[118] _The Possessed_, p. 133. [119] _The Idiot_, p. 225. [120] _The Possessed_, p. 219. [121] _The Possessed_, pp. 554-5. [122] _The Possessed_, p. 555. [123] André Gide, _Morceaux Choisis_, p. 101, §1. [124] Dr. Binet-Sanglé is the author of a blasphemous work to which he has given the title _La Folie de Jésus-Christ_: he attempts to deny the importance of Christ and of Christianity by showing that Christ was mad and a degenerate. [125] _The Possessed_, p. 577. [126] _The Possessed_, pp. 383, 385. [127] _The Possessed_, p. 540. [128] _The Possessed_, p. 275. [129] _The Possessed_, pp. 579, 580. [130] _The Possessed_, p. 580. [131] _The Possessed_, pp. 582, 583. [132] Bienstock, pp. 540-2. [133] _A Raw Youth_, pp. 462-4. [134] Reclus, _Geography_, XIV, 931. “The island populations of Oceania are fast dying out, for they have lost the body of ideas which governed their actions, and lack a common measure to judge good and evil.” [135] _The Possessed_, pp. 232-234. [136] _The Possessed_, p. 376. [137] _The Possessed_, p. 395. [138] _The Eternal Husband_, p. 128. APPENDIX I “And now I will tell two anecdotes to wind up my account of the ‘_idea_,’ that it may not hinder my story again. “In July, two months before I came to St. Petersburg, when my time was all my own, Marie Ivanovna asked me to go to see an old maiden lady who was staying in the Troitsky suburb to take her a message of no interest for my story. Returning the same day, I noticed in the railway carriage an unattractive-looking young man, not very poorly though grubbily dressed, with a pimply face and a muddy dark complexion. He distinguished himself by getting out at every station, big and little, to have a drink. Towards the end of the journey he was surrounded by a merry throng of very low companions. One merchant, also a little drunk, was particularly delighted at the young man’s power of drinking incessantly without becoming drunk. Another person, who was awfully pleased with him, was a very stupid fellow who talked a great deal. He was wearing European dress and smelt most unsavoury--he was a footman, as I found out afterwards: this fellow got quite friendly with the young man who was drinking and, every time the train stopped, roused him with the invitation, ‘It’s time for a drop of vodka,’ and they got out with their arms round each other. The young man who drank scarcely said a word, but yet more and more companions joined him. He only listened to their chatter, grinning incessantly with a drivelling snigger, and only from time to time, always unexpectedly, brought out a sound something like ‘Ture-lure-loo!’ while he put his finger up to his nose in a very comical way. This diverted the merchant, and the footman and all of them, and they burst into a very loud and free and easy laughter. It is sometimes impossible to understand why people laugh. I joined them, too, and I don’t know why, the young man