Wednesday, 23 July 1873

At the English lesson, in a travel book on Russia by an Englishman, I found not only errors but lies and slander.
To enlighten the world on this subject, I shall write an article in the Times and other newspapers. I am indignant. Ah! how many times an honest soul must be indignant in their life! Today is Olga's name day; we were told only at dinner.
We went for a drive — Maman with a pack of children and Mme Anitchkoff. The others with Dominique, and Paul and I in a cab (grey dress, very good). We went very fast. I was giving Paul a lesson in living. Far from preaching work and seriousness, I covered the substance with races, clubs, salons, shooting, etc. etc.
— You must work, I told him; so long as you are a boy, you must study day and night, not lose a minute, so as to have finished by twenty — and then, different work, no more studies; one must work at becoming rich. The beginning of a man's life is at twenty-eight. If you work well, by that age you will already be established; you will have free hours to amuse yourself. You will marry.
— But in eight years one cannot do much.
— Of course you will not sit idle, but you will no longer be a schoolboy; you will have a fortune, you will enjoy yourself, you can have horses, frequent the salons — in short, be a man of the world. For all that, one needs money in the times we live in.
Alas! All merits are not worth money — in a salon, naturally. I was speaking well, and the main thing is that he listened to me. That is my aim — to the devil with eloquence. But I am silly: to be listened to, one must be eloquent.
He is a good fellow; he loves children — that is a very good sign. We spoke of my trip around the world.
— But one needs a great deal of money.
— A hundred thousand francs would suffice for one person alone.
— But you will go with your husband, your children.
— Oh! no, no children.
— And how?
— I shall not have children.
We laughed.
— I shall leave them with Maman, I said.
— Oh no, I shall always be with mine; I shall watch over the nursemaids, I shall see them ten times a day. And so on in that vein.
He will love his family. I have not yet discussed everything with him. I am not sure of the ground; I do not plant both feet together — that will come. Until now, thank God, all goes well.
With Paul one can accomplish something only through reasoning. I should have been so happy if I could make a good man of him.
In the evening at our house — the whole Anitchkoff clan and the Princess. Paul set off fireworks and Bengal lights. Then we had tea. The Princess had lost her dog, but it was found. This wretched business: Georges is tipsy. When Maman and Dina tell him that he has had enough to drink, or that there is no more wine, he gets angry. Then I:
— But let him drink — what does it matter, since it harms no one. I like it when someone is nicely tipsy. And since it pleases him.
To this I received a fine compliment from him. There now, she is intelligent, and she calms things too. The others fly into a temper, but she is attentive and she calms.
There is nothing worse than preventing someone from drinking. If a man wants to drink, he will drink in a tavern or anywhere; one only irritates him by stopping him. On the contrary, one should offer and let him drink, since on that day he has the desire. I expounded many of my opinions to everyone. I even said that if I were a man, I would get drunk.
— You forget that I am here, said Paul, smiling.
— My dear, I never preach false morality; I say the same thing before you and without you.
This remark will give him more faith in my words. And before the one you wish to dominate, you must show yourself a bit playful — it inspires confidence, and in this way I shall be kept informed of everything. He will not regard me as a walking sermon but as a friend. I alone can calm Georges; the others irritate him.
I astonish myself — where do all these principles and all these rules come from, and all those I have for everything? They come to me from Him. I dare to hope that this is the beginning of the realization of my prayer.
I do not detest drunkards. I know how to behave with them; they would be under my dominion.
[Written across the page: Fie! the horror!]