There is still another peculiarity in the system of our prison, which I consider most beneficial, and which gives to the whole thing a character of stern and noble justice.  Left to himself, and only to himself, the prisoner cannot count upon support, or upon that spurious, wretched pity which so often falls to the lot of weak people, disfiguring thereby the fundamental purposes of nature.

I confess that I think, with a certain sense of pride, that if I am now enjoying general respect and admiration, if my mind is strong, my will powerful, my view of life clear and bright, I owe it only to myself, to my power and my perseverance.  How many weak people would have perished in my place as victims of madness, despair, or grief?  But I have conquered everything!  I have changed the world.  I gave to my soul the form which my mind desired.  In the desert, working alone, exhausted with fatigue, I have erected a stately structure in which I now live joyously and calmly, like a king.  Destroy it—­and to-morrow I shall begin to build a new structure, and in my bloody sweat I shall erect it!  For I must live!

Forgive my involuntary pathos in the last lines, which is so unbecoming to my balanced and calm nature.  But it is hard to restrain myself when I recall the road I have travelled.  I hope, however, that in the future I shall not darken the mood of my reader with any outbursts of agitated feelings.  Only he shouts who is not confident of the truth of his words; calm firmness and cold simplicity are becoming to the truth.

P.S.—­I do not remember whether I told you that the criminal who murdered my father has not been found as yet.

CHAPTER V

Deviating from time to time from the calm form of a historical narrative I must pause on current events.  Thus I will permit myself to acquaint my readers in a few lines with a rather interesting specimen of the human species which I have found accidentally in our prison.

One afternoon a few days ago the Warden came to me for the usual chat, and among other things told me there was a very unfortunate man in prison at the time upon whom I could exert a beneficent influence.  I expressed my willingness in the most cordial manner, and for several days in succession I have had long discussions with the artist K., by permission of the Warden.  The spirit of hostility, even of obstinacy, with which, to my regret, he met me at his first visit, has now disappeared entirely under the influence of my discussion.  Listening willingly and with interest to my ever pacifying words he gradually told me his rather unusual story after a series of persistent questions.