passed
over points which they themselves knew without first inquiring of me
whether I did the same. Yet, day by day, I was coming to regard the
vulgarity of this circle with more indulgence, to feel increasingly
drawn towards its way of life, and to find in it much that was poetical.
Only my word of honour to Dimitri that I would never indulge in
dissipation with these new comrades kept me from deciding also to share
their diversions.

Once, I thought I would make a display of my knowledge of literature,
particularly French literature, and so led the conversation to that
theme. Judge, then, of my surprise when I discovered that not only had
my companions been reading the foreign passages in Russian, but that
they had studied far more foreign works than I had, and knew and could
appraise English, and even Spanish, writers of whom I had never so
much as heard! Likewise, Pushkin and Zhukovski represented to them
LITERATURE, and not, as to myself, certain books in yellow covers which
I had once read and studied when a child. For Dumas and Sue they had
an almost equal contempt, and, in general, were competent to form much
better and clearer judgments on literary matters than I was, for all
that I refused to recognise the fact. In knowledge of music, too, I
could not beat them, and was astonished to find that Operoff played the
violin, and another student the cello and piano, while both of them were
members of the University orchestra, and possessed a wide knowledge
of and appreciation of good music. In short, with the exception of the
French and German languages, my companions were better posted at every
point than I was, yet not the least proud of the fact. True, I might
have plumed myself on my position as a man of the world, but Woloda
excelled me even in that. Wherein, then, lay the height from which I
presumed to look down upon these comrades? In my acquaintanceship with
Prince Ivan Ivanovitch? In my ability to speak French? In my drozhki?
In my linen shirt? In my finger-nails? "Surely these things are all
rubbish," was the thought which would come flitting through my head
under the influence of the envy which the good-fellowship and kindly,
youthful gaiety displayed around me excited in my breast. Every one
addressed his interlocutor in the second person singular. True, the
familiarity of this address almost approximated to rudeness, yet
even the boorish exterior of the speaker could not conceal a constant
endeavour n