CHAPTER XV.
AN AVERAGE STATESMAN.
Count Ivan Michaelovitch had been a minister, and was a man of
strong convictions. The convictions of Count Ivan Michaelovitch
consisted in the belief that, just as it was natural for a bird
to feed on worms, to be clothed in feathers and down, and to fly
in the air, so it was natural for him to feed on the choicest and
most expensive food, prepared by highly-paid cooks, to wear the
most comfortable and most expensive clothing, to drive with the
best and fastest horses, and that, therefore, all these things
should be ready found for him. Besides this, Count Ivan
Michaelovitch considered that the more money he could get out of
the treasury by all sorts of means, the more orders he had,
including different diamond insignia of something or other, and
the oftener he spoke to highly-placed individuals of both sexes,
so much the better it was.
All the rest Count Ivan Michaelovitch considered insignificant
and uninteresting beside these dogmas. All the rest might be as
it was, or just the reverse. Count Ivan Michaelovitch lived and
acted according to these lights for 40 years, and at the end of
40 years reached the position of a Minister of State. The chief
qualities that enabled Count Ivan Michaelovitch to reach this
position were his capacity of understanding the meaning of
documents and laws and of drawing up, though clumsily,
intelligible State papers, and of spelling them correctly;
secondly, his very stately appearance, which enabled him, when
necessary, to seem not only extremely proud, but unapproachable
and majestic, while at other times he could be abjectly and
almost passionately servile; thirdly, the absence of any general
principles or rules, either of personal or administrative
morality, which made it possible for him either to agree or
disagree with anybody according to what was wanted at the time.
When acting thus his only endeavour was to sustain the appearance
of good breeding and not to seem too plainly inconsistent. As for
his actions being moral or not, in themselves, or whether they
were going to result in the highest welfare or greatest evil for
the whole of the Russian Empire, or even the entire world, that
was quite indifferent to him. When he became minister, not only
those dependent on him (and there were great many of them) and
people connected with him, but many strangers and even he himself
were convinced that he was a very clever statesman. But after
some time had elapsed and he had done nothing and had nothing to
show, and when in accordance with the law of the struggle for
existence others, like himself, who had learnt to write and
understand documents, stately and unprincipled officials, had
displaced him, he turned out to be not only far from clever but
very limited and badly educated. Though self-assured, his views
hardly reaching the level of those in the leading articles of the
Conservative papers, it became apparent that there was nothing in
him to distinguish him from those other badly-educated and
self-assured officials who had pushed him out, and he himself saw
it. But this did not shake his conviction that he had to receive
a great deal of money out of the Treasury every year, and new
decorations for his dress clothes. This conviction was so firm
that no one had the pluck to refuse these things to him, and he
received yearly, partly in form of a pension, partly as a salary
for being a member in a Government institution and chairman of
all sorts of committees and councils, several tens of thousands
of roubles, besides the right--highly prized by him--of sewing
all sorts of new cords to his shoulders and trousers, and ribbons
to wear under and enamel stars to fix on to his dress coat. In
consequence of this Count Ivan Michaelovitch had very high
connections.
Count Ivan Michaelovitch listened to Nekhludoff as he was wont to
listen to the reports of the permanent secretary of his
department, and, having heard him, said he would give him two
notes, one to the Senator Wolff, of the Appeal Department. "All
sorts of things are reported of him, but dans tous les cas c'est
un homme tres comme ii faut," he said. "He is indebted to me, and
will do all that is possible." The other note Count Ivan
Michaelovitch gave Nekhludoff was to an influential member of the
Petition Committee. The story of Theodosia Birukoff as told by
Nekhludoff interested him very much. When Nekhludoff said that he
thought of writing to the Empress, the Count replied that it
certainly was a very touching story, and might, if occasion
presented itself, be told her, but he could not promise. Let the
petition be handed in in due form.
Should there be an opportunity, and if a petit comite were called
on Thursday, he thought he would tell her the story. As soon as
Nekhludoff had received these two notes, and a note to Mariette
from his aunt, he at once set off to these different places.
First he went to Mariette's. He had known her as a half-grown
girl, the daughter of an aristocratic but not wealthy family, and
had heard how she had married a man who was making a career, whom
Nekhludoff had heard badly spoken of; and, as usual, he felt it
hard to ask a favour of a man he did not esteem. In these cases
he always felt an inner dissension and dissatisfaction, and
wavered whether to ask the favour or not, and always resolved to
ask. Besides feeling himself in a false position among those to
whose set he no longer regarded himself as belonging, who yet
regarded him as belonging to them, he felt himself getting into
the old accustomed rut, and in spite of himself fell into the
thoughtless and immoral tone that reigned in that circle. He felt
that from the first, with his aunt, he involuntarily fell into a
bantering tone while talking about serious matters.
Petersburg in general affected him with its usual physically
invigorating and mentally dulling effect.
Everything so clean, so comfortably well-arranged and the people
so lenient in moral matters, that life seemed very easy.
A fine, clean, and polite isvostchik drove him past fine, clean,
polite policemen, along the fine, clean, watered streets, past
fine, clean houses to the house in which Mariette lived. At the
front door stood a pair of English horses, with English harness,
and an English-looking coachman on the box, with the lower part
of his face shaved, proudly holding a whip. The doorkeeper,
dressed in a wonderfully clean livery, opened the door into the
hall, where in still cleaner livery with gold cords stood the
footman with his splendid whiskers well combed out, and the
orderly on duty in a brand-new uniform. "The general does not
receive, and the generaless does not receive either. She is just
going to drive out."
Nekhludoff took out Katerina Ivanovna's letter, and going up to a
table on which lay a visitors' book, began to write that he was
sorry not to have been able to see any one; when the footman went
up the staircase the doorkeeper went out and shouted to the
coachman, and the orderly stood up rigid with his arms at his
sides following with his eyes a little, slight lady, who was
coming down the stairs with rapid steps not in keeping with all
the grandeur.
Mariette had a large hat on, with feathers, a black dress and
cape, and new black gloves. Her face was covered by a veil.
When she saw Nekhludoff she lifted the veil off a very pretty
face with bright eyes that looked inquiringly at him.
"Ah, Prince Dmitri Ivanovitch Nekhludoff," she said, with a soft,
pleasant voice. "I should have known--"
"What! you even remember my name?"
"I should think so. Why, I and my sisters have even been in love
with you," she said, in French. "But, dear me, how you have
altered. Oh, what a pity I have to go out. But let us go up
again," she said and stopped hesitatingly. Then she looked at the
clock. "No, I can't. I am going to Kamenskaya's to attend a mass
for the dead. She is terribly afflicted."
"Who is this Kamenskaya?"
"Have you not heard? Her son was killed in a duel. He fought
Posen. He was the only son. Terrible I The mother is very much
afflicted."
"Yes. I have heard of it."
"No, I had better go, and you must come again, to-night or
to-morrow," she said, and went to the door with quick, light
steps.
"I cannot come to-night," he said, going out after her; "but I
have a request to make you," and he looked at the pair of bays
that were drawing up to the front door.
"What is this?"
"This is a letter from aunt to you," said Nekhludoff, handing her
a narrow envelope, with a large crest. "You'll find all about it
in there."
"I know Countess Katerina Ivanovna thinks I have some influence
with my husband in business matters. She is mistaken. I can do
nothing and do not like to interfere. But, of course, for you I
am willing to be false to my principle. What is this business
about?" she said, searching in vain for her pocket with her
little black gloved hand.
"There is a girl imprisoned in the fortress, and she is ill and
innocent."
"What is her name?"
"Lydia Shoustova. It's in the note."
"All right; I'll see what I can do," she said, and lightly jumped
into her little, softly upholstered, open carriage, its
brightly-varnished splash-guards glistening in the sunshine, and
opened her parasol. The footman got on the box and gave the
coachman a sign. The carriage moved, but at that moment she
touched the coachman with her parasol and the slim-legged
beauties, the bay mares, stopped, bending their beautiful necks
and stepping from foot to foot.
"But you must come, only, please, without interested motives,"
and she looked at him with a smile, the force of which she well
knew, and, as if the performance over and she were drawing the
curtain, she dropped the veil over her face again. "All right,"
and she again touched the coachman.
Nekhludoff raised his hat, and the well-bred bays, slightly
snorting, set off, their shoes clattering on the pavement, and
the carriage rolled quickly and smoothly on its new rubber tyres,
giving a jump only now and then over some unevenness of the road.
