vretsky championed the youth and the independence of Russia; he
was ready to throw over himself and his generation, but he stood up for
the new men, their convictions and desires. Panshin answered sharply
and irritably. He maintained that the intelligent people ought to change
everything, and was at last even brought to the point of forgetting his
position as a kammer-yunker, and his career as an official, and calling
Lavretsky an antiquated conservative, even hinting--very remotely it
is true--at his dubious position in society. Lavretsky did not lose his
temper. He did not raise his voice (he recollected that Mihalevitch
too had called him antiquated but an antiquated Voltairean), and
calmly proceeded to refute Panshin at all points. He proved to him the
impracticability of sudden leaps and reforms from above, founded neither
on knowledge of the mother-country, nor on any genuine faith in any
ideal, even a negative one. He brought forward his own education as an
example, and demanded before all things a recognition of the true spirit
of the people and submission to it, without which even a courageous
combat against error is impossible. Finally he admitted the
reproach--well-deserved as he thought--of reckless waste of time and
strength.

"That is all very fine!" cried Panshin at last, getting angry. "You now
have just returned to Russia, what do you intend to do?"

"Cultivate the soil," answered Lavretsky, "and try to cultivate it as
well as possible."

"That is very praiseworthy, no doubt," rejoined Panshin, "and I have
been told that you have already had great success in that line; but you
must allow that not every one is fit for pursuits of that kind."

"Une nature poetique," observed Marya Dmitrievna, "cannot, to be sure,
cultivate... et puis, it is your vocation, Vladimir Nikolaich, to do
everything en grand."

This was too much even for Panshin: he grew confused and changed the
conversation. He tried to turn it upon the beauty of the starlit sky,
the music of Schubert; nothing was successful. He ended by proposing
to Marya Dmitrievna a game of picquet. "What! on such an evening?" she
replied feebly. She ordered the cards to be brought in, however. Panshin
tore open a new pack of cards with a loud crash, and Lisa and Lavretsky
both got up as if by agreement, and went and placed themselves near
Marfa Timofyevna. They both felt all at once so happy that they were
even a little afraid of remaining alone togethe