twice you have been in love. In time you will marry; a career is before you; only apply yourself; and with it a fortune. Do everything like every one else, and destiny J will not pass you over; you will have your share. It's I ridiculous to regard oneself as some one grand and excep-/ tional when one has not been created so! Come, what ' have you to complain of? "
"I don't blame you, uncle, quite the contrary. I can appreciate your intentions, and thank you from my heart for them. What can one do since they failed ? Don't blame me either. We did not understand each other, that's where our trouble arose! What suits and is pleasant to you, and to some others perhaps, is disagreeable to me."
" Pleasant to me and some others, perhaps." .... it's not at all as you say, my dear fellow ! do you suppose that I'm the only person who thinks and acts as I taught you to think and act ? Look round you; consider the mass of men, the herd as you call it, not as they live in the country— it takes a long while for anything to reach them—but the mass of civilised, thinking, acting men of to-day; what do they want, what are they striving after, what is their view ? and you will see it's precisely as I taught you. The demands I made of you did not originate with me."
" With whom then ? " asked Lizaveta Alexandrovna.
u With the age."
" And must one absolutely fall in with every idea of one's age ? " she demanded. " Are they all so right, all so true ? "
" All are right!" replied Piotr Ivanitch.
" What! is it true that one must go more by reason than by feeling? That one must not yield to the heart, but must restrain all demonstrations of emotion, and not give way to spontaneous impulses, not believe in them ? "
"Yes," said Piotr Ivanitch.
" That one must always act on a system, trust very little in people, reckon everything as uncertain, and live only for oneself?"
" Yes."
" And is it right that love is not the chief thing in life, that one must care more for one's work than for one's dearest ones, that one must not count on any one's devotion, but must believe that love will end in coldness, estrangement,
or habit ? that friendship is all a matter of habit ? Is all that true?"
" It was always true," said Piotr Ivanitch, " only in former days men would not believe it, but now it has become commonplace truism."
" And is it right that one should consider, and calculate and deliberate over everything and not let oneself forget, and dream and be lured on by a sham, even though one might be happy so ? "
" It's right because it's rational," said Piotr Ivanitch.
" And is it true that one ought to be guided by prudence even with those nearest your heart—with your wife, for example ? "
"I never have had such a pain in my back—ah?" said Piotr Ivanitch, shrinking in his chair.
" Oh, your back! It's a glorious age indeed !"
" Yes, a very glorious age, my dear; nothing is done like that by caprice; in everything there is prudence, reason, experience, gradual progress, and consequently success; everything is struggling towards improvement and progress."
" There may be truth in your words, uncle," said Alexandr, "but it's no comfort to me. I comprehend everything after your theory. I look at things with your eyes; I am a disciple of your school; but meantime life is a weariness to me—grievous, insupportable. Why is that ? "
"Oh, because you are not suited to the new order of things. For all the mistakes you charged me with just now," said Piotr Ivanitch, after an instant's thought, " I have one great justification; do you remember when you first arrived here, after five minutes' talk with you, I advised you to go back ? You would not listen to me. Why do you attack me now, then ? I told you beforehand that you were not fitted for the existing order of things, and you trusted to my guidance, asked for my advice, and talked in grand style of contemporary triumphs of science, of the struggles of humanity, of the practical bent of the age—well, there you are ! It wasn't possible for me to be looking after you like a nurse from morning till night; why should 1 ? I couldn't be your sponsor, or even put a handkerchief over your mouth at night to keep the flies off. I told you the fact because you ask for it; and what has come of it is nothing to do with me. You are not a baby, nor a fool, you can
reason for yourself. Then, instead of doing your work, you're first groaning over some girl's fickleness, then weeping over a separation from a friend, first wretched over the emptiness of your heart, then over its fulness; what sort of life is that ? Why, it's misery ! Look at the young men of to-day; they are young men worth having; they all seem boiling over with intelligent activity and energy. How skilfully and easily they steer their way through all the nonsense, which—in your old jargon—is called ' passionate emotion,' ' spiritual agonies,' and devil knows what!"
" How easily you talk!" said Lizaveta Alexandrovna; " have you no pity for Alexandr ? "
" No. If he had a pain in his back, I should pity him ; that not an idea, nor a dream, nor romantic, but a real sorrow .... Ugh !"
" Tell me, at least, uncle, what I had better do now ? How with your good sense do you solve that problem ? "
" What_y_ou should do ? why, go back.Jo the country." I / "To the country!" repeatecTXizaveta Alexandrovna; "are / you mad, Piotr ivanitch ? What can he do there ? " { "To the country ! " repeated Alexandr, and both looked
at Piotr Ivanitch.
"Yes, to the country; there you would be with your " mother and be a comfort to her. You are seeking a peaceful life now; there is everything to agitate you here; and what place could be more peaceful than there by the lake, with your aunt. Upon my word, I would go ! And who knows ? perhaps you may .... Ugh ! "
He clutched at his spine.
In a fortnight Alexandr had sent in his resignation and had come to fake leave of his uncle and aunt. Alexandr and his aunt were mournful and silent. Tears were shining in Lizaveta Alexandrovna's eyes. Piotr Ivanitch was the only one who talked.
" Neither career nor fortune ! " he said, shaking his head ; " was it worth while coming ? you are a disgrace to the name of Adouev !"
"That's enough, Piotr Ivanitch," said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, " we are sick of hearing of a career."
" Well, my dear, to have done nothing in se^eji^yjears J "__ ..
" Good-bye, uncle," said Alexandr. " Tha*nk you for all, for all."
" No, for nothing. Good-bye, Alexandr ? Don't you want any money for the journey ? " I ^No, thank you, I have some."
( " What does it mean ! he never will take any; it really Virritates me at last. Well, good-bye, good-bye."
"Aren't you sorry to part with him?" murmured Lizaveta Alexandrovna.
" Hm !" muttered Piotr Ivanitch, " I have grown used to him. Remember, Alexandr, that you have an uncle and a friend—do you hear ? and if you need a post, or something to do, or vile dross, come straight to me ; you will always find them all."
" And if you want sympathy," said Lizaveta Alexandrovna, " comfort in trouble, warm trusting affection "
" And sincere outpourings," added Piotr Ivanitch.
" Then remember," Lizaveta Alexandrovna went on, " that you have an aunt and a friend."
" Come, my dear, that he will not need in the country; they are all there : flowers, and love, and outpourings, and even an aunt."
Alexandr was much affected; he could not say a word. At parting from his uncle he was offering to embrace him, but not quite so confidently as seven years before. Piotr Ivanitch did not embrace him, but only took him by both hands and shook them more heartily than seven years ago. Lizaveta Alexandrovna was shedding tears.
" Ah! there's a burden off me, thank God !" said Piotr Ivanitch, when Alexandr had gone; " I feel as if my back felt easier!"
" What did he do to you ? " his wife articulated through her tears.