Almost two months had passed. The hot summer was half over, but

Sergey Ivanovitch was only just preparing to leave Moscow.

Sergey Ivanovitch's life had not been uneventful during this

time. A year ago he had finished his book, the fruit of six

years' labor, "Sketch of a Survey of the Principles and Forms of

Government in Europe and Russia." Several sections of this book

and its introduction had appeared in periodical publications, and

other parts had been read by Sergey Ivanovitch to persons of his

circle, so that the leading ideas of the work could not be

completely novel to the public. But still Sergey Ivanovitch had

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expected that on its appearance his book would be sure to make a

serious impression on society, and if it did not cause a

revolution in social science it would, at any rate, make a great

stir in the scientific world.

After the most conscientious revision the book had last year been

published, and had been distributed among the booksellers.

Though he asked no one about it, reluctantly and with feigned

indifference answered his friends' inquiries as to how the book

was going, and did not even inquire of the booksellers how the

book was selling, Sergey Ivanovitch was all on the alert, with

strained attention, watching for the first impression his book

would make in the world and in literature.

But a week passed, a second, a third, and in society no

impression whatever could be detected. His friends who were

specialists and savants, occasionally--unmistakably from

politeness--alluded to it. The rest of his acquaintances, not

interested in a book on a learned subject, did not talk of it at

all. And society generally--just now especially absorbed in

other things--was absolutely indifferent. In the press, too, for

a whole month there was not a word about his book.

Sergey Ivanovitch had calculated to a nicety the time necessary

for writing a review, but a month passed, and a second, and still

there was silence.

Only in the _Northern Beetle_, in a comic article on the singer

Drabanti, who had lost his voice, there was a contemptuous

allusion to Koznishev's book, suggesting that the book had been

long ago seen through by everyone, and was a subject of general

ridicule.

At last in the third month a critical article appeared in a

serious review. Sergey Ivanovitch knew the author of the

article. He had met him once at Golubtsov's.

The author of the article was a young man, an invalid, very bold

as a writer, but extremely deficient in breeding and shy in

personal relations.

In spite of his absolute contempt for the author, it was with

complete respect that Sergey Ivanovitch set about reading the

article. The article was awful.




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