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Konstantin Levin regarded his brother as a man of immense

intellect and culture, as generous in the highest sense of the

word, and possessed of a special faculty for working for the

public good. But in the depths of his heart, the older he became,

and the more intimately he knew his brother, the more and more

frequently the thought struck him that this faculty of working

for the public good, of which he felt himself utterly devoid, was

possibly not so much a quality as a lack of something-not a lack

of good, honest, noble desires and tastes, but a lack of vital

force, of what is called heart, of that impulse which drives a

man to choose someone out of the innumerable paths of life, and

to care only for that one.