10–16 August 1857

Feel well, easy. Don’t remember any- thing. Played cards. Mordvmova is a disgusting, hypocritical liberal. Sat up late chatting with the Annen- kovs, Mordvlnovs, and Pushchin. The old man’s chatter became tiresome.

Chatter all day, and had a feeling of dis- appointment in the happiness I expected. At dinner an acrimonious dispute between Serezha and Masha.

Health better. The monk, the governess, and even Auntie, upset our little circle. Masha told us about Turgenev. I am afraid of them both. Serezha is touching in his perplexity. Returned home. Tenshfnov, whose home was burnt down four days ago, drove me. He is seventy, romances, is kindly, and is a rogue. He sat beside me. An angry official gave him a beating because our conveyances got interlocked. I wished to give him 25 rubles, but a mean doubt deprived me of that pleasure. A letter from Pegot-Ogier.

Cards again. Arrived at two o’clock. I borrowed money awkwardly from Ptfshchin. Found no one but the Kolb^sins in Petersburg. Have no money. Went to Nekrasov. Disgusting stupidity — I said nothing about money.

Got up at nine ; throat better. Did some business not badly, looked over the books, read a little of Bronte. Wrote to Ogier, Kolbdsin, and Nekrasov. The piano takes up time. Wrote a sheet of The Cossack easily in the evening. Went to the bath-house. Cold, rainy. Have to exert efforts to avoid idleness and to avoid excessive zeal.

Morning with the contractor ; sent the Elder off. Am awfully lazy and am falling into the old rut. Rode out with the dogs ; my health is better. Read a little of Bronte. Wrote a letter to Turgenev. Began allowing the domestic serfs to buy their freedom.

Got up at nine. Health is better Rain- ing all day. Sent money to Ttfla for Nekrisov, and sent to Pirogovo to get money. Wrote a very little, played, and read Bronte ; in the evening I — I — hindered me. Terrible laziness.

^Nothing all day. Read the Iliad. That’s the thing ! A marvel ! Wrote to Ryabfnin. Must alter the whole of the Cossack tale. Few of the serfs wish to be relea^d on quit-rent. Had a letter from Zelde.

In the morning Vasili Dav^dkin. Gave him 3 rubles. The Iliad. Good, but not more. Went for a walk round the mills, thought about work on the estate. Prince Engalychev — cunning, stupid, uneducated, but good-natured. Rode out and killed a hare. At home attended to estate business. Wrote a little note to Auntie. Increased the Elder’s wages. Sensuality again torments me. Laziness, boredom, and sadness. Everything seems useless. The ideal is unattainable ; I have already ruined myself. Work, a small reputation, money. What for ? Means of enjoyment — again, what for ? Soon an eternal night. It always seems to me that I shall soon die. Too lazy to write in detail ; should like always to write in letters of fire. Love. Am thinking of a novel of that kind.