Nikolai Gogol - Dead Souls

"For God's sake ..." the prince said with visible agitation, "tell me, do you know anything about it? I just recently wrote directly to Petersburg about alleviating his lot."

"No, Your Excellency, I'm not saying it because I know something that you don't know. Though there is indeed one circumstance that might serve in his favor, he himself would not consent because another man would suffer by it. But what I think is only that you were perhaps pleased to be in too great a hurry then. Forgive me, Your Excellency, I am judging according to my weak understanding. You have ordered me several times to speak frankly. When I was still a superior, sir, I had many workers, both bad and good . . . One also has to take a man's earlier life into account, because if you don't consider everything with equanimity, but start by yelling at him—you'll merely frighten him, and never obtain a real confession: but if you question him sympathetically, as brother to brother—he himself will speak it all out and won't even ask for leniency, and there won't be any bitterness against anyone, because he will see clearly that it is not I who am punishing him, but the law."

The prince lapsed into thought. At that moment a young official came in and stood deferentially, a portfolio in his hand. Care and travail showed on his young and still fresh face. One could see it was not for nothing that he served as a special agent. He belonged to the number of those few who do their clerical work con amove. Burning neither with ambition, nor with the desire for gain, nor with the imitation of others, he worked only because he was convinced that he had to be there and nowhere else, that life had been given him for that. To pursue, to analyze, and, having grasped all the threads of the most complicated case, to explain it—this was the thing for him. The labors, the efforts, the sleepless nights were abundantly rewarded if the case finally began to clarify itself before him, and the hidden causes revealed themselves, so that he felt he could convey the whole of it in a few words, clearly and distinctly, in such fashion that it would be obvious and understandable to anyone. It could be said that a student does not rejoice so much when some very difficult phrase and the true meaning of a great writer's thought are revealed to him, as he rejoiced when a very tangled case untangled itself before him. And yet. . . [xii]

"... by grain in those places where there is famine; I know these things better than the officials do: I'll look personally into who needs what. And, with Your Excellency's permission, I'll also talk a bit with the Old Believers. They'll be more willing to speak with their own kind, with simple folk. So, God knows, maybe I can help settle things peaceably with them. And I won't take any money from you, by God, it's shameful to think of one's own gain at a time like this, when people are dying of hunger. I have supplies of ready grain; I've just sent to Siberia, and by next summer they'll deliver more."

"God alone can reward you for such service, Afanasy Vassilyevich. And I will not say a single word, because—as you can feel yourself—no word is adequate here. But let me say one thing about your request. Tell me yourself: do I have the right to overlook this affair, and will it be just, will it be honest on my part to forgive the scoundrels?"

"Your Excellency, by God, you can't call them that, the less so as there are some quite worthy people among them. Man's circumstances are very difficult, Your Excellency, very, very difficult. It may so happen that a man seems thoroughly guilty; but once you go into it—it wasn't him at all."

"But what will they themselves say if I overlook it? Some of them will turn up their noses still more, and even say that they scared me. They'll be the first not to respect...”

"Your Excellency, allow me to give you my opinion: gather them all together, let them know that you are informed of everything and present to them your own position exactly as you have just now been pleased to present it to me, and ask their advice: what would each of them do in your place?"

"Do you really think they will understand the noblest impulses better than chicanery and opportunism? Believe me, they'll laugh at me."

"I don't think so, Your Excellency. The Russian man, even one who is worse than others, still has a sense of justice. Unless he's some sort of Jew, and not a Russian. No, Your Excellency, you have nothing to hide. Tell them exactly as you told me. For they denounce you as an ambitious and proud man who won't even listen to anything, so self-confident you are—so let them see it all as it is. What do you care? Your cause is right. Tell it to them as if you were bringing your confession not to them, but to God Himself."

"Afanasy Vassilyevich," the prince said, reflecting, "I'll think about it, and meanwhile I thank you very much for your advice."

"And order Chichikov's release, Your Excellency."

"Tell this Chichikov to take himself away from here as soon as possible, and the further the better. Him I can never forgive."

Murazov bowed and went straight from the prince to Chichikov. He found Chichikov already in good spirits, quite calmly occupied with a rather decent dinner that had been brought to him in covered dishes from some quite decent kitchen. From the first phrases of their conversation, the old man understood at once that Chichikov had already managed to talk with one or two of the pettifogging officials. He even understood that the invisible participation of the expert lawyer had interfered here.

"Listen, Pavel Ivanovich, sir," he said, "I am bringing you freedom, on condition that you leave town at once. Get all your belongings ready—and go with God, don't put it off for a moment, because things are worse than you think. I know, sir, that there's a man here who is inciting you; I tell you in secret that yet another case is developing here, and that no powers will save him. He is glad, of course, to drag others down, so as not to be bored, but things are getting sorted out. I left you in a good state of mind— better than you're in now. My advice is not offered lightly. By God, the point is not in this property, on account of which people argue and stab each other, as if one could have well-being in this life without thinking about the next. Believe me, Pavel Ivanovich, sir, until people abandon all that they wrangle over and eat each other for on earth, and think about the well-being of their spiritual property, there won't be any well-being of earthly property. There will be times of hunger and poverty, as much for all the people as for each one separately . . . That is clear, sir. Whatever you say, the body does depend on the soul. How then can you want things to go properly? Think not about dead souls, but about your living soul, and God help you on a different path! I, too, am leaving tomorrow. Hurry! or without me there will be trouble."

Having said this, the old man left. Chichikov fell to thinking. The meaning of life again seemed of no small importance. "Murazov is right," he said, "it's time for a different path!" Having said this, he left the prison. One sentry lugged the chest, another the suitcase with linen. Selifan and Petrushka were as glad of their master's deliverance as of God knows what.

"Well, my gentles," said Chichikov, addressing them benignly, "we must pack up and go."

"We'll get rolling, Pavel Ivanovich," said Selifan. "The road must have settled: there's been enough snow. It's time, truly, that we quit this town. I'm so sick of it I don't even want to look at it."

"Go to the carriage maker and have the carriage put on runners," said Chichikov, and he himself went to town, though he had no wish to pay farewell calls on anyone. It was awkward after all these happenings—the more so as there were many highly unfavorable stories about him going around town. He avoided meeting anyone and only stopped on the quiet to see that merchant from whom he had bought the cloth of the color of the flames and smoke of Navarino, bought another three yards for a tailcoat and trousers, and went to the same tailor. For double the price, the master undertook to increase his zeal, and kept the whole sewing populace sitting up all night working by candlelight with needles, irons, and teeth, so that the tailcoat was ready the next day, albeit a little late. The horses were all harnessed.