<h3>Chapter 26</h3>
<p>In September Levin moved to Moscow for Kitty’s confinement. He had spent
a whole month in Moscow with nothing to do, when Sergey Ivanovitch, who had
property in the Kashinsky province, and took great interest in the question of
the approaching elections, made ready to set off to the elections. He invited
his brother, who had a vote in the Seleznevsky district, to come with him.
Levin had, moreover, to transact in Kashin some extremely important business
relating to the wardship of land and to the receiving of certain redemption
money for his sister, who was abroad.</p>
<p>Levin still hesitated, but Kitty, who saw that he was bored in Moscow, and
urged him to go, on her own authority ordered him the proper nobleman’s
uniform, costing seven pounds. And that seven pounds paid for the uniform was
the chief cause that finally decided Levin to go. He went to Kashin....</p>
<p>Levin had been six days in Kashin, visiting the assembly each day, and busily
engaged about his sister’s business, which still dragged on. The district
marshals of nobility were all occupied with the elections, and it was
impossible to get the simplest thing done that depended upon the court of
wardship. The other matter, the payment of the sums due, was met too by
difficulties. After long negotiations over the legal details, the money was at
last ready to be paid; but the notary, a most obliging person, could not hand
over the order, because it must have the signature of the president, and the
president, though he had not given over his duties to a deputy, was at the
elections. All these worrying negotiations, this endless going from place to
place, and talking with pleasant and excellent people, who quite saw the
unpleasantness of the petitioner’s position, but were powerless to assist
him—all these efforts that yielded no result, led to a feeling of misery
in Levin akin to the mortifying helplessness one experiences in dreams when one
tries to use physical force. He felt this frequently as he talked to his most
good-natured solicitor. This solicitor did, it seemed, everything possible, and
strained every nerve to get him out of his difficulties. “I tell you what
you might try,” he said more than once; “go to so-and-so and
so-and-so,” and the solicitor drew up a regular plan for getting round
the fatal point that hindered everything. But he would add immediately,
“It’ll mean some delay, anyway, but you might try it.” And
Levin did try, and did go. Everyone was kind and civil, but the point evaded
seemed to crop up again in the end, and again to bar the way. What was
particularly trying, was that Levin could not make out with whom he was
struggling, to whose interest it was that his business should not be done. That
no one seemed to know; the solicitor certainly did not know. If Levin could
have understood why, just as he saw why one can only approach the booking
office of a railway station in single file, it would not have been so vexatious
and tiresome to him. But with the hindrances that confronted him in his
business, no one could explain why they existed.</p>
<p>But Levin had changed a good deal since his marriage; he was patient, and if he
could not see why it was all arranged like this, he told himself that he could
not judge without knowing all about it, and that most likely it must be so, and
he tried not to fret.</p>
<p>In attending the elections, too, and taking part in them, he tried now not to
judge, not to fall foul of them, but to comprehend as fully as he could the
question which was so earnestly and ardently absorbing honest and excellent men
whom he respected. Since his marriage there had been revealed to Levin so many
new and serious aspects of life that had previously, through his frivolous
attitude to them, seemed of no importance, that in the question of the
elections too he assumed and tried to find some serious significance.</p>
<p>Sergey Ivanovitch explained to him the meaning and object of the proposed
revolution at the elections. The marshal of the province in whose hands the law
had placed the control of so many important public functions—the
guardianship of wards (the very department which was giving Levin so much
trouble just now), the disposal of large sums subscribed by the nobility of the
province, the high schools, female, male, and military, and popular instruction
on the new model, and finally, the district council—the marshal of the
province, Snetkov, was a nobleman of the old school,—dissipating an
immense fortune, a good-hearted man, honest after his own fashion, but utterly
without any comprehension of the needs of modern days. He always took, in every
question, the side of the nobility; he was positively antagonistic to the
spread of popular education, and he succeeded in giving a purely party
character to the district council which ought by rights to be of such an
immense importance. What was needed was to put in his place a fresh, capable,
perfectly modern man, of contemporary ideas, and to frame their policy so as
from the rights conferred upon the nobles, not as the nobility, but as an
element of the district council, to extract all the powers of self-government
that could possibly be derived from them. In the wealthy Kashinsky province,
which always took the lead of other provinces in everything, there was now such
a preponderance of forces that this policy, once carried through properly
there, might serve as a model for other provinces for all Russia. And hence the
whole question was of the greatest importance. It was proposed to elect as
marshal in place of Snetkov either Sviazhsky, or, better still, Nevyedovsky, a
former university professor, a man of remarkable intelligence and a great
friend of Sergey Ivanovitch.</p>
<p>The meeting was opened by the governor, who made a speech to the nobles, urging
them to elect the public functionaries, not from regard for persons, but for
the service and welfare of their fatherland, and hoping that the honorable
nobility of the Kashinsky province would, as at all former elections, hold
their duty as sacred, and vindicate the exalted confidence of the monarch.</p>
<p>When he had finished with his speech, the governor walked out of the hall, and
the noblemen noisily and eagerly—some even
enthusiastically—followed him and thronged round him while he put on his
fur coat and conversed amicably with the marshal of the province. Levin,
anxious to see into everything and not to miss anything, stood there too in the
crowd, and heard the governor say: “Please tell Marya Ivanovna my wife is
very sorry she couldn’t come to the Home.” And thereupon the nobles
in high good-humor sorted out their fur coats and all drove off to the
cathedral.</p>
<p>In the cathedral Levin, lifting his hand like the rest and repeating the words
of the archdeacon, swore with most terrible oaths to do all the governor had
hoped they would do. Church services always affected Levin, and as he uttered
the words “I kiss the cross,” and glanced round at the crowd of
young and old men repeating the same, he felt touched.</p>
<p>On the second and third days there was business relating to the finances of the
nobility and the female high school, of no importance whatever, as Sergey
Ivanovitch explained, and Levin, busy seeing after his own affairs, did not
attend the meetings. On the fourth day the auditing of the marshal’s
accounts took place at the high table of the marshal of the province. And then
there occurred the first skirmish between the new party and the old. The
committee who had been deputed to verify the accounts reported to the meeting
that all was in order. The marshal of the province got up, thanked the nobility
for their confidence, and shed tears. The nobles gave him a loud welcome, and
shook hands with him. But at that instant a nobleman of Sergey
Ivanovitch’s party said that he had heard that the committee had not
verified the accounts, considering such a verification an insult to the marshal
of the province. One of the members of the committee incautiously admitted
this. Then a small gentleman, very young-looking but very malignant, began to
say that it would probably be agreeable to the marshal of the province to give
an account of his expenditures of the public moneys, and that the misplaced
delicacy of the members of the committee was depriving him of this moral
satisfaction. Then the members of the committee tried to withdraw their
admission, and Sergey Ivanovitch began to prove that they must logically admit
either that they had verified the accounts or that they had not, and he
developed this dilemma in detail. Sergey Ivanovitch was answered by the
spokesman of the opposite party. Then Sviazhsky spoke, and then the malignant
gentleman again. The discussion lasted a long time and ended in nothing. Levin
was surprised that they should dispute upon this subject so long, especially
as, when he asked Sergey Ivanovitch whether he supposed that money had been
misappropriated, Sergey Ivanovitch answered:</p>
<p>“Oh, no! He’s an honest man. But those old-fashioned methods of
paternal family arrangements in the management of provincial affairs must be
broken down.”</p>
<p>On the fifth day came the elections of the district marshals. It was rather a
stormy day in several districts. In the Seleznevsky district Sviazhsky was
elected unanimously without a ballot, and he gave a dinner that evening.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />