and striking verisimilitude. Certain extracts

from the poem have come to my ears, and I may say that the author is a great man- one hears in him the notes both of Dante and of Shakespeare."

"And whence has he originated?" asked Oblomov, leaning forward in astonishment ; but Penkin, perceiving that he had now said too much, merely repeated that Oblomov must read the poem, and judge for himself. This Oblomov declined to do.

" Why ? " asked Penkin. " The thing will make a great stir and be much talked about."

" Very well : let people talk. Tis all some folks have to do. Tis their metier."

" Nevertheless, read it yourself, for curiosity's sake."

"What have I not seen in books!" commented the other. " Surely folk must write such things merely to amuse themselves?"

"Yes ; even as I do. At the same time, what truth, what verisimilitude, do you not find in books ! How powerfully some of them move one through the vivid portraiture which they contain ! Whomsoever these authors take—a tchinovnik,^[1] an officer, or a blackmailer—they paint them as living creatures."