"For microbes do not love a pure atmosphere."
"This much is certain: there is within him 'a moral insanity.' I have become accustomed to him, but there are certain things in him I cannot endure. You have no idea of the contemptuous pity, the dislike, and the downright hatred with which he expresses himself about everything which is Polish. And here I call a halt. Notwithstanding our good relations, it almost came to a personal encounter between us. For when he began to squirt his bilious wit, a certain night, on all Poland, I said to him, 'That lion is not yet dead, and if he dies we know who alone is capable of kicking at a dying lion.' He did not come here for over a month, but was I not right? I understand how some great hero, who was repaid with ingratitude, might speak with bitterness and venom of his country, but Swidwicki is not a Miltiades or a Themistocles. And such an outpouring of bile is directly pernicious, for he, with his immensely flashing intellect, finds imitators and creates a fashion, in consequence of which various persons who have never done anything for Poland whet their rusty wits upon this whetstone. I understand criticism, though it be inexorable, but when it becomes a horse or rather an ass from which one never dismounts, then it is bad, for it takes away the desire to live from those who, however, must live--and is vile, because it is spitting upon society, is often sinful and, above all, unprecedentedly unfortunate. Pessimism is not reason but a surrogate of reason; therefore, a cheat, such as the merchant who sells chiccory for coffee. And such a surrogate you now meet at every step in life and in literature."
Here Gronski became silent for a while and raised his brows; and Krzycki said:
"From what you say, I see that Swidwicki is a big ape."
"At times, I think that he is a man incredibly wretched, and for that reason I did not break off relations with him. Besides he has for me a kind of attachment and this always disarms one. Finally, I confess openly that I have the purely Polish weakness, which indulges and forgives everything in people who amuse us. He at times is very amusing, especially when in a talking mood and when he is tipsy to a certain degree."
"But finally, if he does not work but talks, from what does he live?"
"He does not belong to the poor class. Once he was very wealthy; later he lost a greater portion of his fortune. But in the end the late Otocki who was a most upright man, and very practical besides, seeing what was taking place, took the matter in his own hands, saved considerable and changed the capital into an annuity. From this Swidwicki receives a few thousand roubles annually, and though he spends more than he ought to, he has something to live upon. If he did not drink, he would have a sufficiency: one passion he does not possess, namely, cards. He says that for cards one must have the intellect of a negro. From just that arose the encounter with Dolhanski. But after all, they could not bear each other of old. Both, as some one had said, are commercial travellers, dealing in cynicism and competing with each other."
"Between the two, I, however, prefer Dolhanski," said Krzycki.
"Because he amuses you, and Swidwicki has not thus far had the opportunity. Eternally, it is the same Polish weakness," answered Gronski.
After a while he added: