ideal. When they started for Petersburg they did not realise that their childhood was over, that they were entering a new world.19
19 My uncle Andrey tells us in his remimscences that my grandfather never allowed his sons to go out alone and never gave them any money. He watched over their conduct most jealously; flirtation, even of the most innocent kind, was tolerated. The young Puritans never dared to speak of women save in ven Of course, their modesty must have been a source of great amusement to their comrades in the School of Engineers, for the amorous adventures of the young Russian begin early. Dostoyevsky, for his part, must have suffered a good deal from the cynicism of his young comrades. When in The Brothers Karamazov my father described Aliosha stopping his ears in ordeer not to hear the obscene talk of his schoolfellows, he was probaly drawing on his own experiences.
During the journey from Moscow to Petersburg which lasted several days,20 the young Dostoyevsky continued to dream. " My brother and I," says father, " dreamed of the great and the beautiful. The words sounded magnificent to us. We used them without irony. How many fine words of the same order we repeated in those days ! We had a passionate belief in I know not what, and, although we knew all the difficulties of mathematical examinations, we could only think of poetry and poets. My brother wrote poems, and I was writing a Venetian romance."
20 There were no railways in those days. Travellers went the stage-coach, or in a troika, which often took nearly a we to get from Moscow to Petersburg.
A great misfortune awaited the young dreamers in Petersburg. Though he had obtained two nominations for his sons at the School of Engineers, my grandfather was only able to place his son Fyodor there. Mihail was pronounced too delicate to study in the capital and the authorities sent him with some other yout to Reval, where the School of Engineers had a kind of annexe. My father's despair at this separation from his adored brother was immeasurable. He suffered the more because, when his father had returned to Moscow he was left utterly alone, without friends relations. He was a boarder, and, as he knew no one in the city, he had to spend all his holidays at school.21 The School of Engineers was in the ancient palace of lul, where the unhappy Emperor had been murdered, is in the best quarter of the town, opposite the Summer arden, on the banks of the Fontanka river. The rooms are large and light, full of air and sunshine. One could have wished no better domicile for one's children; as a doctor my grandfather realised the important part played by space and light in the physical education of young people. Nevertheless, my father was not happy at the Engineers' Castle.22 He disliked the life in common with the other pupils, and the mathematical sciences he had to study were repellent to his poetic soul. Obedient to his father's wishes, he did his work conscientiously, but his heart was not in it. He spent his spare time seated in the embrasure of a window, watching the flowing river, admiring the trees of the ark, dreaming and reading. . . . Scarcely had he suitted his father's house, when the Lithuanian unciablity took possession of him; he felt himself ttracted by solitude. His new companions did not attract him. They were for the most part the sons of colonels23 and generals, who were commanding the garrisons in the various provincial towns.
21 When he placed his son at school in Petersburg, my grand-ither had counted on the kindness of his relative, General Mvopichin, who held an important administrative post. But iivopichin disliked his Moscow kinsman, and would do nothing )r his son. However, after the death of my grandfather, the ieneral remembered his obligations; he went to see my father t the School of Engineers, and invited him to his house. Dos-)yevsky, who was eighteen by this time, soon became a favourite ith all the Krivopichin family, of whom he speaks affectionately I his letters to his brother MUiail.
22 This was the name by which the School of Engineers was nown in Petersburg. The Palace of Paul does, in fact, look like ti ancient castle.
23 My grandfather's position at Moscow was equivalent to that of a lonel.
At this period there was little reading in the provinces, and even less thinking. It was difficult to find a serious book there, though one could always reckon on a bottle of champagne of a good brand. People drank a great deal, played very high, flirted, and, above all, danced with passion. The parents paid very little attention to their children, and left them to the care of servants. My father's new companions were like young animals, full of gaiety, loving to laugh, and run, and play. They made fun of the serious airs of their Moscow schoolfellow, and his passion for reading. Dostoyevsky, for his part, despised them for their ignorance; they seemed to him to belong to another world. This was not surprising. My father was several centuries ahead of his Russian companions. " I was struck by the foolishness of their reflections, their games, their conversation and their occupations," he wrote later. " They respected nothing but success. All that was righteous, but humiliated and persecuted, called forth their cruel mockery. At the age of sixteen, they talked of nice little lucrative situations. Their vice amounted to monstrosity." As he observed his schoolfellows, Dostoyevsky felt his father's Lithuanian disdain for the Russians awaking in his heart, the contempt of a civilised individual for brutes and ignoramuses.24
24 Although he despised them, my father never cast off his companions. Former pupils at the School of Engineers remember that he was always ready to protect new pupOs when they arrived, helping them with their lessons, and defending them against the tyranny of the elder boys. General Sav61ieff, who at this period was a yoimg officer acting as superintendent of the classrooms, states in his recollections that the school authorities considered Dostoyevsky a young man of high culture, with great strength of character and a deep sense of personal dignity. He obeyed the orders of his superiors readily enough, but declined to bow to the decrees of his elder comrades, and held aloof from all their demonstrations. This was a very characteristic trait, for in Russian schools boys as a rule show more deference to their elders than to their masters.
My father, however, found a friend at last. This was the young Grigorovitch, who, hke himself, was only half a Russian; his maternal grandmother was a Frenchwoman. She took a great interest in her grandson's education, and made him a well-informed young man. Gay and sociable as the French generally are, Grigorovitch was ready enough to play with his schoolfellows, but he preferred the society of my father. There was a bond of union between them : both were writing in secret, and dreaming of becoming novelists.25
25 My father had another friend at this period, the young Schidlovsky, his former schoolfellow at Tchermack's. For some reason unknown to me, Schidlovsky travelled a great deal, going sometimes to Reval, sometimes to Petersburg. He acted as bearer of dispatches to the young Dostoyevsky. Schidlovsky was a poet, an idealist and a mystic. He had a great influence on my father. He was probably of Lithuanian origin.
His friendship with young Grigorovitch did not make my father forget his brother Mihail. They corresponded constantly; some of their letters have been published. In these they speak of Racine, Corneille, Schiller and Balzac, recommend interesting books to each other, and exchange their literary impressions. My uncle took advantage of his term at Reval to study the German language thoroughly. Later he translated several of the works of Goethe and Schiller, and his translations were much appreciated by the Russian public.
Letters from the young Dostoyevsky to their father have also been published. They are very respectful; but as a rule contain nothing but requests for money. My grandfather was not loved by his children. This Lithuanian, who had so many good qualities, had also one great defect: he was a hard drinker, violent and suspicious in his cups. As long as his wife was there to intervene between him and the children all was well; she had considerable influence over him, and prevented him from drinking to excess. After her death my grandfather gave way to his weakness, became incapal of working, and resigned his appointment. Having placed his younger sons, Andrey and Nicolai, at Tchemack's school, and having married his eldest daughter Barbara to a native of Moscow, he retired to Darovoy and devoted himself to agriculture. He took his two younger daughters. Vera and Alexandra, with him, and led them a terrible life. At this time it was usual to bring up girls under the superintendence of their parents. The instruction given them was not very extensive; French, German, a little piano-playing and dancing fancy needlework. Only the daughters of the
