' If the influence that you have exercised over Europe in matters of social intercourse were taken from you, what would be left you ? '
I felt that I had to deal with a powerful adversary. ' There would remain to us the glory of our history, and even that of the history of Russia; for this empire owes only its new influence in Europe to the energy with which it avenged itself for the conquest of its capital by the French.'
' Did you lose any dear friend in that Avar ? '
' No, monsieur.'
I had hoped that the aversion against France, which Avas betrayed by every word in the conversation of this rude lady, avou1c1 be explained to me by some too legitimate cause of resentment, but my expectation Avas deceived.
The conversation, which could not become general, Avas carried on in this manner until dinner. I sought to turn it to our new school of literature, but Balzac alone had been read. He was infinitely admired, and fairly judged. Almost all the works of our modern authors are prohibited in Russia, which proves the influence attributed to them. At last, after a long delay, Ave seated ourselves at table. The lady of the house, ever faithful to her part as a statue, made
THE DINNER.
199
that day but one movement: she transported herself, without turning her eyes or opening her lips, from her sofa in the drawing room to her chair in the dining-room. This change of position, performed spontaneously, proved to me that the idol had legs.
The dinner did not pass over without constraint, but it was not long, and appeared to me sufficiently good, with the exception of the soup, the originality of which passed all bounds. This soup was cold, and consisted of pieces of fish, which swam in a broth of strong, highly-seasoned, and highly-sweetened vinegar. With the exception of this infernal ragout, and of the sour cruarss, a species of beer which is a national beverage, I ate and drank with good appetite. There was excellent claret and ehampagne on the table, but I saw clearly that they had put themselves out on my account, which produced mutual formality and constraint. The engineer did not participate in this feeling; though a great man at his sluices, he was nothing at all in his own house, and left his mother-in-law to do its honours, with the grace of which the reader may judge.
At six in the evening my entertainers and myself parted, with a satisfaction that was reciprocal, and, it must be owned, ill-disguised. I left for the castle of
, where I was expected. The frankness of the
fair plebeians had reconciled me to the mincing affectations of certain great ladies. One may hope to triumph over affectation, but natural dispositions are invincible.
It was yet light when I reached, which is six
200EETURN TO PETERSBUEG.
garden, which, for Russia, is very handsome, sailing in a little boat on the Neva, and enjoying the refined and agreeable conversation of a member of the fashionable circles. What I have seen at Schlus-selberg will make me cautious how I place myself again in a position where it is necessary to face such interrogations as I submitted to in that society. Such drawing-rooms resemble fields of battle. The circles of fashion, with all their vices, seem preferable to this petty world, with all its precise virtues.
' I was again in Petersburg soon after midnight, having travelled during the day about thirty-six leagues through sandy and miry roads, with two sets of hired horses.
The demands upon the animals are in proportion to those made upon the men. The Russian horses seldom last more than eight or ten years. The pavement of Petersburg is as fatal to them as it is to the carriages, and, it may be said, to the riders, whose heads nearly split as soon as they are off the few wooden roads that can be found. It is true that the Russians have laid their detestable pavement in regularly-figured compartments of large stones,—an ornament which only increases the evil, for it makes riding in the streets yet more jolting. A certain appearance of elegance or magnificence—a boastful display of wealth and grandeur, is all that the Russians care for: they have commenced the work of civilisation by creating its superfluities. If such be the right way of proceeding, let us cry, '
THE PHILOSOPHY OF ADIEUS.201
PHILOSOPHY OF ADIEUS.IMAGINATION.A TWILIGHT SCENE IN
PETERSBURG.NORTHERN MYTHOLOGY. GOD IN NATURE.
THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD.LITERARY CANDOUR.THE BRIDGE
OF NEVA AT NIGHT.PETERSBURG COMPARED TO VENICE.THE
GOSPEL DANGEROUS. — RELIGION IN RUSSIA. JANUS. NEAY
POLAND. THE FUTURE.A DELAY. HISTORY OF THE PRINCE
AND PRINCESS TROUBETZKOI.DEVOTION OF THE PRINCESS.
FOURTEEN YEARS IN THE URALIAN MINES.MERCY OF THE EM
PEROR. THE CHILDREN OF A CONVICT. COLONISATION IN
SIBERIA.A MOTHER'S ANGUISH. SECOND PETITION TO THE
EMPEROR, AND HIS ANSWER.A FINAL OPINION ON THE CHA
RACTER OF THE EMPEROR.THE FAMILY OF THE EXILES.—
CHANGE IN THE AUTHOR`S PLANS.— MEANS TAKEN FOR DECEIVING THE POLICE.
I have bid adieu to Petersburg. — Adieu is a magical word ! It invests places as well as persons with an attraction previously unknown. Why has Petersburg never appeared to me so beautiful as on this evening? It is because I have seen it for the last time. The mind, rich in illusions, has the power of metamorphosing the world, the image of which is to us never anything more than the reflection of our inward life. Those who say that nothing exists beyond ourselves, are perhaps right; but I, prone to philosophy without wishing to be so, metaphysical without any other pretension than that of allowing the natural bent of my thoughts to take their course, inclining ever towards insolvable questions, doubtless к 5
202THE PHILOSOPHY OF ADIEUS.
I am unwise in seeking to account to myself for this incomprehensible influence. The torment of my mental faculties, the chief faults of my style, are produced by the necessity of defining the nndefinable : my powers lose themselves in the pursuit of the impossible ; my words suffice no better than my sentiments or my passions. Our dreams, our visions, are, as compared with clear precise ideas, what a horizon of brilliant clouds is to mountains, whose chains it sometimes imitates betwixt heaven and earth. No modes of expression can cleai`ly define and fix those fugitive creations of the phantasy, which vanish under the pen of the writer, as the brilliant pearls of a clear stream escape from the nets of the fisherman.
