During the nearly thirty years of my intercourse with Russian revolutionists I have met many remarkable men, but none that lived on a higher moral plane than Bobohov. Genuine sincerity, seriousness of purpose, and boundless devotion to his ideal were his leading characteristics. He was the most modest of men, but when the honour of a revolutionist was at stake, or if it were a question of duty, he would undergo a transformation and become a fiery and inspired prophet. There was never the slightest contradiction between his words and his deeds, he was the most logical and consistent of men, and it was no wonder if he won universal respect and esteem in Kara, even though everyone did not share his opinions. Bobohov was but a youth when I entered the prison, and the ideas that he had imbibed were the then prevalent, rather anarchistical views of the Buntari, to which he remained faithful all his life. Imprisonment and exile are apt to exercise a conservative influence on the mind; the opinions with which one enters prison tend to become stereotyped. Bobohov was well read, and interested himself keenly in all questions of social politics; but it happened with him as with many other intelligent men among us—he gathered from every book he read only what tended to strengthen anew the opinions he already held. He took great interest in the Social-Democratic theory, for instance, but his way of thinking prevented him from properly grasping its argument, and he was continually combating those who were attracted by it. He and I were never room-mates, but when walking in the yard I used to have endless discussions with him on this subject, and he always showed himself an exemplary debater, attentive, restrained, never ill-tempered or personal. Bobohov took the threat of flogging more keenly to heart than any of the others. His idea, which he at once did his best to promulgate, was that we should immediately send a telegram to the Minister of the Interior, declaring that if the threat of the Governor-General were not withdrawn we would all commit suicide; and he further demanded of us that if the minister had not yielded within a certain time, we should each in our turn, to be decided by lot, take measures to put an end to our lives. I had an opportunity one day of speaking to him about this proposal, and I tried to convince him of its impracticability, especially arguing against his impossible notion of casting lots, which would make suicide cease to be a voluntary act, as those who had at first agreed might feel in honour bound to cast away their lives, even if when the time came they had changed their minds. Moreover, I reasoned, if we were to announce such an intention to the authorities, they would at once take steps to prevent its being carried out.