Youth | Page 3

minute--I will become another being, and begin to
live differently!" For all that, I continued sitting on the window-sill,
continued merely dreaming, and doing nothing. Have you ever, on a
summer's day, gone to bed in dull, rainy weather, and, waking just at
sunset, opened your eyes and seen through the square space of the
window--the space where the linen blind is blowing up and down, and
beating its rod upon the window-sill--the rain-soaked, shadowy, purple
vista of an avenue of lime-trees, with a damp garden path lit up by the
clear, slanting beams of the sun, and then suddenly heard the joyous
sounds of bird life in the garden, and seen insects flying to and fro at
the open window, and glittering in the sunlight, and smelt the fragrance
of the rain-washed air, and thought to yourself, "Am I not ashamed to
be lying in bed on such an evening as this?" and, leaping joyously to
your feet, gone out into the garden and revelled in all that welter of life?
If you have, then you can imagine for yourself the overpowering
sensation which was then possessing me.
III
DREAMS
"To-day I will make my confession and purge myself of every sin," I
thought to myself. "Nor will I ever commit another one." At this point I
recalled all the peccadilloes which most troubled my conscience. "I will
go to church regularly every Sunday, as well as read the Gospel at the
close of every hour throughout the day. What is more, I will set aside,

out of the cheque which I shall receive each month after I have gone to
the University, two-and- a-half roubles" (a tenth of my monthly
allowance) "for people who are poor but not exactly beggars, yet
without letting any one know anything about it. Yes, I will begin to
look out for people like that--orphans or old women--at once, yet never
tell a soul what I am doing for them.
"Also, I will have a room here of my very own (St. Jerome's, probably),
and look after it myself, and keep it perfectly clean. I will never let any
one do anything for me, for every one is just a human being like myself.
Likewise I will walk every day, not drive, to the University. Even if
some one gives me a drozhki [Russian phaeton.] I will sell it, and
devote the money to the poor. Everything I will do exactly and always"
(what that "always" meant I could not possibly have said, but at least I
had a vivid consciousness of its connoting some kind of prudent, moral,
and irreproachable life). "I will get up all my lectures thoroughly, and
go over all the subjects beforehand, so that at the end of my first course
I may come out top and write a thesis. During my second course also I
will get up everything beforehand, so that I may soon be transferred to
the third course, and at eighteen come out top in the examinations, and
receive two gold medals, and go on to be Master of Arts, and Doctor,
and the first scholar in Europe. Yes, in all Europe I mean to be the first
scholar.--Well, what next?" I asked myself at this point. Suddenly it
struck me that dreams of this sort were a form of pride--a sin which I
should have to confess to the priest that very evening, so I returned to
the original thread of my meditations. "When getting up my lectures I
will go to the Vorobievi Gori, [Sparrow Hills--a public park near
Moscow.] and choose some spot under a tree, and read my lectures
over there. Sometimes I will take with me something to eat--cheese or a
pie from Pedotti's, or something of the kind. After that I will sleep a
little, and then read some good book or other, or else draw pictures or
play on some instrument (certainly I must learn to play the flute).
Perhaps SHE too will be walking on the Vorobievi Gori, and will
approach me one day and say, 'Who are you?' and I shall look at her, oh,
so sadly, and say that I am the son of a priest, and that I am happy only
when I am there alone, quite alone. Then she will give me her hand,
and say something to me, and sit down beside me. So every day we

shall go to the same spot, and be friends together, and I shall kiss her.
But no! That would not be right! On the contrary, from this day
forward I never mean to look at a woman again. Never, never again do
I mean to walk with a girl, nor even to go near one if I can help it. Yet,
of course, in three years'