I had just written you, my dear friend Ilya, a letter that was true to
my own feelings, but, I am afraid, unjust, and I am not sending it. I
said unpleasant things in it, but I have no right to do so. I do not
know you as I should like to and as I ought to know you. That is my
fault. And I wish to remedy it. I know much in you that I do not like,
but I do not know everything. As for your proposed journey home, I think
that in your position of student, not only student of a gymnase, but
at the age of study, it is better to gad about as little as possible;
moreover, all useless expenditure of money that you can easily refrain
from is immoral, in my opinion, and in yours, too, if you only consider
it. If you come, I shall be glad for my own sake, so long as you are not
inseparable from G----.
Do as you think best. But you must work, both with your head, thinking
and reading, and with your heart; that is, find out for yourself what is
really good and what is bad, although it seems to be good. I kiss you.