What Is to Be Done?

I do not dare to contradict him, because he is so sapient. But if I do not know, there are a good many other things that I know which thou, sapient reader, will not know, as long as thou shalt live. But there is one thing that I really do not know. I do not know this: where Rakhmétof is now, and what he is doing, or whether I shall ever see him again. I have no other information or conjectures, beyond what all of his acquaintances have. When three or four months had passed since his disappearance from Moscow, and there was no tidings at all about him, we all supposed that he went travelling over Europe. This conjecture apparently was true. At least, it was confirmed by the following circumstance. In a year after Rakhmétof disappeared, one of Kirsánof’s acquaintances met, on a car between Vienna and Munich, a young Russian, who said that he had travelled all over the Slavonic lands. Everywhere he had made friends among all classes; and in every country he had stayed long enough to learn the ideas, habits, style of life, the local customs of self-government, the different degrees of welfare among all the classes of the population; and for this purpose he had lived in the cities and towns, and had gone on foot from one village to another. Then afterwards, in the same way, he had studied the Romanians and Hungarians. He had travelled over Northern Germany; from there he had again made his way on foot to the South, in the German provinces of Austria. Now he was going to Bavaria, and from there to Switzerland, through Württemberg and Baden to France, which he intended to travel and walk through in the same way. From there, with the same purpose in view, he was going to England; and he intended to spend a year in this way. If any time should be left from this year, he would see the Spaniards and Italians. But if no time were left, then be it so, because this is “not so necessary”; but the other lands are necessary. “Why?” “For study.”

And after a year it would be “necessary” for him to be, at all events, in the States of North America, to study, which was more “necessary” for him than any other land, and there he was going to stay a long time; maybe for more than a year, and maybe forever, if he should find anything to do there. But it was more probable that in three years he would return to Russia, because in Russia, if not now, still by that time, it will be “necessary” for him to be there.

All this seemed very much like Rakhmétof, especially the word “necessary,” which was left in the narrator’s memory. His age, his voice, his features, as far as the narrator could remember, of the traveller, also pointed to Rakhmétof; but the narrator did not pay much attention at that time to his travelling companion, who, moreover, was not with him very long, not more than two hours. He entered the train at some little town, and he got out at some village; therefore the narrator could describe his appearance only in too general terms, and there was no full certainty possible; but in all probability it was Rakhmétof. Yet who can tell? Maybe it was not he.

There was still another rumor, that a young Russian, once a proprietor,78 appeared before one of the greatest European philosophers of the nineteenth century, the father of a new philosophy, a German. “I have thirty thousand thalers; all I need is five thousand. The balance I beg of you to accept from me.” (The philosopher was living very wretchedly.) “Why?” “To publish your works.” The philosopher naturally did not accept the offer; but the Russian was said to have left the money with a banker in the philosopher’s name, and to have written him thus: “Use this money as you please. Throw it into the river, if you want, but you can’t return it to me; you can’t find me.” And it is said that even now this money is at the banker’s. If this rumor is true, then there is no doubt that it was Rakhmétof who appeared before the philosopher.

Such was the gentleman who was sitting in Kirsánof’s library.

Yes, this gentleman is an extraordinary man, an example of a very rare species. I do not describe this example of a very rare species, with all this detail, for the sake of teaching thee, O sapient reader, how to treat people of this kind politely, for that is out of thy province. It is not likely that thou wilt see any such people; thy eyes, sapient reader, are not constituted so as to see such people; they are invisible to thee; only honest and courageous eyes see them; but the description of this man will serve thee, so thou canst know by hearsay what people there are in the world. For what purpose this description serves my lady readers and simple-hearted readers, they best know by themselves.

Yes, ridiculous people like Rakhmétof are very amusing. I say this for their own benefit, that they are ridiculous, because I feel pity for them. I say to those noble people who are fascinated by them, Don’t follow their example. I say this because the path over which they call you to follow is barren of personal happiness. But noble people do not listen to me. They say, “No, it is not barren, it is very rich; though it may be barren in some places, yet these places are not long; we shall have strength enough to pass these places, and we shall come to places which are rich with endless happiness.” So thou seest, sapient reader, that it is not for thy sake, but for the other part of the public, that I have said that such people as Rakhmétof are ridiculous. To thee,