Why do I so persistently paint the poverty, the imperfections of Russian life, and delve into the remotest depths, the most retired holes and corners of our empire from our subjects? The answer is that there is nothing else to be done when an Arthur's idiosyncrasy happens to incline him that way. So again we find ourselves in a retired spot. But what a spot! Imagine if you can, a mountain range like a gigantic fortress with embrasures and bastions which appear to soar a thousand bursts towards the heights of heaven, and towering grandly over a bandless expanse of plain, are broken up into precipitous, overhanging limestone cliffs. Here and there those cliffs are seamed with water-courses and gullies, while at other points they are rounded off into spurs of green. Spurs now coated with fleece-like tufts of young undergrowth, now studded with the stumps of felled trees, now covered with timber which has, by some miracle, escaped the woodman's axe. Although a river winds a while between its banks, then leaves the meadowland, divides into runlets, all flashing in the sun-like fire, plunges, reunited into the midst of a thicket of elder, birth and pine, and lastly speeds triumphantly past bridges and mills and wares which seem to be lying and wait for it at every turn. At one particular spot the steep flank of the mountain range is covered with billowy verger of denser growth than the rest, and here the aid of skillful planting added to the shelter afforded by a rugged ravine has enabled the flora of north and south so to be brought together that, twined about with sinuous hop-tendrils, the oak, the spruce fir, the wild pear, the maple, the cherry, the thorn and the mountain ash, either assist or check one another's growth, and everywhere cover the declivity with their straggling profusion. Also at the edge of the summit that can be seen mingling with the green of the trees the red roofs of a menorial homestead, while behind the upper storey is the mansion proper and its carved balcony and a great semicircular window, their gleamed the tiles and gables of some peasant's huts. Lastly over this combination of trees and roofs there rises, overtopping everything with its gilded, sparkling steeple, an old village church. On each of its pinnacles a cross of carved gild is stayed with supports of similar gilding and design, with the result that from a distance the gilded portions have the effect of hanging without visible agency in the air, and the whole, the three successive tiers of woodland, roofs and crosses whole, lies exquisitely mirrored in the river below, where hollow willows grotesquely shaped, some of them rooted on the river's banks and some in the water itself, and all drooping their branches until their leaves have formed a tangle with the water lilies which float on the surface, seem to be gazing at the marvellous reflection at their feet. Thus the view from below is beautiful indeed, but the view from above is even better. No guest, no visitor, could stand on the balcony of the mansion and remain indifferent. So boundless is the panorama revealed that surprise would cause him to catch at his breath and exclaim, Lord of Heaven, but what a prospect! And meadows started with spinnies and watermills, life forests belted with green, while beyond again there can be seen showing through the slightly misty air, strips of yellow heath, and again white rolling forests, as blue as the sea or a cloud, and more heath, paler than the first, but still yellow. Finally, on the far horizon, a range of chalk-topped hills gleams white, even in dull weather, as though it were lightened with perpetual sunshine. And here and there on the dazzling whiteness of its lower slopes some plaster-like, nebulous patches represent far-off villages which lie too remote for the eye to discern their details. Indeed, only when the sunlight touches as steeple to gold does one realize that each such patch is a human settlement. Finally, all is wrapped in an immensity of silence which even the far, faint echoes of persons singing in the void of the plain cannot shatter. Even after gazing at the spectacle for a couple of hours or so, the visitor would still find nothing to say save, Lord of Heaven, but what a prospect! Then who is that dweller in, the proprietor of this manor, a manor to which, as to an impregnable fortress, entrance cannot be gained from the side where we have been standing, but only from the other approach, where a few scattered oaks offer hospitable welcome to the visitor, and then, spreading above him their spacious branches as unfriendly embrace, accompanying him to the facade of the mansion whose top we have been regarding from the reverse aspect, but which now stands front-wise on to us, and has, on one side of it, a row of peasants' huts with red tiles and carved gables, and, on the other, the village church with those glittering golden crosses and gilded openwork charms which seem to hang suspended in the air? Yes, indeed. To what fortunate individual does this corner of the world belong? It belongs to Andrei Ivanovich Tiantyetnikov, landowner of the canton of Tremalakan, and, with all, a bachelor of about thirty. Should my lady-readers ask of me what manner of man is Tiantyetnikov, and what are his attributes and peculiarities, I should refer them to his neighbours. Of these, a member of the almost extinct tribe of intelligent staff officers on the retired list once summed up Tiantyetnikov in the phrase, He is an absolute blockhead. While a general who resided ten bursts away was heard to remark that, he is a young man who, though not exactly a fool, has at least too much crowded into his head. I myself might have been of use to him, for not only do I maintain certain connections with St. Petersburg, but also—and the general left his sentence unfinished. Thirdly, a captain superintendent of rural police happened to remark in the course of conversation. To-morrow I must go and see Tiantyetnikov about his arrears. Lastly, a peasant of Tiantyetnikov's own village, when asked what his baron was like, returned no answer at all. All of it would appear to show that Tiantyetnikov was not exactly looked upon with favour. To speak dispassionately, however, he was not a bad sort of fellow, merely a star-gazer, and since the world contains many watches of disguise, why should Tiantyetnikov not have been one of them? However, let me describe in detail a specimen day of his existence, one that will closely resummel the rest, and then the reader will be enabled to judge of Tiantyetnikov's character, and how far his life corresponded to the beauties of nature with which he lived surrounded. On the morning of the specimen day in question he awoke very late, and, raising himself to a sitting posture, rubbed his eyes, and since those eyes were small the process of rubbing them occupied a very long time, and throughout its continuance there stood waiting by the door his valet, Mikailo, armed with a towel and basin. For one hour, for two hours, did poor Mikailo stand there, then he departed to the kitchen, and returned to find his master still rubbing his eyes as he sat on the bed. At length, however, Tiantyetnikov rose, washed himself, donned the dressing gown, and moved into the drawing-room for morning tea, coffee, coca, and warm milk, of all of which he partook but sparingly, while munching a piece of bread, and scattering tobacco ash with complete insouciance. Two hours did he sit over this meal, then poured himself out another cup of the rapidly cooling tea, and walked to the window. This faced the court-chart, and, outside it, as usual, that took place the following daily altercation between a serve named Grigori, who purported to act as butler, and the housekeeper, Perfiliyevna. Grigori? Ah! You nuisance! You good for nothing!  Perfiliyevna? Yes, and don't you wish that I would? Grigori? What?  Perfiliyevna? Nay, he's as big a thief as you are! Do you think the Baron doesn't know you? He is! He must have heard everything! Grigori? Where? Perfiliyevna? There, sitting by the window, and looking at us. Next, to complete the hubbub, a served child which had been clouded by its mother, broke out into a bowl, while Borsoy Puppy, which had happened to get splashed with boiling water by the cook, fell to yelping vociferously. In short, the place soon became a babel of shouts and squeals, and, after watching and listening for a time, the Baron found it so impossible to concentrate his mind about anything that he sent outward that the noise would have to be abated. The next item was that, a couple of hours before luncheon time, he withdrew to his study, to set about employing himself upon a weighty work which was to consider Russia from every point of view, from the political, from the philosophical, and from the religious, as well as to resolve various problems which had arisen to confront the empire, and to define clearly the great future to which the country stood ordained. In short, it was to be the species of compilation in which the man of the day so much delights. Yet the colossal undertaking had progressed but little beyond the sphere of protection, since, after a pen had been ignored a while, and a few strokes had been committed to paper, the whole would be laid aside in favour of the reading of some book, and that reading would continue also during luncheon, and be followed by the lighting of a pipe, the playing of a solitary game of chess, and the doing of moral as nothing for the rest of the day. The foregoing would give the reader a pretty clear idea of the manner in which it was possible for this man of thirty-three to waste his time. Clad constantly in slippers and a dressing-gown, Tiantyatnikov never went out, never indulged in any form of dissipation, and never walked upstairs. Nothing did he care for fresh air, and would bestow not a passing glance upon all those beauties of the countryside which moved visitors to such ecstatic admiration. From this the reader will see that Andrei Ivanovich Tiantyatnikov belonged to that band of sluggards whom we always have with us, and who, whatever be their present appellation, used to be known by the nicknames of lullapers, bed presses, and marmots. Whether the type is a type originating at birth, or a type resulting from untoward circumstances in later life, it is impossible to say. A better cause than to attempt to answer that question would be to recount the story of Tiantyatnikov's boyhood and upbringing. Everything connected with the letter seemed to promise success. For twelve years of age the boy, keen with it but dream of temperament, and inclined to delicacy, was sent to an educational establishment presided over by an exceptional type of master. The idol of his pupils and the admiration of his assistants, Alexander Petrovich, was gifted with an extraordinary measure of good sense. How thoroughly he knew the peculiarities of the Russian of his day! How well he understood boys! How capable he was of drawing them out! Not a practical joker in the school, but, after perpetuating a prank, would voluntarily approach his preceptor and make to him free confession. True, the preceptor would put a stern face upon the matter, yet the culprit would depart with head held higher, not lower than before, since, in Alexander Petrovich, there was something which heartened, something which seemed to say to a delinquent, forward you, rise to your feet again, even though you have fallen. Not lectures on good behaviour was it, therefore, that fell from his lips, but rather the injunction. I want to see intelligence and nothing else. The boy who devotes his attention to becoming clever will never play the fool, for under such circumstances folly disappears of itself. And so folly did, for the boy who failed to strive in the desired direction incurred the contempt of all his comrades, and even dunces and fools of senior standing did not dare to raise a finger when saluted by their juniors with appropriate epithets. Yet this is too much, certain folk would say to Alexander. The result will be that your students will turn out pricks. But no, he would reply, not at all. You see, I make it my principle to keep the incapables for a single term only, since that is enough for them. But to the clever ones I allot a double cause of instruction. And true enough, any lad of brains was retained for this finishing course. Yet he did not repress all boyish playfulness, since he declared it to be as necessary as a rash to a doctor, inasmuch as it enabled him to diagnose what lay hidden within.  In fact, to the day of his death every former pupil would celebrate the birthday of his late master by raising his glass in gratitude to the mentor dead and buried, then close his eyelids upon the tears which would come trickling through them. Even the slightest word of encouragement from Alexander Petrovich could throw a lad into a transport of tremulous joy, and arouse in him an honourable emulation of his fellows. Because of small capacity, he did not long retain in his establishment, whereas those who possessed exceptional talent he put through an extra course of schooling. This senior class, a class composed of specially selected pupils, was a very different affair from what usually obtains in other colleges. Only when a boy had attained its ranks did Alexander demand of him what other masters indiscreetly do require of mere infants, namely the superior frame of mind which, while never indulging in mockery, can itself bear ridicule, and disregard the fool, and keep its temper, and repress itself, and as cue revenge, and calmly, proudly retain its tranquillity of soul. In short, whatever avails to form a boy into a man of a short character, that did Alexander Petrovich employing during the pupil's youth, as well as constantly put him to the test. How well he understood the art of life! Of assistant tutors he kept but few, since most of the necessary instruction he imparted in person, and, without pedantic terminology, and inflated diction and views, could so transmit to his listeners the inmost spirit of a lesson, that even the youngest present absorbed its essential elements. Also of studies he selected none but those which may help a boy to become a good citizen, and therefore most of the lectures which he delivered consisted of discourses on what may be awaiting a youth, as well as of such demarcations of life's field that the pupil, though seated as yet only at the desk, could beforehand bear his part in that field, both in thought and spirit. Nor did the master conceal anything. That is to say, without mincing words, he invariably set before his hearers the sorrows and the difficulties which may confront a man, and the trials and the temptations which may beset him. In this he did in terms as though, in every possible calling and capacity, he himself had experienced the same. Consequently, either the vigorous development of self-respect or the constant stimulus of the master's eye, which seemed to say to the pupil, forward, that word which has become so familiar to the contemporary Russian, that word which has worked such wonders upon a sensitive temperament. One nor the other, I repeat, would, from the first, cause the pupil to tackle difficulties and only difficulties, and to hunger for prowess only where the path was arduous, and obstacles were many, and it was necessary to display the utmost strength of mind. Indeed, few completed the cause of which I have spoken, without issuing therefrom reliable seasoned fighters who could keep their heads in the most embarrassing of official positions, and at times when older and wiser men, distracted with the annoyances of life, had either abandoned everything or grown slack and indifferent, had surrendered to the bribe-takers and the rascals. In short, no ex-pupil of Alexander Petrovich ever wavered from the right road, but familiar with life and with man, armed with the weapons of prudence, exerted a powerful influence upon wrong-doers. For a long time past, the ardent young Chantyatnikov's excitable heart had also beat at the thought that one day he might attain the senior class described, and indeed what better teacher could he have had before him than its preceptor? Yet just at the moment when he had been transferred there too, just at the moment when he had reached the coveted position, that his instructor come suddenly by his death.   That is to say, since the lad's frank and open demeanour savored to him only of lack of discipline, he announced, as though in deliberate spite of his predecessor, that he cared nothing for progress and intellect, but that heed was to be paid only to good behaviour. Yet, curiously enough, good behaviour was just what he never obtained, for every kind of secret prank became the rule, and while by day their reigned restraint and conspiracy, by night there began to take place chambering and wantonness. Also certain changes in the curriculum of studies came about, for there were engaged new teachers who held new views and opinions and confused their hearers with a multitude of new terms and phrases and displayed in their exposition of things both logical sequence and the zest for modern discovery and much warmth of individual bias.  Thus everything connected with the school underwent a radical alteration, and respect for authority and the authorities waned, and tutors and ushers came to be dubbed al-thera, crusty and alike, and sundry other things began to take place, things which necessitated many a penalty and expulsion, until, within a couple of years, no one who had known the school in former days would now have recognised it. Nevertheless, Tjantjetnikov, a youth of retiring disposition, experienced no leanings towards the nocturnal orgies of his companions, orgies during which the latter used a flirt with the damsels before the very windows of the headmasters' rooms, nor yet towards their mockery of all that was sacred, simply because fate had cast in their way an injudicious priest. No, despite its dreaminess, its celestial origin, and could not be diverted from the path of virtue. Yet still he hung his head, for, while his ambition had come to life, it could find no sort of outlet. Truly it were well if it had not come to life, for throughout the time that he was listening to professors who just stipulated on their chairs he could not help remembering the old preceptor, who, invariably cool and calm, had yet known how to make himself understood. To what subjects, to what lectures did the boy not have to listen, to lectures on medicine, and on philosophy, and on law, and on a version of general history so enlarged that even three years failed to enable the professor to do more than finish the introduction thereto, and also the account of the development of some self-governing towns in Germany? None of the stuff remained fixed in Tjantjetnikov's brain save as shapeless clots. For though his native intellect could not tell him how instruction ought to be imparted, it at least told him that this was not the way, and frequently at such moments he would recall Alexander Petrovich and give way to such grief that scarcely did he know what he was doing. But youth is fortunate in the fact that always before it there lies a future, and in proportion as the time for his leaving school drew nigh, Tjantjetnikov's heart began to beat higher and higher, and he said to himself, this is not life, but only a preparation for life. True life is to be found in the public service. There at least will there be scope for activity. So bestowing on the glance upon that beautiful corner of the world which never failed to strike the guest or chance visitor with amazement, and reverencing not a wit, the dust of his ancestors, he followed the example of most ambitious man of his class by repairing to St. Petersburg, whether, as we know, the more spirited youth of Russia from every quarter gravitates, there to enter the public service, to shine, to obtain promotion, and in a word to scale the topmost peaks of that pale, cold, deceptive elevation which is known as society. But the real starting point of Tjantjetnikov's ambition was the moment when his uncle, one state counsellor, Onifri Ivanovich, instilled into him the maxim that the only means to success in the service lay in good handwriting, and that without that accomplishment no one could ever hope to become a minister or statesman. Thus, with great difficulty and also with the help of his uncle's influence, young Tjantjetnikov at length succeeded in being posted to a department. On the day that he was conducted into a splendid, shining hall, a hall fitted with inlaid floors and lacquered desks as fine as though this were actually the place where the great ones of the empire met for discussion of the fortunes of the state. On the day that he saw legions of handsome gentlemen of the quill-driving profession making loud scratchings with pens and cocking their heads to one side. Lastly, on the day that he saw himself also allotted a desk, and requested to copy a document which appeared purposely to be one of the pettiest possible order. As a matter of fact it related to a sum of three rubles and had taken half a year to produce. Well, at that moment a curious and unwanted sensation seized upon the inexperienced youth for the gentlemen around him appeared so exactly like a lot of college students. And the further to complete the resemblance some of them were engaged in reading trashy translated novels which they kept hurriedly thrusting between the sheets of their apportioned work whenever the director appeared, as though to convey the impression that it was through that work alone that they were applying themselves. In short the scene seemed to Chanchetnikov strange, and his former pursuits more important than his present, and his preparation for the service preferable to the service itself. Yes, suddenly he felt a longing for his old school, and as suddenly and with all the vividness of life there appeared before his vision the figure of Alexander Petrovich. He almost burst into tears as he beheld his old master, and the room seemed to swim before his eyes, and the chinothix and the desks to become a blur and his sight to grow dim. Then he thought to himself with an effort, No, no, I will apply myself to my work, however petty it be at first. And hardening his heart and recovering his spirit he determined then and there to perform his duties in such a manner as should be an example to the rest. But where are compositions to be found? Even in St. Petersburg, despite its grim and murky exterior, they exist. Yes, even though thirty degrees of keen cracking frost may have bound the streets, and the family of the North wind be wailing there, and the snowstorm which have heaped high the pavements, and be blinding the eyes, and powdering beards and fur collars and the shaggy mains of horses, even then there will be shining hospitably through the swirling snowflakes a fourth floor window where, in a cosy room and by the light of modest candles and to the hiss of the samovar, there will be in progress a discussion which warms the heart and soul, or else a reading aloud for brilliant page of one of those inspired Russian poets with whom God has doured us, while the rest of each member of the company is heaving with a rapture unknown under a noontide sky. Gradually therefore Trenetnikov grew more at home in the service. Yet never did it become, for him, the main pursuit, the main object in life which he had expected. No, it remained but one of his secondary kind. That is to say, it served merely to divide up his time, and enable him the more to value his hours of leisure. Nevertheless, just when his uncle was beginning to flatter himself that his nephew was destined to succeed in the profession, the sad nephew elected to ruin his every hope. Thus it befell. Trenetnikov's friends, he had many, included among their number a couple of fellows of the species known as Ambitus. That is to say, though good-natured souls of that curiously restless type which cannot endure injustice, nor anything which it conceives to be such, they were thoroughly unbalanced of conduct themselves, and, while demanding general agreement with their views, treated those of others with the scantiest of ceremony. Nevertheless, these two associates exercised upon Trenetnikov, both by the fire of their eloquence and by the form of their noble dissatisfaction with society, a very strong influence. With the result that, through arousing in him an innate tendency to nerve his resentment, they led him also to notice trifles which before had escaped his attention. An instance of this is seen in the fact that he conceived against Fedorovitch Leonitsyn, director of one of the departments which was quoted in this splendid range of offices before mentioned, a dislike which proved the cause of his discerning in the man, a host of hitherto unmarked imperfections. Above all things, the Trenetnikov take it into his head that, when conversing with his superiors, Leonitsyn became, of the moment, a stick of luscious sweet-meat, but that, when conversing with his inferiors, he approximated more to a vinegar-cruit. Certain it is that, like all petty-minded individuals, Leonitsyn made a note of anyone who failed to offer him a greeting on festival days, and that he revenged himself upon anyone whose visiting card had not been handed to his butler. Eventually the youth's version almost attained the point of hysteria, until he felt that, com what might, he must insult the fellow in some fashion. To that task he applied himself con amore, and so thoroughly that he met with complete success. That is to say, he seized on an occasion to adjust Leonitsyn in such fashion that the delinquent received notice either to apologies or to leave the service, and when of these alternatives he chose the letter, his uncle came to him and made a terrified appeal. For God's sake, remember what you are doing, he cried. To think that, after beginning your career so well, you should abandon it merely for the reason that you have not fallen in with the sort of director whom you prefer. What do you mean by it? What do you mean by it? Were others to regard things in the same way, the service would find itself without a single individual. Reconsider your conduct. Forgo your pride and conceit, and make Leonitsyn immense. But, dear uncle, the nephew replied, that is not the point. The point is, not that I should find an apology difficult to offer, seeing that, since Leonitsyn is my superior, and I ought not to have addressed him as I did, I am clearly in the wrong. Rather, the point is the following. To my charge there has been committed the performance of another kind of service. That is to say, I am the owner of three hundred peasant souls, a badly administered estate, and a full of a bailiff. That being so, whereas the state will lose little by having to fill my stool with another copyist, it will lose very much by causing three hundred peasant souls to fail in the payment of their taxes. As I say, how am I to put it? I am a landowner who has preferred to enter the public service. Now, should I employ myself henceforth in conserving, restoring, and improving the fortunes of the souls whom God has entrusted to my care, and thereby provide the state with three hundred law-abiding, sober, hard-working taxpayers, how will that service of mine rank as inferior to the service of a department directing full, like Leonitsyn? On hearing this speech the state councillor could only gape, for he had not expected Tiantyatnikov's torrent of words. He reflected a few moments, and then murmured, Yes, but, but, but how can a man like you retire to rustication in the country? What society will you get there? Here one meets at least a general or a prince sometimes. Indeed, no matter whom you pass in the street, that person represents gas-lamps and European civilization. But in the country, no matter what part of it you are in, not a soul is to be encountered save mushiks and their women. Why should you go and condemn yourself to a state of vegetation like that? Nevertheless, the uncle's expostulations fell upon deaf ears, for already the nephew was beginning to think of his estate as a retreat of a type more likely to nourish the intellectual faculties and afford the only profitable field of activity. After unearthing one or two modern works on agriculture, therefore, he, two weeks later, found himself in the neighborhood of the home where his boyhood had been spent, and approaching the spot which never failed to enthrall the visitor or guest. And in the young man's breast there was beginning to palpitate a new feeling. In the young man's soul there were reawakening old, long concealed impressions, with the result that many a spot which had long been faded from his memory now filled him with interest and the beautiful views on the estate found him gazing at them like a newcomer and with a beating heart. Yes, as the road round through a narrow ravine and became engulfed in a forest where, both above and below, he saw three centuries-old oaks which three men could not have spanned, and where Siberian furs and elms overtopped even the poplars, and as he asked the peasants to tell him to whom the forest belonged, and they replied to Chentetnikov, and he issued from the forest and proceeded on his way through meadows and past spinnies of elder and of old and young willows, and arrived inside of the distant range of hills, and crossing by two different ridges the winding river, which he left successively to right and to left of him as he did so. He again questioned some peasants concerning the ownership of the meadows in the flottled lands, and was again informed that they all belonged to Chentetnikov, and then ascending a rise reached a table-land where, on one side lay un-garnered fields of wheat and rye and barley, and on the other the country already traversed, but which now showed in shortened perspective, and then plunged into the shade of some forked, embraged trees which stood scattered over the turf and extended to the manor-house itself, and caught glimpses of the carved huts of the peasants, and of the red roofs of the stone menorial outbuildings, and of the glittering pinnacles of the church, and felt his heart beating, and knew, without being told by any one, whether he had at length arrived. Well, then the feeling which had been growing within his soul burst forth, and he cried in ecstasy, Why have I been a fool so long? Why, seeing that fate has appointed me to be ruler of an earthly paradise, that I preferred to bind myself in servitude as a scribe of lifeless documents? The thing that, after I had been nurtured and schooled and stored with all the knowledge necessary for the diffusion of good among those under me, and for the improvement of my domain, and for the fulfilment of the manifold duties of a landowner who is at once judge, administrator, and constable of his people, I should have entrusted my estate to an ignorant bailiff, and sought to maintain an absentee guardianship over the affairs of serves whom I have never met, and of whose capabilities and characters I am yet ignorant. To think that I should have deemed true estate management inferior to a documentary, fantastical management of provinces which lie a thousand versts away, and which my foot has never trod, and where I could never have affected ought but blunders and irregularities. Meanwhile another spectacle was being prepared for him. On learning that the Baron was approaching the mansion, the mushyks collected on the veranda in every variety of picturesque dress and tonjure, and when these good folks surrounded him, and there arose a resounding shout of, Here is our foster father, he has remembered us. And, in spite of themselves, some of the older men and women began weeping as they recalled his grandfather and great-grandfather, he himself could not restrain his tears, but reflected, How much affection, and in return for what, in return for my never having come to see them, in return for my never having taken the least interest in their affairs. And then and there he registered a mental vow to share their every task and occupation. So he applied himself to supervising and administering. He reduced the amounts of the bas-china. He decreased the number of working days for the owner, and he augmented the sum of the peasants' leisure time. Footnote, bas-china? In the days of serfdom the rate of forced labour, so many hours or so many days per week, which the serf had to perform for his proprietor. And footnote. He also dismissed the fool of a bailiff, and took to bearing a personal hand in everything, to being present in the fields, at the threshing-floor, at the kilns, at the wharf, at the freighting of barges and rafts, and at their conveyance down the river.  But this it not last long. The peasant an observant individual, and Genjetnikov's musics soon centred the fact that, though energetic and desirous of doing much, the baron had no notion how to do it, nor even how to set about it. That, in short, he spoke by the book rather than out of his personal knowledge. Consequently things resulted not in master and men failing to understand one another, but in their not singing together, in their not producing the very same note. That is to say, it was not long before Genjetnikov noticed that on the menorial lands nothing prospered to the extent that it did on the peasants. The menorial crops were sown in good time and came up well, and every one appeared to work his best. So much so that Genjetnikov, who supervised the whole, frequently ordered mugs of vodka to be served out as a reward for the excellence of the labour performed. Yet the rye on the peasants' land had formed into ear, and the oats had begun to shoot their grain, and the millet had filled before on the menorial lands. The corn had so much as grown to stalk, or the ears had sprouted in embryo. In short, gradually the baron realized that, in spite of favours conferred, the peasants were playing the rogue with him. Next he resorted to remonstrance, but was met with the reply, How could we not do our best for our baron? You yourself saw how well we laboured at the plowing and the sowing, for you gave us mugs of vodka for our pains. Then why have things turned out so badly? the baron persisted. Who can say? It must be that a grub has eaten the crop from below. Besides, what a summer has it been! Never a drop of rain! Nevertheless, the baron noted that no grub had eaten the peasants' crops, as well as that the rain had fallen in the most curious fashion, namely, in patches. It had obliged the mugs, but had shed a mere sprinkling for the baron. Still more difficult they defined it to deal with the peasant women. Ever and unknown they would beg to be excused from work, or start making complaints of the severity of the barstchina. Indeed, they were terrible folk. However, Chantyatnikov abolished the majority of the tithes of linen, hedge-fruit, mushrooms, and nuts, and also reduced by one half other tasks proper to the women, in the hope that they would devote their spare time to their own domestic concerns, namely to sowing and mending, and to making clothes for their husbands, and to increasing the area of their kitchen gardens. Yet no such result came about. On the contrary, such a pitch that the idleness, the crawlsomeness, and the intriguing and cabaling of the fair sex attain that their help-meets were for ever coming to the baron with a request that he would rid one or another of his wife, since she had become a nuisance, and to live with her was impossible. Next, hardening his heart, the baron attempted severity. But of what avail was severity the peasant woman remained always the peasant woman, and would come and whine that she was sick and ailing, and keep pitifully hugging to herself the mean and filthy rags which she had done for the occasion. And when poor Chantyatnikov found himself unable to say more to her than just, Get out of my sight, and may the Lord go with you! The next item in the comedy would be that he would see her, even as she was leaving his gates, fall to contending with her neighbor for, say, the possession of a turnip, and dealing out slaps in their face, such as even a strong, healthy man could scarcely have come past. End of Part 2, Chapter 1, Section 1. DEAD SOULS, Part 2, Chapter 1, Section 2. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. DEAD SOULS by Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol, stated by D.J. Hogarth, Part 2, Chapter 1, Section 2, read by Anna Simon. Again, amongst other things, Chantyatnikov conceived the idea of establishing a school for his people. But the scheme resulted in a farce which left him in sackcloth and ashes. In the same way he found that, when it came to a question of dispensing justice and of adjusting disputes, the host of judicial subtleties with which the professors had provided him proved absolutely useless. Not as to say the one party lied and the other party lied, and only the devil could have decided between them. Consequently he himself perceived that a knowledge of mankind would have availed him more than all the legal refinements and philosophical maxims in the world could do. He lacked something, and though he could not divine what it was, the situation brought about was the common one of the baron failing to understand the peasant, and the peasant failing to understand the baron, and both becoming disaffected. In the end these difficulties so chilled Chantyatnikov's enthusiasm that he took to supervising the labours of the field with greatly diminished attention. That is to say, no matter whether the sides were softly swishing through the grass, or ricks were being built, or rafts were being loaded, he would allow his eyes to wander from his man, and to fold to gazing at, say, a red-billed, red-legged heron which, after strutting along the bank of his stream, would have caught a fish in its beak, and be holding it a while, as though in doubt whether to swallow it. Next he would glance towards the spot where a similar bird, but one not yet in possession of a fish, was engaged in watching the doings of its mate. Lastly, with eyebrows knitted and face turned to scan the zenith, he would drink in the smell of the fields, and fall to listening to the winged population of the air, as from earth and sky alike, the manifold music of winged creatures, combined in a single harmonious chorus. In the rye the quill would be calling, and in the grass the corn-crake, and over them would be withing flocks of twittering linets. Also the jack-snipe would be ushering as croak, and the lark executing its rillards where it become lost in the sunshine, and cranes sending forth their trumpet-like challenge as they deployed towards the zenith in triangle-shaped flocks. In fact, the neighborhood would seem to have become converted into one great concert of melody. Oh, creator, how fair is thy world, where, in remote, rural seclusion, it lies apart from cities and from highways.  Again, although until now he had to a certain extent associated with a retired colonel of Huzars, a man saturated with tobacco smoke, and also with a student of pronounced but immature opinions who culled the bulk of his wisdom from contemporary newspapers and pamphlets, he found as time went on that these companions proved as tedious as the rest, and came to think their conversations superficial, and their European method of comporting themselves, that is to say the method of conversing with much slapping of knees and a great deal of bowing and gesticulating, too direct and unadored. So these and everyone else he decided to drop, and carried this resolution into effect with a certain amount of rudeness. On the next occasion that Vava Nikolaevich Vishnep Pokromov called to indulge in a free and easy symposium on politics, philosophy, literature, morals, and the state of financial affairs in England, he was in all matters which admit of superficial discussion that the pleasantest fellow alive, seeing that he was a typical representative both of the retired fire eater and of the school of thought which is now becoming the rage. When I say this next happened, Genchetnikov merely sent out to say that he was not at home, and then carefully showed himself at the window. Host and guest exchanged glances, and while the one muttered through his teeth, the guh! The other relieved his feelings with a remark or two on swine. Thus the acquaintance came to an abrupt end, and from that time forth no visitor called at the mansion. Genchetnikov in no way regretted this, for he could now devote himself wholly to the protection of great work on Russia, of the skill in which this composition was conceived the reader is already aware. The reader also knows how strange, how insystematic was the system employed in it. Yet to say that Genchetnikov never awoke from his lethargy would not be altogether true. On the contrary, when the post brought him newspapers and reviews, and he saw in their printed pages perhaps the well-known name of some former comrade who had succeeded in the great field of public service, or had conferred upon science and the world's work some notable contribution, he would succumb to secret and suppressed grief, and involuntarily they would burst from his soul an expression of aching, voiceless regret that he himself had done so little, and at these times his existence would seem to him odious and repellent. At these times they would uprising before him the memory of his school days, and the figure of Alexander Petrovich as vivid as in life, and slowly welling the tears would cause over Genchetnikov's cheeks. What meant these repinings? Was there not disclosed in them the secret of his golling spiritual pain, the fact that he had failed to order his life a right to confirm the lofty aims with which he had started his course, the fact that always poorly equipped with experience he had failed to attain the better and the higher state, and there to strengthen himself for the overcoming of hindrances and obstacles, the fact that dissolving like overheated metal his bounty's stool of superior instincts had failed to take the final tempering, the fact that the jitter of his boyhood, a man in a thousand, had prematurely died and left to Genchetnikov no one who could restore to him the moral strength shattered by fascination and the willpower weakened by want of virility, no one in short who could cry heartily to his soul forward, the word for which the Russian of every degree, of every class, of every occupation, of every school of thought is forever hungering. Indeed, where is the man who can cry aloud for any of us in the Russian tongue dear to our soul, the all compelling command forward? Who is there who, knowing the strength and the nature and the inmost depths of the Russian genius, can by a single magic incantation divert our ideals to the higher life? Where there such a man with what tears, with what affection would not the grateful sons of Russia repay him? Yet age succeeds to age and our callow youth still lies wrapped in shameful sloth or strives and struggles to no purpose. God has not yet given us the man able to sound the call. One circumstance which almost aroused Genchetnikov, which almost brought about revolution in his character, was the fact that he came very near to falling in love. Yet even this resulted in nothing. Ten bursts away that lift the general whom we have heard expressing himself in highly uncomplementary terms concerning Genchetnikov. He maintained a general-like establishment, dispensed hospitality, that is to say, was glad when his neighbors came to pay him their respects, though he himself never went out, spoke always in a whore's voice, read a certain number of books, and had a daughter, a curious and familiar type, but full of life as life itself. This maiden's name was Ulyinka, and she had been strangely brought up for, losing her mother in early childhood, she had subsequently received instruction at the hands of an English governess who knew not a single word of Russian. Moreover, her father, though excessively fond of her, treated her always as a toy, with the result that, as she grew to years of discretion, she became wholly wayward and spoiled. Indeed, had anyone seen the sudden rage which would gather on our beautiful young fort when she was engaged in a heated dispute with her father, he would have thought her one of the most capricious beings in the world. Yet that rage gathered only when she had heard of injustice or harsh treatment, and never because she desired to argue on her own behalf, or to attempt to justify her own conduct. Also, that anger would disappear as soon as ever she saw anyone whom she had formally disliked fall upon evil times, and at its first request for alms would, without consideration or subsequent regret, hand him her purse and its whole contents. Yes, her every act was strenuous, and when she spoke her whole personality seemed to be following hot foot upon her thought, both her expression of face and her diction and the movements of her hands. Nay, the very fault of her frock had a similar appearance of striving, until one would have thought that all herself were flying in pursuit of her words. Nor did she know reticence, before anyone she would disclose her mind, and no force could compel her to maintain silence when she desired to speak. Also, her enchanting peculiar gait, a gait which belonged to her alone, was so absolutely free and unfettered that everyone involuntarily gave her way. Lastly, in her presence, Charles seemed to become confused and fall to silence, and even the roughest and most outspoken would lose their heads, and have not a word to say. Whereas the shy man would find himself able to converse as never in his life before, and would feel from the first as though he had seen her and known her at some previous period, during the days of some unremembered childhood, when he was at home, and spending a merry evening among a crowd of romping children, and for a long afterwards he would feel as though his men's intellect and estate were a burden. This was what now befell Chantetnikov, and as it did so a new feeling entered into his soul, and his dreamy life lightened for a moment. At first the general used to receive him with hospitable civility, but permanent concord between them proved impossible, their conversation always merged into dissension and soreness, seeing that, while the general could not bear to be contradicted or worsered in argument, Chantetnikov was a man of extreme sensitiveness. True, for the daughter's sake, the father was for a while deferred to, and thus peace was maintained, but this lasted only until the time when they arrived on a visit to the general, two kinswomen of his, the countess Partiref and the princess Uziyakin. Retired court dames, but ladies who still kept up a certain connection with court circles, and therefore were much fond upon by their host. No sooner had they appeared on the scene then, so it seemed to Chantetnikov, the general's attitude towards the young man became colder, either he ceased to notice him at all, or he spoke to him familiarly, and as to a person having no standing in society.  General, he said, I thank you for your condescension. By addressing me in the second person singular, you have admitted me to the so-called of your most intimate friends. Indeed, were it not that a difference of years forbids any familiarity on my part, I should answer you in similar fashion. The general said aghast. At length, rallying his tongue and his faculties, he replied that, though he had spoken with a lack of ceremony, he had used the term thou merely as an elderly man naturally employs it towards a junior. He made no reference to difference of rank. Nevertheless, the acquaintance broke off here, and with it any possibility of love-making. The light which had shed a momentary gleam before Chantetnikov's eyes had become extinguished for ever, and upon it there followed a darkness denser than before. Everything conduced to evolve the regime which the reader has noted, that regime of sloth and inaction which converted Chantetnikov's residence into a place of dirt and neglect. For days at a time would a broom and a heap of dust be left lying in the middle of a room and trousers tossing about the salon, and pairs of one-eyed braces adorning the wad-not near the sofa. In short, so mean and untidy did Chantetnikov's mode of life become that not only his servants, but even his very poultry, seized to treat him with respect.  While at other times, when he had sunk into a reverie, the pen would all unknowingly sketch a small head which had delicate features, a pair of quick, penetrating eyes, and a raised guaffure. Then suddenly the dreamer would perceive to his surprise that the pen had executed the portrait of a maiden whose picture no artist could adequately have painted, and therewith his despondency would become greater than ever, and, believing that happiness did not exist on earth, he would relapse into increased ennui, increased neglect of his responsibilities. But one morning he noticed, on moving to the window after breakfast, that not a word was proceeding either from the butler or the housekeeper, but that, on the contrary, the courtyard seemed to smack of a sudden bustle and excitement. This was because through the entrance gates, which the kitchen maid and the scullion had run to open, there were appearing the noses of three horses, one to the right, one in the middle, and one to the left, after the fashion of triumphal groups of statuary. Above them, on the box seat, were seated a coachman in a valley, while behind again there could be discerned a gentleman in a scarf and a fur cap. Only when the equi-pitch had entered the courtyard did it stand revealed as a light-spring britchke, and as it came to a halt there leapt onto the veranda of the mansion, an individual of respectable exterior, and possessed of the art of moving with the neatness and alertness of a military man. Upon this, Chantetnikov's heart stood still. He was unused to receiving visitors, and for the moment conceived the new arrival to be a government official, sent to question him concerning an abortive society to which he had formerly belonged. Here the author may interpolate the fact that, in Chantetnikov's early days, the young man had become mixed up in a very absurd affair. That is to say, a couple of philosophers belonging to a regiment of hussars had, together with an esthete who had not yet completed his student's course, and a gambler who had squandered his all, formed a secret society of philanthropic aims under the presidency of a certain old rascal of Freemason, and the ruined gambler foresaid. The scope of the society's work was to be extensive. It was to bring lasting happiness to humanity at large, from the banks of the Thames to the shores of Kamchatka. But for this much money was needed, wherefore from the noble-minded members of the society generous contributions were demanded, and then forwarded to a destination known only to the supreme authority to the concern. As for Chantetnikov's athesian, it was brought about by the two friends already alluded to as embittered, good-hearted souls whom the wear and tear of their efforts on behalf of science, civilization, and the future emancipation of mankind had ended by converting into confirmed drunkards. Perhaps it need hardly be said that Chantetnikov soon discovered how things stood, and withdrew from the association. But, meanwhile, the latter had had the misfortune so to have engaged in dealings not wholly creditable to gentlemen of noble origin as likewise to have become entangled in dealings with the police. Consequently, it is not to be wondered at that, though Chantetnikov had long severed his connection with his society and his policy, he still remained uneasy in his mind as to what might even yet be the result. However, his fears vanished, the instant that the guests slew to him with marked politeness, and explained, but many differentials poises of the head, and in terms at once civil and concise, that for some time past he, the newcomer, had been touring the Russian Empire on business and the pursuit of knowledge, that the Empire abounded in objects of interest, not to mention a plenitude of manufacturers and a great diversity of soil, and that, in spite of the fact that he was greatly struck with the amenities of his hosts' domain, he would certainly not have presumed to intrude at such an inconvenient hour, but for the circumstance that the inclement spring weather added to the state of the roads had necessitated sundry of repairs to his carriage at the hands of wheel-rides and blacksmiths. Finally, he declared that, even if this last had not happened, he would still have felt unable to deny himself the pleasure of offering to his host that meat of homage which was the latter's due. This speech, a speech of fascinating bonomy, delivered, the guest executed this sort of shuffle with a half-wood of patent leather stirred with buttons of mother of pearl, and followed that up by, in spite of his pronounced rotundity of figure, stepping backwards with all the yarn of an Indian rubber ball. From this the somewhat reassured Chantyatnikov concluded that his visitor must be a literary knowledge-seeking professor who is engaged in roaming the country in search of botanical specimens and fossils, wherefore he hastened to express both his readiness to further the visitor's objects, whatever they might be, and his personal willingness to provide him with the requisite wheel-rides and blacksmiths. Meanwhile he begged his guest to consider himself at home, and, after seating him in an armchair, made preparations to listen to the newcomer's discourse on natural history. But the newcomer applied himself rather to phenomena of the internal world, saying that his life might be likened to a bark tossed on the crests of perfidious billows, that in his time he'd been fated to play many parts, and that on more than one occasion his life had stood in danger at the hands of foes. At the same time these tidings were communicated in a manner calculated to show that the speaker was also a man of practical capabilities. In conclusion the visitor took out a cambrick pocket-hunk-achieve and sneezed into it with the vehemence wholly new to Djentje Dinkov's experience. In fact the sneeze rather resembled the note which, at times, the trombone of an orchestra appears to utter not so much from its proper place on the platform as from the immediate neighbourhood of the listeners ear. And, as the echoes of the drowsy mansion resounded to the report of the explosion, there followed upon the same a wave of perfume skillfully wafted abroad with a flourish of the odour cologne-centred handkerchief. By this time the reader will have guessed that the visitor was none other than our old and respected friend Paul Ivanovich Chichikov. Naturally time had not spared him his share of anxieties and alarms, wherefore his exterior had come to look a trifle more elderly. His frock-coat had taken on the suggestion of shabbiness, and Brechka, coachman, valet, horses, and harness alike had about them a sort of second hand worse for wear effect. Evidently the Chichikovian finances were not in the most flourishing of conditions. Nevertheless the old expression of face, the old air of breeding and refinement, remained unimpaired, and our hero had even improved in the art of walking and turning with grace, and of dexterously crossing one leg over the other when taking a seat. Also his mildness of addiction, his discreet moderation of word and phrase, survived in, if anything, increased measure, and he bore himself with the skill which caused his tactfulness to surpass itself in sureness of aplomb. And all these accomplishments had their effect further heightened by a snowy immaculateness of colour and dicky, and an absence of dust from his frock-coat, as complete as though he had just arrived to attend a name-day festival. Lastly his cheeks and chin were of such neat clean shaveness that no one but a blind man could have failed to admire their rounded contours. From that moment onwards great changes took place in Chetchetnikov's establishment, and certain of its rooms assumed an unwanted air of cleanliness and aura. The rooms in question were those assigned to Chichikov, while one other apartment, a little front chamber opening into the hall, became permeated with Petrushka's own peculiar smell. But this lasted only for a little while, for presently Petrushka was transferred to the servant's quarters, a cause which ought to have been adopted in the first instance. During the initial days of Chichikov's sojourn, Chetchetnikov feared rather to lose his independence, inasmuch as he thought that his guest might hamper his movements and bring about alterations in the established routine of the place. But these fears proved grandless, for Paul Ivanovich displayed an extraordinary aptitude for accommodating himself to his new position. To begin with he encouraged his host in his philosophical inertia by saying that the letter would help Chetchetnikov to become a centenarian. Next in the matter of a life of isolation he hid things off exactly by remarking that such a life bred in a man a capacity for high thinking. Lastly as he inspected the library and dilated on books in general, he contrived an opportunity to observe that literature safeguarded a man from a tendency to waste his time. In short, the few words of which he delivered himself were brief but invariably to the point. And this discretion of speech was outdone by his discretion of conduct. That is to say, whether entering or leaving the room, he never worried his host with a question if Chetchetnikov had the air of being disinclined to talk, and with equal satisfaction the guest could either play chess or hold his tongue. Consequently Chetchetnikov said to himself, for the first time in my life I have met with a man with whom it is possible to live, in general not many of the type exist in Russia, and though clever, good-humoured, well-educated man abound, one would be hard put to it to find an individual of equable temperament with whom one could share a roof for centuries without a quarrel arising. Anyway, Chetchikov is the first of his sort that I have met. For his spot Chetchikov was only too delighted to reside with a person so quiet and agreeable as his host. Of a wandering life he was temporarily wary, and to rest even for a month in such a beautiful spot and inside of green fields and the slow flowering of spring was likely to benefit him also from the hygienic point of view. And indeed a more delightful retreat in which to recuperate could not possibly have been found. The spring, long retarded by previous cold, had now begun in all its comeliness, and life was rampant. Already over the first emerald of the grass the dandelion was shown yellow, and the red-pink anemone was hanging its tender head, while the surface of every pond was a swarm of dancing gnats and midges, and the water-spider was being joined in their pursuit by birds which gathered from every quarter to the vantage ground of the dry reeds. Every species of creature also seemed to be assembling in kunkus and taking stock of one another. Suddenly the earth became populous, the forest had opened its eyes, and the meadows were lifting their voices in song. In the same way had coral dances begun to be weaved in the village, and everywhere that the eye turned there was merriment. What brightness in the green of nature, what freshness in the air, what singing of birds in the gardens of the mansion, what general joy and rapture and exaltation, particularly in the village might the shouting and singing have been in honor of a wedding. Chichikov walked hither, thither and everywhere, a pursuit for which there was ample choice and facility. At one time he would direct his steps along the edge of the flat table-land and contemplate the deaths below, where still there lay sheets of water left by the floods of winter, and where the island-like patches of forest showed leafless boughs, while at another time he would plunge into the thicket and ravine country, where nests of birds waited branches almost to the ground, and the sky was darkened with a crisscross flight of coring rooks. Again the drier portions of the meadows could be crossed to the river-wolves, whence the first barges were just beginning to set forth with pea-meal and barley and wheat, while at the same time one's ear would be caught with the sound of some mill resuming its functions as once more the water turned the wheel. Chichikov would also walk afield to watch the early tillage operations of the season, and observe how the blackness of a new furrow would make its way across the expensive green, and how the sower, rhythmically striking his hand against the penuous slung across his breast, with scatterous fistfuls of seed with equal distribution, apportioning not a grain too much to one side or to the other. In fact, Chichikov went everywhere. He chatted and talked, now with a bailiff, now with a peasant, now with a miller, and inquired into the manner and nature of everything, and sought information as to how an estate was managed, and at what price corn was selling, and what species of grain was best for spring and autumn grinding, and what was the name of each peasant, and who was kinsfolk, and where it bought his cow, and what he fed his pigs on. Chichikov also made inquiry concerning the number of peasants who had lately died, but of these there appeared to be few, and suddenly his quick eye discerned that Chichikov's estate was not being worked as it might have been, that much neglect and listnesses and pilfering and drunkenness was abroad, and on perceiving this, he thought to himself, what a fool's that Chichikov, to think of letting a property like this decay when he might be drawing from it an income of fifty thousand rubles a year. Also, more than once, while taking these walks, our hero pondered the idea of himself becoming a landowner. Not now, of course, but later, when his chief aim should have been achieved, and it got into his hands the necessary means for living the quiet life of the proprietor of an estate. Yes, and at these times there would include itself in his castle building the figure of a young, fresh, fair-faced maiden of the mercantile or other rich grade of society, a woman who could both play and sing.  And from that he would go on to fancy that a title appended to his rank would not be a bad thing. The title of State Councilor, for instance, which was deserving of all honour and respect. Ha, it is a common thing for a man who is taking a solitary walk, so to detach himself from the irksome realities of the present, that he is able to stir and to excite and provoke his imagination to the conception of things he knows can never really come to pass. Chichikov's servants also found dimension to their taste, and, like their master, speedily made themselves at home in it. In particular did Patruska make friends with Grigory the butler, although at first the pair showed a tendency to outbreak one another. Patruska beginning by throwing dust in Grigory's eyes on the score of his Patruska's travels, and Grigory taking him down a peg or two by referring to St. Petersburg, a city which Patruska had never visited, and Patruska seeking to recover lost ground by their lateing on towns which he had visited, and Grigory capping this by naming some town which is not to be found on any map in existence and then estimating the journey thither as at least thirty thousand verses, a statement which would so completely flabbergast the henchmen of Chichikov's suite that it would be left staring open-mouthed, amid the general laughter of the domestic staff. However, as I say, the pair ended by swearing eternal friendship with one another, and making a practice of resorting to the village taverning company. For cellophane, however, the plays had a charm of a different kind, that is to say, each evening there would take place in the village a singing of songs and a weaving of country dances, and so shapely and buxom were the maidens, maidens of a type hard to find in our present-day villages and larger states, that it would stand for hours wondering which of them was the best. White necked and white bosomed, all had great roving eyes, the gait of peacocks, and hair reaching to the waist, and as, with his hands clasping dares, he glided hither and thither in the dance, or retired backwards towards a wall with a row of other young fellows, and then, with them, returned to meet the damsels, all singing in chorus, and laughing as they sang it. Boyars, show me my bridegroom! And dusk was failing gently, and from the other side of the river they kept coming far, faint, plain diff echoes of the melody. Well, then our cellophane hardly knew whether he was standing upon his head or his heels. Later, when sleeping and when waking, both at noon and at a twilight, he would seem still to be holding a pair of wide hands and moving in the dance. Chichikov's horses also found nothing of which to disapprove. Yes, both the bay, the assessor, and his cue-bold, accounted residents at Genchetnikov's a most comfortable affair, and voted the oaths excellent and the arrangement of the stables beyond all cavill. True, on this occasion each horse had us tall to himself, yet by looking over the intervening partition it was possible always to see one's fellows, and through their neighbor take it into his head to utter an A to answer it at once. As for the errand which had hitherto led Chichikov to travel about Russia, he had now decided to move very cautiously and secretly in the matter. In fact, on noticing that Genchetnikov went in absorbitly for reading and for talking philosophy, the visitor said to himself, No, I'd better begin at the other end, and proceeded first to feel his way among the servants of the establishment. From them he learned several things, and in particular that the Baron had been want to go and call upon a certain general in the neighborhood, and that the general possessed a daughter, and that she and Genchetnikov had had an affair of some sort, but that the pair had subsequently parted, and gone there several ways. For that matter Chichikov himself had noticed that Genchetnikov was in the habit of drawing heads of which each representation exactly resembled the rest. Once, as he said tapping his silver snuff-box after luncheon, Chichikov remarked, One thing you lack, and only one, Andrey Ivanovich. What is that? asked his host. A female friend or two replied Chichikov. Genchetnikov made no rejoinder, and the conversation came temporarily to an end. But Chichikov was not to be discouraged, wherefore, while waiting for supper and talking on different subjects, he seized an opportunity to interject. Do you know? It would do you no harm to marry. As before Genchetnikov did not reply, and the renewed mention of the subject seemed to have annoyed him. For the third time, it was after supper, Chichikov returned to the charge by remarking, Today, as I was walking round your property, I could not help thinking that marriage would do your great deal of good, otherwise you will develop into a hypochondriac. Whether Chichikov's words now voiced sufficiently the note of persuasion, or whether Genchetnikov happened at the moment to be unusually disposed of frankness, at all events the young landowner sighed, and then responded as he expelled a puff of tobacco-smoke. To attain anything, Pavel Vanovich, one needs to have been born under a lucky star, and he related to his guest the whole history of his acquaintanceship and subsequent rupture with the general. As Chichikov listened to the recital, and gradually realized that the affair had arisen merely out of a chance word on the general's part, he was astounded beyond measure, and gazed at Genchetnikov without knowing what to make of him. Andra Ivanovich, who said at length, what was there to take offence at? Nothing as regards the actual words spoken, replied the other. The offence lay rather in the insult conveyed in the general's tone. Genchetnikov was a kindly and peaceable man, yet his eyes flashed as he said this, and his voice vibrated with wounded feeling. Yet, even then, need you have taken it so much amiss? What, could I have gone on visiting him as before? Certainly no great harm had been done. I disagree with you. Had he been an old man in a humble station of life, instead of a proud and swaggering officer, I shouldn't have minded so much. But as it was, I could not and would not brook his words. A curious fellow, this Genchetnikov, thought Chichikov to himself. A curious fellow, this Chichikov, was Genchetnikov's inward reflection. I tell you what, regime Chichikov, tomorrow I myself will go and see the general. To what purpose, asked Genchetnikov, with astonishment and distrust in his eyes, to offer him an assurance of my personal respect. A strange fellow, this Chichikov, reflected Genchetnikov. A strange fellow, this Genchetnikov, thought Chichikov, and then added aloud. Yes, I will go and see him at ten o'clock tomorrow. But since my bridge-car is not yet altogether in travelling order, would you be so good as to lend me your Kalyoska for the purpose? And of Part Two, Chapter One. Nicolay Vasilyevich Gogol Translated by D. J. Hogarth Part Two, Chapter Two Read by Gesina Tiantyatnikov's Good Horses covered the ten versets to the general's house in a little over half an hour. Descending from the Kalyoska with features attuned to deference, Chichikov inquired for the master of the house, and was at once ushered into his presence. Bowing with head held respectfully on one side, and hands extended, like those of a waiter carrying a tray full of tea-cups, the visitor inclined his whole body forward and said, I have deemed it my duty to present myself to your Excellency. I have deemed it my duty, because in my heart I cherish a most profound respect for the valiant man who, on the field of battle, have proven the saviours of their country. That this preliminary attack did not wholly displease the general was proved by the fact that, responding with a gracious inclination of the head, he replied, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Pray be so good as to take a seat. In what capacity or capacities have you yourself seen service? Of my service, said Chichikov, depositing his form not exactly in the centre of the chair, but rather on one side of it, and resting a hand upon one of its arms. Of my service the scene was laid, in the first instance, in the treasury, while its further course bore me successively into the employ of the Public Buildings Commission, of the Customs Board, and of other government offices. But throughout my life has resembled a bark, tossed on the crests of perfidious billows. In suffering I have been swazed and wrapped until I have come to be, as it were, suffering personified, while of the extent to which my life has been sought by foes, no words, no colouring, no, if I may so express it, painter's brush, could ever convey to you an adequate idea. And now at length, in my declining years, I am seeking a corner in which to eke out the remainder of my miserable existence, while at the present moment I am enjoying the hospitality of a neighbour of your acquaintance. And who is that?  Upon that the general frowned. Let me add, put in Chichikov hastily, that he greatly regrets that on a former occasion he should have failed to show a proper respect for, for, for what? asked the general. For the services to the public which your Excellency has rendered. Indeed, he cannot find words to express his sorrow, but keeps repeating to himself, would that I had valued at their true worth, the men who have saved our fatherland? And why should he say that? Asked the modified general. I bear him no grudge. In fact, I have never cherished ought but a sincere liking for him, a sincere esteem, and do not doubt but that in time he may become a useful member of society. In the words which you have been good enough to utter, said Chichikov with a bow, there is embodied much justice. Yes, Tiantyatnikov is, in very truth, a man of worth. Not only does he possess the gift of eloquence, but also he is a master of the pen.  Verses or something of the kind. Not rubbish, your Excellency, but practical stuff. In short, he is indicting a history. A history? But a history of what? A history of, of, for a moment or two, Chichikov, hesitated.  Of generals? Of what generals? Of generals generally, of generals at large, that is to say, and to be more precise, a history of the generals of our Fatherland. By this time Chichikov was floundering badly. Mentally he spat upon himself and reflected, gracious heavens, what rubbish I am talking. Pardon me, went on his interlocutor, but I do not quite understand you. Is Tiantyatnikov producing a history of a given period, or only a history made up of a series of biographies? Also is he including all our generals, or only those who took part in the campaign of 1812? The latter, your Excellency, only the generals of 1812, replied Chichikov. Then he added beneath his breath. Were I to be killed for it, I could not say what that may be supposed to mean. Then why should he not come and see me in person? went on his host. Possibly I might be able to furnish him with much interesting material. He is afraid to come, your Excellency. Nonsense, just because of a hasty word or two. I am not that sort of man at all. In fact, I should be very happy to call upon him. Never would he permit that, your Excellency. He would greatly prefer to be the first to make advances. And Chichikov added to himself what a stroke of luck those generals were. Otherwise the Lord knows where my tongue might have landed me. At this moment the door into the adjoining room opened, and there appeared in the doorway a girl as fair as a ray of the sun. So fair indeed that Chichikov stared at her in amazement. Apparently she had come to speak to her father for a moment, but had stopped short on perceiving that there was someone with him. The only fault to be found in her appearance was the fact that she was too thin and fragile looking. May I introduce you to my little pet? said the general to Chichikov. To tell you the truth, I do not know your name. That you should be unacquainted with the name of one who has never distinguished himself in the manner of which you yourself can boast is scarcely to be wondered at. And Chichikov executed one of his side-long deferential bows. Well, I should be delighted to know it. It is poorly one of each Chichikov, your Excellency. With that went the easy bow of a military man and the agile backward movement of an India rubber ball. Yulinka, this is Paul Ivanovich, said the general, turning to his daughter. He has just told me some interesting news, namely that our neighbour Tiantyatnikov is not altogether the fool we had at first thought him. On the contrary, he is engaged upon a very important work, upon a history of the Russian generals of 1812. But who ever supposed him to be a fool? asked the girl quickly. What happened was that you took Vishnipokhromov's word, the word of a man who is himself both a fool and a good for nothing. Well, well, said the father, after further good-natured dispute on the subject of Vishnipokhromov. Do you now run away, for I wish to dress for luncheon? And you, sir? he added to Chichikov. Will you not join us at table?  Do you mind if I wash in your presence? asked the host. By no means, replied Chichikov, pray do whatsoever you please in that respect. Upon that the general fell to scrubbing himself, incidentally to sending soapsuds flying in every direction. Meanwhile he seemed so favorably disposed that Chichikov decided to sound him then and there, more especially since the butler had left the room. May I put to you a problem? he asked. Certainly, replied the general, what is it? It is this, your Excellency. I have a decrepit old uncle, who owns three hundred soles and two thousand roubles worth of other property. Also, except for myself, he possesses not a single heir. Now, although his infirm state of health will not permit of his managing his property in person, he will not allow me either to manage it. And the reason for his conduct, his very strange conduct, he states as follows. I do not know my nephew, and very likely he is a spendthrift. If he wishes to show me that he is good for anything, let him go and acquire as many soles as I have acquired, and when he has done that, I will transfer to him my three hundred soles as well. The man must be an absolute fool, commented the general. Possibly. And, without all, things would not be as bad as they are. But, unfortunately, my uncle has gone and taken up with his housekeeper, and has children by her. Consequently, everything will now pass to them. The old man must have taken leave of his senses, remarked the general. Yet how I can help, I fail to see. Well, I have thought of a plan. If you will hand me over all the dead soles on your estate, hand them over to me exactly as though they were still alive, and were purchasable property, I will offer them to the old man, and then he will leave me his fortune. At this point the general burst into a roar of laughter, such as few can ever have heard. Half-dressed, he subsided into a chair, threw back his head, and guffawed until he came near to choking. In fact, the house shook with his merriment, so much so that the butler and his daughter came running into the Roman alarm. It was long before he could produce a single articulate word, and even when he did so, to reassure his daughter and the butler, he kept momentarily relapsing into spluttering chuckles, which made the house ring and ring again. Chichikov was greatly taken aback. Oh, that uncle! bellowed the general in paroxysms of mirth. Oh, that blessed uncle!  Dead souls offered him instead of live ones. Oh, my goodness! I suppose I've put my foot in it again, roofily reflected Chichikov, but, good Lord, what a man the fellow is to laugh! Heaven send that he doesn't burst of it! Ha! ha! ha! broke out the general afresh.   You go and fit yourself out with three hundred souls, and I'll cap them with my own lot. My word!  A jackass? Your Excellency? Yes, indeed. And to think of the jest of putting him off with dead souls. What wouldn't I give to see you handing him the title Deeds? Who is he? What is he like? Is he very old? He is eighty, Your Excellency. But still brisk and able to move about, eh? Surely he must be pretty strong to go on living with his housekeeper like that. Yes, but what does such strength mean? Sand runs away, Your Excellency.  But is he really such a fool? Yes, Your Excellency. And does he go out at all? Does he see company? Can he still hold himself upright? Yes, but with great difficulty. And has he any teeth left? No more than two at the most. The old jackass.  Quite so, Your Excellency, and so it grieves me to have to confess that he is my uncle, what am I to do with him? Yet this was not altogether the truth. What would have been a far harder thing for Titchikov to have confessed was the fact that he possessed no uncles at all.  Why, in return for the jest, I will give you some land as well. Yes, you can take the hell graveyard, if you like. The old man.  And once more, the general's guffaws went ringings for the house. At this point, there is a long hiatus in the original. End of Part 2, Chapter 2. Recorded by Gazena in December 2007.


the life of the holy relationship. Do you want freedom of the body or of the mind? For both you cannot have. Which do you value? Which is your goal? For one you see as Me, the other end. And one must serve the other and lead to its predominance, increasing its importance by diminishing its own. The end is reached because the value of the means decreases. He clips entirely when they are recognized as functionless. No one but yearns for freedom and tries to find it. Yet he will seek for it where he believes it is and can be found. He will believe it possible as mind or body and he will make the other serve his choice as means to find it. The whole purpose of the world was made up was for the mind to run away from the pure Epsilon and run into the concrete into the specific with form to forget, dissociate from the light. And to even forget about the mind. Because I know when I was growing up you know there was all this stuff about you know you talk about concrete in the form but there wasn't a lot of discussion of mind or it was one of those real hazy vague kind of things. You even talk about mind or thoughts or anything like this and it's like what do you value and which where do you want your freedom?  Whichever one you decide where the freedom is then you'll pursue. Look at life I mean look at my whole life and it's like that's in a sense that's what I was doing sleeping in a sense of all of the you know all the years in college all the education we do all of the skills and abilities we learn with our mind intelligence and everything if if that's seen as the means and the end is the body you know to buy bigger better things for it to shelter it in better ways to provide more convenience for it more comforts that and that and that and it's obviously the mind is like the means and it's being worked which do you want you know if you want to have a free mind you want to have a free and open mind to do so you've got to have let the body do nothing section and the first paragraph is the one that says you still have too much faith in the body as a source of strength what plans do you make that do not involve its comfort or protection or enjoyment in some way this makes the body an end and not a means in your interpretation and this always means you still find sin attractive no one accepts the term for himself is still except sin is his goal so it's like I mean that's a that's almost like a companion paragraph so the one we just read I'm perceiving the body as long as I'm perceiving it the body is the end misperceiving the sense sin still attractive in that sense it could seem kind of like I could seem a pretty big stretch like why why is it seem that if I see my body as an end that I find sin attractive how does that connect you know where does this stuff come in you know and this stuff it's um I think because another paragraph's come to mind it helps try to start to bring that connection back it's way back at the back of case 32 in the manual so we're trying to make the connection like well what's the big deal about making the body the end and the attraction of still finding sin attractive you know how is how is that sin and what he's doing in a very specific specific on of this world where the body is the focal sacred paragraph starts out it takes greatly what can the sacrifice and nothing mean it cannot mean that you have less because of it and here's where he starts to zone in a bit there is no sacrifice in the world's terms it does not involve the body think a while about what the world calls sacrifice power fame money physical pleasure who is the quote hero to whom all these things belong could they mean anything except to a body physical pleasure they're all very rooted in the body that's what all the striving about is trying to to get ahead you know trying to move up the totem pole trying to get more than the next person where the body is representing a separate self yeah which is what it that yeah even if you couldn't see that you know it may not be an enhancement for the body you know specifically but a lot of times i think we try to enhance our image you know the separate self image which the body represents so that ties in with the body the sense intelligence you could throw that into it a sense that that's more of a mental kind of thing but it's tied into that self image yeah our body when it's strutting around trying to figure out who's better yeah there's lots of relate to that and a sense you know he's kidding he's using this to get at that meaning of sacrifice of i remember this year i was watching the uh before the elections maybe the last year i guess so they had the democratic national convention and they have all the speeches and there was a lot of that we must sacrifice for our children and for future generations you know in many ways you know it's just noticing all the ways to sacrifice but there's a good benefit to sacrifice when i listened to the speeches it still had to do with better money better job points could they mean anything except to a body yet a body cannot evaluate the body in the brain because basically the the body in the world is just a it's like a learning device all it does is it responds to the intentions of the mind bodies don't judge bodies don't evaluate bodies don't even learn they don't you know they don't even react in the sense that they're told to react to the mind now we're shifting to the mind part though by seeking after such things the mind associates itself with the body obscuring its identity and losing sight of what it really is so that's our key sentence right there that that's why um making the body an end that's why sin is attractive because once again the natural condition of the mind and the true identity is pure spirit and it's purely abstract there's no form connected with it at all so once it starts associating with the body and with form and with the finite then obviously it's starting to seek outside of itself obviously it's it's saying that it believes that his has thrown away its its eternal home so to speak or its eternal identity and it's going to going to cling on to and and attach on to this finite kind of a thing that uh pretty gets it what happens once this confusion has occurred it becomes impossible for the mind to understand that all the pleasures of the world are nothing but what a sacrifice and it is sacrifice indeed all this entails now has the mind condemned itself to seek without finding to be forever dissatisfied and discontented to know not what it really wants to find this profound confusion it's just like completely turned around and twisted because it's it's um it's identified with the mind is used as means whose value lies in its ability to contrive ways to achieve the body's freedom yet freedom of the body has no meaning and so the mind is dedicated to serve illusions this is a situation so contradictory and so impossible that anyone who chooses this has no idea of what is valuable yet even in this confusion so profound it cannot be described the holy spirit waits in gentle patience as certain of the outcome as he is sure of his creator's love he knows this mad decision was made by one as dear to his creator as love is to itself he's a comfort he senses because that i mean who who has not experienced what he's talking about he's personally that's that's been our life too to do and it's kind of like it's backwards and now he's telling us that it's backwards what he's telling us that's holy spirit's in your mind saying but he's this great patient disturbed at all to think how he can change the role of beings and then so easily in what god loves and would have free forever but be you rather grateful that you can be the means to serve his end this is the only service that leads to freedom to serve this end the body must be perceived as sinless because gold is sinlessness contradiction makes the soft transition from means to an as easy as is the shift from hate to gratitude before forgiving us you will be sanctified by one another using your bodies only to serve the sinless and it will be impossible for you to hate what serves you would heal that's what to me the value of the course is that there's there's just many forms of attack that are not forms of attack that's where the mind is to see state i mean it doesn't even know what are the what are the forms of attack and what the course starts to do is through the special level relationship sections and and various different sections in here it starts to say you don't know all the forms of attack but if you if you can get clear on that then you can withdraw your mind from that you know you can it's nice to say you can stop attacking yourself but until you kill yourself yeah what a nasty idea until you get clear on this how about this when the body ceases to attract you and when you place no value on it as a means of getting anything then there will be no interference in communication your thoughts will be as free as god's yeah the paragraph that way in a paragraph right before it on the previous page it begins with in the holy instant which is a few paragraphs in the holy is where the great rays replace the body and awareness the recognition of relationships without limits is given so you're talking about relationships without limits but in order to see this it is necessary to give up every use the ego has for the body and to accept the fact that the ego has no purpose you would share with it for the ego would limit everyone to a body for its own purposes and while you think it has a purpose you will choose to utilize the means by which it tries to turn its purpose into accomplishment this will never be accomplished yet you have surely recognized that the ego whose goals are altogether unattainable will strive for them with all its might and will do so with the strength that you have given it it's just like just slowly getting more accustomed to that sense of mind that abstractness that that uh there's a part of this restriction


Hey, what do you do for work? Who me? Oh, I'm a project manager. Oh, what type of projects? Different ones. Different ones? Yesterday dad gave me a huge one. I dished it out like Gordon Ramsay. Did you say dad? No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure that you said your dad. Dadson McGabriel was his name. Does your dad own the company and you're his project manager? Kenban charts. They call me the Kenban man at work.


Today in the Our Ambassador series, we're joined by Australia's ambassador to the Netherlands, Neil Mules. Good morning, Neil. It's a great pleasure to be here. Thank you. Neil, of course, there's a long historical connection between Australia and the Netherlands, but how does that resonate today? Yes. Well, many people don't realise that the Dutch were the first to land in any numbers on Australian territory and we celebrated back in 2006, 400 years since the first Dutch ship landed in Australia, the Deufken up in Cape York. In 1616, Dirk Hartog, the Dutch navigator, landed on the coast of Western Australia, the first of many Dutch ships that reached the West Australian coast. So we'll have a big celebration also in the next few years for 400 years since that happened. There is this very rich tapestry of historical connection. The Dutch were obviously the first Europeans and as many schoolchildren will know, the western half of Australia was called New Holland for the first few hundred years of European contact. Since then, there's been a continuation of that. Other Dutch navigators have left their mark, names like Cape Lewin, Rotnest Island and even Tasmania and the Tasman Sea of course, named after Abel Tasman, the famous Dutch navigator. That contact dropped off a little bit because the Dutch didn't stay and the British came to the other side of the country, but following the Second World War, the waves of Dutch migration that came to Australia I suppose was the next big Dutch contact, Dutch impact in Australia. We had hundreds of thousands of Dutch people arrive in Australia and they've made an extraordinary contribution to our country. So there is this backdrop of historical connection and friendship between us. And so then looking beyond the historical relationship, how would you characterize the contemporary relationship between Australia and the Netherlands? Sort of laid over that historical backdrop we have a situation today in which the Netherlands and Australia basically share a global outlook and very similar values and the way we see the world is very similar. So we've been able to build an extraordinarily strong bilateral relationship on a historical foundation. Most recently we saw that in evidence where Australia and the Netherlands work together in Afghanistan to militaries work together to provide security in Oruzgun Province as a result of that. The Dutch military has the highest regard for Australia and the Australian military. But more broadly this connection we have enables us to talk to the Dutch, compare notes and share approaches across a whole range of international issues whether it's very sensitive, high-profile foreign policy matters like counter-terrorism for example, UN reform. The Dutch are prominent members of the EU and have a close friend in the Councils of the EU. But also in lighter areas, in cultural relations for example, the Great Dutch Orchestra, the Concertgebouw as part of its 125th anniversary celebrations will visit Australia this year for the first time. And apart from musicians I guess I think the most recent stats we have are from 2011 where 160,000 Dutch visited Australia, whether they're backpackers or businessmen. They stay longer than most visitors and they learn a lot about Australia. The Dutch know and like Australia very much. I think the Dutch know more about contemporary Aboriginal art for example than anybody else in Europe and perhaps more than many Australians. So we have a very solid bilateral relationship at every level. Of course Australians are already quite familiar with a number of Dutch companies through their interaction and investments in Australia. Can you tell us a little bit about the commercial and investment relationship between the two countries? Absolutely and of course the economic relationship is always one of the major pillars of any serious bilateral relationship. The Netherlands is an important economic power in the world. If you just took the world's biggest economies it would come in in the top 20 somewhere. And so it's very important for us to work together with the Dutch on broad economic matters. At a bilateral level we have a healthy trading relationship about $5 billion a year. It suffered a little bit from the global financial crisis but it's bounced back. But the highlight story on economic relations between our countries is in the area of investment. The Netherlands is the fourth biggest foreign direct investor in Australia. As you mentioned there are household names that we all know. Shell Phillips which are big investors in Australia. Other big investors the financial institutions, ING, the rubber bank. So almost all of the important global players in the Dutch economy are present in Australia and we take full advantage of that. In the other direction Australians are investing more and more in the Netherlands as well. And I think it's now about the ninth biggest destination for Australian foreign direct investment. So across the board on the economic front things are healthy with potential for being even greater in the future. And of course the Hague is probably best known to most Australians as an international legal centre. Can you tell us about how important that is and a little bit about your role there? Absolutely and as I've been talking about the bilateral relationship but the truth is that probably more than half my time as ambassador in the Netherlands is spent on the international organisations based in the Netherlands. That starts with the organisation for the prevention of chemical weapons which is the international body that oversees the implementation of the chemical weapons convention. Australia was very important in the foundation of that organisation. We remain very active in it. Australians by and large don't know very much about this these days but it's important to recognise the importance of the OPCW. The chemical weapons convention is the only international disarmament agreement which has all but achieved the elimination of an entire category of weapons of mass destruction, chemical weapons. So very important we stay engaged with them. You mentioned the courts which is the other big international feature of the job and they range from the country specific tribunals such as the Yugoslavia and Lebanon tribunal. We've been very active in the Yugoslav tribunal historically and as it winds up we will continue to be but also that includes the international criminal court. This is a very interesting and challenging development in the world's international legal system. For the first time we have established an organisation which has as it's name a global coverage of the world and an ability to bring to justice the perpetrators of war crimes and crimes against humanity. Australia is very active in that organisation. We're working very hard towards helping improve the governance of that court as it enters its only second decade in existence. I suppose the court that most people would be familiar with in The Hague is the International Court of Justice which is the UN body which looks at disputes between states. Australia again has had quite a lot to do with the ICJ over its history and most people will know that we currently have a case in the ICJ that's our case against Japan on whaling in the Southern Ocean. That's going to keep the Embassy extremely busy during the course of this year. The oral hearings in the court should happen in the middle of the year and so we're in very close touch with the court on an almost daily basis in preparations for that and that'll keep me and my colleagues busy. So you see there's more than enough for us to do in the international organisations in The Hague. Thanks very much Neil. It's been great thank you. And that was Neil Mules, Australia's Ambassador to the Netherlands.