'And I imagine that those who have given it to you trust you.
And so what is the usc of our keeping their names?' With thcsc words Staal thre\v the list into the fire, and of course it was an exccllent thing to do.
Ogarev himsclf took the money to the barracks, and this went off without a hitch; but the young men took it into their heads to send their thanks from Orenburg to their comrades, and, as a govcrnmcnt official was going to Moscow, they seized the opporttmity and asked him to take a letter, which they were afraid to trust to the post. The official did not fail to take advantage of this rare chance to prove all the ardour of his loyal sentiments, and presented the letter to the general of gendarmes in Moscow.
28 I.e., of supervision by the political police, "·hose light blue uniform was worn with a white strap. ( Tr.)
29 Ogarev and Satin had been under secrt:'t police sunt:'illance since the summer of 1 833, in connection "·ith the Sungurov affair. In December 1 83 1. the police observed Ogarev and Sokolovsky singing the 'Marseillaise'
at the entrance to the Maly Theatre. Oblensky had been under surveillance by the police since 1 832. ( A.S.)
M Y P A S T A N D T H O U G H T S
1 06
The general of gendarmes at this time was Lesovsky, who was appointed to the post when A. A. Volkov went out of his mind, imagining that the Poles wanted to offer him the crown of Poland (an ironical trick of destiny to send a general of gendarmes mad over the crown of the Jagellons! 30 ) . Lesovsky, himself a Pole, was not a bad man, and was no fool : having wasted his property over cards and a French actress, he philosophically preferred the place of general of gendarmes in Moscow to a place in the debturs' prison of the same city.
Lesovsky summoned Ogarcv, Ketschcr, Satin, Vadim, I. Obolensky and the others, and charged them with being in communication with political criminals. On Ogarcv's observing that he had not written to any one, and that if any one had written to him he could not be responsible for it, and that, moreover, no letter had reached him, Lesovsky answered:
'You got up a subscription for them, that's still worse. For the first time the Sovereign is so merciful as to pardon you ; only I warn you, gentlemen, a strict supervision will be kept over you: be careful.'
Lesovsky looked round at them all with a significant glance and, his eyes resting upon Ketscher, who was taller and a little older than the rest and who raised his eyebrows so fiercely, he added:
'You, my good sir, ought to be ashamed, in your station in life.'
It might have been supposed that Ketscher was vice-chancellor of the Russian Heraldry Office, while as a matter of fact he was onlv a humble district doctor.
(was not sent for: probably my name was not in the letter.
This threat was like a promotion, a consecration, a winning of our spurs. Lesovsky's advice thre\v oil on the fire, and as though to make their future task easier for the police we put on velvet hercts a Ia Karl Sand31 and tied identical tricolour scarves round our necks.
30 Th<:' dynasty of kings of Poland from 1 386 to 1 5 72. (Tr.) 3 1 Karl San<!. a student of lena Uni,·l'rsitv. who in 1 8 JCl assassinat<:'d the G!'rman dramat ist Kotzbue, IJPcauS!' hP ridicu]<:'d lhl' Burschenschaft rnov<:'m<:'nt. (Tr. )
Nursery and University
1 07
After tiLe UniversitJi
BEFORE THE STORM BROKE over our heads my time at the university was coming to an end. The ordinary anxieties, the nights without sleep spent in useless mnemonic tortures, the superficial study in a hurry and the thought of the examination overcoming all interest in science-all that was as it a lways is. I wrote a dissertation on astronomy for the gold medal, and got the silver one. I am certain that I am incapable of understanding now what I wrote then, and that it was worth its weight-in silver.
It has sometimes happened to me to dream that I am a student going in for an examination-! think with horror how much I have forgotten and feel that I shall be plucked-and I have woken up rejoicing from the bottom of my heart that the sea and passports, and years and visas cut me off from the university, that no one is going to torture me, and no one will dare to give me a horrid 'one.'1 And, indeed, the professors would be surprised that I should have gone so far back in so few years.
Indeed, this did once happen to me.2
After the final examination the professors shut themselves up to rE'ckon the marks, while we, excited by hopes and doubts, hung about the corridors and entrance in little groups. Sometimes someone would come out of the council-room. We rushed to learn our fate, but for a long time there was still nothing settled. At last Heyman came out.
1 Marks in Russian educational establishments range from one to five.
(R. )
2 In 1 844 I met PereYoshchikov at Shchepkin's and sat beside him at dinner. Towards the end he could not resist saying: 'It is a pity, a very great pity, that circumstances preYented you from taking up work. You had excellent abilities.'
'But you know it's not for everyone to climb up to heaven behind you.
\Ve are busv here on earth at work of some sort.'
'Upon my word, to be sure that may be work of a sort. Hegelian philosophy perhaps. I have read your articles, and there is no understanding them; bird's language, that's queer sort of work. No, indeed! '
For a long while I was amused a t this Yerdict, that is, for a long while I could not understand that our language really was poor; if it was a bird's it must haYe been the bird that was Minerva's favourite.
M Y P A S T A N D T H O U G H T S
1 08
'I congratulate you,' he said to me, 'you are a graduate.'
'Who else, who else?'
'So-and-so, and So-and-so.'
I felt a t once sad and gay; as I went out at the university gates I thought that I was not going out at them again as I had yesterday and every day; I was becoming estranged from the university, from that parental home where I had spent four years, so youthfully and so well; on the other hand I was comforted by the feeling of being accepted as completely grown-up, and, why not admit it? by the title of graduate I had gained all at once.3
Alma Mater! I am so greatly indebted to the university, and li,·ed its life and with it so long after I had finished my studies, that I cannot think of it without love and respect. It ,..,.ill not charge me with ingratitude, though at least as regards the university gratitude is easy; it is inseparable from the love and bright memories of youth . . . and I send it my blessing from this far-off foreign land!
The year we spent after taking our degrees made a triumphant end to our early youth. It was one prolonged feast of friendship, exchange of ideas, inspiration, carousing . . . .
The little group of university friends who had survived the course did not part, but went on living in their common sympathies and fancies, and no one thought of his material situation or of arranging his future. I should not think \veil of this in men of mature age, but I prize it in the young. Youth, if only it has not been desiccated by the moral corruption of petit bourgeois ideas, is everywhere impractical, and is especially bound to be so in a young country which is full of strivings and has attained so littlP. Moreover, to be impractical is far from implying anything false: everything turned towards the future is bound to have a share of idealism. If it were not for the impractical characters, all the practical people \vould remain at the same dull stage of perpetual repetition.