he refuses to recognise
it.'

'H'm ... what you've just said is a common-place reversed.'

'What? What do you mean by that term?'

'I'll tell you; saying, for instance, that education is beneficial,
that's a common-place; but to say that education is injurious, that's a
common-place turned upside down. There's more style about it, so to
say, but in reality it's one and the same.'

'And the truth is--where, which side?'

'Where? Like an echo I answer, Where?'

'You're in a melancholy mood to-day, Yevgeny.'

'Really? The sun must have softened my brain, I suppose, and I can't
stand so many raspberries either.'

'In that case, a nap's not a bad thing,' observed Arkady.

'Certainly; only don't look at me; every man's face is stupid when he's
asleep.'

'But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?'

'I don't know what to say to you. A real man ought not to care; a real
man is one whom it's no use thinking about, whom one must either obey
or hate.'

'It's funny! I don't hate anybody,' observed Arkady, after a moment's
thought.

'And I hate so many. You are a soft-hearted, mawkish creature; how
could you hate any one?... You're timid; you don't rely on yourself
much.'

'And you,' interrupted Arkady, 'do you expect much of yourself? Have
you a high opinion of yourself?'

Bazarov paused. 'When I meet a man who can hold his own beside me,' he
said, dwelling on every syllable, 'then I'll change my opinion of
myself. Yes, hatred! You said, for instance, to-day as we passed our
bailiff Philip's cottage--it's the one that's so nice and clean--well,
you said, Russia will come to perfection when the poorest peasant has a
house like that, and every one of us ought to work to bring it
about.... And I felt such a hatred for this poorest peasant, this
Philip or Sidor, for whom I'm to be ready to jump out of my skin, and
who won't even thank me for it ... and why should he thank me? Why,
suppose he does live in a clean house, while the nettles are growing
out of me,--well what do I gain by it?'

'Hush, Yevgeny ... if one listened to you to-day one would be driven to
agreeing with those who reproach us for want of principles.'

'You talk like your uncle. There are no general principles--you've not
made out that even yet! There are feelings. Everything depends on
them.'

'How so?'

'Why, I, for instance, take up a negative attitude, by virtue of my
sensations; I like to deny--my brain's made on that pl