alone (who had been invited for the hon our of his pre­
sence, he being one of the most eminent of the town's
scholars ) took no part in the general noise and excitement;
he retired to a comer, where he sat smoking his pipe. At
last the host's sharp eye spied him out.
"What's this? Surely you will have some punch and
lemon, Dmitri Yakovlich? Come, come, sitting there with

* Ori gi nally I had " The Priest who teaches the Bible " but the

censor changed it to " The Greek master".-A . Herzen

25 7
such a long face ! Not drinking yourself and sp oiling o ther
people's enjoyment ! "
" You know I do no t drink, Ivan Afanasievich. "
" I know no such thing, sir, and d o not want t o know
it. Whether yo u drink or not, when in the company o f
your friends you are oblige d t o drink, and to j oin in our
friendly conve rsation. Pelageya, give h im a glass of p un ch ,
and see that it is strong ! "
This last remark in all p robab ility derived from Kru tz i­
fers ky's refusal to h ave a weak drink.
Pelageya brought him a glass of punch in which a p ie ce
of le mon lay in a drunken stupor, and in wh ich a few
spo onfuls of b oiling water had disappeared without a
trace. Krutzi fers ky accepted it to app ease his host and in
the hope he would be able to dispose of two-thirds o f it
through the open window; this , however, p roved not so
simple since Medusin, who had found a sub stitute for him­
self at the card table, came and s at down b eside Kru tz i­
fers ky.
"I am greatly obliged to y ou, Dmitr i Yakovlich , that's
what I am, sir, greatly obliged, because a y oung m an o f
your age and sitting home under lock and key all the time
-oh, I know you've got a young wife there but s till y ou
ought to get out in comp any sometimes, y 'know . Here ,
Dmitri Yakovlich, let me kiss you for coming," and
without waiting for permis sion and despite his smelling
lik e a pub on Saturday night, he implante d his th ick lips
on Krutzifersky's cheek, and the next m oment Krutz i­
fersky found himself embraced by Kafemaumsky , stream­
ing with sweat. Eager to mop his face without o ffending
his brother in the cause of enlightening the y outh, Kru tzi­
fers ky retired to another comer and took out h is hand­
kerchief. Nearby , with their b acks to h im , stood the in­
consolable widower, who was the French m aster, and
Gustav lvanovich, who was the German master. By this
time Gustav Ivanovich was filled with beer to h is finger­
nails and was sucking on a clay pipe with a quill. Neither
of them noticed Krutzifersky and went on talking in an
undertone. It goes without saying that Krutz ifersky h ad n o
desire t o e avesdrop, b u t the sound o f Beltov's name
spoken rather loudly and in conjunction with his own
m ade him wince and prick up his e ars.

258
 "Ze old story," the Frenchman was saying, "Eef Adam
wear no horns eet ees because he was ze only man in
Eden."
"J a, ja," put in Gustav Ivanovich. "J a, ja. That Peltov,
he is Don Schuan, sure ! " A minute or so later (the time
required for the German to get th e point of the French­
m an' s joke ) he burst into loud laughter. The German's
delight in having got the point was expressed by his saying
gleefully as he removed the chewed-up quill mouthpiece
from his pipe, "Ich habe die Pointe sehr gut! "
But the point was appreciated less by Gustav Ivanovich
th an by a gentleman who had scarcely heard it: by Krutzi­
fersky. What was the meaning of placing these two names in
juxtaposition ? Was it possible that the horrible secret he
dared not admit even to himself had become comm on gossip?
Or perhaps he had misunderstood? Was that what they
had said? It was indeed. See, there they were standing on
the same spot and Gustav Ivanovich was still guffawing.
Krutzifersky felt as if something had snapped in his chest
and it was filling up with blood and the blood was rising
higher and higher and would soon gush out of his mouth .
He felt dizzy and lights danced in front of his eyes and
he was afraid to meet anyone's glance and thought he
must surely fall . He leaned against the wall. Suddenly
a heavy hand seized him by the sleeve. He started-what
next?
" Oh, no, my dear sir, an honest man d oesn't do such
things, " said Medusin, holding Krutzifersky's sleeve in one
hand and a glass of punch in the other. "No, my friend,
don't think y ou have escaped by hiding here in the comer.
My rule is : take it or not, as y ou like, but once y ou have
taken it-drink it up ! "
Krutzifersky spent a long moment staring and pon­
dering, much as Gustav lvanovich had done when trying to
grasp the Frenchman 's joke, and when at last he had
a vague idea of what was demanded of him he swallow­
ed down the drink in one gulp and burst out laugh­
mg.
"There's an honest man for you! That 's what I like!
And you said you didn't drink! Come, Dmitri Yakovlich;
come Dmitri, another glass ! Pelageya," called Medusin as
he fished the slice of lemon out of Krutzifersky's glass
25 9
with a solicitous finger. "More punch and eve n s tronger.
Will you drink it? "
" I will. "
' ' B ravo ! Bravo ! "
Medusin would have kissed Krutzifersky in rapture h ad
his mouth no t been full of lemon, which he chewed up­
rind, pips and all- offering by way of explanation : "Wan t
something sour-once the fou ndation i s l aid . "
The punch was brough t and Kru tz i fe rsky downed i t
like a glass of water. No one noticed the death ly p alene ss
o f his face and the trembling of his blue lip s, p erh ap s
because the guests fou nd everything quivering an d going
round in circles by this time.
In the midst of all this jollity the ti reless Pelageya
brought in a tray holding a decanter and wine-glas ses, then
a platter o f salted h erring sprinkled with onion s. The h er­
ring was sliced but h ad got b een stripped o f rib s and b ack­
b one, and .this len t it a peculiar p iquancy . The card game
en ded in small winnings an d big arguments. Medusin was a
winner and so in h igh spirits .
"Enough , e nough ! " he cried out. "Let 's leave this and ,
with God' s blessing, s ample the cantafresco . " .
I van Afanasievich insis ted on calling l iqueurs "can ta­
fresco" for a reason unknown to me but which I su ppose
to s p ring from sound Latin sou rces.
The guests gathered round the table.
" D mi tri Yakovlich ! Surely you will n o t decline a glass
of can tafresco ! "
" I surely will no t, " replied Kru tz ife rsky, and th e next
moment gulped down an enormous glassful of liqueur
spoil e d by the addition of various herb s repulsive to th e
taste but good for the stomach, or at le ast so s ay th e
gullible ones.
The guests went into rap ture s . Next Pelagey a brough t
in a fish pirog oC gigantic size -bu t I b elieve w e all are
su ffic iently acqu ain ted with the B al thazarian n ature o f
feasts such as the one Medu sin gave o n his name-day , and
this relieves me of the necessity of de scrib ing it further; I
can only assure the reader that it p ro ceeded alo ng the s am e
lines o n which i t had begun.
On the followin g day Krutz i fe rsky h ad a long talk with
Luba. Once more she so ared in his regard, soare d to un at-

260
tainable heights ; ah, he could unders tand and app re ciate
her ! And ye t . . . some thing stood b etween them and h e
was crushed b y the knowledge that people were gossiping
ab ou t them . He did not tell he r this ; it was h ard for him to
tell he r anything now, so he hurried o ff to the Gymna­
sium. Reaching it before the preceding master had finished
his less on, he stood at a window of the recreation h all.
How re cently had he gazed calmly out of this window,
how recently been the happiest man on earth, whose only
desire was to hasten home ! Now all was changed: he
lon ged to run away from ho me. Yet he was overwhelm ed
by her s trength and greatnes s; he realised she was suffering
as much as he was b u t she hid her su ffering out of love for
him. " Love for me ! Do es she love me? Is it p ossib le to
love a l o g barring one's p ath to happiness? Why could not I
have hidden from her my knowledge of everything? If I
had b een more tactful she would not have suffered so, and
I would have done all in my power to secure her happiness.
What am I to do now? Ru n away, run away ! Where to ? "
H e was interrupted b y Kafernaumsky, who obviou sly
had n o t en tirely re covered from the excesses o f the night
before :, His eyes were red and encircled by puffy rings like
the mo on on a fros ty night, and grey blo tches had b roken
out on his nose and chee ks. .
" Greetings, re spected colleague," he said , wiping .the
sweat off of his face . " Your head cracking open too? "
Krutzifersky made no reply.
" As for me, I feel half dead.
Hast thou seen the wreck of the ship ?
Thou hast seen it- the wreck o f my life. . . .
Wh at d o you think o f our Medusin? How the old dog
did let loos e ! And you, Dmitri Yakovlich, have you
b rought yourself round? Have you had a little something
to clear your head ? "
" What do you mean ? "
" I'll s how you what I mean . I see you are a n ovice .
Come home with me ; I live nex t door.
I hope you will come
For a taste of my rum . " .

Krutzifersky accepted the invitation. Why? He himself

could not have s aid why. Instead of rum he was o ffere d
liqueur, and on drinking it discovered it raised his sp irits ;

261
nothing could h ave been more welcome at th is tim e , bein g
as he was i n the throe s of black despair.
Shortly afte r ten o ' clock in th e m orning Dr. Krupov
was p acing the floor of the small h all in Inn Keresb erg. His
face wore a look o f grim concentration. In five m inute s the
door of Beltov ' s room opened and Grigori came out with a
brush in his h and and a coat over his arm .
" S till sle epin g, I suppose ? "
" He h as j ust wake d up, sir, " rep lied G rigori.
" Tell him I am here and must speak to h im . "
" Se myon lvanovich ! " c alled out Be ltov. "Semyon
Ivanovich ! Pray come in , " and Be ltov himself ap p e ared in
the doorway.
" C an you sp are me half an hour? "
' ' The whole day i f you wish it , " replied Beltov.
" Am I no t interfering? I u nderstand you b usy y ourself
with p olitical economy in the m ornings , do you not? "
The old man made n o e ffort to hide h is s arcasm .
" You got up early this morning, b ut out of the wrong
side of the b ed I fear, " observed B eltov, accep ting th e old
man ' s tetchiness as meekly as p ossible .
" I got out on the side I chose to . "
" Do come in , " s aid Beltov with a gesture towards the
d oor.
Krupov entered without speaking, the n :
" Vladimir Petrovic h ! " H e tried t o pre se rve a co ol,
calm mien but did not succe ed . "I have come not on th e
spur o f the moment, but after long deliberati on. It is h ard
for me to tel l you the bitter truth , but it w as no e asier for
me when I dis covered it. I've been sadly let dow n in my
old age ; I made an error of judgement in re spect to a
certain person that would have been inexcusab le in a six­
tee n-ye ar-old b oy. "
Beltov stared at the d octor in astonishment.
" O nce I've begun , I will go o n calling a spad e a spade
with the fortitude o f a M acedonian soldie r ; what comes o f
it is n one of my b usiness ; old as I am , n ob o dy h as ever h ad
re ason to call me a coward, and out o f cowardice I wil l
nev er call behaviour go od that I kn ow to b e b ad . "
"Just a mome nt, Semyon lvanovich. I am sure y o u are
not a coward and just as sure that y ou do n o t consider m e
a coward, but i t would b e most unfo rtunate i f the n ee-

262
essity arose fo r me to prove it to you, whom I so sin cerely
respect. I see that you are excited and therefore let us
agree not to resort to rudenes s under any circumstan ce s ;
rudeness has a strange e ffe c t on m e, i t makes m e forget all
the g o od quali ties o f the person who stoops to it; furth er­
mo re it never faci litates understanding, so let us come d i­
rectly to the point. F orgiv e me th is aviso. "
" Very well, sir, I will b e polite, extremely polite .
Allow me to ask you, Vladimir Petrovich, i f you are aware
o f th e fac t that y ou have ruined the happines s o f a family
which for four years gave me all the j oy I knew in l i fe, a
family which I l o oked up on as my own . You h ave des­
troyed it and m ade four people miserab le. I introduced
you to this family because I pitied you in y our lone line ss;
they accepted you as one o f them , th ey o ffered y ou
warmth and sympathy, and h ow did y ou repay them ? One
of these days the husband will h ang or drown him self-in
water or in wine is as yet uncertain-she wil l deve lop con­
sump tion (you can take my word for i t ! ), the child will b e
left an orphan t o b e brought u p by s trangers ; and, in case
you are unaware of it, let me tell you that y our victory h as
become the talk of the town. Allow m e to congratulate
yo u ! "
The good old man trembled with wrath as he pr� noun­
ced these last words. A mo ment later he added :
" Bu t perhap s all this means nothing to y ou- from y our
lo fty poin t of view. "
B eltov got up o ff the couch and began p acing the flo or
qu ickly. Su ddenly he came to a h alt in front o f th e do ctor.
" Who, p ray, h as given you the right to probe so rudely
and unceremoniously th e s acred precincts o f my heart ?
How do you know but th at I am twice as mise rable as
anyone el s e ? But I will ignore your rudenes s ; allow me to
speak now. What do you wish to know? Whether I love
that woman or not? Yes, I do love her. Yes, yes, let m e
repeat it a th ousand tim e s : I love her with e very fibre o f
m y b eing ! I love her, d o y ou hear? "
" Then why should you want to b ring about h er ruin ?
If you were a man o f feel ing, you would h ave stopped at
th e very beginning, you would not h ave allowed y our l ove
to be known. Why did y ou n o t leave their home? Why ? "
" You migh t put the que s ti on more simply : why d o I

263
go on living at all ? I have not the fain test idea. Perhap s for
the purpose of destroying that family, o f ruining the finest
woman I have ever known. It is easy for you to ask ques­
tions and p ass judgement. I d are s ay y ours was a slow­
b eating heart in y outh, otherwise you would b e stayed by
.
m emories. Very well , I shall answer your questiOns. I d o not
feel the need o f justifying myself- ! accep t no j udge oth er
than myself-but I do feel the need o f. speaking out; and
besides, you have nothing more to s ay to me, I h ave under­
stood you. You can only seek more and m ore o ffensive
forms in which to rep e at the same things. In the e nd th at
will exasperate b oth of us and I have no desire to challenge
you, if for no other reason than th at th at very woman h as
need of you . "
" Speak; I am re ady to listen . "
" I came here i n one o f the m o s t diffi cult p eriod s o f m y
life. I had stopped seeing m y friends ab road s o m e time
earlier; in Russia I found n ot a single p erson I felt close to ;
I saw some of my friends in Moscow-we n o longer h ad
anything in common. Th at only strengthened me in my
decision to come to this remote town . You know what
happened when I got here and what a pleasant life I w as
leading. Suddenly I met this wom an. You l ove and e steem
her, but you do not know her at all, any more th an y ou
kn ow me. You admired the j oy she took in her family, h er
love for her husband and child, and n othing else ; d o n ot b e
angry , there are moments when we mu st listen t o th e
bitter truth. Do not think it is p hy sical intim acy or simi­
larity of age that enables tw o people to open their he arts
to one another. Nothing of the sort ! Frequen tly p eople
who h ave lived t ogether for twenty years go to their graves
as strangers ; sometimes people l ove e ach oth er but h av e no
unders tanding of e ach oth e r ; kinship o f feeling, on th e
other hand, can r�veal one person to another in a trice .
Besides, y our tendency to moralise led you to l o o k d own
upon her from the heights, whereas I, astonished b y her
ex traordinary strength of character, b owed d own b e fore
her. Amazing creatu re ! What gift is it th at enab le s h er to
draw conclusions that it cost me half a lifetime to c ome to,
that I l ab oure d and suffe re d for and c onsidered s o n ovel
that I treasured the m as somethin g de arly b ought-what
gift is it, I say, that enables her to accep t these s ame con-

264
Alexander Herzen. Portrait in oils made by Herzen 's
daughter Natalia at the end of the 1 860s.
Paris. Rue Rivoli , in one of the houses of which Herzen
died on 2 1 January , 1 8 7 0 . Lithograph.

Monument of Herzen 's gra v e in i'\ice .

Erected in 1 8 7 2 .
 Ebl.JIOE H AYMhl

HCHA HdEP.A

TOM"!. TPET J ii •

•IOHAOH'b
BOJ LUAR PYCCKAII T B DOrPA4>1K.
1 .1 6 & 1 :1 8 C A L E D O II U !f R O .t. D 1 II ,

1 862.

Cover of Herzen 's m ajor work, "The Past and R eflec­

tions ", London , 1 8 6 2 .
Herzen's monument in front of Moscow Univer­
sity on Mokhovaya Street, Moscow , by sculptor
Nikolai Andreyev.
elusions as simple and self-evident, as the most ordinary
thin gs of li fe? I do not know. I have met many people and
sooner or later have tound the limit of each of them, the
gulf over which e ach is unable to leap ; I have never d is­
covered her limit. What moments of bliss I enjoyed on
those evenings we spent in convers ati on ! They fully re­
warded me for all the coldness I had met with before. For
the first time in my life I realised what love was, what
happiness was, and you ask why I did not put an end to it.
Your words sound foolish; I am not such a rational b eing.
And indeed there was no time to be ration al ; when I rea­
lised what had happened it was too late . "
" Will you n o t tell me, a t least, what your in tentions
are ? What is to happen now? "
" I have not thought ab out it and can tell you no­
thing."
" You are now confronted by the fruits of your
thoughtlessness. "
" Do you think I look unfeelingly a t these fruits, that it
is necessary for you to tell me ab out them? I realised
before you did that my happiness had dimmed, that the
period of poetry and delight had p assed, that this woman
was put on the rack-only because she is so far ab ove o ther
women. Dmitri Yakovlich is a good man and he loves her
madly, but his love is a mania; his love will ruin him, and
nothing can stop it; what is worse, it will ruin her too. "
" Do you expect him to remain indifferent to his wife's
loving another man ? "
" I have not said so. I suppose I expect him to do just
what he is doing; every nature is true to itself, especially in
moments of crisis. But do you know what he should not
have done? He should not have joined his life to that of a
woman of such strength o f character. "
" Unfortunately I s aid the same thing to him before
their marriage, but you must own it is too late to talk
about that now, and also that until your coming she was
happy."
" That could not have lasted, Semyon Ivanovich.
So oner or later the incongruity of their union would h ave
made itself felt. Why are you yourself so inconsistent? "
"What a pass ! Ah, me, it was not for n othing I always
warned of the perils of family life ! But I was a voice

269
crying in the wildernes s ; nobody lis tened to me. You at
least might show your sympathy-"
"What is it y ou want of m e ? After her i llness I noti ced
she was melancholy much of the time and he seemed to be
in a state of h op eless despair. I rarely went to see them
after that, as you know, but you do not kn ow what it cost
me; I alone know that. Time after time I sat d own to write
to her but I never did because I feared to cause her w orse
suffering; on the few occasions when I did go to se e them I
said h ardly a word. So what are y ou accu sing me of? What
do you want of me? I hope y ou have not com e here w ith
the sole purp ose of insulting me? "
" Vladimir Petrovich, show that y ou are a m an o f
strong will; I know what a hard thing I am asking o f y o u ,
and y e t I d o ask y o u t o m ake a sacrifice, a sup reme
s acrifice ; perhaps then we will be able to s ave this wom an .
Go away, Vladimir Petrovich . ' '
The old man's voice quivere d ; the h arshness w ent out
of it and was supplanted b y tenderness. He loved B e ltov.
Belt ov opened his writing-case, searched through the
papers in it and drew out an unfinished letter.
" Read it," he s aid.
The letter was to his mother, telling her o f his firm
purp ose to go ab road again in the immediate future .
" You see I am going. And y ou think this will save
her? " he asked with a sad shake of his head . "Good, k ind
Semyon Ivanovich ! "
' ' Wh at else can we do? " asked Krupov in d esp eration.
"I do no t know," replied Beltov. "I will w rite h er a
letter and bring it to you, Semyon Ivanovich ; do you p ro­
mise on your honour to give it to her? "
" I do, " said Dr. Krupov.
Beltov s aw the distressed old m an to the door.
He returned and threw himself on th e couch in a state
of pros tration; it was clear that his tal k with the doctor
had been a terrible b low to him , he could not s traighten up
after it, nor grasp its full meaning. For two hours he lay
with a o urnt-out cigar b etween his lips, then h e got up ,
took a sheet o f note-p aper and b egan to write . When h e
finished he folded i t , put o n his coat, t o o k t h e l e tter and
set out for th� doctor's house.
" Here is the le tter, " h e said. " Could you, Semyon Iva-

2 70
novich , arrange for me to see her fo r a minute or two in
your pre sence? "
" Why should y ou ? "
" It will do no harm. If you have th e slightest feeling
for me you will do it. "
" When are you leaving? "
" Tomorrow morn ing. "
" Be in the park at eight this evening. "
B eltov pressed his hand.
" Today I saw him in the most pitiable condition . "
" Enough ; I pray you not t o s ay another word, Semyon
Ivanovich . "
Pale, emaciated, with eyes red from weeping, Luba
walked with her arm in Dr. Krupov' s ; sh e was feverish and
the look in her eyes was dreadful to see. She knew where
s he was going and why. They came to the same b en ch and
sat down ; she was crying and held a letter in her h ands;
Semyon Ivanovich kept wiping away his own tears, unab le
even to utter edifyin g remark s .
Beltov came. All the b rightness had gone out o f his
face, leaving nothing but abysmal su ffering. He took her
hand. He seemed more dead th an alive.
" Farewell, " he said in a scarcely audible v oice . "I sh all
con tinue my wanderings, but our friendship and your
im age will follow me wh erever I go . It will com fort me in
life 's last moments. "
" You are going- for good ? "
He did not reply.
" God in heaven ! " she murmured. After a brie f p ause
she added in a whisper: "G oodbye, Waldem ar . " With that
her s trength seemed to increase tenfold, she got up and,
taking his hand, said in a strong cle ar voice : " Rem emb er,
Waldemar, that I love you without m easure . . . without
m easure, Waldem ar ! "
He did not stop her as she turned away, and she found
the courage to walk with a firmer s tep than th e one that
had b rought her here.
He stood watchin g them ; watched until her wh ite cape
flashed for the las t time among the birch trees. She did not
turn round. Beltov was left al one. " Is it p ossible that I
must leave her forever ? " he asked him self. He re sted his
head on his hands, shut his eyes, and for half an h our sat

271
there numb, obliterated by grief. Suddenly he h eard h is
name spoken. He raised h is head and had d ifficul ty in
recognising the counsellor-like face of the c oun sellor. Bel­
tov b owed stiffly.
"No doub t you have come here to indulge in mu sings
and ruminations, Vladimir Petrovich ? "
" Yes, and for that reason I prefer being alon e."
" I ndeed, what can a cultivated man find m ore wel­
come than solitu de ? " ob served th e c ounsellor, sitting
down beside him. " On the other hand, there is co mpany
that can be just as pleasant as solitude. ! j u st h appened to
meet Dr. Krupov with a very fetching little l ady on his arm . "
The mo men t the counsellor sat down Beltov got up
with the intention of going away, but these words deterred
him. The counsellor's mocking look p lainly indicated with
what intention he had spoken them ; most likely he h ad
come to the park by reques t of some Maria Stepanovna or
o ther.
"I am acquainted with the lady who is with Dr. Kru­
pov, " remarked Beltov in a voice quivering with rage.
" Oh, I am sure you are ! " laughed the counsellor in a
tone of familiarity. " You young men know all th e pretty
damsels. "
" You are either mad or a fool. In eith er case, good day
to you," and Beltov set o ff down th e p athw ay .
" How dare you say such a th ing to m e ? " cried o u t th e
counsellor, jumpin g up as red as a p oppy.
Beltov stopped.
"What do you wan t? " he asked. "To figh t a duel?
Very well; repulsive as it may b e, I accept your challenge.
If that is not what you want, then I warn you I have the
bad habit of driving away anyone wh o s tands in my p ath
wi th my walkin g-s tick . "
" What d o you _mean, with your w al kin g-stic k ? " asked
the counsellor. "Who are you to threaten me with your
walking-stick ? "
At any other time Beltov would h ave laughed immo­
derately at the absurd c ounsell or, but the agitation o f the
moment robbed him o f sel f-con trol and he dem onstrated
to the coun sellor what he m ean t. The c ounsellor was asto­
nished. Beltov strode away.
The next morning while Grigori p acked b ag s and m ade

272
 ready for their dep arture, Beltov walked up and down the
room; there was an emptiness in his head and chest, as if
half o f his life, h alf of his existence, h ad gone out of him,
and it was fearful, and painful, and set all his ne rves on
edge, and he was afraid the tears would come at any mo­
ment. A dozen times Grigori asked him questions and th e
only answer he re ceived was, " It's all the same," and it
really was all th e same to him which coat he wore and even
which road th ey took, the one to Paris or th e one to
Tobolsk.
Presen tly Dr. Krupov came in , an entirely different Dr.
Krupov from the one wh o had come on the p revious mor­
ning. There were marks of tears about his eyes, he came in
quie tly, wiped h is hat on h is sleeve, took up his post beside::
the window and re marke d to Grigori that one pin of the
donneuse seemed to be loose. In a word , he was not h im­
self.
" Are you satisfied with me, S emyon Ivanovich ? "
asked Beltov between laughter and tears.
"I was harsh with you yesterday ; I am sorry, forgive
me. If you go away like this . . . . "
The old man's voice trailed off.
" Come , come, that's all nonsense , Semyon lvanovich, "
and Beltov held both h ands out to h im.
" There is this .. . a little memento . . . I truly loved you
and want. . . " he held out a morocco case : " . . . want to give
you something that is very precious to me ."
Beltov opened the case, glanced up at the old doctor
and threw his arms about him. The doctor broke down and
kept muttering: " Can' t help laughing at myself . . . mu st
have softening of the brain .. . such foolishness . . . getting
maudlin in my old age. . . . "
Belt ov sat down and gazed at the case . It contained a
water-colour portrait of Luba.
Dr. Krupov stood beside him and, so as to convince
him that he had mastered his emotions, made the fol­
lowing commen tary as he covertly wiped his eyes:
" Two years or so ago an English painter came here, a
very good painter; he did large p ortraits in oils ; the p ortrai t
of the Governor 's wife that h angs in his office was p ainted
by this Englishman. I talked Luba into sitting to him-only
three sittings. Little did she think . . . . "

273
 Beltov was not listening to him, so it made little d if­
ference that the commen taries were suddenly in terrupte d
by the inn-keeper's bursting into the ro om t o ann ounce
that the Chief o f Police was asking for B eltov.
"What d oes he wan t? " asked Beltov.
" He has something to say to y ou, sir. "
" Show him in. "
The Chie f o f Police came in with a great clan king o f his
sword ; through the half-open door could b e seen a waiter
and a skinny p olice serge an t keeping a respectful distan ce ,
the former overawed by the honour of h olding the Chie f's
greatco at.
Beltov got up, his entire figure asking a question that
needed no words: What the devil has b rough t y ou h ere ?
" I greatly regret that I must detain y ou a few minutes,
Vladimir Petrovich; you are, I p erceive, ab out to quit our
town ? "
" I am. "
" The Govern or has asked y ou t o come and speak to
him. Counsellor Y elkanevich h as sent a personal letter to
His Excellency in which he complain s that y ou in sulte d his
honour. I am ashamed to come on such a m atter- y ou
understand I am just fulfilling my duty ; it is my b u siness
to c arry out orders and noth ing else . "
" You could not have chosen a worse time . D o y ou
suppose he will detain me long? "
" That depends upon you ; Coun sellor Yelkanevich is a
gentleman, I do n ot think he will p rolong the matter if y ou
offer an explanation. "
" What is there to explai n ? "
" Up on my soul, what am I to do with y ou, Vladimir
Petrovich ? You understand nothing at all , " in te :rp osed
Dr. Krupov. " Here , i f you wish I will go with the Chie f o f
Police as yo ur dep uty and put an end t o the m atter in
fifteen minutes."
"I would b e much obliged i f y ou did, very much
obliged. "
" I do assure you," said the Chie f of P olice , " our m ost
sacred and rewarding obligation is to settle disp utes p eace­
fully and to the satisfaction of all p arties. "
And that is how it was done.
Within a fortnight a dormeuse was climbing the sam e

274
road over which , not so long b e fo re , a b arouche drawn by
four lively horses had galloped past the m ill on its way
from White Fields to the highro ad leading to town ; Grigori
was sitting on the b ox and the driver was urging the horse s
to pull together, adopting for this purp ose a language
sho rn o f consonants which he considered more acce ssible
to the creatures' understanding: "0-o-o-u-u-u-a­
a- ! " On the other side of the mill-stream stood an elderly
lady in a white cap and morning gown ; leaning on her
maid-servant's arm , she waved a han dkerchie f dre nched
with tears to a man who leaned out of the d onneuse and
waved b ack with his own handkerchief. The road m ade a
right-hand tum, after which only the b ack of th e veh icle
could be seen, and this, too, was soon blo tte d out by a
cloud of dust ; when the dust settled nothing was visible
but the road, yet the elderly lady remained s tanding there ,
s train ing up on her toes to catch a last glimpse .
Afte r that life a t White Fields be came empty and
cheerless for her; formerly Wal demar had come home once
a wee k or so; the jingle of harness bells as the carriage
came down the hill would bring her out on the b alcony
where once she had waited for her b ronzed b oy with the
bright and eager face to re turn from his walks. She felt
drawn to the town of X: it w as there th at th e woman lived
wh o was beloved by her son and was the unfortunate
victim o f her love for him . And so she moved into town
for the winter. She found Lub ov Alex androvna in a h ope­
less state, declining rapidly ; Dr. Krupov, who h ad become
twice as glum as ever before , would only sh ake h is head
when asked about her. Dmitri Yakovlich, overwhelm e d by
grief, praye d and drank. Beltov's mother as ked pe rmission
to attend the p atient and remained b y her bedside fo r days
on e n d ; there was someth ing deeply p oetic in the sight o f
this union o f declining beauty and splendid old age , e spe­
cially when the dying woman with en ormous gleaming
eyes and hair tumbling over her shoulders, supported her
head on her hands and with p arted lips and brimming e ye s
listened endlessly t o the tales the o l d m o ther told o f her
son, of their Waldemar, who was now far, far away .