that she was hot-tempered, that she was fond of jesting, that she never failed to eat with appetite, and could even drink a glass of sherry; consequently, the conversation was not needed to characterize Viéra Pavlovna: but whom then? There are two who speak,—she and Rakhmétof. It is not to characterize her; guess, then, who is it."
"Rakhmétof!" exclaims the sapient reader.
"Well,[1] you are a fine fellow, and I like you for it. So you see that it is entirely contrary to what you thought before. Rakhmétof was not introduced for the sake of carrying on the conversation, but the conversation was imparted to you for the sake of making you better acquainted with Rakhmétof. From this conversation you saw that Rakhmétof would like to drink sherry, though he does not take it. That Rakhmétof is not an absolutely gloomy monster, that, on the contrary, on pleasant occasions, he forgets his sorrowful humors, his burning grief, that then he jokes, and talks gayly, although he says it is very rarely that 'I do it,' and he says, that 'is bitter to me that I do it so rarely'; he says, 'I, myself, am not glad that I am such a gloomy monster, but my circumstances are such that a man, with such a burning love for the good, cannot help being a gloomy monster'; 'And if it were not for this,' he says, 'I should probably joke, and laugh, and sing, and leap, all day.'
"Have you understood, now, sapient reader, that although a good many pages have been devoted to the fair description of the sort of man that Rakhmétof was, yet, in reality, still more pages have been devoted exclusively for the same purpose of making you acquainted with the very same person, who is not at all an active character in my novel? Tell me now, why this figure was brought out and introduced, and so minutely described? Do you remember I said then, 'It is exclusively for satisfying the main demand of the artistic'? Think! how does it seem, and how is it satisfied by placing before you Rakhmétof's figure? Was it hard for you? Have you succeeded in finding out? and yet, how could you? Well,[1] listen, or rather, don't listen; you will not understand it. Leave me alone; I have amused myself enough at your expense. I am going to speak now not to you, but the public and I am going to speak seriously.
"The first demand of the artistic is this: it is necessary so to picture things that the reader may see them in their true
