31 August–6 September 1857

Decided to go to Pirogdvo with V. Gorchakdv, but for a lark went hunting, and hunted down two foxes and two hares, but by falling off my horse let one big fox escape. Dined. Reached Pirogdvo at eleven. They were at supper. Turgenev is still there.

Got up at 9 feeling broken and with throat aching. Read Kozldv ; Thoughts are good. The audacity is forced — that is his great defect Gadded about with the children all day and did nothing. Mdsha went to a ball among her peasants and I went with the children. Shameful and painful !

Got up early, tried to write. Can’t get on with The Cossack. Read a stupid French novel. Rode out after dinner. Am quite well. Mashenka’s nature is egotistic, spoilt, ^nd narrow. Wrote to my brothers.

Wrote to Valerian and to Geneva. . . . Ro^ijipto Yasnaya but found nothing. The sale of the forests is beginning. Have no money. My youth is past ! I mention this as something good. I am calm and want nothing. I even write calmly. It is only now that I have understood that it is not the life around one that must be arranged symmetrically as one wants it, but that one mustfcreak oneself up, make oneself pliable so as to adapt oneself tb any life.

Got up early, digestion not quite right, but feel extremely fresh. Horrors in the law-court, at the police-master’s, and at the sale of the forests. Rode to the forest and hunted. Gave Sasha his freedom, and came to terms with him and with Fedor. The Ars&ievs have invit§d me. Went to the Gfmbuts’. The sister is appetis- ing. At the Arsenevs’ everything is as of old — one might begin o\Per again. She is kindly, but the emptiest of girls.

From early morning attended to business on the estate. It was even pleasant at the barn. That shows how I am hardening. Looked at A. Rode to the police- station. Feel a throbbing at the back of my head . . . and sleep restlessly. Went to Baburino. A ball, Marsdsh- nikov who used to be comme il jaut> is weak, probably kind, but boundlessly mean. His brother-in-law corrects him, and his little eyes glitter with cupidity His smelly wife has beautiful eyes. After a pompous dinner I sug- gested blind-man’s buff, and everybody cheered up and perspired. Returned home late.

Again estate business which preoccupies #me€nuch. B-ode out with the dogs but found nothing — and it was dull. Dined alone. Tried to read Hacklander, * horrid, mal fait and talentless. About my own writings have concluded that my chief fault is timidity. One must be bold. In the evening wrote two sheets of The Demented. Slept badly. . . .