Ivan Ivan’itch was alarmed at the prospect of losing his authority over his serfs.  Though he had never been a cruel taskmaster, he had not spared the rod when he considered it necessary, and he believed birch twigs to be a necessary instrument in the Russian system of agriculture.  For some time he drew consolation from the thought that peasants were not birds of the air, that they must under all circumstances require food and clothing, and that they would be ready to serve him as agricultural labourers; but when he learned that they were to receive a large part of the estate for their own use, his hopes fell, and he greatly feared that he would be inevitably ruined.

These dark forebodings have not been by any means realised.  His serfs were emancipated and received about a half of the estate, but in return for the land ceded they paid him annually a considerable sum, and they were always ready to cultivate his fields for a fair remuneration.  The yearly outlay was considerably greater, but the price of grain rose, and this counterbalanced the additional yearly expenditure.  The administration of the estate has become much less patriarchal; much that was formerly left to custom and tacit understanding is now regulated by express agreement on purely commercial principles; a great deal more money is paid out and a great deal more received; there is much less authority in the hands of the master, and his responsibilities are proportionately diminished; but in spite of all these changes, Ivan Ivan’itch would have great difficulty in deciding whether he is a richer or a poorer man.  He has fewer horses and fewer servants, but he has still more than he requires, and his mode of life has undergone no perceptible alteration.  Maria Petrovna complains that she is no longer supplied with eggs, chickens, and homespun linen by the peasants, and that everything is three times as dear as it used to be; but somehow the larder is still full, and abundance reigns in the house as of old.

Ivan Ivan’itch certainly does not possess transcendent qualities of any kind.  It would be impossible to make a hero out of him, even though his own son should be his biographer.  Muscular Christians may reasonably despise him, an active, energetic man may fairly condemn him for his indolence and apathy.  But, on the other hand, he has no very bad qualities.  His vices are of the passive, negative kind.  He is a respectable if not a distinguished member of society, and appears a very worthy man when compared with many of his neighbours who have been brought up in similar conditions.  Take, for instance, his younger brother Dimitri, who lives a short way off.