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Plato (see Appendix I) - "Lesser Hippias"

Thomas Nelson Page - "The Burial of the Guns"

Aldous Huxley - "Crome Yellow"

Ruth Ogden - "Tattine"

Dead Souls

N >> Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol >> Dead Souls




The foregoing constituted the most difficult step that our hero had to
negotiate. Thereafter things came with greater ease and swifter
success. Everywhere he attracted notice, for he developed within
himself everything necessary for this world--namely, charm of manner
and bearing, and great diligence in business matters. Armed with these
resources, he next obtained promotion to what is known as "a fat
post," and used it to the best advantage; and even though, at that
period, strict inquiry had begun to be made into the whole subject of
bribes, such inquiry failed to alarm him--nay, he actually turned it
to account and thereby manifested the Russian resourcefulness which
never fails to attain its zenith where extortion is concerned. His
method of working was the following. As soon as a petitioner or a
suitor put his hand into his pocket, to extract thence the necessary
letters of recommendation for signature, Chichikov would smilingly
exclaim as he detained his interlocutor's hand: "No, no! Surely you do
not think that I--? But no, no! It is our duty, it is our obligation,
and we do not require rewards for doing our work properly. So far as
YOUR matter is concerned, you may rest easy. Everything shall be
carried through to-morrow. But may I have your address? There is no
need to trouble yourself, seeing that the documents can easily be
brought to you at your residence." Upon which the delighted suitor
would return home in raptures, thinking: "Here, at long last, is the
sort of man so badly needed. A man of that kind is a jewel beyond
price." Yet for a day, for two days--nay, even for three--the suitor
would wait in vain so far as any messengers with documents were
concerned. Then he would repair to the office--to find that his
business had not so much as been entered upon! Lastly, he would
confront the "jewel beyond price." "Oh, pardon me, pardon me!"
Chichikov would exclaim in the politest of tones as he seized and
grasped the visitor's hands. "The truth is that we have SUCH a
quantity of business on hand! But the matter shall be put through
to-morrow, and in the meanwhile I am most sorry about it." And with
this would go the most fascinating of gestures. Yet neither on the
morrow, nor on the day following, nor on the third would documents
arrive at the suitor's abode. Upon that he would take thought as to
whether something more ought not to have been done; and, sure enough,
on his making inquiry, he would be informed that "something will have
to be given to the copyists." "Well, there can be no harm in that," he
would reply. "As a matter of fact, I have ready a tchetvertak[3] or
two." "Oh, no, no," the answer would come. "Not a tchetvertak per
copyist, but a rouble, is the fee." "What? A rouble per copyist?"
"Certainly. What is there to grumble at in that? Of the money the
copyists will receive a tchetvertak apiece, and the rest will go to
the Government." Upon that the disillusioned suitor would fly out upon
the new order of things brought about by the inquiry into illicit
fees, and curse both the tchinovniks and their uppish, insolent
behaviour. "Once upon a time," would the suitor lament, "one DID
know what to do. Once one had tipped the Director a bank-note, one's
affair was, so to speak, in the hat. But now one has to pay a rouble
per copyist after waiting a week because otherwise it was impossible
to guess how the wind might set! The devil fly away with all
'disinterested' and 'trustworthy' tchinovniks!" And certainly the
aggrieved suitor had reason to grumble, seeing that, now that
bribe-takers had ceased to exist, and Directors had uniformly become
men of honour and integrity, secretaries and clerks ought not with
impunity to have continued their thievish ways. In time there opened
out to Chichikov a still wider field, for a Commission was appointed
to supervise the erection of a Government building, and, on his being
nominated to that body, he proved himself one of its most active
members. The Commission got to work without delay, but for a space of
six years had some trouble with the building in question. Either the
climate hindered operations or the materials used were of the kind
which prevents official edifices from ever rising higher than the
basement. But, meanwhile, OTHER quarters of the town saw arise, for
each member of the Commission, a handsome house of the NON-official
style of architecture. Clearly the foundation afforded by the soil of
those parts was better than that where the Government building was
still engaged in hanging fire! Likewise the members of the Commission
began to look exceedingly prosperous, and to blossom out into family
life; and, for the first time in his existence, even Chichikov also
departed from the iron laws of his self-imposed restraint and
inexorable self-denial, and so far mitigated his heretofore asceticism
as to show himself a man not averse to those amenities which, during
his youth, he had been capable of renouncing. That is to say, certain
superfluities began to make their appearance in his establishment. He
engaged a good cook, took to wearing linen shirts, bought for himself
cloth of a pattern worn by no one else in the province, figured in
checks shot with the brightest of reds and browns, fitted himself out
with two splendid horses (which he drove with a single pair of reins,
added to a ring attachment for the trace horse), developed a habit of
washing with a sponge dipped in eau-de-Cologne, and invested in soaps
of the most expensive quality, in order to communicate to his skin a
more elegant polish.

[3] A silver quarter rouble.

But suddenly there appeared upon the scene a new Director--a military
man, and a martinet as regarded his hostility to bribe-takers and
anything which might be called irregular. On the very day after his
arrival he struck fear into every breast by calling for accounts,
discovering hosts of deficits and missing sums, and directing his
attention to the aforesaid fine houses of civilian architecture. Upon
that there ensued a complete reshuffling. Tchinovniks were retired
wholesale, and the houses were sequestrated to the Government, or else
converted into various pious institutions and schools for soldiers'
children. Thus the whole fabric, and especially Chichikov, came
crashing to the ground. Particularly did our hero's agreeable face
displease the new Director. Why that was so it is impossible to say,
but frequently, in cases of the kind, no reason exists. However, the
Director conceived a mortal dislike to him, and also extended that
enmity to the whole of Chichikov's colleagues. But inasmuch as the
said Director was a military man, he was not fully acquainted with the
myriad subtleties of the civilian mind; wherefore it was not long
before, by dint of maintaining a discreet exterior, added to a faculty
for humouring all and sundry, a fresh gang of tchinovniks succeeded in
restoring him to mildness, and the General found himself in the hands
of greater thieves than before, but thieves whom he did not even
suspect, seeing that he believed himself to have selected men fit and
proper, and even ventured to boast of possessing a keen eye for
talent. In a trice the tchinovniks concerned appraised his spirit and
character; with the result that the entire sphere over which he ruled
became an agency for the detection of irregularities. Everywhere, and
in every case, were those irregularities pursued as a fisherman
pursues a fat sturgeon with a gaff; and to such an extent did the
sport prove successful that almost in no time each participator in the
hunt was seen to be in possession of several thousand roubles of
capital. Upon that a large number of the former band of tchinovniks
also became converted to paths of rectitude, and were allowed to
re-enter the Service; but not by hook or by crook could Chichikov worm
his way back, even though, incited thereto by sundry items of paper
currency, the General's first secretary and principal bear leader did
all he could on our hero's behalf. It seemed that the General was the
kind of man who, though easily led by the nose (provided it was done
without his knowledge) no sooner got an idea into his head than it
stuck there like a nail, and could not possibly be extracted; and all
that the wily secretary succeeded in procuring was the tearing up of a
certain dirty fragment of paper--even that being effected only by an
appeal to the General's compassion, on the score of the unhappy fate
which, otherwise, would befall Chichikov's wife and children (who,
luckily, had no existence in fact).

"Well," said Chichikov to himself, "I have done my best, and now
everything has failed. Lamenting my misfortune won't help me, but only
action." And with that he decided to begin his career anew, and once
more to arm himself with the weapons of patience and self-denial. The
better to effect this, he had, of course to remove to another town.
Yet somehow, for a while, things miscarried. More than once he found
himself forced to exchange one post for another, and at the briefest
of notice; and all of them were posts of the meanest, the most
wretched, order. Yet, being a man of the utmost nicety of feeling, the
fact that he found himself rubbing shoulders with anything but nice
companions did not prevent him from preserving intact his innate love
of what was decent and seemly, or from cherishing the instinct which
led him to hanker after office fittings of lacquered wood, with
neatness and orderliness everywhere. Nor did he at any time permit a
foul word to creep into his speech, and would feel hurt even if in the
speech of others there occurred a scornful reference to anything which
pertained to rank and dignity. Also, the reader will be pleased to
know that our hero changed his linen every other day, and in summer,
when the weather was very hot, EVERY day, seeing that the very
faintest suspicion of an unpleasant odour offended his fastidiousness.
For the same reason it was his custom, before being valeted by
Petrushka, always to plug his nostrils with a couple of cloves. In
short, there were many occasions when his nerves suffered rackings as
cruel as a young girl's, and so helped to increase his disgust at
having once more to associate with men who set no store by the
decencies of life. Yet, though he braced himself to the task, this
period of adversity told upon his health, and he even grew a trifle
shabby. More than once, on happening to catch sight of himself in the
mirror, he could not forbear exclaiming: "Holy Mother of God, but what
a nasty-looking brute I have become!" and for a long while afterwards
could not with anything like sang-froid contemplate his reflection.
Yet throughout he bore up stoutly and patiently--and ended by being
transferred to the Customs Department. It may be said that the
department had long constituted the secret goal of his ambition, for
he had noted the foreign elegancies with which its officials always
contrived to provide themselves, and had also observed that invariably
they were able to send presents of china and cambric to their sisters
and aunts--well, to their lady friends generally. Yes, more than once
he had said to himself with a sigh: "THAT is the department to which
I ought to belong, for, given a town near the frontier, and a sensible
set of colleagues, I might be able to fit myself out with excellent
linen shirts." Also, it may be said that most frequently of all had
his thoughts turned towards a certain quality of French soap which
imparted a peculiar whiteness to the skin and a peerless freshness to
the cheeks. Its name is known to God alone, but at least it was to be
procured only in the immediate neighbourhood of the frontier. So, as I
say, Chichikov had long felt a leaning towards the Customs, but for a
time had been restrained from applying for the same by the various
current advantages of the Building Commission; since rightly he had
adjudged the latter to constitute a bird in the hand, and the former
to constitute only a bird in the bush. But now he decided that, come
what might, into the Customs he must make his way. And that way he
made, and then applied himself to his new duties with a zeal born of
the fact that he realised that fortune had specially marked him out
for a Customs officer. Indeed, such activity, perspicuity, and
ubiquity as his had never been seen or thought of. Within four weeks
at the most he had so thoroughly got his hand in that he was
conversant with Customs procedure in every detail. Not only could he
weigh and measure, but also he could divine from an invoice how many
arshins of cloth or other material a given piece contained, and then,
taking a roll of the latter in his hand, could specify at once the
number of pounds at which it would tip the scale. As for searchings,
well, even his colleagues had to admit that he possessed the nose of a
veritable bloodhound, and that it was impossible not to marvel at the
patience wherewith he would try every button of the suspected person,
yet preserve, throughout, a deadly politeness and an icy sang-froid
which surpass belief. And while the searched were raging, and foaming
at the mouth, and feeling that they would give worlds to alter his
smiling exterior with a good, resounding slap, he would move not a
muscle of his face, nor abate by a jot the urbanity of his demeanour,
as he murmured, "Do you mind so far incommoding yourself as to stand
up?" or "Pray step into the next room, madam, where the wife of one of
our staff will attend you," or "Pray allow me to slip this penknife of
mine into the lining of your coat" (after which he would extract
thence shawls and towels with as much nonchalance as he would have
done from his own travelling-trunk). Even his superiors acknowledged
him to be a devil at the job, rather than a human being, so perfect
was his instinct for looking into cart-wheels, carriage-poles, horses'
ears, and places whither an author ought not to penetrate even in
thought--places whither only a Customs official is permitted to go.
The result was that the wretched traveller who had just crossed the
frontier would, within a few minutes, become wholly at sea, and,
wiping away the perspiration, and breaking out into body flushes,
would be reduced to crossing himself and muttering, "Well, well,
well!" In fact, such a traveller would feel in the position of a
schoolboy who, having been summoned to the presence of the headmaster
for the ostensible purpose of being give an order, has found that he
receives, instead, a sound flogging. In short, for some time Chichikov
made it impossible for smugglers to earn a living. In particular, he
reduced Polish Jewry almost to despair, so invincible, so almost
unnatural, was the rectitude, the incorruptibility which led him to
refrain from converting himself into a small capitalist with the aid
of confiscated goods and articles which, "to save excessive clerical
labour," had failed to be handed over to the Government. Also, without
saying it goes that such phenomenally zealous and disinterested
service attracted general astonishment, and, eventually, the notice of
the authorities; whereupon he received promotion, and followed that up
by mooting a scheme for the infallible detection of contrabandists,
provided that he could be furnished with the necessary authority for
carrying out the same. At once such authority was accorded him, as
also unlimited power to conduct every species of search and
investigation. And that was all he wanted. It happened that previously
there had been formed a well-found association for smuggling on
regular, carefully prepared lines, and that this daring scheme seemed
to promise profit to the extent of some millions of money: yet, though
he had long had knowledge of it, Chichikov had said to the
association's emissaries, when sent to buy him over, "The time is not
yet." But now that he had got all the reins into his hands, he sent
word of the fact to the gang, and with it the remark, "The time is
NOW." Nor was he wrong in his calculations, for, within the space of
a year, he had acquired what he could not have made during twenty
years of non-fraudulent service. With similar sagacity he had, during
his early days in the department, declined altogether to enter into
relations with the association, for the reason that he had then been a
mere cipher, and would have come in for nothing large in the way of
takings; but now--well, now it was another matter altogether, and he
could dictate what terms he liked. Moreover, that the affair might
progress the more smoothly, he suborned a fellow tchinovnik of the
type which, in spite of grey hairs, stands powerless against
temptation; and, the contract concluded, the association duly
proceeded to business. Certainly business began brilliantly. But
probably most of my readers are familiar with the oft-repeated story
of the passage of Spanish sheep across the frontier in double fleeces
which carried between their outer layers and their inner enough lace
of Brabant to sell to the tune of millions of roubles; wherefore I
will not recount the story again beyond saying that those journeys
took place just when Chichikov had become head of the Customs, and
that, had he not a hand in the enterprise, not all the Jews in the
world could have brought it to success. By the time that three or four
of these ovine invasions had taken place, Chichikov and his accomplice
had come to be the possessors of four hundred thousand roubles apiece;
while some even aver that the former's gains totalled half a million,
owing to the greater industry which he had displayed in the matter.
Nor can any one but God say to what a figure the fortunes of the pair
might not eventually have attained, had not an awkward contretemps cut
right across their arrangements. That is to say, for some reason or
another the devil so far deprived these tchinovnik-conspirators of
sense as to make them come to words with one another, and then to
engage in a quarrel. Beginning with a heated argument, this quarrel
reached the point of Chichikov--who was, possibly, a trifle
tipsy--calling his colleague a priest's son; and though that
description of the person so addressed was perfectly accurate, he
chose to take offence, and to answer Chichikov with the words (loudly
and incisively uttered), "It is YOU who have a priest for your
father," and to add to that (the more to incense his companion), "Yes,
mark you! THAT is how it is." Yet, though he had thus turned the
tables upon Chichikov with a tu quoque, and then capped that exploit
with the words last quoted, the offended tchinovnik could not remain
satisfied, but went on to send in an anonymous document to the
authorities. On the other hand, some aver that it was over a woman
that the pair fell out--over a woman who, to quote the phrase then
current among the staff of the Customs Department, was "as fresh and
as strong as the pulp of a turnip," and that night-birds were hired to
assault our hero in a dark alley, and that the scheme miscarried, and
that in any case both Chichikov and his friend had been deceived,
seeing that the person to whom the lady had really accorded her
favours was a certain staff-captain named Shamsharev. However, only
God knows the truth of the matter. Let the inquisitive reader ferret
it out for himself. The fact remains that a complete exposure of the
dealings with the contrabandists followed, and that the two
tchinovniks were put to the question, deprived of their property, and
made to formulate in writing all that they had done. Against this
thunderbolt of fortune the State Councillor could make no headway, and
in some retired spot or another sank into oblivion; but Chichikov put
a brave face upon the matter, for, in spite of the authorities' best
efforts to smell out his gains, he had contrived to conceal a portion
of them, and also resorted to every subtle trick of intellect which
could possibly be employed by an experienced man of the world who has
a wide knowledge of his fellows. Nothing which could be effected by
pleasantness of demeanour, by moving oratory, by clouds of flattery,
and by the occasional insertion of a coin into a palm did he leave
undone; with the result that he was retired with less ignominy than
was his companion, and escaped actual trial on a criminal charge. Yet
he issued stripped of all his capital, stripped of his imported
effects, stripped of everything. That is to say, all that remained to
him consisted of ten thousand roubles which he had stored against a
rainy day, two dozen linen shirts, a small britchka of the type used
by bachelors, and two serving-men named Selifan and Petrushka. Yes,
and an impulse of kindness moved the tchinovniks of the Customs also
to set aside for him a few cakes of the soap which he had found so
excellent for the freshness of the cheeks. Thus once more our hero
found himself stranded. And what an accumulation of misfortunes had
descended upon his head!--though, true, he termed them "suffering in
the Service in the cause of Truth." Certainly one would have thought
that, after these buffetings and trials and changes of fortune--after
this taste of the sorrows of life--he and his precious ten thousand
roubles would have withdrawn to some peaceful corner in a provincial
town, where, clad in a stuff dressing-gown, he could have sat and
listened to the peasants quarrelling on festival days, or (for the
sake of a breath of fresh air) have gone in person to the poulterer's
to finger chickens for soup, and so have spent a quiet, but not wholly
useless, existence; but nothing of the kind took place, and therein we
must do justice to the strength of his character. In other words,
although he had undergone what, to the majority of men, would have
meant ruin and discouragement and a shattering of ideals, he still
preserved his energy. True, downcast and angry, and full of resentment
against the world in general, he felt furious with the injustice of
fate, and dissatisfied with the dealings of men; yet he could not
forbear courting additional experiences. In short, the patience which
he displayed was such as to make the wooden persistency of the
German--a persistency merely due to the slow, lethargic circulation of
the Teuton's blood--seem nothing at all, seeing that by nature
Chichikov's blood flowed strongly, and that he had to employ much
force of will to curb within himself those elements which longed to
burst forth and revel in freedom. He thought things over, and, as he
did so, a certain spice of reason appeared in his reflections.

"How have I come to be what I am?" he said to himself. "Why has
misfortune overtaken me in this way? Never have I wronged a poor
person, or robbed a widow, or turned any one out of doors: I have
always been careful only to take advantage of those who possess more
than their share. Moreover, I have never gleaned anywhere but where
every one else was gleaning; and, had I not done so, others would have
gleaned in my place. Why, then, should those others be prospering, and
I be sunk as low as a worm? What am I? What am I good for? How can I,
in future, hope to look any honest father of a family in the face? How
shall I escape being tortured with the thought that I am cumbering the
ground? What, in the years to come, will my children say, save that
'our father was a brute, for he left us nothing to live upon?'"

Here I may remark that we have seen how much thought Chichikov devoted
to his future descendants. Indeed, had not there been constantly
recurring to his mind the insistent question, "What will my children
say?" he might not have plunged into the affair so deeply.
Nevertheless, like a wary cat which glances hither and thither to see
whether its mistress be not coming before it can make off with
whatsoever first falls to its paw (butter, fat, lard, a duck, or
anything else), so our future founder of a family continued, though
weeping and bewailing his lot, to let not a single detail escape his
eye. That is to say, he retained his wits ever in a state of activity,
and kept his brain constantly working. All that he required was a
plan. Once more he pulled himself together, once more he embarked upon
a life of toil, once more he stinted himself in everything, once more
he left clean and decent surroundings for a dirty, mean existence. In
other words, until something better should turn up, he embraced the
calling of an ordinary attorney--a calling which, not then possessed
of a civic status, was jostled on very side, enjoyed little respect
at the hands of the minor legal fry (or, indeed, at its own), and
perforce met with universal slights and rudeness. But sheer necessity
compelled Chichikov to face these things. Among commissions entrusted
to him was that of placing in the hands of the Public Trustee several
hundred peasants who belonged to a ruined estate. The estate had
reached its parlous condition through cattle disease, through rascally
bailiffs, through failures of the harvest, through such epidemic
diseases that had killed off the best workmen, and, last, but not
least, through the senseless conduct of the owner himself, who had
furnished a house in Moscow in the latest style, and then squandered
his every kopeck, so that nothing was left for his further
maintenance, and it became necessary to mortgage the
remains--including the peasants--of the estate. In those days mortgage
to the Treasury was an innovation looked upon with reserve, and, as
attorney in the matter, Chichikov had first of all to "entertain"
every official concerned (we know that, unless that be previously
done, unless a whole bottle of madeira first be emptied down each
clerical throat, not the smallest legal affair can be carried
through), and to explain, for the barring of future attachments, that
half of the peasants were dead.

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