end。　　And　not　only　at　the　present　time　owing　to　some　casual
  circumstances；　but　always；　at　all　times；　a　decent　man　is　bound　to
  be　a　coward　and　a　slave。　　It　is　the　law　of　nature　for　all　decent
  people　all　over　the　earth。　　If　anyone　of　them　happens　to　be
  valiant　about　something；　he　need　not　be　comforted　nor　carried
  away　by　that；　he　would　show　the　white　feather　just　the　same
  before　something　else。　　That　is　how　it　invariably　and　inevitably
  ends。　　Only　donkeys　and　mules　are　valiant；　and　they　only　till
  they　are　pushed　up　to　the　wall。　　It　is　not　worth　while　to　pay
  attention　to　them　for　they　really　are　of　no　consequence。
  Another　circumstance；　too；　worried　me　in　those　days：　that　there
  was　no　one　like　me　and　I　was　unlike　anyone　else。　　〃I　am　alone　and
  they　are　_everyone_；〃　I　thoughtand　pondered。
  From　that　it　is　evident　that　I　was　still　a　youngster。
  The　very　opposite　sometimes　happened。　　It　was　loathsome　sometimes
  to　go　to　the　office；　things　reached　such　a　point　that　I　often
  came　home　ill。　　But　all　at　once；　a　propos　of　nothing；　there　would
  come　a　phase　of　scepticism　and　indifference　（everything　happened
  in　phases　to　me）；　and　I　would　laugh　myself　at　my　intolerance　and
  fastidiousness；　I　would　reproach　myself　with　being　_romantic_。
  At　one　time　I　was　unwilling　to　speak　to　anyone；　while　at　other
  times　I　would　not　only　talk；　but　go　to　the　length　of
  contemplating　making　friends　with　them。　　All　my　fastidiousness
  would　suddenly；　for　no　rhyme　or　reason；　vanish。　　Who　knows；
  perhaps　I　never　had　really　had　it；　and　it　had　simply　been
  affected；　and　got　out　of　books。　　I　have　not　decided　that　question
  even　now。　　Once　I　quite　made　friends　with　them；　visited　their
  homes；　played　preference；　drank　vodka；　talked　of　promotions。。。。
  But　here　let　me　make　a　digression。
  We　Russians；　speaking　generally；　have　never　had　those　foolish
  transcendental　〃romantics〃German；　and　still　more　Frenchon
  whom　nothing　produces　any　effect；　if　there　were　an　earthquake；　if
  all　France　perished　at　the　barricades；　they　would　still　be　the
  same；　they　would　not　even　have　the　decency　to　affect　a　change；
  but　would　still　go　on　singing　their　transcendental　songs　to　the
  hour　of　their　death；　because　they　are　fools。　　We；　in　Russia；　have
  no　fools；　that　is　well　known。　　That　is　what　distinguishes　us　from
  foreign　lands。　　Consequently　these　transcendental　natures　are　not
  found　amongst　us　in　their　pure　form。　　The　idea　that　they　are　is
  due　to　our　〃realistic〃　journalists　and　critics　of　that　day；
  always　on　the　look　out　for　Kostanzhoglos　and　Uncle　Pyotr
  Ivanitchs　and　foolishly　accepting　them　as　our　ideal；　they　have
  slandered　our　romantics；　taking　them　for　the　same　transcendental
  sort　as　in　Germany　or　France。　　On　the　contrary；　the
  characteristics　of　our　〃romantics〃　are　absolutely　and　directly
  opposed　to　the　transcendental　European　type；　and　no　European
  standard　can　be　applied　to　them。　（Allow　me　to　make　use　of　this
  word　〃romantic〃…an　old…fashioned　and　much　respected　word　which
  has　done　good　service　and　is　familiar　to　all。）　The
  characteristics　of　our　romantic　are　to　understand　everything；　_to
  see　everything　and　to　see　it　often　incomparably　more　clearly　than
  our　most　realistic　minds　see　it_；　to　refuse　to　accept　anyone　or
  anything；　but　at　the　same　time　not　to　despise　anything；　to　give
  way；　to　yield；　from　policy；　never　to　lose　sight　of　a　useful
  practical　object　（such　as　rent…free　quarters　at　the　government
  expense；　pensions；　decorations）；　to　keep　their　eye　on　that　object
  through　all　the　enthusiasms　and　volumes　of　lyrical　poems；　and　at
  the　same　time　to　preserve　〃the　sublime　and　the　beautiful〃
  inviolate　within　them　to　the　hour　of　their　death；　and　to　preserve
  themselves　also；　incidentally；　like　some　precious　jewel　wrapped
  in　cotton　wool　if　only　for　the　benefit　of　〃the　sublime　and　the
  beautiful。〃　　Our　〃romantic〃　is　a　man　of　great　breadth　and　the
  greatest　rogue　of　all　our　rogues；　I　assure　you。。。。　I　can　assure
  you　from　experience；　indeed。　　Of　course；　that　is；　if　he　is
  intelligent。　　But　what　am　I　saying！　　The　romantic　is　always
  intelligent；　and　I　only　meant　to　observe　that　although　we　have
  had　foolish　romantics　they　don't　count；　and　they　were　only　so
  because　in　the　flower　of　their　youth　they　degenerated　into
  Germans；　and　to　preserve　their　precious　jewel　more　comfortably；
  settled　somewhere　out　thereby　preference　in　Weimar　or　the　Black
  Forest。　　I；　for　instance；　genuinely　despised　my　official　work　and
  did　not　openly　abuse　it　simply　because　I　was　in　it　myself　and　got
  a　salary　for　it。　　Anyway；　take　note；　I　did　not　openly　abuse　it。
  Our　romantic　would　rather　go　out　of　his　minda　thing；　however；
  which　very　rarely　happensthan　take　to　open　abuse；　unless　he　had
  some　other　career　in　view；　and　he　is　never　kicked　out。　　At　most；
  they　would　take　him　to　the　lunatic　asylum　as　〃the　King　of　Spain〃
  if　he　should　go　very　mad。　　But　it　is　only　the　thin；　fair　people
  who　go　out　of　their　minds　in　Russia。　　Innumerable　〃romantics〃
  attain　later　in　life　to　considerable　rank　in　the　service。　　Their
  many…sidedness　is　remarkable！　　And　what　a　faculty　they　have　for
  the　most　contradictory　sensations！　　I　was　comforted　by　this
  thought　even　in　those　days；　and　I　am　of　the　same　opinion　now。
  That　is　why　there　are　so　many　〃broad　natures〃　among　us　who　never
  lose　their　ideal　even　in　the　depths　of　degradation；　and　though
  they　never　stir　a　finger　for　their　ideal；　though　they　are　arrant
  thieves　and　knaves；　yet　they　tearfully　cherish　their　first　ideal
  and　are　extraordinarily　honest　at　heart。　　Yes；　it　is　only　among
  us　that　the　most　incorrigible　rogue　can　be　absolutely　and　loftily
  honest　at　heart　without　in　the　least　ceasing　to　be　a　rogue。　　I
  repeat；　our　romantics；　frequently；　become　such　accomplished
  rascals　（I　use　the　term　〃rascals〃　affectionately）；　suddenly
  display　such　a　sense　of　reality　and　practical　knowledge　that
  their　bewildered　superiors　and　the　public　generally　can　only
  ejaculate　in　amazement。
  Their　many…sidedness　is　really　amazing；　and　goodness　knows　what
  it　may　develop　into　later　on；　and　what　the　future　has　in　store
  for　us。　　It　is　not　a　poor　material！　　I　do　not　say　this　from　any
  foolish　or　boastful　patriotism。　　But　I　feel　sure　that　you　are
  again　imagining　that　I　am　joking。　　Or　perhaps　it's　just　the
  contrary　and　you　are　convinced　that　I　really　think　so。　　Anyway；
  gentlemen；　I　shall　welcome　both　views　as　an　honour　and　a　special
  favour。　　And　do　forgive　my　digression。
  I　did　not；　of　course；　maintain　friendly　relations　with　my
  comrades　and　soon　was　at　loggerheads　with　them；　and　in　my　youth
  and　inexperience　I　even　gave　up　bowing　to　them；　as　though　I　had
  cut　off　all　relations。　　That；　however；　only　happened　to　me　once。
  As　a　rule；　I　was　always　alone。
  In　the　first　place　I　spent　most　of　my　time　at　home；　reading。　　I
  tried　to　stifle　all　that　was　continually　seething　within　me　by
  means　of　external　impressions。　　And　the　only　external　means　I　had
  was　reading。　　Reading；　of　course；　was　a　great　helpexciting　me；
  giving　me　pleasure　and　pain。　　But　at　times　it　bored　me　fearfully。
  One　longed　for　movement　in　spite　of　everything；　and　I　plunged　all
  at　once　into　dark；　underground；　loathsome　vice　of　the　pettiest
  kind。　　My　wretched　passions　were　acute；　smarting；　from　my
  continual；　sickly　irritability　I　had　hysterical　impulses；　with
  tears　and　convulsions。　　I　had　no　resource　except　reading；　that
  is；　there　was　nothing　in　my　surroundings　which　I　could　respect
  and　which　attracted　me。　I　was　overwhelmed　with　depression；　too；　I
  had　an　hysterical　craving　for　incongruity　and　for　contrast；　and
  so　I　took　to　vice。　　I　have　not　said　all　this　to　justify
  myself。。。。　But；　no！　　I　am　lying。　　I　did　want　to　justify　myself。
  I　make　that　little　observation　for　my　own　benefit；　gentlemen。　　I
  don't　want　to　lie。　　I　vowed　to　myself　I　would　not。
  And　so；　furtively；　timidly；　in　solitude；　at　night；　I　indulged　in
  filthy　vice；　with　a　feeling　of　shame　which　never　deserted　me；
  even　at　the　most　loathsome　moments；　and　which　at　such　moments
  nearly　made　me　curse。　　Already　even　then　I　had　my　underground
  world　in　my　soul。　　I　was　fearfully　afraid　of　being　seen；　of　being
  met；　of　being　recognised。　　I　visited　various　obscure　haunts。
  One　night　as　I　was　passing　a　tavern　I　saw　through　a　lighted
  window　some　gentlemen　fighting　with　billiard　cues；　and　saw　one　of
  them　thrown　out　of　the　window。　　At　other　times　I　should　have　felt
  very　much　disgusted；　but　I　was　in　such　a　mood　at　the　time；　that　I
  actually　envied　the　gentleman　thrown　out　of　the　windowand　I
  envied　him　so　much　that　I　even　went　into　the　tavern　and　into　the
  billiard…room。　　〃Perhaps；〃　I　thought；　〃I'll　have　a　fight；　too；
  and　they'll　throw　me　out　of　the　window。〃
  I　was　not　drunkbut　what　is　one　to　dodepression　will　drive　a
  man　to　such　a　pitch　of　hysteria！　　But　nothing　happened。　　It
  seemed　that　I　was　not　even　equal　to　being　thrown　out　of　the
  window　and　I　went　away　without　having　my　fight。
  An　officer　put　me　in　my　place　from　the　first　m