From knowledge of his own case, Dostoevsky supposes a pathological condition which, for a space, imposes and suggests to one or other of his characters a new formula of existence. To take a concrete instance, let us consider Kirillov, who carries on his shoulders the entire plot of _The Possessed_. We are aware he intends to take his life, but not that his suicide is imminent: self-destruction is, however, certainly in his mind. Why? The motive is withheld almost till the very end of the book. “I don’t understand what fancy possesses you to put yourself to death,” says Pyotr Stepanovitch to him. “It wasn’t my idea; you thought of it yourself before I appeared, and talked of your intention to the committee abroad before you said anything to me. And you know, no one has forced it on you; no one of them knew you, but you came to confide in them yourself, from sentimentalism. And what’s to be done if a plan of action here, which can’t be altered now, was founded upon that with your consent and upon your suggestion?--_your_ suggestion, mind that!”[125] Kirillov’s suicide is absolutely gratuitous. I mean to say there is an absence of outward motivation. We shall presently see what absurdities are introduced into this world under cover of a _gratuitous act_. After Kirillov resolves to take his life, everything becomes a matter of profound indifference to him. His peculiar state of mind which sanctions and accounts for his suicide (gratuitous, but _not_ without a motive) will leave him unmoved by the imputation of a crime others will commit and which he will calmly suffer to be laid at his own door. Such at least is Pyotr Stepanovitch’s belief. Pyotr Stepanovitch imagines the crime he is planning will strengthen the bonds between the conspirators he heads and over whom he feels his control weakening. He reckons that each individual party to the plot, having shared in the crime, will feel his complicity and be unable, indeed will not dare, to break away. Who is to be sacrificed? Pyotr Stepanovitch is still undecided. It is necessary that the victim should present himself spontaneously. The conspirators are met together in a large room; in the course of conversation, the question is asked, “Can there be, even now, an informer in our midst?” An extraordinary commotion follows this remark: everybody begins to talk at once. “‘Gentlemen, if that is so,’ Verhovensky went on, ‘I have compromised myself more than anyone, and so I will ask you to answer one question, if you care to, of course. You are all perfectly free.’ “‘What question? What question?’ every one clamoured. “‘A question that will make it clear whether we are to remain together, or take up our hats and go our several ways without speaking.’ “‘The question! The question!’