30 March–5 April 1857

Obofenski has decided to leave by himself. Marguerite came to Serezha and they were at Demaison’s. I went for a walk. Have found a small lodging. Dined with Serezha and saw him off. Impossible futility and helplessness ! Our development is so different that we cannot live together, though I am very fond of him. Went to a concert. The Alsiifyevs, husband and wife, seem to feel the impression they have made on me. The Largo was delightful. Returned home cheerful and tranquil ; a lady confused me, I went to her lodging but remained firm. The debauchery is terrible.

My side aches. Since morning have had no Edouard Laboulaye, professor of Comparative Jurisprudence in the College de France. One of his best stories is Le Prince Came he. peace from the bell-ringing. D. Kolbshin came, I went to walk with him and also by myself. Returned, bath, dinner ; Mrs. Fitz James came. James Demaison bothered. I was cupped. Wrote a sheet. My side is better, am going to bed.

My side is better ; have a regular cold. Turgenev woke me. . . . Koloshin turned up with some- one else and a specialist, who bothered me till dinner-time. Registered at Kiselev’s and worked a little. Dined upstairs with Turgenev. Fitz James said, u qu'on riest jamais aussi vicieux qu'on voudrait Vetre ”, and when we all laughed she added, “ Dame , e'est si naturel ! ” An Italian Tavbrino. Wrote a little and went to a concert, Botesini and all sorts of nastiness. Only Viardot and Ristori were very remarkable, expecially the former. Sat with Turgbnev in a cafe. Am thinking of starting on several things at once : The Outlying Field , and Youth , and The Fugitive .

Got up at twelve. Began writing rather lazily. Read Balzac. Bricon was admitted ; I went out to get rid of him and returned at five. Read Mirra in Italian. Dinner upstairs. Went to see Ristori ; u. single poetic movement compensates for the falsity of five Acts. Racine’s drama and the like are Europe’s poetic wound. Thank God we have not got it and shall not have it. At home wrote a sheet. Going to bed towards two in the morning.

Got up at ten. Wrote a little of The Demented and a letter to Botkin. Turgbnev dropped in. Went to the races with Demaison. Depression of which I cannot rid myself. Dined in rue Laffitte. Foolishly went to Passe - Temps and came away muzzy. Crowds of Russians ; Rydmin, Zherebtsov, Bogolyubov, and Verev- kin. I was disenchanted. No poetry and no poetic tradition. Was foolish enough to have supper, returned after one, fell asleep towards three, and to-day —