Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

Chapter 7

On arriving (to come to a place) in Moscow by a morning train, Levin (a landowner who farms his own estate in the country) had put up at the house of his elder (the eldest) half-brother (a brother by one parent only), Koznishev (Levin's half brother, a writer on public questions). After changing his clothes he went down to his brother’s study, intending (to have in mind) to talk to him at once about the object of his visit, and to ask his advice; but his brother was not alone. With him there was a well-known (known by many) professor of philosophy (the search for wisdom), who had come from Harkov (a city of the Russian south) expressly (on purpose; plainly) to clear up a difference that had arisen (to come up) between them on a very important philosophical (of philosophy; calmly wise) question. The professor was carrying on a hot crusade (a holy war; also a campaign for a cause) against materialists (one who holds that only matter is real). Sergey (a Russian man's name; also Koznishev's first name) Koznishev had been following this crusade (a holy war; also a campaign for a cause) with interest (interest: the spectacle that draws a crowd — the old sense here), and after reading the professor’s last article, he had written him a letter stating (state: ceremony; pomp — the old sense here) his objections (a reason against). He accused (to charge with wrongdoing) the professor of making too great concessions (a giving way) to the materialists (one who holds that only matter is real). And the professor had promptly (without delay) appeared to argue (to reason against) the matter out. The point in discussion was the question then in vogue (the fashion of the moment): Is there a line to be drawn between psychological (of the mind) and physiological (of the body's workings) phenomena (things that appear to the senses) in man? and if so, where?

Sergey Ivanovitch (Koznishev, Levin's half brother, by his first name and patronymic) met his brother with the smile of chilly (rather cold) friendliness (friendly warmth) he always had for everyone, and introducing (to make known; bring in) him to the professor, went on with the conversation.

A little man in spectacles (a grand sight; glasses for the eyes), with a narrow (of little width) forehead (the brow), tore (a drop of weeping; to rip) himself from the discussion for an instant (a moment; immediate) to greet (to welcome) Levin, and then went on talking without paying any further attention to him. Levin sat down to wait till the professor should go, but he soon began to get interested in the subject under discussion.

Levin had come across the magazine articles about which they were disputing (an argued quarrel), and had read them, interested in them as a development of the first principles (a ruling truth) of science, familiar to him as a natural science student at the university. But he had never connected these scientific deductions (reasoning from facts; a subtraction) as to the origin of man as an animal, as to reflex (an automatic response) action, biology (the study of living things), and sociology (the study of society), with those questions as to the meaning of life and death to himself, which had of late been more and more often in his mind.

As he listened to his brother’s argument with the professor, he noticed that they connected these scientific questions with those spiritual (of the spirit) problems, that at times they almost touched on the latter; but every time they were close upon what seemed to him the chief point, they promptly (without delay) beat a hasty (hurried) retreat (a falling back), and plunged (to dive suddenly) again into a sea of subtle (fine and delicate) distinctions (a difference; an honor), reservations (a holding back), quotations (a stated price), allusions (an indirect reference), and appeals to authorities, and it was with difficulty (hardness; trouble) that he understood what they were talking about.

“I cannot admit it,” said Sergey Ivanovitch, with his habitual (usual by habit) clearness (clarity), precision (exactness) of expression, and elegance (refined grace) of phrase (a group of words). “I cannot in any case agree with Keiss (a family name) that my whole conception (an idea; a grasping in mind) of the external world has been derived (to draw from a source) from perceptions (the mind's grasp of the senses). The most fundamental (at the foundation) idea, the idea of existence, has not been received by me through sensation (a feeling; a public stir); indeed, there is no special sense-organ (a part of the body used for feeling or seeing) for the transmission (the passing on of a thing) of such an idea.”

“Yes, but they—Wurt (part of a German phrase), and Knaust (a name cited among old writers), and Pripasov (a Russian family name)—would answer that your consciousness (waking awareness) of existence is derived (to draw from a source) from the conjunction (a joining) of all your sensations (a feeling; a public stir), that that consciousness (waking awareness) of existence is the result of your sensations (a feeling; a public stir). Wurt, indeed, says plainly (clearly; simply) that, assuming there are no sensations (a feeling; a public stir), it follows that there is no idea of existence.”

“I maintain the contrary (opposite),” began Sergey Ivanovitch.

But here it seemed to Levin that just as they were close upon the real point of the matter, they were again retreating (a falling back), and he made up his mind to put a question to the professor.

“According to that, if my senses (the body's five ways of knowing; good judgment) are annihilated (to destroy utterly), if my body is dead, I can have no existence of any sort?” he queried (a question).

The professor, in annoyance (irritation), and, as it were, mental suffering at the interruption (a breaking in), looked round at the strange inquirer (inquirers: those who search into a subject), more like a bargeman (a man who works a flat river boat) than a philosopher (a seeker of wisdom), and turned his eyes upon Sergey Ivanovitch, as though to ask: What’s one to say to him? But Sergey Ivanovitch, who had been talking with far less heat and one-sidedness (the taking of one view only) than the professor, and who had sufficient (enough) breadth (width) of mind to answer the professor, and at the same time to comprehend (to understand) the simple and natural point of view from which the question was put, smiled and said:

“That question we have no right to answer as yet.”

“We have not the requisite (required) data,” chimed (fanciful; dream-built) in the professor, and he went back to his argument. “No,” he said; “I would point out the fact that if, as Pripasov directly asserts (to state firmly), perception (the mind's grasp of the senses) is based on sensation (a feeling; a public stir), then we are bound (to tie fast) to distinguish (to tell apart) sharply (keenly) between these two conceptions (an idea; a grasping in mind).”

Levin listened no more, and simply waited for the professor to go.