ey decided to make a collection for
him on the spot, but the officials had already spent a great deal in
subscribing for the director's portrait, and for some book, at the
suggestion of the head of that division, who was a friend of the
author; and so the sum was trifling.

One of them, moved by pity, resolved to help Akaky Akakiyevich with
some good advice, at least, and told him that he ought not to go to
the police, for although it might happen that a police-officer,
wishing to win the approval of his superiors, might hunt up the cloak
by some means, still, his cloak would remain in the possession of the
police if he did not offer legal proof that it belonged to him. The
best thing for him, therefore, would be to apply to a certain
prominent personage; since this prominent personage, by entering into
relation with the proper persons, could greatly expedite the matter.

As there was nothing else to be done, Akaky Akakiyevich decided to go
to the prominent personage. What was the exact official position of
the prominent personage, remains unknown to this day. The reader must
know that the prominent personage had but recently become a prominent
personage, having up to that time been only an insignificant person.
Moreover, his present position was not considered prominent in
comparison with others still more so. But there is always a circle of
people to whom what is insignificant in the eyes of others, is
important enough. Moreover, he strove to increase his importance by
sundry devices. For instance, he managed to have the inferior
officials meet him on the staircase when he entered upon his service;
no one was to presume to come directly to him, but the strictest
etiquette must be observed; the collegiate recorder must make a report
to the government secretary, the government secretary to the titular
councillor, or whatever other man was proper, and all business must
come before him in this manner. In Holy Russia, all is thus
contaminated with the love of imitation; every man imitates and copies
his superior. They even say that a certain titular councillor, when
promoted to the head of some small separate office, immediately
partitioned off a private room for himself, called it the audience
chamber, and posted at the door a lackey with red collar and braid,
who grasped the handle of the door, and opened to all comers, though
the audience chamber would hardly hold an ordinary writing table.

The manners and customs o