20–26 July 1857

Got up at 3.30. Went for a walk. A wonder- ful sun slowly rising between clouds. The Lake of Zurich is dull. Went there tired, and back to Rapersch- ville, to Zurich, and to the steamboat. Read. Am morose because I am ill. . . . Am all the time angry with the travellers and the waiters, but I control myself.

Got up at six. Have rested, but seem still to have a pain in the groin. That is why I am sad all day, besides which this Zurich hotel is not gemiitlich. Wrote about two sheets of The Cossack. I am certainly too desultory and therefore shan’t achieve anything. Went to the Institute for the blind and the deaf and dumb. Nothing striking or touching, but much affectation and falsehood. Suddenly started for Schaffhausen. En route a couple of French lovers ; she began crying. I thought" of (3serov and the inevitable French “ pauvre nitre”.1 Visited the literary cabinet. On the way the sky from behind the cliff and the vineyards were fine, as also were the silence and the pears. In the evening in the railway carriage, a pig making a noise. The fall of the Rhine is fine. The town dull. . . .

Schaffhausen. Got up at six and bathed. The dog has still not turned up and I was cross. Wrote just a little of The Cossack and went to the waterfall. Not a normal sight, and it conveys nothing to me. Dined at Bellevue. A nice little German woman. Prepared to go and was stupidly irritated, and scolded the owner of the steamboat. A commonplace but kindly conservative Hanoverian officer. Some young Englishmen who don’t know their own literature and smile at my barbarism. A Cuirassier officer who has travelled all over Europe. I must marry. The squadron. The memory of the squadron makes me dreadfully gloomy and produces something like remorse. Four beefsteaks — all fools — there is something good about such solidity. A pleasant restaurant. Madame is une canaille. Friedrichshaffen.

Got up at seven, bathed. Went to the Summer Palace. A charming poverty, and disgusting affectation and sycophancy. Frau von Stael . Started for Stuttgart. An old man talked to me about Wiirtem- berg. A German Piedmont. Swabia “ Jrei und furcht- los”. A red-haired Englishman, a nice fellow. Read Bronte. Wrote nothing all day. Reached Stuttgart — the first persons I saw were the First Class Schaffhausen lovers. Went to the palace, to the church, and to the baths — none of which conveyed anything to me. Am going to bed* Am in pain. I think splendidly while reading. Something quite contrasted : The Cossack , wild, fresh like a ’Bible legend ; and The Outlying Field, very lively drollery. Must concentrate the types, sharply define them all. Saw the moon well to my right. Most important, the idea jame clearly and strongly into my head of starting a school in my own village for the whole district, and of general activity of that kind. Above all, continuous activity.

Got up at four and started for the railway. My fellow-passengers were, first an Englishman, probably a waiter and commercial traveller. Next a Frenchman, Ogier — a banker who has been to Paris — travelled with him to Baden. Korsakova’s son, Gorchakdv, Samdrin, and that \t-hoIe crowd of stupid, empty, young fellows. Poldnski is kind and nice but I was not thinking of him. I was constantly running to the roulette. Lost a little. A dinner at Smirnova’s.* . . . The Frenchman is amiable. He Jias written about Russia. He is a banker and wants to become a diputi.

Roulette from morning till night. Lost, but won ,at night. Went to Smirnova and the Alsufyevs (Vasili Dmitrievich). She chattered a lot ; I never saw worse manners. At home the Frenchman with his. . . .

Ill since morning. Roulette till six. Lost everything. Dined at home, quite ill. In the evening looked on at all this depraved confusion pretty calmly, but am ill and weak. The young fellows in white neck- ties avoid me. Went home, and the Frenchman would not let me sleep till three o’clock. Jabbered about his political plans, about poetry, and about love. Awful ! I would rather be noseless, stinking, goitred, the most terrible cretin or disgusting monster, than be such a moral abortion.