# Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Three/Chapter 30

CHAPTER XXX
Toward the end of September the lumber was brought for the construction of a barn on the artel land, and the butter was sold, and showed a profit. The new administration, on the whole, worked admirably in practice, or at least it seemed so to Levin.
But in order to explain the whole subject into a clear ​light theoretically, and to finish his treatise, which Levin imagined was likely not only to revolutionize political economy, but even to annihilate this science, and to make the beginnings of a new one, treating of the relations of the peasantry to the soil, he felt that it was necessary to go abroad, and to learn, from observation on the spot, all that was going on in that direction, and to find conclusive proofs that all that was done there was not the right thing.
He was only waiting for the delivery of the wheat to get his money, and make the journey. But the autumn rains set in, and portions of the wheat and potatoes were not as yet garnered. All work was at a standstill, and it was impossible to deliver the wheat. The roads were impracticable, two mills were washed away by the freshet, and the weather kept growing worse and worse.
But on the morning of October 12 the sun came out; and Levin, hoping for a change in the weather, began resolutely to prepare for his journey. He sent the overseer to the merchant to negotiate for the sale of the wheat, and he himself went out for a tour of inspection of the estate, in order to make the last remaining arrangements for his journey.
Having accomplished all that he wished, he returned at nightfall, wet from the rivulets that trickled from his waterproof down his neck and inside his high boots, but in a happy and animated frame of mind. Toward evening the storm increased; the hail pelted so violently the drenched horse, that she shook her ears and her head, and went sidewise; but Levin, protected by his bashluik, felt comfortable enough, and he cheerfully gazed around him,—now at the muddy streams running down the wheel-tracks; now at the raindrops trickling down every bare twig; now at the white spots where the hail had not yet melted on the planks of the bridge; now at the dry but still pulpy leaf, clinging with its stout stem to the denuded elm. In spite of the gloomy aspect of nature, he felt in particularly good spirits. His talks with the peasants in a distant ​village convinced him that they were beginning to get used to his new arrangements; and an old dvornik, at whose house he stopped to dry himself, evidently approved of his plan, and wanted to join the association for the purchase of cattle.
"What is required is to go straight to my goal, and I shall succeed," thought Levin; "but the labor and the pains have an object. I am not working for myself alone, but the question concerns the good of all. The whole way of managing our estates, the condition of all the people, must be absolutely changed. Instead of poverty, universal well-being, contentment; instead of enmity, agreement and union of interests; in a word, a bloodless revolution, but a mighty revolution, beginning in the little circuit of our district, then reaching the province, Russia, the whole world! The conception is so just that it cannot help being fruitful. Yes, indeed, this goal is worth working for. And there is absolutely no significance in the fact that I, Kostia Levin, my own self, a man who went to a ball in a black necktie, and was rejected by a Shcherbatsky, am a stupid and a good-for-nothing; that is neither here nor there. I believe that Franklin felt that he was just such a good-for-nothing, and had just as little faith in himself, when he took everything into account. And, probably, he had his Agafya Mikhaïlovna also, to whom he confided his secrets."
With such thoughts, Levin reached home in the dark. The overseer, who had been to the merchant, came and handed him a part of the money from the wheat. The agreement with the dvornik was drawn up; and then the overseer told how he had seen wheat still standing in the field by the road, while his one hundred and sixty stacks, not yet brought in, were nothing in comparison to what others had.
After supper Levin sat down in his chair, as usual, with a book; and as he read he began to think of his projected journey, especially in connection with his book. That evening the whole significance of his undertaking presented itself to him with remarkable clear​ness, and his ideas fell naturally into flowing periods, which expressed the essence of his thought.
"I must write this down," he said to himself. "It must go into a short introduction, though before I thought that was unnecessary."
He got up to go to his writing-table; and Laska, who had been lying at his feet, also got up, and, stretching herself, looked at him, as if asking where he was going. But he had no time for writing; for the various superintendents came for their orders, and he had to go to meet them in the anteroom.
After giving them their orders, or rather, having made arrangements for their morrow's work, and having received all the muzhiks who came to consult with him, Levin went back to his library, and sat down to his work. Laska lay under the table; Agafya Mikhaïlovna, with her knitting, took her usual place.
After writing some time, Levin suddenly arose, and began to walk up and down the room. The memory of Kitty and her refusal, and the recent glimpse of her, came before his imagination with extraordinary vividness.
"Now, there's no need of your getting blue," said Agafya Mikhaïlovna. "Now why do you stay at home? You had better go to the warm springs if your mind is made up."
"I am going day after to-morrow, Agafya Mikhaïlovna; but I had to finish up my business."
"Your business, indeed! Have n't you given these muzhiks enough already? And they say, 'Our barin is trying to buy some favor from the Tsar;' and strange it is: why do you bother yourself so about the muzhiks?"
"I am not bothering myself about them; I am doing it for my own good."
Agafya Mikhaïlovna knew all the details of Levin's plans, for he had explained them to her, and he had often had discussions with her and had not agreed with her comments; but now she entirely misapprehended what he said to her.
"For your own soul it is certainly important; to think of that is above everything," said she, with a sigh. ​"Here is Parfen Denisuitch: although he could not read, yet may God give us all to die as he did!" said she, referring to a household servant who had recently died. "They confessed him and gave him extreme unction."
"I did not mean that," said he; "I mean that I am working for my own profit. It will be more profitable to me if the muzhiks will work better."
"There! you will only have your labor for your pains. The lazy will be lazy and always do things over his left shoulder. Where he has a conscience, he'll work; if not, nothing will be done."
"Well, well! But don't you yourself say that Ivan is beginning to look out for the cows better?"
"I say this one thing," replied Agafya Mikhaïlovna, evidently not at random but with a keen logical connection of thought: "You must get married, that's what."
Agafya Mikhaïlovna's observation about the very matter that preoccupied him angered him and insulted him. He frowned, and, without replying, sat down to his work again, repeating to himself all that he had thought about the importance of his work. Occasionally amid the silence he noticed the clicking of Agafya Mikhaïlovna's needles; and, remembering what he did not wish to remember, he would frown.
At nine o'clock the sound of bells was heard, and the heavy rumbling of a carriage on the muddy road.
"There! here's some visitors coming to see you: you won't be bored any more," said Agafya Mikhaïlovna, rising, and going to the door. But Levin stepped ahead of her. His work did not progress now, and he was glad to see any guest.