y clever in business matters, and
was almost throwing up his government post to take charge of a large
manufacturing business. Pity he didn't do it! Then Shubin began to talk
about the theatre; Mr. Kurnatovsky declared and--I must confess--without
false modesty, that he has no ideas about art. That reminded me of
you--but I thought; no, Dmitri and I are ignorant of art in a very
different way though. This man seemed to mean, "I know nothing of it,
and it's quite superfluous, still it may be admitted in a well-ordered
state." He seems, however, to think very little about Petersburg and
_comme il faut_: he once even called himself one of the proletariat.
'We are working people,' he said; I thought if Dmitri had said that, I
shouldn't have liked it; but he may talk about himself, he may boast if
he likes. With me he is very attentive; but I kept feeling that a very,
very condescending superior was talking with me. When he means to praise
any one, he says So-and-so is a man of principle--that's his
favourite word. He seems to be self-confident, hardworking, capable of
self-sacrifice (you see, I am impartial), that's to say, of sacrificing
his own interest; but he is a great despot. It would be woeful to fall
into his power! At dinner they began talking about bribes.

'"I know," he said, "that in many cases the man who accepts a bribe is
not to blame; he cannot do otherwise. Still, if he is found out, he must
be punished without mercy."' I cried, "Punish an innocent man!" '"Yes;
for the sake of principle." '"What principle?" asked Shubin. Kurnatovsky
seemed annoyed or surprised, and said, "That needs no explanation."

'Papa, who seems to worship him, put in "of course not"; and to my
vexation the conversation stopped there. In the evening Bersenyev came
and got into a terrific argument with him. I have never seen our good
Andrei Petrovitch so excited. Mr. Kurnatovsky did not at all deny the
utility of science, universities, and so on, but still I understood
Andrei Petrovitch's indignation. The man looks at it all as a sort of
gymnastics. Shubin came up to me after dinner, and said, "This fellow
here and some one else (he can never bring himself to utter your name)
are both practical men, but see what a difference; there's the real
living ideal given to life; and here there's not even a feeling of duty,
simply official honesty and activity without anything inside it." Shubin
is clever, and I remembered his words to tell you;