-- 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT 
 
 From the Library of 
 
 Henry Goldman, Ph.D. 
 
 1886-1972

 
 AND THE 
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN 
 
 BY 
 
 IVAN GERGITEYITCH TURGENIEFF 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THB RUSSIAN 
 BY 
 
 GERSOJSTI 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FUXK & WAGNALLS, PUBLISHERS 
 
 10 AND 12 DEY STREET 
 
 1884
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
 
 FUNK & WAGNALLS, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D.
 
 Annex 
 
 MUMU.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 " I FINISHED my course of studies," says Ivan Sergeye- 
 vitch Turgenieff,* " in the faculty of Philology at the 
 University of St. Petersburg in 1837. In the spring of 
 1838 I went to Berlin to finish my education. 1 was 
 nineteen years old at that time ; I had been thinking for 
 several years of taking such a course. I was convinced 
 that in Russia one could acquire only some preparatory 
 information, but that the resources of a perfect educa- 
 tion were in foreign lands. Among all the professors at 
 the University of St. Petersburg at that time, there was 
 not one who could shake my resolution. They, how- 
 ever, had the same convictions that I had. Even the 
 Ministers of State entertained the same opinion ; Count 
 Uvaroff, who was Chancellor of State at that time, was 
 wont to send young men to finish their education in 
 German universities at his own expense. I studied at 
 Berlin for about two years. The subjects of my studies 
 were philosophy, ancient languages, and history ; I stud- 
 ied Hegel under Professor Berder with special zeal. 
 In order to show how deficient the instruction was at 
 the higher places of learning in St. Petersburg at that 
 time, I will state the following fact : "While I attended 
 at Berlin the lectures of Professor Zumpt on Latin 
 antiquities, and those of Professor Bock on the Greek lit- 
 
 *In the preface to his works published by Sulaeff Bros., Moscow, 
 1869, vol. i.
 
 6 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 erature, I had to gnaw at my Latin and Greek grammars 
 at home, so imperfect was my knowledge of the same. 
 And I had not been one of the worst students at home. 
 
 " The pilgrimage of Russian youths, of my class, to 
 foreign countries reminded one of the pilgrimage which 
 the leaders of the ancient Slavs made to the Yariags 
 across the sea. ' Our land (I speak of the moral and 
 mental state of the people of my country) is large and 
 productive, but there is no order therein.' I may say 
 of myself, that I felt very keenly all the disadvantages 
 of an alienation from my native clime, of the tearing 
 asunder of all the ties and connections by which I was 
 bound to that existence in which I had grown up. . . . 
 But I had no choice. That life, that society, that sphere 
 if such an expression may be used to which I be- 
 longed, the sphere of serf -holding landowners, contained 
 nothing that could hold me back. On the contrary, 
 almost everything that I saw around me aroused within 
 me a sense of annoyance, dissatisfaction, contempt. 1 
 could not long remain undecided. It was necessary 
 either to be resigned and to walk along with the rest in 
 the trodden paths, or to turn away at once and to push 
 aside everything and everybody, even at the risk of los- 
 ing much that was near and dear to my heart. I chose 
 the latter alternative. I threw myself head downward 
 into the ' German sea,'* which was to cleanse and re- 
 generate me. When I emerged from its turbulent 
 waves I found myself to be a ' Westerner, 'f and such I 
 always remained. 
 
 " 1 do not think of making reflections on those of my 
 
 * A favorite Russian expression for German education and culture. 
 H. G. 
 
 f A nickname for the adherents of Western civilization in contradis- 
 tinction to the Panslavonians. H. G.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 contemporaries who have arrived at the same liberty, at 
 the same knowledge as that for which I strove, by other 
 and less schismatic means. My desire is only to state 
 that I did not see any other way before ine. I could not 
 breathe the same air, I could not remain in the same en- 
 vironment with that which I abhorred ; I probably lacked 
 the courage, the required strength and tension of char- 
 acter for that. It was necessary for me to withdraw at 
 a distance from my enemy in order to be able to charge 
 the more forcibly against him from that distance. In 
 my eyes that enemy had a defined form and a name it 
 was ' the right of serf-holding. ' Under this inscription 
 I collected and concentrated all that against which I re- 
 solved to fight to the last, with which I swore never to 
 reconcile myself. This was my ' Hannibal's oath,' and 
 I was not the only one who made it at that time. I 
 went to the West in order to be enabled to fulfil it in a 
 better manner. I do not believe, however, that my 
 proclivities as a ' Westerner' have deprived me of all 
 sympathy with Russian life, of all understanding of 
 what Russia is and what she requires. ..." 
 
 This extract from Turgenieff's writing about the sym- 
 pathies and antipathies which animated him, and about 
 the principles upon which his works were based, gives 
 the best clew to an understanding of his labor. It is 
 obvious that the principal figures he endeavored to bring 
 forward on his canvas were the lowest and the highest 
 of Russian society the serfs and the nobles. The mid- 
 dle class, indeed, played but an insignificant part in Rus- 
 sian life. Turgenieff regarded the serf as a strong and 
 useful laborer, endowed with an instinctive sense of 
 morality, but living isolated from the world, and unable 
 to speak a word in his own behalf. The classes of 
 nobility, on the other hand, he considered as useless con-
 
 8 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Burners of the peasant's labor, to which they were en- 
 titled by the chance of birth ; as demoralized by affluence 
 and laziness ; as demoralizing all that came into contact 
 with them. He therefore heartily despised their bane- 
 ful " sphere," although he was born and brought up in it. 
 According to this view, I have endeavored to select 
 from his works, for translation into English, two 
 sketches which represent the essential thoughts of the 
 renowned author. " Mumu" and " The Diary of a 
 Superfluous Man" seemed the best adapted for this pur- 
 pose. In the former, Garassim personifies the Russian 
 serf in his natural state. The group of the household 
 servants of "her Ladyship," into which that gigantic 
 figure is brought, shows what becomes of him when he 
 is drawn into the environment of his master. " The 
 Diary of a Superfluous Man" shows the ultimate fate of 
 the noble classes, which are presented by the figures that 
 cluster around the hero, from the sparkling Prince in 
 service of the government down to the man who writes 
 his "Diary." The readers of TurgeniefFs works will 
 find that all his novels and sketches are only variations of 
 these two themes. The value of his other works, how- 
 ever, cannot be diminished by a knowledge of the prin- 
 cipal figures which he brings forward, for his keen psy- 
 chological penetration and his masterly touch upon the 
 strings of the human heart will always awaken sym- 
 pathy, no matter what the theme of his writing may be. 
 By a skilful grouping of the two elements he had in 
 his hands, Turgenieff always succeeded in propounding 
 new psychological problems and in exhibiting new phases 
 of human life. His works are poems on the human 
 soul ; his method is a most felicitous one. He does 
 not hold the interest of the reader by keeping him in 
 suspense, by taking advantage of his curiosity. By a
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 few bold strokes lie sketches the outlines of the figure 
 that he brings forward, of the picture he is about to 
 produce so plainly, that the reader knows forthwith 
 what the storj is going to be. Nevertheless that 
 reader is constrained to follow the artist as the lights 
 and shades of the picture are worked out, as the 
 minutest details in coloring and finishing are being 
 done. TurgeniefE is therefore always interesting, always 
 instructive. 
 
 Curiously enough, after the emancipation of the Rus- 
 sian serf (by an ukase of Alexander II. of February ] 9th, 
 1861), Turgenieff had not much more to say about that 
 subject of his sympathy. He made no further efforts in 
 behalf of the peasant, advocating means for his spiritual 
 elevation and education, or even for the amelioration of 
 his condition. With such things he had nothing to do ; 
 he was an artist and not a reformer ; his power consisted 
 in the perception of things that were, and not in conject- 
 uring that which should be. In the very year of the 
 emancipation of the serf in Russia, Turgenieff wrote his 
 " Fathers and Sons," and brought Bazaroff the Nihilist 
 upon the stage " a figure that had already existed in 
 the dim apprehension" (I use his own words) of the 
 people. It is perhaps not generally known that Tur- 
 genieff was the author of the term " Nihilist." He be- 
 stowed this title on the hero of " Fathers and Sous" in 
 a rather equivocal sense, as he did not know himself 
 whether he was in sympathy with that character or not. 
 But lie represented him as he perceived him ; he saw 
 him taking his place in the social history of Russia, and 
 could not leave that spot vacant on the canvas. Thus 
 he invented the term Nihilist as a name -for that which 
 he saw in existence, but the nature of which he did not 
 well understand. Turgenieff himself says on this sub-
 
 10 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ject ':* " I have never tried to ' create images,' if I had 
 no given point to start from, no idea or living subject 
 with which I could gradually connect and mix up other 
 elements. As I do not possess a great deal of the free 
 inventive power, I always needed some ground upon 
 which I could firmly stand." It seems that he did not 
 understand the Nihilist, nor had he any great sympathy 
 for him to the last. 
 
 In conclusion I will quote from the " History of the 
 Russian Literature, by. K. Petroff" (St. Petersburg, 
 1871), a paragraph in which the significance of Turge- 
 nieff in that literature is aptly sketched : 
 
 " Tnrgenieff may be called the principal representa- 
 tive and poet of that morale ancf that philosophy which 
 predominated in our educated society for the last score 
 of years. He quickly perceived the new requirements 
 and the new ideas that were introduced into our social 
 atmosphere, and in his works he invariably pointed, as 
 clearly as circumstances allowed, to the question at issue 
 which awaited its turn, and which had begun to trouble 
 society as a dim apprehension. To this perception, 
 to this ability of the author to respond immedi- 
 ately to every honorable thought and honest ' sentiment 
 which had just begun to claim the recognition of the 
 better classes of society, must be ascribed the success 
 which has always attended Turgenieffs works. Cer- 
 tainly, talent was required for that, too ; but talent was 
 not the principal thing. Turgenieff's talent was not of 
 that Titanic description which by the sole power of 
 poetical elan impresses you and takes hold of you and 
 draws you by sheer force to sympathize with a certain 
 manifestation or idea ; it is not a clamorous, powerful 
 
 On the subject of " Fathers and Sons," by Ivan Turgenieff, vol. 
 i. of his works, published by Suiueff Bros., of Moscow.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 11 
 
 appeal, but a soft poetical thoughtfulness which consti- 
 tutes the principal trait of his talent. Added to this, 
 there is the inexpressible charm of poetical description 
 in his narratives ; the delicacy of touch and depth of 
 psychological perception in the figures and positions he 
 describes. ' ' 
 
 I hope that these few remarks will contribute toward 
 a better appreciation of the works and talent of my re- 
 nowned countryman, whose demise the literary world 
 deplores since September 3d, and that my effort in trans- 
 lating the two sketches from the original (most of Tur- 
 genieff's works, I am sorry to see, were translated into 
 English from French or German translations, and have 
 thereby lost a great deal in pith, pathos, and significance), 
 which are offered in this volume, will be acceptable to 
 the English -reading public. HENRY GEKSONI. 
 
 NEW YOBK, October 26, 1883.
 
 MUMU. 
 
 IN one of the unfrequented streets of Moscow there 
 stood a gray house adorned with white pillars, an entre- 
 sol, and a balcony which was somewhat caved in by the 
 effect of time. An aged widow lady, surrounded by a 
 large retinue of servants and hangers-on, lived in that 
 house. Her sons were in service at St. Petersburg ; her 
 daughters were married out of the house. She seldom 
 made or accepted calls. In retirement she passed the 
 last years of her narrow and tiresome life, whose bleak, 
 unenjoyable day had passed, and whose eve was dark 
 and gloomy. 
 
 The most remarkable individual of that lady's house- 
 hold was a menial servant, Garassim by name. He was 
 six feet and five inches high, his constitution was pro- 
 portionally developed, and he was a deaf-mute from his 
 birth. He was the property of the lady, as all her other 
 servants were her serf. She took him out of her vil- 
 lage, where he had lived in a lonesome cot, isolated from 
 his mates, and where he had been considered as one of 
 the best serfs on socage work. Endowed with hercu- 
 lean strength, he could perform the labor of four ordi- 
 nary men ; his work melted away, as it were, under liis 
 hands. 
 
 It was pleasant to behold him performing his task. 
 "When he was guiding the plough in the field, pressing 
 on it with his large hands, he appeared to tear open the
 
 14 MUMU. 
 
 yielding breast of the earth by his own efforts, without * 
 the aid of the small horse that walked in front. When 
 in harvest time he wielded the scythe, it seemed as 
 though a forest of young birch trees would as easily 
 give way to his mighty sweep as did the yellow grain 
 stalks. When he was thrashing the harvest, the heavy 
 chain played easily and steadily under his muscular 
 arms, and the colt-staff went up and down in regular 
 strokes, as if impelled by its own good will. His con- 
 stant silence imparted a solemn earnestness to his work. 
 
 Garassim was an excellent serf indeed. Were it not 
 for his unfortunate defect, every girl in the village 
 would but too willingly have lent an ear to his wooing. 
 But the lady took him to Moscow. There he was 
 donned in boots and in a coat in the summer, and in 
 a sheepskin cloak in the winter time ; a broom and a 
 shovel were put into his hands, and he was constituted 
 the menial servant of the house. 
 
 Garassim greatly disliked his new position. From 
 childhood he was used to village life and to work in the 
 field. Isolated from communion with his mates by his 
 natural defect, he had grown up mute and strong, like an 
 isolated tree in a thrifty prairie. Being translated into 
 the city, he could not well understand what was going 
 on with and around him he was bewildered and shy. 
 Thus feels a young steer which is taken from the fra- 
 grant prairie where the succulent grass grew up to its very 
 head, and is put into a railroad car ; his huge body is 
 enveloped in clouds of steam, smoke, and sparks of h're, 
 and he is swiftly carried along with whistling, rattling, 
 and thundering noises. Where to ? Heaven knows ! 
 
 His new occupation appeared to Garassim like a 
 child's play after the hard work to which he had been 
 used. In a half hour he was through with his work for
 
 MUMTT. 15 
 
 the whole day. He would then either stand in the yard 
 staring at every one that passed by him as though he in- 
 quired for a solution of the problem he could not solve, 
 or he would fling his broom and shovel aside and lie 
 down on his breast in some remote corner of the yard 
 for hours and hours together, like a captured wild beast 
 in its cage. 
 
 But a human being can feecome used to everything ; 
 Garassim became accustomed to city life. His duty was 
 to keep the courtyard clean, to hitch up an old nag and 
 bring a barrel of water twice every day, to split wood 
 and carry it into the rooms, and to keep watch against 
 strange intruders. These functions he fulfilled regularly 
 and accurately. There was not a splinter of wood or an 
 unclean spot in the yard, and there was never a want of 
 fresh water or split wood in the house. If it happened 
 in the rainy season that the wheels of his water-barrel 
 stuck in the mud, one lift with his mighty shoulder was 
 sufficient not only to start it on the road, but even to 
 push on the old horse that drew it. 
 
 When he took to splitting wood, the axe chinked like 
 a piece of glass with his sure and regular strokes, and 
 chips or logs of required size fell in rapid succession 
 under it. 
 
 As to his work as a watchman, he once caught two 
 thieves and smote their heads one against the other so 
 
 o 
 
 mightily, that at the police station where they were 
 afterward taken, the authorities were unable to distin- 
 guish their features. The report of this feat soon spread 
 in the neighborhood, and since then not only thieves 
 but even honest individuals were afraid to intrude into 
 the house when his colossal figure was seen at the gate. 
 
 "With the other servants of the household Garassim 
 lived not on intimate, but on brief tenns, so to say ; he
 
 16 MUMU. 
 
 regarded them as belonging to the house. They would 
 show him by signs and gestures what was required of 
 him, and he would understand them and promptly fulfil 
 the orders. But he just as strictly guarded his own 
 rights. Heaven help the person who would presume to 
 occupy his seat at the table ! 
 
 He was of a strict and serious disposition withal, and 
 loved order in everything. - Even cocks would not dare 
 to fight in his presence ; if they did, woe unto them ! 
 "With one adroit sweep he would catch them one in each 
 hand, wheel them around by their feet in the air several 
 times, and throw them apart each into a different corner. 
 There were also geese in the yard. But a goose, as the 
 world well knows, is a dignified and thoughtful fowl. 
 Garassim respected the geese and took good care of 
 them ; he was himself very much like a wild gander of 
 the steppe. 
 
 He was lodged in a small room over the kitchen, which 
 he appointed according to his own taste and by his own 
 skill. He contrived for himself a bed of heavy oak 
 boards supported by four stfong blocks of wood, which 
 could hold five tons' weight without bending under it. 
 It was a couch for a giant. Under it stood his huge 
 box. In the corner by the window he placed a small 
 table of equally durable manufacture, and by the table 
 there was a stool on three legs, of which he seemed to 
 be particularly proud. When he was in a playful mood 
 he would pick up that stool and throw it down again with 
 a broad grin ; thus he was pleased with its indestructi- 
 bility. His room he kept locked with a padlock having 
 the shape of a peasant's wheat-cake, only it was black. 
 Garassim always carried the key behind his girdle ; he 
 did not like it that other people should pry into his pri- 
 vate apartment.
 
 MUMU. 17 
 
 A year passed after Garassim was brought to Moscow, 
 when he met with a sort of adventure. 
 
 The old lady, his proprietress, observed the ancient 
 aristocratic manners very accurately : she consequently 
 kept a large number of servants and retainers about her 
 person. There were in her household laundresses, seam- 
 stresses, a carpenter, a tailor, a turfman, who fulfilled 
 the duties of a veterinary surgeon and of a consulting 
 physician for the servants. There were also a footman 
 and grooms, a shoemaker, a house-physician for her 
 ladyship exclusively, and a number of other domestics 
 of various descriptions. The shoemaker, Kapiton 
 Klimoff by name, was a hopeless drunkard. He con- 
 sidered himself, however, as an exceptional being, whose 
 merits were not sufficiently appreciated, and who, by 
 virtue of his culture, deserved to occupy a position in the 
 residence, and not lie rotting away in a retired nest at 
 Moscow. If he drank a little too much, he asserted 
 with affectation, striking his breast, he did so out of 
 grief. 
 
 Now it happened that her ladyship once spoke about 
 this very individual to the steward of her household, 
 whose name was Gavrilo Andreyitch, and who, to judge 
 by his yellowish, twinkling little eyes, and by his nose, 
 which was formed like the bill of a duck, was just 
 created for the position he occupied. Her ladyship ex- 
 pressed regret at the degenerate morals of the cobbler, 
 who had been picked up drunk in the street the day pre- 
 vious. 
 
 " AVhat do you say, Gavrilo," she said suddenly, as 
 though a new inspiration had come upon her ; " would 
 it not be advisable to get him married ? Don't you 
 think that this would cause him to mend his ways ?" 
 
 " Why not get him married, your ladyship? This
 
 18 MUMU. 
 
 could be done, your ladyship. It might be very well to 
 do it, your ladyship,*' rejoined the obsequious steward. 
 
 "But who would take him ?" asked the lady. 
 
 " Certainly, your ladyship. . . . And yet, if it so 
 please your ladyship. . . . He can be good for some- 
 thing anyhow. In a dozen, so to speak, he may count 
 for one, your ladyship." 
 
 " I believe that he likes Tatiana," the lady said. 
 
 Gavrilo was going to make a remark, but he pressed 
 his lips together and said nothing. 
 
 "Yes," said the lady resolutely, taking a pinch of 
 snuff with apparent relish ; " yes, let Tatiana be wooed 
 for him. Do you hear me ?" 
 
 " All right, your ladyship," said Gavrilo, and bowed 
 himself out of her presence, she having waved her hand 
 as a sign of dismissal. 
 
 Having returned to his apartment, which consisted of 
 one room in the rear aisle of the building and was 
 crammed with iron-braced boxes, Gavrilo ordered his wife 
 out and sat down by the window in a thoughtful mood. 
 The unexpected order of his lady had apparently put him 
 in jeopardy. At last he shook himself up and ordered 
 the cobbler to be called. Kapiton Klimoff soon ap- 
 peared before him. 
 
 Before we continue telling what happened in Gav- 
 rilo's room, we deem it necessary to say a few words 
 about Tatiana, whom Kapiton was to marry, and why 
 the lady's order had so troubled the steward. 
 
 Tatiana was employed in her ladyship's laundry ; her 
 duty was to attend to the finest linen, as she had been 
 expressly educated for her occupation. She was a 
 woman about twenty-eight years old, of small propor- 
 tions, and very thin. She was of fair complexion, and 
 had a mole on her left cheek. Such a mark on the left
 
 MUMU. 
 
 cheek is considered in Russia as an evil omen; it prog- 
 nosticates an unfortunate life ; Tatiana, indeed, could 
 not boast of good luck. Since her childhood she was 
 kept among the underlings ; she worked for two, and 
 never had any kindness shown her. She was poorly- 
 clad, and received a very small stipend. Relatives she 
 had none to speak of. One of her uncles had once oc- 
 cupied the position of butler at the lordly mansion, but 
 he had been sent back to the village as unlit for that 
 post. Her other uncles had never been around the per- 
 sons of their noble proprietors. Oiice upon a time 
 Tatiana was considered as a beautiful woman, but she 
 had lost her beauty somehow. She was of a very quiet 
 or rather very shy disposition ; very indifferent to her- 
 self and greatly afraid of others. Her only thought was 
 to get through with her work in time. She never talked 
 much, and trembled at the mere mention of her lady- 
 ship, although the latter had hardly ever spoken a word 
 to her. 
 
 When Garassirn was brought from the village, Tatiana 
 nearly fainted for fright at the sight of his colossal figure. 
 She always tried to avoid him, and when she had to 
 pass him in the courtyard she would half close her eyes 
 and swiftly run by him. He at first hardly noticed her, 
 but afterward he smiled at her when he met her. 
 Later on he began even to look after her, and at last he 
 never took off his eyes from her. He conceived a lik- 
 ing for her ; whether it was for her mild features, or for 
 her shy and timid demeanor, who can tell ? 
 
 Once Tatiana walked through the courtyard with her 
 arm raised up cautiously, carrying a freshly starched 
 blouse of her ladyship on the tips of her fingers. She 
 suddenly felt her other arm in a tight grasp. She 
 turned around ; behind her was Garassim. She almost
 
 20 MCMU. 
 
 fainted for fright. With a broad grin on his face, and 
 uttering a whining sound, he presented her with a 
 honey-cake, which was shaped like a cock with gilt tail 
 and wings. She wanted to refuse it, but he forced it 
 into her hand and walked off, turning his head after her 
 several times and uttering his peculiar whine, which was 
 probably intended for some very graceful compliment. 
 
 Since that time the poor girl had no rest from him ; 
 whithersoever she went, he was by her. He often met 
 her on the way, smiling, whining, and nodding to her. 
 He would often pull out of his bosom a piece of gay 
 ribbon and force it into her hand. At times he would 
 walk ahead, sweeping the path before her with his broom. 
 The poor girl did not know what to do and how to deport 
 herself. Very soon all around the house knew about 
 the tricks of the deaf-mute menial servant ; smiles, 
 hints, and derisive insinuations were poured upon the 
 girl. But no one dared to make sport of Garassim ; he 
 liked no fun ; in his presence they would not dare even 
 to upbraid Tatiana. 
 
 Thus, whether she liked it or not, the girl found her- 
 self standing under his protection. Like all the deaf- 
 mute persons, Garassim was very shrewd, and he under- 
 stood it very well when he or his lady love was laughed 
 at. Once at the dinner table the forewoman began 
 throwing out remarks against Tatiana, and so annoyed 
 her that she nearly cried. Garassim noticed this. He 
 suddenly arose from his seat, stretched his sinewy arm 
 across the table, and putting his hand flat on the fore- 
 woman's head he bowed it down to the table and be- 
 stowed such a threatening look on her that she nearly 
 lost her senses. All the people at the table were terror- 
 stricken. 
 
 " Oh, the devil ! The very demon of the woods !"
 
 MUMTJ. 21 
 
 exclaimed the forewoman, and ran out of the room. 
 But he calmly resumed his seat and continued his meal 
 as though nothing had happened. 
 
 At another time he saw Kapiton, the same fellow for 
 whom Tatiana was now to be wooed, talking foppishly 
 to the girl. He motioned him by with his finger, took 
 hold of his arm, and led him out into the barn ; hold- 
 ing his man with one hand, he picked up a pole with the 
 other, and waved it gently in the cobbler's face, and 
 then he let him go. After that time no one dared to 
 upbraid or to make approaches to Tatiana, and, what is 
 more, Garassim had no cause to regret his rudeness. It 
 is true, the forewoman fainted in the girls' room after 
 she had run away from the table, and she made such a 
 fuss and with so much artifice that the rude deportment 
 of the menial servant was on that very day reported to 
 her ladyship. But the latter only laughed at the occur- 
 rence, and to the great annoyance of the forewoman, she 
 made her exliibit how the mute giant had laid his hand on 
 her head and pressed it down to the table. The next 
 day she sent him a gift of a silver ruble. 
 
 Indeed, her ladyship was kindly disposed toward the 
 strong and faithful Garassim. He, on the other hand, 
 was somewhat afraid of her, but he trusted in her kind 
 disposition. To all appearances, he prepared himself to 
 beg her permission that he should marry Tatiana. He 
 probably waited only until he should receive his new 
 frock, which had been promised him by the steward, in 
 ortler to appear before her ladyship in respectable attire. 
 Unfortunately, she had conceived the notion to marry 
 the girl to Kapiton. 
 
 It will now be understood why the steward was so 
 troubled about the order of her ladyship. " The lady," 
 so his thoughts ran while he sat at the window, " is cer-
 
 22 MUMIT. 
 
 tainly well disposed toward Garassim." (He knew 
 that, and for this reason he always treated him with 
 deference.) "But he does not possess the power of 
 speech, anyhow. Should I not inform her ladyship that 
 he courts the girl ? But, truly, what kind of a husband 
 would he make ? On the other hand, should he, the 
 demon God forgive my sins ! become aware that 
 Tatiana is to be wedded to Kapiton, he will smash up 
 everything in the house. No explanation can be had 
 with him, indeed. There are no means to bring this 
 devil the Lord forgive me ! to reason. Surely 
 His reflections were interrupted by the appearance of 
 Kapiton. 
 
 The cobbler entered the room quietly and placed him- 
 self near the door, with his arms folded on his back. He 
 leaned against a protrusion in the wall, and foppishly put 
 his right foot crossways before the left with an air of 
 ease and self-assurance ; he then gave a shake with his 
 head as though he wished to express : " Here I am ; 
 what do you want of me ?" but he said nothing. 
 
 Gavrilo looked at him and began drumming with his 
 fingers on the window-sill. Kapiton winked with his 
 little eyes, but he did not look down ; he smiled slightly 
 and passed his hand over his whitening, dishevelled hair. 
 His manner expressed, " Well, I am I, and what are you 
 going to do about it ? What are you looking at now ?" 
 
 " A nice one, indeed !" murmured Gavrilo, and 
 made a pause. " A nice fellow you are ; there is no 
 gainsaying it." 
 
 Kapiton only shrugged his limp shoulders with an im- 
 pertinent look which expressed, " You are a nicer one, I 
 dare say ;" but he said nothing. 
 
 " Just look at yourself," Gavrilo continued reproach- 
 fully. " See, what do you look like eh ?"
 
 MUML*. 23 
 
 Kapiton leisurely passed his eyes over his tattered and 
 dirty coat, over his patched and torn pantaloons ; he 
 dwelt for a few seconds with attention on his torn boots, 
 especially on the one which he had so foppishly put 
 forward, and then raising his eyes and looking his inter- 
 locutor squarely in the face, he said, " Well ? what of 
 it, sir?" 
 
 " What of it ?" echoed Gavrilo. " What of it ? 
 You ask yet, What of it ? Why, you look like a devil 
 Heaven forgive my sins ! Yes, that is what you look 
 like !" 
 
 Kapiton half closed his eyes as though he wished to 
 say, " Fire away, old fellow ; that is your business." 
 
 " You have been drank again !" resumed Gavrilo 
 " drunk again, were you not eh ? Well, answer me." 
 
 " By reason of feeble health, I have indeed yielded 
 to the desire for spirituous drink," Kapiton rejoined 
 with affectation. 
 
 " By reason of feeble health, forsooth!" echoed the 
 other one. " Have you not been chastised enough ? . . . 
 There ! . . . And he boasts of having been educated at 
 St. Petersburg ! Much have you learned at the resi- 
 dence ! You don't deserve the bread you eat ; that is 
 all !" 
 
 " As to the last point you have mentioned, Gavrilo 
 Matveyitch," the eloquent shoemaker rejoined, "there 
 is only One to judge me, and that is the Lord Almighty 
 Himself ; no one beside Him should presume to judge 
 me. He alone knows whether I deserve the bread that 
 I eat, or not ; He alone knows what kind of a man I 
 am. What concerns my drunkenness again, this is 
 surely not my fault, but that of a certain friend who has 
 beguiled me, put notions into my head, and then left 
 me and I "
 
 24 MUMU. 
 
 " And you remained drunk in the street like a foolish 
 gosling," Gavrilo interrupted ; and continued : " Oh, 
 you are a wayward, demoralized man ! But this is not 
 to the purpose. The thing is this : her ladyship yes, 
 it is the desire of her ladyship that you should marry. 
 Do you hear me ? She is of opinion that, being mar- 
 ried, you will mend your ways. Do you understand 
 me?" 
 
 " Why should I not understand, Gavrilo Matveyitch ?" 
 
 " Well then ! My opinion would be to do with you 
 something else, to hold you more strictly but this is 
 her ladyship's business. Well, are you satisfied ?" 
 
 Kapiton posed foppishly. 
 
 " Married life is certainly a good thing for a man, 
 Gavrilo Matveyitch," he said. " On my part, I shall 
 give my consent to the affair with my sincerest good 
 will, with the greatest of pleasure." 
 
 " That man speaks with great accuracy," admiringly 
 thought Gavrilo, Then he said aloud, " Very well. 
 But they have selected a bride for you who is not very 
 attractive." 
 
 " May I ask who that is, if my inquisitiveness be par- 
 donable ?" 
 
 " Tatiana," answered the steward. 
 
 " Tatiana !" echoed the cobbler, making a step for- 
 ward, and sharply looking at his interlocutor. 
 
 " Why do you get excited now ? Don't you like 
 her?" 
 
 " Why should I not like her, Gavrilo Matveyitch ? 
 She is a diligent, orderly, and quiet girl. But you know 
 it yourself, Gavrilo Matveyitch, that demon, that savage 
 beast, is after her." 
 
 " I know that, friend ; I know all about it," said the 
 steward with an air of great annoyance, " but "
 
 Mr AIL*. 25 
 
 " But, for mercy sake !" interrupted Kapiton, " lie 
 will kill me ! By Heaven, lie will kill me ! He will 
 just crush me like a fly ! He has a fist you know it 
 yourself what kind of a fist he has. His arm is simply 
 like that of Minin and Pozharsky !* He is deaf at 
 that ; he strikes, and does not hear how the blows fall ; 
 he wields his fist insensibly, like one in a dream. There 
 is no means to call him.to order. Why ! you know it 
 yourself, Gavrilo Matveyitch ; he is deaf and mute, and 
 as devoid of sense as a spot on the wall. He is a beast, 
 a statue, worse than a statue an asp tree. Why should 
 I be made to suffer at his liands ? Of course, I do not 
 care for myself ; I am worn out and used up ; I am 
 sleeked down like a tar-pot. But I am a man, Gavrilo 
 Matveyitch, and not a worthless pot, after all." 
 
 " I know, I know all about it," said Gavrilo ; " stop 
 your eloquence. ' ' 
 
 "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the animated cob- 
 bler, " when is the unfortunate event to transpire ? 
 Luckless, downtrodden being that I am ! Just think 
 of my fate ! In my young years I was beaten by my 
 master, the German ; in the best years of my life my 
 brothers treated me with blows ; now, behold what I am 
 to have for all my services in my ripe age !" 
 
 "Stop your litany!" called Gavrilo, "dilapidated 
 soul that you are !' ' 
 
 " What do I make a fuss about, Gavrilo Matvey- 
 
 * Kosma Minin was an energetic patriot of Nizhny Novogorod, who 
 succeeded by his strong appeals in arousing his countrymen to free 
 themselves from the Polish and Swedish pretenders to the Russian 
 crown in the year 1612. Through his interference the Prince Dmi- 
 triy Mikhaylovitch Pozharsky was appointed leader of the Russian 
 army, and defeated the Poles, who had besieged Moscow. In the tra- 
 dition of the common people these two names figure as those of somo 
 powerful giants. --H. G.
 
 26 MUMU. 
 
 itch ?" said Kapiton. " Indeed, I am not afraid of blows. 
 If a gentleman should chastise me within the four walls" 
 (referring to things which had often happened between 
 him and his interlocutor) " and meet me with due regard 
 before other people, I would not care ; I would be con- 
 sidered a man after all. But 
 
 " Get out of here !" cried Gavrilo. 
 
 Kapiton stalked out of the room. 
 
 ^'Suppose the deaf-mute fellow were not here," the 
 steward called after the cobbler, " would you then be 
 satisfied ?" 
 
 " I would grant my consent with the greatest pleas- 
 ure," answered the cobbler, whose affectation would not 
 desert him even in a moment of despair. 
 
 Gavrilo paced up and down in his room for some 
 time, and then he ordered Tatiana to be called. The 
 girl appeared. She entered the room noiselessly, and 
 stood at the door. 
 
 " What is your pleasure, Gavrilo Matveyitch ?" she 
 asked, timidly. 
 
 "Well, little Tatiana," the steward said, looking in- 
 tently into her face, " do you wish to be married ? Her 
 ladyship has found a husband for you." 
 
 " All right, Gavrilo Matveyitch," said the girl ; and, 
 after a brief pause, she asked timidly, " and who may 
 that be, if you please ?" 
 
 " Kapitori Klimoff, the shoemaker," was the answer. 
 
 "All right, sir." 
 
 "It is true, he is a wayward sort of a fellow," the 
 steward continued, " but her ladyship relies on you to 
 exert a good influence over him." 
 
 "All right, sir." 
 
 1 There is one difficulty, however ; the deaf-mute 
 fellow, Garassim, courts you. By what means have you
 
 MUMU. 27 
 
 charmed that beast, I wonder ? He will kill you if he 
 becomes aware that you are to be wedded to another 
 one, for he is not better than a beast." 
 
 "He will surely kill me, Gavrilo Matveyitch," the 
 girl said composedly and resignedly. 
 
 " He will, eh ? "Will he ? This remains to be seen. 
 What do you say ? He will kill you ? Just consider 
 it ; has he any right to kill you ?" 
 
 " I don't know, Gavrilo Matveyitch, whether he has 
 a right or not." 
 
 "Have you ever well, have you promised him any- 
 thing ?" asked the steward. 
 
 " If you please, Gavrilo Matveyitch ?" asked the girl, 
 not having understood Gavrilo's question. 
 
 " You are indeed an innocent soul ! It is all right 
 now. Go, now, my little Tatiaua. I see, you are a 
 dutiful, resigned, and submissive person." 
 
 Tatiana left the room, and leaned on the railing as she 
 descended the stairs. 
 
 " It may yet happen," meditated the steward, " that 
 by to-morrow her ladyship will forget all about the wed- 
 ding. To what purpose, then, have I taken so much 
 pains ? That piece of mischief, Garassim we will put 
 him down, if anything happens. We shall place him 
 under police arrest, if need be. Yslinya Theodore vna !" 
 he called to his wife, " put up the tea-kettle, my most 
 respected one, if you please. ' ' 
 
 Tatiana kept herself in the laundry the whole day. 
 At first she cried a little, but she soon wiped away her 
 tears and betook herself to her work. 
 
 Ivapiton went to the gin shop, where he remained until 
 late in the evening. He met there a friend, a sinister- 
 looking*individual, to whom he narrated the history of 
 his life. He had been at the residence in the service of
 
 28 MUMTJ. 
 
 a gentleman with whom he could do as he pleased ; he 
 had been a friend of order and correct deportment ; at 
 last he committed a little error, he took to drinking and be- 
 came somewhat careless ; he had been a great favorite with 
 ladies of all classes, who had been simply running after 
 him. The sinister-looking individual only said, " Yes," 
 to everything that Kapiton said. But when the latter at 
 last declared that for a certain reason he should be com- 
 pelled to lay hand on himself the very next day, his friend 
 arose from his seat, muttering something to the effect that 
 it was time to go to bed, and went off unceremoniously. 
 
 The hope of the steward, in the mean time, that her 
 ladyship might forget about the wedding, was not real- 
 ized. She was so interested in the affair that she spoke 
 about it even at night to her maid-in-waiting, who was 
 kept in the house for the sole purpose of keeping her 
 company when she could not sleep, and who, like a 
 night watchman, slept during the day. As soon as Gav- 
 rilo appeared before her the next morning with his regu- 
 lar report, she asked him, " Well, what about our wed- 
 ding affair ? Will it go ?" He, of course, answered 
 that it would go excellently ; that Kapiton would have 
 the honor to appear before her that day, with his hum- 
 blest regards, begging her permission that he should 
 marry Tatiana. 
 
 As soon as she dismissed him, Gavrilo called together 
 a council in the large servants' hall, for the affair, in- 
 deed, required mature reflection. Poor Tatiana, of 
 course, acquiesced to all the arrangements that were 
 made about her. But Kapiton was somewhat fractious ; 
 he declared then and there, in the presence of the 
 whole retinue of her ladyship, that he had only one head, 
 and not two or three, and that he would not ha* r e that 
 precious and only head of his broken.
 
 MUMU. S9 
 
 Garassim looked with apprehension at all that was 
 going on, and kept himself around the girls' apartments 
 the whole day. He conjectured that something very 
 unfortunate for him was taking place. 
 
 There was in the company a superannuated waiter, 
 whom they called Uncle Khvost, and to whom every one 
 respectfully submitted his opinion. He said : " Well, 
 well, well, well !" with a shake of his wise head. This 
 was all that they had ever heard from him. 
 
 It was suggested that Ivapiton should be locked up in 
 the small closet where the water-filter was stationed, jnst 
 for security's sake ; and this was done. Of course, 
 force could be used against Garassim ; but this was a 
 precarious means ; a noise might ensue, and her lady- 
 ship, God forbid ! might be frightened. 
 
 Thus they cogitated and reflected, and determined at 
 last upon a course of action. It had been observed that 
 Garassim hated drunkards. Sitting at the gate, he 
 would always turn away with disgust when an inebriate 
 passed by him with a tottering, staggering gait, and with 
 his hat turned the wrong way. It was resolved, there- 
 fore, upon the strength of these observations, that 
 Tatiana should feign drunkenness before him. The poor 
 girl was averse to playing such a trick, but she consented 
 at last. She knew, well that there was no other means 
 to rid herself of his imposition. Kapiton was let out of 
 his confinement, for he was to take a principal part in 
 the transaction after all. All the members of the house- 
 hold stationed themselves behind the window blinds to 
 observe what would happen. The trick succeeded, how- 
 ever, in the best possible manner. 
 
 Garassim was sitting at*thc gate thoughtfully reclining 
 his head on his hand, which was supported by the elbow 
 on his knee, and scratching the ground with his shovel,
 
 30 MUMU. 
 
 which he held in the other hand. All the eyes of the 
 servants were intent upon him from their concealed 
 places behind the blinds and in the corners. Tatiana 
 passed by him with a staggering gait, feigning to be 
 drunk. As soon as he noticed her he began smiling, 
 nodding, and uttering his peculiar friendly whine. He 
 then looked intently at her, jumped up from his seat, 
 and flung his shovel aside. He approached her, bowed 
 down his colossal figure, and put his face close unto her 
 face. 
 
 The poor girl was frightened out of her wits ; she 
 trembled in all her limbs, and could hardly keep on her 
 feet. This heightened the semblance of drunkenness. 
 He caught her by the arm, dragged her through the 
 courtyard into the servants' hall, and threw her into the 
 arms of Kapiton. She was half dead with fright. He 
 looked at her again with a bitter smile, waved his hand 
 at her, and walked off with a heavy step. 
 
 He kept himself in his room for the next two days. 
 The groom Antipka observed him through a crack in the 
 door ; he saw him sitting on his bed with his head rest- 
 ing in both hands, and quietly shaking himself and whin- 
 ing, as the wagon-drivers do when they sing their pa- 
 thetic songs on the road. The curious groom felt very 
 uneasy at the sight, and quickly withdrew from behind 
 the doer. 
 
 "When Garassim at last appeared again in the yard, no 
 special change could be noticed in him ; he only looked 
 somewhat gloomier than usual, and took no notice, either 
 of Tatiana or of Kapiton. The couple presented them- 
 selves to her ladyship with geese under their arms. She 
 graciously gave her sanction to their marriage, and they 
 were wedded a week afterward. On the day of their 
 wedding Garassim did not change his deportment ; only
 
 MUMU. 31 
 
 he returned from the river without water ; his barrel had 
 been damaged on the road. In the evening he brushed 
 his horse so violently that he nearly grated off her skin. 
 
 All this happened in the spring time. 
 
 Another year passed away, during which Kapiton 
 became so completely depraved that he was of no earthly 
 use in the world. Her ladyship therefore ordered him, 
 together with his wife, to be sent off to one of her most 
 distant villages by a convoy. On the day of his depart- 
 ure he was at first quite courageous, and asserted that he 
 would be able to get along, even if he were sent to that 
 distant part of the earth where the washerwomen hang 
 their clothes to dry on the rim of heaven. But when 
 the convoy began making preparations to start, he be- 
 came crestfallen, and complained of being sent away to 
 waste his life among uncultured people. At last he 
 completely broke down, and was so distracted that he 
 could not even put his cap on his head. Some charitable 
 individual put it on for him, and slapped it down lightly 
 with the palm of his hand. 
 
 "When the convoy was ready to start, the drivers hold- 
 ing the reins in their hands and waiting only for the 
 word of command, " With God !" to move on, Garassim 
 came out of his room and presented Tatiana with a red 
 cotton handkerchief which he had bought for her a year 
 before. The poor woman, who had encountered so many 
 hardships resignedly and without a murmur, could not 
 maintain her equanimity at the manifestation of such 
 disinterested kindness. Tears began rolling down her 
 cheeks, and before climbing up to take her seat in the 
 wagon, she threw her tiny arms around the shoulders of 
 the mute giant and exchanged hearty kisses with him. 
 He accompanied her ; his intention was probably to 
 walk along by her wagon as far as the city limits ; but
 
 32 MUMU. 
 
 on reaching the Krimskj crossing, he waved his hand to 
 her, and returned home along the river coast. 
 
 It was growing dark. Garassim walked slowly along, 
 looking into the water. He suddenly noticed something 
 struggling about in the mud right near the bank. lie 
 stooped to see what it was, and found a small dog. The 
 creature was wet, muddy, and trembling ; it was too young 
 and too feeble to work itself out of the sticky clay up to the 
 bank by all its desperate efforts. Garassim took it up, 
 and putting it into his bosom he hurried off homeward. 
 
 Arrived in his room, he put the cur on his bed and 
 covered it with his coat. He went down to the barn for 
 hay and made a bed for it. Then he went to the kitchen 
 and procured a cup of milk. He carefully uncovered 
 the dog and placed the milk before it, but the poor 
 creature was yet too feeble to help itself. It was only 
 about three weeks old, and one of its eyes was not quite 
 open yet ; it did nothing but tremble and wink with its 
 half-opened eye. Garassim cautiously took hold of its 
 head and dipped its month into the milk ; it began to 
 drink with a relish, licking and puffing about in a very 
 droll manner. Garassim observed it with intense pleas- 
 ure, and burst out laughing. The whole evening he 
 passed with the cur, until at last he fell asleep by it with 
 a joyous smile upon his broad countenance. 
 
 No mother takes so many pains with her child as 
 Garassim took with the cur he had saved from drown- 
 ing. At first she was ill-looking, timid, and weak, but 
 she soon began to develop in her proportions and to 
 straighten out in her bearing. She became playful, 
 arid, thanks to the incessant care of her master, she de- 
 veloped into a very fair spaniel, with a white fur. spotted 
 yellowish on the back, with long ears, a bushy tail, and 
 very expressive, clear eyes.
 
 MUMU. 33 
 
 I 
 
 She was very devoted to Garassim ; whithersoever 
 he went, she followed him, wagging her bushy tail. He 
 gave her a name : he called her Mumu. Deaf-mute 
 persons know very well that their voice attracts the 
 notice of such as can hear. All the people in the house 
 liked the dog and called her by the name her master had 
 given her Mumu. She in her turn behaved well 
 toward everybody, but she liked only Garassim. He 
 simply loved her beyond everything else. He did not 
 like to see others play with her. Was he afraid that she 
 might be hurt, or was he jealous of her affections ? 
 God alone knows. 
 
 She used to wake him in the morning by pulling at 
 his coverlet. She learned to lead out by the bridle the 
 old nag which was appointed for water-carrying, and 
 with which she lived on friendly terms. With an air of 
 importance she accompanied her master when he drove 
 to the river for water ; she guarded his brooms and 
 shovels, and would not allow any one to come into his 
 room. He cut out a hole in his door for her to pass in 
 and out, and she seemed to feel that only in his room she 
 might have her will. As soon, therefore, as she entered 
 it, she jumped upon the bed and stretched herself .with 
 an air of comfort and satisfaction. 
 
 By night she would not sleep at all. But she was not 
 like other dogs, which, sitting on their hind legs and 
 raising their snouts, bark at the twinkling stars the 
 whole night through, merely to while away time. No ; 
 the sharp barking of Mumu was heard only when a 
 stranger came near the fence of the yard, or when any 
 suspicious noise was heard around the house. 
 
 In brief, Mumn was an excellent watchdog. It is 
 true there was an old dog in the house, with yellow hair 
 spotted dark brown, whose name was Yoltch'ok. But he
 
 34 MUMU. 
 
 was never let off the chain at night, and by reason of old 
 age he did not evince the least desire for freedom. He 
 was lying twisted up in his kennel, from which he sel- 
 dom came out, and very seldom he uttered a hoarse, 
 sleepy barking which he would cut short in an instant, 
 as though he felt himself the uselessness of such an 
 effort. 
 
 Mumu never entered her ladyship's apartments. 
 When Garassim carried wood thither, she would stop on 
 the porch waiting for him, turning her head restlessly 
 and pointing her ears at every noise that was made by 
 the opening of doors. 
 
 Another year passed by, during which Garassim ap- 
 peared quite satisfied with his position and life. But 
 suddenly an unexpected occurrence subverted every- 
 thing. One fine summer afternoon her ladyship was in 
 good humor. She walked about in the parlor with her 
 maids-in-waiting, and was pleased to laugh and to pass 
 off jokes. The maids, too, laughed and made jokes, but 
 their minds were not at ease. They never felt quite 
 happy when her ladyship was in good humor. In the 
 first place, she was very exacting when in such a mood ; 
 she required of every one around her to be in good 
 humor, and was angry if any one looked dissatisfied. 
 Besides this, such a whim was generally of short duration, 
 and soon gave place to a sour and irksome disposition 
 which caused great trouble. On that morning her lady- 
 ship awoke in a happy moment. Laying out her cards 
 (as she was wont to do regularly every morning), she 
 found the prognostication that her wishes \vould be ful- 
 filled. At breakfast her tea tasted very good, and she 
 bestowed praises on her waiting-maid, and gave her a 
 grivenik (ten kopecks) in cash. With a pleasant smile 
 011 her withered lips she promenaded through the parlors
 
 MUMU. 35 
 
 and looked out through the window. There was a 
 palisade laid out before that window, on the central ele- 
 vation in which Mumu was lying under a rose-bush, 
 gnawing a bone. Her ladyship's eye alighted on the 
 dog. 
 
 " Gracious Heaven !" she called out, " what dog is 
 that there ?' ' 
 
 The maid-in-waiting to whom she addressed herself 
 became confused with that discomfiture which generally 
 befalls a subordinate when his superior asks him some- 
 thing, and he does not know in what sense the question 
 is put. 
 
 "I I do not know," she stammered. "I be- 
 lieve that it belongs to the deaf-mute menial, your 
 ladyship." 
 
 " What a lovely creature that is !" cried the lady. 
 " Order it to be brought here. Is it long since he has 
 had it ? Why have I not seen it before ? Order it to be 
 brought here immediately." 
 
 " Hey, there, Stepan !" the maids called in concert to 
 the groom. " Bring Mumu here. Quick ! She is in 
 the palisade. Be quick !" 
 
 " Ah !" said the lady, " her name is Mumu ! What 
 a beautiful name that is !' ' 
 
 "Ah!" said the maids, "most exquisite, indeed! 
 Be quick, Stepan ! Do you hear ?" 
 
 Stepan was off on his errand. He tried to catch 
 Mumu, but she adroitly avoided him and ran to her mas- 
 ter. Garassim was at that time in the kitchen cleaning a 
 big barrel which two men could hardly manage, but which 
 he handled as easily as a toy-drum. Stepan ran into the 
 kitchen to catch Mumu. She avoided him, running 
 about between her master's legs. Garassim, leaving his 
 barrel, stood up in his colossal height and looked at the
 
 36 MUMU. 
 
 chase with a broad grin. At last the groom gave up the 
 chase and appealed to Garassim, explaining by gestures 
 that her ladyship wished the dog to be brought to her. 
 Garassim appeared astonished, but he called the dog, 
 picked her up and handed her to the groom. 
 
 Stepan took her to the parlor and placed her on the 
 floor. Her ladyship began calling her with a voice as 
 sweet as she could make it. Mumu, who had never seen 
 the inside of such a large and gorgeous room, was shy 
 and turned quickly to the door, but the groom chased 
 her back. There the poor dog stood close to the wall, 
 trembling in all her limbs. 
 
 "Mumu, Mumu, come to rne ; come to your mis- 
 tress," called her ladyship. " Come, little fool ; don't 
 be afraid." 
 
 "Come, come, Mumu," called the maids-in-waiting 
 in concert. " Come to her ladyship, you little fool ; 
 don't be afraid." 
 
 But the dog looked about with anxiety, and did not 
 move from her place. 
 
 " Bring her something to eat," said the lady. " How 
 foolish she is ; she won't come to her mistress ! I won- 
 der what she is afraid of." 
 
 " They are not yet accustomed to the surroundings," 
 suggested one of the maids timidly, speaking of the dog 
 in the plural out of respect, you know, for she was now 
 the subject of interest to her ladyship. 
 
 Stepan brought a cup of milk and placed it before 
 Mumu, but she would not even turn to it, and continued 
 looking about her with anxiety. 
 
 " Oh, what a foolish creature you are !" said the 
 lady, coming near to the dog and trying to pat her. 
 Mumu showed her teeth, and her ladyship quickly with- 
 drew her hand.
 
 MUMU. 37 
 
 A pause ensued. Mumu uttered a feeble winning, as 
 if trying to complain or begging to be pardoned. The 
 lady turned away from her with a dark brow ; the 
 quick motion of the dog had frightened her. 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" cried the maids in concert. " Did she 
 not bite your ladyship ! God forbid !" (Mumu had 
 never bitten anybody, and they knew it.) " Oh ! oh !" 
 
 " Take her away !" ordered Jier ladyship. " What a 
 nasty, vicious dog that is !" She turned around and re- 
 paired to her private chamber. 
 
 The maids exchanged anxious looks and made show to 
 follow her. She stopped, bestowed a chilling glance at 
 them, and saying, " What for ? I have not called you," 
 she went off. The agitated maids waved their hands to 
 Stepan ; he caught Mumu and threw her out right at 
 the feet of Garassim. The lady sat in her private apart- 
 ment, looking more dismal than the most dismal storm- 
 clouds. 
 
 Just think of it, how the most insignificant occurrence 
 may sometimes aifect the disposition of a human being ! 
 
 Her ladyship was in bad humor, and did not speak to 
 anybody the whole day ; she did not play cards in the 
 evening, and she did not rest well at night. She im- 
 agined that the eau-de-Cologne which was handed her 
 was not of the same quality as she was accustomed to 
 have ; that her pillow-covers smelled with soap ; and 
 ordered her mistress of the wardrobe to smell at every 
 piece of linen on and about her. In brief, she was as 
 fretful and as troublesome as she could be. As soon as 
 she opened her eyes the next morning she ordered the 
 steward to be called. 
 
 " Tell me, please," she began, as soon as he appeared, 
 "what kind of a dog is there in the yard ? He barked 
 the whole night and disturbed and annoyed me."
 
 38 MUMU. 
 
 ' ' A dog, your ladyship ? What dog, your ladyship ? 
 Perhaps the one belonging to the deaf-mute, your lady- 
 ship ?" the steward said with a trembling voice. 
 
 "I don't know," she said petulantly, "whether it 
 belongs to the deaf-mute or to any other person. She 
 disturbed me that is all. I wonder why we need so 
 many dogs around the house. Is there no regular 
 watchdog here ?" 
 
 " Of course, your ladyship. There is Yoltchok, your 
 ladyship. " 
 
 "Well, then, what do we need more dogs for? 
 There is only disorder in the house, that is all. There 
 is no master in the house, and people take all sorts of 
 liberties. Why does the deaf-mute need a dog ? Who 
 gave him the permission to keep one ? Just yesterday I 
 noticed how she brought some nasty thing into the pali- 
 sade and gnawed at it right there where iny roses are 
 planted." She paused a few seconds, and then said : 
 " Put her out this very day ; do you hear me ?" 
 
 " All right, your ladyship." 
 
 " This very day, I say ! Now go. I shall call for 
 your report later on." Gavrilo went out. 
 
 Passing through the parlors he made himself busy re- 
 placing the call-bell from one table to another ; at the 
 door he blew his flat nose with a subdued noise, and 
 passed on to the vestibule. There the groom Stepan 
 was lying asleep on the bench, forming a figure like that 
 of a dead warrior on the battle-field, as represented in a 
 picture ; liis naked feet were stiffly stretched out from 
 under his coat, which he used as a coverlet. Gavrilo 
 shook him up, and gave him some orders in a hushed 
 voice, to which he responded with half of a laugh and 
 half of a yawn. He quickly put on his boots and coat 
 and placed himself on the porch outside.
 
 MUMU. 39 
 
 A few moments later Garassim appeared with a large 
 load of wood on his arms. He was accompanied by 
 Murnu, as usual. It was her ladyship's habit to have 
 her chamber and dormitory heated a little, even in 
 summer time. Garassim pressed with his elbow on the 
 knob, thus turning it, and opened the door by pushing 
 it with his shoulder. Muniu stopped on the porch, 
 waiting for him, as she always did. This opportunity 
 the groom seized to catch her. He threw himself upon 
 her, as a vulture on its prey, pressed her flat to the 
 ground, caught her up and carried her off in a hurry, 
 not even taking time to put on his cap. 
 
 He jumped with his prize into the first droshka that 
 came by him in the street, and drove off to the Okhotniy 
 Ryad (hunter's market). There he sold her for a pol- 
 tinnik (half a ruble) on the condition that the purchaser 
 should keep her tied for one week at least. He imme- 
 diately returned home in the same droshka, but he 
 alighted at a small distance from the house. Nor did he 
 dare to enter the house by the gate, for fear that he 
 might meet Garassim ; he went around through the alley 
 and climbed over the back fence into the yard. 
 
 But his fear was gratuitous. Garassim was not in the 
 house. As soon as he had deposited his wood and 
 come out of her ladyship's apartments, he missed his 
 dog. It was the first time since he had had her that he 
 failed to find her waiting for him. He ran about look- 
 ing for her. He first ran to his room, then to the 
 stables and to the barn, calling her with his peculiar 
 whine, " Muniu, Mumu !" but in vain; she did not 
 appear. 
 
 Whomsoever he met, he stopped, inquiring for her 
 by gesticulation ; he depicted her by putting his hand 
 flatly stretched at about a half yard from the ground,
 
 40 MUMU. 
 
 and drawing the outlines of her form with his finger in 
 the air, while he vivaciously imitated her motions and 
 barking. Some, indeed, knew what had ' become of 
 Mumu, but no one would inform him about it. They 
 only smiled sadly and shrugged their shoulders in answer 
 to his anxious inquiries. When he accosted the steward 
 with his gesticulation, the latter assumed a dignified air 
 and began scolding the hostler. Garassim then ran out 
 into the street in search of his dog. 
 
 It was evening when he returned home. By his tired 
 look, his sluggish gait, and by the dust that covered 
 him from head to foot, it could be conjectured that he 
 had run through the whole city, looking for Mumu. 
 There were several persons of the household on the 
 porch when he returned. He turned to them and 
 whined, " Mumu,' ' but they could not answer him. He 
 looked at the windows of her ladyship's apartment, 
 whined again, and walked off to his room. They looked 
 after him, but no one made a remark, no one smiled 
 even. The inquisitive groom, Antipka, reported the 
 next day that he had watched him lying awake the whole 
 night through, turning about on his couch arid heaving 
 deep sighs. 
 
 Garassim did not leave his room the next day, and the 
 hostler, Antipka, was obliged to bring water from the 
 river, of which he bitterly complained. Her ladyship 
 asked the steward whether her orders had been fulfilled, 
 and he answered in the affirmative. 
 
 On the following day Garassim went about his work as 
 usual, but he recognized no one either in the yard or at 
 the table. His countenance, at other times so placid and 
 motionless, appeared now like a piece of marble. After 
 dinner he left the house again, but he soon returned and 
 laid himself down on a rick of hay in the barn.
 
 MUML*. 41 
 
 Night came, a beautiful, calm, moonlit night. Garas- 
 sim was still lying in the hay, restlessly turning on all 
 sides and sighing. Suddenly he felt something pulling 
 him by his coat. A tremor passed through him ; he 
 suppressed his breathing and closed his eyes. There was 
 another and stronger pull. He jumped up ; before him 
 was Mumu with a piece of rope about her neck. She 
 tried to leap on him. A cry of intense rejoicing issued 
 from his mute breast ; he caught up his dog and pressed 
 her to his bosom. She licked about his face, his lips, 
 his beard. He stopped to reflect for a minute, alighted 
 from the hay-rick, and put out his head to look about 
 in the yard. Convinced that nobody was there, he 
 cautiously repaired to his room and happily arrived there 
 without being observed. He had conjectured that 
 Mumu had not been lost by mere chance. The rope 
 on her neck confirmed his suspicion that she had been 
 carried away by the order of her ladyship, as the people 
 around the house had showed him that she had snapped 
 at her. He therefore resolved now to take good care of 
 her in the future. 
 
 Arrived at his room, he bolted the door, fed and 
 caressed her, and laid her down to sleep. Stretching 
 himself on his couch, he lay awake the whole night, re- 
 volving in his mind by what means he could conceal his 
 dog in the best possible manner. At last he resolved to 
 keep her locked up in his room ; he would look after her 
 twice or three times during the day, and take her out at 
 night, when all were asleep, to give her an airing. He 
 tightly tucked up the hole which he had cut out for her 
 in the door, and early in the morning he came out of his 
 room trying to look as unconcerned as though nothing 
 had happened. He even tried to look down-hearted, as 
 if he still missed his pet. Poor, innocent artifice ! It
 
 42 MUMU. 
 
 never occurred to him that the dog would betray herself 
 by her whining. 
 
 Indeed, all the people around the house knew the 
 same morning that Mumu had come back, and that she 
 was locked up in Garassim's room. But out of pity to 
 him and to the dog, partly also out of fear for him, they 
 did not show that they had found out his secret. The 
 steward, on hearing the news, made a wry face ; he 
 scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and waved 
 his hand. " Well, let him be, in Heaven's name ! It 
 may be that her ladyship will not hear of it. " 
 
 No one worked more diligently around the house than 
 Garassim did on that day. He cleaned out the yard in 
 all corners ; he weeded out every blade of grass that 
 sprang up between the stones of tlie pavement ; he reset 
 every spike around the palisade to convince himself that 
 there were no rotten ones among them. In brief, he dis- 
 played so much ardor and thoughtful care, that even her 
 ladyship noticed his efforts with pleasure. During the 
 day he stole into his room several times to look after 
 Mumu, and early in the evening he went to bed with his 
 pet in his arms. 
 
 About two hours after midnight he arose and went 
 out in the yard to give Mumu a little exercise. He 
 walked about with her for about an hour, and was 
 already on the point of retiring again, when behind the 
 fence in the rear alley a sifting noise was heard. Mumn 
 ran up to the fence sniffling and pointing her ears, and 
 pealed out a sharp, protracted barking. Some drunken 
 person had disposed himself to pass the night in the 
 alley. 
 
 This happened just at the moment when her ladyship 
 was falling asleep after a repeated " nervous spell. " She 
 was wont to have such spells very often after she had in-
 
 MUMU. 43 
 
 dulged herself with too strong a supper. The sudden 
 barking of Mumu startled her ; she was frightened. 
 
 11 Girls ! girls !" she called in a plaintive voice. The 
 affrighted girls came in all haste. " Oh ! oh ! girls, I 
 am dying !" her ladyship moaned, and stretched her 
 arms imploringly. " Again, again that dog ! Oh, 
 send for the doctor !' ' 
 
 She threw her head back, which was to indicate a 
 swoon. Some of the girls ran to fetch the house phy- 
 sician, Kariton. The whole science of that physician 
 consisted in wearing very light shoes, and in the ability 
 to feel the pulse gently. His occupation was sleeping 
 fourteen hours in the day, sighing wistfully the rest of 
 the time, and treating her ladyship with " soothing bal- 
 sam." 
 
 He immediately appeared at her ladyship's bedside and 
 scorched some feathers under her nose. This was his 
 usual relief for a swoon. She opened her eyes and 
 stretched her hand for the glass of the coveted medicine, 
 which was held in readiness on a salver. Hereupon she 
 began complaining of the dog in a tearful voice ; she 
 complained of the steward, of her sad fate, that nobody 
 cared for her, the old, forlorn and forsaken woman ; 
 that everybody wished that she should die. 
 
 Unfortunate Mumu, in the mean time, continued bark- 
 ing, while Garassim tried to draw her away from the 
 fence. 
 
 " There, there again !" moaned the lady, and turned 
 up her eyes with a look of despair. The physician whis- 
 pered something to the senior maid-in-waiting. She ran 
 out and shook up the groorn. The groom ran off to 
 wake up the steward. The bewildered steward ordered 
 to rouse the whole household. 
 
 As soon as Garassim noticed lights and figures moving
 
 44 MUMU. 
 
 about in tlie windows, he felt that there was some mis- 
 chief brewing. He caught his dog, ran off to his room 
 with her, and bolted the door. 
 
 A few minutes later five fellows tried to force them- 
 selves into his room, bat the strong bolt resisted their 
 efforts, and they stopped. Gavrilo came to the scene of 
 action in all haste, and ordered the five men to stand on 
 the watch before Garassim's room until the morning. 
 He then sent word to her ladyship by the senior maid- 
 in-waiting (with whom he was accustomed to steal in 
 partnership and to falsify the accounts of tea, spices, and 
 other household articles) that the dog had unfortunately 
 returned from the place she had been taken to, but by 
 to-morrow she would be alive no longer ; may her lady- 
 ship be" pleased to forgive, and calm herself. 
 
 The lady would perhaps not have calmed herself so 
 soon but for a mistake of the physician ; in his hurry to 
 afford relief, he administered to her forty instead of fif- 
 teen drops of the "soothing balsam." The power of 
 the drug showed its effect ; her ladyship was fast asleep 
 in fifteen minutes. 
 
 Poor Garassim was lying on his couch as white as 
 chalk, pressing his Murnu to his heaving breast. 
 
 Her ladyship woke up quite late in the morning. 
 Gavrilo was waiting in the vestibule in order to report the 
 state of affairs and to get her orders for a decided on- 
 slaught on Garassim's stronghold. He at the same time 
 prepared himself to stand a severe chiding. But the 
 chiding did not come ; he was not called to see her lady- 
 ship in person. Lying in bed, she called her senior 
 maid-in-waiting, and began thus in a feeble, plaintive 
 voice : 
 
 "My dear Liubov Liubimovna" (such was the full 
 name of the maid) " you see in what a state of -health I
 
 MUMl*. 45 
 
 am. Go, my dear, to Gavrilo Matveyitch, and speak to 
 him. Is some nasty dog dearer to him than the rest, the 
 very life, of his mistress ? I cannot believe that !" Here 
 she sighed deeply. " Go, if you please, and speak to 
 Gavrilo Matveyitch, my dear." Her ladyship sometimes 
 liked to assume the role of a martyr. Her exquisite 
 politeness and tearfulness in such instances made the 
 whole household feel uneasy. 
 
 The maid-in-waiting went to speak to Gavrilo. It 
 did not transpire what the two worthies said to each 
 other ; but a half hour after the consultation a whole 
 crowd of men marched in formidable array through the 
 courtyard and repaired toward Garassim's stronghold. 
 
 Gavrilo, of course, marched in front. He held his 
 hand to his cap, although there was no wind which 
 might carry off that useful part of his outfit. He was 
 followed by all the grooms, hostlers, cooks, and menial 
 servants of the household. Uncle Ivhvost looked out of 
 his window and gave orders, i.e. he was beating the air 
 with his hands in all possible directions. Behind the 
 belligerent crowd ran a number of ragged children, 
 some of whom were strangers from tbe street. On the 
 narrow staircase leading to Garassim's room there stood 
 the five watchmen with their sticks : two on the lowest 
 stoop, one on the stairs, and two more right by the door. 
 The troop of assailants came on and crowded the stair- 
 case from top to foot. Gavrilo knocked with his stick 
 at the door. 
 
 " Open !" he commanded in stentorian tones. 
 
 Mumu's muffled barking was heard inside, but no an- 
 swer came. 
 
 " Open, I say, forthwith !" he commanded again, 
 knocking with his stick at the door. 
 
 " Is he not deaf, Gavrilo ? How can you expect him
 
 46 MUMC. 
 
 to hear you ?" called the groom from the foot of the 
 stairs. 
 
 The whole crowd laughed. 
 
 " What is to be done DOW ?" said Gavrilo, scratching 
 his head. 
 
 " There is a hole in his door," called Stepan again. 
 " Put your stick through it and dabble about inside." 
 
 Gavrilo stooped to see "the hole. 
 
 " He has stopped it up with an old coat," he said. 
 
 " Push the coat inside with your stick," suggested the 
 groom. 
 
 Here again the muffled barking of Mumu was heard. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! How she betrays herself !'' some 
 one remarked in the crowd. They all laughed. Gavrilo 
 thoughtfully scratched himself behind his ear. 
 
 " No, friend !" he said ; "if you want to have the 
 coat pushed in, go and do it yourself. " 
 
 " Why not? I shall do it." 
 
 Stepan elbowed his way up-stairs. He pushed the 
 coat in and dabbled about with his stick, calling, " Come 
 out, come out !" While he was thus courageously at 
 work, the door opened, and in it appeared the colossal 
 figure of Garassim. The whole crowd threw itself back 
 pell-mell down-stairs, Gavrilo ahead of them all. Uncle 
 Khvost quickly closed his window. 
 
 " Ta-ta-ta," called Gavrilo from his retreat. " Look 
 sharp, my dear fellow, look out !" 
 
 Garassim stood like a pillar in the door. His stalwart 
 tigure erect, his right arm lightly curved with his hand 
 leaning on his thigh, dressed in his red cambric blouse 
 in peasant's fashion, he appeared like a veritable giant 
 against the crowd of emasculated little fellows beneath 
 the stairs who were dressed in their German frocks. 
 Gavrilo at last took courage and made a step forward.
 
 MUMU.' 47 
 
 " Look out, my dear fellow !" he said to Garassim, as 
 though he could hear what he said. " You will play no 
 mischief with me, I tell you !" 
 
 Hereupon he showed him with gestures that her lady- 
 ship required him to give up the dog ; there would be 
 trouble if he would not comply. Garassim pointed to 
 Mumu, passed his hands over his throat as if tightening 
 a rope around it, and looked inquiringly at the steward. 
 
 "Yes, yes," gesticulated Gavrilo. "Positively so ; 
 she must be choked." 
 
 Garassim looked down for a few seconds, but he soon 
 straightened himself, and pointing to Mumu, who stood 
 by him wagging her tail and looking inquisitively with 
 her expressive, clear eyes, he repeated the gesture of 
 choking, and struck himself in the breast, thus asserting 
 that he would do it himself. All understood what he 
 meant. 
 
 " But you will deceive us !" gesticulated Gavrilo. 
 
 Garassim bestowed a contemptuous look on the stew- 
 ard, struck himself in his breast again, and entered his 
 room, closing his door with a bang. 
 
 All were silent, and exchanged glances. 
 
 "What does this mean?" began Gavrilo. "He 
 locked himself up again." 
 
 " Let him be, Gavrilo Andreyitch," said Stepan. 
 " He will fulfil his promise. He is just that kind of a 
 fellow ; if he promises to do a thing, he will do it. The 
 truth must be acknowledged : in this regard he is quite 
 different from what we are. Yes, just so !" 
 
 " Just so ! Just so !'' echoed the crowd, wisely shak- 
 ing their heads. 
 
 Uncle Khvost opened his window and reiterated, 
 " Just so !" 
 
 " Well, for my part," said Gavrilo, " let us see. But
 
 48 MUMU. 
 
 watch shall be kept at his door. I say, Eroshka," lie 
 called to an unkempt individual who was dressed in a 
 yellow cotton jacket, and was considered the gardener of 
 the establishment, " You have nothing to do now. 
 Take a stick and mount guard here. The least thing 
 you notice, come and report to me." 
 
 Eroshka took a stick and sat down on the lowest step 
 of the staircase. The crowd dispersed, with the excep- 
 tion of a few curious boys, who remained hanging about 
 the scene of action. Gavrilo sent -rd to her ladyship 
 that everything was in order ; but to provide for emer- 
 gencies he sent the chief groom to the runner, ordering 
 the latter to hold himself ready for service. Her lady- 
 ship, on receiving the report from her senior maid-in- 
 waiting, made a little knot in her handkerchief, dipped it 
 in eau-de-Cologne^ and smelled at it and rubbed her tem- 
 ples. She then drank a few cups of tea with relish, 
 and. as the effect of the " soothing balsam" was not yet 
 passed, she soon fell asleep again. 
 
 About two hours after the siege, Garassim came out 
 of his room. He was dressed in his holiday suit, and led 
 his Mumu by a string. Eroshka made room for him to 
 pass. He went straight through the yard, holding his 
 cap in his hand. Gavrilo ordered Eroshka to follow 
 him at a distance, observing what he would do. Garas- 
 sim did not put on his cap until he had passed through 
 the gate. He entered a restaurant where he was known 
 and his gesticulations were understood, and ordered a 
 strong soup with meat. He sat down by a table waiting, 
 with his head reclined on his hand. Mumu stood by 
 him, watching him with her clever, bright eyes. She 
 looked clean, her fur was glossy, as if she had just been 
 washed and combed. The meal was served. Garassim 
 carefully cut the meat into small pieces, and putting it
 
 MUMTJ. 49 
 
 into the soup he placed it on the floor for Mumu. Ho 
 watched her while she daintily partook of the meal, and 
 two heavy tears fell from his eyes. One fell upon the 
 head of the dog, the other one into her plate. He cov- 
 ered his face with both hands. 
 
 Mumu ate about half of the meal and went aside, lick- 
 ing her snout with a relish. Garassim arose, paid for 
 the meal, and left the room. The waiter looked after 
 him with silent amazement. As soon as Eroshka, who 
 had stopped outside to watch for him, saw him come, he 
 jumped aside and hid himself behind the corner. When 
 he had passed, leading Mumu by the string, Eroshka 
 emerged from his hiding-place and followed him again. 
 
 Garassim walked slowly and thoughtfully some dis- 
 tance ; then he stopped for a few seconds, as if trying 
 to recollect something. Hereupon he quickly turned 
 around the corner and marched in long strides as far as 
 the Krimsky Broda, and took his road by the river side. 
 He entered a courtyard where he saw bricks lying about, 
 and took two of them, which he carried off under his arm. 
 
 He walked on until he reached a bridge, where he had 
 noticed, on a previous occasion, two boats with heavy 
 oars lying in the river tied to a pole. He jumped into 
 one of the boats with Mumu, and having loosened it he 
 laid hold of the oars. An old little man with a short leg 
 came out of a shanty which stood in the corner of a yard 
 near by, and began speaking angrily to him. He nod- 
 ded, and began rowing so mightily that, notwithstanding 
 he took his course against the stream, in a few moments 
 he was a couple of hundred yards away. The little man 
 looked on, scratched the back of his head first with his 
 right hand, then with his left, then with both hands 
 together ; then he turned around and went limping back 
 to his shanty.
 
 50 MUMtf. 
 
 Garassim rowed on and on. The city was left be- 
 hind ; along the coast there appeared gardens, meadows, 
 cornfields, and young forests. Scattered peasants' cots 
 were seen. The fragrant village air was wafted from 
 the shore. He let the oars hang, and bent himself over 
 Mumu, who stood by him on the dry seat. The boat 
 was full of water at the bottom. 
 
 With his mighty arms thrown about the dog and his 
 head reclining on her head, he remained motionless for 
 some time, while the boat was slowly carried by the stream 
 back toward the city. At last he straightened himself 
 out, and quickly, but with an expression of intense suffer- 
 ing on his countenance, he tied his two bricks to the other 
 end of the string by which Mumu was tied, and making 
 a noose, he threw it around the dog's neck and raised 
 Mumu and the bricks above the water. Mumu looked 
 at him without fear and caressingly wagged her tail. 
 
 He turned his head aside, closed his eyes with a dis- 
 tressing contortion of his features, and dropped the dog 
 with the bricks. He did not hear the abrupt cry of 
 Mumu, nor the splash of the bricks falling into the 
 water. Was not the noisiest day more silent for him 
 than the most silent night for us ? 
 
 When he reopened his eyes, the little wavelets of the 
 river chased one another in their usual way ; they 
 splashed around his boat as they did before. But far 
 behind him the surface of the river was rippled in an 
 unusual manner by large circles, which grew fainter as 
 they grew larger. 
 
 As soon as Garassim had rowed off on the river, 
 Eroshka went home and reported all that he had seen. 
 
 " Well, it is all right," hereupon remarked Stepan. 
 " He will drown her. We may depend on that, since 
 he has promised."
 
 MUMF. 51 
 
 Garassim was not seen in the house the whole day. 
 His seat remained unoccupied at the dinner table. 
 Evening came. The whole household assembled in the 
 large servants' hall for supper, but Garassim was not in 
 their midst. 
 
 " What a peculiar fellow that Garassim is !" remarked 
 a stout laundress in a squeaking voice. " How can a 
 man worry himself so much about a dog ?" 
 
 "He was here," said Stepan, helping himself to 
 soup. 
 
 " When ? When ?" asked all in concert. 
 
 " About two hours ago, sure. I saw him come and 
 leave the house again. I met him at the gate, and 
 wanted to ask him what he had done with Mumu ; but 
 he seemed to be in bad humor. Well, he pushed me 
 aside, Iby which he probably meant to imply that I 
 should not bother him. But he treated me to a wonder- 
 ful crack on the neck ! Oi-oi-oi ! I tell you !" Here 
 he rubbed his neck, contorting his features as if he were 
 in pain. " He has a blessed little fist, that Garassim has, 
 indeed !" 
 
 They all laughed at Stepan's recital and grimace ; 
 after supper they dispersed. 
 
 In the mean time a gigantic figure with a bundle on 
 the shoulder and a strong stick in the hand was marching 
 
 on the T high-road with evident determination and 
 
 self-assurance. This was Garassim. He made long 
 strides toward his old home, his village, his native place. 
 Having drowned Mumu, he ran back to his room, 
 quickly gathered up his few things, which he tied in a 
 bundle, and went off. He knew the way to his village, 
 having taken good notice of all that his eyes had met 
 when he was taken to Moscow. That village was situ- 
 ated only about twenty-five versts from the high-road.
 
 52 MUMU. 
 
 He now strode onward on that road with desperate de- 
 termination, mingled with a sense of pleasure. He 
 marched quickly, as if his old mother were waiting for 
 him, as if she had called him back home after he had 
 lingered for many years in a strange land among 
 strangers. 
 
 A calm, moonlit summer night was coming on. To 
 his right, where the sun had just gone down, the horizon 
 was white, interlaced with reddish stripes ; to his left 
 the bluish-dark mist of the evening was rising. He 
 marched on. The night passed away. Thousands of 
 quails sang noisily around him ; thousands of snipes 
 chirped their loudest, as if trying to outdo each other. 
 Garassim could not hear them, as he had not heard the 
 soft and mysterious lisping of the trees by which his 
 sinewy legs had carried him during the night. But he 
 perceived the familiar fragrance of the ripening rye 
 wafted to him from the fields. He could feel the friendly 
 air, the air of his native place, blowing in his large face 
 and playing in the long tresses of his sandy colored loose 
 hair, as if coming to meet him with friendly greetings. 
 He could see the whitening road stretched in a straight 
 line before him, the road which led homeward. He 
 could see the myriads of stars which twinkled above him 
 during the night, waning away one by one in the gray 
 mist of the morning. Like a mighty lion he moved on, 
 with bold and easy strides. When the rising sun 
 touched his glowing countenance with its first rays, he 
 was at a distance of thirty-five versts from Moscow. 
 
 In two days Garassim arrived home and entered his 
 cottage. A soldier's widow, who had been allowed to 
 occupy the cottage, was astonished to see him enter. He 
 bowed himself before the holy image, and made the sign 
 of the cross over his breast as soon as he entered the
 
 MUMU. 53 
 
 place, and went out forthwith to show himself to the 
 foreman of the village. The latter was also astonished 
 to see him. But the hay- harvest had just begun, and a 
 worker like Garassim was not unwelcome. A scythe 
 was soon given him, and he went to work harvesting as 
 he was wont to do in olden times. And he worked with 
 a will, so that the other socage laborers felt a tremor 
 pass through them at seeing the mighty sweep of his 
 scythe and the powerful clutch of his hand. 
 
 The day after Garassim left Moscow, he was missed at 
 tlie house. Two of the underlings went to his room, and 
 having found it open and unoccupied, reported the deaf- 
 mute's absence to Gavrilo. The steward shrugged his 
 shoulders, scratched the back of his head, and concluded 
 that Garassim had either drowned. himself together with 
 his dog, or had run away. He sent word to the police 
 headquarters that such a serf was missing, and went to 
 report the affair to her ladyship. 
 
 Her ladyship was kindled with anger ; she cried, 
 scolded, threatened, and fainted by turns ; she protested 
 that she had never ordered to destroy the dog. And 
 finally she gave the steward such a chiding, that he 
 went about the whole day scratching his head and mut- 
 tering, " Well, well !" Only toward evening Uncle 
 Khvost succeeded in reassuring him, by saying, " Well, 
 well, well !" 
 
 Four days later the information came from the village 
 that Garassim had safely returned thither. Her lady- 
 ship calmed herself a little. She gave orders that he 
 should be sent back to Moscow forthwith ; but after a 
 moment's reflection she revoked the order, saying that 
 she had no need of such an ungrateful servant about her 
 house. 
 
 She died, however, soon afterward, and her heirs took
 
 54 MUMtr. 
 
 no special interest in Garassim ; they allowed all the 
 serfs that had served in their ' ' dear mother's' ' household 
 to go free in consideration of an annual head-tax. 
 
 And Garassim lives still isolated in his lonely cottage. 
 He is as healthy and as strong as he ever was, and per- 
 forms the work of four ordinary men, as he did before. 
 He is imposing in appearance, strict and orderly in de- 
 portment. His neighbors have noticed that since he re- 
 turned from Moscow he never has paid any attention to 
 women, and has kept no dog. 
 
 " It is well for him," they often remark, " that he is 
 spared the annoyance of having a woman troubling him. 
 As to a dog of what use would be a dog to him ? No 
 thief will come to his cottage if he be dragged thither 
 by a pair of oxen." 
 
 Thus the story is told about the gigantic and powerful 
 deaf-mute serf. 
 
 END.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 "THE Diary of a Superfluous Man," by Ivan Tur- 
 genieff, was published for the first time in a Russian 
 quarterly journal in 1850. Turgenieff was at that time 
 not so well known in the literary world as he is at the 
 present time. His stories were frequently passed over 
 with indifference, even by his countrymen. I would not 
 know " The Diary," etc., much less would I take the 
 trouble of translating it into another language, were it 
 not for the peculiar circumstances which brought it to 
 my cognizance. 
 
 In the year 1856 I had to spend a few days in Yilko- 
 mir, a corporate town in the district of Vilna. That 
 place was very dull for me, as I had never been in any 
 smaller city than Yilna, my native town. It lacked 
 also the attractiveness of a rural place, for it had the 
 pretensions of a business city, and the noise and bustle 
 in the streets made one forget nature and all its attrac- 
 tions. I had no books to read, and no congenial com- 
 pany to spend my time with. At last I was requested 
 by a lawyer to revise for him some documents which he 
 had drawn up. Lawyers are not always good grammari- 
 ans, in Russia or elsewhere. When I was through with 
 his manuscripts, I asked him whether he had any 
 books to read beside those of legal contents. " Any 
 book will do a novel will do only give me something 
 to refresh my mind, or I will die of ennui." He had
 
 58 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 none except a few old journals mouldering under his 
 case. Even these were welcome. I took out the dusty 
 papers, and discovered among them the pamphlet in 
 which "The Diary of a Superfluous' Man" was pub- 
 lished. The inscription attracted my attention, and 
 having read two or three pages, I became so absorbed in 
 its contents that I did not lay the book aside until I had 
 finished it. 
 
 As this was the only literary article which suited my 
 taste at Yilkomir, I pondered on it the rest of the time 
 I had to spend in that city. The more I reflected on the 
 story of " The Superfluous Man," the better I found it. 
 To tell the truth, I would not be able to name a story 
 which had made more impression on me than this one ; 
 and 1 have read a good many productions of this kind, 
 and in more than one language. The smallest thing is 
 turned into a matter of importance, when our imagina- 
 tion knits its web around it. I have translated this 
 sketch into German for a lady friend ; into Hebrew for 
 a colleague, who I thought might be benefited by it ; 
 and into English for exercise. Some of my friends, to 
 whom I have read the English translation, considered it 
 of sufficient interest to have it published. But being 
 doubtful of the merits of the translation, I had not the 
 courage to lay it before the general reader, and had it 
 published in periodicals of small circulation in the 
 American Israelite first, and afterward in the jSunny 
 South. -Offering it now to the general public in book 
 form, in a revised and corrected state, I cannot let the 
 opportunity pass without requesting the kind notice of 
 the story, not on account of its merits in the English 
 garb, but as a sample of the keen psychological penetra- 
 tion of my illustrious countryman, the author. 
 
 The character of Chulkaturin (the hero of the plot) is
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 59 
 
 indigenous to Russia. The marked distinctions between 
 the different classes of society before the laws and cus- 
 toms of the country, generate and rear such ' ' superflu- 
 ous men. " A gentleman of noble lineal descent (Dvori- 
 anin) has, by virtue of his social station, no other career 
 open before him but that of official service. The chil- 
 dren of that favored class of citizens are raised in such a 
 manner as to become unfit for either mechanical or com- 
 mercial pursuits in life. The nobility of their ancestors 
 and the records of their pedigrees and coats-of-arms are 
 the cradle songs of such children, which impress them 
 with a sense of superiority over the rest of mankind. 
 If the noble parents are rich and can give their children 
 a good education, and if they have social connections of 
 influence to further those children on their subsequent 
 career, either in military or civil service, success is insured 
 to a certain degree. You can find in St. Petersburg, 
 Moscow, and other large Russian cities, noblemen who 
 are very well educated, and can compare favorably with 
 the enlightened classes of other countries ; but these are 
 only the happy exceptions to the rule. 
 
 The majority of nobles in the smaller towns and vil- 
 lages cannot afford to give their children a liberal educa- 
 tion ; nor have they such social connections as to send 
 them out into the world under good auspices, that they 
 may acquire those brilliant social qualities which are 
 necessary for the aristocratic class. But they are nobles 
 anyhow. The members of their caste will forgive them 
 for any means they may employ to eke out an existence, 
 except such means as are used by the lower classes of 
 society. Sponging on others is excusable for a noble ; 
 official corruption is nothing out of order ; even gam- 
 bling is pardonable ; but working at the mechanic's 
 bench or engaging in commercial enterprises sets him
 
 60 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 immediately on a par with the mies^chanin^ or towns- 
 man, who belongs to the lower class of society, and ex- 
 cludes him from the class of nobles. Their children are 
 raised with these mistaken notions of superiority, with a 
 disdain for anything which is not popular with their 
 caste, but without the necessary outfit of knowledge and 
 social qualities to maintain them in any honorable posi- 
 tion. What such a class of citizens may become for 
 society can be easily imagined ; arid if they lack the 
 courage to do evil, and they have not the energy to 
 make headway for themselves in any wise, they must 
 necessarily become " superfluous men." 
 
 The superficial education they have, combined with a 
 sense of bitterness which disappointed hopes will im- 
 part, causes them to become what the hero of this story 
 is cynics, remorseless satirists, despondent, dissatisfied 
 and isolated caricaturists. A consciousness of his own 
 unworthiness and uselcssness gnaws at his life, and the 
 " Superfluous Man" lives and dies a miserable creature 
 indeed. In this wise the spirit of equality avenges itself 
 on those who make of themselves exceptions of the rest 
 of mankind. The " Superfluous Man" is of a noble 
 birth and parentage ! 
 
 The " Superfluous Man" looks at the world out of 
 himself, and judges it according to his own thoughts 
 and emotions, instead of looking into himself with a 
 knowledge of the general aspect of life and endeavoring 
 to improve himself so as to be in harmony with life. Her 
 is too narrow-minded, his knowledge is too superficial to 
 enable him to take a broader view of life. lie is an 
 egotist because the fancy of superiority is hereditary 
 with him ; it is below his dignity to conform himself to 
 the rest, to learn or to accept anything from such as are 
 not of his caste. He refuses to see the kindness and
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 61 
 
 devotion of his simple old nurse, and interprets it 
 wrongly ; he rails even at his faithful dog : neither the 
 nurse nor the dog is a noble by birth. If he is egotistic, 
 gloomy, and unfit for life, all the rest must be bad. 
 
 Those who do enjoy life, either because of an intuitive 
 piety, or on account of a natural contentedness, or even 
 by their sinful endeavors, are alike subjects of his deri- 
 sive sneer, although he would be pious if he had the 
 moral fortitude, contented if not so egotistic, or sinful 
 if he had the courage to be so. He knows his deficien- 
 cies, and cannot command the strength to correct them. 
 If the recollection of a bright moment occurs to him, 
 instead of consoling him for the many disappointments he 
 has suffered, it acts on him quite differently : it reminds 
 him that* life has some blessings, but those blessings have 
 been denied him ; it therefore makes his bitter cup more 
 bitter, his dark fate still darker. Like the envious 
 raven, who threw mud on the white dove to make her 
 appear as black as himself, so the " Superfluous Man" 
 throws his satire on everything around him for his con- 
 solation. But the truth gnaws at his life all the while ; 
 he cannot hide himself from his own penetrating glance, 
 which is so keen to perceive the faults of others. 
 
 If Chulkaturin is intended to personify descendant 
 aristocracy, we can clearly see its fate. As it removes 
 from its original stock it becomes first impoverished, 
 then degraded, then " superfluous," and dies at last in 
 self-torment. 
 
 This is the lesson I have learned from the " Diary of 
 a Superfluous Man." May the reader therefore excuse 
 my partiality to the story. I think it is not quite a 
 useless lesson, even in this country, where there is no 
 aristocracy. It is not the name, it is the thing which 
 creates the mischief in this case, and there are a good
 
 62 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 many notions which create inequality in society all over 
 the world, if not quite so bad as in Russia, yet bad 
 enough. Heaven have mercy on those who are raised 
 to become like Chulkaturin, and may the sins of their 
 fathers be forgiven I HENRY GERSONI.
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 HAMLET OF OVECHTT-VODA, March 20. 
 
 THE physician has just left the house. At last have I 
 drawn out the truth from him, however skilfully he tried 
 to conceal it ; he had to come out with it at last. Yes, 
 I will soon die very soon. The rivers will throw off 
 their icy cover, and I shall disappear with the last snow. 
 1 shall depart. Where to ? God knows. I shall also 
 vanish in a sea. Well, and is there any evil in this ? If 
 death be inevitable, it is better to die in the spring. 
 
 But is it not ridiculous to begin writing a diary about 
 a fortnight before death ? And what of that ? Are 
 fourteen days of less consequence than fourteen years, 
 or even fourteen centuries, in the sight of eternity ? 
 But is not the idea of eternity a foolish fancy ? My 
 mind, it seems, is wandering off in a labyrinth of ab- 
 stract speculations ; that is an evil omen. It seems that 
 I am losing courage. It would be better were 1 to nar- 
 rate something. The air is damp and chilly, and I may 
 not go out. What shall I narrate ? Something about 
 my sickness ? No respectable person speaks about his 
 pains. Shall I compose a. tale ? That is not in my line. 
 Shall I write on some philosophical subject ? I am not 
 equal to such a task. Shall I describe my surroundings ? 
 They are tiresome to me, much more so would they be 
 to the reader. I am tired of idling, and too lazy even
 
 64 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 to read a book. A wonderful idea strikes my mind ! I 
 shall tell myself the story of my own life. That is just 
 the thing a person ought to do before his death, arid it 
 cannot offend anybody. I shall go to work at once. 
 
 I was born thirty years ago. My parents were well- 
 to-do land-owners. My father was a passionate gambler, 
 and my mother was a woman with a character ', a very 
 benevolent lady. I never knew a woman whom benevo- 
 lence afforded less enjoyment than to her. She actually 
 fell under the weight of her own dignity. She tor- 
 mented everybody, herself included. During all the 
 fifty years of her life she never rested, never folded her 
 arms. She was constantly busy and bustling about like 
 an ant, with the only difference that her work never 
 had any object. It seemed as though some worm were 
 gnawing at her heart, causing her restlessness day and 
 night. Only once in my life I saw her perfectly quiet : 
 it was on the day after her death. It seemed to me then 
 that her face bore the expression of silent amazement. 
 There she lay in her coffin, her cheeks sunken, her eyes 
 motionless, her lips half apart, her whole appearance 
 conveying the idea, " How pleasant it is not to move 
 one's self !" Yes, it is good, very good, to be rid at 
 last of the tiresome consciousness of life, of the incessant 
 irksome feeling of existence ! But this is not to the 
 purpose. 
 
 The manner in which I grew up was foolish and desti- 
 tute of enjoyment. My father and my mother both 
 loved me ; but that did not make things any better. 
 The former had no earthly significance or influence in 
 his own house. As a man who had given himself to an 
 ignoble and ruinous vice, he felt his degradation ; but 
 he had not the moral power to resist his vicious desires ; 
 he therefore tried to win the condescension of his ex-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 65 
 
 emplary wife by a quiet, submissive and humble deport- 
 ment. 
 
 My mother bore her misfortunes with that lofty and 
 dignified patience which betrayed too much of selfish 
 pride. She never reproached my father for anything he 
 did. She gave him all the money she had, and paid his 
 debts without a murmur. He always praised her highly, 
 but did not like to stay at home. He petted me stealth- 
 ily, as if he were afraid lest he infect me with his moral 
 disease. But whenever he embraced me, his marked 
 features bore the expression of such tenderness, the 
 feverish smile around his lips was so touching, and his 
 mild blue eyes, surrounded by a multitude of fine wrin- 
 kles, beamed with so much love, that I could not help 
 pressing my cheek to his face, which was all glowing 
 with emotion, and wet with tears. I wiped those tears 
 with my handkerchief, and they rolled down again by 
 themselves, without any effort on his part, just like 
 water from the edge of an overflowing glass. I would 
 then begin to cry, too, and he would reassure me, pat 
 ine on the shoulder, and cover my face with kisses. 
 Even now when I think of my poor father, who has 
 been dead more than twenty years, a mute sobbing fills 
 my throat, and my heart beats swiftly and warmly, and 
 feels oppressed with such a sorrowful commiseration, as 
 though it were yet to beat for a long time, and as if 
 there were yet anything to commiserate. 
 
 My mother, on the other hand, always treated me uni- 
 formly kindly, but coldly. "We often find the charac- 
 ter of such mothers portrayed in juvenile books moral- 
 izing and just. My mother loved me, but I did not love 
 her. Tes, I kept distant from my virtuous mother, and 
 loved ardently my vicious father. 
 
 But that will suffice for to-day. I have made a be-
 
 66 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 ginning, and need not worry myself about the rest. It 
 depends on my sickness, and not on me. 
 
 March 21. 
 
 The weather is splendid to-day ; it is warm and clear. 
 The sim plays beautifully upon the melting snow. 
 Everything is sparkling with dewy crystals. The spar- 
 rows, chirping merrily, hop about the moist and vapor- 
 laden hedges. The damp, sweet air irritates my breast. 
 Spring, spring is coming ! I am sitting at the window, 
 looking out into the hazy distance far beyond the small 
 river. 
 
 Oh, Nature ! Nature ! I love thee so much ! But 
 from thy bosom has sprung forth a being who is unable 
 even to live ! There is a sparrow, hopping with ex- 
 tended wings and tail. He chirps loudly, and each 
 sound of his voice, each bristling feather on his little 
 body, betokens health and strength. Now, what of 
 that ? .Nothing. The sparrow is healthy, and has a 
 right to chirp and bustle about. I am sick, and must 
 die. That is all. It was foolish of me to make a re- 
 mark about it. Tearful addresses to Nature are very 
 ridiculous. Let me resume my narrative. 
 
 The manner in which I grew up, I said, was foolish 
 and destitute of enjoyment. I had neither brothers nor 
 sisters, and was educated at home. With whom would 
 my mother busy herself if I had been sent to school ? 
 Children come into the world in order to afford pastime 
 for their parents. "We generally lived in the village, 
 but at times we spent a few weeks in Moscow. I had 
 my teachers and mentors, as is customary. I remember 
 one of them in particular a lean and tearful German, 
 Rickman by name. He was an unusually sad individual, 
 and of a mournful disposition. He was consumed by an
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 67 
 
 ardent but fruitless yearning after his distant fatherland. 
 Sometimes my unshaven uncle, Vassil, dressed in his 
 everlasting thick blue frock, would sit near the hot stove 
 in the close anteroom, the air of which was saturated 
 with the sour smell of kvass,* and while he played cards 
 with the driver, Potapoff, who was clad in a white 
 sheepskin cloak and heavy tarred boots, Kickrnan, be- 
 hind the Spanish wall, would sing : 
 
 " Herz, mein Herz, warum so traurig, 
 
 Was bekiiemmert dich so sehr ? 
 'S ist ja schoen iin fremden Lande, 
 
 Herz, mein Herz, was willst du mehr?" 
 
 After the death of my father we went to live in Mos- 
 cow. I was then twelve years old. My father died at 
 night of apoplexy. 1 shall never forget that night. I 
 was sleeping soundly, as children generally do, but I re- 
 member that even in my sleep I heard a regular and 
 heavy snoring. Suddenly somebody shook me by the 
 shoulder. 1 opened my eyes : Uncle Vassil stood before 
 me. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Get up, get up Alexey Michailovitch is dying." 
 
 1 jumped out of bed like a madman. With one leap 
 I was in the dormitory. Father was lying with his head 
 thrown back, his face red, and deep sounds issuing from 
 his throat. At the door there was a throng of people 
 with frightened faces. In the antechamber somebody 
 asked, in a loud voice, " Has a physician been sent 
 for ?" In the yard the gates of the stable creaked on 
 their hinges, horses' feet were splashing in the mud, 
 
 * Kvass is prepared of water which is left standing for some time 
 on rye-yeast until it becomes quite sour. The beverage is used 
 throughout Russia as a refreshing drink. H. G.
 
 68 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 and Potapoff's voice resounded in a multitude of oaths. 
 A tallow candle burned on the floor of the room. My 
 mother was bustling about, without losing sight, how- 
 ever, either of respectability or of the consciousness of 
 her own dignity. 
 
 I fell on my father's breast crying, " Papa, dear 
 papa !" He did not move, but his face became wrinkled 
 in a strange manner. I looked at him, and was seized 
 with a terror, so that I could hardly breathe. I 
 ecreamed from fright, as screams a bird when suddenly 
 caught by a rough hand. Somebody raised me and took 
 me out of the room. Only the previous day my father 
 had fondled me so affectionately, with such a sad expres- 
 sion in his countenance, as if he had a presentiment of 
 his approaching end. A sleepy and unshaven physician 
 came into the room ; a strong smell of rye-brandy came 
 into the room with him. My father died under his 
 lancet. 
 
 The next day I stood, with a burning candle in my 
 hand, before the table on which the remains of my 
 father were laid out. I was all benumbed, and listened 
 mechanically to the funeral service recited by the 
 deacon in a very deep voice, at times interrupted by the 
 shrill voice of the minister. Tears were streaming down 
 over my cheeks, my lips, my collar, my shirt-front ; I 
 was melting with tears without any feeling in my breast. 
 My gaze was fixed on my father's face, as if I expected 
 to hear him speak. My mother in the mean time was 
 majestically performing her religious devotion. She 
 slowly bowed down, touching the ground with her fore- 
 head, slowly arose and crossed herself at every bow, 
 pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead, breast, 
 and shoulders. There was not a single thought in my 
 head of that time, but I felt that something fearful was
 
 DIAI?Y OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. G9 
 
 occurring before me. Death looked into my face, and 
 took good notice of me. 
 
 After the death of my father, we went to live in 
 Moscow for a very simple reason : everything we pos- 
 sessed had been sold under the auctioneer's hammer 
 everything except one small village, the same in which 
 I am now ending my glorious existence. I must confess 
 that, notwithstanding my tender age, I felt really sorry 
 for the loss of our nest. I was especially grieved to lose 
 our garden. With that garden were associated the only 
 bright recollections I had. In the silence of one spring 
 evening I buried there my best friend, our old dog Tris- 
 ka, who had a short tail and crooked legs. Hiding my- 
 self in the bushes of that garden, I consumed the apples 
 I had stolen^red, sweet apples, real Novogorodians. 
 Among the raspberry bushes of that garden I for the 
 first time noticed our new waiting-maid, Avdotia, who, 
 notwithstanding her flat nose and her foolish habit of 
 covering her face with a handkerchief while she giggled, 
 awakened in me such a tender passion that I could hardly 
 breathe in her presence. And once upon an Easter Sun- 
 day, when her turn came to kiss my noble hand, I felt 
 like throwing myself at her feet and kissing her old 
 dusty leather boots. 
 
 Have really twenty years passed since all this oc- 
 curred ? It seems but a short time since I was riding on 
 my shaggy chestnut pony along the old hedge of our 
 garden, and raised myself in the stirrup to tear some 
 double-colored leaves from an abele-tree. Life is like a 
 sound : perceived only some time after it has passed. 
 
 Oh, that garden ! those moss-covered pathways around 
 the pond ; that small gravel plain beneath the dike, 
 where I used to fish for gudgeons and loches ; and you, 
 the lofty birches, with your suspended reeds, through
 
 70 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS AN. 
 
 which the plaintive song of the peasant and the irregular 
 twag of the broken wheel of his cart penetrated from the 
 village road : I send you my last farewell ! Taking 
 leave of life, I extend my arms to you to you alone ! 
 Oh, how I would desire to breathe once more the sharp, 
 fresh air of our plains ; to inhale once more the sweet 
 fragrance of a buckwheat harvest in the fields of my 
 native clime ! How my heart yearns to hear once, only 
 once more, the hoarse chiming of the cracked village- 
 church bell from the distance ; to lie once more in the 
 cooling shadow of the oak near the familiar declivity ; 
 to follow with my eyes the course of the wind passing 
 swiftly, like a black wave, over the yellow grass of the 
 meadows ! 
 
 Ah, why all this ? But I cannot proeeed to-day 
 until to-morrow. 
 
 March 22. 
 
 It is cold and cloudy to-day. Such weather is more 
 convenient ; it agrees better with the nature of my 
 work. Yesterday's weather aroused in me, quite un- 
 seasonably, a great many unwonted feelings and recol- 
 lections. This shall never occur again. Sentimental 
 outbursts are like licorice root : it pleases the taste at 
 first, and leaves a nausea behind for a long time after- 
 ward. I shall now calmly and simply proceed with the 
 story of my life. 
 
 And so we went to live in Moscow. But there occurs 
 to me the question, Is it really worth while writing my 
 biography ? No. Positively not ! 
 
 The story of my life is not different from that of a 
 great many others. There is the paternal home, the 
 university, service in lowly offices, handing in resigna- 
 tions, a small circle of acquaintances, whitewashed pov- 
 erty, modest enjoyments, humble employments, moder-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN". 71 
 
 ate desires, and so forth. For goodness' sake, who does 
 not know all this ? I shall, therefore, not write my biog- 
 raphy. I am writing for my own pleasure, and noth- 
 ing of an extraordinary character ever happened to me ; 
 nothing either very pleasant or very sad that should be 
 worth while recording. It would be better if I were to 
 analyze my own character. 
 
 What kind of a person am I ? 
 
 The remark might be made here that nobody asks this 
 question about me. I grant it. But I am dying ; and 
 is it not excusable if a person tries to find out before his 
 death what kind of a creature he is ? 
 
 Considering well this important question, and having no 
 special reason to use very hard expressions against myself 
 -as is the general practice of people who are confident 
 of their high significance I must say that I have been 
 quite a superfluous man in this world ; or, if it suit you 
 better, say a superfluous creature. I shall demonstrate 
 to-morrow the correctness of this assertion. To-day I 
 am coughing like an old sheep, and Terentievna, my 
 nurse, does not give me a moment's rest. " Lie down, 
 master, dear ; lie down, and take some tea," she insists. 
 I know why she wants me to do so ; she desires a cup of 
 tea herself. Well, for my part, let her have it. Why 
 not allow the poor old woman to extract all possible 
 benefit from her master as long as she has the opportu- 
 nity for it ? 
 
 March 23. 
 
 Winter again. The snow falls in large flakes. Super- 
 fluous ! superfluous ! what an excellent word I have 
 hit upon. The deeper I penetrate into the analysis of 
 my character, the more do I become convinced of the 
 exactness of this expression. I am superfluous, of 
 course. To other persons this designation does not
 
 72 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 apply. Other persons may be good or bad, wise or 
 foolish, agreeable or disagreeable ; but superfluous peo- 
 ple there are none. I do not mean to say that the 
 world could not exist without any of them ; the world 
 could just as well do without them, but uselessness is 
 not their chief characteristic ; being superfluous is not 
 their distinctive quality, and such a designation will 
 never enter your mind when you speak of them. And 
 I what else can be said of me? "A superfluous 
 man," and that is all ; " one beyond the required num- 
 ber," and nothing more. It appears as if Nature had 
 not counted upon my coming into the world, and in con- 
 sequence thereof, she treated me as an unexpected, un- 
 wanted visitor. A witty fellow, a great lover of prefer- 
 ence,* once made a very just remark, narrating some- 
 thing about my mother. He said : " It happened be- 
 fore you were born. Your mother was at that time only 
 burdened with you." I am now speaking of myself 
 very calmly, without any bitter feeling. Why, it is a 
 matter of the past now. 
 
 During my whole life I always found my place taken ; 
 the reason of it may be that I sought that place not 
 where I ought. I was irritable, timid, and sensitive, 
 as all sick persons are. There was constantly an irra- 
 tional, inexplicable, and insurmountable barrier between 
 my thoughts and feelings, and between the expression of 
 the same ; it was due either to my selfishness or to the 
 infelicitous structure of my figure. Whenever I re- 
 solved to overcome this difficulty, to surmount this bar- 
 rier, my motions and my facial expressions became so 
 unnatural that my whole being assumed a perplexing 
 awkwardness. I not only appeared unnatural and stiff, 
 
 * A card-play which is very popular with the better classes of Rus- 
 sian society.
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 73 
 
 but I really was so. I felt it, and hastily beat a retreat. 
 But then a fearful storm arose within me. I com- 
 menced to analyze myself minutely, compare myself 
 with others, recalled to memory the most insignificant 
 looks, smiles, and remarks of those before whom I 
 wished to display myself, placed everything in the 
 worst light, frowned and laughed at my pretensions " to 
 be like others. " And in the midst of that laughter I 
 would suddenly become heavy ; an unspeakable sadness 
 would oppress my breast, and I would recommence 
 again my speculations and criticisms on myself. In 
 short, I was turning like a squirrel in its wheel-cage. I 
 used to spend days and nights in this tantalizing and use- 
 less task. Now, for mercy's sake, let any one say, Who 
 wants such a person, and for what use is he in the world ? 
 Why have such things occurred with me ? What was 
 the cause of this trifling strife with and within myself ? 
 Who knows ? Who can tell ? 
 
 I remember I wa& once riding in a stage-coach to Mos- 
 cow. The road was very good, and the dri ver had add- 
 ed to the team of four a fifth horse. This unhappy 
 and altogether useless mare was in some way attached to 
 the forward part of the vehicle with a short rope which 
 was mercilessly cutting her thigh and tail, and caused 
 her to run in a most unnatural manner, giving to her 
 whole body the miserable appearance of a hanger-on. 
 She aroused my deepest sympathy, and I remarked to 
 the driver that he could well do without a fifth horse. 
 He paused a second, shook his head, and drawing in the 
 poor animal belabored her with his knout, remarking, 
 not without a frown : 
 
 " The d 1 knows. Hung herself on, indeed !" 
 1 am also a hanger-on. But it is well the station is 
 not far.
 
 74 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAST. 
 
 Yes, I am superfluous. 1 engaged to prove the fit- 
 ness of this term, and I intend to keep my promise. 
 But I do not consider it necessary to mention a thousand 
 trifles of every-day life, which might be sufficient to es- 
 tablish my idea in the mind of every thinking man. I 
 shall rather narrate one incident of my life, which proves 
 how exactly the designation " superfluous" applies to 
 me. I cannot, however, pass in silence one very cu- 
 rious and noteworthy circumstance namely, how 
 strangely I was treated by my friends (I also had some 
 friends) when they happened to meet me, or when I 
 called on them. They became uneasy when they saw 
 me, and when they came to meet me they smiled in an 
 unnatural manner. They did not look straight in my 
 eyes or down to my boots, as others do, but they looked 
 somehow past my cheek. They hastily shook hands 
 with me, hastily exclaimed, "Ah, how do you do, 
 Chulkaturin ?" (Providence has favored me with this 
 euphonious appellation) ; or, " Ah, there is Chulka- 
 turin !" Then they would step aside ; sometimes they 
 would pause as if trying to recollect something. 
 
 I noticed all this, for Providence has not deprived me 
 of a penetrating and observing nature. In fact, I am 
 not foolish at all. Sometimes even very curious ideas 
 occurred to me. But as I am a superfluous man, and 
 there being a kind of a lock within me, I was always 
 backward in giving utterance to my ideas, the more so 
 since I knew beforehand that I would express myself 
 very foolishly. I sometimes even wondered how other 
 persons could speak so easily and so fluently. " What a 
 chick !" I thought, when I heard them,, I must con- 
 fess, however, that my tongue itched very often, not- 
 withstanding the little lock within me, but I actually in- 
 dulged in the luxury of speaking only in my childhood.
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 75 
 
 In a riper age I always mastered such desires. When- 
 ever a desire to say something arose within me, I said to 
 iiiy>elf, "Let us rather be silent a little," and in this 
 manner I calmed myself. 
 
 Our special greatness consists generally in silence. 
 Our women above all make their greatest conquests with 
 their silence. A noble Russian maiden will sometimes 
 maintain such a majestic silence that, no matter how a 
 man might be prepared for such a sight, he will be 
 thrown into a cold perspiration in her august presence. 
 But I have no business to criticise other people ; I shall 
 proceed with my narrative. 
 
 A few years ago I had occasion to spend a few months 
 
 in the corporate town of O . Some circumstances, 
 
 very trifling in themselves, but of great importance to 
 me, were the cause of it. This town is built on the de- 
 clivity of a hill, in a very inconvenient manner. It con- 
 tains about eight hundred inhabitants, who live in great 
 poverty. The houses have neither shape nor form. 
 Threatening blocks of sandstone start from beneath the 
 pavement of the principal street, so that all wagons are 
 obliged to evade it. In the middle of an amazingly 
 dirty square, there are some yellowish booths with dark 
 holes, in which there are some men with immensely 
 large fur caps on their heads, who assume the appear- 
 ance of doing business. Near these huts a very high 
 pole, painted with gay colors, is placed. Near that polo 
 stands a wagon of yellow hay, by order of the authori- 
 ties, for the sake of good order, you know. So also one 
 or two chickens, the property of the authorities, lounge 
 about there for the same reason. In short, life is very 
 gay in the corporate town of O . 
 
 The first few days of my stay there I almost went 
 crazy with ennui. So much I must say of myself, that
 
 76 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 although I am a superfluous man, it is not my own 
 choice to be so. I am sick myself, but I detest the 
 sight of every sickly thing. I would not even turn 
 away from happiness ay, I tried even to approach it 
 from one side and from the other. Well, no wonder 
 then that I can feel " blue," like all other mortals. I 
 was at O on some official business. 
 
 Terentievna has actually sworn to tantalize me to 
 death. Here is a specimen of our dialogue : 
 
 She. " Oh-o-o, master dear, why do you write so 
 much ?" 
 
 7. " I feel blue, Terentievna." 
 
 She. " You had better take a few cups of tea and lie 
 down. God granting, you will perspire a little and fall 
 asleep." 
 
 7. " But I do not want to sleep." 
 
 She. " Oh, master dear, how can you say so? Lie 
 down, lie down, it will do you good." 
 
 7. "I shall die anyhow, Terentievna." 
 
 She. " God have mercy ! Well, then, do you order 
 some tea ?" 
 
 7. "I will not live one week more. ' ' 
 
 She. " Oh-o-o, oh, oh ! How can you speak like 
 that, master dear ? I will go and put on the tea- 
 kettle." 
 
 Oh, feeble, yellow, toothless creature ! Am I nobody 
 even for thee ? 
 
 March 24 A strong frost. 
 
 By reason of the official business which brought me 
 
 to O , I called on a certain Mr. Ojogin the very day 
 
 of my arrival. Mr. Ojogin Kirrilla Matveyevitch was 
 his Christian name occupied an important position. 
 About a fortnight after my introduction I became well 
 acquainted with him. His house stood on the principal
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 77 
 
 thoroughfare of the town and was distinguishable from 
 all other houses by its enormous size, its painted roof, 
 and by two lions that were stationed at its gates. The 
 lions were of the genus that has a striking resemblance 
 to crippled dogs ; their native land is Moscow. The 
 lions alone were sufficient evidence that their owner was 
 an opulent man. Mr. Ojogin owned about four hundred 
 
 serfs. The best society of O called at his house, 
 
 and he was reputed a hospitable man. 
 
 Among the visitors of Mr. Ojogin were the following 
 gentlemen : The administrator of the town, a gentle- 
 man of vast proportions, whose appearance reminded 
 one of a coat which has been cut out of cheap material ; 
 he used to come in a buggy drawn by a pair of dirty- 
 colored horses ; the attorney-general, a yellowish, ill- 
 natured little creature ; the surveyor, a witty gentleman 
 of German extraction, with a Moorish face ; an officer 
 of the connection roads' department, a tender soul a 
 singer, but a fearful gossipper ; the ex -governor of the 
 district, a gentleman witli dyed hair, a crumpled shirt- 
 front, pantaloons with straps, and with that most noble 
 facial expression which is generally procured by a pro- 
 tracted career through the courts of justice ; finally, 
 there were two land-owners, inseparable friends. The 
 last were both elderly men, but the junior of them ex- 
 ercised great control over his senior. He always made 
 him hold his peace by force of one and the same remark : 
 " You had better hold your tongue, Sergey Sergeye- 
 vitch," he would say, when the other attempted to 
 speak. " How can you desire to express an opinion, since 
 you do not even know how to write the word cork f 
 Yes, gentlemen," he would add, addressing the com- 
 pany, " Sergey Sergey evitch spells the word with a g 
 he writes it gork ;" and all present would commence to
 
 78 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAW. 
 
 g 
 
 laugh, although I could not say whether there were any 
 among them well skilled in the art of orthography. The 
 poor Sergey Sergeyevitch would then become silent, and 
 incline his head, with a feeble smile. 
 
 But I forget that my time is too limited for such 
 minute descriptions. To be brief, Ojogin was a mar- 
 ried man : he had a daughter, Elizabetta Kirrilovna by 
 name, and I fell in love with that daughter of his. 
 Ojogin himself was a man of the general run ; neither 
 good nor bad. His wife was somewhat like an over- 
 aged chicken. But their daughter was unlike either of 
 them. She was very pretty, and of a lively but tender 
 temperament. Her bright gray eyes beamed kindly and 
 looked straight forward from beneath her childishly ele- 
 vated brows. She always smiled, and very often in- 
 dulged in a hearty laugh. Her fresh, youthful voice 
 sounded very agreeably, her motions were easy and 
 quick, and when she blushed there was an air of merri- 
 ment about her. She dressed herself not very extrava- 
 gantly i-imple dresses became her best. 
 
 I was always slow in making acquaintances, and if I 
 felt easy in the presence of a new acquaintance (which, 
 however, happened very seldom), this spoke highly in 
 favor of that person. But I never knew how to treat 
 ladies. In their presence I made either sour or very wry 
 faces, or I grinned in the most foolish manner, and 
 chewed my tongue in confusion. But with Elizabetta 
 Kirrilovna I felt at home the very first time I met her. 
 This is how it happened : 
 
 I once called on Ojogin in the forenoon. I asked 
 whether he was at home, and was informed that he was 
 just dressing, and was requested to wait for him in the 
 parlor. I entered the parlor and saw a young lady 
 dressed in white standing with her face toward the win-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 79 
 
 dow, and with a bird's cage in her hand. I became a 
 little agitated as usual, but I made an effort and coughed 
 slightly by way of announcing my presence. The young 
 lady turned quickly, so quickly that her long curls 
 struck her in the face, and noticing me, she made a 
 courtesy ; showing me a small box half filled with grains, 
 she said, with a smile : 
 
 " You have no objection ?" 
 
 I, of course, according to the custom of politeness, in- 
 clined my head, and at the same time quickly bent and 
 straightened out my knees, as though somebody had 
 struck me in the joints from behind, which motion is 
 well known to be a sign of good education and of an 
 agreeable and social disposition ; then I smiled, and 
 waved my hand once or twice in the air. 
 
 The young lady immediately turned away, took out of 
 the cage a small board, began to scrub it energetically 
 with a knife, and without changing her position, said to 
 me : 
 
 " This is my father's redfinch. Do you like red- 
 finches ?" 
 
 " I prefer aberdevines," I rejoined, not without an 
 effort. 
 
 " I also like aberdevines. But look at this one is he 
 not a beauty ? Come, look at him ; don't be afraid," 
 she continued, while I was wondering why she was not 
 afraid of me. " Step nearer and look at him. His 
 name is Popka. " 
 
 I stepped nearer and bowed down to the bird. 
 
 " Is he not lovely ?" she exclaimed, turning to me. 
 
 "We stood so near each other that she had to throw her 
 head back in order to look at me. I looked at her feat- 
 ures. Her whole young, rosy, well-rounded face smiled 
 so heartily that I could not help responding with a smile,
 
 80 DIAHY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 and could hardly control myself so as not to laugh for 
 pleasure looking at her. 
 
 The door opened, and Mr. Ojogin entered the room. 
 I immediately began to converse with him very gayly. 
 I do not know how it happened, but I stayed there for 
 dinner, and remained until late in the evening. When 
 I again called on the Ojogins the next day, their foot- 
 man, a dry-boned fellow with weak eyes, smiled to me 
 as to a house-friend, while he helped me out of my 
 overcoat. 
 
 As a superfluous man, having no recollection of a 
 peaceful, domestic life, I had never yet thought of the 
 happiness of having a nest of my own, of the felicity 
 of daily intercourse and association with a person whose 
 interests and habits should be intertwined with those of 
 my own. If there "was anything in me similar to a 
 flower, and if it were not such a hackneyed metaphor, I 
 would say that I blossomed since the first day of my 
 acquaintance with Liza. Everything within and around 
 me assumed a new aspect. My whole life became 
 bright with love yes, my whole life. Like a dark and 
 deserted room in which a candle has been suddenly 
 lighted, so my life became bright all of a sudden. I 
 went to bed, ate my meals, smoked my pipe in short, 
 I did everything in a manner quite different from that 1 
 had ever had before ; even my step became lighter than 
 usual, as if I had wings grown on my shoulders. 
 
 I was not for a moment in doubt with regard to the 
 sentiment aroused in me by Elizabetta Kirrilovna. I 
 fell desperately in love with her the first time I saw 
 her, and I knew forthwith that I was in love. For 
 three weeks I met her every day. These three weeks 
 were the happiest in my life, but the recollection of 
 them is heavy, very heavy indeed. I cannot think of
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 81 
 
 them alone. With the recollection of those happy days, 
 all that subsequently occurred conies to my mind, and 
 my heart, which begins to soften at the memory of 
 happiness, becomes oppressed with the weight of mis* 
 fortune that succeeded it. 
 
 It is a well-known fact that when a person feels very 
 good his brains work very little. A quiet and gladsome 
 feeling, a feeling of satisfaction, penetrates his whole 
 being ; it masters him entirely, and his individuality 
 becomes lost in it; "he is in felicity," as the badly- 
 educated poets express themselves. But when at last 
 " the minutes of enchantment'' pass away, he sometimes 
 feels sorry that he thought so little in the time of happi- 
 ness, that he did not by consideration and reflection aug- 
 ment that "felicity;" as if a man "in felicity" ever 
 had time to stop and think, or as though it were worth 
 his while to do so. A man " in felicity" is like unto a 
 fly which is basking in sunlight. 
 
 This is the reason why I cannot find in my memory 
 any clear and definite idea of the impression love had 
 made upon me ; and, besides this, nothing noteworthy 
 had passed between us during that time. These twenty 
 days appear Tinto me like some warm, young, fragrant 
 feeling like a bright streak in my sombre gray life. 
 But my memory becomes mercilessly exact and clear 
 when 1 think of the time " the blasts of misfortune 
 began to fall upon my head," speaking in the language 
 of the same badly-educated poets. 
 
 Yes, those three weeks ! But I cannot say that they 
 have left in my memory no images whatever. Some- 
 times when I think of them for a long time, some recol- 
 lections swim out of the dim past, just like new stars ap- 
 pear in the firmament to a person whose eyes are assid- 
 uously fixed on one spot. I remember especially one
 
 82 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 walk we took together in a forest. Our company con- 
 sisted of four persons : Mrs. Ojogin, Liza, I, and a cer- 
 tain fourth or fifth rate officer at the town of O , a 
 
 fair-complexioned, good-natured, and quiet little man 
 Bizmenkoff by name. I shall have to speak of him 
 hereafter in my story. Mr. Ojogin himself was not of 
 the party. He had taken a long nap in the hot after- 
 noon, got a headache, and could not go out. It was a 
 beautiful day, the air was quiet and clear. 
 
 I must remark here that public gardens do not agree 
 with the spirit of the Russian people. In the so-called 
 public gardens of the large cities, you will never meet a 
 living soul, except, perhaps, sometimes a coughing and 
 groaning old woman sitting on a green bench, near a 
 sickly tree, to rest herself ; but even she would not be 
 there if there was near by a dirty little bench at the gate 
 of some house. But if there is in the neighborhood of a 
 town a small forest of birch-trees, all the merchants, 
 sometimes even the official dignitaries of that place, are 
 sure to turn out thither on Sundays arid holidays. 
 They will take along their tea-kettles, cakes, and squash 
 gourds, lay out all these blessings on the dusty grass, 
 right near the road, and eat and drink tea, in the ssveat 
 of their countenances, until nightfall. 
 
 Just such a forest existed in the vicinity of O , 
 
 about two versts distant from the town. Thither our 
 company repaired after dinner. We sat down and 
 drank our tea as the custom is and afterward went for 
 a stroll in the forest. Bizmenkoff gave his arm to Mrs. 
 Ojogin, and I escorted Liza. The day was beginning to 
 decline. I was then in the very heat of first love. (It 
 was about a fortnight after I had made her acquaint- 
 ance.) I was in that state of passionate adoration when 
 the soul of the lover follows instinctively and umvit-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 83 
 
 tingly after the slightest motion of his beloved ; when 
 he cannot have enough of her presence, cannot hear 
 enough of her voice ; when he is constantly smiling like 
 a child that is just recovering from a protracted sick- 
 ness, and a man of any experience in the world can 
 divine at the first glance what is going on within him. 
 Before that day I never had had the opportunity of 
 holding Liza's arm. 
 
 I was walking with her, stepping lightly on the green 
 grass. A slight breeze was moving around us from 
 between the stems of the lofty birches, at times throw- 
 ing the ribbons of her hat into my face. I diligently 
 followed the motions of her eyes until she turned them 
 toward me cheerfully, and we both smiled to one an- 
 other. The birds chirped approvingly over us, and the 
 blue sky glimpsed kindly on us from between the thin 
 foliage. My head was dizzy from too much pleasure. 
 
 I hasten to remark that Liza was not in love with me 
 at all. She liked me, as she generally was not timid with 
 strangers, but I was not the person to trouble her child- 
 ish heart. She held me by the arm as she would hold a 
 brother. She was then seventeen years old. And yet, 
 that very evening, and before my own eyes, there arose 
 within her that deep and secret yearning which betokens 
 the changing of a girl into a woman. I witnessed this 
 changing of her whole being ; this innocent uncertainty ; 
 this restless thonghtfulness. I was the first to notice the 
 sudden, harmonious change of her voice ; and, fool that 
 I am ! superfluous being that I am ! for a whole week 
 afterward 1 was not ashamed to imagine that I was the 
 cause of all that change. Here is how it happened : 
 
 We were walking for some time and speaking very 
 little to one another. I was silent, like all inexperienced 
 lovers are, and she probably because she had nothing
 
 84 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 to tell me. But it seemed as though she were thinking 
 of something. She shook her head in a peculiar 
 manner, and thoughtfully chewed a reed which she had 
 broken on the way. At times she would begin to walk 
 ahead energetically, and then she would stand still wait 
 ing for me and looking around, smiling thoughtfully. 
 The night previous I read to her " The Captive of Cau- 
 casia."* How eagerly she listened to me ; her head re- 
 clined on the palms of both hands, and her breast press- 
 ing to the table. I began to speak about last night's 
 reading. She blushed, asked me whether I had not for- 
 gotten to give the finch some hemp-seed, commenced in 
 a loud voice some lively little song, and then all at once 
 became silent. 
 
 The forest terminated on the top of a steep hill, at the 
 foot of which was a small winding river, and on the 
 other side of the river there were vast meadows, ex- 
 tending far, far in the hazy distance as far as the eyes 
 could reach. At some places, beautiful elevations were 
 to be seen, just like waves on a quiet pond, caused by a 
 slight breath of wind ; at others, the ground was lying 
 like a rich unrolled carpet, variegated with the freshest 
 and sweetest of flowers, and at times interspersed with 
 narrow drains filled with clear water. Liza and I arrived 
 at the end of the forest a few minutes before our com- 
 panions. Emerging from the woods we were both daz- 
 zled with the beauty of the scene. Before us, in the 
 midst of the glowing mist, was the setting sun like a 
 ball of tire. The horizon was playing with all shades of 
 red, sending scarlet rays obliquely on the meadows be- 
 fore us, crimsoning the shady sides of the eminences, 
 and falling like fiery lead even on the waters. It seemed 
 as though all the rays of the sun were directed against 
 * This is one of the best poems of Pushkin.
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN". 85 
 
 the hill on which we stood, and against the wood from 
 which we emerged. "We stood there, so to say, bathing 
 in a blazing stream of light. 
 
 I am not able to depict the solemn magnificence of 
 that scene. It is said of a blind person that the red 
 colors had the same effect upon him when he touched 
 them as the sound of a trumpet has on the ear. I do 
 not know how* much truth there is in that statement ; 
 but really there was something soul-stirring in the sight 
 of that inflamed evening sky, in that crimsoning lustre 
 of heaven and earth. I shouted in ecstasy and looked at 
 Liza ; she was looking at the sun, and that burning ball 
 was reflected in her eyes by two fiery sparks. She was 
 affected by the sight ; her heart was throbbing with 
 emotion. But she did not respond to my exclama- 
 tion. She stood motionless, with her head inclined 
 to the ground. I looked at her in silent amazement and 
 full of delight. I extended my hand to her, but she 
 turned away, and tears appeared in her eyes. 
 
 Bizmenkoff's voice was heard within a few steps of 
 us. Liza hastily wiped her tears and turned to me with 
 a timid smile. Mrs. Ojogin came out of the forest sup- 
 ported by the arm of her fair-complexioned escort ; they 
 also admired the view that was before us. The old 
 woman asked Liza something, and I remember that I 
 shivered slightly when 1 heard her answer with an un- 
 certain, hoarse voice, like that of a cracked glass. In 
 the mean time the sun disappeared, the evening ap- 
 proached, we repaired homeward, and I offered my arm 
 to Liza. There was yet light enough so that I could 
 clearly see her features. She seemed to be troubled, 
 and did not raise her eyes. Her cheeks were glowing 
 as if the rays of the setting sun were yet directed toward 
 her ; her hand rested lightly on my arm. I could not
 
 86 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 converse for a long while, so great was my emotion. 
 Our carriage appeared between the trunks of the trees ; 
 the driver slowly came toward us ; we could hear the 
 wheels grating in the sand. 
 
 " Lizabetta Kirrilovna," said I at last, "why did 
 you begin to cry ?" 
 
 " I do not know," she rejoined, after a moment's 
 silence, and looked at me with her soft,- gray eyes, yet 
 wet with tears. It seemed to me that the expression of 
 those eyes was entirely changed. 
 
 " I see you love nature," I continued. I could hardly 
 pronounce* these few words, so great was my emotion, 
 but this was not what I wanted to say. She silently 
 nodded her head by way of assent. I could not speak 
 one word more. I inwardly expected something. Not 
 for a confession of love how so ? I waited for a con- 
 fiding glance, for a question but Liza looked to the 
 ground and was silent. I muttered again, " Why ?" 
 and received no answer. I noticed that she felt uneasy, 
 almost ashamed. Fifteen minutes afterward we were 
 all sitting in the carriage. Our horses were trotting 
 lightly on the road, and we moved through the darken- 
 ing, moist air toward the town. I suddenly became 
 very garrulous, spoke much to Bizmenkoff, to Mrs. 
 Ojogin, and did not look at Liza ; but I noticed that 
 she did not glance at me a single time from her corner in 
 the carriage. At home she roused herself a little, but 
 refused to read with me, and went to bed early. That 
 crisis the crisis of which I spoke before had passed 
 on her ; she ceased to be a girl, and like myself com- 
 menced to expect something. But she had not long to 
 wait. 
 
 I returned home that night all enchanted. There was 
 at first a faint feeling in my breast akin to an evil pre-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 87 
 
 sentiment or suspicion ; but it soon vanished. The stiff 
 deportment of Liza toward me I ascribed to maidenly 
 bashfulness and timidity. Had not I read in a thousand 
 novels that the first feeling of love in a maiden fright- 
 ens and confuses her at its generation ? I felt very 
 happy, and began to make plans for the future. 
 
 If somebody had then whispered in my ear : " Non- 
 sense, my friend, that is not what is destined for you. 
 Your destination is to die lonesome, in a shattered little 
 house, compelled to listen to the husky raillery of an old 
 peasant woman, who will be anxiously waiting for your 
 death, in order that she shall be at liberty to sell your 
 boots for a few kopecks. " Yes, unwittingly the words 
 of a great Kussian philosopher come to my mind, " How 
 shall a person know what he does not know ?" 
 
 Until to-morrow. 
 
 March 25 A white winter day. 
 
 I read over what I wrote yesterday, and felt like tear- 
 ing up the manuscript. It seems to me that my narra- 
 tive is written too circumstantially, and in too sweet a 
 style. But as the succeeding events I propose to narrate 
 are akin to those of which "Lermontoff expresses himself 
 so well u It is both joyous and painful to touch the old 
 scars" why should not I allow myself this painful 
 pleasure ? It is true, a person must keep himself within 
 certain bounds. I shall, therefore, proceed without affec- 
 tation. 
 
 For a whole week after our walk in the forest, my 
 condition did not change, although in Liza the change 
 was more noticeable every day. I explained the last 
 circumstance to my advantage. The misfortune of iso- 
 lated and timid persons timid because of their great 
 selfishness consists in this : that they never see a thing 
 in its true light, no matter how sharp-sighted they are,
 
 88 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 and how they may fix their eyes on one object. It is as 
 if they were looking through colored spectacles. Their 
 own thoughts and observations hinder them on every 
 side. Since our acquaintance, Liza's conduct toward me 
 was childish and confiding. It may be even that she 
 felt a kind of childish attachment toward me. But 
 when that strange change had occurred with her, she 
 began to feel somewhat uneasy in my presence ; she 
 often turned away from me unwillingly, with an expres- 
 sion of sadness and thoughtfulness in her eyes. She 
 was, so to say, in a state of expectation, not knowing 
 herself what she expected. And I was glad to observe 
 that change in her. I almost choked with joy ! I must 
 admit, however, that any other person in my place 
 would have been deceived by the same illusion ; for 
 who is devoid of conceit ? 
 
 It is not necessary to add that I did not understand 
 the true nature of - my position for some time ; my 
 phantasy had been soaring high until it burst like a 
 bubble. The misunderstanding between me and Liza 
 lasted for about a week, and there is nothing wonderful 
 in it. I have had occasion to observe misunderstandings 
 which lasted for years. And who says that only the 
 truth is real ? The lie exists as well as, if not better 
 than, the truth. I have a faint recollection that some 
 kind of misgiving had arisen in my mind even at that 
 time ; but one of our class isolated men is as unable 
 to judge about what is going on within him as he is un- 
 able to judge about what is transpiring before his eyes. 
 
 Besides that, is love a natural feeling ? Does love 
 enter in the normal condition of life ? No. Love is a 
 sickness, and there are no laws for sickness. Suppose 
 my heart did feel a little oppressed at that time ? Have 
 not my sentiments been confused ? And how in the
 
 DIAKY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN". 81) 
 
 world could I judge about one momentary feeling, 
 whether it meant for good or for evil what was its 
 cause and what its significance ? But however the case 
 may have been with the philosophical question concern- 
 ing my presentiments, feelings, and misconceptions, they 
 were soon to be dispelled, and I had to leam the real 
 value of them all in the following manner : 
 
 One morning, entering the Ojogins' house, I heard an 
 unfamiliar but sonorous voice speaking in the parlor. 
 While I was taking off my overcoat in the hall, the door 
 of the parlor opened, and out came a young man about 
 twenty-five years of age, with a very fine figure, accom- 
 panied by the host. He hastily took off his military 
 cloak that was hanging on the hat-stand, shook hands 
 with Kirrilla Matveyevitch, and passing me, he hurriedly 
 but politely touched the brim of his cap, and went off, 
 clinking with his spurs. 
 
 " Who is that ?" I asked Mr. Ojogin. 
 
 " Prince N ," he answered with a thoughtful air ; 
 
 " sent from St, Petersburg to take in charge the troop 
 of new recruits But where are all the people here ?" 
 he added, with displeasure. " There was not a person 
 here even to hand him his cloak." 
 
 u Is it long since he has been here ?" I asked again. 
 
 "lie arrived last evening. I offered him a room in 
 my house, but he refused to accept it. He seems to be 
 a very fine fellow. ' ' 
 
 " Has he been in your house long ?" 
 
 " About an hour or so. He desired to make the ac- 
 quaintance of Mrs. Ojogin." 
 
 " Have you introduced him ?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 " And Elizabetta Kirrilovna ?" 
 
 " He made her acquaintance too."
 
 90 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 I paused a moment. 
 
 " How long is he going to stay here ?" I asked again. 
 
 " About three or four weeks, I should think," was 
 the answer ; and Kirrilla Matveyevitch ran off to dress 
 herself. 
 
 I began to walk to and fro in the parlor. I do not 
 
 remember that the appearance of Prince IS" made 
 
 any special impression on me, except that it arouced 
 within me a feeling akin to that which people generally 
 perceive when a stranger is unexpectedly introduced into 
 their family circle. It may be that together with this 
 feeling there was also a kind of envy like that of a timo- 
 rous and insignificant native of Moscow before a brilliant 
 army officer of St. Petersburg. 
 
 " A prince !" I thought ; " a specimen of the capi- 
 tal ! He will look at us from on high. ' ' 
 
 I saw him for one minute only, and had occasion to 
 notice that he was good-looking, easy, and graceful. 
 
 Having paced the room a number of times. I stopped 
 before the mirror, drew out of my pocket a small comb 
 and fixed my hair, giving it a poetically negligent ap- 
 pearance. As often happens, I began to make obser- 
 vations on my countenance in the looking-glass. My 
 especial notice, I remember, was concentrated on my 
 nose. I was always dissatisfied with the softness and 
 the undecided lineaments of that member. Suddenly I 
 noticed in the dark background of the mirror that a door 
 opened, and Liza's straight figure appeared in it. I do 
 not know why, but I did not change my position or the 
 expression of my face. Liza put her head into the 
 room, looked attentively at me, and raising her eye- 
 brows and drawing in her under-lip like a person who is 
 pleased at remaining unnoticed, she very cautiously drew 
 herself back and quietly drew the door after her. The
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 91 
 
 door creaked slightly. Liza stopped for an instant. I 
 did not move. She finally closed it and disappeared. 
 
 There was nothing to doubt after this. The expres- 
 sion of Liza's face when she saw my figure meant 
 nothing else than a desire to be off fortunately to avoid 
 an unpleasant meeting. The sudden spark of pleasure in 
 her eyes when she thought I had not noticed her, 
 showed plainly that she did not love me. I looked at 
 the closed door for a long, long time ; it appeared in the 
 background of the mirror like a bleak spot. 
 
 I desired to laugh at my own stiif figure, but I bowed 
 my head, went home, and threw myself on the sofa. I 
 felt much oppressed so oppressed that I could not even 
 weep. And what had I to weep for ? Lying there like 
 dead on my back, with hands folded on my breast, I ex- 
 claimed aii innumerable number of times, " Is that so ? 
 Is that so ?" How does the reader like this query ? 
 
 March 26 A thaw. 
 
 The next day when I entered the familiar parlor of 
 Ojogin with a palpitating heart, and after a long strug- 
 gle with myself, I was no longer the man they had 
 known for the last three weeks. All my old whims, 
 which I had abandoned under the influence of the new 
 feeling that had been generated in my heart, had sud- 
 denly returned to me and had taken hold of my whole 
 being, like the owners of a house returning into it 
 after a short absence. Persons like myself generally do 
 not act according to existing facts, but according to con- 
 ceived impressions. Only the day before, I had been 
 filled with sweet anticipations of mutual love, and to- 
 day I was in despair on account of my misfortunes, 
 although I could not have had any reasonable cause for 
 either of these feelings. I could not possibly be jealous
 
 92 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 of Prince N ; no matter how great his merits, his 
 
 appearance alone was not sufficient to destroy Liza's 
 good disposition toward me. But had there ever been 
 such a good disposition ? I recalled to memory the in- 
 cidents of the past. 
 
 " And the walk in the forest ?" 1 asked myself. 
 
 " And the sight in the mirror ?" I retorted. 
 
 " But that evening, it seems " 
 
 I could not continue. 
 
 " Gracious me !" I exclaimed at last ; " what a-use- 
 less being I am, anyhow !" 
 
 Such unfinished thoughts and sentiments had been 
 whirling in my head. In short, I entered the house of 
 Ojogin the same irritable, suspicious, and stiff person 1 
 have been since my childhood. 
 
 I found the whole family assembled in the parlor, and 
 Bizrnerikoff, too, sitting there in a corner. They all 
 seemed to be in good spirits, especially Ojogin himself, 
 who was beaming with pleasure, and soon after the 
 
 formal salutation informed me that Prince N had 
 
 spent the last evening at his house. Liza greeted me 
 very composedly. 
 
 " Well," I thought, "I know why you are in good 
 spirits." 
 
 I must confess that the second visit of the prince ap- 
 peared to me very suspicious ; I did not expect that he 
 would call on the Ojogins a second time. Persons like 
 myself generally expect everything in the world except 
 that which is the most natural. I puffed up, and as- 
 sumed the air of an offended but generous person. I 
 desired to punish Liza with my displeasure. This shows 
 that I was. not in despair after all. It is said that, in 
 some cases, when a person is really beloved, it is very 
 good for him to tantalize a little the one he loves ; it is
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 93 
 
 a kind of incentive ; but in my case it was very foolish. 
 Liza remained unobservant of it in the most innocent 
 manner. Only old Mrs. Ojogin noticed my sullen 
 silence, and sympathetically asked me if I was well. Of 
 course I smiled bitterly, 'and said that I was thank 
 Providence very well. Ojogin continued to talk about 
 his new guest, but noticing .that 1 spoke unwillingly, 
 he turned to Bizmenkoff, who listened to him very at- 
 tentively. Suddenly the footman announced : 
 
 " His Excellency, Prince N" ." 
 
 The host jumped up and went to meet him. Liza, at 
 whom I looked with piercing eyes, blushed with pleas- 
 ure, and moved in her chair. The prince entered, all 
 sunshine, perfumed, good-humored, and polite. 
 
 As I am not composing a tale for the indulgent 
 reader, but simply am writing for my own pastime, I 
 will not have recourse to the usual schemes of com- 
 posers. I shall therefore state at once that Liza fell in 
 love with the prince as soon as she saw him ; he also 
 fell in love with her. It is no wonder that it happened 
 so ; partly because he had nothing else to do, and partly 
 because of his habit of turning women's heads, and also 
 because Liza was really a lovely girl. He, most prob- 
 ably, never expected to find such a pearl in such a dirty 
 
 shell as the accursed town of O ; and she had never 
 
 yet seen, even in her dreams, a man like this sparkling, 
 gay, considerate, and charming aristocrat. 
 
 After the first ceremonious salutations, I was intro- 
 duced to the prince. He treated me very courteously ; 
 he in general treated everybody courteously, notwith- 
 standing the great difference there was between him and 
 our poor, uncultured circle of insignificant individuals. 
 He behaved in such a manner that not only he did not 
 make others feel uneasy in his presence, but he himself
 
 94 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 assumed an appearance as if he were one like ourselves, 
 and as if his aristocratic family, and his living in the 
 metropolis, were mere accidental things of no conse- 
 quence whatever. 
 
 The first evening oh ! that first evening in his com- 
 pany ! I remember once, in the happy days of my 
 childhood, my teacher, desiring to illustrate to me an ex- 
 ample of manly endurance, told me the story of the 
 Lacedemonian youth who stole a fox and hid it under 
 his coat. That youth did not betray himself, even with 
 a sigh, when the fox was gnawing his bowels ; thus he 
 preferred the most painful death to public disgrace. I 
 cannot find any better illustration of the sufferings I en- 
 dured on that evening, when I for the first time saw the 
 prince near Liza. I must have cut a peculiar figure that 
 evening, with the forced smile stationary on my face, 
 with my keen and tantalizing glances, with my foolish 
 silence, and, at last, with my fruitless desire of being out 
 of the way. Truly, more than one fox was gnawing at 
 my bowels. There were jealousy, envy, helpless wrath, 
 and the feeling of my own nothingness which tormented 
 rne all at a time. I could not but admit that the prince 
 was a very agreeable young man. I could not turn my 
 eyes from him ; and really I think that, in spite of my 
 habit, I did not wink a single time the whole evening. 
 He did not address Liza only ; he spoke to everybody 
 present, but his whole conversation was for her alone. 
 I imagine that he was highly displeased with me that 
 evening. He probably conjectured at once that in me he 
 had a dispossessed lover, and out of pity to me, also on 
 account of his knowledge of how harmless I was, he ad- 
 dressed me in very kind terms. It is easy to imagine 
 how I felt about this kindness of his. 
 
 During the whole evening I tried to repair the wrong
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 95 
 
 I had done, for in the very midst of my sufferings I im- 
 agined (let not the reader of this manuscript laugh at me, 
 it was my last delusion) that Liza wanted to punish me 
 for the coldness I had shown toward her, that she was 
 angry with me and desired to tease me a little, and 
 therefore she flirted with the prince. At the first favor- 
 able opportunity I approached her with a quiet, kind 
 smile, and whispered, " That is enough. Excuse me. 
 I did not do it because I feared " And without wait- 
 ing for an answer I assumed a cheerful appearance, 
 pressed out a queer smile, and raised my hand toward 
 the ceiling (I remember I wanted to fix my necktie). I 
 proposed even to turn around on one leg, meaning to 
 show that all was finished, that I was all right and de- 
 sired everybody to be in good humor ; but I did not do 
 that for fear 1 might fall. Liza did not understand me, 
 of course. She looked at me with astonishment and 
 smiled hastily, as if desiring to get rid of me, and sat 
 down again near the prince. 
 
 Blind and deaf as I was the whole time, I could not 
 but notice that she never was angry or dissatisfied with 
 me ; she did not think of me at all. This was the last 
 blow. My last hope was crushed like an ice-mushroom 
 at the first ray of the sun. I was beaten by the first en- 
 counter, like the Prussians at Jena. In one day, at one 
 time, I lost everything. No, she never was angry at 
 me. Alas ! I noticed it, she was like a tree under- 
 washed by a passing stream ! Thus a young tree, already 
 separated from the coast by an inroad of the river, in- 
 clines itself more and more toward the current, ready to 
 drown in it the first bloom of its spring and even its 
 very life. He who ever had the opportunity to observe 
 such phases of emotion in the object he loved, without 
 being beloved, has experienced bitter, very bitter min-
 
 9G DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAJ*. 
 
 utes of life. I shall never forget the eager attention, 
 the tender joyfulness, the innocent forgetful ness, the 
 looks in which childishness and womanhood were 
 blended, the happy smile that beamed incessantly upon 
 her half-open lips and crimsoning cheeks. 
 
 All the dim presentiments that Liza had had at the 
 time of our walk in the forest, had now been realized, 
 and she had given herself entirely to love, and had 
 become, so to say, calm and clear. Thus fresh M-ine 
 does not ferment when it has attained its ripeness. 
 
 I had the patience 1o sit there that whole evening and 
 many succeeding evenings to the end. I could not hope 
 for anything. Liza and the prince had become more 
 and more attached to one another. But I had lost all 
 feeling of self-respect ; I could not tear myself away 
 from the sight of my misfortune. Once I tried not to 
 go there, I pledged my honor that I would stay at 
 home the whole evening ; but no sooner did the clock 
 strike eight (the usual time of my call was at seven), 
 than I took my hat and ran off to the Ojogins. My 
 condition was very inconvenient. I did not utter a 
 sound for days. I had never excelled in eloquence, as 
 I stated before, but at that time the few words I ever 
 had at my command vanished before the appearance of 
 the prince, and I remained like a hawk which had lost 
 its feathers. Besides this, I made my poor brain work 
 so hard when I was alone, analyzing everything I had 
 noticed and observed during the preceding evening, that 
 I was hardly able to make observations again the next 
 evening when 1 returned to the Ojogins. The latter 
 treated me with pity and consideration, as if I were a 
 sick person ; I noticed that too. 
 
 Every morning I adopted a new and definite resolu- 
 tion, which was the result of a sleepless night's specula-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAK. 97 
 
 tions. Sometimes I would resolve to have an explana- 
 tion with Liza, to give her some friendly advice. But 
 when I was alone with her my tongue became stiff as if 
 petrified, and we both spent the time in tormenting 
 silence, anxiously waiting for some third person to 
 come in and relieve us. Or I would make up my mind 
 to leave the place forever, of course leaving behind a 
 letter for Liza, full of reproaches and gall. I once even 
 commenced to write such a letter, but the sense of jus- 
 tice had not quitted me : it occurred to me that I had 
 no right or reason to reproach anybody, and I threw 
 the epistle in the fire. 
 
 At times, a generous impulse would master me. I 
 would resolve to sacrifice my sentiments for the benefit 
 of the one I adored, to bless her and desire her happiness 
 in love and life. At such moments I would glance at 
 the lovers with kindness and emotion. But they not 
 only did not thank me for my sacrifice, they did not 
 even notice it ; they had no need either of my generos- 
 ity or my smiles. Then I would become indignant, and 
 swear to revenge myself on my rival. I would take a 
 notion to wrap myself in a cloak like a Spaniard, wait 
 for the prince at some corner in the darkness of night, 
 and plunge my dagger into his breast. With ferocious 
 joy I would then imagine the despair of Liza. But first 
 of all there are very few such romantic corners in 
 O , and then the log hedges, the lanterns, the police 
 soldiers within every few steps. No, in such places, it 
 is more befitting to trade with cakes and apples than to 
 shed human blood. Among all such " means of re- 
 lease," as I termed my fancies, I thought also of speak- 
 ing to Ojogin himself, to direct the notice of that noble- 
 man to the dangerous position of his daughter and 
 the sad consequences of light-mindedness. Once even I
 
 98 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 broached this delicate subject to him, but T spoke in such 
 vague and far-fetched terms that he listened to me for 
 some time without understanding a word of what I said, 
 and becoming tired of my mysticisms he arose suddenly, 
 as if awakened from a heavy sleep, passed his hand over 
 his face, sneezed, and left the room. 
 
 I need not add that in all these, my proceedings, I 
 tried to persuade myself that I was acting without any 
 egotism ; that I embraced only a cause of justice ; that, 
 as a friend of the house, 1 was in duty bound to take 
 care of its honor. But I must confess that even if Mr. 
 Ojogin had not interrupted me so unceremoniously, I 
 would not have had courage enough to tell him all that 
 I had proposed to say. 
 
 Sometimes I would undertake to weigh the character 
 
 of Prince K" , with the seriousness of a wise man of 
 
 the ancient times. At other times I tried to persuade 
 myself that the situation of the love affair was very tri- 
 lling, that Liza would yet bethink herself that her senti- 
 ments for the prince were anything but real love. In 
 short, I do not know of any thought that did not cross 
 my mind at that time. Only one " means of release" 
 never occurred to me, and that was suicide. It never 
 entered my mind to kill myself. I cannot tell why I 
 did not think of that. Maybe I had already the pre- 
 sentiment that I would not have to live long anyhow. 
 
 It is self-understood that under such disadvantageous 
 circumstances my deportment, my communication with 
 others became more unnatural and stiff than ever. Even 
 the old Mrs. Ojogin, that half-idiotic individual, be- 
 came, so to say, afraid of me ; she did not know from 
 what side to approach me. Bizrnenkoff, who was always 
 courteous and obliging, tried to avoid me. I began to 
 suspect that he was a fellow-sufferer of mine that he
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 99 
 
 also was in love with Liza. But he never entered into 
 conversation with me never responded to my hints on 
 this subject. The prince treated him in a very friendly 
 way almost respectfully. Neither Bizmenkoff nor I 
 hindered the prince in his communication 'with Liza. 
 But Bizmenkoff did not keep himself away from them ; 
 he did not look either like a wolf or like his prey, and 
 willingly joined their company whenever he noticed that 
 they desired it. It is true, he did not show any special 
 gayety when he joined them, but that did not tell much 
 on him, since he always had an air of quietness about 
 him. 
 
 This state of affairs lasted for about a fortnight. The 
 prince showed himself not only a man of discretion and 
 of attractive appearance, but he was also very sociable 
 in every way. He played the piano, sang with a very 
 sonorous voice, could draw very good landscapes and 
 pictures, and he also had the talent of narrating stories 
 in a very pleasant manner. His anecdotes, all drawn 
 from high life in the capital, always produced a great 
 effect upon the hearers. The effect was the stronger on 
 account of his way of telling them, in a light and easy 
 manner, as not attaching any importance to what he nar- 
 rated. In consequence of this little artilice, the prince 
 
 became the idol of society at O . It is generally 
 
 very easy for a person of the higher circle of society to 
 charm us provincials of the steppes. 
 
 The frequent visits that the prince paid the Ojogins (he 
 spent there all his evenings), naturally aroused the 
 envy of other dignitaries of the town ; but, as a man of 
 the world, he understood how to conciliate all the other 
 officials and noblemen. He visited them by turns, had 
 always a compliment for their ladies, and allowed him- 
 self to be stuffed with heavy meals and bad wines. In a
 
 100 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 word, lie deported himself excellently, courteously, and 
 cleverly. He was in general, as 1 said before, a cheer- 
 ful, sociable, and kind man ; such was his natural dispo- 
 sition, and here in O he had some reason to display 
 
 his good qualities to the best advantage. It would be a 
 great wonder if he had not succeeded in his designs. 
 
 Since the prince had arrived in O , everybody in 
 
 Ojogin's house found out that time passed with unusual 
 rapidity. Everything was going on nicely and in the best 
 order. Ojogin himself, although he professed not to 
 notice anything, in silence with himself melted for pleas- 
 ure at the anticipation of having such a son-in-law. 
 The prince conducted his affair quietly and cautiously. 
 But for one unexpected incident nothing would ever 
 have become known. 
 
 I feel very tired now. I will continue to-morrow. 
 These recollections aggravate me even at the brink of 
 the grave. Terentievna has noticed to-day that my nose 
 has become more pointed than it ever was. They say it 
 is an evil omen. 
 
 March 27 Continued thato. 
 
 The affair stood then in the following condition with 
 relation to the concerned parties : the prince and Liza 
 loved one another. The old Ojogins expected a happy 
 termination of such a flattering connection of their 
 daughter with the prince. Bizmenkoff was also present 
 nothing else could be said of him. I writhed like a 
 worm in the dust, and made as many observations as 1 
 could. I imposed upon myself the task to save Liza 
 from the snares of her charmer, and therefore I began 
 to watch with suspicion the handmaid and the back-doors. 
 At the same time I would sit up nights imagining the 
 touching generosity with which I would extend my hand 
 to the deceived girl, telling her, "A false-hearted rec-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 101 
 
 reant has deceived you, but 1 am a true friend ; let us 
 forget the past and be happy." 
 
 All of a sudden there was a rumor that the governor of 
 the district proposed to give a ball in honor of the noble 
 guest, in his own country seat. Gornostaevka. All the 
 official dignitaries and nobility received invitations, from 
 the governor of the town down to the apothecary. The 
 latter \vas a German, with an unusually pimpled face, 
 who made strong pretensions of speaking the Russian 
 language correctly. He, therefore, was apt to use 
 strong expressions on all occasions, as, for instance, "I 
 be dis day the devil of a fellar !" and such like. 
 
 Great preparations had begun, as is the custom on 
 such occasions. One cosmetic merchant sold 110 less 
 than sixteen dark-bluish boxes of pomade, labelled " a la 
 jasmiene," with French letters and Russian spelling. 
 The young ladies furnished themselves with light 
 dresses, merciless girdles to which there was something 
 like a rat attached with a chain in the front. The 
 mothers erected on their heads some threatening towers 
 under the plea of hats. The overbusied fathers mus- 
 tered their old horses that had lost the use of their hind 
 legs. 
 
 The long-expected day arrived at last. I was among 
 the number of invited guests. From the tow* of 
 O - to Gornostaevka is a distance of about ten versts. 
 Mr. Ojogin offered me a seat in his carriage, but I re- 
 fused to accept it. Thus a child which has been punished 
 by his parents refuses to eat of the dishes he likes 
 best, in order to avenge himself on them. Besides that, 
 I felt that I would incommode Liza with my presence. 
 Bizmenkoif took my seat. The prince went to the ball 
 in his own carriage, which he had hired for a large sum. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the ball. Everything
 
 102 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 required for such occasions was there musicians with 
 falsely-tuned brass instruments on the platform ; land- 
 owners with their over-aged families ; red ice-cream ; 
 yellow jelly ; men with worn-out boots and with knotted 
 cotton neckties ; provincial dandies with nervous faces, 
 etc., etc., and this whole little world revolved around its 
 sun, the Prince N . 
 
 Lost in the multitudes, unnoticed even by the old maids 
 who had red pimples on their foreheads and blue flowers 
 on their temples, I stood there with my eyes wandering 
 from the prince to Liza, and from Liza to the prince. 
 She was dressed in a lovely manner, and looked remark- 
 ably well that evening. The prince danced with her 
 only twice during the whole evening, besides the grand 
 ceremonial mazourka ; but it was evident (to me, at least) 
 that there existed some incessant secret communication 
 between them all the time. He, not looking at her, not 
 addressing her, seemed yet to speak to her, and to her 
 alone. He was polite, gay, and even affectionate with 
 others for her sake. She, it seemed, felt that she was 
 the queen of the evening and of his heart. Her face 
 expressed childlike happiness, innocent pride, and, at 
 times, some other deep emotion. All these expressions 
 were, so to say, blended in her whole appearance, and 
 she^ppeared the very picture of felicity. I observed all 
 this. It was not the first time for me to make observa- 
 tions. At first I conceived a feeling as though I were 
 offended ; subsequently I felt a pang of grief, and at 
 last I became furious. Yes, I suddenly became very 
 angry, and this feeling raised me in my own estimation, 
 and I welcomed it with my whole heart. . 
 
 " I shall show them I am not dead yet," I mut- 
 tered to myself, and puffed up like a turkey. 
 
 As soon as the first stirring notes of the mazourka re-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 103 
 
 sounded, I looked around with a cool and dignified air, 
 and gracefully approached a maiden who was the owner 
 of a long face, a red, glossy nose, an open mouth, and a 
 long, muscular neck, reminding one of the handle of a 
 contra-basso. With a polite bow and a chink with the 
 heels of my boots, I asked her to dance with me. She 
 wore a^ress of pale-red color, which looked as though it 
 had been sick and was not yet quite recovered. She 
 looked as though she were saturated with the sour feel- 
 ing of an old failure. The whole evening she had been 
 sitting in her chair ; nobody thought of inviting her to 
 dance. One youth of about sixteen years old once made 
 a step toward her, evidently with the intention of invit- 
 ing her, for want of another partner ; but he changed 
 his mind and turned the other way. Now, it can easily. 
 be imagined how pleased she was with my invitation. 
 I conducted her through the drawing-room, bearing my- 
 self proudly, found two chairs near the circle of the 
 dancers, and sat down with her just opposite the prince 
 and Liza. 
 
 Neither my lady nor I was troubled much with invita- 
 tions, consequently we had time enough for conversa- 
 tion. It is true, my lady did not betray any special gift 
 in that line ; she used her mouth for some strange kind 
 of a smile, her lips and chin pressing downward while 
 her eyes raised themselves upward, as though some in- 
 visible power extended her long face from within. But 
 I needed not her conversational powers. I felt angry, 
 and my partner did not make me feel timid that was a 
 blessing. 
 
 I began to criticise everybody and everything in the 
 world, especially stigmatizing the young dandies of the 
 capital, the Petersburgian good-for-nothing fellows. At 
 last I went off so far that my lady, instead of raising her
 
 1<>4 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 eyes, commenced to look crosswise, and to twist her face 
 in a queer manner, as if she had perceived, for the first 
 time in her life, that she had a nose on her face. A 
 provincial dandy, who sat near me, also glanced over 
 several times to my side, and at last stared at me with 
 the air of an actor who wakes up in a foreign region on 
 the stage, as if he wanted to say, " Ah, you ffre also 
 sailing in that direction." 
 
 In the earnest pursuit of my conversation, I did not, 
 however, leave off observing the prince and Liza. They 
 were both incessantly in the whirl of the dance, invited, 
 alternately, by each of the participants. I did not suffer 
 BO much when I saw them together, dancing or chatting, 
 with that rosy smile which is always to be seen on the 
 faces of happy lovers ; no, E did not suffer so much then 
 as I suffered when I saw Liza in the whirl, and the 
 prince sitting in his chair holding her blue silk shawl on 
 his knees, and following her movements with thought- 
 ful and sparkling eyes. Then, oh, then, I suffered the 
 sharpest pangs, and uttered such forcible remarks in 
 my anger that my partner's eyes became all sunken in 
 her nose, so great was her astonishment. 
 
 By and by the mazourka was drawing to its close ; 
 they commenced the figure which is termed La Conji- 
 dente. In this figure, a lady sits down in the circle and 
 chooses another lady for her confidante, to whom she 
 secretly mentions the name of a gentleman with whom she 
 wishes to dance. Her partner brings the dancers to her, 
 one after the other, and her confidante, standing at her 
 side, refuses them until the chosen one is brought for- 
 ward. Liza sat in the circle, and chose for a confidante 
 the host's daughter, a girl of indifferent qualities. The 
 prince began to search for the chosen one. In vain did 
 he bring to her ten dancers, one after another ; the con-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 105 
 
 fidante bowed them off with a polite smile. At last he 
 turned toward me. Something unusual passed within 
 me at that moment ; I twisted, so to say, with my whole 
 frame. My first impulse was to refuse his invitation, 
 but I did not do it ; I followed him to Liza's chair. She 
 did not even glance at me ; lier confidante made the sign 
 of refusal. The prince, probably moved by my sad ap- 
 pearance, made to me a deep bow. 
 
 Liza's indifference, her refusal, transmitted to me by 
 my happy rival with rnock politeness and with a careless 
 smile all this produced a kind of explosion within me. 
 I drew near to the prince and said, furiously : 
 
 " It seems you have the pleasure of laughing at me ?" 
 
 He looked at me with astonishment and contempt, 
 took me by the arm with an appearance as if he wanted 
 to conduct me back to my seat, and asked, coolly : 
 
 Who? I?" 
 
 " Yes, you !" I retorted, in a whisper, following him 
 to my seat ; " you, my dear sir ! And I do not intend 
 to allow any worthless Petersburgian upstart ' ' 
 
 " I understand you," he interrupted me, with a smile 
 of condescension ; " I understand you, and we will speak 
 about it afterward here is not the place." 
 
 He left rue and turned to Bizmenkoff as calmly and 
 composedly as if nothing had happened. That pale- 
 looking little gentleman proved to be the chosen one. 
 Liza rose to meet him, and danced a round with him. 
 
 Taking my seat at my partner's side, I felt myself 
 almost a hero. My heart was beating high, my breast 
 expanded under the starched shirt-front ; I breathed 
 deep and fast, and all of a sudden bestowed such a 
 haughty glance upon my neighbor, the dandy, that he 
 became quite confused, and drew in his little foot, which 
 was extended in a graceful position. Having thus paid
 
 106 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 off that gentleman, I passed a glance around the whole 
 circle of dancers. It appeared to me that two or three 
 gentlemen looked at me with some curiosity ; but on the 
 whole, my conversation with the prince had been 
 noticed but very little. My rival was already sitting in 
 his chair, with a very unconcerned air, and with the 
 former smile on his face. Bizmenkoff had made his 
 tour with Liza and conducted her back to her seat. She 
 bowed to him very gracefully, and turned to the prince, 
 it seemed to me somewhat agitated, asking him some- 
 thing. He answered her, laughing, and made a very 
 graceful motion with his hand. He must have told her 
 something very agreeable, for she blushed with pleasure, 
 sank her eyes to the ground, and raised them again at 
 him with an expression of reproach. 
 
 The heroic sentiment which sprang up in me so sud- 
 denly did not desert me for some time ; but I did not 
 criticise any more : I only looked at my lady with a 
 gloomy and dignified expression. She evidently began 
 to be afraid of me, for she stuttered when she at- 
 tempted to speak, and winked incessantly. When the 
 mazourka was finished, I delivered the affrighted maiden 
 back to the legitimate care of her mother, a stout woman 
 with a yellow structure on her head by way of a head- 
 gear. I then placed myself at the window, crossed my 
 arms on my breast, and awaited the issue of things. 
 
 I had to wait for some time. The prince was surround- 
 ed by the family of the host and by some of the guests, 
 just as England is surrounded by waters. Besides that, 
 he could not come up to such an insignificant person as I 
 was, without some reasonable plea, for fear he would 
 arouse suspicion. My insignificance never afforded me 
 more satisfaction than it did at that moment. When I 
 saw him turning, now to one and now to another of the
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 107 
 
 highly respectable personages, who were all anxious to 
 be noticed bj him, 1 muttered, " Nonsense, my friend ! 
 You will come up to me, insignificant as I am. I con- 
 trived to offend you, though !" 
 
 At last he succeeded in ridding himself of the crowd 
 of his admirers in a well-bred manner. He approached 
 the place where I stood, passed me a few steps, cast a 
 furtive glance around him, then turned back as if re- 
 minding himself of something, and came up to me, say- 
 ing, with a smile : 
 
 " Ah, yes ! Apropos, 1 have some little business to 
 talk to you about." 
 
 Two gentlemen of the kind that never relinquish their 
 hold of a person, who had followed the prince, stepped 
 aside respectfully when they heard his remark ; from the 
 word " business" they inferred some official communi- 
 cation. The prince took me by the arm and conducted 
 me into another room. My heart palpitated. 
 
 " You told me something insolent, I think," he said, 
 putting the accent on the word " you," while he looked 
 at me with contempt. 
 
 1 must remark that his haughty air was very becoming 
 to his beautiful features. 
 
 " I said what I thought," I rejoined, raising my 
 voice. 
 
 "Hush!" he resumed, "respectable people never 
 speak so loudly. You wish, perhaps, to measure arms 
 with me ?" 
 
 " That is your business," I answered, straightening 
 my figure. 
 
 " If you do not take back your words 1 shall be com- 
 pelled to challenge you." 
 
 " I do not intend to take any of my words back." 
 
 " Indeed ?" he said with an ironical smile. " In such
 
 108 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 a case, I shall have the honor of sending jou to-morrow 
 my second." 
 
 " Very well, sir !" I answered, as calmly as I could. 
 
 The prince made a slight bow. 
 
 " 1 cannot forbid yon from considering me a worthless 
 man," he said, with a haughty air ; " but the princely 
 
 family of 'N cannot be considered parvenues. 
 
 Adieu, until to-morrow, Mister Mister Shtukaturin." 
 He abruptly turned away from me and went to the host, 
 who began to feel a little anxious already. 
 
 " Shtukaturin !" Why, my name is Ohulkaturin ! 
 I was so confounded by this last insolence that 1 could 
 not answer a word. I only followed him with a furious 
 glance, and gnashing my teeth, I muttered : 
 
 " Until to-morrow." 
 
 I immediately went to find an acquaintance, a captain 
 of a regiment of Uhlans Kolobordiaeff by name a 
 very reckless and jolly old fellow. I informed him in a 
 few words about my quarrel with the prince, and re- 
 quested him to be my second. He, of course, did not 
 refuse me this service, and 1 went home. 
 
 I could not sleep the whole night for agitation, but not 
 on account of cowardly fear ; I did not even think of the 
 prospect of death before me. The Germans say that 
 this is the greatest happiness in such cases. I thought 
 only of Liza, of my lost hopes, and of how it was my 
 duty to act. 
 
 " Shall I endeavor to kill the prince ?" I asked my- 
 self. 
 
 Of course, I meant to do it, not for revenge, but for 
 Liza's sake. 
 
 " But she will not survive the loss," I soliloquized 
 again. u No, better let him kill me." 
 
 1 must also confess that I felt highly gratified that
 
 PIAKY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 109 
 
 I, insignificant rustic, could compel such a high per- 
 sonage to fight with me for life and death. 
 
 In such reflections I spent the whole night, and with 
 the first rays of the morning Kolobordiaeff entered my 
 room. 
 
 " Well," he asked noisily, " where is the prince's 
 second ?'' 
 
 "For mercy's sake," I answered, sullenly, "it is 
 not seven o'clock yet. The prince, I suppose, is yet in 
 bed." 
 
 " In that case," continued the merciless Uhlan, 
 " order some tea for me. My head is aching yet from 
 last evening. I did not even undress last night. How- 
 ever," he added, yawning, " I generally very seldom 
 undress for the night." 
 
 Tea was brought for him. He drank six tumblers of 
 it, mixed with rum. He told me that he had bought a 
 horse yesterday, very cheaply, which no driver wanted 
 to look at ; that he intended to break the animal by 
 means of tying up his front legs : and he fell asleep on 
 the sofa, with a pipe in his mouth. I sat up and put my 
 papers in order. One invitation card, the only note I 
 had received from Liza, I placed at first in my bosom, 
 but I reconsidered with a sneer, and threw the note in 
 the basket. Kolobordiaeff was slightly snoring, his head 
 was thrown a little backward on the leather cushion, and I 
 contemplated for some time his disorderly, brown, care- 
 less and good-natured face. At ten o'clock my footman 
 announced the arrival of Bizmenkoff. The prince had 
 taken him for his second. 
 
 Bizmenkoff and 1 had considerable trouble in arousing 
 the sleeping Uhlan. He got up and looked at us with a 
 dull eye, asked for some brandy with water, in a hoarse 
 voice ; then he roused himself entirely, bowed to Biz-
 
 110 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 menkoff, and went with him into another room for con- 
 sultation. After the lapse of about fifteen minutes, 
 they entered again my dormitory. Kolobordiaeff in- 
 formed me that '* we will fight to-day at three o'clock 
 P.M., with pistols." I evinced my consent with a silent 
 nod. Bizmenkoff took leave, and went immediately 
 away. He looked somewhat pale and agitated, as per- 
 sons generally look who take part in such affairs for the 
 first time ; but he behaved composedly and politely. 1 
 felt somewhat ashamed before him, and could not look 
 him straight in the eyes. 
 
 Kolobordiaeff began again to talk about his new 
 horse, and I was highly pleased with that, for I was 
 afraid lest he should speak of Liza. But it was quite a 
 gratuitous fear on my part ; my good Uhlan was no gos- 
 siper ; and besides that, he hated all women, and called 
 them salad, heaven knows for what reason. At two 
 o'clock we took our luncheon, and at three sharp we 
 went to the field of action. It was the same place, near 
 the declivity, where I had some time ago admired the 
 crimson of the setting sun, together with Liza. 
 
 We were the first on the ground, but the other parties 
 did not let us wait long. The prince appeared as fresh 
 as a rose, bright and cheerful. He smoked a fine ciga- 
 rette, and noticing Kolobordiaeff, he went up to him 
 and shook hands with him very cordially. He also made 
 a graceful bow to me. I, on the. other hand, felt that 
 I was very pale ; my hands trembled slightly, to my 
 greatest dissatisfaction ; my throat was dry. Up to 
 that time 1 had never fought a duel. 
 
 " I wish only that this satirical gentleman would not 
 ascribe my discomfiture to cowardice !" was my only 
 thought. 
 
 I cursed my weak nerves in my heart, but at last I
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. Ill 
 
 looked at the prince, and noticing his satirical smile, 
 became angry, and my nervousness was allayed. 
 
 Our seconds, in the mean time, measured the distance, 
 marked the limits, and loaded the pistols that is, Kolo- 
 bordiaeff performed all this work, and Bizmenkoff looked 
 at him. The day was beautiful not inferior to the day 
 on which I had taken, with Liza, the memorable walk in 
 this same place. The deep-blue sky looked just as sooth- 
 ingly through the yellowish foliage on which the golden 
 rays of the sun were playing. The fresh air irritated 
 my breast. The prince leaned against a young lime 
 tree in a very graceful position, and calmly smoked his 
 cigarette. 
 
 " Gentlemen, please take your positions," said Kolo- 
 bordiaeff, handing us the pistols. 
 
 We took our positions. The prince stepped a few 
 paces backward, and straightening himself, asked me : 
 
 " Do you not yet want to take your words back ?" 
 
 I wished to answer him, but I could not utter a word. 
 I only made a sign of refusal with my hand. He 
 smiled again, and resumed his post. We commenced to 
 step toward one another. 1 raised my pistol and aimed 
 at my enemy's breast at that moment he actually was 
 my enemy but the muzzle raised itself, as if somebody 
 had pushed my arm. I fired. The prince staggered a 
 step backward, and raised his hand to his left temple. 
 A small vein of blood streamed over his white glove. 
 Bizmenkoff came up hurriedly to assist him. 
 
 " Never mind," said the prince calmly, taking off his 
 cap, which was shot through. " If in this place, and I 
 am yet on my feet, the wound cannot be serious. It is 
 only a scratch, I dare say." 
 
 He calmly drew out a, fine silk handkerchief from his 
 pocket and put it to his curls, which were all saturated
 
 112 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 with blood. I looked at him dumbfounded, and did not 
 move. 
 
 " You will please go to your post," said Kolobordiaeff 
 to me, in an imperative tone. 
 
 " Shall the fight be continued 2'' he asked Bizmen- 
 koff. 
 
 The latter did not answer ; but the prince, still hold- 
 ing his handkerchief to his wound, and not even desiring 
 to have the satisfaction of tormenting me a little on the 
 fighting-ground, answered, with a smile, that the fight 
 was finished, and fired off his pistol in the air. I almost 
 cried for fury and annoyance. That man had annihi- 
 lated me eiitirely ; he had put me in the dust with his 
 magnanimity. I wanted to object ; I wanted to request 
 him to fire at me ; but he approached me extending 
 his hand, and saying with the softest accent : 
 
 " Everything is forgotten between us, is it not ?" 
 
 1 glanced at the pale face, at the blood -soaked hand- 
 kerchief, and lost all sense of individuality. Ashamed 
 arid confounded, 1 grasped his extended hand. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the prince, turning to the sec- 
 onds, " I hope that our little affair here will remain a 
 secret." 
 
 " Of course !" exclaimed Kolobordiaeff ; " but allow 
 me, prince ;" and he tied up the wound on his head. 
 
 The prince bowed to me once more before he left the 
 ground, but Bizmenkoff did not even look at me. I 
 went home with Kolobordiaeff, feeling myself morally 
 dead. I was gloomy and silent. 
 
 " What is the matter with you ?" asked the Uhlan. 
 " You need not trouble yourself about his wound ; there 
 is not the slightest danger in it, and he will be able to 
 dance to-morrow if he desires it. Or are you sorry that 
 you did not kill him ? Allow me to tell you, then, that
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 113 
 
 it would be a pity. He is an excellent fellow, and I 
 would be sorry if you had made him bite the dust." 
 
 " But why did he spare me ?" I moaned. 
 
 " Have you ever heard such nonsense ? Uph ! those 
 authors !" exclaimed the CFhlan, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 I cannot imagine how he hit upon the idea of calling 
 me an author. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the torturing feelings I 
 endured on the evening that succeeded the fatal duel. 
 My self-love suffered extremely. Remorse and the con- 
 viction of my own foolishness tormented me fearfully. 
 
 " It was my own fault. I have inflicted this last de- 
 structive blow on myself," 1 muttered, pacing through 
 my apartment. " The prince, wounded by my hand, 
 has pardoned me. Liza is in his power now. There is 
 nothing in the world that can save her from misfortune 
 now. ' ' 
 
 I knew very well that the affair could not remain a 
 secret, notwithstanding the last remark of the prince. 
 
 " He is not such a fool as not to* take the best advan- 
 tage of the sensation," I muttered again, in a fury. 
 
 But 1 was mistaken in the last remark. The whole 
 town, it is true, knew on the next day all about the duel 
 and about the cause of it ; but it was not the prince 
 through whom the thing became known. On the con- 
 trary, he tried to conceal it, and when he called on the 
 Ojogins the next day, he had composed some story to 
 account for his tied head, but found that they had 
 already been informed of the real cause of it. I could 
 not say whether Bizmenkoff had betrayed the secret, or 
 whether it leaked out by some other means ; I am cer- 
 tain, however, that Kolobordiaeff, that hearty, good 
 Uhlan, did not speak about it. But it is no wonder ; in 
 a small town like O , nothing can remain a secret.
 
 114 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 It is easy to imagine how Liza accepted the prince 
 after this catastrophe how the whole family of Ojogin 
 accepted him. As for me, I was looked at with con- 
 tempt I was repulsed as a maniac, as a jealous wretch ; 
 I was considered a cannibal, a bloodhound. Even the 
 few friends I had avoided me like a man with a con- 
 taminating disease. 
 
 The city authorities proposed to the prince to inflict 
 the hardest punishment on me ; they insisted that they 
 would make an example of me. Only the incessant and 
 earnest intercession of the prince saved me from that 
 misfortune. Fate ordained it so that this man should 
 annihilate me on all points. His last magnanimous 
 action was, so to say, the last stone thrown on the 
 grave of my moral existence. I need not add here that 
 the Ojogins' house was henceforth closed for me. The 
 old man sent me back an old pencil which I had forgot- 
 ten at his house. Properly speaking, Ojogin had the 
 least cause of being angry with me. My " insane jeal- 
 ousy," as they termed it, had explained and defined the 
 nature of the prince's relation to Liza. He was hence- 
 forth regarded as almost the suitor of Liza, by the 
 Ojogins themselves as well as by all others. The prince, 
 I dare say, did not like this new aspect of affairs, but 
 he liked Liza, and at that time he had not yet achieved 
 his object. 
 
 With the cleverness of a man of the world, the prince 
 adapted himself to his new situation. He entered, so to 
 say, into the spirit of his new role. And I I waved my 
 hand with despondent resignation at my whole future. 
 
 When the suffering of a man becomes so intense that 
 his whole being is becoming crushed under its weight, 
 the ridiculous part of that suffering ought to end at that 
 point, at least ; the laugh of scorn, so to say, accom-
 
 DI.VHY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 115 
 
 panying suffering, ought to be silenced. But such is not 
 the case. Laughter is the companion of tears to the 
 end ; ay, the peals of laughter continue ringing even 
 when there are no more tears to be shed when the 
 tongue of the sufferer is no longer capable of uttering 
 complaint when the very object of suffering is writh- 
 ing in its last agonies. 
 
 Feeling very exhausted now, and having no desire 
 to appear ridiculous to myself, 1 shall delay the con- 
 tinuation of my story until to-morrow. I shall finish it 
 entirely, God permitting. 
 
 March 29 A light frost. (Yesterday was a thaw.) 
 
 I could not write my diary yesterday. I was lying in 
 bed the whole day, chatting with Terentievna. There 
 is a woman for you ! Sixty years ago she buried her 
 first suitor, who died of cholera. Since that time she 
 has outlived her husband, carried all her children to the 
 grave, and she is now inexcusably old. She drinks tea 
 the whole day, eats with the best appetite, and is com- 
 fortably dressed and snugly lodged ; and of what do you 
 think did she speak the whole day ? 1 gave away an old 
 moth-eaten fur-collar to another old woman, who has 
 not a person in the world to take care of her. She 
 wanted that rag for a vest (she wears jackets which look 
 like vests). Now my Terentievna envied her that tri- 
 fling thing ; why did not I give her that collar? " Is 
 it not a sin for you, master dear, to treat me like this ? 
 Have not I nursed you with my breast ? Have not I 
 brought you up in my lap ? Oh-o-o, master dear, 1 
 have never expected such treatment at your hands !" 
 etc., etc. The merciless woman thus worried me the 
 whole day with reproaches. But let me resume my nar- 
 rative.
 
 116 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 And so I suffered like a dog whose liind part has been 
 run over by a carriage. Only after I had been turned 
 out of Ojogin's house, I perceived how much pleasure a 
 person can derive from the sight of his misfortune. Oh, 
 human kind is truly a miserable race. But let us leave 
 aside all philosophical observations. I spent my days in 
 perfect solitude. I could obtain information of what 
 was going on in Ojogin's house, or what the prince was 
 doing, only by the most indirect and scurvy means. My 
 footman had made the acquaintance of a second cousin 
 of the wife of Ojogin's driver ; this acquaintance was a 
 source of some comfort for me. By means of small 
 presents and slight hints received at my hand, the foot- 
 man understood about what subject he had to speak to 
 his master when he was undressing him at night. 
 
 Sometimes I met in the street one of Ojogin's family, 
 or Bizmenkoff, or the prince himself. With the latter 
 I exchanged compliments, but never entered into con- 
 versation. Liza I have seen only three times, and, of 
 course, I never had the courage to approach her. Once 
 1 saw her in a store with her mother. She had been 
 ordering some dresses and very busily selecting laces. 
 Her mother stood with her hands folded on the stomach, 
 her nose raised in the air, and looking upon her 
 daughter with that foolish smile which is excusable only 
 in mothers who love their children with adoration. The 
 second time I saw Liza in a carriage with her parents and 
 the prince. The old Ojogins were sitting in the rear of 
 the carriage, Liza with the prince on the front seat. 1 
 shall never forget how she looked at that time. She was 
 a little paler than usual ; two feverish red spots played 
 on her cheeks. She sat half turned to the prince, her 
 hea.d reclined on her hand, which was leaning with the 
 elbow on her knee. In her left hand she held a parasol.
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 117 
 
 Her expressive eyes were fixed on the prince's face. In 
 that moment she gave herself up entirely to him. I 
 could not well notice how he looked, but it seemed to 
 me that he was deeply affected. 
 
 The third time I saw her in a church. It was about 
 ten days after I had seen her in the carriage, about three 
 
 weeks after the duel. The prince's business at O 
 
 had been finished for some time, but he delayed his de- 
 parture and wrote to St. Petersburg that he could not 
 return on account of sickness. In the town everybody 
 expected that he would propose to Liza ; I , too, waited 
 for this last blow in order to depart from O after- 
 ward. I had become sick of that place. I could not 
 stay in the house, and roamed about the whole day in 
 the suburbs of the town. Once, on a cloudy and dull 
 day returning home from my ramble, I was overtaken 
 by the rain and entered a church. The afternoon ser- 
 vice had just begun ; the attendance in the church was 
 very small. I looked around and noticed a familiar pro- 
 file at a window. At the first glance I could not discern 
 who it was. That pale face, that dim, extinguished eye 
 good God ! is that Liza ? Yes, Liza it was. Wrapped 
 in a mantle, without a hat, she stood in the niche of 
 the window, the bleak light streaming on her pale 
 face, her eyes fixed on the imagery of the holy screen : 
 and it seemed as though she were trying to pray, or en- 
 deavoring to rouse herself from a heavy dream. Her 
 red-faced little footman stood behind her at a respectful 
 distance and looked at his mistress with sleepy, wonder- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 I trembled in all my limbs at the sight of her. I 
 desired to approach her, but had no courage to do it. A 
 heavy presentiment oppressed my heart. The service 
 was over ; she did not move. The janitor commenced to
 
 118 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 sweep the church ; she did not notice him. At last, the 
 footman went up to her and whispered something in her 
 ear. She looked around, passed pensively her hand over 
 her forehead, and left the church. I followed her at a 
 distance until she entered the house. " She is lost !" I 
 exclaimed as soon as I entered my solitary apartment. 
 
 Upon my honor, I could never find out what was the 
 nature of my feeling at that time. I remember only 
 that 1 had thrown myself on the sofa and fixed my eyes 
 on the floor and remained in that position for several 
 hours. In the midst of the most oppressive sentiments 
 I perceived some feeling of satisfaction. I would not 
 confess it for the world if I were not writing for my own 
 self. A very sad presentiment filled iny heart, and, 
 who knows, I might perhaps have felt disappointed if that 
 presentiment had not been fulfilled. " Such is the 
 heart !" would exclaim here a Russian school-teacher, 
 raising his fat hand in the air and displaying a carnelian 
 ring on his plump finger. But what* do I care for the 
 school-teacher with his carnelian ring ? 
 
 However, my presentiments proved to be correct. A 
 rumor spread suddenly in the town that the prince had 
 departed for St. Petersburg. He did not propose for 
 Liza's hand, and the poor girl was left to weep all her 
 lifetime on account of his treachery. His departure was 
 quite unexpected (they said that he had received de- 
 spatches from the capital); the evening before, his own 
 footman did not know that he was going to leave at 
 least my servant told me so. This rumor threw me into 
 a perspiration. I immediately dressed myself and ran 
 off to the Ojogiris' ; but on my way I bethought myself 
 that it would be better if I delayed my visit until the 
 next day. I did not lose anything by this delay. The 
 same evening a certain Mr. Pandapipalo, a travelling
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 119 
 
 Greek, who had settled in O by accident, a gossiper 
 
 of the first magnitude, and who was the first one to 
 break out in the most violent indignation against me for 
 my duel with the prince, came to my house in a hurry. 
 He burst into my room without allowing my footman 
 the time to announce him, caught me by the hand and 
 squeezed it with the greatest cordiality. He begged my 
 forgiveness, made many apologies for the injustice of his 
 conduct toward me, called me the ideal of bravery and 
 magnanimity, spoke of the prince in the worst terms, 
 did not forget to make a few bitter remarks at the ex- 
 pense of Mr. Ojogin, who, according to his opinion, had 
 received just punishment at the hands of Providence, 
 touched Liza with a remark or two, and kissing me on 
 the shoulder hurried away before I could speak a word. 
 Among many other things, I have been informed that on 
 the day previous to the departure of the prince, Ojogin 
 gave him some slight hints about matrimony ; but he 
 answered calmly, en vrai grand seigneur, that he never 
 .intended to deceive anybody ; that he did not intend to 
 marry so soon ; and thus he left them in the cold. 
 
 The next day I called on Ojogin. His weak-eyed 
 footman jumped up when he saw me entering. I or- 
 dered him to announce me. I was requested to step 
 into Ojogin's apartment. 
 
 Until to-morrow. 
 
 Mardi 30 A frost. 
 
 And so I entered Mr. Ojogin's apartment. I would 
 give anything to the person who could show ine my 
 picture as it was at that moment, when the honorable, 
 distinguished officer hastily buttoned up his dressing-gown 
 and came to meet me with extended arms. I felt as if I 
 had been transformed into a Scipio Africanus. There 
 must have been an air of silent triumph, magnanimous
 
 120 UIAHY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 condescension, and sympathy about me. The old man 
 appeared careworn and confused ; he tried to avoid my 
 eyes, and changed color. I noticed also that he spoke 
 somewhat louder than usual, and expressed himself in 
 very vague terms. But, with true sincerity, he begged 
 my pardon. He added a few indefinite remarks about 
 the departed guest, about deceit of man, and instability 
 of earthly happiness. A tear was gathering in his eye 
 when he made this remark, but he hastened to take a pinch 
 of snuff, in order to deceive me about the cause of that 
 tear. He used the green Russian snuff, which brings 
 tears even to the eyes of old men, and makes them look 
 dull for several minutes. 
 
 I treated the old man with consideration, of course, 
 asked about the health of Mrs. Ojogin and her 
 daughter, and turned the conversation on the very in- 
 teresting legal topic of "transferring property by 
 means of verbal declaration." I was dressed as usual, 
 but the sentiments of indulgent sympathy and conde- 
 scending grace made me feel light and fresh, as if I had. 
 a white summer suit on me. The prospect of meeting 
 Liza, 'however, made me feel a little agitated. Ojogin 
 proposed at last to take me to his wife. That good but 
 simple lady became quite confused when she saw me ; 
 but her brain was not formed to retain an impression 
 very long, and so she soon cooled off. At last I saw 
 Liza. 
 
 She entered her mother's apartment, where we had 
 been sitting. I had expected to meet in her a humiliated 
 and repentant sinner, and tried beforehand to assume 
 the softest and most encouraging expression. Why shall 
 I conceal it ? I really loved that woman, and was anx- 
 ious to forgive her and to extend my hand to her. But 
 how great was my surprise when, in answer to my
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 121 
 
 polite salute, she began to laugh very composedly, re- 
 marked, in a careless manner, " Ah, is that you ?" and 
 turned away to the other side. It is true her laugh ap- 
 peared to be forced from her ; it did not, by any means, 
 correspond with her pallid features ; but I did not expect 
 such a greeting at her hand. 
 
 I looked at her with astonishment. What a change 
 there was in her whole appearance ! What a difference 
 between the pure child I had known a few weeks before, 
 and the woman who now stood before me ! She looked 
 as though she had grown taller and straighter ; the lines 
 of her face, especially her lips, had become sharper ; her 
 look had become deeper, harder, and had assumed a 
 piercing, sad expression. I remained at the Ojogins' 
 until dinner-time. She very calmly went in and out of 
 the room, answered coolly to all questions that were put 
 to her, and purposely avoided taking notice of me. She 
 desired to show me I understood it well that I did not 
 deserve even her anger, although 1 had nearly killed her 
 lover. I could not master myself any longer ; I dropped 
 some venomous remarks. She was startled, cast a fur- 
 tive glance at me, arose from her seat, and, placing her- 
 self near the window, she said, with a trembling voice. 
 
 " You may say whatever you please, but I wish 
 you to understand that I loved that man ; I love him 
 still, and will love him forever. I do not consider him 
 unjust toward me ; on the contrary " 
 
 Her voice failed her ; she stopped ; she made an effort 
 to master herself, but in vain ; tears gushed forth from 
 her eyes, and she left the room. The old Ojogins be- 
 came confused. I arose, shook hands with them, sighed, 
 raised my eyes to the ceiling, and left the house. 
 
 I am very weak. There is not much time left me. I 
 am no more able to describe with the preceding accuracy
 
 123 DIARY OP A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 the new range of tantalizing thoughts and feelings, 
 the new resolutions I adopted, and the other fruits of 
 the mental strife I underwent after I had renewed my 
 acquaintance with the Ojogins. I had no doubt that 
 Liza loved, and would continue to love, the prince, and 
 as a man who had been humiliated by* circumstances, 
 and who had learned to resign to his fate, I did not even 
 dream any more of being beloved by Liza. My heart 
 yearned only for her friendship ; I desired only to gain 
 her confidence and respect, which they say are the 
 strongest pillars that uphold married life. But, un- 
 fortunately, one prominent circumstance escaped my 
 notice ; Liza could not bear the eight of me since my 
 duel with the prince ; I became aware of it too late. 
 
 I began again to visit the Ojogins. The old man was 
 very affable with me ; he befriended me more than he 
 ever had done before. I have good reasons to believe 
 that he would have been very glad to give his consent 
 that I should marry his daughter, although I was not 
 such a good suitor. Public opinion was very much 
 against him and Liza, and very eloquent in my favor. 
 Liza's deportment toward me did not change. She was 
 mostly silent, and performed patiently everything she 
 was required to do. She did not betray any sign of in- 
 ward trouble, but she looked worse and more careworn 
 every day. Mr. Ojogin this justice is due him 
 treated her with great consideration. Mrs. Ojogin did 
 nothing but groan every time she looked at her darling 
 daughter. Only one person Liza did not keep out of the 
 way of although she did not encourage him too much 
 either and that person was BizmenkofL The old 
 Ojogins treated him unkindly, even roughly : they could 
 not excuse him for having acted as a second in my duel 
 with the prince ; but he seemed not to notice their ill-
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS if AX. 123 
 
 favor, and continued his visits. Toward me he behaved 
 coldly, and, strange to say, he seemed to be afraid of me. 
 
 Such a state of affairs continued for about two weeks. 
 At last once, after a sleepless night, I resolved to ex- 
 plain myself to Liza, to open my heart to her, and to 
 tell her that, regardless of all that had passed, notwith- 
 standing all the slander and talk of the world, I would 
 consider it my greatest happiness if she would consider 
 me worthy of her trust and confidence. I honestly 
 thought that I would thus show an example of great 
 nobility, and that she, in admiration of such conduct on 
 my part, would consent to my request without hesita- 
 tion. "At any rate^" I said to myself, " let me have 
 an explanation with her, and thus make an end of my 
 uncertain position." 
 
 In the rear of Mr. Ojogin's house there was a spa- 
 cious garden, with a very neglected grove of linden trees 
 at the other end. Liza used to walk around in that gar- 
 den the whole day. Mr. Ojogin did not allow anybody 
 to disturb her. " Let her grief ferment out," he used 
 to say. If she was not in the house when she was 
 wanted, it was only necessary to ring the bell on the 
 veranda, and Liza was sure to appear, with the demure 
 silence and though tfulness on her lips and in her eyes ; 
 at times with a faded leaf or broken reed in her hand. 
 One afternoon, noticing that she was not in the house, 1 
 took leave of the old folks, left the house by the front 
 door, stole back through an entrance in the rear, and 
 went into the garden without being noticed. 
 
 Without much thinking, I directed my steps toward 
 the grove. Before me on the path stood Liza. My 
 heart was palpitating ; I stopped to draw breath before 
 I approached her. She did not notice me, and looked 
 wistfully into the distance. Suddenly she turned
 
 12i DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 around and began to listen. Two raps were heard in 
 the distance ; Liza clasped her hands by way of re- 
 sponse. There was a creak of the gate in the rear of the 
 garden, a slight noise among the bushes of the grove, 
 and Bizmenkoff appeared in the walk. I hid myself 
 behind a tree. Liza turned silently to the new-comer, 
 he took her by the arm, and they went along the path. 
 I followed their motions with astonishment. They 
 stopped, looked around, and entered the arbor. 
 
 That arbor was a round little edifice, with a small 
 door on one side, and a very small window on the 
 other. In the middle of it was a table with two rustic 
 benches near it, at some distance from the wall. Every- 
 thing in the arbor was dusty, the walls looked humid, 
 and there was even some grass springing up between the 
 split boards of the table. Perhaps, once or twice a 
 year, on an unusually hot summer day, the family used 
 to take their tea in that bower, and it was in a very 
 neglected state. The door did not close, and the little 
 window-sash was hanging on one hinge, and looking as 
 sad as the broken wing of a sick bird. I stealthily went 
 up to the arbor and looked into the window. Liza sat 
 on a bench, with her head reclined, her right hand lying 
 carelessly on her lap. Bizmenkoff sat near her, holding 
 her left hand in both of his, and looking into her face 
 with emotion. 
 
 11 How do you feel to-day, Elizabetta Kirrilovna ?" 
 he asked in a whisper. 
 
 " Just the same," she answered ; " neither better nor 
 worse. A blank, a gaping hollo wness," she added, rais- 
 ing her sad eyes. 
 
 Bizmenkoff did not make any remark. 
 
 "What do you think, Bizmenkoff?" she resumed, 
 " is he going to write me another letter ?"
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 1"5 
 
 " I do not think he will, Elizabetta Kirrilovna," ' was 
 the reply. 
 
 A pause. 
 
 " Indeed, why should he write to me ?" she said, 
 somewhat warmly. " lie told me everything in his 
 first letter. 1 cannot become his wife, but I was 
 happy ; only for a short time, it is true but I was 
 happy ! 
 
 Bizmenkoff made a grimace. 
 
 "Oh," she continued, warmly, "if you knew how 
 I hate that Chulkaturin ! It seems to me 1 always see 
 on the hands of that man his blood" (a cold chill ran 
 over my whole frame). " However," she continued, 
 thoughtfully, " who knows ? It may be that, if not 
 for that duel ! Alas ! when I saw him wounded I felt 
 immediately that I was all his own." 
 
 " Chulkaturin loves you," remarked Bizmenkoff. 
 
 " Now, what of it ? Do I need anybody's love ex- 
 cept yours?" she added, after a moment's reflection. 
 " Yes, my friend, I could not exist without your love. 
 I would be lost without you. You have helped me to 
 bear the most fearful moments." 
 
 She stopped. Bizmenkoff patted her hand with a 
 kind of paternal tenderness. 
 
 " What can be done ? "What can be done, Elizabetta 
 Kirrilovna ?" he repeated several times with the deepest 
 sympathy. 
 
 "Yes, even now," she continued, with a depressed 
 voice, "I would, perhaps, die without you. It is you 
 alone who upholds my spirit. And, besides that, you 
 remind me of him. You have known everything, have 
 you not ? Do you remember how well he looked on 
 that day ? But excuse me, it must be hard for you to 
 hear such things."
 
 126 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 u Speak on, Elizabetta Kirrilovna, speak on. Gra- 
 cious heaven, what makes you think that it is hard for 
 me?" 
 
 She squeezed his hand. 
 
 " You are very kind, Bizmenkoff, you are as good as 
 an angel. What shall I do ? 1 feel that I shall love 
 him all my life. I pardoned him : nay, 1 am thankful 
 to him, I bless him. May God bless him with a wife to 
 suit him and make him happy." Her eyes filled with 
 tears. " Only let him not forget me, let him think 
 sometimes of his poor, forlorn Liza. Let us go out of 
 this place,' ' she added, after a pause. 
 
 Bizmenkoff kissed her hand. 
 
 "I know," she resumed, energetically, " that every- 
 body speaks against me now ; they are all throwing 
 stones after me. Let them. I would not yet change 
 with them. No, I would not give my misfortune for 
 their happiness. He loved me, or a short time, it is 
 true, but he did love me. He never deceived me. He 
 never promised to marry me, and I never expected him to 
 do it, either. It was only my poor father who expected 
 such a thing. Neither am I quite unhappy now. There 
 are at least recollections left for me, no matter how 
 frightful the consequences in prospect. It is so close 
 here. Here I have seen him the last time. Come out 
 with me in the fresh air." 
 
 They arose from their seats. I hid myself again be- 
 hind a linden tree. They left the bower, and, as nearly 
 as I could judge by the noise of the leaves, they walked 
 among the shrubs. An inexplicable amazement over- 
 whelmed me ; I stood like one petrified for some time. 
 Suddenly 1 heard them come again. 1 cautiously peeped 
 through the branches. They both seemed to be a little 
 agitated, especially Bizmenkoff, who was weeping. Liza
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 127 
 
 stopped, looked into his face, and, extending her hand to 
 him said, in a clear voice : 
 
 " 1 agree to it, Bizmenkoff. I would never accept 
 your offer if I thought that you desire only to save me, 
 to deliver me from my frightful position. "But I know 
 you love me you knew everything, and you love me 
 still. I will never find a more reliable and sincere friend 
 than you. I shall be your wife." 
 
 Bizmenkoff kissed her hand. She smiled sadly, and 
 went into the house. Bizmenkoff disappeared in the 
 thicket, and I went home. As he had probably told 
 Liza just what I had intended to tell her, and as she had 
 answered him that which I wished to hear from her, 
 there was nothing more for me to do. Two weeks 
 afterward they were married. The Ojogins were glad 
 to find any suitor for her. 
 
 Now, for mercy's sake, am I not a superfluous man ? 
 Have not I played in this affair the part of a superfluous 
 man ? The prince, his role everybody can understand. 
 Bizmenkoff's part can also be easily explained. But 1 ! 
 For what purpose have I been mixed up in that affair ? 
 "What a miserable role of a fifth wheel to the wagon 
 have I played here. Oh, I feel miserable ! "Well, as 
 the serfs say, once and once again one day another 
 day, and I will not feel any more, either bad or good. 
 
 March 31. 
 
 It is bad. I am writing now in my bed. The 
 weather has changed since yesterday. To-day it is a 
 perfect summer day ; it is very hot. The air is preg- 
 nant with the smell of humid earth a strong, offen- 
 sive, almost suffocating smell. It seems as if everything 
 were melting, falling asunder, dissolving. The fog rises
 
 128 DI.VRY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 
 
 all over. The sun, so to say, strikes with its rays. I 
 feel bad. I am dissolving. 
 
 I had intended to write a diary, and what have I done 
 instead of that ? I have narrated one event of my life. 
 I have become so garrulous, memories of the past have 
 awakened within me, and have engaged my whole mind. 
 I have described everything so circumstantially, with 
 such careful minuteness, as though I had yet an age to 
 live. Now I have no more time to write. Deatli is 
 coming. I hear already its terrible crescendo : " Time 
 is up ! Time is up !" Well, and what is the evil ? 
 Would there be any difference if I had written some- 
 thing else ? All the worldly distinctions vanish in the 
 sight of death. I feel that I am becoming calmed, sim- 
 plified, and clearer than I was before. I come to my 
 mind too late. 
 
 How strange ! I am becoming calmed, and yet I feel 
 affrighted ! Yes, I feel affrighted. Half inclined over 
 the silent, gaping chasm, I am trembling, turning away 
 from it, and contemplating everything around with eager 
 attention. Every object seems doubly dear unto me. I 
 cannot look enough at my poor, sad domicile. I breathe 
 a farewell to each spot on the wall. Enjoy yourself for 
 the last time, my eyes, that are soon to be closed ! Life 
 is becoming extinguished. It is silently and gradually 
 disappearing from me, just like the coast from the 
 mariner on a floating vessel. The old, yellow face of 
 my nurse, tied up with a dirty handkerchief ; the steam- 
 ing tea-kettle on the table ; the geraniums on the win- 
 dow ; my poor dog Tresor ; the pen with which I am writ- 
 ing ; my own thin arm, I see 3*011 all ! Here you are 
 all ; here. Shall I, perhaps this very day, desist from 
 seeing you forever? It is very difficult for a living 
 being to part with life ! Why do you fawn around me,
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 129 
 
 my poor dog ? Why do you press yourself to my bed, 
 nervously wagging your bushy tail, your sad, kind eyes 
 fixed on me ? Are you sorry for me ? Do you feel or 
 know that your master is soon to be no more ? Oh, if 
 I could only pass my mind on all my memories, as I 
 pass my eye on all objects around me ! I know that all 
 those memories are cheerless and insignificant, but I 
 have no others. It is all bleak. " A gaping hollow," 
 as Liza said. 
 
 my God ! I am dying now ! A heart which is 
 able and wishing to love, will soon cease beating ! And 
 shall it actually thus be silenced forever, without having 
 tasted a single drop from the cup of happiness ? With- 
 out ever having expanded itself at the sweet breath of 
 love ? Alas, it is impossible, I know ! If now, at least 
 before my death (why, death is anyhow a solemn thing ; 
 it glorifies everybody) if now, I say, some sad, dear, and 
 friendly voice would sing over me some farewell song, 
 about my own gloomy fate, I might yet become recon- 
 ciled with it ; but to die in such ignominy, so foolishly ! 
 
 1 think I was raving just now. Farewell, life ! Fare- 
 well, my garden ! And you, my linden trees, when 
 summer comes do not fail to cover yourself with f erdure 
 and ilowers, from top to bottom. Let people enjoy rest- 
 ing in your cool shadow, inhaling your fragrance, and 
 listening to the rustling of your leaves. Farewell, fare- 
 well forever ! Farewell, Liza ! 
 
 I wrote down the last two words and almost broke out 
 laughing. It is a stage exclamation. I appear to myself 
 as if I were composing a sentimental story or writing a 
 desperate message. To-morrow is the first of April. 
 Shall I actually die to-morrow ? It seems so disrespect- 
 ful. It concords with my character, though. 
 
 How excited the physician was to-day.
 
 130 DIAEY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAN. 
 
 April 1. 
 
 It is finished now ; life is finished. I will actually 
 die to-day. It is so hot, so suffocating, or, it may be, 
 my lungs refuse to breathe. My little comedy is played 
 out the curtain is dropping. 
 
 After dissolution 1 will cease to be superfluous. 
 
 Oh, how bright the sun is ! His mighty rays bear the 
 seal of eternity. Farewell, Terentievna ! This morn- 
 ing she was weeping as she sat near the window. May- 
 be she is sorry for me, or she thought, perhaps, of the 
 end of her own life, which is not far. I made her 
 promise me that she would not kill Tresor. 
 
 I cannot write any more. I shall drop my pen. Time is 
 up ! Death does not announce itself any more like an in- 
 creasing storm, or like a carriage rolling up the street in 
 the stillness of night ;.it is here, hovering over me like the 
 soft breath at which the prophet's hair stood up like nails. 
 
 I am dying now. May the living live, 
 
 " And may around the grave I enter 
 
 Young life with relish play, 
 And nature, grand and unconcerned, 
 Eternal charms display." 
 
 [EDITORIAL NOTE. Under the last line of the manu- 
 script there was drawn a profile of a head with a long 
 bunch of hair and an extravagant mustache. The eye 
 of that caricature was drawn en face, and surrounded by 
 a number of straight lines instead of the brow. At the 
 end of the page the following words were written : 
 " Dis bouck. Bedd. 
 
 And not likin' the same, 
 
 Peter Zubotoshin, 
 
 MMMM 
 
 My dear sir, Peter Zubotoshin, 
 
 My very dear sir."
 
 DIARY OF A SUPERFLUOUS MAX. 131 
 
 But as the handwriting of these lines was different 
 from that of the whole manuscript, the editor presumes 
 to draw the conclusion that those lines have been added 
 by another person after the author's death. We also 
 have reliable information that Mr. Chulkaturin actually 
 died on the evening of the first of April, 18 in his 
 own hamlet, Ovechiy Voda.] 
 
 THE END.
 
 TKANSLATOK'S NOTE. 
 
 Turgenieff was very felicitous in the invention of names for the 
 principal characters and objects of his narratives. In the two 
 sketches of this book the significance of the following names are of 
 interest : 
 
 Ehvost is equivalent to " Tail." 
 
 Ovechiy Voda, sheep water, i.e., a river so diminished that sheep 
 can wade through it. 
 
 Chulkaturin, from Cliulok, a stocking; the formation of the 
 word implies "a large, inflated stocking." 
 
 Ojoffin (pronounced Ozliogin), burned out or singed ; scorched. 
 
 Zubotoshin, one who whets or scales his teeth ; who makes 
 mien to bite everything ; to criticise.
 
 Life of Cromwell. 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL, his Life, Times, Battlefields, and 
 Contemporaries ; with copious Index. By PAXTON HOOD, author 
 of " Christmas Evans," " Scottish Characteristics," etc. 121110, 286 
 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 New York Sun t 
 
 ' Mr. Hood's biography is a positive 
 boon to the mass of readers, because it 
 presents a more correct view of the great 
 soldier than any of the shorter lives pub- 
 li. hcd, whether we compare it with 
 Southey's, Guizot's, or even Forster's." 
 
 New York Herald t 
 
 "The book is one of deep interest. 
 The style is good, the analysis searching." 
 Pacific Churchman, San Francisco: 
 
 " The fairest and most readable of the 
 numerous biographies of Cromwell." 
 "Watchman, London, England: 
 
 " Mr. Hood'sstyle is vivid, picturesque, 
 and fascinating in no small degree. He 
 portrays his hero's weakness as well as his 
 strength." 
 
 Edinburgh (Scotland) Daily Re- 
 view: 
 
 " The book deserves to take a place 
 among the most charming and informing 
 biographical literature." 
 Christian Union, New York: 
 
 "A valuable biography of Cromwell, told 
 with interest in every part, and with such 
 condensation and skill in arrangement that 
 prominent events are made clear to all." 
 Episcopal Recorder, Philadelphia: 
 
 " An admirable and able life of Oliver 
 Cromwell, of which wecan unhesitatingly 
 speak words of praise." 
 The \Vorkman, Pittsburgh, Pa.: 
 
 " This book tells the story of Crom- 
 well'.; life in a captivating way. It reads 
 like a romance. The paper and printing 
 are very attractive." 
 
 Science in Short Chapters. 
 
 SCIENCE IN SHORT CHAPTERS. By W. MATTIEU 
 WILLIAMS, F.R.A.S., author of " The Fuel of the Sun," Through 
 Norway with a Knapsack," etc. A leading scientist in England. I2mo, 
 308 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Academy, London, England : 
 
 "Mr. Williams has presented these 
 scientific subjects to the popular mind with 
 much clearness and force. It may be read 
 with advantage by those without special 
 scientific training." 
 Christian Union, New York: 
 
 " Mr. Williams is well-known as a brill- 
 iant, original, and independent investigator 
 of scientific phenomena." 
 
 Christian Advocate, New York: 
 
 " The style is free from technicalities, 
 and the book will prove interesting and 
 instructive to those who have not time to 
 consult larger treatises." 
 
 Journal of Education, Boston : 
 
 " ' Science in Short Chapters * supplies 
 a growing want among a large class of 
 busy people, who have not time to consult 
 scientific treatises. Written in clear and 
 simple style. Very interesting and in- 
 structive." 
 Graphic, London : 
 
 " Clear, simple, and profitable." 
 Newarls(N.J .) Daily Advertiser: 
 
 " As an educator this book is worth a 
 year's schooling, and it will go where 
 schools of a high grade cannot penetrate, 
 Pall Mall Gazette, London: 
 
 "Original and of scientific value."
 
 The American Humorist. 
 
 THE AMERICAN HUMORIST. By Rev. H. R. HAWEIS, M.A., a 
 distinguished clergyman of London, author of " Music and Morals," 
 "Thoughts for the Times,'' etc. I2mo, 180 pp. Paper, 15 cents; fine 
 cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 Tlie Continent, Philadelphia: 
 " The book is one that will go far toward 
 
 giving a true impression of many American 
 
 characteristics. The price is astonishingly 
 low for the quality of paper and binding 
 used." . 
 
 
 Danbnry (Conn.) New* t 
 
 " He gives a brief bibliographical sketch 
 of each writer mentioned in ihe book, with 
 copious extracts from the writings of each. 
 An exceedingly entertaining book. Printed 
 on clear paper, contains one hundred and 
 eighty pages and sells for 15 cents the 
 price of a good cigar I" 
 
 Indianapoli* (Ind.) Sentinel* 
 
 "He presents, in fine setting, the wit and 
 wisdom of Washington Irving, Oliver W. 
 Holmes, James R. Lowell, Artemus 
 Ward, Mark Twain, and Bret Harte, and 
 does it con amare'' 
 
 Occident, San Francisco : 
 
 "This book is pleasant reading, with 
 sparkle enough in it as the writer is him- 
 self a wit to cure one of the blues.*" 
 Central Baptist, St. Louis: 
 
 " A perusal of this volume will give the 
 reader a more correct idea of the character 
 discussed than he would probably get 
 from reading their biographies. The book 
 is analytical, penetrative, terse, incisive, 
 and candid. Will amply repay reading." 
 Christian Journal, Toronto : 
 
 " Wehave been specially amused with 
 the chapter on poor Artemus Ward, which 
 we read on a railway journey. We fear 
 our fellow-passengers thought something 
 ailed us, for laugh we did, in spite of all 
 attempts to preserve a sedate appear 
 ance." 
 School Journal, New York : 
 
 "Terse and brief as the soul of wit itself." 
 
 Lives of Illustrious Shoemakers. 
 
 LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS 
 
 EDWARD WINKS. A book of " 
 25 cents; *fine cloth, $I.OO. 
 New York Herald : 
 
 " The sons of St. Crispin have always 
 been noted for independence of thought in 
 politics and in religion; and Mr. Winks 
 has written a very readable account of the 
 lives of the more famous of the craft. The 
 book is quite interesting." 
 
 Boston Globe: 
 
 "A valuable book, containing much in- 
 teresting matter and an encouragement 
 to sell-help." 
 Central Methodist, Kentucky : 
 
 " This is a choice work full of fact and 
 biography. It will be read with interest, 
 mo; e especially by that large class whose 
 
 SHOEMAKERS. By WILLIAM 
 Self Help." I2mo, 281 pp. Paper, 
 
 awl and hammer provide the human family 
 
 with soles for their feet." 
 
 'Western Christian Advocate, 
 
 Cincinnati : 
 
 " When we tint took up this volume we 
 were surprised that anybody should at- 
 tempt to make a book with precisely 
 this form and title. But as we read its 
 pages we were far more surprised to find 
 them replete with interest and instruction. 
 It should be sold by the scores of thou- 
 sands." 
 The Western Mail, England : 
 
 " Written with taste and tact, in a 
 graceful, iasy scyie. A book most interest- 
 ing to youth."
 
 Flotsam and Jetsam. 
 
 FLOTSAM AND JETSAM. A Yachtsman's Experience at Sea 
 and Ashore. By THOMAS GIBSON BOWLES, Master Marine, with 
 copious Index. I2mo, 266 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 New York World I 
 
 "This series of reflections, some phil- 
 osophic, otheispractical, and many burnt. r- 
 us, make a cheerful and healthful little 
 volume, made the more valuable by its 
 
 index." 
 
 New York Herald : 
 
 " It is a clever book, full of quaint con- 
 ceits and deep meditation. There is 
 plenty of entertaining and original thought, 
 and 'Flotsam and Jetsam' is indeed 
 wonh reading." 
 
 Saturday Review, England: 
 
 " Amusing and readable. * * * Among 
 the successful books of this order must be 
 c'assed that which Mr. Bowles has recently 
 offered to the public." 
 
 Central Methodist, Cattlesburgh, 
 
 Ky.: 
 
 "This is a romance of the sea, and is one 
 of the most readable and enjoyable of 
 books." 
 
 Methodist Recorder, Pittsburgh, 
 
 Pa.: 
 
 "It fairly sparkles with fresh and 
 original thoughts which cannot fail to in- 
 terest and profit." 
 
 Herald and Presbyter, Cincinnati, 
 Ohio: 
 
 " His manner of telling the story of his 
 varied observations and experiences, with 
 his reflections accompanying, is so easy 
 and familiar, as to lend his page', a fascina- 
 tion which renders it almost impossible to 
 lay down the book until it is read to the 
 end." 
 
 The Highways of Literature. 
 
 THE HIGHWAYS OF LITERATURE; or, WHAT TO 
 READ AND HOW TO READ. By DAVID PRYDE, M.A., 
 LL.D , author of "Great Men of European History," etc. I2mo, 
 168 pp. Paper, 15 cents; fine cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 Pacific Churchman, San Francisco: 
 
 " The best answer we have seen to the 
 common and most puzzling question, What 
 shall I read ?' Scholarly and beautiful." 
 Danbury News t 
 
 " Its hints, rules, and directions for read- 
 ing are, just now, what thousands of people 
 are needing." 
 New York Herald t 
 
 " Mr. Pryde, the author, is an erudite 
 Scotchman who has taught with much suc- 
 cess in Edinburgh. His hints on tie best 
 books and the best meihod of masteiing 
 them are valuable, and likely to prove of 
 great practical use." 
 Zlon's Herald * 
 
 "An adjMcably suggestive book upon 
 
 ' How to Read,' and ' What to Read.' It 
 is an excellent volume for our thoughtful 
 young people." 
 Canadian Baptist, Toronto: 
 
 " The introductory chapter on the selec- 
 tion and the proper employment of books 
 is worth far more than the bock costs. 
 The style is bnght and clear. Eloquence, 
 learning and common sense are happily 
 blended." 
 New York Tablet t 
 
 " This is a most useful and interesting 
 work. It consists of papers in which the 
 author offers rule* by which thereader may 
 discover the best books, and be enabled to 
 study them properl> ."
 
 Colin Clout's Calendar. 
 
 COLIN CLOUT'S CALENDAR. The Record of a Summer- 
 April to October. By GRANT ALLEN, author of "Vignettes of 
 Nature," etc. I2mo, 235 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Leeds Mercury, England : 
 
 " The best specimens of popularscier.tific 
 expositions that we have everhad the good 
 fortune to tall in with." 
 
 Edinburgh Scotsman, Scotland : 
 " There can be no doubt oi Grant Allen's 
 
 competence as a writer on natural history 
 
 subjects." 
 
 New York Herald: 
 " A book that lovers of natural history 
 
 will read with delight. The author is 
 
 such a worshiper of nature that he gains 
 
 ur sympathy at once." 
 
 The Academy, London : 
 "The point in which Mr. Grant Allen 
 
 is beyond rivalry is in his command of 
 
 language. By this we do not mean only 
 
 his rich vocabulary, but include also his 
 
 arrangement of thought and his manip- 
 ulation of sentences. We could imagine 
 few better lessons to a pupil of English 
 than to be set to ana'yze and explain the 
 charm of Mr. Grant Allen's style." 
 Good Literature, New York : 
 
 " A trustworthy guide in natural history, 
 as well as a delightful, entertaining 
 writer." 
 Ameiican Refoimer, New York: 
 
 " This book consists of short chapters 
 upon natural history, written in an eas- , 
 fascinating style, giving rare and valuable 
 information." 
 National Baptist, Phila.: 
 
 "Just the book to have at hand for the 
 pleasant and easy study of natural his- 
 tory." 
 
 Charlotte Bronte. 
 
 AN HOUR WITH CHARLOTTE BRONTfe; or, FLOWERS 
 FROM A YORKSHIRE MOOR By LAURA C. HOLLOWAY, 
 author of " Ladies of the White House," etc. I2mo, 156 pp. Paper, 
 15 cents; fine cloth, 75 cents. The 75 cent edition contains a fine steel 
 engraving of Charlotte Bronte^ 
 
 Daily Advertiser, Newark, N. J.: 
 "There was but one Charlotte Bront6, 
 
 as there was but one WilliamShakespeare. 
 
 To wiite her life acceptably, one must 
 
 hare made it the study of years; have 
 
 studied it in the integrity of all its rela- 
 tions, and considered it from the broadest 
 
 as well as from the narrowest aspect. This 
 is what Mrs. Holloway has done." 
 
 New York Herald: 
 
 " There are, at times, flights of eloquence 
 that rise to grandeur." 
 
 Zion's Herald, Boston : 
 
 " This well-written sketch, with selec- 
 tions from her writings, will be appreciated, 
 and give a clear idea of the remarkable 
 intellectual ability of this gifted but heavily 
 burdened woman." 
 
 American Reformer, New York: 
 
 " The brief sketch of the life of this rare 
 woman is so sad that it makes a somber 
 picture. But there is such a sweet spirit 
 shining out in every place that it tinges the 
 picture with a radiance almost supernal. 
 No one can read the story of her life ex- 
 cept to be charmed by the character of the 
 patient sufferer. This, together with the 
 extracts from her letters, prcse and poetical 
 works, makes a volume of rare interest." 
 
 Brooklyn Daily Eagle: 
 
 " Managed with the rare skill we might 
 expect at the handsof a fair-minded woman 
 dealing with the traits of character and 
 the actual career of one who, amid extra- 
 ordinary circumstances of adversity, plod- 
 ded her way to fame within the span of a 
 brief lifetime."
 
 K 
 
 George Eliot's Essays. 
 
 THE ESSAYS OF GEORGE ELIOT, Collected and Arranged, 
 with an Introduction on her " Analysis of Motives.' 1 By NATHAN 
 SHEPPARD, author of "Shut up in Paris," " Readings from George 
 Eliot," etc. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 ( This is the first appearance of these Essay; in book form in England 
 or America.') 
 
 '.Flie Critic, New York: 
 
 "Messrs. Funk & Wagnalls have done 
 U real service to George Eliot's innumer- 
 able admirers by reprinting in their popu- 
 lar STANDARD LIBRARY the great novel- 
 ist's occasional contributions to the period- 
 ical press." 
 New York Sun t 
 
 "In the case of George Eliot especially, 
 whose reviews were anonymous, and who 
 could never have supposed that such 
 fugitive ventures would ever be widely 
 associated with the name of a diffident 
 and obscure young woman, we gain access 
 in her early essays, as in no other of her 
 published writings, o the sanctuary c f her 
 deepest convictions, and to the intellectual 
 workshop in which literary methods and 
 processes were tested, discarded, or ap- 
 proved, and literary tools fashioned and 
 manipulated long before the author had 
 discerned the large purposes to which they 
 were to be applied. * * * Looking back 
 over the whole ground covered by these 
 admirable papers, we are at no loss to un- 
 derstand why Gecrge Eliot should have 
 made it a :ule to read no criticisms on her 
 own stories. She had nothing to learn 
 from critics. She was justified in assum- 
 ing that not one of those who took upon 
 themselves to appraise her achievements 
 had given half of the time, or a tithe cf 
 the intellect, to the determination cf the 
 right aims and processes of the English 
 novel, which, as these reviews atte t, she 
 had herself expended on that object before 
 venturing upon that form of composition 
 which Fielding termed the modern epic." 
 Examiner, New York : 
 
 "These essays ought to be read by any 
 one who would understand this part of 
 
 George Eliot's career; and, indeed, they especially interetting." 
 
 furnish the key to all her subsequent 
 literary achievements." 
 Evening Transcript, Boston . 
 
 " No one who reads these essays will re- 
 gret their publication, for they are of 
 striking and varied ability, and add much 
 to the completeness of our conception of 
 Marian Evans' character. Critical and 
 artistic power seldom go hand-in-hand. 
 The most brilliant piece cf purely literary 
 work is the one on Heine and German 
 wit. It is one which reaches the highest 
 level of intellectual criticism, and stands 
 unsurpassed by anything of Arnold or 
 Lowell." 
 Church Union, New York: 
 
 " Nathan Sheppard, the collector of the 
 ten essays in this form, has written a high- 
 ly laudatory but critical introduction to 
 the book, on her 'Analysis of Motives/ 
 and, alter reading it.it seems to us that 
 every one who would read her worts 
 profitably and truly should first have read 
 it." 
 2 ion's Herald, Boston : 
 
 " As remarkable illustrations of her 
 ma-.cu'ine metaphysical ability as is evi- 
 denced in her strongest fictions." 
 Episc pal Methodist, Baltimore: 
 
 "Everybody of culture wants to read 
 all George Eliot wrote." 
 Har'ford Evening Post: 
 
 " They are admirable pieces of liter- 
 ary workmanship, but they are much rr.orf 
 than that. * * * These essays are tri- 
 umphs of critical analysis combined with 
 epigrammatic pungency, subtle irony c 
 and a wit that never seems strained." 
 Christian Advocate, New York : 
 
 " They show the versatility of the preat 
 novelist. One on Evangelical Teaching i
 
 Sam Hobart 
 
 SAM HOBART. The Locomotive Engineer. A Workingman's 
 
 Solution of the Labor Problem. A biography. By JUSTIN D. FULTON, 
 
 D.D., author of " Woman as God made Her.," etc. I2mo, 255 pp. 
 
 Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, JL.OO. 
 
 Danbnry News t 
 
 " It is doubtful if any working person 
 can read this book and not becorr.e a 
 better worker and a better man." 
 Lnlheiau Observer, Philadelphia : 
 
 " Dr. Fulton has done a good work in 
 writing this story of a railroad man. It is 
 a genuine record of heroic fidelity to duty. 
 Let it be scattered by the thousands." 
 Church Advocate, Harrisburg : 
 
 " If every workingman and employer 
 would follow its principles, the solution of 
 
 the Labor Question would be near at 
 
 hand." 
 
 Christian. Secretary, Hartford, 
 
 Corn.: 
 " 1 he object of the book is to show how 
 
 happy and useful a workingman may be, 
 if content in his work and willing to do 
 well. Written in a very interesting way; 
 and while it will probably be devoured 
 by railroad me , it wi.l afford very pleas- 
 urable reading to all." 
 
 liuardian, Truro, Nova Scotia : 
 
 "The author's object in writing it was 
 to portray the possibilities of happiness and 
 usefulness within the i each of a working- 
 man content to fill the sphere cf usefulness 
 awarded him, and willing to lend a help- 
 ing hand to do work for God and hu- 
 mani y. It is just such a book as we 
 would like to see in the hands of railroad 
 men." 
 
 Successful Men. 
 
 SUCCESSFUL MEN OF TO-DAY AND WHAT THEY 
 SAY OF SUCCESS. Based on facts and opinions gathered from 
 Five Hundred Prominent Men. By Rev. WILBUR F. CRAFTS, A.M., 
 author of "Heroes and Holidays," etc. A book of Self Help. 12010, 
 276 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 The Critic, New York: | more incentives to honorable living so 
 
 "This is an excellent book of the kind, delightfully and impressively told than in 
 
 and contains much that is valuable. It is 
 
 very pleasant reading, for it abounds in 
 
 good anecdotes, and c.ntains many hints 
 
 both original and practicable. It gives an 
 
 excellent definition of success." 
 
 Christian 1'iiion, New York : 
 
 " We cordially commend this book to 
 young men." 
 
 Brooklyn [N. Y.) Eagle : 
 
 " A wonderfully instructive book." 
 
 Inter-Ocean, Chicago. : 
 
 ' The style is terse, vigorous, and pleas- 
 ant, abounding in sententious maxims, 
 wh:ch are well calculated to impre-s 
 young readers. Nowhere have we found 
 
 this volume. If it could be stuffed into 
 every boy's satchel as he journeys from 
 home it would be well." 
 
 Christian Secretary, Hartford, Ct.: 
 " Full of sound, wise, and practical 
 advice to all young men rf all occupation*. 
 Written with an earnest and noble pur- 
 pose to help and encourage young men." 
 
 Young Churchman, Milwaukee: 
 
 " Full of good maxims and sound advice 
 for the young." 
 
 Lutheran Observer, Philadelphia : 
 " Clear, forcible, pungent nearly every 
 page spar 'Jes with a fresh illustration or a 
 pertinent story."
 
 NATURE STUDIES. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, GRANT ALLEN, 
 ANDREW WILSON, THOMAS FOSTER, and EDWARD CLODD. With 
 copious Index. A sterling volume. I2mo, 264 pp. Paper, 25 cents; 
 fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 The Critic, New York : 
 " Were we to act upon the principle 
 
 that good wine needs no brush, we should 
 
 certainly forbear praising the 'potable 
 
 gold' presented in 'Nature Studies.' 
 
 The twenty-four essays are at once agree- 
 able reading and intellectually stimula- 
 tive." 
 
 Danbury (Conn.) News: 
 
 " Although by a scientist, the book is 
 not a teacher of skepticisms. Procter be- 
 lieves fally in the existence of an all-creat- 
 ing, aK-ru'ing God. But his views of the 
 Greater are greater than ours, because his 
 knowledge of the vastness of time, of 
 space, and of creation, are greater than 
 ours. The book is intensely interesting, as 
 well as thoroughly instructive." 
 
 Methodist Recorder, Pittsburg : 
 
 "These eminent naturalists give us in 
 this volume many articles as interesting 
 and as exciting as a story in human life, 
 and there is not one that will disappoint 
 the most dull reader.- The theories ad- 
 vanced in some t f the articles will proba- 
 bly not be accepted, but wi'.l be cf interest 
 to show the ligat in which thoe theories 
 are held by their advocates." 
 
 Presbyterian Witness, Halifax. 
 
 N. S. : 
 
 A Ijrge amount of valuable reading 
 from five of the greatest scientists of the 
 day." 
 S. S. Journal, New York: 
 
 " They are for the most part free from 
 technical language, though discussing pro- 
 found themes." 
 
 India: What Can it Teach Us? 
 
 INDIA: WHAT CAN IT TEACH US ? A course of Lectures 
 delivered before the University of Cambridge. By F. MAX MULLER, 
 K.M. With an Introduction and Notes by Prof. Alexander Wilder, 
 M.D.; also by the American Publishers. I2mo, 288 pp. Paper, 25 
 cents; fine cloth, 1.00. 
 
 New York Times : 
 
 ' Max Miiller's enthusiasm in the cause 
 of the Indian, past and present, makes him 
 worthy of the most respectful attention. 
 * * * When one thinks what India has 
 taught the last century, and especially the 
 third quarter of tl-e present century, it is 
 remarkable that it should be necessary to 
 convince people that there is a great deal 
 worth learning from India." 
 Brooklyn (S. Y.) Union I 
 
 "The author discusses in a vivid and 
 charming manner the truthful chaiacter of 
 the Hindus, the human interest cf Sanscrit 
 literature, the lessons of the Vedas and the 
 Vedic deities, revealing the v^st richness 
 
 of his subject, which under his skillful 
 treatment becomes more and more attract- 
 ive as it is attentively examined by the 
 reader." 
 New York World I 
 
 "At this time, when the issue of Oriental 
 tradition and literature is being so success- 
 fully worked by poets and novelists, these 
 studies by an expert in the life and lore 
 of India cannot fail to interest and instruct 
 a large class of readers." 
 Journal of Commerce, New York: 
 
 " The author, the learned Miiller, shows 
 that India can teach us a great deal that 
 is well worth learning. His investigation* 
 are profound and interesting. '*
 
 A Winter in India. 
 
 A WINTER IN INDIA. By Rt. Hon. W. E. BAXTER, M.P. A 
 fascinating story of a journey through India. With Index and Notes 
 by the American Publishers, with Map. i2mo, 154 pp. Paper, 15 
 cents; fine cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 intelligent and late account of India, its 
 railways, buildings, people, civilization 
 and prospects under British rule, will find 
 this a most agreeable means of doing so." 
 Z ion's Herald, Boston : 
 
 " Gives us fresh and vivid views of this 
 mighty portion of the English Empire 
 and its probable future, and will closely 
 hold the reader's attention from beginning 
 to the end." 
 Good Literature, New York: 
 
 " Mr. Baxter is perhaps better known in 
 this country as a writer of several bright 
 and chatty sketches than as a member of 
 Parliament. 1 his book will be read with 
 enjoyment by all who desire to possess the 
 latest and most imprejudiced information 
 about this country." 
 
 New York World : 
 
 "There is not one page of dry reading 
 in the work, and the descriptions of the 
 country, its inhabitants and resources, are 
 so vividly drawn as to give the reader an 
 excellent mental photograph." 
 
 Christian Advocate t 
 
 "A piece of pleasant writing giving a 
 glimmer of that wonderful country during 
 a winter's stay. " 
 
 Christian Statesman, Philadel- 
 phia: 
 
 "His testimony to the labors of Chris- 
 tian missionaries in that fjr away land is 
 very valuable and gratifying." 
 Toronto (Canada) Mail : 
 
 " Any one who wishes to get a bright. 
 
 SCOTTISH CHARACTERISTICS. By PAXTON HOOD, author 
 of "Oliver Cromwell," " Christmas Evans," etc. I2mo, 315 pp. 
 Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 Hew York Herald : 
 
 "Paxton Hood is one of the very best of 
 our living bookmakers, * * * and hjs the 
 faculty of putting things in an attractive 
 form. He has here given us a work which 
 is not on!y readable but instructive and 
 amusing." 
 New York Examiner: 
 
 "A large fund of anecdotes utilized 
 with much literary art. A vastly enter- 
 taining book." 
 The Critic, New York : 
 
 " Many of the anecdotes are excellent, 
 and the book is a pleasant illustration of 
 thingspeculiar to Scotland and the Scotch " 
 Congregationalist, Boston: 
 
 " The stories are strung on a thread of 
 
 reflection and comment which is worthy 
 of perusal." 
 
 Interior, Chicago : 
 
 One of the liveliest and most enjoyable 
 books of the season for its sarcasm and 
 other characteristics of the genuine Scot " 
 
 Boston Globe : 
 
 " Scottish character and humor are esti- 
 mated in a faithful and generous spirit, 
 and shown with racy descriptions and 
 anecdotes." 
 Montreal Gazette > 
 
 " Whoever would see Scotland and its 
 people as they really ar*, whether he be 
 Scotch himself or not, should read these 
 characteristics."
 
 Historical and Other Sketches. 
 
 HISTORICAL AND OTHER SKETCHES. By JAMES ANTHONY 
 FROUDE. Edited with an Introduction by David H. Wheeler, LL.D. 
 I2mo, 288 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, Si.oo. 
 
 Observer, New York : 
 
 " Presents the varied characteristics of 
 Mr. Froude's style, and enables the reader 
 to form a tolerably comprehensive idea 
 of his writings without going through the 
 many volumes in which they are con- 
 tained." 
 
 Northern Christian Advocate. 
 
 Syracuse, N. V. : 
 
 " The part that every one will select first 
 is the brief account of Mrs. Carlyle's be- 
 trothal, and his estimate of the causes 
 which produced in her that discontent 
 now known as widely as her name." 
 
 The Continent, Philadelphia: 
 
 "The selections are partly literary, 
 partly historical, but all in the best manner 
 of the author, and the issue is o ic of the 
 most attractive of the s .ries." 
 
 J. A. Froude: 
 
 The following letter explains itself: 
 
 THE MOLT, SALCOMBE, 1 
 
 KlNGSBRIDGE, DEVONSHIRE, I 
 
 August 22, 1883. ) 
 
 REV. DAVID H. WHEELER, D. D., Alle- 
 gheny College, Meadville, Pa. 
 
 DEAR SIR: Your volume has reached 
 me. For your kind and charitable ac- 
 count of my individual self, I can only 
 thank you. You pass over my innumer- 
 able faults, and you graciously make the 
 most of such merits as you suppose your- 
 self to find. I thank you particularly for 
 what you say of the publication of Carlyle's 
 memoirs. When I complete my account 
 of him I can lx>k confidently to a verdict 
 in my favor; but. meanwhile, I have a bad 
 time 'of it. But I will not enter fuitheron 
 a subject which you show you fully under- 
 stand. And now accept my assurance ol the 
 gratification with which I have seen the 
 imnee of myself which your mirror reflects, 
 and believe me, yours faithfully. 
 
 Jewish Artisan Life. 
 
 JEWISH ARTISAN LIFE IN THE TIME OF JESUS. 
 By Prof. FRANZ DELITZSCH. Translated from the latest revised 
 German Edition, by Bernhard Pick, Ph. D. I2mo. Paper, 1$ cents; 
 fine cloth, 75 cents. 
 
 New York Tribune: 
 
 " In this volume the distinguished 
 German scholar describes the trades and 
 the home life of the Jews, going back to 
 the oldest sources of Rabbinical litera- 
 ture and history for his facts, and blend- 
 ing all tto a picturesque and instructive 
 whole. The work has been acd will be 
 of real value, especially to Biblical 
 students." 
 Congregationalist, Boston : 
 
 " Prof. Delitsch has depicted with great 
 distinctness popular life and manners in 
 the time of Christ." 
 School Journal, New York . 
 
 "Pruf. Delitsch has a world-wide repu- 
 
 tation as one of ihe ablest scholars in 
 Biblical science. He sketches the public, 
 the business and the home life of the Jews 
 in the time of Christ in such a ch.-rming 
 style that one is fascinated throughout." 
 S. S. Times, Philadelphia: 
 
 "An excellent portraiture of the state of 
 Jewish society in the time of Chrisi, written 
 as if an eye-witness by one whose scholar- 
 ship is unchallenged." 
 Zion's Herald, Boston : 
 
 " An original and valuable work, throw- 
 ing much light upon the New Testament 
 life of Christ, and full ol curious informa- 
 tion to the modern reader. It is tl-e result 
 of thorough scholarship."
 
 Scientific Sophisms. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC SOPHISMS. A Review of Current Theories con- 
 cerning Atoms, Apes, and Men. By SAMUEL WAINWRIGHT, D.D., 
 author of " Christian Certainty," " The Modern Avernus," etc. I2mo, 
 302 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine cloth, $1.00. 
 
 The Standard, Chicago : 
 
 " The sophistical reasoning by which it 
 has been attempted to give some scientific 
 credibility to the doctrines of Darwin and 
 his school is exposed in a trenchant and 
 telling way. He lays his hand at once 
 upon the fallacy and drags it imo the- 
 light. He fortifies his positions with tes- 
 timony drawn as well from the evolution- 
 ist himself as from his opponents. The 
 argument is thus presented in a form to be 
 appreciated by any reader, and is adapted 
 to opening the eyes of those who take it 
 for granted that doctrines associated with 
 great names and elaborated in famous 
 books must of course be true." 
 
 Independent, England : 
 
 " For the hard-working student who can 
 enjoy a fine bit of intellectual sword-play, 
 it is the very book." 
 
 Detroit (Mich.) Free Press: 
 
 "The author takes up some strong po- 
 sitions, and deals some hard knocks. It 
 will be worthy of attentive perusal." 
 
 Northern Christian Advocate, 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y.: 
 
 " Dr. Wainwright assails the evolution- 
 ists without mercy or trembling. He is 
 bold, caustic, and confident that what he 
 says is the truth. Evolution is i.self so 
 bold a theory that boldness is justified on 
 the part of the critic. The author is a 
 thorough stalwart, and his work carries the 
 weight of scholarly authority." 
 Journal of Education, Boston I 
 
 " He has ably shown the fallacies of 
 Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, and others, on 
 the subject of evolution, transmutation, 
 etc. Although dealing with difficult scien- 
 tific problems, the book is written in a 
 clear and simple style, and is well calcu- 
 lated to remove skeptical doubts." 
 
 Illustrations and Meditations. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS AND MEDITATIONS; or, Flowers from 
 a Puritan's Garden. Figures and Illustrations from the writings 
 of THOMAS MANTON, collected, arranged and commented upon by 
 Rev. CHARLES H. SPURGEON. I2mo, 283 pp. Paper, 25 cents; fine 
 cloth, $i.oo. 
 
 Christian Chronicle, London: 
 
 " Extracting all the rare and excellent 
 illustrations used by that staunch Puritan, 
 Mr. Spurgeon has collected them into a 
 volume. He says he has cleared the house 
 of tlie Puritan of all its pictures. The re- 
 
 The Congregational 1st, Boston: 
 
 " It is rich and suggestive." 
 Inter-Ocean, Chicago : 
 
 " The terse sentences and pithy phrases 
 of the old writer, Thomas Manton, have 
 a freshness about them that is morally in- 
 vigorating. Mr. Spurgeon has added to 
 each saying, remarks of his own, giving 
 much additional interest to the volume." 
 Lutheran Observer, Philadelphia: 
 
 "The quotations from Manton in this 
 volume are quite rich and helpful." 
 
 suit is a volume of quaint and rare value. 
 It was indeed kind of Mr. Spurgeon to 
 pick all the flowers from Mr. Manton's 
 garden, and present us with such a 
 bouquet."
 
 PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK <t WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 
 
 * Tile most important and practical work of the ace on tne 
 Psalms." SCHAFF. 
 
 SIX VOLUXKS NOW RKADV. 
 
 -SPURCEON'S GREAT LIFE WORK - 
 
 THE TREASURY OF DAVID I 
 
 To be published in seven octavo volumes of about 470 pages each, 
 uniformly bound, and making a library of 3,300 pages, 
 
 in handy form for reading and reference. 
 
 It is published simultaneously with, and contains the exact matter of, 
 the English Edition, which has solJ at $4.00 per volume 
 in this country $28.00 for the work when com- 
 pleted. Our edition is in every way pref- 
 erable, and is furnished at 
 
 ONE-HA1F THE PEICE OP 
 
 THE ENGLISH 
 
 EDITION. 
 
 Price, Per Vol. $2. CO. 
 
 "Messrs. Funk 6^ Wagnalls have entered into an arrangement with 
 9te to refrint THE TREASUR Y OF DA VID in the United States. 2 
 have every confidence in them that they will issue it correctly and worthily. 
 It has been the great literary work of my life, and I trust it will be as 
 kindly received in America as in England. I wish for Messrs. Funk suc- 
 eess in a venture which must involve a great risk and much outlay. 
 
 ">ef. 8, i88f. C. ff. SPURGE ON." 
 
 Volumes I., II., TTT., IV., V. and VL are now ready; volume 
 VII., which completes the great work, is now under the hand of the 
 author. Subscribers can consult their convenience by ordering all 
 the volumes issued, or one volume at a time, at stated intervals, until 
 the set is completed by the delivery of Volume VJLL 
 
 From the Lrge number of hearty commendations of this import- 
 ant work, we give the following to indicate the value set upon the 
 game by 
 
 EMINENT THEOLOGIANS AND SCHOLARS. 
 
 Philip Schaff, -.D.,the Eminent 
 Commentator and the President of the 
 American Bible Revision Committee, 
 ays: " The most important and prac- 
 
 tical -work of the age on the Psalter ie 
 ' The Treasury of David.' by Charles H 
 Spurgeon. It is full of the force and 
 genius of this celebrated preacher, and 
 
 (OVER.) 
 
 above workt wtll be sent b) mail, pott aft faid, on receipt tf tkt frit*.
 
 PUBLICATIONS OF FUNK* WAGNALLS, NEW YORK. 
 
 rich In selections from the entire range 
 ef literature." 
 
 Wriiam M. Taylor, D.D., 
 
 New York says: ' In the exposition of 
 the heart 'THE TKEASUBJ- OF DAVID* is 
 mi generis, rich in experience and pre- 
 eminently devotional. The exposition 
 is aiwa\ s fresh. To the preacher it is ' 
 especially suggestive." 
 
 John Hall, D.O., New IVik, 
 says: "'There are two questions that 
 must interest every expositor of tha 
 Divine Word. What does a particular 
 passage mean, and to what use is it to 
 be applied in public teaching? In the 
 department of the Utter Mr. Spur- 
 geon's great work on the Psalms is 
 without an equal. Eminently practical 
 in his own teaching, he has collected in 
 these volumes the best thoughts of the 
 best minds on the Psalter, and es: e- 
 cially of that great body.loosely grouped 
 together as the Puritan divines. I am 
 heartily glad that by arrangements, 
 satisfactory to all concerned, tl e Messrs. 
 Funk & Wa_> nails are to bring iuisgr at 
 work within tha reach ol ministers 
 everywhere, as the English edition is 
 necessarily expensive. I wish the 
 highest success to the enterprise." 
 
 William Ormlston, !>.*>., New 
 
 York, says: " I consider THE TREASURY 
 OF DAVID' a work of surpassing excel- 
 lence.of inestimable value to every stu- 
 dent of the ' salter. It will prove a 
 standard work on the Psalms lor all 
 time. The instructive introductions, 
 the racy ori ,inal expositions, the 
 numeious q aint illustrations gath- 
 ered ir jm wide and varied fields, and 
 the suggestive sormonic hin s, render 
 the volumes invaluable to all preachers, 
 and indispensable to every minister's 
 library. All who delight in reading the 
 Psal a s and what Christian does not? 
 will prize this work. It is a rich 
 cycl >pdia of the literature of tiiese 
 ancient odes." 
 
 Theo. li. Cnyler, D.D.. Brook- 
 lyn, says: " I have usei Mr. Spurgeon's 
 THB TKEASUBY OF DAVID' for three 
 years, and found it worthy of its name. 
 Whoso goethin there will find 'rich 
 spoils.' At both my visits to Mr. 8 he 
 spoke with much enthusiasm of this 
 undertaking as one of his favor, te 
 methods of enriching himself and 
 others." 
 
 Jesie B. T liomas, D.D , Brook, 
 lyn, says: " I have the highest concep- 
 
 tion of the sterling worth of all Mr. 
 Spurgeon's publications, and I incline 
 to regard his TBEABUBY OF DAVID' a* 
 having received more of his loving 
 labor than any other. I regard its 
 publication at a lower price as a treat 
 service to American Bible btudents." 
 
 New York Observer says; A 
 
 nob compendium of suggestive com- 
 ment upon the richest devotional 
 poetry ever given to mankind. ' 
 
 Tli- Congregational!**, Bos- 
 ton, says: " As a devout and spiritually 
 Sugg-stive work, it is meeting with 
 the warmest approval and receiving 
 the hearty commendation of the most 
 distinguished divines." 
 
 United Presbyterian, Pitts- 
 burg, Pa , says: " It is unapproached 
 as a commentary on the Psalms. It is 
 of equal value i o ministers and lay- 
 men a quality that works of the kind 
 rarely possess." 
 
 North American, Philadelphia, 
 Pa.: says: "\\ill find a place in the 
 library of every minister who knows 
 how to appreciate a good thing." 
 
 New York Independent Fays: 
 " He has ransacked evangelical litera- 
 ture.and comes forth, like Jessica from 
 her father's houss, 'gilded with 
 ducats' and rich plunder in the shape 
 of good and helptul quotations.' 
 
 New York Tribnne says: "For 
 the great majority of readers who seek 
 in the Psalms those pra tical lessons 
 in which they are so rich, and those 
 wonderful interpretations of heart-life 
 and expression of emotion in which 
 they anticipate ihe New Testament, we 
 know of no book like this, nor as good. 
 It is literally a Treasury.' " 
 
 P. S. Times sa s: "Mr. Fpurgeon's 
 style is simple, direct and perspicuous, 
 oiten reminding one of the matchless 
 prose of Bunyan." 
 
 West* rn Christian Advo-af e, 
 Cincinnati, O., says: "The price is ex- 
 tremely moderate ior so Jarge and im- 
 portant a work. * * * We have ex- 
 amined this volume with care, and we 
 are greatly pleased with the plan of 
 execution." 
 
 Christian Herald says: " Con- 
 tains more felicitous illustrations, 
 more valuable sermonic hints, than can 
 be found in all other works on the 
 same book put together." 
 
 The above works vnll be sent by mail, postage paid, OH receipt of tke frtct.