Lev nikolaevich tolstoy. Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy Chapter XXXV
Several times in the course of this story, I have hinted at a concept corresponding to this French title, and now I feel the need to devote an entire chapter to this concept, which in my life was one of the most harmful, false concepts instilled in me by education and society. The human race can be divided into many departments - the rich and the poor, the good and the evil, the military and the civilian, the smart and the stupid, etc., etc., but each person certainly has his own favorite main division, under which he unconsciously brings each new face. My favorite and main division of people at the time that I am writing about was comme il faut people and comme il ne faut pas people. The second genus was still subdivided into people actually not comme il faut and the common people. I respected people comme il faut and considered them worthy to have an equal relationship with me; the second - I pretended to despise, but, in fact, hated them, feeding them some kind of offended sense of personality; still others did not exist for me - I despised them completely. My comme il faut consisted, first and foremost, in excellent French and especially in accent. A man who spoke bad French immediately aroused a feeling of hatred in me. "Why do you want to talk like we do when you don't know how?" - I asked him mentally with venomous mockery. The second condition comme il faut was nails — long, peeled and clean; the third was the ability to bow, dance and talk; fourth, and very important, was indifference to everything and a constant expression of a certain graceful, contemptuous boredom. In addition, I had common features by which I, without speaking to a person, decided to which category he belongs. The main of these signs, besides the decoration of the room, the seal, the handwriting, the carriage, were the legs. The attitude of boots to pantaloons immediately decided in my eyes the position of a person. Boots without a heel with an angular toe and the ends of the pantaloons are narrow, without strips - this was plain; boots with a narrow round toe and a heel and narrow pantaloons at the bottom, with strips that fit the leg, or wide, with strips like a canopy standing over the toe - this was a man of the mauvais genre, etc. The strange thing is that to me, who had a positive incapacity for comme il faut, this concept had taken root to such an extent. Or maybe it was precisely this that has grown into me so strongly because it cost me a great deal of work to acquire this comme il faut. It’s scary to remember how much invaluable, the best time in my life of 16 years I spent on acquiring this quality. Everyone whom I imitated - Volodya, Dubkov and most of my acquaintances - all this seemed to come easily. I looked at them with envy and secretly worked on the French language, on the science of bowing, without looking at the one to whom you bow, on conversation, dancing, on developing indifference and boredom in myself, on the nails on which I cut my meat with scissors - and yet I felt that I still had a lot of work left to achieve my goal. And the room, the writing-table, the carriage - all this I did not know how to arrange so that it was comme il faut, although, despite my disgust for practical matters, I intensified to do it. For others, it seemed, everything went well without any work, as if it could not be otherwise. I remember once, after hard and vain work on the nails, I asked Dubkov, whose nails were surprisingly good, how long have they been with him and how did he do it? Dubkov answered me: "Since I can remember, I have never done anything to make them look like this, I don't understand how a decent person can have other nails." This answer saddened me greatly. I did not yet know that one of the main conditions comme il faut was secrecy in relation to the works by which comme il faut is achieved. Comme il faut was for me not only an important merit, a wonderful quality, perfection that I wanted to achieve, but it was a necessary condition of life, without which there could be no happiness, no fame, nothing good in the world. I would not have respected a famous artist, or a scientist, or a benefactor of the human race, if he were not comme il faut. The man comme il faut stood above and beyond comparison with them; he left them to paint pictures, sheet music, books, to do good - he even praised them for this, why not praise the good, whoever it may be - but he could not become with them on the same level, he was comme il faut, but they are not, and that's enough. It even seems to me that if we had a brother, mother or father who were not comme il faut, I would say that this is a misfortune, but that there can be nothing in common between me and them. But neither the loss of the golden time spent on constant concern for the observance of all conditions comme il faut that are difficult for me, excluding any serious infatuation, nor hatred and contempt for the nine-tenths of the human race, nor the lack of attention to everything beautiful that is taking place outside the circle comme il faut, - all this was still not the main evil that this concept caused me. The main evil was the conviction that comme il faut is an independent position in society, that a person does not need to try to be neither an official, nor a coachman, nor a soldier, nor a scientist when he comme il faut; that, having reached this position, he already fulfills his purpose and even becomes higher than most of the people. At a certain period of youth, after many mistakes and hobbies, each person usually becomes in need of active participation in social life, chooses some branch of labor and devotes himself to it; but with comme il faut this rarely happens. I knew and know very, very many people, old, proud, self-confident, harsh in their judgments, who, when asked if they ask such a question in the next world: “Who are you? and what did you do there? " - will not be able to answer otherwise than: "Je fus un homme très comme il faut"Chapter I. What I consider the beginning of youth
Nikolai Irtenev values \u200b\u200bhis friendship with Dmitry very much. Thanks to this person, Irtenev was able to see some things in a different light. Communication with Dmitry became the reason that Nikolai "got infected" with the idea of \u200b\u200bself-development.
The influence of Nekhlyudov on Irtenev was so great that Nikolai reverently in a whisper calls him "the wonderful Mitya."
Over time, Nikolai realized that he wasted a lot of time, at a time when he could use it for self-improvement. From that moment, according to the protagonist, the period of his youth began. By that time, Nikolai was 16, and he had already begun to prepare for entering the university.
Nikolai became very picky about himself and notes with sadness that his appearance does not bear the traits of nobility. In general, he looks more like a "man".
Chapter II. Spring
Spring came into its own. This period was especially significant in the life of the hero, because this period was the most intensive stage of preparation for the entrance exams. Nikolai admires the arrival of spring. In his opinion, the arrival of spring in the city is felt much stronger.
Chapter III. Dreams
Nikolai plans to start life from a new leaf - after confession he will become an impeccable person: he will observe all the dogmas of Christianity, give a tenth of his scholarship to a poor old woman or an orphan, so that no one knows that he is doing this; he will go to classes on foot, and if he is given the reins, he will sell and spend the proceeds on charity. He will become the most famous scientist and will come to Vorobyovy Gory to spend time there alone.
Chapter IV. Our family circle
Nikolai's father is often absent from home. In the same cases, when the father appears, fun begins to reign in the house - the father knows how to come up with all sorts of jokes and say them with the most serious face. It amuses everyone. The family, out of habit, still gathers together for lunch, but cohesion, as it was with mom or grandmother, does not happen.
Governess Mimi at dinner does not know how to bring up an interesting topic of conversation. Nikolai's older brother, Volodya, is increasingly moving away from his brother - the age difference has become very noticeable and Volodya now has other interests. Nikolai's sister, Lyubochka, has already matured, as, incidentally, has the governess's daughter Katya and they are now girls of marriageable age.
Chapter V. Rules
Nikolai decided to draw up a table for himself that would contain the rules of his life. During the work it turned out that this is a very voluminous material, and therefore Irtenev made a whole notebook with the title "Rules of Life". At the invitation of his father, an old monk came to the Irtenevs' house to confess all the household members.
Chapter VI. Confession
The monk begins to conduct confession. Papa was the first to go to confession, Lyubochka was the second, then Katya, and only after Katya did Nikolai go. He stayed in the room with the monk for about five minutes, but after that he came out happy and elated.
In the evening, before going to bed, he remembered that he had forgotten to tell the monk in confession about one of his sin and was very frightened, because hiding his sins in confession was considered a great sin.
Nikolai was very worried about this, but then he calmed himself with the thought that he would go to the monastery in the morning and correct what he had done. Calmed down, Nikolai falls asleep.
Chapter VII. Trip to the monastery
Nikolai often woke up at night, because he was afraid to oversleep. At six o'clock, he had finally woken up and started packing: he had to put on uncleaned boots, because the servant Nikolai had not yet had time to clean them. When Irtenev left the house, he saw that the street was practically empty - with difficulty he managed to find a cab. At first, Nikolai was worried that he would rob him, but then he calmed down. The arrival of Nicholas created a stir in the monastery - the monks watched him with interest. Irtenev was taken to a room and asked to wait for the monk.
Chapter VIII. Second confession
Chapter IX. How do I prepare for the exam
Nikolay continues to prepare for exams, but he succeeds with difficulty. Irtenev is now and then distracted by various trifles. It seems to him that there is a special smell of spring in the air, which prevents him from concentrating. However, the teachers do not let him relax. Moreover, Nikolai cannot disappoint Nekhlyudov - according to his friend, passing the exam well is a necessary action.
Chapter X. The History Exam
Nikolai's first exam was to take place on April 16. The young man was very worried - for the first time in his life he passed the exam and for the first time put on a tailcoat. Nikolai felt inspired: it seemed to him that he looked brilliant, that was exactly until the moment he entered the audience. Nikolai came across a familiar ticket, and he answered the question well. As a result, Irtenev passed the story to "5".
Chapter XI. Exam mathematics
The next exam was in mathematics. Handing over it, Irtenev did not have time to sort out two issues and this depressed him.
At the university, Nikolai saw his brother Volodya and friend Dmitry. Dmitry managed to explain to Nikolai one of the problematic issues - it was dedicated to Newton's binomial, there was not enough time to explain the second question.
According to the law of meanness, Nikolai came across a ticket that he did not know. However, he was rescued by an acquaintance - Ikonin, who usually did not answer the extended tickets and silently put them on the table in front of the examiners.
He gave Nikolai his ticket - it was a question about Newton's binomial. Nikolay answered the question perfectly and got a "5".
Chapter XII. Latin exam
Nikolay had heard that the professor taking the Latin exam is very strict and, it seems, he likes to give bad marks to applicants. Nikolai was still taking the exams in company with Ikonin, who, as always, began the answer first. This time he was not silent, as usual, and even translated a little text, albeit with the help of the professor, but he could not give an answer to the theoretical question. Irtenev calmed down and smiled, the professor did not like this very much, who, instead of a friendly smile, considered contempt. He provided an opportunity to answer Irtenev instead of Ikonin.
When it came to Nikolai's turn to be examined, the professor was very rude, gave him a very difficult text and as a result put "2", while Ikonin received "4" for the exam. For the first time, Irtenev faced a prejudiced attitude and was so amazed that he passed the rest of the exams without enthusiasm.
Chapter XIII. I'm big
Finally, Nikolai passed the last exam and was successfully enrolled in the student list. He was offended that Volodya did not congratulate him. Despite everything, Nikolai, like his brother, bought a pipe, tobacco and gouache drawing, as well as a pencil insert. At home, he determined that he did not like any of the purchases, and when smoking he became completely ill.
Chapter XIV. What did Volodya and Dubkov do
Nikolai and Dmitry go first to Dubkov - where they find Volodya and his friend playing cards. Volodya loses and the whole company goes to the restaurant to celebrate Nikolai's arrival.
Chapter XV. I am congratulated
Everyone in the restaurant congratulated Nikolai. In general, everyone was happy, although brother Volodya now and then blushed because of the behavior of Nikolai, who often said or did something out of place. From the champagne he had drunk, Nikolai was dizzy, and when he got up, he realized that his body seemed to be living a separate life.
Chapter XVI. Quarrel
At the restaurant, Nikolai quarreled with one of the visitors - a certain Kolpikov. Irtenev's friends were not present at that moment. The awkwardness of the situation after the incident became the reason that Nikolai hid the incident, although he experienced a long time. Irtenev poured out overwhelming anger from a quarrel on innocent Dubkov, after which he felt awkward.
Chapter XVII. I'm going to make visits
On the last day of his stay in Moscow, Nikolai, by order of his father, is going to pay visits to some people, in particular to Prince Ivan Ivanovich, Ivin. Irtenev hopes that Volodya will keep him company, but he refuses.
Chapter XVIII. Valakhins
Nikolai was the first to visit the Valakhins - they lived nearby. Irtenev was in agitation - he had previously been in love with Sonechka. Nikolai heard rumors that during her stay abroad the stagecoach in which she was turned over, and the girl's face was cut by shards of glass. However, when Nikolai met in person, he did not notice any scars on his face - Sonia seemed to him all the same sweet girl as in childhood.
Chapter XIX. Kornakov
The visit to the Kornakovs was not so pleasant for Nikolenka - at first he was entertained by the daughters of the Kornakovs, then the princess and Prince Mikhailo joined the conversation - the princess now and then claimed that Nikolai was very similar to his mother, although this was not true. Nikolai learned that the Kornakovs and Irtenevs are the only heirs of Ivan Ivanovich.
Chapter XX. Ivin
The reception at the Ivins' turned out to be difficult and unpleasant - the general's son was not at all happy about his arrival, and only withstood the etiquette politeness, the princess burst into tears, and the prince behaved as if Nicholas was not at all in their house.
Chapter XXI. Prince Ivan Ivanovich
Nikolay makes his last visit to Ivan Ivanovich, after the news that the Irtenevs are the heirs of the prince, this visit became doubly unpleasant and exciting.
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The prince gave Nikolai a pleasant welcome, but Irtenev decided that the prince actually hated him, because Nikolai was one of the contenders for his fortune.
Chapter XXII. Sincere conversation with my friend
Together with Dmitry, Nikolai goes to the dacha in Nekhlyudov. He learns that Dmitry is in love with a certain friend, Lyubov Sergeevna.
Chapter XXIII. Nekhlyudov
At the dacha, Nikolai met Marya Ivanovna - Dmitry's mother and his sister Varya. He also saw Lyubov Sergeevna - she struck Irtenev most of all. The woman seemed to Nikolai surprisingly ugly, and Irtenev wondered in amazement how Dmitry could fall in love with her.
Chapter XXIV. Love
At the Nekhlyudovs, Nikolai also met Dmitry's aunt, Sofia Ivanovna. Nikolai was surprised that this woman has true love for all family members.
Chapter XXV. I am getting acquainted
Nikolai learns that the family does not approve of Dmitry's love for Lyubov Sergeevna - this becomes the cause of disputes. Irtenev liked the Nekhlyudovs very much - he felt like an adult here, not a child.
Chapter XXVI. I show myself from the most advantageous side
The Nekhlyudovs go for a walk in the garden. Nikolai keeps them company. He could not resist the opportunity to boast of his relationship with Ivan Ivanovich. During the walk, Nikolai once again notes the unattractiveness of Dmitry's sister.
Chapter XXVII. Dmitry
By evening, Dmitry had a terrible toothache. Because of this, he was in a bad mood and first yelled at the maid and then punched him twice on the head of the servant boy. However, he was immediately ashamed of this act, which was witnessed by Nikolai. After that the friends talked all night.
Chapter XXVIII. In the village
Nikolai and Volodya set off for the village. On the way, Nikolai decided that he should seem sad for the first two days, but he barely succeeded. He only remembered his love in the evenings, and soon completely forgot about it. Father talked a lot with Nikolai on the first morning and was unusually cheerful.
Chapter XXIX. The relationship between us and girls
Nikolai again draws closer in communication with Volodya and, on the contrary, separates from Katya and Lyuba. Girls seem to him stupid and cutesy. Nikolai does not understand why they have changed so much and, moreover, do not see anything wrong with these changes.
Chapter XXX. My classes
Nikolai studied the piano all summer and achieved significant achievements. In his free time, he read French novels brought by Volodya. Having read in one of them, about a hero with thick eyebrows and deciding to make himself the same - he rubbed his eyebrows with gunpowder and set them on fire. Nikolai's eyebrows became really thicker, but by that time he had already forgotten about this hero.
Chapter XXXI. Сomme il faut
Nikolenka reflects on the attributes and details that make a person stand out from the crowd. He wants to be a man of impeccable appearance. Nikolai is especially saddened by the condition of his nails. Over time, Irtenev realizes how wrong he was in attaching himself to these external attributes.
Chapter XXXII. Youth
Nikolai enjoys summer and rest: he often walks, reads novels and admires nature. The hero of the story feels happy.
Chapter XXXIII. Neighbors
Nikolai is surprised by the change in his father's attitude towards their neighbors. Previously, the Irtenevs were hostile to the Epifanovs, but now everything has changed: their father often visits them and calls them "glorious people." Nikolai did not like these people.
Chapter XXXIV. Father's marriage
The second marriage of his father took place when he was 48. Avdotya Vasilievna Epifanova became his wife. In the summer, my father often went to visit the Epifanovs, at a time when there was practically no communication between families. On the last day before the departure of Volodya and Nicholas, the father officially announced his desire to marry Epifanova.
Chapter XXXV. How We Received This News
Households all vividly discussed the marriage of his father. Volodya took the news of the upcoming event very negatively, he spoke extremely disapprovingly of the future stepmother and told Nikolai that some dark story was the reason for this wedding. Volodya also spoke about the love of his father and Mimi.
Chapter XXXVI. University
Volodya and Nikolai leave for the university and therefore are not present at their father's wedding, which took place two weeks after their departure. At the university, Nikolai behaves arrogantly, which repels all potential acquaintances from himself.
Chapter XXXVII. Heart affairs
Nikolai was very amorous - he now and then fell in love with someone. Sometimes they were married women completely unknown to him. However, all his hobbies were fleeting.
Chapter XXXVIII. Shine
Nikolenka is very upset that he is not invited to the balls. He secretly envies his brother and father, who are frequent guests at such events. In winter, the desired thing finally happened - the Kornakovs invite him to the ball.
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Volodya helps Nikolai choose the right outfit and put his appearance in order. However, at the ball, Nikalay gets lost and behaves extremely stupidly - he speaks such nonsense that even Volodya avoids him.
Chapter XXXIX. Binge
In winter, another event happened - Nicholas was summoned to a revelry. Since the young man had never been to carousing, it seemed to him that this occupation was something unusual and fun. He diligently prepared for this event. The event itself did not impress him - everyone pretended that they were having fun, although in reality it was not so. After the binge, its participant haughtily exaggerated the scale of the binge and extolled him in every possible way, which surprised Irtenev a lot.
Chapter XL. Friendship with the Nekhlyudovs
Nikolai became a frequent visitor to the Nekhlyudovs. He enjoyed spending time with them, as he felt at home there. During this time, Irtenev learned that Varya is a pretty smart girl and there is something to talk about with her.
Chapter XLI. Friendship with Nekhlyudov
While Nikolai's relations with Nekhlyudov's family were excellent, friendship with Dmitry himself "hung by a thread" - Nikolai could not understand some of his friend's actions. One of these was friendship with Bezobedov - a poor, stupid and ugly person. Over time, Nikolai began to find many flaws in his friend and even quarreled with him.
Chapter XLII. Stepmother
Nikolai's relationship with his stepmother did not improve. After she and her father arrived in Moscow in the fall, the hostility only intensified. 
A woman appeared at home in a petticoat, or with clothes with open arms, at first Nikolai liked this state of affairs, but then it began to annoy him - it seemed that two different women live in Avdotya - one for guests - well-groomed and cheerful, the other for ordinary life - dissatisfied and grumpy.
Chapter XLIII. New comrades
The time of the exams approached, and Nikolai realized with horror that he knew nothing. Operov came to his aid, he invited Nikolai to prepare together. Soon Irtenev met other young men, poor but interesting people. Nikolai inattentively listened to the material, was often distracted and dreamed, instead of listening, so his affairs in preparation for the exams did not advance. He learned that he was inferior in everything (except for belonging to the aristocracy) to these new acquaintances, and this upset him.
Chapter XLIV. Zukhin and Semenov
Among the new acquaintances of Nikolai, Zukhin and Semyonov stood out. Zukhin was not a wealthy man of 18 years old, the study was very easy, and the teachers had a very good opinion of him and loved him. Semenov was a lover of revelry, as a result, he collected debts and went to the soldiers to pay them off.
Chapter XLV. I'm falling through
Nikolai came to the mathematics exam unprepared, and he did not even care. Accordingly, he could not answer the questions of the ticket and therefore the professor announced to him that he would not be transferred further. Nikolai sobbed for three days like a child, in all attempts to support from friends or relatives he saw sarcasm, it seemed to him that everyone was dismissive of him. Nikolai remembered his "Rules of Life", he felt ashamed that he did not adhere to them. Nikolai decided to write new "Rules", but this time to adhere to them exactly.
WHAT I THINK THE BEGINNING OF YOUTH
I said that my friendship with Dmitry opened me a new outlook on life, its purpose and relationship. The essence of this view consisted in the conviction that the purpose of man is the striving for moral improvement and that this improvement is easy, possible and eternal. But until now I have enjoyed only the discovery of new thoughts arising from this conviction, and the drawing up of brilliant plans for a moral, active future; but my life went on in the same petty, confused and idle order.
Those virtuous thoughts that we went over in conversations with my adored friend Dmitry, the wonderful Mitya, as I myself sometimes called him in a whisper, still pleased only my mind, not my feelings. But the time came when these thoughts with such a fresh force of moral discovery came into my head that I got scared, thinking about how much time I had lost in vain, and immediately, the very second, I wanted to apply these thoughts to life, with a firm intention never no longer cheat on them.
And from that time on, I consider the beginning of youth.
At that time I was at the end of my sixteenth year. The teachers continued to visit me, St.-Jérôme looked after my teachings, and I reluctantly and reluctantly prepared for university. Outside of the doctrine, my classes consisted in solitary incoherent dreams and reflections, in doing gymnastics in order to become the first strongman in the world, wearing a hat without any specific purpose and thought throughout all the rooms and especially the girl's corridor and looking at myself in the mirror, from which, however, I always walked away with a heavy feeling of despondency and even disgust. My appearance, I was convinced, was not only ugly, but I could not even console myself with ordinary consolations in such cases. I could not say that I have an expressive, intelligent or noble face. There was nothing expressive — the most ordinary, coarse and bad features; small, gray eyes, especially when I looked in the mirror, were rather stupid than smart. There was even less courage: despite the fact that I was not small in stature and very strong in my years, all the features of my face were soft, sluggish, indefinite. There was nothing even noble; on the contrary, my face was the same as that of a common peasant, and the same large legs and arms; and this at that time seemed to me very ashamed.
Chapter II
SPRING
That year, as I entered the university, Saint was somehow late in April, so exams were scheduled for Fomina, and on Passionate I had to fast and prepare for the final.
The weather, after the wet snow, which Karl Ivanovich used to call "the son came for his father," had been calm, warm and clear for three days. There was no patch of snow to be seen in the streets; the dirty dough was replaced by the wet, shiny pavement and fast streams. The last drops were already melting from the rooftops in the sun, buds were puffing up on the trees in the front garden, there was a dry path to the stable past a frozen heap of dung, and mossy grass was green between the stones near the porch. There was that special period of spring, which has the strongest effect on the human soul: the bright, shining on everything, but not hot sun, streams and thawed patches, fragrant freshness in the air and a soft blue sky with long, transparent clouds. I do not know why, but it seems to me that in a big city the influence of this first period of the birth of spring is even more tangible and stronger on the soul - you see less, but more anticipate. I stood by the window, through which the morning sun through the double frames was throwing dusty rays on the floor of my unbearably boring classroom, and I was solving a long algebraic equation on a black board. In one hand I was holding Franker's torn soft Algebra, in the other a small piece of chalk, which had already stained both hands, face and elbows of the half-coat. Nikolai, in an apron, with his sleeves rolled up, was beating off the putty with pliers and bending back the nails of the window that opened into the front garden. His occupation and the knocking he made entertained my attention. Moreover, I was in a very bad, dissatisfied frame of mind. Somehow I didn't succeed: I made a mistake at the beginning of the calculation, so I had to start all over again; I dropped the chalk twice, felt that my face and hands were stained, the sponge had disappeared somewhere, the knock that Nikolai made somehow painfully shook my nerves. I wanted to get angry and grumble; I threw away the chalk, "Algebra" and began to pace the room. But I remembered that today is the Passionate middle, today we must confess and that we must refrain from everything bad; and suddenly I came to some special, meek state of mind and went up to Nikolai.
“Let me help you, Nikolai,” I said, trying to give my voice the most meek expression; and the thought that I was doing well, suppressing my annoyance and helping him, further strengthened this gentle mood of spirit in me.
The putty was repulsed, the nails were bent back, but despite the fact that Nikolai pulled the crossbars with all his might, the frame did not move.
“If the frame comes out now immediately, when I pull with it,” I thought, “then it’s a sin, and we don’t need to do more work today.” The frame leaned to one side and went out.
- Where can I take her? - I said.
- Excuse me, I'll manage it myself, - Nikolay answered, apparently surprised and, it seems, dissatisfied with my diligence, - we must not confuse, otherwise there, in the closet, I have them up to numbers.
“I'll notice her,” I said, lifting the frame.
It seems to me that if the closet was two miles away and the frame weighed twice as much, I would be very pleased. I wanted to be exhausted by rendering this service to Nikolai. When I returned to the room, the bricks and salt pyramids had already been placed on the windowsill and Nikolai was sweeping the sand and sleepy flies out of the open window with his wing. The fresh odorous air had already entered the room and filled it. The city noise and the chirping of sparrows in the front garden could be heard from the window.
All the objects were brightly lit, the room became more cheerful, a light spring breeze stirred the sheets of my "Algebra" and the hair on Nikolai's head. I went to the window, sat on it, bent over into the front garden and thought.
Something new to me, extremely strong and pleasant feeling suddenly penetrated into my soul. Wet ground, along which bright green needles of grass with yellow stalks were knocked out in some places, streams glistening in the sun, along which pieces of earth and chips curled, reddened twigs of lilacs with swollen buds swaying under the very window, busy chirping of birds swarming in bush, a blackish fence wet from the snow melting on it, and most importantly - this fragrant damp air and the joyful sun spoke to me distinctly, clearly about something new and beautiful, which, although I cannot convey the way it affected me, I will try convey the way I perceived it - everything told me about beauty, happiness and virtue, said that both are easy and possible for me, that one cannot be without the other, and even that beauty, happiness and virtue - same. “How could I not understand this, how bad I was before, how I could and can be good and happy in the future! I said to myself. - We must quickly, quickly, this very minute become a different person and begin to live differently. Despite this, however, I sat for a long time at the window, dreaming and doing nothing. Have you ever gone to bed in the afternoon in cloudy rainy weather in the summer and, waking up at sunset, open your eyes and in the expanding quadrangle of the window, from under the linen side, which, puffing up, beats with a cane on the windowsill, see the shady lilac side of the lime tree, wet from the rain alleys and a damp garden path, illuminated by bright oblique rays, suddenly hear the cheerful life of birds in the garden and see insects that curl in the window opening, shining in the sun, smell the after-rain air and think: "I was not ashamed to oversleep such an evening", - and jump up hastily to go into the garden to enjoy life? If it happened, then here is an example of the strong feeling that I experienced at that time.
DREAMS
“Today I confess, I am cleansed of all sins,” I thought, “and I will never again ... (here I recalled all the sins that tormented me the most). I will certainly go to church every Sunday, and after another hour I read the Gospel, then from the little white one, which I will receive every month when I enter the university, I will certainly give two and a half (one tenth) to the poor, and so that no one did not know; and not beggars, but I will look for such poor, an orphan or an old woman, about whom no one knows.
I will have a special room (right, St. Jérôme's), and I will clean it myself and keep it amazingly clean; I will not force a man to do anything for himself. After all, he is the same as me. Then I will walk every day to the university on foot (and if they give me a droshky, I’ll sell them and put this money aside for the poor too) and I will do everything exactly (what was “all”, I could not say then, but I vividly understood and felt this "everything" of a rational, moral, impeccable life). I will compose lectures and even go ahead with subjects, so in the first year I will be the first and write a dissertation; in the second year I will already know everything ahead, and they can transfer me straight to the third year, so that at eighteen I will finish the course as the first candidate with two gold medals, then I will stand up for a master's degree, for a doctor and become the first scientist in Russia ... even at In Europe, I can be the first scientist ... Well, and then? - I asked myself, but then I remembered that these dreams are pride, a sin, about which I will have to tell my confessor tonight, and I returned to the beginning of the reasoning. - To prepare for lectures, I will walk to Vorobyovy Gory; I will choose a place under a tree for myself and give lectures; sometimes I'll take something to eat with me: cheese, or Pedotti's pie, or something. I’ll rest and then I’ll start reading some good book, or draw views, or play some instrument (I’ll certainly learn to play the flute). Then she, too, will go for a walk to Vorobyovy Gory and someday she will come up to me and ask: who am I? I will look at her so sadly and say that I am the son of a priest alone and that I am happy only here, when alone, completely alone. She will give me her hand, say something and sit next to me. So every day we will come here, we will be friends, and I will kiss her ... No, this is not good. On the contrary, from now on I will no longer look at women. Never, never will go to a girl's, I will even try not to pass by; and in three years I will leave the care and marry without fail. I will do as many movements as possible on purpose, gymnastics every day, so that when I am twenty-five I will be stronger than Rappo. The first day I will hold half a pound with my "outstretched hand" for five minutes, the next day twenty-one pounds, on the third day twenty-two pounds, and so on, so that, finally, four pounds in each hand, and so that I will be the strongest in dvne; and when suddenly someone takes it into his head to insult me \u200b\u200bor speak disrespectfully of her, I will just take him by the chest, raise him two yards from the ground with one hand and just hold him so that he can feel my strength and leave him; but, incidentally, this is not good either; no, nothing, because I will not harm him, but only prove that I am. .. "
May they not reproach me that the dreams of my youth are as childish as the dreams of childhood and adolescence. I am convinced that if I am destined to live to a ripe old age and my story will catch up with my age, I will be an old man of seventy years just as childishly impossible to dream as now. I will dream of some lovely Maria who will love me, a toothless old man, how she fell in love with Mazepa, how my feeble-minded son will suddenly become a minister on some extraordinary occasion, or how suddenly I will have a loss of millions of money ... I am convinced that there is no human being and age devoid of this beneficent, comforting ability to dream. But, excluding the general feature of impossibility - the magic of dreams, the dreams of every person and every age have their own distinctive character. During that period of time, which I consider the limit of adolescence and the beginning of adolescence, the basis of my dreams were four feelings: love for her, for an imaginary woman, about whom I always dreamed in the same sense and whom I expected to meet at any moment. This she was a little Sonechka, a little Masha, Vasily's wife, while she washes her clothes in the trough, and a little woman with pearls on her white neck, whom I saw a long time ago in the theater, in a box next to us. The second feeling was love love. I wanted everyone to know and love me. I wanted to say my name: Nikolai Irteniev, and so that everyone was amazed at this news, surrounded me and thanked me for something. The third feeling was the hope for extraordinary, vain happiness - so strong and firm that it turned into madness. I was so sure that very soon, as a result of some extraordinary incident, I would suddenly become the richest and most noble person in the world, that I was constantly in anxious expectation of something magically happy. I kept expecting that it would begin and I would achieve everything that a person could desire, and I was always in a hurry everywhere, believing that it was already beginning where I was not. The fourth and most important feeling was self-loathing and repentance, but repentance so much fused with the hope of happiness that it had nothing sad in it. It seemed to me so easy and natural to break away from all the past, remake, forget everything that was, and start my life with all its relationships completely again, that the past did not weigh me down, did not bind me. I even enjoyed in disgust for the past and tried to see it darker than it was. The blacker the circle of memories of the past was, the clearer and brighter the bright, pure point of the present stood out from it and the rainbow colors of the future developed. It was this voice of repentance and a passionate desire for perfection that was the main new emotional sensation in that era of my development, and it laid new beginnings in my view of myself, of people and of the world of God. A good, gratifying voice, so many times since then, in those sad times when the soul silently submitted to the power of life's lies and debauchery, suddenly boldly rebelled against any untruth, maliciously denouncing the past, pointing out, forcing her to love, a clear point of the present and promising good and happiness in the future - a good, gratifying voice! Will you ever stop sounding?
Chapter IV
OUR FAMILY CIRCLE
Dad was rarely at home this spring. But on the other hand, when this happened, he was extremely cheerful, strummed his favorite tricks on the piano, made sweet eyes and invented jokes about all of us and Mimi, like the fact that the Georgian prince saw Mimi on a ride and fell so in love that he submitted a petition to the synod about the divorce officer that I was being appointed assistant to the Viennese envoy - and with a serious face he informed us of this news; frightened Katenka with the spiders she was afraid of; was very affectionate with our friends Dubkov and Nekhlyudov and incessantly told us and the guests his plans for the next year. Despite the fact that these plans changed almost every day and contradicted one another, they were so fascinating that we listened to them, and Lyubochka, without winking, looked directly at dad's mouth so as not to utter a single word. Either the plan was to leave us in Moscow at the university, and to go with Lyubochka to Italy for two years, then to buy an estate in the Crimea, on the southern coast, and go there every summer, then to move to St. Petersburg with the whole family, and so on. But, besides special fun, recently there has been a change in my dad that surprised me very much. He made himself a fashionable dress - an olive tailcoat, fashionable trousers with stripes and a long békesa, which went very well with him, and often he smelled great of perfume when he went to visit, and especially to one lady, about whom Mimi did not say otherwise, as with a sigh and with such a face on which you read the words: “Poor orphans! Unhappy passion! It’s good that she’s gone, ”and so on. I learned from Nikolai, because dad didn’t tell us anything about his gambling business, that he played especially happily this winter; won something an awful lot, put the money in a pawnshop and didn't want to play anymore in the spring. True, from this, fearing not to resist, he so wanted to quickly leave for the village. He even decided, without waiting for my entry into the university, immediately after Easter to go with the girls to Petrovskoe, where Volodya and I were to arrive later.
Volodya was inseparable from Dubkov all this winter and until spring (they began to disperse coldly with Dmitry). Their main pleasures, as far as I could conclude from the conversations that I heard, constantly consisted in the fact that they constantly drank champagne, rode in a sleigh under the windows of a young lady, whom, it seems, they were in love with together, and danced vis-a-vis no longer in children's rooms. but at real balls. This last circumstance, despite the fact that we in Volodya loved each other, very much separated us. We felt too much of a difference - between the boy the teachers go to and the man who dances at the big balls - to dare to communicate our thoughts to each other. Katya was already quite big, she read a lot of novels, and the thought that she might soon get married no longer seemed like a joke to me; but, despite the fact that Volodya was big, they did not agree with him and even, it seems, mutually despised each other. In general, when Katya was at home alone, nothing but novels interested her, and for the most part she was bored; when there were strangers, she became very lively and amiable and did with her eyes what I already could not understand, what she wanted to express by this. Then only, having heard in conversation from her that the only coquetry permissible for a girl is coquetry of the eyes, I could explain to myself these strange unnatural grimaces with eyes that did not seem to surprise others at all. Lyubochka, too, was already beginning to wear an almost long dress, so that her goose legs were almost invisible, but she was the same crybaby as before. Now she dreamed of marrying not a hussar, but a singer or musician, and for this purpose she diligently studied music. St.-Jérôme, who, knowing that he would stay in our house only until the end of my examinations, sought a place for himself with some count, has somehow contemptuously looked at our household ever since. He was rarely at home, began to smoke cigarettes, which were then great panache, and incessantly whistled some cheerful motives through the card. Mimi became more and more upset and upset every day and, it seemed, since we all began to grow big, she did not expect anything good from anyone or anything.
When I came to dinner, I found in the dining room only Mimi, Katya, Lyubochka and St. Jérôme; dad was not at home, and Volodya was preparing for the exam with his comrades in his room and demanded lunch to his place. In general, this last time, for the most part, the first place at the table was occupied by Mimi, whom no one respected, and the dinner lost a lot of its charm. Dinner was no longer, as with maman or grandmother, some kind of ritual that unites the whole family at a certain hour and divides the day into two halves. We allowed ourselves to be late, come to the second course, drink wine in glasses (as exemplified by St.-Jérôme himself), lounging in a chair, getting up without having finished dinner, and the like. Since then, dinner has ceased to be, as before, a daily family joyful celebration. Either it happened in Petrovskoye, when at two o'clock everyone, washed, dressed for dinner, was sitting in the living room and, talking merrily, waiting for the appointed hour. Just at the same time as the clock in the waiter's room wheezes to strike two, with a napkin on his hand, with a dignified and somewhat stern face, Fock enters with quiet steps. "Food is ready!" - he proclaims in a loud, drawn-out voice, and everyone with cheerful, contented faces, the elders in front, the younger ones behind, rustling their starched skirts and creaking boots and shoes, go into the dining room and, talking quietly, sit down at the well-known places. Or maybe it happened in Moscow, when everyone, quietly talking, is standing in front of the laid table in the hall, waiting for grandmother, whom Gavrilo has already passed to report that the food has been delivered - suddenly the door opens, a rustle of a dress, shuffling of feet is heard, and grandmother, in a cap with some unusual purple bow, sideways, smiling or grimly squinting (depending on health reasons), floats out of his room. Gavrilo rushes to her chair, the chairs are noisy, and, feeling some cold running down your back - a harbinger of appetite, you grab a damp starchy napkin, eat a crust of bread and with impatient and joyful greed, rubbing your hands under the table, you glance at the smoking plates soup, which the butler pours out by rank, age and attention of the grandmother.
Now I no longer felt any joy or excitement, coming to dinner.
The chatter of Mimi, St. Jérôme and the girls about what terrible boots the Russian teacher wears, like the princesses of the Kornakovs dresses with flounces, etc., is their chatter, which had previously inspired me with sincere contempt, which I, especially in relation to Lyubochka and Katenka, did not try to hide, did not bring me out of my new, virtuous disposition of spirit. I was unusually meek; smiling, he listened to them especially affectionately, respectfully asked them to give me some kvass and agreed with St. Jérôme, who corrected me in the phrase I said at dinner, saying that it is more beautiful to speak je puis than je peux. I must, however, confess that I was somewhat unpleasant that no one paid any particular attention to my meekness and virtue. After lunch, Lyubochka showed me a piece of paper on which she wrote down all her sins; I found that this is very good, but what is even better in my soul to write down all my sins and that "all this is not right."
- Why is it wrong? - asked Lyubochka.
- Well, yes, and that's good; you won't understand me, - and I went to my upstairs, telling St.-Jérôme that I was going to study, but, in fact, so that before confession, which had an hour and a half left, to write myself a schedule of my duties and occupations, set out on paper the purpose of your life and the rules by which you always act without retreating.
REGULATIONS
I took out a piece of paper and first of all wanted to get down to the schedule of duties and classes for the next year. It was necessary to spill the paper. But since I didn't have a ruler, I used the Latin lexicon for this. In addition, when I ran my pen along the lexicon and then pushed it aside, it turned out that instead of a line I made an oblong puddle of ink on the paper - the lexicon was not enough for all the paper, and the line bent over its soft corner. I took another paper and, moving the vocabulary, spilled it somehow. Dividing my duties into three kinds: duties to myself, to my neighbors and to God, I began to write the first ones, but there were so many and so many kinds and subdivisions that it was necessary to first write "The Rules of Life", and then start schedule. I took six sheets of paper, stitched a notebook and wrote on top: "The Rules of Life." These two words were written so crookedly and unevenly that I thought for a long time: should I rewrite? and suffered for a long time, looking at the torn schedule and this ugly title. Why is everything so beautiful, clear in my soul and so ugly on paper and in life in general, when I want to apply to it something from what I think? ..
“The confessor has arrived, please listen to the rules downstairs,” Nikolai came to report.
I hid the notebook in the table, looked in the mirror, brushed my hair up, which, in my opinion, gave me a thoughtful look, and went into the sofa, where there was already a set table with an image and burning wax candles. Dad came in at the same time with me through another door. The confessor, a gray-haired monk with a stern old face, blessed the Pope. Daddy kissed his small, broad, dry hand; I did the same.
“Call Voldemar,” Dad said. - Where is he? Or not, because he is fasting at the university.
“He is studying with the prince,” said Katenka and looked at Lyubochka. Lyubochka suddenly blushed for some reason, frowned, pretending that she was in pain, and left the room. I followed her out. She stopped in the living room and wrote something down again with a pencil on her paper.
- What else did you do a new sin? I asked.
“No, nothing, so,” she answered, blushing.
“Here, you’re all tempted,” said Katenka, entering the room and addressing Lyubochka.
I could not understand what was happening to my sister: she was so embarrassed that tears came to her eyes and that her embarrassment, reaching an extreme degree, turned into annoyance with herself and with Katya, who apparently teased her.
- It is clear that you are a foreigner (nothing could have been more offensive for Katenka the name of a foreigner, for this very purpose Lyubochka used it) - before such a sacrament, - she continued with a dignified voice, - and you deliberately upset me .. .you should understand ... this is not a joke at all ...
- Do you know, Nikolenka, what she wrote? - said Katenka, resentful of the name of the foreigner, - she wrote ...
“I didn’t expect you to be so angry,” said Lyubochka, completely disunited as she walked away from us, “at such a minute, and on purpose, for a whole century, is making everything sinful. I don't bother you with your feelings and suffering.
CONFESSION
With these and similar scattered reflections, I returned to the divan room when everyone gathered there and the confessor, getting up, prepared to read a prayer before confession. But as soon as, in the midst of the general silence, the expressive, stern voice of a monk reading a prayer was heard, and especially when he uttered the words to us: open all your sins without shame, concealment and excuse, and your soul will be cleansed before God, and if you hide anything, great you will have sin, - the feeling of awe that I felt in the morning at the thought of the upcoming sacrament returned to me. I even found pleasure in the consciousness of this state and tried to keep it, stopping all the thoughts that came into my head, and increasing my fear of something.
The first was the Pope. He spent a very long time in grandmother's room, and during all this time we were all silent in the couch or in whispers about who would go first. Finally, the voice of a monk reading a prayer was heard from the door again, and the steps of the Pope. The door creaked, and he walked out of there, coughing out of habit, twitching his shoulder and not looking at any of us.
- Well, now you go, Lyuba, look, tell me everything. You’re a great sinner, ”Dad said cheerfully, pinching her cheek.
Lyubochka turned pale and blushed, took out and again hid the note from her apron and, drooping her head, somehow shortening her neck, as if expecting a blow from above, walked through the door. She did not stay there long, but as she walked out, her shoulders twitched with sobs. Finally, after pretty Katya, who, smiling, walked out the door, my turn came. With the same stupid fear and desire to deliberately arouse this fear in myself more and more, I entered the half-lighted room. The confessor stood in front of the bank and slowly turned his face to me.
I stayed no more than five minutes in my grandmother's room, but I came out happy and, in my then conviction, completely pure, morally reborn and a new person. Despite the fact that I was unpleasantly amazed by the whole old environment of life, the same rooms, the same furniture, the same figure of mine (I would like everything external to change in the same way as it seemed to me that I myself had changed internally) - despite on this, I stayed in this joyful mood of spirit until the time I went to bed.
I was already falling asleep, going over with my imagination all the sins from which I had been cleansed, when I suddenly remembered one shameful sin that I had hidden in confession. The words of the prayer before confession came to my mind and never ceased to ring in my ears. All my calmness vanished instantly. "And if you hide it, you will have a great sin ..." - I heard incessantly, and I saw myself as such a terrible sinner that there was no worthy punishment for me. For a long time I turned from side to side, changing my position and from minute to minute expecting God's punishment and even sudden death - a thought that terrified me indescribable. But suddenly a happy thought occurred to me: what is the best way to go or go to the monastery to the confessor and again confess - and I calmed down.
Despite this, this summer, more than in other years, I have become closer to our young ladies on the occasion of the passion for music that has appeared in me. In the spring, a neighbor came to our village to be recommended, a young man who, as soon as he entered the drawing-room, kept looking at the piano and imperceptibly moving a chair towards it, talking, among other things, with Mimi and Katenka. After talking about the weather and the pleasures of country life, he skillfully led the conversation to the tuner, to the music, to the piano, and finally announced that he was playing, and very soon he played three waltzes, with Lyubochka, Mimi and Katenka standing near the piano and looking at him ... This young man has never been with us since, but I really liked his playing, his position at the pianos, shaking his hair and especially his manner of taking octaves with his left hand, quickly spreading the little finger and thumb an octave width and then slowly bringing them together and quickly spreading them again ... This graceful gesture, the careless posture, the shaking of my hair and the attention our ladies showed to his talent gave me the idea of \u200b\u200bplaying the piano. As a result of this thought, making sure that I have a talent and passion for music, I began to study. In this respect, I acted in the same way as millions of male and especially female students without a good teacher, without a true vocation and without the slightest idea of \u200b\u200bwhat art can give and how you need to get down to it in order for it to give anything. For me music, or rather playing the piano, was a means of seducing girls with my feelings. With Katya's help, I learned the notes and broke my fat fingers a little, for which, however, I spent two months of such zeal that even at dinner on my knee and in bed on a pillow I worked with a recalcitrant ring finger, I immediately began to play plays, and played them, of course, with soul, avec âme, in which Katya also agreed, but completely without tact. The selection of pieces was well-known - waltzes, gallops, arrangés, etc. - all those lovely composers whom any person with a little sane taste will select for you in a music shop a small pile from a heap of beautiful things and say: “This is not you have to play, because nothing has ever been written on music paper worse, tastier and more senseless than this, ”and which, probably, for this very reason, you will find on the pianos of every Russian young lady. True, we also had the unfortunate, forever disfigured by the young ladies "Sonate Pathétique" and Beethoven's Cis-minor sonatas, which, in the memory of maman, were played by Lyubochka, and other good things that her Moscow teacher asked her, but there were also compositions this teacher, the most absurd marches and gallops, which Lyubochka also played. Katenka and I didn’t like serious things, but preferred everything to “Le Fou” and “Nightingale”, which Katenka played so that her fingers were not visible, and I was already starting to play quite loudly and together. I internalized the gesture of a young man and often regretted that there was no stranger to watch me play. But soon Liszt and Kalkbrener seemed too much for me, and I saw the impossibility of catching up with Katenka. As a result, imagining that classical music is easier, and partly for originality, I suddenly decided that I love learned German music, began to get delighted when Lyubochka played "Sonate Pathétique", despite the fact that, in truth, this the sonata has long become disgusted with me to the extreme, he himself began to play Beethoven and pronounce Beeethoven. Through all this confusion and pretense, as I now recall, I, however, had something like a talent, because often music made a strong impression on me to tears, and those things that I liked, I somehow knew how to search without notes on the piano; so if then someone had taught me to look at music as a goal, as an independent pleasure, and not a means to seduce girls with the speed and sensitivity of my playing, perhaps I would have become a really decent musician. Reading French novels, of which Volodya brought many with him, was my other occupation this summer. At that time, the Montecrists and various "Mysteries" were just beginning to appear, and I was reading the novels of Sue, Dumas and Paul de Coca. All the most unnatural persons and events were for me as alive as reality, I not only did not dare to suspect the author of a lie, but the author himself did not exist for me, but by themselves appeared before me, from a printed book, living, real people and events. If I had never met faces similar to those about whom I read, then I did not doubt for a second that they will be. I found in myself all the described passions and similarities with all characters, both with the heroes and with the villains of each novel, as a suspicious person finds in himself the signs of all possible illnesses by reading a medical book. I liked in these novels both cunning thoughts, and passionate feelings, and magical events, and whole characters: kind, so absolutely kind; angry, so completely angry - just as I imagined people in my first youth; I liked it very, very much, and that it was all in French and that those noble words spoken by noble heroes, I could remember, mention on occasion in a noble cause. How many novels have I invented various French phrases for Kolpikov, if I ever met him, and for her, when I finally meet her and open up to her in love! I prepared to tell them such that they would die if they heard me. On the basis of the novels, I even formed new ideals of moral merit, which I wanted to achieve. First of all, I wanted to be "noble" in all my deeds and actions (I say noble, not noble, because the French word has a different meaning, which the Germans understood by adopting the word nobel and not confusing the concept of ehrlich with it), then to be passionate and, finally, to which I had an inclination before, to be as comme il faut as possible. I even tried in appearance and habits to be like heroes who had some of these virtues. I remember that in one of the hundreds of novels I read this summer there was one extremely passionate hero with bushy eyebrows, and I so wanted to be like him in appearance (morally, I felt exactly like him) that I, examining my eyebrows in front of mirror, I decided to trim them slightly so that they would grow thicker, but once, starting to cut, it so happened that I cut more in one place - I had to trim, and ended up with the fact that, to my horror, I saw myself in the mirror without eyebrows and therefore very ugly. However, hoping that soon my thick eyebrows would grow, like a passionate person, I consoled myself and only worried about what to say to all of our people when they saw me without eyebrows. I got the gunpowder from Volodya, rubbed it on my eyebrows and set it on fire. Although the gunpowder did not flare up, I was quite similar to the scorched one, no one recognized my trick, and indeed, when I had already forgotten about the passionate person, my eyebrows grew much thicker.Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy
WHAT I THINK THE BEGINNING OF YOUTH
I said that my friendship with Dmitry opened me a new outlook on life, its purpose and relationship. The essence of this view consisted in the conviction that the purpose of man is the striving for moral improvement and that this improvement is easy, possible and eternal. But until now I have enjoyed only the discovery of new thoughts arising from this conviction, and the drawing up of brilliant plans for a moral, active future; but my life went on in the same petty, confused and idle order.
Those virtuous thoughts that we went through in conversations with my adored friend Dmitry, wonderful Mitya, as I sometimes called him in a whisper with myself, they still liked only my mind, not my feeling. But the time came when these thoughts with such a fresh force of moral discovery came into my head that I got scared, thinking about how much time I had lost in vain, and immediately, the very second, I wanted to apply these thoughts to life, with a firm intention never no longer cheat on them.
And from this time I count the beginning adolescence.
At that time I was at the end of my sixteenth year. The teachers continued to visit me, St.-Jérôme looked after my teachings, and I reluctantly and reluctantly prepared for university. Outside of the doctrine, my classes consisted: in solitary incoherent dreams and reflections, in doing gymnastics in order to become the first strongman in the world, wearing a hat without any specific purpose and thought throughout all the rooms and especially the girl's corridor and looking at myself in the mirror, from which however, I always walked away with a heavy feeling of despondency and even disgust. My appearance, I was convinced, was not only ugly, but I could not even console myself with ordinary consolations in such cases. I could not say that I have an expressive, intelligent or noble face. There was nothing expressive — the most ordinary, coarse and bad features; the small gray eyes, especially when I looked in the mirror, were rather stupid than smart. There was even less courage: despite the fact that I was not small in stature and very strong in my years, all facial features were soft, listless, indefinite. There was nothing even noble; on the contrary, my face was the same as that of a common peasant, and the same large legs and arms; and this at that time seemed to me very ashamed.
That year, as I entered the university, Saint was somehow late in April, so exams were scheduled for Fomina, and on Passionate I had to fast and prepare for the final.
The weather after wet snow, which Karl Ivanovich used to call “ son came for father", For three days already it was quiet, warm and clear. There was no patch of snow to be seen in the streets; the dirty dough was replaced by the wet, shiny pavement and fast streams. The last drops were already melting from the rooftops in the sun, buds were puffing out on the trees in the front garden, there was a dry path in the yard, past a frozen heap of manure to the stable, and mossy grass was green between the stones near the porch. There was that special period of spring, which has the strongest effect on the human soul: bright, all-over shining, but not hot sun, streams and thawed patches, fragrant freshness in the air and a soft blue sky with long transparent clouds. I do not know why, but it seems to me that in a big city the influence of this first period of the birth of spring is even more tangible and stronger on the soul - you see less, but more anticipate. I stood by the window, through which the morning sun through the double frames was throwing dusty rays on the floor of my unbearably boring classroom, and I was solving a long algebraic equation on a black board. In one hand I was holding Franker's torn soft Algebra, in the other a small piece of chalk, which had already stained both hands, face and elbows of the half-coat. Nikolai, in an apron, with his sleeves rolled up, was beating off the putty with pliers and bending back the nails of the window that opened into the front garden. His occupation and the knocking he made entertained my attention. Moreover, I was in a very bad, dissatisfied frame of mind. Somehow I didn’t succeed: I made a mistake at the beginning of the calculation, so I had to start everything from the beginning; I dropped the chalk twice, felt that my face and hands were stained, the sponge had disappeared somewhere, the knock that Nikolai made somehow painfully shook my nerves. I wanted to get angry and grumble; I threw away the chalk, "Algebra" and began to pace the room. But I remembered that today is Passionate Middle, today we must confess, and that we must refrain from everything bad; and suddenly I came to some special, meek state of mind and went up to Nikolai.
