by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev (Author)

I was then five-and-twenty, -that was a sufficient indication that I had a past, said he, beginning. My own master for some little time, I resolved to travel, -not to complete my education, as they said at the time, but to see the world. I was young, light-hearted, in good health, free from every care, with a well-filled purse; I gave no thought to the future; I indulged every whim, -in fact, I lived like a flower that expands in the sun. The idea that man is but a plant, and that its flower can only live a short time, had not yet occurred to me. "Youth," says a Russian proverb, "lives upon gilded gingerbread, which it ingenuously takes for bread; then one day even bread fail

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