alone," as the gipsy maiden Tanyúsha sang it. His nature was one of those which for a good deed need a public. God knows whether he had any moral convictions. His life was so full of distractions of all kinds that he had had no time to form them, and he was so fortunate in his life that he saw no need for them.
In his old age he formed settled opinions and invariable rules for everything, but they were all based exclusively on a practical basis. Those acts and that conduct of life which caused him happiness and pleasure he regarded as good, and he considered that all people ought at all times to act likewise. He spoke with great enthusiasm, and that ability, it seemed to me, increased the flexibility of his rules: he was able to speak of the same deed as a very pleasant jest and as an act of low rascality.
