VI + 

Pavel Semenovich thought for a moment and then asked Petr Petrovich: + 

“Did Rogov ever study with you?” + 

“Rogov⁠ ⁠… I don’t remember⁠ ⁠… I’ve had so many.⁠ ⁠…” + 

“He was remarkable and our council often discussed him.⁠ ⁠… His fate was peculiar.⁠ ⁠… You see, the boy’s father was a rascal of the old school, a slanderer, drunkard and a quarrelsome fellow, and as much bothered by modern times as a wolf is by hunters. He came too late. Rough manners unfitted for the present times. He spent his last days in trouble, poverty, and drunkenness. He always thought that fate did not treat him fairly; people got along well, but he, as he thought⁠—a model of activity⁠—was dirty, hungry and oppressed.⁠ ⁠… And imagine⁠—this man had a family⁠ ⁠… a wife and son.⁠ ⁠… + 

“The wife was irresponsible; her whole being had been crushed in the full sense of the word, except one corner of her soul. When anything concerned her son, a door seemed to open into her completely stupefied soul, which was like a citadel uncaptured in the midst of a fallen city, and so much wifely heroism came out through this gate that at times the old ruffian and drunkard put his tail between his legs. God knows what this cost her, but she succeeded just the same in giving her son an education. When I went to teach in Tikhodol, I found this fellow in the last class. He was a bashful, apparently modest boy and behaved quietly; but his eyes had such an expression, strange, restrained; I confess it made you uneasy: a curious fire, like the flame of a restless, internal conflagration. His thin, drawn face was always pale and a crop of brown hair fell over his rough forehead. He learned easily, made few friends among his schoolmates, seemed to hate his father and loved his mother almost abnormally. + 

“Now⁠ ⁠… excuse me.⁠ ⁠… I must say a few words about myself. Otherwise you won’t understand a lot of what’s coming.⁠ ⁠… I’d only been teaching a very few years and had the usual idea.⁠ ⁠… I looked at my calling as noble, so to speak, from the ideal point of view. My companions seemed a holy regiment, yes⁠ ⁠… the gymnasium almost a temple.⁠ ⁠… You know, young people feel that way and value it highly.⁠ ⁠… You run to this light with every trouble and every question.⁠ ⁠… It’s the living soul of our business.⁠ ⁠… What shall I say, when he comes to you, a fellow with his young soul under his uniform with all its buttons sewed on.⁠ ⁠… I, the teacher, need him with his questions and errors.⁠ ⁠… And he needs me to search and study.⁠ ⁠… Honestly you want to guide them.⁠ ⁠…” + 

The narrator paused and continued in a low voice: + 

“That’s the way it was with me.⁠ ⁠… I got intimate with several boys from my classes, among them Rogov.⁠ ⁠… Gave them books, and they visited me. You understand, over a samovar, simply, heart to heart. I remember this as the finest time of my life.⁠ ⁠… Every time you open a new journal, you find conversation, discussion, argument. I listened, without interfering at first, to the way they wandered and argued, and then I explained⁠—carefully but pleasantly. You see, you get one thought and then another, and again it comes so sharp that it scratches you.⁠ ⁠… And you feel how you need to restrain yourself and think and study. And you grow with them.⁠ ⁠… And live.⁠ ⁠… + 

“It didn’t last long. One day my director called me in for a confidential conversation.⁠ ⁠… Well, you know the rest.⁠ ⁠… This ‘extracurricular’ influence of the leaders of youth does not enjoy protection. Journals already!⁠ ⁠… The director, you know him⁠—Nikolay Platonovich Popov⁠—is a fastidious man.⁠ ⁠… He merely hinted and afterwards acted as if he really knew nothing.⁠ ⁠… I almost got angry; at first I even refused to obey, and appealed to the highest understanding of my obligations. Then⁠ ⁠… I saw that it was no use. The main point was that I wasn’t the only one getting talked about: the boys were getting a bad reputation.⁠ ⁠… That was hard and difficult enough but what could I say to my young disputants? How could I explain it? I obeyed the evidently senseless and humiliating order! This was the first blow that life had dealt me and I did not notice at the time that I had received a mortal wound. + 

“I obeyed and stopped my evening discussions. I can conscientiously say that I thought even more about them. But youths, you know, don’t obey so easily and can’t understand the whole meaning. One evening this Rogov came to me with a companion. Secretly. Flushed faces, blazing eyes, and a peculiar look.⁠ ⁠… I stopped this kind of fellowship. ‘No,’ I said, ‘gentlemen, we’d better stop it.’ I saw that both boys were getting worked up. Rogov began to say something, but he had a convulsion of the throat and his eyes suddenly took on an evil expression.⁠ ⁠… I found a way to justify myself: I was afraid for them, especially for Rogov and his mother.⁠ ⁠… You see, if our conspiracies were discovered, his whole career⁠—and his mother’s heroism⁠—would have gone for nothing. So I yielded⁠ ⁠… for the first time.⁠ ⁠… + 

“In place of this I tried to make my lessons as interesting as possible. My evenings were free.⁠ ⁠… It was boring. I’d begun to get accustomed to my young circle. And now⁠—nothing. I went for my books. Worked like a dog and kept thinking: this must be interesting to them; it will be new and it answers such and such questions.⁠ ⁠… I read and dug in my books, collected everything interesting, attractive, that pushed apart the official walls and the official lessons.⁠ ⁠… I kept thinking of those conversations.⁠ ⁠… And I thought I was getting results.⁠ ⁠… I remember the whole class almost died from zeal.⁠ ⁠… Suddenly the director began to attend the lessons. He’d come in, sit down, and listen without saying a word.⁠ ⁠… You know what happened next. You act as if it were nothing, but both you and the class feel it’s not a lesson but a sort of investigation.⁠ ⁠… Again delicate questions on the side: ‘Really, excuse me, but where did you get this? Out of what official text book? How do you think this agrees with the courses of study?’ + 

“I’ll be brief.⁠ ⁠… In a word, the enthusiasm finally died out of me.⁠ ⁠… The class became merely a class: the living people began to retire further and further; they disappeared in a sort of fog.⁠ ⁠… I lost intellectual contact. Remarks⁠ ⁠… plan⁠ ⁠… the enumeration of the stylistic beauties of a live work. In this there are twelve beauties. First⁠ ⁠… second⁠ ⁠… and so on.⁠ ⁠… It fitted the program.⁠ ⁠… That is, you understand, I didn’t notice how I dried up just like Budnikov. + 

“Anyway this young fellow finished his course and went to the capital.⁠ ⁠… He didn’t get into the university right away. It was the time of secret denunciations.⁠ ⁠… Perhaps my lectures were suspicious. To sum up⁠—he lost a year. He wrote his mother that he had entered and had a fellowship, but he really beat his way along, was poor and probably got disgusted. Then he began to tramp. Suddenly he had a great sorrow: his mother died before he could get home. As soon as her son left home, she began to waste away.⁠ ⁠… The guiding star of her life, so to speak, disappeared from the horizon⁠—and she lost the power of resistance. Died of consumption, you know, quickly, almost gladly. ‘Vanya doesn’t need me any more,’ she’d say. ‘I got him on the right track, thank God. He’ll get along now.’ She said the Nunc Dimittis and died. Soon after they found the honored father in a ditch. And my Rogov was an orphan.⁠ ⁠… + 

“The old woman was really in too much of a hurry; her son really needed her more than ever. He learned well and eagerly, so to speak, without wasting his time, as if he were hurrying somewhere. When he heard of his mother’s death, something broke in his soul.⁠ ⁠… In turn she seemed to have been the only ideal in his life. ‘I’ll finish, get on my feet, revive my shattered truth: even though she’s ready to die, mother’ll know that there is divine blessing, love, and gratitude.⁠ ⁠… For a year, a month, even a week.⁠ ⁠… An instant even, for her heart to be filled and melted with joy.’ Suddenly, in place of everything, the grave.⁠ ⁠… A crash⁠ ⁠… and it’s all over! There’s no need of gratitude, nothing to go back to, to correct.⁠ ⁠… You’ve got to have strength to stand such a temptation without being shattered.⁠ ⁠… You need faith in the general meaning of life.⁠ ⁠… It mustn’t seem to you but blind chance.⁠ ⁠… + 

“He didn’t hold on. He had no support.⁠ ⁠… He changed, got rough, and began to drink in with his wine a poisonous feeling of insult and of the injustice of fate.⁠ ⁠… So it went. He threw up his examinations⁠—what was the use of getting a diploma? He drifted along like an empty boat on a river.⁠ ⁠… He came back to our city.⁠ ⁠… Perhaps he wanted to tie up by his mother’s grave.⁠ ⁠… But how could that help him?⁠ ⁠… If he’d tried to find some meaning, that would have been another thing.⁠ ⁠… And so⁠ ⁠… he got in court a certificate, ‘to travel’ on business, and followed his father’s footsteps. He lived a dissolute life, spent his time in saloons, with worthless people, and engaged in business of the most shady character. One year of this life⁠—and he’d become a drunken, impudent bum, the enfant terrible of our peaceful city, a menace to the citizens. The devil knows how, but the bashful boy became insolent and diabolically clever: everyone in the city was afraid of him.⁠ ⁠… It’s strange, but there isn’t a city in Russia without its Rogov. A sort of a state character. It was quiet everywhere, peaceful slumber, idyllic calm, M. Budnikov walking along the streets, obstinate, conceited, counting his steps.⁠ ⁠… Evenings, especially on holidays, these poetic murmurs, and there’s a lot of noise from some saloon like our ‘On the Crags,’ and some misshapen, sick and desperate soul carousing.⁠ ⁠… Satellites around, of course. This is a natural and necessary detail to fill up the provincial corners, so to speak.⁠ ⁠… + 

“Rogov met me soon after he turned up.⁠ ⁠… He bowed shyly and went to one side, especially when he was drunk. One time I met him, spoke to him, and asked him in.⁠ ⁠… He came⁠ ⁠… sober, serious, even bashful⁠ ⁠… from old habit, of course.⁠ ⁠… But we didn’t stick together. Memories parted us: I was a young teacher with a lively faith in my calling, with lively feelings and words: He was a young man, still pure and respecting my moral authority.⁠ ⁠… Now he was Vanka Rogov, a Tikhodol bum, engaged in shady business.⁠ ⁠… And I.⁠ ⁠… In a word, we seemed to be parted by a solid wall: the main reason of all I won’t mention. I felt that I had to shatter the barrier, tell him something that would reach his soul and control it as I used to.⁠ ⁠… He seemed to be waiting for this in terror: waiting for the cruel blow.⁠ ⁠… His eyes showed his pain and expectation.⁠ ⁠… I didn’t have the strength. It was gone,⁠ ⁠… lost probably when for the first time we parted in shame.⁠ ⁠… + 

“I had to watch like a sympathetic witness, so to speak, how this young fellow degraded himself, grew fast, drank, and defiled himself.⁠ ⁠… He got insolent, lost all sense of shame. Then I heard that Rogov was an extortioner and begging. Business was poor; he was on the border between the merely offensive and the criminal. He was as clever as an acrobat and laughed at everything. In two or three years he was absolutely transformed. He had become a menacing, dirty, and very unpleasant figure. + 

“Sometimes he’d come when he was drunk.⁠ ⁠… It’s strange: but I seemed to feel more at home when he was that way.⁠ ⁠… It simplified matters, his fault was evident, and it was easier to draw a moral. I remember after one of his descents into the loathsome, I said to him: + 

“ ‘This and that’s not right, Rogov.’ + 

“He shrugged his shoulders, turned away his eyes, as if he was afraid of a moral beating; then he shook his hair, looked me straight in the eye, obviously relying on his impudence: + 

“ ‘What’s wrong, Pavel Semenovich?’ + 

“ ‘It’s disgraceful,’ I said. + 

“ ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I’ve changed one quarrelsome goal for another not less quarrelsome. That was wrong and now it’s disgraceful. My theory works out all right for me,’ he said. ‘Honor and everything like that is nothing but dessert. You know it comes after dinner. If there’s no dinner, what’s the use of dessert?⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘But, remember, Rogov,’ I said, ‘why you have no dinner.⁠ ⁠… You studied well, had a good start, and then suddenly went wrong.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“That moment I thought my statement was not only convincing but incontrovertible.⁠ ⁠… And he looked at me, laughed, and said: + 

“ ‘You’ve sometimes played billiards a little, haven’t you?’ + 

“ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I play for relaxation.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘You know the downward stroke?’ + 

“ ‘Yes.’ You know that’s a peculiar and paradoxical shot. The ball first goes forward and then it suddenly and apparently of its own accord rolls back.⁠ ⁠… At first sight it seems incomprehensible and a violation of the laws of motion, but it’s really simple. + 

“ ‘Well, what do you think?’ he asked. ‘Has the ball a will of its own? No.⁠ ⁠… It’s merely a contest between two different motions.⁠ ⁠… One rules in the beginning, the other later.⁠ ⁠… Now you see,’ he said, ‘all her life my mother went straight but father, as you know, spun around like a top. That’s why I went straight at first, as long as my mother’s impulse lasted.⁠ ⁠… I hadn’t gotten my bearings, when I swung round to father’s pattern.⁠ ⁠… There’s my whole story.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“He spoke frankly and hopelessly. He dropped his head, shook his hair down over his face, and then, when he looked at me again, I felt uneasy. His eyes showed his pain. Did you ever see a sick animal?⁠ ⁠… A dog⁠—usually an affectionate brute, is willing then to bite its master. + 

“ ‘Now,’ he said, ‘whom do you think’s to blame?’ + 

“ ‘I don’t know, Rogov. I’m not your judge.⁠ ⁠… It’s not a question of blame.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘Not of blame, what then? I think he’s to blame who started me off with that shot.⁠ ⁠… That means to condemn no one. I’m a case of downward stroke in life.⁠ ⁠… I do the will of Him that sent me.⁠ ⁠… So there you are, my dear Pavel Semenovich.⁠ ⁠… Have you got two grivens of silver? I want to drown my sorrow.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“This was the first time that he had asked me for two grivens and I instantly felt that the old barrier between us had been broken. Now he could insult me as he would anyone else. + 

“I wanted to defend myself. + 

“ ‘No, Rogov. I won’t give you two grivens. Come any time you feel like.⁠ ⁠… I’m glad to see you.⁠ ⁠… But this is impossible.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“He dropped his shaggy head, sat down, and said dully: + 

“ ‘Yes, Pavel Semenovich. Excuse me. I’ll come without begging. Yet to sit down with you, I feel easier and free from my usual load.’ + 

“He sat still. A long, strained silence ensued. Then he said: + 

“ ‘There was a time⁠ ⁠… when I hoped to receive something from you.⁠ ⁠… You don’t know what you meant to me. Even now I sometimes feel I must see you. You’re waiting for something.⁠ ⁠… No.⁠ ⁠… It’s hopeless.⁠ ⁠… A downward stroke and it’s all over.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘Excuse me, Rogov,’ I said. ‘You’re really misusing that example from billiards. You’re not an ivory ball but a living man.’ + 

“ ‘And for that reason, I feel.⁠ ⁠… As for a ball⁠—wherever you send it⁠—into a pocket or a hole, that ivory ball doesn’t care.⁠ ⁠… But a man, most esteemed Pavel Semenovich, finds it hard to be pocketed.⁠ ⁠… Do you think that anyone willingly and voluntarily refuses dessert?⁠ ⁠… I wouldn’t.⁠ ⁠… I’m a man with reflexes, as they say. I see and examine my trajectory clear to the end.⁠ ⁠… I’ll become a pig of pigs and I can’t reform. At times I think⁠ ⁠… perhaps⁠ ⁠… somehow⁠ ⁠… somewhere⁠ ⁠… there may be some⁠ ⁠… point of support.⁠ ⁠… Sometimes you get irritated⁠ ⁠… really.⁠ ⁠… Where is truth⁠ ⁠… reality?⁠ ⁠… Is there such a thing, Pavel Semenovich?’ + 

“ ‘Of course there is,’ I answered. + 

“ ‘How sincerely you spoke. There must be, of course⁠ ⁠… there is.⁠ ⁠… But where? Excuse me, I don’t want to catch you.⁠ ⁠… You don’t know yourself. You looked once and stopped. That’s why I’ll only ask you for two grivens. Sometimes I may be sitting by a fire.⁠ ⁠… You’re a man with a soul.⁠ ⁠… Another time, perhaps, I’ll be able to get more out of you.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘Listen here,’ I said to him. ‘Think now, can I really help you in any way?’ I felt that there was something to him.⁠ ⁠… He was rather touched, was not insolent.⁠ ⁠… He became thoughtful and dropped his head. + 

“ ‘No,’ he replied, ‘it can’t be done. You’re not to blame, friend. Because⁠ ⁠… I, and everyone like me, is very greedy. Like swine we wallow in the mire, and we want anyone who helps us to be whiter than snow.⁠ ⁠… You need a lot of strength, friend. You haven’t enough.⁠ ⁠… A storm is necessary.⁠ ⁠… To breathe fire.⁠ ⁠… There are miracles.⁠ ⁠… But you.⁠ ⁠… You’re not angry at me?⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“ ‘Angry? Why?’ + 

“We both stopped talking. I had nothing to say to him, he began again to walk around, but he gradually recovered his former manner. He came and sat down and he showed his brandy. The next Saturday he came in the same condition and sat down beside me on the steps. Just then the bell rang for vespers. In a short time M. Budnikov came out of the gate. Dandy, you know how he is, stubborn as ever, perfectly self-satisfied.⁠ ⁠… He breathes forth the consciousness of duty well done. + 

“I remember what an unpleasant effect he produced upon me. Rogov’s face suddenly changed. He jumped up, adopted a theatrical pose, took off his cap, and said: + 

“ ‘To M. Budnikov, Semen Nikolayevich, on his way to vespers is extended the most respectful greeting of Vanka Rogov. + 

“Then with a sweeping wave of his cap, he began to sing⁠—from a well-known romance: + 

“ ‘I can n-no l-longer pay at all.⁠ ⁠… + 

Remem-mber me, m-my friend beloved.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“This buffoonery was too much.⁠ ⁠… I felt that I disliked Budnikov, but yet.⁠ ⁠… He was insulting a man on a point which from every angle and in any case should have won his respect. Yelena soon came out of the gate and also started for church. He sang to me: + 

“ ‘Ophelia! Nymph! Remember me + 

In those most sacred prayers of thine.’ + 

“This made me really angry. Yelena quailed before the impudent stare and insolent, even if unintelligible words. She dropped her head and quickly walked to church. + 

“ ‘Listen, Rogov,’ I said. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself! I must tell you⁠ ⁠… if you want to come here, I humbly beg you to act more decently.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“He turned and I saw in his eyes a peculiar expression⁠—of evil pain. He felt like biting me.⁠ ⁠… + 

“I tried to soften the bitterness of my words and said: + 

“ ‘Rogov, you don’t know these people, nor their relations, and yet you venture to insult them.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“He smiled at me and replied: + 

“ ‘You’re thinking of the idyl? The kindly M. Budnikov made two hearts happy. Why, here’s Gavryushenka.’ + 

“In truth, Gavrilo had just come out of the gate. Rogov beckoned to him rather hostilely.⁠ ⁠… + 

“ ‘I congratulate you, Gavryushenka,⁠ ⁠… on your master’s leavings.⁠ ⁠… Wise fellow! You knew where the crabs winter.⁠ ⁠… In case of necessity, you may depend upon my legal knowledge.⁠ ⁠…’ + 

“Surprising how these cynics find things out. Evidently Rogov knew the whole story and suspected Gavrilo of having mercenary motives.⁠ ⁠… + 

“He walked up and patted him on the shoulder.⁠ ⁠… Gavrilo got angry and pushed Rogov away violently. Rogov almost fell down, laughed, and, with pretended indifference, started along the path. He came up to me, stopped and said: + 

“ ‘Most esteemed Pavel Semenovich.⁠ ⁠… I want to ask you a question: haven’t you read⁠ ⁠… it’s in Xenophon⁠ ⁠… the conversation between Alcibiades and Pericles?⁠ ⁠… If you haven’t, I recommend it most highly. Although it’s in a dead language, it’s instructive.’ + 

“He went off singing an indecent song. A little while after I hunted up this dialogue. I wondered what he meant.⁠ ⁠… + 

“You know it’s a hard but a powerful piece. The subject’s about like this: Young Alcibiades went one day to Pericles.⁠ ⁠… Remember, Pericles was already a famous man and enjoyed the confidence of everyone⁠ ⁠… because of past services and a certain air of benevolence.⁠ ⁠… Anyway his position was secure. Alcibiades was a rascal, worthless, drunkard, in all sorts of scandals with Athenian girls, cut off dogs’ tails, as you know⁠ ⁠… A man of no reputation for well-doing. Well, one day, this rogue of a young fellow went up to Pericles and said: ‘Listen, Pericles, you’re a man chock full of benefactions clear to the top of your head, you may say. I’m wandering off the road and twisting up everything, for I have nothing to do. Everyone’s angry at me. I want you to explain everything to me.’ Pericles, of course, was willing and thought it was a good idea to talk to the young man. He might bring him to his senses. So he said: ‘Go ahead and ask what you want.’ Then came the question: ‘What is doing well? How do you learn it?’ Pericles, of course, laughed: ‘Honor the gods, obey the laws, and do your duty. To obey the laws is the first duty of a citizen and a man.’ ‘Fine,’ answered the young fellow. ‘Tell me, please, which laws am I to obey: the bad or the good ones?’ Pericles was almost insulted. ‘If a law’s a law, it’s good. What are you talking about?’ ‘No,’ said Alcibiades, ‘wait and don’t get angry.’⁠ ⁠… You know at this time in Athens all these principles were mixed up⁠ ⁠… parties, struggle, some robbing others, ostracism, a sort of banishment by administrative order⁠ ⁠… usurpers⁠ ⁠… favorites⁠ ⁠… there really was confusion⁠—a man jumped forward and drew up his own laws for his own advantage or for his relatives and friends. Then old gods were all mixed up, the oracles answered anything, provided it didn’t apply to the subject. In a word, everything that was clear in life had become unclear: there was no equilibrium, no generally acknowledged truth.⁠ ⁠… A new system was necessary. Clouds covered the sky and there were no stars to steer by.⁠ ⁠… That was why Alcibiades asked what laws should be obeyed; those which prescribe good or bad. Of course, Pericles answered the good. ‘How can I tell which are good? What is the mark, so to speak?’ ‘Obey all! That’s what laws are for!⁠ ⁠…’ ‘That means laws passed by the power of tyrants?’ ‘No, you don’t need to obey those.⁠ ⁠…’ ‘I see, only lawful laws, so to speak. Fine! But suppose the minority coerces the majority to its own advantage, don’t I need to obey those laws?’ ‘Of course not.’ ‘But if the majority coerce the minority, is that contrary to right?⁠ ⁠…’ You see what the young fellow was driving at: he didn’t need external signs, but he showed that he needed to feel in his soul universal truth, the highest truth, so to speak, the truth of life, sanctity.⁠ ⁠… Pericles, you see, hadn’t understood this.⁠ ⁠… Not merely Pericles, the whole country rested on slavery, on past wrong.⁠ ⁠… Religion had dried up, the old sanctity which had consecrated every step, every motion, the whole order, all human relationships⁠—people had ceased to feel it.⁠ ⁠… But Pericles argued around.⁠ ⁠… He didn’t want to confess that their laws had died.⁠ ⁠… He patted the dissolute young fellow on the shoulder with a great deal of condescension and said: ‘Yes, yes.⁠ ⁠… I see you’ve got a head on your shoulders. Years ago we used to settle such hard questions.’⁠ ⁠… Well, Alcibiades saw that Pericles was, so to speak, a recognized authority, was quibbling over trifles, didn’t treat these conflicts as anything alive⁠—and waved his hand. ‘I’m sorry, my dear sir, that I didn’t know you then.⁠ ⁠… Now I’m bored; I’m going to fool along.’ + 

“And that’s what he recommended to me, his former teacher.⁠ ⁠…” + 